CHEATER CHEATER ! — h. kinji & i. yuji ft. h. higuruma (pt. 02)
ˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: hakari finds out [name] cheated on him with yuji. or so he claims.
requests : rules
characters: hakari kinji and itadori yuji, ft. h. higuruma.
warnings : implied higuruma x reader (just a little), implied intimacy, reader is kinda selfish (i call it survival), not proofread.
wc: 1.7k
masterlist
cheater cheater ! masterlist
pt. 1
Hakari exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair as the weight of everything finally settles in.
"So. Gojo is sealed. Yaga is dead. Well fuck. That's not good."
Yuji lowers his gaze, the words hitting harder than he lets on. The mention of the ongoing collapse pulls his thoughts somewhere else entirely.
To you.
To the last time he saw you inside those barriers, and to the fact that he has no idea what condition you're in now.
"And [name]'s in there alone?" Hakari asks, his tone sharpening just slightly.
"Yuta went with her," Yuji answers immediately, almost too quickly.
Megumi flicks him a look from the side, subtle but unmistakable. The speed of Yuji's response doesn't go unnoticed.
You were a respected senior, so the idea that Yuji might have fooled around with you still sits strangely with him. But the devastation on Yuji's face tells Megumi there is more to it than what meets the eye.
All he could hope for is that Yuji hadn't indulged more than he should have. Megumi, having known you for a while longer, knew exactly to what extent you can go to get what you want.
Hakari clicks his tongue, trying to dispel the heaviness with a muttered, "I haven't been this depressed since Yakul got hit by an arrow in his butt."
The joke lands awkwardly and no one laughs.
The silence lingers just long enough before Hakari finally straightens, his expression shifting from irritation to calculation.
"Alright. I'll help you guys suppress the culling game," he says at last.
Relief flickers across Yuji's face, and Megumi releases a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"But don't get me wrong," Hakari continues, voice cooling as his eyes land squarely on Yuji.
"I haven't let my feelings get the best of me. This is a deal first and foremost, understand? Once the culling games are over, you will cooperate with me."
There's no mistaking the emphasis. This isn't charity. It was leverage.
Panda folds his arms thoughtfully. "You're trying to take advantage of the revisions to Jujutsu laws, right? What exactly are you trying to do?"
Megumi answers before Hakari can, his tone even. "Whatever it is, I doubt it'll be all that difficult."
Hakari snorts. "Ah, what do you know, sea urchin head."
Megumi doesn't react to the jab. Instead, he says calmly, "I'm the head of the Zenin clan."
The room stills.
Hakari blinks, then stares. "You're what?"
A pause.
Hakari steps closer, clapping Megumi lightly on the shoulder. "Let's get along."
Megumi nods once. "Sure."
Panda shifts the conversation back on track. "Now we just have to decide who's going to which colony. I think Yuta was heading to Miyagi."
Yuji's thoughts drift again, unbidden. Miyagi. He doesn't know which one you chose, only that you had insisted you'd manage. That you didn't need anyone hovering over you. He had believed you. He still does. But belief doesn't quiet the unease.
Before the discussion can continue, Kogane materializes midair, its mechanical voice cutting through the room.
"A player has added a rule to the Culling Game."
Everyone looks up.
"Rule number nine. Players can now view the information of other players, such as name, points, number of times they have added rules, and residing colony."
The atmosphere shifts instantly.
Kogane continues, listing the update without emotion, and a new interface becomes visible. Names. Points. Etc.
Hakari whistles. "He used a hundred to add the rule. Which means he's still sitting on enough to add another."
They scroll further.
There aren't many players sitting at one hundred points.
In fact, only one other name appears.
"Hiromi Higuruma," Megumi says.
"If we can get him to use his one hundred points to add a rule allowing players to transfer points," Megumi begins, already thinking ahead, "we can change the entire structure of the game."
Hakari leans back, studying Yuji again rather than the screen. "You planning to be the one to convince him?"
Yuji nods.
But Megumi assures, "We both will."
Hakari's gaze lingers, unreadable. There's something there; not quite resentment (maybe it is), but a quiet warning. He hasn't forgotten what happened. Not the alley or the tension.
But he knew [name] better than anyone,
"Don't screw this up," Hakari says lightly, though the undertone isn't light at all. "We're stepping into a game where hesitation gets you killed."
Yuji meets his eyes this time.
"I know.".
The abandoned theater had long since stopped feeling abandoned.
Dust still lingered in the velvet seats below, and the faint smell of old curtains and stale air clung to the walls.
But there was an unmistakable order to the stage now, as if someone had decided chaos should at least be properly arranged.
A single spotlight burned from above, cutting through the dimness and isolating the center of the stage.
And at the center of it all sat a porcelain bathtub.
It looked absurd placed there, dragged from god knows where, and positioned beneath the beam.
Seated within it, fully clothed, tie still perfectly knotted, was Hiromi Higuruma.
He wasn't slouched. Just extremely relaxed in the coldness of the water.
He sighed, hands resting loosely against the rim of the tub, his face tilted slightly upward toward the spotlight as though allowing himself to be examined.
You stood just off to the side of the stage, close enough that the edge of the light brushed your shoulder.
From the audience's perspective, you could have been mistaken for part of the set.
"You've reached one hundred points." you said, breaking the stillness.
"I'm aware." he replied without looking at you.
"Are you not going to use it?" Walking towards him, your strides slow and calculated as you take a careful seat on the edge of the bathtub.
"There is no strategic advantage in rushing."
The water barely moved as he shifted, placing both arms on your side to rest his chin. You lightly brushed the front of his hair, him leaning easily into your touch.
"Hi." he mutters, gazing up at up at you once you find yourself comfortable. You roll your eyes at him, continuing the previous conversation.
"You sound like you've already drafted every argument for every possible rule."
"I have." he states, moving back to his original position, resting his back comfortably.
"Hm."
Your gaze lingered on him, on the way the spotlight sharpened the lines of his face, turning him into something almost sculptural.
"You weren't this composed the day we met." You mused. A lie.
That finally makes his eyes shift toward you.
Not irritated. Just evaluating.
"You attacked me first."
"You were about to kill someone." You argued back.
"He was going to attack you."
"I had it handled."
"You were losing."
You exhaled softly, almost amused. "You objected before I could do anything."
That was all that needed to be said.
The memory lingered between you without further elaboration.
The collapsing street, the instant expansion of his domain, the courtroom forming around you in cold precision. You hadn't panicked, nor had you fled. You just observed.
And he had noticed.
"You adapted faster than most players," he said after a moment, gaze drifting back toward the light. "You didn't panic. That is good if you want to survive."
"No offense, but...you're the rookie here. A rookie who got incredibly lucky."
"Lucky? How so?"
"You have a cursed technique. You didn't even know what you had been using was called a 'Domain Expansion'. You've been in the world of sorcerers for less than 2 weeks, and you already have more potential to survive than I do."
Silence falls over the two of you, before Higuruma finally responds.
"Is it unfair?" He asks, chin resting on his knuckles, water slowly dripping.
"It...isn't. Just feels unfair. I would kill to have a domain. Having a domain or a cursed technique means you're automatically strong. I want to be strong, instead of relying on tactics that are rather...underhanded."
"Hmmm. Was trying to seduce me part of said...tactic?" He remarked with a snide smirk.
"Seduce is a rather harsh way to put it-" Higuruma laughs, interrupting you.
"Forgive me, dear. I suppose it is an unpleasant word. Let's say, befriend."
He waves his hand to emphasize the word 'befriend'. 'Friend' would be a wrong term altogether.
You chew your lip.
"Maybe."
"Ahh."
"I am just trying to survive."
"Survival is good. It is good. And it's not a bother. You do just stand there and watch."
You scoff at his words.
"I help you fight too, don't forget."
"That too...but mainly you observe me."
"Observe you? Doing what?" you asked quietly.
"Judge."
The word settled heavily in the theater's hollow silence. And with the very silence, the argument was settled too.
"They added a new rule. Someone's going to come looking for you," you said.
"I know."
"And if they ask you to use those one hundred points?"
"I will refuse."
"And if...I ask?"
The spotlight hummed faintly overhead, your words hanging in the air suffocating you with every second.
He did not answer your question directly.
Instead, he said, "You're still here."
You sigh at his blatant refusal.
"For now." You emphasized.
"...Because I am useful?"
"Because you're efficient," you corrected.
There was the faintest shift in his expression; it didn't feel like warmth, rather it was acknowledgment. Mutual understanding formed not through affection, but alliance.
"I will be leaving. I doubt that my friend will come looking for me here."
Your only plan was to reunite with Yuta.
Because if you were honest with yourself, you were terrified of fighting Higuruma.
Despite sharing a few conversations and quiet nights in the theatre, forming a relationship that was rather controversial had created something complicated between the two of you.
But whatever that was, it didn’t change the truth.
Higuruma was still the man who passed judgement without hesitation.
And you knew better than to think you would be the exception.
Higuruma gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment, the sound low and thoughtful, before tipping his head back again.
The harsh beam of the spotlight caught along the sharp line of his jaw as he settled deeper against the rim of the tub, eyes drifting upward as though the light itself were something worth studying.
Immediately, you stepped forward, the stage creaking softly beneath your weight. The light brushed against your shoulder as you leaned down, close enough to feel a certain warmth settle between you.
For a moment, you hesitated.
Then you pressed a brief kiss to his cheek.
“Bye,” you murmured.
Higuruma didn’t speak. But his gaze shifted from the spotlight to you, lingering just a fraction longer than it had before, as if he were quietly committing the moment to memory, or perhaps wishing it had lasted a little longer.
You could only hope.
Just as you moved to leave, the heavy theater doors creaked open.
The sound echoed through the empty rows of seats like the beginning of an act.
Hearing someone approach, you turned first.
Higuruma did not move from the tub. He simply lowered his gaze from the light and directed it toward the entrance.
Yuji stood in the doorway.
a/n: my bias for higuruma is so bad, it's not even funny anymore. i love this man.
⋆˚🌴🌺🌊⋮ Husband Nanami loves his older wife more than anything else in this world! Especially when she acts like a bitch <𝟑 .ᐟ
⋆ 𖤓 ⋆˚ content & warnings: ꒰ MDNI 18+ :: age gap :: Nanami is 27 :: reader is 37 :: fem reader :: super bossy and dominant reader :: Nanami is down bad :: summer vibes :: set in Malaysia :: cowgirl :: doggy :: breeding :: belly bulges :: 3.5k words ꒱ ⋮⋮ requested
Ocean breeze smooched his cheeks softly, while the first peek of sunshine slipped through the open window. The long rays cast a warm halo over your lovely face, still buried deep in the pillow's plush.
A sudden, sweet cry reached his ears, and so Kento knew that your daughter had just woken up.
Your forehead furrowed as a soft sigh slipped past your lips, yet you knew there was no need to wake up so early, especially on a Saturday morning, as your husband was already rolling himself out of bed. But not before leaving a kiss on your temple and pushing away the loose strands of hair that tickled your forehead.
A peaceful smooch, soft and gentle, letting the lovely, angelic features finally come into view and grace your husband's eyes. Without the irritated wrinkle battling between your eyebrows, without a tsk slipping past your plush lips.
In a moment like this, Nanami always thought of the first time you had met. Of that chaotic, messy evening, full of irresponsibility and haste, when he pledged his devotion to you for the first time. After only a few glasses of wine and a few hours of knowing you.
But it was enough. Of course it was, because back then he knew he would never, ever meet a woman like you again. And if he didn't convince you to marry him, then damn him! He would kick himself for the rest of his days.
That day was warm, as always. The evening before, he landed in Malaysia and stayed here, in a luxurious hotel, for the next week. Nothing but him, drinks, quiet and peace.
The first time he saw you was at the beach, beneath the warm sun, basking in your bikini-clad body, with gentle rays dripping like sizzling waves down your skin. Your hair lifted and clipped, sunglasses high on your nose and a magazine in your hands, as you flipped through it with little to no interest.
Oh, you looked so beautiful. And older. Much, much older, surely, and twenty-seven-year-old Nanami felt a sort of uncertainty, a foolish desire to approach a woman of your sort.
Going out with younger women was easy. Of course it was, as he was utterly handsome and tall, with a wide, muscular back filling out his shirts and a body that smelt strongly of a mixed cologne. It was easy to find someone for a night, to have fun and let the work stress go away, with one woman or another.
But this time, as he looked around at all the empty chairs on the beach, trying to find a quiet place to sit with a drink and a book, his eyes immediately fell on you.
And by pure accident, there was indeed a free chair right next to you.
So he decided to risk it all. Let the nervousness leave his body together with a cough, muscular arms tense just in case, his classic, handsome smile tugging at his lips.
"Is this chair free?" he asked, at his most polite, expecting to hear a lovely, almost motherly voice from your glossed lips.
But, oh well, how surprised he was when your head shot at him, fingers pushing the sunglasses up, and the most beautiful, definitely the most frightening, eyes looked at him with a furrow.
"What do you want?" you snapped, your voice dripping with disinterest and clear dissatisfaction. "What's wrong with the other chairs?"
His breath trembled, fingers clenching around the book he held. "N-nothing," fucking hell, and now he was stuttering. He cleared his throat, thankful for the sunglasses that hid his eyes. "Nothing, sweetheart. I just thought you might like some company."
He never felt a gaze heavier than yours. Not from other managers at his company, not even from the CEO himself. The aura you projected made him stand to attention in an almost military way. As if each word of yours held a mysterious, unfathomable power that immediately straightened his back.
A man almost two metres tall, with a broad back like a mountain, stood nervously in front of the loveliest yet dominant woman who probably ever walked this earth.
You hummed, taking your bag from the second chair and turning back to the magazine. "Sit down, then. Let's see what your company's worth."
He fell almost immediately, as if your gaze alone pinned him to the warm chair. The umbrella over your heads was wide enough to shelter both of you, protecting your skin from the Malaysian sun's sizzling burns.
The ocean waves rolled quietly, children's laughter carried through the air, and salt and wetness clung to his naked chest. Yet he couldn't focus on anything but the way your fruity, refreshing perfume wrapped around his nostrils with a tickling sensation.
"So, you're also on summer holiday?" What a stupid fucking question. It was the middle of July, of course you were on holiday.
"Mhm," you hummed, eyes not leaving the magazine.
"Alone?"
Great, and now he was acting like a creep.
"Alone," you murmured, uninterested in keeping the conversation going. Yet, to his surprise, your head turned his way, eyes lingering a moment longer on the muscular chest and the light, happy trail leading down below his trunks. "Why? Are you trying to feel me out?"
He bit the inside of his cheek, and you giggled sweetly, seeing how quickly you caught on to his nasty intentions.
"Don't worry. You're not the first one today," you said, before taking a melting drink that had been waiting on the small table between your chairs and sipping a bit of a fruity cocktail. "The youngest one? Probably."
He knew you were older. It was clear in the way your eyes watched him carefully, like a viper, with a mature, wicked gaze that warmed the pads of his fingertips. There was something sensual in the way you talked, moved, and wriggled in the chair, with your plush body relaxed and soft, as if waiting for him to bite it with devotion.
"How old are you, then?"
Your eyes shone, lips bit down on the plastic straw. "Guess."
He chuckled. Chestnut eyes ogling your face, as if trying to capture each plushness, each curve that could give him even a slight hint. His blonde hair caught the rays of sunshine spilling through the thatched wooden umbrella.
"Thirty?"
You tsked. "Don't sugarcoat me."
But Nanami wasn't doing it. You truly looked young. And beautiful and smart. Even then, as he tried to appreciate your wit, his eyes could barely keep from drifting down to land on your suncream-coated breasts. He looked at them – quickly, shyly – before looking back into your squinted, amused gaze.
"You can look at them," you said, turning to your side on the chair. This way, your breasts pressed against each other, almost spilling out of the tight swimsuit.
His breath whistled with each puff, cheeks blushed with rosiness. "I'm sorry. That was rude."
But you only shook your head, taking another sip of the cocktail. "Hm, you're just a man, after all. And I know you approached me with filthy thoughts."
There was something wicked behind your eyes. Behind a smile that, although lovely and sweet, curled on your lips with almost devilish intent. Something looped in your mind. And he could see it, in the way you suddenly sat straight and tilted your head.
"I think we can make it work," you hummed, eyes shamelessly drifting up and down his body. Beefy thighs, a bulge in his trunks, big hands and full biceps. "Are you healthy?"
His sandy brows arched, yet he still nodded.
"Any chronic diseases?"
"Uh, no."
"Syphilis?"
His head shook.
"HIV?"
He almost choked on his own saliva. "No, I test myself regularly."
You nodded, clearly satisfied. "Mental illnesses?"
Nanami thought that his only mental illness, by far, was how balmy and horny he felt beneath your dictatorial tone. "Not that I'm aware of."
Your lips curled into a smile, gaze mellowed, as you grabbed your magazine and unfinished drink. As you stood, you let his gaze take in the fullness of your body in a split second. You watched him, amused, as a blush crept up his thick neck and into his chestnut eyes, mingling with desire. Almost like a kid who looked eagerly at the sweetness that seemed to be out of his reach.
"Good. See you at six p.m. in the lobby's main restaurant, then."
And so you walked away, leaving him speechless and bewitched, his eyes fixed on your slowly disappearing figure. At the wave of your hips and hair kissing your neck, as you didn't look over your shoulder even once.
He groaned, covering his face with an arm. Gaze dropped to bulging trunks – a wet, sticky stain clearly visible on their blue material.
That fateful evening would stay in his mind for a long, long time. It was the best, the most humiliating, yet the most passionate night of his life. He would return to it months later, cheeks burning and cock straining his briefs tight.
He met you at six p.m. sharp, dressed in a bluish shirt and elegant brown trousers. Smelling of heavy cologne, blonde hair neatly slicked back, an expensive watch on his wrist.
The hotel was one of the most luxurious in Malaysia, and so were its restaurants, dripping with lavishness. Yet it wasn't the dark, silver, quiet sort of restaurant. No, its luxury was in the view of the setting sun stretching right in front of the tables, painting the sky pink, blue, and yellow, casting a warm glow on your lovely face. The sea hummed longingly, and fire burned in the torches that led him deeper into the restaurant. The wooden, thatched ceiling bent over small tables, held up on columns wrapped with lush vines.
The waiter led him straight to one of the white tables, with a single candle in the middle and a tall palm looming over it, its fronds making gentle swooshes.
"Apologies for being late," he said, drawing your attention.
You sat, watching the slowly setting sun, before turning your head towards him.
"You're not late," you smiled, looking at your watch. "It's six p.m."
He joined you at the table, his heavy, musky cologne immediately wrapping around your senses. Warm, cozy, carrying a woody, snug fragrance.
"It would be more gentlemanly to arrive before you." He chuckled, admiring the woman seated directly in front of him. "You look stunning."
Because you did. Dressed in a long black dress that clung to your body in all the right places. Hair falling loosely along your cheeks, neck draped in a gold necklace. The warm flame of a candle bathed your face in glory as you tilted your head and let a sweet hum slip past your lips.
"You don't look bad either, Mr, who still hasn't told me his name."
Oh dearest.
Nanami sighed, head falling between his shoulders.
Of course, he started to hit on you before even exchanging the most basic pleasantries.
You giggled at his embarrassed face. Ears slightly warm, cheeks flushed rose as he crossed his muscular arms over his chest.
"Forgive me, sweetheart. It seems your presence makes me lose my mind." Something in your eyes flashed, and he caught it immediately. "I'm Kento."
Your name reached his ears in reverse, while the waiter brought two glasses and a bottle of wine to your table.
"Hm, pretty," he smiled, not even trying to stop his gaze from drifting between the heavily cut neckline. Another move of yours, and the nipples would spill past the black material any second now.
"The name or my tits?" You took a sip of red wine, lips curling cheekily.
The wit and confidence of your persona seemed to slowly influence him, and so a low "Both" hit your heated cheeks. "Is that a proper answer, madam?"
You giggled, the sweetness of your laughter sending warmth down his spine. Straight to slightly tight trousers as he shifted in the chair.
"I'm not old enough to be called madam," his arched brow pushed you to hum, and so you finally admitted, "I'm thirty-seven."
Ten years older than him.
"So how old are you, sweetheart?" you asked, gaze squinted.
Nanami bit the inside of his cheek, arms still crossed over his broad chest. Your gaze dropped to his creamy buttons, dangerously close to popping right into your face.
"How low do you usually go?" He asked.
"No lower than thirty."
Fuck.
"Then I can be thirty," yet when your arms crossed over your chest and eyes stared at him intently, he sighed. "I'm twenty-seven."
It was only a three-year difference. No more. Although Nanami didn't feel fully worthy of your glorious attention, he needed it. Fuck, he needed it desperately, and a sensation in his mind told him he was ready to crawl on his knees if it meant gaining your acceptance.
It seemed, however, that there would be no need to do it.
Because a minute later, he felt something slip up his leg. Warm, soft, brushing his calf, knee and thigh. Only after a second did he feel your foot pressing against his cock, straining his trousers.
He trembled, taking a deep breath with a whistle.
Burning pleasure spilt over his loins, heart pounding madly, upon seeing your witchy, devilish smile and eyes shining with wickedness.
"I ordered for us, but are you truly hungry?" Your voice rolled low.
Oh, he was. Starving.
"What's on the menu?" The words barely escaped his throat, mixing with a faint groan as your feet pressed harder against his cock.
Your head tilted sideways, lips pushed lovingly. "Only the sweetest stuff."
It sounded like a promise. Like something offered to foolish men like him, who were easily trapped within the wicked embrace of your warm arms.
Nanami doesn't quite remember how everything turned next.
He wished to pay for the uneaten yet ordered dinner and the surely expensive wine, yet you simply said it had been paid. You paid, and he never, ever felt more humiliated in his entire life. Yet it seemed you didn't mind, truly. You simply overlooked the five-numbered bill as if your card could handle it just like that.
Thus, Nanami promised himself to give you the best orgasm you'd ever experience. The one that would make your thighs shake, and head loll back, irises heart-shaped while he would fold you in half on his bed.
Yet a few minutes later, he somehow found himself in a rather different position.
Naked, head propped on the pillow, eyes darting between your breasts shaking right in front of his eyes and drenched pussy swallowing his cock full. You leaned back on his thighs, legs parted wide, head fallen back, as you bounced on his fat, girthy cock.
Plush walls of your wet pussy wrapping him tight, taking every inch, every vein, till your hips met his fat balls with squelching smacks. The nasty, lovely moans slipping past your throat, as you fucked yourself on his cock senselessly, trembling beneath his thumb rolling your clit.
He was in awe. Fuck, he was fully, madly, completely bewitched by the sight stretching right in front of his eyes. Your breasts bouncing softly, belly squeezing around the shape of his cock, bulging right through the skin, pussy leaking, weeping, yet swallowing him fully.
Not many women could take him whole.
But you did. Of course you did, with this wicked smile dancing on your lips and brows drawn in a lovely, blissful furrow.
"Fuck, Kento, you're so fucking big," a moan escaped your lolled head, eyes slightly lidded. "Filling me so good, oh god. I can feel you–mhmm–in my womb."
Your hand touched the softness of your lower belly, bulging with his fatness.
It felt too much. It was too much to hold a sight of you bent in such a slutty position, with an arching back and hips rolling against his, with wetness and sticky juices smeared all over his pubes. Your cunt leaked sweetness, clit swelled beneath his fingers, and ass fit perfectly in his palm, as he helped your bounce faster.
"Look at you," he almost chuckled, trying to muffle the cry that threatened to slip past his lips. "My pretty girl, aren't you a sight–ahhh"
You hummed, leaning yourself farther on his thighs, to give him an even better view of your slick cunt swallowing his cock. "Fuck, I need you to cum inside me. Breed me full till I'll be–nghhh–leaking with your cum. Kento, ahh, I need you to get me pregnant."
You were serious. And he was fucked.
Because he truly wished for nothing more than to make you a mommy, fuck sideways and stuff this plush pussy with his massive cock until you're crying and whining over his body.
His fingers played with your clit a bit harsher, rolling, pinching, massaging it in circles, till your feet curled.
You were close – he knew it because he hit your swollen womb each time your walls clenched around his full shaft, until his leaking head nestled warmly into the soft, plush muscle deep inside you. He heard the splashes deep in your lower belly, saw your lips parted wide, eyes rolling back as you moaned his name with a high-pitched voice.
Your fingers dug deep into his thighs and hips smacked against his, as you suddenly gushed all over his chest. And chin, face, squirting with crystal droplets that drenched his upper body fully, as he filled you with fresh, heavy cum. Filling your womb to the brim, till a few droplets squeezed past his fat cock, filling your plump pussy and landing on his pubes.
"Again," you panted, falling to press yourself against him. Your lips caught his in a long, hungry kiss. "You need to fuck me again. Actually, fuck me every day till you leave. I want to have a baby."
Your eyes shone with tears, fully possessed by the maddening pleasure. And Nanami? He looked no better. Blonde hair messy, lips swollen from your hungry kisses, arms wrapping around your waist.
"So you want me to be your–"
"No," you interrupted quickly. "I want you to give me a child, and then you can leave. Live your life. I don't need a man in mine; I just want a baby."
He suddenly flipped you over. Your chest pressed to the mattress, hips lifted high, as he pushed his leaking cum back into your fluttering cunt.
"I can provide for you. I can stay. I don't know what your job is, but–"
"I'm the CEO of this hotel."
He stilled. Fingers digging deep into your cunt, another hand grabbing your ass.
Fuck, he was hard again.
Your head turned back, eyes squinted, lips curled into their wicked smile. "I'm the boss lady. So you don't have to worry about the providing thing. I can do it."
He leaned over, lips pressing to your sweating spine, head of his cock already catching on your puckered hole. "No, let me stay. Fuck, please let me stay."
He thrusted shallowly, slowly, pulling a soft moan from your tightened throat. "Wh–ahhh."
"Because," he muttered, biting gently at your shoulder. A massive, heavy body lay against yours until you felt the sweet, painful heaviness of his warmth. "You're so fucking sexy when you act like a dictator. And I may be into milfs."
Your giggles mingled with another cry, hips trying to roll back just to feel the rest of his cock push deep into the sticky wetness of your pussy.
"I'm n-not a milf–"
"Not yet," he chuckled, thrusting painfully slowly. Knowing how much you needed him to enter you in a single, quick push, he denied you with satisfaction. "Make me your president. Vice-president, manager, fuck. Just let me stay."
You liked when he begged. You liked seeing this massive man trembling and whining while being deep within your cunt, as you clenched around him a few times, only to push another lovely groan from his throat.
You didn't plan on marrying, again, but… the thought of keeping him for longer sounded rather nice.
So you nodded, with a "Shut up now and fuck me," getting a low, satisfied hum from his lips.
Nanami kissed you sweetly, long before finally stuffing your needy pussy to the brim.
And so, a year later, he suddenly remembered your first meeting, when the warm rays of the sun spilt on your face, and your forehead rested in peace.
His thumb pressed to the soft skin between your brows, rolling soft circles.
"What are you doing?" You mumbled, pushing his hand away. "Go feed her."
You were always grumpy in the morning. Yet he still, nevertheless, noticed a lovely smile tugging at your lips.
And so he kisses you once again, longingly, hungrily, before leaving the bedroom to take care of your dearest daughter.
Bratty bimbo!reader hated hakari but one day her opinion changed.
18+ minors dni
You’d been with Kirara for almost a year before Hakari ever showed up, and those first months were pure, filthy heaven.
Kirara had always been your perfect match—tall, pretty, with that sharp jawline softened by long black hair she kept tied back in a loose ponytail, glossed lips, and the kind of body that made your mouth water. She was trans, he-to-she, hormones giving her soft tits and a round ass while keeping that thick, heavy cock you’d fallen in love with the very first time she’d let you ride it. You were her bimbo princess: big tits spilling out of every tight top, wide hips and a fat ass that jiggled when you walked, glossy lips always popped, lashes long enough to cast shadows, and an attitude that screamed “brat.” Kirara loved it. She loved bending you over the kitchen counter after you’d been mouthing off all day, hiking up your mini-skirt and sliding that fat dick into your dripping pussy while you whined and called her “mommy.” She loved making you choke on her while she played with your braids, telling you how good her pretty little slut took it. The sex was constant, nasty, and perfect. You never got tired of her stretching you open, filling you up until cum leaked down your thick thighs.
Then Hakari happened.
He was Kirara’s best friend—loud, cocky, always grinning like the world was his personal casino. One night they got drunk, one thing led to another, and suddenly Kirara was asking if you’d be open to letting him join. You said yes because you loved Kirara and you were greedy, but the second Hakari stepped into your shared apartment with that smug smirk and those sharp eyes raking over your body like he already owned it, you hated him. Hated the way he called you “princess” in that lazy drawl. Hated how he lounged on your couch like he paid rent. Hated how his presence made Kirara’s eyes light up in a way that felt like competition.
The first time they tried to include him in bed, you made it crystal clear where you stood.
Kirara had you on your back, legs spread wide, her cock buried deep while she fucked you slow and sweet, whispering how pretty you looked all stretched around her. Hakari was kneeling beside you, stroking his own massive dick—thick, veiny, easily an inch longer and fatter than Kirara’s, the head already glistening. He reached out to squeeze one of your heavy tits, thumb brushing your nipple.
You slapped his hand away hard. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me.”
Kirara paused, blinking. “Baby…”
“I said don’t touch me,” you snapped, glaring up at Hakari even as your pussy clenched greedily around Kirara. “This is for me and her. You can watch if you want, but keep your hands to yourself, gambler boy.”
Hakari’s grin only widened, dangerous. “Feisty. I like that.”
You turned your face away and tugged Kirara down by her hair, kissing her deep while she started thrusting again. Hakari stayed on the sidelines that night, stroking himself while you came twice on Kirara’s dick. He came on your tits only because Kirara asked you to let him, and you rolled your eyes the whole time, wiping it off like it was nothing.
It became a pattern. Every time the three of you ended up in bed, you were a fucking menace. You’d sit on Kirara’s face, grinding your wet pussy on her tongue while Hakari tried to slide his cock between your lips. You’d turn your head. You’d crawl onto Kirara’s lap and ride her reverse cowgirl so your ass bounced right in front of him but never close enough for him to touch. You’d moan extra loud for Kirara, calling her “mommy” and “my good girl” just to twist the knife. Hakari would laugh, low and dark, telling you he’d have you begging one day. You’d flip him off and cum on Kirara’s dick instead.
You never sat next to him on the couch. You’d squeeze between him and Kirara if you had to, but you always pressed your thick thigh against Kirara’s, never his. When they kissed, you’d kiss Kirara harder, like you were marking territory. You were the biggest brat in the world, and you wore it like a crown.
Until the day Kirara left you alone with him.
It was a Saturday afternoon. Kirara had a quick errand—something about picking up a new wig and some lingerie she wanted to surprise you with. She kissed you deep at the door, hand squeezing your ass under your tiny silk robe.
“Be good while I’m gone, baby,” she murmured against your glossy lips. “Hakari’s just gonna chill on the couch. Don’t kill him.”
You smirked, popping your gum. “No promises.”
The door clicked shut.
Hakari was already sprawled on the couch in gray sweats and a black tank, scrolling on his phone, legs spread wide like he owned the place. You ignored him completely, strutting into the kitchen in your tiny robe that barely covered your fat ass, heels clicking. You bent over to grab a soda from the fridge, knowing the robe rode up and showed the lacy black thong underneath, but you didn’t care—he could look all he wanted. He wasn’t getting shit.
You felt his eyes on you the whole time.
When you straightened up and turned around, he was staring, phone forgotten. That cocky smirk was gone, replaced by something darker, hungrier.
“You done playing games, princess?” he asked, voice low.
You popped your gum louder. “I don’t play with you at all, Hakari. Stay on your side of the couch.”
He stood up slowly. God, he was tall—broad shoulders, tattoos peeking from under the tank, that dangerous grin creeping back. “Kirara’s been gone ten minutes and you’re already testing me. You’ve been testing me for months.”
You rolled your eyes and tried to walk past him toward the living room. His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your thick waist, yanking you back against his chest. Your soda clattered to the floor.
“Get the fuck off me—”
“Shut up,” he growled, mouth right against your ear. His other hand slid down, palming your ass hard, squeezing the soft flesh until you gasped. “I’ve watched you bounce on her dick for months. Watched you cream all over her while you glare at me like I’m nothing. I’m done being patient.”
You tried to shove him, but he was solid muscle. He spun you around and backed you up until your thighs hit the arm of the couch. Your robe fell open, heavy tits spilling out, dark nipples already hard from the cool air and—fuck—his voice.
“You hate me so much?” he taunted, pushing you down so you sat on the wide armrest, legs forced apart. He stepped between them, grinding the massive bulge in his sweats right against your thong-covered pussy. “Then why are you already wet, huh?”
“I’m not—” you started, but he yanked the thong to the side and dragged two thick fingers through your folds. You were soaked. Embarrassingly, shamefully soaked.
Hakari laughed, low and mean. “Liar.”
He shoved his sweats down in one motion. His cock sprang out—fuck, it was huge. Thick as your wrist, long, heavy, the head flushed dark and already leaking. Veins ran up the shaft, pulsing. It was bigger than Kirara’s by a noticeable amount, and the sight made your bratty mouth go dry even as your pussy clenched hard.
“Bet you thought you could keep ignoring this,” he said, stroking himself once, twice, smearing precum over the fat head. “Bet you thought you’d never have to take it.”
You opened your mouth to snap something back—something nasty, something bratty—but he grabbed your braids in one fist, yanked your head back, and shoved the head of his cock past your glossy lips in one smooth thrust.
Your eyes watered instantly. He was so thick your jaw ached, stretching your pretty mouth wide. He didn’t give you time to adjust—just started fucking your throat in shallow, filthy thrusts, groaning at how hot and wet your mouth was.
“Fuck, that’s it. Choke on it, brat. All that attitude and you still suck cock like a pro.”
Tears smeared your mascara, but you couldn’t stop your tongue from swirling around him, sucking harder. He tasted salty and masculine and wrong in the best way. You hated how much you loved it.
He pulled out suddenly, strings of spit connecting your lips to his cock. You gasped for air, glaring up at him even as your thighs rubbed together.
“On the couch,” he ordered. “Ass up.”
You didn’t move fast enough. He flipped you over the armrest like you weighed nothing, your chubby body draped over the back of the couch, fat ass high in the air, tits squished against the cushions. He ripped your robe the rest of the way off and yanked your thong down your thick thighs.
“Look at this pretty black pussy,” he muttered, spreading your ass cheeks wide with both hands. “All puffy and dripping for me. Kirara’s been spoiling you, huh?”
He slapped your ass hard—once, twice, watching the jiggle—then lined up and pushed in.
You screamed.
It burned in the best way. He was so much thicker, stretching you open wider than you’d ever been. Inch after inch sank into your tight, wet heat until his hips were flush against your ass and his heavy balls rested against your clit. You were stuffed full, pussy fluttering wildly around the invasion.
“F-fuck—too big—” you whimpered, bratty tone cracking.
Hakari laughed darkly and pulled back only to slam in again, harder. “You can take it. You’re gonna take every fucking inch until you forget how to talk shit.”
He set a brutal pace, hips snapping, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the apartment. Your ass rippled with every thrust, tits bouncing against the couch. You tried to stay quiet, tried to keep some dignity, but he was hitting spots Kirara never could, grinding against your g-spot on every stroke.
“Say it,” he growled, reaching around to rub your swollen clit. “Say my dick’s better.”
“N-no—”
He pinched your clit and slammed in deep, holding himself there, grinding. You came instantly, pussy gushing around him, a broken sob tearing from your throat.
“Say it,” he repeated, still buried to the hilt.
Your voice was wrecked. “Y-your dick… fuck… it’s so much bigger… feels so good—”
He rewarded you by fucking you even harder, pounding you into the couch until your legs shook. You came again, squirting messily down your thighs, mascara running, lip gloss smeared, braids a mess in his fist.
“Gonna fill this bratty pussy up,” he snarled. “Gonna pump you so full Kirara’s gonna see my cum leaking out the second she walks in.”
You moaned like a whore, pushing back on him now, all pretense gone. He fucked you through another orgasm, then buried himself deep and came with a guttural groan. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your pussy, so much it immediately started leaking out around his cock, dripping down your thighs in creamy white streaks.
He stayed inside you for a long minute, catching his breath, then finally pulled out with a wet pop. You collapsed fully onto the couch, ass still up, face buried in the cushions, completely fucked out. Cum poured from your stretched hole in slow, obscene globs.
Hakari sat back down on the couch like nothing happened, legs spread, cock still half-hard and shiny with your juices. He smirked, satisfied, and picked up his phone again.
The front door opened ten minutes later.
Kirara stepped in, shopping bags in hand, and froze.
There you were—her pretty Black bimbo, face down on the couch, thick ass up in the air, legs trembling, pussy gaping and leaking Hakari’s cum in a steady stream onto the cushions. Your makeup was ruined, body covered in handprints and bite marks.
Hakari looked up from his phone, that same cocky grin on his face.
“Hey, babe,” he said casually. “Told you I’d get her eventually.”
Kirara’s eyes flicked from you to him, then back to the way your pussy still fluttered, pushing out another thick glob of his cum. A slow, dangerous smile spread across her glossed lips.
“Well… looks like my princess finally learned how to share.”
You didn’t even stir. You were already fast asleep, ass still presented, cum dripping, completely wrecked—and for the first time, you didn’t have a single bratty thing to say about it.
Just making this before I post another part for blind date series
Lmk if I made any mistakes I’m lowkey tired and half asleep
꣑ৎ fighting with satoru leads to him forcing you to ride him
The last thing you wanted to do was get into an argument with your roommate and best friend. Yet you found yourself going back and forth with him & it didn’t look like it was coming to an end any time soon.
“I don’t understand how I’m not allowed to have boys over but you’re free to bring home girls, it’s totally unfair Satoru!” You yelled, voice turning raspy.
It’s been hours since this argument began and he was getting sick of it.
“The difference between us is that I didn’t invite that girl over to fuck, did I?” He shot back, a vein forming at his temple.
His hand reached up to his face, sliding off his glasses to set them aside on the counter. “I came home with her because we had a project to do and the library was closed. And you know this because I texted you earlier about it.”
“So? She was totally giving you bedroom eyes!”
“And what if she was? Doesn’t mean I gave in and started humping her like a dog in heat. I’m not that easy, sweets.”
But you were.
You were not about to give in because he used your favorite pet name, and you definitely weren’t going to allow him to see the effect it had on you.
“I don’t know why me bringing a boy over concerns you either.”
“Watch that tone.” He warned. His eyes have darkened enough to match the late night shadows seeping into the kitchen, rain being muffled by the windows. Your lip trembled, being utterly frustrated. It’s not like you even did anything with the guy, you just wanted to make him jealous – get back at him for inviting that girl over.
Satoru noticed your pout, sighing through his nose as all previous anger faded. “Baby.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?” He closed in, cupping your cheek in his warm hand. “You love it when I use sweet names on you.”
You pulled away from his touch, still pissed. “We’re just roommates, that’s why.” That certainly got him to raise a brow, a slight tilt at his head as he took in your words. “Just roommates? Am I not your best friend? Am I not the one that makes you feel good?”
Your breath hitched, knowing what he was referring to.
You had come home stressed about some class and it didn’t help that it was ovulation week as well, making you all pent up. Thankfully, Satoru didn’t mind helping you out on the very counter he was leaning against. “What was your goal when you brought him over? To make me jealous? Get your pay back?”
Well, yes.
But you were not going to admit that so easily.
“If I hadn’t made it clear enough, sweets, you’re the only girl I want. Why would I be stupid to put my dick inside someone who isn’t you?” His vulgar words strike again at your inner core, forcing your thighs to clench.
“Satoru..” Your cheeks heated up.
“I’m going to ask you again, and you’re going to answer honestly. Are we just roommates?”
Of course not. Roommates don’t just allow the other to ride them like rabbits in heat the way you were doing right now. Your clothes were discarded on the floor, shaky hands rubbing up and down his abs all while he watched.
A smirk was lifting at his lips, enjoying the way you struggled to do all of the work. He wanted to touch your tits, give them the little kisses they deserved. But hearing you beg for his touch was far better.
“Please– I said I was s-sorry..” Your apologies fell upon deaf ears. This was your punishment after all. You could barely register your own pleas as his tip grazed your puffy folds. “You’re going to ride me and I’m not going to help for shit.”
And he kept his word because he hasn’t done anything more than letting out the occasional grunt. It was genuinely pissing you off.
“Please,” You tried again, leaving sloppy but sweet kisses on his lips that he didn't reciprocate. Not even when you picked up your pace or slowed it down did he react.
Nothing was working.
Not until he saw you begin to sob, hiding your pretty face in his neck did he soften up. “Hey, hey.. It’s okay, sweet girl. I forgive you, you did so good, took your punishment like the good girl you are. Don’t cry, you’re making me feel bad.” His expression softened, large hand rubbing the small of your back as he coo’ed in your ear at your hiccups.
You sniffled, chasing your nearing orgasm now that he praised you. “Am gonna cum..” You gasped, clawing at his back. Satoru fully wrapped his arms around you, bouncing you harshly on his lap. “Go ahead.”
White dots filled your sight when you spilled on his dick, legs trembling. He followed soon after, releasing deep in you. “Good job, baby. Don’t you ever think that shit again. I don’t want anyone but you, and it’s time to realize that.”
You nodded, placing your lips on his, finally receiving the kiss you needed.
ᥫ᭡ — philosophy!major!eren eats baddie!reader out for her birthday | black!reader, fluff + smut. 1k words. a/n : soft launching my philosophy major eren multi chap fic... let me cook...
When JT said every time she enters a room, self-esteem drops, she wasn't joking. That's the effect you have on people too.
In your vintage Buffalo London platform boots, you walked confidently to the table where your friends were seated in the club. Your floral, vanilla scent followed you like a cloud, turning heads as you passed by. It was your birthday, so you'd dressed up. Your mini skirt, your beret, and your skunk stripe wig—everything was in keeping with the 2000s Bratz theme you wanted to embody.
"Hey, birthday girl," Connie smiled at you as he slipped a "birthday princess" sash onto you.
"Oh my god, you did 3D flowers on your nails again, it's so pretty," Sasha exclaimed, taking your hands to examine your freshly manicured XL nails more closely.
“You can put all the artificial things you want on your body, it won’t change your impending death. Technically, we’re not living beings, we’re dying beings.”
Your eyes, which had been lowered to observe Sasha’s enthusiasm, lifted to meet the emerald gaze of the most annoying and sexy man on the planet.
“Hey, Eren,” you greeted him, sitting down next to him.
“That’s what Cioran said in On The Heights of Despair. It was his first book, in 1934. You should read it.”
“I’m not reading your negative bullshit, Eren.”
“He suffered from severe insomnia that made him walk the streets all night,” Eren ignored you, crossed his arms over his chest, and sank back into his seat. His eyes shone, as they always did when he talked about philosophy. “He realized, deeply and not superficially like you and we do, that we were truly going to die at any moment, and that our whole life was a way to distract ourselves from our doomed end. To be born into a meaningless world, to die meaninglessly, to be forgotten meaninglessly.”
“What a ray of sunshine,” you rolled your eyes, casually looking at your nails. You hoped he wouldn't notice how your thighs tightened when he heard his deep voice up close. “I hope you didn't get me this for my birthday.”
“Hell nah,” he let out a low chuckle, “you're too pretty to be depressed. I bought this. You reposted something like this on TikTok many times.”
All the joy in the world could be found in your eyes when Eren gave you a Blythe doll that looked exactly like you in your natural state. Same brown skin, same eyes, same hair, same usual sexy style of dress. A Blythe doll cost over $200 to be customized to someone's wishes. It was so thoughtful, and exactly what you wanted as someone who collected dolls.
You pulled Eren close despite his grumbling and covered his cheeks with lip gloss-covered kisses.
“Now, you need to eat me out. I don’t give a fuck about dolls anymore.”
His lips curved into a teasing smile. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah, it’s my birthday,” you insisted, kissing his cheek again.
You and Eren had been flirting for months but had never taken things further. This was it.
───────
“When you really think about it…” Eren said gruffly, “What differentiates us from humans isn’t language, as Socrates would say, but our consciousness. Not consciousness in the metaphorical or biological sense, but in the existential sense. It’s our doomed capacity to question the meaning of our existence that differentiates us from animals. Albert Camus said that it’s in front of the world’s silence, when we question ourselves, that the absurd is born, which he theorized in his three major works. And…”
“E-Eren!” you whined. “Focus on this damn pussy:”
A mocking sneer escaped his lips. “My fingers are deep in it, baby.”
Sitting in the back seat of his car, your legs were spread wide, supported by your hands under the inside of your knees. You had kept your crop top on, which accentuated your chest; he had removed your skirt and thong. Soft moans slipped from you every time Eren’s fingers touched that spongy spot inside you.
“What do you plan to do about the weight of the meaninglessness of our existence?” He plunged them in and out, his lips parted, looking at you with dilated pupils.
“I think you should eat this and you’ll find meaning in your life,” you mumbled and grabbed his hair to push his head into your tight heat.
His mouth watered, ready to get messy.
“Hell yeah,” he groaned, his breath hot and warm over your center. He dragged a languid swipe of his tongue over you, collecting your arousal. Your legs trembled, you closed your arms around his cheeks. He raised his feverish green eyes to you, a loving glint in them, as if silently saying, “that’s all I want.” When his tongue lapped through your folds, his hands gripped your hips to grind your cunt into his mouth.
You tugged on his brown hair, running your fingers through his soft locks.
As he watched you intently as he ate you out, you wanted to put on a show for him.
You pulled off your crop top, your breasts bouncing with the movement. Eren moaned against you, gripping your hips tighter. He drove his tongue deeper, exploring every inch of you, eager to please you, eager to hear your moans louder. You kneaded your breasts and pinched your pierced nipples in front of him, the fire between your legs growing, your breath quickening.
He swiped his tongue up and up your slick folds until he reached your clit, brushed it before wrapping his lips around it, sucking greedily, causing you to gasp.
“Stop, Eren, I’m so sensitive from your fingers…”
“I almost forgot I could do this. Camus is messing with my skills, damn it.” He released your hips and shoved two fingers up your cunt while caressing your throbbing bud in circles. They didn’t have time to make a few back-and-forth movements before your whole body was wracked with spasms and shivers, his name the only sound in the car.
“Nihilists who think nothing has value have never tasted this, I swear.” Eren stood up to kiss you, then pushed his fingers into your mouth. His eyes softened at the sight of your cute expression as you sucked on them. His birthday princess.
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── .✦ apologizing after yelling at your warrior husband sukuna in front of his men (oops) ✧.*
"'kuna."
your husband said nothing. he merely continued to brush his horse down, barely acknowledging your presence behind him. your fingers fidgeted with your sleeve, nervous and guilty.
only an hour ago, you had argued with him openly in front of his men over something trivial. it should've occurred to you that something was wrong when he didn't even say a word in response. he only let you rant as he stood silent, jaw tightening. when you were done, you had just stormed off without giving him a chance to reply.
as your anger subsided, you had started to realize how he must have felt. being a formidable warrior with a fearsome reputation, sukuna never once showed a hint of weakness except with you. he had always been intimidating, terrifying, powerful. and there you were, undermining him with just an indignant lecture and no care at all for who he was with.
sukuna always met your fire with just as much ferocity. deep down, he loved to fight with you because he knew you could take whatever you dished out. the two of you would row it out until it ended in begrudging apologies and laughter while tangling under your sheets.
yet now, he didn't even deign to look at you. it hurt more than you could admit.
"'kuna, please," you pleaded softly, fingers brushing the muscles of his back. "truly i didn't mean to lose my temper, i'm sorry."
without him even turning, you knew the face he was making. eyes shut, teeth grinding, refusing to meet your eyes despite how much he might have wanted to. you didn't back down. a pout pulled your lips as your voice turned exaggeratedly plaintive.
"if i have offended my lord husband in any way, i wish to repent." your arms came around his torso, cheek resting against him. "it wasn't my place to speak to you that way," you murmured, coy, docile, so unlike yourself that sukuna would've laughed any other day. "i'll suffer any punishment you see fit."
still, he didn't move, though his hands almost paused, then tightened on the brush, resuming. you could feel his resolve breaking bit by bit, and you latched on to it.
"yell at me, curse me, scold me, do whatever you'd like to me," you walked around to face him, stood between his horse and his broad chest. you looked up at him through your lashes, then hugged him again as his whole body tensed up, still acting like you weren't there.
"just please, look at me again. i can't bear being apart from you."
after a few moments of tense silence, sukuna cursed under his breath and suddenly moved. strong arms wrapped around you in a crushing embrace, bringing you closer to him, and you hid a triumphant yet relieved smile.
"you provoke me, over and over again," he began, growling. "and the second i turn away from you, you cling like a vine." his fingers grabbed your face and forced it upwards as he glared down at you. "spoiled brat."
"will you forgive me?" you asked, voice muffled as he squished your cheeks. he let out an exasperated huff.
"let's see how i feel once i give you the punishment you so sweetly asked for," he pinched your ear and suppressed a smirk, making you whine. you didn't move away from him, though, content to be right where you were. and you suspected your husband was, too. no matter how mad he got, he was always weak for you in the end.
a/n: tysm for 200 followers !! im in disbelief ✧.*
Firefighter!Sukuna who starts believing in miracles when you slide him your phone number under the guise of prescription, dainty fingers wrapped around his wrist, feeling his pulse before you pulled away, leaving behind a tingling on his skin.
He wouldn't say it out loud but he did sniff his wrist like a dog in the privacy of his own home.
Firefighter!Sukuna who somehow managed to land a date with you, between horrible typos and genuine spelling mistakes you still somehow thought he was worthy of dating.
Firefighter!Sukuna who sits opposite to you in the cafe booth, fingers fidgeting with the napkin beside his plate as you scanned the menu.
"Have you been here before?" You looked up, soft eyes meeting his widened ones, "do you have any recommendations?"
"Water's good." Sukuna blurted out, tip of his ears turning red as he simultaneously registered your question and his own response, "I mean like, it's crispy and hydrating, I don't drink—sorry I haven't been here before."
Firefighter!Sukuna who dreadfully waits for you to realise how much of a loser he is and walk away.
From his jumbled words to clumsy hands nearly dropping a jug full of water in your lap, he was sure you'd block him by the end of the night.
Firefighter!Sukuna who is pleasantly surprised to somehow find himself at you apartment, your fingers tugging his collar as you desperately claimed his mouth, heels digging into the back of his thighs from where he had you pressed against the door.
He squeezed your thighs, pulling away from your lips to scan your apartment, eyes searching for way to your bedroom, afterall he had been here few weeks ago.
"It's the one in far left." You mumbled against his throat, lapping up at his bobbing adams apple, arms tightening around his neck as he stepped into the living space, "wait, take off your clothes."
"Here?" Sukuna looked into your open living room, gently letting go of your body as your feet settled on the ground, watching as you haphazardly tucked at he straps of your sundress, plush tits spilling over the collar as you pushed it down, "You want to have sex here?"
You stop stripping, eyes wide as you turn around to look at the space available, before continuing to shimmy out of your dress, "later, let's get to bedroom first."
Firefighter!Sukuna who feels precum oozing out of his tip at the mere thought of later, he followed your lead, clumsily stripping down to his underwear, eyes locked on the way you casually slid your panties off, strutting your way to the bedroom.
He slowly followed you inside, cheeks red as he took in the way you had decorated your room, warmth blooming in his belly at the thought of being in your space.
"Come, wash your hands." You tilted your head towards the bathroom, wetting your hands before pumping out handwash, expectedly waiting for him to join you.
Confusion painted his features but he still abided by your request, naked and horny and washing his hands.
"You are about to put your hands on and in me, I want them clean."
Oh. Oh.
Firefighter!Sukuna who goes one step ahead, hands curling so he could fill them with water, before splashing it on his face, making sure to rub around his mouth twice.
You watch him in curiosity, eyes sparkling as he wipes his face dry with one of the towels you handed him.
"I wanted to, you know." He gestured vaguely with his hand, when he spotted your raised eyebrow, he elaborated further, "I wanted to eat your pussy too."
Firefighter!Sukuna who is surprised when you, quite literally jumped his bones, face flushed as you pushed him onto the bed, crawling between his legs to smother his face with kisses.
Firefighter!Sukuna who leaned over your body, hand wrapped around his thick cock as you spread your pussy.
He tapped the tip of his cock against your clit, relishing in the way you squirmed, hips weakly rutting upwards, chasing his fleeting touches.
Momentarily, he visualised the water hose, weirdly comparing his cock to it, after all he was about to extinguish the fire in your bell—
He was probably daydreaming for too long, when your voice brought him back to the bedroom.
"Still with me, 'Kuna?" You mumbled, reaching up to cradle his jaw, eyes soft as you pecked the corner of his mouth. "What are you thinking about?"
Firefighter!Sukuna who groaned, eyes screwed shut as tried to find a way to explain to you his analogy without sounding—insane.
And you are looking up at him so—tenderly, eyes soft and worried, brows furrowed, and then his gaze drifts lower, pebbled nipples and love bites littered on your sternum and lower where you pussy waits in anticipation, so wet.
And the his dick—the hose.
"Your pussy, my dic—the fire," he stammered, dread pulling in his stomach as the furrow between your brows deepens, you are trying your best to understand him, "i am stupid." He huffed helplessly, arm bending at the elbows as he leaned down, pressing his chest against yours, cock smushed against your pussy, drawing a gasp from your pretty lips. "Shi—sorry."
"Move 'Kuna," You pushed slightly against his toned belly, reaching between your bodies to surl your fingers around his length, feeling him shudder against your grasp, "don't tease me now." You pouted, aligning his tip with your entrance, smearing his precum messily over your folds.
Firefighter!Sukuna who pushed past his thoughts and focuses on you, the spasming of your walls as his tip pushes past the entrance, the arching of your back as you accomodate to his girth, the way your hand hovers over your clit, not yet touching because he knows you'll cum too fast if you did.
He steadied himself over you, breath fanning on your cheeks as he reached between your bodies with his free hand, gently guiding your hand around his neck, before trailing back down.
Pulling out, he rubbed his thumb across your entrance, gathering slick before guiding his cock back inside, smearing the fluid on your clit, thumb rough and pressured against your tender bud.
"Kuna—" You moaned, trembling in his hold, completely at his mercy as he set a slow rhythm, thick cock dragging deliciously against your wet walls, your nails dig into the skin of his back, huffing out breaths with each thrust.
Firefighter!Sukuna who has you falling apart in his hold, cock red and throbbing with a pulse as you cum around him, thick creamy coating his base, sloppy mess between your bodies.
Firefighter!Sukuna who mutters out, "Whe—where do you want me?" Words muffled against the skin of your shoulder, hips rutting forward as his thumb relentlessly drew shapes on your clit, unbothered by the fact that you already coated him in your creamy slick twice.
You don't answer, you can't—answer, mind devoid of any coherent thought, you could barely focus on anything other then his cock battering your insides and his thumb swapping slick on your bud.
Firefighter!Sukuna who looks down at your ruined appearance, eyes glossy and filled with stars, cheeks red, lips swollen and rosy, he presses one long wet kiss against your plush cheek, pulling out in one go, hand letting go of your waist and wrapping around his length, blurring as he stroked himself, cum splattering on your belly and thighs, some droplets even managing to paint your nipples.
Firefighter!Sukuna who lays flat on his back in your bed, tanned and tattoed skin surrounded by baby pink duvet and teeny tiny plushies, his back supported by what he assumes are, at least 5 small pillow.
His dick, soft and shiny, tucked between his thighs, he turns he head to see you sprawled beside him hands trailing up and down your body, fingers occasionally smearing his coating your belly.
"You want to was—"
"Round two by the ent—"
Both of your stop immediately, widened eyes meeting another set of widened eyes, you stop fiddling with his cream coating your belly, instead you turn towards, ignoring the squelch as remnants of body fluids, leaked out. "I thought firefighters had stamina?"
Firefighter!Sukuna who is dumbfounded by your question, eyes shining with mirth as he took turned towards you, dick bobbing down as blood rushed south again. "Was just being courteous."
He huffed, getting off the bed and dragging you to the edge by your ankle, grinning wide as loud cackles escaped your lips, easily tossing you over his shoulder as he made his way out to the living room.
⡴ toxic!reader manipulating & leading on frat!sukuna who is unfortunately whipped
“are you fucking kidding me?” he yells, nose scrunched up while he stares down at you. he grates his teeth before continuing while his hands thread into his roots distressingly. “what am i doing wrong?” it’s almost weird to hear his usually deep, solemn voice so whiney.
you exasperatedly sigh, rolling your eyes and sticking your hands back into your (really his) coat pocket, ready to leave his room. “oh, here we fucking go.” his deep red eyes squint, closing in on your annoyed face.
“here we fucking go?” he quotes you, dark eyebrows raising on his forehead in disbelief. “don’t try and act like i’m being fucking crazy!” his bulky arm whips out to gesture his point while the other remains in his tussled hair.
“i think you’re overreacting a little about your friend going on a date that hasn’t even happened yet.” your choice of words is intentional. as expected, his chest heaves a couple feet away from you. “you’re being—”
“FRIEND?” he screams in what sounds like horror. your eyebrows lift in almost a mocking way. his shoulder tense even harder before he slaps his calloused hands on his tattooed face and runs them down his skin, pacing back and forth infront of you. “THAT’S what you wanna call us? i-i’ve fucked you, took you out on dates, bought you fucking flowers.” he leans on his wall, covered in his nephew choso’s band posters, facing away from you and hissing through his teeth.
“i’ve told you thank you, ryomen.” his head snaps back to hiss at you, looking over his shoulder as the words fall out your mouth.
“you can’t even call me by my fucking name?” you don’t respond, playing around with the lighter in his coat pocket. “what will it fucking take for you to like me? i’ve dedicated the past six goddamn months on you and now you’re going on a date with gojo?”
“i do like you, sukuna.” his gaze softens for a moment at your words. his bottom lip juts out ever so slightly, if he wasn’t upset right now you’d tease him about the pout. “me and gojo are just going to the movies. me and him have been friends for years.”
he grumbles under his breath, turning to fully face your gaze again. he looks conflicted, now biting at the side of his lip. in full honesty he looks pathetic, his shoulders have now slumped discouragedly yet still looking over you.
“he wants to fuck you.” he grimaces, like it disgusts him to even mention him to you or just you with another man at all. “you wouldn’t care at all if i hung out with yorozu?”
your arms crowds over themselves in front of your chest.
“i know you wouldn’t do that, ‘kuna.” he sighs out at the nickname. “unless you all of a sudden wanna give this up.” you gesture to the two of you.
“fuck.. no.” he shakes his head, pushing back the hair he did all nice for you tonight, exited to see you—atleast before you dropped you’ll be going on a date with his frat brother right after you fucked sukuna. “…why do you do this to me?” his voice cracks halfway through before his neck cranes to the side like he’s trying to hide his face from you.
you step forward, coming closer to him and softly placing your manicured hands—that sukuna insisted on paying for this past time— on his cheek and turning his face to the side. his lips are slightly ajar while his eyes bore into you.
you lean up to be level with his ear, glancing lightly at the botched ear piercing you have him when he moved at the last moment.
“i’m not doing anything, ‘kuna.” you whisper, soft just centimeters away from his skin. his large hand moves quickly to grab at your hip like he’s trying to keep you in his room forever from those words alone. he breathes hot against your neck. “how ‘bout you take me out this saturday? try to convince me you’re better than gojo.”
you’re about to step away now before his whole arm wraps around your waist, and he stares smittenly down at you. he hesitates before he finally opens his mouth to say something.
“block that other guy for me and it’ll be somewhere fancy.” he grumbles, matching your glare.
“i’ll think about it.” you kiss his cheek before he immediately tries to place his palm over where you left the smudge of lip color. “give me a reason to break gojo’s heart and not yours.”
you weave out of his grasp, and walk out of his room.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚Content Warning: riding, mating press, dacryphilia, public sex, bathroom sex, spanking, dirty talk, is it obvi my fav color is Lavender TvT, rough sex, husband Muto!, Brothers Bestfriend South!, Academic Rival Taiju!, squirting, them obviously breaking readers pussy open, marking, titty sucking, mentions of other Tokyo Rev characters, hints of possessiveness.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚WC:4.6K
Big Boy Muto! Who's lying down in bed an arm placed over his eyes. Hoping to ease the headache Shion was giving as he couldn’t follow simple instructions.
Big Boy Muto! Whose although listening to Shion’s loud ass on the other line doesn’t miss the pads of feet making its way over to him.
Big Boy Muto! Who groans when he feels weight sitting on top of him. Specifically, over his crotch.
Big Boy Muto! Who sees his wife of 2 years wearing a lavender nightgown. One of the straps is out of place on her arm. Nipples hard, as you stared at him with lovesick eyes. Biting your lips as you place your hands on your chest.
Big Boy Muto! Who has to move the phone away from him to try to hold back the moan creeping up his throat. When you start to rock your hips. Creating electrifying friction between the two of you.
Big Boy Muto! whose hands find their home on your hips as you begin to rock against his growing boner.
Nothing but whines and your mewls could be heard as your thighs were forced to your breast. And your body is forced up and down. Tears stream down your face, more already building up in your lash line.
Sweat just trickling down Muto’s forehead as he has now been lifting your body up and down his cock. Using you as if you were a pocket pussy. Soon he lay back and bucked his hips to meet his thrust.
You dragged your hips back and forth on the dick. Slowly feeling Muto pierce deeper and deeper with each thrust. You ignore the burning sensation as it is soon replaced with pleasure. "Fuck~" you moaned arching your back off the bed. Your tits started to bounce with both your movements, the pair starting to hypnotize your husband.
Slamming you down to meet his thrust you felt Muto tip punched your cervix. The both of you let out dual moans of pleasure.
"Tight slutty pussy- shit!" Muto felt a shiver run up his spine, your pussy was molding and folding to his command. Lifting your hips grabbing a pillow placing it underneath your hips, Muto began to pound recklessly inside of your now gushing cunt.
The pleasure running through your veins was unbearable as you were slowly turning into a whimpering mess. "Yes! Yes! t-there~" You were stumbling over your words as you tried to direct him to your pleasure spots.
"I know, I know honey" he softly whispered into your ear, feeling pride swirl in his chest feeling your cunt tighten around his cock.
You felt your body sink further into your shared bed as Muto began to pound into you, his tip punching your cervix over and over. Forcing it to slowly open. You felt your jaw drop forming a silent 'o' feeling his reach deeper inside of you.
Shuddering you began to lose feeling in your legs as they fell numb slumping against Muto's broad shoulders. "I- I can't!" you whined as you felt his hips slam with yours. Slowly feeling your pussy turn raw. "Can't what" You felt yourself begin to in and out of consciousness from the intense pleasure.
"Feel my legs!" you cried as your body twitched, "Ahh~ feel so good" you slurred. Muto moved his hands from the back of your thighs to your love handles using them as better leverage to keep you till.
"You won't be feeling a lot more when I'm done with you. Grab my phone and end the call with Shion" You felt your heart stop as you turned your head seeing Muto's phone. Indeed, the call was still going on, but all you heard was wind flowing through the other side.
You supposed that Shion got himself out of that sticky situation he was in. But really, he wasn't in one, to begin with, he was just bored and decided to bug Muto. Now hear he is his phone next to him on speaker fapping off to you getting your pussy wrecked.
Big Boy South! Who purposefully loved to get on your nerves. The way you roll your eyes every time you see him in the same room as you bring a grin to his handsome face. He was flattered that you were always first to notice his presence when he first stepped into your line of vision. I mean it’s not hard, the mother fucker is damn near 7ft tall!?
Big Boy South! Who never takes his eyes off you. It’s very rare when he’s not near you, and if he isn’t he has someone doing the job for him. And when you catch him he brushes it off saying that you must be a fangirl with the way you he stalking him. You always answer with the same response, “What’s there to fan about?”.
Big Boy South! Who goes to the same gym as your elder brother, him being surprisingly one of the only people who can keep up with him in the ring. Even Wakasa and Beneki were astonished. And when he saw you outside the gym in your car with the window rolled down waiting for your dim-witted brother—South couldn’t pass up the opportunity. A beauty like your attention focused on your phone with the soft light bouncing back on your face.
Big Boy South! Who’s never seen someone look so flawless doing something so simple upon first laying eyes on you. When you heard someone walking up to the car you were ready to yell at your brother only to be met with a pair of crazy yellow eyes staring right back at you. You screamed your head off. And dropped your phone between the seats. You ended up needing a new screen protector :(
Big Boy South! Who had a match coming up. It was only a coincidence that your brother had a match at the same arena so you went. Your brother bought you your fan merch of him for you. Which you were fully excited about since it had your family’s main color, purple. But your brother likes more of a dark purple, but since this one was customized it was a pretty pastel lavender. You wore it in the crowd with pride as you cheered for your brother. Until some Jackass from the opposing side spilled nacho cheese on your sweater.
Big Boy South! Who thought he was hallucinating when he heard you cursing someone out among the crowd when he was near the exit door entering the locker rooms watching a bit of your brother's match. His was up next, he was ready to beat some ass as always. Seeing your brother landing the final knockdown he disappeared back to the locker to place on his gloves, cheering in the distance as fans chanted your brother's name.
You were pissed as you dabbed the wet paper towel over the remainder of the cheese. The hot water from the bathroom sink wasn’t exactly helping. You felt tears prick your eyes when you saw the beautiful jersey ruined. You left for the gift shop and unfortunately, there was only one option of clothing left that would pair with your outfit. You were not gonna hear the end of your brother's teasing after this…
Big Boy South! Fed off of the crowd's cheers as the announcer introduced him to the ring. Even the boos hyped him up. The announcer announced his opponent and with that, the match began. South was getting a bit pissed off as his opponents kept landing sneaky boxing moves that were illegal. And the boxing judge was letting it slide. It wasn’t until South caught a little glance between when he tch. He paid the boxing judge to let him off the hook.
Big Boy South! Who glanced at the crowd hearing them to not let the asshole beat him. As he had obvious advantages and privileges—and to use them. His mind was foggy and he couldn’t focus that asshole was throwing him off his game. But oh it wasn’t till he caught sight of you, wearing a cute little crop top that said “I ♡ South”. He saw the flustered look on your face. You were holding another sweater close to you as if you were trying to hide the crop top. But it was too late, South saw it. And seeing you wear something with his name on it riled him up, it was just the motivation he needed.
With that Big Bot South! Landed a hella hard punch to the fuckers nose, the move catching everyone by surprise even you. A crack resonating. Collective ‘oh’s were heard and more cheering as South landed hit after hit not letting his opponent get up (not like he could). Kicking the bastard in the ribs, he fell. The arena was filled with suspense and silence. The boxing judge checked on him, he lifted his hand counting from one to three. The man was still unmoving, the judge pointed South.
Big Boy South! Ignored the cheers and praise as he searched the crowd looking for only one person. You. You held an impressed look on your face. He's not weak, you know he’s far from strong but he was struggling for a bit and was able to hold his own. You had to give that to him. Your brother was hosting an after-party and you’ll be damned if you showed up wearing that shirt. So you left the stadium before you got caught in a crowd.
Walking down the hallway you sped to your car, you had an extra bag in your trunk. You were sure there was a shirt in there. And you were gonna change into a dress anyway for a party.
Luckily nobody caught sight of you and after the next couple of hours, you honestly thought you were good. The party was chill, it had a comforting atmosphere. You made a reminder to burn that South shirt with you got home. You heard a loud familiar laugh as he greeted your brother, both dapping things up. Speak of the fucking devil…
You grabbed a treat from the dessert table and began to hide. South was tall asf so it wouldn’t be hard for him to scope you out. Maybe hiding in one of the rooms will do you good. Then after a while when he’s intoxicated enough you could slip away.
Yea, that sounded like a good plan but South was currently fucking you stupid from the back with his hands gripping your cheeks. Squishing your glossy plump lips together. “Ah ah ah ahh ugh!” South chuckled at your chorus of moans with each thrust he gifted you.
Shaky moans left you as South slowed his movements so you felt his cock drag against your velvety walls. Eyes rolling to the back of your head with drool seeping from your bottom lip. South peppered chaste kisses down your neck. Groaning when he feels your pussy engulfing his length the more he thrust in.
His abnormally large hand left your cheek down to your neck. Where he choked you, leaving you in a state of shock as his thrust went crazy out of nowhere. And South is already crazy so taking those kinds of thrusts from a person like him is life or death.
South was kinda disappointed when he saw you still weren’t wearing the shirt. Even tho it wouldn’t match with the little unplanned dress code the guest wore. But knowing you, you would’ve made it work.
“Have no idea how fucking hard I got when I saw you wearing the stupid little shirt with my name on it” South sputtered his rash and deep thrusts knocking you off your feet as you leaned your full weight against the bathroom counter.
You tried to swallow but it was a challenge, “can’t breathe” you gasped out clawing at his hand. Receiving a spank on the ass. “Breathing is a privilege, brats do not get privileges!” He seethed, spanking your ass a bit more before he wrapped his other hand around your throat too.
Now choking you with both hands, rapid thrusts that has your ass bouncing against his pelvis which can barely keep up, and your feet aren’t even touching the floor. You started screaming in pleaser but much wasn’t heard considering South had his middle finger on your vocal cord. Your curly hair flew in your face. The cute little lavender bow clip you had pinned at the hair on the back of your head was slowly tilting to the side. The twist out from your flat twist was sure to fluff up, as the two curly strands in front of your face were sticking to your forehead.
It was only then that you noticed how stuffy it was beginning to get in your brother's guest bathroom.
Without stopping South grabbed your left thigh raising it over the sink to give him more access to your pussy. You were looking at the counter before South jerked your head back.
South was now holding you in the air one hand gripping your thick thigh and the other still gripping your neck. His thrust still being consistent. Moving your body up and down on his thick girthy cock as if he was lifting 50-pound weights in the gym as his warmup. And that’s all you weighed to him, you were easy to pick up and fuck on his cock as 50-pound weights at the gym. This may seem like a lot but we’re talking about the Heavy Weight MMA Champion South Terano here. 🤨
South brought you close to his chest leaning his head down to whisper into your ear. “Next time I wanna be fucking you in that shirt, you hear me” You nodded quickly, South slowly walking over to the glass walk-in shower and turning on the faucet. Before closing the door. The shower was quick to steam up. A rip was heard inside the shower and the dress you were wearing was thrown over the top of the shower glass onto the bathroom floor. Where it was ripped in half.
South stripped you of everything except your little lavender bow clip. It is what he loved about you. It’s what made you, you. Who’s he to take that from you?
Big Boy Taiju! Who couldn’t help but take notice of you once he disbanded the 10th generation of Black Dragons. Don’t get him wrong just because he was running that gang like the Navy doesn’t mean he doesn’t keep up with his school work. He usually only shows up for tests. But he does his homework. His teachers email whatever to him and he gets it done. Online school in a way.
But having a whole lot more free time, he’s able to show up face-to-face to school. He then takes notice someone has taken his place as the top student. Yes, he gets excellent marks on his tests, but he’s not there to participate. Not that he did that before he was in Black Dragon.
Big Boy Taiju! Who at first couldn’t help but feel threatened by you. You’re stunning, intelligent, and kind. You work hard to get what you want- wait stunning? That’s new…
Big Boy Taiju! Who was sure you knew who he was but to his surprise you didn’t. You don’t necessarily keep up with people’s names cuz you don’t go to school for that. Yea, you might help someone out with hanging up a banner for a school event, or take some papers to the front office. But you mainly by yourself unbothered. It’s high school, and a lot of people feel threatened about you since you act the way you do.
Big Boy Taiju! Who couldn’t help but feel the need to protect you from some lower-class man who thought it would be a good idea to corner you in an empty classroom to ask you out. He of course not understanding the full context of the situation on his end ended up acting out irrationally. Landing you both in detention and the lower-class men in the nurse's office.
Big Boy Taiju! Who had gotten cursed out by you he didn’t even know what to do. Except sit and listen. Turns out that lower-class men are in the same club as you and one of your club members is out sick. So they needed you to replace them for an upcoming school event. And that classroom you were in is where you usually hang out.
Big Boy Taiju! Who felt like shit but him still being his old self refused to own up to being at fault. This started your whole rivalry in the first place, especially since you found out he was at the top first until he got involved with gang shit.
Big Boy Taiju! Who studied his ass off when he didn’t need to just so he can hopefully get a higher mark than you. He never does. He always thinks ‘What would (reader) do if she had to solve this problem’ or ‘How would reader react if someone were to come up to her and ask that’. He never thought for himself, just a ‘what if’ if you were in his shoes. It was that mentality that led him to become slightly obsessed in a way.
Big Boy Taiju! Who couldn’t help but to start keeping an eye on you around school. It’s not hard considering he’s freakishly tall. And intimidating, he’s only freshly out of the gang lifestyle, but he can still order people around to his every wish. Which makes sense as to why you feel more eyes on you than usual.
Big Boy Taiju! Who slowly starts to join the clubs you joined. And began to work in the same business industry you did for the simple possibility that you’ll cross paths at least once.
Big Boy Taiju! Who knew you started to take notice of his actions. Becoming wary but at the same time you didn’t give him the time of day. And it pissed him off to no end. Finally having enough he decided to grow some balls and corner you one day during the free period.
A huff left you as your back ached bending down as you continued to complete the complicated math problem on the whiteboard. After adding it all together you get your final answer. Sighing in relief you stood up, your hand finding a place on your lower back as you cracked it. A satisfied groan leaves your lips.
Turning around you went in front of the desk that would belong to the teacher if it was an active classroom. On the desk was a spread of your homework. History report, As well as a Historical Diagram from some age in history you didn’t give a shit about, and math homework.
Your previous homework was finished as well as your extra credit. But you had to put math last as it causes you full attention and time. And once you finished the troubling subject you wanted to be done. You copied your work from the board onto the sheet of paper.
Chest bubbling with excitement as you were close to finishing. Now you have to just write your name at the top. Writing the letter of your first name you didn’t get a chance to write your last name when someone’s breath fanned against your ear. “I think Shiba would fit better”.
You turned around shock evident on your face. The palms of your hands on either side of you rest on the surface of the desk as you face your supposed rival. You just saw him as another person that was enthralled by you. Being used to that the people around here aren’t used to someone minding their business, especially someone like you. It sparked curiosity in them if they as a person were uninteresting or if you had your dark secrets kept hidden and locked away not wanting anyone near.
More so the former. You just wanted to finish school early and get the fuck up out here. :/
“What?” You sighed trying to hide the creeped-out feeling you were getting by your usual rbf (resting bitch face). “Needed to see you in person. Haven’t seen you all day” he stalled. Bullshit. You could tell by seeing him do that silly triangle method that happens in movies or TV shows.
His yellow animalistic-like eyes trailed from your left eye to your plump glossed lips to your right eye. And he was trying impossibly hard to not try and look at your chest. You were already on to him. “What do you want Shiba” you asked Irritated, you finally finished all your homework and extra credit. You had the weekend off from the bakery since the old lady who owns its grandchildren is coming to visit and they’ll be helping her out.
“You.” He said bluntly, his hand grabbing your lower back and pulling your chest flush against his. His lips collided with yours. You were quick to take action hands flying towards his chest to push him away, But Taiju was quicker to lift you onto the desk. Breaking the kiss as you tried your best to ignore the trail of saliva leaving your mouth and connecting to his.
Your face heated up, suddenly feeling a tad bit bashful at such a lewd action. Especially when Taiju pressed soft and affectionate kisses alongside your jawline. The back of your hand covered your lower face as you tried to repeat in your head that this was happening over and over.
Taiju grabbed your hand moving it out of the way hearing the little whimpers slipping through your slightly parted lips. Holding your body close to his as he took his time to work on you.
You were luckily able to stop him from doing something crazy while you both were at school.
Which is how you found yourself in Taiju’s bed right now, spending the weekend with him.
Moans slipped past your lips but Taiju practically swallowed them for you as he had the upper hand when kissing. He knew what to do as you tried your best to keep up. Tongue being added? It’s almost as if he’s teasing you.
Grabbing your tit messaging the flesh in his hand Taiju couldn’t the groan escaping him. You felt so nice and warm under him, especially in his bed. Having you stripped of your clothes but your bra was pulled down to your upper tummy.
It was quick when Taiju switched positions to him being under you. And as he stared at you, the small lamp light that illuminated the room made you look ethereal in his eyes. He couldn’t believe he felt like this for someone. It’s odd. But he’s not against it.
You had the heels of your feet hooked under his knees, he closed any remaining space as if to lock you in place to keep you still.
Hands gripping your waist that’s sure to leave a bruise, Taiju slowly rocked your body up and down before he eventually lowered you down to the tip of his cockhead. A pained groan slipped past your lips feeling just how big he was. Before a kiss to your temple was felt he attempted to calm you down.
Sinking you both threw your heads back, moaning in sync. Your back arching as you did so, Taiju’s hands slowly trailed down to the fat of your ass. He wanted to go slow with you trust me he did but he couldn’t help it. Not with the way you’re violently sucking him in. With that, he slammed half of his length inside of you. The scream you let out made him glad that he moved out and he now lives alone.
“Fuck Tai!” You whined placing your hand on his tatted chest feeling overwhelmed. You felt hot and needed to create some distance before you tweaked out. “M’sorry mama couldn’t help myself- shit! Go at your own pace” he grunted, breathing in and out to work on his self-control that he once didn’t have.
It took a while before you finally relaxed around him. Rocking your hips as whiny moans leave you. Feeling him everywhere felt overwhelming, you don’t think you could take the lead but you could try with the strength you have left.
You slowly rocked your hips up and down his cock, your hips rocking in a circle as you did so. “Oh~” a tired moan escaped you, Taiju still being an eager little shit. Rocked his hips up every few thrusts. It catches you off guard.
Finally getting the hang of it you gripped his shoulders and bounced on cock. Tears pricked your eyes as you slowly took more of him inside of your pussy. The slick dripping from you acted like a lube as you moved with ease. You couldn’t control the sounds leaving your mouth as the pleasure was too immense.
Taiju dug his head into his bed as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. You did not notice the trail of spit dribbling down the side of your mouth. Choked moans came from him as he felt your pussy clench around him tight. Your walls slowly molding to the shape of his cock. And soon enough you were the perfect fit for him.
Fluttered his eyes he looked at you. Your tight curly hair falls over your shoulders. Eyes clenched shut as you feel something building up inside of you, Taiju had to do something before you ended up fucking yourself dumb and end up hurting yourself. Tightening his lock on your feet he grabbed your lower back and pressed you against him.
He was fucking up into your sobbing pussy, you crying out into his shoulder. “There we go baby such a good girl for me, are you? You and your pussy are so good to me” he grunted. Hiccuping every once in a while Taiju’s words of reassurance help you calm down. His tip intrudes at your cervix entrance leaving you lost for words.
Your ass bounced against Taiju’s inner thighs with every rough thrust he gave you. You clawed at his collar bone done his chest, as your tears finally started letting up.
“Tai! Ugh~” you moaned, phap phap phap echoed throughout the bedroom.
Biting your lip when you felt Taiju’s cockhead punch your cervix again your orgasm rushing through. Taiju’s rough hand snakes its way to your clit. Stimulating the hell out of your little bud, as your brain paused. Trying to register all of the immense pleasure coming from all different parts of your body.
Clear liquids squirted out of you, as Taiju chuckled in satisfaction. A two-in-one orgasm had you melting into his chest. Just how he wanted you to.
Chasing his orgasm Taiju grabbed the fat of your ass and bounced you to his heart's content. As your fluttering pussy walls brought him closer and closer. His movements became rushed and uneven before two shallow thrusts and he was finished.
Throwing his head back with a groan as Taiju’s cock twitched and he was shooting load after load inside of you. Falling back onto the bed fully as you both were a panting mess.
You whined wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close. Freeing your feet to either side of his waist and before your little snores could be heard.
Big Boy Taiju! Who finds out he’s not so big and bad and that he can change for the right person.
Author's Note: I could’ve sworn I posted this before I fell asleep. So that’s a my bad on my part. But my period cramps knocked me out but I’m glad I didn’t accidentally delete it half sleep 🙏🏾
suguru practically strangles you when the two of you are sleeping
you’re in bed with your boyfriend, your face buried in his bare chest. his strong arms were wrapped tight around you, his frame curled around yours.
he just loves how small and warm you are, and the feeling of your breath falling in little wisps against his skin.
“baby. c’mere.” he whispered sleepily, pulling you impossibly closer against his chest.
“m’literally as close to you as possible, sugu.” you mutter in response, squirming a little in his grasp, attempting to get comfortable while your furnace of a boyfriend is wrapped around you.
not to mention, it’s already swelteringly hot in your apartment, and your big muscly boyfriend’s vice grip around you is not helping.
he lets out a quiet chuckle against your hair as you attempt to escape.
“suguruuu,” you whine, opting to try to pry his arms from around you instead. “you’re actually burning me.”
“oh, so you don’t like cuddling with me now?”
“it’s not that, baby. i just enjoy my mobility.”
he loosens his hold by a fraction. “that better for you, sweetheart?” he asks, voice low and sleepy and entirely serious.
you just sigh, giving into the fact that you’ll never be able to win against him, but you know that you’re right where you want to be.
Your son’s teacher calls you in for a meeting to make sure everything's fine at home
Dad!Sukuna part two || part one || part three
"Oh, I can take him to kindergarten tomorrow," you noted, finishing evening skincare routine before getting to bed.
The bathroom door was open, offering you a clear look at Sukuna's massive body stretched on the bed, fingers moving quickly through the screen of the phone. His eyes went up, forehead creased.
"Why you? I'm the one always dropping him off."
You shrugged, putting on the vitamin c and patting it gently into your skin. "His teacher said that there's something she needs to discuss with me. I asked if you could just pass it on, but no, it must be me."
"Well, weird," he mumbled, waiting till you'll finally stop powdering yourself up and come cuddle with him.
"Let's go together anyway. I need to do some shopping tomorrow, so you can drop me off at the market. I wanted to buy some ingredients for the birthday cake."
And when he heard the last gentle pats on your cheeks and the spraying of the flowery mist, he knew that your routine was done. Your body walked towards the bed slowly, a little bump already visible under the pathetic gown you loved to call a pyjama. Why even wear it if the curve of your ass was almost fully bare and your heavy breasts could barely fit into the neckline? To train your imagination, you would chuckle and keep his hands off your sensitive nipples.
The next day, his jeep parked in front of the kindergarten, and all three of you rolled from the car. You tried to ask your son why the teacher suddenly called you in and whether he had his fingers in it, but the boy barely shrugged and gave you and Sukuna a goodbye kiss. You both watched his pinkish hair disappear in one of the classrooms before moving towards the teacher's office.
Your hand on your belly, Sukuna's arm around your waist, as he, as always, piqued the interest of all the other parents with his massive frame and tattooed arms. You laughed, seeing how casually he chatted with some mothers about the latest changes in the kindergarten's menu, and yeah, he also thinks removing little packaged carrots from it wasn't a good move.
And as you walked closer, your brows suddenly furrowed. The teacher you were supposed to meet with stood together with a... policeman? And another woman in a neat blazer, with a thick folder clutched in her fingers. All three of them looked at Sukuna with a scowl as he easily towered over their figures, with the same surprised expression as yours.
"Mrs Ryomen," the teacher nodded, peeking mistrustfully at your husband. "And Mr Ryomen, welcome. Mrs Ryomen, may I please invite you inside?"
You glanced at Sukuna, but before any words could spill, the policeman suddenly cut in. "Mr Ryomen, I will ask you to stay here, if you don't mind."
Both of you looked at him with a furrow, darting between all three of them. The teacher played with her fingers nervously, the policeman tried to stay composed, while the third woman looked at you both with an intense gaze. Weird.
"I'm sorry, but what's going on?" you asked, trying to loosen the atmosphere with a faint laugh. "Can we just come inside together?"
The teacher wriggled awkwardly, shifting from one foot to another. "Well, according to the protocol, I'll need to talk to you alone, Mrs Ryomen."
A protocol?
"What protocol?" Sukuna rolled, and you could already feel the anxiety coming off his body.
"The one we start when there's a suspicion of domestic violence."
Your face? Horrified.
Sukuna's? Pale as death.
His arm tensed around your waist, lips fell open as both of you stood stupefied. You could feel how his body suddenly shrank, fingers started to tremble. Because one thing Sukuna was surely not, was a fucking abuser. In fact, he was always the "good policeman", you would say. Grumpy, yes, but indeed quite weak for both his son and wife. So the accusation the teacher tried to push made his head spin and heart suddenly drop.
You reacted first. "I'm sorry, there's some misunderstanding–"
"Please let's talk about it inside," the teacher asked once again, coming inside her cabinet.
You left Sukuna with a don't worry, everything's going to be alright look and closed the door behind you.
The strange woman also came in, watching the whole spectacle in silence.
"Ah, Mrs Ryomen, she's a social worker. I know everything may be a bit overwhelming, but the protocol–"
"Miss Marumachi," the graveness of your voice sent a shiver through the teacher's body. "As you can see, I'm pregnant, and as you may or may not know, stress is certainly not good for pregnant women. You, accusing my husband of domestic abuse, make me more stressed than I've ever been since giving birth to my first child, so cut this crap and tell me what's going on."
"Miss–" the social worker tried to clip in, but your steady finger quickly shifted her way.
"And you shut up. I have no idea what story you've heard, but my husband is the last person to ever raise a hand at our son or me."
The teacher quickly nodded her head, pulling a piece of paper from her wooden desk. She held it with wet fingers, and you noticed a droplet of sweat forming around her temple.
"Last week, during the class, children had a task to talk about their parents. We were learning about the meaning of love, and children needed to say a few nice words about their parents' relationship," she coughed.
Well, you and Sukuna definitely had a very (maybe sometimes overly) lovable and touchy relationship, so you couldn't really see where this was going. You sighted, resting a hand on your pushed-out hip.
"Your son quite proudly said that, well, let my cite – my daddy loves me and mommy very much, and he's strong as hulk," she glanced up at you from the piece of paper, seeing a little smile curving your lips.
"Is there anything wrong?" you asked.
"No, but... let me continue, miss," she coughed, eyes rolling down to probably the whole culmination of this fuckass situation. "He also said that, and I cite, sometimes my mommy cries, and then daddy hits her, calling her mean names," she quickly looked up at your pale face, before continuing. "My mommy often prays to God, but I think daddy doesn't like it and gets mad, because he says 'there's no God here you slu–'"
"Yes, I understand!" you quickly cut her off, trying to hold the little dignity that was already left. Flushed cheeks, quickened breath, eyes already apologising for the whole mess your son has caused.
"Miss," the social worker started politely. "You should think of your son and unborn child. Leaving abusers is difficult, but we can help you, and–"
You moved the single strand of hair stuck to your wet forehead and took a deep, shameful breath. "My husband is not an abuser. Things my son has heard come from our... um..." Oh, for Christ's sake, they were adult women. Why did you need to explain yourself about your sex life?! "... bedroom. In the night. When we thought he was sleeping. You see, I like it a bit more... rough."
The silence that fell between the three of you must've been the most awkward one you've ever felt. Their faces abruptly flushed with crimson, throats clenching around the faint coughs that filled the dense air.
"Alright then," the teacher smiled gently, uncomfortably, with the social worker quickly nodding her head. "My apologies, Mrs Ryomen. That was... quite an misunderstanding. Please try to explain it to your son, so he won't see his dad as an abuser. I know Mr Sukuna loves him dearly, but kids don't understand certain... behaviours."
The ride back home – Sukuna took a day off, because he almost fainted waiting for you in the hallway – was silent. With nothing but his wide grin and your reddened cheeks.
"I really thought he was sleeping," you whined, covering your eyes with trembling palms. "Oh my god, Sukuna, our son thinks you're beating me!"
A loud laughter filled the car, as his chest started to tremble from all the amusement he had held since hearing about this fuckass misunderstanding.
"Stop laughing, it's not funny! What if other kids told their parents, and now they think I'm a victim of domestic violence?"
"That's what you get for wanting me to get rougher," he chuckled, as you hit his shoulder with a fist.
On the same evening, you had a long talk with your son, trying to explain that, uhm, sometimes when people love each other... they call themselves certain names. And, well, give each other slaps. Not hits! Gentle slaps, like when your daddy ruffles your hair or pats you on the back, right? But you know that daddy is doing this because he loves you. So when you hear your mommy screaming in the night, it's because... um... daddy makes her very, very happy... yeah....
The talk seemed to go quite smoothly, with both you and Sukuna explaining that he really, really loves you and would never do anything to make you hurt. Your son seemed to understand it quite well.
Until next week.
When both of you got called in, because your son called his friend a little slut.
Reason? That's what daddy says to mommy because he really, really loves her.
I love how our son doesn't have a name. He's just... a son.
An outcast you rejected a while ago cannot bear the sight of you with other men! And what's a better place to corner you and beg to love him? By the lake, at night, when you're naked and alone. After he made sure to get rid of your newest lover, of course!
part of slutty (slasher) summer
˖ꨄ ݁˖ pairing: ꒰ Stalker/Killer!Suguru Geto x Slutty!Reader ꒱
˖ꨄ ݁˖ content & warning: ꒰ mdni 18+ :: heavy smut :: set in 80s :: psycho stalker suguru :: yandere :: obsessive behaviour :: extreme possesiveness :: violence (not towards the reader) :: emo Suguru :: minx reader :: she's so mean :: murders :: death threats :: university au :: suguru has piercings :: oral sex :: masturbation :: stalking :: panties stealing (ofc) :: breeding kink :: creampie :: oral sex :: pussydrunk suguru :: belly bulges :: blood :: we love beating men :: miserable suguru :: extreme jealousy ꒱
˖ꨄ ݁˖ words: ꒰ 11.4k ꒱
˖ꨄ ݁˖ notes: It was supposed to be shorter, but then I spiralled and cooked another long fic. Hope you'll like it <3
He was always there – somewhere, lurking behind the university's walls, with lavender eyes fixed on your figure.
Suguru Geto was known as your menace, stalker, the man who somehow became utterly obsessed with this campus's slutty sweetheart. A freak, an outcast, always hanging out with his weirdo friends. Metal bars coated his face like twinkling stars, and long, shiny hair brushed the ends of his hips, hung with heavy chains.
Two years of a master's degree, two years of a nightmare, a man haunting your dreams like a spectral creature with eyes always fixed on your body and heavy, bittersweet cologne trailing you through the corridors.
You first met in September of 86'. Right on campus, you sat on the grass with your new group of friends and a jock whose name you had long since forgotten, clinging to you like a puppy. The prettiest new girl at university, a heartbreaker, a slut, which you never truly denied. For it was the truth that you enjoyed sleeping around and chirping bewitching sweetness to your next foolish victims.
And Suguru saw you then, as you lay on lush grass in a mid-thigh skirt and white socks, wrapped just above your knees. You wore a checkered top and long earrings that brushed your neck. Squinted eyes turned to his freaky group once, with glossed lips curving into a mischievous smile and a slightly raised eyebrow.
"Why is he staring at me?" you asked, piquing Shoko's interest.
She looked over her shoulder, pushing a low groan. "Ugh, I guess he wants to talk to you. Don't mind them, probably some weird art major."
But it was hard to ignore the lavender irises hiding behind the almond-shaped eyes and this curious, slightly cheeky tilt of his head. September was still rather warm, and yet black jeans wrapped his long legs, hung with silver chains and patches. Dark tee with some washed-out band and thick bracelets stacked one after one on his pale wrists. Massive shoes could probably leave a hole in your delicate, white heels, and so grimace tug on your lips.
A jock sitting right next to you pushed a lock of hair behind your ear, with a, "Don't worry, sweetheart, he won't be bothering you."
But you didn't answer, since he would be replaced by another guy by the end of this week. There was no need to raise his hopes.
The days were passing, and you were soon completely wrapped up in the university's tight schedule. Classes, studying, partying. Classes, studying, partying, fucking.
The young adult life was fun, with your friends always pulling you out of the dorm in the dead of night and taking you from one bar to another. From the local student's club to the cabin by the lake, owned by one of the jocks you happened to sleep with.
But the joys of a student's life – be it an evening spent studying or fucking in the car after a stressful exam – were, after a few months, taken away by your stalker.
Suguru Geto has been following you since day one. The moment his eyes fell on your body sprawled on the campus lawn, skin shimmering in the late summer sun, and a sweet giggle tickling his pierced ears.
His brain turned fuzzy whenever he saw the angelic aura wrapping around your cheeky face. Heart melted when your eyes fell on him, even for a single second. An uncontrollable feeling bubbled in his chest at the sheer sight of a little crease appearing between your brows when you bestowed him with a grimace.
It was clear that, for some reason, you treated him rather as a foe than a man who could pique your interest.
At first, he did nothing but look. Observe, with this devilish smile tugging at his lips and lavender irises taking pleasure in the loveliest scowl slipping onto your face. He tried to keep himself at bay, but not because shyness coiled in his heart.
No, simply because he wished to know everything about you, before making an official approach. Your favourite flowers, the desserts you most cherished, the tight course schedule that always seemed to keep you up all night, favourite shapes and colours of the clacking jewellery that hung from your skin. Of the big hoops that always brushed your neck, and bracelets stacked one on another, chirping like sweet birds whenever you passed by.
He wished to know the colour of your lingerie and how your panties smelled after a long day. To feel the warmth of the bra that had just left the embrace of your breasts. Smell the sweetness of your slightly sweated skin after days when you joined the cheerleading sessions.
Suguru… Suguru wanted to be the one having you all to himself, even if you hated the sheer sight of him.
Whenever you took a shower during late, late nights – someone always seemed to be there. In the shared bathroom on your floor, the one meant to be used solely by the female students. A listener, whose ears pricked up to hear a soft hum of a random melody that bubbled in your throat and sweet sighs when the first hot droplets hit your skin.
The first time you noticed it was when the bathroom doors closed louder than they should. Another girl coming back from a late session, you thought, giving it no mind.
But the silence that lingered in the air stretched for too long. As no other shower seemed to be in use, nor did any other sounds of movement filled the lonely bathroom.
You waited, and waited, to hear something that would not make you believe that a fucking creep slipped inside the room just to await your naked body leaving the shower.
But nothing else ever came, and so your voice echoed off the walls with a, "Hello?"
Silence stood still, and the hot droplets soon turned into the cold sweat tickling the shivering skin along your spine. Nothing, but the thick fog filled the tiled bathroom and a heavy breath of yours, trying to listen for the eerie footsteps that clacked against the wet floor a few seconds ago.
Coming closer, and closer, till you could already see the heavy, black boots peeking from the lower door crack. A gentle tingling of the oh-so-familiar silver chain slashed through the air, and if you lifted your head up, surely you could see a peek of silky black hair. The shower doors were, after all, not two meters tall.
"You fucking freak," a low snort escaped your throat. "You don’t think I know who you are?"
Silence.
He simply stood there, as if waiting. For you to come outside? Or maybe simply enjoying the tension that rose within a blinding fog. The faster beating of your heart, shuddered breath you tried to conceal with a harsh tone, and trembling fingers covering your breasts, as if he could see your naked body through the door.
"Cat got your tongue, huh? Don’t be a coward, at least say something," you continued, making sure the miserably weak latch was keeping the door closed. "You’ve been stalking me for months. Don’t you know who my boyfriend is?"
Suguru knew.
But he also knew that the captain of the basketball team wasn’t your boyfriend. Because you didn’t do that stuff – relationships, love, cheesy romance.
So a low chuckle slipped past his lips as he pressed his forehead to the door. Trying to smell the sweet body wash that lingered in the air, imagining the foam that coated your soft body and curled around those plush breasts he loved so dearly.
"I can’t believe you’re getting off to this," another snort escaped your throat, as you banged with a fist on the door. "You don’t think I’ll report you? I’ll end you, do you hear me?!"
But Suguru could simply laugh – deeply, with a vibration hitting the plastic surface. His large palm pressed to the door, as if he tried to imagine where exactly your hand lay. So the image of your skins almost touching could slip an eerie, excited thought that tickled his mind in such a pleasant manner.
A wrath coiled beneath your heart, hearing how much he enjoyed this little torture. Because, if only he wanted, he surely could rip the door off the hinges with little to no sweat. Instead, he simply let out a hum, curling the fingers into a fist.
"Sure, baby. I hear you loud and clear," a low purr bounced off the tile, foggy walls.
The heat made your head spin, body leaned against the plastic door in need of fresh air. But going out now would mean slipping right into his needy clutches.
And before you could snap once again, he added, "I hope you won’t mind me taking those pretty panties of yours, hm? I’ll give them back one day, pinky promise," and with that, the leather shoes disappeared from your sight.
With your pitched you fucking psycho, kissing his cheeks goodbye, as he left the stuffy bathroom.
And so during the first semester, you started seeing the consequences of having a stalker like him.
Your panties were disappearing one by one, and you knew that it was not a fault of the old washing machines in the dorm. Always suddenly appearing back on your bed, clean and fragrant, although only god knew what he did with them.
Other times, it was the white knee-socks from the cheerleader costume. The woollen, soft material that wrapped your sweaty thighs after hours of training. Always disappearing whenever you planned to do the laundry, always back on your bed a bit stiff, with a heavy cologne still clinging to the cloth.
The report to the headmaster did truly nothing, as you had no proof whatsoever that Suguru Geto was your stalker, nor that he slipped into the women’s bathroom. After all, no one else saw him, and for that matter, no one could accuse him of anything.
The jock you were sleeping with back then refused to deal with him another way, for he simply didn’t see a reason to it.
You snorted, the first time Toji said it and slipped off his bed. The winter’s biting cold was sneaking past the old dorm windows as you started dressing yourself up.
"Doll, what are you doing?" The mountain of a man asked with a sigh, stretching his massive body on a bed. "I won’t kill some random guy, just because you think he’s stalking you."
You scoffed at the quizzical tone of his voice, pulling on the warm, woolly sweater. "So you think I made this up, huh?"
Toji groaned, lazily wiping his face with a hand. "Come on, I’m just saying that he may have a crush and that’s it."
"He’s been stealing my underwear and listening to me taking showers for months!"
The emerald eyes followed you with a raised eyebrow, as you pulled tight jeans onto your ass. The scowl between your brows made him chuckle lowly and sit up on a bed, patting the still-warm place next to him.
"Come on, let me make you feel better. It’s not as if he’ll do anything else." His long hand reached for the loops of your jeans, but you quickly smacked it. "Doll, I’m serious. If you were in danger, I would definitely deal with him."
Fully dressed, with shoes on, you turned to him with a low tsk and, "I think you’re too much of a fucking coward to do it," before going out of his room and closing the door with a thud.
Months passed; winter turned into early spring, the second semester began, and Suguru Geto was slowly getting closer.
In slow, baby steps and yet you felt the line between the two of you thinning. With him appearing on your horizon much more often, following you around the campus, barely trying to hide it.
In early spring, he started leaving little gifts on your bed, under the door, in the locker. A pretty set of lingerie, favourite flowers, a tape with music he thought you could like, the… death threats.
Not to you, oh, but of course, as he would rather cut his limbs off than make a single, precious strand of your hair fall for the greediness filling his heart.
All the death threats were always aimed at your lovers, of course.
As Suguru had a little patience left for seeing you change men like gloves, with none worthy to be bestowed with the softness of your skin. To nuzzle into your neck, trace kisses down the chin, and hear the sweet laughter every single day.
Suguru was simply jealous. And he addressed it quite openly in short, paper notes that you somehow always found in your bag.
The mix of, baby he’s not good for you, and, break it off, or he’ll regret ever setting his eyes on my girl.
When you brought them all to the headmaster, he simply offered to monitor the situation. As you still had no proof to offer that Suguru Geto was the one who wrote them all. No one saw him slipping the notes into your bag, nor his ghastly figure stealing all your lingerie.
On a campus, he was simply a weird guy.
In classes, the best student.
For you, a hellish nightmare that tried to crawl under your skin and wrap around your body like a deathly viper.
And so you ignored the threats. Broke most of your relationships, but didn’t quite reveal the reason. If he had a problem with you sleeping with one guy for a month or two, then… you simply had to stick to one-night stands and not show yourself on campus with any other men.
As long as you weren’t hanging onto anyone’s shoulder, it should be okay. Somehow, you would last the next year and leave this town behind. With the stalker hot on your heels and the presents stacked in your bedroom, one on top of another.
The middle of the second semester began quickly, with spring in full bloom and the sizzling sun once again letting you slip away for the pool parties at the jocks’ houses. You allowed yourself to get lost in the pleasures and madness of student life, with summer just around the corner. Only a few months left, and you would get a break from your stalker for the whole holidays.
But then… Suguru Geto confessed.
He came to your dorm with a bouquet of your favourite flowers, a small bun sitting high on his head, and pierced lips curling in a gentle smile, as he knocked on your dorm’s door. After months of following you obediently like a puppy, he knew every little thing about you.
Every mood swing of yours, each emotion, always oh so visible on your lovely face. He learned how to watch you, please you, and say the right things to become the perfect boyfriend.
He knew how your pussy smelled during the ovulation days. How you usually tasted, checking it each day with a pretty lingerie of yours pressed to his lips, and fingers pumping his leaking cock.
He learned the melody you always hummed under the shower and the brand of shampoo that made your hair smell like the sweetest garden.
He found out what you liked and hated in bed, all the kinks you wished to try. The way your fingers pressed to your swollen clit, whenever you stayed in your dorm room alone. How your breath hitched when you were close, and thighs squeezed around nothing, although he truly wished it was his head being squished between the heavenly softness that haunted his dreams.
And when you opened the door, he knew that it was now or never. He, finally, was worthy to ask for your love.
"Hi, baby," he said, glancing at your figure dressed in nothing but a skimpy gown.
Wrapping you a bit too tight, ending just above the mid-thighs and with perked nipples poking through the flimsy material.
A scowl bubbled in your throat, and you quickly, with full force, tried to close the door. But he was quicker, slipping his heavy shoe right into the small crack.
"Leave, or I’ll start screaming," you warned him, getting as an answer a low giggle.
He pushed the door easily, coming into your room. The dim light slipping from the night table bathed the small space with a soft glow. A few scented candles flickered on your desk and the bed of your roommate, as usual, was empty.
You took a few steps back, trying not to show any signs of panic.
The sudden fear that rose in your chest. Breath becoming slightly more hitched, fingers trembling around the gown you tried to pull down. Eyes fixed on him, as if he could attack any minute now.
But he, as always, was looking at you. Closely, carefully, with lavender warmth slipping up and down your body and a handsome smirk tugging on his lips. Long hair tickled his shoulder, swimming down along the muscular back dressed in leather jacket. Metal bars on his lips and eyebrows twinkled like coins under the spilling candle-flame, adding a sort of wickedness to his demeanour.
Suguru Geto was… handsome.
Dear lord, he was beautiful.
And as difficult as it was to swallow, you could not change the fact that your stalker was one of the prettiest men you had ever seen. With a horrendous and sinful character, yet the face of an angel.
So you allowed yourself to trace the broad back bulging under the jacket. The height looming over your shivering figure. Long fingers that gripped the bouquet and beefy thighs dressed in black jeans. The woodsy scent of his cologne wrapped around your senses in an utterly pleasurable way, melting you in its warmth.
You hated the way he made you feel. Confused, scared, and most of the time simply furious. But somehow, on some days, a bit too balmy. With a heat spreading all over your body, slipping under the chest, down the belly, between the thighs, as if the wickedness of his actions, the sheer idea of how obsessed he was with you, made you excited.
So then, while he stood in your dorm with a straightened back, you decided to wait. To see what other foolish plan would bloom in his devilish mind, only for you to bring it back to the headmaster.
"What the fuck do you want?" you snapped, crossing arms over your chest.
He took a step closer, lavender eyes mingling with an excitement of a source that made your spine tingle in an unpleasant way. Long hand extended towards you, pushing a lush bouquet right into your arms.
"Go out with me," he stated, not even curving his tone into a question.
A statement, rather, it was as if he was utterly sure that you would agree.
And you stood there with the same scowl that didn’t leave your forehead even for a second. Fingers wrapped around the heavy bouquet, nostrils tingling with the strong, flowery smell you loved so much.
But the wrath coiling beneath your chest was dangerously close to spilling. Eyes bulged, hearing the question he dared to push after months of acting like a psycho stalker and turning your life into madness. Everyone looked at you like a crazy, delusional woman who tried to frame a poor outcast as a maniac who, Suguru Geto, definitely wasn’t.
And now he had the audacity to stand in your bedroom, checking your body dressed in nothing but a flimsy robe, as a sly smile tugged at his lips.
"What did you just say?" Rolled in tremble, as you could barely stop the rage bubbling in your chest.
His head tilted. Long legs took another step closer. Until the big hand lifted to nuzzle your soft cheek, strong thumb brushing the skin aflame with fury.
"Go out with me, baby. Let me love you as you deserve it." The silkiness of his tone made your head spin, in both an unsettling pleasure and madness. "And if you don’t want to date me, use me. It’s been a while since you slept with someone, hm? Why won’t you just use me for your pleasure?"
Thumb slipped to your slightly parted lips. The urge to bite it and suck on it fought in your mind, bringing an irrational feeling that made your lower lip tremble right under his digit.
His words clearly stated that he, in fact, did not know that you hadn’t given up on sleeping with other men. Because if he did…
"Why so sure that I’m not fucking with anyone?" You muttered, tilting head in a cheeky manner.
As if you wanted to indulge yourself in the psychotic game of his, fully aware that you would always end up as a loser. Because for the past few months, Suguru Geto was never, ever, letting you win any of the tricks you tried to play on him. The reports, gathering the evidence, paying people to give him the lesson, although the next day he was always appearing back on the university’s lawn. Fully aware of all your miserable attempts.
Something in his eyes twinkled, but the smile didn’t come off his lips even for a second. "Do you?"
You smacked away his hand, and with a swing, shot the flowers through the room. Gentle petals smashed against the wall, falling pitifully on your roommate’s empty bed.
Before he could even look their way, your arms wrapped around his neck, perked nipples pressed against his torso as you lifted yourself up on tiptoes. The sweetness of your skin immediately enveloped his senses, and it seemed this sudden, intimate gesture left him speechless.
"Every. Single. Night." You whispered, tugging harshly on the long, silky hair curling behind his neck. His breath slipped out shuddered, and, for the first time, you noticed a true rage bubbling in his gaze. "Think you’re so smart? That I’m scared of your stupid threats?" He didn’t answer, allowing himself to cherish the softness of your body pressed to his. "I’m fucking every day with a different guy. Guys, maybe? Who knows, maybe I’m already knocked up stupid after all the cum they–"
His patience finally snapped.
One hand curled around your waist, the other lifted to squeeze your jaw before the last, nasty words would fully set his mind ablaze. The fingers dug painfully into your cheeks, the arm kept you in place, forbidding you from slipping away from the deathly clutches.
"Aren’t you a smartass, hm?" He chuckled, but his low voice was edged with the wrath that made the lavender irises narrow into a cat-eye glance. "I’m giving you an easy way out, baby. If you’re a fucking nymphomaniac, why won’t you make me your boy toy? Think I was joking?" He tugged you, drawing a soft groan from your throat. And as fear filled your body from head to toe, something exciting, maddeningly confusing, tingled in your fingertips.
"You are a fucking joke," a muffled mutter bounced off the walls, only making him squeeze your cheeks even harder.
"I don’t think you’re in a position to make me angry, baby," he leaned closer, his lips mere millimetres from yours.
Another move, and he could taste the sweetness of your lip gloss.
"Or what?" You snorted, enraging him even more. "You’ll kill me? Come on, psycho. At least I’ll get myself free from you."
Suguru never wanted to hurt you. He never wanted to do anything that would cause you even a moment's pain. But the way you spoke to him, the way your eyes twinkled with the truth of choosing death rather than spending another second in his presence, made his blood boil in a disgustingly dangerous way.
Your doe eyes fixed on his, lovely face twisted in a wicked smile as he finally loosened his grip on your cheeks.
"Is that your final answer, then?" He asked, low bass filling the small room. Candle flames licked a side of his face, with warm tongues and peppered kisses. A devil truly looking like an angel. "I promise you’ll regret it, baby."
And with a final scowl, you pushed him away. This time, he allowed you to do it without a fight.
To kick his massive body out of your room and smash the door till the tremor bounced off the corridors.
Back then, while gathering the beautiful flowers of the bed and pushing them all to the trash can, you didn’t know what consequences your decision would bring upon the lives of not just you, but all the other people you associated yourself with. The rage filled you from head to toe, making your mind go foggy from the dizziness and adrenaline that still pulsed in your veins.
Back then, you thought that the official rejection would finally stop all his attempts to coax you into this weird relationship he had made up in his head and give you a little breather.
So when you didn’t notice his presence around yourself for the next few days, a grain of hope bloomed beneath your heart. That maybe, he finally decided to leave you alone.
Your lingerie stopped disappearing, death threats were no longer found in your bag, and all the little presents stopped appearing on your bed. Life was getting back on track, and you could enjoy the last few months of university, hanging on jocks’ shoulders and slipping into parties every single weekend.
But as it would soon turn out, those few days of peace were nothing but a bad omen. The storm that would soon haunt not only your life but the whole campus itself.
As on the night one of the male students had left your dorm, he disappeared. Simply, just like that, only to be found two days later in the local forest. With body dismembered into pieces, head a few meters away from the torso.
When the news spread across the campus, not a single student or professor was left unshocked, their hearts shattered.
Did he have any enemies? People wondered. Did he find himself in the wrong place at the wrong time?
The police went to you first, of course, since you seemed to be the last person who saw him that night. But the two officers didn’t get anything from the stuttering, and weeping body of yours, with dark circles swollen under your eyes. As, in fact, you didn’t even know his name, after meeting at some party and taking back for a quick fuck to your room.
Weeks passed before you could somehow move on and find calmness within a company of another guy. Not a one-night stand, but simply someone whose kindness and gentlemanly manner made your mind flutter with peace. He talked to you gently and made a sweet, genuine laugh slip past your lips. A friend, companion, but of no love interest from your side.
And yet, after a while, he disappeared too. Only to be found in the lake, with a purple body bulging from the water and a head wrapped in a dirty sack.
This case… made you spiral into madness.
Because, as you would soon discover, men who got close to you in any way were always, always, going missing just a few days after exchanging a few simple words with you. Be it a random student working in a library or a waiter at your favourite dinner. It didn’t matter who they were to you, but a single glance at your face was enough to sentence them to death.
And whenever another person was disappearing, you always saw him.
Suguru Geto, looking at you from across the campus, with a diabolical smirk tugging at his lips. Of unmatched beauty, with cheeks, straight eyebrows, and almond-shaped eyes. Lavender gaze lingering, with an uncanny sense of a secret only the two of you knew. The love and obsession so heavy that he was ready to cut you off from any men if that would force you to crawl back to him.
So you simply stopped hanging around campus. You just gritted your teeth, hid face beneath the heavy hoodie, and left the room only for classes. Room – classes, room – classes, the route that, during the last month before the summer break, became your routine.
You made minimal contact with other men, be it people in your class or a cashier at the local supermarket. Avoided the parties, gatherings, hangouts, just to not risk anyone’s life any further.
Just one month, you thought, desperately wanting to move back to your parents’ house for the summer holidays.
To leave Suguru, the university, this whole mess behind, and lock yourself far away from all the problems you already caused.
And then, a few days before leaving, Shoko knocked on your door. And when you opened with a puffy face and a shirt dirty from a chocolate ice cream you just stuffed yourself with, she sighed heavily, quickly coming inside.
"Do you even have a roommate?" She asked, noticing that the other half of the room was always empty.
With a brief nod, you fell back on your bed and closed the book you had just been reading. Ice cream in a big paper cup was melting on your bedside table, and heavy curtains cut off the summer light in the stuffy room.
"She’s always hanging out with her boyfriend," you muttered, patting the place next to you.
Shoko took a seat, watching the misery furrow your face. "You can’t cut yourself off. It’s not healthy, you know?" she said, tugging a lock of your hair back behind an ear.
Your fingers fiddled with the old, pink tracksuit, picking on the little, plastic diamonds glued to the soft material.
"I don’t want anyone else to die," a low, almost crying voice filled the space as you desperately tried to hold back the tears already swirling behind your eyelids. "What if he’s going to hurt you?"
She wondered for a second, taking in your state, a pain ripping at her heart. "Don’t worry, I won’t let that bastard get anywhere near me. Besides, it seems that he only aims for your…" She bit down on the lower lip, as if not wishing to confirm what was already obvious. "Anyways, I thought that maybe we could have some fun tonight. Nothing crazy, just a simple funfair with me, Utahime and Yuki."
You looked up from behind the wet eyelashes, seeing the comforting smile on your friend’s face.
"I don’t think I’m in the mood for fun," another sigh escaped your tightened throat. "Besides, he can follow me there."
She hummed, nodding her chestnut head. Short hair curled around the lean cheeks, and a single cigarette was pushed behind an ear.
"Well, how about you slip away through the window? He won’t notice you leaving the dorm. His room is on the other side of the building; he won’t even see you cross the lawn."
A low giggle slipped past your lips, seeing a cheeky grin lift her lips. "And how do you know that?"
"I think you truly underestimate your friends. Yuki’s boyfriend is friends with his roommate, the nerd guy, Satoru. We’ll make sure he keeps him entertained for a few seconds," Shoko laughed, squinting her eyes like a sly kitty. "Besides, there’s some weird metal band in town. I’m sure he and the rest of Addam’s Family will hang out there. He already knows you’re too scared to even leave your room, so… he won’t suspect anything."
The plan indeed sounded good. And as your room was on the first floor, slipping away would be easy. The worst that could happen was a small scratch, but it seemed worth it to experience even the simplest moment of joy before leaving your friends for two months.
At the same time… the fear was eating you alive. The thought that he might somehow be able to track your location sent a shiver down your spine. Made your mind freeze, heart trying to leap from the tightened chest. You didn’t want to hear about any more murders. Didn’t want to befriend kind, innocent people who would meet a tragic end only because of the psychotic stalker who cared for you in his sick, twisted manner.
And yet, without a second thought, you nodded, drawing a squeak from Shoko’s beaming face. She pulled you into a tight, warm hug, a sweet fragrance of perfume and cigarette smoke wrapping around your senses.
"So get your ass up now and go take a shower," She said, pushing you towards the door. "I’ll prepare a little special outfit for our night out."
The bathroom was empty when you entered, but no one interrupted your long, warm shower. No heavy footsteps bounced off the tiled walls, and no one’s silky hair peeked down at your naked body. It felt almost unusual, yet you tried to enjoy this intimate moment of peace just as you used to, with the same melody hummed softly beneath the dripping rain and a sweet body wash lathering your skin.
Colours seemed to slowly spread across your cheeks, the purple smooched disappeared from under your eyes, and a heavy, relaxed breath escaped your throat.
The life, even for a slippery second, felt as if it was back under your control.
When you turned to the room, a small, shocked gasp rolled off your tongue.
"I am not wearing that!" You scowled, looking at the set Shoko prepared for you.
You had long forgotten about the tight, extremely short pink skirt and the sparkling white top that were hidden in your wardrobe. A set of white lingerie lay right next to them, and your heart almost stopped at the bra, thin enough to make your perked nipples visible through the flimsy top.
"What do you mean? You wore it so many times before!" she exclaimed, adding a pair of big hoops and milky-white heels. "Come on, don’t be a prude!"
"I’m not, but…" but what if some guy tries to talk to me, and he will be there, and…
"Nuh-uh, stop. I can read your thoughts," Shoko said, quickly wiping a towel over your naked body. Her chestnut eyes slid up and down your figure, a cheeky smile tugging at her lips. "Mhm, perfect. Dress up and let me do your make-up."
So after an hour and a long fight over the crimson lipstick that smudged your lips in an utterly whorish way, you and Shoko, under the sky blanketed in darkness, finally slipped away through the window. Bags fell onto the lawn first, heels following right after, only for your stupidly giggling lips to shush each other as you ran across campus.
Yuki and Shoko were already waiting outside, and when you saw them crouched behind the bushes, a loud, alive laugh filled the warm summer night.
"Why didn’t you wait in the car?" You asked, slipping into the passenger seat.
Yuki started the car, slowly reversing from the university’s car park. "For your entertainment, dear." She chuckled before pulling onto the main road.
After ten minutes of laughing and chit-chatting in the car, with music blasting from the speakers and Yuki’s cabriolet swooshing along the forest roads, you finally noticed the lights.
Red, orange, and purple, with a Ferris wheel looming over the dark, haunted house, rollercoasters, and multiple colourful booths filling the place with a mixture of burnt popcorn and sweet cotton candy. The tacky music beamed from the stickers, bouncing off the nearby lake, hidden just behind the deep forest.
Children, teenagers and students filled the park to the brim, with plastic red cups or paper boxes of food in their hands. Men tried to show off their muscles, hitting the high striker again and again until the golden bell buzzed with a red alarm, tickling your earlobes. A few squeaks escaped from the haunted house after a group of girls left it, laughing and giggling, while another group just entered, fear twisting their faces.
It seemed perfect, joyful and carefree, lifting a heavy burden from your shoulders and allowing you to experience a moment of happiness.
Shoko wrapped her arm around your shoulders and pulled you towards the entrance.
After an hour, you completely forgot about the terror that had haunted you for the past year. You couldn’t count the cans of beer you drank, the amount of caramel popcorn that filled your belly with sweetness, all the times you almost barfed on the rollercoaster, and your miserable attempts to win a plush toy in darts.
Some men looked behind their shoulders to sense a direction from which sugary laughter was coming. Some tried to talk to you, but all three girls were immediately taking you away from their clutches, knowing that the presence of another guy was the last thing you needed.
But then all of them left for the haunted house, which you refused to enter, and suddenly became easy prey. Easy enough for someone to come into your line of sight and let out a chuckle when another soft ball didn’t hit the moving object.
"I’m sorry, but you really suck at it," a low voice whispered in your ear, and you quickly looked over your shoulder.
A young man, surely your age, with coffee-coloured eyes that mingled like little stars and sandy hair brushed slightly back. He stood tall, with broad shoulders bulging beneath the blueish shirt. Muscular arms peeked from beneath the short sleeves, with a few creamy buttons revealing his warm chest.
Your lips pouted. "I’m not that bad."
"It’s the fourth time you lost it."
Sixth, almost slipped away, but instead, you let out a giggle.
His eyes scanned your face, taking in the loveliness warming your skin, before drifting towards a booth filled with plushies.
"So which one do you want?" He asked, giving the cashier a few dollars for another try.
You bit the plush inside of the cheek, pointing with a finger at the big, black cat with yellow eyes and a pinkish nose.
"He looks mischievous," a man murmured, nevertheless sending you a smile.
His legs spread a bit wider, and his body leaned over to get a better view of the moving cans.
"I like them a bit mischievous," you said, moving yourself to stand right next to him.
With a corner of the eye, you noticed his gaze on your warm cheeks, before he looked back towards the game. "I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m a nice guy."
The first ball flew, hitting right in the middle of the small can. You gasped, shooting your head towards him. To look at the cheeky smile and sandy brows curving up.
"You did not!"
He shrugged, rolling a chuckle. "Not bad, hm?"
Another three balls in his hand disappeared just as quickly. One by one, each hitting the can with force, until the metal cups fell to the ground. The cashier seemed just as surprised and charmed as you, watching the blue veins bulge on his forearms and squinting at the aim.
When the last can fell, you suddenly, without a further thought, grabbed his shoulders and started jumping with loud squeaks.
"Oh my god! Amazing!" The pure happiness lighting your face swelled his heart with pride as he pointed a finger at the big, black cat.
"Here you go, pretty," He said, a gentle rosiness kissing his lips as he pushed the plush into your arms.
A bit too small to hug it fully, slightly bigger than your chest.
"Pretty?" Fell rather cheeky, as you walked towards one of the benches.
The warm summer air coated your body, hair stuck to the glossed lips, and you noticed the way his finger curled into a fist, as if wishing to push those few strands away.
"Well, aren’t you?" He scratched the back of his neck at the poor attempt to crack a flirty joke.
And as heartwarming as it was, maybe a little cheesy, you smiled, nuzzling cheek into the soft fur of your new gift.
"Mhm, whatever you say, handsome."
This time, his lean cheeks blazed with colour. Eyes slipped over your shoulder, as if the loveliness of your eyes was simply too much to bear. Cute.
"I’m Nanami," he said, coffee eyes finally meeting yours once again. "I was watching you for a while and thought you were pretty…"
The shyness creeping up his neck melted your heart. He was handsome, of course he was, with a sharp jaw and sandy hair, a few golden strands as if licked by the sun's rays. Eyes deep and warm, like sweet cocoa, held the damnedest purity that men your age usually did not possess. Pale skin, coated with a sheen of sweat, fingers curling and straightening under the weight of your gaze.
You sat down on the nearby bench, nothing but a black cat keeping your thighs from touching each other.
"Are you trying to flirt with me, Nanami?" You asked, turning head his way.
"Is it working?"
You hummed, leaning closer with a devilish smile dancing on your lips. "I think you’re pretty cute."
Nanami turned out to be the utmost gentleman. Always paying attention to everything you said, listening with pricked ears and quick nods. Sometimes the conversation turned to him, but more often to you. And although you thought of yourself as a rather boring person, Nanami enjoyed every word that slipped past your lips.
He seemed rather boring, but kind, shy, and utterly curious about your persona. Making a pleasurable warmth bubble in your belly and a wicked need to coax him into your arms. To use him for your own satisfaction, as back in the days when you enjoyed spending your nights with men too good to hang out with girls of your sort.
And soon you started leaning closer. And closer, placing the cat on the other side of the bench, pressing your thighs together. He was sweetly, utterly aware of your presence. Of the sweetness that filled his nostrils, the warmth of your body and giggles kissing his earlobes.
"I was thinking…" fell sweetly, with your breasts stuck to his arm.
"Maybe we could move somewhere quieter?" A lovely pout formed on your lips, doe eyes lurking up from beneath the curtain of lashes. "There’s a lake nearby. And I could reaaally use a cold swim right now."
You felt a tremor slip down his spine. The goosebumps rising on the skin of his bicep, you curled fingers around. A bulge in his trousers that made your eyes twinkle and lips lift in a wicked smile.
"But you don’t h-have a swimsuit," he said, perfectly knowing how stupid his reasoning was.
Because the lack of a swimsuit was, indeed, the whole point of this secret meeting.
So when a low, "Do you mind?" Slipped past your lips, he quickly shook his head.
"Let’s meet in ten, then." You said, before walking away towards the hidden beach with a gentle sway of your hips and a big cat wrapped within your arms.
It was safer to meet there separately. The reasons were obvious, but Nanami didn’t need to know them. There was no need, as for the past few hours you had been carefully scanning the park for the dark, heavy shoes and their owner, a face that still haunted your dreams.
It seemed he truly had no idea of your whereabouts, so the invitation seemed quite safe. Nanami appeared too good to get himself tangled up in your whole mess, yet the egoistic, carnal need for pleasure was far stronger than the need to keep a clear mind.
The short path through the dark forest led you towards a small beach, with trees looming over the crystal water and the moon peeking through the thick branches. Crickets hummed a summer melody, gentle waves crashed over the soft sand and without a second thought, you started undressing yourself.
The top, skirt, heels, followed by the flimsy white lingerie. A shiver ran down your spine when you dipped your feet in the water. Lukewarm, but still cooling your body in such a pleasing way. You slowly went further, and further, till the lake wrapped around your hips and moonlight bounced off the crystal droplets gathering on your skin.
Soft sigh slipped past your lips as you immersed yourself fully, with only your head peeking over the calm surface.
After a while, you finally heard footsteps slowly coming towards the beach. Nanami was close, and so you went back to the shore, slowly, slowly, walking out of the lake, with beads coating your naked body. Hanging off the perked nipples, nuzzling into the collarbones, dripping down your pussy, and a sheer sight of you could make one recall legends of water nymphs. With a beauty that unlatched heaven itself, carrying a wicked spell that spiralled men into madness.
When the shadow lurked from between the bending trees, your lips curled. Head tilted, mind already imagined the fever that would hit his lovely, virgin cheeks.
"Nan–"
And yet, before the name could fully roll off your lips, your breath hitched instead.
Because the man who appeared in front of you wasn’t him. The kind boy you met just minutes ago.
No, but instead Satan himself. Demon, nightmare, a fiend plaguing your life since the year before.
With a tall, muscular body dressed in black, heavy shoes wrapped around his ankles, creamy skin drenched… in blood. Long fingers wrapped around the long knife, and this damned smile bubbled behind the lavender irises.
"You–" a shuddered breath escaped your tightened throat, body suddenly a lot more naked than it should.
Everything you showed, exposed, and wanted to offer wasn’t meant to be seen by him.
And Suguru Geto knew it. Oh, he knew too well, and that’s why the lavender gaze travelled up and down your body with a satisfaction.
"Hi, baby," he said, slightly tilting his head. "Why the surprised face? Have you waited for someone else?"
You didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to confirm the obvious. Instead, your hands lifted to cover the soaked breasts, eyes quickly fell on the clothes left messily on the sand. Four big steps and you could at least grab the lingerie.
But Suguru noticed the way your gaze wandered, and a small gasp escaped his lips. He was faster, with long legs carrying him to your panties before you could take a step, body still frozen in fear. With one hand gripping the knife, he bent over and grabbed the dirty panties with the other.
"Such a pretty set. All for me?" He giggled, lifting the material to his nose. You could hear a low moan as he took a deep, heavy sniff with utter pleasure. Pervert. "Fuck, baby. You always smell so fucking good." Before you could snap back, his tongue peeked out past the pierced lip, taking a long, moany lick of your juices, lavender eyes not leaving your face for a second. "And taste like heaven."
Something bubbled in your belly. A mix of emotions too strange to identify, making your mind spin into a fury and spine tingle with a craving too queer to admit. The sole fact that standing naked in front of your stalker felt…
"Where’s Nanami?" you added quickly, trying to ignore the way your thighs clenched the moment Suguru moaned around your panties.
He took a step closer, coming your way at an unhurried pace. Panties hidden in the back pocket of his jeans, a thumb brushing away your juice, mixed with a crimson liquid on his cheek.
Suguru shrugged, eyes still fixed on your face. "Who?"
Your fingers turned into fists, as "What did you do to him, psycho?" fell through the gritted teeth.
But the gentle crease appearing between your brows melted Suguru’s heart. Low chuckle bounced off the calm water, as he was only a few steps away. If he wanted to, he could simply extend his hand and grab you by the neck.
"Baby, I really thought you learned your lesson," an angelic pout twisted his lips, as he pressed the drenched knife to his cheek. "Let me think… are you talking about the guy who was coming to see you? Blond, slightly shorter than me?"
When a terror flickered behind your gaze, his eyes lightened. "Ah, so that was him? Well, I didn’t like the fact that he was coming to meet my girl," Lavender irises dropped down to your breasts covered by your hands, before slipping towards the soft belly, hips, mound of your pussy, with a low growl tickling your ears. "Fuck, baby. I’m so happy this fucker’s dead. I can’t believe–"
Before Suguru could finish, you took a step.
And the next one, and another, before your palm met with his cheek. You didn’t expect the hit to be that hard, and yet he stumbled and fell on the soft sand. With a shock crossing his face and hand lifting to grab his burning skin.
"Bab–"
You launched towards him, your hips straddling his, palms pressing his shoulders down until his head hit the ground. Everything felt too weird, unnatural, as burning rage took over your mind and adrenaline pulsed beneath your skin.
Another slap echoed from the looming trees, and when his head flew to the left, you quickly turned it right with the next hit. And the next, next, counting each man who died because of you. The jock, the kind guy, the diner waiter, the student from the library… Nanami.
One hit more ruthless than another, but the adrenaline cooed over the sizzling pain that ripped your palms. No tears ran down your face, no trembling washed over your spine.
It was a wrath that had been simmering beneath your heart for months and finally found a way to spill in a deeply dishonourable way, leaving you filled with disgust for the violence he forced upon you.
When you finally finished, with deep breaths slipping one by one through your parted lips and eyes looking down at his face, a sort of peace dripped into your mind. Upon seeing a thin thread of blood trickling down his lips and a nasty, lavender bruise slowly forming high on cheeks.
He lay still with a mix of shock and absolute, loving madness that slipped in a shudder past the bloody traces on his face.
If Suguru Geto had thought he already loved you those few minutes before, now, with your naked body straddling his and cheeks pulsing from a beating he had himself awakened in you – he wasn’t sure whether love was enough to describe the devotion his heart swelled with.
Your breasts rose with deep breaths, lips slightly parted, while your hands still pressed his shoulder into the sand. And before he could speak, your finger hooked around his lip piercing, pulling him forward as pain shot through every nerve the metal had struck.
"Stop fucking testing me," you growled, with squinted eyes looking straight into his. "Think you’re so smart? I know your psychotic ass is too miserable to lay a finger on me. Pull another stunt like that and I’ll fucking kill you," you launched him forward, without a care whether the lip ring would rip through the skin. "Do you understand?"
He quickly nodded, but the heart-shaped irises were enough to raise another wave of fury beneath your chest.
And when he thought you would stand up and simply walk away, leaving him on a sand with a blood trickling down his chin and a hard cock trying to rip through his pants, you…
Kissed him. Smashed your lips against his, licking clean the crimson liquid pooling on his skin.
Suguru was already taken by surprise, but now, feeling your warmth so close to his body, he could swear that heaven was nowhere but in the taste of your sweet breath.
He moaned, drinking the saliva dripping from your lips and feeling the wet pussy rolling against his bulging jeans. Your hands lifted to his cheeks, squeezing them tight till another pitiful groan slipped right into your mouth.
And when his big palms landed on your hips, you pulled back, giving him yet another slap. "Don’t fucking touch me, you psycho."
Your words fell harshly, but the desire bubbling in your lower belly and sticky juices coating his jeans were enough evidence to make you feel utterly, madly turned on by the miserable state he allowed you to put him in.
"Baby, fuck, sit on my face, I’m begging you," he moaned, looking down at the long, silky thread that dripped down from your cunt right onto his bulge.
The sheer sight made his mind spin, and when you moved over his face, Suguru was sure that blood started dripping from his nose.
"I don’t care if you’ll suffocate, but you better make me cum," you stated, looking down into his dazed eyes.
Knowing fully well that the death between your thighs would bring him the peace he did not deserve.
With one move, you sat yourself on his face, tongue already peeking out and plastered to meet the heavenly sweetness of your cunt. A low, loud groan filled your drenched walls as he could finally savour the flavour he had craved for so long.
Lavender eyes rolled back, muscular body trembled as you sat with your full weight, till his teeth grazed your swollen clit and tongue sealed the leaking entrance. He drank the honeyed saps like a man starved, lapping through your folds with low moans and shallow breaths. Getting himself intoxicated by the creaminess trickling down his throat and coating the inside of plush cheeks with a sheen of sugar.
His hand immediately slipped down to his cock, fiddling with a belt, only to pull out a massive, leaking shaft that hit his abdomen. You looked over your shoulder, mouth watering at the sheer sight of the monstrosity he dared to keep hidden all this time.
He did offer to be your boy toy, and maybe, maybe, you would think it over, knowing the fatness that could poke each and every nerve deep inside your pussy.
When his lips curled around your clit, sucking on the swollen button, your hips rolled in pleasure.
"Fuck," you moaned, feeling a smirk already tugging on his bloody lips.
The metal rings felt slightly cold, bringing a weird pleasure to the heat that ripped you from the inside.
His long fingers curled around the thick shaft, pumping it in slow, lazy strokes. The reddened head pulsed as if ready to burst, balls contracted whenever your hips rolled over and over again, smearing his chin, cheeks, nose in a creamy cum.
His tongue fluttered around your clit, folds, poking inside the tightening cunt. When his other hand slipped up to grab your tit, you allowed it with a soft groan. Long fingers rolled the hardened nipple, squeezing the fat that fit into his palm just right.
"My sweetest," he pulled slightly away, forcing a frown upon your lovely forehead. "That desperate to get fucked, huh? I’m sorry my baby needed to wait that long."
It could look as if he was talking to you, but, in fact, his squinted eyes were nowhere but on your glistening pussy. With another wave of cum already sticking to his lips and lonely hole clenching desperately around nothing.
"My–"
"Stop talking," you muttered, grabbing a fistful of his silky hair, only to push him towards your cunt. "I’m far from cumming."
And he did as you ordered, plastering himself again to the heaven between your legs.
This time, he lapped more hungrily. With lips, tongue, nose poking all your sweetest buds, sucking on the trembling clit and pushing, pushing, pushing inside the weeping cunt. Each roll of your hips tugged painfully on his piercing, but he didn’t mind.
No, but rather took a carnal pleasure from the heaviness of your body, feeling that dangerous warmth bubbling in his loins.
And you were no better, with head falling behind and eyes closing from the ecstasy that was ready to spill any second. Looking back on his cock, you moaned, already imagining the fat, leaking shaft nuzzled deep inside your pussy. With a slightly curved head hitting your womb and a warm cum filling you to the brim.
"Oh fuck, I’m close," an almost inaudible whisper rolled off your tongue, but Suguru caught it in time.
With a sly smirk and lips sucking on your clit harsher, till the plumped bud trembled on his tongue, leaking a few droplets of sap.
His face turned red, for you really cut the air off and made him suffer in pleasure, strangled beneath your oozing cunt. Eyes rolled back again, a low groan spread through your pussy, sending another wave of climax down your spine.
And within the next few rolls and his tongue digging deep inside your soft walls – you finally cummed. Gushed, all over his face, drenching it in splatters of crystal droplets, landing in his mouth, on cheeks, dripping down the forehead. Your thighs squeezed around his head, a pitched moan left parted lips, and fingers grabbed his hair tighter.
You trembled, and trembled, feeling the ambrosial orgasm tickle your spine. Probably the first and best given to you through oral sex alone.
And as embarrassing as it was to admit, Suguru was, by far, the only man who made you moan that loud.
You didn’t have a moment to catch your breath. No strength to lift yourself up from his body. And to him it was of no problem, as the second later, the world spanned only for you to find yourself under him.
With thighs glued to your chest and ass slightly lifted up.
"I told you–"
His lips fell onto yours before you could finish, drawing a sweet moan from your throat.
"My poor baby is in heat," he muttered, licking a long stripe of your sweating cheek. "Let me take care of you. You waited so fucking long, didn't you?"
"And whose fault is that?" You snapped, feeling his smirk back onto your lips.
He kissed you messily, yet with a sweetness and care you would never associate with a psycho of his sort.
"I told you," he started, pulling away to take his shirt off. Muscles upon muscles glistened under the moonlight spilling through the trees, dark locks cascading down to his hips. "You will regret rejecting my love."
His trousers quickly joined the shirt on the sand, and soon he was hanging over you naked. With a heavy cock lying on your belly and droplets of precum leaking onto your belly button. It burned down through your skin – the hefty girth that made your mind spin from the sight alone.
He didn’t cum, as if waiting to release himself deep within the warmth of your pussy, and his next "Last time you mentioned something about getting knocked up, hm?", only confirmed the nasty thoughts already bubbling in your skull.
"Don’t know how to use a condom?" You bit down on lower lip, deep inside knowing that you yourself would throw that condom away.
There was simply no way you would pass up a chance to feel such a monstrous shaft deep inside you. His big palms hook under your thighs, folding you even further, till the breath alone slipped in trembled gasps and chest squeezed under the heaviness of his body.
And yet, you still tried to expose yourself even further, moving your hips in desperate need to meet the long-craved fraction and the maddening stretch. It felt so embarrassing, humiliating, to get yourself drunk on the pleasure that tickled your fingertips and made your lips fall open.
Dizziness already coiled behind your eyes, and Suguru could see it clearly. In the way you looked at his leaking cock, with this slutty, needy gaze.
"Do you want me to use it, baby?" He chuckled, leaning himself down. Only lick a long stripe down your neck, feeling the sweat tickle his taste buds. "Tell me you don’t dream about getting fucked raw and stupid."
A moan slipped past your lips when the head of his cock smooched your entrance, and lips sucked on sensitive skin right beneath your jaw. "Just do it already, fuck."
"Tell me you love me," He murmured, teeth grazing one of your pulsing veins. "Tell me you’ll stay, and I promise to give you everything."
Hips already rolling, as you tried to get yourself closer to his fatness. To the tip that oozed with sticky precum and the heat radiating from his cock.
A pathetic mewl escaped your throat as he sank himself a bit deeper. But only the plump head, that already marked the painful stretch you would surely get after the rest of the shaft followed.
"Stop dreaming, you psycho," you gritted through your teeth, pushing out even more of the cum that wrapped in a creamy ring around his cock. You stretched your hand, taking a fistful of his hair, only to pull him closer. Till your lips crashed in another kiss, the dried blood sticking to your maws. "Fuck me stupid, and I’ll think about it."
And Suguru, as desperate as he was, needed only those few, mean words to shove his massive shaft deep inside your pussy.
A loud scream bounced off the trees, soon muffled by his lips, drinking in every cry, every moan that started spilling out.
The stretch was as painfully ecstatic as you expected, spinning your mind with drowsiness and rolling eyes into the skull. He filled every corner, every fold of your plush hole, till the reddened head smooched your womb. You trembled from head to toe upon a sudden intrusion, and the way he immediately started moving.
Pushing, thrusting, shoving his cock till the balls squelched against your lifted ass, and nasty splashing filled the little beach. He kept you in place, with muscular arms folding you in half and lips licking, sucking, and biting on the sensitive skin of your neck. Chest plastered to your nipples, brushing the perked buds each time he rammed his cock inside your weeping cunt.
The air felt sticky and steamy, with the sweetness of your breaths mixing whenever another moan slipped past your lips, and Suguru watched carefully as pleasure twisted your face.
The ethereal beauty that warmed your cheeks, eyes lidded in delight, a stream of spit dripping down your chin, before he licked it with a low, nasty groan.
"Fuck, baby, I waited so long," He muttered, mind spinning into madness whenever your plush cunt clamped on his cock. "So hungry, weren't you?"
When his fingers slipped between your bodies, only to press against your clit, a pitched, "Mmm y-yeah, fuck, I hate you so much," rolled right into his smirking lips.
He chuckled, shoving his shaft faster, deeper, till a small bulge appeared right under your belly button. "Do you? Because I thought you, ugh, liked them a bit mischievous, huh?"
You heard those words somewhere before. Maybe because they were the same words said to Nanami.
But then, with his cock stuffing you, nasty, full and plush lips caressing yours, you couldn’t give a single fuck about how he knew about them. The only thing that mattered was his heavy, beefy body pressed to yours, leaving barely any space for the warm air that desperately tried to slip between your sweating skins.
"Suguru," a lovely mewl escaped your throat when his curved tip hit your sweet spot inside. Ramming into it relentlessly, with a force that drove your body into the sand. "So, oh god, you fill me so good."
His lips met your jaw, chin, lavender eyes tracing each scowl of your face. "You love it, don’t you, baby?" Big thumb rolled the swollen clit, pulling another pinched moan from your throat. "I know, baby, you love it so fucking much. And if I’ll do this," He rammed his tip against your spot again, before nuzzling it right against the plumped womb. "You will cum very, very soon."
And he was right. Pushing all your buttons, kneading your body in all the right places as if he knew exactly how to make a warmth bubble in your belly.
Fingers of one hand dug painfully into the backs of your thighs as you opened them even further, letting him slip into you even deeper.
"Talk to me, baby." He ordered, feeling the erratic clenching of your walls. "Tell me how much you love me."
"I love it–ahhh," rolled instead, and you could feel a dissatisfied tsk bouncing off your chin.
"No, baby," his teeth sank into your neck, his thumb pressing on your clit even harder. "Come on, baby, tell me how much you fucking love me. I’ll kill every man you’ll ever try to talk to. Hell, I’ll slash your pretty friends’ throats if they try to keep me away from you." Each nasty word was marked by a more brutal roll of his lips. Till the sweet pleasure of smooching your womb soon turned into your painful cries. "Say it, say that you love me."
The warmth in your lower belly was ready to spill, head lulled to the side only to be brought back by his lips, tugging harshly on yours. He bit into them, then licked the swell with a coo, as if trying to coax you into the madness-confession he had waited so long for.
And you, wrapped around the heavy weight of his cock inside your cunt and the way he made your feet curl in pleasure, finally, unfortunately, had given up.
"Suguru, I love you–nghh–s-so fucking much," a sweet mewl slipped past your lips. "So good, fuck, you feel so fucking good. I love you, love you, love you, love you–"
Your desperate cries were muffled by his low groan, dripping into your throat, as he finally stilled.
With cock kissing your womb, lips lick the tears rolling in the corners of your eyes and a thumb pinching the trembling clit.
You came with a loud cry, squirting all over his beefy thighs, abdomen, soaking the trembling shaft that started filling your clamping walls with waves and waves of cum. Its stickiness glueing to your soft insides, creamy droplets plugging you so full, till the milky threads spilled from the rim of your cunt.
And in the brief moment when Suguru Geto let his guard down, your fingers seized the long knife left messily on the sand and, with a single furious thrust, drove it deep into his left thigh.
A low groan slashed through the air when the shimmering iron struck his thick muscles, sending a painful wave over his spine.
You rolled his heavy body off, milky cum still dripping down your thighs and eyes…
Eyes looking no better than his. With heart-shaped irises glancing down at his body wrinkling in pain, with a sweet giggle, as you finally felt the winning pleasure spreading all over your chest.
His naked, muscular figure sprawled on the sand, cock already getting hard once again, upon seeing the bloody, sticky mess you left on him. Lavender gaze gazed up to you with a swelling devotion, and you needed to grit your teeth not to give him one last slap.
Instead, you started dressing yourself, slowly, with eyes squinted and lips tugged by a sly smile.
"I should fucking kill you," tickled his ears, and he could only give you a short nod. "But it would be a waste of resources," your eyes slipped onto his already leaking cock.
"I’ll come over tonight, baby," he mumbled, wrapping his hand around your ankle. If he could, he would crawl behind you, but the pain slashing through his thigh was already spiralling him into dizziness. "Fucking, wait for me, I’ll come over."
"I’ll be taking a shower in two hours, and I expect to see you there," you said with a final low hum and a tilt of your head, before walking away.
And Suguru… he had to jerk himself twice before he could finally stand up, swaying and pain swirling droplets of sweat on his neck. Yet, neither death nor such a minor injury could ever keep him away from his sweet, precious girl.
You know what, I kind feel sorry for Nanami... anyways, pyramidhead Toji next! I haven't written Toji for such a long time! I hope you enjoyed the first story <3
sinners but giving up on being a human is nothing compared to life without your husband
I'll be in a minute, he said. Baby, don't worry, I'll take the car and we'll go back home.
But when Suguru left the barn, he didn't know what would happen mere minutes later.
He didn't know that some strange people would try to get inside, and dear neighbours who used to visit your little shop would suddenly turn mad.
"A vampires," Shoko murmured, staring at the man you've just killed.
His head cracked open by a hammer that Gojo brought upon it, and bloodshot eyes still staring at your trembling figure.
"A what?" Utahime asked, trying to lurk outside the barn, before Shoko quickly pulled her back in.
"You can't go out, they may be everywhere," she hissed, looking at everyone in the circle.
You, Satoru with blood smeared over his cheek, Choso walking back and forth in nervousness, Utahime choking on a cry, Sukuna looking for the guns and bullets and Toji, grabbing an axe from the basement.
"So what do we do?" Satoru asked, trying to clean his crimson cheeks with a flannel shirt.
Shoko frowned, glancing over her shoulder as if trying to assess the shitshow you've just found yourself in.
Your local witch. Shaman. A hag, as some old fucks liked to call her. But the only one who kept a clear mind.
"Gather the garlic, crosses and silver – anything you can find," her voice was stern, and eyes went back to the rest of you. "And on no account talk to them or invite them in."
Everyone started to scramble, walking around the barn and barricading the doors, just to close yourself off from the those devils.
"W-wait," you cried, grabbing her hand. "Suguru, what about Suguru? He went to the car and–"
"And you should hope he's back home," Satoru murmured, looking somewhere over your shoulder.
As if waiting for the raven-haired man to turn the corner any minute.
Your cheeks burned in anger, fists clenched. "He's my husband, I cannot leave him."
Satoru frowned, his eyes reflecting the same pain that filled yours. "And he's my best friend. But do you think we have another option?"
You stood face to face, both huffing and puffing while the chaos around you erupted.
How was it possible that within the mere hours everything suddenly turned upside down?
Just a while ago, Suguru's hands were still on your hips, swaying you both softly to the gentle hum of the piano. Dark hair swinging every time he swirled you, heavy smell of cologne hugging your body sweetly, homely, as if the world ended at the end of his fingertips. He laughed jolly, till his chest trembled and warm breath tickled your ear. Your lovely giggles made his eyes curve like a moon, and fingers dug softly into his plush hair.
As long as it was two of you, the rest didn't matter.
The opening of the new bar in your small town was meant to help you blow off some steam.
With singers and dancing, Gojo behind the piano and Sukuna serving disgustingly strong drinks.
With empty rooms where you secretly shared kisses, drunkenly, madly in love, while Suguru's hands drifted over your body. The curve of your hips, the swell of your breasts, honeyed moans he swallowed every time you clenched around his length and giggled softly in fear someone would her you.
But no one did.
Because no one mattered as much as him.
So how–
"Hi baby."
Everyone suddenly froze.
You, with your back turned towards the barn door. Satoru, with his ocean eyes, looking over your shoulder. Shoko gripping a bunch of garlic, and Sukuna pointing the rifle at your husband.
You turned slowly, seeing Suguru walking towards the bar with one hand in his pocket and the other swirling car keys around the finger. He looked normal, healthy, with the same handsome smile and deep purplish eyes tracing your cherry cheeks. Dressed in a clean, white shirt, with sleeves rolled up through his muscular forearms and hair kissed gently by a night's wind.
"Baby, come on. It's time to go home."
Your feet started moving, and a hand reached out, as if something in your bones reacted instinctively to your husband's gentle call.
But before you took a step, Satoru pulled you back.
"Satoru–"
"Let him come inside willingly," he whispered, careful not to make a direct invite.
Suguru came closer, with a smile not leaving his face and a chuckle bubbling in his throat. You looked at his relaxed body, with long legs drawing nearer and nearer, creamy skin coated in droplets of sweat after hours of dancing, until he... stopped.
"Baby, I thought you were tired," he laughed, tilting head. A few black strands nuzzled against his cheeks.
"I am, but..." come inside, you wanted to say, but Satoru tightened his grip on your wrist.
"But what? Let's go, we still have a long way to go."
You glanced back, seeing your friends standing still, as if awaiting the sentence. Shoko walked to your side, throwing a single head of garlic his way.
A whitish ball rolled on the ground, stopping near Suguru's leather shoes.
"Shoko, what are you doing?" he asked with amusement. "Why is everyone so–"
"Take it," she said.
Suguru frowned. "Why?"
"Just take it."
His raven hair shook, but body dipped down, taking a dirty ball between fingers. "And what now?"
Yeah, what now?
Shoko didn't know.
None of you knew.
Because him not reacting hurtfully to garlic could mean two things:
One, he truly wasn't a vampire, and you needed to take him in quickly.
And two, the vampires of this sort were much more powerful than Shoko expected.
You turned her way. "Should we–"
"No, he must come inside willingly," Shoko murmured, glancing at Suguru carefully.
He threw the garlic away, sighing in irritation. "Baby, what's going on? Let's go, I'm getting tired too."
You shuddered as your heart tore apart under his pledging gaze.
There was something wrong.
But wrong in the way the world sometimes goes quiet before a storm, when even the air feels a little heavier.
Suguru stood there, just a few steps away from the barn doors, shoulders slightly slumped with exhaustion, hair damp against his neck. He looked like he always did after a long day – a little tired, a little impatient, entirely yours.
"Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?" he muttered. "It’s cold, I’m tired, and you’re all staring at me like I grew a second head."
"Sugu, I... how about we stay for a while, hm? I'm a bit thirsty, you see," you said softly, fiddling with your fingers.
His head tilted, jaw clenched. "Oh, really?"
There was a moment of silence, with his eyes tracing yours – glassy, shattered, hopeful.
"Then why don't you invite me for a drink, baby?"
Oh. How much you've hoped to not hear those words.
To keep believing that your husband was still yours, watching you with the same loving gaze and warm smile that slashed through your heart.
"Baby," he said more quietly now, "why are you shaking?"
You hadn’t realized you were.
Your hands trembled at your sides, breath uneven, heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else.
Because now you saw it.
The stillness.
The way his chest didn’t quite move.
The way the cold seemed to cling to him, like he had carried something back from wherever he had been.
"You’re not coming in," your head shook, eyes clamped down, as if looking at your husband was too hurtful. Satoru embraced you, slowly, slowly, pulling you away from the doors.
Suguru frowned, biting down the laugh that tried to push through his lips. "Satoru, I think you're forgetting yourself."
"Sorry, man," he whispered, tightening hands on your shoulders. "Sukuna, could you?"
The man came closer, with a rifle directed right at your husband.
Your eyes suddenly widened, breath hitched, head pounded, as if hit by a hammer.
No.
No, no, no, no.
Before Sukuna could pull the trigger, you released yourself from Satoru's merciless grip and run towards the door.
Toward your Suguru.
"Wait!" Shoko tried to grab you, but everything happened too fast.
The shooting, your scream, Suguru's widening eyes.
A sudden pain piercing your chest, feet slipping outside the barn and finally, finally, those warm arms that grabbed you before Satoru could.
For a moment, there was no sound.
No gunshot echo, no screaming, no Shoko calling your name.
Just him.
Suguru.
Holding you.
Behind you, chaos erupted again – Satoru shouting, Shoko cursing, Sukuna lowering the rifle with a quiet, almost annoyed click – but it all blurred into nothing.
Because Suguru was looking at you like you were dying.
"Hey, baby," he tried to smile, pulling you closer to his chest. Cold fingers pushed away lost strands from your forehead, thumb circling over your pale lips. "Baby, what's wrong? Hey, talk to me, hm?" his voice broke, hands trembling as they pressed against your back, your side, your chest – where it hurt.
His hands shook harder as he tried to find the wound, to stop the bleeding, to fix something he didn’t understand.
But you saw it.
The truth.
In the way his skin felt colder than it should.
In the way his breath didn’t quite match yours.
In the way your pulse felt too loud.
Too bright.
Too alive against something that wasn’t.
Your fingers curled tighter into him. "Suguru…"
He glanced at you instantly.
With those oh so lovely eyes, now slightly wet and shimmering, as if cursed by the stars themselves. Your hand lifted up, pushing away raven hair that stuck to his forehead.
"I don’t think…" your voice faltered, breath hitching painfully. "I don’t think I can stay."
His expression shattered.
"No," he whispered sharply, with a slow shake of his head and first tears dripping down your chin. "No, baby, it's fine. It's okay, I'll help you, hm? Let me just bite you," you shuddered, as if in protest, but Suguru closed your lips with a gentle kiss. "Don't worry, it won't hurt. Baby it won't hurt, I promise."
Before you could answer, another voice chipped in. "Don't listen to him! You'll be damned for eternal life," Shoko's head dipped slightly from the barn. "You'll never again feel the warmth of the sun, never eat anything but human flesh. It's better to die than–"
Your crimson hand traced Suguru's pale cheek, smearing the blood all over his velvety skin. He looked beautiful, mesmerising, almost the same as just a few hours ago, while dancing with you, surrounded by nothing but deep laughter and music.
You giggled, remembering his shiny eyes and hands that swirled your body like a doll. Hips swinging to soft piano and head nuzzling against your neck. The sweetest kisses traced down your skin, before your soft laughter tickled his nerves pleasantly.
"I'd rather be damned than go through this life without you," you whispered, tracing his crushed expression.
He gripped your hand, pushing it against his lips. Soft kisses melted away all the pain that withered in your chest. Purplish eyes tried to memorise your lovely face, fingers pulling you closer to his chest, heart... not beating.
But deep down, you knew that he was still your husband.
Your Suguru.
With eyes curving like a moon and a gentle, weeping smile crossing his face. Raven hair curling around your face like a curtain, when he lowered down. Lips catching yours in a sweet, metallic kiss, almost as lovely as one you shared on your wedding day.
And now, he could be yours forever. As long as rays of sunshine stayed hidden, the world had not barriers.
Although yours would always end up somewhere between the end of his fingertips and deep laughter that inflamed your heart.
"Then let us both be damned," he whispered.
I absolutely loveeeed the scene with Bo and his wife in the Sinners. Although I would definitely come back to him lmao.
You absolutely hate these weirdoes, always looming grimy on campus and getting in your way. That's why you have no idea why you have agreed to join your best friend, Shoko, for a goth concert. No idea why this emo (goth?) freak makes your belly turn, and how the hell did you end up on a bathroom's dirty floor, choking on his cock.
pairings: Goth!Geto x Bimbo!Reader
content/warnings: MDNI! 18+, smut, college au, Goth!Geto, Bimbo!Reader, blowjob, throatfucking, Geto is exactly where he wants to be, mean reader, masturbation, blowjob in a bathroom lmao, smut and fluff
WC: 4k
a/n: I'm so pathethically weak for goth men uhhh
divider by @kodaswrld
art by @/saturinado on TikTok (sorry mama it took so long!!!)
"What did you just say?" you screamed into your phone, trying to hear your friend over the crowd’s noise and chatter. "I can’t see you, how to get in?"
"I’ve sent you the tickets, you should have them in the message!" Her voice was almost dimmed, with the signal cutting off every few seconds, as she had already waited for you inside the building.
A group of young women fully in black looked at you with quiet laughter and hidden whispers between one another. Faces painted all white, grimaced with black lips lifting in a mocking smile, and you could only clench your fists till long nails dug into your palm.
Oh fuck all of you, stupid, dirty hoes, no circus needed new clowns?
Your short, pink skirt flowed together with a shaking leg, white shoes hugging your skin up till knees and one heel tapping pissed off with a long stiletto onto the ground. You went through your phone again, looking for a ticket Shoko had sent you.
It was the third time you've tried to ask yourself why the hell you agreed to her pleadings.
You didn’t even listen to emo (wait no, goth? punk?) music and honestly couldn’t care less about the favourite band of your friend coming to the town. Being friends with a weirdo like her was truly enough, bearing all her dreary outfits and depressing music, makeup which made her look ready to lie in a coffin, and other freaks she hung out with.
However, Shoko was relentless in her begging — almost praying on her hands and knees, promising to join you for a shopping spree she hated so much and even letting herself be invited for one of those sleepovers with your other friends she absolutely despised.
Because, after all, all the differences between you both couldn’t win against the power of your long friendship and being best friends since you taught her how to use eyeliner in middle school. You were her closest friend, and because all of her other creepy buddies didn't listen to this band, you ought to fulfil your best-friend duty and join her for a concert. She even bought you tickets, doing everything in her power just to drag your ass here. Her cute, bimbo friend, standing currently in front of the club like a freak dressed in an outfit those scarecrows surely labelled as whorish.
"Listen, one of the guys I’ve met inside said his friend will get you. He should be there soon."
So you did meet someone! Why the hell am I still needed?
Questions bubbled in your throat, but if you already dragged your ass here, there was no point in not joining her for probably the worst night of your life.
Heavy sight slipped your lips, eyes following the mess in front of you. People dressed in long, black coats, faces white as death, some of them with piercings in almost every corner of their lips, drinking and smoking in groups, glancing towards the lamb, a lost kitten waiting for her rescue. You caught a faint whiff of grey smoke, rubbing your eyes and throat.
It seemed that the supporting band had already started playing, with heavy, depressing music becoming even louder and screams on the other side of the line fully muffling Shoko’s voice.
"Will he know what I loo—" but before you could ask, someone tapped your shoulder.
You glanced back, hair swaying with a turn of your head, forehead furrowed in annoyance and throat still burning from all the smoke.
"What do you want, freak?" Your voice came out harsher than you intended, but your head was already pulsing from all the noise, and those trashy bitches still looking your way!
And right behind you stood a guy – at least a head taller and dressed in heavy black clothing. Long hair dripped down to his chest, a few strands tucked behind an ear, with a white-painted face and black makeup edging eyes, looking as if swirling down his cheeks.
You seized him with your eye, up and down, from long legs to broad shoulders, as you pushed your hips to one side and gracefully placed on them your pink nails.
His brows furrowed, dark eyes glancing between your plumped tits in a white, tight top and glittery lips. You noticed a piercing in his nose and two pointy snake-bites, glistening from beneath his black lipstick.
"Hello?" You asked once again, seeing his throat moving.
"Apparently, your friend asked me to bring you inside, ummm," he finally choked out, taking phone out. You've caught multiple rings hugging his long fingers, as he turned the screen your way. "Look for a bambi and bring her inside, that’s the message I’ve got." He peeked at you again, eyes tracing your outfit with a raised eyebrow. "I guess he meant bimbo."
This fucker.
"That’s you?"
You snorted, catching him fidgeting under your gaze. "See anyone else looking like a doll?"
He, once again, glanced at you, leaving his gaze a bit longer on a long necklace sitting warmly between your plush tits and long stilettos, definitely not proper to wear for a concert.
"I don’t think so," he murmured, a faint sigh escaping his lips. "I’m Suguru, by the way."
He moved forward, taking you right to the long line in front of the entrance.
Crossing hands on your chest, you mumbled your name. A sudden shudder going through your spine when warm wind grazed the skin.
Maybe your outfit indeed was too light for this weather.
Suguru stood in front of you – tall and broad, with a long coat hugging his back tightly, heavy boots clutching legs up to his calves, filled with so many metal accessories, a faint clacking filled the air every time he took a step.
But somehow, he stood out among the other freaks in a line, with his sharp jaw and intense gaze. Corners of his black lips turning in a smirk, seeing your pouty lip and body moving closer to his, just to get a bit of warmth.
"So," he started, moving slowly together with a line. "Why exactly are you here?"
You sighed, tucking a lost strand of hair behind your ear. "My stupid best friend said she had no one to go with. But as it turned out, she already met someone, well, your friend, and I don’t know why the fuck I’m still needed."
He chuckled, seeing how, nevermind of your furrowed brows and eyes sending thunder his way, your body moved even closer. The evening was warm, but you shivered when a gust of wind skimmed your skin again.
"People usually go to such concerts alone. It's not uncommon to meet someone already inside," you moved in line, your heels two steps behind his heavy boots, people slightly pushing you from the back. He grabbed your arm and moved you to the front, covering your figure with his muscular body and long, black coat. "Try to stay close till we don't find them. Their concerts tend to be quite intense, I would say."
There was something within him that still pushed you away, the eariness of his white face and black pain surrounding his purplish eyes, but you nevertheless appreciated the gesture. His hand was heavy on your shoulder when he pushed you forward, showing the bodyguard your tickets.
The man looked at you first, with eyes wandering over your body, staying a bit longer on pushed out breasts and plump lips covered by a lip gloss. He smiled disgustingly, leaving you with a frown and words, the fuck you're looking at, creep, bubbling in your throat. Your shoulders tensed under Suguru's hand, but he quickly forced you inside, seeing long tips of your fingers clenched in a fist.
"Please try not to start fights with people twice bigger than you," He said and chuckled, hearing your groan.
"If I won't fight for myself, who will?" You murmured, going further into the club. It was darker than you expected, with a narrow corridor taking you directly to the bar and main scene, music blasting from the speakers and dimmed light not helping you walk in these hills at all.
"I would," He said it so casually, with his hand still loosely placed on your shoulder and eyes glued to something in front. "If he put his fingers on you, I would gladly break them."
A faint oh fled your lips, soft rosiness may or may not have bloomed on your cheeks, with a club, thank god, being too dark to let this freak notice.
You walked right next to him, with his muscular arm at some point hugging your waist and pulling you closer, when his tall body started to push through the dense, drunk crowd, jumping, yelling and wringing their bodies to a supporting band playing on a small stage. The inside of the club was worse than you expected, with cigarette smoke rubbing your teary eyes, plastic cups crinkling on the sticky floor under your heels, and furrowed, pierced brows peeking your way. Oh, you will make Shoko pay for taking you through this hell.
But as much as you hated it, with a trashy music bugging your ears and terrifying faces jumping on you from every corner of the room, something warm coiled in your belly when Suguru brought you a bit closer, tighter, his fingers pushing into the bare skin of your waist and musky smell hugging you tightly. Eyes glanced down at you every few seconds, black lips curling in a smirk, seeing how lost you've felt.
"What are you looking at, freak?" you choked out, rosiness not leaving your cheeks even for a second.
"You good there, bambi?" He chortled, but you didn't answer, tracing the crowd around you just to find Shoko.
"There," Suguru pointed out at the bar on the other side of the room, with Shoko and some guy sitting on stools. They whispered something to one another, the guy's space-buns shaking when he laughed, looking so stupidly you wanted nothing but to groan and roll your eyes.
You stepped slowly, with Suguru's arm on your waist and long hair grazing the top of your head, black ends almost tickling your cheek, when the crowd squeezed you a little tighter.
"Go on bambi, we need to push forward," He whispered straight to your ear, voice faint against the band's music, nevertheless low enough to make your stomach twist.
Oh, dearly you regretted dragging your ass to this fucking concert!
"Y/n, finally, you're here!" Shoko quickly grabbed your hand, taking you away from Suguru's embrace and pulled you into a quick, giggly hug.
She was already drunk.
"Here, meet Choso!" She pointed at the guy sitting next to her, with makeup not that different from Suguru's. His pale lips twisted in a polite smile, eyes looked at you shyly, tracing the outfit with a quite amazed gaze.
"You would surely bully me in high school," He choked out, making Shoko giggle while you rolled your eyes.
"She wouldn't! We've been friends for sooo long, she's actually nice," Shoko said, forgetting to add that you, in fact, tolerated only her, always keeping yourself away from similar weirdos on your campus, while Suguru pushed something into your hand.
You didn't even notice when he ordered drinks, fingers grazing yours when you took the glass.
"By the way, thank you, Suguru, for bringing her inside," Shoko said, head slightly tilted on one side, fingers clasped around an already empty glass. "I was so scared she would go back home!"
"I have no idea why I didn't do it," you murmured, taking a sip of probably the worst beer you've ever had. Your nose scrunched in a little frown, shivers dripping down your spine, while Suguru quickly took the glass out of your hand.
"Here, I must've mixed them up. This one's sweeter."
You pushed out a muffled thanks, covering reddened cheeks with your hair. And when you took a sip, deliciously honeyed liquor dripped down your throat, tasting refreshing like a mix of the sweetest fruits.
"Not bad." You mumbled, getting a low chuckle.
And for this whole time, Shoko was looking at you. No, staring. With her black eyes squinted, the corners of red lips twisted, fingers tapping on freshly replaced beer brought by Choso.
"I think you will reaaaally enjoy the concert," she giggled, getting a don't even think about it look from you. "I mean, what other plans did you possibly have?"
"I dunno, Gojo's having a party today," you bubbled, feeling Suguru's heat behind you. The crowd was getting denser, with more people coming to the bar, so at some point, his chest grazed your back slightly.
"Gojo?" Choso dropped in, pierced eyebrow lifting. "Satoru?"
"Yeah, this fuckhead from our university," she added, heavy scoff leaving her lips. "He's been clinging to y/n like a limpet. Probably infected all his whores with an ST–" but before she finshed drunkily, her eyes quickly landed on you. "Oh, sorry. Not including you."
You ignored Shoko's words, whore label stuck to you since the first semester, and focused on another issue that she somehow forgot to mention. "You know him?"
Choso looked at your friend, then Suguru, and lastly you, sending you a look that meant only one thing. "Yeah? We're at the same university."
"Oh," you muttered. "Amazing."
Suguru's chest was still warm as he stood behind you, with a steady presence, almost amused. Choso took a slow sip of his drink, looking as if trying to recall something.
"We've seen you before," Suguru dropped casually.
You blinked. "Excuse me?"
"On a campus," he clarified. "Main building? You're always by the fountain with your group."
Your stomach flipped, fingers squeezed the glass. "You've noticed it?"
Choso huffed softly. "Hard not to."
"Wow," you deadpanned, gaze going back at him, with a raised eyebrow and slightly pushed out hip. "Didn't know Addams Family did field observations."
Shoko snorted into her glass, while Suguru's chest trembled with a low chuckle.
"You dropped your pen once, actually. Pink one, with a fluffy top." He said. "You didn't even look at me when I picked it up."
Your throat clenched on a sweet beer, face suddenly feeling too feverish. "No, you didn't, I would remember."
Oh, you weren't such a bitch!
Right?
"You said 'thanks' and walked away," Suguru smiled faintly, looking at your flushed face and arm crossed defensively.
"Well, sorry I don’t make eye contact with every tall, emotionally repressed man in black within a five-foot radius." You muttered, never in your life regretting a decision that much.
And the concert hadn't even started yet!
But another hour of talking and drinking has passed. With Suguru's short looks towards you and yours, sometimes glancing at him – his lip piercing moving every time he spoke, hair swinging with every laugh, muscular arms, which at some point caged you between him and the bar, for how crowded the club was.
The air was dense, thick, with droplets of sweat beaming on your forehead, breath getting heavier, panties slightly, just barely, soaked, with the way his voice plesantly giggled your ear and this shit-eating grin made your stomach turn.
And you knew, oh of course you fucking knew, that he also tried to keep himself composed, with a few attempts of hiding a bulge in his jeans, touching your belly every time another freak pushed him from behind. His smirk wasn't that confident anymore when you felt it for the first time – doe eyes immediately lifting up at him, smile cunning, lower lip pinched, with a lone finger skimming black material, pushing right on a swell blooming under your touch.
He shrugged visibly, throat bobbed, Shoko asked if he's drunk, Choso said that the concert was starting, and it's better to push to the front, while you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.
What?
"What? But are you going to find us?" she asked.
"I'll be somewhere around the ba–"
"I'm also going to go," he chipped in, voice a bit rough, eyes looking everywhere just not at your slutty smile.
Dear fucking god, why did he agree to get you into this club?
Shoko squinted, lips curved, as Choso raised his eyebrow. "Why didn't you go earlier. Isn't it your favourite band?"
But before Suguru could fry his brain to think of an excuse, Shoko already pulled Choso towards the stage, leaving you alone.
With this handsome freak, who immediately grabbed you by the wrist.
♱♱♱
"Fuck, wait, there's people out the–ahhh."
His long fingers curled in your hair, lower lip bitten, veiny forearms bulging, as he tried to push your plump lips away from his leaking cock, with sticky precum dripping down its fat shaft. Everything was messy, filthy, nasty, with your knees hitting the dirty floor of the bathroom second after you wobbly entered the cabin, and fingers taking Suguru's pants off before he could say a word.
He looked down at you with flushed cheeks, brows furrowed, when you once again closed your lips on the tip of his cock, humming sweetly as salty droplets of his precum landed on your tongue. Your small hands around his girthy cock made his head spin, seeing with how much difficulty your throat was taking the rest of his heavy shaft, vibrating, squeezing, milking him dry when the only thing he could do was to cup the back of your head and let out a shuddering breath.
You pulled out with a pop, soft hand clutching the base of his cock.
"And now you're worried about other people, huh? Should think about it before your cock started leaking through your pants, freak." You spat on his pulsing head, red like a cherry, tasting almost as sweet on your tongue.
It was so embarrassing – to be on your knees for one of these freaks you despised so much. Shoko truly was one and only exception, but you couldn't handle all these emo (goth?) groups hanging out around your campus – so weird, dramatic, with a superiority complex of at least a white, middle-aged man.
Gosh, and these outfits. All black. In summer. On purpose!
Life was hard enough without sweating in thirty degrees Celsius under the black long-sleeve.
Heavy boots stomping across campus, the chains, piercings, stupid fucking makeup that made them look no different from a corpse. And the music – oh God, the music, same one played muffly outside this filthy bathroom. Low, droning, existential crisis-core blasting from someone’s speaker at 9 a.m. on a Tuesday, like everyone else also wanted to contemplate mortality before their first class.
They were just so intense, so annoying, so – uh, so hot.
Because it turned out that this freak looking down at you with dark smudges under his eyes and hair falling down messily on his gleaming forehead, made your cunt clench with a single smirk sent from beneath these black lips you loathed so!
And when he tipped his head, with that stupid silver ring on his eyebrow catching the light against his dark hair? Gosh! It did something deeply inappropriate to your brain.
The heaviness of his cock felt just too right on your tongue – fat shaft once again going deep down, till you slurped on it like a lollipop, tongue swirling on its head, cheeks sucked in. He hissed when the head hit the back of your throat once, twice, thrice, leaving you with teary eyes and, most sluttish, whorish, nasty gaze he ever received from a woman.
And he got exactly zero of them. Up until this evening. Maybe he should consider converting himself, because the thought of someone like you dropping down on her knees for him still twirled in his mind.
"Wait, wait, stop for a second," He was dangerously close, feeling soft pads of your fingers playing with his balls, hand squeezing the length you couldn't deepthroat. "Fuck, bambi, stop, or I'm going to cum."
And it seemed as if information didn't really bother you, with fingers going down to your skirt, now slightly curled around plump hips, and a wet patch forming right on your pinkish panties.
"Cum for me and I'll maybe let you eat me out," you mewled, eyes staring at him cunningly, observing the state you pushed him into, with fingers pulling your hair and abs tensing every time you sucked your cheeks in.
"Wait, I thought we're g-gonna fuck," he choked out when your warm lips closed around his head, a gentle hum of your throat bolting through his body.
Dear god, the things you were doing to him!
You raised an eyebrow, a giggle escaping your throat. "Wanna fuck me, emo boy? A freak like you? Let's put your tongue to work first, and then we can ta–"
But, well, he didn't grace you with an option of finishing this head-spinning, heart-racing, cock-hardening sentence, because his strong palms pushed you back on his leaking shaft, stuffing you fully with his fat cock. You choked, tears immediately pushing from the corners of your eyes, saliva dripping down your chin, dripping straight on a hand, folding nastily your clit.
"Right, you're nothing but a slut, after all." He laughed, deep, low, seeing the new pathetic side of yours. And, oh dear, how beautiful you looked, with your swollen lips and messy hair, heavy tits barely covered by a wet, white top, and trembling thighs, he truly wished to have around his head right fucking now.
"Also."
Thrust.
"I'm not."
Thrust.
"A fucking."
Thrust, thrust, trust.
"Emo."
Like there's a difference! You wanted to say, but instead moaned, fingers pushing inside your panties, circling your puffed clit till another muffled moan escaped your lips.
"You despise people like me that much, but still somehow drench this filthy floor while choking on my cock, huh?" He strangled, breath getting weightier every time his pulsing head hit the back of your throat.
Lovely bloom sprinkled on your wet cheeks, and these eyes, oh gosh your eyes, looking at him so sweetly (slutty!) with the most fucked out gaze and almost heart-shaped pupils. Pitched moan escaping every time another whore was thrown your way, and his heavy, leather boot pressed on your hand stuck in panties.
You were truly, absolutely, embarrassingly pathetic for this muscular freak.
"F-fuck, baby, fuck fuck fuck, I'm gonna–"
And with one last push, fingers clasped on your hair, your teary eyes and his muffled moan, he pushed into your throat fully. Till the black hair of his happy trail tingled your nose, heavy balls slapping your wet, drooling chin. Warmth spilled in your throat, gummy, salty, running down smoothly, when you jiggled, coming on your pulsing clit and his heavy boot under your drenched cunt.
He pulled you from his cock with a pop, muscular arms lifting you up from a dirty floor. For a few seconds, he was staring at the fucked state he left you in, before your lips crashed in a long, sloppy kiss, with Suguru's tasting his own cum on your puffy skin. You whined under his gentle touch, his black lipstick mixing with your glittery, smudged lip gloss.
"So what, bambi? Gonna stop ignoring me on a campus for your fuckass frat boyfriend?"
You smiled slyly, lips turning sweetly as his hands cupped your cheeks. "I don't know, it depends on how useful you'll be, freak."
And, well, as much as Suguru truly wanted to stay at this concert, you giving him a chance to prove his worth was much more appealing.
The desert is cold at night. The West Bank of the Nile deadly silent, with a sand gripping your lifeless body. But you shall not fear death, as your mother would say. You shall not, because he will come and guide you to the afterlife. Anubis, God of the Dead, Lord of the Duat, Protector of the Desert, Jackal-Headed Lord, your – oh.
part of the Gods, Heroes, Warriors collection!
pairings: Anubis!Geto x F!Reader
content/warnings: ancient Egypt AU, Egyptian gods, Anubis!Geto Suguru x F!Reader, he's a God OMG, oral (fem rec.), fingering, spitting, heavy breeding kink, Suguru is massive, tummy bulges, mating press, manhandling, happy ending, swearing, reader is in the afterlife lol.
WC: 6.8k
a/n: I'm a history girlie, so ofc I have a crush on Anubis since I saw him in an elementary school textbook. Also, Ennead may or may not be my favourite manhwa.
divider by @saradika-graphics
art by Lemon Emlyn (@lemon_emlyn) on X
Nights in Egypt came in two ways.
The East Bank of the Nile bathed in lights, quietly dimmed by the heavy darkness.
The river breathed in silence beneath the starry sky, and cities grew quiet as the last whispers crept along the streets. The sun rose in the East – it gave life to its people and bestowed a Godly presence. The East was vitality, essence itself, where life bloomed in the sun's warmth and prayers were heard in the corners of warm temples.
The West Bank of the Nile was the land of Osiris.
That's where the sun set, and merciless, cold nights haunted the daredevils. The West came only with the smell of death and a journey to the underworld. When the sun set over the horizon, a vast field of unknown power spilled quietly under the stars. Dangerously so, with grains of sand racing one another, sinking beneath the heavy bodies of men who stepped on a cursed path. There were no city walls there – only the low howling of jackals and the growling wind grazing cold tombstones.
Egyptians believed in the presence.
The East Bank basked in the life-giving force and the blessed sun. The bron children and flowing water marked fertile land and boundless love. The Gods endowed their earth and its people with the sun and life.
On the West Bank, cold wind followed buried bodies and heavy steps of jackals. The Gods were there – hidden under the grave sand, welcoming to the realm of the dead and blessing the buried.
For Egyptians, the desert meant death.
Its merciless hands never tied anything down. The bodies were barely buried before animals took them away under the moon's cruel stare. Jackals would open the grave with their paws alone, sinking their teeth into the bodies on their journey to the underworld.
The Egyptians feared them.
Their yellow eyes were fixed on the dead, their claws scratching the heavy sand. Jackals were masters of the night, when eerie quiet hung over the high mountains of sand and the vast land stretched far beyond what one could ever imagine.
So, they decided to turn their fear into a blessing, the Godly presence which would protect their buried bodies and guide them to the underworld.
To tame fear meant turning it into a God, and pray to that God not in dread but in fortune. Ask to guide the desert and the edge of life. To worship him as the first presence welcoming you in the afterlife and weighing your life on a scale, allowing you a journey to the land of the dead.
Your journey began a few minutes ago, with cold sand hugging your exhausted body as the desert’s immense power slowly took you away.
The moon was hanging high, and the low howling of jackals was somewhere there. Above the dancing wind and massive hills, where your eyes couldn't reach, already too tired to keep the eyelids open.
You remembered your mother's stories of God meeting you after death. Of his yellow eyes and jackal's head, which you shouldn't fear, child. For when the time comes, he will be your guide into the underworld, where Mother Desert will embrace your body again and bury you with your people. For he protects the desert and the ones long passed, as the fair judge of the afterlife, whose kindness and power are inestimable.
You wondered whether your mother passed the test of weighing heart. You wondered whether you would pass it, with a soul burdened by the life in poverty and dreadfulness, the horrible deeds you needed to do just to keep your siblings safe.
And you never meant to get lost in the West Bank of the Nile, where no man in his right mind would wander under the heavy stare of the night and desert welcoming you with eeriness, its claws so sharp you could feel your body slowly being covered by its cold hands.
Lying on your back, with a foggy head and barely open eyes, you heard the heavy footsteps. Paws, running your way, and loose tongues drooling at the sight of your lifeless body.
The air was thick with a smell of death, so intense that you questioned if it was your own sinful heart, ready to be weighed.
The jackals were fast, and you could see them before the moon bestowed its last glance upon you, and the desert's ethereal cold slipped between your fingers, almost inviting you on a new journey into the unknown.
And the darkness came together with heavy paws.
No, not only paws.
There was someone else walking behind the envoys of death. Decisive footsteps, almost too light to hear, accompanied by the low howling of jackals.
Wet noses touched your buried body – left sinfully desecrated under the open sky, blameless in the eyes of the God of Death. The heaviness lifted from your soul, and your lids, once again, opened lightly towards the endless bounds of the night. Your body was still too heavy to move.
You managed to turn your head to the side, seeing the yellow eyes staring into your soul. The lulled tongues and bared teeth, spit disappearing into the sand.
Jackals weren't big, but they always travelled in a pack, and the sound of their footsteps circling your lifeless body was enough to make your eyes close tightly.
You weren't sure what state you currently remained in – the world had closed in on you just a minute before, but now the night desert sky welcomed your soul back. The coldness was not as unbearable as it had been, the sand almost pleasant under your skin.
The moment you breathed, however, there was no visible puff of a small cloud floating around you as it used to.
There seemed to be no heartbeat either, just a heavy organ sitting quietly under your skin.
You felt a wet tongue on your cheek and another jackal sniffing your legs.
It was a whole herd, the wolf-like animals circling you with a peaked curiosity, as if just waiting for the order to devour your body.
But this order never came, just a quiet, almost inaudible whisper.
"Shhh, don't bother her."
And then you noticed a figure, far in the dunes. Looking almost unreal, like an oasis for a dying man, a feeling you wanted to cling to, without knowing what it was you yearned for.
As the figure approached, you noticed his tall, muscular build and long legs. He wore yellow–black robes that hugged his hips, with a gold chain hanging loosely above his pelvis. His chest was bare, apart from a heavy gold necklace and a droplet-shaped Ankh resting on sun-kissed skin, shifting slightly with each step. He clenched a long Was Scepter in his hand, with the tip curling slightly. A heavy mask of a black jackal with pointed ears and yellow eyes covered his face and ears, gently grazing broad shoulders. His long black hair, reaching just above his hips, fluttered slightly in the West wind, which howled with echoes of death and fear.
He looked like a God.
He was a God.
The man came closer, Jackal's head looking over your body, though you couldn't see his gaze. With a long Was Scapter, he drove the wolf-like creatures away, who fled towards the boundless borders of the desert.
And then he extended his hand towards you, with gold bracelets rattling softly as they moved.
"Come on," he whispered, with a voice warmly cooling your mind. "It's time to go."
It was difficult to move a moment ago, but now, after his command, your body moved as if of its own accord, your palm slowly grasping his.
When you stood, the world moved around you, but his hand never left yours, clenching it tightly.
You could look at him more closely, just now seeing how massive he was – with muscles bulging under his sun-kissed skin and a thin gold chain lying across his chest. To meet the gaze of his Jackal's head, you needed to throw your head up, till your neck went stiff, looking at the man twice your height. His God-deserved body turning slowly towards the unknown, directing you by the hand through the desert.
Sand pleasantly sank under your feet when you followed his heavy footsteps, and Was Scapter pushed into it with his every step.
And so you walked in, quiet, with stars following your long path to the unknown, shimmering as if whispering of your fate, while his warm fingers wrapped tightly around yours. It felt so intimate, yet normal, almost as if his touch had lingered on your skin before, long forgotten in a dusty corner of your memory.
Raven hair flowed down his muscular back, swaying with each step. You wished to see his face, but no God revealed their full appearance to the dead, acting only as their guides and protectors.
You wanted to ask questions, but it felt so out of place, with the silence between you two almost pleasant in its heaviness. You could enjoy this moment for a while before he puts you through a final trial: weighing your heart on a scale. You were the most afraid of this process, almost sure that all your doings would be heavier than a feather.
And what happens when your heart outweighs the feather?
What happens if you can no longer enter paradise?
What happens when your soul gets devoured by the monsters and stops its existence?
You looked back, but your body had long since been left behind, hidden somewhere in the desert's cradling arms.
"Don't worry, I will be sure to prepare it for burial," you heard a whisper, a low tone that disappeared somewhere between the gusts of wind.
He said it, as if reading your mind.
"My God, my family wouldn't be able to mummify it, they..."
He clearly tensed at the way you addressed him.
"I know," he interrupted your explanation. "I'll be the one responsible for it."
And the only thing you could say, through your tightened throat, was a weak, ”Thank you."
Jackal's head moved slightly, as if wanting to turn back to you, but he continued to walk.
And suddenly you noticed a large temple rising in its might before you, as if it had been covered by the night's blanket and sand dust, floating around you in slow circles.
It was enormous, with candle flames flickering in the air to guide you along a slowly emerging row of single palms and a stone path, leading directly to the entrance. It extended across the desert, and you couldn't see where it ended.
You heard heavy footsteps of jackals scampering around and saw two wolf-like statues sitting peacefully before the temple, almost as if guarding it from outsiders. Their pointed ears seemed to listen to your footsteps and breath, even though Anubis was guiding you confidently along the unfamiliar path to the temple.
Its pillars high as mountains, coated in colourful paintings of jackal-headed God, his life and history. Myths you've heard as a child, and his long figure, steady guiding lost souls through the underworld.
Underworld, which in paintings seemed different. Not just paintings, but the stories you've heard, too. Duat was a vast land filled with danger, untamed monsters and demons, and it had to be navigated with spells and Anubis's guidance. Before facing the final judgement of the weighed heart, every soul, together with pharaohs, needed to pass through Duat. So you naturally prepared yourself for the trickery journey, the spells from the Book of the Dead already pinned somewhere in your memory, from the early teenage years.
So why weren't you there?
Why were you standing in front of Anubis's temple, warm and safe, with the only danger you could think of in the form of jackals?
But you were already dead, so even these creatures wouldn't be interested in hurting your soul.
You turned, seeing him standing right next to you in silence, following your every glance.
He continued to hold your hand, warm touch remaining on your skin.
You were tempted to finally ask, although it was difficult to gauge his temper, hidden beneath the heavy mask that fell to his shoulders.
"My God, why–" you began, but your voice suddenly caught in your throat. You tried again, saying, "Why am I here? Aren't we supposed to go through Duat?"
He stared at you silently, his mask making you feel as if you were talking to yourself.
For a moment, he didn't react at all. Just remained close enough for you to feel the heat of his body. But then he turned around and followed inside the temple.
"I–"
"Do you want to go to Duat?"
He guided you inside, right into the massive chamber, its walls lined with his portraits and stories. Multiple candles lit your path, reflecting the gold elements inside and making the place worthy of a Godly presence.
"I thought we must–" you started, but he interrupted you once again, this time more sharply.
"Do you want to go to Duat?"
Was it already a trial?
Was there an incorrect answer to this question?
Naturally, you preferred not to wander through the vast, danger-filled land, but if it was necessary to reach paradise then–
"No," slipped in a whisper, as you glanced down at your bare feet.
He knew the temple intimately, guiding you through its extensive corridors and chambers. Each space was filled with gold and treasures, with every room more opulent than the last, welcoming you with soft cushions and plush carpets against cold, stone walls.
Eventually, you halted in a chamber shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by a few scattered candles. The most striking feature was the large bed, draped with a flowing, silk-like canopy that gently covered it, hiding it from view. Cushions were arranged on the floor, and beyond, there was a window – or rather, an open space where a wall was missing – that offered a view of the endless desert under the night sky.
You didn't know which floor you were on; however, you've never seen the desert from this height. So beautiful in its cruelty, you almost wanted to gladly give yourself to its hands.
The chamber was, nevertheless, warm, with a small fire sizzling shyly in the corner. Though you were already dead, and no mortal problems, such as coldness, could touch you anymore.
The man turned to you once again, his massive figure covering the moonlight creeping inside the chamber.
"My God, why am I here?" you asked him warmly, feeling his hand tighten on yours. "I should go through the judg–"
"You don't have to," he answered quickly, almost on one breath.
You looked at him in silence, your chest tightening. Confusion bloomed on your face, and a breeze as light as a feather crept into the chamber, ruffling his hair.
"My God, what do you–"
But his body tensed. Warm hands embraced yours, rubbing your knuckles in small circles, as his yellow eyes fixed on your face.
"Don't call me that," he whispered, almost painfully, dropping his head. "Do you not recognize me, my love?"
Your soft lips suddenly parted, feeling a sudden warmth spreading across your cheeks, as you heard the way he addressed you.
He took a step closer, looking down at you as if in expectancy. An answer that would satisfy him the most, but one which you did not possess.
"My God, I'm sorry, but–"
You noticed he had a habit of not fully listening to you, too impatient to let you prolong this tension.
So his next request startled you even more.
"Take it off," he murmured, kneeling in front of you.
You would never imagine a God kneeling before a mortal.
His mere presence was overpowering, as if it took your breath away and taxed your nervous system in every wrong way.
Golden hoops nearly encased his muscular arms, gently wrapping around your body. You gasped as he slid his arms around your hips, pulling you nearer. This time, the jackal's head looked up at you, with black ears nearly brushing your chin and yellow eyes eagerly awaiting your next move.
Chill run through your spine, seeing a God himself in such an innocent, almost humiliating position, for a simple woman.
"Please, take it off, my love," he repeated, and the only thing you could do was to grant his wish.
The mask was smooth under your skin and lighter than it looked. You took it off slowly, careful not to snag the long gold earrings hanging from his ears and a few strands of hair that were getting tangled in a black veil covering both sides of the mask.
And then.
Oh.
And then your knees almost went weak. A strange part of your memory, closed for a long time, suddenly opened, dusty and forgotten, yet there.
So precious, you couldn't believe you still remembered it after your death.
As before, while your heart was still pumping with warmth, when you could still hear your siblings' laughter and your mother's nagging voice, and feel the heavenly Nile on your skin and the sun blessing your skin with long kisses, he was there.
And he was yours.
He was yours since you remembered.
Since you were a child, wandering alone near the river banks, where the waters were so calm they posed no danger. Some boats floated quietly, the sizzling heat mercilessly warming your skin, though your legs in the water gave you a bit of pleasure.
You hid among the long grasses, in the corner only you knew, quiet and peaceful, with a bustling city left far behind you.
You were lonely as a child, with your siblings still too young to keep you company, and your mother always too busy with them. Your father was somewhere there, always working, seldom home, barely keeping poverty from haunting your doorstep.
And when your mother would send you to fetch water and do some small errands, you would come here.
Alone.
Well, maybe not entirely.
You would observe him, stealing shy glances at the nearby boy, as his servants carefully supervise his body immersed in water.
Not just a boy.
A Pharaoh's son – a prince himself.
It didn't matter how secretive you believed you were, watching him from the long canes, fully concealing your small body. No matter how much you tried to hide, sneaking glances from afar at his sad, lonely eyes gazing above the vast desert, their beautifully smooth skin touched by a hint of gold.
He knew you were there.
And he would wait for you in the warm evenings, when he could quietly leave the palace and meet you at the West Bank.
He shared stories of his childhood in a palace, and you listened intently, eyes sparkling and ears tuned to all the luxury he experienced.
There wasn't much to talk about as children, but you liked each other's company.
You were there for each other, two lonely souls, living in two different worlds, yet somehow finding comfort in each other's presence.
So it was sweet while you were children.
But then you started to grow up, and he too, with both of you glancing your way with more curiosity, made your stomach flutter and your cheeks burn under the moon.
He grew taller, broader in the shoulders, his laughter deep as the Nile, raven hair brushing the nape of his neck. Gold collars replaced the simple beds he once wore, and the weight of kohl-lined eyes now carried something heavier than childhood loneliness.
And you–
You became more resilient through hunger and toil. Your hands became calloused from grinding grain and washing linen in river water that prickled your skin. But when you saw him in the evenings, as the sun turned the sand crimson and everything around was bathed in amber, all those hardships faded away.
He would bring you figs wrapped in cloth, bread still warm, sometimes little trinkets stolen from lessons – an amulet chipped at the edge, a bead fallen from a noblewoman's necklace.
"For protection," he would say, putting it into your palm with a grin.
You knew it was risky. Everyone did.
A prince did not belong on the West Bank.
A prince did not sit in the dust beside a girl with no name worth carving into stone.
But he did, week after week.
And then the rumours began to spread through the city – about unrest, blood spilt in the dark corners of streets, about Pharaoh growing crueller with age.
And the prince grew quieter. His eyes wandered more often towards the unknown arms of the West Bank desert. Towards the death and low howling, somewhere far away, above the dunes.
"I wish to take you away," he confessed once, voice barely louder than the evening wind. "Somewhere where I'm not watched. Where we could be together."
You smiled softly, the sadness creeping up your spine. It was such an innocent, teenage wish, both of you knowing it would never come true. But nevertheless, you said:
"We are, here."
That night, he kissed your forehead, reverent, trembling. As if praying.
Not long after, the meetings stopped.
The palace gates closed tighter. Servants whispered. Soldiers marched.
And one morning, the city woke to mourning cries ripping through the air like a torn linen.
The prince was dead.
Some said it was an illness. Others said it was the Gods. They said many things, but you knew the truth lay somewhere between the boy who wanted love and a world that denied him any.
You stood among mourners as his body was carried through the city. Wrapped in white, crowned in gold. And when your knees gave out in the dust, no one noticed. You were simply invisible to everyone else. Just not him.
So now, with the jackal's head still in your hands, you felt it again. This flame, which you thought had been extinguished a long time ago, together with him.
With your prince.
Your Suguru.
His eyes gazed up at you with profound longing and loneliness, causing your skin to shiver. Dark, lengthy locks framed his handsome face, which seemed sculpted like a deity's, with kohl-lined almond eyes emphasising their deep purple irises. You placed a trembling hand on his cheek, causing his long earrings to swing as he leaned into it with a deep breath. His skin remained as soft as you remembered, accented by a gold ring on his lower lip.
"Suguru?" rolled like a dream, your voice trembling with cries. "Is it really–"
He placed a kiss on your palm, breathing the smell of your skin.
"I waited so long, my love," he said, with arms locking you in an even tighter embrace. "I was counting the suns like a madman, waiting for our meeting."
You couldn't quite believe it, gently touching his handsome face, tracing his straight brows and full lips, noting his high cheekbones, his dark hair falling softly under your fingers, responding subtly to your touch.
He looked so fulfilled, as if your touch alone was satisfying all his desires. Dark eyes drinking you in as if he feared you might vanish again.
They observed each of your hand's movements, watching your soft lips and listening to your gentle voice, with a depth that made your chest feel tight. There was hunger in him, yes – but it was not raw or crude. It was the longing of centuries, of devotion stretched across the boundaries of life and death.
"I learned patience in Duat," he murmured, with forehead resting against your chest. "I learned restraint while my heart weighed. While I watched over every soul but not you."
"How did you end up like that?" you asked, gently tracing dark corners of his eyes.
He whispered softly, confessing, "I begged Osiris to give me this role. He cursed me to spend eternity among the dead, never to see the sun again.” His voice faltered, edges trembling, but he added, "None of that mattered as long as I could see you again."
"And Osiris, the God of the Dead, he's–"
"Dead now."
You went silent, eyes suddenly widening with loss for words.
"Suguru, w-what do you mean? You killed... a God?"
He slowly rose, once again towering over you like a beast, with muscles bulging beneath the tight embrace of gold hoops.
His forehead pressed against yours, eyes burning with heaviness that knocked breath out of your lungs.
"He deceived me, never intending for me to bring you back." His finger gently traced your slightly parted lips, thumb pressing softly. "I had no other option. Now, I am the God of the Dead, and I determine your eternal afterlife."
You gasped, shifting your gaze between his eyes and lips, a strange warmth suddenly spreading through you.
"And you'll stay here. As my Goddess."
𓋹 𓋹 𓋹
You couldn't quite recall how you found yourselves in this situation. It all happened so quickly – Suguru swiftly lifting you and settling you onto a soft bed, with a canopy draping around your heated bodies as your lips met. He kissed you intensely, a deep frown creasing his brow and muffled moans slipping from his lips. The kiss was wet and chaotic, with your hands tangled in his long hair, while his hefty frame hovered above you, fingers gradually loosening your robes and reaching for your breasts.
"Sugu–" you moaned as he pinched your nipples, your skin exposed to his gentle touch.
A stark contrast to the dampness rapidly accumulating between your thighs, so intense that you instinctively curled your fingers in his hair, pushing him down onto you.
"What's the rush, love?" he grinned devilishly, looking devastatingly beautiful above you. His voice like honey to your ears.
"Please," you begged, opening your legs wider, glancing down at him with teary eyes.
And, oh, something must've snapped, because the next second he ripped the robes off you, leaving you bare under the moonlight. The inside of your thighs was already covered in juices, and he pushed your bent knees right to your chest, rubbing his clothed, aching cock against your sloppy pussy.
"Never in my lifetime have I felt such hunger," he closed his eyes with a deep groan. Dark robe hugging his thighs suddenly became wet with droplets of his precum. He looked down, sliding a thumb between your folds, collecting even more juices gathered in your entrance. "Dear Goddess, I can't wait to fill you full. We're gonna create the next generation of Gods."
Before you could answer, he lowered himself, and the last thing you heard before pleasure exploded before your eyes was a loud slurp as Suguru's tongue ran over your folds. His tongue was drenched in saliva, absolutely devouring your leaking pussy, as he spread your folds with his two fingers.
"Mhmmm–Sugu!" The moan that escaped your lips was obscenely loud, your eyes already rolling back.
He groaned, sending tremors through your folds. His tongue was filling you just right, lips sucking hard on your clit till your hips jittered, wriggling on the bed sheets.
"Ah, ah," his heavy hand landed on your stomach, pushing you harder against the mattress. "Stop moving, let me enjoy the meal."
He licked everything – every spot, every fold, twisting his tongue around your clit and pushing it inside, before pushing one finger in to scoop up even more of your juices.
"Love, y-you taste so, dear Goddess."
He slowly rubbed his hips against the mattress, stimulating his painfully hard cock while he devoured the sweetest dessert even the palace's kitchen couldn't serve.
And when he thrusted his finger fully inside, your back lifted up in a delicious arch. Thighs spread even wider, ready and desperate to feel something else aside his calloused digits.
With his nose deep in your cunt, Suguru added a second one, praising you all the way long, imagining how your tight walls will squeeze around his cock.
"A-ah Sugu, right there!"
Your eyes crossed when his fingers hit the sweet pot, driving you absolutely mad. Your fingers slipped into his lock, and hips rolled against his plastered tongue madly. Desperately, with disgustingly filthy noise, as you tried to reach your high.
And truth to be told, he couldn’t enjoy himself more. With hips rubbing harder against the sheets, as he felt your hands pull his hair.
And as much as he wanted to immediately cum inside your sweet pussy, the sheer view spreading in front of him made him think that maybe he won’t last long. As there you were, with plush breasts and slightly parted lips, eyes glossy from prickling tears and honeyed ambrosia spilling from your clamping cunt right into his tongue.
It was quite pitiful to see a God in such a vulnerable state, gazing up at you with tearful eyes and genuine longing. His tongue was pressed to your folds, and brows were furrowed in pleasure. His long hair clung to his damp forehead, and he looked incredibly alluring with nose buried in your hole.
"S-Suguru, stop, b-breath," you groaned, seeing how utterly lost he was.
Oh, his face was terribly wet with your juices as he repeatedly pumped his fingers inside you, already feeling cramps in your lower belly. You were near, and he intended to guide you through it.
"Don't need it, I'm a fucking God," he snapped, this time putting not just a hand, but a whole meaty arm on your belly to bring you even closer. "Come on, love. Cum for me."
His fingers abused your sweet spot, and lips sucked the clit, brushing it with teeth and shovelling his tongue even further inside your hole. It fluttered so prettily, and he simply couldn't stop looking as it overflowed with the most delicious syrup; he wished it were the one that had poisoned his mortal body. His long fingers thrusted down your fluttering walls, stroking your sweet bundle of nerves, just to get you over the edge.
You started grinding harder, blubbering under your nose and moaning like a cat in heat as his fingers stretched your tight cunt.
"Sugu–ahh nghh–right here, p-please right here."
And it was your final moan, before a watery gush escaped your sweet pussy, drenching his face in your cum.
"That's it, keep going, my good girl," he encouraged as your thighs held him tightly around his head.
And if he weren't a huge God, manhandling you with his sheer muscle mass, maybe you’d worry about accidentally choking him. "You're doing so well, you taste amazing, my good girl."
He held you in an absolute chokehold, with his thumb and index finger pinching your clit until you squirted even more – all over his chest and hair, until your thighs trembled and back lifted in a delicious arch.
Suguru moaned lowly, pushing his arm on your belly and with one last grind, he cummed right in his robes. The sole taste of your pussy made him tremble in pleasure.
"Did you just–"
But you never finished, when he crashed against your lips in a hungry, messy kiss, this time tasting like your cum.
"Don't worry, there's still enough to knock you up before the sunrise," he whispered, and you answered with a moan, sucking on his tongue, and feeling yourself get wet once again.
You drooled as he pulled back, looking at you with parted lips and dilated pupils, making you wonder if his mind was still present with you.
And he was right, because the moment he withdrew, you noticed his girth cock get hard again. It leaked with precum, with white droplets dripping smoothly down its veiny shaft. Red tip slid up and down your plump folds ferociously and oh, so so desperately.
You gasped as he cupped both of his large hands under your thighs and thrust you into a very mean mating press.
He looked so beautiful, truly like God, with bulging forearms keeping you submissively in place, and small droplets of sweat dripping from his temple, through sharp jaw, and down the muscular chest, glistening under the faint flame of the candles.
"My God, I don't think I can–"
And this time, this name pushed him over the edge, weakening a beastly ferocity hiding behind his warm irises.
Perhaps he had a hint of a jackal, after all, as he gazed hungrily at your tearful eyes and trembling lips, swollen from his sharp kisses. His eyes slowly moved to your bare breast and firm nipples, which looked so tempting that he couldn't wait for them to swell with milk, filling the robes he specially made for you with their fullness. Your belly was heaving deeply, and the softness on your hips was driving him wild.
He cupped the heavy swell of your ass, pulling your puffy lips closer to his cock. He could feel your hole fluttering around nothing, and his girth already twitching.
"You can, my love. I'll make it fit," he slapped his cock against your folds, before the feverish head caught on your entrance. "I'm a God, there's nothing I cannot do."
And before you could fight, he pushed your thighs closer to your chest. With ass almost in the air, while he sank his pulsing cock inside, so big and heavy, it almost ripped you apart.
You cried pitifully, with stars already dancing before your eyes.
But Suguru stayed quiet.
Too quiet.
And when you looked closer, you saw this mountain of muscles trembling slightly. With lips fallen open, furrowed brows and flushed face, as if he tried to restrain himself. As If your walls were clamping on his shaft so raw, he needed a minute not to snuggle warmly right against your womb.
"Mhgm Sugu–"
But when he opened his eyes, you fell silent.
Oh.
Oh, it looks like you weren't going to make it out alive today.
Because he suddenly pushed – hard, raw, so obscenely rough, knocking the breath out of your chest. He moulded your hole to his size, with walls catching on him almost like a glue and never letting him leave the warmth of your sweet pussy.
"M-my love, oh Goddess," he threw his head back, allowing you to lurk at his glistening neck and collarbones, hugged with a heavy gold necklace. "Your pussy's so greedy–mmm–makes me wanna make you a Goddess right here and there."
But you could just nod stupidly, with eyes rolling back and soft gasps leaving your parted lips. You could feel your cheeks getting wet with tears when he placed his hand on your lower belly.
"Do you feel it, my love?" he asked, pushing his cock even rougher, fuller, with balls bumping against your ass. His hand pressed against your tummy, bulging with his cock. "I've always dreamed of it. You have no idea–ahh–how often I imagined ravishing your sweet pussy."
He bent over, slowly licking tears from your flushed cheeks and kissing you hungrily. He was devouring all the gasps escaping your lips, before licking your lower lip, and the chin, and cheeks, and the curve of the nose, groaning when you squeezed around him.
He was truly like a jackal. Like a dog in a heat, licking and panting, filling every corner of your pussy up till your womb. Up till your lower belly looked almost pregnant, so full of his heavy, leaking cock.
Gold earrings swayed with his every move, golden bracelets on his wrists clacking softly, when he pushed your thighs even closerto your chest, crushing you with a heavy mass of his muscles.
"Sugu, yes yes yes yes," you moaned, curling your toes, his cock making your head spin. "I-I'm almost–ngh–I can't, why are you so big?"
Your eyes rolled when he laughed with audacity, and kissed your cervix with the head of his cock. He pulled back, only to look down at your hot, drenched cunt, locking his cock in a merciless grip. He spread your folds with two fingers, spitting on your clit with a devilish grin.
"She's not complaining," slipped in a chuckle, but the next second, you clenched on him so hard, his breath came out almost ragged. "M-my love, d-don't, ngh–"
And you felt so satisfied, seeing how easy he was to tame.
A God of the Dead himself, fucking you raw like a madman, manhandling you in the meanest ways, only to glance down at you with teary eyes the moment your gummy walls clamped down on his shaft.
"It feels so good, my love, so fucking good," he groaned, further abusing your cervix. Kissing, scratching and pushing it with his reddened tip, until you felt a tingle in your womb. "I've never thought it would be like this. How many children do you want, hm?" he bent down again, catching your wet cheeks with his hand. "How many, my love? I'll be filling this pretty pussy till you wish."
But all you could do was call out his name, feeling him turn wild and rougher, watching you desperately in love, as you arched your back and begged him with your gaze.
"Sugu–mhmm–as many as you want, as many as you want, j-just p-please let me–"
"I'll make you Goddess of the Sun, fuck, I’ll kill that–ngh–fucker, I’ll make you next Goddess of Egypt," he groaned right to your ear, but you couldn't do anything aside from feeling your legs shake, his hips slamming with each thrust.
His massive body pressed you once again, as if he knew how much pleasure you took from it – from veiny forearms crushing your thighs and pushing you in a stable mating press, till not even a droplet of your juice could escape from your pussy. With his cock blocking the entrance as if glued to your walls.
"Tell me how you feel, love, go on," his hips started rolling faster, rougher, feeling you getting closer and closer, with your belly coiling with warmth.
"So gooood, so good, good–God!"
And then you gave him last, hard squeeze, your final warning before a broken moan spilt from your lips. Your pussy tried to milk him dry, clenching and squirting all over his abdomen and pulsing cock.
"S-shit–my love–take it–ngh– you'll be dripping with my cum, ah," his voice broke, when he slammed harder, one last time, with head bullying its way right through your clenching walls and spilling thick, hot ropes right into your womb. "I can't fucking–fuck–please m-marry me, please please please."
He ripped your pussy raw, pulsing inside till you felt his warm cum coiling in your belly. He moaned so pitifully, licking, biting and peppering your face with kisses. His mind far too gone, just drowning in the pleasure of your sweet, clenching walls.
He finally kissed your damp forehead and gently settled his weight on your exhausted body, pressing you softly while hiding his face in your neck. His cock was still inside, rutting small, weak thrusts, just to keep the cum inside.
After a moment, as you steadied your ragged breath and trembling legs, you ran your fingers through his tangled hair, spilling all over your chest. You then placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, softly humming until you sensed his shallow breath.
"I don't want to be a Sun God," you whispered, feeling his body slightly move. "I just want to stay with you, here. I don't mind the darkness and the desert. I only wish to follow my God."
He lifted his head. With a loving gaze, he cupped your face and kissed you softly, with pure, pure devotion.
"And he shall grant your wish."
That was something, I hope you liked it! Julius Cesar Gojo next LMAO
edit: since so many of you liked it, tag list is open! <3
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