choso is a good boy. he loves making you feel good and rather you take control by telling him what you like. there’s nothing hard dom about him. he’s more of a “do you like this?” “how does this feel?” “you want me to do it again?” type of lover. intimate isn’t even the word to describe the love he’d make with you. choso is passionate. when having sex, his main objective is to make you feel good. and when you’re not coherent enough to speak because you’re fucked out of your mind, he’ll pay close attention to your reactions while he’s pleasing you just so he doesn’t miss another way to make cum.
goodboy!choso will ONLY somewhat take charge when he begs you to ride his dick faster and harder—all while praising him for how well he’s taking you. cheeks flushed pink, dark locks disheveled and stuck to his forehead, practically panting and losing breath from the immense pleasure he gets when seeing you above him. choso is fucking obsessed with you. he sees you as perfection and will forever submit to you.
goodboy!choso cums hard and begs to fuck his nut deep inside of you. he loves the feeling of your release mingling with each other, hot moisture coating his dick and you clenching uncontrollably.
choso loves being your good boy, and that’s something he’ll never get tired of.
Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pregnancy, mentions and acts of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 6-10x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), dubcon/noncon (not any actual smut other than vague mentions of sex), implied postpartum, implied survivors guilt
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: Today is a new day and after I got home from work and did some fine-tuning, I finally posted the FINAL CHAPTER (not including the epilogue) of Survival!!! I honestly find it funny that I had originally planned for this story to be a short series and it just spiraled into two years of writing! HAHAHAHAA!!!
JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue
Emptiness.
It was a feeling that you bitterly greeted after having abandoned it six years ago. It was disappointing, but welcome nonetheless. You wished it was under different circumstances. You did not know which circumstances but knew it was anything other than this.
After the destruction of your life, everything went back to the beginning. You were rehomed in a new village and a different temple, though you could not tell much of the difference. Those blank walls still drove you to insanity. The marriage ceremonies had resumed and more children began crawling the halls in a matter of months.
Sukuna had seemingly lost interest in you after the incident. You had finally snapped, extinguishing the anticipation for the hopes that you would one day. Despite his seeming lack of interest, you were still watched over with diligence, still resided in his chambers, and still acquired a caretaker.
Your mental forces were deteriorating, and it was clear from the blank expression that graced your face. You assumed that Sukuna acknowledged that and decided to have a sitter stay on top of you if you were to do something unexpected– much like what you had done to your village.
The curse user knew the extent of your rage, but he did not quite expect you to leave your home in ruins, to burn your family into nothing but ash. Little to your knowledge, a part of him admired you for that; however, the words that left your mouth after the act had been done brought him a discomfort that neither himself could explain.
From the way he was rutting in you currently, you could not tell. Another attempt of impregnating you. Years ago, you would have had a mind to beg him to stop, and when you could not accomplish that, feign pleasure. You used to want to please Sukuna not for his benefit but your own. Now all you cared about was embracing the feeling of that emptiness as you merely felt the man fucking you: soundless, motionless, thoughtless.
It took a matter of months before you were with child again; however, unlike before, this pregnancy was worse. In the physical aspect, you were overall healthy, but your mental health was far from good. You were a husk of the woman you once were, having lost all ambition for your future. Even when spontaneous thoughts of what life would be like outside the temple, you could not help but feel nauseous.
Guilt.
There were times you wished you could have blamed it on your pregnancy and escape the reality of the issue, but your mind would not allow it. You were repulsed with yourself and could not help but feel like you were betraying your twins by just the simple notion that you were alive, and to think of a future for yourself without them revolted you beyond compare. Your pregnancy did not make it any better.
Most women in the temple thought of pregnancy as a fresh start after losing their previous offspring; a new chance to impress their husband– a sickening point of view; however, you could not be upset with them. Deep down, you believed they had been just as afraid as you were upon their arrival when their village elders proclaimed them the next tribute to Sukuna. They more than likely had a plan to make it out of this hell and made promises to return to their families, but somewhere down the line, all the manipulation, physical strain, and mental stress, caused them to accept their fates and try to make the best out of it, losing themselves in the process.
You were not so lucky.
If pregnancy was a punishment before, it was a curse now. Knowing you were to have another child brought you great remorse. Anytime you were to look or even feel your bump, you could not help but think of the past... to think of your twins. It felt like you were betraying them, trying to unconsciously replace them even though your pregnancy was out of your control.
The way you would eat at yourself could have been considered torture.
Besides the normal work around the temple, you would spend most of your evenings in a dark and unoccupied room, keeping to yourself. No one dared to disrupt you, mostly out of fear due to the knowledge of your power. Few left you space out of respect, knowing the pain you were going through; however, sometimes you wished they would walk through that door, hoping they would attempt to comfort you.
It would have been a good distraction from your running mind.
Those dark and quiet rooms gave you time to think and reflect. You realized there were many things you had undermined and denied for your own sanity. The list could go on, some minor, some major…and the major miscalculations stuck out like a sore thumb.
Trimester One.
Despite your efforts, your village nor your family would have ever accepted your children– Sukuna's blood coursed through their veins, and that was enough to consider them a monstrosity. Your hopes of escaping with them and living a happy life were an illusion you conjured up to keep a drive in you.
Trimester Two.
Whether you liked it or not, your twins would not stay innocent forever. The twins were under Sukuna's guidance, no thanks to your pact, and they absolutely adored him. The twins blindly trusted him with their entire beings and would have believed anything Sukuna had taught them was for good, and you knew for a fact that is how your partner would have spun it. Their acts would have been malicious and cruel and they would not have even known...and despite your want to tell them the truth, the constraints of your pact would have stopped you from doing so.
Trimester Three.
Even if you had successfully run away with your son and daughter in hand, the life the three of you would have lived would have been far from peaceful. You and the children were proven valuable assets to Sukuna; to think that your husband would give you all up so easily was foolish. The curse-user would have hunted you down to the ends of the world until you were back in his grasp.
And as you sat there holding your new baby girl, tears streaming down your face as you listened to her whimpers, you hoped she'd grow up to be a fool; a strong, but foolish girl. If your daughter grew up to be a fool, the world could not hurt her as it had hurt you. If she becomes a fool, she would not have to feel the burden you were feeling.
You hated that you hoped for her, hated the fact that you loved and cared for her after laying eyes on her small figure. The whole scene was pitiful. The arms of a mother holding her child close to her bosom as if shielding them from the world– the effort could be appreciated but was futile because the looming threat was already hovering over you as he inspected his creation. If his presence was not unsettling enough, his hum of satisfaction horrified you, causing you more tears.
"I should have killed myself that morning. It would have saved me a lot of heartache..." you whispered, repeating the words you had mentioned over a year ago.
Months back into motherhood you found yourself questioning yourself and your emotional availability every time you looked at your daughter. You were doing all the right things, but performing the tasks felt heavy on your shoulders, and the smiles you painted on your face felt like they were caked on. None of it felt real. There was no doubt you cared for your little girl, but you had to admit that the task was tiring– caring was tiring.
You thought the feeling would end, believed it was temporary, but days turned into months, and months turned into a year.
You had just finished your daughter's first inspection and were now in your sleeping chambers with your husband. You both stood there silent and unmoving, staring at each other with hardly any indication of who was willing to speak first. Fortunately, your daughter was the first to break the silence, whining as she clung to you. You sighed as you understood the child needed attention, moving the baby into a better position to lightly bounce her, attempting to calm her down.
"You know, I thought you would be overjoyed to be blessed with another child, Y/n," Sukuna sounded as he studied you.
"Whatever do you mean? I am nothing but pleased," you blankly responded, focusing entirely on the little girl bouncing in your arms.
Silence once again.
You could feel his stare burning into you; feel his agitation radiating off his skin as he looked for a real answer. Sukuna was not an idiot, you were aware of that, but his meaningless probing was getting on your nerves. You would much rather he got to the point than play his mind games. If he was going to be indirect, you would only do the same.
"Do you think of them when you look at her?"
There was a halt in your movements, breath hitching as you did so. You slowly moved your head to look at the man before you, your gaze piercing. You had every intention to avoid the question, but your mouth betrayed your mind.
“What do you think?” You snipped, a grimace forming onto your features.
“I could make you forget, simply remove them from your memory to rid you of this…ailment.”
For what felt like the thousandth time of your life, you could feel your eyes widen, however, this was the most appalling statement your husband had made. Had he really suggested ridding your memories with your twins? Had he no remorse? Of course not, why would he? The children were a means to an end, nothing more than a few pawns in his plan. Any love and affection the father had shown his son and daughter were shown with calculation and precision– there was no meaning behind those affections.
"You sick bastard."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"Y/n, I would advise that you watch your tone," a warning glare, "If I did not know any better, I would say that you were speaking out of turn when I am offering you such a gift– I do not offer such things lightly."
"Well it is good that you know better," the seething anger bubbling in your chest was choosing your words at this point, "How could you suggest such a thing?"
"I am doing you a mercy, Y/n, you are letting the past consume you from the inside out, and sooner or later you will become the image of your agony."
"You know nothing because if you did you would be in the same state as I am. You speak as if you know sympathy, but your words are honeyed to keep me in your grasp!"
Your breath was heavy as you confronted Sukuna, glaring daggers into his soul as you watched him step closer.
"Your perception can be quite bothersome at times, Little Flower; however, I believe it is what I admire most about you. I think it is why I chose you...why I love you."
Love.
Love.
Love.
"Love."
Your laughter was hysterical. The tears welling up in your eyes from pure disbelief and humor. Sukuna Ryomen himself has admitted to loving you for the second time. This time claiming he chose you because he loves you.
What a joke.
"Love me?" you choked between giggles, "Sukuna, you would not know love if it hit you in the face. Like I said before, your words are coated with the sweetest sugars to keep me around, to bring me hope, and quite frankly, the sweetness has become dull and bitter," a pause as you caught your breath, "You do not love me Sukuna. As I have stated, you love what I can provide you."
Silence had greeted you both for what seemed like the millionth time, but you could have been wrong, you lost count at this point.
"I understand the concept of love, more than you think, Little Flower; however, love has little meaning. So you are right, I do not love you, I value you. Is that not greater than love?"
You scoffed.
"You are going to die alone and I am glad that you will."
A soft chuckle sounded from your husband before feeling a strange feeling at the back of your head. You could feel the kanzashi pin moving in your hair as Sukuna played with the accessory.
"I highly doubt that."
Those four words had caused your heart to sink, bringing you more fear than you had ever experienced in your entire life. Without thought, you backed away from the man towering over you. You shook your head as you held eye contact with Sukuna, almost stumbling on your feet as you felt for the door and clumsily exited the room. You had your daughter close to your chest as you entered the hallway.
What little you had of your life came crashing down instantly as the gravity of your reality unfolded to its full extent.
You would never be free and although that was a realization you had made long ago...this time you had no hope to convince you otherwise.
So what did you do?
You ran.
You flew through the corridors to the gardens, arriving with heavy breath. Scanning the grounds you searched for the only individual who could help you right now. The moment your eyes registered the woman, you quickly approached, hardly paying attention to anything along your path as you made your way over.
"Y/n-"
"I have something for you!" you interrupted, holding out a pin you had stored and concealed for years, never knowing the right moment to give it to the woman before you.
The woman who had lost her sick and poor son on your very first inspection day.
You watched as her eyes welled up immediately, taking the pin and inspecting it as if to make sure it was real. When she was able to confirm the little trinket was indeed not a figment of her imagination, she held it close to her chest, letting her silent sobs escape before looking at you.
"Thank you. Thank you so much. But why are you giving this to me?"
You looked around hesitantly before pitifully looking at her, letting your walls crumble to reveal all your pain and suffering.
"I need your help."
"Uraume!"
"Yes, Sukuna-sama," the right hand responded.
"I would like you to gather the women and children from the inspection, I have an announcement."
"Yes, Sukuna-sama, I'll get right on it."
With that Uraume disappeared, leaving Sukuna in his quarters alone. The man paced in his chambers, reflecting on the prior conversation from earlier. The talk did not have the most satisfying ending, but much like the other unfortunate discussions that had been held between the two of you, this would be another problem that would resolve itself in due time.
The move would help move that process faster.
This village had quickly bored the tyrant, as they were quick to promise vengeance and destruction upon his empire. Same-old-same-old. So with that, it was time to move on to the next village after leaving this one behind in ashes.
"Sukuna-sama, the women and children do not appear to be in their chambers or the gardens, the workstations are abandoned too.
"What?"
Without a thought, Sukuna stormed out of the room and into the halls, those blank walls making the temple look more abandoned knowing that everyone had seemingly disappeared. He looked through every room he managed to pass, even using his abilities to sense the faintest amount of cursed energy. For a while, he came up with nothing, but after catching a familiar aura, he briskly started to follow the direction it was coming from.
The curse-user found himself in the main hall, where he saw his wives and children gathered. The husband would be lying if he claimed he was not confused with the situation, but he would not show that. Instead, Sukuna decided to try and decipher the scenario.
Upon first glance, it had seemed that the women and children were gathered for a usual gathering, but upon closer observation, something was off. The looks of the individuals in the room seemed to differ. Some women seemed relieved, others looked almost proud, and others...well, the last of the women looked as if they were being held there against their will.
As the monster-of-a-man continued to scan the room, he finally managed to find you, standing in the center of the room, your head held high; however, you looked exhausted, broken. It brought that familiar discomforting feeling to Sukuna, the same feeling when you had spoken those words after you had burned down your village.
"What is this, Little Flower?" Sukuna questioned with some amusement behind his voice, masking his indifference.
"Do not call me that," you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as it softly echoed in the room.
"Y/n-sama ple-"
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" you yelled, successfully silencing the crying woman who had shouted for you.
The atmosphere was tense, and he would tread carefully because Sukuna was no fool.
"What do you want, Little Flower? An apology? I can, obviously, give that to you, but we both know it would not solve much. So what is it you truly want?"
"To leave..." you weakly announced, watching as Sukuna gradually approached before stopping in his footsteps.
"Well then, Little Flower, you have gathered yourself and all your companions just in time, I was ready to announce our departure from this village. You get what you want, righ-"
"That's not what I want." you interrupted.
Sukuna was silent, his brow twitching in irritation as he stared at you, stopping mid-stride.
"Then what do you want?"
"I want the offer you gave me back on the table?" you quickly responded.
"And what offer would you be referring to, Little Flower?"
"On my very first inspection with my twins, you offered me to kill everyone in this room– I want to change my answer."
Your husband chuckled, "Do you not think the circumstances have changed a little, my dear? I gave you that option years ago, what makes you think that is something I am still willing to offer?"
"Because you love me..."
"Now you are willing to embrace that love?"
"Only if you do this one last thing for me. I will let you love me until my last mortal days, and me in return, just as long as everyone in this room dies."
A sly smirk, "As you wish, Little Flow-"
"By my hands!" you interjected.
Delight was an expression that Sukuna could not hold back at those words.
"It's a deal, Y/n."
"Perfect."
With those words sealing the pact, you took no further wait in your next actions. You ignored all the shouts and screams of those who wished to live, ridding yourself of whatever empathy you once had– you had to admit, it made things a lot easier when setting the room ablaze. Hearing their screams of agony and pain was a lot easier when you managed to wash out the humanity within you.
You could only feel relief after hearing all the shrieks and wails die out into nothing but silence. The room was filled with nothing but fire, bone, and ashes, the smell of burning flesh was prominent; however, that did not stop him from approaching you.
"I love you, Little Flower." Sukuna proclaimed, bringing his forehead to yours before softly kissing you.
He pulled away to look into your eyes, admiring them momentarily before smiling softly. Some may have mistaken it for a look of endearment, but it was a look of satisfaction. He had successfully taken your pride, dignity, and hope– he had taken all of you.
"I love you too."
And because you had no pride, dignity, or hope, left to hold on to...
It made it so much easier to bring that poison-coated dagger to your flesh and slit your belly.
For Sukuna everything went in slow motion, immediately swatting the dagger from your hand to the ground before cupping your wound, blood covering his hand in seconds. The desperate individual tried using his reverse curse technique to revert the damage, but it was pointless as you were resisting. For the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt genuine fear as he watched you slowly slip away from reality. And as everything started to play back to speed, Sukuna had a realization.
"Where is our daughter?!" The four-armed monstrosity yelled upon notice of your empty arms, continuing at attempts to stop your bleeding with little success.
Your smile made his heart drop.
"Gone." you sputtered, blood slipping from your cooling lips before going completely limp.
"...Gone where? Little Flower..."
"Little Flower!"
"LITTLE FLOWER, ANSWER ME!"
"Y/N!!!!!!!!"
You upheld your deal...you loved him for your last mortal days, it just so happened that day was seconds into a day, and as Sukuna sat there holding your motionless form, he could not have regretted anything more in his life. Making that deal was the best thing to happen in your life because in the end...
...You won the game of Survival.
And you hoped that your daughter could one day do the same.
𝑺𝑼𝑮𝑼𝑹𝑼 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑫𝑵’𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑷 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑨𝑩𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝒀/𝑵 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑪𝑨𝑴𝑬 𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑵𝑬𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑩𝑶𝑹. From the moment he laid eyes on her, he became infatuated. Y/N was breathtaking. Her curves were beyond full with a thick waist that Suguru dreamt of wrapping his arms around. Her complexion was the perfect shade of brown. Deep and rich, he would describe. Every time Suguru saw Y/N, she would part her mocha lips to flash that pretty smile, causing him to melt. Did he have a crush? No. It was more than that.
He was obsessed.
Somehow, Suguru gained the courage to introduce himself to Y/N. He noted how sweet she sounded. How her mango vanilla scent acted as an elixir that probably could've put him to sleep. He also admired how kind she was. Typically, people would be frightened of Suguru due to his piercings and tattoos, but upon meeting, she complimented him on those qualities. He never expected to become flushed from a compliment such as that. However, it was coming from Y/N, after all.
Although he was too nervous about making a move on Y/N, that didn't stop him from talking to her every chance he got. He studied her schedule. When she checks her mail. Take out the trash. When she would leave for work and return. Her personal outings with her friends. Any movement she would make outside her apartment so he could talk to her—he would observe.
But luck would sometimes be on his side, where he didn't have to pay attention to her schedule.
Y/N was a friendly neighbor. Suguru found out through small conversations that she had a tendency to overcook. When those times would happen, she would come knocking on his door to offer a plate of food. Suguru felt honored to have the opportunity to taste her amazing cooking. But if he was being honest—he was looking forward to seeing Y/N in house clothes.
She would wear tight boy shorts that had her cheeks hanging out. He felt like such a fucking pervert taking a quick glimpse at how puffy her pussy was, always sitting perfectly in those shorts. That white tank top that hugged her chest, tits so full, sagging perfectly with her nipples peeking through. Gosh, he wanted to fuck Y/N so badly. He would take good care of her if she allowed him. Unfortunately, for now, he was forced to hear the sounds of her moans through their thin walls.
Suguru became more jealous every time Y/N had a guest in her apartment. He would hear her sweet giggles that should only be reserved for him. He'd suspect whoever she had over was sharing a bottle of wine. She loves wine. Suguru remembers her saying that. And upon finishing the bottle, they would make their way to her bedroom.
He could hear the sounds of shuffling off their clothes while lip-smacking. Her being placed on the bed, suspecting that she was getting her pussy eaten. Suguru didn't give a fuck about the guy, but he was sure to pay attention because his words were helping him paint a vivid image of Y/N in his mind. Saying how wet and tight she was. Suguru could've guessed this himself from the loud, obnoxious sounds of her pussy being played with echoing throughout the room.
Her soft whimpers expressing how good it feels and that she wants more. Fuck, she's so needy, he thought. At that point, Suguru would already be palming his erection through his sweats. It's not like he could sleep. Might as well, right?
The mysterious man would finally give Y/N what she wanted. Suguru would press his ear against the wall to hear that heavenly gasp that aired through Y/N's mouth upon the initial penetration. He would listen to her pussy, queefing every inch that passed through her walls. And he guessed that sudden shriek was from her cunt being pounded into.
She was being fucked. Sometimes the curse words would coil in her throat, and some managed to slip past her lips. Y/N became vocal. She always was. Suguru remembered this much. She would moan the given guy's name telling him to go deeper. "Right there. Yes, fuck me right there. Please." Fuck, why did she sound like that? So damn pretty. Dulcet, to be exact. At this point, Suguru didn't give a fuck. Keeping his cock in his pants would only further the ache.
He pulled out his needy friend to be met with a crimson tip leaking precum. He'd eagerly rummage through his nightstand drawer, grabbing the lubrication to spread down his length. Suguru closed his eyes to only focus on Y/N.
His strokes were tender at first, matching the moans that he remembered from her. Blood rushed to his ears and cheeks the quicker he fisted his cock. Not only was Y/N vocal, but also her pussy. The wetness was clear. Suguru was glad for the thinness of these apartment walls, simply for aiding him in his perverted pleasures of listening to Y/N. He was happy for her getting the fuck she deserved. However, Suguru was envious.
It was supposed to be him.
He was supposed to be making Y/N feel good. He wanted to hear how sweet she sounded, moaning his name. See how she creams all over his cock, cum all over his cock. Suguru wanted to run his tongue through her fat pussylips to drink her juices. The guy didn't even take his time to appreciate eating her out. Suguru knew he would always make Y/N cum while giving her head before moving on to penetration.
Suguru imagined sucking on her clit, circling his fingers in and out of her cunt. Spreading Y/N's puffy pussylips to relish all her natural flavors. And after she came, he would fuck her into oblivion. He'd watch how her tits bounced with every thrust he made. Watch how she would swallow him. He knew Y/N would take him well. Suguru felt like a fucking satyromaniac. He was never like this. If he wanted pussy, he had several women in his contacts that he could choose. But he wanted Y/N.
He pumped himself faster, nearly ripping the skin off his cock. Those soft groans of her name remained on his lips. He'd beg, pleading, to fuck Y/N. To have her pretty lips wrapped around his cock to suck him off. Deepthroating him. Sucking his balls. Looking at him through her lashes with those big brown eyes while doing so.
Fuck, he was so close. Suguru's head lolled back as he let out breathy moans. He gripped his cock tighter, swirling his hands around his length. The sound of lubricant being spread resonated in his room. Suguru's chest heaved quicker, the heavier his balls grew. His cock throbbed with the thought of Y/N in mind. She was the cause of Suguru playing with himself almost every night. When will she come help him?
"Shit, Y/N," came out as a whisper filled with despair. He further pulled his skin down to hold it in place while his other hand vigorously massaged the tip. His hips jerked into his hands reflexively as the cum began rushing through his shaft. He went faster. Suguru clutched his cock with all the strength he had. The curse words sinfully slipped past his lips, now turned into cries of Y/N's name.
“Y/N—Y/N—Y/N. "He didn't even realize how loud he became. "Oh, fuck, Y/N. I need you."
He pumps.
"I want to taste you."
He quickened his pace.
"I want to fuck you. To cum inside of you."
He's there.
"Oh, God… Y/N, f-fuck."
And after a few more strokes, he lost his composure. An eruption of his cum sprayed all over his hand. Some even got his sheets. His walls. He was a cumming mess for Y/N. He grew sensitive, hips stuttering from squeezing out every drop of his seed. Such a waste, he thought. This could've been in Y/N's mouth—or pussy.
This has probably been the most he came from masturbating. Suguru craved nothing more than to be inside of Y/N. He knew he could make her feel better than anyone she had or would have sex with. But for now, all he could do was continue to hand fuck his cock while listening to her sweet moans and his perverted imagination.
Suguru barely recovered from his orgasm before he heard a knock at his door. He cursed under his breath from the sudden intrusion. Who could it be this time of night? He quickly tucked his semi-hard cock in his sweats, going to the bathroom to wash up. The person only knocked once, so he figured they had left, but he went to check anyway. And when he looked through the peephole, he felt his heart drop to his stomach.
He was hesitant to open the door. However, this was bound to happen with these paper-thin walls.
✧ summary toji has a little soft spot for his favorite customer that he can't get enough of.
✧ content warnings reader is a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. chubby!reader and inexperienced!reader. rich girl in her midtwenties, very needy! usage of profanity, standing missionary, oral - m!receiving, doggy style, mixture of praise and degradation kink, breeding kink, unprotected, creampie and squirting, terms of endearment ─ pretty girl, princess, baby, baby girl, etc. softdom!toji with rough, passionate, and filthy intercourse. told in first POV ─ toji's. i got reader calling toji TJ, and i think that’s so cute pls.
✧ author's note happy birthday to my baby daddy toji fushiguro! we've been going strong now for years. just a little something something to celebrate him. this fic has been in the drafts since December. talk about black people time, old sksk. also, if you already seen the original of this fic on tumblr, it's mine lol. this is just a revision, so don't go around saying i copied someone! my writing has changed so i wanted to redo this and add some adjustments. i hope y'all enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. ♡ AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND/OR MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT.
When it comes to women I fuck, I treat them the same because at the end of the day, they pay me good money to stuff their pussy with cock.
Don’t really care if they're married either. I usually get the old, desperate broads that aren’t getting any attention from their husbands at home, so it’s my job to make them feel good for the night.
I don’t do favorites.
I damn sure don’t give discounts.
And I definitely don’t get attached. But the moment I met Y/N that all changed.
My favorite customer.
Never did I expect a younger woman to pay me to get fucked, especially when she looks that good.
I’m almost positive she has a line filled with fuckers that’s desperately wanting to know what this tight, wet pussy feels like, yet here I am, living their fantasy.
I fucked Y/N once.
Then, twice.
Then, again.
And again.
And again…
If I didn’t know any better, I’m fucking obsessed with her. Can’t even say it’s just for the money she’s paying me. Probably the best pussy I ever had.
No.
It is.
So fucking warm, and she takes dick well, too. I usually give only an hour or two to my customers, but for Y/N? I reserved the whole night to relish her pussy.
The perfect fuck to end my day.
Those soft, sweet-sounding moans that slipped through her full brown and pink lips, having my previous cum shot staining them had me running wild.
But it seems like I’m not the only one who’s sex drunk.
Cock is all on Y/N’s mind right now. Whimpering and crying how big I am and thanking me for giving her dick. Tears pricks those chestnut-colored hues and I’m in fucking awe. She’s so damn pretty.
“You know how gorgeous you look taking cock like this? Being a good fucking slut for me, princess?” I ask, being met with a nod and her moaning in response.
Y/N’s pussy talks to me. Wet noises spreading throughout the room while I have my arms hooked under the fold of her knees, fucking her recklessly to push past any intrusion.
She’s jumping with me every thrust I make, causing her tits to bounce obnoxiously. I take one of her nipples into my mouth and suck on them like it’s my last dying breath, hearing that sweet whimper.
I belong in Y/N’s pussy, and she belongs to me, too, the way she’s gripping my cock and milking me. All of her cream and wetness drips between us and down my balls, and it feels fucking amazing. Every time I experience her velvet walls, I find myself becoming more animalistic, hungry and territorial over someone who should only be seen as a client.
But fuck, something in me says I would go batshit crazy if I ever found out she had other motherfuckers experiencing this.
Knowing how she looks when sweat coats her beautiful brown skin. How it feels to stretch her out and make her adjust to you. Just thinking about it makes me pound into her deeper and more aggressively.
“Toji, baby, yes. This feels so good,” she purrs. “Like that. Keep fucking me like that.”
I hum. “Yeah? This is what you wanted, right? Paid me to please this good pussy?”
By all means, Y/N isn’t a virgin, but she told me she doesn’t have much experience and I can tell by how tight she is.
Our sounds of pleasure resonate in the air, and I call her my good girl, praising how perfect her pussy is, to be met with her squeezing me and watery brown eyes.
“Toji… Toji… Yes. God, yes.”
“Keep using your words, pretty girl. Tell me how much you love my dick in your pussy,” I ordered softly.
“I love it so much. It’s so big, baby,” she tells me, slurring her words because of her lips still being on mine. “You’re going to make me cum.”
I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. “Not yet. Come taste yourself.”
Without hesitation, Y/N slides down to her knees and starts sucking my dick. I hiss at her swallowing me and the warmth of her mouth. She doesn’t take her time when sucking me off, immediately circling her head and throating me.
“Hot fucking mouth made to suck dick, huh, pretty girl?” I firmly grabbed her chin so she could look at me. “Eyes up, sweetheart. Open up your throat for me like a good girl.”
Y/N hollows her cheeks and bobs her head fervently on my dick, tightening her lips around me.
She sucks dick so fucking good, better than any other woman I’ve been with. And I just know I’m bound to bust quickly if she keeps doing this shit.
My hand finds the back of Y/N’s head to grip and I buck my hips deeper into her mouth, ensuring I hit the back of her throat everytime. I’m a fucking mad man when I begin fucking the gorgeous face, especially when she’s looking up at me with those big brown eyes.
A spoiled brat, prim and shy, who’s spending daddy’s money to get fucked and folded by an old bastard like me. Think I fucking developed a kink for this type because of Y/N.
I pumped into her mouth more aggressively until she began choking and gagging on my cock. Drool and precum coating her mouth in the process.
Any type of control Y/N tries to take, I push past it because I want to use that pretty little mouth of hers how I want. She needs to get her money’s worth when fucking with me.
“Going to fuck my cum deep down that throat of yours, and you’re going to swallow it. Got that?” She nods and I softly tap the side of her face. “That’s it. Keep those lips tight around me.”
“Toji, pl—please,” she slurs, causing me to chuckle.
“Hm, look at you. Trying so hard to talk to me while sucking my dick. It’s cute.” I slow down my quick thrusts, but replace them with more fervent ones, pushing me and her head down until my cock outlines her throat.
My balls grow heavy and obnoxiously slaps Y/N’s chin, a clear indication I’m about to fucking cum.
Grunting, whining, gasping like a little bitch for air because head like this has a fucker like me sounding like a broken mess.
Blood rushes to my groin and I start getting sloppy, feeling my muscles tightening and ache burning between my thighs. I’m close, so fucking close to filling her mouth with my release, then I can finish fucking that fat pussy.
Everything about this damn woman is perfect. Her pussy. How she sucks cock. That fucking chubby and curvy body of hers. A pretty face with loaded cash.
Yeah, she’s definitely mine after tonight. And I’m talking about anything lovey dovey. Meaning if I catch her being a slut like this to anyone else, I’d kill that fucker.
No hesitation. I-
“Y/N, fuck!” I grunt while cumming in her mouth. This load is fucking heavy, but she’s trying her best to swallow every drop.
I groan at the sight of Y/N touching her tits and palming her pussy, knowing how much she’s turned on, too. It’s like the vibrations of her moans pulls more cum out my fucking dick.
A mess I made on her face, but the joyful lust I see in her eyes tells me she doesn’t give a damn.
Good, because I’m not finished with her.
“All fours on the bed. Now,” I demanded. “Still gotta fill up your pussy.”
Perfection is what I think when I see Y/N from behind, arched back, ass in the air and pussy dripping, ready for me to fuck.
I force an arch in her back and plunge my cock in her tight little pussy with one deep stroke. Y/N gasps in the air and I take the opportunity to pull her up by the throat and start pounding her cunt.
Why the fuck is she so goddamn wet? She takes cock well, bud shit, I abruptly slip out each and every thrust.
“Keep me inside that pussy, baby girl. Stop fucking letting go,” I gritted in her ear. She reaches behind her to hold my dick and push back into me with a tighter grip. “Hm, just like that. So fucking good to me, aren’t you?”
“I need more dick, TJ. Fuck me harder, baby. I can take you,” she moans.
Begging for cock she’s already paying for… Shit, I get a kick out of how pathetically sexy she sounds.
I repeatedly slammed into her wet cunt, thrust after thrust, pussy creaming even further than before. If it’s one thing I can listen to for the rest of my life, it’s how Y/N sounds when she’s being fucked.
My name drips perfectly from her lips.
Our skin smacking fills the air in the room along my hand striking her ass until I guarantee it’ll bruise in the morning.
“Look at this fat ass moving when I pound into this pussy. Fucking beautiful,” I growled.
“Toji, please. I… I don’t care how much… I’ll pay more. Just keep fucking me like this.”
I chuckle. “Atta girl.”
I see why motherfuckers catch feelings when fucking pussy. I almost feel tempted to tell Y/N that I love her while fucking her. She has pussy that’ll make a fucker crazy… Possessive… Jealous.
I applied more pressure to Y/N’s throat and pulled her against my chest. “You know who this pussy belongs to. Right, princess?”
“God, yes, Toji. You… it belongs to you.” Her voice comes off as a faint cry and I know she’s on the verge of cumming. Especially with how her pussy is pulsating around me.
“Mhm, that’s right. Dreamed of my fucking dick pounding this tight little cunt, now I have you mindfucked. Huh?” I pinch her nipples with my free hand and increase my thrusts. “You’re about to come for me. Aren’t you, Y/N? I know you are. I can feel it. You should see the mess your slutty pussy is making between us.”
“Fuck, I didn’t mean to, baby. It’s just… you feel good. So fucking good,” she whimpers, bouncing her ass back into me to meet with my thrusts.
“Maybe I should have you clean it with your mouth. Hm?”
I release Y/N’s throat to shove her face into the bed and deepen her arch more than before. My single hand returns to her hips to grip, pulling her round ass back on my cock to kiss her center.
Can’t get over how wet—how tight and warm this fucking pussy is. The harder I fuck her, the louder her pussy gets and I grunt, curse underneath my breath at hearing the sound of her muffled moans.
I don’t give a fuck if one of us catches feelings after this. Actually, I want her to. I want Y/N to be dick hungry only for me.
I want her pussy to smell like I’m the only fucker that’s been running through her. I’m even fucking tempted to breed this pussy just so she’s mine.
Why the fuck would I want to have sex with any other women after knowing what Y/N feels like?
“You take cock like a fucking pro. Look at you gripping me. Look at how this pussy is mine.”
She spreads her ass cheeks to feel every inch of my dick. “Fuck me, Toji. Harder. Fuck me harder, I’m about to cum.”
“Shit, me too, sweetheart. Such a perfect fuck toy. Going to fill you all the way up,” I rasped. “Fuck me back. Keep taking this dick.”
My thrusts are sloppy. I throw my head back and swear into the air and moan her name. My balls grow heavier and heavier until I fucking but and empty my cum inside her pussy.
And she’s right there with me, crying my name and thanking me for giving her toe-curling orgasm.
Fucking enjoy hearing my pretty girl thank me for giving her cock. She just looks so damn pretty when she cums, too.
Dark brown skin sweating. The sight of her ruined makeup with mascara running down her cheeks. Moans sounding like a broken record.
“It’s twenty thousand yen now,” you puff a ring of smoke to his scrunched up face.
“What the fuck? It was only ten thousand last time. Are you trying to fuck with me?” Sukuna clicked his tongue and looked away, trying his best to contain his frustration.
“Supply is getting expensive and I’ve got bills to pay,” you sighed.
“I don’t got enough on me right now,” he dug his hands into his pockets. “Can’t you give me a discount, doll? I’m a loyal customer.”
Doll. Did he really think he could sweet-talk his way out of this?
“No.”
“Come on,” Sukuna moved closer, placing his hand on the side of your arm and running them up and down. “Ten thousand and a little something else.”
You laughed. “What could that possibly be?”
Despite your desire for money, there were other things you desperately wanted. You were searching for a different kind of high no other drug could give you.
Sukuna’s face was now buried between your thighs while you were seated on the back seat of his car. His tongue aggressively swiped your folds, licking every droplet of your sweet juice. He was attached to your the same way a bee would be attached to a flower, drinking up the nectar until it was full; except, he was never full. He knew no limits.
If there was one thing Sukuna was known for, it was his appetite. He wasn’t just a foodie, he was also a munch. He ate you out like a starved man. He would nip and suck on your aching clit, leaving you shaking and breathless. Your hands gripped his messy pink hair and tugged on them while his name dripped out of your mouth along with some breathy moans.
You were so overwhelmed with pleasure, you felt your legs grow weak. You tried to close them, but Sukuna would force them open again. Every time you’d move, he’d stop and bite on the plump flesh of your thigh, leaving red teeth marks on them.
“So close to cumming,” you panted, drool running down your lip.
Sukuna smirked and wiped the spit off the corner of your lip. “Guess you didn’t need the other ten thousand after all.”
“Shut up. I’m charging you more next time.”
“Sure you will,” he rolled his eyes and chuckled.
His pace had quickened, and he put more pressure onto your poor clit. He kept licking and sucking, your juice smeared all over the bottom half of his face. His hands were firmly planted on your thighs, gripping them so tight his nails started digging into your skin. Your eyes were shut as you felt your climax coming, a warm and tight feeling swirled around your stomach and you couldn’t stop your legs from shaking. Sukuna groaned against your core, his tongue quickly working its way around your pussy.
“Fuck, ‘Kuna. Can’t hold it anymore.”
“Just cum on my face, pretty girl.”
Sukuna pushed his face deeper, his nose slightly nudging you while he continued to drag his tongue across your pussy. You moaned and squirmed as you reached your high, making a mess on Sukuna’s pretty face, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“I’m looking forward to our next deal,” Sukuna winked at you and slipped another roll of cash into your pocket.
๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ summary if y/n's husband isn’t at home keeping her entertained, maybe geto suguru will.
๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ content warnings black woman who uses she/her pronouns. plus size!reader. cheaterwife!reader. pervert!suguru. crazy!suguru. this part one of a miniseries that i advise you to stay tune for. modern au told in first/dual POV. usage of profanity, a mixture praise and degradation, public and protected sex, overstimulation, VERY descriptive sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, cowgirl position, standing missionary position, fingering, squirting, creampie, masturbating, terms of endearment— angel, sweets, pretty girl, baby, princess, etc. suguru is very possessive. depictions of obsession, violence (blood and weapons) and stalking. think of this as a dark romance, but all sexual activities are consensual. reader is also a cougar (she’s thirty-five, suguru is twenty-seven) will this be an OOC suguru? maybe idk, you tell me.
๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ author's note hello to my fellow readers. if you're already familiar with this story, thank you for supporting. but still thank you if you're new and still supporting. just a friendly reminder that this story will include dark content as mentioned above, but it's not TOO dark. i hope you enjoy. thank you for @chosoist for making my header. don't ask her to make you one, im her personal client! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) i don't do tags, so please don't ask to be tagged. also AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS OR MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT.
support me by reblogging , liking, and commenting your thoughts. ♡⸜(ˆᗜˆ˵ )⸝♡
a little informational guide on trying to find skintones from 3d refs :)
i know that finding skintones from 3d characters is tricky and can result in accidental whitewashing and this isnt to make fun of those ppl! this is simply to inform and help other artists out :)
Is it possible to love a character more than you already do? SOBBING because so many intricate details important for Sukuna's characterization gets lost in translation and lightning is an amazing person for bringing this to our attention (go follow them on their platforms ;_; They deserve it so much)
Sukuna's use of words are honestly so poetic and romantic, there is a certain grace and elegance with the way he presents himself, no doubt like a king. It may seem like he's a hot-headed maniac, but he's clever, cunning and intelligent. He knows when to let loose and when to reign himself in.
"You cleared my skies" I would literally melt at the spot, :') aaahhh I'm glad both of them ended up acknowledging one another, this really hits you right in the feels.
୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. satoru gojo + breeding. thirty days until you become queen, thirty days to get married and thirty days to stop sneaking around with the man trying to steal your crown… (5.2K)
୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, royalty!au, enemies to lovers (?), forbidden romance, infidelity and cheating, spit kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, pregnancy kink, breast play, agoraphilia, baby trapping, oral sex (f!recieving), unprotected sex, princess + fem!reader, lord!satoru gojo.
୨୧ — director’s note. woo happy spooky season my loves. welcome back to another tteokdoroki kinktober! im excited for you to see whats in store this year, hope you enjoy this fic to start off mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧
you have thirty days to get married.
being from a small town, somewhere that’s not even on the map — you never expected your family name to carry much meaning aside from the one you carved out for yourself. let alone expect your name to come from royalty.
if you thought discovering how to be a teenager at sixteen was hard, then try discovering how to be a princess at sixteen on for size. everything you’ve ever done since finding out you were royalty has been for your family. you’ve kept your head down, out of the spotlight aside for the occasional appearance and charitable events. you’ve studied hard, double-majoring in international relations alongside political science and diplomacy.
you’ve prepared yourself thoroughly enough to feel ready to take the mantle of queen — especially with your grandmother planning to step down. all of your accomplishments have been leading up to this very moment — it’s so close that you can practically feel the weight of the crown on your head.
except there’s one itty, bitty, little problem.
you still have to get married in thirty days. otherwise, your family title will be poached from right beneath your nose.
satoru gojo (aka public enemy number one) is the nephew of a member of parliament who just so conveniently knows genovian law better than your grandmother does. since satoru came of age before you did, and he’s lived in genovia for longer than you have, and has some random distant relative in connection to the first king — the men of parliament have decided that he too is in line for the throne.
especially if you, the princess, do not marry before your coronation.
how ridiculous is that?
and not only is this satoru gojo an evil, conniving, crown-stealing bastard. but he’s charming, a silver tongue wrapped around each and every one of his words. charming, like a prince (blegh) he’s also stupidly attractive. with deep sapphire blue eyes that are gorgeous enough to make the crown jewellers weak in the knees and a smile so sweet it feels like a sugar rush whenever he looks at you. there’s something so unique about the frostiness to his soft white hair, matching his unfairly long lashes — the ones you know girls back home would kill for.
it angers you to know that you’d been dancing with your rival at your welcome ball, pains you to know that you’ll never forget his slender fingers splayed out against the small of your back to guide your every movement. if you had been back in college (and had a few litres of hard liquor in your system), perhaps gojo would have been the type of guy you’d have snuck into the dorms for a night of fun and an NDA in the morning — your secret signed away from the paparazzi’s keen eyes.
alas, these are very different circumstances and there’s a lot riding on you being sensible about the situation. yet, satoru proves himself to be a problem every chance that he gets — cornering you in closets with his breath hot against your ear, trapping you against the walls while the ghost of his touch feels like heaven against your skin… on the staircase too, insistent on reminding you of the passionate dance you once shared.
all while you’re set to marry the duke of another country so you can keep your fucking crown (pardon the language, your highness).
suguru geto would be the perfect king consort if you managed not to mess this up. he is warm, where satoru is a flip between disastrously hot and frustratingly cold. he balances you out, a mellowness to your clumsiness whilst understanding your need for a rushed proposal and wedding. raised a gentleman, suguru is mindful of you in every action he takes. he doesn’t stare too long but smiles when you think he’s not looking and he’s a wonder with your grandmother — the parents, too. his family gem (a serpentine, making you feel much like a snake) sits heavy on your ring finger, dazzling under camera flashes at your engagement dinner…. and he recognises duty and honour above anything else too.
if satoru is your enemy, then guilt is your friend. no matter what either of the men in your life do, you find yourself comparing their every move. when you’re with suguru your mind is away chasing the fairies, imagining the touch of another man who sets your heart alight in a cool blaze — like gasoline trickling through your veins waiting for its candle match. when you’re with satoru, all you can think about is how wrong this is. how geto doesn’t deserve this. but you’re an addict without a cure, and your drug is satoru gojo and you don’t see yourself ever quitting him.
you're in desperate need of a wake up call and a nicotine patch, the cocky yet lecherous air about him almost acting like a smog in your healthy and capable lungs. sometimes through the fog, you wonder if satoru knows how much he weighs heavy on your mind— though if he did, you’d never hear the end of it.
the current queen tells you not to worry about the white haired man that’s slowly freezing over the four chambers of your heart. you tell yourself that suguru geto is the only man that you need, one that could help you rule and create a beautiful and better kingdom for many years to come. geto tells you that he loves you, that he can’t wait to marry you in two or three weeks time and you respond with equal (yet, faux) excitement.
perhaps that’s why you find yourself sneaking away from this respectful, loving man to be with the one trying to ruin your life?
why are you following satoru gojo deep into the royal gardens, where the rose bushes are the only witness to your sick and twisted sins?
your back hits the jagged pattern of tree bark before your brain can catch up — causing a little wet whimper to bubble up on your pinky-peach tainted lips. the flutter of pain just beneath your skin only lasts for a second before it’s replaced by the sensation of satoru’s fingers traversing up the dips and curves of your body. he soothes you where it hurts the most, rough fingertips leaving bruising marks made with affection along your thighs and small of your back while he swallows your sweet gasps — licking into the wet cavern of your mouth to taste you.
“you’re not even…” his words spill into you, adding fuel to the spark of lust beginning to form a pit in your stomach. “you’re not even attracted to him,” he spews, surging forward like a storm knocking on your door to press his greedy spit slicked lips to yours. his tongue, syrupy and wet, intertwined with your own, filling you up and giving you something to suck on.
before you can even think of kissing your rival back, he retreats and takes his swollen lips with him — latching onto your neck and weaponizing his teeth against it. you gasp, your angel’s song tipping out into the rose garden while your fingers tangle in silver-moon locks and let him work against you, claiming you just below the neckline of your dress where no one will be able to see.
except for maybe your fiancé and only god knows how you’ll be able to explain the marks to him tonight. ‘oh you know me, suguru. i’m way too clumsy for my own good.’ you’ll say, all while thinking about how the man after your crown blew your back out at your engagement party.
you know why satoru’s acting such a fool — taking risks that he wouldn’t normally. the dress you’re wearing, the colour of his eyes, drives him fucking insane. you can’t say that you didn’t ask for this, like it wasn’t on purpose.
“can’t fucking stand you,” gojo groans against your skin, nose pressed to your collarbone as he inhales the candied notes of your perfume. “been giving me those angel eyes all day. knowing that i can’t take my fucking eyes off of you when you wear that colour, princess.”
he’s insufferable, but here you find yourself at the mercy of his touch — offering up your body to satoru gojo like a sacrificial lamb as your back arches away from the tree and presses your chest into his eager strawberry tongue. it leaves a slimy track over your neck and dips between the cleavage of your dress while gojo makes his descent down to hell — tasting the shimmering crystals of salt on your skin.
satoru gojo belongs on his knees.
kneeling before you with the royal blue tule of your dress between his shaking hands. you can tell he’s trying not to rip it off of you. born to worship you. mirth weighs down his lashes and desire dances between the navy blue flecks in his sapphire eyes — he needs you so bad it might kill him. from this position he can practically smell how turned on you are, he’d recognise the mouth-watering aroma of your drooling cunt anywhere, slick gathering in the crotch of your barely there panties.
there’s a depraved, royal treasure hidden between the string of fabric that runs between your juicy pussy lips — swollen and waiting to be devoured by your enemy. not that you’d ever admit that to him. “i think you should be referring to me as your queen.” you manage between ragged breaths, satoru eyeing the way your chest heaves from beneath the bust of your dress.
instead of responding, his head unceremoniously dips beneath your skirts and he drags a thigh over the width of his broad shoulders. “watch your mouth,” the lord purrs salaciously as he licks up your inner thigh, the vibrations shooting straight to your swollen clit. “let’s remind you of who’s really in charge.” the both of you feel it, the aching throb of your pussy against gojo’s lips as he wedges his face right between your thighs. you can’t help but grind against him in wanton, desperate to be filled up with fingers, tongue whatever your sworn enemy has to offer up to the crown.
but your warmth and wetness does nothing to coax satoru into tongue fucking his way past your clenching, creaming entrance. rather, he draws his head back just a touch and rubs at your cunt like he loves you, dips his fingers just into your quivering hole and then — smack !
juices run down satoru’s arms as if he’s taken a bite into the fruit that tempted eve while he laughs in awe of just how fucking sloppy you are between your thighs. the spank to your puffy folds makes you jolt in surprise, causing you to scratch your back against the jagged tree bark.
“gojo!” you squeak in warning as your thighs close around his veiny hand.
he sticks his tongue into his cheek, smirking in amusement before prying your shaky legs apart. “that’s not quite right, try again for me, princess...” gojo repeats the process, running between your slick folds and spanking you against them when you fail to respond. “you know my name, baby. c’mon it’s easy, i’ll even say it with you. d…d…”
you refuse to stoop so low, to let demeaning words escape from underneath your tongue but not having satoru’s mouth on you is like torture — just his breath against your cunt is akin to dangling a carrot in front of a starving horse. you know what that pleasure is like, you crave it and you’re not above begging no matter how royal you may be.
“f-fuck, daddy!” you whinge defiantly, screwing your eyes shut and letting your head fall back against the tree. satoru wastes no more time then, slotting his hot mouth against the entire length of your silken slit. the first thing he does is moan, the vibrations shooting twinges of ecstasy from your clit through the rest of your body and even reaching your head — making the world around you spin.
the tip of his tongue teases its way past your entrance, squirming around to brush up against pleasure spots your little fingers can’t even reach. “that’s right princess, knew you could do it. you’re not just some stuck up little girl.” the white haired lord praises, drawing back from your quivering hole — connected to you by a string of your glistening slick.
“shut up, just… put your mouth to good use.” you grunt, your hips canterint down onto gojo’s face to keep him quiet. your fingers take root in his silvery moon locks, dragging the man and his pink tongue onto your sex once more. gojo takes the hint, making your cute little clit his next victim as he rolls it between perfect rows of pearly whites and sends your eyes into the dark depths of your skull.
the sinful and salacious sensation provides a welcomed distraction from your responsibilities as the crown princess. if your grandmother could see you now, you know that all she’d feel is disappointment— especially if she knew her granddaughter was fucking the biggest threat to the crown. and suguru, your poor fiancé — he was probably stuck mingling with guests he didn’t even know, looking for your eyes in the crowd like he always did.
shame should be burning through your veins, not the white hot trickle of desire that you’re filled with as satoru slurps your juices from between your fat pussy lips. the needy groans he lets out against you inch down your spine, drown you in stormy waves of lust and you find yourself addicted to the bob of gojo’s head from underneath your tule skirts. you’re just so wet, pouring the royal family’s riches, liquid gold straight into the man’s greedy mouth as he drinks you in.
your nectar glazes his cheeks and chin in a devilish shine, brighter than the crown set to sit atop your head — his mouth barely parts from your ravaged and swollen romping as if he’s married to eating you out, tongue licking you up and down before your juices even have a chance to drip to the ground. you can only imagine what would happen if the press found out, your life would be over and so would satoru’s. but you don’t care, because every second that gojo spends between your thighs dragging you to orgasm is worth it. every single time.
he grips at your ass, pulling you back onto his tongue as it flickers in and out of you. the whole ordeal is disgusting and delightful and you never want it to end. pleasure mounts high within you, evident in the shakiness of your gripes and grouses, lust laden in its tune.
“s-satoru…satoru. i’m gonna… g’na fuckin’ cum!” a high pitch squeal tears in your throat like music to gojo’s ears — now working relentlessly to get you off just like you need. he doesn’t care if he’s suffocating, at least he’ll die a happy man between the thighs of a princess.
he chuckles against your sex. “such a dirty mouth for such a proper lady.” the lord says as if he’s a scolding you.
but you can barely hear him, for static rings in your ears as your body loses the war to your orgasm. your release bubbles up on his tongue like the fresh pop of champagne, while your brain fizzles and clears itself of all logical thought. guilt is replaced by bouts of lust, making you realise that this cycle of avoiding and fucking gojo will never end. you’re too addicted to him and he’s too obsessed with you, as long as things remain that way — sex with him will always be on the agenda.
you can’t promise yourself, your grandmother or suguru that this will be the last time.
dopamine dances across gojo’s brain as he drinks in the tangy-honey flavour of your release, letting it splatter against his puffy lips as they encircle your clit to prolong your orgasm. you gush as if you’re a rushing erotic river, spilling into satoru’s earnest mouth while he licks you clean with wanton.
“look at that… oh look at you. cumming for me already.”
“f-fuck you.”
“fuck me?” he smirks, making your gut lurch with wanton. “fuck you. i’m the one that’s working on it, princess.” satoru slowly rises to his feet, licking a nasty spit-slicked trail from your hole to the cleavage peeking out from underneath your dress. he doesn’t even stand to his full height, his large frame towering over you as he yanks down the front of your dress to lick and suck and play with your breasts until you can’t tell what’s up or down anymore.
his perfect teeth graze a pert nipple which makes you gasp and cry, loosely looping your arms around satoru’s neck while his ravaging mouth works your sensitive breasts, even going as far to swipe his tongue over the spot where each one meets your ribcage. he doesn’t leave any marks, you’re not his to keep. large and rough hands replace the warmth of his mouth on you to toy with your mounds of flesh — pinching and pulling as satoru kisses you senseless. you groan at the taste of your slick on his tongue and salt of your skin as well, tugging him closer so that there’s no space between your heated bodies.
“don’t cry,” satoru comments softly against your swollen, cherry-bitten lips — cupping your face between his fingers. blinking slowly, you allow your frenzied brain the chance to catch up to reality and you don’t realise the tears that wet your cheeks until he points them out. why are you even crying? “you’re too pretty for that.” his compliments do nothing to clear the lustful, confused fog settling over your mind like a dark cloud so you follow your body’s instincts and reach for the metal clasp on his belt.
nimble fingers make their way down the front of gojo’s dress pants and he hisses at the quick pumps of his perfectly hard cock before you’re dragging up your skirts and guiding him towards your entrance. “baby, wait—“
you push his pants down enough to let his erection spring free, pulsing with need and standing at full mast against the cotton blouse covering his tummy. “i need you.” you sniff, dropping your panties to your ankles. “please.”
the thing about sex with satoru is that it never feels like just sex. he tenderly hikes the meat of your thigh over his slender hips, lets his dribbly, sticky cockhead twitch forward and ease past the salaciously slick barriers of your empty hole, and presses your bodies so close together that you think you might forget how to breathe. satoru makes love to you each and every time — and it’s terrible.
like eating too much sugar or indulging in a bad smoking habit. you’re not supposed to be in love with him and the way he fucks up into you, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis even with all of the fabric in the way. “don’t cry for him, f-fuck,” the both of you look down, your pupils dilating at the sight of your pussy swallowing his lengthy shaft whole — catching on the ridges of each blue vein spiralling around him. “cry for me, princess. i’m the one that’s ruining you.”
with his forehead pressed to yours, silver hair matted down by the line of perspiration against it — satoru braces a hand against the tree above your head and sets stream to his passionate thrusts, fluid like water under a bridge. it’s not fair, how wrong this is and how good it feels to have gojo lick over the parts of you he would bite down on if you were his. your pulse point, your neck, the spot just under your ear that’s way too sensitive for your own good. it should be suguru fucking you like this, your fiancé.
yet, there’s no room for self-loathing and despair between the rough tree and satoru gojo above you. nothing aside for the thick curtain of lust that protects you from prying eyes in the rose garden, floral scents twisting with the raw, aphrodisiac-like smell of sex and sweat while he pounds away at your swollen pussy, grinding his cock wetly against the sweet spots dotted along your ribbed walls.
“i should put a baby in you,” he says suddenly, just barely audible over the wet pap, pap, pap of your sexes working together. embarrassment burns bright under the surface of your cheeks because you’re that wet and it’s that loud, the remainders of your previous orgasm making it easier for satoru’s cock to glide in and out of you. “leave you with a little gift. a present — reminder of our time together, yeah?” he knows that he’s not making any sense, leaving his confession behind sex and sultry words. he would never admit to how much he loves you, he’s already ruined you enough. he’s already taken more than enough from you too. “i’ll get to the crown either fuckin’ way.”
satoru talks with his dick and you fucking like it, squeezing the damn daylights out of him. he can barely pull back with you locked down on like that, his seedy tip snug between your ruined folds — clinging into him by viscous ropes of your last orgasm and freshly formed globs of his white hot precum. “you like that, don’t you princess?” he coos down to you condescendingly, picking up the pace of his hips as he rams into you mercilessly. the tree shakes from the force, sprinkling pretty and innocent petals over you both. “you wanna make me a daddy? my queen? give me a little prince or princess.”
“fuck yes, satoru!” nodding your head with wanton, you press yourself into his neck and squeeze him close by the ass cheeks so the only place your lover can go is deeper. you want to be able to feel him in your guts, hot in your womb like an iron rod — anything to forget the trickle of betrayal filling you up like a glass of wine. “i want it, i want it…i want—“
you cut yourself of with an abrasive sob, as you moan your agreements. i want you. you feel the words on the tip of your tongue, drowned out by the slippery sounds of sex and creaking tree trunk. you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you’ve wanted satoru gojo.
but he’s the wrong person, in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
“i know you do, i know,” you can feel gojo move to slobber over your chest, pacifying his whistle tone whimpers with your nipples bouncing in his mouth. he looks up at you with vacant cerulean eyes that shimmer like the skies above, the crude mix of your arousals slinging at the point at which your bodies join. “tell me how much you love daddy’s cock, princess.”
he goads because he craves your attention. satoru can feel you slipping from between his fingers, the guilt that rolls off of you in waves as he languidly rams into your cunt. he’s asking a lot of someone who’s too stimulated, too fucked out to speak — your tongue barely staying in your mouth.
“sato—!”
“c’mon… answer me, fuck, there we go.”
that’s when he hikes you up in his arms, lifting you a little to feverishly thrust up into you — dragging you closer to another high. your nails dig deep into his taut ass, nudging his dick against your g-spot. suguru would never be this rough with you, would never want to fuck you so good that the pleasure hurts.
shaking your head, your eyes glisten but the denial doesn’t stop small streams of arousal from squirting out and webbing against gojo’s soft pubes. “i-i can’t! i don’t—“ satoru bites down on your nipple, hard, cutting through your train of blurry thought. “i love…h-him!”
you love your fiancé, but you both know that’s a lie.
“yeah, sure you do. that’s why your pussy’s huggin’ my cock so tight. you don’t wanna let me go, baby.” even while he’s a mess for you, your rival still finds it in him to be such an egotistical prick. you can’t even tell him that he’s wrong, because you never ever want to be without satoru, without this immensely overwhelming feeling of ecstasy fluttering through your entire body. it’s all too much, he’s too much, stretching you wide and filling you with the love (and cum) you should be getting from suguru.
thunder cracks above your head, lightning flashes through the trees as if the higher power up above is bearing witness — growing distraught at your sins. it’s not long before the heavens open up on you both and your sweaty, sex slicked bodies are doused in rain. but it doesn’t stop you, doesn’t stop satoru from dragging down your bottom lip to lovingly spit into your mouth.
he kisses you as if it’s not enough, rocking his hips into you so he can bully your insides and mark them with his pre. “bet he’s lookin’ for you right now, hm? his precious wife to be…drenched in my cum ‘n drenched in the rain.” satoru heaves, letting the patter of the rain drown out the sound of his tightening balls slapping against your ass. “bet he wishes he could fuck you like i do.”
you can’t tell if it’s the tears of guilt and longing or the rain that blurs your vision. “h-he doesn’t get to!” you cry like a dirty porn-star, hardly becoming of a soon to be queen. “o-only you!”
“only me, hm? i’m flattered.” he seems elated, hiding his flushed face and happy smile in the junction between your neck and shoulder. his wet hair tickles your skin. “too bad he doesn’t know his princess comes used and abused between her pretty legs, huh?”
the rain is cold against your skin, seeping through your clothes, ruining your makeup — but the way satoru licks up your hot streaky tears and the droplets of water against your skin as if to sooth you… the way he does it fills you with warmth.
your limbs become heavy from your water-logged clothes and exhaustion, your whole body slumped against satoru’s strength but you still manage to rake your nails down his back as if you can’t be any closer. gojo doesn’t let your hips run from his either. his mind races, stuck on the idea of asking you to run away with him because he can’t just let you go back to geto. not again.
he can’t let you marry someone you’re not in love with.
it would be selfish of him to ask you to stay, even when you wrap your legs around him and have him plug up your tiny little hole with sticky white. he sees it in your eyes how much you care for him, even through the rain. he’s ruining you, from the inside out, knocking the crown from your head and he hates it.
“daddy loves this pussy,” he wishes for the moment to last forever, but you’re already so close — crying from every hole, suffocating his throbbing cock. neither of you can hold back. “he loves you. i love you.”
the confession nearly tears your world in two — but it’s all you need to hear before everything comes crashing down on you. “i-i love you!” you tell him, wailing the words loud and proud as you release on him for a second time, gushing obscene amounts against gojo’s tummy smooshed up on your clit. “sato—! satoru! cum with me, cum inside me!” scratching down his back and screwing your eyes shut, you tilt your head up to capture his lips in a passionate kiss.
the taste of salt on your cupid’s bow throws gojo over the edge too — his cockhead pours viscous white directly into your womb. “fuuuck, you’re so good princess…” and even though you know you should tell him to pull out, you don’t want him too. you want his baby, want his cum, want him always. even if that’s greedy of you.“fuckin’ take it…take all of me. all of that cum’s for you.” he slurs, beyond brainless.
lewd clapping noises echo between your bodies like the thunder up above as satoru fucks you through the rest of your highs, nose nudging your cheeks tenderly to soothe your tears. moaning, and crying against one another’s swollen lip. when his slow grinds come to a stop and your breathing recovers, the white haired lord gently sets you back in the ground — tenderly helping you to fix your drenched clothes back into place.
your thighs are completely bruised and his back is completely torn up. the last marks you’ll ever leave with each other.
“so about—“
“we… we can’t do this anymore, satoru.” you say almost immediately, shaky as if you’re in the verge of panic.
for the first time since you started doing this, sneaking off with one another, gojo notices the glint on your ring finger. and you feel the very same weight of that ring.
he shrugs you off, pulling up his pants and smirking. “that’s what you said last time—
“no satoru, i mean it now. we can’t.” it’s like you’ve come to your senses, realised the gravity of it all and what’s at stake. thirty days to get married, thirty days to become queen. “i’m going to become queen, your queen, in a matter of weeks and to do that i need to be married to him. i can’t mess this up. we have to stop.”
“but you don’t even want him,” he growls like a petulant child, roaring above the rain that cascades down on you both. “you want me. i want you. who gives a fuck about anything else?”
“duty gives a fuck! i have to marry him!”
throwing his hands up in defeat, satoru steps towards you, loud and intimidating, and you step back towards the tree. “you can’t even say his fucking name.”
“his name is suguru geto and i will marry him because you forced me to.” you spit, going toe to toe with him — chest heaving but tight from your heart break. “if you and your stupid higher ups had just stayed out my way. maybe there could have been a chance for us. but they didn’t and here we are and duty freaking calls, gojo.”
you storm off shortly after, be before he can see you cry again (for real this time). from his place hidden in the royal gardens, gojo watches sullenly as you approach your grandmother and fiancé — the elder queen disappointed in your current state and suguru clearly worried that the rain might make you catch a cold.
the perfect alibi to cover up the fact that you’d just fucked satoru gojo.
but the entire time, you never look back.
you don’t even look at gojo — and that’s how he knows you meant it. you always look back, always look for him in the crowd.
the knowledge hits him like a strike of lightning. he’s royally fucked up — you’re marrying for the crown, all because of him. and there’s no room for loving when you’ve got the weight of the nation on your shoulders.
—cw: fem!reader, diabetes worth fluff, soft and protective dads, megumi, tsumiki as yours and toji's kids, mention of childhood trauma in geto's, dad jokes, not proofread
—a/n: I hope you shed a tear and laugh out loud. Don't let this flop. I actually wrote all of these from my personal emotions and experiences :)) Reblogs appreciated.
#mlist #art commissions #taglist
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ TELL ME WHO WAS YOUR FAVORITE DAD!!! ༊*·˚
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 .ೃ࿐
All these jjk women clowning gojo makes me think his daughter roasts him at every chance she gets. It's not even on purpose. It's just wise words out of a child's mouth.
"Hana-chan~" he calls her in a sugar laced tone. "How do I look in this?" Satoru pointed towards the awful shirt he was wearing. The outfit was all over the place. It was so bad that even your five year old could tell it.
"Papa's good at fighting, not fashion." His jaw immediately dropped and he could hear you trying to control your laugh.
He knelt so he could be a little more "Hana-chan, don't be mean to papa. It's making me cry."
"She's not being mean, baby. Just telling the truth. I'll divorce you if you wear that one more time," you stated, walking towards both of them.
"Oh yeah," he picks the five year old in his embrace, "I'd fight your lawyer. Daddy's the strongest. Right, hana-chan?"
"But you lost the argument to mama las' night." It was amazing how she can sounds so sweet while ripping your husband apart. You finalky laughed out loud because you just couldn't control it.
You would expect Toru to put up an argument at times like this but he just giggles, and squeezes you both in a tight hug.
Yeah. He might be the strongest, but he'd always loose to his two girls.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 .ೃ࿐
Your four year old and seven year old were determined to surprise their daddy for father's day. Toji never credits himself. He does so much, but expects nothing back. The thought of "what my kids might gift me for father's day" doesn't even strike up his mind. He goes out and sees all the decorations on the stores with big glittered alphabets spelling "happy father's day" that's how he comes to know about it. Yet, the man wouldn't expect anything. He knows you three love him. He just doesn't want anything in return. His love doesn't come at a price for you all to pay. So when he came home to utensils clanking to the ground, he was worried.
"Oné-san, no. That's not how I wanted yout two write," megumi complained.
"Megumi, I am older. I know what to do." They both were trying to dominate each other on what to write on the cake. When they heard Toji's footsteps, the little boy pushed you towards the kitchen entrance.
"Mama, don't let papa come in now." You were laughing as you get kicked out of your own kitchen.
"Hey, sweetheart. I heard some noise. 's everything alright?" Toji gave you a quick peck after the question.
"Oh? Oh that yeah! Everything's fine. I just dropped the pan."
"Are ya hurt?" His eyes look completely concerned.
"Uh hun, I am fi—" before you could complete the sentence, your two cute munchkins came squealing, holding the little cake with small hands.
You moves your figure out of the way so your man can see what his kids made for him.
"Happy father's day, papa." The both wishes him with a hearty smile. Toji was surprised. His heart suddenly warmed up to the feeling of the view in front of him. His two babies with flour patches on their tees, tsumiki's messy bun and megumi with cream near his lips, confirming he must've snuck in a taste when his sister was looking away. He wanted to cry.
You looked down and noticed there was a spelling mistake with the word "world" on the cake which was supposed to spell "to best daddy in the world"
"Gumi, Tsumiki, there's a mis—" Toji looked at you and shaked his head, speaking with his looks, telling you to not say it. He did notice it, but he didn't care about the mistake. All he wanted now was to gobble down the cake that his babies made. He pat them both on the hair, ruffled their hair. "Thank you, little bears. Lesgo' enjoy this and then papa will take you and mama to the game world you like."
With the way he is looking at them, you're sure he'd eat that cake even if it was poison.
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 .ೃ࿐
Geto didn't think he'll ever have kids, but when he was gifted with twin girls, he claims he is the luckiest person alive ever since.
He loves spoiling his little girls. He takes them shopping, pampers them all the time, helps them learn their nursery rhymes. If they ever were to grow up being too bratty, you are prepared to blame him because he never scolds them. He would dare not to. But that is the thing about kids. You don't yell at them. You don't have to be so harsh. You just have to ease it in and make them understand how their wrongdoings can affect others, hurt others as well as themselves.
Something always triggered inside you when you saw him being soft with Rumi and Arohi. You wished you were treated that way in your childhood. You only thought about them being bratty if not yelled, because that's what your childhood was like.
You were working on some documents, when you heard the door unlocking. Rumi and Arohi walked in with their pink bunny bags on their back.
"Mama, we're home!!" they squealed and ran into your arms, as you quickly set the files aside.
"Aww, seems like you had fun without mama. Where's your dad?"
"There." They pointed at the 3 foot box with legs on the door.
"AH! OH MY GOD. Who are you? How did you get in?" Your mother instincts hid the girls behind your back, as you tried to find something to hit the man with.
"Y/N, NO. IT'S ME," the box monster yelled. He moved his head revealing his fox eyes and you could recognize him.
"Suguru? Oh dear."
"A little help please," his voice felt struggled. You quickly sprinted towards the door, and helped him trying to get the box on the floor only two reaveal all the bags he had behind him.
"Did you guys buy the whole store? And what's this? A lego set?"
"That's for you, mama," Rumi stated.
"Yes mama, we got it for you. The biggest one in the store," said Arohi, running towards her shopping bag filled with toys.
"Suguru, for me? Why?"
"Darling. I always see you doing so much for us," his palms now cupped your cheek. "It broke my heart when you told me that story when you wanted the lego set but the responsibile daughter in you felt you did nothing to achieve it so why ask for it. Well here you go."
"I still don't understand," you shaked your head.
"Y/n. It's okay to spoil yourself. You don't always have to work hard to give yourself a little love. These things that you wanted were always yours even if all you did was try." Tears started streaming down your eyes. You felt the seven year old girl in you finally smile.
"Rumi-chan. Arohi-chan. Let's play with mama's gift." All three started sabotaging the tapes and lables in the big blue box.
You felt happy to have this family. You know why he's a great father? Because Suguru doesn't care of two kids. He spoils three. Your daughters, and that little girl in you who wished to have all that you do today.
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 .ೃ࿐
A man like nanami will always be a great father. No doubt. But here's one thing you probably don't know about Nanami Kento.
He's a full time salaryman, and part time comedian. Well...probably the worst one because his dad jokes are awful. You wanna know how it started in the first place, right? So it was when you were feeding the two year old the baby food, that you suddenly heard your phone ringing. Kento quicky replaced your place and took over the feeding as you walked towards the hall.
"Aww look at you. Aren't you the cutest baby in the world?" He took the spoon off the alligator cartooned bowl and extended it near her mouth. "Do you want to hear daddy's joke?"
Three mintues later you walked in two the sound of your little girl giggling and laughing. She's never laughed so loud.
"Oh my god. She's laughing."
"Yes. I made her laugh, beloved." Kento looked so happy with the biggest smile.
"Really? What did you do?"
"I said a joke." You luaghed too soon. Was that line a joke because Nanami Kento being comical? No. Impossible.
"I am sorry, baby. It's not true, right?"
"It is. You wanna see? Okay here we go." He moved his head back to harumi. "Harumi, do you know what do you call an alligator in a vest?" Your eyes were hooked on to them.
"An investigator." You couldn't believe your eyes nor your ears. She was really laughing. You chuckled too. Harumi must really loved his dad. Either that, or she has a poor sense of humor like the blonde in fron of her.
Since then, Kento always collects dad jokes like pokemons and records her giggling.
𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 .ೃ࿐
Trust me or not, Sukuna is a great father. I'll tell you why. You don't see his protectiveness? Yeah he doesn't show much care on the surface, but you don't spot how he is always lurking behind you to whoop anyone's ass who tries to hurt his loved ones?
That's how Sukuna is even as a father. He wants his kids to stand up for themselves, but he'd always be having their back. To hold them and catch them if they trip.
"Oh they sure do grow up fast. You blink and they're already in college, y/n," your neighbor laughed with you. It was Akio's fifth birthday party.
"Everything looks great, but... " she scanned around, "don't you think pink theme is too girly for a boy? Especially the flowet tiara on Akio's head.
You were irritated. How dare she say that? Unfortunately for her, Sukuna heard it and quickly walked to you. He kneeled to place the sanrio stickers on Akio's cheeks.
"Yeah so?" Your husband questioned the woman. "Who said pink is for just girls? And even if it was, there wouldn't be anything wrong with Akio liking it." The silence followed made it clear she didn't expect the clapback.
"Plus the tiara makes him look the cutest. Maybe you should try one. It's on the counter. You can surely use..." he eyed her head to toe"...some glow up.
She immediately rushed out of the door with her son and not apparently the counter. You three burst out laughing.
"Ugly Bitch telling my son what he should like."
"KUNA!" you slapped his back for swearing in front of your child.
"What?! Hey, if Akio ever wanted to call her that, I will galdy let it slide. In fact, I'll support him."
He might act like an immature kid sometime, but you know you had kids with the right person when he makes sure his children are raised in healthy environment.
Peter B. Parker thought he'd never see the day Miguel could actually more than tolerate someone.
part i || part ii || part iii
Ever since Peter B. Parker met Miguel O'Hara, he was always kind of difficult, to put it at best. The only spiderman that wasn't funny in better words.
He was snarky, with a permanent snarl on his face, and he seemed allergic to fun altogether.
Well, until there was a new addition to spider society.
It all started during the meeting before your first mission as he was gently balancing Mayday on his hip, still yet to reach for her carrier.
"And then we will all reconvene at these coordinates," Miguel's voice echoed throughout the room, as no one else dared to speak before given the signal to.
"Any questions?"
With that there was chorus of no's accompanied by the percussion of headshakes. And in that a lone hand had shot up into the air.
"Yes, Venom," Miguel gave you a nod, signalling for you to speak.
"Yeah, are you single?" You asked with an obvious teasing tone, making everyone in the room go quiet.
Well except for Mayday who continued to babble in Peter's arms, but no one really minded.
Everyone watched with bated breath, their collective gaze bouncing between you and Miguel. Peter who stood next to you inched a bit closer, just in case he needed to stand between you and the beast.
But he didn't have to.
"You're funny," was all Miguel replied, with no discernible emotion in his voice as he closed the briefing.
"If there aren't any more questions, we'll meet back here in five. Prepare as needed," he ordered, and everyone else scrambled to do as told, despite their shock.
Except for Peter, who couldn't really keep his shock to himself. Especially because he's watched Miguel almost maim a fifteen year old. He didn't even wince as Mayday escaped his arms and crawled up to pull at his hair.
"What the hell was that?" He whisper-yelled to you with wide eyes, making you chuckle.
"What?" You shrugged.
"He's kinda cute."
"That doesn't mean you flirt with him," Peter almost yelled, hands flailing in the air making Mayday laugh.
"I'm surprised he didn't go ballistic on you."
"Well maybe he liked it," you gave a smirk.
"I'm pretty irresistible."
"Unbelievable is more like it," he shook his head, finally snapping out of it enough to take Mayday from his head and place her in the carrier.
That was short-lived however, as Miguel's voice called out your name.
"Stick close to me during this one," he said, taking a few steps towards you and Peter.
"This is your first mission and I want to see what you can do up close."
"Sure boss," you said with a twinkle in your eye.
"And don't worry, I can do a lot of things up close," you added, making Peter freeze again. Especially as Miguel only shook his head and walked away, and you stood there giggling.
"What?"
*****
Shock aside, Peter decided not to think about that interaction that much. As mind boggling as it was, he lived in a world with multiple dimensions.
"Anything can happen," he had mumbled to himself (and Mayday) after the ordeal.
It couldn't happen again.
It did.
"Oooh, what a man," you blew a low whistle as you watched Miguel from behind as he worked.
Another meeting had just ended and you and Peter had lagged behind to wait for Jess who had to use the bathroom.
"If you're gonna talk like that at least say it to his face and not to us," Peter groaned, with his hands moving to Mayday who was strapped to his chest.
He covered her ears, mumbling something about preserving her innocence. He was looking down at her, smiling as she looked up at him.
It was truly a sight to see, a sight only to be broken by your voice.
"Hey Miguel!" Your voice cut through his momentary peace, making him scramble to look at you.
"What are you doing?" He hissed through clenched teeth as Miguel turned around.
"Doing what you said," you responded to him simply, facing Miguel who was now looking at you with an inquisitive brow.
Peter silently prayed that you were joking.
"Miguel, your hair looks amazing today," you gave a sweet smile
The taller man seemed to have stiffened at the compliment, just for a split second. No one would have caught it unless they were really looking. Peter was, and it only added to his utter disbelief.
"Uh, thanks," Miguel gave you a nod, before turning around quickly to get back to his work.
"No problem," you hummed, your smile never faltering. You then turned to Peter who looked like he was having a conniption.
"What the-," he seethed, almost flailing around making Mayday laugh.
"Wha-, ha?" He brought his hands to his hair, giving you an exasperated look.
"What did you think I was gonna say?" You quirked a playful brow, giving him a nudge to the arm.
"Maybe you have something to tell him, Peter," you tsked, shaking your head in faux disapproval.
"What would MJ think?"
Peter was red at this point trying to defend himself.
"I wasn't," he gasped.
"I-, no," he tried pathetically, before giving up with a sigh, almost covered by Mayday's laughter at his theatrics.
"You know what, whatever."
*****
Again, Peter tried to brush it off. He was just getting old, he tried to rationalise. There's no way Mr. "I Hate Kids" didn't mind your little quips.
He was just seeing things, that was all.
But he wasn't.
"Does he always eat alone?" You asked your little group as you all sat down at your usual table in the cafeteria.
"Yeah," Gwen responded, placing her tray down with a sigh.
"We've tried sitting next to him, but he doesn't let us."
"I bet he thinks it's cool," Hobie rolled his eyes as all of you turned your head not so subtly at the man in question.
"It's kind of pathetic."
"It's like he has beef with that empanada," Miles added with a grimace, and everyone nodded in approval.
"I see," you hummed, eyeing the lone man up and down before jolting up your seat.
"What are you doing?" Peter asked, about to stand up as well to stop you from doing anything stupid. He was not having this today, he was about to feed Mayday.
"I'm gonna try sitting next to him," you gave a toothy grin picking up your tray, beginning to walk away.
Finally Peter stood up with arms open to stop.
"You can't just,-" he began, about to grab you. But he was suddenly pulled back down.
"Hey let them," Hobie laughed from beside him, wrapping an arm around him so he couldn't escape.
"I want to see what happens."
Peter wept. Knowing better than to fight Hobie's hold. He'd give him a noogie and he could not handle another headache today. So he just watched you make your way to Miguel's table with everyone else.
You had made it to the corner of the man's table, your back facing them as Miguel looked up at you, seemingly holding on to your every word.
Everyone held their breath at the interaction, only to let it out in a collective gasp.
"No fucking way," Hobie expressed, earning a glare from Peter who moved to cover Mayday's ears. Yet he still looked equally baffled.
Miguel had given you a nod and gestured for you to sit, and that was it.
"Tell me you guys are seeing what I'm seeing," Gwen blinked a few times at the site before her.
"If I did that he would've ripped my head off," Peter watched with wide eyes.
"Maybe they've got powers that we don't have," Miles tries to rationalise.
"Yeah probably," Peter rubbed at his eyes just to make sure he wasn't seeing things.
"That's the only thing that can explain that."
*****
Okay, maybe Miguel had just toned down a little. People can change, they can be better. If he did so can Miguel. And Miguel was just tolerating you a bit more than everyone else, that was it.
It wasn't like he was going out of his way for you.
Right?
"Wow, you look terrible," Peter commented as you walked into the room.
You were team alpha during the last mission, and the bags in your eyes and the slump in your back showed that.
"You're like the third person to tell me that," you groaned, running your hands down your face
"I just wasn't able to grab a coffee this morning," you began to explain, now rubbing at your eyes.
"I slept in and I can't get one right now obviously."
"Well, just hang in there," He tried to comfort you, giving you a firm pat on the back.
"You've been through worse."
"Tell me about it," you cracked your back, before picking up Mayday who was giving you grabby hands from her carrier ever since you arrived.
"At least you still think that I'm pretty, don't you Mayday," you tapped her nose, making her burst out in giggles, only to be silenced as the double doors suddenly opened.
"Look alive people!" Jess had yelled, announcing her and Miguel's arrival.
"Thanks Jess," Miguel had followed up half heartedly, before addressing the half-complete people in the room.
"The debriefing will start in a bit, we're just waiting on a few more people," he said before snidely adding.
"The people that actually need this debrief."
"Dang," Peter expressed, watching Miguel walk out the room again to do whatever he does.
"I'd hate to be Hobie right now."
"Yeah," you agreed, handing him back Mayday.
"That's probably why he isn't here yet."
He agreed. "He's probably not gonna show up."
A minute had passed and you and Peter stood there engaged in mindless chatter. Mindless chatter that was interrupted suddenly by a deep voice.
"This is for you," Miguel said as he returned, a cup of coffee in hand that was brought up to your face between you and Peter.
You blinked at the cup for a moment, and so did Peter before you took it. Gladly, but still surprised.
"Thank you," you said, eyes bouncing between him and the cup.
"But why?"
"Don't think about it," Miguel responded with a click of his tongue.
"I don't need you falling asleep during this meeting," he paused before bringing up a scolding finger.
"And don't think you're off the hook for covering for Pavitr," his eyes seemed to glow red as he said this, and he walked away before you could respond.
"Wow," you trailed off.
"That was weird."
"Tell me about it," Peter nodded, thinking back to the eye roll Miguel gave him when he complained about the coffee machine being broken before.
"Not my problem," he had told him before walking away.
"Wow, how did he know?" Your voice pulled him out of his memories, and he turned to you taking another sip of the coffee.
"It's just how I like it."
*****
At this point Peter had decided to just ignore it. It wasn't any of his business he convinced himself. It was none of his business so he should-
Wait, was that laughter? From Miguel's office?
Peter had arrived at headquarters a little later than usual, and also a little lighter. Mayday had stayed home with MJ today, and as much as he loved his daughter he was glad she wasn't here.
He didn't need to worry about her messing around as he worked, and he didn't have to worry about her hearing what he said as he saw the source of the laughter.
Peter had walked into the room without being noticed, not so shocked at what he was seeing, but rather what he was hearing.
This has been happening a lot lately. You and Miguel standing in a corner having some sort of conversation. He had gotten used to it.
But this was different, you were laughing, and so was Miguel.
Peter stood there for a few minutes, just watching the exchange. Until Miguel looked over and saw him, suddenly stiffening up and trying to hide any indication that he was laughing.
But it was too late, Peter had seen it all. And he also saw the soft smile Miguel gave you before tapping you on the shoulder. He said something Peter was too mind-boggled to pick up on and then you both bid each other goodbye.
You then turned and made your way towards him, with a bit more pep in your step as usual as you skipped across the room.
"Hey Peter! What, no Mayday today?" You greeted with a slight pout as you noticed the absence of the redhead.
But he didn't care, he asked the only thing on his mind.
"What just happened?" He practically squawked, begging you for answers.
You stood there, teetering on your feet, smiling at the ground before you looked at him with your answer.
"We have a date," you blurted out excitedly, jumping as you said so.
Peter did not mirror your excitement however, as his hands made they're way to his thinning hair.
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