sum. you wanted to be on top but you just can't take him. so he takes matters into his own hands (not before mocking you, ofc)
mdni!
You straddle Enjin's hips, your knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his thighs.
His thick cock presses against your entrance, and you take a deep breath, trying to lower yourself onto him. The broad head stretches you out as you sink down just an inch, and your thighs tremble with the effort.
Enjin watches you through half lid eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. His tattooed forearm rests behind his head. "What's wrong, baby?" he asks, his voice dripping with mocking amusement. "I thought you wanted to be on top. Can't even do it properly?" he tuts, "all bark no bite, huh?"
Your face flushes with heat as you try again, grinding your hips in a desperate attempt to take more of him.
Just when you think you're making progress, his free hand shoots out to grab your breast. His fingers squeeze roughly, thumb brushing over your nipple until it pebbles into a tight bead. You gasp at the sensation, your hips stuttering.
"Look at you," he coos, reaching for the cigarette pack on the nightstand with his other hand. He lights one with ease, taking a long drag while still kneading your breast. "All that confidence earlier, and now you can't even sit on my dick properly."
His fingers find your nipple again, pinching and tugging it hard enough to make you cry out. The sharp pain mixes with the dull ache of being stretched too wide. You rock your hips uselessly, managing to take another half inch.
"Please," you whimper, tears stinging your eyes. "Enjin, please.."
For a man who is so close to coming apart just from the sight of his girl riding trying to ride him, he sure is acting too cocky.
He takes another drag from his cigarette, studying your frustrated expression. "Please what? Please help you? But you wanted to be in charge." Despite his words, he stubs out the cigarette in the ashtray.
Before you can process what's happening, his hands grip your waist and he easily lifts you off his cock. The sudden emptiness makes you gasp, and then he's flipping you onto your stomach. The world spins as he manhandles you into position, your face pressed into the pillow and your ass raised high.
Enjin cages you with his body, muscular arm resting beside your head as he settles behind you. "This is how you do it" he growls and drives into you in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. You scream into the pillow as he stretches you wide, the burn giving way to a deep, overwhelming pleasure.
"Is this better?" he growls in your ear, his hips already moving in a punishing rhythm. "Is this what you wanted?" Each thrust punches the air from your lungs, his balls slapping against your clit. Your fingers claw at the sheets, trying to anchor yourself as he fucks the daylights out of you.
The bed creaks under his assault, the headboard banging against the wall with each powerful thrust. His hands slide down your body, gripping your hips to pull you back into his thrusts. The angle changes, and suddenly he's hitting that perfect spot inside you with every stroke.
"Answer me," he demands, his voice rough. His hand landing a smack over your ass.
You can only moan in response, words beyond your capability as pleasure builds in your core. Your toes curl and you push back against him, needing more. Harder, deeper. The coil in your belly tightens with each thrust, drawing closer to the edge.
Enjin reaches around, his fingers finding your clit. He rubs tight circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves, and that's all it takes. Your orgasm crashes through you, eyes rolled back and mouth slack. Your pussy clenches around his thick cock, milking him as waves of pleasure run through your body.
Enjin groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he empties himself deep inside you. You feel the hot flood of his cum painting your insides, prolonging your own pleasure. For a moment, you both collapse, his heavy weight pressing you into the mattress as you both struggle to catch your breath.
Before you can fully register the post-orgasmic bliss, Enjin is moving again. He pulls out slowly, making you whimper at the loss, and then he's flipping you over once more. Your body is pliant, boneless from pleasure, and you end up in a mean mating press. His big hand hooks under your knee, keeping you nice and open for him.
Cool air hits your exposed flesh, and you feel his cum and your own release leaking from your abused pussy, dripping onto the already soaked sheets below.
Enjin's hand comes down on your thigh with a sharp smack that makes you yelp. "You can give me one more, can't you?" he asks, a devilish smirk on his lips.
His fingers trace your slick folds, gathering the mixture of your releases before pushing back inside. "This tight little pussy isn't done with me yet."
You shudder at his words, whimpering at he overstimulation setting in, "Enjin-"
You plea gets cut off as he easily slams back into your dripping pussy. turning your pleas into cries of overwhelming pleasure. It sure is gonna be a loonng night.
enjin giving you a gag gift for your birthday, slapping your back with a hard laugh when he sees how embarrassed you are that he got you a dildo with a birthday card that reads 'something to take the edge off'
but hes the same guy who has his ear pressed against the wall to hear you try your hardest to muffle the debauched, needy moans. finally, finally you're able to get out all that stress thats been coiling in your tummy for weeks, your sopping wet pussy drowning out the soft gasps and choked back whines with nasty squelches.
and enjin's just happy his stupid gift came in handy, and that you actually liked it...it was molded from his dick, after all.
𝒔𝒖𝒎. you've been working at the same company for the last five years and you'd continue to do so if your circumstances hadn't suddenly changed. after you put in your resignation, your boss is doing everything he can to make you stay. . .
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ── .✦ mdni (18+), office au ; smut ; light angst ; making out ; porn with plot ; fíngeríng ; cünnilíngus ; biting ; hickeys ; praise kink ; piv ; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) ; dirty talk ; big díck gojo ; creampíes ; multiple orgasms ; tiny bit of overstim ; little bit of nípple play ; use of wrist restraints but like not really (it's readers shirt) ; makeshift restraint if you will ; gojo kinda pervy but that's how i like him ; gojo's a yearner (also how i like him) ; f!reader (she/her used) ; pet names used ; no use of y/n [11.6k]
For the past handful of years, you’ve been working at a large marketing company for the CEO as a personal assistant. The job is what it is and the pay makes up for any sort of… eccentricities from your boss. Despite this, it can’t change the fact that you’re struggling to pay rent and need to move back in with your parents.
You were coping before but your roommate… the guy you were… it’s complicated. Anyways he moved out and now things are just too expensive for you at the moment. It doesn’t help that anywhere else close to work is in the same range for rent, stupid fancy company in a stupid nice area. It’s frustrating because you’re attached to this job but it’s not feasible anymore.
So, as much as you’re unwilling to part from your current position, something has to give and you’ve chosen to resign. Steeling your resolve, you walk into Gojo’s empty office and gently place your two weeks’ notice on his desk. Lingering for a short moment, remembering your first day here and how intimidated you were by him.
It was never your plan to stay here so long in the first place but it’s nearly been five years now, maybe it is time to move on to something different. Think positive, you just have to think positive and things will be good. You’ll get a new job and you’ll make new friends and your boss will be kind and maybe not as weird.
Exiting the room, you sit back at your desk that’s located outside Gojo’s office. It’s hard to focus when you’ve got so much on your mind but sometimes you think that he wouldn’t get anything done if you weren’t around.
You’d gotten a text earlier about how he had an early meeting but you know he doesn’t, he’s probably just left the office to go get himself some sweets. He won’t be back for a while either because he’s going to sit in a park or somewhere quiet and eat the evidence before he gets back to the office.
Why he even bothers to lie to you at this point is beyond you but you’ll ignore it because sometimes you want to be alone for an hour too. Unlike him though, you simply don’t have the luxury of doing that on company time.
When he does get back to the office he stops by your desk and smiles at you like he wasn’t just shirking his responsibilities for the better half of the day. He waits very impatiently for you to acknowledge him, and you continue typing at your computer like he’s not there.
Gojo eventually speaks up, “Saying good morning to your boss is the polite thing to do, by the way.”
You hold up a hand while you finish up your email and send it off, only then do you look up and raise a brow at him, “Morning? Gojo… it’s nearly midday and you’re only just now coming into the office.”
“I told you I had a meeting,” he pouts because he knows he’s caught. “And how many times have I told you to call me Satoru?”
“If you had a meeting it’d go through me because no one trusts you to show up to the ones you agree to.” You look back down at your computer and continue working, ignoring the second thing he said.
Sighing dramatically at you, “You’re so mean to me.”
Not even looking up at him when you retort, “If I were nicer to you would your job get done?” He doesn’t answer and you add, “That’s what I thought.”
“I’ll get all my work done so quick you’ll be embarrassed about doubting me.”
“Uh huh,” as he walks off you call after him, “you’ve got chocolate on your tie.”
Gojo pauses, looks down to his tie and then uses his finger to try and swipe it off, “No, I don’t.” He scuttles away into his office.
It’s then that you’re remembering the letter you’d put on his desk and you decide it’s time for your break. Sneaking away, you hide a few floors down in the employee break room. Your hands cradling a cup of tea that was hot but has now gone cold in the time you’ve been holding onto it. You’re staring blankly at it, not knowing how you’re going to face Gojo when he’s read your resignation.
He’s a bit of a drama queen and you’re not sure… you don’t even want to leave so having him fuss over it might make you feel worse. Oh, but what if he doesn’t care. What if he doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t feel like you’re all that important to him. That might be worse. You’re in a hell of your own making.
You’re brought from your spiralling thoughts by a hand on your shoulder, jumping at the touch and looking up to see Nanami. His face is as stoic as ever but his eyes are laced with a mild concern for you.
You talk before he can ask, “I’m fine, just daydreaming.”
A sound of acknowledgement comes from him, not believing you but pacified enough to move on and make himself a cup of coffee. Not facing you when he says, “Gojo’s looking for you.”
Frowning, “What? How do you know?”
He sits down across from you and plainly states, “Because I walked past him and he asked where you were.”
A small grumble leaves you, it’s just not possible to avoid him for the whole day and even if you could, you couldn’t do it for two full weeks.
“What’s going on?”
Your tea is too cold to drink now and you push it away, “Do you really want to know or are you just being polite?”
He takes a sip of his coffee like he’s giving himself time to think about his answer, “…I want to know.”
“I have to resign,” is all you say.
Nanami nods, “Well, that explains the frantic look on his face.”
Scoffing at him because that sounds ridiculous, “I left the letter on his desk and then hid.”
“You can’t hide forever.”
“I can try,” you smile, “he’s always showing up late and sneaking out anyways, I’ll probably be able to avoid him.”
The look on his face conveys severe doubt but he doesn’t comment on your words, “Why are you leaving?”
“None of your business.”
“You’re the only reason why communicating with Gojo is bearable, you leaving is going to be a nightmare for so many people.”
Your eyes roll at the sentiment, “Well, gee, I’ll miss you too.” A silence falls over the two of you and you explain, “I gotta move home for financial reasons.” It’s not everything but you don’t feel like spilling your guts to him right now.
“Ask for a raise,” he shrugs, “you deserve it.”
“It’d have to be one hell of a raise,” you fold your arms on the table and lay your head on them.
His tone comes out monotonous, “There there.”
Mumbling against your arms in reply, “You’re such a comfort, Nanami.”
“I know.”
The clicking of heels alerts you to someone else in the room but you don’t bother lifting your head to look. Not that you need to, the voice letting you know it’s Shoko, “Gojo’s looking for you.”
“I’m aware,” you sigh.
She sits down next to you, “If you’re hiding from him, this was a poor choice because I’m pretty sure he’s on his way here.”
“Have I got time to run?”
There’s a hand on your head, a tight lipped, “No,” coming from above you.
Ah, you’re caught. Sitting up, you smile at Gojo like you’ve not been hiding from him, “Gojo, is there something you need me for?”
He doesn’t bother trying to get you somewhere private, “Why are you resigning?”
Shoko asks, “You’re resigning?”
Sighing out a tired, “Yes,” before getting to your feet and walking out the room.
Immediately, Gojo is hot on your tail, “Why? Why are you resigning?” He keeps pestering you despite the fact you’re not answering, “Is it something I did? Have I been a bad boss? Do you want me to show up on time more?” A pause, “Is it because I never bring you back any sweets? I’m sorry! I just get so excited to eat them…”
Your foot taps impatiently as you wait for the elevator, arms folded and feeling frustrated by him. “It’s nothing to do with you…” he’s generally a good boss, a bit odd but he’s a good person and you’re quite attached to him, “though, you should be showing up on time.”
“Are you really not going to tell me why you’re leaving me?”
“I think my letter covered it.” The elevator dings and his presence is felt looming over you as he follows you in.
“Your letter didn’t cover shit,” he grumbles, “it was all that polite corporate speak.”
“It’s not a big deal, Gojo.” Your eyes meet his properly for the first time and he looks so genuinely hurt, it’s making this harder for you. “It’s nothing you did, nothing the company did. No one did anything, it’s just time to move on.”
“I literally cannot survive without you.” He blinks, “My company is going to go bankrupt without you and then Suguru’s will be number one, is that what you want?”
“If Geto’s company is ever number one it’s because he shows up on time and doesn’t ignore calls from clients.”
He scowls. “They should be calling you anyways, the old bastards only call me because they enjoy pissing me off.”
“Poor, poor, rich boy,” you say, looking away from him.
Gojo’s brows pinch up. “There’s nothing I can do to make you stay?”
“Nope.”
The pair of you walk off the elevator together and he’s still closer than necessary, like you’re going to disappear at any minute. “I’ve got two weeks to change your mind,” he singsongs.
It’s been a few days since that awkward conversation with Gojo and he’s been in the office every day… on time. You thought maybe the first day was just a fluke but then he kept showing up and staying. His behaviour is unpredictable at the best of times but this is the first time in the five years that you’ve been here that he’s shown up on time for multiple consecutive days.
Whatever, you’ve just been ignoring him and continuing your work. At least you would be but he’s not giving you anything to do. Suddenly, he’s interested in doing everything himself and actually staying on top of things. If this is his way of getting you to stay… it’s not working. Not only do you have nothing to do but you’re worried that he’s fucking things up.
A few hours since you’ve been in office and you’re officially bored, staring blankly at your quiet inbox. This isn’t going to work for you, you get up and walk into Gojo’s office. He’s tapping away at his keyboard and you’re a little surprised by the focus on his face.
Pursing your lips as you stand in front of his desk, feeling conflicted on whether or not you should disturb him when he’s like this. There’s papers spread out on the surface beside him, his usually clean desk now messy.
“Gojo, I’m still your assistant until the end of next week,” your voice is gentler than how you feel, taking pity on him.
He doesn’t look to you, eyes firmly on the screen. “Not if I can convince you to stay.”
“I don’t know how many times I have to say this,” you take a step closer, “but my resignation has nothing to do with you, so there is nothing you can do to change my mind.”
His eyes meet yours then, he looks tired.
Continuing to add, “All you’ve done is make me redundant, stop stealing my work and do your own.”
“I won’t hire anyone else.”
“The board will make you.” Tilting your head at him, trying to add some levity, “And there’s no way you’re not messing things up.”
He points at you, “Hey! I’ve been very diligent.”
“Which you won’t be able to keep doing long-term.” Reaching up, you tap the tip of his finger with your own.
That has him deflating, falling back into his chair and humming at you, “Okay, have all your stupid and tedious work back.”
“I will.” You glare at him as you lean over to pick up the papers off his desk.
Shuffling through them, you can see they’re a bunch of companies reaching out and trying to set up meetings or sending through complaints. Things you usually handle before he sees because it’s not worth his time.
“So much of that stuff shouldn’t be coming to me.” He’s leaned in closer, annoyance clear on his expression. “It shouldn’t even be going to you; they should be communicating through the team they’re dealing with.”
“Yes, well, a lot of companies overestimate their importance to you.” Picking through the stack quickly, you pull out the papers that are solely for him and put them down on his desk.
His brow raises to you, “Now, where did they get that idea?”
“Who knows?” You smile politely.
His people person skills are severely lacking, especially when it comes to dealing with formalities. You may or may not be making up for it.
“I’ll get back to you about these.” Hand shaking the papers, “Do not even try sneaking off, I’ll need you here while I sort through this mess you’ve no doubt made.”
“I told you I’ve been diligent.”
“And I have absolutely no reason to doubt that.” Turning to leave before stopping. “You should keep coming in on time and staying the whole day, it’s nice.”
Gojo’s groan is heard as you walk back out his office.
After you took back your workload, Gojo decided to try and make you stay through other means. It’s almost as flattering as it is distracting. The very next day and he’s taken to pulling a chair in front of your desk and sitting with you. His arm holding up his head, chin resting in his palm. It’s got you on edge, he’s just watching you. Eyes tracking your every movement, silent like he’s maybe trying to think of something to say.
“Is there something you need, sir?” Phrasing it in a certain way in hopes of reminding him he’s your boss with his own work to worry about.
“Nope.” The singular word popped back at you.
Looking to your screen, you pull up his calendar, “So… you’re all prepped for the meeting later today at three?”
It’s silent and it prompts you to look at him again. The reply you’d been expecting comes only when your eyes meet. “I’m so prepared,” his smile is easy-going and you don’t feel the same.
“Are you sure? Because you’ve just been sitting here doing nothing.”
“Don’t worry about what I’m up to.”
“All I do is worry,” you glare at him, “it’s like my whole job.”
Obviously able to tell you’re growing a bit exasperated now and switching to flattery, “And you’re very good at it.”
“I could be better at it if you’d be a more willing participant in your own company.”
“Bleh,” he pulls his head back and waves his hand at you, the expression on his face disgusted.
You ignore the fact that you don’t find him as annoying as you probably should and change the topic, “Well, while you’re here doing anything but your job, I have some applications you can look through.”
“Applications?” He looks at you curiously and takes the papers you’re handing him.
There isn’t an answer from you as he reads them, his face scrunching up more and becoming annoyed as he realises what it is he’s looking at.
“Resumes?” Gojo’s voice has lost its chirpiness, coming a bit strained, “I didn’t know we were hiring.”
“I know you won’t do it yourself, so I put up an advert yesterday,” you point at the resumes he’s holding, “those are the best applicants.”
“I don’t want anyone else.”
“I can’t stay, Gojo. It’s out of my control.”
It’s his turn to glare, it’s the first time he’s been this angry with you. You still won’t tell him why you’re leaving because you’re embarrassed and also, you’re becoming a little concerned that he’d actually give you an insane raise. You can do without that guilt.
“Fine.” He eventually says.
A breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding leaves you, “Thank you.”
He starts going through the pile, “This isn’t an entry level job,” he flicks away that applicant. “No references,” another chucked. “Wouldn’t be able to put up with me,” that one is crumpled. “This one’s messy,” gone. “This person has put under hobbies ‘organising’,” he squints like he’s weirded out before deciding, “trying too hard,” ultimately it’s chucked too. The rest of the pile discarded in much of the same manner.
You’ve watched him in disbelief, blinking at him, “They all had better resumes than I did.”
“I didn’t want an assistant before you and I won’t want one after,” he shrugs.
Fingers rubbing into your temples, “How did I even get hired when you’re this picky.”
“You’ve raised my standards,” he praises you, “and your resume was so ugly looking that I wanted to see who sent it in.”
You gape at him, shocked, “That’s why I got the interview!?”
“And you got the job because you put up with me during,” his tone has softened again, “you adjust to your surroundings well and it impressed me, even if your resume didn’t.” He thinks for a moment, “Well, your resume actually did impress me but only because it was awful—”
“—Stop,” holding a hand up, “I can’t believe you hired me because you hated my application that much.”
“Don’t leave me,” leaning in on your desk, “I don’t think I’ll ever see a resume that ugly ever again.”
Grumbling and falling back into your chair, you cross your arms. “I knew I shouldn’t have worked here.”
He grins and stands to his feet. “Don’t show me anymore applicants, they’ll immediately get thrown away.”
“Gojo—” You call after him.
“—Bye bye now.” He’d cut you off, done with this conversation and the direction it was headed.
It’s Monday again and you’re concerned about what Gojo’s going to pull this week. Last week he’d obviously stolen all your work rendering you redundant and stared at you disconcertingly for nearly an hour before revealing he’d hired you because of your shit application. He also brought you back various treats every time he left the office, not to mention the insane amounts of praise he kept sneaking into conversation.
It's not something entirely new from him but he’s taken to doing it far more often lately and you hate how much you don’t hate it. His compliments making you a little flustered every time, you weren’t aware how much you liked being reaffirmed until he started doing it so obviously and frequently.
Apparently, he must’ve caught on to you not hating it because he’s not stopped. The grin on his face self-satisfied every time he does it, pleased by your reactions. You don’t know if your heart is going to make it through this week but it’s your last, so you don’t have much of a choice either way.
In the lobby, you run into Shoko. Greeting her with a small smile, “Good morning.”
“Morning, quitter,” she smiles back.
“Ouch,” you hiss jokingly.
Her head tilts at you, “Ah, you lasted five years, it’s impressive really.”
“I’m not resigning because of him,” you roll your eyes.
The rumours in the office have been abundant to say the least, everyone blaming your leaving on Gojo. You correct people every time but they either don’t believe you or are too excited about gossip to let themselves really hear you.
“You’d be the first,” sucking on her teeth as she recounts, “I think there was… five? six? Before you. They all quit because they couldn’t put up with him.” She pauses. “Though, he didn’t hire them personally.”
“Didn’t you hear? He only hired me because he hated my resume.”
“Good luck finding another job with it then.”
You chuckle at that. “I’ll miss you, Shoko.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she brushes you off, “if you really were gonna miss me, you wouldn’t be quitting.”
“For someone who’s so unamused by Gojo, you sure sound like him sometimes.”
She side eyes you, “Take that back.”
“Nope!” You laugh as you walk away.
At your desk, the first thing you do is pull up Gojo’s calendar. Double checking that you’re remembering the itinerary for today properly. He’s got a meeting just before midday with a large company, you’ve been trying to secure a meet with them for months and they finally caved. Taking them on as a client would be a huge win for the company and it’d bring Gojo joy because he knows Geto has been trying to secure a deal with them too.
Competition isn’t something you invest a whole lot of your time in personally but you can’t help but feel happy when Gojo ‘wins’. This week is going to be gruelling; it’s getting harder to ignore how much you enjoy your job. You thought it wasn’t going to be such a big deal. It’s a job, you do it and if you need to, you find another.
Everyone here will be part of what you miss though, you won’t get to work alongside Gojo anymore… Pushing down those feelings of affection, you start your day how you often do and check your inbox. Seeing the first emails coming through as soon as business hours are official always amuses you as much as it pisses you off.
The sound of a soft tap on your desk startles you, it’s just Gojo but you’re still not quite used to his early (on time) arrivals. He’d set a coffee down for you, expression bright as he smiles at you.
You reach for the drink, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he singsongs. “Feel like staying?”
“Because you bought me a cup of coffee?”
“Among other things.”
You’re thinking of how to answer him when he yawns and stretches his shoulders back. He seems tireder than usual, “You been sleeping okay?”
He takes the opportunity to whine, “No, my favourite employee is leaving me.”
“That must be agony for you.”
“It is,” eyes sparkling, “it’s awful, I wish she would just see reason.”
Instead of replying to that, you remind, “Don’t forget your meeting at eleven.”
Dropping the pleading look, he replies, “How could I forget? Stingy bastards took forever just to agree to meet.”
“Try to have a better attitude when you talk with them.”
“You know what would make my attitude better?” Grin on his face showing that he’s clearly plotting something.
“Dare I ask?”
“You basically did.” He points at you and then himself, “You come with me.”
A range of emotions go through you at that but it’s mostly reluctance, “Do I have to?”
“I’m your boss… so, yes?” Not waiting for your reply. “Be ready by ten-thirty.”
It’s going to be a long week indeed.
By the time ten-thirty rolls around, you’re in the garage of the building with Gojo. He’s guiding you towards his car and you’re confused, “Where’s Ijichi?”
“I don’t know,” his answer is dismissive.
“Should we wait?” you frown and look at your phone, “…I don’t want you to be late.”
Clicking on the keys, the car beeps as it unlocks, “We’re not gonna be late.” He moves around to the driver’s side and opens it, stopping before getting in when he sees you’re not moving. “Get in.”
Incredulous look on you face, “Can you even drive?”
“That’s so insulting, I’m a fantastic driver.”
You’re sceptical but get in the car anyways, not willing to be late because you were squabbling with your boss.
“Why am I coming with you?”
He hums, “Because I have a surprise for after.”
“Couldn’t you have just picked me up after the meeting?”
“No. If I have to go then you do too.”
Grumbling back at him, “You’ve never made me come before.”
“If I leave you in the office you might run away before Friday,” his tone carries a playful lilt.
“You’re so dramatic.”
By the way, he is decidedly not a fantastic driver.
The surprise he was talking about was lunch, he’s taken you out for lunch. You’re overwhelmed and feel underdressed, it’s a nice place that you definitely cannot afford.
Just as he’s about to walk inside, you grab his sleeve and pull him back, “Gojo, I can’t afford lunch here.”
He snickers at you, “You thought I’d force you to a meeting with me and then take you out to lunch and make you pay?”
You say nothing.
“Seriously? What do you take me for?” A hand rests over his heart like you’ve wounded him.
Frowning at him, “I’m… I’m also a little underdressed.” Wearing business casual doesn’t feel appropriate for here.
“You look great,” he compliments, “you always look great.”
It feels like your skin grows hotter just from that simple compliment. You can’t linger on it for too long though. From just off to the side of Gojo, you spot Geto and you know this lunch is going to be on the rocks. “Please remain calm and remember that you just got new clients and how nice that feels.”
About to ask what the hell you’re going on about when Geto makes himself known, hand on Gojo’s shoulder. “What a coincidence, Satoru.” He smiles politely, nodding his head at you in acknowledgement.
You’ve always been neutral towards Geto, if you had to describe him in a word, you’d say he’s gracious. But you’re not stupid, you can tell he enjoys pressing peoples buttons. If you didn’t know any better you’d think it was merely an accident but you do know better and you can tell he does it because he gets a kick out of it. He’s similar to Gojo in that way.
“Suguru,” Gojo gives a tight smile. “What are you doing on this side of town?”
Oh, he’s already annoyed by his presence.
“This and that,” answer kept vague deliberately. “You guys about to have lunch?”
“Yes.” You answer respectfully, not forgetting your manners.
From what you know, Gojo and Geto used to be close friends working at the same company before Gojo moved up. Geto left after that and started his own company. Usually, Gojo isn’t so annoyed by him but he’s been a little extra touchy about things ever since you put in your resignation.
“That sounds great,” you reply before Gojo can. Geto walks in ahead of you both and you tug on Gojo to get him to lean down. “It’s just lunch, we’ll both survive.”
“I’m not so sure,” he mumbles back.
It’s awkward, incredibly so. Geto knows that Gojo got the client they’ve both been angling at and it’s all grins with hidden meanings and sly jabs. It’s hard to enjoy the food when you’re stuck observing this disaster of clashing egos.
After a lull in the conversation, Geto suddenly says, “I heard you’re quitting.”
You’re taken aback, you didn’t realise that company gossip would travel so far, “Yes… I am resigning.” Putting emphasis on the last word because you don’t appreciate the attachments to quitting.
Gojo’s tense, you can tell.
Geto pushes past your slight attitude. “May I ask why?”
“You may ask,” you smile politely, taking a page out of his book.
He doesn’t even blink, “Well, if you’re looking for a new job I’d be happy to take you off Satoru’s hands.”
Gojo scoffs at that, “She’s still my employee, you know?”
“From what I hear, not for much longer.”
You hate that you even semi consider Geto’s offer, he’s unfortunately closer to your parents’ home so you could live there and travel to his company. It’d upset Gojo though and you don’t know if you have it in you, even if it is just business.
Stopping their bickering with a simple refusal. “I’m fine, thank you for the offer.”
“It doesn’t expire,” Geto pushes, “if you change your mind, you’ve got a job with me.”
“I want to remind you I’m a personal assistant, Geto, not some highly sought-after marketing whizz.” You can’t understand the push for you, other than he knows it’ll piss off Gojo and you don’t play those games.
Clearly, not one to be shaken so easily, “Oh, I wouldn’t sell yourself so short.”
“Alright, I’m done being all civil now,” Gojo stands up abruptly, “We’re leaving and you can pay the bill for pissing me off, Suguru.”
“Gojo,” you scold him lightly but he’s not budging, “I’m very sorry, Geto,” standing up as well, “lunch was nice.”
Gojo grumbles, “Don’t apologise for me, I’m not sorry.”
Geto ignores Gojo and replies to your last statement, “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
“Over my dead body,” Gojo points at him.
And then you’re being tugged out of the restaurant, following after an uncharacteristically angry Gojo. It’s not like he’s especially polite and he’s always had little jabs with Geto but it always seemed more like a friendly rivalry to you. To have this kind of reaction isn’t usual and you don’t really know how to approach talking to him now.
It’s not until you’re back in the car that he’s huffing, “Can you believe that? He tried stealing you out from behind my back… in front of me!”
“It’s just business, don’t let it get to you.” You mean it as a comfort but his eyebrow twitches.
He starts the car and mutters, “Not to me.”
Today is your last day. It’s been a busy week so Gojo didn’t bother you as much, anytime you spoke it concerned work. Well, that’s not completely true, he was still trying to get you to stay and begged a little but otherwise.
You don’t feel ready to leave, you know all you’d have to do is say you want to stay and Gojo would welcome you with open arms but you can’t make it work… not right now. It’s already been hard on you physically with all the moving preparations and now it’s hard on you emotionally. You don’t think people usually feel this much regret about resigning, shouldn’t you be all relieved or something.
After work, you and your empty apartment have a date with lots of alcohol. Drinking before you move may not be a great idea but you thought living with a guy would be a good idea and look how that turned out. Fuck him. This situation is so draining and unfair and you wish you could go back and change things but you’re stuck with the cards you’re dealt.
It’s quitting time soon, the hour hand on the wall across from you slowly inching towards six. Your riveting clock watching is interrupted by Gojo standing in front of it, “Could you go down to the employee floor and give this to Nanami?”
He hands you over a file and you take it without complaint, what’s another few extra minutes on your last day. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”
You’re restless, caught between wanting to get out of here and not wanting your last day to end. The elevator dings and opens to the employee floor, when you step out you’re confused by how dark it is. It’s borderline scary, you’ve seen enough scary movies to know that you don’t stay on an empty and ominous dark floor.
About to turn around and head back for the elevator when the lights flick on and people jump out at you. You don’t have a physical reaction aside from a slight jump, only staring blankly and screaming on the inside. Taking in your surroundings you realise it’s a bunch of familiar faces standing underneath a shoddily painted banner that reads ‘we’ll miss you’ with a very small ‘quitter’ written under that. It’s like it was added last minute in pen and you have a feeling Shoko did it.
Gojo runs up from behind you, “Holy fuck, we have so many stairs,” he looks to your face and then at everyone else, “did she scream?”
Nanami answers him, “No, she’s just been staring like that the whole time.”
Gojo moves to stand in front of you, asking, “You okay? Did we get you too good?”
Everyone starts murmuring and you’re very suddenly overwhelmed by all the emotions you’ve been stuffing down all week. Tears slipping from your waterline and trailing down your cheeks before you can stop them.
“Woah, what’s wrong?” he’s fussing over you, “Hey, I’m sorry, we just wanted to send you off properly.”
You use the back of your hands to wipe at your face, “Sorry, I need a moment.” Pushing the file Gojo had given you towards him before running off to hide in the bathroom.
Taking deep breaths, you try to calm down but it’s hard when you’re also dying of embarrassment. It was really nice of them; you weren’t expecting anything so to have so many people set up a going away party was really sweet but it’s just another reminder of your shitty situation and your reluctance to leave.
A soft tap on the door alerts you to someone’s presence, “Can I come in?” Gojo calls.
“No,” you call back.
It’s quiet and then he says, “I’m gonna come in anyways.” True to his word, he enters the bathroom but he doesn’t say anything more.
Unprompted you apologise, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I didn’t mean to cry,” sniffling, “I’m embarrassed.”
“Don’t worry about that,” he walks in closer to you, placing a hand on top of your head. “If you’re so upset you could always stay.”
You laugh a little bitterly at that. “I’m fine now, I’ll come out and we can celebrate.”
“I can send everyone home if you’re not feeling up to it.”
“No, I want to say goodbye to everyone,” you look up to him, “thank you for doing this.”
“Of course,” he tucks his hands into his pockets, expression a little shy, “I couldn’t not give my favourite employee a send-off.” His upper body moves in a little like he’s going to share a secret, “I wanted to do something bigger but Shoko told me not to.”
A smile is on your lips at that, it’s so like him to want to go big. You owe Shoko for that advice, if he’d done something grand you’d be even more embarrassed than you already are. “Let’s go back.”
It’s not rowdy, it’s an office party so it’s mostly mingling and eating some snacks but it’s nice and it beats the hell out of getting drunk alone in an empty apartment. Nanami is the only one you’d given a reason as to why you’re leaving and he’d kept it to himself so you get a bunch of questions but you field them all pretty easily.
Your eyes keep finding their way back to Gojo before you feel a pang of guilt or sadness and you look away. Things slowly die down as more and more people head home and before it becomes too obvious, you slip away back upstairs to your desk.
Gojo’s office is left slightly open and you walk inside; it’s dark. The only light entering the room is coming from the surrounding building lights. You move to stand in front of the large window and look out to appreciate the view. You’re going to miss this part of the city.
“You’re not planning on robbing me on your last day are you?” Gojo asks from the door.
Getting over the shock of him suddenly appearing, you joke, “Are you kidding? I’ve been robbing you blind since my first day here.”
He crosses the room to stand beside you, “Only cause I let you.”
“What a gentleman.”
“I’m gonna say it one more time,” he looks to you, “stay.”
You don’t know how to answer him so you just lean in and hug him.
His arms wrap around you, “This isn’t very professional of you.”
“Cause you’re so professional,” you murmur back, “also you’re not my boss anymore.”
The both of you don’t say anything, just holding each other. Probably far too intimate for a working relationship but… you really needed this. It’s nice, he’s big and warm and he holds you gently. It’s giving you a lot of comfort and at the same time it’s making you want to cry again.
“I’ll miss you, Gojo.”
“I think you’ll be the first to.”
“Not true.” As much grief as everyone gives him, they’d still miss him.
He laughs a little and lowers himself so his lips are by your ear, “I’ll miss you, too.”
A shiver goes down your spine at his voice and you pull back to look at him. His face is close to yours and your eyes linger on his lips. Doing your very best to look into his eyes, you say, “Don’t ruin the company just because I’m gone.”
“I wouldn’t want to ruin all your hard work,” he grins.
You roll your eyes and move to untangle from him. He doesn’t let you. “What are you—”
Gojo’s closed the gap between the two of you with a kiss, a large hand cradling the side of your face. His thumb strokes high on your cheekbone as his lips implore yours. It doesn’t take you long at all to react, hands grabbing onto his jacket and kissing him back.
It’s overwhelming, his kiss all consuming. Almost like he’s been waiting for the perfect opportunity to kiss you like this. Lips insistent on yours, his body coming closer with a single step forward. His hand on your face tilts you up, thumb trailing to the hinge in your jaw and pressing.
You’re opening your mouth to him more and he sighs happily, licking to deepen the kiss as much as he can. It’s dizzying, mind slowly slipping of focus the longer he holds you. Your body shudders against your will because it’s never felt this good to be kissed before.
Pushing back on him, afraid you’re about to lose your mind and all he’s done is kiss you. Gojo pulls back with a suck of your tongue and your legs nearly falter, small whine leaving you. He’s stopped but he’s not moving back, hand still on the side of your face, the other having moved down to rest on your hip.
“You want me to stop here?” He asks, thumb pulling on your lower lip teasingly.
“This isn’t really—”
“Appropriate?” He asks, closer than he was before, lips almost touching yours, “Like you said… I’m not your boss anymore.”
Fuck it.
You’re the one to close the gap this time, kissing him again. It’s messier than before, an even more heated exchange and you’re realising he was being gentle with you a moment ago. Mood suddenly changed as it feels like he’s aiming to devour you whole.
He spins you so your back is against the cold glass of the window, his lower body pressing close to you. Able to feel his erection, it’s scandalous and making you tingle. You wrap your arms around his neck and he moves his hands down lower, sliding to your lower back. His fingers twitch against you like he’s holding back from touching you more.
Lips parting again so he can trail his kisses lower, burying his face into the side of your neck. Teeth nip at your flesh and you gasp, “Gojo!”
His smile reaches his eyes, “Something to remember me by,” he laves over the mark with his tongue.
Your heart twinges when you realise that your close relationship with him is ending and suddenly you’re asking, “Leave another?”
Gojo laughs a little breathlessly at that, “Hah, don’t have to tell me twice.”
He leaves another mark at your request, and then another lower down before trailing back up, his nose brushing against your neck until his lips meet yours. Words coming mumbled as he keeps kissing you, “You smell so fucking good.”
“Just shut up…” you grumble back, “and kiss me more.”
You know he wants to make another smartass comment but your shoving your tongue in his mouth to keep him quiet, he seems to be right where he wants to be though. Hands growing bolder as he grabs your ass and tugs you closer, grinding his erection against you.
Breaths coming heavy as you comment, “Pervert.”
“If I were a pervert…” he hums happily, “I’d do something more like this.” One of his hands is off your ass and slipping into the front of your pants, fingers swiping through your folds over your underwear.
A gasp leaves you, fingers digging into his shoulders as your knees grow weak. He’s prodding at your hole through your panties, almost penetrating if it weren’t for the material of them. It’s cruel, your arousal seeping into your underwear providing a slick glide for him to slide up to your clit.
“My,” he comments as if he’s shocked, “aren’t you a little too wet over a few kisses?”
“You can’t talk,” you pout, skin warming.
His eyes are bright with mischief. “Don’t be embarrassed,” finger carefully circling your clit and keeping you on edge, “it’s cute.” Sliding back to your dripping hole, “Though…” teasing you there too and then trailing back to your clit again, “you being embarrassed is cute too.”
“Are you– hff– gonna tease me the whole time?” You blink up at him.
“Probably.”
Hips rocking slightly, needy for him to touch you more, “Aren’t you being unreasonable?”
“I don’t think so.” He’s purposefully avoiding giving you what you’re seeking.
Your head falls to rest against him, hands gripping his shirt. Pleasure that feels just a little too distant running through you, making you weak and frustrated. Legs shaky to stand on with how antsy you’re getting. You should’ve guessed that he’d be a tease by how he acts regularly.
On the brink of asking him to touch you properly when he slips his hand under your panties, fingers immediately sliding inside your weeping cunt. You’re left gasping out a pathetic moan as he borderline whines. Clinging to him desperately as he angles his digits to hit the sweetest spots inside you. Slow in his pursuit, like he’s learning what gets the best reactions from you.
Gojo’s control is slipping, the tight grip you have on his fingers making it hard to think. Not to mention just how hot and wet you are, he’s not sure how he’s going to last fucking you when you feel this divine around his fingers alone.
Moans tumble from your lips and you struggle to stifle them back down, trying to rock your hips against his hand for anything more he’ll give you. It’s messy, dripping down into the palm of his hand, no doubt ruining your panties in the process. The sound of him finger fucking you obscene and too loud. Your skin is hot and you’re embarrassed from just how horny you’ve gotten, whimpering as he crooks his digits up and hits something sweet.
“Fuck– come over here,” Gojo pulls his fingers from you and tugs you over to his desk. He lifts you to sit on top of it effortlessly, hands tugging your pants and underwear off in one go. Movements rushed, impatience clear.
He’s sitting back into his desk chair and rolling forward a bit, hands resting atop your thighs. You ask him, “What are you doing?”
The answer comes incredibly blunt, “I’m gonna make out with your pretty pussy while you sit on my desk.” All smiles as he pushes your thighs apart, “I’m gonna think about this view every time I sit here from now on.”
Tongue boldly licking through your folds and making you squeal, your hand threads through his hair for something to hold onto. Quickly discovering just how good at this he really is, sliding his tongue inside your cunt and slurping at you lewdly.
Gojo eats you like a man starved, fingers digging into your plush skin as he holds you open. Your juices drip down his chin and onto his desk and all he can think about is how good you taste and how cute you are when you twitch around his tongue and how he’s probably going to get hard just thinking about this later.
Of course, he’s also going to be playing the whines and moans you’re letting out on repeat in his head later too. Finding everything about you completely endearing, even more so in your dishevelled and aroused state. To have you melting under his touch is almost too much for his poor heart to take.
Your lungs seize in your chest at how good it feels, his nose grinding into your clit with how close he’s pressed his face into you. If you had any higher brain function in this current moment, you’d be concerned if he could even breathe.
It’s getting harder and harder to sit still, desperate to move your hips in response to his stimulation. You’re falling back onto your elbows, hoping to leverage yourself better to rut against his face but he’s stronger than you anticipated. As if in punishment for your impatience, he pulls his tongue from you and trails it up to your clit. Licking it gently before wrapping his lips around it and sucking.
The feelings that run through you are immense and head spinning, feet kicking at the shock of it. Your elbows shake and give out, back bowing up in response. Hand reaching back for his head, tugging on his hair which only has him moaning against you. The vibrations have your hole twitching. Ever observant, Gojo stuffs two of his fingers inside you. Hitting all those perfect little spots he’d found earlier. Apparently having learnt a lot about your body in a short time.
“Gojo– hng– you gotta stop– hff– I’m gonna—”
His eyes look up to you, glinting mischievously. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Mouth off you long enough to say, “I’m not gonna stop.”
Almost as soon as his lips are back around your clit are you cumming; twitching and writhing through the high flooding your senses. All sensitive and whingey as he keeps fucking you with his digits. You can’t hear anything but the blood rushing in your head, feeling as though you’re floating.
That is, until Gojo pushes you dangerously close to overstimulation. His mouth off your clit, only to stuff his tongue back inside your cunt along with his fingers. Stretching you open as he eats you in a completely debauched manner.
“Too much– hnn– Gojo.” You push back on his forehead and he relents. “Perv.”
“Sorry sorry.” He grins, looking a little less than sorry about it.
He keeps your thighs open, admiring the way fresh slick drips from you entrance. He really wants to lean in and tongue your hole some more but he’ll refrain, diverting his focus to kiss your inner thighs. Sucking hickeys into your skin as much as he can, starting on the left before moving to the right. Getting a little too into it and biting your thigh a couple times, you twitch and whine at it and he doesn’t miss the way your pussy clenches around nothing in response.
Gojo gets to his feet and leans over top of you, pecking your cheek before kissing you deep and slow. It’s not hurried, taking his time to explore your mouth carefully. You don’t even realise he’d been unbuttoning your shirt at the same time until he’s moving away and opening it.
Hands quick to grope your tits over your bra, “Hmm… this is pretty,” he comments, fingers slipping under the strap and pulling back just to let it snap! back against your skin.
“Gojo!” you chastise, voice coming a little breathless.
He doesn’t even bother to take your bra off properly, just pushing it up and over your tits so he can gain direct access to your nipples. Head ducking back down to leave more marks on your soft skin, licking over your nipple to see what kind of reaction you’ll have. He’s not disappointed when you moan and tug at his hair.
Moving to rest his forehead against the valley between your breasts, he hums out, “You’re so perfect, from head to toe.”
“Don’t think flattery will get me to stay,” you joke, feeling bashful and trying to change his focus.
“How about a really good dick down?”
“Aren’t you a little too self-assured?”
Gojo stands up, shucking off his jacket and then beginning to unbutton his own shirt, “Ask me that again after we fuck.” He shrugs it off his shoulders and lets it fall to the ground.
You knew he was well built but seeing him shirtless is making you realise just how well built he is. All broad shoulders and toned abs, it’s a little hard to stay focused when you’re this horny and he’s that hot shirtless. Happy trail leading out of his pants to his belly button making your mouth water and you’re suddenly remembering that it’s rude to stare when you look back into his eyes.
Though obviously, Gojo takes it as a compliment. Large grin on his face at your blatant ogling. “Like what you see?” He asks.
“I didn’t say anything,” you turn away from him.
“You didn’t have to,” he laughs, “the hearts in your eyes said enough.”
“Oh, shut up.”
He starts unbuckling his belt, “Your pouting will only turn me on more.”
Sitting up as you tease, “You’ve got some weird kinks, huh?”
“Not at all, it’s just that I could get off to anything about you,” he replies smoothly.
You really shouldn’t find that as flattering as you do. “Not appropriate for the workplace, Gojo.”
“Getting tongue fucked on the CEO’s desk isn’t exactly appropriate either but here you are.” He reaches into his pants and pulls his cock out, hissing, “Plus, as you pointed out earlier, I’m not your boss anymore.”
There would definitely be some remark you’d make to that but your focus is kind of caught up on how big his dick is. You knew from it digging into you earlier that he was… well-endowed but to see it now is a little scary.
You point at it accusatorily, “There’s no way I’m taking that.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughs. “Don’t stress so much, it’ll fit.”
You quirk an eyebrow at him as if to ask, ‘you sure?’
“The foreplay wasn’t just for fun,” Gojo purrs, “though I definitely did have fun playing with your pussy—.”
Your hand slaps over his mouth, “Do you need to be so vulgar?”
He nods wordlessly from behind your hand, eyes bright with his enjoyment of this interaction.
You take too long to remove your palm and he’s licking it, your reaction immediate as you pull back with a grimace. “Ew, what the hell?”
“Ew? My tongue was literally in your mouth not five minutes ago,” his eyes roll at you.
“This and that are different things.”
“Uh huh,” brushing you off, “Open your legs more, I’m gonna blow my load before I even get inside you at this rate.”
Your legs cross at that, “Say pretty please.”
Gojo leans down and rests his hands on the desk either side of you, eyes level with yours, “Pretty please open your legs for me, sweetheart?”
There’s a bit of a begged tinge to his voice that makes you cave immediately, parting your legs again. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, humming happily, “Thank you.”
The head of his cock is dragged from your clit to your opening and back again, sliding himself through your folds a few times just to make you desperate. Ignoring the fact that you’re already desperate, needy for him to fill you to the brim.
“Stop being a tease.”
“I thought you were worried about it fitting?” He asks.
Your retort is fast, “I thought you were going to give me a good dick down?”
“I believe I said a really good dick down,” notching the head at your pussy hole, “but I’ll forgive you this time.” He doesn’t push in immediately, instead leaving a chaste peck on your lips before he murmurs against them, “Deep breath.”
About to tell him he’s ridiculous and something about his ego being heavy to carry around when your lungs are struggling, the initial slide of his cock entering you making all air knock from you. Nails clawing at his forearms either side of you, not even able to make a noise as he splits you open.
Stopping not even half-way to give you a second to breathe, “I told you to take a deep breath.”
“Hnn– I– hng—” You can’t even reply yet, stopping your attempts to fill your lungs with air.
Gojo’s head dips as he looks at where you’re both connected, “Fuuuck—” he tilts his head back to look up at the ceiling, “I’m gonna cum too early if you don’t relax.”
He’d already held off on cumming just from touching you a couple times, finally being inside you is driving him crazy. Not even at the half-way point and his dick is twitching like crazy, your cunt sucking him in greedily and clenched so tight around him. You’re still panting and struggling to wrap your head around the stretch of him and as cute as it is, it’s also a massive fucking turn on that’s making his life harder.
You’re falling forward into him, head resting on his chest, hands clinging to him desperately. Managing out through moans, “Why– hff– why is your dick so huge?”
Breathless laugh leaving him, “You’re being really cute.”
“Shut up.”
“Getting cuter.”
He wraps his arms around you, lips pressed to your ear. With the movement his cock slides just that bit more inside you. The sound of his soft, needy whine is ringing in your head and making you twitch. Practically creaming around him already, it’s embarrassingly early to be this much of a mess but he’s worked you up so much and you can’t help but fall deeper into the pleasure.
Desire is overflowing from you and you have no idea what to do with it, holding onto him tighter as a result. Turning to the side, you kiss him wherever you can, it doesn’t take long at all for him to dip and kiss you back hard. Getting lost in his lips, wishing you could somehow pull him even closer.
While distracted, Gojo takes the opportunity to fuck the rest of the way into your tight pussy. Your mouth is dropping open with a whine, feeling the tip of his dick against your cervix has you trembling. You can’t tell if you’re imagining it but you’d swear you can feel the thump thump! of the veins on his cock throbbing against your walls.
He lowers you down onto the desk but the movement has him shifting inside you and you’re whining again, back arching against the wooden surface. You wrap your legs around his waist, feeling the need to cling to him even more.
Gojo’s head tucks into the crook of your neck, his words coming out mumbled, “Ooh, you’re gonna have me dreaming about this.”
“You– hng– you have to move.” You can’t take any more of this slow pace, your pussy begging you—and him—to be fucked.
His face comes into view, expression struggling to stay cool, “You need to keep your legs open nice and wide for me then.”
Pout making its way onto your face immediately because you really want to keep him this close but you also really want to do what he says. “This better be worth the embarrassment.”
“It will be.”
He’s pulling away from you at the same time that you’re parting your legs, hoping you’ll get away with resting your inner thighs against his hips. Clearly, that’s not satisfactory enough for Gojo because he’s grabbing behind your knees and pulling your legs further apart. Manhandling you lewdly into a position that exposes you to his greedy eyes.
Sighed moan leaving him, “You’ve got such a pretty cunt.”
“You’ve– ah– got such a dirty mouth.” A laugh moves through his chest at your retort and you don’t understand why you’re feeling butterflies over it.
“I’m gonna move now, sweetheart.”
“Please.”
The heavy drag of his cock pulling back gives you a visceral reaction, fingers digging into his desk, looking for something to hold onto. Every inch of him rubbing up against something delicious with each one of his movements, no matter how small. Tuned into every sensation you’re experiencing and feeling so sensitive with it. You’re feeling everything, pussy creaming around him at it, clearly in love with his dick.
On the other hand, Gojo’s losing his fucking mind about as much as you are—if not more. His cock throbbing, pulsing inside your hot cunt. Even though he’s going insane over how sweet your pussy is, he’s still pausing when he’s pulled out. Watching how your hole twitches and convulses around the head of his dick. Fresh slick dribbling from you and sliding down his shaft, he’s not sure he’s ever going to be normal again.
Slamming his hips to yours in one movement and as soon as he starts, he can’t stop. Repeatedly fucking into you over and over, his eyes glazing over as whimpers spill from him. You’re not doing any better, whining and grabbing onto whatever’s closest, obviously needing something to keep you grounded.
He’s bullying your womb with his tip and you’re so close to cumming, only a few more thrusts and you’re finishing around him. Surprised by your own high, hips meeting his to ride it out. Teeth digging into your lower lip as your eyes roll, too involved in yourself and the pleasure to be embarrassed.
“God– hah– you’re already?– fuck!” Gojo can’t believe it, his heart hammering in his chest at how you cum. Your pussy sucking him in divinely, begging him to keep stuffing you full.
In your fucked out bliss, you slip up, “Satoru– hmf—”
It’s the first time you’ve used his given name and his brain short circuits, everything inside him excited and he can’t help himself. Whining pathetically as he cums, not a hint of shame from him. Caught up in how pretty his name sounded coming from your lips, a little slurred in your messy state.
Not able to stop his thrusts either, your mixed cum drooling down the sides of his cock as he keeps fucking you. Keeping you both on cloud nine to the point of overstimulation. The pair of you buzzing and lost in each other. Everything is hot and messy and feels so fucking good.
His brain is stuck in a loop of your pitiful voice calling for him. “You’re unbelievable– hnn– you should stay– hah– don’t leave.”
“I can’t– ngh—”
“Breaking my heart,” he sulks, hips slowing to a steady rut.
You can feel tingling all the way down to your toes. “That’d– hff– be more believable if you weren’t balls deep inside me.”
He finally stops, pelvis flush to you. Looking down his nose as he replies, “I’m multidimensional.” Sliding his hands from your legs to your waist, “And still horny.”
His dick slips from you and then he’s using his hold on you to flip you over so you’re face down on the desk. Taking a second to admire the way his seed drips from you before plugging it with his fat dick again. Shiver going down his spine, gaze trailing up your body. Disappointed by the lack of skin showing, you’re still wearing the unbuttoned shirt he neglected to properly remove in his impatience.
Touch gentle as he slides the sleeves down your arms, initially going to take it off but changing his mind at the last second. Instead, wrapping your wrists in it haphazardly and turning it into a makeshift restraint.
When you realise what he’s done, you struggle a little against it and then huff. Forehead resting against the wood, cunt overstuffed, and now restrained in your arm movements. You feel a little helpless and it makes your insides flutter.
Gojo checks in, “You good, sweetie?”
“Pervert,” you mutter in response.
“What was that?” Fingers unclasping your bra, sliding his hand over where it’d been fastened.
“I’m good,” you reply.
He pats your ass, smiling to himself, “Then this pervert’s gonna fuck you again.”
Pace instantly brutal, angling his hips so his dick drills into your weakest point. Already having figured out your body far better than you ever have, driving you to the brink of crying from how overwhelmingly good it feels.
You have nothing to hold onto, hands trapped behind you and forced to stay there. It’s got you squirmy, unable to ground yourself with anything and it’s manifesting as you wriggling and your toes curling. Panting and writhing below Gojo, digging your nails into the cotton of your shirt as a pitiful replacement for something sturdy.
Gojo groans, hands holding you still, his fingers digging into your plush skin. “Stay still, pretty.”
“Can’t– ngh– can’t help it.” Your eyes wet from unshed tears.
He moves one of his hands up to the back of your neck, putting just enough pressure there to stop your wriggling. Immobile under him now, taking what he’s giving you. Your pussy shaking around him, consumed by him and his presence. Trusting him wholly in this moment to do what will bring you both the most pleasure, a kind of trust you’ve not given to anyone before.
There’s a creamy ring around the base of his cock from your mixed cum, a sight that makes him even more aroused. Everything you do, everything about fucking you, is only working him up even more. Thinking he’s gotten as horny as he can possibly get only for you to whine, or call his name, or twitch, or pulse around him. Causing him to fall deeper and deeper into his own insanity, borderline unhinged from how you’re making him feel.
Everything feels so much more heightened now that you can’t take it out on the furniture, brain zeroing in on exactly where his tip is hitting or the sounds he’s making for you. The soft whines and moans from him are causing your brain to fry, tingling all over and smiling a little dumbly at how he sighs your name.
It feels so good, too good, it’s almost a little scary just how good it feels. Like you’re going to fall apart at any second and you have no idea of knowing when, kept on edge and waiting for the final thrust that will do you in.
Gojo can’t believe what’s in front of him, able to feel you so vividly but still feeling like he’s dreaming because it’s just too good to be true. But you are here below him, your pussy is crying around him and begging for more. It’s real and it’s heavenly and he’s greedy for more.
“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, “so pretty– hff– and smart and your cunt sucks me in so fucking nicely.”
Managing to pant back at him, “Don’t talk.” Your pussy betrays you though, jumping at his praise.
“Why not?” Soft laugh leaving him, “Feels like you like it.” He hums softly, hand tickling down your spine, “It’s– hah– like how you got flustered by me complimenting your work.”
You’d almost forgotten that, all his words of affirmation and the kindness he’d spilled in an attempt to get you to not resign. It didn’t work but it definitely did make you feel all fuzzy inside. “I don’t know what you’re– ah!– talking about.”
“I think someone has a thing for praise,” he giggles. “That’s okay, I can give you all the praise in the world.”
“I don’t,” you deny poorly. It’s hard to sound convincing when you’re full of his cock.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” you can hear the smile on his face, “you’re doing– haa– such a good job, pussy taking me so well. Being real nice to me too, all wet and needy.”
It’s fucked up how easily he reads you, it shouldn’t be allowed. “Stop– hm– I’m gonna cum if you keep—”
“—Gonna cum because you like being told what a hot cunt you have and how great it is to fuck.”
He’s so annoying, so persistent, so stubborn, and so good at getting you off. You’re cumming around him as he gives you his nasty version of a compliment, moans loud and embarrassing. It’s the hardest you’ve ever cum and it’s knocked the wind from your lungs. A mess of shivers and whines as you ride it out. His cock prolonging your high because he’s not stopped fucking you.
Gojo’s head tips back, eyes watching how you’re squeezing around him, “Fuck– fuck– oh my god– hah– that’s it, cum around me juuust like that.”
It feels fantastic, your bliss washing over you. It won’t stop feeling good, brain all mushy and thoughtless as you barely register his words. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, holding his own orgasm off through sheer willpower alone. “Satoru… you– hng– you gotta cum, please?”
“That’s not fair,” he whines.
You’re not playing fair. He’s trying his absolute hardest to prolong this moment, wanting it to never end and here you are asking him so very nicely to cum. He couldn’t possibly deny you, not when you’re so placid and sucking him in so lovingly. Pussy practically begging him for another one of his heavy loads.
Voice calling to him again, “Please, I want it.” And you do, you want to hear how his moans get even more pathetic as he finally lets himself go.
Not even all the way through your sentence does he fold for you, hands slamming down onto the desk as his hips jut forward, filling you to the brim with his achy dick. His pelvis keeps you so close to the edge of the desk, the wood digging into you.
Your hole flutters around him at his pretty moans and he feels every second of it, his sensitive cock reacting to it. “You feel sooo fucking good– ngh– I can’t take it, you’re killing me, sweetheart.”
He’s panting from above you, trying to catch his breath as his body shakes from aftershocks. The both of you twitchy messes, all heavy breaths and soft jerks. Your body is all limp on the desk, brain fuzzy and not thinking much of anything aside from how delightful everything feels.
In his hazy state, he manages to remember that you’re still restrained. Struggling a little to untangle the mess he made of your shirt and freeing your hands. Your arms fall to your sides, all lazy and fucked out.
Gojo slips from you and sits back onto his desk chair, taking you with him. Your head flops back onto his chest as you whine in protest but you’re too weak to stand. “Your cum is gonna get all over this chair.”
The laugh that he lets out vibrates against you, “It’s fine, I’m sure the owner won’t mind.” His big hands come around to your front, pulling your bra off properly before cupping your tits in them.
“The owner is a weird pervert.”
He’s playing with you, groping your tits how he pleases, “Oh, you’ve met him? Should I be jealous?”
You continue going along with his bit, “No, he’s some lazy guy who never shows up on time and always sneaks out to blow off work, I’d never have sex with him.”
“Wow, lucky I’m not him,” he tilts your head to the side and kisses you deep. Humming softly against you as he licks at your tongue. When he pulls back he asks, “So, was it a really good dick down or what?”
Your eyes grow wide and your skin heats up, “I refuse to answer that.”
“Because then you’d have to stay,” he grins back, arms moving to wrap around you.
There’s a quiet that goes over the both of you, “I can’t.”
He tucks his head into your neck, asking, “Are you finally going to tell me why?”
“If I told you why you’d want to help and I’m handling it on my own.” There’s a lot you can’t manage to tell him and needing to move is only the tip of the iceberg.
As much as he wants to argue back or push more information from you, he accepts your words, “There will always be a place here for you, I was serious about not hiring anyone else.”
These are your last moments with him, him being kind to you after giving you the best sex of your life and you can’t even be completely honest with him. Instead of mourning the moment before it’s over though, you let yourself be here. Held by him and warm.
𝒂ﾉ𝒏. thank you sm for reading !!! i'm sorry it took me so long to finish it 🥲 my writing speed fluctuates rapidly, i am who i ammmm. ngl i got most of this done ages ago and got stuck on the smut. ANYWAYS,, i have ideas for a second part with a little bit of angst and dramaaa but only if people want it smile ◡̈
also if it seems unrealistic to what working in marketing is like #sorry i've never worked corporate. i'm studying psych and worked as a lifeguard so i've got NO CLUE 😛
A/N; *ahem* forgive me for the poor writing, m a bit rusty oops
On Your P*ssy ♡
He fucking adores dragging his leaking cockhead back and forth through your drooling pussy lips, and loves the way your swollen folds cling desperately to his thick, veiny girth.
Precum oozes from his slit, mixing with your arousal to create a messy, slippery glide as he ruts against you harder, his hips snapping with raw need, teasing your entrance without mercy.
You spread your legs wide, letting him grind against your entrance without daring to slip inside, his cock rubbing directly over your swollen clit with every pass.
The friction builds until he's a breathy mess, pulling back just enough to press the tip right against that sensitive nub, circling it roughly while you whimper and buck your hips.
When he finally cums, he aims the first hot spurts straight onto your pussy, coating your outer lips and dripping down to soak your clit, the warmth making you shiver as he smears it in with lazy strokes.
And as he draws his name in silly lines across your pussy with his bulky tip, he shoots you that drunken grin with those lazy eyes of his.
Maybe he'll lick you clean off the bone with his tongue later.
He 100% will.
Follo. August. Bro Santa.
Inside You ♡
Nothing, literally nothing gets him off like the thought of filling you up to the brim, pounding deep into your tight pussy until you're leaking. And anytime you plead at him with those pretty eyes of yours, begging him to fill you up, his cock damn near grows an inch from excitement.
So when he finally gets to slowly force his thumping head past your puffy lips, he has a strong hand on your glisterning skin as his other broad hand palms at the fat of your ass, nails digging into your flesh.
The words spilling from his filthy tongue have you squirming and wiggling in his grip, feeling his chubby girth fill you inch by devastatingly fat inch, crown of his cock already teasing your most tender spots with each little rut he manages.
And your cunt engulfs him so deliciously, almost begging to feel more of him, to have him french kiss that spot hiding by your cozy walls. He plunges balls-deep into your soaked pussy in one swift and squelching thrust, his pelvis crashing into your swollen clit, echoing in a loud clap! right against your clit. Then he drives into you again, rhythmic plap plap plapping of wet flesh meeting flesh filling the the space between you two while your cunt gushes noisily around him.
Curses come out in low grunts as he drives knocks you further up on the sheets, your head jolting dangerously close to the headboard with every thrust. His balls drawing up tight, bitting his lip hard as he nears his limit, almost whining at the thought of pumping you full of his cum as he gawks at the bump his cock creates at your lower belly.
Right then, hot ropes of cum flood your womb and he holds you there, pins you to the sheets even, grinding in deep to ensure your womb gets hit with each drop of his sticky cum.
Who knows— if he's lucky, you'll be all full and glowing with something someone else soon.
Corvus. Gris. Alto Surebrec (duhhhhh).
On Your Face ♡
Everytime your knees dig into the floor as your tongue pokes out to taste the pre leaking from his bulky tip, a fat grin spreads across his face.
It only grows wider when you finally wrap your lips around his girth, taking him further into your throat with eager slurps and teasing flicks of your tongue along the underside.
So sue him for threading his fingers harshly lightly through your hair, yanking guiding your head as you bob faster, his words turning filthier than the mess you're causing with that pretty mouth of yours, your cheeks hollowing to take him deeper until he hits the back of your throat.
The gags that his tip causes as it scrapes the inside of your throat is music to his ears, his hips jolting up to meet your pace as his hand damn near rips your hair as he fights to get his shit together, trying like hell not to cum too soon.
Your mouth on him is nothing short of nasty, working downright disgusting wonders on him as saliva drips down your chin, frothing in bubbles at the corner of your stuffed and grinning mouth.
And he curses you under his cracked breath the second your hands find his balls, pressing between the space of them and the base of his soaked cock to apply further pressure.
Because that's the last string to snap, his strong and veined hand locking around your head to messily pull out off you with a wet pop!, fisting his cock right in front of your outstreched tongue, the cockdrunk look on your face making him reach his orgasm with heavy spurts.
Painting your cheeks, lips, and forehead with sticky cum, a few drops land on your eyelashes. And still, you look up at him with that lopsided grin of yours as your tongue chases the last of him on his leaking tip with a quiet little hum of satisfaction that damn near makes him laugh.
Ah. A work of art, truely.
Zodyl. Tamsy. Enjin.
On Your Tits ♡
Moments like this are what he lives for, quite honestly. When he positions himself between your breasts, squeezing them together with strong hands around his chubby cock as you aid him by squeezing them tight just for him to fuck.
It feels like heaven when you lean forward spit on his tip to make the glide smoother, oogling with those puppy-like eyes of yours at the crown of his head disappearing into the fat of your tits with each pull and appearing again with each push.
When his thrusts turn harsher and his leaking pre wets your lips, poking at them with his tip, you're quick to dart your tongue out to get a taste of the translucent essence teasingly.
He can't help himself, his hand coming up almost immediately to squish at your cheeks, chuckling at the pout your glossy lips press into.
You're cute. Ridiculously cute. Laying there all dazed and giggly every time your mouth latches on his tip until it plops back out at the tug of his hips.
The soft plush of your tits squeezed tighter by your hands, almost laughably smaller in comparison to his, making his cock twitch in excitement.
His pace is quickening with his balls slap slap slapping against your chest until he pulls out of the warm crease of your tits, his fat spurts of white slashing across your tits, over your nipples and running down the curves.
Fat grin plastered onto his face as he guides his tip right onto your stiff niplles, smearing his cum in circles around it, eager cock already springing back to life at the sound of your cute mewls and whines.
What kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn't clean up the mess he made on his girl, hm? That just wouldn't be fair.
Regto. Corvus. Bundus Begalkit.
On Your Ass ♡
Lo and behold the sight in front of him— the gorgeous arch of your back, curves spilling from his firm grip. He has to physically stop himself from diving head first between your cheeks right then and there.
Instead, his cock slides between your wet folds in loooong strokes, the fat head catching on your puckered hole everytime his hips twitched in impatience.
Smack!
His palm comes down hard on your ass, stupid grin spreading at the red imprint blooming across your cheek, and you yelp, your hips bucking forward.
Watching the flesh ripple in awe he cooes at you, rubbing a thumb over the reddish skin while he grinds against your slick crack.
Painting you with sticky strands while your ass grows redder under his spanks, the image of you marked in both his handprints and his dripping cum drills into his head, tip placing feisty kisses onto your stammering hole already.
Wiggling your ass impatiently,you arch your back, pushing back to meet his tip, trying desperatly to plop his fat head right into your eager pussy.
But he only stops you by another mean smack, your flesh jiggling on impact, head falling back as his hips stutter, hands gripping your ass for dear life because he's—
Fuck, is he about to cum already?
His loud groan is answer enough as his sweaty hand glides towards your hip while his other grips his fat base, aiming to soon shoot thick jets of cum onto your ass, white trickling down your cheeks and lower back, scooping some up with his thumb as he taps it gently against your plush lips.
Because c'mon now, you can't miss out on the taste, right?
synopsis: You die completely at random and wake up in the manhwa you were reading… as the villainous wife of the Duke of the North, no less. The same woman who spent the last six months giving her husband the cold shoulder, ruining their marriage, and basically speedrunning her own execution.
Now you have exactly one job: fix this disaster of a relationship before your husband decides to finish what the original plot started.
a\n: longest fic i’ve written so far. nearly lost my mind, almost scrapped it entirely, questioned every life choice that led me here, but somehow, against all odds… it’s done. so glad its over LOL
You died while reading a manhwa.
One moment you were curled up in bed at 3 a.m., a blanket pulled up to your chin, the only light in your dark room coming from your phone screen. Your eyes were glued to the latest chapter of The Duke’s Black Heart, thumb hovering over the final panel as frustration and reluctant longing twisted in your chest. The illustration was breathtakingly brutal: Duke Ryomen Sukuna standing tall amid swirling snow, pink hair tousled by the wind, crimson eyes empty of mercy, black tattoos stark against his skin as he looked down at the broken body of his wife.
The page loaded one last time. The panel filled your screen. Then your vision blurred, the room spun violently, and everything went black. No pain. No final breath. Just sudden, heavy nothing.
And then you woke up somewhere else.
Cold air rushes into your lungs, sharp and biting. Your eyes flutter open slowly, lashes feeling unusually heavy. You’re lying in a massive four-poster bed, the canopy above you made of thick crimson velvet that drapes down like heavy curtains. The silk sheets beneath you are cool and slippery against your skin in a way that feels far too expensive, far too unfamiliar. Thick blankets weighted with fur press down on your body, carrying a faint scent of woodsmoke and aged iron. Your limbs feel wrong — too slender, too delicate. When you lift your hands, they are smaller, with smooth palms and perfectly manicured nails that catch the dim morning light filtering through tall, frost-laced windows.
You push yourself up into a sitting position. The silk nightgown slips off one shoulder. A large, ornately framed mirror stands across the room, reflecting the lavish bedchamber: dark wood furniture, heavy tapestries on the walls, a fireplace crackling faintly in the corner. You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, bare feet meeting cold stone that sends a shiver racing up your spine.
You turn toward the mirror.
The face staring back at you is not your own. It is strikingly beautiful in a refined, aristocratic way that feels both alien and intimidating.
You have transmigrated.
You are now the villainess.
Duke Ryomen Sukuna’s wife of exactly six months.
The realization slams into you like ice water. Memories that don’t belong to you flood your mind in vivid, unrelenting flashes. The forced marriage ceremony under the Emperor’s decree. The wedding night where her body had lain stiff and unresponsive beneath his, silent tears tracking down her cheeks as she called him a beast under her breath and swore she would never allow him to touch her again. Six agonizing months of total, deliberate silence: never speaking a single word directly to him, never sharing his table, never sharing his bed. Only curt notes passed through servants, hidden schemes whispered to outsiders, and a cold, hateful distance that grew sharper every day. Sukuna’s contempt had hardened into something lethal.
In the original story, he kills her. Publicly. Brutally. Before the year is out — dragging her into the courtyard and ending her life with the same large, scarred hands you’ve fantasized about for months.
And now I’m her.
Your breath catches sharply in your throat. Panic explodes in your chest, tight and suffocating. Your hands fly up to press against your sternum, feeling the frantic thud of a heart that isn’t supposed to be yours. Cold sweat prickles along your hairline and down your back. The room feels smaller, the air thicker. If I don’t change this right now, he will kill me. I have to win him over — the man I’ve been completely obsessed with — before he decides I’m still that same woman who deserves to die.
The heavy wooden door creaks open. Two maids slip inside, heads bowed low, shoulders hunched like they’re expecting the worst. They carry a tray between them with a pitcher of steaming water, neatly folded linens, and a small bowl of scented oil. Their footsteps are quick but nearly silent on the cold stone floor, as if they’re trying to disturb you as little as possible.
“My Lady,” the older maid says quietly, almost whispering as she carefully sets the tray down on the side table. “We’re here to help you dress. Your usual silks today?”
You swallow and keep your voice soft. “No, not the silks. Something simpler and warmer, please. I’m going down to have breakfast with the Duke in the dining hall.”
The younger maid’s eyes go wide. She almost drops the pitcher, water sloshing dangerously over the rim and dripping onto the floor. “Breakfast… with His Grace?” she blurts, voice cracking with surprise. “In the dining hall?”
The older maid quickly elbows her and forces a nervous smile, though her hands are visibly shaking. “Are you sure, My Lady? He always eats alone. He might not… like it if you show up.”
You nod, sliding your legs over the side of the bed. The stone floor is icy against your bare feet, sending a shiver up your legs. “I’m sure. Please help me get ready.” You pause, then add gently, “And thank you. Both of you.”
The maids go completely still. The younger one stares at you with her mouth slightly open, pitcher forgotten in her hands. The older one blinks rapidly, her hands freezing mid-air above the tray. They exchange a wide-eyed, startled glance, the kind that speaks volumes without a single word. The silence stretches for a long, awkward moment, thick with confusion and unease.
Finally, the older maid clears her throat. “Of course, My Lady. Right away.”
They hesitate for another heartbeat, still stealing uncertain glances at you, before hurrying into motion. Their hands are a little clumsier than usual as they help you out of the nightgown and into a heavy charcoal gown with long sleeves. The soft wool feels warm and comforting against the chill in the air. While they brush out your hair and pin it up in a simple style, they keep darting quick, nervous looks at your reflection in the mirror. The younger maid’s fingers tremble slightly as she works, and the older one’s breathing is a touch too shallow.
They finish dressing you in tense, heavy silence. Once they step back, you thank them again. They both bow deeply, still visibly unsettled, and you step out into the torch-lit corridor. Servants you pass press themselves flat against the walls, whispering frantically the moment your back is turned. Your heart hammers louder with every step toward the grand dining hall.
The massive double doors swing open with a low creak.
There he is.
Duke Ryomen Sukuna sits alone at the head of the long oak table. Pale morning light filters through the tall windows, casting sharp shadows across his face. Loose strands of pink hair have escaped their tie and fall across his forehead. His dark tunic stretches tight over broad, powerfully muscled shoulders, the collar open just enough to reveal the edges of intricate black tattoos that swirl across his collarbones and down his arms. Crimson eyes are narrowed in concentration as he cuts into a thick slab of meat with slow, deliberate strokes of his knife. Old scars mark the visible skin of his neck and the backs of his large, calloused hands. He radiates raw, quiet danger — the kind that makes the air feel heavier. This is the man you’ve spent months fantasizing about, the one whose every appearance in the manhwa made your pulse race.
You walk straight to the chair on his right — the seat that has stayed empty for the entire six months of your marriage — and sit down.
His knife stops mid-cut.
The silence is immediate and suffocating, broken only by the soft crackle of the hearth fire.
Sukuna’s crimson gaze lifts slowly. It locks onto you with raw disbelief and burning disgust. His jaw clenches, the scar along his cheek tightening. For a long moment he simply stares, like he’s trying to decide whether you’re real or some new form of insult.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice is low and rough, laced with irritation.
You swallow hard, hands trembling under the table. You force a small, nervous smile and say softly, “Good morning, husband. I thought it might be nice to have breakfast together for once.”
The words hang in the air.
Sukuna’s expression darkens. He sets the knife down with a sharp clink that echoes through the hall. Slowly he rises to his full height, towering over you — tall, broad-chested, every inch the warlord who has killed without hesitation. The look he gives you is ice-cold.
“You thought it would be nice?” His voice is low, cold, and dripping with contempt. “Six fucking months you couldn’t even be bothered to speak to me… and now you suddenly decide to play house?”
He pushes the chair back with a harsh scrape and rises to his full height, towering over you. His large hand clenches so tightly around the back of the chair that the wood groans in protest.
“Just looking at you ruins my appetite.”
Without another word, he turns sharply on his heel. His cloak snaps behind him like a whip as he stalks out of the hall. The heavy doors slam shut with a deafening boom that echoes through the room and makes the silverware rattle on the table.
You’re left completely alone at the long table, staring at his abandoned plate as the food rapidly cools. Your heart pounds violently in your chest.
This is going to be so much harder than I thought.
But you don’t run. You pick up your fork with still-shaking fingers, take a small bite of the now-lukewarm food, and force yourself to swallow. A heavy, determined weight settles in your stomach alongside the food.
The rest of the morning dragged by in a haze of nervous energy. You moved carefully through the castle, speaking softly to the servants, thanking them for small things, and trying not to overwhelm anyone with your sudden change in behavior. Every time someone flinched or stared too long, your stomach twisted. You knew they were waiting for the old you to snap back into place.
By mid-afternoon the light outside had shifted to a softer gold, and the castle felt a little less oppressive. You decided it was time to try something more direct.
You found one of the kitchen maids and asked her to prepare a simple tray — strong black tea, warm bread, and a few slices of roasted meat. These were the things you remembered him enjoying in the manhwa, the small details you’d clung to while reading late at night. Nothing too elaborate. When the tray was ready, you took it yourself, ignoring the wide-eyed, startled looks from the staff as you carried it down the long corridor toward Sukuna’s private study. Your heart beat faster with every step.
Your heart was hammering so hard it felt like it was trying to climb out of your throat. Two guards outside the heavy double doors stared at you in open confusion but didn’t stop you. You paused for a second, took a steadying breath, and knocked once.
A gruff “Come in” came from inside.
You pushed the door open and stepped into the study.
The room was exactly the kind of place you’d pictured him in — tall shelves lined with old books and rolled scrolls, a massive oak desk covered in maps and scattered letters, weapons mounted neatly on one wall. A fire burned low in the hearth, filling the air with the faint smell of smoke and polished leather. Sukuna sat behind the desk, quill in hand, pink hair tied back messily with a few loose strands falling forward. He didn’t look up right away, focused on whatever he was writing.
Then his crimson eyes flicked up.
The moment they landed on you holding the tray, the temperature in the room seemed to drop. His expression shifted from irritation to pure suspicion in a heartbeat.
“What the hell is this?” he asked, voice low and flat, like he was already tired of whatever game he thought you were playing.
You stepped further inside and carefully set the tray down on the edge of his desk, trying not to let your hands shake too obviously. “I noticed you didn’t eat anything at breakfast,” you said quietly. “So I brought some tea and a few things. It’s nothing fancy. I just thought… maybe you’d be hungry by now.”
Sukuna leaned back in his chair, studying you like you were a problem he couldn’t quite solve. The silence stretched out, thick and uncomfortable. He glanced at the tray, then back at your face.
“You brought me food,” he said slowly, almost like he was testing the words. “You suddenly show up with tea and bread like we’re… what? Friends now?”
He pushed his chair back and stood, circling around the desk with slow, deliberate steps until he was standing right in front of you. He was so tall you had to tilt your head back to look at him. Up close he was even more overwhelming — the heat radiating from his body, the faint scent of leather and steel and something darker, the way his broad shoulders seemed to fill the space between you.
You forced yourself to hold his gaze. “I know I’ve been terrible to you,” you said, voice soft but steady. “I don’t expect you to believe me right away. I just… I want to try and do better. That’s all.”
Sukuna’s jaw tightened. He reached out and picked up one of the slices of bread, turning it over in his large hand as if checking it for poison. Then he dropped it back onto the tray with a quiet scoff.
“You want to try,” he repeated, the words laced with disbelief and a sharp edge of mockery. “How convenient. Tell me, wife — what exactly changed overnight? Did someone put you up to this?”
His hand suddenly came up, fingers gripping your chin firmly but not harshly, tilting your face up so you couldn’t look away. His touch was warm, rough from years of fighting, and the closeness made your pulse spike.
“Or are you just scared I’ll finally do what everyone’s been expecting me to do for months?” he asked, voice low and dangerous.
Your breath caught. Being this close to him — feeling the intensity rolling off him in waves — made fear and something far more complicated twist together in your stomach.
“I’m not here to scheme,” you whispered. “I just don’t want things to keep being like this.”
Sukuna stared at you for a long, heavy moment. His thumb brushed once over your jaw, almost absentmindedly, before he let go and stepped back.
“Get out,” he said, the words cold but quieter than you expected. “And take your pity tray with you.”
He didn’t move away any further. He stayed standing there, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching you with dark, unreadable eyes — like he was waiting to see whether you would actually leave… or do something else.
You didn’t argue.
You simply picked up the tray with both hands, gave him a small nod, and left the study without another word. The heavy doors clicked shut behind you. The hallway felt longer than usual as you walked back toward your chambers, the tray growing heavier with every step.
Once inside your room, you set the tray down on a side table and closed the door. Then you sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.
That went badly.
You let out a slow breath, rubbing your hands over your thighs. The memory of Sukuna’s cold stare and dismissive words kept replaying in your head. He hadn’t even touched the food. He’d barely listened.
Of course he didn’t. Months of silence doesn’t just disappear because I brought him tea.
You leaned back on your hands, looking up at the canopy above the bed. The situation felt heavier now. Fixing this relationship was going to be a lot harder than you’d hoped. He clearly still saw you as the same person who had ignored and schemed against him for half a year. And why wouldn’t he?
If you couldn’t turn this around, things were only going to get worse. You didn’t want to think about how the original story ended, but the possibility lingered in the back of your mind anyway.
You sat there for a while, the afternoon light slowly shifting across the room. Eventually you stood up, walked over to the window, and looked out at the grounds. Your mind kept turning over what to try next. Another small gesture? Giving him more space? Something else entirely?
It was going to take time. A lot of it. And patience you weren’t sure you had.
You sighed quietly and moved away from the window, already thinking about what you could do tomorrow.
The next morning arrived quietly.
You woke earlier than usual, the soft grey light filtering through the tall windows pulling you from a restless sleep. For a few minutes you lay there, staring at the velvet canopy above the bed, thinking about yesterday. The rejections still stung, but you refused to give up after just one bad day.
You got up, washed, and chose a simple but elegant deep-grey gown. After eating a light breakfast alone in your room, you decided on a different approach today. No trays, no forcing your way into his meals. Just quiet presence.
You made your way to the castle’s main library — a spacious, peaceful room lined with tall shelves of books and scrolls. You picked a thick volume on regional history from the shelves and settled into a comfortable chair near the window where the light was good. Not too close to his usual spot, but not hiding either.
About an hour later, the door opened.
Sukuna walked in, still wearing his cloak from whatever business he’d been handling outside. He stopped short when he saw you already there, book open in your lap.
For a brief second his expression flickered with surprise before settling back into that familiar guarded look.
“You’re here too now,” he said, voice flat as he moved toward the large table in the center of the room. He pulled out a chair and sat down, spreading some documents in front of him. “Is there anywhere in this castle that’s still mine?”
You closed your book slowly and looked up at him.
“I can leave if you want,” you offered calmly. “I just thought it might be nice to read in here. It’s quiet.”
Sukuna didn’t tell you to go. He leaned back in his chair and studied you for a moment, crimson eyes sharp and assessing.
“You’ve been talking quite a bit these past two days,” he said, tone dry. “More than I’m used to.”
You gave a small, honest shrug. “I know. I’m trying to change that.”
He tapped his fingers once against the table, watching you openly now. “Trying,” he echoed, like he was testing the word. “That’s what you keep saying. But I still don’t know why.”
You hesitated, then answered simply, “Because I don’t like how things have been between us. And I think we could be… better. If we tried.”
Sukuna let out a short, humorless breath and leaned back further, still studying you.
“Better,” he repeated. “That’s a bold claim.” He paused, then added quietly, “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not interested in pretending.”
But he didn’t ask you to leave.
You stayed in the library for another hour, reading in silence while he worked across from you. He didn’t speak again, but every so often you caught him glancing in your direction — wary, confused, and just a little unsettled.
It wasn’t much.
But it also wasn’t outright rejection.
You stayed in the library for another hour, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of paper and the soft crackle of the fire. You kept your eyes mostly on your book, though you were barely absorbing the words. Every now and then you felt Sukuna’s gaze on you — heavy, searching, and still full of suspicion.
Eventually, he set his quill down with a quiet tap. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his broad chest as he looked at you directly.
“If you’re serious about wanting to fix things,” he said, voice low and even, “then maybe you should start by actually appearing publicly with me.”
You looked up from your book, surprised. He continued before you could respond.
“There’s a ball tomorrow night at the capital. I’m expected to attend.” He paused, studying your reaction. “Rumors have already reached half the empire that my wife hates me. It would be good to change the public perception a little. At least act like a fucking couple for once.”
The invitation — if it could even be called that — hung in the air. It wasn’t warm or romantic. It was a test, plain and simple.
You closed your book slowly and met his eyes. “I’ll go with you,” you said without hesitation. “If that’s what you want.”
Sukuna watched you for a long moment, as if waiting for you to take it back. When you didn’t, something unreadable flickered across his face.
“Good,” he said simply. Then he stood up, gathering some of his documents. “Be ready by evening tomorrow. Don’t make me wait.”
He headed toward the door, cloak shifting over his shoulders. Just before he left, he paused and glanced back at you one last time.
“And try not to embarrass me,” he added, though his tone was less biting than before. Almost… cautious.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet library once again.
You let out a long breath and leaned back in your chair, heart still racing. A public ball. Tomorrow. With Sukuna.
This was a big step — and a dangerous one. You’d have to be careful. Very careful.
But it was also an opportunity. A chance to stand beside him in front of everyone and start showing that you were different.
You stood up, clutching the book to your chest, a mix of nerves and quiet determination settling in your stomach.
Tomorrow it is.
The next day passed in a quiet blur of nerves and preparation.
You spent most of the afternoon trying not to overthink everything, but as evening approached, the anxiety crept in anyway. When the maids finally arrived to help you get ready, they moved around your room with careful, slightly confused energy — still adjusting to this gentler version of their mistress.
You chose a deep crimson gown made of rich, heavy silk that flowed elegantly to the floor. It had long, fitted sleeves and a modestly elegant neckline that showed just enough collarbone to feel refined rather than daring. The maids helped you into it, lacing the back with steady fingers while you stood in front of the large mirror. The fabric felt cool and luxurious against your skin, the color bringing out a quiet intensity you hadn’t expected.
They brushed your hair until it gleamed, working through every tangle with patient strokes. Most of it was pinned up into an elegant style with delicate silver pins, but they left a few soft strands loose to frame your face. One of the maids added a simple but beautiful necklace with a single dark gem that rested just below your collarbone, along with matching earrings. A touch of rose-tinted balm was applied to your lips, and a light dusting of powder to even your complexion.
You stared at your reflection the entire time, heart beating faster. This version of you looked every bit the refined duchess — poised, beautiful, and completely unlike the cold, silent woman the public had come to expect at Sukuna’s side.
“You look beautiful, My Lady,” the older maid said softly as she stepped back, a hint of genuine surprise in her voice.
“Thank you,” you replied quietly, smoothing your hands down the front of the gown. Inside, your stomach was in knots. This would be your first real public appearance with Sukuna. Everyone would be watching. Waiting for the usual tension or outright disdain they’d grown used to seeing between the Duke and his wife.
A firm knock sounded at the door.
“He’s ready for you, My Lady,” a servant called from the hallway.
You took one last steadying breath, thanked the maids again, and stepped out.
Sukuna was waiting in the main hall, dressed in formal black with subtle gold embroidery along the collar and cuffs. His pink hair was neatly tied back, and the sight of him in full formal attire made your chest tighten. He looked every bit the powerful duke — tall, imposing, and dangerously handsome.
His crimson eyes swept over you slowly, from head to toe. For a moment his expression was unreadable.
“You’re actually coming,” he said, voice low. It wasn’t quite a question.
“I said I would,” you replied simply.
He gave a short nod, then offered his arm. The gesture felt stiff, like he was still testing whether you’d take it or pull away at the last second.
You slipped your hand through his arm without hesitation. His muscles were tense beneath your fingers, but he didn’t pull away.
As you walked together toward the waiting carriage, he spoke again, keeping his voice low enough that only you could hear.
“People talk. A lot. If we’re going to do this, at least try to look like you don’t hate being next to me.”
You glanced up at him. “I don’t hate it.”
Sukuna didn’t respond, but his grip on your arm tightened just slightly — not painful, just… firmer. Like he was anchoring himself.
The carriage ride to the capital was quiet, the only sounds being the wheels on the road and the occasional shift of fabric. Sukuna sat across from you, watching the passing scenery with a distant expression. Every so often his gaze would drift back to you, as if he still couldn’t quite believe you were really there.
When the carriage finally slowed to a stop outside the grand hall, music and warm light spilled out into the night. You could already hear the murmur of voices and feel the weight of the eyes that would soon be on both of you.
Sukuna stepped out first, then offered his hand to help you down. His palm was warm and steady against yours.
“Ready?” he asked, voice gruff.
You nodded, slipping your hand back into the crook of his arm.
“Then let’s go act like a fucking couple.”
The grand hall glowed under hundreds of crystal chandeliers, casting warm golden light across marble floors and velvet-draped walls. Music from a full orchestra swelled through the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation, the clink of champagne glasses, and the rustle of silk and satin gowns. The scent of expensive perfumes, fresh flowers, and roasted meats from the banquet tables hung heavy in the room.
The moment you and Sukuna stepped through the tall arched entrance together, the entire atmosphere shifted.
Conversations faltered. Heads turned. A ripple of surprised murmurs spread through the crowd like a wave.
You felt every eye on you. Some were curious, some shocked, many openly calculating. The Duke and Duchess of the North rarely appeared together in public — and when they had in the past, it had always been marked by cold distance and icy silence.
Tonight was different.
Sukuna’s arm was solid beneath your fingers as he guided you forward. His posture was straight and commanding, every inch the powerful Duke Sukuna the empire feared and respected. You stayed close, your hand resting lightly but deliberately on his arm, chin lifted with quiet confidence.
A portly lord with a heavy gold chain and an embroidered waistcoat approached first, bowing deeply.
“Your Grace, Duke Sukuna,” he said smoothly, then turned to you with a slightly wider smile. “And Duchess… what an unexpected pleasure to see you both together this evening.”
Sukuna gave a curt nod. “My wife wished to attend. I saw no reason to refuse her.”
The lord’s eyebrows rose, but he recovered quickly. “How wonderful. The two of you make quite the striking pair tonight. The Duke and Duchess of the North, united at last.”
You offered a polite, gentle smile. “Thank you, my lord. It’s a pleasure to be here.”
Sukuna’s arm tensed slightly under your hand, but he didn’t pull away. As the lord moved on, more nobles drifted closer, drawn by the unusual sight. You heard the whispers clearly now.
“...the Duke and Duchess actually look civil…”
“I thought she hated him…”
“Look at them. She’s practically standing with him…”
Sukuna kept you close the entire time, one large hand occasionally resting at the small of your back as you moved through the hall. The touch was possessive, almost protective, even if his face remained cool and composed.
Later, when the orchestra struck up a slower, more intimate melody, Sukuna leaned down, his voice low against your ear.
“Dance with me.”
It wasn’t a question.
You nodded. He led you onto the polished floor, one broad hand settling firmly on your waist while the other held yours. He moved with surprising grace for someone of his size and power — confident, controlled, guiding you effortlessly through the steps. You followed his lead, hyper-aware of every point of contact: the heat of his palm burning through the silk of your gown, the solid wall of his chest so close to yours, the faint scent of leather and smoke that clung to him.
For a few moments the rest of the room seemed to fade.
“You’re doing better than I expected,” he muttered, voice barely audible over the music. His crimson eyes flicked down to meet yours. “People are staring less like they’re waiting for us to start arguing in the middle of the floor.”
You looked up at him, a small genuine smile tugging at your lips. “I told you I wanted to try.”
His grip on your waist tightened just slightly. His thumb brushed once over the fabric of your gown, almost absentmindedly.
“Don’t get comfortable,” he said, though there was less bite in his tone than usual. “This doesn’t mean I trust you yet.”
“I know,” you replied softly. “But thank you for giving me the chance anyway.”
Sukuna didn’t answer. But he also didn’t let go of you when the song ended. Instead, he kept his hand on your lower back as he guided you off the floor, staying closer than strictly necessary.
A short while later, a group of older lords approached Sukuna. One of them — a tall man with silver hair and sharp features — gave a respectful bow.
“Your Grace, if we could steal a moment of your time? There are some matters regarding the northern border that require your input.”
Sukuna’s jaw tightened for a brief second. He glanced down at you, then back at the lords.
“Fine,” he said curtly. “I won’t be long.”
Before he stepped away, he leaned in close to your ear, voice low. “Stay here. Don’t wander off.”
You nodded. His hand lingered on your waist for one extra second before he pulled away and followed the group toward a quieter side balcony for their discussion.
Suddenly, you were alone.
You stood near the edge of the dance floor, champagne glass in hand, trying to look more relaxed than you felt. The weight of curious stares hadn’t faded. A few noblewomen still whispered behind their fans, and every so often someone would glance your way with open speculation.
A deep, smooth voice spoke from your left.
“Duchess, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of a proper introduction tonight.”
You turned to find a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and sharp green eyes watching you with a lazy, confident smile. He was dressed in deep emerald and black, a marquess’s insignia pinned neatly to his lapel.
“Marquess Toji Fushiguro,” he introduced himself with a respectful bow of his head. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you over the years. Though I must say, seeing you here with the Duke tonight is… refreshing.”
His tone was warm and easy, without any obvious scheming edge. You felt yourself relax just a little.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Marquess,” you replied with a small smile. “I’ve heard your name mentioned before. You handle the eastern trade routes, don’t you?”
Toji’s smile widened, looking genuinely pleased that you knew. “I do. Though I’m surprised you’re familiar with such dull matters. Most duchesses prefer to stay far away from trade talk.”
The conversation flowed surprisingly well. He was charming in a straightforward, slightly roguish way — asking light questions about the northern estates, commenting on the music, and even making a dry joke about how stiff most balls tended to be. You found yourself smiling more naturally, the tension in your shoulders easing as you chatted. For the first time that evening, talking to someone felt… comfortable.
Toji tilted his head slightly, green eyes glinting with curiosity. “If I may be bold, Duchess — you seem different tonight than what the rumors suggested. Happier, perhaps?”
You were about to respond when a large, familiar hand suddenly slid around your waist from behind, fingers gripping your hip with clear possessiveness. A warm, solid body pressed against your back, and you didn’t need to turn to know who it was.
Sukuna.
His grip tightened, pulling you back against his chest in one smooth motion. The heat of his body seeped through the silk of your gown, and his thumb brushed slowly over your hip bone — a blatant, territorial claim.
Toji’s easy smile faltered for half a second before he recovered, inclining his head respectfully.
“Duke Sukuna,” he greeted calmly. “I was just keeping your wife company while you were occupied.”
Sukuna’s voice was low and dangerous, rumbling against your back. “I can see that.” His hand stayed firmly on your hip, fingers pressing in just enough to make a point. “Though I don’t recall asking anyone to entertain my duchess.”
You felt the tension rolling off him in waves. His other arm came around your other side, almost caging you against him in front of the entire hall.
Toji raised an eyebrow, still perfectly civil. “No offense meant, Your Grace. It was an honor speaking with the Duchess.”
Sukuna didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke loud enough for Toji to hear.
“We’re leaving this conversation,” he said flatly. Then, louder, “Come, wife.”
Sukuna didn’t stop walking until he had guided you into a quieter corner of the grand hall, partially shielded by a tall marble pillar and heavy crimson velvet drapes. The music and chatter of the ball felt distant now, muffled. His hand never left your hip. If anything, his grip tightened, fingers digging possessively into the silk of your gown as though he needed the contact to ground himself.
He turned you to face him with surprising care, then backed you gently but firmly against the cool marble pillar. One large hand stayed locked on your waist while the other came up to brace beside your head, effectively caging you in. His body heat enveloped you instantly — warm, solid, and overwhelming. The faint scent of smoke, leather, and something darker clung to him, making your pulse stutter.
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself,” he said, voice low and rough, almost a growl. His crimson eyes burned down into yours with unmistakable intensity. “Laughing with him like the two of you were old friends. Did you forget you’re here with me tonight?”
The jealousy in his tone was unmistakable — sharp, dark, and barely leashed.
You kept your voice calm, though your heart was racing. “We were only talking. He was civil. Nothing more.”
Sukuna’s jaw clenched visibly. His thumb began to trace slow, deliberate circles over the curve of your hip through the thin silk, a possessive caress that sent heat rushing across your skin.
“Civil,” he repeated, the word laced with pure disdain. “I saw the way he looked at you. The way he smiled at you.”
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, voice dropping into something dangerously intimate. “And here I thought you were trying to mend our relationship. Yet the second I turn my back, you’re chatting and smiling with another man like it means nothing.”
His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against the hard wall of his chest. You could feel the tension coiled in every muscle, the barely restrained frustration rolling off him in waves. One of his fingers slipped just beneath the edge of your gown, brushing bare skin at your hip — a deliberate, claiming touch.
“I don’t like sharing what’s mine,” he growled softly, lips brushing your ear. “Especially not with bastards like Toji Fushiguro.”
You swallowed hard, breath shallow. “I wasn’t trying to make you jealous. I was just being polite while you were busy.”
Sukuna let out a low, dangerous sound in the back of his throat — half a scoff, half a laugh. His free hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his burning crimson gaze.
“Polite,” he murmured, thumb stroking slowly along your jawline. “You’re lucky I didn’t drag you out of here the moment I saw his hand move toward you.”
His eyes dropped to your lips for a long, heavy second. The air between you felt charged, electric, like the tension might snap at any moment. For a heartbeat you thought he might kiss you right there — hard, claiming, in full view of everyone still watching from across the hall.
Instead, he leaned in until his lips ghosted against your ear again.
“Next time someone approaches you while I’m gone,” he said, voice dark and velvet-rough, “you tell them you belong to me. Clearly. Because if I have to remind them myself… I won’t be nearly as polite.”
His fingers flexed on your hip in one final, possessive squeeze — a silent promise — before he slowly stepped back. His hand remained at the small of your back, heavy and unrelenting.
The music swelled again around you.
Sukuna’s expression smoothed into something cooler and more composed for the public eye, but the heat in his eyes stayed locked on you.
“Come,” he said, voice still low. “We’re dancing again. And this time, you’re not leaving my side for the rest of the night.”
Sukuna led you back onto the dance floor without another word, his hand firm on your waist, pulling you closer than strictly proper for a public setting. The orchestra had shifted into a slower, more intimate melody — strings and soft piano weaving through the air. Couples swirled around you, but you barely noticed them. All you could focus on was the heat of Sukuna’s body pressed against yours, the way his fingers splayed possessively across your lower back, and the unmistakable tension radiating from him.
He moved with controlled grace, guiding you effortlessly through the steps. Your bodies were flush together, chest to chest, his thigh occasionally brushing yours as you turned. Every point of contact felt electric.
“You’re quiet now,” he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense. “What happened to all that polite conversation you were having with the marquess?”
You tilted your head slightly to meet his gaze. “You told me not to leave your side. I’m listening.”
A low sound rumbled in his chest — not quite a laugh. His hand slid lower on your back, fingers pressing in just enough to make your breath hitch.
“Good girl,” he said softly, almost mockingly, though the heat in his eyes was anything but. “Keep listening. I don’t want to see you smiling at anyone else like that tonight.”
The jealousy was still there, simmering just beneath the surface. You could feel it in the way he held you — tighter than necessary, almost like he was daring anyone to try approaching you again.
As you turned under his arm and came back into his embrace, he leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“He thought he had a chance,” he continued, voice rough. “Like he didn’t know exactly who you belong to.” His fingers flexed against your waist. “Maybe I need to make it clearer.”
Your heart hammered against your ribs. Being this close to him — surrounded by the swirl of music and watching eyes — made everything feel heightened. The scent of him, the solid strength of his body, the barely restrained possessiveness in every touch.
“Sukuna…” you started softly.
He cut you off by pulling you even closer, until there was almost no space left between you. His breath was warm against your temple.
“You wanted to mend things,” he reminded you, tone dark. “Then stop giving other men reasons to think they can talk to my wife like that. Smile at me. Stay close to me.”
The song began to slow, but Sukuna didn’t release you. He kept you locked in his arms even as other couples started drifting apart. His hand slid up your back, fingers tracing your spine through the silk, a silent claim in front of the entire hall.
When the music finally faded, he didn’t let go right away. He stared down at you, crimson eyes heavy with something dangerous and hungry.
“We’re leaving,” he said abruptly, voice low. “I’ve had enough of these people watching us.”
He didn’t wait for your agreement. His hand stayed firmly at the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd toward the exit. Nobles parted for him instinctively, eyes wide at the sight of the Duke and Duchess leaving together so early — and so obviously entangled.
The cool night air hit you the moment you stepped outside. Sukuna kept you close as you waited for the carriage, his arm wrapped around your waist like he still wasn’t ready to stop touching you.
Once inside the carriage, he sat beside you instead of across from you. The door had barely closed before his hand was back on your thigh, gripping possessively through the fabric of your gown.
The carriage started moving, carrying you both back toward the estate through the dark roads. Sukuna’s hand remained on your thigh the entire ride, heavy and warm — a silent reminder of exactly who you belonged to.
By the time it finally rolled to a stop in front of the castle, the moon hung high in the sky. The journey had been quiet, thick with lingering tension. Sukuna hadn’t spoken a word, but his grip on your thigh never loosened.
When the footman opened the door, Sukuna stepped out first and offered you his hand. You took it, letting him help you down onto the stone steps. The cool night air felt refreshing after the stuffy ballroom, but it did little to calm the nerves fluttering in your stomach.
He walked you inside, his hand resting possessively at the small of your back the whole way through the dimly lit halls. Servants bowed and quickly disappeared when they saw you both. The castle felt unusually still.
When you reached the point where the corridors split — one leading to his private wing, the other to yours — Sukuna stopped. He turned to face you, his expression unreadable in the low torchlight.
“You did well tonight,” he admitted grudgingly, staring at you for a long moment before glancing away. “But if I see him — or anyone else — near you again like that…”
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.
Sukuna gave a short nod, almost like he was dismissing you. “Goodnight.”
He turned to leave, heading toward his own chambers.
You stood there for a second, heart pounding, before the words slipped out — soft, shy, and a little nervous.
“Wait…”
Sukuna paused, looking back at you over his shoulder.
You swallowed, cheeks warming as you forced yourself to speak. “You know… we can’t really fix things as a couple if we keep sleeping separately"
The words hung in the air between you. They sounded bolder than you felt.
Sukuna went completely still. For several long seconds he simply stared at you, crimson eyes narrowing slightly as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. The silence stretched, thick and heavy.
Then, slowly, the corner of his mouth twitched — not quite a smile, but something darker, more dangerous.
“Is that so?” he said, voice low and rough. He took one step back toward you, then another, until he was standing close again. “You’re asking to sleep in my bed now?”
He tilted his head, studying your face like he was trying to find the trick in your words. His hand came up, fingers lightly brushing your jaw as he looked down at you.
“Careful, wife,” he murmured, thumb tracing your lower lip. “You keep pushing like this… I might start thinking you actually mean it.”
His gaze dropped to your mouth for a long second before returning to your eyes. The tension between you crackled again, even stronger than it had been at the ball.
Sukuna didn’t move away. He waited, watching you closely, as if daring you to take it back… or push further.
The silence stretched, heavy and charged. His thumb was still resting against your lower lip, warm and rough, while his crimson eyes searched your face for any sign of deception. You could practically feel the suspicion rolling off him in waves.
Finally, he let out a slow breath, almost a scoff.
“…Fine,” he said, voice low and guarded. “If that’s what you want.”
He stepped back slightly, but his hand stayed on your waist, fingers still gripping you with quiet possessiveness. His expression remained cold, cautious, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Don’t expect this to mean anything,” he added, tone flat. “I’m still not convinced you’ve changed. But if you’re so determined to play the part of a real wife… then come.”
He turned and started walking down the corridor toward his private wing, keeping his hand on the small of your back to guide you along with him. The touch was firm — not gentle, but not forceful either. It felt like both an invitation and a test.
The halls were quiet at this hour, lit only by flickering torches. Every step echoed softly. Sukuna didn’t speak again until you reached the heavy wooden doors to his chambers. He pushed them open without hesitation and stepped inside, holding the door for you.
His rooms were large and unmistakably his — dark wood furniture, a massive bed with black silk sheets, a low fire burning in the hearth, weapons and scrolls neatly arranged on shelves. It smelled faintly of smoke and leather.
Sukuna closed the door behind you with a heavy click. He leaned against it for a moment, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching you with that same calculating stare.
“You wanted this,” he said quietly, almost like he was reminding both of you. “So here we are.”
He pushed off the door and walked further into the room, loosening the ties on his formal tunic as he went. The movement was casual, but you could feel the tension still radiating from him.
“Get comfortable,” he told you, glancing back at you over his shoulder. His voice was low, almost seductive, but the suspicion never fully left his eyes.
He didn’t say anything else. He simply waited, watching to see what you would do now that you were truly alone with him in his space.
You stood there for a moment, suddenly very aware of how large his chambers felt and how small you felt inside them. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting warm light across the dark wood and black silk sheets. The air smelled like him — smoke, leather, and something faintly metallic.
You swallowed and moved toward the side of the room where a large wardrobe stood. One of the maids had already brought a few of your things here earlier, as if the servants had anticipated this. You picked out a simple black silk nightgown and hesitated.
Sukuna had turned away slightly, pulling off his formal tunic and tossing it over the back of a chair. The movement revealed the strong lines of his back and the black tattoos swirling across his skin. He didn’t look at you, but you could tell he was still aware of every move you made.
You changed quickly behind the privacy screen in the corner, the silk cool against your skin. When you stepped out, Sukuna was already sitting on the edge of the massive bed, wearing only loose black pants. His pink hair was untied now, falling messily around his face. He looked up when you approached.
For a long second he just stared.
Then he let out a slow breath and patted the space beside him.
“Come here,” he said, voice low.
You walked over and climbed onto the bed. The mattress dipped under your weight. Sukuna watched you the entire time, suspicion still clear in his crimson eyes even as he pulled the covers back for you.
You slipped under the sheets, lying on your back. The silk felt cool and smooth. Sukuna stayed sitting for another moment, then finally lay down beside you. The bed was large, but he took up so much space that you could feel the heat radiating from his body.
He turned onto his side, facing you. One arm rested above his head while the other lay between you, close enough that his fingers almost brushed your arm.
The silence was heavy.
“You’re really here,” he muttered, almost to himself. His gaze traced your face, still guarded. “In my bed.”
He reached out slowly and brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek. The touch was surprisingly gentle, but his eyes remained cold and watchful.
“Don’t make me regret this,” he said quietly. “If this is another game… I won’t be kind about it.”
Then he shifted closer. Not enough to touch fully, but close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. He didn’t pull you into his arms. He simply laid there, watching you like he was waiting for you to prove something — or reveal your true intentions.
The fire crackled softly in the background. The weight of his presence beside you made it hard to relax, but you stayed there, heart beating steadily.
Sukuna’s voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again.
“Sleep, wife. We’ll see how long this little performance of yours lasts.”
He didn’t close his eyes right away. He kept watching you in the dim firelight, guarded, suspicious… and just a little intrigued.
Morning light filtered softly through the heavy curtains, pale and hazy, casting long golden stripes across the dark wooden floor. You woke slowly, cocooned in warmth that felt both foreign and strangely comforting. Sukuna’s arm was draped heavily over your waist, his broad chest pressed against your back, one leg loosely tangled with yours beneath the black silk sheets. His breathing was deep and steady, the faint rise and fall of his chest brushing against you with every inhale.
For a long moment you didn’t move. This was the first time you’d ever woken up beside him — sharing the same bed, the same space, the same air. Your heart beat a little too fast as the reality settled in. The Duke of the North was holding you in his sleep, even if it was only out of habit or unconscious possession.
Sukuna stirred a few minutes later. His arm tightened around your waist for a brief second, pulling you closer on instinct, before his body went still. You felt the exact moment consciousness returned to him — the subtle shift in his breathing, the way his muscles tensed ever so slightly against your back.
He didn’t pull away immediately.
“You’re still here,” he said quietly, voice low and rough with sleep. There was a hint of genuine surprise beneath the words. “Figured you’d sneak back to your own room before I woke up.”
You turned your head slightly on the pillow to look at him. His crimson eyes were half-lidded, messy pink hair falling across his forehead. Up close like this, without the usual cold mask, he looked almost human — though the sharp suspicion in his gaze reminded you he was anything but.
“I told you I wanted this,” you replied softly.
Sukuna let out a slow breath, almost a huff. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at you properly. His hand stayed on your waist, thumb brushing slow, absentminded circles over the silk of your nightgown. The touch was light, but you could feel the weight of his attention — guarded, calculating, searching for any crack in your resolve.
He watched you for a long, heavy moment, suspicion still clear in his expression. The silence between you felt intimate and fragile at the same time. His fingers flexed once against your waist before relaxing again.
“Don’t get too used to this,” he said eventually, tone flat but not cruel. “One night doesn’t fix anything. One night doesn’t make me trust you.”
Then, almost like he couldn’t help himself, he added more quietly, “But… you can stay for breakfast if you want.”
Sukuna rolled away and got out of bed, stretching his powerful arms above his head. The morning light traced every line of muscle and the intricate black tattoos that covered his shoulders, chest, and back. He moved with the casual confidence of someone completely at ease in his own space, yet you could still feel the tension humming beneath his skin.
God, he’s even hotter in person… no wonder I was obsessed.
He grabbed a fresh tunic but didn’t put it on. Instead, he leaned against the wardrobe, watching you in his sheets with that dark, cautious gaze. The fire had burned low, leaving the room quiet and heavy with unspoken tension.
Sukuna tilted his head slightly. “Well?” he asked, voice still rough from sleep. “Are you going to lie there all morning?”
You didn’t make him wait long.
You slipped out of bed, the black silk nightgown clinging lightly to your skin as you moved. The morning air in the chamber felt cooler than the warmth of the sheets you’d just left. Sukuna watched you the entire time from where he leaned against the wardrobe, arms crossed over his broad chest, expression unreadable but intense.
“Breakfast will be brought here,” he said simply, voice still rough from sleep. “No need to go to the main hall today.”
A short while later, servants arrived with silver trays. They moved quickly and quietly, setting the table near the tall windows with practiced care — a pot of strong black tea, warm crusty bread, thick slices of roasted meat, fresh berries, and a small dish of honey. The scent of the food filled the room, warm and savory. They kept their eyes lowered, clearly unsettled by the sight of you in the Duke’s private chambers wearing only a nightgown and robe, but they left without a single word.
Sukuna sat down first. You took the seat across from him.
The morning light streamed in through the tall windows, casting a soft golden glow across the table and highlighting the sharp angles of his face. It traced the black tattoos visible at the open collar of his tunic and the faint scars on his hands as he picked up his knife. For several long minutes, the only sounds were the quiet clink of silverware and the distant crackle from the hearth.
Finally, Sukuna set his knife down with a quiet click and leaned back in his chair, crimson eyes locking onto you with that familiar guarded intensity.
“So,” he said, voice low and guarded, “what made you change?”
You looked up from your plate, heart skipping a beat. Just died and woke up in the body of the woman you’re supposed to kill. No big deal.
There was no point in holding back anymore.
“I like you,” you said simply, meeting his gaze. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”
Sukuna stared at you for a long, heavy beat. Then he let out a short, bitter laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Bullshit.”
The word landed blunt and cold. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, watching you with sharp suspicion.
“You expect me to believe that? After months of silence, after treating me like I was beneath you, after making sure everyone knew how much you despised this marriage… you suddenly like me?” His voice dripped with disbelief. “Try again.”
You didn’t look away. Your voice stayed quiet but steady.
“No, really,” you said. “I do. I like you. That’s why I’m trying so hard.”
Sukuna’s eyes narrowed. He studied your face like he was searching for the lie, the manipulation, the trick. The silence stretched between you, thick and tense. His fingers tapped once against the edge of the table before he leaned back again, the corner of his mouth curving into a slow, dangerous smirk.
“Okay, little liar,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “Then prove it to me.”
You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks.
“Prove it to you…?” you repeated softly, the words coming out a little breathless.
Sukuna’s smirk deepened, but his eyes stayed sharp and watchful. He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table, closing some of the distance between you.
“Yes,” he said, voice dropping lower, almost velvet-smooth. “Prove it. You say you like me. You say you want to fix this marriage. So show me.”
His gaze drifted slowly down to your mouth, then back up to your eyes. The air between you felt heavier now, warmer. He reached across the table and brushed his fingers lightly against the back of your hand, the touch deceptively gentle.
“You’re in my chambers. In my bed,” he continued, thumb tracing a slow line over your knuckles. “If you’re actually serious… then stop hiding behind pretty words and prove it.”
His touch lingered, possessive but controlled, sending a slow shiver up your arm. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he watched your reaction closely, crimson eyes dark with suspicion and something much hotter underneath.
“Prove it, wife,” he said again, voice low and seductive. “I’m right here. Show me how much you like me.”
The breakfast table suddenly felt far too small. The tension had shifted — still laced with his suspicion, but now crackling with slow, deliberate heat as he waited for you to make the next move.
Your pulse thundered under his thumb. You could feel the weight of his stare, the way his crimson eyes darkened as they traced your face, your lips, the line of your throat. He wasn’t touching you anywhere else, but it still felt like he had you pinned.
You swallowed, heat blooming across your cheeks and down your neck.
“…How?” you asked, voice quieter than you intended. “How do you want me to prove it?”
Sukuna’s smirk deepened, slow and dangerous. He leaned in a little closer across the table, his thumb still stroking lazy circles over your knuckles.
“That’s the fun part,” he murmured. “You figure it out. You’re the one claiming you like me. So show me what that looks like.”
His free hand moved, reaching across to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was almost gentle, but his fingers lingered at the side of your neck, tracing lightly down the column of your throat before pulling away.
“You can start by coming here,” he said, voice low and commanding. He pushed his chair back slightly and patted his thigh once. “Don’t make me ask twice.”
Your breath caught. Heart racing, you stood up slowly and rounded the table. The moment you were close enough, Sukuna’s hand caught your wrist and pulled you down onto his lap. He settled you sideways across his thighs, one arm wrapping securely around your waist while the other rested on your leg, fingers splayed possessively over your thigh.
Up close like this, you could feel the heat of his body, the solid strength of his chest against your side, the way his breath brushed your temple.
“Better,” he said, voice rough. His hand slid slowly up your thigh, stopping just below the hem of your nightgown. “Now… show me.”
He tilted his head, lips hovering near your jaw.
“Kiss me,” he ordered softly. “Like you mean it. Like you actually want your husband.”
His crimson eyes were locked on yours, still guarded, still waiting for the lie to slip through. But beneath the suspicion, there was clear hunger — dark and patient, daring you to close the distance.
Sukuna’s fingers flexed on your thigh, a silent reminder of his patience running thin.
“Well, wife?” he murmured, voice velvet-rough against your skin. “I’m waiting.”
You didn’t hesitate any longer.
Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss started soft — tentative on your end, testing. Sukuna stayed still for half a second, as if surprised you’d actually done it.
Then he took control.
His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you harder against his mouth. The kiss deepened instantly, turning hungry and demanding. His tongue swept past your lips, claiming your mouth with a low growl that vibrated against you. He tasted like black tea and heat, and the way he kissed you was nothing short of possessive — like he was trying to erase every other man who had ever looked at you.
You gasped into his mouth. Sukuna used the opening to tilt your head and kiss you deeper, tongue stroking yours with slow, filthy intent. His other hand gripped your thigh tighter, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled you more firmly onto his lap until you were straddling him.
“Better,” he rasped against your lips when he finally pulled back just enough to breathe. His crimson eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. “But not enough.”
He kissed you again, harder this time. One hand slipped under the hem of your nightgown, palm sliding up your bare thigh, pushing the silk higher and higher until his fingers brushed the edge of your underwear. He didn’t go further yet — just teased, stroking the sensitive skin there while his mouth moved to your jaw, then down to your neck.
“You say you like me,” he growled against your throat, teeth grazing your pulse point. “Then prove how much.”
He sucked on your skin, hard enough to leave a mark, and you couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped you. Sukuna’s grip on your thigh tightened in response, and you felt him growing hard beneath you, the thick length pressing against your core through his pants.
Your hands moved on instinct, sliding up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic. He made a low, approving sound and rocked his hips up once, grinding against you deliberately.
“Touch me,” he ordered, voice rough. “If you’re serious, then fucking touch me.”
You obeyed, sliding your hands under his tunic, palms running over the hard planes of his stomach and the tattoos that covered his skin. His muscles tensed under your touch. Sukuna rewarded you by biting down on your neck again, then soothing the spot with his tongue.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, breathing heavy, eyes burning.
“Keep going,” he said, voice dark and commanding. His hands gripping your ass firmly as he pulled you down harder against his growing erection. “Show me exactly how much you want your husband.”
His hips rolled up deliberately, grinding the thick ridge of his cock against your clit in slow, filthy circles. The friction was maddening, heat building fast between you.
You moaned into his mouth. The sound seemed to snap something in him.
He growled low in his throat and rocked you harder against him. “Fuck,” he rasped against your lips, breath hot. “You’re already so wet for me.”
One large hand slipped further under your nightgown, calloused palm dragging up your bare thigh until his fingers found the soaked fabric of your panties. He groaned at the feeling, pressing two thick fingers against your clothed slit and rubbing firmly, spreading your wetness.
“So fucking wet,” he muttered, voice dark and rough. “All this from just sitting on my lap?”
He pushed your panties aside with impatient fingers and dragged two thick digits slowly through your slick folds. The first direct touch made your hips jerk sharply. Pleasure shot through you like lightning — hot, electric, and overwhelming. You were already soaked, embarrassingly wet, and Sukuna could feel it.
He chuckled darkly against your throat, the low vibration sending shivers racing down your spine as he kissed and bit along your neck, marking you with teeth and tongue.
“You’re dripping down my fingers, wife,” he growled, voice rough and filthy. “This greedy little cunt is making such a mess already.”
He pushed one thick finger inside you slowly, stretching your tight walls. Your inner muscles clenched hard around the intrusion, hot and silky. The feeling of being filled by him — even just one finger — made your breath hitch. He added a second finger almost immediately, scissoring them lazily while his thumb found your swollen clit and rubbed tight, relentless circles.
The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers pumping into your soaked pussy filled the quiet morning room — lewd squelching noises that would have made you blush if you weren’t already trembling with pleasure. Your arousal coated his hand, dripping down his wrist and onto his lap as he worked you open with practiced, unhurried strokes.
You whimpered, hands fisting tightly in the front of his tunic. Sukuna’s free hand yanked the neckline of your nightgown down roughly, exposing your breasts to the cool air. He leaned in and sucked one sensitive nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking roughly over the peak before his teeth grazed it. The sharp sting mixed with pleasure made your back arch, pushing your chest closer to his hungry mouth.
“So fucking sensitive,” he murmured against your skin, voice muffled as he switched to the other nipple, sucking harder. “Look at you. Falling apart just from my fingers like a desperate little whore.”
He curled his fingers inside you, stroking that perfect spot with devastating accuracy while his thumb pressed firmer circles on your clit. Your hips rocked desperately against his hand, chasing every thrust, every stroke. The wet sounds grew louder, filthier, echoing obscenely in the quiet chamber.
Sukuna pulled back just enough to watch your face, his crimson eyes dark with lust and that ever-present edge of suspicion.
“Cum for me,” he ordered, voice low and rough. “Let me feel how much this supposed ‘liking me’ makes this tight little pussy squeeze around my fingers.”
His fingers curled harder, stroking that sensitive spot relentlessly while his thumb worked your clit faster. The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core, burning hotter with every thrust, every filthy word.
It snapped.
You came hard with a broken moan, walls clenching violently around his thick fingers. Your thighs shook uncontrollably as slick gushed over his hand, soaking his palm and dripping down his wrist. Pleasure crashed through you in waves, leaving you gasping and trembling.
Sukuna groaned deeply at the feeling, still pumping his fingers slowly through your spasms, drawing out every last pulse until you were shaking and oversensitive, whimpering softly.
He finally pulled his fingers free, glistening with your release. Without breaking eye contact, he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean, tongue dragging slowly and deliberately over his skin, savoring your taste.
“Sweet,” he murmured, voice husky and dark. His eyes never left yours.
He lifted you effortlessly and stood, carrying you toward the massive bed. He laid you down on the black silk sheets, hovering over you with that same dark, hungry look.
“Take the nightgown off,” he commanded, already pulling his own tunic over his head, revealing the full expanse of his tattooed, muscled torso. “I want to see all of you.”
His hands moved to his pants, loosening them as he watched you, eyes burning with lust and that ever-present edge of suspicion.
“Prove how much you actually want me, wife.”
You sat up on the bed, heart hammering against your ribs. Under his burning gaze, you reached for the hem of your nightgown and pulled it up and over your head, letting the silk fall to the floor. The cool air of the chamber brushed over your bare skin, making your nipples tighten instantly.
Sukuna’s eyes raked slowly over your naked body — from your flushed face, down the curve of your breasts, your stomach, and the glistening wetness already coating your inner thighs. He let out a low, rough sound deep in his chest, almost a growl.
“Fuck… look at you,” he muttered, voice thick. “So small. So fucking pretty.”
He shoved his pants the rest of the way down his hips and kicked them aside. His cock sprang free, heavy and thick, the veined shaft curving slightly upward. It was meaty — obscenely so — the girth making your mouth go dry. The flushed head was already leaking, a bead of precum glistening at the tip. Even fully hard, it looked almost too big, too heavy, the weight of it making it hang thick and full between his powerful thighs.
You couldn’t help the soft, shaky breath that escaped you.
Sukuna noticed. His smirk was dark and satisfied as he crawled onto the bed, the mattress dipping deeply under his much larger frame. He settled between your spread thighs, his broad shoulders forcing your legs wider apart. The size difference hit you all over again — he was so much bigger than you, his body completely eclipsing yours as he hovered above you.
He gripped his thick cock in one large hand and dragged the heavy head through your soaked folds, coating himself in your wetness. The blunt, meaty tip nudged against your entrance, pressing just enough to tease the stretch.
“You’re tiny compared to me,” he rasped, voice low and rough. “Gonna feel every inch when I split you open.”
He pushed forward slowly.
The thick head of his cock breached you, stretching your entrance with a slow, burning pressure. You gasped sharply at the sheer girth — he was so thick that your walls had to part around him, fluttering and clenching as he sank deeper. The heavy, meaty weight of his cock filled you inch by inch, dragging against every sensitive ridge inside you until you were full, so full, your back arching off the bed with a broken moan.
Sukuna groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours. His balls rested heavy and warm against you.
“Shit,” he breathed against your neck, voice strained. “So fucking tight… this little pussy is sucking me in like it was made for me.”
He stayed buried deep for a moment, letting you adjust to the overwhelming stretch, the way his thick cock throbbed inside you, hot and heavy. Then he started moving — slow, deep rolls of his hips that dragged his meaty length along your walls with every thrust. The wet, obscene sound of him sliding in and out of your soaked cunt filled the room, slick and filthy.
You whimpered, nails digging into his broad shoulders. “Sukuna… you’re so big—”
He growled at your words, hips snapping harder, driving his thick cock deeper. The drag was exquisite, every vein and ridge rubbing against your most sensitive spots. His size made you feel impossibly full, stretched wide around his girth, the pressure bordering on too much but so, so good.
“Take it,” he rasped, voice dark and possessive. “Take every fucking inch like the good little wife you’re trying to be.”
He leaned down and captured your mouth in a messy, hungry kiss, tongue fucking your mouth in time with his deep thrusts. His heavy balls slapped against you with every powerful stroke, the wet sounds growing louder as your arousal dripped down his shaft and soaked the sheets beneath you.
You moaned into his mouth, legs wrapping tighter around his waist, heels digging into his back. The size difference made everything more intense — his broad chest crushing your breasts, his muscular thighs spreading you wide, his massive frame completely dominating yours as he fucked you into the mattress.
Sukuna pulled back just enough to look at you, breathing hard, eyes dark with lust and that lingering edge of suspicion.
“Tell me again,” he growled, hips grinding deep, the thick head of his cock pressing against that perfect spot inside you. “Tell me how much you like your husband’s cock while I’m ruining this tight little pussy.”
You could barely think through the overwhelming fullness. His cock was so thick it felt like he was splitting you open with every slow, deliberate thrust. The heavy drag of his veined shaft against your walls made your toes curl, pleasure bordering on too much.
“I like it,” you gasped, voice breaking on a moan as he rolled his hips again, grinding the fat head against your g-spot. “I like your cock so much— fuck, Sukuna, you’re so deep…”
A low, satisfied growl rumbled in his chest. He hooked one of your legs over his arm, spreading you wider, and drove into you harder. The new angle made his thick cock hit even deeper, the heavy weight of his balls slapping wetly against your ass with every powerful thrust. Your juices coated his shaft, dripping down to soak the sheets beneath you, the lewd squelching sounds echoing obscenely in the quiet room.
“So fucking tight,” he groaned, voice rough and strained. “This greedy little cunt is sucking me in like it doesn’t want to let go.”
He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a messy, dominating kiss. His tongue fucked into your mouth in time with his cock, deep and filthy, while his hips snapped forward harder. The sheer size difference made everything more intense — his broad, muscled body completely covering yours, his weight pressing you down into the mattress as he fucked you with long, punishing strokes.
You whimpered into his mouth, nails raking down his back, leaving red lines across his tattooed skin. Sukuna hissed at the sting and rewarded you by pounding into you even harder, the thick head of his cock bullying that sensitive spot inside you over and over.
“Again,” he demanded against your lips, breath hot and ragged. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”
“You,” you moaned, legs shaking as another wave of pleasure crashed through you. “It belongs to you— only you—”
“Good girl.”
He sat back on his heels, pulling your hips up with him so your lower back was off the bed. The new angle let him drive even deeper, his thick cock stretching you wide with every brutal thrust. His thumb found your swollen clit again, rubbing tight, firm circles while he fucked you senseless.
The wet slap of skin against skin mixed with your broken moans and his low grunts. Your breasts bounced with every powerful snap of his hips, nipples tight and aching. Sukuna’s gaze was locked between your legs, watching hungrily as his thick cock disappeared into your soaked pussy again and again, stretching you obscenely around his girth.
“Look at that,” he growled, voice dark. “Taking every inch like you were made for me. So fucking pretty when you’re stuffed full of my cock.”
The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core, burning hotter with every deep thrust, every swipe of his thumb on your clit. Your thighs trembled violently in his grip.
“Sukuna— I’m gonna—!”
“Cum,” he ordered, hips slamming into you harder. “Cum on your husband’s cock like the desperate little wife you are.”
It hit you like a wave. You came hard with a broken cry, walls clenching violently around his thick length, pulsing and fluttering as slick gushed around him. Your whole body shook, back arching sharply as pleasure tore through you.
Sukuna groaned deeply at the feeling, hips stuttering. “Fuck— that’s it. Milk my cock.”
He fucked you through your orgasm, prolonging it until you were whimpering and oversensitive. Then, with a low, guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt and came hard, thick ropes of hot cum flooding deep inside you. He kept grinding his hips in slow circles, pushing his release even deeper as he emptied himself completely.
“We’re not done,” he said quietly, a dangerous promise in his tone. “Not even close.”
Sukuna pulled out of you with a wet, filthy sound, your combined release dripping down your thighs. Before you could catch your breath, he flipped you onto your back and manhandled you like you weighed nothing. He sat on the edge of the bed, pulled you into his lap facing away from him, and hooked his powerful arms under your knees, folding you in a full nelson.
Your back pressed flush against his broad, tattooed chest. Your legs were spread obscenely wide, knees pushed up toward your shoulders by his strong arms. The position left you completely helpless — folded in half, pussy exposed and dripping, his thick cock sliding hot and heavy between your slick folds.
“Fuck, look at you,” he growled right against your ear, voice feral. “So small and folded up for me. Perfect little fucktoy.”
He thrust up hard, burying his massive cock back inside you in one brutal stroke. The new angle made him feel even thicker, even deeper. You cried out, the sound raw and broken as his meaty length stretched you wide open again, the fat head bullying against your cervix with every thrust.
Sukuna went feral.
He fucked you like an animal — hard, fast, and relentless. His hips snapped up with powerful force, slamming his thick cock into your soaked pussy over and over. The wet, obscene slap of skin against skin filled the room, mixed with the lewd squelching of your dripping cunt taking every inch. His heavy balls slapped against your ass with every brutal thrust, the impact jolting through your body.
You were cockdrunk almost immediately.
Your mind went hazy, eyes rolling back as pleasure overloaded your senses. All you could do was moan helplessly, body limp in his hold as he used you. His thick cock dragged against every sensitive spot inside you, the sheer girth stretching you so wide it bordered on pain, but the pleasure was so intense you couldn’t think straight.
“S-Sukuna— ahh— too deep—” you slurred, voice broken and whiny.
He only fucked you harder, arms locked tight under your knees, keeping you folded and helpless as he pounded into you. His chest was slick with sweat against your back, his hot breath panting against your ear.
“Take it,” he snarled, voice feral and animalistic. “Take every fucking inch. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? My cock ruining this tight little pussy.”
You could only moan incoherently, head lolling back against his shoulder. Drool slipped from the corner of your mouth as he fucked you senseless, his thick cock bullying your insides with every savage thrust. The wet sounds were filthy — your juices coating his shaft and dripping down his balls, soaking the sheets beneath you.
Sukuna suddenly pulled out, flipped you onto your stomach, and yanked your hips up so your ass was high in the air. He slammed back into you in one brutal thrust, fucking you in deep, punishing doggy style.
“Fuck— yes,” he groaned, voice wrecked. One large hand came down hard on your ass with a loud smack, the sting blooming hot across your skin. He did it again, harder, the sharp crack echoing as he pounded into you from behind.
Your face was pressed into the sheets, ass up, completely at his mercy as he railed you. His thick cock drove so deep you felt it in your stomach, the heavy drag of his veined shaft making your eyes roll back. He smacked your ass again, gripping the soft flesh hard as he used you.
“You’re mine,” he growled, hips snapping forward relentlessly. “This pussy is mine. Say it.”
You could barely speak, mind blank and cockdrunk, but you whimpered obediently between moans, “Yours… it’s yours—”
Sukuna snarled in satisfaction and fucked you even harder, the bed creaking violently under the force of his thrusts. His heavy balls slapped against your clit with every brutal stroke, pushing you closer and closer to the edge again.
He was relentless now — grunting low and animalistic, cursing under his breath as his hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise. He claimed you with deep, punishing strokes, each one driving his thick cock so deep you felt it in your stomach.
“Fuck— this pussy is sucking me in so greedily,” he growled, voice wrecked and animalistic. One hand left your hip and came down hard on your ass again with a loud smack, the sharp sting blooming hot across your skin. He did it again, harder, gripping the soft, reddened flesh and spreading you wider as he railed you.
Your mind was completely melted. All you could do was moan and whimper into the sheets, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth as he pounded into you. His thick, meaty cock stretched you so wide it felt like he was reshaping you from the inside. Every deep, punishing thrust made the fat head kiss your cervix, sending sparks of overwhelming pleasure-pain shooting through your body.
“S-Sukuna— too much— ahh—!” you slurred, voice broken and whiny, barely coherent anymore.
He laughed darkly, low and breathless, and smacked your ass once more before gripping both cheeks and spreading you obscenely. He watched hungrily as his thick cock disappeared into your soaked, fluttering pussy again and again, your juices coating his shaft and dripping down his heavy balls.
“Look at this greedy little hole,” he rasped, hips snapping forward brutally. “Taking my fat cock so well. You’re dripping everywhere, wife. Making such a fucking mess on my sheets.”
He leaned over you, chest pressed to your back, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place while the other braced beside your head. The new angle let him drive even deeper, his heavy cock bullying that perfect spot inside you with every savage thrust. The wet, filthy plap plap plap of his hips slamming into your ass filled the room, mixed with your broken moans and his guttural grunts.
You were shaking, thighs trembling violently, another orgasm building fast. Your mind was blank — nothing but the overwhelming stretch, the heat, the relentless drag of his thick veined cock inside you.
Sukuna’s breath was hot against your ear. “You’re mine,” he growled, teeth grazing your shoulder. “This tight little cunt is mine. Say it while you cum on my cock again.”
You could barely form words, but you whimpered obediently between moans, voice slurred and cockdrunk. “Yours— it’s yours— Sukuna— please—!”
He fucked you harder, hips pistoning relentlessly, the heavy slap of his balls against your clit pushing you over the edge. You came with a shattered cry, walls clamping down around his thick length like a vice, pulsing and fluttering as another intense orgasm ripped through you. Slick gushed around his cock, soaking his thighs and the sheets beneath you.
Sukuna groaned loudly, the sound raw and feral. “Good fucking girl—”
He didn’t stop. He fucked you through your orgasm with deep, stuttering thrusts, hips snapping erratically as he chased his own release. With a final, powerful drive, he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded deep inside you, pulse after heavy pulse filling you until you felt impossibly full, the warmth spreading through your core. He kept grinding slowly, rolling his hips in lazy circles to push every drop deeper, making sure you took all of him.
You could feel it leaking out around his thick cock — warm, sticky, and messy — dripping down your thighs and soaking the sheets beneath you.
Sukuna stayed buried deep inside you for a long moment, his massive body pressing you firmly into the mattress. His chest heaved against your back, hot, ragged breaths fanning across the side of your neck. The scent of sweat, sex, and his skin filled the air with every shaky inhale. One of his hands stroked slowly up and down your side, almost possessively, while the other stayed gripping your hip, fingers digging in like he still wasn’t ready to let go.
“…Not bad,” he muttered, voice hoarse and low against your ear. “For a little liar.”
He finally pulled out slowly, inch by thick inch. A heavy trickle of his cum immediately leaked from your abused, fluttering pussy, warm and obscene as it ran down your inner thighs. Sukuna let out a low, satisfied hum at the sight before he rolled you onto your back and collapsed beside you.
Without a word, he pulled you against his chest, one strong arm wrapping around you possessively. His skin was hot and slightly damp with sweat, his heartbeat still racing steadily under your cheek as he held you close.
His fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin as he caught his breath.
But he didn’t let go.
a\n: honestly didn't know how to end this but hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs appreciated!!
You huff out a small laugh at his comment, pushing your office chair next to him at the table, nudging him into the shoulder. "You're such a killjoy, nanami."
His light brows knit into an irritated expression, an exhausted huff of air leaving his lips. He just wants to go home.
But no, his boss had to assign him more papers to work overtime with his darling college, for that matter, and forgot to inform the other employees not to lock the office at the end of the corridor, that, unfortunately, you and him were busy working in.
So, when you both finished your exhausting work, ready to head off home, it sure was a surprise to find the door to your escape locked.
Sharp eyes snap to the watch on his wrist. Two more hours until the janitor shows up. Great. Two more hours of agony, trying to ignore the pulsating hard-on against his tight trousers.
"It's the questions, isn't it?" His ears perk up at the sound of your voice, neck craning into your direction.
You, dangling in your chair, eyes lit up as your orbs inspect the grumpy man next to you. "I knew it", you breathe out in defeat, head hanging low in thought. "Maybe we could spice them up a bit."
His lips form into a thin line, shaking his head in disapproval. "No way." And you miss the way a faint blush spreads from the tip of his nose to his cheeks as you sulk in your chair, disappointed.
Ah, man. He doesn't like it when you're all sulky and grumpy. That's his job. Alright then. Maybe he can play into your little game. He sighed in defeat before clearing his throat, turning to face you.
"Where's the riskiest place you've ever done it?"
You don't know how it happened. You just looked up at him, surprised by his answer. "Well, not in a stuffy office like this, that's for sure", you joked. But before you could catch your breath from your giggle, you found yourself on top of that very same desk you were just working on some time ago, legs spread, with the tall blonde hovering above you. His veiny hand grasping at his tie to loosen it, chest heaving. You feel heat rising up your body as his absent hand travels from your white blouse down to your clothed thigh, giving it a firm squeeze.
A shiver runs down your spine as his hand trails over every inch of your body, feeling you up through the barrier of clothes. His head bends down, face pressed into the crock of your neck, taking in your scent.
Moaning at the sensation, your delicate fingers tangle their way through his blonde locks as he trails kisses all over your neck, subconsciously rutting his hips into yours.
Before your mind can even register the teasing bite against your pulse, your skin shivers from the contact of cold air hitting it. Panties on display, wet patch formed at the middle with your trousers long forgotten somewhere on the floor. When did he-?
"You planned this out, didn't you?" His voice is dangerously low, almost a growl. Finger hooking into the waistband of your panties, flicking it against your skin mockingly. "Wanted me all over you all along."
It was evident that you long for him to fill you up, but fuck, he was no better. "Wish you could see yourself right now, pretty", his hands roam your body, quick to sneak one hand under your shirt, fondling your breast. "Shit. Teasing me with those tight pants of yours. Should've just asked me to give this needy cunt a treat." A swift slap to your clothed cunny follows his words, earning a gasp from your lips.
Biting back a moan, your grip on his hair tightens as his fingers strip you of your panties, swiftly freeing himself from the tightness of his trousers. He works quick, in all matters, sliding his tip, leaking of pre, through the wetness of your folds, spreading your juices all over.
Lewd. That's the word to describe the scene unfolding. Your moans echo in the room as his cock head nudges your clit, your legs wrapping around his hips instinctively.
He hums in content, aligning hit angry head to your puckering hole, groaning at the sight of your needy cunt clenching around nothing, cursing under his breath. "Easyyy, now", his other hand firmly holds your hips in place to stop you from squirming, "Running off already? I'm not even in yet, and you're already all worked up?"
You couldn't help but whine, walls contracting around the bulky tip. He sharply rams his length into your shivering cunt, quick to pick up a steady pace, pubic hair harshly brushing against your puffy clit. You might as well faint from his fastening pace, mind clouded in pleasure from the warmth of his breath against your skin.
"Fuckin' hell, quit clenching. Can barely even m-move", nanami breathes out. Truth be told, he might burst a load right into your womb right now. Mind spinning from your tightening walls sucking him deeper and deeper into your hole.
Taking his frustration out on your pussy, he continues to bully his length into you over and over again, hissing at the snugness of your cave.
With each prodding against your sensitive spots, your breathing picked up, legs shaking as you near your release, you throw your head back in pleasure. "Nanamiiii, I-I'm gonna cum! Please don't s-stop!"
"What was that? Can't hear you over this slutty pussy", Cock abandoning your sloppy hole. "So damn needy." He groans, slapping his tip against your puffy folds as you shriek in response.
With one quick glance at the clock he groans, bottoming out inside of you again. "We got one more hour darling," Nanamis eyes flutter shut, fast to pick up where he left off, "Gotta make the most out of it. "
SATORU GOJO ✦ DARE!
'Hey. You up? Where are you hiding your sweets? Your bro is asleep and I can't find any ;('
A frustrated groan escapes you as you read the message. It does come in handy to have the number of your big brother's best friend sometimes, but that guy sure was a handful.
Just like right now. Satoru is sleeping over at your place at this very moment. But instead of occupying himself in his friend's room, he figured to bother his little sister - you.
'Top shelve behind the cornflakes. Now leave me be.'
You look into the direction of the bluish light coming from your nightstand, taking your phone in hand, only to let out an annoyed huff of air.
Jerk:
'I'm bored. You up for truth or dare?'
Curiosity getting the better of you, you agree, sitting up on your bed, waiting for him to type out the awaited question.
Once he does you think, thumb hovering above the keyboard before you type out your answer.
'Dare.'
He smiles to himself as he reads over the words, the dim light of the bathroom illuminating his figure. Yeah, sure, he was bored. But the prominent bulge against his gray sweatpants say otherwise.
Satoru types in his dare not long after, not even hesitating to send it, eyes preying on the three dots at the corner of his screen, hard length pulsating inside his pants.
Jerk:
'I dare you to send me nudes ;)'
Well, this took a dark turn quickly. Your eyes scan over the message over an over again in disbelief, heart throbbing in your chest as you think of a possible comeback to type out, the same three dots appearing and disappearing from his screen over and over, a sly smirk spreading across his handsome face. "Gotcha."
Fighting with your own mind, you decide to walk right into his trap, panties growing damp at the thought of him pleasuring himself to your pictures. You quickly hop out of your shorts before you position yourself on the bed, phone capturing the sinful sight of your exposed cunt, fingers pushing your flimsy panties to the side, tight hole on full display.
Viewing the two blue ticks, you smile to yourself. Now you finally shut him up for good. Before you could set your phone to the side, another message pops up. To your surprise, your plan failed.
Jerk:
*1 image attached*
'Your turn now.'
Amused, your eyes glue to the visibly huge bulge against his sweats, his big hand pressing his hard-on through the piece of clothing. He was in the bathroom, you could make that out from the terribly lit picture and the ceramic bathtub in the background. Excitement rushes through your body as your hand slowly sneaks into your panties.
It's almost absurd, a childish game you're playing into, but it was still extremely thrilling. Satoru was just a few steps apart from you, he could easily sneak into your room and play this game of his face to face with you.
But he didn't. He was always one to love to thrill and tease the living hell out of you. He just never thought it would bite him back in the ass.
With a lip cadged between your teeth, you type out a question, giving into his wish of 'truth', the other hand drawing teasing circles against your clit.
'How bad you want to fuck me?'
"Fuckkkk", he whispers a curse under his breath, dick already heavy in his hand as he pumps his fist tightly on his erected member.
“So bad. Sososo bad” he whispers, words coming out as a quiet whimper as he fucks his fist desperately, almost drooling at the mouth has he imagined pounding his fat cock into you.
“Shit, such a cute pussy. Want to feel you so bad” he’s a blabbering mess at this point, talking to himself as if you could hear him.
Jerk:
‘Real bad. Want to feel your cunny squeezing the life out of me’
Shameless, that’s what he is. But he really couldn’t care less, high of the lustful thoughts clouding his mind.
A quiet moan escapes you at his answer, finger buried into your cunt, imagining it to be his fat cock instead.
His fist tightens around his pulsing cock, threatening to bust his load any second from now, his eyes glued to the picture of your drenched cunt, various scenarios playing inside his head.
“Fuckfuckfuck!” He nears his release soon, spurting all over his abdomen, quick to snap a picture of the nasty aftermath.
Jerk:
*1 picture attached*
You audibly gasp as the picture lit your screen, your eyes glued to the white, ropey cum smeared all across his hefty length and abdomen, little droplets of sweat glistening against his sculptured body.
Thighs squeezing together around your hand, heat rises up your body as your breathing picks up. “God, fuck.”
Contemplating to get up and just fuck him in the bathroom, not giving two shits about your brother sleeping at the end of the corridor, you're quick to sit up at the edge of your bed, heart thumping in your chest as yet another message lights up your screen.
Jerk:
'Come clean it up ?'
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✦ TRUTH!
"Up for a lil game, pretty? Ya look real bored sittin' here all alone."
Your head turns to the strange man next to you, viridescent eyes matching his raven hair. He crocks his head in question, swirly the liquor inside his hand, scanning your face for an answer.
"Sure, why not", you huff out, taking a sip from your martini. "Watcha got in mind, handsome?" He's right, you are alone. Well, you got ditched, to be exact.
This should've been a cute little date with that guy you've been fancying for a minute, only for him to cancel ten minutes before your agreed meeting.
Trying to lift your spirit, you decided to go inside the bar anyway, whatever the night brings you, they say. You didn't expect that to be a handsome strange, but who are you to complain?
He smirks at that, downing his drink, gaze never wavering. "Truth or dare, hun'?" Placing his glass down onto the bar counter, he chuckles at your answer.
"Truth, huh? Thought ya'd be one to take some risks."
"We'll see", you tease, mimicking his cheeky grin. "So? You can ask me anything, don't hold back."
A chuckle rang your ear, followed be a content hum. "Anything, yeah? Alright then." He places his arm on the counter, head resting in his palm, emerald hues fixated on you.
"Have you ever been fucked by a real man?"
Surprised, you blink, breathing out a laugh in disbelief. "Yeah, fuck do you mean?", you snap back, drowning the rest of the liquor in one go before placing it back onto the wooden table.
He returns your question with a snicker, finger playing with the outline of his glass, "Nah, I don't think yer hear what 'm sayin', sweetie."
"Ya get it now, doll?" The windows of his car are clouded from the hot air, the sinful sound of him, drilling his hips into your ass, continuously filling the small space.
"Fuckin' hell, doll. Sure, ya not a virgin?" His chuckle is cut short by a growl. A sob escapes you at his teasing, hand flying back in an attempt to slow his movements. "'s too much!", you wail, his hand pushing your head further into the leather seat, new arch inviting him even deeper into you.
"Too much? Yer slutty pussy says otherwise, just listen to her." Your hole elicits a crude squelch around his length, causing your eyes to roll behind your skull.
Toji leans down, body now pressed into yours, pushing you further into the seats. A strangled cry comes from your lips, the new position causing your mouth to hang open, drool smearing across the dark seats.
"Awww, already gone dumb on me, pretty?" His rough hand manages to hook onto your clit, relentlessly flicking the poor bud while his hips continue to bruise your insides, his hefty tip nudging against spots you didn't even know existed.
Groaning into the crook of your neck, his brows knit at your walls, snugly clinging to him like a vice. You soon cum with a loud cry, instinctively milking his cock.
"Keep doin' that shit, and I might fall in love." His brave facade cracks after those words, snapping his hips only harder into you, chasing his release, a mixture of moans and groans echoing off the small space.
"F-fuck", he hushes against your neck, sweat adoring the both of you with a glistening essence. "Uh huh, keep squeezin' me like that. Finna fill yer cunny up and plug it right up."
You can only respond with a weak moan, juices forming a sticky ring at his base, dripping down onto the seats. He places a quick kiss to your temple, movement of his hips flattering.
"Yeahhh. Sounds good."
SUKUNA RYOMEN ✦ DARE!
"I dare you to sit still on my lap."
“Y-You’re kidding, right?” You try to brush it off with an awkward laugh, the loud music from the party faintly creaking through the door.
“Do I look like I’m fucking joking to you?” He almost pops a vein, irritated by your answer. His hand pats his clothed thigh once, twice, sharp crimson eyes of his never leaving yours, “You know damn well you want to. So, sit.”
The alarm bells ring inside your head and you mentally slap yourself because, what the hell were you thinking? Just because your friends decided it would be a good idea to lock the both of you inside the bathroom didn't mean you had to give into their playful intentions.
And what the hell was he thinking? Asking you so shamelessly, after your intense breakup two months ago. The vivid memory is still prominent inside your mind but, fuck. His lap just looks so damn inviting.
Sukuna was never one to be good with words. So why not test the waters and find out what his actions lead to?
Biting back a snarky remark, you slowly stroll to where he was seated. Admiring his sitting figure, leaned against the bathroom door, your heart begins to thump inside your chest rapidly.
A big grin showing his canines on display. He's quick to wet his lips with his tongue, eyes watching your every move.
"Why yer all shy now, baby?", his hand finds comfort at the curve of your hip, and you just want to gag at the familiar pet name. "Ain't the first time you sit all pretty on me." He turns your head in search of your eyes.
You're hesitant, clearing your throat as heat bubbles up in your tummy. You could feel his all too familiar rock hard cock, even through your clothes. This close, you examine his handsome features, eyes scanning over his various tattoos, black ink decorating his face.
Sukuna hums in amusement, firmly grinding your hips down onto his erection, groaning at the friction. The hand on your cheek sneaks to the back of your neck, urging your face mere inches from his, "Let's drop the facade, yeah?" His teeth cage your bottom lip swiftly before it plops back into place. "I know pussy 's missed this dick."
Your eyes drop to his lips, every sane thought falling onto deaf ears as you nod mindlessly. "Uh huh."
A victorious smirk plastered onto his handsome face, his fingers tighten around your neck. "There's my girl." He smashes his lips against yours, guiding your hips harder against his, groaning into your mouth.
A lewd cry elicit from your lips once his hand travels upwards and into your shirt, giving your tit a firm squeeze. "Shh, shh, baby. Yer gonna outdo the music", a chuckle erupts from his chest, quickly cut off by your pussy steadily grinding against his covered cock head.
Don't want them to hear yer all slutty for yer exes dick, do ya now?", he teases, his hand abandoning your neck to place a harsh smack against your rear.
Burying your head into his shoulder to hide your moans, you speed up your movements, hazy mind clouded with him, just him. You can feel yourself nearing your release, the knot inside your stomach tightening with each movement of your hips.
"Bet yer pussy 's fuckin drenched." His hair is messy, breathing turning shorter and shorter, greedy hands sneaking into your pants, gripping your naked flesh roughly.
"k-kunaaa! S-so close! 'm gonna c-cummm!" , you whimper, arms wrapped around his neck, adored by black ink. "Yer not gonna do shit, girl." A warning. Sharp eyes boring holes into yours as he halts your hips firmly in his hold.
You whine in protest, in need of any form of relief, desperately attempting to grind your sobbing cunt against him. "p.please. Need it, need you."
Sniggering at you, he captures your lips in another messy kiss, earning a mewl from you as his sharp fangs graze your lips.
"Still the same old needy girl I know." One hand freeing his raging length, aligning it against your exposed tummy, your shirt rode up slightly from his previous assault.
Sukuna smirks. "See that?", he questions, fat cock head easily reaching your belly button, "See how full yer gonna get, baby? Need that, reallll bad, huh?"
He snorts a laugh at your eager nod, drunk off the pleasure. How cute, he thinks to himself. This party didn't turn out that boring after all.
Licking his lips before, he places yet another smack to your ass, urging you to lift your hips. "Then get yer pretty ass to work and remind me how good your pussy feels 'round me."
inspired by this ask that my lovely @zayora sent from her idea. don’t actually read it tho it sucks (i tried mommy)
"Still with me, kitten?" Sylus hums, broad hands smoothing down your sides before curling his fingers possessively around your hips so he can slam his cock back into your swollen hole with ease.
"Haah—! Sy—s'too much—" you manage between choked out moans.
"But you're taking it so good, sweetie," he praises, leaning his large frame over your body.
His face nuzzles into your neck before planting open mouth kisses over your skin. They are slow and messy, because he loves softly showing you affection while you’re trembling beneath him wayyy to much.
With your head hazy from your previous two orgasms, you grasp the comforter and drag your pliant body forward, trying to run away from his thrusts for, embarrassingly, the third time. Your thighs shake with the effort, but it proves useless when he follows immediately, crowding over you until his weight is too heavy for you to move.
Sylus growls then tsks, his tone shifting from praise to punish as one hand leave your hip to find your hair.
The silky strands wrap once around his fist before he tugs, forcing your head back and baring your throat. The position makes another broken moan spill from your lips, your back arching helplessly against his chest as he thrusts deeper in response.
"Where are you going?" he asks, punctuating each word with a rough slam of his hips.
Plap, plap, plap.
It's the only sound accompanying the thoughts in your head, all of which are filled with Sylus—and his cock which is splitting you open over and over as he holds you tight, keeping you from escaping what he's giving you.
And from the vulnerable position he has you in, you have a feeling he plans on keeping you like this a lot longer.
the steam in the shower is thick enough to hide in but sylus has a way of finding what he wants. he has you bent over his forearm, front presses up against the wet tiles, ass arched up high, and body slick with your body wash that he loves to use up so much. you’ve gone still as his thick fingers slip in and out of your sopping cunt, taking the time to prep you for his monster of a cock.
“you’re very quite now, sweetie,” he whispers, voice deep and low, and you can easily sense the grin in it. “where did all that big talk go?”
sylus adds a third finger and you find yourself struggling to respond, cheek pressed against the cold tile, eyes rolling back like he’d already fucked you dumb. “i’m r-right.... here,” you gasp, clawiing the tile. you hear him chuckle behind you, that deep rich laugh that has your walls fluttering against his fingers. “good. then pay attention.” he leans down and bites your shoulder hard, leaving behind a mark. you cry out, but before you can move, his large hand comes down to slap your ass with a loud smack, sting hot. “nngh... sy-lus! that’s gonna bruise!” you whimper, brows furrowing at the familiar sensation.
he laughs at your words. “then you’ll have a souvenir to see how thorough i’ll be fucking you.” he slaps your ass once again, even harder to see the red bloom on your skin and your pussy pulse against his fingers. he retrieves his fingers and guides his cock to your opening, and with one brutal shove, slams all the into you.
“oh! g-god..syyy..” you sob, fingering scratching at the grout. he’s so big, pressing against your gummy walls to the max.
“still concerned about the marks, sweetie?” he grunts, hips starting a punishing, fast rhythm. because of the body wash and water, every thrust is slick, sliding in and out with a wet squelch. everytime his hips crash against your ass, it makes a heavy thud that vibrates through your body. sylus starts hammering into your sweet spot, hitting it so hard your vision starts to blur.
“mmmh.. a-ah! s-sylus.. too deep, you’re-!” you moan, your tight walls, clenching around his dick hard. he chuckles at your moans, cute, he thinks, before sucking down your nape, to bite your ear lobe.
“surely, i’m exactly where i need to be?” he mutters, his breath hot in your wet skin. he reaches around, pinching your clit down with his thumb and rubbing it in fast heavy circles while he keeps pounding into you from behind. the feeling is a total disaster for your coordination. you’are shaking, knees knocking together as the tight coil in your stomach builds up as his thick tip abuses your cervix.
“s-sylus, i’m-i’m gonna—come!” you whine out, voice like sweet music to his ears.
sylus hums, letting out a groan as he nears his own release. “look at me,” he commands, hand coming up to grip your chin and turn you toward him. tears are streaming down your pretty face as he presses a soft, sloppy kiss to your pouty lips. his grip on your waist tightens, thrusts becoming, shallow and frantic as presses tight against the obvious bulge low in your stomach. “give it all to me. now, sweetie.”
your whole body locks up. you scream as you fall over the edge, walls squeezing him in tight pulsing waves. the pleasure is so sharp, it makes your head spin. the coil stomach snaps, white hot cum spilling out of you. “good girl,” sylus grunts, driving in one last time before he spends himself deep inside of you, the warmth of seed filling you up.
Who knew the Li's were closet freaks??
tags: married!zayne x reader + caleb. voyeurism. exhibitionism. unprotected sex. submissive puppyleb. use of 'good boy/good girl'.
a/n: this was meant to be a drabble, and it turned into around 2.7k words of smut. whoops. i've been thinking about married!zaynemc asking the other love interests to be their third.
Caleb was the first to find out. Obviously. He had known you and Zayne for years- his entire life- there were no more secrets left to hide.
Not even this one.
Zayne was surprisingly very, publicly, physically affectionate with you. Small touches here and there on your little dates, or kisses goodbye when he had to leave for work. He minded less so when Caleb was around. And Caleb was always there, an inevitable constant, so it made sense if he was there for everything.
Which is why he is here, kneeling on the floor of your living room, watching Zayne fuck you like he has all the time left in the world.
Caleb grips at his jeans so tightly he thinks he’ll rip right through them. He isn’t allowed to touch, not yet. His eyes are trained on the way Zayne disappears into your dripping cunt over and over again, a slow, steady rhythm that keeps you wanting. He knows that Zayne is hitting you deep, by the way you moan his name every time he fills you.
Caleb doesn’t know how it got to this point.
(A lie. He remembers the exact time and day he first caught the two of you fucking. In the kitchen, over burning eggs and spilled milk. His mechanically altered brain catalogued the memory into his hard drive after three weeks of jerking off to it every night.)
He thought you, the Li’s, would be more… coy about sex in general. Zayne used to burst into bright red flames if you even held his hand in front of Caleb, before you got married. The quiet, stern doctor couldn’t handle a little bit of skin contact.
Now, Caleb thinks it might’ve been for a different reason altogether.
It just kept happening— “getting caught”.
Innocent gestures at first. Kisses to your palm, and bounding hugs after a long day. Then it was making out in the car, Zayne’s hand under the table during a fancy dinner, you under his desk in the office during a lunch date. Caleb was there for all of it, when time would allow.
It reached a point where Caleb didn’t mind it anymore (he doesn’t think he was ever bothered by it, actually, which says more about his person than he’d like to think about.)
It was, probably, the insane level of attraction he had to the both of you. The closest people to his heart, together romantically and physically. It made sense to him that he would be turned on by the sight of you, instead of scared away.
The fact that you allowed him to be a part of it, only meant that you were all the same type of crazy.
He liked watching, and you and Zayne loved to be watched.
Fuck, his dick fucking hurts.
“Zayne,” you cry again, a long, pitiful whine that sends a tingle down Caleb’s spine. You bounce lightly on the man’s lap, energy running low as you get closer to your peak.
Zayne grips under your thighs, encouraging you to keep going, his own hips pushing up as he brings you down.
Both of you are still clothed, with only the buttons undone and belts unbuckled. The only article of clothing fully removed was your shirt, which is tossed onto the floor. Your pretty skirt is hiked up and panties pushed to the side, enough for Caleb to see.
Zayne checks to make sure, too, glasses askew as he peers over his shoulder to meet Caleb’s watchful eye. The other man smirks, and it makes Caleb twitch in his jeans.
“What’s wrong, my love?” Zayne asks you. A rhetorical question. A mean question. He knows, always knows, when you’re close, and when to push you past your limits.
He holds you loft, until all that’s left inside of you is the head of his cock. You try to push down, but Zayne stays firm, and you can only cry. “Wanna come.”
“I know,” he whispers in your ear. He sounds apologetic, like he isn’t the one keeping you from the very thing you want. “But you’ll have to be patient.”
Your arms wrap tightly around Zayne’s shoulders, a nonverbal plea to appeal to his soft side. It doesn’t work. Zayne’s eyes never leave Caleb, and his smile grows. He knows that look, a mirror image of your own mischievous grin when you have a bad (or really, really good) idea.
“Caleb, you’ve been a good boy.”
Caleb nods, not trusting himself to speak without stumbling over his words.
One of Zayne’s hands glides up to your ass, pulling at one cheek to expose you even further. Caleb’s eyes widen, following the trail of juices that leak out of you and stain the seam of Zayne’s slacks. He slips out of you, heavy dick bobbing against his thigh, and you are left gaping. “I think you deserve a treat.”
Oh, all thoughts of anything else are dashed from his mind. It’s only you and Zayne and all the fucking cum dripping onto the floor and he would lick every last drop off of the hardwood, if Zayne asked him to. His body moves before he can register, and his mouth dives deep into your waiting cunt.
“Caleb!” you gasp, and Zayne pinches the meat of your ass.
“That’s not my name.”
Caleb groans, tongue gliding over your puffy folds, drinking up every sound that you make and he’s careful to remember not to touch himself. He drinks you up straight from the source, then follows the seam of your pussy down to your throbbing clit. He flattens his tongue over it, pulsing lightly, waiting for your moan of approval. You do your best to grind on his face, even though Zayne is still holding your hips up to keep you from coming too quickly for his liking.
Caleb couldn’t pinpoint it until now, that he likes to be used. Or, more so, be useful, even in the bedroom. A plaything, a means to an end, for you, for Zayne, because he loves you both. You mean more to him than his own pleasure, and he wants to help his favorite people reach the end, even when it’s Zayne’s name you are calling in lieu of his own.
And you keep saying it, Zayne Zayne Zayne, until he lets your hips drop and Caleb’s tongue sucks roughly at your clit, his nose buried so deep into you that he forgets to breathe, and your first orgasm of the night rushes through you like a tidal wave.
Your body shakes under the force of it while Zayne sings you praise and Caleb shoves two fingers into your fluttering hole, giving you something to clench around. When Caleb pulls his mouth away to watch all of your juices coat Zayne’s hardness, thumb replacing his hot tongue on the sensitive nub, he takes the opportunity to do what he’s meant to— clean up the mess.
Caleb grabs the shaft with his other hand, more roughly than he should have (curse this prosthetic sometimes), and takes half in one fell swoop. He can’t help it. Zayne is modestly big, curved up at the end, thick at the base. Picture perfect. He doesn’t know how he can take so much into his throat at once- maybe it’s the adrenaline, the overwhelming lust, he doesn’t fucking care, because Zayne moans so loud and you follow his lead, it’s like Caleb’s own personal choir.
His hand strokes what his mouth can’t reach yet, the head already pressing the soft spot in his throat. He times it so that he thrusts his fingers into you at the same time he pushes in with Zayne, and he’s a proxy for your two bodies to fuck through him.
His eyes fall shut as he loses himself to the motions, only feeling the two of you everywhere. The sounds you make, the pleasure you feel, is because of him, and it only encourages him to keep going.
You come again, not as intensely as the first, but it has you crying helplessly. You find the last of your strength to pull off of Caleb, lying heavily on top of your husband, body melting into his while you catch your breath. If Caleb looks up, he can see you kiss at Zayne’s face and neck, smearing spit into his exposed skin. Zayne strokes your thighs, then your hips, then finally wraps his arms around your waist, helping you come down with such a soft touch and that easy, proud smile.
“You’re a good girl,” he says to you, sweet and slow as syrup. “You’re so beautiful like this.”
You are completely entranced by him, only focused on him and his sugary words. You still blush at the sound of them, as if you didn’t just come all over another man’s face, who is still kneeling under you. You haven’t looked at Caleb once. Your back is to him while Zayne takes the credit, and it’s that thrill of faux jealousy that makes Caleb hump at the air.
Caleb wants to be acknowledged, too. He wants to be good, has been good all this time. Caleb wants to prove to Zayne just how good he is.
So he licks up the length of Zayne’s cock, following the vein on the under side to the bulbous tip. He sucks at the head with the same fervor he did with your clit— it ilicits the same long moan but not enough to make him come like you. Caleb swirls his tongue around, poking at the slit, lips pursing like he’s making out with Zayne’s cock.
Fuck, he really wants to kiss you. And maybe he’s being greedy now, because he imagines you kneeling down here with him, and how pouty you’d be if Caleb was hogging your husband’s heavy dick in his mouth while you run your spit down the shaft and meet his lips at the tip.
It only spurs him on. Caleb’s favorite pastime is teasing the hell out of you, after all. He tries to work down as far as he can, inch after inch disappearing into his hot mouth, until Caleb can almost reach the base. His head bobs there for a long moment, just feeling the weight of him, the taste of you still on his tongue.
Zayne bucks up forcefully, suddenly, jostling Caleb and causing him to gag. He pulls off just in time to gasp a lungful of air.
“Sorry, puppy,” Zayne says, a little shocked by himself. Caleb realizes that he made Zayne lose control, just for a second. The biggest compliment, according to you, is when Zayne can’t help himself. Long fingers pet at his hair in apology. There is no need for one, Caleb thinks, he takes this as a success.
Instead, Caleb allows himself to rest a hand at the crest of your back, smooth and sweat-slicked. Your face remains tucked in the crook of Zayne’s neck, though you’re much more relaxed than before. He pumps his fist up Zayne’s cock a couple more times, before positioning it in front of your waiting hole.
“Good boy,” Zayne coos, once he realizes what Caleb is doing.
“Thank you, puppy,” you chime in right after, and Caleb presses the head in, watching how you suck him in greedily. guiding you to sink down the entire length slowly. It’s a slow crawl, because this is Caleb’s reward for himself, your pussy stretches around Zayne like it was made for it. It is. You’re perfect for each other in every way. Caleb can never get enough. He’d do anything the two of you ask, as long as he can be with you, as long as he can witness the two of you sink into each other for the rest of his days.
Once you sit fully on Zayne’s weeping cock, a sigh of utter satisfaction leaves your lungs, and Zayne takes it into his with a whirlwind kiss.
Caleb stands on wobbly legs, the hand still on your back helping you rock your body back and forth over Zayne. From here, Caleb can see everything. Zayne’s iron grip around your waist, the hickies you left on his neck. Your tongues exploring each others’ mouths unabashedly, the breaths you exchange in between them. It’s you and Zayne written all over each others’ bodies. Caleb wants to leave his mark, too.
“Please,” he manages to eke out. He palms at the neglected bulge in his pants. Technically it’s not breaking the rules if there’s a layer of clothes in the way, right? “Zayne. Please, I want to-“
“Go ahead, puppy,” Zayne cuts him off, breathless from your kiss. “You can touch yourself.”
And you are back on his lips the moment he finishes that sentence, starved for his attention.
Caleb unbuttons his pants and tugs himself out of his boxers, too impatient for anything else. He spits in one hand, not wanting to be selfish and ask you for yours. He’s greedy, too, jerking himself in stuttering strokes, every pass of his hand like an electric shock of hot pleasure. He does his best to keep some semblance of a tempo, following the way your body lifts up, and smacks back down. Wet plaps echo through your living room, all three of your voices filling the space, and Caleb (almost, not really) feels bad for your neighbors.
Zayne’s cool hand lands on his, the one on your back, threading his fingers in a semi-awkward position, enough to loop the pinkies, but it grounds Caleb, an anchor in the rolling sea. At the same time, you reach a hand behind you, searching for a part of him to grab, landing on his wrist.
Zayne pulls you in tighter, whispering about how good you and Caleb are, how divine you feel, how kind Caleb is to let you come. His hips thrust up into you from below, faster and harder than the teasing pace from before. Your combined juices leave a nasty mix around Zayne’s cock, a frothy ring forming around your cunt.
Caleb can do nothing but whimper, guttural yelps forced from his gut with every pathetic word he cries. "Please, please, Pips. Please come."
He grips tightly around his base, so painfully hard that his skin is turning an angry red, to stop himself from busting too early, waiting for your permission. You turn your head, nodding in time with Zayne’s thrusts, and you must be getting close, too, by the way Caleb can see you squeeze around your husband. God, his resolve is breaking. He strokes his entire length, swiping over the head and gathering the pre-cum to jerk back down.
What breaks him is when your eyes finally meet, your pupils blown wide and empty, with a pleading furrow in your brow. He comes on your back, thick spurts painting your intertwined hands, with a loud drawn out groan.
It sets off a chain reaction, and Zayne releases inside you right after. It doesn't take you long to follow, not with Zayne's rough voice at your ear and Caleb massaging his cum over your skin.
He'll apologize for making such a mess later, but for now he is delighting in the sight. Zayne even has the audacity to untangle his cum-covered fingers and stick them into his mouth.
The three of you stay like this for a while, breathing heavy, relishing in the storm of sweet release.
Your hips twitch, riding the aftershocks, Zayne’s cum leaking from you steadily, still not ready to pull out.
“Thank you,” Caleb manages after a while. “For letting me watch.”
“Of course, puppy,” Zayne replies. “But don’t you want your reward?”
His ears perk up. Reward?
Caleb realizes that you never stopped looking at him. Not since you twisted your body around just to watch him bust a load all over your back.
You pop off of Zayne’s cock, cum spilling from your puffy cunt, and turn around so that you’re facing Caleb now. You position your knees outside of Zayne’s so that you’re properly on display for Caleb’s hungry eyes. Zayne’s hands roam over you, showing off his prize. One tweaks at a hard nipple, while the other spreads your pussy lips wide. Zayne, on the other hand, is already half-hard, cock bobbing back to life between your legs.
“You get to choose who fucks you first, puppy.”
Oh, fuck. The Li’s are going to be the death of him.
frenzied was the only word to describe his deep thrusts rendering you speechless and dizzy in the messy bed.
xavier is behind you, shirtless, with evidence of your bunny-like fucking plastered all over his chest and upper back, while his mouth and hips work in tandem to convert you into a dick drunk mess. his calloused hands hold open your ass to watch his cock, coated in your lewd cream push in deeply, to the point where his tip is making out with your cervix, only to retract where his rounded tip rests on your abused opening. the gaze of his darkened cerulean eyes is heavy as it travels all over your body, your back covered with sweat and hickey’s, lower body stuffed full with him and singing him with sweet praises.
frenzied is the only word to describe xavier.
“ if only you could see yourself, star. how do you expect me to be calm when you look and sound like this?” his rambling soon ends with a moan, driving his hips deeper— with the goal to completely wreck you by the end of this night. his pointed ears pick up where your soft sounds lack, a key sign that he’s hitting that spot inside of you and you're close to coming for the nth time that night, which didn’t look like it was close to ending, no matter how many times you paint the man and bed in your cum. “ you went quiet… must feel good, huh? you’re a total mess for me.”
the intensity is too much for you to handle, too much for you to describe, falling somewhere in between primal and euphoria— you’d rather leave it there. sharp, intense waves of pleasure rack through your body in waves as the sloppy curve of his dick massages through each part of your whimpering walls, cutting off your prior thoughts and revolving them around him. “ xavier! i c-can’t take it, you’re too deeeep, please!”
“ mmph— no, get back here,” he raspily huffs, hands shooting out to firmly grasp your hips and shift you back into the position you were once in, ass up, where he delivers striking slaps to your skin while your face is pushed down into the sheets, causing you softly whimper at. a hand between your shoulder blades presses you firmly down as guides his dick back into your weeping pussy. groans mix in with your elongated moans as he breaks into your pussy, effortlessly finding your weak spots and pinpointing them until you’re back to being a broken mess. “ don’t run from me. shh, let me hear her, the only part of your body that’s tellin’ me the truth right now.”
“ still… can’t take it,” glossed eyes roll back, lips breaking agape in a gasp. he’s just so long, too long for you to pathetically describe, and what’s more better than a man who loves treating you as if you were unbreakable— on the battlefield and on the bed. your puffy hole eagerly sucks in every inch that he gives you, contradicting yourself almost entirely. you swing your arm back, pawing at his lower stomach, a feeble attempt to control his overbearing thrusts.
“ move your hand.” his verbal demand turns physical as the next thing you know your arms are pinned against your back— giving him leverage to wreck you in further. your plan of escape soon benefits him by breaking you along the bed, it seems. every nth inch of xavier’s staggering size drills into your cunt deeply, causing your expression to furrow as only you can concentrate on him spending your body. your cunt is a drenched mess, clenching around his cock with each estimated thrust. no wonder why he refuses to listen to you. “ gotta teach you some stamina, star. you can take it; do you hear how you suck me in, like my good girl?”
the air you share is indecent, he damn near folds you in like a pretzel as his orgasm ebbs. a thumb finds its way into your hot mouth, pressing down firmly on your tongue, ensuring you suckle the digit. you barely register he’s coming until his tip twitches a startling two times; a hefty load of his cum finds stability in your warm womb. “ fuuuuuuck, good girl. such a fucking good girl for me, aren’t you, star? mhm, take it alll for me.”
his rude hips continue to buck, confirming that every inch of cum is pumped into your walls, where he finally leaves you alone for the night.
“ h-haaah, you’re so… nasty, xavier. i can’t even feel my lower body.”
your back is greeted by the sheets, bleary eyes looking down at the silver haired man parting your thighs. he purses his lips, a fat glob of spit making contact with your pearly clit as the sensation rolls down to your gaping hole.
“ who said ‘m done? i told you we’re working on your stamina, did i not?”
Like Enjin already inside of you, balls smacking againist your ass, your back arching. I mean he’s a big guy, I mean if 7 x 7 = 49, then he definitely got a big dick, too bad it’s stretching you out.
His rough, big hands around your waist just driving his cock straight inside you, hitting that sweet spot. Every single thick stretch just driving you to the edge.
You already came several times, just for him to roll his hips into you, it felt so good, didn’t it?
“Fuck, you greedy thing” he growl low againist your ear, your eyes already rolling back, as he hit that spot again.
Before you could even catch your breath, zodyl’s dick already in your mouth. You could barely breath , taking him further down your throat.
Him just using your throat, he’s just so big. You could feel the dark patch hair tickling your faceeeee.
Them just wrecking you together, <3
Fucking you hard, from the back and front. Your caught between them, while they used you as their personal toy, a personal pocket pussy.
Filthy praise spilling from their lips, “Fuck, just like that”
Every single time they say it, just made your pussy clench down on his cock. Your practically shaking, tired and just wanting more at the same time,
“You’re close aren’t you..”
Zodyl pulls out his cock from your throat, your spot connecting back to the pale pink tip, just leaning down near your ear, “We’re not done with you, can’t have you walk?”
Just for Enjin to pull out shortly, just for both of their cock to be bullied into your cunt, making your back arch.
I mean you’re just so full, stretched out— and little bulge in your stomach. <3, there so rough, just fucking their cocks into your wrecked pussy.
“Fuuuuuck, look at that” Enjin whispered into your ear, his big hands on the area of your stomach, “Your taking us good, hm…greedy little thing”
Zodyl’s breath against your ear, his teeth grazing your ear, rocking his hips into your pussy. “Greedy”
Your shaking, dried tears on your cheeks, overwhelmed by pleasure. Just overwhemled , feeling big hands groping your chest; thumbs rolling your nipples,
𖹭.ᐟ | caleb cant help but get vocal when he's with you </3
caleb was an absolute mess, and if you were to tell anyone, they would never believe you.
the dirty rhythm of caleb slamming his dick into you from behind filled the room, along with the pretty noises slipping out of your mouth, but somehow caleb ended up being the loudest.
"h..holy—shit!—you're taking me so fucking..so well." his voice was rough and broken, whines practically clinging to the end of his words as he leaned down by your ear, panting.
you couldn't respond as he pounded into you relentlessly, and when there was a pause in his movements, you took the time to take in a sharp breath, only for it to be stolen from you with another thrust into you.
your eyes rolled back as your mouth stayed open, sounds escaping your mouth with every thrust into you.
caleb squeezed his eyes shut as he kept up his pace, his strength faltering from the sheer pleasure your cunt was giving him.
one particular thrust shook his entire core, and he choked on his spit, the sudden loss of air almost made him cum on the spot right there, but he stopped himself as his coughs turned into whimpers.
caleb's voice was downright pathetic at this point, hoarse and cracking. but he was trying oh so hard to keep his composure and be the one in control.
"good—hnngh—good girl.. cunts squeezing me, feels like I can't fucking breathe."
you squirmed under him, biting your lip as your eyes rolled back, your own body nearing the edge of your climax.
caleb's noises started to get louder, and that's when you knew he was close to the edge himself, it was easy to pick up the way his pace grew more inconsistent and how he couldn't hold any of his noises back.
"pips— gonna cum.. you'll take it for me right? be such—fuck—be such a good girl?"
his voice could have been dominating, if it weren't for the way it was cracking at every word, and he sounded like he would be on the verge of tears if you even attempted to say no to him.
you nodded wordlessly, working your mouth to let out even a few coherent words.
"y-yes.. please it feelsso—ah!—feels so good, 'leb!"
your thighs shook as your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, biting your arm to keep some sounds back, already mentally apologizing ahead to your neighbors for the sheer loudness of both him and you.
caleb felt his own release chasing him after yours, his pace growing more sloppy and rough before he finally spilled inside of you, a sound between a groan and a whine finding its way past his lips as his head fell forward.
he eventually collapsed over you, both of you still catching your breath and regaining your bearings, equally spent.
groaning, you tried pushing caleb off of you to the side, still to weak to do anything.
"lebb, you're too heavy, get off"
no response followed, and that's when you twisted your head around, eyes glaring.
caleb was already fast asleep, his snores picking up in volume as a line of drool fell past his lips.
god, you wanted to slap him silly, but knowing him, he would probably like it.
jjk debut soon with higu my man mmm. be prepared for (potentially) lots of choso , im downbad for him
The first time you cry during sex, it breaks something in Zuko. He’s typically a gentle lover, but he’s had a rough day and just needs a release.
He’s got you in missionary, hips pistoning into you and the tip of his cock kissing your cervix so sweetly. His head is nestled into the crook of your neck, soft grunts leaving his mouth.
However the smallest sniffle from you stops him in his tracks, he pauses, lifting his head and eyes widening as tears are pooling in your eyes.
“Love, am I hurting you, I’m s-so”
He pauses when you wrap your legs around his waist, “Nnn-no,” you mumble, barely coherent, “Feels—feelsgood” Tears are streaming down your face at this point, “Pl-please, dnt stop.” You cry out.
His eyes widen and he tests it, moving his hips slightly and you whine at the sensitivity.
“Yess yess, pleaseee.”
Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, cock twitching inside your pretty cunt, and he realizes he’s fucked. Those fat globs of tears dripping down your cheeks have him turned on more than he’d like to admit. Now he has no choice but to make you cry every time he buries himself in your sweet cunt.
化身 › aang is addicted to the way you taste MDNI. adult! aang. öral sëx ( f receiving ) overstimulation ✶
aang lives for the quiet moments when the world narrows down to the soft weight of your thighs against his shoulders
you’re telling him about your day, words tumbling out between soft sighs as his mouth works against you. he’s not really listening, not to the specifics anyway. he’s more focused on listening to the cadence of your voice, the way it soars octaves higher when his tongue finds that perfect spot, the way it trails off into nothing when he steals your words completely.
it’s no secret that aang is insatiable when it comes to this. he revels in it. in being nestled between your legs, your scent filling his senses, your saccharine taste coating his tongue. he could spend hours like this, days, a hundred years maybe, exploring every dip and fold of you with his tongue. you’re so pliant in his arms, melting into fur pillows, into him, as he builds you up and up and up. driven by a fervent need to give you everything he has, to pour all of his love into you until you physically can’t take it anymore
your trembling hand is curled into his shoulder, nails digging in just enough to sting. crimson crescent moons that’ll fade by dawn. he loves that, loves the way you mark him, loves the way your grip tightens when his nose bumps against your clit. your breathy moans are music to his ears, better than any melody he’s ever composed on his airbending flute. the unfiltered sounds of your pleasure spur him on, make him want to draw even more of them from you.
he gets off on the way your thighs quiver around his head, on the way your back arches off the bed. on the taste of you, on the knowledge that he’s the one doing this to you, that he’s the one making you feel so, so good. he knows your body better than you know it yourself, knows every sensitive spot, knows every possible way to make you gasp and cry out his name. and he’s addicted to it. to you. a glutton for your pleasure
aang doesn’t let up, even when he knows he should. even when the sun’s closer to the west and he’s already late for his avatar duties. how can he leave? how can he pull away from this, from you, when you taste like nectar? when you sound like a dream? when your slick is dripping down his chin, completely intoxicating?
his pupils are blown wide, the silver in his irises barely visible around the edges as he looks up at you. he’s lost in you, in the way your body responds to his touch, the way your breath hitches and your hips buck. he’s counting your orgasms in his head, one, two, three, until he’s lost count completely, until you’re just a writhing, whimpering mess beneath him, mind gone blank with pleasure, storytelling forgotten.
he keeps going relentlessly, tongue flicking and circling your folds, lips sucking gently, then harder, until you’re crying out, until tears are trailing down your cheeks from the intensity of it all. it’s only then that he finally lets up, pulling back just enough to press a soft, apologetic kiss to your inner thigh. his lips are swollen and slick with your arousal, but he can’t resist leaning in to taste you again, just a little, just one more time.
౨ৎ — after you let it slip that the vibrator you just bought can’t get you off, bsf satoru gojo is more than happy to help || MDNI, smut. 1.6K words
inspo from this post by @blkkizzat. love her sexy brain.
there’s nothing quite as thrilling as having the man you told your exes not to worry about perched right between your legs.
you lie on your bed, naked from the waist down while your best friend sits fully clothed and examines your vibrator like he wishes he had a microscope to give him a better look.
he moves it from one hand to the next, the very picture of indifference when he switches it on.
satoru shakes his head when the toy quickly spurs to life and fills the room with it’s constant hum, “there’s no way wanted to throw this away,” he starts “seems perfectly fine to me.”
your eyes narrow the tiniest bit.
“well, you're not the one who has to use it.” you grouse defensively.
and maybe you were a little more pent up than you thought, because the image of him doing just that starts to take shape. the man practically lives in sweats, so you’ve caught the print of his dick more times than you’d ever care to admit.
and in your mind’s eye, you can picture him rubbing the vibrator against his tip then all the down the thick veiny length. white lashes fluttering and neck muscles bulging as the vibrations made him twitch in need—
cerulean eyes flicker to yours, and satoru smiles like he knows exactly what you're thinking. slow, full of teeth and boyishly sexy.
“you’re totally thinking about me using it, aren’t you?”
you forcibly expel the image away with a shake of your head.
“you wish,” you smack his arm a little too hard, and it has him groaning between a chuckle. ignoring the flush in your cheeks, you raise an eyebrow at him, “i still can't believe you offered to do this by the way.”
“i can’t believe you agreed,” he quips just as quickly and well…fair enough. because you couldn’t either.
satoru readjusts so he’s on his knees and dips his head, his eyes following the length of your body until they land right between your legs.
you watch them dilate until only a thin ring of blue remains, and the longer he stares, the more heat rushes south. cool air feathers over your cunt and the achy tease of it, coupled with the weight of his rapt attention, have your legs trying to close again.
satoru doesn't let you get far though. he grumbles his disapproval, freehand spanning over the plush flesh of your thigh and spreading you open again.
“don’t go shy on me now.”
your hips shift a little. “you’re staring.”
he huffs out a laugh, hand spasming over soft skin, “can you blame me?” he asks with a good helping of reverence and not a lick of denial in the question.
his eyes never stray away and fuck, you don’t even think he’s blinking.
“almost want to take my time with how pretty she is,” his chest rises with a deep inhale, like he’s trying to breathe you in. “wet too.”
one look at your face lets him know that you would walk out if he tried, and he has to stifle a grin.
“maybe next time,” he decides, and when he sees you about to tell him there won't be a “next time”, he lifts the vibrator and presses the tip of it against your clit.
and for someone who claimed it didn’t work, the effect it has on you is intense. your breath hitches, body bucking up, and he groans at the sight of your tits bouncing under your shirt.
he nearly dropped to his knees in anguish when you refused to take it off, but the way your nipples stiffen under the fabric almost makes it worth it.
“oh shit,” the moan draws his attention away from your chest, and he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth at the fucked-out look on your face.
satoru drags the silicone toy along your slit, and while glittery wetness immediately drenches it, it’s not nearly enough.
so he rears back and draws his cheeks in. when his lips part, a fat blob of spit splatters onto your clit. your hips pitch and the mess drips all the way down to your ass.
satoru watches your head roll against your pillow. hair splaying out messily and eyes a little too glassy, “toru,”
“too pretty for your own good, ” he husks quietly. as if it was only meant for his ears.
he presses himself against your thigh. cock thick and hard as it strains under his jeans, and you clench around nothing. suddenly painfully empty.
with how easy it is for satoru to map your reactions, someone would think this wasn’t the first time the two of you were doing this. it's like he can sense what you need long before you do. so, when your lips part to beg him for something your mind can barely string together, he's already nudging the vibrator against your entrance and slowly pushing it inside.
he pumps it in and out of you in deep, teasingly slow strokes that make it impossible to bite back your moans.
they sound embarrassing to your ears. all too high some moments and wavering into soundless gasps in others, but satoru clearly doesn't share the sentiment. he grinds his cock against your thigh harder, and it pulses with each sound that pours out your mouth. he feels them wash over his back and light up the base of his spine in a white-hot beam.
“you’re so fucking hot,” the vibrator is turned up a couple notches, and you freeze when you feel it.
you’re close.
a broken gasp escapes, then you react how you always do.
you run from it.
panicked and restless when your hips shift back and each pulse has you squirming.
you only get far enough to make an inch of the dildo slip out before a hand curls around your waist and holds you in place.
“where are you going?” gojo tilts his head at you and you think his eyes are the brightest you’ve ever seen them.
slowly, something clicks into place behind them, and a huff of laughter bubbles out.
“wait…don’t tell me you're a runner,” he's so tickled you're tempted to hit him again. but it's impossible to do anything but jerk when he plunges the toy to the hilt again. “well shit, baby, no wonder you thought it was broken.”
his eyes crinkle at the corners, and you would’ve found his wide grin cute if he didn't turn the intensity all the way up.
he lets the toy buzz inside of you and when you recoil, both hands grip your hips and swiftly tug you back.
“nuh uh, we can’t have you running away when you’re so close.”
“f-fuck, i can’t,” you whine. head shaking from side to side, and he coos.
“of course you can, pretty,” satoru drapes his body over yours, one burly thigh snug between your legs to keep the toy in place. and to keep grinding against your soft thighs.
“you’re doing so much better already,” he murmurs quietly, hips already moving against you. “just need me to hold you down and make you take it, hm?”
he phrases that like a question but slants his lips over yours to muffle your answer. satoru groans into your mouth, tongue swirling around yours and teeth sinking into your bottom lip.
your fingers twist into the sheets, clutching at them as if they would ground you. it proves useless because the filth coming out satoru’s mouth is clearly trying to leave you wrecked by the end of this.
“god, the sounds you make around fake cock,” he grunts against your jaw, hips shuttering for a moment before rutting harder. “should’ve—shit—just offered you the real thing.”
arousal pools around the vibrator to drip down onto the sheets below and it takes everything to keep your eyes from rolling backwards.
“oh my god,” you whimper, and he licks up the seam of your lips.
“be a good girl and stop holding back. let yourself feel it,” your hips roll upwards and his chest rumbles with a sound that doesn’t even sound human anymore. “yeah, there you go, fuck yourself on it.”
he was delirious. blabbering almost as much as you were, but at least he was halfway coherent. your limbs seal around him. legs coiling tight around his trim waist and hands sneaking under his shirt to scratch at his back.
your nails must dig in a little too deeply because a hiss is punctured against your lips. you draw back, scared you hurt him, and he shakes his head.
“do it again,” he pleads. palming your clothed tit. “like you mean it this time.”
a shocked huff leaves you, “jesus, you’re insane.”
the unhinged laugh that echoes through your room only proves your point, but you oblige. your nails rake over his muscled back, and the sound he makes makes your clit pulse.
“oh, c’mon baby harder,” you cut into skin, and he chokes. “ah—fuck yes!”
satoru doesn’t bother holding himself up anymore. he just lets all his weight bear down on you, basically trapping you under him.
he drops his head to the swell of your breast, and your back bows when he latches onto your nipple through your shirt, sucking it into his mouth and wetting the fabric.
“cum for me,” he hums against the peak when you tense under him.
you have a brief moment of panic when your breath gets stuck somewhere in your chest. it wracks with a broken sob, and even when you go limp with your release, the vibrations between your legs don’t stop.
satoru shudders not long after you. moaning between your breasts while his cum makes a mess of his briefs. it spurts onto material in thick pulses and you swear you feel it on your skin. warm, sticky and sleek.
he stays on you for a second longer, then lifts himself onto his elbows so he doesn’t accidentally smother you.
it’s only when he slides the vibrator out that air returns to your lungs. tension leaves your body and your spine loosens again.
your eyes flit over to him and they bulge when you see him raise the toy to his mouth. glossy lips wrapping around the silicone, as he sucks your arousal and cum off of it.
the slurping noise he makes while he keeps his eyes on yours has liquid heat building up in your belly again, so intense it’s like you didn’t cum seconds ago. he releases it from his mouth with a pop and grins widely.
“see? works perfectly.”
you had a total psycho for a best friend, and whatever craze that infected him had to be spreading. because when he parts your legs again, murmuring something about making you squirt with round two…
note: hi this is a scheduled post. period cramps currently have me on my ass but i’ll be back online as soon as i can. lmk if you saw any errors okay? okay.
ps: @rambld see what other best friends are doing? lock in.
Synopsis: putting a sex ban on your husband? Lol let’s see how long that lasts
Feat: gris, bro, enjin, tamsy, corvus, zodyl x afab!wife!reader (individual)
Content: bit of humor (wife is mad over something dumb), unprotected sex, size kink, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, pússydrunk men, use of blindfold (bro), mating press, doggy style/pronebone, choking, manhandling, mean dom!zodyl, lots of teasing, I hope I didn’t forget anything but I apologize if I did!
master list - here w/c - 6k (average 1k each)
♥︎ —Gris Rubion - 3 days
Your husband, as sweet as he is, doesn’t always know how to control his strength.
He’s a big guy, and fairly strong, so manhandling is something you’re accustomed to when you’re having sex. Usually you don’t mind it—love it even. But this last time you were left unable to walk properly for several days and it prevented you from effectively assisting the Supporters on your latest job.
So, you told him he was banned from sex for a week.
Not even cause you were really that mad at him (after all you were partially to blame for egging him on for another round or three) but you just needed a break from the insatiable beast that was your husband.
Initially, Gris was truly apologetic. The last thing he wanted was to cause you any discomfort. And the first day, he respected your wishes.
The second day, his composure started waning. Little things like you usually did like kissing his cheek or getting dressed in front of him admittedly got him a bit hot under the collar. Even actions that weren’t remotely sexual like you putting on lipstick had him squirming in his seat. Especially knowing that he was prohibited from taking things further, it just made him want you even more.
He really tried. He truly did. But if it’s one thing Gris could never do was ignore you.
And only three days into the ban, Gris was unable to resist you no matter how much he tried.
“G-Gris?!” You gasp when you’re suddenly pushed against the wall. Your husband’s hands creep up your shirt, his touch eliciting electricity across your nerves. He gropes your breast, and you try not to moan as they make their way lower. “H-hey, wait!”
“I’m sorry,” Gris mumbled. He dips his head into the crook of your neck. “I really tried. Tried to hold back, but—fuck—I can never stay away from you for too long. Can’t stop thinking about you or this sweet pussy.”
Gris presses himself flush against you, his hands dipping beneath the waistband of your panties. When he finds that you’re already wet for him, he groans. You can feel the strain of his erection, thick and hard against his thigh, as he ruts against your ass.
“P-please? Fuck. Let me feel you?” Gris stammers. “I need you. I-I’ll be gentle this time.”
Perhaps it’s the way he sounds so needy—desperate—pathetically trying to grind against you the get himself off that you relent in a moment of weakness. After all, the ball is currently in your court. Your husband is putty in your hand, all too willing to comply to your demands as long as it ends with you taking his cock.
“O-ok,” you shakily exhale, trying not to whimper at the way his fingers prodded at your entrance. “B-but only on one condition.”
“Fuck. Anything.”
“Put your mouth on me first. I want you to eat me out.”
Gris is all too eager to comply.
When you gave him the green light, he was immediately undressing you. He sunk to his knees to throw your leg over his shoulder before devouring you right then and there.
“S-shit! Gris!” You gasp, curling your fingers into his blond hair. He lets out a groan as you tug harshly. But his mouth stays firmly pressed against your cunt, his hands gripping your thighs and waist as he greedily tries to taste you more. His tongue is wicked, delving through your folds with tantalizing strokes that have your legs feeling weak.
“God. You’re so addicting,” Gris slurs. He don’t think he’d ever get tired of the sounds of your pretty moans. And the last couple days has been torture knowing he’d been deprived of being able to indulge himself in your sweet saccharine taste. “Fuck, please don’t be mad at me anymore. Don’t like it when my pretty wife ignores me.”
You shudder out a whine as his tongue fucks into you, rough and relentless. Anything but the gentle he promised. Though you couldn’t say you were mad. Not when he electrified all the nerves in your body, having your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head.
And oh how sloppy he sounded.
Gris is messy, sucking and sucking, not caring about the drool or slick that coats his face and chin. Just tasting you has him so hard that he could cum in his boxers alone if he wasn’t so desperate to have you finish first.
“Can’t stand not being able to taste you either,” Gris drawls. You shiver when he places a sloppy kiss against your cunt. “Not being able to taste her. And just look at how much she’s dripping for me. Like she missed me too.”
“T-that’s not…o-oh shit…”
You cry out as he eases his fingers in alongside his tongue. The erotic squelch from when he curls them inward, searching for that sweet spot of yours, has his cock throbbing.
“I-it was only three days,” you whimper. “Y-you act like it’s been a week.
“Don’t care if it was twenty four hours. My point is, it was too long.”
Your clit tingles as he teases his teeth across the sensitive bundle of nerves. His lips glisten, coated messily with your arousal. He grips handfuls of your ass, holding you steady to try to drink up more of your addictive release as he grows rougher. And rougher.
“F-fuck, Gris, don’t stop,” you gasp.
You feel your head spin as the overwhelming pleasure overloads your senses. Tears brim your lashes. Your back arches up, pressing yourself firmly against his face as you tug on his hair, making him groan.
Dots spot your vision as your orgasm rolls through you. If it weren’t for Gris holding you up, your buckling knee would’ve given out. But when you look to your husband with that disheveled expression—an unspoken plea for more—his remaining restrain snaps.
Gris lifts you with ease and tosses you on to the bed. Before you could find the words to speak, his mouth is on yours hungrily while he finally frees his twitching cock from his boxers.
“Sorry, my love,” Gris grunts. You yelp as he suddenly and roughly manhandled you into the position he wanted, pulling you toward him and wrapping your legs around his waist. He rubs the swollen head of his cock against your clit, smearing precum across your folds like he was marking you as his.
Gris shudders at the thought.
“I know I promised this time to be gentle, but I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back.”
♥︎ —Bro Santa - 14 days
When you told Bro about wanting a break from sex, because work stress was killing your libido, he is completely respectful of your wishes. It honestly has you feeling a tad guilty since he doesn’t even fight you on it or complain.
The first five or so days were fine. Bro continued to let you wake up in his arms each morning and would kiss you goodbye before heading off to work. The evening consisted of intimate cuddles and conversations, but it never progressed further than that.
You spent the time also working on your health, even meeting with Alice to discuss ways to balance your stress and what you could do to regulate your hormones. Honestly, with a few simple lifestyle changes, a week or so into the ban, you wanted your husband. Bad.
But strangely, Bro wouldn’t engage.
You tried everything. Being extra flirty and touchy. Walking around the bedroom in just a towel after showering. Intentionality bending over so he could get a view of your lacy panties.
Nothing.
And by the 14th day, two weeks after you implemented the ban, you’re convinced that your husband was mad at you.
“Are you not attracted to me anymore?” You blurt out when you and Bro are finally alone in your room. To his credit, Bro looks genuinely surprised.
“Whatever gave you that impression?”
“It’s just…this last week, I’ve tried everything to get you to have sex with me and you’ve shut down or ignored all my advances. So I’m convinced it’s cause you’re either mad at me for the ban, or you’re no longer attracted to me..”
You hadn’t realized you started crying until Bro cupped your cheek to wipe the tears away. “Believe me when I say I always want you. Not being able to touch you was truly torture on my end.”
“T-then why didn’t you say anything sooner? I only said no sex for a week.”
“Because I wanted to respect your boundaries,” Bro answered honestly. “Your comfort was more important than my desires. And until you verbally gave me the okay, I was going to continue to wait patiently.”
Your heart swoons and you think you’ve fallen in love with the man all over again.
“Please, Bro…” you whisper, pulling him to you by the front of his shirt. “I want you.”
Bro swallows thickly as you press closer, a dark look in his eye as he watches your movements intently. “Yeah? And how do you want me?” He asks.
“Hmm?” You stand on the tips of your toes to kiss his jaw. “B-behind, please.”
“S-shit.” Your husband shudders. “Take your clothes off then get on the bed. Hands and knees. Wait for further instruction.”
You try not to appear too eager as you all but skip over to the bed, pulling your shirt over your head and shimmying out of your underwear. Following Bro’s directions, you climb on to the mattress, resting on your hands and knees while you wait for him.
A nervous thrum of excitement courses through you, pooling in between your legs as you hear movement behind you, but you don’t dare look back. Unspoken orders just as well applied and you didn’t want to risk Bro deciding to punish you for misbehaving (though you’ll gladly push those buttons another time).
The bed dips.
You sense him before you feel him against your back. The warmth radiating off his chest has you trembling when all of a sudden, you can’t see.
“B-Bro—!?”
“Shh, relax. I’m here.”
He had covered your eyes with his beloved cloth.
Without your sight, all the other senses heightened, leaving you straining to make out where Bro was and what he was doing by touch and sound alone. And it left you feeling all the more sensitive—vulnerable.
“This okay?” Bro’s breath tickles your ear, making you shiver. He kisses your shoulder blade tenderly, his hands gently skimming up and down your waist. You shakily sigh, arms buckling slightly.
“Y-yeah. Hurry up,” you whimper.
Bro chuckles. “Patience, sweetheart. I haven’t had my fun with you yet.” He presses a kiss against the back of your neck. One of his hands found yours, his much larger palm comforting as your fingers intertwined. “You know I got you. Just let yourself go for me.”
He aligns his cock at your slick entrance, his other hand gripping you hips as he eases himself in slowly. Bro bites his lip to stifle his groans, trying not to move too fast to let you adjust to his size. You arm buckles, but he holds you steady as he continues to inch his cock forward.
“T-there you go.” Bro groans. “Taking me so well.”
Your tears dampen the cloth around your eyes. The stretch of him felt so much bigger from behind. And without your sight, your body reacted even stronger to the way his length nudged against your quivering walls, massaging the points where you’re most sensitive.
“A-ah…B-bro—“ your body slackens, but his arm wraps firm around your midsection. “Fuck—I-can’t…”
“You can,” Bro grunts. His breath his shaky, labored from holding himself back. “And you will.”
You cry out as his hips drive forward. The fat tip of his cock stretches your pussy to the brim. Your fluttering walls struggle to mold around the shape of his length, messy as your arousal drools onto the sheets. You feel the throbbing veins on the side of his length, and your stomach feels so full.
His breathy chuckle fills your ears. He cups your chin, turning you to face him. Bro kisses the tears streaking your cheeks. “See. Y’fit so perfectly around me,” he mumbles, tracing a hand over your hips and abdomen. “Can you feel me right here?”
You moan when he presses down ever so slightly. “P-please. I-i need—“
“Don’t worry,” Bro reassures. “I’ll give you what you need. We have fourteen days of lost time to make up after all.”
♥︎ —Enjin - Barely 48 hours
Enjin thought you were bullshitting when you said you were implementing a week long sex ban.
But you were 100% (well like 85ish percent) serious. You were more annoyed than anything with your husband’s seemingly inability to ever pull out. It wasn’t like you could easily find contraceptives like condoms or other birth control on the Ground. And you both usually tried hard to be careful, especially when you knew you’d be ovulating.
That never really quite stopped Enjin though. But how could you blame him?
True, he could stand to be a little more careful and at least attempt to pull out, cause quite honestly he doesn’t even try. It wasn’t his fault that whenever he felt you around his cock he lost all sense of reason. Blame your pussy for being so addicting in the first place.
And he’s not happy about the so-called ban. Especially when you turn on your side and go to sleep on the far edge of the bed makes him realize you were in fact not bullshitting.
Still, Enjin’s not going to accept this quietly. In fact, not only is he gonna complain about it the entire next day, but he’s going to drive you mad with your teasing until you ultimately break.
"Babeee, come on," Enjin drawls. He drapes himself across your back, his tattooed hands fluttering across your waist that honestly makes butterflies coil within your stomach. "How can I apologize and make it up to you if you keep ignoring me?"
"I-I'm not ignoring you," you hate the way your voice cracks, cause you know someone as attentive as Enjin has picked up on it. A momentary lapse in weakness. A sign that you're beginning to cave. "I'm talking to you right now."
"You know that's not what I mean."
One of his hands skirts up your shirt. You bite back a moan as he gropes your beast, pinching your sensitive nipple since you weren't wearing a bra to prepare for bed. Enjin presses his lips to the back of your neck, continuing to work his hands up. He grins as you lean back into his chest. Your body trembles ever so slightly from his touch.
"E-Enjin...I-I said yesterday..."
"I know, I know," Enjin surprisingly laughs. "Look, if you want me to stop, just say the word, and I'll back away. But--" you whimper when he pulls away, the loss of touch making you ache for it all the more. "I'm also not continuing until you tell me what you want."
"I--"
Fuck. Who were you kidding but yourself? You could lie about your desires all you wanted, but it didn't change the fact how bad you wanted him. But, you weren't going to make it easy for Enjin. You too, knew how to manipulate the situation in your favor.
You turn to face your husband and muster up the most serious expression you could. "I want you to apologize."
"Hmm? And how can I apologize to my pretty wife?"
"Make me cum, and then I'll consider forgiving you," you instruct.
Enjin's smirk widens. "Say less."
His mouth is on yours--hot and desperate--while his hands cup under your thighs to carry you to the bed. He kisses you with fervor, trying to swallow up your moans and savor the taste of your lips against his. Enjin drops you on to the bed, leaving you panting while pulling his shirt over his head. You trace a hand across his chest along the intricate designs of his tattoos.
Your touch makes him shiver.
"Careful," Enjin warns. "I won't be as gentle if you feel me up like that."
"Is that a promise?" You ask sweetly, continuing to feel down his firm abdomen over his crotch. He groans when you squeeze him, the swell of his cock already beginning to strain uncomfortably against the fabric of his boxers.
In one swift movement, Enjin has you flipped on to your stomach, your face shoved into the pillows. He adjusts your hips to the height he wants, squeezing your ass playfully.
""Yer such a brat, you know?" Enjin exhales shakily. He fumbles to free his length from his boxers. Beads of pre pearl from the tip when his cock slaps against his lower abdomen, streaking across his abdomen. "Was this all part of your plan with that silly little ban to begin with?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," you babble. Your hands tighten across the sheets as you feel him ease in to your eager cunt from behind. The further he presses his hips forward, the more his length drags against your gummy walls. You groan into the pillow, your hips snapping back to meet his.
The thick girth of his shaft causes the most delicious stretch that has you gasping. The blunt head of his veiny length reaches the deepest parts of your womb without Enjin having to move much. His heavy, aching balls nudge against your clit as he ruts against your ass, trying to fill you completely and imprint your cunt with the shape of his cock.
"No?" Enjin asks. He slowly pulls his cock out of the clamp of your weeping hole making you whine as you feel every inch of him. Your puffy lips fluttered around his length, your slick release allowing him to slide back in with ease "I take it your pussy being this damn messy wasn't part of your plan either?"
"N-No!" You gasp when Enjin suddenly pins you to the mattress with his weight, rutting into you rough and fast. The swollen head of his cock bullies against your cervix with each deep stroke, working in tandem to have you seeing stars as he stretched you out in all the best ways, stringing you further and further along until the winding pressure of your release snaps. "A-Ah--y-yes!"
"Yes? No? Which is it?" he chuckles. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. It will end with you creaming around my cock either way."
♥︎ —Tamsy Caines - 21 days
Tamsy found your little ban amusing. You were cute when you were mad at him, so he was going to play your little game. How long would you truly last until you break? Surely not the whole entire month like you so claim.
He's not going to let you off easily either. He's going to torture the hell out of you for the next month until you're begging for him.
The first week of the ban, Tamsy carries on like nothing is out of the ordinary. Good morning kisses. Gentle intimacy of cuddling. Nothing out of the ordinary to lead you to suspect that he's affected by the ban in any way. In fact, it's as if you never even implemented, because not once has he complained.
The second week is when the toying starts. His touch becomes more intentional. His hands linger a little too long on your waist. Or he's absentmindedly tracing your skin, knowing where you tend to be more sensitive and squirmy. He's making sure to tempt you, but he never quite touches right where you want him to, leaving you frustrated and wanting more.
Of course, Tamsy plays innocent through it all. "Something the matter?" He asks.
"No," you huff, too prideful to admit that he's starting to get to you. "Nothing is wrong.
By the third week, Tamsy can see that you're starting to break.
You're clearly antsy. Tamsy notices the way you would subtly shift in your seat, pressing your thighs together or the way you were eyeing him as if you're undressing him. But he pays no mind, carrying on with his usual gentle affections that ultimately have you spiraling.
"Okay! Fuck you win!"
Feigning confusion, Tamsy looks up from his spot on the bed, when you storm into your shared room in a huff. "I don't think I follow?"
"The stupid ban? Forget it. You win."
Closing the book he was reading, Tamsy bites back his amusement when he faces you. Oh how he loved the look of frustration on your face, clearly so needy and depraved, but of course, this was and still is a game to him.
"I don't recall this being a competition. You were the one that said no sex for a month, and if I recall, it's only week three."
"I don't care about that anymore! I change my mind!" To Tamsy's utter shock, you throw yourself on to his lap, sinking to your knees on the floor. His composure breaks for a split second when he stiffens, but he schools his expression into a smug grin. "Please, Tamsy? I can't take it anymore."
"Well, you are asking so nicely." He grips your chin, turning your head to look at him. You whimper as he's by no means gentle. "I would feel almost bad saying no. Especially since you look so pitiful."
"Please?" You beg. "I-I need you. I-I...I need your cock."
A flush covers Tamsy's cheeks, and he's unable to hide his look of surprise and consequently, how your words affect him. He swears under his breath, before pulling you to him and his lips are on yours.
He kisses you hungrily, surprised by his own desperation to feel you and keep you close. Though he'd never truly admit it out loud, the last three weeks have been torture for him, trying to keep his desires in check all while he toyed with you. All it would've taken was one wrong move, a lapse in judgement to escalate things, and he would've been the one caving first instead of you.
Clearly, Tamsy has you spoiled. All you do is bat those pretty eyelashes of yours and it has him bending to your every whim.
"Just look at you~" Tamsy muses. Your folds are already slick and glistening when he pulls off your underwear. Dragging his fingers down your slit, he grins at the way you squirm. "You're this wet already?"
"I-its cause of all your damn teasing," you try to sound mad, but can't stop the moan that escapes your lips when two of his fingers prod through your entrance.
"It's my fault? You're blaming your poor husband an awful lot for your actions."
Bringing his fingers to his mouth, Tamsy sucks your juices off them, groaning at way you taste. He could feel his dick throb in response, and he was briefly torn between wanting to drink you up more or having you take his cock now.
"T-Tamsy, please, m'sorry. Jus' need you inside already," you plea.
Your cunt was practically aching with the need of him filling you up. And you were nearly feed up with his antics. You just needed the slightest bit of relief, something to settle the budding pressure between your legs, so you bring your fingers down to circle your clit.
Suddenly, Tamsy grips your wrist tightly, pinning them above your head.
His rough handling leaves you gasping, and you're barely able to gather your bearings when he folds your legs over his shoulders, fucking into you deep in one hard thrust.
"Ack--Tamsy!" Tears dot your lashes, and you can hardly breathe with your knees pressed to your chest. Still, the position has pleasure coiling within your stomach, because he feels so impossibly deep this way.
"You're such an impatient brat," he sighs, though it sounded more like a groan. "Shit...I almost forgot how heavenly you feel."
Tamsy shifts his hips, gripping your thighs as he presses you further into the meanest mating press. The thick length of his cock drags across your gummy walls when he moves. Your cunt seems to convulse in response, squeezing around him tightly as your arousal drools down his shaft.
"F-fuck, you're too deep~" You whimper. At that, your husband chuckles, dipping his head down slightly to kiss you.
"I'm going to have my way with you however I want," Tamsy whispers. "So I don't want to hear any whining, because you're not leaving this bed until I've had my fill."
♥︎ —Arkha Corvus - 10 days
Corvus was entertained by the little bet you proposed.
No sex for a month? Whoever lasts the longest without caving gets bragging rights and any favor from the loser? Sure. He’ll pay your little game.
The rules were simple.
Any teasing was fair game as long as it wasn’t physical.
Normal forms of physical affection such as kissing, hugs and cuddling were allowed, but one was not allowed to utilize it for teasing that could result in the other person cumming.
The first person to yield before the month ends admits defeat and the other person is deemed the victor.
Sounds easy enough.
Little did you know, Corvus knew from the start that he would lose.
Sure, he was happy to play along with your little games, especially given how competitive you were. But he already knew that he could never truly resist you.
So rather a competition with you, it was more so a test to himself of how long he could hold back. How long could he pretend that your kisses don’t affect him? That he wasn’t turned on by the sight of your lacy panties that barely covered your ass? Or that he wanted nothing more than to rip that towel off of you when you walk around the bedroom in just that.
Short answer: 10 days.
“I’m afraid, I admit defeat, darling,” Crovus says. His lips press against the shell of your ear, making you shiver. He readjusts you in his lap, a seemingly innocent gesture if it weren’t for that you’re currently trying to seat yourself on his cock.
And fuck was he so pent up.
You could barely sit comfortably with how seemingly engorged his length was, the swollen tip nudging against your most inner walls with every slight shift. And you were trying your best to take him all the way, pushing and pushing, inching him further.
Your trembling thighs were slick with your arousal dripping in between the two of you. And you already felt winded though he wasn’t even halfway in.
"A-Arkha, I-I--"
Was his cock always this thick?
Your husband's kiss is gentle against the back of your neck before he whispers an apology. His hands grip your hips before he slams you down on his cock until your pelvis hits his. Corvus breathes heavily as he waits for you to adjust to his size. You squeeze around him so tightly and your walls seem to keep fluttering as you struggle to accommodate him.
“So, based on the terms of the competition, it would seem that you win," Corvus chuckles, his voice heavy with lust. Warmth radiates from his firm chest as you keen against him. He gropes your breasts, squeezing the sensitive mound in his palm while his other hand skims across your thigh, inching closer and closer to your puffy and swollen folds.
"Which means," he continues, "you have a prize to claim. What shall it be, my love?"
Corvus pinches your nipple between his fingers making you gasp. Your hips jerk. "I-I want..." you blink back tears. "I want you to fill me up and make me cum."
"If that is that is what you wish."
He hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls your legs back against your chest in one swift motion. You gasp out as his cock kisses your cervix followed by subsequently rougher and faster thrusts that have you seeing stars.
Corvus drives into you with precision, intent on drawing out your release that was quickly coiling tighter and tighter as his length fills you up again. And again. And again. As your cunt squeezes around him, seemingly trying to suck him deeper, he lets out a low groan, hips stuttering in their pace.
"Your pussy is one day going to be the death of me" Corvus laughs lightly. "I knew from the start there was no way I'd win this competition. I can never--ngh--t-truly resist you."
"T-Then why did you agree?" You whimper as he pulls your legs further back, deepening the feel of him in your womb.
"Hm, perhaps simply for my own ego. Was trying to prove to myself more than anything." Corvus pauses just briefly enough to lift and turn you around. For the first time, your husband truly looks disheveled, skin covered in a sheen of sweat. His gaze darkened, shrouded in pure need, but also, the barest hint of the usual adoration he regards you with.
"And how foolish I was."
He slams you back on his cock and claims your lips in a kiss before you could scream. He sucks the air out of your lungs, relishing the way you taste. You grind down against him, the friction stimulating your clit, which has you cumming seconds later with Corvus's name a meek plea on your tongue.
"S-Shit..." Corvus fucks you through your overstimulation. He feels his balls constrict and his abdomen tightened. One, two, three more thrusts and he’s gripping you close to him when his orgasm hits hard. He pulls you into his chest, holding you close as he pumps his cum deeper all while gripping your hips with bruising strength.
Your body trembles and all your energy disappears as you succumb to the euphoria induced lightheadedness. You feel your stomach warm as your husband paints your insides white with his release. He cums so much that sticky globs ooze out your poor cunt, dripping down your thighs when he slides his cock out slowly.
"This won't do~" Corvus tuts. "I won't fulfill my end of the deal at this rate."
"W-What?" You stammer. You tense, before letting out a shaky moan when he presses his fingers into you, pushing his cum back in.
"Ten days," Corvus drawls, teasingly tracing his thumb around your clit to make you squirm. "Ten days I've neglected this pretty pussy. Failed to satisfy my wife. It truly won't be fair unless I give you an orgasm for every day, no?"
♥︎ —Zodyl Typhon - 7 days
Zodyl doesn’t understand what you’re mad for.
He was too rough? You couldn't feel your legs? Your hips were aching?
Was that not the point?
Well, apparently not to you, and as punishment, you implemented a two week ban on sex.
The first couple days, he acts like nothing is happening. It honestly doesn’t even phase him until about day three when you go to bed without so much as even acknowledging him. That’s when Zodyl realizes you were truly serious about the ban.
What’s even worse is that you will barely talk to him, only giving him short answers, still clearly irritated. It has Zodyl genuinely at first starting to feel bad, but he starts to begin to suspect that you’re in fact doing this little stunt for attention. After all, you talk so casually and freely with the other Raiders but give only him the cold shoulder? Not to mention, you won’t hear him out to apologize?
And he wasn’t wrong. You were intentionally being a brat. Intentionality trying to rile him up, which was definitely working.
By the fifth day Zodyl was annoyed.
By the sixth day, his patience was waning.
By the seventh day, he finally snaps.
“Hm, where’d that attitude of yours go?” Zodyl muses, clearly entertained by the sound of your whines and halfhearted pleas. His hands are firm around your waist for leverage as he drives his length in and out of your weepy cunt. You've already cum once--or maybe twice-- you weren't even sure anymore, completely delirious from the way the thick, bulbous tip continued to kiss that sweet spot of yours again and again.
And Zodyl by no means cares how overstimulated you are. Your pussy continues to gush around his length, coating the base of his shaft in a messy ring of white. Each time his hips snaps against yours, the resounding sticky pap, pap, pap, of your arousal only in fact seems to continue to spur him forward.
"Z-Zodyl, wait! Fuck! I’m gonna cum again-n-no no!” Your bite down on to the pillow, muffling your cries, but Zodyl neither stops nor slows down. His veiny cock drags across your gummy walls, claiming every inch of you, reminding you who you belong to.
"Funny how all it takes is giving you my cock and that little facade of yours begins to crumble," Zodyl chuckles. "You're dripping, love. Tell me, did you miss it that much?"
"T-That's not--ack!" The air is sucked out of your lungs when Zodyl grips your throat, pressing just hard enough for you to be breathless. "A-ah, please..." you whimper.
"I’ve put up with your little tantrum for week now. Feel free to be mad at me all you want, but I don’t take kindly to you ignoring me."
"M-m'sorry."
"I somehow doubt that you are." Zodyl presses his hips forward, making you gasp as he pins you to the mattress. "Maybe if you give me another orgasm, then I'll consider forgiving you."
"B-but I can't cum anymore~" You whine.
"I’m sure you can.”
When his arm wraps around your throat, trapping you in a near headlock, your eyes roll back. Despite how lightheaded you feel, electricity explodes throughout your body, tingling throughout your sensitive body. Zodyl hisses through his teeth feeling your cunt throb around him.
"Fuck, you like me being rough with you?"
"Y-yes!" You could hardly breathe, tears clinging to your eyelashes, but Zodyl didn't budge when you push back against him. "A-ah, you're so deep--P-Please, I-I need--"
"Don't worry," Zodyl pants. He squeezes just slightly, leaving you winded enough to want more. "I fully intend to satisfy your every need."
He begins to fuck back into you with that same relentless pace, the stretch of him seeming suddenly bigger than a moment ago. And everything about him is so much larger, keeping you helplessly trapped against him. But the thick curve of his cock continues to press forward inch by excruciatingly delicious inch while he fills you to the brim over and over just the way you like.
And Zodyl would be lying if watching you struggle didn't turn him on more.
He could feel his self control slowly slipping away, becoming rougher and harder, making the bed creak. He could feel himself throb, his already sensitive cock aching for relief as you squeeze around him.
"S-shit...Zodyl...gonna-" You choke on your words as your release hits you so hard, you lose your breath. Your clit tingles, the overstimulation nearly making you sob.
Your husband swears under his breath. He drives himself as deep as he could. All the pent up frustration from the week has him cumming thick ropes into your womb. The intensity rocks his body. His hips stutter forward, Zodyl grabbing the headboard to steady his balance and catch his breath. You take the momentary reprieve to gasp, the dizzying euphoria finally beginning to subside.
"A-ah," you groan, your hips aching when Zodyl shifts you into his lap. To his credit, he takes the next couple minutes fussing over you. Despite his roughness, Zodyl hadn't left any marks, which he never wanted to do. "I can't feel my fucking legs. I don't think I can walk."
At that, Zodyl chuckles. "Why ever would you be concerned with that?"
You give him a confused look. "Excuse me?" Suddenly, your world blurs and you're flipped on your backside. You gape up at your husband, who merely runs a hand through his hair to smooth down the wild, lose, strands. His other hand holds his cock that's still slick with your arousal.
He's already hard again.
"You needn't concern yourself with such frivolous ideas," Zodyl says matter of factly. "I have no plans of letting you leave this bed for the next week."
hi! i wanted to ask (only do if ur comfortable) can you do the lads boys individually spanking x afab reader? it’s okay if not!!
#YKYouWannaSpankThatAss!!⭑.ᐟ
⭑.ᐟSYNOPSIS You really can’t help it, you truly love teasing your dear boyfriend! You just sit weren’t expecting him to retaliate in this. . way
⭑.GENRE smut, porn with little plot
⭑.INCLUDE Caleb, Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Sylus (separate)
⭑.WARNING fem!reader, explicit content, no possible spoilers, established relationship, possible grammar errors, not proof read, face down ass up (Caleb), mentions of overstimulation, implied creampie, pet names, hair pulling, squirting, breeding, p in v, no protection, oral (fem rec), doggy style (Xavier), marking, cowgirl (Zayne, Sylus), jealous sex (Caleb, Xavier), lil bit of mean! Zayne, breast play, 1k per Li, author note at end!(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡
⭑.CALEB
The feeling of overcoming bliss is drowning you, overstimulated to the max, left twitching and throbbing in ecstasy. There is a slight sheen of sweat on your burning hot flesh, glistening. Caleb has your face pressed firmly against the drool soaked pillow, moans and whimpers are barely bearable due to the pillow muffling your strings of harmony, ass pushed up
Caleb has a firm grip on your plump hips, forcing you in place as he slams his hips into yours— fat cock pushing deep into your velvety walls with a wet squelch, heavy balls slapping deliciously at your puffy clit. Occasionally, there’s a small peak of his dick, a white ring formed around the thick base of his cock, a sticky mixture of yours and his’ previous orgasms.
“Mmhp—! Hnng. .” You loudly moan into the pillow, uselessly scratching at the soft yet slightly wet fabric.
Cock buried deep in your pussy, he rolls his hips— stirring up your cum coated walls with an obscure and nasty squelchhh. In response, his thick cum pools around his thick shaft. . his seed slowly drips onto the dirtied sheets. You let out an exhausted moan into the pillow, squealing loudly when Caleb pulls out until only the bulbous tip of his cock was plugged into your messy hole before slamming his hips into yours, with a pwap plap, causing your walls to quiver around his dick. . gushing out even more of his cum.
“Nngh sh- shitt, babe! S- so noisy. .” Caleb heavily pants out, teeth biting at his swollen bottom lip, drawing crimson liquid from the flesh.
“B- baby! Y- you’re soo —hnng. . wet” He hiccups, pausing his motion of rolling his hips against yours, opting to switch to thrusting deep and hard into your gushing cunt.
While you’re exhausted and purely cock drunk, Caleb, somehow, has enough pleasure to pound you into the bed— perhaps it was the godly sight in front of him that spurred him further on. Scattered along your neck, collarbone, and back are purplish red bite marks littered on your flesh. . deliciously pretty. Every time he slams into you, your plump ass jiggles and bounces with the toe curling thrust— there’s a mixture of sweat and dried cum on the flesh.
You squirm and thrash, weakly attempting to escape from the mind numbing pleasure that’s being fed to your body. The grip on your hips quickly becomes mean and bruising, it’s obvious Caleb isn’t going to let you easily escape from him. You drool into the pillow, tears spilling from your watery eyes.
One of the hands on your hips shakily grab at your hair, gently yet firmly pulling you from the tear shaken pillow— forcing your body into a difficult arch that lets Caleb abuse your sweet spots even better.
“Do- don’t try to —ohhhfuck. . t- to squirm from me!” Caleb grunts out, releasing your hair, letting you slump back onto the bed before his hips grab at your hips tightly.
Your eyes go wide, that knot in your belly snapping, pussy gushing around his cock for the nth time. The feeling of overstimulation is familiar, your body trembling against the bed— sobbing into the fabric when Caleb’s full balls slap harshly at your engorged clit, causing jets of cum to squirt from your cunt.
“F- fuckkk. . Yo- you’re squeezingme sooo tight—! Nnghfuck. . baby!” He chokes on a moan, fingers digging deeper into your plump hips, surely leaving purple marks behind, tugging you to meet his thrust halfway.
“L- leb’ haaah-! Sl- slow!” You squeal, voice muffled by the cloth.
The wet plap and fwopping sounds of Caleb’s skin meeting yours in deafening, mingling with the nasty squelch and slosh of your velvety walls stretching perfectly around his dick. Submitting to desire, a hand grabs at the globs of fat of your ass— fondling and greedily groping at the soft flesh that spills between his fingers.
“Haah. .? W- what was that, baby —nngh!” Caleb groans out, pinching at your ass.
“Wa- want me to —ngh shit. . s- slow down? N- no. Yo- you’ve. been. teasing. me. all. fucking. day—!” He breathes out between loud moans and whimpers, each word followed by a delicious thrust that makes tingles course through your spine. . the creaking sound of the bed giving way slowly intensifies.
“Y- you’re gonna break —ohmygod. . t- the bed!” You attempt to reason, that doesn’t stop you from squeezing tightly around him as you buck your hips to feel him push in deeper into your pussy.
Your words seem to go into one ear, exiting out the other. It’s like Caleb hasn’t really processed your words, mindlessly fucking his overstimulated cock erotically into your sloppy cunt.
“G- gotta t- teach you a lesson. . hnng-!” Caleb hiccups, hands lifting in the air before landing on your asscheek, eliciting a delighted squeal.
It’s louder and clear now— the sounds of the bed shaking, the faint cracks of the wooden frame giving way. Completely cock drunk, you struggle to push your ass back against Caleb, desperate to feel his cock burying itself deeper and deeper into your gooey walls until you're full of his thick cum. Another painful smack has you drooling and whimpering into the pillow, the dim pain melting into overwhelming pleasure.
“Haah. . Y’knew h- he was —holyshit. . fl- flirting with you, baby!” He whimpers out loudly, groaning when your walls spasm around his length when he brushes against your sweet spot.
Another loud smack, your poor asscheek is already beginning to turn a pretty shade of red— you’re loving every second. That familiar knot in your lower belly is getting tighter and tighter, you are soo close to cumming again.
“Hnng—! P- please. . d- don’t stoppp!” You mewl, gasping in ecstasy when he pistons his hips to ensure he pounds into your sweet spot.
You can tell he’s close too— the way his grip on your hips and ass tightens painfully, his thrust sloppily, cock throbbing and bobbing deep in your pussy, his moans and whines getting louder. You let out an open mouth scream into the pillow, cumming for the nth time around his cock, the ring of cum smearing onto his pelvis and the skin of your ass. Caleb whimpers your name loudly, pushing his hips flushed against yours, balls pressed against your puffy clit, cock spurting a copious amount of cum into your cunt, the excess dripping out of your stuffed pussy.
“Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyoui—“ Caleb babbles dumbly, rolling his hips against yours, the wet slosh of him burying his seed deeper into your pussy.
He slowly pulls out with a wet pop, silently watching his cum pour out from your messy cunt. Caleb drags his cock through your swollen folds, back and forth, pressing himself back into your cunt with a wet squelchh. A weak attempt, you try to squirm and thrash from his grip but he keeps you still, hips smashing into yours.
Not a single drop of regret bubbles in you— getting your boyfriend jealous might be your favorite occupation, especially when he’ll fuck you stupid and spank you until your ass is a pretty shade of red in response.
⭑.RAFAYEL
Perhaps having Rafayel as a boyfriend has made a certain playful side of yourself develop— you’ve been teasing him all week in numerous ways, knowingly riling up your poor boyfriend. Sitting on his lap randomly, grinding your ass against his crotch early in the morning, bending over to pick up something you accidentally dropped. It was inevitable, he’d eventually submit to his own desires.
He is in heaven— the feeling of plump, squishy thighs pressed firmly against the sides of his head, the scent of you is much more intense, and your sweet cunt for him to mindlessly lap at. So what if he easily fell for your little trap? How could he possibly care when he’d end up trapped between your thighs? Rafayel is nasty messy, dragging his tongue through your slickened folds— the noisy sound of his lips wrapping around your puffy clit, the wet squelch of his tongue dipping into your gummy entrance, and the muffled sounds of your boyfriend moaning into your pussy.
Each time Rafayel drags his tongue along your syrupy slit, perfect nose pressed into your clit— you’d buck, tremble, and hump his face weakly. . smearing your sticky juices all over his face. And every time you’d unconsciously press your pussy harder into his face, he’d let out a shameless moan into your core, the delicious vibrations coursing through your body. . making you moan even louder. Ooh fuck, and the way you’d let out a deafening squeal when he thrusts his tongue in and out of your velvety walls— your fingers darting to firmly grab at the purple strands of his hair, carding through his hair and occasionally tugging on it.
“Mmhp— ohhhfuck! Hung. . r- rafyie” you mewl out softly, voice hoarse and broken from how much moans and whimpers that Rafayel has ripped from you, you weakly roll your hips to grind your overstimulated pussy on his face.
This is the first time you’ve ever heard your boyfriend soo quiet before, minus all the moaning and whining he’s unbashfully letting out into your swollen pussy, finally not babbling out praise and worship for you. However, that’s just because he’s proving his love in another way— keeping his mouth busy with lapping, sucking, slurping until you can’t help but cum into his mouth. Rafael slowly drags his thick tongue through your sopping folds, up and down in a dizzying manner, his nose pressing against your swollen clit. . lewdly inhaling your addictive scent that surrounded him.
The pressure on your clit has you crying out his name loudly, squirming lightly. Each time Rafayel glides his tongue through your syrupy pussy, your folds part, giving him the chance to taste the arousal that leaks from your messy hole. The grip on your hips tightens, a finger tapping on your plush flesh twice— you lift your hips up enough room for him to breath.
“Haah. . ohmygod, my pearl” Rafayel breathes out between ragged pants, his warm breath fanning onto your spit and arousal covered clit.
“You taste sooo de- delicous, cutie. .” He says quietly, kissing at your puffy clit tenderly— chuckling softly when the bud throbs against his lips.
Rafayel tugs you back down onto his face, fingers tightly digging into your plump hips. . forcing you to roll your hips, grinding your heat on his face. He glides his tongue through your folds two times, back and forth back and forth, before he plunges his tongue into your quivering hole— summoning a loud whine of pleasure. The feeling of his tongue dragging along your velvety walls has your toes curling, eyes rolling back, and a whine of Rafayel being ripped from you.
“Hnng-! I-I can’t —nghhh. . can't take anymore. .” You babble out, squirming and writhing, though to no avail.
He tilts his head upwards, lips engulfing your puffy clit— sucking harshly until he feels your hips jolt. Greedily, one of his hands grabs at your ass chick while the other one stays glued firmly to your hips. Rafayel plays with the supple flesh, squeezing and fondling at the globs of fat on your ass— giving it a soft smack.
“Haah-! Nnghfuck. . t- too much. . raf’!” You sob loudly, tears clinging in the corner of your eyes.
The feeling of overstimulation has you whimpering and trembling helplessly, but Rafayel can’t stop— he needs to coax out more and more of your delicious juices. Oh, he’s hooked on you. He’s basking in your reactions; every single time your moans become high pitched, he’d peer up from between your thighs.
“Mmhp—! Fu- fuck. . feels too Ra- Rafie! Wanna. .—nghh, cuum” you slur out dumbly between whines, squealing when he spanks to the flesh of your ass.
That knot in your stomach is getting tighter with every passing second, you are trembling violently now. Rafayel’s tongue delves through your sopping folds— tongue tracing through your creamy slit, driving you closer and closer to your impending orgasm. Maybe the lightheadedness, from the lack of oxygen and drunk off your taste and scent, finally got to your boyfriend’s head— perhaps that’s the only explanation of his cock throbbing violently in need.
Rafayel is widely bucking his hips into the air, fucking into nothing— caught between the option of eating you out until his jaw aches or giving into the need. . ultimately choosing to worship his girlfriend. The moment he suckles onto your clit, tongue smoothing the swollen flesh. . you’re letting out a loud sob, tears dripping down your cheek. You wail loudly, cumming around nothing, shakily rolling your hips as you ride out your orgasm.
“Haah—! Fu- fuck me. .” you sigh out softly, shakily lifting yourself off his face.
There’s thin strings of arousal connected between your pussy and his face, his face covered in your juices and arousal. Messy and nasty.
“Haah. . yo- you taste soo good” Rafayel pants, it’s quite obvious he’s just as drunk as you are— pussy drunk.
“—Need more. .” He murmurs out, gently spanking the warm flesh of your ass, dragging you onto his face again with the personality of man that intends to make you jelly boned and sobbing in ecstasy.
⭑.XAVIER
You are a complete, hot mess— fat tears clinging from the corner of your eyes, loudly whimpering and whining from the overwhelming pleasure, weakly and helplessly clawing at the soft fabric of a pillow before you. Eyes burning with hunger and need gazes at your body; skin covered in a slight sheen of sweat from the heat and ecstasy. . glistening in the dimmed lights to cast a pretty shining effect on your gorgeous body, scattered along the flesh of your neck and back are purple and red hickey marks from Xavier’s hungry mouth.
If it wasn’t for the calloused hands, greedily grabbing at your plus hips with a firm grip, dragging you to meet Xavier’s rough thrusts halfway. .you would have already collapsed on the bed from the sheer exhaustion. You’re completely drunk from that additive feeling of intense pleasure, with each orgasm ripped from your body, the pleasure bleeds into overstimulation yet you still beg for more— perhaps this is what it meant to be cockdrunk. You are tumbling violently like a small leaf, you can barely hold your loud whines and tears every time his cock drags perfectly along your velvety walls. . easily pounding into your sweet spots.
The apartment room is deafening, surely the lewd harmony you both are creating can be heard perfectly. Each time Xavier gives you a frantic and rough thrust, his slender cock pushing deep into your gooey walls, an obscure squealchh and sloshing sound of your sopping cunt would fill the room along with the sounds of slick skin slapping against each other loudly.
“Haaah—! O-ohfuckk. . f- feels sooo good” you mewl loudly, there’s a subtle burning sensation on your arms that’s planted on the bed, it must be from you trying to hold yourself up for soo long.
“Nngh. . X- xavie!” You cry out his name loudly, earning yourself a pleased groan from your boyfriend.
A noisy sob is ripped from your swollen lips when one of Xavier’s hands drags along the skin of your back to grab at your plump ass— needy fondling, squeezing, and smacking at the flesh until it turns to a pretty shade of red. In his eyes, he’s leaving his own mark on your delicious body. . just like what you did to his neck, except he’s worse and meaner.
“Mmph haah. . yo- you knew he was —fuck. . staring a- at you. .” Xavier breathes out between ragged moans and grunts, hips noisily slamming into yours, the red, globs of fat jiggling from the impact.
“We- were you tr- tryna’ . . nghfuuck so tight— make m- me jealous, darling?” Somehow, his thrusts become inhumanly and mercilessly fast. . causing a silent scream to be ripped from you and your head to become only a mush of thoughts while your white-coated walls quiver around his cock, eliciting a breathless whimper from Xavier.
Oh godd, the way his cock drags along your sensitive walls has your body trembling from the overstimulation. The mess between your plump thighs is getting everywhere: the bed, the sheets, on your skin, and Xavier’s thighs and abdomen— the mess is starting to become worse and worse, your sloppy hole keeps leaking out a sticky mixture of your juices and his previous orgasms onto the bed below. Another rough spank to your ass has you bucking your hips towards him, weakly fucking yourself on his length.
“oooh— fuckfuckfuckfuck! Nngh. . X- xavie! I- I. . f- feels amazing!” You squeal out loudly, fat tears dripping down your flushed cheeks— each rough thrust has a pleasurable wave of heat coursing through your body.
The sensitivity seemingly makes your senses sharper than usual. . everything feels more intense— the way Xavier’s slender’s cock throbs and jolts deep inside the warmth of your cunt or the way his balls slap, pwop, at your puffy clit til you’re gushing around his base.
“I- I’m soo sorry— fuck!” You wail out, lips parting as strings of moans are ripped from you, eyes rolling back with a particular rough thrust.
His hands cracks against your ass again, the sting melted into delicious and addictive pleasure, you gasp in response. Perhaps you did go overboard with making your dear boyfriend jealous, but getting fucking so good that you become cockdrunk. . you really wouldn’t mind doing it again. Those heavy balls of Xavier’s smacks against your engorged clit, heat pooling to your lower belly.
“Haaah—! O-oh god. .” You drool, becoming awfully aware of that knot in your lower belly growing tighter and tighter.
“Mmhp—. . a- and you —fuckkk. .” Xavier barely manages to get words out, groaning softly when you feel you flutter around his cock soo tightly.
“. .pretends l- like he wasn’t st- staring —holyshit, darling. . at y- you” he stutters out, another rough smack on your asscheek, eliciting out a yelp from you.
“X- Xavier—!” You voice is high pitched and deafening as you cry out his name, shamelessly moaning your boyfriend’s name. . there’s no way that man basically eye fucking you couldn’t hear from his room.
“Hhng nngh—! Y- yes. . yesyesyes, scream out my n- name, starlight” Xavier encourages.
Xavier is so close to cumming; that rude and mean grip on your hip tightens ever so slightly, his thrust becoming sloppy and downright needy for an orgasm, and the way he’s just pulsing and twitching inside you.
“C’mon. . s- scream out my name —gonnacum. . wa- want him to know y- you are all minee” he drools out, hips smacking painfully into yours.
“X- Xavier —hnng, please!” You squeal, eyes rolling back as velvety walls quiver around his length, creaming around his cock for the nth time— the ring of cum around his base smears onto your skin.
He lets out a breathless whimper, resting his weight on top of your body. . keeping you trapped against the bed. Xavier’s body is flushed with yours, cock spurting an overwhelming amount of cum into your stuffed pussy. Your eyes roll back, weakly gasping when he presses his hands onto your back, slowly thrusting his sensitive cock into your gushing and creamy pussy.
“X- xavie. . nooo! F- feel’s tooo good. .” You drool into the sheets, unable to make an effort to squirm away from the mind numbing pleasure.
Even though Xavier is completely dumb from pleasure and overstimulation is biting at his flesh and mind. . he can’t stop— he needs to ensure that man knows you are his. . even if you spend all night fucking like bunnies.
⭑.ZAYNE
Your body feels extremely exhausted, skin sweaty and glistening, skin burning hot to the touch from the delicious heat that’s bloomed between you and your boyfriend. The addictive sensation of your ass cheek throbbing in pain from the countless spanks Zayne gifts to your flesh only serves to further heighten your sensitivity— each cruel swat to the red globs of flesh draws out a whiney whimper from your spit covered lips. Perhaps, acting like a brat towards you boyfriends wasn’t the smartest choice you’ve ever made. .
However; being forced to perch on top of his lap, feeling his hard cock pressing deep into your cunt, while calloused hands tenderly massage and roughly spank at the globs of fat until your flesh was raw and a pretty shade of red wasn’t something you’d object to receiving as punishment. Shakily and weakly, you roll your hip— eyes rolling back when you feel Zayne’s thick cock brush perfectly against your g-spot, whimpering when your puffy clit catches at the rough fabric of his pants.
“Haah—. . ohmygod. Za- Zaynie!” You whine out his name in such a sweet voice, gasping erotically when he grabs at your sore ass cheek, firmly squeezing on the raw flesh while helping you bounce on his twitching cock.
It’s a mess, tears clinging onto your lashes, drool seeping from your parted lips as you pant out warm air, mind set on one thing. . to finally cum after being edged for soo long. You quickly bury your fingers into Zayne’s shirt, bunching the fabric up between your fingers. . using it as leverage.
“Hnng—! C- can’t take it anymore. . b- baby!” You whimper out, trembling lightly in his arms.
Each time Zayne slams you back onto his lap, you swear, his cock reaches soo deep into your sopping cunt— forcing your pussy to make the nastiest and obscurest squelching sound. The wet squealchh and sloshing of sound of his dick reaching deep into your gooey walls can be heard from outside the closed room, along with the wet plap of skin meeting each other.
“Nghh. . oooh, p- please, Zayne! N- needa’a cumm. . sooo badly. .” You beg in a whiney tone, sobbing when his cock massages your velvety walls perfectly.
There’s a subtle burning sensation in your thighs from overexerting yourself, yet, you just can’t stop. . you really need to cum. Zayne groans out softly when he feels your walls spasm and flutter around his cock, dragging out a delightful moan of your name.
“Z- Zayne. . c- can, anymore—“ you mewl, words barely making sense anymore.
You are so close to cumming, that knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter than expected, the way your gooey walls spasm around his throbbing cock is enough to tell. Zayne huffs out between moans and groans, one of his hands on your plump hips dragging up your back— tugging you to be fleshed against his chest, fucking up into your messy cunt.
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease—! Wanna cum soo. . — Haah, need’a cum, please za- zaynie!” You babble out pathetically, burying your head into his neck— lips sucking at his flesh until a pretty bruise blooms at his skin.
You let out a loud cry when you feel Zayne’s hands gently smack against your ass cheek, a loud fwop, a silent reminder that he’s treating this like a punishment. You whimper softly when he fondled your ass cheek, pushing deeper into your sloppy pussy.
“You’ve been acting like a brat. . all. fucking. day. darling” Zayne clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, each word followed by a toe curling thrust that makes a delicious wave of heat course through your body— earning a sob in response.
“You h- have clearly —nngh fuckk. . ha- haven’t learned your lesson, m- my beloved” he groans out between gritted teeth, wrapping his arms around your back to keep you trapped and flushed against him, angling his hips to graze against your g-spot.
“P- please, Zayne! I- I won’t tease you anymore —haah nghh, feels soo good” you wail out, nuzzling yourself deeper into his neck, lips wrapping around his sensitive skin and sucking pretty bruises and love bites on his flesh— eliciting a breathless groan from your boyfriend.
He knows you are lying. .
“P- please, j- just let me cum. . baby—“ you gasp out, weakly bucking your hips to meet his sloppy thrusts.
How could Zayne possibly deny you when you’re pleading so sweetly, tears dripping
onto his skin, muffled whimpers by his neck, gooey walls slamming around him. His thrusts become hurried and sloppy, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. Oh fuckk, the way his cock drags along your velvety walls has that knot in your stomach tightening and your eyes rolling back.
“Come on —nghhfuck. . c- cum for me, be- beloved” Zayne manages to breathe out between broken grunts.
One of the hands gripping firmly onto your hips dips between your bodies, finding where your two are connected— skilled fingers pressing and circling your puffy clit until you let out a loud cry. A loud moan is ripped from you as you gush around his cock, tears dripping down your cheeks from how intense your orgasm was, a ring of cum forming around the thick base of Zayne’s cock.
“Haah—! F- fuk, Zaynie!” You drool, letting out a shaky breath when he buries his cock to the hilt of your cunt.
His cock throbs and twitches deep inside your sopping pussy, ropes of cum shooting into your gooey walls. Zayne grits out your name, slowly bouncing on his cock to help ride out both of your orgasms. You are a trembling mess in his arms, still recovering from your intense orgasm.
However, Zayne is still bouncing you up and down his dick— overstimulation creeping over your body, you let out a soft whimper from the pleasure.
“Nghh. . Haah, mhhp. . ‘M se- sensitive” you mewl out, that doesn’t stop you from rolling your hips to gain some of that delightful overstimulation.
“You’ve been trying to get my a- attention all —fuckk. . day, darling” he mumbles, tilting his head to the side to press a warm kiss to your hair.
“Surely this isn’t enough to satisfy you. .” Zayne teases, that tone alone is enough for you to know he isn’t done with you just yet.
⭑.SYLUS
There was something soo enticing and entertaining about teasing your poor, oh so sweet, boyfriend restlessly. Ranging from innocently bending over in front of him wearing a pretty short skirt, gracing him the perfect view of your crimson panties. Purposely leaving the bathroom door wide open for Sylus to see you— naked and beautiful body covered in droplets of warm water, steamy air surrounding you inside the shower.
You’ve even resorted to indulging him in his desires, plush lips firmly pressed against each other in a steamy kiss— your warm lips lightly peppering against his jaw to his neck. . sucking a pretty mark onto his neck before pulling away with an obvious excuse. Oh godd, you truly can be quite a little minx. It was inevitable; Sylus would eventually submit to his own desires and corner you. . like a predator finally capturing its prey.
“Mmhp. . doing soo —fuckk. . well f’me, kitten” Sylus groans out between rough and ragged groans, voice muffled slightly by the mounds of flesh on your chest pressed against his face— occasionally taking in your perky nipples into his hungry mouth to suckle and lap at the bud until you whimper.
Sylus has a brushing grip on your squishy and plump hips, calloused hands helping you to ride his cock— the loud fwopping sound of his skin meeting yours is loud. His fat cock easily pushes deep in your velvety walls, due to the amount of wetness you’ve produced, with a lewd squealchh. The sticky mixture of both your essence and his cum is smeared everywhere; his lap, abdomen, and your thighs and ass.
Gazing up towards you with hooded eyes and clouded with desire, everything about you was intoxicating to him— fat tears clinging to your eyes lashes and eyes glossy, lips parted as he rips strings of moans from your swollen lips, and the way your gooey walls squeezes around his cock. . it makes him feel dizzy from the pleasure. You tremble in his hands intensely, barely letting out coherent sentences besides his name over and over. Sylus is soo big; buried deep in your sopping pussy, stretching your walls out perfectly, twitching and throbbing inside your cunt— it has your body burning in ecstasy and creaming around his thick base with a loud squeal.
Your thighs are beginning to have this slight uncomfortable burning sensation from spending such a long period of time being fucked dumb on Sylus’s cock, the pleasure has officially rendered you cock drunk.
“Hang mmhp—! I- I. . ca- can’t! t- too tired. . nghh!” You mewl out in a whiney voice, panting and breathing heavy from the heat.
Before you can even attempt to finish up your sentence, he’s bucking his hips to push deeper into your gushing cunt, pressing into your poor g-spot. That deep, unforging thrust he does has your eyes rolling back, and whimpering out your boyfriend’s name loudly. One of Sylus’s arms wraps around your back, pulling you closer to push your boobs closer to his face— he lets out a delighted groan into your perky nipples as he drags his tongue against the bud, drawing out a gasp from you.
“Y- you enjoy teasing —ohfuckk, so tight. . me, sweetheart?” He grunts out against your chest, engulfing both of your nipples into his hungry and insatiable mouth before sucking harshly, eliciting out a broken moan from you.
The only response he gains is an unapologetic and teasing giggle from you, it quickly melts into a loud and surprised moan when his hand on your hip swiftly cracks at your ass. Sylus swiftly spanks at the same cheek twice, summoning a loud moan, more tears brimming in the corner of your eyes. It shouldn’t excite you, but it does, the sticky cream that gushes from your cunt and forms around the base of his dick is enough evidence.
Perhaps it’s the overstimulation that’s making you act so giddy and incoherent— besides, it’s not like Sylus’s tone carries any hostility, in fact, it seems he’s teasing you back.
“Haaah—! Ohmyfucking. . godd, s- sy!” You wail out, velvety walls squeezing around his cock like a vice, that knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter.
“Mmhp nngh! I- I don’t know wh- what you're talking about, ho- honey!” You coo out softly, feigning innocence, whining out when his hands roughly massaged the reddened globs of flesh.
Another loud smack, your poor asscheek is already beginning to turn a pretty shade of red— you’re just in love.
“D- don’t fucking. . —nngh” Sylus starts, interrupting himself by lewdly slurping at your poor nipples, even gently nibbling at the flesh, electing a squeal from you.
Smack
“— act. . innocent with me, sweetie” he purrs out, miraculously speeding up his brutal pace when he feels our gooey walls quivering and flutter around his cock uncontrollably.
Smack. Smack.
You let out a loud wail, the little bossy word you wished to say dies at the tip of your tongue. At this point, there will be red marks on your poor ass cheek and a pretty bruise on your hips, serving as a sweet and lovely reminder of tonight.
“Oooooh. . fuck! fuckfuckfuck. .” You gasp out loudly, scratching at his chest weakly, leaving only red marks on his skin— earning yourself a raspy chuckle from your boyfriend.
“Nngh—! C- can’t cum. . not again—!” You wail out, trembling violently in his arms.
“Yes you can, kitten” Sylus murmurs against your swollen boobs, angling his hips slightly.
You drool, screaming out his name, eyes rolling back and toes curling— cumming around his thick cock for the nth time, sobbing when his hands spanks at your flesh again. You whimper, crying out his name when he stills fucking up into your messy cunt. You go limp in his arms, thighs trembling lightly.
“C’mon, sweetie. . — haah. . you’ve had your fun alll dayy” he draws out his words, pressing a soft kiss to the front of your neck, a complete contrast from how meanly thrusting up into your overstimulated pussy.
“Isn’t it fair I have mine. .?” Sylus teases lightly, fingers massaging at your red ass.
# All work belongs to only ME, jadestone2. Translating, plagiarism, copying, posting on another website, claiming as your work will NOT be tolerated, instant block⭑.ᐟ
⭑.[ AUTHOR NOTE ] Tehe. . betta weren’t expecting mommy to finally post hmm<33 but it did, mwah! Anywhores, I'm so so so rlly sorry for being absent, a lil summery, i did gain a leg injury and have already 2 weeks in the boot + i have to do another 2 weeks on ankle braces. . But I decided my babies deserve a long gift, I made to make sure I put my life in my writing<33 btw, if u say there’s obvious bias in how I wrote the characters, mommy is blocking you 4ever, tehe. I rlly love my new theme, I still have to change the whole blog but it’ll happen soon!
+ no Taglist cause I’m lazy lmfao, it’ll find u if it wants too
