characters: popular cosplayer!geto x obsessed assistant!reader x nerdy roommate!gojo
very inspired by @indiewritesxoxo's Patreon works + characterisation of our beloved jjk men (my first & short attempt at a messy triangle!)
Synopsis: After stumbling into what you deem as the hottest male specimen alive in a convention, you spiralled into a desperate parasocial relationship with Geto Suguru. Your efforts to be noticed paid off, and you landed yourself the unpaid gig of his event assistant and occasional stress relief. Being with him on his terms still meant that you were with him. What if his nerdy roommate promises an even better deal though?
tags: mild angst, unrequited love, situationship, vague piv smut, fluff, awkward gojo, religious imagery, reader with low self esteem :(
Word Count: 3k
Cosplayer!Geto soon realised what a goldmine monetising his interests could be when he factored in his physique and honeyed voice, quickly grasping how he’d cornered a niche market when he found out how easy it was to hop from a nerd to a viral thirst trap sensation overnight.
God, it was actually laughable how easy it was to rack up followers and to be hired for events when he had only just started taking this whole cosplay nonsense seriously 6 months ago.
All the animes and games he and his buddies were teased ruthlessly for liking in school suddenly made him rich, the stream of gigs and attention never ceasing.
In your defense, you hadn’t planned on becoming obsessed – turning on notifications for every single image he posted, keeping an eye on any event he’d be boothing at.
You met him at his first proper event, when he was still a fairly new cosplayer with a loyal fanbase that was steadily growing.
You weren’t even supposed to show up for that event, until your friend offered you an extra ticket that would have otherwise been wasted.
It also wasn’t your fault how he would sign your name with a silver heart, making sure to run his thumb over your hand when he handed you the signed instant photo you paid way too much for.
He added a comma after dearest.
Could you blame a girl?
You knew you weren’t the prettiest, or the hottest, or the cleverest, or the richest.
But at least you had him.
One event soon turned into five, and then ten, and you’d sooner part with all the money you had in your account than miss one of his appearances.
Of course, as he catapulted to fame, so did his prices.
It was all worth it when his eyes seemed to pick you out from the sea of fans each time.
His eyes.
You’d recognise them anywhere – no matter what coloured contacts he’d put on.
Commenting on his reels and makeup tutorials wasn’t enough anymore.
You sent message after message, eagerly soaking in any ounce of attention he was willing to toss your way.
There was something magnetic about him. You relished every bit of his affection, lapping it up and devouring whatever he fed you.
When he decided to offer premium subscriber content, you whipped out your card without a moment of hesitation.
Who cares if your bank account was dipping dangerously close to the negatives? You could always pick up more shifts at work.
Loyalty was always one of your best traits.
And that was how you found yourself perched meekly by his side at events, holding up a payment code for other girls to get the same treatment you craved.
Thee Geto Suguru’s personal assistant.
Sure it was unpaid, but your new role meant that you could stare unabashedly at him in person now instead of through a screen, brushing a hand against his as you desperately tried to corral the burning flush in your cheeks.
The downside was having to see what his job entailed – intimate poses, sweet nothings in the ear, his warm hand cupping another’s cheek.
The first few events had bile rising in your throat, words lodged painfully as you struggled to tamp your jealousy, your envy, your revolting hatred for these other women.
But at least you were the one by his side, right?
Exposure therapy after a few events definitely helped with that intense knee-jerk reaction, and you soon talked yourself into some degree of begrudging tolerance.
After all, Suguru let you see a side of him that no one else did.
You were his favourite, just like how he was yours.
After helping to pack up his booth, he would present you a lone flower, pulled simply from the large bouquet he had received from the event organisers.
For being his pretty little assistant, he always whispered, before pressing you against the wall of a grimy alley near his car.
When the two of you were out of earshot of anyone else, he’d peel your skirt away, hoisting you up to guide your legs around his waist.
The rough brick dug into your skin, but the feel of him was all-encompassing and everything else faded away.
He often made the world feel so… unimportant.
He was the sun.
SuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguru
You worshipped devoutly and chanted his name like a prayer.
Faithful to a fault, and sweetly understanding when he took hours or even days to reply.
After he chased his high and ensured you got yours with quick, relentless rolls of his thick fingers, he pulled himself out.
But what happens when the sun goes out?
The resultant crater of missing him was deathly cold; the sticky aftermath of your joint fumble in the dark trickling down your core and trembling tights.
Cupping your face, Geto murmured faint praises while adjusting your clothes, promising to get you a ride home.
He’d never drive you himself though, and you never asked.
You were just so damn happy you got to touch him, even if your caress never saw the light of day.
You fucking loved him.
As painful as it was to be a shameful secret, a vile little lie, you soon convinced yourself to be content.
It was a miracle a man like Geto Suguru even looked your way.
Of course, you didn’t expect his roommate to challenge the tenet of your religion the first time you met him.
When you arrived at his door, you sent him a quick message like you typically did, not wanting to ring the bell and risk bothering anyone else.
Instead of having to wait a few minutes, the door opened impossibly fast, and you found yourself in front of a towering man with tousled white hair and impossibly thick frames clutching a trash bag.
It’s only after you remembered to close your gaping mouth that you looked down and a giggle escaped you.
The man was decked out in fluffy pink Koromon slippers and Koromon-printed boxes that contrasted his plain white sleep shirt which draped over his large, lean frame.
This tall stranger froze, seemingly unaccustomed to visitors and naturally, being seen in his pyjamas.
It was only until your soft voice broke some of the tension that he visibly relaxed.
“I… I like your slippers. I really wanted to get them before they sold out.”
There was something to be said about how you managed to sound completely sincere and heartfelt to Gojo in that moment.
As if he were a sleeper agent, his bright azure eyes lit up and his lips twitched upwards.
Unbeknownst to you, Gojo’s embarrassment paled in comparison to his desire to ramble on about his favourite nerdy interests.
After all, lurking on forums is one thing – but actually having the chance to share about his interests to a pretty girl who didn’t have the look of scorn in her eyes? He wasn’t that big of an idiot to let you slip away.
“Don’t even get me started about the scalpers! I had to run to five stores before I could get that limited edition pack.” The man before you ranted, unexpectedly enthused to be in his sleep attire in front of a stranger.
You blinked comically like an owl, trying to process what was happening.
To an outsider, the encounter might seem to be brimming with awkwardness and tension, but you soon found his dorky childlike glee endearing.
When was the last time you wore your heart on your sleeve like that?
Especially now with Suguru, you constantly had to plaster on a veneer of nonchalance and calm that belied your love and passion.
It was nice to finally put down that wall, even if it was just temporary.
The reminder that you were still supposed to meet Suguru and help him for an upcoming event didn’t slip your mind though, and soon you gently cut Gojo off with a small smile.
“You must be Suguru’s roommate. Um, I’m here to help with his event. Is he here?”
Instantly, his brows furrowed and his face fell.
“Oh! I’m Gojo. Yeah, I’ve heard of you. But uh, he didn’t tell me he was expecting you this morning. I’ll let him know – just, just come on in and sit.”
After ushering you in and gesturing for you to make yourself comfortable on the couch in the living room, Gojo slipped towards the cluster of bedroom doors.
He didn’t have to make it far when it was painfully clear why Geto wasn’t greeting you at the door like he typically did when he requested your help.
Breathy moans and muffled whines emanated from a closed door, causing Gojo to freeze the second time that morning.
The blood in your body turned to ice and you stiffened instinctively.
You tried not to notice when Gojo cast you surreptitious glances, his panic and uncertainty growing. His raised fist paused midway, and he stopped himself from rapping on the wooden door.
What followed next didn’t help one bit.
The telltale slam of a headboard, and smacks of skin only confirmed what you tried your hardest to deny.
You weren’t even a bedwarmer for the man.
You were reserved for alleyway fucks and dark corners.
You weren’t even a shameful secret for him to hide.
You weren’t anything.
For someone lacking that much in the self esteem department, you surprisingly managed to hold onto the resolution not to shed any tears in front of Gojo with an iron grip.
Leaping to your feet, you grabbed your purse from the couch and headed straight for the door. The pain from biting your lip impossibly hard was nothing compared to the sheer agony of how everything in your heart basically imploded on itself though.
“Hey– hold up! Wait! Just a sec–”
You couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to see the look of pity on Gojo’s face. It must have been painfully clear that you were in love with his asshole of a roommate.
Any regard for consideration went out the window and you barrelled through the door like a storm, slamming it shut in your wake.
As you scrambled down the stairs, you focused on breathing in and exhaling, reminding yourself to just run.
Run.
One step at a time.
Run.
It was only when you finally left the apartment complex and turned a corner near a convenience store that you stopped to catch your breath, shaking from the exertion and adrenaline.
What does one do when one loses faith?
What other deity takes its place?
You’ve spent so much of your time and love on Suguru; you didn’t know who you were without being his follower.
A sobering splash of ice cold water seemed to jolt you back to reality. The actual reality of who you were before you let yourself orbit around Geto.
Shaking now from indignation and determination, you dug out your phone from your purse to block Geto everywhere.
“I’m sorry.”
A hushed whisper coming from behind you made you spin around in alarm, nearly losing your balance from the whiplash.
A firm hand grabbed you by the arm, stabilising you before enveloping you into a crushing hug.
“He’s a dick. I knew you liked him.”
Gojo.
Being anchored against his chest began to chip away at your resolve alarmingly fast.
In that moment, being ensconced in his warm embrace – you couldn’t help the shuddering wave of tears and the racking sobs.
Is this how it would have felt if Geto actually liked you?
As the tears subsided, you belatedly realised that Gojo had been patting your head, his hand moving up and down almost mechanically, as if he were afraid of fracturing you further.
His white shirt now soaked, you pulled back from his embrace, taking him in whilst pawing at your puffy face clumsily to wipe away the remnants of your grief.
The silence seemed to drag on as your gaze hovered at the splotches on Gojo’s shirt, before lowering to the familiar pink fluffy monstrosity that was Koromon on his feet.
A frenzied peal of laughter filled the air when you realised that this man chased you down a street in pink fuzzy slippers and his cartoon-printed boxers.
Wordlessly, you leaned forward, letting Gojo rest his chin on the top of your head.
In that corner street, the two of you silently soaked in the sun, your heartbeat slowing to match his in tandem.
For once, you didn’t really care about anyone else but yourself.
Once upon a time, radio silence would have stung – for an entire week, Geto didn’t try to apologise or explain, much less reach out.
Even if you had blocked his contact, you knew he had other ways of finding you.
Perhaps a small part of you did leave him open avenues, so he could slink back into your life.
The parts of your life that used to be filled with Geto were suddenly replaced with movie marathons with Satoru, who mumbled that he’d like your number after dropping you at home that day.
Instead of fluorescent convention lights and practising awkward smiles, your life was now filled with Digimon reruns and game nights.
A heaping bowl of sweet caramel popcorn sat in between the two of you as Gojo reached in by the handfuls.
Being with Gojo… was easy.
“By the way, that voice actor–”
“The new Tamagotchi drop is–”
“I got a new board game. Wanna play?”
Suguru snagged your attention effortlessly, but you always had to try to become someone else with him. You had to work so hard to transform into someone you thought deserved his affection.
While he demanded so much from you, Gojo just gave.
After your melt down, you never thought you’d be crying in front of Satoru again so soon.
But the man just loved to prove you wrong.
When he came over on a random Tuesday, armed with a simple cardboard box, he simply thrust it in your arms with an expectant look.
With your brow furrowed in confusion, you tore through layers of delicate tissue paper only to reveal a pair of pink fuzzy Koromon slippers in your size.
“H-how did you… It’s sold out everywhere!” you gasped, astonished and touched.
With a twinkle in his eye, Gojo dramatically put a finger to his lips and winked. “I have my ways. A magician never reveals.”
“Satoru! You didn’t have to!”
“Well, duh.” He rolled his eyes good naturedly. “I got it for you because I wanted to.”
You suppose you should have seen it coming. After months of never being seen, Gojo’s words hit hard, and for the second time in the short duration of knowing Satoru, you burst into tears.
“Thank you.”
I think I’m too lame for Suguru now, Gojo admits in the dark one day, the side profile of his face lit up by the incandescent television.
The vulnerable statement hangs in the air, as Satoru goes on to mumble about Geto going to clubs and events, partying and drinking, never wanting to game or watch the shows they used to watch together.
“He’s, like, got his own cult or something,” Gojo scoffs, miffed at losing his best friend.
Of course, it was unspoken -– that you used to be a member of his cult.
But you set aside the sour feeling, and focused on the man on the couch next to you. Belying his haughty tone, you detected a faint note of genuine sadness and shame.
Geto moved on to bigger, better things while he stayed a loser. A nerd. A dork. All the labels everyone used to slap on him before pointing and laughing.
You knew what that was like.
Placing a hand over his, you rubbed your thumb comfortingly.
It was your turn to be strong for Gojo.
Maybe it was the cheap beer, or the indulgent sweets.
Or the fact that you were two people who could understand and wallow in the same pain of loving someone who didn’t love you back the way you needed him to.
Under the cover of darkness, you were struck by an indescribable urge to kiss him.
To comfort him? Perhaps. You certainly didn’t relish in his sorrow, not when Satoru had been such a sweet and earnest friend. You wanted to make him feel better.
But you couldn’t admit for the longest time, until now that is, that it was mostly out of a desire to finally do something on your own terms, to finally be true to yourself without holding back.
And you wanted him.
“Satoru,” you began in a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
With a quirk of your lips, you murmured gently, “I knew you liked him. He’s a dick.” The familiar echo of the words he once said to you just felt right in that moment. Suppressing the urge to giggle, you tried to widen your doe eyes in faux sympathy, hoping to cheer him up.
That did it. Gojo burst into a sharp peal of laughter, caught off guard by your wittiness and ability to find humour in even the strangest and gravest of situations.
“At least I met you,” he admitted honestly.
You were glad you met him too. He wasn’t as suave as Geto, but his bluntness and piercing blue eyes always remained honest.
Just as he saw you, you were finally brave enough to see Gojo Satoru for who he was. Not Suguru’s roommate, or some nerdy guy trying to pick you up.
He was a friend.
A lonely soul who commiserated.
A good man who tries, and fails, and tries again.
A strong man.
A man you loved, not a god you worshipped blindly. A man who loved you back.
“Move in with me,” you whispered.
The low volume belied your quiet conviction.
“Alright,” Satoru murmured in response, holding your gaze intently. “I’ll make pancakes every morning.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
A/N: super behind on my existing stories and drafts but I've been attending various community events and got hit with a lil idea heh to be honest I don't want writing to be a source of stress so I won't be committing to any upload schedule because my day job takes up way too much time...
Reblogs, comments, likes would be greatly appreciated! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟthank you taking the time to read!
Please do not translate, copy, or feed my work to AI. Basic DNI rules apply for minors; please be kind in the comments! Hate speech or intolerance of any kind will not be accepted.
alt!bf!geto hates PDA, yet without fail, he’ll show up at your door clutching a bouquet so obnoxiously colorful it clashes comically with his all-black fit (plus your favorite coffee order, sugar enough to make his teeth ache).
alt!bf!geto has got immaculate style, gathered through years of thrifting and vintage shopping, but he guards his expensive sweaters like a kid hoards candy. Except when you’re shivering. Then, and only then, will he “reluctantly” drape one over your shoulders (you’ve got 5 of his sweaters by now and he’s not asked for any of them back).
alt!bf!geto is a masochist through and through – loves when you catch his labret piercing between your teeth, or twist your tongue around his piercing until he winces, feeling pain and pleasure as he whimpers.
alt!bf!geto plays in a pop-rock band, and his members are slowly losing their patience with him pitching songs that are all about you. Every riff is a love letter of your times together and every lyric is committed to how beautiful you are.
alt!bf!geto has also been secretly burning through your Olaplex conditioners, because his hair has never felt this soft. Meanwhile, you’re oblivious, wondering why he suddenly looks like he stepped out of a shampoo commercial.
alt!bf!geto is a tattoo apprentice, and he loves his side-gig, but mostly because you volunteered your skin as his portfolio. Now every piece he inks is a claim over you as he designs pieces related to him on your body, as if he were branding you as his.
alt!bf!geto is a gentleman. He’ll drop to his knees without a word to tie your laces, or slip off your heels just to press a kiss on your arch, no matter how much you protest. Sometimes you genuinely question if he has a thing for feet.
alt!bf!geto's insomnia works in his favor while you’re asleep, as he sketches your face from every angle, doodling pages with your proportions like a devoted stalker.
alt!bf!geto is into knifeplay, too – tracing the blade along your throat just to lap at the beads of crimson trickling, swearing they taste sweeter than any dessert.
alt!bf!geto adores when you pull his hair while he eats you out, while he cries out in pain. He insists he’s growing it out *specifically* for that, so you can shove his face deeper and fist his strands harder.
alt!bf!geto only posts you on social media. He’s subtle, posting pictures of your hand with his bracelet, your eyes tattooed over his toned chest, two coffee cups side by side with your name plastered on one. No girl dares to DM him after seeing how obsessed he is with you.
alt!bf!geto's weakest hours are the mornings. He clings to you like a pathetic animal, buried in your warmth, letting out sleepy moans and pathetic little cries as his glazed purple eyes flutter, making your chest tighten with how badly he needs you.
Satoru Gojo didn't think he'd cum in his pants on his first lap dance of his twenty-first birthday.
But there you were- grinding right on his cock to the music - in some slutty little outfit that hardly covered your tits, glittering underneath the red lights. Pretty nipples pressing up underneath that thin lacy material, just begging for his mouth.
He didn't know what to do with his hands, clenched at their sides, when faced with this milf's hips that look so breedable.
It's not like Satoru has even had sex yet - not for lack of opportunities, no - Satoru simply was a busy man, had his early master's degree, top of his class.
Hence why Sukuna and Suguru are laughing, watching him lose his shit with their favorite dancer.
You, their favorite dancer at this club. Oh, and you loved them not just because they tipped well, they were hot of course, but they were the kind of clients to ask about your day. You'd giggle as they did a line right off your neck, letting both of them have your cunt rock against their lap.
You were a single mom with bills to pay, and this was the only way you could stay all day - to dance at night while your mom let the baby sleep over. Was it what you wanted to do? Not forever
But damn you made good money.
Suguru and Sukuna frequently hit the VIP, and that's where everything got just a little filthy, but even then, they were all about you. Kissing on your neck, gripping your thighs, mentioning bringing their nerdy little friend last time and how much he'd just love you - apparently he was a bit of a milf lover.
You didn't expect Gojo to look like this though - nerdy, sure, but you could feel those muscles underneath his dress shirt, you could feel his long fingers pressing into your flesh. He’s blushing even underneath the red lights, you can see it on the bridge of his nose, his teeth sinking into his lower lip.
"Is this okay with you?" His friends are laughing at his questions, so you shoot them a glare.
"Sorry, mommy," they both tease, pouting as you roll your eyes, focusing back on Satoru, your hands pressing into his shoulders, long manicured nails pressing in just a bit.
"Focus on me," you tease, rolling your hips and pausing when you feel it. "Good boy, there you go."
He's huge, fuck.
Pulsing underneath his khaki slacks, making your cunt drip. Sure, some clients you got a little excited, but your damn cunt was drooling when he drags you down with his fingers digging into your waist, his tip nudging your twitchy clit underneath the glittering thong you're wearing.
"So pretty," he murmurs all cute, looking up at you, his lips almost brushing a little stretch mark on the side of your tit. "Cute."
Cute.
You pause a bit, heart hammering in your chest, suddenly so intimate you forget his friends and your fellow dancers are in here. You're blushing right with him when he whines out, jerking his hips up again.
"S-sorry, is that... okay to do?! I..." He's got fucked out blue eyes, dark with need, you manage a nod, feeling almost nervous when you've been dancing for two years now - putting yourself through college and paying it with a little baby?
Well it was expensive.
So this job meant a lot - and that also meant not being a blushing mess, no matter how hot the client. But you fear you're rubbing on him with no real rythym, chasing that high of cumming when that's against your own damn rules - his friends have girls on their laps, giggles and soft moans mixing with the loud bass.
But you can only hear Satoru Gojo's whimper.
A whimper that has your cunt clenching around air.
"Feel good?" You murmur in his ear, trying to act unaffected.
He nods, lips hesitantly kissing across your neck, plump lips tasting the glitter right off your skin, just that he can feel himself leak and stick to his digimon boxers, long fingers tightening their grip against your flesh.
"V-very I'm... ah, I'm..." you're soaking wet and so hot, it takes every bit of effort not to slide your panties aside and lose his virginity then and there. He's trembling when you pull back, your cheeks hot to the touch when he caresses them, stealing a little kiss, whining into your mouth. "Sorry..."
"No," you kiss him right back, and with one more movement of your hips - Satoru is busting, so much so it leaks through his boxers, the hot sticky mess clinging to your ruined panties, his moans barely muffled. "Mnh, s'okay..."
"Fuck I just... shit..." He's shutting his eyes and whining, knowing if Suguru and Sukuna knew they'd make fun of him, but you seem to be right with him, whining out, teeth catching your lower lip, gushing all down his lap.
The two of you pause, and you look down to see the mess you both made.
"Oh! Oh," you're both stammering, blushing little messes despite having each others' cum on your skin. "Let me um... I'll... come with me!"
You're dragging him so fast away, struggling to wipe him with napkins in the locker room, smearing the mess of fluids as you kneel.
"It's not coming out, ugh!" You keep wiping at it when you realize you're face level with his cock, and it's already tenting again. "Um, you can tie this around your waist!"
"Oh," you're snatching up your hoodie, tying it and trying to adjust it, when he cups your face, kissing you again, when he gathers the courage - taking a breath.
"Can we have a date?"
"A date...you want..."
"Please?" He pouts all cute, his glasses foggy from your kiss. "So I can give you back your hoodie."
You giggle now. "I have a kid though and..."
"Even better." You blink, then study his dilated blue eyes, his cute cheeks all bright pink. Fuck he's adorable.
"You are a milf hunter then, they were right!" he shakes his head.
"You'd be my first for... all of it. If you want!?" He is stammering now, all nervous, rubbing the back of his neck "We could just hang out, I don't need to..."
"Gojo..."
"Satoru, please. I just came in my pants, can you not tell I like you?"
"You're cute, Satoru..." you manage with a little laugh, tapping his lips. "I'll go on a date with you."
"Yes! I mean!? Okay," he tries to play it cool, even as his heart is racing, getting your number and texting you.
His friends might make fun of that pink hoodie on his waist, but he's the one who is getting a date with you <3
*****
hehe just something cute, I never make toru a virgin ahaha <3
+18 ; matsukawa issei x f!reader (with some hanamaki on the side)
being roommates with mattsun and walking in on him jerking off, but instead of doing the polite thing of excusing yourself and closing the door again, you stay in the room and slam the door shut behind you; eyes glued to the cock you've heard myths and legends about (from makki and the thin walls of your apartment from women and men alike).
mattsun is on the phone and worldlessly pats the empty spot on the bed next to him, his cock bouncing off his stomach until he grips it again (you swear it happens in slow motion), and who are you to decline an invitation like that?
"say hi to hiro," he says and holds the phone against your ear when you sit impossibly close and rest your chin on his shoulder, eyes still glued to his can sized cock.
"hi, hiro. how does that even fit," you huff in disbelief and protest, as if offended that 1) you're only seeing it now and 2) it's nowhere inside of you. on the other end of the line you can hear makki curse and laugh under his breath, almost as if he had been waiting for this to happen.
"careful, you're gonna give a man an ego," mattsun hums, now gently grabbing your wrist and guiding your hand towards the base of his cock. you can barely wrap your fingers around it. it's dizzying, the way he twitches under your slow strokes and how quick you're soaking through your cotton panties, barely concealed by the old band shirt (once owned by mattsun) you're wearing.
"aren't you gonna fuck him?" makki asks teasingly and with mild impatience, the phone now propped up against a pillow (you assume so you can switch to a video call later). you dry swallow at the sight and the massive weight of matsukawa issei's cock in your hands, then glance up to meet his eyes. they're dark with lust and hunger, yet something remarkably gentle in them, too. oh, he's gonna make it fit.
"only if you're gonna stay on the phone with us," you say as you shift on the bed to perch yourself on mattsun's thigh, the friction of it making you mewl. his hands come up to your hips, guiding your rocking movements. the muscles of his stomach flex with every breath he sucks in. "someone has to talk me through it or else i might cry."
you haven’t crossed that final line yet. not really. not fully.
but one soft kiss turns into another, and another, and somehow you’re in his lap, straddling those thick thighs, mouths moving lazy and hungry. his hands are on your waist, careful, respectful… until you shift just right.
your hips roll down against the hard line of his cock and he lets out this sinful little groan that goes straight to your core.
so you do it again.
and again.
and again.
valko’s breathing gets shaky. his glasses are sitting on his face crooked now , and he’s making these soft, desperate whimpers against your mouth every time you grind down. you can feel how hard he is through both layers of clothes, thick and throbbing under you, and you’re so wet it’s almost embarrassing. he can smell it. you know he can. his nose keeps brushing your neck like he’s trying to breathe you in.
you’re so close. so fucking close. but you need more. you need him closer.
he’s trying so hard not to thrust up against you. you can feel the way his hips keep twitching, the way he’s holding himself back with everything he has. his hands are shaking on your waist.
“sweetheart-ngh-we should stop-“
you grind down harder and he breaks.
a broken, high little sound leaves his throat as his hips jerk up against you once, twice, and then he’s coming in his pants with a quiet, wrecked moan, forehead pressed to your shoulder, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, trembling all over.
you’re still so wet. still so close.
and he’s looking at you like he just did something unforgivable but all you can think is how pretty he looks when he falls apart.
teasing your loser boyfriend until he cums in his pants is probably your second favorite hobby.
the first?
well, unfortunately that’s being teased by your loser boyfriend.
“come on, baby,” gojo purred, thumb deliberately ghosting right over your sensitive clit instead of on it beneath your skirt. “thought you said you could take it.”
“shut the fuck up,” you hissed, nails digging into his pale forearm as your brain belatedly recognized the familiar click! of the remote hidden in his pocket, the vibrator pulsing inside you kicking up another notch.
was this his payback for making him moan out loud in the middle of geto’s quiet birthday dinner? or for that one time you jerked him off in a bathroom stall and made him walk around stores for an hour with cum in his boxers?
“m’so jealous of that toy right now,” he murmured in your ear, his thigh pressed hard against yours in the restaurant booth as you eyed the bulge outlined in his jeans. he just had to be that couple every time you went out to eat, occupying every atom of your personal space as he gave you that pretty pout of his. “bet you’re squeezing it real tight.”
“i hate you,” you half-whispered, blood rushing to your face as you bit your bottom lip to hide a moan. glancing around anxiously to make sure no one had noticed what a mess he was making of you.
“you adore me.”
and god, when he grinned at you like that, you couldn’t help how close you were, thighs squeezing together as fire roared through your veins, the pressure building and building-
“too bad you’ll have to wait until till we get home to prove it,” he smirked, winking at you as the toy inside you stopped.
“i’m breaking up with you,” you hissed back, flustered and frustrated as you shamelessly squirmed in the seat, chasing friction as the heat in your core started to dissipate.
“good luck,” gojo chuckled. “you’re stuck with me.”
and apparently with a vibrator in you for the rest of your meal.
you've been set to marry the new emperor Satoru Gojo, but he wants nothing to do it, he doesn't even come to your first meeting! No, he must bathe with his concubines, but when he sees you for the first time and doesn't even know you're his wife? Everything shifts. Leaving your past love behind and everything you know for a foreign country, just to be unwanted by your new 'husband' is almost enough to break you. You're ready to go through the motions, play your role, but do you really know who Emperor Gojo is? Can both of you find an agreement or love - and once you do, how do you be just one of his women?
pairings- emperor! gojo x arranged empress! reader
contents/warnings - Historically INNACURATE, enemies to lovers, mutual pining, smut, court tactics, reader missing her lover Suguru, drama, he falls first and he falls hard. This chap - a lot of emotions and angst, past loves, Suguru in his regret arc, cute, down bad Satoru - he is SO IN LOVE. No smut, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of violence, say hi to Jin Shi too!!
A/N - I made this one a little shorter so I can actually start putting these out again more regularly, 10k plus is a little fkn daunting ahh! We have three more chapters to wrap these cuties up. Ty for everyone who was so patient!
art is by @3-aem they're insanely talented 🥹
part seven - playlist - masterlist - part nine (soon)
part eight
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Satoru asks you the next morning – Lola is locked up and so is Suguru, down in the dungeons.
Satoru wants them both dead, however he needs Suguru alive for just a bit.
Your dumb fucking Knight.
He looks at you carefully, his baby blue eyes flickering against your skin, you’re still not fully your normal color, paled just a bit, he pauses – brushing a lock of your hair back as you walk to him. “Should you even be up?”
“I will go insane laying in bed all day,” you sway just a bit, his hand coming to grip your waist, leaning down and kissing the top of your head.
“Foolish girl, can’t even stand up,” he clicks his tongue, you rest your head against his chest, hugging him tightly around his waist, yawning just a bit. “Go back to sleep.”
“I must see what is going on,” your mind races – a million thoughts abound, wondering just what exactly had transpired.
It was only bits and pieces.
The emperor sighs, shaking his head as he buries his face against your neck, he’s exhausted, too. He barely got a bit of sleep before convening with the barrister, holding an emergency meeting of his council due to Lola’s return, and the poisoning of his Empress. The one in his arms, so very weak – but she is alive.
“I hated leaving the bed,” he admits softly, brushing your hair back, his nose nuzzling the crook of your neck, inhaling again, like he can’t get enough of you. “I was so fucking scared that…”
“I am here, Emperor,” you whisper, tears stinging your eyes. “I am feeling mostly back to normal, I promise.”
“And has there been any…” He trails off, unable to finish, feeling you tense just a bit, pulling back to look up at him, as he cups your face.
“No,” you whisper – knowing his question without him asking.
Blood.
Has there been any blood?
Were you still pregnant?
“None at all?” He asks, swallowing visibly, his eyes burning, dark circles marring his otherwise perfect complexion. You grip his wrist gently, shaking your head.
“None at all, Toru,” he exhales in relief, though he doesn’t want to get too excited – you still had been poisoned, even with Mao’s quick work of it. “I am going to get checked in a bit, I just… wanted to know about… her.”
“Lola?” He says it like a curse word – it is one, truly. You nod. “She’s locked up for the moment, but she won’t live to see the week.”
“Toru, should you truly-”
“I will kill her,” he cuts you off, ever so quiet, tilting your chin. “For everything she fucking did. Don’t you try to talk me out of it.”
“And… Sir Geto?”
He sighs, shaking his head. “I need his testimony, so I offered a deal – you can decide his fate. I’m sure you’d be a little more kind to that man than I would be.”
You go to open your mouth, when the door opens, and advisor Ijichi comes in, pushing up his monocle, smiling with relief as he sees you. “My Empress, it’s so good to see you awake.”
“Ijichi,” you rush up and hug him, making the man blush. “I heard you carried me to safety, yes?”
“Of course I did, it was no bother,” he’s a flustered mess, Satoru can’t help but laugh softly at the sight of him awkwardly patting your back. “I come bearing some news for you both.”
“I’m listening,” Satoru’s hand doesn’t leave the small of your back, the warmth seeping through your layers, your silk underlayers, your pretty dress, one that Satoru’s mom had made for you.
You couldn’t help but love the little touches of home with the added lace, the billowing sleeves. You love her so very much, she had checked on you much this morning, and you hated that she was worried like that over you – though perhaps no one went through as much as Satoru that night, from what you heard.
‘It was terrible,’ she had said, sniffling – usually a formidable woman, she was vulnerable laying next to you in the bed as you’d brushed her hair back. ‘You shouldn’t be comforting me!’
‘I put you both through a fright,’ she had sighed, snuggling up, the infamous Gojo strands much like her son’s. One would almost think her as a sister, she still looked so very young and lovely, even with reddened eyes. ‘How bad was it for him? I hope he did not…’
‘Lose it completely?’ You nodded, swallowing. ‘I thought I’d lose him and you together with how he acted.’
‘Mama Gojo, do not say that,’ your heart ached then. ‘I cannot have him hurting himself over me.’
‘I was terrified,’ she had swiped her eyes, shaking her head and exhaling. ‘I am also scared of… if you’re…’
‘We weren’t sure if I was pregnant completely, yet,’ you tried to smile, but it fell flat. ‘I will get checked soon.’
‘If anything happens to that baby, I’ll kill-’
‘Mama Gojo!’
She had been very serious.
To think of what Satoru went through while you were unconscious breaks your heart, you only know a bit, likely to not upset you further. But you feel it, how tightly he’s holding you, like he can’t stand to pull away – and you don’t want him to, you want to be locked right in his embrace for as long as you could be.
“Sir Geto would like to talk to the Empress alone,” Satoru scoffs, and you can’t help but tense up. “I told him you would not allow such a thing, but even so – if you did, I would go down with her as protection.”
“Fuck him, I should put him out to be hung,” he curses, holding you so tight you wince, making him pause. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“You’re all right, Toru,” you smile reassuringly. “I don’t think Geto would hurt me if I-”
“He almost killed you!?”
“That was Lola,” you mumble, Satoru laughs again, a psychotic sound, as if he was actively losing it, brushing a hand through his hair until it’s a mess. “I’m not saying he isn’t to blame, but there are a couple questions I need answered before you throw him out of a tower window.”
“He’ll splatter so lovely,” Satoru says, longingly – you giggle a little, shaking your head at him. “No?”
“I have some things I really need to know…” He knows what you mean, the past you had shared and just how much of that was questionable, how much did Suguru lie to you over the years?
He got the note when they confiscated everything Suguru had, but he has not brought it up to you, not yet. Not realizing how horrible he made you feel when you first got there, how lonely and hopeless – he’d read it several times just this morning as you slept, restless, tossing and turning in the bed as he sat at that desk.
He doesn’t know how to bring it up, to apologize – you surely must think he’d be furious about it, but he is not.
Of course you missed home during that time, and the perceived ‘perfection’ of Suguru and the comforts of a place you grew up in.
“Then I shall allow you to have your moments alone,” you hug him tightly, letting him brush back your hair. “Kiyo will stay close to the door.”
“You may as well, Toru… I just…”
“No, I realize there is much to be said,” he sighs now, chin resting on your head. “I’m so very exhausted.”
“As am I, I just wish we could…”
“Yes,” he grimaces now. “I also must speak to the little murderous harlot.”
“You’re going to kill her!”
“I am.”
“You must let it go to the council,” you chide, staring into narrowed blue eyes. “It’s our best chance to rid ourselves of the concubines altogether.”
“She is correct,” Ijichi chides, and Satoru looks at him over your head. “The royal advisor Jinshi has offered his advice to you, your excellence.”
“No calling me that when it’s just us,” Satoru waves his hand, Ijichi can’t stop his blush, you giggle at how cute it is.
“Master Gojo, then.”
“Call him Toru!”
“I didn’t say that familiar!?”
“Toru is cute,” you pinch his cheek, he snorts and smacks your hand off his cheek playfully. “I hear this advisor is very important, and from what I can tell, versed in politics very much. He would be good to convene with, yes?”
“Indeed,” Satoru sighs a little dramatically, though. “I never get enough time alone with my bride.”
“We shall have much time, very soon. Hmm?” You’re running your hands up his chest, his voice drops to a murmur.
“Not until you’re all better, you bratty empress.”
You pout up at him.
“You were just poisoned.”
“I know! A little bit.”
“A little!?”
“Ahem,” Ijichi reminds you both of his presence, waving his hand again at the two of you. “We have much to do, you two. I will not leave her alone for a moment, I promise you this time.”
“Oh Ijichi,” you walk over to him, taking his hand. “You did nothing wrong that night, I was in my room.”
“I still…”
“You helped save me,” you smile reassuringly, watching him relax his shoulders just a little bit at your words. You look back at your husband, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed under those gold silk robes. “We will make sure to have dinner tonight, alone, and take a bath together. Won’t we, Toru?”
“I can’t handle a bath like…” He doesn’t say it all – but you grin, as if you know he’d be tortured, unable to not have his cock buried inside of you.
It’s been weeks.
Yet you just had a terrible thing happen, and he must be careful.
“Stop being so slutty in front of Ijichi.”
“Your Excellence! Do not speak of the Empress this way!?”
“Indeed, do not!?” You stick out your tongue as you hook your arm through Ijichi’s, earning his glare. “Dinner, and then the bathhouse.”
“Go on, then,” you both walk together, but you can’t help but tense, as you look back at Satoru, turning and walking the opposite direction in the courtyard.
You never do get enough time with the man you love, and there is still so much to learn about each other, so much you must do together, speak of, work on. Yet all you want is to be in his arms, on his lap, kissing him until your head spins, and you’re dizzy, resting in the comfort you had missed so much.
When he turns a corner, his eyes catch yours, and you feel that weight in his gaze, that sad little smile, as if he’s dreading the day, too.
Yet, there is much hope for the two of you.
First, however? There was much to discuss with a couple of infiltrators.
******
The dungeons Satoru has Suguru locked up in are chilled, it’s utterly dark, every step down the spiraling stairs echoing with your heels clicking against them. Your heart is pounding, as Ijichi walks behind you, heading down first, holding his hand up for you to take with a nervous smile.
“Are you all right, my lady?”
“I am,” you assure him, but his concern lingers. “Say it, then.”
He sighs. “You’re doing too much for just having been poisoned, the state you were in was…”
“I swear I feel fine, whatever the pretty girl Maomao gave me worked wonders,” you try again to calm him, but you see his judgement even in the dark, with the little lanterns hanging on the walls. “Truly!”
“Mmm,” you both keep walking. “You are stubborn like the Emperor.”
“That stubborn?”
“Mhm,” your lips quirk up. “It’s not funny, my lady. You know you both age me beyond my years!?”
“He did that before I came, and you’re most handsome, all mature,” he blushes even in the dark, guiding you down the hall now.
“Don’t use your charms, they won’t work today.”
“They always do.”
“Hmph,” your mood sobers up a bit as you catch sight of Suguru's cell at the end of the corridor, the only one bathed in the small lighting.
“Is Lola elsewhere?” You ask softly.
“She is.” Kiyotaka says nothing else, stopping then at the bars that block Suguru’s cell, taking a key and unlocking it.
Suguru sees the action immediately, and stands as your footsteps approach – the heavy chains around his wrists and ankles rattling just a bit. His fine knightly gear is all gone, replaced by a basic white tunic, that dark hair – usually so perfect, is thrown up in a messy pony tail. Those eyes that were the last thing you saw before you fainted, have dark circles underneath them, like he hasn’t slept.
"Princess..." he begins, seeing Kiyotaka and clearing his throat, correcting himself with a ghost of a smile. "Empress, I mean.”
“Indeed…” You let Kiyotaka open the door now, stepping inside, peeking back at him. “I will be all right, Kiyo. Promise.”
“One touch on her hair,” Ijichi warns, Suguru sighs.
“I would not hurt her,” the tension is palpable when he steps back, giving you some privacy alone in the cell, when so many emotions rush through, you’re shaking, hands trembling.
“I don’t know whether to speak or smack you,” you admit, laughing without any real humor, as he frowns. “Or punch you. Or kick your dick.”
“Kick my dick?” He raises a brow, and you shove at him, tears already forming in your eyes, but he lets you. He lets you shove him, stumbling back when a big man like him never would, taking your hand on his chest to pause you. “I suppose I deserve much worse.”
“You deserve the worst, and Satoru will give you no mercy unless I ask,” you shut your eyes, feeling the tears slip from your eyes. “I should not, either.”
“I never imagined..." Suguru trails off, his voice breaking in the middle, hand hovering like he might cup your face.
Your jaw sets. "Never imagined what, Suguru? That I'd see you here? Or that you'd help try to kill me?"
He falters now, stepping back a bit as if slapped, but he doesn’t release your wrists until you yank them back, clutching your hands into fists, pulse racing so quickly you feel dizzy.
"Never that.” That dark amethyst gaze locks onto yours – so exhausted, so beyond dark, the intensity making you tense up.
“Oh, never that, hmm?”
"I started under false pretenses,” you scoff at that. “Yes, I did initially – try to be everything and anything you could love.”
The pain hits so hard you can’t breathe.
Though you were in love with Satoru – so fucking in love, it didn’t erase the years of being ‘with’ Suguru, your knight by your side, promising to be with you even as you were just a young child. The hurt knowing that you were just a part of some bigger scheme didn’t go away, and you need that closure, truly.
Even if it’s painful.
“I’d like to know about it more, just exactly your plan – would you be honest with me?” He nods, tugging out one of the old wooden chairs in the cell, where there lay parchment paper and pens.
“Please sit.”
“Fine,” you mumble, seeing your name scrawled on several crumbled sheets of paper, making your eyes burn with tears. “Will you even tell the truth?”
“I won't lie to you again.”
“How long?”
He sits across from you, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes shutting. In the darkness, he does not look as imposing as you’re used to.
He looks tired.
“I was put there when I met you, to slowly gather intel against the royal family -”
“My family!”
“Your family made how many people starve?” His words are sharp, he appears to regret them when you jerk back as if slapped. “I mean not you – the royals in general, they care not for anyone but themselves.”
“I cared, I was just… not in power. How often did I take the unfortunate food, clothing? How often did I sneak out for you to find me?”
“You’re different,” he cups your face, sighing now. “I knew you were different, even more so to try to get you to my side. You were the perfect pawn.”
A pawn.
You knew it, but it didn’t lessen the blow.
“But then..." He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Then I watched you, got to really know you. Intimately.”
“Indeed,” you blush furiously, gripping your gown so tightly the fabric crumples underneath your touch. “In ways you should have never been in such falsehood.”
“My desire for you was not false,” you hate Suguru in that moment, even if he’s being truthful, the pain is bitter as it washes through you until you’re sick. “You think I didn’t want you?”
“To get some sick revenge on my parents, perhaps.” His jaw locks as you lower his hand from your face. “You should not have stolen my first kiss, touched me … you should not have.”
“I know that, I was supposed to do worse.”
“Worse!?” You practically hiss the damn word. “Worse?”
“Much worse, to you and many others,” he leans back now, shaking his head. “It was not just you that I have had to play to get intel, to try to take over.”
“I see, one of many? That’s what those kisses meant, those fucking words?”
His brows draw together, pain written on his face. “I’ll never forgive myself for it… but I did want you. None of that was pretend, how I touched you, kissed you… I fell in love with you.”
“What lies, hah,” you feel bile rise in your throat.
“Truly. I still am in love, fuck even more than before."
Tears prick at your eyes and begin to swim, until his very image is utterly blurred. "You loved me enough to let Lola poison me? To use me as a weapon in your pathetic war against royals?"
“I wanted you by my side.”
“And with Satoru, hmm?”
"I was an idiot," he whispers, his fingers surprisingly gentle as they brush a stray tear from your cheek, you tremble with your anger. "Jealous, dumb fucking idiot.. I hated him for having you so easily, for forgetting me.”
“I did not, I kept… I kept that necklace, I kept the pin, I cared so much I did not even let myself feel anything. For what!? For a fake love.”
“It was not.”
“Then you so easily just let Lola in? You truly had no inkling she would try to harm me?”
“I don't know what I thought, but I never imagined she'd go this far. I swear it." He leans his forehead against yours, his breath against your skin, in a familiar way he should have never done with you. “I never wanted you at risk. I wanted to bring you back with me.”
“And do what to my parents, Suguru?”
He’s quiet again.
That tells you all you need to know.
“I get that royalty has its problems, I know I’m naive about the state of the world, but to use me after knowing me so long…” Your tears fall freely now. “I was worthy of some respect.”
“You were worth much more than I could ever give,” you take a breath and lean back again, hands clutching and unclutching once more, his eyes darting to the action. “You always did that when you were nervous.”
“Stop acting so familiar,” you stand now, shaking.
"Kill me now if you must… I'd die by your hand," you look at him now, feeling the emotions hitting so hard.
Even though he had done something so dangerous, so foolish…
You could not kill him.
“That would be your easy way out,” you say instead, shaking your head as he tugs you to him, taking one of your hands and putting it on his chest. A stream of memories hit, but they’re different now.
There isn’t that longing anymore, and there’s hardly any anger, no yearning for the girl that you were, and how simple things ‘were’. No, you are not that young Princess now, even though it’s been a short time, under Satoru you have grown much – you are completely different, in fact, with him.
In the best and worst ways.
You are different because of Satoru, a part of you that loved Suguru is in there somewhere, but she is in your past, left with a girl who can’t help but feel somewhat terrible for what he’s in. It’s not truly his own doing, and you understand the cause, but he had so callously and coldly not cared for you enough to even let you in on it.
“Would you have understood?” He asks now. “You, a young princess?”
“I may have if you gave me a chance,” he leans down and presses his kiss against your brow, a farewell that you allow him.
“He got that letter even though I did not give it to him,” you suck in a breath, gaze matching his. “I did not want to cause discourse, but they took it all from me.”
“He saw it…” Your eyes close. “I will speak to him.”
“He is so in love with you,” Suguru laughs, shaking his head. “I almost like that pretentious man, fuck him.”
“Well in another life, if you weren’t so terrible, maybe you’d have been friends,” you whisper, letting him press another kiss on your temple, lingering for a moment. “I shall not have you killed.”
“You should, by all means, have me killed. I already told everything about your parents, there is no-”
“I will not,” you correct, firmer this time – and Suguru sees you then.
Chin up, stubborn set to it, your hands little fists at your sides as you eye him.
You’re every bit an Empress now.
“Why?” He asks softly, watching your face and wishing he could fix it – fix everything, but he knows this kindness is already more than he deserves.
His letters that he keeps writing come out wrong, but mostly, all he can think over and over, is that you’ll be his biggest regret, yet in ways he is glad you have your emperor, that you two found love. A bittersweet taste left in his mouth as he studies you even more seriously, exhaling.
“You should have me killed for what I did, or could have done,” his eyes can’t help but flicker to your stomach. “No, I don’t want to live with what I may have done to you.”
“Well I do not know yet what has happened,” you touch your stomach, praying that the news will be good. “You don’t get the easy way out, Suguru Geto. You’ll pay back in service to the Emperor, and you’ll gladly do it.”
“You really think he’ll ever want me to?”
“Shitty service, the most dangerous situations – I’ll send you off to the ends of the bloody Earth for a flower if I want,” his lips twitched. “You’ll be in full service to the Emperor, and mean your damn vows this time. If things work out, and those girls can leave, I would be appreciative enough not to kill you.”
“He only wants you.”
You blush now. “I know.”
“As he should,” you step back, and he steps forward. “I am so, so fucking sorry I put you in danger.”
“I’m more mad you wanted to hurt my husband,” you admit. “Not me.”
“But I-”
“I cannot live in a world where he doesn't exist,” he pauses, and says nothing else, as Kiyotaka comes and unlocks the heavy iron gates, and you look back at him. “If you succeeded, you would have truly killed me.”
His hands grip the bars, head leaning against the cool metal.
He watches you walk off, going back over to his table, grabbing the pen and dipping it in the ink.
He thinks he knows the words to say, now.
*****
"Your Majesty," Jin Shi begins, his lavender hair damn near glittering as he sits in front of Emperor Gojo’s desk.
“Why is your hair so damn pretty!?”
He laughs now, shrugging a shoulder, his voice much like the Emperor’s – Satoru saw everyone fucking swooning over him. “I suppose it’s the shampoo bars I use.”
“I’ll have them imported,” Satoru grumbles, sighing then. “Forgive me, I know we are here for serious matters.”
“Indeed we are,” he smiles then. “Mao Mao tells me your Empress is still very much with child.”
“She…”
“You did not…” He trails off, frowning then, but Satoru puts his head in his hands for a moment, sighing. “I thought you knew.”
“I haven’t gotten to see my wife most of the day,” he admits. “With Lola, the council, the barrister… you. I have not had a moment.”
“I see…”
“No, no, that makes me…” Satoru grins, all dopey now. “So fucking happy.”
Jin Shi laughs softly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs, Miwa comes in and damn near has her eyes pop out of their sockets, almost dropping the tea tray. “Hi there.”
“H-hello!?”
“As if you don’t see a gorgeous man daily, tch,” Satoru crosses his arms, watching Jin Shi smile at her, and he swears the girl almost falls.
What sort of effect was he having on Satoru’s subjects!?
Wasn’t he a eunuch?
“S-sorry, your excellence! I… do you require anything…”
“This is great, thank you,” she giggles and prances away, Jin Shi and Satoru sip the tea, sighing at the same time. "With the empress carrying your heir, the threat has never been more real.”
“It’s very true,” Satoru says quietly, the thoughts that life still flutters in your tummy making him ache to hold you.
Kiss you.
All over.
Fuck, imagining you in the baths later has him…
Focus.
“The council is reeling, news has even spread,” Jin Shi continues. “Lola's actions have proven that the concubines, in your case, are a threat to the empire, considering what she could have done. No matter how high ranking, she does not compete with the standing of the Empress.”
“So you think I’ll have a chance to get rid of all of them?” Satoru asks hopefully, Jin Shi nods.
“I do. The people will support it after this attempt on their Empress' life, and the council will have no choice but to agree. They will see it as necessary for stability and the safety of the royal line, though I can’t say the practice altogether would cease in your future heirs."
“I want daughters,” Satoru admits, grinning again and swirling the tea in the pretty cup around. “I want many, many little mini Empress’ running about.”
“You are so in love I’m sickened,” comes MaoMao, leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed, with you behind her. “Ew.”
“You lack romance, tch,” Jin Shi tells her, she rolls her green eyes, shaking her head and crossing her arms, walking alongside you as you both enter the office, shutting the door behind you.
Your eyes meet his, and he can feel that mix – the pain, the worry, the happiness, the love.
He feels all of it – all of you.
“Satoru,” you rush to him without thinking of the audience, and he tugs you right on his lap, kissing you deeply, the other two blushing at the sight of such blatant affection.
“My Empress,” he murmurs, inhaling your scent and burying his face against your neck. “I have no patience for formalities, I miss you too badly.”
“I miss you so badly,” you whisper back, hugging him tightly, letting him put a hand on your tummy. “I am still…”
“I heard,” his grin is huge and bright, melting you. “I am so fucking excited.”
“I am too!” Jin Shi and Mao Mao stand now, and your eyes catch theirs, seeing their smiles on their faces.
“I’ll help as much as I can while I’m here,” Jin Shi says with a bow. Mao Mao inclines her head as well.
“As will I.”
“I have no way to thank you enough for saving her,” Satoru’s hand grips your waist tightly, the emotion rushing in his voice.
“I am glad to see such love,” she says, and clearly the advisor agrees, leaving the two of you alone. It’s moments before Satoru’s kissing you, having you sitting right across his lap, fingers mapping your skin, committing it to memory.
“I fucking missed you,” he murmurs. “I hate not seeing you all day.”
“I know, soon things will calm down. I hope,” your hand sits over his, a pretty grin on your face. “A baby.”
“A baby,” he kisses down your neck, and your lashes flutter, shifting in a way that has him throbbing. “Don’t move like that, mngh…”
“C-can’t help it,” you admit, your hand entangling in his silky white locks, tugging ever so gently, he practically purrs, earning your giggle. “We have much to speak of, I believe, before we get to really enjoy ourselves.”
Satoru leans back a bit, his eyes that pretty clear blue, nodding now. “We do have much to speak of, sweetheart. But first? I’d like more kisses.”
His lips descend back on yours, stealing your breath – with much left to worry for – Lola, Suguru, the council, a healthy pregnancy – the most important thing was right here. Being in Satoru’s arms, and enjoying every little kiss, before more serious talks had to occur, before you got to just enjoy your husband in the baths, enjoy him all to yourself soon.
Yet for now, this kiss steals every thought in both your minds.
This Day4 of kinkober and is a collaboration with @wildandsmile. The prompt is sounding. Enjoy!
The fluorescent lights of Jujutsu Tech's infirmary hummed a sterile farewell as Nanami Kento slid his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose. Another cursed spirit dissection, another stack of reports taller than Yuji’s optimism. His tailored suit felt like a cage, the wool blend scratching against skin rubbed raw by residual cursed energy. Home. The word echoed in his weary bones like a promise of silence and scotch. He didn’t bother turning off lights; the empty corridors could keep their own ghosts company. His polished Oxfords clicked a precise rhythm against the linoleum, a metronome counting down to solitude.
His apartment door yielded with a soft sigh, revealing the dim sanctuary beyond. Nanami’s shoulders dropped a fraction, the tension leaching away. Until he saw it: his favourite armchair, the deep leather one angled perfectly toward the city skyline, occupied. Gojo Satoru lounged like a fallen star, legs draped over one armrest, blindfold pushed up into messy white hair, crunching Nanami’s expensive imported rice crackers. "Took you long enough, Kento!" Gojo chirped, spraying crumbs. "These are surprisingly addictive. Bit salty, though. Got any plum wine?"
Nanami’s knuckles tightened around his briefcase handle, the leather creaking under the strain. He didn’t raise his voice—didn’t need to. The glacial stillness settling over him was louder than any shout. He methodically hung his coat, aligned his shoes, and walked to the liquor cabinet, ignoring Gojo’s exaggerated crunching. The clink of crystal as he poured two fingers of single malt was precise, surgical. He took a slow sip, letting the peat smoke burn away the day’s residue before turning. Gojo grinned, dangling a cracker like bait. "Thirsty work, waiting for you. You really should stock better snacks."
Nanami set his glass down with deliberate softness, the crystal barely whispering against the lacquered wood. His gaze swept past Gojo’s sprawled form to the bedroom door, lingering for a heartbeat. "Your commentary," he stated, voice flat as a blade, "is as tiresome as your presence." He moved toward the bedroom, footsteps silent on the tatami. Gojo’s grin widened, a flash of teeth in the dimness. "Aw, leaving so soon? And here I thought we could—" The sentence died as Nanami paused in the doorway, one hand resting lightly on the frame.
Nanami didn’t turn. His fingers curled around the silk tie loosened at his throat, sliding it free with a whisper of fabric. Gojo’s playful smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of wary curiosity as Nanami finally pivoted, the tie coiled like a serpent in his palm. The air thickened, charged with the quiet promise of retribution. "Persistent disruptions," Nanami stated, his voice devoid of inflection, "demand persistent solutions." He took a single step forward, the movement economical, deliberate. Gojo shifted, ready to teleport, but Nanami’s cursed energy flared—a crushing, invisible weight pinning Gojo’s limbs to the leather. "Don’t," Nanami warned, the word colder than the scotch he’d abandoned.
Nanami closed the distance in three precise strides, the coiled silk whispering against his knuckles. Gojo strained against the crushing weight of Nanami's cursed energy, Infinity flickering uselessly—Nanami's technique bypassed it entirely, targeting the space *around* him like a vice. "Kento, this is—" Gojo's protest choked off as Nanami's knee pressed into his sternum, pinning him deeper into the leather. The tie slithered around Gojo's wrists with practiced efficiency, knotting tight against the chair's armrest before Nanami hauled him up by the collar.
Nanami hauled Gojo upright, ignoring the choked gasp. The silk tie cinched tighter around Gojo's wrists as Nanami dragged him toward the bedroom, his steps unhurried, deliberate. Gojo stumbled, bare feet scraping against the tatami. "Seriously, Kento? Over crackers?" His voice held a forced lightness, but his eyes—wide and visible without the blindfold—tracked Nanami’s movements with sharp intensity. Nanami didn’t reply. The bedroom door swung open. He shoved Gojo backward onto the bed, the mattress groaning under the impact.
Nanami’s expression remained impassive as he ripped a strip of fabric from Gojo’s own shirt sleeve—a sharp tear echoing in the sudden silence. He gagged the sorcerer efficiently, silencing further protests. Gojo’s muffled laugh vibrated against the cloth, eyes alight with chaotic amusement even as Nanami secured his ankles to the bedpost with ruthless precision using his belt. The mattress dipped under Nanami’s knee pressing into Gojo’s hip, immobilizing him completely. Only then did Nanami retrieve the slender, polished ribbed steel sound from his bedside drawer—a tool normally reserved for cursed object analysis, gleaming coldly under the dim bedroom light.
Nanami's thumb brushed the cool steel, his gaze fixed on Gojo's bound form. The sorcerer's chest rose and fell rapidly beneath torn fabric, muffled sounds vibrating against the gag—not fear, but furious exhilaration. Nanami uncapped the sterile lubricant with clinical detachment. The sharp scent of antiseptic cut through the room as he coated the instrument's length, the viscous fluid catching the low light. Gojo's eyes widened fractionally, tracking the movement with rapt intensity.
Nanami's free hand slid beneath Gojo's waistband, fingers encountering the hot, straining line of his erection. He wrapped his palm around it with deliberate slowness, feeling the pulse beneath velvet skin. Gojo arched off the mattress with a choked groan, the sound thick and desperate against the gag. Nanami's thumb circled the leaking tip, spreading slickness as he leaned down, his breath ghosting over Gojo's exposed collarbone. "Patience," Nanami murmured, teeth grazing a peaked nipple through thin cotton. Gojo jerked against his bonds, muscles corded tight as wire.
Nanami’s fingers deftly unfastened Gojo’s trousers, peeling the fabric down his hips just enough to expose the flushed, straining length beneath. His palm slid along Gojo’s shaft with deliberate, unhurried strokes, thumb swirling over the slick head where precome beaded. Gojo’s hips bucked helplessly against the restraints, a muffled groan tearing from behind the gag as Nanami’s other hand slipped beneath his thin shirt. Calloused fingertips grazed a peaked nipple, pinching lightly until Gojo’s back arched off the mattress like a drawn bow.
The silk underwear slid lower, inch by torturous inch. Nanami hooked his thumbs into the waistband, dragging the fabric down Gojo’s thighs with agonizing slowness. Cool air ghosted over exposed skin, tightening Gojo’s flesh as every nerve ending screamed. Nanami paused, fingertips tracing the sharp jut of Gojo’s hipbone, the frantic pulse pounding in his femoral artery. Below, Gojo’s cock strained upward, flushed dark and leaking onto his abdomen. Nanami’s exhaled sharply through his nose.
The lubricant glistened thickly on the polished steel sound. Nanami’s gaze remained clinical, detached, even as his knuckles whitened around the instrument. He pressed the cool tip against Gojo’s, tracing the slit. Gojo froze, breath hitching audibly through the gag. A tremor ran through him—not fear, but raw anticipation vibrating beneath Nanami’s restraining tie. Nanami applied steady pressure. The tip breached, impossibly intimate, impossibly cold. Gojo’s entire body arched violently, tendons standing out like cables against his throat. A ragged, muffled cry tore free as Nanami advanced the steel with meticulous slowness, inch by excruciating inch, filling him with invasive chill.
The steel slid deeper, a glacial intrusion that scraped nerves raw. Gojo’s muffled scream dissolved into frantic, shallow breaths, his body shuddering against the restraints. Sweat slicked his temples, matting white hair to his skin. Nanami watched the dilation of his pupils—wide, black pools swallowing the blue—as he rotated the instrument with cruel precision. A choked whimper escaped the gag. Nanami leaned close, his voice a low rasp against Gojo’s ear. "Still find disruptions amusing?"
Gojo’s response was a violent jerk, hips straining upward only to be pinned by Nanami’s weight. The sound shifted inside him, grazing sensitive walls. Tears welled, spilling hot tracks down his temples. Nanami withdrew it fractionally, then pushed deeper still, the ribbed steel catching on inner ridges. Gojo’s back bowed off the mattress, every muscle locked in agony. His bound wrists twisted against silk, skin chafing crimson.
The still rod pressed against Gojo’s prostate—a deliberate, unyielding pressure that transformed agony into electric revelation. His body seized, spine arching so violently the leather restraints creaked, every muscle fiber locking around that cold intrusion. A guttural, vibrating moan tore through the gag, muffled but raw with shattered control. Tears streamed freely now, mingling with sweat on his temples as Nanami held the steel perfectly still, letting sensation cascade through Gojo’s nerves like shattering glass.
Nanami watched, impassive, as Gojo’s eyes rolled back, whites showing beneath fluttering lashes. The choked sounds escaping the cloth gag shifted—less protest, more desperate, involuntary plea. Only then did Nanami rotate the instrument minutely, ribbed edges scraping that swollen gland with surgical precision. Gojo convulsed, a silent scream contorting his face as pleasure-pain detonated behind his ribs, radiating down trembling thighs. His abdomen twitched.
Slowly, deliberately, Nanami withdrew the steel. The slide was excruciating—a drawn-out scrape against oversensitized nerves. Gojo gasped wetly against the gag, body collapsing bonelessly onto the mattress, slick with sweat and tears. His chest heaved. Nanami set the gleaming sound aside without ceremony, his gaze lingering on Gojo’s flushed skin, the raw vulnerability laid bare in the harsh light.
Nanami turned toward the bedside drawer again. This time, his fingers closed around something softer, heavier—a slightly longer silicone rod, obsidian-black and ribbed, with a subtle weight to it. A small remote control nestled beside it. He flicked the switch. A low, resonant hum filled the room, vibrating through the floorboards. Gojo’s eyes snapped open, pupils blown wide, tracking Nanami’s movement with dazed terror. The vibration wasn’t painful—yet. It promised something else entirely.
Nanami pushed the obsidian silicone rod into Gojo’s urethra with relentless precision. The ribbed surface caught on delicate tissue, pushing Gojo to the edge. Gojo’s muffled scream hitched into a wet gurgle as his hips jerked against the restraints, veins standing out like blue ropes across his thighs. Nanami watched the invasion clinically, thumb rotating the shaft to feel the internal resistance give way millimeter by millimeter. The low hum intensified, vibrating up through the steel bedframe into Gojo’s spine.
The silicone rod seated fully, its ribbed length vibrating against Gojo's prostate with relentless precision. His entire body seized—a rigid arch lifting his hips off the mattress—before collapsing into violent tremors. Tears streaked freely down his temples, mingling with sweat as muffled cries dissolved into wet, rhythmic gasps against the gag. Nanami watched the involuntary twitches ripple through Gojo’s abdomen, fingers tightening around the remote.
Gojo arched against the restraints, gag soaked through with spit and desperation. With a violent twist of his jaw, he spat the wad of fabric sideways onto the pillow. "Kento—*please*!" His voice cracked, raw and stripped bare. "Let me... let me cum." He gasped wetly as the vibration intensified. "I swear—no more disruptions. No more crackers. Just... I’ll be good."
Nanami's thumb hovered over the remote's intensity dial. Gojo's hips stuttered against the vibrating intrusion, thighs trembling as sweat pooled in the hollow of his throat. The gag hung loose now, saliva-slick silk clinging to his jawline. "Please," he rasped, voice shredded raw, eyes wide and unfocused.
Nanami rotated the dial incrementally. The hum deepened, vibrating through bone. Gojo's spine snapped backward, heels digging into the mattress as a ragged cry tore loose—pure, unadulterated agony laced with something darker. Tears carved fresh tracks through the sheen of sweat. His bound wrists strained against silk, tendons standing out like bridge cables beneath skin. A faint, wet clicking sound echoed inside him with each pulse.
Nanami watched Gojo's body convulse, the vibrations traveling up the silicone rod in visible tremors. Sweat dripped from his chin onto the stained sheets below. "Focus," Nanami commanded, his voice cutting through Gojo's choked whimpers. "Discipline requires clarity." He rotated the remote dial again—minutely—and the vibration deepened into a bone-rattling hum. Gojo's teeth clamped down on the gag, a fresh wave of tears welling as his hips jerked helplessly against the restraints.
The vibration intensified, resonating deep within Gojo’s pelvis. His thighs trembled violently, toes curling inward as sweat pooled beneath his shoulder blades. Nanami observed the precise moment coherence shattered—Gojo’s eyes rolled back, unfocused and wet, while muffled pleas dissolved into guttural, rhythmic gasps. The silicone rod hummed against his prostate, each pulse dragging a fresh shudder up his spine.
“K-Kento please! I’ll—*ah!*—I’ll be quiet!” Gojo choked plea dissolved into a wet gasp as the silicone rod pulsed deeper vibration against his prostate. His thighs trembled, toes curling inward as sweat dripped onto the sheets beneath him. Nanami’s thumb remained poised on the remote dial, watching the raw desperation bloom across Gojo’s tear-streaked face—the dilated pupils, the frantic flutter of his pulse at his throat.
Nanami nodded—a small, almost serene gesture—and withdrew the silicone rod with one smooth, clinical pull. Gojo’s body arched off the mattress violently, a ragged cry tearing loose as the vibrating intrusion vanished. Release slammed into him like a physical blow; hips bucking wildly against the silk restraints, back bowing impossibly high as ropes of cum splattered hot across his own abdomen and chest in thick, shuddering pulses. His cry dissolved into choked, gasping sobs, whole body convulsing through the aftershocks.
Nanami leaned in, pressing a dry, fleeting kiss to the sweat-damp crown of Gojo’s hair—a gesture startlingly tender against the raw aftermath. His fingers worked methodically, unbuckling the silk restraints with the same precision he’d used to bind them. The fabric slithered free, leaving faint crimson imprints on Gojo’s wrists. Nanami fetched a damp cloth from the ensuite, its coolness stark against Gojo’s overheated skin as he wiped away the streaks of tears, sweat, and release. Each pass was clinical, thorough, yet devoid of cruelty—a silent restoration of dignity. Gojo shuddered, limbs loose and trembling, his breath still ragged as he watched Nanami’s impassive face.
Nanami discarded the damp cloth into a basin, the silence stretching taut between them. Gojo lay utterly spent, limbs heavy as lead, his breathing shallow and uneven. The room smelled sharply of sweat, salt, and antiseptic—a jarring blend that clung to the back of Nanami’s throat.
Without a word, Nanami shifted onto the mattress beside him, the springs groaning softly under his weight. He wrapped an arm around Gojo’s trembling shoulders, pulling him close until their bodies aligned—Gojo’s sweat-slicked back pressed flush against Nanami’s chest. The heat radiating from Gojo’s skin seeped through Nanami’s shirt, a visceral reminder of the ordeal. Nanami’s breath stirred the damp hair at Gojo’s nape as he murmured, low and rough-edged, "Are you alright?" The question hung suspended, stripped of judgment, a stark anomaly in the charged air.
“That was amazing. I’m sorry I bothered you,” Gojo mumbled into Nanami’s shirt, his voice muffled and thick with exhaustion. His trembling had subsided to faint shivers, the aftershocks of pleasure still echoing in the slackness of his limbs. The scent of sweat, salt, and something uniquely *Gojo* clung to the air—musky and vulnerable. Nanami’s arm tightened imperceptibly around him, a silent anchor in the dim light.
Nanami’s thumb brushed a damp strand of hair from Gojo’s forehead. The gesture was unexpectedly tender, almost jarring after the violence of their intimacy. “You don’t apologize for existing,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, the instinctive recoil behind the defiance. The mask snapping back into place. He didn’t push. Instead, his gaze drifted to the window where the city lights bled through the blinds, painting stripes across the rumpled sheets. The silence stretched, comfortable now, filled only with Gojo’s slowing breaths and the distant hum of Tokyo at night. A faint smile touched Nanami’s lips—not triumphant, not cruel, but something quieter. Acknowledgment. Understanding.
Nanami smiled and turned off the light, plunging the room into velvet darkness. Only the city's distant glow seeped through the blinds, painting silver stripes across Gojo's exhausted form. The abrupt absence of harsh fluorescence softened everything—the sharp angles of Gojo's shoulders, the tension still lingering in his jaw. Nanami's arm remained around him, a solid weight anchoring Gojo to the present. "Sleep," Nanami commanded, his voice a low rumble against Gojo's spine. "The world can wait."
Nanami's smile lingered in the sudden darkness, a ghost of warmth against Gojo's spine as the city's glow painted silver stripes across their tangled limbs. The abrupt plunge into shadow softened the harsh lines of exhaustion etched into Gojo's face, transforming his tremors into something fragile, almost sacred in the quiet. Nanami's arm tightened possessively around him, fingers splaying wide over Gojo's pounding heartbeat—a silent claim echoing louder than any word. Outside, Tokyo pulsed like a living thing, sirens wailing faintly somewhere near Shibuya, neon signs bleeding crimson and electric blue through the blinds.
ಇ.content & warnings: ꒰fingering ⋮⋮ oral (reader & satoru rec.) ⋮⋮ p slapping! ⋮⋮ pet names heavy! ⋮⋮ cum in mouth ⋮⋮ cum play ⋮⋮ both at the same time ⋮⋮ p in v ⋮⋮ dp ⋮⋮ tummy bulges ⋮⋮ c-pied꒱
You’re sprawled across Eren’s lap like always, legs dangling off the arm of the couch, head tucked under Satoru’s chin while he scrolls aimlessly on his phone. The three of you have been tangled like this for hours, while some dumb action movie flickers on the TV that none of you are really watching.
It’s the kind of Friday night that’s happened a hundred times before: snacks scattered, blanket fortress half-built, your body slotted perfectly between theirs like you were custom-made to fit the negative space they create when they sit too close.
Eren’s thumb keeps brushing slow, absent circles over the bare skin of your thigh where your oversized hoodie rode up and you're only wearing panties underneath. Satoru’s fingers are threaded loosely through your hair, tugging just enough to feel possessive without ever admitting it. They’re warm. They’re always warm.
And you’re so used to it, the casual touching, the way they both smell faintly of cedar and whatever cologne they stole from each other, that you never question how heavy their breathing gets when you shift and your ass presses back against Eren’s hips.
You yawn, stretch like a cat, and announce it without thinking.
“I’ve got a date tomorrow night.”
The room doesn’t freeze. Not exactly.
But the lazy thumb on your thigh stops dead. Toru’s fingers pause mid-scratch against your scalp. The only sound left is the muffled explosions from the television and the sudden harsh rhythm of Eren’s exhale through his nose.
“A date,” Eren repeats. Flat. Like he’s tasting something bitter.
“Yeah,” you hum, oblivious, scrolling through your phone now. “This guy from chem. He’s cute. Kinda tall. Said he’d take me to that new ramen place downtown.”
Toru’s voice comes quieter than usual. Almost gentle. “Tomorrow.”
“Mhm.” You tilt your head back to look up at him, smiling all sweet and glassy-eyed like you always do when you’re happy. “Why? You guys wanna come third-wheel? I can ask if he’s cool with it.”
Eren laughs, but it’s wrong. Sharp, with no humor in it at all.
He shifts under you suddenly, strong hands clamping around your hips, keeping you pinned right where you are. You squeak in surprise, thighs squeezing together on instinct.
“No,” he says. Low and dangerous. “We don’t wanna third-wheel, princess.”
Toru’s hand slides from your hair down to your throat…not choking, just… holding. Collarbone to jaw. His thumb brushing the soft skin under your chin so you have to look at him.
“You’re not going,” he murmurs.
You blink up at him, lashes fluttering. “Huh?”
“You’re not going on a date,” Eren cuts in, voice rougher now, hips rolling up just enough that you feel exactly how hard he is. Not subtle. Not pretending anymore. The thick outline of him presses insistently against your ass through thin layers of fabric. “Not with him. Not with anyone.”
Your breath catches. You’re still trying to process, still trying to stay in that sweet, fuzzy headspace where they’re just your overprotective best friends so when Toru leans down and kisses the corner of your mouth soft, teasing and barely there, you're a bit stunned to say the least.
But Eren doesn’t tease.
He grabs your chin, turns your face towards him, and kisses you like he’s been starving for it. Deep and messy, his tongue sliding against yours before you can even gasp. One hand fists in your hair while the other slips under the hoodie, rough palm skating up your bare stomach until he’s cupping your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple like he’s done it a thousand times in his head, he grabs it and balls up the fabric in his palm and tugs it off you, throwing it behind the couch without care.
When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard. Your lips are swollen. His eyes are dilated, black eating the emerald green.
“We’ve been good,” he rasps. “So fucking good. Letting you prance around in those tiny shorts, letting you sleep between us, letting you rub that pretty little body all over us every night like it’s nothing. But a date?” He laughs again low and bitter. “Nah, baby. That shit ends tonight.”
Toru’s mouth finds your neck. Open-mouthed, he sucks a bruise right under your jaw while his hand slides between your thighs, not touching your pussy yet, just cupping you over your panties, letting you feel the heat of his palm.
“You’ve been so sweet to us,” Toru whispers against your skin. “Letting us hold you. Letting us get hard and pretend it’s an accident. But we’re done pretending, baby.”
Eren’s fingers pinch your nipple harder and you whimper embarrassingly which makes them both look at each other in unison and smirk.
“We both think about this cunt every single night,” he growls. “Every time you fall asleep between us, we’re rock fucking hard imagining how tight you’d feel. How wet you are, how you’d cry our names when we finally stretch you open.”
Toru hums in agreement, middle finger pressing just enough against your clit through the cotton that your hips jerk.
“You’re ours,” he says simply. Like it’s obvious. Like it’s always been obvious. “Always have been. You just didn’t know we were waiting for permission to take what’s ours.”
Eren leans in again, lips brushing yours.
“Tell us you want it,” he murmurs. “Tell us you want both of us. Or we stop right now… and you can go on your little date tomorrow like a good girl.”
His thumb brushes your bottom lip.
“But if you do…” He smiles slowly, a feral glint in his eyes,"We're not letting you leave this couch until your pussy’s so full of us you can’t even think about another man’s name.”
Your thighs tremble.
Your heart hammers, you aren't entirely sure if the imagery Eren’s just conjured up is what has your body on fire and mind in disarray with boiling want. Do you really want them both at the same time, your best friends…were you always this naive about them or did you just realise that you want them too.. God, yes you fucking do.
And between them now, with their warmth, dicks hard and unyielding tension, you feel something inside you finally give in.
Soft and sweet and a little dumb with want.
“…please,” you whisper.
Eren groans like you just handed him the keys to heaven.
Toru smiles against your throat.
“Good girl.”
You’re still trembling from the way they pinned you down, Eren’s mouth bruising yours, Satoru’s teeth grazing your throat and when Toru shifts, sitting up straighter on the couch. His hoodie is rucked up just enough to show the sharp cut of his hips, the light trail of hair disappearing into gray sweats that are doing nothing to hide how fucking thick he is.
“Baby,” he says, voice all soft velvet now, “need your mouth.”
Your eyes drop automatically. His hand catches yours, guides it down slow until your palm presses flat over the obscene bulge. Even through the fabric you can feel the heat, the heavy throb. He’s so hard it looks painful, long, thick and curving up toward his stomach like it’s begging.
“See, baby? m’hard for you,” he murmurs, thumb brushing over your knuckles while he makes you feel every inch. “Been like this every night you sleep between us. Couldn’t help it. Your little ass grinding back, those tiny whimpers you make in your sleep… fuck.”
You swallow. Your mouth feels too wet, too empty.
He tugs the waistband of his sweats down just enough. No underwear.. you think thats gross but also fucking hot ugh. Just him and his fat, flushed cock, the tip already slick and shiny with precum that beads at the slit and drips slow down the underside. It twitches when the cool air hits it. So pretty. So stupidly big. The kind of cock that makes your thighs clench on instinct.
You’re sweet about it. Always sweet. You lean forward without being told twice, pressing the softest, open-mouthed kiss right to the fat head. Your lips brush the sticky tip and he hisses through his teeth, hips jerking like he can’t help it.
“Good girl,” Toru breathes. One hand cups the back of your head, not pushing, just holding. “Just like that. Kiss it again. Taste me, pretty please.”
You do. Another slow, filthy kiss. Then another. Letting your tongue flick out to lap at the precum, salty and warm. He groans low in his throat.
“Open up, baby. Gonna teach you exactly how I like it.”
You part your lips. He guides himself in slowly, inch by thick inch, until the head sits heavy on your tongue. Your eyes water instantly at the stretch, but you don’t pull back. You just look up at him with those big, glassy eyes while he starts telling you what he wants.
“Suck the tip first.. yeah aaaah- just like that. Swirl your pretty tongue around it. Fuck… goodness baby. Now take a little more. Relax your throat for me, sweet thing. Breathe through your nose.”
You try. You really try. He’s so big it makes your jaw ache already, but the way he’s looking at you like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen makes you want to take all of him. You hollow your cheeks, suck soft, letting your tongue drag along the thick vein underneath.
Behind you, Eren’s been patient. Too patient.
His hands find the backs of your thighs, prying them apart until you’re spread wide across his lap. Cool air hits your soaked panties and you whimper around Toru’s cock.
“Come on, baby girl,” Eren growls against the shell of your ear. “Won’t you let me see this pretty pussy? Been dying to look at it properly.”
His fingers hook into the crotch of your panties, tugging them to the side. You’re dripping. Embarrassingly so, strings of slick connecting your folds to the fabric when he pulls it away and he groans like he’s in pain.
“Fuck. Look at her, Toru. She’s fucking soaked.”
Toru’s hips stutter forward, pushing a little deeper into your mouth at the sight. You gag softly but keep going, drool's already slipping down your chin.
Eren’s fingers slide through your folds slowly with deliberate care, coating themselves in your wetness before he finds your clit. Cute little swollen thing, peeking out and begging. He rubs it in tight, mean circles with his thumb while two fingers tease your entrance, not pushing in yet. Just circling. Spreading you open.
“So wet for us,” he mutters. “This little cunt’s been waiting, huh? Knew you needed both of us stretching you out.”
You moan around Toru’s cock, the vibrations making him curse under his breath. Your hips buck forward into Eren’s hand without thinking, chasing the pressure on your clit.
Toru’s grip tightens in your hair. “That’s it, baby. Keep sucking. Gonna fuck your mouth slow while Eren plays with this perfect pussy. You’re doing so good for us.”
Eren slips one finger inside you, then another immediately, curling them just right while his thumb keeps working your clit in relentless little strokes. You’re shaking now, thighs trembling, drool dripping down Toru’s cock as you try to take him deeper.
Eren hooks his fingers into the thin waistband of your panties now, tugging them down with slow, patient care, down the swell of you ass and the crotch is soaked, from his spit and your sticky slick. Once he gets it off he presses an open mouthed kiss to your pretty cunt, his mouth fully englufing you with no barrier stopping him anymore.
They’ve got you right where they want you, split open between them, mouth full, cunt dripping, completely theirs.
And they’re only just getting started.
Toru’s grip in your hair turns firmer but not cruel, just enough to remind you who’s in control. He rocks his hips up slow, feeding you another thick inch until the head bumps the back of your throat and your eyes water instantly. You gag around him, soft and wet, helpless little sound that makes his abs flex and his breath hitch.
“Fuck, baby… that’s it,” he groans, voice wrecked. “Gag on it. Let me feel that tight little throat squeeze me. You’re so sweet when you try to take it all.”
Tears prick your lashes. Drool spills from the corners of your mouth, slicking down his shaft, dripping onto your chin and the couch beneath. You’re messy for him, always so eager to please and he loves it. Loves the way your tongue still tries to swirl even when you’re struggling, the way your cheeks hollow every time he pulls back just to push in again.
Behind you, Eren’s done playing nice.
He’s got your thighs shoved wide, knees hooked over his shoulders now so your ass is lifted just enough for him to bury his face where he’s been dying to be. Rough hands spread your cunt open, his fingers digging into soft, slick flesh, holding you apart like he’s displaying you. You’re so wet it’s obscene: glistening folds, clit swollen and throbbing, strings of arousal clinging to his fingers when he pulls them away.
“Look at this sloppy little pussy,” he mutters against your inner thigh, hot breath fanning over your core. “Dripping all over my hand just from sucking him off. You love being used like this, don’t you?”
Before you can even whimper around Toru’s cock, Eren slaps your pussy, a sharp, wet smack that makes your whole body jolt. The sting blooms fast into heat, clit pulsing harder. You cry out muffled around the thick length filling your mouth.
Eren does it again. Harder. The sound is filthy, each wet smacks echoing in the quiet room. Your hips buck uselessly, cunt clenching around nothing.
“Sensitive already?” he taunts, voice low and mean. Then he spits, right on your clit, a thick glob of saliva landing perfectly, sliding down your folds. He watches it drip with dark eyes before leaning in and dragging his tongue flat from your entrance to your clit in one long, slow stripe.
You sob around Toru. The vibration makes him curse and thrust deeper, holding you there until your nose brushes his pelvis and you’re choking sweetly, and tears streaming.
Eren eats you like he’s starving. Tongue flicking fast over your clit, then sucking it between his lips with hard pulls that make your thighs shake. He alternates: sloppy open-mouthed kisses to your folds, tongue dipping inside to fuck you shallow, then back to circling that needy little bud. Every time you get close, your hips grinding and muffled moans turning desperate, he pulls back. Just enough.
Edging and Torturing you… keeping you right on the brink.
“Uh-uh,” he growls when your cunt flutters, so close you can taste it. Another slap, lighter this time, but it still makes you yelp around Toru’s cock. “Not yet, baby girl. You don’t come until we say.”
Toru’s breathing is ragged now, hips stuttering as he fucks your throat in shallow thrusts. “She’s gonna make me come if she keeps moaning like that,” he warns Eren, but there’s no real complaint in it, just raw need. “Fuck… her mouth’s so warm. So fucking wet.”
Eren hums against your clit, the vibration ripping another choked sound from you. He spits again messily then sucks your clit back into his mouth while two fingers slide inside, curling against that spot that makes your eyes roll back.
You’re shaking. Drooling. Gagging sweetly every time Toru bottoms out. Cunt clenching around Eren’s fingers while he edges you mercilessly with every lick, suck, slap, spit, repeat.
They’ve got you trapped between them, mouth stuffed full, pussy spread and devoured, body trembling on the edge of something massive.
Toru’s thumb brushes a tear from your cheek, almost tenderly and he slips his cock out of from your mouth and taps the tip of his cock to your lips as you catch your breath, smearing bubbly saliva and pre over your lips messily.
“Such a good girl,” he whispers. “Taking us both so pretty.”
Eren pulls back just long enough to murmur against your dripping folds:
“Gonna let you come soon, baby… but only when you’re choking on his load and begging for mine.”
Your whole body clenches at the promise.
They’re not stopping.
Not until you’re ruined for anyone else.
Eren pulls back from your dripping cunt with a wet, obscene sound, his lips shiny, chin slick with you. He’s breathing hard, eyes dark and blown out like he’s high off the taste. Without a word he shifts, lying flat on his back along the couch, one arm hooked behind his head while the other reaches for your hip.
“Come on, baby,” he rasps, voice rough from all the growling and licking. “Sit on my face. Need this pretty pussy grinding on my tongue right fucking now.”
You’re still dazed, mouth swollen from Toru, thighs shaking from the edging, but the command cuts through the fog. You crawl forward on shaky knees, straddling his head. He doesn’t wait for you to settle. Big hands clamp around your hips and yank you down hard until your soaked cunt is pressed flush to his mouth.
The first swipe of his tongue is filthy, long and flat dragging from your entrance all the way up to your clit. He groans into you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted, vibrations ripping a broken moan from your throat. Then he’s eating you messy: lips sucking at your folds, tongue fucking inside shallow and greedy, nose bumping your clit with every tilt of his head. He’s loud about it slurping, sucking and growling against your core like he’s trying to drink you dry.
Your hands scramble for purchase, fingers digging into the back of the couch as your hips rock instinctively, grinding down on his face. He loves it. Encourages it with bruising grips, guiding you to ride his tongue harder and faster.
Toru’s been watching the whole time, stroking himself slow and lazy while you gagged on him earlier. Now he stands up beside the couch, his sweats shoved down to his thighs, cock flushed dark and glistening from your spit. He steps closer, one hand fisting the base while the other cups your jaw, tilting your face toward him.
“Open up again, baby,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “Gonna fuck this pretty mouth while he eats you out.”
You part your lips on instinct, still so sweet, so pliant and he slides back in. Not gentle this time. He pushes deep right away, hitting the back of your throat until your eyes water fresh and you gag around him, sloppy and wet. Drool spills immediately, running down your chin, dripping onto Eren’s chest below you.
Toru starts thrusting in, slow at first, letting you adjust, then deeper, harder. One hand tangles in your hair to hold you steady while the other braces on the back of the couch. “That’s it… throat me like a good girl. Fuck, look at you nmgh taking it so sloppy, making such aaah mess.”
Every time he bottoms out you choke. Sweet, wet gurgles that make Eren groan louder into your cunt. The sound vibrates straight through your clit and you buck harder against his face, smearing yourself all over his mouth, his nose, his chin. He doesn’t care. He just spreads you wider with his thumbs, tongue flicking fast over your clit before sucking it between his lips again, relentlessly.
His own hand slips down, his fingers wrapping around his neglected cock, stroking himself in rough, tight pulls while he devours you. The wet schlick of his fist mixes with the filthy sounds of his mouth on your pussy and Toru’s dick sliding in and out of your throat.
You’re caught perfectly between them: hips grinding desperate on Eren’s tongue, throat stuffed full of Toru’s thick length, drool and slick everywhere. Your moans are muffled and broken, vibrating around him every time Eren licks that perfect spot inside you with his tongue.
Toru’s hips stutter, breath hitching. “Fuck… gonna cum soon if you keep choking on me like that, baby.”
Eren pulls back just enough to growl against your folds, words muffled but clear. “Not yet. She comes first. Then we both fill her up.”
He dives back in, sucking your clit hard, tongue flicking merciless while his fingers dig into your ass, spreading you even wider so he can bury his face deeper.
You’re trembling, thighs quaking, so close it hurts.
Toru fucks your mouth faster. Shallow, sloppy thrusts that make spit drip down onto Eren’s abs.
Eren strokes himself harder, hips bucking up into his fist like he can’t help it.
They’ve got you right there teetering, dripping, stuffed full and theirs.
Just a little more.
And you’re going to shatter.
It hits you like a wave you can’t outrun.
Eren’s tongue is relentlessly sucking your clit in hard, pulsing pulls while his fingers dig into your hips, holding you down so you can’t escape even if you wanted to. Your thighs lock around his head, whole body seizing as the pressure snaps. You cum hard shaking. Cries muffled around Toru’s cock, hips grinding down messy and desperate onto Eren’s face. Slick floods his mouth; he drinks it up greedily, groaning deep vibrations straight into your core that drag the orgasm out longer, sharper, until you’re sobbing with it.
Your cunt pulses around nothing, clenching on air, dripping down his chin, his neck. He doesn’t stop licking, not even when you’re twitching and oversensitive. Just softer laps now, soothing the raw edges while you shudder through the aftershocks.
Toru’s been fucking your throat steady, but the way you choke and moan around him when you come tips him over. He pulls back suddenly. Only the fat, swollen tip still resting on your tongue and strokes himself faster and rough.
“Fuck ngh open wide, baby,” he pants. “Gonna, fuck- give it to you.”
You do. Tongue out, lips parted, eyes glassy and teary from everything staring up at him. He groans low, hips jerking, and comes thick, rope after hot, heavy rope painting your tongue white. It’s so much it spills a little at the corners of your mouth before you can catch it all. Warm and salty, thick enough that it clings n pools heavy in the center of your tongue.
He milks the last drops out with slow strokes, smearing the tip across your lips like he’s marking you.
“Don’t swallow it yet, pretty girl,” he murmurs, voice wrecked and soft all at once. “Need to see it first.”
You stay like that, kneeling between them, thighs still trembling from Eren’s mouth, mouth full of Toru’s load. Eren finally eases you up just enough to sit back against the couch arm, pulling you half into his lap so you’re still facing Toru. His hands slide up your sides, possessively, while he watches with dark emerald, hungry eyes.
Toru steps closer. Cups your jaw gently but firm, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth where a little escaped.
“Show me,” he says.
You part your lips slowly, careful not to let any spill. Your tongue coated, its thick, pearlescent-white, his cum sitting heavy and pooling in the middle, strings of it connecting to the roof of your mouth when you part wider. It’s obscene. Beautifully yours.
Toru exhales shaky. “Fuck… look at that. All for us.”
He reaches in, two long fingers sliding past your lips, pressing into the warm pool of his own release. He stirs it lazy, coating his fingertips, feeling how thick and sticky it is while you whimper softly around the intrusion. Your eyes flutter, lashes wet.
Then he pulls his fingers out, glistening, dripping, and brings them straight to his own mouth. Sucks them clean and slow, tongue swirling around the digits, tasting himself mixed with the faint sweetness of your spit. His eyes never leave yours, cerulean eyes a hint darker and possessive, like he’s claiming every part of this.
“Sweet,” he murmurs against his fingers. “But not as sweet as you’re gonna taste when we both fill that pretty cunt next.”
Eren’s hand slips between your thighs again, fingers brushing your still-throbbing clit, making you jolt.
“Our turn to mark you inside,” Eren growls low against your ear, nipping the lobe. “Gonna stuff you so full you’ll be leaking us for days.”
You’re still holding Toru’s cum on your tongue, thick, warm and waiting.
Toru leans down, kisses the corner of your mouth softly.
“Now swallow, baby,” he whispers. “Take all of me… then we’ll give you both.”
Your throat works. You swallow slow, feeling it slide down, warm and heavy while they watch like it’s the hottest thing they’ve ever seen.
And when your lips part again, empty now, Eren’s already shifting you, lining himself up.
They’re nowhere near done.
Not even close.
Eren’s hands are already on your hips the second you finish swallowing, rough palms sliding up your sides, guiding you with that same possessive grip he’s always had but never let loose like this. He pulls you forward until you’re straddling his lap, knees sinking into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs. Your arms loop around his shoulders automatically, fingers digging into the back of his neck, forehead dropping to rest against his as you try to catch your breath.
He’s hard again, thick and flushed, leaking at the tip from stroking himself while he ate you out. The head nudges against your soaked entrance, slicking itself in your arousal without even trying. You whimper at the contact, hips twitching forward on instinct.
“Easy, baby girl,” Eren murmurs, voice low and wrecked. One hand stays clamped on your hip while the other reaches between you, guiding himself right to your opening. “Gonna take me slow and let me feel every inch of this tight little cunt finally wrap around me?”
You nod dumbly and eager, still hazy from coming so hard, and you start to sink down.
The stretch is immediate. Intense. He’s thick enough that your walls flutter and grip around the head the second it pops inside, and you gasp sharply against his mouth. Eren groans like he’s been punched in the gut, head falling back against the couch for a second before he snaps it forward again to watch your face.
“Fuck… look at you,” he breathes. “Taking me so pretty already.”
You keep sinking down slow and carefully, until he’s buried halfway in. Your thighs tremble from the burn of it and that’s when Toru moves.
He’s been right behind you the whole time, silent and patient, stroking himself lazy while he watched. Now he presses in close, chest flush to your back, one arm banding around your waist to hold you steady while his other hand slides down between your spread thighs.
As you take another inch of Eren, Toru shoves two fingers into your dripping cunt right alongside Eren’s cock.
The stretch doubles instantly. Your walls clamp down hard, fluttering wildly around the sudden fullness. You cry out high and broken, head tipping back against Toru’s shoulder.
“Fuck, baby,” Toru whispers hot against your ear, fingers curling deep, pressing against that spot that makes your toes curl. “So tight. So fucking full already and we’re just getting started.”
Eren’s hips jerk up on instinct, pushing deeper while Toru’s fingers thrust in shallow, matching the rhythm. The drag is obscene, Eren’s thick length stretching you open, Toru’s fingers rubbing against him through your walls, slick sounds filling the room every time they move.
“You’ll let me stretch this pretty pussy out too, hm?” Toru murmurs, voice all soft velvet as makes it sounds more like a promise than a threat. He scissors his fingers in slower, spreading you wider around Eren’s cock, making room. “Gonna open you up nice and slow so you can take both of us. Gonna feel so good when I slide in right next to him… gonna ruin this little cunt for anyone else.”
You’re shaking between them, overwhelmed and suffed, dripping down Eren’s shaft and Toru’s wrist. Eren’s mouth finds your throat, sucking a fresh bruise while he bottoms out fully, hips flush to yours. The pressure is insane, Eren’s cock throbbing deep inside, Toru’s fingers still working you open, curling and thrusting until you’re clenching so hard it hurts in the best way.
“Goddamn,” Eren growls against your skin. “She’s gripping me like a fucking vice. Keep going, Toru ngh stretch her more. Wanna haah feel you in there with me.”
Toru adds a third finger in slow and carefully and you sob, nails digging into Eren’s shoulders. The burn blooms into heat, into pleasure so sharp it whites out your vision for a second.
“That’s it,” Toru praises, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Such a good girl. Taking us both already. Gonna fuck you together soon… gonna fill you up until you’re leaking us for days.”
Eren starts rocking up into you with shallow thrusts that make his cock drag against Toru’s fingers with every stroke. You’re so full you can barely think, just feel. Just take.
They’ve got you pinned perfectly, in the front and back, cock and fingers, mouths and hands everywhere.
And they’re only warming you up.
Toru’s fingers are still buried deep, three thick digits stretching you wide around Eren’s cock. When he finally starts to pull them out, slow. Every inch drags against your fluttering walls, against the heavy length already filling you, making you whimper and clench harder around Eren.
You’re shaking in Eren’s lap, arms locked around his shoulders, forehead pressed to his as you try to breathe through the overwhelming fullness. Eren’s hands grip your hips like anchors, keeping you seated deep on him while he watches Toru over your shoulder with those emerald, impatient eyes.
Toru’s voice is low against the back of your neck, lips brushing skin. “Gonna replace these fingers now, baby. Gonna slide right in next to him… gonna make this pretty pussy take us both.”
He shifts closer, chest flush to your back again, one hand steadying your waist while the other guides his cock down. The fat, slick head nudges right against your already-stretched entrance, pressing insistently beside Eren’s shaft. You feel the pressure immediately, hot, blunt, and impossible… fuck- it feels impossible and your breath hitches into a soft, panicked whine.
“Shh,” Toru soothes, kissing the curve of your shoulder. “Relax for me. You’ve been so good… you can take it. Just breathe.”
Eren groans low when he feels Toru start to push, feels the thick head crowding in, stretching you further. “Fuck… yeah, push in slow. Let her feel every inch.”
You’re so wet it helps, slick dripping down Eren’s balls, coating Toru’s tip but the stretch is blinding. Toru rocks forward gently at first, just the head breaching you alongside Eren. Your walls burn, fluttering wildly, trying to accommodate the impossible double thickness. A broken sob tears from your throat; your nails dig crescent moons into Eren’s shoulders.
“Too much?” Eren murmurs against your lips, kissing you soft and messy to distract you. “You’re doing so good, baby girl. Look at you, taking two cocks like you were made for it.”
You whine, embarrassed by the fact of his words. Eren soothes you gently, petting your back with slow strokes, shushing you in his arms.
Toru takes that as a sign to sink in deeper, inch by slow, torturous inch, until he’s buried to the hilt right next to Eren. The fullness is obscene: two thick lengths pressed flush together inside you, walls stretched thin and tremble around them. You can feel every vein, every throb, the way they twitch against each other through the thin barrier of your body.
“Goddamn,” Toru breathes, voice wrecked. His forehead drops to your shoulder, hips flush to your ass. “So fucking tight… can feel him right next to me. Feel how full you are, baby?”
You can’t speak… the words are stuck, you just nod frantically, tears slipping down your cheeks from the intensity. Eren starts moving first. Shallow, careful rolls of his hips that make both cocks drag inside you at once. The friction is electric; every slide rubs them together, rubs against that deep spot that makes your vision blur.
Toru matches him after a moment, pulling back slow while Eren pushes in, then switching. They find a rhythm quick: one in, one out, seesawing deep inside you so there’s never a second you’re empty. The drag is relentless, stretching, filling. Utterly overwhelming.
You’re crying now, soft and overwhelmed sobs into Eren’s neck while your hips start rocking back on instinct, chasing more even though you’re already so full it hurts in the sweetest way.
“That’s it,” Eren growls, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb flicking your nipple. “Ride us, baby. Fuck yourself on both our cocks. Show us how much you love being stuffed like this.”
Toru’s hand slips around to your clit, fingers finding the swollen bud and rubbing tight, fast circles while they keep thrusting. The added stimulation sends sparks up your spine; you clench hard around them both, making them groan in unison.
“Gonna come again?” Toru whispers hot against your ear. “Gonna soak us both? Milk us until we fill this little cunt up?”
Eren’s thrusts get harder, deeper. Hips snapping up to meet yours. “Come on our cocks, pretty girl. Let us feel it. Then we’re gonna pump you so full you’ll be dripping for us so beautifully.”
You’re trembling, teetering, so close again, your body stretched to its limit, clit throbbing under Toru’s fingers, two thick cocks ruining you from the inside out.
They’ve got you pinned, claimed and completely theirs.
And when you shatter this time it’s going to be devastating.
They’re moving in perfect, brutal sync now, Eren thrusting up deep while Toru drives in from behind, cocks sliding against each other inside your stretched, fluttering walls. Every push rubs them together through the thin membrane, friction so intense it makes your eyes roll back. You’re creaming around them. Thick, milky slick coating both shafts, dripping down Eren’s balls and Toru’s thighs with every wet slap of skin on skin.
Your tight walls grip them like a vice, milking desperately as they fuck straight into your cervix, blunt heads battering that deep, sensitive spot over and over. The pressure builds fast, sharp and overwhelming; your tummy bulges visibly with each thrust, the outline of their cocks pressing outward against your lower belly.
Eren notices first. His hand slides down from your hip, palm flattening over the soft swell. He pushes on it firmly, gently and deliberately, right where the bulge is most pronounced.
“Fuck, look at that,” he growls, voice wrecked. “Can feel myself right here… feel how deep we are inside you, baby girl? Stretching her little pussy so wide she’s bulging for us.”
You whimper broken and high, hips jerking between them. The pressure of his palm combined with the relentless pounding sends sparks shooting up your spine. Toru’s hand joins, fingers splaying beside Eren’s, both of them pressing down in tandem as they thrust harder, deeper.
“Gonna make you come like this,” Toru murmurs hot against your ear, teeth grazing the lobe. “Gonna feel you cream all over both our cocks while we kiss your cervix, hm baby want us deep in there?.”
You bite your lip, and it hits you suddenly and violent.
Your whole body locks up, back arching, thighs quaking, a raw sob tearing from your throat as you come harder than before. Walls spasm wildly around them, clenching so tight it drags broken groans from both their throats. Slick gushes out in messy pulses, soaking their cocks, dripping down in thick rivulets. Your vision whites out for a second; you’re shaking, crying, completely lost in the overwhelming fullness and the way Eren’s palm keeps pushing on that bulge, making every pulse of your orgasm feel deeper, sharper.
They don’t stop, can’t stop. They bury themselves to the hilt in one final, synchronized thrust, Eren’s hips snapping up, Toru slamming forward until there’s no space left inside you. You feel them throb, swell, and then they’re coming hard.
Hot, thick spurts flood you at the same time, Eren's cock pulsing deep against your cervix while Toru unloads right beside him, ropes of cum mixing, filling every inch until you’re overflowing. The pressure is insane; your walls flutter helplessly around the double load, trying to take it all but failing beautifully.
Toru pulls back just enough, barely an inch while staying buried deep. His free hand slides down between your thighs, thumb hooking one swollen lip and spreading you open wide. The sight is filthy: your pussy stretched obscenely around both cocks, creamy white cum already leaking out in a fat, slow spurt. It slips from between their shafts thick and pearly dripping down Toru’s length in a heavy trail, coating his balls, pooling on Eren’s thighs beneath you.
“Fuck… look at her leaking us,” Toru breathes, thumb rubbing slow circles through the mess, spreading it over your clit. “So full she can’t even keep it all inside.”
Eren groans low, hips twitching with aftershocks as another small spurt escapes him. His palm stays pressed to your tummy, feeling the faint throb of their cocks still buried deep.
“You’re ours now,” he rasps, kissing your sweaty temple. “This pussy’s marked. Stuffed. Leaking both of us.”
You’re trembling between them overstimulated, full to bursting, cum dripping slow and steady down your thighs. They don’t pull out. Not yet.
They just hold you there, cocks softening slightly but still thick inside, keeping every drop plugged deep while their hands roam lazy over your body.
Claimed.
Ruined.
Theirs.
The room feels heavier now, thick with the smell of sex, sweat, and the faint salt of cum. You’re still straddling Eren’s lap, thighs quivering, body limp and boneless between them. Their cocks are softening inside you, but neither has pulled out yet, just resting there, keeping you plugged full, every tiny shift making a fresh trickle of their mixed release slip out.
Toru moves first.
He eases back slow and carefull, so so gentle, until his cock finally slips free with a wet, obscene sound. A thick gush of cum follows immediately, spilling from your stretched hole, running hot down your inner thighs and dripping onto Eren’s lap. You whimper at the sudden emptiness, walls fluttering around Eren’s length like they’re trying to pull him deeper to compensate.
Toru doesn’t go far.
He leans in close behind you again, chest pressed to your back, arms wrapping around your waist in a loose, possessive hold. His lips find the side of your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses. Trailing up the curve where he’d bitten earlier. Gentle now. Soothing. Each press of his mouth feels like an apology and a promise at once.
“You did so good, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, voice low and wrecked. “Took us both so perfect. Look at you… all messy and full of us.” Another kiss, slower, right under your ear. His tongue flicks out to taste the salt there. “Gonna take care of you now. Promise.”
His hands slide up your sides, warm palms smoothing over ribs, petting you like you’re something fragile and precious. One hand cups the back of your neck, thumb brushing the base of your skull while he keeps kissing your throat, your jaw, the soft spot behind your ear.
Eren’s still buried inside you, half-hard, twitching lazily every time your walls flutter. He shifts just enough to sit up straighter, pulling you flush against his chest so your breasts press to him. His mouth finds yours immediately, a slow, deep kiss that tastes like your own slick and his tongue. Lazy. Unhurried. Like he’s savoring every second now that the frantic edge is gone.
One hand slides up to cup your breast, thumb circling the nipple soft and unhurried, teasing it back to a stiff peak. He pinches gently, rolls it between his fingers, then soothes with the flat of his palm. The other hand stays low, splayed over your lower belly where the bulge has softened but you can still feel the faint throb of him inside.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful like this,” he mutters against your lips, kissing you again, messy and open-mouthed, tongue sliding slow against yours. “All flushed and leaking us. Our pretty girl.”
He keeps playing with your tits, kneading one while he kisses you deeper, then switching to the other, thumb flicking the nipple until you arch into his touch with a soft whine. Every tug sends little aftershocks through your oversensitive body; your cunt clenches weakly around him, milking another small bead of cum that drips out around his base.
Toru’s mouth never leaves your neck, kissing and sucking soft bruises into fresh skin, whispering praise between each press of his lips.
“So sweet… so fucking perfect… ours, baby. All ours.”
Eren breaks the kiss just long enough to murmur against your mouth, “Gonna stay like this a while. Keep you full. Keep you warm.”
His fingers keep teasing your nipple with gentle pinches and slow circles, while Toru’s hands roam your sides, your back, your hips. They’re everywhere and nowhere all at once, soft touches and warm mouths, their low voices rumbling praise into your skin.
You’re boneless between them, head lolling back against Toru’s shoulder, lips parted on shaky breaths, body humming with the quiet afterglow.
They don’t rush.
They just hold you.
Kiss you.
Pet you.
Like they’ve got all night.
Like they’ve finally got what they’ve wanted for so long.
Synopsis. Venom’s had enough of his host’s racing heartbeat and tíghtening pants around you. So he does what any good symbiote would do - help Choso lose his vírginíty, of course!
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, Venom!Choso, best-friends-to-Iovers, PlNING, héats, he has tattoos and piercings, Venom in bold, first times (for Choso), PÚSSYDRÚNK CHOSO, oraI (fem. rec), spítting, ínappropríate use of the symbiote, LONG tongues, ríding, dúmbifícation, making it fit, size kínk, tummy buIges, creampíes, cúmplay, MARATHONS, matíng presses, overstím, squírting, cúmming dry, proposals, biting marks, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 8.5k
A/N. Inspired by this ask and this post by the lovely @/screampied.
“You like her.”
“Shut up.”
“You want to fu-”
“Shut up.”
“Heh- loser.”
And Choso was genuinely contemplating smashing his head against the nearest wall, if only it would yank out that damn parasite- “Oi, I can hear you.” -he had the misfortune of picking up.
Weeks - though, it felt like years - weeks since he’d wandered into his usual hiding spot at the abandoned Lady of Saint’s Church for a moment of peace and quiet; except, he wasn’t alone that day. Too busy poring over yet another sketch of your dazzling smile to notice-
“Your pulse rate spiked- you’re thinking of her, boy. You want her.”
But it’d been weeks since he’d had peace and quiet after this…alien symbiote had forcibly attached itself to his body that day.
And the worst part was that he wasn’t even wrong.
“S-so what?” Choso hisses out. “She deserves better than me anyway.” Wincing at the sheer predatory amusement in Venom’s voice as he purrs—
“I have a plan…”
.
.
.
Your best friend was acting strange.
Given, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for his fawn eyes to linger on you just a little more than what’s considered appropriate for a “friend”, or for him to burn with the prettiest blush whenever you caught him.
But these days it was almost like he was avoiding you on purpose.
Taking the longer routes after lectures, being struck pale as a ghost mid-conversation, always muttering away underneath his breath.
Hell, one day you even had half the mind to jokingly ask him whether he was talking to someone you couldn’t see - to which Choso had sputtered and all but sprinted away from you.
And here he was right now - towering right at your apartment doorway in just a snug undershirt and the sexiest grey sweatpants.
“Ch-Choso?” Your jaw drops slightly at his disheveled, heaving state.
Milky skin simmered with a sheen of sweat that made his dark tank top glue to his broad chest, chestnut strands of his bangs falling out of his bun to hide his eyes from you, almost…feverish.
Frantic gaze bouncing off the beefy arm he’d kept leaned over your doorframe for support, “What happened- are you sick? Are you drunk?” A quick glance at the clock showed that it was well past 12AM, “Are you okay, Cho-”
And then he flinches.
Fuck- he flinches as if the sound of that very nickname falling from your cute lips made his entire body shudder with a thousand bolts of lightning.
Baritone voice hot and murky once he utters, “Baby…”
Oh.
You could feel the goosebumps starting to slither down your spine already, and you tug nervously at the paper-thin pyjama shirt you had on. Too-aware of the fact that it was the only thing you were wearing other than your thin panties- damn.
Noticing the way that every minute movement of yours seemed to make Choso’s pants grow heavier; you dare to take a step closer, and it only makes him grip onto the mahogany doorway until it splinters.
Teeth grit. Nostrils flaring. Barely holding himself together.
Gasping, “Cho?”
“I need you.”
“Wha-” And it’s the last thing escaping your mouth before Choso surges forward like he’s being jerked, movements twitchy - desperate - he falls a few steps forward until he’s in your heated proximity.
Your saccharine scent so sweet that he’d be on his damn knees if you hadn’t clawed a hand on one of his flexing biceps- a gruff whimper departing from Choso’s plush, pink lips. “K-kiss me.”
Oh, fuck.
You watch with a carnal sort of desire at the way that he scorches with a breezing blush all the way from the tips of his ears, down to his collarbones. Fisting your dominant hand in the flimsy cotton of your best friend’s undershirt, just the tiniest, weakest tug makes him gulp.
Now that he started, he couldn’t stop.
“Kiss me- kiss me, p-please.” He’s finally darting his hazy peripheries up from the floor to look at you, you, and only you. Dragging in a deeeep breath of your air, his half-lidded pupils were begging- “Kiss me, baby.”
You’re humming, the curved edges of your fingertips curling ‘round Choso’s nape and pulling him in.
He’s melting.
He’s melting and melting into the kiss - as if he’d been dreaming of this for just as long as you have. Even longer.
Strong, sturdy hands wrapping around your waist to tug you against his hardened front, you gasp at the sweltering hot temperature he was radiating. Already feeling beads of perspiration starting to form across your forehead-
He’s sucking in a sharp breath, “Need to- need to tell you something.”
Words huffin’ out through glides of his berry-pink lips across yours, each one wrenching out like it pained him to part from your candied mouth with each sloppy mwah! Blindly, he slams the door shut with the heeled back of his foot. “There’s- a- a thing-”
You’re grinning once his voice breaks - breaks, as soon as you’re sipping on the cold spherical piercing homed at the edge of his tongue like your favorite gummy candy. “A…thing?”
Through a slightly-cracked eyelid, your gaze sinks down between Choso’s thick, meaty thighs. Instantly feeling a wave of sap flood your mouth at the massive cylindrical bulge that tightened his sweatpants uncomfortably.
He was just too cute.
“A ‘thing’, hm?” You’re breaking off to smirk, twisting a silky lock of his hair around your index in a way that makes the looming man in front of you shiver. Chasing and chasing your lips- he was so weak for you.
Giving in, you’re just about getting ready to kiss your best friend silly once more - but what meets your ravenous mouth isn’t his soft, plump lips anymore.
No, it doesn’t even feel human.
What instead greets you is something frigid and slimy. Something that crushes you to him with a strength tenfold of what Choso had been using - almost animalistic - until you’re lurching back and gaping at the fact that your feet were now dangling almost two whole feet off of the ground.
Snapping your head to his face and-
What…the…f-
“Don’t scream!” In a startling split-second, that black mass of goop masking Choso’s face slithers away in tiny tendrils to reveal, well, Choso.
And honestly, you’re not sure if that wants to make you scream even more or just shuts you up completely. But whilst you ogle whatever it is in front of you, Choso keeps plowing on.
“This- ah, this is what I meant by a…thing.” He’s stammering out nervously, dark brows crinkling with nervousness as he watches on for your reaction. “Basically- a few weeks ago- my body got infected by this alien thing- a ‘symbiote’, it said, and I-”
“Improved.”
You’re feeling that temptation to exhaust your lungs with yells once more as Choso’s swallowed up within that dark matter.
Muscular and big.
Except this time it was formulating a mouth - all wide and decorated in tiny, jagged canines - and slanted white eyes with not a pupil in sight. A dexterous tongue gliiiides down the crevice of its sharp mouth, glittered with strands of slobber. “We are Venom, pretty girl. And you smell…”
Venom’s voice was deep. Coarse. A rumbling bass that made the very bottom of your stomach quiver- you’re distracted only by the growling sniff he lets out. Monstrous ivory eyes locked right between your heated core-
“-delicious.”
Oh…he was reaching well near eight feet and twitching from the inside out once Choso fights to regain control.
“A-as you can see-” Smiling sheepishly down at you - you blink, and your best friend was suddenly back. Eyes hooded, mouth snarling, looking ruined. What the fuck. “-he really seems to like your scent and it’s driving me-”
“Stop talking, boy, and mate the girl.”
“Shut up.”
You blink almost owlishly in disbelief, and in something…else, as you feel your thighs clench together. A slight motion that Venom surely doesn’t miss, if the way that Choso’s lungs heave with more gulps of your sweet, sweet leaking pheromones was anything to go by.
And then, you’re finally piping up– “Let…let me see that tongue of Venom’s again?”
.
.
.
“A-are you sure? W-we’re best friends, and I’ve never…”
You’d be rolling your eyes at the repeated question if it wasn’t for the fact that Choso Kamo just looked so pretty when he was knelt obediently at the very foot of your bed.
A thin sliver of sweat sliding down his temple, breaths coming out in heated gusts, slender hands balling into a fist and shivering once you smear your legs open just a fraction more. Twitching, white-knuckled like he was forcing himself to not just ruin you right then and there.
“Mhm.” You’re nodding, and the very action is enough for him to snap his eyes down where your cotton panties were starting to dampen and swallow. “Please, handsome- don’t be coy.”
It was almost too good to be true.
But, fuck, Choso wasn’t waiting around ‘till he wakes up from this dream.
With so much pent-up eagerness that he felt his lips twist into a sleazy grin- Choso’s crawling himself the few inches it was to stuff himself nose-deep between your pretty legs.
“O-oh.”
First it was the tiniest tug on your restless hips, then it was a sniff- and then it was a bite of his honed, glossy pearly whites over the lacy lil’ bow homed on the hem of your underwear. A throaty groan snarling through his teeth– “Oh, baby…”
That did it-
Quick as a flash, he’s snagging his teeth on the flimsy fabric of your panties and all but tearing it off of you. Rip-rip-ripping to simply push its tatters to the side, Choso doesn’t even fully take it off before he was simply drooooling.
Gulping and gulping the scent of your leaking hole.
“Sweet.” He gasps out, words taking on a dark edge. And you swear the chocolate color of his irises looked as if they were almost glowing, “So sweet.”
“Hurry, the symbiote hungers.”
Sharp jaw ticking as he ignores Venom’s request, the fattened pad of his thumb spanks down on your swollen pussylips and spreads you all wide open. Cock twitching at the deafening wet squelch! that chimes once he gathers copious wads of saliva and spits.
All over your lustrous cunt, slicking out a mess so great that it was already starting to form a puddle underneath your silken sheets.
“And mine.”
“Tch.”
And Choso wasn’t just greedy - he was outright gluttonous.
“You…you taste this sweet, baby?”
“Oh- ohhhh fuck–!” You’re shrilling out a syrupy moan once his chilly tongue piercing flicks at the tippy-top hood of your clit like a lollipop. Taking extra care to press down hard so that it has you thrashing-
“There? S’that good?” He’s roaming his mouth over your puffed-up lips eagerly, yearning. Not knowing what he was doing, just addicted. “You’re so wet, baby- s’this for me- r-really, really f’me?”
He just couldn’t believe it- and the only answer he’s getting is a few soft gasps of oh! and yes! Spit n’ whines overflowing your tongue with every slap of his textured tastebuds. You couldn’t help but nod your head down and admire just how drunken Choso was as he’s suckin’ away on your perky clit.
The hollows of his cheeks sucked-in and flushed red, spit-glossed mouth wrapped snugly ‘round your sensitive nub.
You’re whimpering, head thrown back at the grunts he muffles out between your legs.
“M-more, Cho–” You mewl out in a tone that makes his tensed hips rut forward like an animal, immediately grinding against the firm base of your bedframe. Fuck. Snaking a hand down to intertwine with his mussed-up bangs, and tugging them free of his bun- “Wan’ more.”
“More.”
“Hear that? I wanna taste.”
His tongue’s so thirsty - throat so parched - that it lets out the most sinful sluuuuurp at the very first slobbery drag from the dewy base of your quivering pussy, openin’ up your plump folds so widely agape to lather down on the very top of your clit.
Nodding and nodding and nodding- grinding up to tease the mushy tip of his tongue past your slippery folds just the tiniest bit. “More- please.”
And it’s not like Choso didn’t hear you - fuck, it’s that you’d broken him.
Because it happens in a singular nanosecond, it happens so fast you’re seeing cartoonish stars in your vision when he’s hauling you halfway across the bed like some glorified ragdoll.
Thighs thrown over his shoulder, trembly hands guided through his sweaty scalp, mouth wolfish-
“Keh. No wonder you’re a virgin, boy.”
“Sh-shut up.” He’s answering out loud, sending the most electric buzzes down your spine as he nips on the fleshy slope of your pussylips. His own ears pop! as the pointed curve of his chin hits your treacly cunt with a smack of skin-on-skin, so deep. Nose-deep till those lined tattoos on his face.
Ready to suffocate if he has to.
“Oi- give me a taste, and I’ll give her…more.”
Upper lip glueing to your pussy, Choso’s making you scream every time the sharp ends of his fangs snag on your clit. “Shut up shut up shut up-‘
“Ch-Cho?” Fuck, it takes you every ounce of strength in your body to lift your head up from your creaky bedsprings. Glassily eyeing the way that his grip on your hips turns bruising with semi-circular claw-marks of his, “Everything hah! alright?”
And shit- he breaks off slightly from your dripping wet pussy once- twice. Thrice, each n’ every time letting off a pained grunt that forces him back to stuff himself at his favorite spot between your legs.
He couldn’t even break off to speak. To breathe.
Still murmuring his response at the outer edges of your saturated core, with so many numerous strings of slick dangling from his rovering, swollen lips. Gingerly, “It’s V-Venom, he…wants a taste too.”
“Oh.”
And shit- Choso didn’t need Venom’s superhuman abilities to notice the instant that you’re growing so much wetter. A silky torrent of sap gushing out of you to lacquer your inner thighs like a fountain, already making him lurch- and suck and suck up every pearly droplet.
“I…” You’re starting off, lip chewed underneath your teeth in a way that almost makes him jealous. The memory of his extravagant tongue still fresh in your mind, “-wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh? Well…”
“-about time.”
As Choso lets Venom take over, you can’t help but gasp.
Oh, you were never getting used to this.
He was about two feet taller, hulking, monstrous. And the only thing more lecherous than that toothy grin he wore was his tongue - sliiiiding out all its endless inches and swaying teasingly to n’ fro in midair. Big.
So, so big.
“Eyes…” He’s looming over until scalding hot breath humidifies your features, tonality so gruff that it rumbles your very bones. Oh, he already knows of his effect on you - can flick his tastebuds out and taste it in the saccharine air. “Lungs…pancreas…”
The curly, reddened end of it stingingly slapping down on your thigh, Venom’s tongue is oh-so-long enough that he can lace it all over your shivering leg and wrench them further and further open–
“Pussy.”
And then it feels like you’re being split apart- just a few solid, thorough inches of Venom’s slimy tongue burrowing past your puffy folds, keeping your jolting legs pinned firmly by a few of his Stygian spirals.
One taste. One taste is all it takes.
You’re being rendered utterly stupid by the swashing flicks of his pointed muscle stirrin’ up your insides, wriggling in circular slurps around and around and around your gummy walls. Scarfing you down until his tongue reaches the very gooey bottom of your cunt and kisses your cervix.
So hard that you’re pushed up the mattress and he’s forced to wrap a few tendrils that reel you back down again.
“Heh, finish line.”
“What- oh…oh my god-” Tears drip down in constant rivers from your heavy lids, wailing whimpers breaking off from your larynx at every smack-smack-smack he left on that spongy end. Further pushing aside your panties, retracting aaaaaalll the way back to thruuuust- “Y-your tongue is sooo big.”
“So many snacks. How good.” He’s tittering out with a thundering pant, spiked ends of his canines littering your skin with gnawing bites. “How delicious. How…”
He’s sloshing his tongue almost aggressively inside, whacking your g-spot in-between his barreling journey to fuck you with his tongue just as much as he wanted to with his cock.
Lolling sloppily, thrusting, dragging the ridges of his tastebuds across your g-spot.
And it takes you a few more vulgar strokes, it takes you the sound of that familiarly melodic voice for you to flap your tear-heavy lashes open and finally look once more between your legs. “-mine.”
It’s almost as if both Choso and Venom couldn’t decide on who wanted to make out with your soft, candied pussy more.
Because it was your best friend’s pretty upper half of his face peeking out from between your splattered legs, but Venom’s mouth that was pumpin’ addictively past your rubbery entrance. Over and over.
“N-ngh pleeease!” Comes out your repeated record of whines, every mushy gyration so good that you can’t help but rock into every second of his frenzied cadence. Creeping down one of your hands to smear your pussylips wider with a soppy slurp so that he could go even deeper, “I-it’s so good- don’t stop don’t stop.”
And the look in Choso’s dark eyes is the most raw glint of disbelief that you’ve ever seen.
Unsteady thighs clenching as he hits his v-line against the wooden board of your bed and grinds, unwilling to angrily fist his raging cock the way he ached n’ leaked to, unwilling to take his hands off of you for a mere second.
“N-no no, move that hand, baby. Lemme see her- Please.” You’ve never seen your cute best friend dare to be so rude- urgently swatting away those few fingers of yours to replace with his own knobbly, greedy ones.
Pressin’ on your weeping, swollen clit with the flat end of his digit - you’re coating his chipped black nail polish with so many layers of goopy slick that it trickles down to his wrist.
And oh, you’d almost forgotten just got many frigid metal rings that Choso wore on his hot fingers. Sappily nuzzling the inside of your left thigh the very moment he’s slipping his middle past your widely messy hole and curling–
“How could I? How c-could I stop?” He’s muttering away - octaves higher than you’re used to, hitting and hitting your bruised and battered g-spot at the very same tempo that Venom was, too.
Double whack after whack that made your spine arch curvaceously off of the dampened mattress, icy edges of his rings scraping your walls. Choso just salivates at the heavenly sight of you below him, “How could you even- think- I’m-”
“-addicted.”
And Venom chooses just this precise moment to make your stupidly muddled mind remember his presence until you can’t think at all.
Prolonging his plumply constricted tongue - using his symbiotic powers and extending it even more feet stuffed inside your tightly cozy walls, slashing the very tip to become split-ended.
“Pretty. Pretty pussy.” He’s groaning out carnally, and your throat rips with a scream once he’s starting up a thrusting pace that flicks at your weeping cunt with those two slithering ends of his monstrous tongue. “Don’t know who’s prettier- you or…”
You’re shivering then - shivering at the windy gust of air inhaled once Venom tugs you even closer by his black coils and sniffs. Breath hot, his French kiss on your pussy hotter. “-her.”
“Fuck- fuck, you’re making such a mess, Choso.”
“Mhmmmm—”
Shifting between both his tongue and Venom’s - every transformation had you dizzy. Alternating between Venom’s hard, almost violent thrusts with his split-end tongue to Choso’s sensual tickling of his piercing into your most favorite spots.
Glittery slick and spittle dripping down like a glazing polish, Choso’s swallowing down every sweet gumdrop like he’s a man starved.
Like a damn dog in heat, every pant of the honeyed pheromones between your legs was driving him fucking mad. Making his hips thrust-
“Sh-she’s drooling almost as much as ngh- me, baby.” He’s fighting back that damn parasite for more more more of you- for every squelch! once he’s mazing his second, third lengthy finger inside.
Searching for your g-spot like treasure trove - hitting and hitting, you’re so pretty and gone that Choso’s chuckling. “Ride it.” Pap-pap-pap goes his hits to your delicate, most tender spots, faster. “Ride it- yeah, ride m’f-face like it’s yours, baby- ride it.”
“S-shoooo much–” And you don’t know whether it’s the torrents of slicked saliva falling from your mouth or the sheer overstimulation that has you jumbling up your syllables - but it’s enough to make both Choso and Venom grin. “It’s so ngh- haaaa–”
“She’s close.”
“Fuh-fuck.” He’s spitting into your drooling lips, right above your pulsating nub. Ringed digits so thick that it makes your knees shake and weaken. Sloppy. “Faster. Harder. Use me, baby-”
Again and again and again.
Your brain’s fuzzily stupid by the time you finally recognize that familiar twist at the bottom of your tummy, too. Blubbering out an unsteady, “P-please! M’not gonna- ngh! last, Cho.”
“I know- I know I know I know– make a mess.” He’s spitting out once more, letting a wad of saliva stream straightly down your slit and liiicking it all up before Venom overtakes him to keep on probin’ your entrance fully. Swirling every speckled tastebud until it was like the symbiote was trying to brand you–
And with a gluttonous swipe at the fresh beads of slick homed on top of your nub, Choso wastes no time before pinching your clit-
“Cum. Cum on my tongue, baby. Mine.”
-and making your field of vision simply shatter with tears once you’re crashing into that built-up high.
“Shit- shiiiiit. I-it feels so good, Cho- I’m- nghhh I’m…” It was an orgasm like no other- fuck, any of your toys were paling in comparison to Choso and his…parasite.
Fully himself now, you gawk with your mouth unlatched into a sagging oh! at the primal way that Choso’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs with each eager swallow. Thin lines of sappy slick falling from the pink, puckered corners of his lips and waterfalling all down the side of his damn throat.
“Th-tha’s it-” His sopping wet tongue drags uuuup n’ down your open folds to trawl you through your euphoria, every lolling flick of the curled end jostling against your thoroughly-stuffed folds.
Pumping, pounding your glutinous walls until they’re sticking to his barreling digits like adhesive, the metallic band curving his fingers smooches your g-spot softly. Dimly-lit molten eyes widening at the sheer ribbons of sap you’re letting off with every white-hot bolt of pleasure.
“This- this is all f’me–?” He’s crooning out, dazed. Letting his jaw fall open with every quiver you’re instinctively clenching with your cunt, “All for me- me. More- more, baby.”
“For me, you mean.”
Choso- Venom- Choso just keeps on alternating their slobbering drags of your hips until you’re completely wrung dry. Even the tiniest spank of their rugged tastebuds making you squeal with overstimulation, tears pinpricking behind your eyes.
“Aw, c-c’mon–” Your best friend slurs out in a tingling, pussydrunken tone - so gone that his perspired head falls n’ cuddles your thigh. Begging, “M-more…?”
“But Cho…m’sensitive.”
And he’s perking his head up like the thought didn’t even occur to him - only then do you get a final, filthy look at your best friend after so long.
Grinning, he sucks on each of his polished, soppy fingers. Each and every one - looking right into your dilated pupils, “That was my first time.”
Fuck.
He was pretty.
Granted, you always did know that, but right now - with Choso’s dark strands of hair hooding his half-opened gaze, what little you could see of his eyes gleaming, cheekbones burning scorched red - he was dreamy.
He’s wearing your saccharine wads of slick like a medal of honor.
Thickly coating everywhere from the tattoo on his nose, to the lower half of his face, to bubble all down his jaw. A slippery wire of it spills from the corner of his mouth as it starts moving, an almost airy tone seeping into his voice. “I-I’m never wiping this off- hey!”
Before he knows it, Venom’s tendrils dart out to filthily lick off the remnant excess his host cherished so much.
Grinning, “Delicious.”
Fighting back his damn alien acquaintance, you stifle a giggle as Choso’s rosy lips jut out into a pout. Lifting his knee onto the bed- well, grindin’ it right between your legs so that he’s putting pressure on your throbbing slope.
Fleshy thumb and index squeezing your cheeks together, “Spit in my mouth.”
“Wh-what?”
“Spit-” His sweaty forehead sticks against yours, humid breath clouding up your senses. And you could count every long lash, every smudge of his dark eyeliner. Hiccuping, “-in my mouth.”
And the moment you do- fuck, the moment you’re pursing your spit-glued lips to let out a saccharine web of saliva that slops right down his pinkish tongue with a splat! So loud and filthy and sinful that Choso only as the time to breath out a shallow ‘fuck!’ before he’s cumming.
Burning hot and feverish. Right then and there to create a dripping damp spot in his trousers- “Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit- you’re t-too-”
“Great going, virgin.”
“Shut up-” Choso grits through clenched teeth, desperately trying to heave his breaths back into some semblance of normalcy. Failing, once you immediately reach over and tug his sweatpants down-
He was cumming and cumming so much that you’re met with a white, streaming wet mess that gleams down both of Choso’s meaty thighs. They’re shivering with each ribbony string of seed that oozes down his long limbs, “O-oh, so pretty, Cho.”
“Oho? She’s an interesting one.”
“I-I know…”
And you’re not just talking about his orgasm.
Because when you’d imagined - on those long, lonely nights - that your best friend would be big…you didn’t expect that he’d be big.
Damn near ten- no, maybe even eleven inches of fat, hot girth that swelled his mushroomy tip to be as cutely pink as a strawberry and just as thick.
Your mouth waters as you follow the winding lightning patterns of his puffy veins, oh-so-prominently bloated that you swear you could count every throb-throb-throb.
And what- what was that?
No, you weren’t imagining it. Choso Kamo had a tiny studded Prince Albert’s piercing right near the tip-top of his bulging cockhead. Cold and sparkling underneath the dim bedroom lighting.
Mindlessly, you’re darting over to swipe one of your thumbs across a creamy bead of cum that’d started drenching his dark happy trail.
“O-oh.” Choso grunts at the look on your gorgeous face once he’s letting his chubby balls twitch n’ soak your skin with yet another splurging streak of seed. Again. Just from you touching him. “No one’s ever touched me like this- fuck!”
And you just had to find out whether he tasted as sweet as he looked.
Planting your mouth over his juice-capped head with a wet plop! you hum with utter delight at the caramel salted taste of him. Aching and pulsing underneath his piercing with just the tiniest kitten lick to his leaking orifice.
“Do it, boy.”
“Wh-what?”
“Do it. I’m inside your mind, do it.”
And Choso really wouldn’t have considered being that rude - really.
He really, really wanted to take his time slow n’ sultry with the one person who’s been the girl of his dreams from the moment he met you.
But fuck- Venom was jerking his body so that with the slightest rock, he’s rutting like a fucking animal deep inside the hot cavern of your mouth. Staining a milky white lipgloss around your plumpened lips, pushing his seed inside—
Venom wanted to see you choke.
“M-mmpf—!” And you can’t lie about the way the sheer force and heady musk of Choso’s v-line made your thighs squeeze.
“That’s it- cry. Cry on my cock- atta girl.”
“Fuck! I’m sorry-” He’s panicking from above as your pretty nose detaches from the curly black tuft of hair at his toned pelvis. “I’m sorry I’m sorry, baby. Are you-”
Only…for all his concerned apologies to shrivel up on Choso’s tongue when he catches the way you’re smiling.
Cockdrunk and stinging at the back of your throat with the way that Venom had actually elongated Choso’s already-massive cock just a few more centimeters by accident. Oh, fuck…
The hazed look that’d crept into your eyes as you look up makes the towering man shiver. Striking him to his very cock, “C’mon- fuck me, Cho.”
“C’mon. Don’t wanna disappoint the pretty girl.”
Choso doesn’t even remember getting rid of his undershirt, his sweatpants, everything but his silver rings and necklace - but what he does remember is the way your eyes had widened just the slightest fraction as you took in all of him.
Shit, was he sculpted by the Greek gods or what?
You could count every one of his eight, toned washboard abs - making the broad width of his pecs look so thick. So engulfing as they tense n’ ripple once your best friend slouches sexily on top of you to pull off your cotton t-shirt.
“Oh.” He’s gasping- you’re not wearing a bra. Completely naked underneath him except for the lecherous remnants of your torn panties still hanging on.
Ones that he keeps on - even when you try to shuffle them down with a whine - once he’s flipping the two of you over to let you straddle his slenderly sculptured hips.
“Keh- this position.”
“Shut up and watch.”
Blushing and pretty.
Choso’s teary lashes knock against the apples of his cheeks as he blinks furiously up at you, throat scratchily raw. Gulping more of your scent, “R-ride me, baby.”
“Cho–” You’re sliding the mounds of your ass gingerly against his aching hot length, shudders skittering down your spine at the sheer size of him pressing up into you. “Y-you’re so big, though- don’t know if it’ll fit.”
“I’ll make it fit-”
“A-am I actually that big?” He’s whispering, in awe. Watching with damply bated breath as he’s spanking his cock against your right ass cheek with a wet smack! smack! smack!
Pointing that curved, bulbous tip right between your pussylips and sliiiiiding it up n’ down so that you’re coating him in all your sweet juices, Choso’s guiding his girth until your hole was quivering for something - anything.
Him him him.
Panting at the first squeeze of his reddened, blushing tip- “Oh, you feel like th-this?” His pitched voice wavers almost as much as his heavy eyelids, falling apart with just that first taste of your perfect cunt. “Fuh-fuuuuuck fuck fuck fuck! Baby- you feel like this?”
This was heaven.
And he’s spurting out a few stray wads of cum just from feeling your velvety walls, letting it thwack! against your goopy innards n’ stick to your trembling folds.
“You got it- you got it.” Choso’s voicebox cracks with a lil’ whimper at that snug resistance, “You can take it- you can take it. I’ll make it fit.”
“Oh- oh my god- Choso- Cho–!”
“S’it too biiig for my girl, hmm?” Croaking out in unison with the aged bedcoils of your mattress, each and every time Choso jerks his hips off the bed and pushes. Just to fit in. “Baby-” Choso gasps as you throw your head back with a mewl at the sheer size of him.
His painfully-aching cock was so big that just the stoutest inch being bullied inside was enough to make your vision blotch with white. Rounded circumference stretching n’ stretching your slick-flooded walls stupid- “I’m sorry, baby- sorry s’big. But you’re my girl- my girl can take it- you can…you can take it.”
It’s inch by overlarge inch.
Choso’s scraping his way down your walls so sensually that you could feel your fuzzy brain sparking every time one of his prominent veins was draaaagging a zig-zagging pattern along.
Curled toes twitching with each passing second, “S-s’it almost all the way in, baby–?”
“Mhm—” And you’re just letting out the cutest cry once he finally eases himself all the way in, practically impaling you. Head throwing back, tits bouncing, cunt overspilling.
“Hmmm…maybe this position isn’t so bad.”
Choso didn’t disagree, but it took every single shred of rationality left inside of him to push back Venom’s rasping voice and wrench out a desperate thrust. Allll the way from the globular ends of his ruby-red tip till your sensitive pussy tickled against his soaked-through happy trail.
Tenderly caressing your palm down his hardened front, “I-it’s in–?” Your hitched tone makes his eyes roll back, and yet- and yet, he’s fighting to bring them back down n’ watch your gaped bounces back into his sloppy pace. “It’s in. O-oh my god, c-can feel you all the way in hck! here.”
He’s just so big.
And you’re swearing that Choso only fattens himself even bigger, fatter, wider once you slide your hand about halfway up your tummy. Feeling for that one spot he was bruisin’ right into your spongy cervix.
Biting his lip not to cum again, “Yeah-” You’re jostled ever-so-slightly on top of him as he’s sucking in a deeeep breath, “Yeah yeah yeah- you got it. Y-you better take all of it hngh! Take every. Single. Inch.”
Every vein, every sliding ridge, every throb that was bucked into your readily-awaiting entrance- Choso wasn’t just mazing open your cunt-
He was spearheading you with such thorough thrusts that made your back curve backwards just so.
“Tch- I’d fuck her even better.”
“No you w-wouldn’t.”
Lazily weaving tendrils start tickling your outer pussy, threatening to slip n’ slide their greedy way past your lips. “Is that a challenge? Summon Venom, if you dare.”
“What’s he saying, Cho?” You coo, tear-shimmered lashes blinking adorably down at his internal argument. And as if he could ever say no to you - hell, the response is dripping from his tongue before he even realizes it.
Grouching out, though he couldn’t deny the way his own cock was jolting at the very idea- “H-he wants a try, too…says he’ll be even better.”
A cockdrunk smile plasters itself onto your face- “Prove it.”
And you were right in your prediction - Venom didn’t just make Choso meaner, it made him bigger.
So big, in fact, that the bawling tip gently kissin’ your g-spot was instantaneously skidding past to give your cervix a longer, harsher probe.
So hard that you’re sure there’s now a permanent crater of his exact meaty circumference. And you’re being filled with the distinct feeling that Venom could’ve gone bigger - he just didn’t want to break you…yet.
Draping across his oversized pectorals, you’re nothing against his over eight foot height. “Y-you…”
Those slimy raven molasses covering his half-fucked face once more to form a rude Cheshire-cat smile. “Me.” Planting an Earth-shattering, mind-numbing ram you’re feeling all the way in your lungs, his pulsing length is so widely thick that Venom has to bite down on his lips and manhandle you for his thrusts to move to and fro. “I am inside your pussy, greedy girl. Me.”
Flicking his dexterous shaft to brush your tingling g-spot, he’s using his powers so much that you could almost feel yourself bonding with the symbiote, with Choso.
“I know every inch, nerve, and spot inside of you. I can make you scream-” Coiling mass contracting to barrel your elastic walls even wider, you’re rightfully crying out at the way he molds himself deliciously into your very walls.
“Nghhh- fuck! Fuck, y-you’re in sooo deep-”
Stealing your sweetened scent, making him heated. “Hmmm, kiss me.”
But that didn’t mean that your best friend- your…Choso was going down that easy.
In a few more brushstrokes of his ravaging cock against your softest spot - before you can kiss him - Choso’s blinking back the cobwebs of his symbiote so that his face spies out. Only the lower half of his body - his length - partially-covered–
“Keh- annoying.”
“Should’ve- should’ve done this sooner-” He hisses out through a narrowed pant, flecks of spittle flying angrily across the non-existent space between your two faces. “-done this muuuuch sooner- you h-have no idea.”
“O-oh nghhh fuck fuck fuck–” The backs of your thighs ache after every slamming pap! you’re bouncing back into his swervin’ hips.
Pounding away like he was crazed, every jackhammer only makes Choso grow more feral. Every swab of his prolonged cock inside your silken pussy feral-
His rummaging, fat-tipped shaft was so large that you could feel the way his ridged cockhead scraped your cervix with his studded Prince Albert’s, roaming like a searchlight to spot your most favorite angles.
Eyeliner practically staining down his cheeks now, “Should’ve fuh-fucked you the moment I ngh- met you. Should’ve fucked you r-right there on the lecture table in front of everyone- sh-should’ve—” You’re squealing once his doughy, ringed fingertips dart down to toy with that pretty lil’ clit of yours. “-should’ve let her drive me hck! crazy sooner, baby.”
Oh, he was babbling.
Cooing, you slither one of your hands through the dampened valleys of his dark hair, “Awww– d-drivin’ you crazy, Cho–?”
“Yes.” He’s seething, he’s heaving. Saturated pheromones driving him mad, he can’t help but flop his pierced tongue across your lips and suck. “S-s’not even that damn parasite anymore-”
Pace growing sloppier by the minute, barely even noticing when those same digits coddling your clit had started to twist and turn in shape. Overtaken by Venom and his meeeean tendrils that alternate between dragging on your overstimulated clit and slipping inside…
“Sh-shit– Venom?”
“Sayin’ another man’s name when I-I’m here- ngh–” Choso’s nosebridge crinkles as he teases you, watery honeypool eyes dropping down to where your glossy hole was swallowing him whole.
Mouth falling into an ah! at the way Venom’s wisping vines were still wrapped snugly to smooch your walls wiiiide open. And fuck- fuck, the sight. The sight of you bulging with all of his staggering cock still taking in more, more, more of him.
“I see…” He’s giggling - giggling, glassy eyes boring dead-on up at you through his curtained bangs and oh- they were shaped into hearts. Baritone voice rasping as one of his veins itches your walls, snagging past your underwear. “Greedy girl.”
It’s almost as if you didn’t know whether it was Choso or Venom taking over now, only fucked dumb with every sharp jut. Both his cock- his tentacle-like strands spreading you open, targeting your g-spot over n’ over with his plummy, split-ended tip.
Digging inside, scouring so wetly.
Spread twice as open that the squelch! squelch! squelch! of it resonating each nanosecond was quickly becoming Choso’s favorite song.
You were damn near shattered.
“I-I’m so close-” You’re hiccuping through your salty tears, brows scrunching at the stormy wave of bliss that was surely oncoming. “-f-fuck! Choso m’gonna cum.”
“Fuck- fuck, m’not gonna last either–” His response comes out guttural, and it’s just so sexy the way that he’s forced to gnaw on the strawberry gummy texture of the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from filling you up right then and there.
“Breed her.” Venom’s voice thunders out enough for the both of you to hear, excitement spiking down your spine and straight to where your pussy was drooling. “I know you want to. I know you both want it.”
Shocked, Choso sounds as if he could still barely even believe this was all real. “I-is that true, baby?” Tentatively craning you over to drag his lips softly against yours, “Can I really…inside…my girl?”
“Mhm– please- please, I wan’ it all inside—!”
“G-get ready.”
The plush, cushy tip of his cock outlines a water-logged line straight down your cervix as Choso leans further into the bed. Feet planting down flatly so that he can pressurize his powerful, inhuman hips to thrust-
“She’s about t-to be full- so full.” You can feel such pangs of desire as his teeth pull back into a primal snarl, tear-glinted eyes locked permanently where his red, swollen cock was disappearing between your legs. “So full that you won’t even remember what it ngh- feels like w-without me stuffed inside this cunt.”
Squirming with a yearning for sweet, sweet release once he hovers a fingertip over to about halfway up your tummy and draws an invisible line there.
“H-here.” Deepening it with the pressure of his rude digits, Choso’s right hand still rolls over your clit with a few shapes of hearts. Once. Twice. Thrice. “Get ready here–”
Whining, “I’m- I’m gonna-”
Before Venom’s slimy tendrils pinch it once more and you’re cumming- and so is he.
But Choso doesn’t even realize it - doesn’t even remember to breathe the very moment you’re creaming all down his pummeling cock. Such cute twitches taking over your body as you shut your eyes and riiiide it all out.
Using his sloppily saturated shaft like a dart that was pokin’ the bullseye of your pussy again and again. Every brushing skid straight across slapping your g-spot repeatedly to drag out your high with a squeeeelch.
And Choso’s licking his lips at the glossy lathering that glued to your folds, then - and only then - catching sight of the dollops of creamy white that was frothing out of your glistening entrance.
Thick and hot.
Every splat! of his ribbony sap hits the back of your pussy like heavily condensed cream, swashing inside of you like a sizzling second skin. It feels so filthy to have his mess beading down your walls and forming such a soaking ring ‘round his bulky hilt.
Your meaty folds spread to smear the puddle that was forming up his happy trail, “You- you feel so good inside.”
“O-oh-” Almost thankful as Venom’s dark strands push aside your torn, sullied panties further for his host to take a better look. Blushing all the way to the tattoos across his nosebridge, “A…a creampie.”
He’d cum- he’d really, really cum - inside of you. Pressing down on the prettily jiggling tummy bulge he was fucking into you- and it’s enough to make you scream. “Want more.”
And you’re just tapering off from your own orgasm, eardrums nearly popped yet still managing to register those words. Clenching, “Wh-what? Will it- hngh- even fit, Choso?”
“No- nononono it will- it will.” Urgent, rapidly he’s flipping the two of you immediately over to hover on top of you and rut- like an animal.
You’re gasping once your head plops down on the soft mattress, heels struggling to cling onto Choso’s sweat-laminated hips until he’s trekking his beefy arms underneath and hauling them over his shoulders. Bending, bending, bending into a–
Oh, a mating press.
He had you manhandled like some lawnchair into a mating press. The sloppiest of its kind, he’s using Venom’s tendrils to lock your ankles together in just two blinks of his eye.
“I can make it fit–” Growling through the tiniest gaps of his grit pearly whites, he kisses his forehead to yours and inhales that sweet scent of yours still permeating the heady air. The chilly heard pendant of his necklace hits the front of your chin and makes you keen. Rough, rugged through punctuating rams, “I will- I will I will- it’ll fit- It will.”
Shivering and shuddering.
He struggles to even focus his eyesight on you properly - and Choso’s heated maw droooops at the deafening squelch! your pussy pushes out once he sinks all the way back in.
A thick capping of white syrup rising all the way to the top once his massive girth once more fills out your every nook and cranny. He’s still so ravenous that the sight down there is enough to make his mouth water.
And this position, this angle made Choso’s elongated shaft lean into your g-spot so bruisingly that with only a few more strokes you’re cumming again.
Fleeting, and faster than you both know it.
It’s only once Choso sniffs at the air and grins that he realizes the rapidly pulsing ba-dump–! of your velveteen walls was because you’re bein’ his good girl and cumming once more.
Heavy breeder balls striking the treacly slope of your cunt until they were raw and red - you’re sure that the both of you are bruised everywhere. His thighs on your own, your ass on his pelvis, you can’t even wriggle your ankles free because Venom’s keeping a firm grip on them.
Rendering you at the full mercy of Choso’s thrashes dragging out your high, “P-please- fuck- it just f-feels too good, Cho-!”
“S’good- s’good-” He’s flushing out in something that looks like a mix of relief and need. No sooner milking himself on your tightly clenched pussy until you’re being filled all over again.
This time with white, wispy ropes of seed that ache his sensitive shaft to spray out, still coating your gummy walls with viscid layers upon layers. So much.
“So good f’me- so good. Look how much sh-she’s ngh- suckin’ in, sooooo full and- and warm…” He was practically twitching right now, trembling. “Jus’ look at that greedy girl.”
You couldn’t even be moved without feeling all its wads splosh inside of you.
And he still wanted more.
Yelping, your legs struggle to shut once his sloppy cadence turns even sloppier. Lazier.
“O-one more-” Choso’s puffing out in a clouded pant, “Keep- keep those pretty legs hck! open f’me- I beg. M’begging- take it, baby.”
Vein-covered forearms placing attractively upon either side of your head to lace right on top of your crowned scalp and push- Weaving wines of the symbiote winding down to furiously pump his cock.
To bloat himself up oh-so-thick straight after two whole orgasms, flying up and down up and down up and down to make his cherry-red divot start weeping once more. “One more- one more.”
“Nghh fuck fuck- Choso–!” Your lower lip wobbles cutely at the carnal glissade of his washboard abs down your own front, he was so strong that you could count every flex and ripple. “S-shooo sensitive-” Eyes shuttering tearfully, you can only jerk your hips up weakly. “-so much. Too much.”
“Never too much.”
Venom’s voice speaks up from somewhere, and you’re feeling the snaking, slimy journey of his tendrils twistin’ around your tits to grope. A greedy handful that teases your hardened nipples so–
“Less talking. More fucking.”
“W-woah-” Choso breathes at the sight before him. You were ruined in only ways he’d seen in his wettest dreams - and it’s not like he was doing any better. Because the way your hips were moving…“B-birthing hips- look at h-her take that big fuckin’ cock. So pretty- so pretty so pretty so pretty.”
You’re so overstimulated that even the slightest brush of his lightning bolted veins makes you gasp- tears springing up to your eyes. “F-feels so…oh.” So good, his stamina was maddening.
“Yeah? Yeahhh? S’all for you- only for you-” Purposefully pressing up close so that your poor clit gets rubbed over by that patch of tawny brown at the base of his abs.
And by now, even Choso’s swivellin’ cold piercing was molten hot and drawing wet slides of cum across your walls. Fervently.
He was fucking you like he couldn’t get enough - would never possibly be able to get enough. Every thrust had him pushing you down once more after the papping recoil, gliding your feverishly sweat-slicked bodies against each other because Choso couldn’t bear to part. “Only for you only for you only for you-”
So gone that he almost doesn’t even register Venom’s deep tone muttering in his ear– “Three.”
Every heated bang of his mushroomy tip plummeting to the back of your overspilling cunt was meant to milk himself. Over and over, he’s tempting out just one more orgasm - just one more to fill you up with more cream. “Two.”
And in your rambling stupor, you’re being drilled into the mattress so spellbound that you don’t even notice the way your unfastened mouth nibbles on Choso’s sexy silver necklace.
“One.”
Gnawing on for dear life as you squirt.
“Oh.”
Simply spraying him with a voluminous heap of your sweet, sappy juices - Choso has the mindless audacity to crane his head even further downwards and catch whatever stray remnants hit his awaiting maw.
“F-fuck…” You feel like you’ve just been put through ten thousand wringers and milked dry from your poor, tingling core. Gushing and gushing- it’s almost embarrassing how much you’re leaking around Choso’s meaty base.
Well, embarrassing for everyone but Choso…and Venom.
He was mesmerized - he was hypnotized. A glistening few droplets of pussydrunken drool slipping from the corner of his mouth as he just watched himself get drenched in all your torrential orgasm whilst he emptied out for the third- fourth, fuck he doesn’t even know - inside you.
Raw, and messy - milking himself until he’s hitting a damn dry orgasm.
“O-oh.” Choso doesn’t even know what to fucking say above your cutely trilling mewls, every languid pump of his flinching cock sending massive shockwaves through both of you. He blushes, “Oh.”
“That was fun. Now, make her yours or I will.” Venom grumbles, the symbiote already starting to take over Choso’s body with its blackened mass.
And the man jolts- remembering all at once that this was you you you underneath him. Thumb absent-mindedly reaching down to write his last name over the mess spurted across your tummy.
You, who he’s wanted all his life-
“M-marry me, my girl.”
The smile that breaks across your face is one he’ll remember for eons.
“I love you, too, Cho–” You’re purring, tucking one of the mahogany strands plastered onto his forehead behind his ear.
“I love you.” He’s bursting out at once- rose-pink lips wobbly and wet against your own. He’s kissing you like he needed you to breathe, “I love you- oh, how I love you.”
“Satisfying. But we need more.”
“Dammit.”
And Venom doesn’t care - Venom cackles to himself as he seethes in yet another gust of your honey-dipped scent and pulls out. The sensitivity startling through your body is so shocking that he’s shooting out a dark web that attaches your hips to the bed. Unmoving.
But, of course, he takes his leisurely time to stroll near the edge of your bed. Monstrously hulking over it to sweep apart your bloated pussylips and watch the way Choso’s cum driiiiips out.
Now completely encompassing his body— “A three course meal. Yum.”
He was far from done.
You’re sobbing at the sloooooow draaaag of his glistening, large tastebuds down your weeping hole. Unapologetic and primal. “F-fuck! Your stamina…” It was truly monstrous just how pent-up that he was right now, being pushed off by your new boyfriend- fiancé? for so long now.
Holding you tight with a few tendrils ‘round your waist to keep you from running—
“We’re going to keep this one.” His long, venomous teeth sink into your inner-thigh, not toxic to you. Not at all, but claiming; and the feeling was as good as cumming again. “You’re ours now, pretty girl.”
bf!choso, who watches you shower through the glass pane door just to masturbate and drool over your pretty body.
bf!choso, who loves being on top just so he can watch your face while he ruins you.
bf!choso, who watches you get ready through the mirror, pretending he’s not staring while absolutely memorizing every movement you make.
bf!choso, who clings to your waist when you walk past, like he physically can’t let you out of reach for more than a second.
bf!choso, who sneaks peeks at you changing clothes through the cracked bedroom door, his hand slipping into his pants to stroke his hardening cock while imagining burying his face between your thighs, lapping at your wet folds until you beg him to stop.
bf!choso, who drops to his knees the second you snap your fingers, eyes wide and pleading as he nuzzles against your inner thighs, inhaling your scent deeply before spreading your legs wide and diving in to suck on your clit with desperate, sloppy hunger, his tongue flicking relentlessly even as tears stream down his face from overstimulation.
bf!choso, who begs you to ride his face after a long day, gripping the sheets as you grind your pussy against his mouth, his muffled moans vibrating through you while he swallows every drop of your arousal, refusing to let you pull away until he's made you cum at least twice.
bf!choso, who watches you sleep at night, his gaze fixed on the way your shirt rides up to expose your panties, leading him to carefully pull them aside and lick slow, worshipful stripes along your slit, waking you with soft whimpers of need as his obsession takes over.
bf!choso, who follows you around the house like a lost puppy, stealing moments to press his face into your crotch whenever you're sitting, inhaling greedily and humping your leg subtly, his submissive whines growing louder if you tease him by denying him a taste.
bf!choso, who masturbates furiously to the memory of your last encounter, replaying how you pinned him down and made him eat you out for hours, his cock leaking pre-cum as he edges himself, whispering your name like a prayer until you catch him and punish him by sitting on his face again.
bf!choso, who gets on all fours for you without hesitation, arching his back as you finger his ass while he eats your pussy from below, his tongue thrusting deep inside you in rhythm with your movements, completely lost in his submissive haze and the intoxicating flavor of your juices.
bf!choso, who leaves voicemails of himself moaning your name while fingering his own hole, describing in explicit detail how he dreams of you using his mouth as your personal toy, begging for the chance to prove his devotion by making you squirt all over his face.
notes: i used terminology from omiai for this but it is in fact run very differently from omiai, which i am hand-waving by virtue of sorcery clans doing things differently, which i have Thoughts about.
warnings: 18+ for allusions/mentions of smut. one brief pov change, naoya is his own warning, misogyny, arranged marriages & (failed) arranged marriage negotiations, parental death from a vague illness & a brief non-explicit deathbed scene, borderline dubcon kissing(?) and a brief moment of dubcon touching, pregnancy mentions/mild descriptions throughout.
“She’s old,” Naoya drawls, tossing the rirekisho aside. “Thought ya were supposed to be good at this.”
“Zen’in-sama,” the nakōdo says, wincing, “she’s not that much older than you a—”
“Ya deaf? She’s old. Next one.”
The nakōdo hands over the next rirekisho silently.
Naoya slides the picture out first; pretty is the most basic of his requirements.
And you are pretty. There’s a hazy familiarity to you, too, especially with the way the silk of your hōmongi drapes over your form. The understated wisteria motif sweeps over your shoulder like a path, and he follows the soft cascade of flowers to the swell of your breasts. Perfectly accented, perfectly framed.
But it’s the sweet timidity to the tilt of your lips that snares his attention.
It’s easy to imagine you wide-eyed in his bed, being molded to his touch, his wants, his needs. He can shape you as a sculptor does clay.
Because Naoya knows you’re malleable. The promise of it is in the elegant positioning of your hands, the downward tilt of your shining eyes. He can press you into easy compliance, leave his fingerprints on more than just your skin.
"Quiet." Valko clamps a hand over your mouth as he ruts into you, and you bite down on his fingers to muffle the moans spilling from your lips.
It was a mistake to cling to him like that during a family reunion, you knew, but ovulation and having him so near was a potent combination. Now here you were, locked in one of the bedrooms at his auntie's place, the noise of the party downstairs reminding you not to make a sound.
He hisses as you ease up, your teeth leaving behind marks on his hand that only make him more feral. He pushes you into the mattress and you sigh into the comforter as he slides his monstrous cock along your slick walls.
"Couldn't help yourself huh bunny?" he purrs smugly into your ear, smoothly grabbing your hands and pinning them against the bed as his hips meet your ass. You squirm and whimper in protest but your traitorous pussy only sucks him in deeper, the crude wet noises echoing quietly off the walls.
"Look at you so wet and eager for my knot." Sensing you're about to cuss at him, he nuzzles the back of your neck, licking the shell of your ear and offering you his thumb, which you suck obediently.
"It's ok. Horny and drippy bunnies shouldn't socialize," he teases.
Your mind fractures as he does those nice, delicious, deep strokes, the curve in his length brushing your gspot just right.
"Don't think," he breathes wickedly into your ear. "The family will be thrilled to have more pups around. Even if they were conceived right here in auntie's house."
You flush, hot shame filling your belly but you're trapped underneath him, his movements growing sloppy as he nears his climax.
"That's it little bunny. Getting bred so sweetly, so happy to carry my pups." He grunts harshly as he finishes, warm seed spilling into your spasming channel, burying himself to the hilt as he swells, knotting you completely until you're panting from the stretch.
"Perfect little mate." He bites your shoulder tenderly. "Gonna look so good knocked up with my pups."
Valko asks it all casually, clacking away at his laptop as you sit on the couch, one of your legs right next to his shoulder, brushing it a bit.
He tries his best not to sink his teeth into the plush of your thighs, eyeing it as his cock starts throbbing. He tries so hard not to snatch your phone up and throw it, demand your damn attention, sniff you.
It's especially hard not to sniff you when you smell so fucking sweet, ruining him every time he is alone with you - which is often, given the assignment you two were on together. That and you have become friends, which he doesn't wanna fuck up with the wolfish way he wants to claim you.
Bite you, mark you, make you his.
Breed you-
"It's just Caleb," his eyes narrow behind his glasses now, looking right at you. "What? He is in town."
"Uh huh... Caleb," he repeats- he knows his ass is obsessed with you. Who could blame him, really? But you should be paying attention to him right now.
Not Caleb!?
"Well, what's he saying?"
"He was asking to come to dinner and... ah! Did you just bite me!?" He growls before he can stop himself, his teeth sunk into your thigh. You suck in a breath, smacking at him. "You bratty dog!"
"I am not a dog," he grumbles, smirking at the glittery teeth marks on your skin. "Tell him you are busy."
You blush when he sets down the laptop, spreading your thighs and kneeling, his ears twitching as he looks up at you - your heart hammers in your chest.
"Oh. Should I?" You tease, breathless when he slides his hands up. Sharp nails press against your delicate skin.
Leaning forward, he is far too close, inhaling your skin, breath against your inner thigh, making your pussy drenched.
"Valko..."
"Tell him. Now, sweetheart," he murmurs, done with pretending.
He needs you.
He can smell your juices, see the darkening of your panties when his pretty eyes flicker to your cunt. Pushing your thighs further, you drop the phone.
"Ah-ah," he bites your other thigh. Your hands come to tug on his fluffy ears, making his tail twitch side to side. Cock leaking. "Tell him you're busy."
"Fuck, okay," your shaky hand picks up the phone, your eyes getting lidded when his nose brushes your pretty pussy over those panties, you suck in a breath at it, fingers faltering. "mngh..."
"Tell him," he says in a soft little hum, inhaling you again, palming his cock to adjust it, feeling it swelling with how badly he wants to devour you. "If you wanna cum, you will."
"Fuck you're a brat," you mumble as he tugs you closer, shoving your knee up over his shoulder, nose inhaling your cunt again. "Are you gonna just sniff me !?"
"Till you answer," he sighs. "I could do this and cum."
"Freaky wolf, ah!" He bites your inner thigh, your juices just slippin' down further, in rivulets against his face, his glasses fogged up with his breaths. "F-fine."
Sorry Caleb - I'm busy tonight.
You show him the screen, and he smirks, a curve of his lips.
"Good girl."
Fuck.
Valko tugs your panties aside, looking at the mess your cunt is and moaning at the sight, tongue hot as it laps you from your ass to your clit, then back down, not just tasting - he's fucking lavishing you, spit soaked tongue dragging through your folds. "V-Valko I..."
"Good, good, good... good girl you're s-so... good," he's gripping you bruisingly now, slurping your messy, needy hole, the juices just pouring - his adam's apple bobs as he gulps you down, his glasses just slightly askew from the way he's drinking you. "Taste s'good... fuck..."
He could almost cum from the taste alone, greedily dragging his tongue from your slutty, quivering hole to that twitchy clit, all while you're gripping his hair with one hand, the other rubbing his ears. It feels so good as he lets you coat his taste buds, watching your eyes roll back in your skull.
You shatter so fast, but he's not even trying to make you cum - he just needs your taste, he needs your scent, biting your clit before he can stop himself, the action having you squirt right down him, all over his sweater and his collar. He laughs softly as you whine out, arching your hips, thighs quivering.
"Please... in me, mngh..." You see his slick face and blush, the dark mess you made on his sweater apparent as he takes it off, standing, his cock leaking through his sweats.
You go to touch him but you don't get a moment, he's got you turned and bent over the living room table, that sweater of yours gripped in his huge hands, claws ruining the material without him meaning to. He spits right on your cunt just to make it even messier, it's so wet she doesn't even need it, laughing as you arch, thighs shaking.
The phone goes off.
Valko hums a bit, looking at the message.
"Aww... he misses his 'pips'. Cute," Valko laughs, lost now - he's not the goofy little jerk you're used to, not when he's lining his reddened tip with your hole - no, he's feral. "Should we show him how you're doin'? Hmm, sweetheart?"
"N-no, psycho," you're wetter at the idea, and he notices, rubbing his tip up and down your slit, torturing you as you arch, begging for more. "In me, in me... in - ah!"
Valko slides his veiny, thick cock deep, his tail wrapping around his body and tickling you as he groans, head falling forward, that heavy weight pressing you down. He's as big there as he is everywhere, his grin against your skin felt before he bites your neck, shoving in fully.
"S'deep... you're..."
You're a babbling mess when he pins you there, twitching inside you, cock dragging your sweet spot and kissing it over and over again. You're a drooling mess the more he moves, the more his cock rocks in and out, thickening and swelling impossibly.
"Should call him, huh baby? Let him hear your cunt he wants s'fuckin' bad," Valko can't stand it then, thinking of anyone with the girl that should be all his, every instinct on fire. "All mine, yeah baby? Breed your messy cunt till you're all mine, can't even talk, can you?"
"Mhm," you're shattering when he fucks you faster, meaner, a hand on the table bracing himself as he bites your neck till blood drips, lapping it up so his lips are crimson, moaning against your skin. "Valko... please..."
"I'll give it all to you," he's sinking his teeth again - marking you his, ones he hopes last and last, as his cock is soaked, and your tacky walls are milking him. "Fill you so full, won't be able to see anyone, will you?"
You shatter with one more drag of his fat tip, and that's when it pushes him over the edge, his knot swelling as his cum fills you to the brim, coating your walls in white. He's biting your shoulder, your neck, your arm, everywhere he can, as that fat knot stretches you, hurting so bad you're in tears - but fuck it feels good.
"So much... s'much, V-valko..." you whimper as he moves that knot, kissing all the places he's marked you, moaning softly. His tail twitches as it tickles your skin, his ears curving down.
"Perfect, f-fuck you're so... oh baby I don't think it'll go down I..." He's never had this happen, not being able to calm it down, locked and knotted so thick in your tiny cunt. He keeps kissing you, moving back a bit, hearing your little sharp breath. "Want me to keep this cum plugged inside you? Hmm, breed you, baby?"
"Yes, yes," you're drooling, looking at him with dilated eyes, all covered in his marks. "K-keep it all.. in ... your knot it's so..."
"Mhm, I know baby," he's soothing you even as he rocks it in just an inch - back and forth, until he's pressing all his cum right against your puffy lil cervix.
You're cummin' again and again, but what you don't realize is...
Valko left Caleb all of that on a voice message </3
cw : est, poly relationship, threesome, head m. rec, penetrative & unprotected sex, guided blowjob, teasing, slight cuck kinji, pet names, kirara's thick & kinji's big, clit rubbing, creampie, swallowing, not proofread. poll winner.
ⓘ Featuring Kinji & Kirara love to fuck you right !
Whining while Kirara fucks you always feels like a humiliation ritual.
Each teasingly slow snap of her hips, the rolling grinds against you, her fingers rubbing your clit in soft circles, how were you supposed to remain quiet?
Hakari loved it, seeing his pretty girls make each other feel good until he joined in, watching up close & personal from the edge of the bed.
He'd clench his fists at each desperate noise let out & fought himself to stay put and just enjoy the show, but it could be hard.
"Kir—mngh—faster baby, please?" You cried, attempting to press your hips back against her. "I need you."
"Aw, baby." She cooed, sucking softly on the skin between your shoulder blades with a shallow thrust. "You need me? How bad?"
Kirara slowed her hips to a stop and tapped your hips slowly, rapping her fingers against the skin with a soft hum.
"So, so, so bad, Kir, please?" You let out a pathetic whine & Kirara had to hold her breath to not let out a moan. "Please, baby?"
She loved it whenever you'd beg for her.
She loved seeing Kin's reaction to you begging for her.
"Mm. Only if you're a good girl. Can you do that? Be a good girl for me & Kin?" She purred, guiding your chin to look up at Hakari.
"Yes. Yes, ma'am. I can, please just fuck me properly." You pleaded, giving your hips a little wiggle against hers & finally drew out a groan from her lips.
Kirara gave the round of your ass a light swat, starting a steady pace. "Good, good." She paused, looking over Hakari & his starstruck gaze glued to the pleasured expression on your lips. "kin baby?"
He glanced away from you, just for a moment & saw how Kirara's hips slammed against yours & visibly twitched.
Fuck, you two were so hot like this.
"Want her to touch you?" Kirara teased, stroking up your back slowly with a particularly harsh. squelching thrust. "C'mon, ask her, maybe she'll help you with your… situation."
Kirara gave a slow point to the strain of his sweatpants as you gave out a soft giggle. Kirara's hand quickly lowered to rub the small of your back again.
She always made sure to show affection while making love, even when she was teasing. The tenderness was as important, if not more important, than the actual sex.
She dragged a hand down your stomach, giving your clit a soft rub, soaking in the sharp mewl you let out, arching in pleasure at the way you clenched around her.
"Fuck, baby." He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You know what you girls do to me, don't you?"
She let out a sarcastic scoff as she pulled you up, her chest pressing almost flush to your back, giving Hakari a pretty view of your tits bouncing with each thrust.
"No idea what you mean." She cooed playfully, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as she ground her hips against yours. "We're—ah—just enjoying ourselves, right sweetgirl?"
"Mh-hmm." You nodded dumbly, leaning back against her with a whine, grasping lazily at her arm & holding it steady as you rubbed yourself against her fingers.
Hakari loved this, seeing how good Kirara made you feel. The dripping mess between your thighs on a perfect, sloppy view.
Seeing each thick inch of Kirara disappearing into you with every thrust.
How your greedy cunt eagerly sucked her in with your thighs quivering. He imagined himself in your girlfriends place & let out a pathetic whine.
"Babe." He rasped, reaching out to grasp one of your hands, guiding it over his aching length. "Help me out here, won't ya?"
"Aw, sweet girl, look." Kirara cooed, cupping your breasts as she pressed you back against the bed. "He's all needy for you."
Hakari shot her a quick pout for taking away his view, but smirked as he took in the flush on her cheeks & the slight shake of her abs.
She was getting close & with the sound of your mewls against the comforter, you were too.
"Mn. Kin." You cooed, dragging one of his thighs closer, nipping at the skin while meeting his gaze, whimpering at Kirara's needy thrusts. "S'big baby." You stroked him slowly through his boxers, resting your cheek on his thigh.
"I'll show you big, baby." He crooned, roughly tugging his boxers down to free himself.
Hakari grasped his base, pumping once & grinned down at you. "Open up." He tapped his flushed tip against your lips, groaning as you did.
You eagerly swirled your tongue around his needy tip, grasping his hip as you bobbed slowly.
"Oh… look at her, Kin baby," Kirara whined, resting her chin on your shoulder, thrusts falling frantic. "Our good girl feels good, no?"
"God, so fucking good." Hakari agreed, guiding you to take him deeper, Kirara's hips faltering at the noise of you choking around his length & finally collapsed on top of you, spilling her seed deep inside you with a sharp mewl.
She sighed shakily, reaching out to pull your hair from your cheek & help guide you against Hakari.
"Oh god, just like that." Kinji groaned, his head lulling back as his eyes screwed shut. "I'm going to—" He cut himself off with a loud, needy moan, grip instantly loosening in your hair as you gagged around him.
Kirara let go too, sitting up behind you to watch as you pulled off Kinji, wiping your bottom lip as just a little bit of his cum dribbled out down your chin.
"You did so good for me." Kirara cooed, rubbing your hip gently. "Knew you could be a good girl for me if you really wanted."
surely your brother won't mind that you're dating his kōhai!
contains: socmed au oneshot, most of the slides not sfw (mdni), reader is kita shinsuke's older sister, workplace romance, neighbor au, osamu is in his late 20s & reader is in her 30s, miwa kageyama is a lesbian & bff, suna mention (because there can't be an osamu fic without a suna mention); this is really very silly and unserious for the funsies <3
