The mission in space was every physics teacher's wet dream. And yet, when you found yourself alone on a spaceship, dread filled your mind. Fortunately, it turned out you weren’t quite alone. As a weird creature you’ve met by accident seemed to be quite happy in helping you finish a mission and keep a warm company.
𖥔 ݁ ˖pairing: ꒰ Alien!Gojo Satoru x Physics teacher!Reader ꒱
𖥔 ݁ ˖content/warnings: ꒰ MDNI 18+ : fluff, fluff, fluff : also a bit of angst : mutual masturbation : use of sex toys : happy ending : women in stem, doomed to never being able to touch each other : prepare some tissues : space : aliens : Satoru is a brat in every universe : alien's D : mates and mentions of mating ꒱
𖥔 ݁ ˖WC: ꒰ 15k ꒱
𖥔 ݁ ˖ notes: This story is based on the movie Project Hail Mary. Shoutout to @indiewritesxoxo whose story The One That Got Away inspired me to write a space-based fanfic!
dividers by @diviniyae
art by daichichirou on tt
"Miss, what's the space like?" a little girl with round frames asked you once during the class.
What's the space like? You wondered for a moment, with similar glasses resting on your nose.
Little models of planets swirled under the ceiling, clashing against each other with warm beams of sunshine curling around their painted bodies. The classroom stilled with silence, heavy and curious, marked by a dozen little eyes glancing up your furrowed forehead.
"Unfathomed," slipped almost in a whisper. But the kids were too young to understand this word, so you tried again. "It's endless, deep, mesmerising, silent, like–"
"Like a night?" a boy from the first row asked, playing with the wooden spaceship, all the children in the class had just finished painting.
You chuckled, playing with your own little toy, brushing the little silver window with a thumb.
"Much, much quieter," the spaceship landed on your desk, right next to the little, soft ball painted like Earth. Your eyes shimmered as you looked around the class of a dozen munchkins. "What do you hear while sleeping?"
Something began to coil in their little Einstein heads, with soft foreheads furrowed in thought. A flicker of an idea – a spark, their young minds were yet to discover and nourish throughout their lives.
You watched them with a smile, something warm spreading beneath your chest. Not everyone was born to be a teacher, with the day-to-day tiring work of preparing materials for classes, conducting lessons and checking all the foolish assignments that neither you nor the children liked. The education system truly was a shit hole from the very first steps those young minds took.
"Miss, that's a silly question," a little girl without one front tooth giggled. "We can't hear anything while we're sleeping!"
You hummed softly as you picked up the small earth ball. It yielded gently beneath your fingers, and the woollen toy, crocheted by your mother herself, felt pleasantly soft against your skin.
The bell would ring soon, and the afternoon sun was high in the sky, creeping through the tall, clean windows into the small classroom. Summer break was almost here, and the sweltering heat lingered in the stuffy air, filled with children's coughs and soft breathing.
"Exactly," you said, sitting on the desk and tossing the ball into the air. "That's what space is like. You can't hear anything."
"But what if I close my ears?" another boy said, pressing his hands to them. "I can't hear anything now, miss!" he screamed, setting off a wave of sweet giggles from his classmates.
The small green ball flew his way, and the boy caught it in one hand, scowling. "Hey, miss, that's not fair!"
"That was not, I do admit," you slipped off the desk, walking around the classroom. All small pairs of eyes followed you like puppies. "But you see, in space, there would be no need to cover your ears, because there is no air or matter for sound to travel through. Even when you're sleeping, there's always something out there, right?" Your eyes met a few nodding Einsteins before drifting towards the window. "You can hear the crickets singing under your window and the wind swirling between the leaves. But in space, there's nothing. Simply an empty, endless realm stretching beyond our comprehension."
A few droplets of sweat coiled on your temple, and you quickly brushed them with a thumb. Glasses sat crookedly on your nose, hair slipped away from a pin-up, and so you pushed them behind your ear.
"Miss, the space sounds so scary," the girl with round frames sighed. "I don't want to be an astronaut anymore."
You chuckled, coming to the previous boy and stealing a soft lump of earth from his sticky fingers. "The space may feel lonesome if you're there alone. But now, astronauts usually go in groups." The ball landed back on your desk, brushing gently against the wooden spaceship. "But even if you were alone, I think the view would be worth the night spent in loneliness."
And as it would soon turn out, nothing was worth the years spent alone. On the huge spaceship, with endless darkness spreading across the little window and years spent somewhere doing God knows what.
"The sun is dying," the government envoy had said. "Can you help us save the world?"
She caught you right after one of the classes, with a half-empty cup of instant noodles and cheeks peppered with crimson chilli-oil kisses. She arrived with a tall, muscular man and a printout of the PhD dissertation, placing a copy on your messy desk.
Your forehead crinkled, eyes landed on a neat, Times New Roman formatted title, An Analysis of Water-Based Assumptions and Recalibration of Expectations.
"That's not mine," you mumbled, going back to the cup of noodles. You hadn't eaten anything for a whole day, and your stomach was already pressed against your spine, with hunger twisting your weary mind.
"That's your name, isn't it?" she said, pressing a neatly trimmed nail against the smaller letters beneath the title.
You didn't even spare her a glance and simply shook your head. "No, I think you've mistaken me for someone else."
Both she and the man sighed, rolling two small chairs from the children's desk to sit in front of yours. With eyes fixed on your face, grimacing in ignorance, and a few locks of hair slipping into the cup.
"I'm Yuki," she said, crossing her legs before looking at the man with the dullest, most bleary eyes you have ever seen. "And that's Choso. We're from a… well. Now you only need to know that we work for NASA."
And that meant one thing – trouble.
Seeing your utmost disinterest, she continued in a warm tone. "Listen, we know your dissertation was a fantastic breakthrough that the supervising committee didn't appreciate. But–"
"A small correction," you interrupted, with eyes still glued to an almost empty cup. "They did not not appreciate me, but completely failed me. My research was proven wrong, and I spent almost five years chasing something that was never there. So no, it wasn't a breakthrough or anything."
"Her long fingers clenched into a fist, and a tongue nervously filled a creamy cheek. "Listen, in our current world situation, we believe that your research wasn't pointless. The hypothesis that life can exist without water–"
"Which was ultimately proven that it cannot," slipped in a whisper, gaze still following anything but those two.
"Right," she sighed, staying shockingly patient. "But the thing is, it actually may."
And for the first time in the past five minutes, you finally looked at her. With eyes hidden behind librarian-like glasses, a white shirt neatly pressed against your body, and chilli oil still coating lower lip. You brushed it quickly with a tissue before clearing throat.
"You have five minutes."
But Yuki needed just a second.
"There are some… microbes, the nature of which we aren't yet sure, that are slowly eating the sun. If we don't do something, in thirty years the global temperature will drop enough to kill every life on Earth."
A long, heavy silence stretched between the three of you, though she was the one doing the talking. The man in a suit sat in silence. He was rather handsome, with dark hair falling long down his neck and purplish under-eye bags framing his deep, doe-like eyes.
Feeling your eyes fixed on his face, Choso wriggled in place. "We believe that you are one of the few scientists who can help in research on those microbes."
A deep sigh slipped past your lips as you took off your glasses and closed eyes. A pulsing headache was filling your mind, weighing down an already overstimulated brain. A few short strands of noodles clung to the bottom of the plastic cup, looking up at your weary eyes, pleading to go home.
You finally murmured, throwing the cup into the bin, "I don't see how that's my problem. I'm just a physics teacher, the academic environment pushed me away, and I believe there are many more qualified scientists for this role."
Yuki's forehead furrowed, lips pressed in a line. "Not your problem? The world is dying, and you think it's not your problem?"
You could almost see a grey smoke drifting above her head, eyes shining like two coffee beans. Golden hair brushed against her suit-covered breasts, with a few straight strands sticking to soft cheeks. She appeared magnificently commanding, exuding a dominant aura of someone beyond the law. Even sitting on a small children's chair, you felt goosebumps cover your bare shoulders.
You leaned back in a chair, the hard backrest digging into your spine. "I just don't understand why it should be me. This," you pointed at a three-hundred-page dissertation, "was just a foolish fantasy of my younger self. And trust me, I felt how stupid it was," your eyes fell to your fingers, playing with a soft, earthy ball. "No one treats me like a scientist anymore."
And then, Yuki stood up.
Suddenly, reaching over the desk right to your shirt, before pulling you closer with a single move. Eyes fixed on yours like a deadly viper, and a sweet note of heavy perfumes hit your nostrils.
"Try it," she gritted through her teeth. "Accept my offer till I'm still begging. I don't want things to get messy, but I really need your help on this one."
And so, feeling rather threatened, you nodded swiftly and followed the kind smile that lifted up her lips.
Now, three years later, reflecting on that time, you never felt as happy and alive as you did then. Surrounded by the world's most exceptional scientists, working on alien, new microbes – the freshest discoveries in current scientific research – spending days and nights fuelled by bitter coffee, sitting in the labs.
The time didn't matter, as long as you could work on your research. To once again feel like a valuable input to the academic environment and a student from your PhD days, when the world was most beautiful under the microscope and while collecting the newest data.
Your heart raced during the meetings as your fingers carefully noted each idea, each plan that other scientists put forward. The greatest minds in the world, flooding your own with plans and speculations you could've never thought of. Your brain fired multiple times a day, always running, always getting fed with new questions and solutions.
Why is the sun dying?
How can we stop it?
How to produce enough fuel to go all the way right to the sun?
Is that even possible?
But then it was revealed that an alien microbe was composed entirely of water, and your world collapsed. Because it finally confirmed the very point you've been secretly trying to reject for years, proving to you that cells cannot survive without water.
Your heart broke, and a wave of shame washed over your spine. The shame connected to your younger self, foolishly believing in a greatness of discovery no one has ever made. Something worth the international conferences, massive grants, Nobel Prize, and yet, you needed a single, alien cell, something not belonging to the human world, to finally prove those old geezers from your committee right.
The white, big lamp of the lab flickered; darkness spilt over the endless night. Nothing but a faint buzz of mosquitoes filled the lab, hitting the window again, and again, and again. Hungry and relentless, looking at your body hunched over the failed experiment and slightly trembling lip.
You haven't noticed someone else's presence until something cold and wet touched your cheek. Turning the head around, you noticed a can of soda and Choso's pale fingers wrapped around it.
"Thanks," escaped in a whisper, as you took the drink.
He nodded, sitting on the stool right next to you. Your lab partner, who's been through your highs and lows for the past few weeks. The biggest encouragement and life support, always reminding you to eat well and drink something other than a third coffee in a row. He was another government body, Yuki's closest friend, yet – you liked him.
He felt the most normal here, and thus, your head rested on his shoulder, while hair covered the slightly wet cheeks.
"Are you crying?" he asked quietly.
Your head shook, and a second later, a loud sniff rolled. Choso chuckled, offering a tissue.
"Thank you, Cho," you mumbled, trying to hide the streaming tears behind the wide glasses.
He nodded, waiting for you to calm down a bit. The white lamp buzzed quietly, and the screen of the computer shone bright with your PhD dissertation. The thick letters of the title, with your name written right below.
Three hundred pages of bullshit born from your silly dreams. The Nobel Prize? Dear heavens, you barely deserved to be part of the current team.
"That's not the end of the world, you know?" he said, then pressed his cheek with tongue. "Hm, no. It actually is."
You laughed disgustingly, with a snort slipping out of your nose and another wave of tears streaming down your face. "I'm sorry," slipped almost silently. "I'm sorry, I proved you all wrong."
Choso sighed, looking at your sorry state. He pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and brushed away a single tear with a soft thumb. "No, you didn't. Now that we know what it's made of, you can think about another solution."
But there isn't another solution, you wanted to say, and instead bit down on your lower lip. The words bubbled in your throat, but a thin thread of hope still pulled at your heart. A faint wish that maybe this discovery wasn't a disaster. That the alien cell, made almost entirely of water, could somehow help with the mission.
That you could still prove yourself as a true scientist.
"Hey," Choso whispered, turning your face towards him. Deep, warm eyes shimmered with kindness as he offered a soft smile and gently pinched your cheek. "You are one of the smartest people I have ever met. I'm sure you can figure this out. Yuki believes in you. I believe in you." Staring into his eyes, you nodded with a pout. He chuckled and opened your soda with a quiet hiss. "Alright, let's call it a day and get back to it tomorrow. We still have time."
But the fact was that – you didn't.
And it was painfully obvious in how Yuki glanced into your lab every few days, asking about progress and results in halting the spread of alien microbes on the sun. Her neatly plucked eyebrows furrowed whenever you shook your head, and a short, stressed sigh escaped her rosy lips.
Try to hurry up, she would usually say, pulling a not-so-comforting smile.
Weeks went by, and everyone's stress increased. Yuki decided to set up a deadly mission, sending a team of astronauts to collect data personally.
The catch? They wouldn't return.
While there was enough fuel to reach the star teeming with alien microbes, there wasn't enough to return. Their goal was to collect the microbes, find a way to stop them from consuming the sun, and send all the data back to Earth.
The first time you heard about it, your knees almost buckled. It sounded outrageous, absolutely crazy, and the chance of finding someone mad and healthy enough to meet the requirements perfectly was already impossible.
And as it turned out, you were wrong.
The four astronauts were more than willing to sacrifice their lives for the greater good – to venture into the vast, endless space and perish there, in the company of strangers and eerie silence. To become saviours on a mission that could save the entire world.
Except, there was a risk the mission would fail.
Except, no one knew if they wouldn't lose their lives for nothing.
Because if that happened, if it turned out that all the money and sacrifices the government has invested in it would go to waste, the world would truly descend into shambles.
You stood against it from the very beginning, but You stood against it from the very beginning, but Yuki had already decided. And so there was nothing left to do but help the spaceship travel the twelve light-years towards the only star that was also dying, devoured by an alien microbe.
One hundred and thirteen trillion kilometres.
An unimaginably vast distance a simple mind could not grasp, yet you had to find a way to make it work. To figure out how to gather enough fuel to propel the massive, metal spaceship through every single kilometre.
And after a few weeks of getting yourself filled with coffee and nights spent outside the NASA base, gazing up into the endless darkness, you finally got it.
"The alien microbes possess unimaginable power," you said in one breath, looking like a madwoman. With hair twisted into a messy braid, hands shaking from too much caffeine, eyes glimmering as if possessed by Einstein himself. Your fingers gripped the black marker before drawing another black dot on the whiteboard. "You see, what we can do is allow the engines to feed the alien microbes into a reaction chamber and boil them to the point of natural breeding. This way, the cells will multiply and multiply, allowing us to use them in a much more efficient way," the black marker swooshed all over the board, drawing a crooked picture of the spaceship.
At least thirty pairs of eyes, seated in a conference room at NASA headquarters, stared into it with furrowed yet hopeful gazes. Yuki and Choso, among them, tried to understand the point you were making. The crazy discovery you had made mere hours earlier, before quickly asking for a meeting.
"Our ship doesn't need turbines, generators or heat exchangers, because there's no conventional fuel. It works as a sort of ship driven by light energy–"
"That's impossible," someone among the other scientists interrupted. "You cannot fuel a ship of such dimensions with light alone."
You nodded, whispering like a psycho under your breath, head buzzing with numbers. "Yes, you cannot do it with the sources we have here, on Earth. But," you turned back towards the whiteboard. "Our ship is not like the others, and the microbes allow us to actually use the light force as a fuel. Look, for every action there's an equal and opposite reaction. Newton's third law, we all know it, right?" A few heads nodded in unison. "Well, our ship will emit light in one direction, while Newton's law will push it in the other. I know it used to work only in theory, but with the amount of power packed into a single microbe, we can use it for our good. In short, the alien power goes into the ship, the light comes out, and we can move forward."
A long, heavy silence filled the room as you finished your little drawing. Black lines coated the board, crossing the black dots and twisting around the childishly drawn ship. You pushed your glasses up your nose and tucked a strand of hair back behind your ear.
That was it. Nothing else could've been done on your side. If none of the scientists and governmental bodies believed your crazy plan could work, there was no other way to put the ship on a direct course towards that star.
Yuki sighed and looked around nervously. While people whispered, shook their heads, or took notes, no one offered you a warm nod or made direct eye contact. But it also seemed that no one else had a better idea.
"Are you sure it can work?" "Are you sure it can work?" Yuki asked, a heavy gaze lingering as warmth crept up your cheeks. "It's over a hundred and thirteen trillion kilometres. Are you sure the ship can be fuelled only by this alien microbe?"
Something weighed on your heart. Fear, panic, years spent believing you weren't good enough to become a real scientist. Those snickers from the PhD commission stating your research was useless. The rejections from one scientific conference after another, as no one wanted to accept your proposals.
Days spent on crying and staring at your dissertation, as if looking at it long enough would suddenly make it all worth it.
And then, under the cold light of the conference room, with thirty heads staring at you in blank mimicry, you needed to make a decision.
The one that would soon turn into a weight on your life.
"Yes," finally slipped. Strong and confident, as you corrected glasses slipping off your nose. "I can make it work."
But then…
But then the catastrophe came.
The betrayal.
Yuki apologising with utmost sincerity. Choso sitting quietly in the corner of her office. Three men keeping your body down.
From the moment you saw the space crew, one thought kept lingering in your mind. You dismissed it with a casual "they'll figure it out" wave, ignoring the instinct that indicated something was off – something that should have been clear from the start.
Why didn't the space crew have the scientist?
And a day before the departure, you finally discovered why.
"I'm sorry, I'm really so so sorry," Yuki said, trying to calm your wriggling body. The man's hands dug deep into your spine, keeping the hands and knees in place, with a cheek pressed to a dirty carpet. "We don't have any choice, and you wouldn't agree if I asked–"
"Of course I wouldn't!" you screamed, trying to bite the soft hand that reached towards you. "It's a fucking suicide! I'm a simple teacher; I can't go to a fucking space–ah, can you be a bit more gentle?!" But the men's fingers were already wrapping your hands with a thick rope. "Yuki, you can't do it to me!"
The woman didn't say anything. She merely opened her office door and beckoned someone inside. Wearing a white robe and holding a syringe between their fingers.
Your mind raced, breathing became almost impossible, and your throat clenched as you fought the sudden urge to vomit on the carpet. You tried to meet Choso's gaze, but he sat in the corner with his head in his hands, avoiding your gaze since you entered the office.
"Choso," you cried, as the doctor came closer. Long, thin needle shimmered under the office's cold lamp, sending a shiver down your spine. "Choso, l-look at me. You fucking coward, you bastard!" Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as the man sat like a stone figure. "You knew about it from the beginning, right? How could you do this to me?!"
Deep, warm eyes that you spent days gazing into finally looked up. Slightly wet, a bit hazy, while taking in the miserable state you found yourself in. Your glasses slightly crooked, lying a bit away from teary face. A few strands of hair sticking to your cheeks, arms twisted painfully behind back.
His fingers dug into the leather chair, as if trying to force himself to stay back.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't… I couldn't bring myself to tell you…"
"That I'm going for a fucking suicidal mission?!" you interrupted, still trying to kick the men off your body. "I thought we were friends! I trusted you! And you simply sold me away?"
Yuki shivered, her gaze shifting between coldness and heartbreaking warmth whenever she looked at your writhing body. She slipped her trembling hand into the pocket of her jeans before giving the doctor a small nod.
"N-No," you cried, when the man in white bent down. A sudden, sharp pain washed over your body, tickling the ends of your fingertips. "Please, I d-don't want to, I can't…"
And then, a weariness slowly filled your mind, lulling it into a deep sleep. Your body relaxed, eyes half-closed, as if weighted by the countless sleepless nights you had spent in labs.
The men lifted you up, keeping your head steady, but you didn't feel a thing. Your feet felt funny, light, as if blending into feathers. Some hushed voices started to argue, someone's warm hand brushed your cheek, and a heavy, musky smell filled your nostrils.
And before you lost consciousness, a silent save the earth sneaked into your ear.
𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖
"Amazing," a low sigh slipped past your lips as you watched a massive ship slowly follow yours.
Monstrous, at least twenty times larger than the spaceship you called home for the past three years, which couldn't be contained within the small window you looked through. It appeared incredibly bright, almost as if it were made of glass, yet you couldn't see anything beyond the thick walls.
It's been shadowing you since yesterday, and it has been following you since yesterday, regardless of how long you travelled or how fast you went; it remained right there. Always in your line of sight from your window, constantly mirroring every move you make.
It was… fascinating. To say at least.
A little frightening? Sure, as you were alone on a ship, with the crew long gone and drifting silently through the vast emptiness of space.
Bit still – fascinating. It marked the first time a human saw an object outside Earth. Majestic and otherworldly, it looked somewhat familiar yet vastly different. A faint cosmic glow shimmered on its diamond-like walls, casting short beams through your solitary window, as if attempting to communicate. As if the creature within tried to contact.
Still drifting slowly, you bit down on your lower lip. "Maybe I should stop?" you thought out loud, as another flicker of light hit your window. "What if they'll attack me?"
But at this point, already being alone on an impossible, suicidal mission, it seemed that an alien attack would be the least of your problems. In fact, maybe it would even sweeten your life a bit, and before meeting death, you would still have a chance to make the first human contact with life outside Earth.
"Okay," You took a deep sigh, pulling down the engine handle. "Let's see what you want from me."
Your ship stopped, and the monstrous glassed vehicle followed right away. With your forehead pressed to the window, you waited.
And waited, waited, till ten minutes passed and the ship stood still. Your tongue pressed against the soft cheek as you walked back and forth, awaiting any sign of activity. Yet, the vast galaxy outside remained tranquil, a gentle glow reflecting off the smooth, wall-like surface of the enormous ship. It lacked doors and windows, being just a glassy, shimmering exterior that–
"Oh no," your throat tightened as it drew closer. And closer, closer, swooshing towards you, something long slowly sliding out of the ship's tall wall. "Oh, that's bad, fuck."
A panic squeezed your heart, thoughts rushed through a tired mind, and there weren't enough cuticles on your nails to bite them all. The window was too small to see the thing clearly, but it seemed to be heading straight towards your ship's door. A long, shining tube swooshed closer and closer until your ship suddenly vibrated, as if gently brushing against a foreign object.
Your fingers fidgeted with the plush fabric of the shirt, while droplets of sweat made your glasses slide down your temple. With unsteady legs, you cautiously moved toward the astronaut's suit and started pulling it over your body. The zipper felt heavy under your touch, and the bubble-shaped helmet was more suffocating than usual. The oxygen backpack almost doubled your load as you headed toward the door, with heavy pounding in your chest.
Your heart was always perfectly healthy, and yet for the first time in your life, you tried to remember all the possible symptoms of a woman's heart attack.
Chest pain, severe shortness of breath, nausea, radiating pain in the neck and jaw, you counted in your mind, marking each and every sign in your current state.
"Fuck, okay," trembling, glove-coated hands squeezed the handle of the massive, metal door, before you pushed it. It opened with a low, soft creek, inviting you into the endless tunnel filled with darkness.
To your surprise, gravity worked here, and thus you dropped heavily onto the hard floor. A soft oh filled the helmet as you lifted the flashlight a bit higher. Something shimmered at the end of the darkness, yet you weren't sure what.
Your steps didn't echo from the thick walls as you slowly approached the entrance to the alien ship. Thoughts clashed painfully in your mind, questions rose one by one as you breathed with a squeezed chest under the weighty kilograms of a spacesuit.
How many of them were there?
What did they look like?
Were they friendly?
How quick and painful would your death be?
Your mind tried to ignore the last one, as the chance of a cardiac arrest before meeting an alien seemed much more likely. Fingers clutched the flashlight tighter, feet moved carefully, one step after another, sticking to the tunnel's crooked surface.
"Hello?" Your voice bounced off the walls, lined with terror. "Whoever you are, I come in peace!"
Oh, what a cheesy line, you thought, biting down on your lower lip.
After a few steps, the glimmering thing came fully into view, and only then did you notice it was a thick glass wall. Or at least something similar to glass, with a hard surface that stopped you from going any further.
Glove-clothed hand touched it, helmet bumped against it, as you tried to light the darkness spilling behind it.
"Hello?" slipped a bit louder, with your fist knocking on the glass. "Anyone there?"
A silence, dull and endless, filled an eerie tunnel. Looking back, you took a note that your spaceship was still there – safe and sound – and you let out a deep sigh. It's not as if it would suddenly float away, but–
A heavy thump suddenly shook the tunnel's floor.
Your head snapped back, breath hitched, fingers squeezed with a tremble around the flashlight.
"H-Hello?"
The light reflected off something towering and shimmering, slowly moving toward you in a relaxed, unhurried manner, nearly as tall as the tunnel itself. A bluish halo beamed off the creature's body, filling the dark space with a soft aura.
You stepped back, trying to direct a flickering beam straight at the thing coming your way, but your hand trembled too much. The heart was on the verge of stopping, and dread haunted the mind as it drew closer, revealing its height. At least two and a half metres, brushing the ceiling of the tunnel's crooked walls, filling the narrow space with its wide body.
And when the light caught on their face… oh.
The pale blue skin shimmered softly under a luminous glow. It appeared unnaturally smooth, soft, and a sudden, foolish wish to brush it with your thumb swirled inside your mind. White, snowy hair touched the handsome forehead, while nearly inhumanly pale-blue eyes gazed down at your spacesuit-covered body. You looked tiny and short in comparison, with a gloved hand once more resting on the glass wall.
The creature was dressed in a white suit, clinging tightly to its body and digging deep into the hard muscles bulging under its skin. Alien's head tilted, knees bent down, and within a second, it found itself on eye-level with you.
White lashes decorating endless, luminous blue fluttered, as if trying to take in the terror twisting your face.
"⊑⟒⌰⌰⍜," a low, manly voice crept past the glass.
Your eyes bulged like two porcelain plates, fingers pressed closer to the wall.
So he was a man.
Well, you could already figure that much based on his looks, but the warm tone slipping under your bubble helmet was evidence enough.
Your mind didn't register the language at first, but when his soft brow travelled up, and lips curled in a smile, you thought that maybe he was awaiting an answer.
"Oh, um," you took a step back, waving your hand clumsily. "Hello."
The creature's head tilted again, and he mimicked your gesture.
You blinked twice, still struggling to believe the situation you're in. "Uh, okay, what now?" you whispered. "I am..." You pointed at your head and said your name clearly and loudly. "What about you?"
"⊬⍜⎍ ☊⏃⋏ ⏚⍀⟒⏃⏁⊑ ⊑⟒⍀⟒," the creature said, and a wave of different sounds and tones once again hit your ears.
You sighed, pressing tongue against your cheek. "Right, it's not going to work."
He looked at you, and you looked at him. You, with a slightly furrowed forehead and your mind rushing through all the possible ways to communicate with the alien. He, with lips curled cheekily and pale eyes fixed on your face.
"I wouldn't mind your cooperation, you know?" you mumbled, but he tipped his head left and right, like a curious puppy.
"⊬⍜⎍ ☊⏃⋏ ⏚⍀⟒⏃⏁⊑⟒ ⊑⟒⍀⟒," the same sounds once again slipped past the glass wall.
His head was tipping and tilting, and a second had passed before you finally understood that he wanted to say something.
"What? I don't understand," you said, mimicking his movements.
And thus both of you were shaking and tilting your heads, going over and over the same ⊬⍜⎍ ☊⏃⋏ ⏚⍀⟒⏃⏁⊑⟒ ⊑⟒⍀⟒,and I don't understand.
His brows furrowed as if irritated, and large hand touched his chest. He took a deep breath – first and second – then pointed at his head and finally at yours.
Oh.
"You want me to..." you gestured as if removing the helmet. A quiet chuckle escaped him, and eyes glinted. "But I can't breathe here."
He didn't understand and thus pointed at your head once again. "⏁⏃☍⟒ ⟟⏁ ⍜⎎⎎."
Your head shook. "Whatever you say, I cannot take it off. Because I will…" Your hands slipped up to your throat before a wave of trembling convulsions bent your body. It wriggled, shook, before, with a theatrical cough, you fell down the crooked floor.
The creature was staring at you with a furrowed forehead and a gentle flicker of amusement coiling in his spectral eyes.
"Not the best first impression, I know," you muttered, swiftly standing up. "My point is, I can't breathe without it."
But it seemed he either didn't understand or was simply relentless in his pleadings. As the long fingers hit the glass wall, pointing right at your head. Another deep breath slipped past his lips, and he nodded, as if trying to say it was fine. Whatever he filled the tunnel with, you could breathe here.
And thus, the thought of what if slipped quietly into your mind.
What if he was right?
What if he really did fill your half of the tunnel with oxygen?
But what if he was wrong, and the moment the helmet would go off, you would die in inhumane suffering?
Light blue eyes shone with anticipation, lips curled into an encouraging smile, and a finger pressed harder into the glass wall.
You took a deep breath, feeling the droplets of sweat coiling at the nape of your neck. He seemed to be a highly intelligent creature, with the ability to communicate as well as you and a rather comprehensive understanding of the differences between your species. For some reason, trusting him felt almost natural, and the assuring look of his spectral gaze made you drop your head with a sigh.
When fingers hooked on the helmet's edges, your heart was nearing its death. Chest squeezed painfully, eyes closed till the eyelids dug deep into your balls. The sweat was now dripping down your spine, wetting the nape of your neck and shirt that clung to your body under the heavy spacesuit.
"Okay," you whispered, both to yourself and him, and it seemed that he was rather amused by the agony twisting your mind. When he chuckled, your brows furrowed. "Don't laugh. There's a rather big chance this air will burn me from the inside."
And so it happened – your fingers slowly unclasped the neck ring, allowing the pressurised seal to loosen with a soft puf. The bubble helmet was lifted unhurriedly, as if your lungs were still trying to grasp the rest of the oxygen swirling inside it.
With still closed eyes, you took the first breath. And the second, and the third, and then, looking back at the alien, a sweet, loud scoff slipped past your lips, and flushed cheeks.
"⌇⟒⟒, ⟟ ⏁⍜⌰⎅ ⊬⍜⎍," he chuckled, pressing his forehead to the glass wall.
Still in shock, you stepped closer, also touching the warm, crystal surface with your brows. "Sure, whatever you say."
You looked at each other for a while, with beaming smiles and foreheads almost brushing as you leaned in, a rather intimate gesture. It seemed that the first meeting with another species broke down some specific walls for both of you. The curiosity and fascination with one another blurred the lines of proper manners, breaching all the careful first steps you surely should think of.
His eyes flickered, suggesting a new idea had just come to him. He raised a finger and gestured for you to stay put. After your gentle nod, he vanished into the darkness of the tunnel, leaving you alone with your thoughts swirling in your mind.
Five minutes passed, then ten, and as you sat on the crooked floor and took off the heavy spacesuit, he finally came back, with something gripped by his hand.
You looked closer, noticing the collar-like device and a small earplug. He placed it inside his ear while wrapping the collar around the pale neck. A faint, crispy sound filled his side of the tunnel, and milky brows furrowed as he pressed onto the device in his ear.
And then, with a gesture, he asked you to say something.
"Um," your head tilted, and he sat right in front of you, waiting with a soft smile. "You are rather pretty for an alien."
His fingers still pressed the small device, and after a second, cheekiness flickered in his eyes. "Am I, question? You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen."
To say you froze in shock would be an understatement.
Your lips parted, eyebrows nearly touching hairline, as body leaned forward before your hand pressed against the glass wall. You didn't know whether you were more surprised by either his ability to speak your language or the casual compliment that caused your cheeks to heat up.
"You can…" You shook your head, barely breathing. "But how is it…"
He pointed at his ear. "This device recognises your language," then gestured to his neck. "And connects with this. Whenever I speak in my language, this collar converts it into yours."
A soft ah slipped past your lips, eyes fixed on the thin, crystal band made of a sort of rubber material. Your finger brushed the glass wall, as if trying to feel the device beneath it.
Your brows furrowed when another issue started to bite into your curiosity. "But how do you know my language? How did you build this translator? Our species never made contact."
He sat closer, pressing his forehead to the glass again. At this point, you started to wonder whether it was a sort of typical signal from his species, carrying a special, unknown meaning. And when he beamed with joy, you noticed little white droplets shining faintly, sprinkled around his cheeks. Was this an equivalent of a blush?
"You didn't with us," he pressed a finger to yours, and only then did you see the true, monstrous size of his hand. "But the Reds had been studying you for years."
The reds…
"Oh gosh!" A gasp ripped out of your throat as you covered your mouth with a hand. His head tilted. "The Reds, you mean, Martians?"
"Why are you shocked, question?" he asked, carefully eyeing as you quickly stood up and started walking back and forth between the walls.
Your mind pulsed, trying to comprehend everything that had happened over the past hour. The strange spaceship, the first-ever human contact with life beyond Earth, the final confirmation that aliens did, in fact, kidnap people and conduct experiments on them.
"I'm shocked, because humans never made any contact with life outside our planet," you said, biting down on a fingernail. "How long have you known the Reds?"
A low hum slipped past his lips, and smooth, blue forehead creased. "Five hundred years, I say."
"What?!" Your knees buckled as you once again sat in front of him, with hands and forehead and breasts pressed tightly to a glass wall. "Five hundred years? How is that possible? Are your planets close to each other?"
His head shook, but forehead remained wrinkled. "Humans are very underdeveloped."
You chuckled softly, noticing small, adorable language mistakes the translator made here and there. It's still, robotic voice muffled the creature's deep tone, and something squeezed your heart, as you surprisingly discovered that the honeyed warmth of his tone wrapped your mind in a rather pleasing manner.
"Yes, it seems so." Your head turned, with flushed cheeks pressed to the wall. "But till now I had no idea how far behind we are."
He stayed quiet for a moment before tapping gently on the wall. Your eyes slipped back to his, noticing the droplets sprinkled across his face, radiating adorably like flickering stars.
"My name is Satoru," rolled quietly, as the shimmering dust coated his cheeks ever wider. "Your name, question?"
When you said it slowly, he nodded, still tapping on the surface. Right against your pressed hand. "That's a very beautiful name."
"Yours is not bad either."
He hummed, as if in agreement.
Your head grew heavier and heavier, and the warmth was gently trying to coax you into sleep. As you yawned, Satoru's ghostly eyes carefully followed the exhaustion clouding your forehead.
"Are you tired, question?"
His throat bobbed when you giggled. "You don't have to add a question at the end of each ask, you know?"
You assumed that, because of his grammar rules, he needed to emphasise the difference between normal sentences and inquiries. You've noticed that his language sounded much more melodic than yours, yet it lacked the upward pitch humans use.
"But I am tired, thank you for asking." Looking over your shoulder, you've noticed that your ship was, fortunately, still there. "How about I go to sleep, and we'll get back to our talk in a few hours?"
You slowly stood up and grabbed your heavy spacesuit. Glasses slipped off your nose, and hair stuck to still-warm cheeks, as you lifted up the flashlight and… oh.
It seemed that you missed the sudden sorrow deepening between Satoru's brows. Eyes widened in panic, big palms plastered to the wall with lips just slightly opened, as he looked with a fearful expression at your attempt to move away from the wall. From him.
"Satoru–"
"Can you please sleep here?" His voice trembled, although the translator's robotic tone remained unwavering.
You looked around the tunnel, feeling the crooked ground bending beneath your feet and the dark walls emitting a deep, earthy smell. "I don't think that's a good idea, Satoru." A warm smile lifted your lips as you turned towards your spaceship. "But don't worry, I'll be back. Sleep for a bit, and before you'll notice, I'll–"
"Please," the anxiety filling his shaken voice stabbed right through your heart. "Please let me watch you sleep."
You glanced over your shoulder, seeing him in the same position. With hands pressed against the wall and eyebrows furrowed deeply.
"Watch me sleep?"
He nodded. "I… I didn't watch my crew sleep. The crew died. Satoru has been alone for the past forty years." Your lips fell open, but he quickly added, as if afraid you'd refuse again. "I watch you sleep, you won't die."
Seeing his face – filled with anxiety, pure fear, and misery – you could only smile softly and nod. As the mere thought of this man spending over forty years in space all alone tore your heart apart in the most inhumanely painful way.
"Yes, okay," barely pushed past your lips, before you cleared your throat. "Just let me bring my stuff."
You quickly changed into pyjamas, gathered a few blankets, a pillow and enough water for the night, before going back to the warm tunnel.
And then, as you drew closer to the glassy wall, you noticed a slight change in its shape. As during the five minutes you were gone, Satoru had prepared a special shelf for your body to lie right next to him. With his own feather-like blanket, he lay on his side, waiting for you to slip into the long space and hug him.
You giggled, filling the space with your own things. "That's quite intimate, Satoru."
His body was much taller than the width of the tunnel, and thus, he curled his legs a bit before trying to get even closer to you. "What does intimate mean, question?"
With head hitting the soft pillow and blanket covering your body, you turned his way. Nothing but a thick crystal wall kept you away from brushing noses with each other.
"It means that you're trying to be romantic with someone," but then you thought he might also not understand what romantic means. "Hm, it's when you do nice things for a certain person that you wouldn't do for anyone else. For example, make a special bed to be closer to someone."
A soft crease wrinkled his forehead, and the peacefulness of his eyes told you that he was deeply thinking. "I wouldn't do it for anyone other than you."
The sincerity beaming from his eyes was enough to assure you of the innocent truthfulness of his words. So you sighed, nuzzling deep into the pillow, hoping he didn't notice the warmth on your cheeks.
"That's very romantic, you know? Something you would say to your special someone."
"To your mate, question?"
You hummed, softly closing eyes. His presence somehow made your body tingle with a pleasant warmth, allowing the sleep to haunt your mind in a much softer, calmer way. In a way, you didn't feel for a long, long time, spending days in loneliness and a maddening need to feel someone else's warmth again.
You couldn't feel Satoru's heat, yet your heart fluttered fondly as his gaze truly watched you sleep.
"Yes, although humans don't mate."
"Why, question?"
When you giggled – sweetly, kindly – droplets coating Satoru's cheeks lighted up. Solely for a second, but it was enough to make him slip closer, and closer, and closer, till the glass wall was digging painfully into his body, and his heart still rushed your way.
You bubbled something under your nose. An answer he could not hear. With your lips falling open and a crystal string of saliva dripping down the soft pillow.
His finger pressed against the glass, as if wishing to brush it away.
And when another five minutes passed, a soft snoring filled your side of the tunnel. Breath calmed down, and body drew closer to his. Trying to curl into his – big, burning hot, utterly dangerous for yours.
"I watch you sleep," he whispered, brushing the glass with your pressed cheek. "You never die."
𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖
Satoru was much more intelligent than you expected.
It's not that you treated him as beneath you, but the true power of his mind exceeded your expectations.
And as it turned out, he was in the same situation as you – researching the alien microbes that were also eating his sun. Except that his species discovered the problem forty years before yours, and thus a wave of panic washed over your mind. Because if a creature like Satoru couldn't find the solution to the problem that apparently touched not just Earth but the whole universe, you wouldn't do it either.
One difference between you and Satoru was that, as an engineer, he could actually do things himself. Simply produce them, with all the glassed walls and tiny models of planets made from a strange, gluey substance that rolled off his fingers. He wasn't a scientist like you, so when he heard that you were the "brain" of the crew, his eyes flickered.
"We can work together," he proposed, already considering the path to the only planet not consumed by alien microbes. Since it wasn't infected, it suggested there was something in its atmosphere that enabled it to withstand the lethal bacteria. "You will be the mastermind of the entire operation, I will develop the sources. Also, I have spent forty years here, so I know how to navigate."
His eyes were fixed on creating another little planet, rolling the gluey strings between his pads, moulding them into a ball and waiting until the substance dried into a crystal orb. After a few days, your glassy wall had advanced enough to have a small opening for a shelf where you could exchange little presents.
Although you forgot that Satoru's atmosphere was close to boiling lava in temperature, when your hands accidentally brushed, a nasty, red bump was left on the skin of your thumb.
He put the ball on the shelf and moved his hand away so you could grab it.
"Which planet is it?" you wondered, brushing the crystal surface.
He tsked – something he learnt from you mere hour ago – and mumbled. "The earth, of course."
A scoff escaped your lips, and warmth spilt over the heart. "We're not that small."
"I believe you are."
"And we have more greenery."
He wondered, this time building a small spaceship. Your spaceship. "I would like to see it."
Some things have become clearer after spending the past few days in Satoru's presence. His planet was one of the closest to the sun, wrapped in a dense atmosphere that protected its inhabitants from being burned alive. As Satoru said, the days merged with the nights, and it was always rather dark – hence the pale, almost spectral eyes he and other inhabitants had. There was little to no greenery, and the water system had long been sustained by technologies developed by engineers like him.
"A lot of sand", he once said, and you wondered whether it would look like anything close to the climate of Arab countries.
His head tilted then, and eyes flickered with curiosity. "How do Arab countries look, question?"
You tried to describe the endless desert plains, the crimson sun, the curling droplets of sweat on your neck, and the nights filled with beaming joy as best you could. The feel of warm sand under your feet, sea brushing the skin sweetly and fresh dates melting on your tongue in sugary pleasure.
He listened, with eyes following the curve of your lips and fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.
"I would love to see it," he muttered, poking the glass wall with his finger. "It sounds beautiful."
You giggled, following the pale blue of his skin. Soft and shiny, it reminded you more of a region bitten by cold than of the merciless atmospheric temperature of over two hundred degrees Celsius.
"You're rather pale for someone living right next to the sun."
He scoffed, with fingers still creating the small spaceship. In the meantime, you leaned against the crooked tunnel's wall, with a laptop on your thighs, trying to plan the route towards the only "safe" planet.
"I'm not pale. I'm blue."
"That was a joke," you shoot him a glance, seeing the irritated squint of his eyes. "It means that the thing I say is supposed to be funny. You should laugh."
A low, awkward chuckle rolled off his lips, and you couldn't help but burst out laughing. Satoru knew how to express his joy, but it seemed he didn't quite possess the humour you did.
The moment has passed, and a comfortable silence stretched between the two of you. He was mapping the galaxy, while you tried to work out whether your ship still had enough fuel to travel that far. It would take you months to reach that planet, but there seemed to be no other choice. After that mission, the fuel will run out, and you, just as planned, will die here – somewhere in the embrace of endless space.
A low sigh slipped past your lips, catching Satoru's attention. "Are you tired, question?"
Your head shook, and a few strands of hair fell loosely from a pinup. "I would love to invite you to my ship. There's a room where we can watch movies and stuff. I'm sure I can find something about Egypt."
And so…
You've also learned over the past few days that Satoru took everything seriously.
In the most genuine and firm understanding of this word.
Two weeks have passed since your meeting. One morning, as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, dressed in nothing but panties and a loose shirt while brushing your teeth, a deep, gravelly rumble shook the entire spaceship.
Your heart leapt into your throat, eyes bulged, and you dashed out of the room with wet hair and bare feet. With all the prayers you've learnt as a child repeating in your mind over and over again, as you run towards the entrance of the ship.
Did you somehow get unsealed from the tunnel?
Did something hit the ship and cause the irreparable damage that would cost you your life?
Fuck, did–
But when you finally got into the room connected with an entrance, with toothpaste smeared all over your cheek and glasses falling crookedly off your nose, a low gasp slipped past your lips.
"Satoru?!"
Because the pale-bluish creature himself stood in the middle of your spaceship, locked in a…
"And you're in a ball?" Like a hamster, wanted to join, but he probably wouldn't know what a hamster is.
Standing right in front of you, fully upright, with long legs wrapped in a white suit and a muscular back bulging under the stretched material – he appeared even more monstrous than usual. A creature over two metres tall, looking all over your place with amusement shining in his eyes, his gaze following all your dirty panties spread across the floor.
"Yep, so I won't die in your atmosphere," long fingers knocked the crystal ball, before lips curved in a cheeky smile. "Can I smell it, question? I want to know how your body smells. Put it to the shel–"
A sudden warmth had hit your cheeks, and throat tightened around the remnants of the toothpaste. "Absolutely not! It's very not polite of you to ask such things."
He started walking around in a large ball that barely fit the corridors of your spaceship, its hard walls brushing against each and every machine, piece of furniture, and console on its way. He strolled freely, dropping different comments here and there, while you followed him and picked up all your clothes.
"So dirty," he snapped, pushing a loud scoff from your throat.
"I didn't expect the guests!"
But he ignored you, as your bedroom appeared somewhere within the line of his sight. Blue cheeks shone with crystal droplets, and white, fluffy hair almost stood on end with excitement. Before you could stop him, long legs swiftly moved towards your bedroom, taking in every little, dirty, detail – more panties, a small mattress, a few books lying scattered all over the floor.
"Is that our nest, question?" He looked around before parking his ball next to your mattress. He sat down, leaning against the floor, and finally shot you a look. "I like it."
With a deep, weariness-filled sigh, you returned to the bathroom, cleaned yourself, and re-entered the bedroom. Soft light reflected off the glistening droplets on his cheeks as he probed the fabric of your panties with his finger. Only then did you realise that the ball, despite being firm, was quite flexible, enabling him to slide his fingers through its surface, which was covered in a sticky, shimmering coating that shielded his skin from the oxygen.
You took the material away from his curious gaze and pushed it back into your bag.
"Satoru, what are you doing here?" slipped rather harshly as you sat down on your bed.
He seemed to be confused by your tone, tilting the fluffy head with a furrow. "Are you mad, question?"
You knew that getting angry with him, while he was still learning to recognise human emotions, was silly. Stupid, even, and you felt as if you were shouting at the poor puppy. Except that this puppy was much taller than you and probably weighed twice your weight.
With a sigh, you fell back on the mattress and covered your face with an arm. "Sorry, I'm not mad. Just… surprised. I didn't expect you would come up my ship."
He tried to roll closer, but the space was too small to allow him any other movements than going back and forth from the entrance to your mattress. So he stayed in place, trying to observe the expression on your face.
"I can't see you like that," he noted.
Another thing you've learnt about his species was how important contact and intimacy are. Not even sexual ones, but rather a simple need to always be with someone. To communicate while looking right into their eyes, to feel their skin on theirs, and to follow the movements of their lips. To feel the presence of another creature next to them, even if the only thing you did was sleep next to each other.
So another sorry slipped past your lips, and you sat again, showing Satoru your face. He slightly lightened up before pressing a hand to the crystal ball.
"You said, and I quote, I would love to invite you to my ship," he noted with utmost seriousness, and you rolled your eyes. "So I came."
Well, he was right. You did say that, and you did wish there were a way to bring him into your ship. Travelling together would be much easier if both of you were on one ship, so amidst the pure chaos and shock he caused, you quite enjoyed the fact that he could live here.
With you.
"Okay," your hand pressed to the ball, filling half of his palm. "But we need to set up some rules first. First, we don't sleep in the same bedroom–"
"But I must watch–"
"Satoru," you interrupted him, seeing the pale eyes slip into the sorrowfulness. "You have excellent hearing and even more excellent sight. I'm sure you can watch me sleep while staying next door." A grim twisted his face, and a low mumble filled his little bubble. Too quiet for the translator to catch, so you chuckled sweetly, seeing his brattiness surface. "Okay. The second rule – you can't sniff my panties. It's something… reserved only for mates."
And, well, if that didn't fire him up – with eyes suddenly beaming in excitement and droplets twinkling one by one, like a tiny mingling stars. You felt as if you had challenged him, and thus quickly added. "And because we are not mates, you cannot do it. It's too intimate."
"I want to be intimate."
A sudden flush hit your cheeks, and warmth spread beneath your chest. "No, Satoru, you don't understand. It's about sexual intimacy. Something you share while…" saying it out loud felt like giving a biology lesson to elementary school kids. "Mating… with your special someone. When you, well, have sex and stuff. Do you know–"
He chuckled low, a sly smile lifting his lips. "I know what mating is."
Something in your lower belly bubbled, seeing him like that. Tall and strong, spreading a slightly possessive and dominating aura. With eyes full of bratty cheekiness and something, something, slightly sensual dripping from his voice.
"Well, so you know that we can't do it," You moved back, taking your palm away from the crystal ball. "Let's work on our plan and try to find a way to save the world."
And with a slight dissatisfaction, Satoru finally agreed.
But the next months spent in his presence were… interesting. To say at least.
Every day brought new surprises, which sometimes ended with your body blushing from head to toes, sometimes him getting shy and flustered, while still trying to keep up the cocky demeanour.
He was nothing less than excellent when it came to engineering and helping with the travel itself, also being an amazing companion for the long, daring journey.
Soon he resigned from constant stay in a ball and filled the interior of your spaceship with long corridors of crystal, making himself at home. Whenever you were – he was right next. Be it a bedroom, control room, kitchen or…
"Satoru!" You quickly covered your breasts with your hands, seeing him walking into the bathroom with the most casual demeanour.
A plate of some weird substance, he was always eating for supper, and a white suit half unzipped, showing off his muscular, blue chest. He leaned against the door, spectral eyes slowly following your naked body. From legs up to hips, staying longer on the gentle swell of your ass and the mould of your pussy, before going up, and up, to the breasts covered by your trembling fingers. "Sweetheart is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen."
"Sweetheart" because he really wished to call you something human pairs use for each other. Even though at least three times a week, you needed to remind him that you, in fact, were not a pair.
A muffled, surprised scoff escaped your lips. You pointed to the exit with one hand, forgetting it was clutching one of your breasts. When the silky swell smoothly slipped from your grasp, bouncing gently before his eyes, he moved closer, already pushing a finger through the stretching wall.
"Can I–"
You smacked it, once again showing the exit. "Satoru! You can't walk on me while I'm naked."
"Why, question?" he asked, relentlessly trying to get closer to your body. With a finger poking the wall, that unfortunately couldn't stretch enough to even brush your skin. "Come a bit closer."
Something in your belly bubbled, warmth spread across your chest, and a single, dirty thought of letting him touch you bloomed in your mind. After all, sexual needs and anatomy were among the things all researchers wished to know about foreign species. And because Satoru was of the same, curious kind as you…
"It's too early, out!"
His head tilted, and lips curved into a foxy smile. "It's eight in the evening."
"No, I mean, we're not close enough to do such stuff."
He knocked on the crystal wall. "Sweetheart, but I can't get closer."
Oh god.
You sighed, finally letting the other tit bounce softly too. Leaning against the small shelf, you glanced at him with a frown. He, however, looked anywhere but into your eyes. Rude.
"Our relationship is not on that level…" yet. "What you want to do is too intimate. Sexual." And then, a sudden curiosity spiked your mind. "Satoru, how does the… mate thing look like among your species?"
His eyes finally slipped up to yours. "We choose one mate for a whole life."
Well, that was rather clear.
"What about the, you know…" You gestured awkwardly, partially at your still naked body.
"The mating," he finished. But as if feeling the spike in your curiosity, with round eyes ogling his naked chest and slipping shyly towards his hips, he bubbled a low chuckle. "Come closer, and I will show you."
What a brat!
With the last tsk and a dirty look shot his way, you turned back towards the mirror and finished your quick, morning "shower". Even while using rinseless soap and water pouches to clean your body, you still felt Satoru's presence behind you.
Deep blue eyes following the curve of your body, back muscles working beneath the soft skin, and when you bent over to rinse your face, a sudden, sharp breath escaped his throat.
You didn't have to look back to know that he was looking straight at your pussy.
"It's wet," he mumbled, coming closer. And closer, until his finger once again tried to evade the stretching wall, too short to even brush the swell of your ass.
You hummed, trying to hide an embarrassed warmth kissing your neck. "It's a natural lubrication. It usually happens when a woman is…" oh fuck it. "Excited."
He seemed charmed, completely bewitched, and some part of you wished the temperature between your bodies wasn't over two hundred degrees Celsius. As the moment Satoru's hands touched your skin, you weren't sure whether calling it the third burn would be enough.
"Why is sweetheart excited, question?"
With your body leaning forward and hands resting on the shelf, you looked back, eyes slightly hazy, wetness dripping down your thigh. A silken droplet swirled down your leg, and Satoru's always oh-so-attentive eyes, of course didn't miss it.
"I want the taste," he mumbled, and only then did you notice a bulge, trying to rip free from beneath the white spacesuit covering his hips.
You took a deep breath, bending yourself lower and lower, till he could clearly see your cunt shining with silky wetness.
"I'm excited," you started, voice dripping with sensuality. "Because of you."
As if awaiting this exact answer, his eyes, for just a second, ripped themselves away from your soft pussy and looked up. To cross with yours – slightly teary, a bit too warm.
"I want to–"
You turned around, once again leaning against the shelf. A low groan escaped his throat, as he no longer could see your pussy in its fullness. The little pout twisting his lips made you giggle, but a tricky, dirty thought has slipped into your mind.
"How about this?" You took a step, then another, until you stood right in front of him. Much closer than before, but not close enough to let him brush your skin. "I will let you touch me. Watch me…" You coughed, feeling this wind of bravery leave your body as quickly as it had come. "Masturbate. And you'll let me do it too."
Satoru's lips fell open, eyes sparkled in excitement. "I thought the intimacy was only for mates. Are we mates then, question?"
"Let's call it friend with benefits."
His eyes narrowed. "We don't do such things with friends."
You scoffed, pushing your hip to the side and biting the inside of your cheek. "Well, we do, so you can either accept it or not."
And seeing that this time his bratty stubbornness wouldn't work, Satoru nodded.
A few minutes later, you found yourself in the most embarrassed, going-straight-to-the-grave position you could imagine. With elbows supporting your body on the bedroom's mattress, legs spread open, and pussy pressed against the crystal wall. The slippery juices coated the surface, making Satoru breathe much, much harder than before. With fingers wrapped around the biggest, most monstrous cock you've ever seen.
You needed a moment to take in the sight that sprang up in front of your eyes after he took off the rest of the suit. Massive, veiny shaft, with a swelled protrusion at his base, probably used while mating. The blue skin was peppered with similar droplets sprinkled on his cheeks, and shimmered faintly whenever he looked down at your cunt.
Small and fluttering, with your hole squeezing around nothing and clit swelled from excitement.
The penetrative gaze of his made you warm up even more. "Satoru, touch me," slipped like an order.
His long finger brushed the crystal wall and pushed – gently, carefully, till he felt a soft button under his pad and heard a low moan escape your lips.
He dreamed of feeling the gummy structure of your pussy. To roll the clit between his fingers, without any surface protecting his body. To lower himself down and smell, lick, taste the dripping cum that in his mind was sweeter than anything he had ever tried.
And it should be noted that he had quite refined taste buds.
His other hand pumped his massive cock in slow strokes, enjoying the sight spreading in front of him much more than the feeling of his fingers wrapped around the dripping shaft.
"Does it feel good, question?" He asked, hearing another moan fill the small bedroom.
"Y-yeah, ahh, try to make gentle circles," slipped faintly, as you started to roll nipples between your fingers.
His thumb pressed against your clit harder, making your feet curl and legs spread even wider. As if trying to invite his massive cock, that would surely rip you in half.
Maybe the fact that you couldn't touch each other wasn't that bad. Because if he somehow found a way to fuck you with this size, you sure would feel it up in your throat.
And thus you enjoyed the sight spreading in front of your eyes – his beefy thighs bulging whenever you jolted under his thumb, pearly cum dripping down the blue skin, long fingers squeezing the veiny meat as he still oh-so-carefully rubbed your clit.
"It's getting wetter," he noticed, biting the inside of his cheek. "I want to taste you."
His low voice made your body melt under his fingers, forcing your thighs to spread wider and wider, while chasing the pleasure bubbling in your belly. Your hole fluttered around nothing, and a sheer sight of his cock spun your mind in crazy wish to get yourself stretched around it. To feel every vein scratch your tight walls, till the drenched head would kiss your swelling womb.
"Fuck, wait, I have an idea," you backed out, crawling towards your bag.
Crazy, stupid, nasty plan slipped into your head, as you took out a mid-size, creamy dildo. With a sucking pad at the end, and a slightly curved head. It wasn't yours, as you somehow found it among the things… oh well, does it really matter? It was clean and had been bathed in antiseptic spray multiple times; thus, using it was not disgusting at all.
But when Satoru saw it, his breath hitched. Eyes slipped down to his cock, and forehead furrowed. "Why is it so small, question?"
You chuckled, sticking it to the crystal wall. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but that's the average size of a human's dick."
He followed your body as you once again spread your legs open and brushed the silicone cock through your folds a few times. Drenching it all in your juices, and Satoru, since learning the meaning of jealousy, felt something unpleasant bubble in his heart. Because he wished to be the one making your pussy flutter around his head and push it inside, till your sugary walls would clamp around his fat cock.
Your forehead furrowed, eyes glistened from prickling tears as his thumb once again landed on your clit. But this time, the pleasure was twice as intense. With a silicone dick stretching your tight pussy and his finger rubbing you in slow, maddening circles.
"I could make you feel better," he groaned, hearing another pitched moan slip past your lips. "This pathetic thing is now worthy to be inside my sweetheart."
With rising irritation, he pressed your clit harsher. Till a tremble washed over your body and back hit the mattress, as you rolled your cunt to feel the dildo go deeper. But Satoru was right – his cock would indeed make you feel better.
Your hands slipped up to your breasts, pinching the hard buds and chasing the maddening pleasure bubbling in your lower belly.
A deep frown creased Satoru's forehead, and he gently squeezed your clit. "I can't see your face."
"R-right, sorry–ahhh," A cry rolled off your tongue as you once again leaned on your elbows. "Satoru, it feels so good, mhmm."
His cock was more flushed than before, with a cherry tip spilling the heavy, thick droplets all over his hand. He pumped it madly, never once taking his eyes off your lovely face. With pleasure twisting your brows and teary eyes fixed upon his.
"S-Satoru, I, fuck, I'm going to cum," the silicone cock kissed your cervix, smooching it wetly with hefty, gluey cum sipping from your hole.
You tried to imagine getting split open on his cock. Being filled by his cum, with creamy saps stuffing your swelling womb and pumping your belly full. Getting manhandled by his muscular arms and wide back, as he would fold you into a mating press and push into the mattress. Till each and every spring would painfully dig into your spine.
So with a final cry, you came.
With a loud cry, spine arching into the sweetest curve, and a sprinkling of sweetness gushing all over his thumb, although it was a true pity that he couldn't feel it. Your body trembled and lips fell open, seeing a furrow cloud his forehead and fingers tightening around his cock.
And then, an idea slipped quietly into your mind.
"Wait a minute, don't cum yet," you muttered, taking a pair of panties lying on your bed. With a single, dirty move, you rubbed them against your drenched folds, gathering all the creamy cum and honeyed sweetness.
Satoru… dear heavens.
When a flimsy material landed inside the shelf, quite similar to the one he installed in a tunnel, Satoru's fingers snapped forward and snatched it. He brought it closer to his nose, lips, feeling your precious wetness and the rich flavour burst right onto his tongue, as a low, primal groan escaped his throat.
"Mhmm, s-so, ahh, tastes so sweet," a muffled cry was almost incomprehensible with your panties filling his mouth.
The head of his cock pulsed, massive balls constricted whenever his tongue took another lick of your fresh cum and eyes… oh, eyes stayed on you.
On your breasts coated in sheer sweat, thighs still spread open and a little, minx smile twisting your lips. Satoru was sure he could cum only at the sheer sight of your angelic face, and thus, after a few more harsh pumps and muffled cries, he came. Loud and heavy, with creamy ropes shooting all over his glimmering skin and fully emptying everything he has been keeping far too long.
What a waste, you both thought, wishing it landed somewhere far, far sweeter and warmer. Deep inside your womb, preferably.
A moment has passed, with a small bedroom filled with your heavy breaths and shy glances, looking everywhere but at your cum-coated bodies. With a faint cough, you finally closed your thighs and covered yourself with a blanket.
Blooming loveliness crept up your cheeks, and suddenly looking at Satoru required far more courage and calm than it had merely thirty minutes ago.
Before you could ask whether he needed a towel, his low voice spoke first. "Are we mates now, question?"
He said sheepishly, lifting your panties with a finger.
You groaned and fell on a mattress with his chuckle tickling your burning ears.
You didn't want to destroy this moment, even though you knew your mission would end with you dying in space. That he would go back to his planet safely, while you would float and float and float, while eventually dying of hunger.
And so, sharing this sweet moment of intimacy, with warmth spreading beneath your chest, you nodded. "Yes, Satoru. Let's become mates."
𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖
The next few months were filled with nothing but joy.
With movies playing on repeat in the small, cinematic room, Satoru watches each of them with his lips agape. Enjoying the landscapes of Earth, you could project them into a closed space, with a blue sky spreading across the ceiling and tall Scottish plains stretching beneath your feet.
With the golden sand of Thai beaches shimmering in the sun and coconuts falling from the palms, the chirping of birds perched high in the lush trees of the Amazon Forest, and the endless plains of the Sahara Desert.
When you joked that the three pyramids in Giza you were just looking at were believed to have been built by aliens, he only hummed and nodded as if in agreement. A scoff rolled off your tongue, and his head snapped towards you.
"Why are you nodding? Of course they weren't!"
Plush, bluish lips curved in a sly smile. "Is sweetheart sure, question? It looks like something we have on our planet."
An unbelievable shock crossed your face as you stared at him, speechless. "No, you don't!"
"Yes, we do."
"You're fucking with me."
His head tilted. "I thought we can't fuck."
You rolled your eyes, resting your head against his shoulder. Or at least against the crystal surface he was pressed against. "Forget it."
"I can't, my memory is excellent."
And that was indeed true, as Satoru seemed to remember every single thing you said or did over the past few months. The plan you devised to obtain a sample of the planet's atmospheric gas to discover why it was immune to deadly microbes was etched into his mind with meticulous precision.
Truly mesmerising creature he was, especially as he also remembered which buttons to push, to make you cum faster.
What you had also discovered was that Satoru loved to talk about your future.
Particularly during the late nights, when you were curled up under the warm blanket, lying on a mattress in a dimly lit room, with him cuddled up against your side.
He couldn't brush your soft cheek pressed against the wall, but it was fine.
For the look of your lovely face, he watched with warmth blooming in his chest, was enough.
On such nights, when both of you longed for each other's warmth, he enjoyed dreaming. Of you returning with him to his planet, building you a small, private island with oxygen, and fulfilling all your wishes. You teaching the children of his species physics – as you did on Earth – and him continuing to serve as the most valued engineer on his planet.
Of you and him living together in a small seaside cottage, spending days loving each other and lying on the soft beach till darkness would spill over the ocean's horizon – the only his planet had, the one he was ready to fully give into your hands. Having sex all day and night, to which you responded with a sweet, faint giggle, as sleep slowly slipped into your eyes.
"And how would we do it, hm?" you mumbled, pressing against the crystal wall.
A soft furrow haunted your forehead, and he imagined calming it with a gentle roll of his thumb. "The atmosphere of my planet allows us to use a special technique," through the glass wall, he traced the curve of your lips. "It wraps my body in a thin barrier, but I would be able to touch you," soft lips touched to the point where your nose pressed. "And kiss you. And hug you, make love with you, although we wouldn't have children."
You understood why and giggled softly, slowly opening your sleepy eyes to meet the endless, pale blue. "You really want to get even closer, huh?"
It was a joke, and yet a warmth bloomed behind his spectral eyes, forcing your heart to skip a beat. His hand pressed to the part where your chest met the wall, before he leaned his forehead against "yours". "If I could, I would make you live inside me. So nothing in this universe would ever rip us apart."
A faint oh rolled past your lips as you bit on the soft inside of your cheek. "Satoru, I don't know how long your species live, but… I don't have as much time as you think."
A sudden panic swelled behind his eyes, and thumb slipped out of the crystal wall to brush your lower lip. "My best friends have been mates for the past hundred and sixty years. How many can you give me, question?"
Something ripped through your heart. Cut it with painful slashes, till a crease on your forehead deepened. "Not a lot, Satoru. Maybe seventy years?"
His thumb paused, an ache spreading across the vast, pale blue plains. "I've lived three hundred years without you," he said, warm lips pressing into the wrinkle between your "brows". "I won't survive another seventy."
But the endless honeymoon couldn't last long.
For there was a reason why both of you found yourselves in space. Why the mission was tagged as suicidal, and why there wasn't enough fuel to get you back to Earth. And while Satoru's dreams indeed sounded tempting, you knew that it simply wouldn't work out.
For you breathed oxygen, and he needed ammonia gas.
Your body stayed cool at thirty-six degrees Celsius, while his was burning up to over two hundred.
He was three hundred years old – you twenty-seven.
But he didn't have to know all of that. Over the past twenty-seven years, no one had made you laugh, enjoy, and love life as much as he did. Even if those brief moments of happiness were only meant to last a few months, they were enough.
After the mission, he could go back safely to his home, and you… well.
And you would need to watch him die.
It was truly unpredictable, and none of you could foresee how the situation would turn out. You finally arrived on the planet, prepared to collect the necessary samples of the antidote. You didn't know, however, how dense its atmosphere would be.
How the wind would violently hit your ship, tossing it sharply left and right as you stepped outside in your spacesuit and carried Satoru's sampling device back onto the ship.
He told you to leave it. When you almost fell off the ship, he begged you to come inside. Hit the wall with hands, screamed right into the speaker inside your helmet, pleaded to leave the sample and just come back.
But you simply couldn't do it. Because leaving it here, after Satoru spent decades in space trying to seek the solution, would be simply foolish. Egoistic, and thus, after a few harsh currents, you grabbed the box filled with antidote cells and went back to the ship.
But then, it started spinning. And spinning and spinning, wish wind smacking it in violent currents, and you found it almost impossible to get back onto the normal route. Every single light inside the control room shimmered red. Satoru tried to calm you down, but there was nothing he could truly do from behind the glass wall.
You pushed and flickered every button, every controller, but after one sudden, brutal tug of the ship, your face hit the console.
Eyes filled with red, a nasty crack came from the nose, and the gaze became a bit hazy. You tried to push one last button that would help the ship get away from the planet's strong current, but you were simply too weak. With blood slowly covering your whole face and belts still pinning you to the chair.
Satoru shouted something, but you couldn't hear him clearly. Was it because of the red lamps and an alarm filling the control room? Or maybe because of the sudden sleepiness that blanketed your eyelids?
His fists hit the glass wall, spreading the dull echo around the control room. A soft sweetheart sweetheart sweetheart rolled past his lips, but you simply had no energy to look up. As if you did, the sigh of his trembling, panicked face would rip your heart apart.
His large fists wanted to break through the wall, eyes looked at the blood dripping down your face, body filled with helplessness and desperation, trying everything in his power to get close to you.
With a single finger, you still strained to push that last red button. To get the ship back on track, at least allow Satoru to be safe, and finish the mission that would help save his planet. But your body couldn't handle the gravitational force caused by the spin, which pressed you into the console. The slow crushing of your lungs, mind filling with fogginess, throat crushed beneath the flickering buttons.
So with a soft, almost inaudible I'm sorry, your eyes closed.
A second has passed, a minute, with mind registering the crying alarm and… and a shatter of glass.
A sudden pain washed over your body – burning and stinging every nerve. Someone lifted you up, carefully, slowly, trying to wrap you in blankets and clothes, anything to keep you from the lethal touch.
Quiet, you'll live, sweetheart will live, sweetheart, sweetheart, keep your eyes open, amid violent waves of coughing and painful moans, filled the corridors of your spaceship. When your eyes opened a little, you saw nothing but thick steam evaporating from something.
Someone.
"Satoru?" slipped out in a whisper as, from beneath the curling steam, a blue, familiar face looked down at you, wet-cheeked. "Satoru, no, y-you'll die–"
"Shhh, sweetheart, it's okay, it's okay, sweetheart will live," he repeated like a mantra, hugging your wrapped body closer to his.
Fiery skin burned through the thick layers of blankets, leaving burns all over your bloodstained skin. Your body hit something, and before you noticed, an automated medical care robot soon filled your vision. The mechanical arms pressed the oxygen mask to your face before an IV needle slipped beneath the skin of your arm.
"Satoru," you mumbled weakly, trying to find those familiar, pale eyes.
And he was right there, offering you the most painful, heart-tearing sight. Tears ran down his cheeks, white steam curled tortuously from his body, and gaze slowly grew weaker. He could barely breathe, yet still stood right there.
Over your barely warm body, making sure that you would live.
"I watch you–"
"No, S-Satoru," barely pushed through your squeezed throat. With crystal tears swirling in your eyes and fingers trying to push him away from the table. "Go back, p-please, or–"
"No, I watch you sleep." his fingers grabbed the hem of your shirt. "You won't die".
You were too weak to fight him. In too much pain, with your head pounding, skin burning from his touch and anaesthesia slowly kicking in.
And so, with a last look into the eyes your heart laughed for, you fell asleep.
There was no way to tell how much time had passed. How long you stayed under the mechanical clutches of the medical robot.
How long Satoru needed to suffer, to make sure you would be alive.
But when you finally woke up and ripped yourself away from the needles, he wasn't there.
He wasn't in your sight, but something else, something burned, marked the floor. Dark traces of blue dust led further inside the spaceship. Still weak, with the last traces of blood dried on your cheek, you followed them, your heart pounding. And a little grain of foolish hope bloomed inside your heart, fresh tears already swirling in the corners of eyes.
The ship was back on a normal route, carrying you through the galaxy at a slow, peaceful pace. Thanks to Satoru.
The blue dust led you through the control room, down into the basement, kitchen, bathroom, and finally to the bedroom, as if he tried to, for the last time, see every part of the ship. Just to make sure everything was working. That after waking up, you wouldn't have to bother yourself with anything.
And so another wave of crushing sob bubbled in your throat. A pain ripping you open as you entered your shared bedroom and saw him there – curled on the mattress, the upper part of his body already slipped inside his crystal corridor. As if he didn't have the strength to crawl in fully. Too busy watching you sleep.
"Oh, Satoru," a cry finally escaped your throat, as your knees bent beside his body. "You fool, so stupid, you're–oh!" A hysterical lament filled the small bedroom as you touched his cold body. "Satoru, how c-could you leave me alone?"
Face, always beaming with so much warmth and joy, lay in dead silence. With your loving, blue eyes closed behind the curtain of white lashes and lips more pale than usual.
Gathering every last ounce of strength still boiling in your body, you brought his ball back. In such a tight, ammonia-filled space, the chance of his recovery was much higher.
Opening it was almost impossible, so you cut a hole big enough to, with pain ripping through your muscles and sweat dripping down your spine, somehow push him inside. And then you glued the walls tight, with a prayer dripping off your lips, and your body cuddled into his crystal ball.
"I'll watch you sleep," you whispered, brushing the surface with his pressed cheek. "You won't die."
𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖
The sun spilling through the curtain tickled your cheeks. The chirping of birds made you sigh deeply, and the gentle sea breeze coated your skin with soft kisses. The shoulder, the soft line of the spine, the slightly sweating neck, with a salty fragrance slipping sweetly into your nostrils.
You tried to stretch, waking up your stiff body from a deep slumber, but something locked you in place.
Something heavy and long, curling around your waist and pulling you closer to another stony wall.
Or, maybe you should say, stony chest.
Looking over your shoulder, you've met with a cheeky smile curling your husband's lips and still-sleepy, pale eyes. He pulled you closer, until your head found itself under his chin and your legs entangled with his.
"Good morning," you giggled, turning in his arms. "Did you sleep well?"
Satoru hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The thin barrier wrapping his body glimmered under the spilling sunlight. After years on his planet, you no longer needed a translator to understand his language. And so you kissed his blue neck, tracing the kisses up, and up, along his jaw and chin, until finally locking your lips with his.
"Apologies, I didn't watch you sleep."
You chuckled, biting gently on his lower lip. "Were you that tired after last night?"
"Mmm," a soft, satisfied hum escaped his throat when you felt something hard poking your belly. "Forgive your husband, he didn't realise he had a tigress and no wife at home."
You chuckled sweetly, forcing his lips to curl in a sly smile.
"Does my wife need anything? Do you want Suguru to lower the temperature?"
Tracing the sharpness of his jaw, up to the curve of his lips, your head shook. "No, it's warm enough. Maybe you can ask him to lower the birds' chirping a bit. I think they're a bit louder than yesterday."
He nodded, pulling you even closer. Till your bodies tangled in one, and a slow, peaceful pounding of his heart beat against your breasts. "Mhm, sure. But let's sleep a bit longer, and then you can jump on me as much as you want, hm?"
So with the last, soft kiss between your brows and heart swelling from feeling the heaviness of your body on his, Satoru allowed you to cuddle into his muscular chest and watch him slowly slip into a deep slumber.
if your friends saw the giddiness on your face everytime the mailman came around, they would think you had some kind of hot fling or sugar daddy overseas. but instead you’re stuck with a 30 year old penpal, that’s been locked up for god knows how long, who also happens to have a big dick if the polaroids you’re looking at are actually his.
what started as a drunk joke turned into you submitting a request for a penpal through your city’s local prison. when the men have been deemed “well” and on good behavior, they have a chance to be paired with a pen pal in the outside world. a chance for them to gain social interaction outside of the gray four walls they’re stuck behind.
it must’ve been fate is all that runs through your mind when you read the welcome email. you don’t know what deity to thank but the picture of your penpal that greets you at the end of the message is enough to have you clenching your thighs.
the low lidded look he gives the camera, shaggy hair that’s turned every which way, even the scar that graces his lips as they’re quirked up into a smirk. you’re not sure what he’s in the hammer for, but it has your considering a bail.
the messages between you both started off really tame, greetings between you two. conversations about your college days, what hobbies you do to pass time. it wasn't until the 2 month mark that his tone became something short of horny.
“what’re you wearing everytime you write to me, sweetheart? you get all dolled up for me in some lace? take a pic next time, let me see”
“seems like you’ve had a rough week. bet my fingers could help a bit.”
and it’s been back and forth since then. you’re not one to shy away from his advances either. in fact, you encourage it. comments about his big arms carrying you all over the room. how badly you want to run your nails down his muscular back. it’s borderline sexting and you sometimes feel bad for the correction officer that has to read through it for legal reasons before sending it over to toji.
is it embarrassing to admit that you look forward to getting mail from an older man in jail? possibly. is it embarrassing to admit that you’ve touched yourself to his words and pics more than once? maybe but the orgasm that comes with it is enough to have you forgetting the embarrassment. he’s mentioned his cell mate, sukuna got access to a polaroid and has been using it for the last few notes.
around valentines day, he sent one of himself holding a rose he made completely out of paper. a way for him to pass time, and then pop-up heart with your name written in cursive. his jumpsuit was zipped down to his hips, showcasing the black tank top stretched over the expanse of his chest. it left little the imagination and had you thinking of what it would feel like to have those muscles under the palm of your hand.
your heart clenched at the sweet gesture and a few days later the say paper crafts showed up at your front door. the only way to say thanks has to be to send something back right? all it took was a few moments to get over the nerves and you're posing in front of your mirror with a matching polaroid camera. the lace accentuates your curves, one hand holding the origami rose and the other pushing up your chest to really give him something to look at.
a pink enveloped sealed with a kiss left by red lipstick greeted toji in his mail box. he could care less about the looks he gained everytime he was in a rush back to his cell the moment the letter hit his hands. you've been the only thing keeping him sane throughout his time here and he'd be damned if he let any note by you go unappreciated. it's why he has a small box tucked under his bunker with all the keepsakes you've sent him. the poem of a new book you picked up, wrappers from some candies you've sent him. he might e grasping at straws here, but he continues to count down the days until he can get out and finally meet his sweet girl.
it's why he's been extra good lately. keeping his mouth shut when a guard looks at him a certain way. doing his chores without a complaint. he's been so calm and collected, his roommate has been looking at him a bit confused wondering if the older man is coming down with something. but his correctional guard, shiu knows the real reason behind his most recent behavior. toji’s been begging the man for 30 minutes in a secluded room with you.
with the heightened security, shiu can’t promise 30 minutes alone with you in a room, but what he can promise is toji having access to his computer 30 minutes for a video call. this would be the first time you hear eachothers voice, see eachother live outside of a cheap polaroid. you both are grasping at straws at this point so with little convincing from you both, the plan is set.
you've changed your makeup three times already, made sure the bra you're wearing pushes up your tits just right, and have adjusted your hair more times than you can count as you wait for the clock to hit 6. this is your first time talking to each other, and it's safe to say you're really nervous. you just want to make sure you look really good. the last letter he sent explained the whole arrangement and he even ended it with
"can't wait to see your pretty face, baby. maybe i can see your fingers stuffing your pussy too"
and you've been on edge since.
your laptop chimes with a ding to indicate someone joined the video call, and in the few seconds it takes to collect yourself, you hear his gruff voice.
"hey, you there?"
as if every negative thought and anxiety inducing scenario you could think of, dissipates, you find a smile gracing your lips before you turn your camera on too and nod.
"hi, toji"
his low lidded eyes seem to be assessing everything about you. your hair, your lips, the little lacy number you put on for him. it becomes very obvious that he likes what he sees when a groan vibrates through your laptop speaker.
"you look so pretty, baby. got all dressed up for me huh?" his lips quirk up as he sees the quick effect he has on you. a shy smile gracing your lips before you glance up into the camera. one hand cups your chest as the other runs up and down the strap.
" 'course i did, toji. had to make sure this call was real special. know all the trouble you went through for this." as if a switch has flipped, your voice slowly turns sultry. you'll be damned if you let an opportunity go to waste, and if you're being honest with yourself, you really wanna see if his dick is just THAT big. ideally it would be in person but beggars can't be choosers, so without a second thought, you find yourself asking a question.
"i know you've been real pent up lately, yeah? why don't you let me finally help you out 'ji. maybe show you how nice my tits looks under this" slowly teasing the bra down your shoulders, making sure to run your nails along the curve of your chest.
"or maybe show you just how wet you get me" as you let the bra drop down to the sheets, pushing the matching panties to the side. you've been soaked since you've gotten dressed. the anticipation of seeing him, and thinking of all the nights you've cum just to the thought of him.
"aren't you so thoughtful, sweetheart?"
his jaded eyes have gone dark, he was really going to let you set the speed of the call, not knowing how far you wanted to go, but this is a wet dream come true. his dick hasn't been this hard in ages and as he watches you put the lacy garment to the side and reveal yourself to him, he can't help the groan that leaves his throat.
a heavy hand landing on his bulge as he squeezes himself through the orange jumpsuit.
"been dreaming about your dick, toji. how good it tastes" he feels mesmerized as he watches you bring your fingers into your mouth, lathering the digits with spit, before trailing them down your stomach. "and how full it'll make me feel" slowly pushing your fingers in.
he's quick to let his dick out of the confines of his underwear. a wad of spit dribbles out of his mouth, landing on the tip before he starts a jerky movement to match your pace.
wet squelches fill both speakers. if anyone walked by the office he was currently occupying, it would be obvious what was going on behind the door but you both were too far gone to even care. all the shared words, and pics these last few months have had led to so many pent up emotions. it’s a miracle you both didn’t just cum at the sight of eachother.
there’s not much thoughts running through your mind other than the fact that you’re about to cum from the sight of him so disheveled. his dick is just as big as the pictures made it seem, and paired with the sounds his making is enough to have you whining.
“fuck, keep making those sounds” he gets out through gritted teeth. you both are close if the fucked out look on your faces say anything.
“to-ah toji, im gonna cum, ah- ” is all you let out as your walls tighten around your fingers. the aftershocks of your orgasm hitting you as you watch thick spurts of toji’s cum coat parts of the screen.
as you both come down from your highs, heavy panting fills the room before his voice filters through the laptop.
“needed that real bad, baby. thank you” the giggle you let out makes this all worth it as he finds himself smiling at the sound.
even if he’ll have to pay shiu back for ruining his webcam with his load.
a/n: hey, hi, hello….. it’s been a min. sorry if this seems rushed <\3 i’ve missed you guys and just wanted to get something out!! not proofread as always…
God of the Dead was always alone. With the coldness weighing his heart and the stench of gastly doom clinging to his skin. But then, one day, the world under his feet shifted. Heart bloomed with bizarre fondness. And the Lord of the Underworld soon started to wish for nothing but to taste Spring Goddess's sweetness every single day. Even if he were to accomplish it by force.
requ ested (pray forgive me for waiting so long)
included in Tales, Myths, Romances
pairings: Hades!Trueform Sukuna x Persephone!Reader
content/warnings: greek mythology au, mythologically accurate, possessive behaviour, slightly dark romance, kidnapping, devotion, obsession, heavy smut, Sukuna is his own warning, proper use of belly mouth, double penetration, belly bulges, mating press, oral sex (both), facesitting, yearning, symbolism, Cerberus is just a baby, pussydrunk Sukuna, he's down bad, but he's also toxic
WC: 13.7k (the visions have plagued me)
a/n: I think we all know the story of Hades and Persephone, so this time there's no need for a history lesson! I just hope you'll like it because I had lots of fun writing it! And thank you, dearest anons, for the request <3
divider by @/diviniye
art by @/phantomosis on x
It was a universal truth that opposites attract.
Knowledge older than the Gods themselves.
Carved in marble and rivers, bending under the Greek sun in crystal serpentine. Crossing the lands, fields and meadows, with single droplets caressed by nymphs and fair birdies playing in the calm waters.
Everyone knew that opposites work together.
Everyone could look up and see the sun and the moon frolicking in the same sky. Brush their feet against the hard, stony paths covering the mountains, and yet see little snippets of flowers breaking through the surface. To experience sadness and joy, two contradictory feelings, yet impossible to exist without each other.
Everyone could enjoy the sharp breeze from the thunderstorms, preceded by the sizzling warmth coating their sweating skin.
Everyone knew the night had no meaning without a day. That spring couldn't exist without a death.
Everyone knew it.
Or did they?
Or was it maybe something that one, love-possessed God simply wished to believe in? That opposites could attract even in the most impossible-to-imagine scenarios.
It's not that the Gods of Olympus weren't paired in a rather bizarre manner. For there was a beauty of Aphrodite who cherished the brute God of War dearly. Zeus and Hera, so different and yet ruling over the divine world. And also Dionysus, who haunted by love towards a mortal, made her a goddess.
And yet, Lord Hades couldn't shake off the feeling that his love was plagued by a tragedy from the very beginning.
As how could it be that the Lord of the Underworld's heart, after thousands of years of being burdened by coldness, suddenly bloomed with restless warmth?
With a feeling so unknown and strange, his hand rested on his chest as if in desire to breeze the burning skin up. Long fingers tried to grab the muscle and tear the rosy flesh that separated him from it. But even the God of Death couldn't stop the lovely beating of his heart and mind tormented solely by a thought of… you.
It happened on a sunny day, when, usually hidden in the depths of hell, the Lord of the Underworld decided to take a stroll. Around the spring meadows, with the air carrying the flowery scent of blooming nature. So strange and bizarre, never floating around the endless plains of his domain.
He didn't show his face often up there, as God of the Dead was much, much busier than one could think! Humans were weak, reckless, dying like flies and flooding the Underworld with their restless souls.
Heron crossed the Styx like a madman, and Cerberus couldn't close his eyes even for a second, as the hell was a mad and troubled place.
But then, that one day when the sunlight finally blessed his crimson eyes, Hades, or Sukuna as he much rather preferred, could finally pleasure himself in breathing the air not stained by a musty smell of death.
Each of his steps left the lush grass withered, and the air bent under the heaviness of his aura. Birds would fall silent whenever the God of the Dead passed through the trees they sat in, as if in fear of being taken by the Grim Reaper too soon. Fruits hanging off the branches would suddenly fall rotten, not allowing God to taste the sweetness of their pristine juices.
As there was no sweetness or warmth in Sukuna's life and it had been a long time since he learned how to live with it. For why would anyone care about the wellness of the Lord of the Underworld himself?
And so the world withered and shattered around him, but God truly didn't mind.
Until he saw you, the Goddess of Spring.
Beautiful, alive, with sun smooching your laughing cheeks and eyes curving under the golden rays. Little flowers were tucked in your hair sweetly, and single strands framed your face heartily. Sukuna enjoyed looking at blooming plants, although they quickly withered under his bloody gaze.
But not you.
You quickly became his most dearest petal, with loose, light robes always in a riot of pastel hues and lovely laughter carried by spring winds through the vast meadows. Bare feet ran through the fields of flowers without any worries, and eyes always glanced somewhere over the horizon. Somewhere, towards the seas and trees and frolic nymphs playing near the rivers. Fingers weaved wreaths one by one, and a cooing voice helped the flowers grow and blossom beautifully.
Your robes were always slightly dirty from the earth, warm cheeks marked by pollen, eyes bustling with warmth and kindness, that touched every plant, every animal that cuddled into your open arms.
He usually lurked among the trees. Tall, broody, with a massive body covered by dark robes and a grim aura clinging to his skin. Four arms crossed on a wide chest and two pairs of eyes fixated on a young Goddess frolicking with her friends.
Soon, he started coming more often.
The usual workaholic, a gloomy God who liked nothing and no one, a brute, as some liked to call him, suddenly found something that started haunting his mind. His dreams and nightmares, as even there, you always seemed to smooch his cheeks like a soft petal.
There, you always seemed to be his.
His lovely, dear wife. A Queen of the Underworld.
For all those days he watched you carefully, you've never noticed him.
Not even once, as if completely blinded to everything else outside the walls of your little world.
Until one day, you were left alone.
No friends chirping to your ear, no animals warming your legs – just you.
And, well, him.
He didn't know when and how, but a warming tiredness fell on his eyes, and oh-so-mighty God of the Death slipped into a light slumber. With withered grass lulling his heavy body and birds ogling him from the thick branches. Wind whirred quietly, brushing his pink hair, slipping between the strands and massaging tired temples.
He could almost swear that he fell asleep on the grass. Hard ground moulding under his even harder body and green tuft giggling his cheeks. And yet, after turning and squirming like a restless child, he felt something softer under his head.
Something plush, squishy, beaming with the sweetest, flowery fragrance he's ever smelled. The wind's murmur turned into a lovely hum. A melody that coiled his senses and flooded down his spine, filling his body like the sweetest wine.
He didn't dare to open his eyes.
As he knew, the sight of the lovely Goddess brushing gently through his hair would lead to his death. For Sukuna was rather sure that the only thing in this world that could truly stop his heart was the graceful look of your eyes fixed on him.
Not on flowers, not nymphs, nor animals.
Him.
And thus he lay quietly, with your thighs dipping under his head and soft fingers playing with his hair.
"The Lord of the Underworld in my spring domain," you hummed, swirling a pink strand around your finger. "What a bizarre sight, I must admit."
A chuckle slipped from between your lips when his brows furrowed. Slightly yet rather openly stating that the God of the Dead, with his colossal body bending your earth, has not, in fact, been sleeping.
But there was no need to out his silly manner, and your fingers continued soft curls around his temples. As everyone, no matter their origin, was most welcome in your domain.
Something changed around him. The air, the melody, the structure of grass.
Your presence brought life back to the withered plants and silenced animals that feared him. The birds sitting high on the branches slowly flew down, huddling shyly on his chest. Decayed grass turned lush once again, smooching his skin with its plushness.
"There's no need for fear," you whispered warmly, seeing how wary the animals were of his presence. "He is a good creature too."
Forest animals started to come closer, and closer, and closer, with deer sniffing his body and frogs clumping on his shoulders. Their little, sticky toes left traces of gluey slime, but he didn't mind.
Because God of the Dead rarely felt a life embrace his body.
And thus he decided to cherish it and pray that this single, intimate moment would last forever. With your thighs beaming warmth under his head and animals cuddling to his limbs. Surrounding him in a tight circle with furs and feathers tickling his skin.
He couldn't open his eyes, to not destroy the moment, although, heavens, he truly wished!
To see your hearty face up close. To brush the lower lip coloured with fresh berries and tuck a single strand of hair behind your ear. To see the way pastel robes clung to your skin like a mist, and eyes peeked down at him. But instead, he could only lie quietly and listen to the melody slipping past your lips, curling around his mind like a viper.
A moment has passed, and the deep slumber began to coo his senses. He tried to fight it, longing to stay in your embrace a little longer. To remember the melody of your voice and the pattern of fingertips massaging his temples. The flowery, honeyed fragrance clinging to your skin and filling every corner of his body, taking away his privilege to smell anything else for the next few days.
Before the darkness blanketed his mind and breath became shallower, he could hear the last whispers of your voice:
"Go to sleep, my God. Allow me to accompany you for a while."
When he woke up, you were no longer there. Just a withered grass bending under his body and the warmth of the setting sun bathing his hair in red hues.
No sign of you or animals, and the God, once again, felt devastated. As if deprived of something he should hold onto with all his strength. He was a divine being, after all, and yet your misty figure slipped between his fingers like flowing water.
But his mind recalled those few words. Allow me to accompany you.
And thus, Sukuna decided to take this wish too faithfully.
⛥ ⛥ ⛥
"Stop going out there alone," your mother has sighed, looking at your figure swirling around the wooden hut. "It's dangerous, the Gods are unpredictable–"
Your head shook, lifting the little willow-wined basket used for gathering flowers. "I am a Goddess, mother," you chirped in with a giggle, before glancing at the woman's creased forehead. "And you are too. There's simply no need to fear anything. Besides, we're safe in the spring domain."
Liar.
You didn't tell her about the God of Death crossing the border between the Underworld and mortals much more often than he should. Than he used to. With his gloomy aura beaming off the woods, although he thought that you didn't notice it. Crimson eyes followed you every single day for the past few weeks, and whenever he appeared, one side of your domain suddenly went quiet. Withered, under his death-bringing feet and the silent atmosphere he spread around himself.
And as a Goddess of Spring, you knew of everything happening on your land.
At the beginning, you thought it was rather funny. To see the animals and flowers frightened by his sole presence. You didn't give it much thought, as various Gods had strolled through the plains of your earth and chit-chatted whenever they spotted your figure hunched over the flowers.
But Lord of the Underworld wasn't the talkative type, nor did he engage in any closer relations. In fact, you didn't know much about him aside from what you'd managed to notice over the past weeks.
And you've noticed a lot. His body was built like a mountain, with a heaviness that couldn't be put into words. Two pairs of crimson eyes, lidded like sweet almonds and framed by rather long lashes. Pinkish hair reminding you of blushed peonies, and you wondered whether it would feel equally soft under your touch. Four muscular arms carried the little birdies up their trees when he thought you didn't see, and black stripes curled around his body – like deathly mist, tattooed all over his chest, back, and cheeks, as the God of the Dead didn't mind relaxing his beastly, naked body in the nearby rivers.
The water spilt over the grassy edge, and four arms rested on drenched earth. Crystal water looped his body shyly, smooching the sun-kissed skin with cold kisses. He couldn't see your hazy figure lurking in the bushes.
Your eyes glimmering like two fresh peaches and lips curling in a sly smile, upon seeing muscles upon muscles bending on the God's back. Slick and bulging, stripped of the heavy, dark robes he usually wore and enjoying the kisses of the Mediterranean sun.
Sometimes a nymph would notice him bathing at the river and coo shyly at the handsome but rather intimidating God. You've always observed those interactions from the tree, lurking curiously, with birds perched on your shoulders. All the encounters always ended in a rather pathetic failure, with the Lord of the Underworld ignoring the sweet chirps of little nymphs and their promises to warm his cold body.
All of them flew quickly upon seeing a grave grimace twisting the God's face, and all four palms curling into fists.
"Always so, so angry," you murmured to the red bird sitting on your finger, as it nodded its little head.
And so you didn't tell your mother about these few encounters, for there was no need to worry her. She kept you away from the Olympian Gods as long as she could, yet couldn't stop you from becoming a Goddess too. Truly unfortunate, if she had to admit it, as she had tried for a whole life to keep you well hidden in the far, far corner of Mount Olympus, in your own little spring domain.
"Just be careful," your mother whispered, pushing back a few loose strands of your hair. A small basket hung on your back, and robes clung to your skin. "You know how Gods can be…"
You knew. For you heard of Apollo and Daphne. Of Medusa and a curse sent upon her for being a maiden far too beautiful. About Zeus and Callisto, and more, more Goddesses, who suffered a terrible fate from the hands of Gods themselves.
You understood your mother's worry. Why she tried to tie you up to this little hut hidden in the woods of Olympus. Why she was the Goddess of Agriculture and tried so, so hard to keep her dear spring flower hidden from the prying eyes.
And yet, the serpent flow of destiny was truly twisted and unpredictable. Bending under the Moirai's deathly whispers, with a thin thread slipping between their bony fingers like a river of silk.
As many Goddesses before you, you too were soon to learn that playing with Gods – particularly those who seemed to take a special fondness for you – was a treacherous path. That approaching them cheekily, taking pleasure in keeping them in your arms and cooing like a wounded animal, was simply foolish. Mad, in every deep sense of the word, as out of the many Gods in this world, you particularly should not play like a fox with the Lord of the Underworld himself.
So, on the same day, as golden rays dribbled down your figure hunched over flowers, hands picking the season's most beautiful blooms, the earth suddenly burst open. With a raw, brutal rumble, unleashing chaos across the peaceful meadow. Birds rose from the lush branches, and all the forest animals that were cuddling near your body ran off.
The heavy dust had covered your eyes, smooching flimsy dress and delicate petals that bent under the heavy, little droplets of curled earth.
The obsidian chariot harnessed with three black horses appeared right in front of your eyes. Tall and eerie, still carrying the coldness of the Underworld and a man whose crimson eyes stared down at your figure.
No words could slip past your lips as one muscular arm lifted you up and easily flipped you over the shoulder. Locking you in place with the sheer strength of one hand, until your head hung down the man's back.
"Wait!" Rolled in a scream as the world in front of your eyes started to spin.
A voice you hadn't heard yet punched you like a bucket of cold water. "Don't be afraid, my Goddess," Sukuna said, before whistling to his horses. "You'll soon be able to run through the meadows of the Underworld."
It tasted raw, heavy, so, so low, licking your ears with flamed tongues. A voice truly worthy of the God of the Dead himself.
Before you knew it, the earth had swallowed the chariot once again. The rumbling tore through your spring domain, causing vast fields of flowers to vanish as if slowly devoured by the sky. The horses sped downward, pulling the chariot deeper into the earth, until only a faint glimpse of the familiar sun remained – a warmth you wouldn't see again for the next few months.
The darkness engulfed you, wrapping your skin with icy, deadly touches. It felt as though the three sisters had already severed your thread of fate, sending you to the Underworld sooner than anticipated and plunging you into the claws of the beast you inadvertently unleashed.
"My God," you mumbled, trying to wriggle under his heavy arm. "Where are you taking me?"
Sukuna chuckled lowly, his whole body trembling with a laugh that made your spine tingle. "To home, my dearest Queen."
Deathly whispers curled around your body with curiosity, as if the air in the Underworld had tasted such a sweet life for the first time. Dark clouds filled the sky, and the chariot plunged even lower. Soon, a vast, grimy land spread beneath you, with a thick river curling around the dark soil.
You have never seen the Underworld and have never shown any interest in it. Yet, from that point, with the obsidian chariot soaring high in the sky, it looked mesmerising. Almost magical, with deep, dark forests and withered meadows stretching across the land, lit only by the pale blue light of the moon and little gleaming shadows wandering aimlessly across the plains.
It wasn't difficult to spot Hades's temple. Or maybe you should say a castle.
Sitting quietly on the cliff, with Styx's calm waters flowing beneath its heavy walls. It towered over the whole domain, glimmering in blue light under the moonlight's kisses, and something in your breath has hitched upon seeing an enormous garden filled with withered trees looming over the dead flowers.
The air was biting cold, and yet the closer you were to the temple, the warmer it seemed to smooch your skin. It didn't carry the familiar flowery fragrance, but rather a heavy, woody scent, as if something alive still lingered in the bleak land filled with agony and doom.
When the chariot came to a halt on the dark grass, Sukuna set you down gently. With one strong arm still stalling on your back, as if afraid the moment your feet touched the earth, you would try to escape.
But there was no chance for it, as the Underworld was a trickery and a dangerous place.
"From now on, this is your home. My Queen," his crimson eyes never left your face, even when the hand showed towards the temple looming deathly.
You moved a step away, trying to slip from between the heavy fingers brushing your waist. "It is not my home, and I will not be your Queen. Now take me back to my domain."
Looking up was a mistake, for the gravity of his gaze almost pulled you down to earth. Four eyes stared down at your fuming face before one hand lifted and fingers traced the softness of your warm cheeks. "I cannot do it, my Goddess. That's what I decided, and that's what the Gods accepted."
"The Gods?"
His big thumb brushed your lower lip, and you smacked his hand away. A low chuckle slipped through before he pushed you towards the temple. "Zeus agreed, and that's all that matters. Neither you nor even your mother has any say in it."
You tried to move away again, but his strong arm only pulled you closer to his massive body. Twice your height, with four arms ready to manhandle you like a beast – you knew standing up to him would be foolish. And yet, you tried.
But he didn't mind, as you weighed less than a feather and lifting you was not a sweat for a God of his calibre. Your body once again rolled like a sack over his shoulder, but this time you tried to fight. With nails dragging down his back and teeth digging into the muscles bulging under his robes.
For you, it was a matter of life and death.
For him? A flimsy, sweet teasing from his dearest Goddess, who was yet to accept her fate.
Oh, his heart swelled with the purest joy at the sight of your misty figure wrapped in his arms after weeks of yearning. It didn't matter whether you wanted to stay here or not – Sukuna aimed to use every possible means to soothe your mind and pamper you like his precious wife.
"You ignorant brute, a beast, freak!" Rolled furiously, as you once again left the bloody, tooth marks on his back. "You cannot do it!"
Another throaty chuckle escaped from his side, with his arm cuddling around your waist with fondness. "I can, my Goddess. That's how love works."
"And what can you possibly know about love, my God?"
Sukuna didn't know much, but his greedy desire to always keep you in his sight and worship you as if you were the only Goddess in the pantheon must have been close to what love felt like. To get drunk on your laugh and the plush skin of your body every single evening, as if his whole world twisted around nothing but you. To hear your chipper run with stale wind through his decaying land and once again feel your fingers brush through his hair.
The God of the Dead, the elder of the mightiest brothers, harbinger of death, wished for nothing but to taste the nectar of your love.
But with a frown you looked at him, your teeth digging deeper into his skin – for now, it seemed rather fruitless.
He entered the temple and moved towards the massive stairway curling to the heavens themselves. Your furious shouts could be heard throughout the whole land, but it seemed that neither he nor the servant who suddenly appeared seemed to mind.
"Uraume, prepare a bath for the Queen," Sukuna said, glimpsing quickly towards the woman. Her white, short hair curled around her slim face, and deep eyes blinked in amusement at your sorry state.
"My Lord, I don't think the Queen likes this position," she muttered, sending you a pleading look.
Sukuna scoffed, correcting your body on his shoulder. "The Queen acts like a brat, so she will be treated like one"
Uraume nodded before going down the stairs and disappearing somewhere in the deep chambers of the temple.
Thus, it was the two of you again, and Sukuna moved slowly through the dark corridors, with blue flames licking your writhing body. He didn't mind the shouts, the nails scarring his back through the dusky robes till crimson droplets formed under the material and bites that your teeth have left on his shoulders.
In fact, the God of the Dead took a bizarre pleasure in feeling your flaming touch on his skin. Something in his chest swelled whenever your lips travelled to his neck, and it didn't really matter that they left the bloody bites and not the nectar kisses he yearned for.
At some point, you've finally entered the big chamber. The weird warmness crept through the tall windows, bending in heavy, marble arches. Vast plains of the Underworld rolled like waves on the horizon, and you stopped scratching Sukuna's back when the full land came in view.
Beautiful, endless, mesmerising, so different from what you grew up with. With only a pale, blue moon constantly shining upon the lost souls and deep, agonising cries coming from the Tartarus.
Sukuna finally put you down. "That's our chamber," rolled almost proudly, and you looked around the bedroom.
Dark, draped in misty veils, with a huge bed covered with crimson sheets and a baldachin moving together with gentle swooshes of wind. Warm flames have lit the place, with torches and long waxed candles glimmering shyly around the whole chamber.
Just behind the crimson curtain, you've heard the dripping of water and Uraume's hushed voice. So that must've been the bath.
"I will not be sleeping with you in one bed, my God," you barked, but Sukuna seemed not to care at all.
He pushed you towards the balcony, with a heavy hand placed on your lower back. "That's the garden. I made it for you," your chest squeezed. For you. "You can do anything you want with it, of course."
"It's impossible to grow life within your domain," slipped harshly, before your eyes looked up. Crimson moons stared down at you. All the time. "So you kidnapped me to grow you a garden?"
His sharp jaw tightened. "I did it for your own good," he muttered, hand lifting to brush away your hair. "For our good. I want you to be the Queen of the Underworld. My wife," fat thumb kissed you fuming cheek. "My Goddess."
And as much as you wished to stay angry, it felt impossible to hide the special fondness rising in your chest. A mix of hate and curiosity, as it was difficult to imagine why the Lord of the Underworld himself was such a desperate beast to lock you in his clutches.
Your eyes went back to the garden, taking in the withered earth and flowers bending in death.
But then you've noticed something – a tree. Dark, yet looking rather alive, blooming with red, round fruits that looked as if ready to burst.
Pomegranate.
And you, as the Goddess of Spring, knew why it seemed to be the only fruit growing deep within this deathly domain.
Sukuna followed your lidded eyes before a low hum filled the air. "You'll eat it at some point," seeing a sudden shock bathing your face and a slow shake of your head, he added. "Even if I have to force you."
Soon, you would discover that there were many, many other things the God of Death would force upon you, just to keep you within his touch.
And as surprising as it seemed, eating the pomegranate seeds to bind you eternally to the Underworld would be the last.
You didn't say anything, looking at the pomegranate tree with a grim expression ripping your lips. A Spring Goddess you were, and yet the single look of this rich fruit made you want to burn it right here and there.
"My Lord, my Queen, the bath was prepared," Uraume slipped in politely, before once again disappearing into the darkness.
Sukuna came inside, and you followed, passing under his heavy arm as he lifted the curtains between the chamber and bath.
Multiple candles licked dark walls, and the steam curled in the air. The big, marble pool filled with hot water called your name like a madman, and you were ready to tear your dress in half just to dip inside. The air in the Underworld was much, much colder than up in your domain, and after the eventful day, you truly wished for nothing but a simple bath.
And yet, even this was to be wrecked by Sukuna's four hands slipping the misty robes of your shoulders. Your trembling finger caught the dress in front of your chest before it could fall.
"My God, may I know what you are doing?" There was no trace of madness in your tone, only simple weariness and irritation.
His lips curled in a smirk, and if not for both hands gripping your dress, you would surely smack his cheek. You would try at least, as bending your head back to meet his gaze was already difficult enough.
His dark robes hit the floor before you've noticed it, exposing you to the view that – rather unfortunately – made your thighs clench. Massive thighs bulged under muscles, and it seemed clear that he could snap your neck with a single clamp.
But it wasn't the thighs that hit your cheeks with a maddened fever. No, rather two, fat cocks, with shafts so heavy they barely stood straight. Droplets of sticky pearls curled around two pulsing heads, sticking like a net to his pubes. The smooth, reddened skin glimmered under the dimmed flames, and your breath hitched while taking in the inhumane size.
And then your eyes followed up to his belly, mouth grinning mischievously, torso wide as mountains and four arms, just waiting to grab your flimsy body.
Sukuna was… terrifying. Alluring, feral, obscene, but oh so beautiful. With a body worthy of a God and an almost tyrannical aura that clung to him like a second skin. The mortals have feared him, Gods always tried to keep the relations as polite as possible, and yet you somehow found a wisp of fondness coiling in his gaze.
"I'm planning to bathe with my Queen, of course," Sukuna murmured, tilting his head with a cheeky grin. Four crimson eyes burned your skin, and you've never, ever felt as small and helpless as now. "Let me help you with it." Fingers tugged on your dress, trying to slip it down.
You took a step back, gripping the robe even tighter. "My God, I'm fine. But please enlighten me why we should take a bath together?"
He, however, was relentless, and it took a single, harsher tug to let your robes fall down the marble floor. A gasp slipped past your lips as you tried to cover yourself with pathetic moves.
Sukuna lifted your body with a single arm, and soon both of you sat on the little bench carved in a pool.
He took a deep, deep sigh, leaning against the edge. Two muscular arms kept you in place, with your back plastered to his chest and ass brushing against the massive cocks, while the other two started to soap you up.
A shiver ran down your spine, feeling big, yet soft hands smooching your skin in gentle circles. Slowly, tenderly, massaging your shoulders and back, going down, and down, to the swell of your wet breasts.
A quiet, shy moan escaped your feverish cheeks when his thumbs brushed the perked nipples. You wriggled under his touch, as if fighting against itself to give into the warmness beaming from his body and heavy fingers washing your tired skin.
Your hips jerked again when he pinched your nipples, sending a sudden, electrifying wave down your spine.
"My Queen, try to keep yourself in place," he said with a low voice, and only then did you notice that your ass had been bumping against his cocks for this whole time.
You didn't look back, as if in fear that even a single glance could pique Sukuna's curiosity and test the dangerous waters of your patience. "Is it necessary, my God? I can wash myself."
Two hands gripped your hips, quickly turning you towards him.
Your hands rested on his shoulders as he sat you right on his muscular thighs. The water spilt over the pool's marble edge, and crimson eyes stayed fixed on your face. On your slightly parted lips and hair sticking to your cheeks.
His upper arms slipped up to your waist, while the lower ones started to massage your thighs. In slow, gentle circles, dangerously close to the naked pussy that bounced against the fatness of his shafts.
He played a dangerous, oh so dangerous game, but took a maddened satisfaction in observing the changing looks on your face. Anger mixed with delight, as if you wanted to hit him and nuzzle into his touch at the same time.
"What's wrong, my Queen?" he muttered, soaping up your waist. "Why would you wash yourself alone if your husband is here?"
At this point, both of you knew that the bath was a mere, foolish excuse for the Lord of the Underworld to finally enjoy the sight of your naked body. To take a pleasure in feeling your naked skin against his and test his own patience, feeling the warmth of your cunt brushing against his cocks.
His moves were deprived of any sexual manner, and yet your insides burned with the most wicked flame. Your drenched fold were bumping against his cocks, yes, and the fat shaft brushed against your clit, maybe, but even then, he didn't try to push you.
To force himself on you, as if waiting for your consent.
As if he wished you craved him as much as he did you.
But even then, every few seconds, he would move closer. His fingers would brush your trembling nipples, hips move beneath yours, and he would always take in your muffled moans with a sly smile.
"You're not m-my husband," rolled embarrassingly weak, and Sukuna hummed, brushing your lower lip with his thumb.
"Not yet. I'll give you time to make yourself at home," thick digit slipped inside your mouth, and you quickly bite it. Hard, feeling his bones crack under your teeth, although he only smiled. Like a man possessed. "As I was saying, I'll give you a month–"
"And what then?" you mumbled, with lips still curled around his thumb. "What if you won't tame me after a month?"
Pink strands of hair stuck to his wet forehead, and you needed to dig your nails into his chest, not to lift the fingers and brush them away. Four crimson eyes – two big, lidded in slyness and two smaller, curved like a moon – drank in the sight of a sweet little Goddess squirming on his massive body.
"Then I'll force you to love me," spilled calmly, without hesitation. And maddening yearning in his eyes told you that he was ready to do it. That his understanding of love was far from the sweetness and kindness you've known of.
His fingers travelled up, through the breasts, collarbones, and neck, till the second hand joined your face. He cupped your cheeks gently yet lined with restrained violence.
Possessiveness, madness, that filled his flamed eyes.
"Don't test my patience, my Goddess," he murmured softly, pulling your face closer. His lips nearly brushed against yours, and a wave of warmth washed over your body. "Let me love you in my own way, and I promise to make you happy. Within my domain, you can be as free as you desire."
It was difficult not to have your heart flutter upon hearing those words.
He knew how crazy your mother was about you. That you spent most of your life chained to her leg, never leaving the spring domain, never feeling the winds of freedom.
That's why his promise sounded so exhilarating. Wild, absolutely insane, and yet letting you let out a deep sigh. Because finally, after so many years, you were alone.
Without your mother, without the prying eyes of Gods, without the same meadows caging around you like a prison.
Only with a much, much bigger, heavier, and mind-spilling problem, of a God of the Dead who seemed to take a special, wicked interest in you.
Your hands, still trembling on his chest, pushed yourself away. Hips slipped from his cocks, but not before giving two, feverish heads one last brush. As if you wanted to push him over the edge.
He groaned and squinted his eyes. "Where are you going, my Goddess? We're not done yet."
Four hands shoot towards you, fingers trying to catch your slippery body. It curled at the end of his fingertips, teasing him mischievously with full breasts dripping with crystal droplets and soft skin glimmering under the gentle flame of candles.
His cocks moved, eyes tried to take the wholeness of your divine beauty, and yet, after weeks of watching you every single day, he still couldn't believe that a woman of your sort truly walked this earth.
"I am done with you…" your eyes curved cheekily as you slowly moved back. "My God. I agree to a monthly trial–"
"It's not a trial, you'll be staying here forever."
Your back hit the pool's edge, but Sukuna didn't move. Instead, he observed you. Like a predator, preparing for a deadly attack.
"As I said, I do agree. But if you won't manage to persuade me to stay," slipped in a whisper, and you smiled even wider, seeing a furrow creasing his forehead. "I will simply kill myself. Just like Daphne did."
His heart nearly stopped, crimson eyes bloodshot. Before you could escape the pool, two arms yanked you back, pressing your chest against his. He lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist. Finger gently squeezed your face with a slight pinch, until salty fog blurred your sight.
"My God–" you barely muffled.
"Don't ever," he growled, gripping your cheeks harsher. "Ever say that in front of me again. I will break your legs if I have to. I will tie you up to bed if you force me to," something warm spilt from his belly, and just then, you remembered about his mouth. Heavy tongue took a long, fat drag of your wet cunt, and you cried within his brutal embrace. "You are mine. Every dream of yours, every part of your body, every single laugh, all of it belongs to me."
His grip on your cheeks was too strong to let you shake your head, but light enough to allow another moan to spill from your throat. In sweetness and pain, feeling the teeth of his belly mouth pinch your clit.
"My God–"
"Do you understand me?"
"I-I–ahh," a cry filled the foggy bath, feeling his tongue slurp on your wetness. It felt heavy, girthy, tasting you with a maddened pleasure as if feasting on the honeyed juices dripping down the water.
"Do you understand?" he gritted through his teeth, loosening up his grip on your cheeks. "I don't like to repeat myself."
With another sweet mewl, your head lulled to one side in a nod, and he finally released you from his clutches. You stood right in front of him – wet, trembling, with slippery thighs and cunt already missing the swirling of his tongue on your clit.
His thumb followed down to his belly, gathering traces of your cum. A second later, thick digit found its way to your lips, pushing the stickiness right onto your tongue.
It tasted sweet, almost milky-like, clinging to the muscle like a spider's web while his thumb smeared it all over your insides.
"Tastes delicious, hm? That's what you're keeping away from me," Sukuna groaned, drinking in the sight of your teary face. "I am not a patient man, my Goddess, but my heart belongs to you, and I wish to treat you the best I can," he lifted up your face, creaming your cheeks with the rest of the cum. "But I do warn you, dearest. When the month passes, I won't be holding myself anymore. So you'd better accept this fate and just let me love you."
You didn't nod, didn't even blink. Just observed his devilishly handsome face with teary, wrecked eyes beaming with fury.
You tried to snap back, but his thumb pushed harder on your tongue. "Uraume," he called, looking somewhere over your shoulder. "Take the Queen back to our chamber. I think she's a bit tired."
Light, white robes curled around your shoulder, before Uraume gently pulled you away from Sukuna's clutches. "My Queen, allow me to–"
You shook off her hand, wiping the rest of your cum from your cheek. "Thank you, I know how to tuck myself to sleep."
And so you left your future husband alone, with rage and ecstasy still mixing beneath your chest.
⛥ ⛥ ⛥
The next few weeks passed with silence and tension binding the Goddess of Spring and the God of the Dead like a thin thread of fate. Only the three sisters were able to cut it swiftly and release you from the torment, and yet no one ever came to save the poor petal.
The first few days you spent mostly in the garden, lying under the pomegranate tree and observing the darkness blanketing the sky. The withered plains of the Underworld have never been touched by sunlight, and the lack of it started to bother you too.
There was no way to tell day from night, as the air was always slightly cold and the sky never turned any colour other than dark blue. Sometimes a sudden fog has risen over the horizon, curling above the parched trees.
The agonising screams from Tartarus could be heard over from your balcony, although after complaining to Sukuna about your lack of sleep, they somehow quieted down. You didn't pry into his methods, nor did you need to exactly know how he accomplished it.
It was difficult to grow anything in the garden, and after days of trying, you finally gave up. Well, not entirely, for you spent more and more days trying to think of a plant that would not need sun nor much water to bloom and if Sukuna could let you out even for a few days, surely you could find something.
He, however, was fully relentless at your begging as there was nothing binding you to the Underworld. Yet.
Fresh pomegranates whispered sweet sins to your ears as you looked at the round fruits bursting with crimson seeds. You wondered what they tasted like. How pristine their juices were.
Sometimes your finger would trace their hard skin with delicacy and quickly pull away, feeling Sukuna's heavy gaze drilling the hole in the back of your skull.
He seemed to always have you in his sight. It didn't really matter whether you strolled around the garden or went deeper into his domain – he was always there. Somewhere, lurking at your misty figure, the only colourful thing in his vast world, even if you didn't see him.
For the first few days, you didn't talk at all. And he was oh so angry with your nasty mood swings, even though it seemed he truly tried to be on his best behaviour.
For a while, you even refused to sleep in the same bed. He would wake up in the middle of the night only to find you cuddled into Cerberus's massive, soft body, snoring like a little baby and nuzzled under his heavy neck.
The beastly dog quickly became your favourite creature in the whole domain, and Sukuna couldn't count the times when you strolled with it through the dark plains and meadows, giggling sweetly whenever it rolled in withered grass.
It seemed the beast was particularly fond of and protective of you, so that even the God of Death himself could not approach you without the beast's shiny, sharp teeth growling his way. Crimson eyes observed him carefully, as if ready to rip his heart out if his lone finger brushed your silky skin.
And whenever Sukuna reminded you that Cerberus also had his role in the Underworld, the loveliest pout would twist your lips, and a dog's low growl would slash through the air.
And because Sukuna was softhearted only for you, he didn't have another choice but to allow you to adopt Cerberus as your own, exclusive pet.
But he absolutely couldn't stand waking up to the coldness wrapping around his body, and thus, for the first few days, in the middle of the night, he would travel all the way to Cerberus's cave only to take his Goddess back.
"Where is she?" the God would growl, with all four arms folded on his chest and eyes lidded with sleep. "Give her back, she'll come back to you in the morning anyway."
And the dog would usually ignore him, with three massive heads pretending to be plagued by a heavy slumber. Sukuna would sigh and slip a soft plea, trying to resonate with a beast he raised himself.
Three pairs of bloodshot eyes would glare at him deathly, but after a few quite embarrassing and yet desperate pleadings, the dog would lift his head up, only to reveal your peacefully slipping body. Curled against his fluffy neck, with fingers gripping the soft fur and shallow, peaceful breaths coming from your parted drooling lips.
Sukuna would lift you up with utmost care and bring you back to your chamber, wrapping himself around your body with all six limbs.
When the "morning" came, he was always the first one to slip from the bed. But not before getting himself untangled from your body. Lying serenely on his broad chest, with a drool pooling right above his heart and soft strands of your hair tickling his chin.
It was his most favourite sight during that month, and the only chance to see your face without a pout or crease forming on your lovely forehead. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't get close to you as much as he wished to.
But at least, after the few weeks of constantly going back and forth between your chamber and Cerberus's cave, you finally stopped escaping from his clutches and slept in his embrace for a whole night.
Moreover, during those weeks spent in each other's presence, you seemed to enjoy nothing more than pissing the God of the Dead off.
During one eventful night that both he and Uraume would recall in the future with a painful headache, you sat quietly at the long table. The wooden furniture bent under the heavy supper, with meats, fruits and vegetables prepared in feast portions.
Sukuna loved to see your cheeks stuffed full, and sometimes you would even joke that he tried to fatten you up only to eat you for dessert. He chuckled lowly, every time answering that if only you spread those thighs nicely, my Goddess, I would gladly eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
An embarrassed, nasty slip from your lips, as you tried to ignore the warmth blooming in your lower belly.
One evening, however, Uraume interrupted your supper with a heavy panting and trembling gaze.
"My Lord, my Queen," she said, taking a few deep breaths. "Forgive me for the intrusion, but something deeply concerning has occurred."
"What is it?" Sukuna mumbled, not even looking her way. Instead, he poured you another cup of wine, while you tried to hide your flushed cheeks behind a curtain of hair.
Oh, you were so, so fucked.
"All the souls lingering on the river's banks have entered the Underworld."
Sukuna suddenly stopped and put the jug of wine back on the table with a loud thud. "What?!"
Both you and Uraume shrugged.
"Charon took them all," she said, glimpsing your way.
You, however, looked down at your plate, as if trying to completely erase yourself from this conversation.
"All of them were buried with a coin? How is it possible?" Sukuna growled.
Uraume took a deep sigh, with deep, sorry eyes still lingering on your hunched figure. "He said that…" She hesitated, biting down on her lower lip. "The Queen ordered to let them in."
Fuck.
The air suddenly stilled, and a moment passed before Sukuna's crimson, angry eyes looked your way. But it's not like you could see the rage blazing in his gaze, as you still carefully observed the fresh fig lying on your plate.
The fact that he somehow got delivered all your favourite, fresh fruits down to the Underworld was truly–
"Do you want to tell me something, my Queen?" he asked with utmost politeness, although you sensed the displeasure bubbling in his throat.
"No, not really," you murmured, playing with a juicy fruit.
He took a deep sigh, curling all four of his hands into fists. A soft vein popped on his forehead as he truly, really tried to keep himself calm.
"I will ask you again," slipped softly, before his two hands pulled your chair closer to him. Your thighs brushed against each other, and his fingers lifted your chin up. Till you were forced to meet his heavy, bloody gaze. "Is there anything you wish to tell me?
Oh, lying to him like that was much, much harder.
"Listen," you started, and he already sighed. "I don't see any problem with it. Why would you keep them there if Charon can just take them all to the Underworld? Isn't that the whole point of your domain?"
His fingers tightened on your chin because, dear-fucking-heavens, he really struggled to hold it together. Four bloodshot eyes looked down at your pouty lips and doe eyes, as if your pure loveliness could melt his anger.
Well, it usually could.
"They cannot enter Hades if they do not get buried with a coin. That's the rule all of them must obey," rolled harshly, and your pout became even sweeter. Fuck. "How did you even force Charon to do it? This old man is stubborn as hell."
You nestled into his palm, attempting to ease his heart with a gentle, pleading look. "It turns out most of the creatures here are quite afraid of Cerberus," you giggled, even though Sukuna was clearly unhappy. "Um, and they’re also afraid of you. The threat of reporting to the Lord of the Underworld himself tends to work quite effectively."
Sukuna pulled away with a heavy groan and started massaging his temples. One side of him was rather happy that, after weeks of fighting, you decided to use both your title and him to get what you wanted. But the other wanted to curl his fingers around your neck and snap it clean, for the mess you have caused with your need to piss him off.
He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. "Why did you do it?"
"They looked sad."
His crimson gaze once again snapped to your face. "Sad? The souls?"
You nodded. "Well, all of them wanted to enter Hades so–"
"My Goddess, you can't do such a thing!" Uraume cried, looking out the tall window as if all those souls were travelling up Hades' temple.
"Why? I thought I was the Queen of the Underworld." A cheeky smile curved your lips, and Sukuna almost lost it. "I can do whatever I want. Your own words, my God."
Well, he did tell you that from now on, this domain was under both his and your control, but his mind ran far too short to predict that you, in fact, wouldn't know the most basic rules of this land.
And thus, he could only swallow his rage and look back at Uraume. "Catch them all and bring them back to the shore. Also, tell Charon that from now on he's forbidden from listening to the Queen's orders."
You scoffed, crossing arms on your chest. "I'm just going to set Cerberus on him."
"Right," Sukuna growled, sending you a short, angry look. "And also chain the dog to his cave. This beast has forgotten who his real master is."
You could forgive him mistreating the poor souls and Charon, but a line had to be drawn regarding your beloved dog.
Your fingers grabbed his forearm, eyes bulging in worry. "Wait! Leave Cerberus out of this," Sukuna looked at your nails digging into his skin and a jittery gaze. "I'm sorry, okay? Just…" There was a thread linking you both – dangerously thin, leading to an emotion your relationship hasn't yet discovered. Forgiveness. "Please don't hurt him. It's my fault. Cerberus listens to everything I say, he's just a silly dog. So let him be. If there's someone who should be punished, it's me."
Sukuna didn't say anything for a while, staring at your pleading eyes with a furrowed brow. A storm of feelings coiled in his head, and you noticed his gaze soften slightly. He often acted like a brute, of course, but you believed that somewhere, deep, deep beneath his chest, there was still a man who placed the little birds that had fallen from the trees back in their nests.
"Fine," he finally muttered and oh, how shocked he was when you chuckled and wrapped yourself around his neck. For a moment, he sat frozen in place, but soon all four arms curled around you, as he inhaled the sweetness coating your skin.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Uraume looked away to hide a little smile tugging on her lips, as it was a long, long time since she had seen the God of the Dead blushing like a virgin nymph.
Sukuna coughed, sending her a deadly gaze. "But I still believe that you and Cerberus could use some time away from each other. I'm tired of raising two brats at the same time," he mumbled, and you giggled into his neck.
"Well, my God, try to suggest it to him, and we'll see what happens," you pulled away, with hands still wrapped around his neck. "I'm afraid your beast found himself a new owner."
And so, since that evening, a little, hopeful grain started to bloom in Sukuna's heart.
As it seemed that his lovely Goddess had finally begun to warm to him. During the evening baths, you chirped into his ear like a fair birdie, sometimes even washing his muscular back and massaging his always-creased forehead.
At night, your body instinctively nuzzled into his. Legs wrapped around him tightly, hands curled around his arms, and a slightly wet cheek left a small puddle of saliva on his chest. He always beamed with warmth, and you, like a cat, used his body as a heater.
During the shared breakfast, you kept talking while he fed you the sweetest, juiciest fruits. What's more, your roles would shift, with your fingers occasionally placing a piece of orange onto his lips – sometimes upper, sometimes lower.
Whenever you stole a few apples for Cerberus, as he's tired of eating raw meat, he would only scoff and wave his hand. The beast has been living on meat and water for thousands of years, and yet, a few weeks after your appearance, he suddenly developed a lavish taste for fruits picked only by you.
On some afternoons, when Sukuna would nap under the pomegranate tree, you would creep to his side. Carefully place his head on your thighs and hum a lovely melody, just like you did back then in a forest. He would always try to stay as still as possible, just to prolong those precious moments – your fingers brushing through his hair and flowery fragrance coating his skin.
One special afternoon, your hum was interrupted by something else.
Something… alive.
The high trilling of crickets, soft chirping of birds and muffled croaks of the frogs, coming from the little pond Sukuna has built up for you.
Your fingers suddenly stopped in their tracks, and the God coughed quietly, wriggling under your touch. Like a dog, begging for more pats.
"How is it possible?" you asked, looking down at his "sleeping" face.
There was a minute of silence before he slowly, carefully opened his eyes and sighed heavily, meeting your solemn gaze. "The animals also need to enter Hades. Just on different rules," His eyes fell on something crawling up your hand. "Look there."
And to your surprise, you've noticed a grasshopper sitting serenely on your skin. It wasn't as lush and green as you remembered it to be, but misty, almost like a cloud, with only his foggy soul still crawling up your arm.
And then you've noticed birds sitting high up on the pomegranate tree, with their little wings looking like a shadow.
Something heavy formed in your throat and heart stirred with affection. "You brought them for me?"
Sukuna hummed, closing his eyes and gently placing your hand back on his head. "You can say that. Most of them were already here. I simply ordered to be bring them to our garden."
Your fingers started working through his hair again – scratching and massaging his head, till the beastly God stretched on your thighs like a cat and nuzzled into the softness of your belly.
You didn't push him away but rather giggled and whispered a sweet thank you. A little smile tugged on Sukuna's lips, and he purred softly my pleasure, Goddess.
And thus, for the first time in your life, you have felt free.
With Underworld's woeful air smooching your cheeks and shadowy animals following you around the withered plains.
You have never felt more alive than in the realm of the dead.
That's why when Sukuna called you into the main hall one day, your heart froze. With dread and fear, upon seeing your furious mother standing right next to him by the altar.
The altar, decorated with your small marble figures and fresh flowers, he ordered to be changed daily since no plant in the Underworld could survive longer than a day.
Your fingers curled in fists, lips fell in line, and somehow, even though you loved her dearly, you simply couldn't take a step closer.
Sukuna stood still, with four arms crossed on his chest and eyes looking carefully at your trembling body. As if he could read all the thoughts coiling beneath your furrowed brows.
"My darling, oh Gods," she sighed, crossing the distance between you two in a few steps. Before you knew it, she pulled you into a hug, although your arms hung loosely by your sides. "I thought I'd lost you forever. Can you believe that I needed to threaten Zeus himself to finally find you?"
She pulled away and grabbed your cheeks, only to meticulously ogle your face. "Oh my, you're so pale! This place did you no good, but at least you're fine. This brute…" she looked over her shoulder, glancing at Sukuna's stony face. "My heart almost stopped upon hearing that he was the one who kidnapped you. Did he touch you? Are you okay? Did he, you know, force you to–"
"Mom," you quickly interrupted her and wriggled yourself out of her embrace. "Why are you here?"
She looked dumbfounded – with warm eyes bulging in shock and lips slightly falling open. When you stepped back, her forehead creased.
"I came to take you back, of course."
A gentle sigh echoed through the vast temple hall as you glanced over her shoulder. Somewhere nearby, a man was attentively listening to you, with a heart pounding loudly in his throat. Filled with fear, anticipation, hope.
Sukuna rarely looked at you with that gaze – filled with love and dread, as if he understood that neither anyone else nor he himself was truly worthy of your heart. He scarcely ever seemed so weak and afraid, as if his mind, soul, heart were fully, completely wrapped around your finger.
And thus now, after so many of his threats, you could make a choice.
To stay here, with him, or go back to your mother.
"Let's go, darling, I'm getting nauseous just from being here," she tried to grab your hand, but, once again, you stepped away.
"I'm not going back," slipped in a whisper. "I can't go back."
She looked shocked, and her lips curved in a nervous smile. "What do you mean, you can't?"
"I'm bound to the Underworld."
Lie.
But oh, how good it felt in your heart, lifting the weight of all the mixed emotions you've buried over the past few days.
"Bound? What do you–" she started, and then, as if suddenly enlightened, gasped. A sharp cry escaped her throat, and her eyes looked back at Sukuna with a frightened, intense gaze. "You! You forced her to eat the seeds!"
Before she could step closer and smack his cheek with an open palm, you grabbed her. "No, mom. I did it myself."
She stopped, turning back your way. With disappointment filling her eyes and trembling lips. "You did what?"
"I love him."
And that, well, that was a confession no one expected. Not you, mother, and particularly not Sukuna. His breath hitched, eyes bulged, and he almost, almost took a step closer.
As his heart, mind, and soul were consumed by a desire to hold you and caress you yearningly until your lips swell from the sweetness of the kiss.
Your mother quickly interrupted, holding your cheeks. "You don't. Don't say it. You don't love him. He's a beast who manipulated your mind, love has no place here. Don't act foolishly, that's not how I raised you."
Your heart shuddered in wretchedness upon her words. As you knew how much she hated all the Gods. How hard she tried to keep this sweet, yet so foreign feeling away from you, as if the little seed growing in your heart was something shameful.
Crystal droplets trickled down your cheeks, wetting her pads. "But I do, mother. And I will stay here, with him. That's my home now."
There was no need to listen to her further. Sliding her trembling hands from your cheeks, you turned and quickly disappeared into the comforting darkness of a temple you used to hate that much.
Her low pleadings filled the main hall, but you could only ignore them. Seeing her again, after a whole month, brought dreadful memories of years spent in her golden cage.
You entered the chamber and sat down on a plush bed. Your hands still slightly wet from nervousness, eyes taking in the cosiness and warmth of the bedroom you shared with… him. Candles licked your skin sweetly, and moon lurked through misty curtains.
Even the usual shrieks coming from Tartarus were mild that evening, allowing you to enjoy the little crickets slipping from the garden.
Cerberus barked somewhere deep within your domain, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You were on your way to give him his daily dose of apples when your mother suddenly appeared.
You sat on a bed, hunched and frozen, not noticing a massive shadow that swooshed closer. Dark robes appeared in front of your feet, and soon a heavy, musky fragrance followed.
"My Queen," Sukuna started, not quite sure what to say. A silence has fallen – pleasant, warm, homey. He sighed and crouched to meet your gaze. "Are you okay?"
Only then did he notice crystal droplets still dripping down your cheeks. "My Goddess, why are you crying?"
"Don't allow her to take me," slipped in a crying whisper, before a muffled choke followed. His big hands gripped yours, trying to stop the trembling. "Please, let me stay here."
His fingers lifted to gently cup your face. "What are you talking about? Of course, I won't let you go," crimson eyes softened as a large thumb brushed your lower lip. "Have you forgotten my words? You're never leaving my side."
"Never?"
He shook his head. "Never. I will stand against all of Olympus if that's the price of loving you."
Another sharp cry rolled from your lips as you nuzzled into his hand.
He changed your positions, sitting on the bed and letting you climb onto his thighs, only to push your crying face into his neck. Four hands embraced you before he began to cradle you like a baby.
With soft whispers and kisses placed on your forehead.
When the first shock rolled away and the tears finally stopped, you pulled back. With swollen lips and puffy cheeks, that made Sukuna's heart swell with fondness.
His tongue lapped up the last salty droplets before big palms cupped your hips. "You'll stay here, with me," plush lips peppered your cheeks, nose, and the slightly trembling chin. "And you'll let me love and worship you as you deserve," his hands rolled your hips against his, drawing a moan from your throat. "No one will take you away from me. Not now, not ever."
Your arms wrapped around his neck, back bent in a delicate arch. You looked at him with a plea, taking in the divine beauty of his beastly face. "What if Zeus himself comes for me?"
His lips were barely brushing against yours, and a woody, heavy smell of his body tickled your heart. "I'll kill him. My Goddess, you truly underestimate me. I will move heaven and earth to keep you by my side."
And then, with a last longing gaze connecting your starving souls, your lips have finally crashed.
In a slow, gentle, yet raw kiss, with his teeth biting down on your lower lip and throat swallowing all your sugary moans.
All four hands quickly found their way around your body – caressing, holding, gripping the swell of your ass and moving your hips in harsher rolls.
Misty robe hanging on your shoulders slipped down with a gentle tug, and soon his two upper hands lifted to cup your breasts.
The softness of your skin made Sukuna's mind spin, and a craving to sink himself into your warm cunt felt almost maddening. His cocks, still clothed by a dark tunic, brushed against your folds and the sweetest, purest moan rolled right into his lips.
"Feed me, my God," you murmured, pulling away slightly. "Feed me the pomegranate seeds and tie me to the Underworld. To you."
Of course, you lied to your mother.
And Sukuna knew it too. He observed you for a whole day and night, never leaving your giggles out of his sight, and thus he was aware of your little, desperate lie.
What he hoped for, however, was that your confession was sincere.
Tasting the sweetness of your lips, he realised how truly doomed he was – completely entangled with the scent of your skin and the beauty of your eyes. His heart skipped a beat when your fingers pulled his pink hair, causing his hips to buck instinctively, seeking the intense pleasure.
You pushed his chest, forcing his massive body to lie down on the mattress. "Feed me, and I shall let you have a taste too."
Your lips met his cheeks, jaw, and dropped down through the bulging throat and collarbones, while fingers slipped from the dark robes. He wore nothing beneath the long tunic, and soon your lips curled around his nipple, biting it softly with a hum.
Two upper arms swiftly pulled you up to his face, while the lower ones still held your bare hips. "What will you let me taste, my Goddess?"
A cheeky smirk tugged on your lips as you placed your leaking cunt right over his open belly mouth. "Your favourite fruit, my God."
With a loud moan, you lowered down onto its tongue, feeling the heavy muscles giving you a long, nasty lick. A shudder washed over your spine, and Sukuna drank the next cry that escaped your throat.
"You taste even better than I remembered, my Goddess," he groaned, feeling the saccharine droplets coat his lower tongue. Sticking to his teeth and inner cheeks like the sweetest honey. "But I have a much better idea."
And with that, you quickly found yourself facing his massive cocks and hovering over his face. Your puffy, drenched folds hang right above his lips, and he looked at your dripping cunt with a low groan.
"Fuck, my Goddess," two fingers parted your folds, only for a small, sticky droplet to drip down his chin. "You smell so fucking good, lower yourself a bit."
He didn't wait for your answer as two big hands pulled your hips down with a single, strong move. A groan slipped past his lips and went straight to your cunt, sending a wave of trembling pleasure straight to your clit.
"That's right, my sweet fucking Goddess," he mumbled, lips curving under the weight of your hips. "Don't be shy, get yourself comfortable."
"I-I'm not shy," and if not for a heat that slapped your cheeks, he maybe would believe you.
But your body was too honest, too inexperienced to hide the way your hips rolled against his tongue. Another pitched moan filled the foggy air when his tongue slipped inside your tight cunt.
His lower hands landed on your back and slowly, slowly bent you down. Till your wet lips met with two, pulsing heads and breasts hang right over the belly mouth.
Oh, he was right, this position was absolutely killing… both of you.
Because the moment big, beastly lips curled around your nipple, your hips buckled, and a sweet moan tickled both leaking heads.
"Nghhh," bounced sweetly off his veiny shafts. "That's–mhmm, my God, feels so good."
Sukuna chuckled, slurping on your swollen clit and pushing another cry from your chest. "Give them a little lick, my Queen. They've been waiting for you whole fucking month."
With a hazy gaze, you glanced at two fat cocks smooching your cheeks. Wet and massive, with droplets of musky precum oozing down the pulsing skin and a strong fragrance making you even wetter. He smelled so heavy, manly, and the moment you gave the first cock a kitty lick, Sukuna groaned straight into your clit.
Your hand grabbed the other one and started pumping it in slow, gentle moves, with your thumb brushing the reddened head. Belly mouth sucked on your breasts as if waiting for something more creamy to release itself onto his ravaging tongue, and you cried even louder whenever the wet tongue travelled between both of your nipples.
"How is it possible, fuck," Sukuna groaned, scooping a hefty gush of your cum and drinking it straight from your fluttering hole. "That you're so sweet everywhere. My beautiful, divine Goddess. Come on, try to suffocate me with your cunt. Put your whole weight into it."
With your cheek stuffed full of his cock, you pulled away with a nasty pop and looked over your shoulder. "My God, please take a deep breath," you reminded, because Sukuna seemed to be absolutely lost between your drenched thighs.
With a single finger thrusting into your tight hole and an open mouth catching all the dripping sap. His teeth grazed your clit, before a warm tongue kissed the pain away. He slurped like a madman, whispering little obscenities straight into your pussy and kissing her with nasty squelches. Gluey cum stuck to his nose, lips and chin, connecting him with your parted folds.
"I can't, I don't have to, she needs me," he groaned, giving you another heavy lick. With tongue covering the entirety of your cunt and finger pushing through your pulsing walls. "So sweet, my Goddess, you're so fucking delicious."
Oh, there was truly no remedy for him!
And thus you went back to his pulsing, almost bursting shafts. Your puffy lips kissed two heads before sucking on one gently. Fingers squeezed his constricting balls, juggling them softly and giving them a shy lick.
Sukuna trembled under your body, so you did it again, and again, and again, kissing, licking and sucking on his balls, while rolling your hips against his tongue.
"My God, are you okay?" you slipped shyly, although a cheekiness shimmered in your haze.
Sukuna pulled away from your cunt, and took a deep breath. "Don't ask me stupid questions, my Goddess. My patience is already hanging by a thread, so unless you want me to fold in half and fuck that cunt raw, you better shut that pretty mouth of yours."
You giggled, biting gently down on his balls. "I'll take that as a ye–ah!" you moaned, when the second finger slipped into your tight cunt. "My G-God, that's too–"
Too much wanted to roll, but Sukuna soon added the third . "You're so tight, my Goddess. I'm afraid both of them won't fit in," he slurped, feeling the desperate squeezes of your walls and juices trickling down his fingers.
Both?
An unsettling, truly frightening thought has crossed your mind. He could tear you apart with one, and using two seemed to be a completely foolish idea!
When his pads pushed something, slightly swollen and plush, your whole body shuddered. Pleasure washed over your spine, dripping down to curled feet, and a sugary moan wrapped around his leaking cock.
"There it is," Sukuna growled, looking at your raw, soaked pussy trying to mould itself around his fingers. "My Queen, you're doing so well. Squeezing my fingers so tight, I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cocks."
The weird warmth has been coiling in your belly since his lips landed on your clit. But now, with fingers pushing your walls and pads brushing against the plump spot, something warmer, wetter started to plash inside your pouch. Something dangerously pleasurable and ready to burst beneath Sukuna's tongue and his big, stomach mouth sucking sweetly on your tits.
"My G-God, I–" you moaned, when all of his three fingers bent against the sweet spot and lips slurped on your clit. "I'm going to, mhmm, allow me to cum on your cocks, p-please."
And a single teary look over your shoulder, with hair sticking to your wet cheeks and lips fallen open, was enough to make him lose his mind.
"Whatever you wish, my Queen," he said, quickly pulling you away from his mouth.
Your body turned again, and this time you found yourself back on top, with two massive cocks squirming beneath your drooling folds and his lower hands gripping your thighs.
"You want me to…?"
He nodded, gently pulling your hips up, to help his leaking heads kiss your fluttering hole. "Ride me, my Queen. I want to watch you take it up…" his fingers traced the softness of your belly, before pushing on a spot somewhere just beneath your button. "here. Both of them."
Your pussy was ready to burst any second, and you could already feel something else, other than your normal wetness, drip down his cocks. The fog in your mind grew thicker, sweat coolly lined your neck, as you pressed both hands against his chest and leaned on trembling, feeble arms.
Rough thumb from the upper arm slipped between your folds, rolling gently the puffy clit. "Slowly, my Queen, take a deep breath." You did just that, with eyes looking straight into his. Both heads started forcing their way through your tight walls, gathering the slippery juices on the way. "That's it, that's my good girl, deep breaths."
He talked you through it, with thumb rubbing the sweet button and lower hands slowly, slowly, pulling you down his shafts.
A sharp cry rolled past your lips when both heads slipped inside. Pushing into your contracting walls and ripping you open, till the metallic taste of blood pooled somewhere at the back of your throat.
The water plopping inside your belly was filling you full, together with Sukuna's cocks constantly trying to thrust inside. You could feel every vein, every detailed curve of his shafts lick your gummy insides, as he pushed, and pushed, and took in the maddening beauty of your face, utterly lost in pleasure.
Your pussy squelched around his monstrous cocks. Cried sweetly, with a clit slowly getting much harsher rubs, till the swollen button started to tremble.
"My God, w-wait, something's wrong," you cried, trying to pull yourself off.
But Sukuna's lower hands kept you in place, and his hips bucked up, trying to meet yours. "Everything's good, my Queen. Deep breaths, you're doing so well."
"No, you don't get it, I–"
The heat hit your cheeks, walls clamped down half-thrust, and the alarmingly plopping water, finally, finally, spilt.
You came.
Or maybe, gushed.
With his cocks barely inside, a hefty wave rolled through your spine, spraying Sukuna's hands, belly, and chest with your cum. Your body trembled in pleasure, and he used this short moment of distraction to thrust his cocks fully, till your hips finally met his.
It was brutal, mean, absolutely filthy, with his lower mouth drinking your squirt and crimson eyes glimmering with maddening yearning.
Something in his mind snapped when he noticed a big bulge right under your belly button, and within a second, your position changed once again.
And this time, you knew that it was over.
He folded you in half, till your ass peeled off the drenched bed, and pussy glistened under his fiery gaze. All four arms kept you tightly in place, with lower limbs spreading your soaked thighs and upper ones taking something from the bedside table.
Only then have you noticed a crimson, bursting pomegranate, licked by the candle's warm tongues and dripping down Sukuna's forearm. He ripped it in half with a single, gentle move, before drinking the seeds with eyes never leaving yours.
"Deep breath, my Goddess," he said again, before both of his cocks rammed into your needy, stretched hole and lips crushed against yours. "Swallow it," he muttered into your reddened teeth, pushing all the pomegranate seeds straight into your mouth. "My little slutty Queen. Coming on my cocks when I barely thrusted in."
The fruit tasted sweeter than honey itself and mixed with Sukuna's sweet spin. His tongue trailed against yours, before lips moved towards your cheeks, chin, jaw, leaving all over your face a sweet, bloody trace of the fruit.
The power that tied your body, heart and soul to the God who wished for nothing but to love you like a madman and worship every piece of your skin.
His thrusts became more erratic, brutal, with squelches filling the wet, foggy air and his heavy, massive body leaning on your folded legs. His hips met yours with each roll, and whenever he pulled away, a long, sticky strand stretched between his soaked shafts and your sensitive cunt.
"Open up, my Queen," he growled, digging his fingers into your jaw. "Show me how well you swallowed it all."
Your lips fell open, and a string of drool trickled down his fingers. Big thumb pushed on your reddened tongue, and you sucked it sweetly, with eyes crossing in pleasure.
The long, fat tongue of his lower mouth slid out and gave your clit a long, filthy lick, before its lips sucked on it raw. Irritating the sensitive button and slurping on the last droplets of your squirt. Sukuna groaned, feeling your walls clamping around his cocks and pushed harsher, as if trying to fight the merciless squeeze.
"Fuck, my Goddess, let me–ahh–let get to your womb," he groaned, giving you a single, brutal thrust. You cried around his thumb, but he simply shushed you sweetly. "Don't cry, it's alright. Ngh, squeezing me so fucking hard," he leaned over, licking off the salty droplets.
His hips moved with unbelievably violent motion, rocking your bed against the wall and drawing a loud cry from your throat. Two pulsing heads kissed your womb with squelches till it swelled like a juicy peach and bent under his heartless thrusts.
A familiar warmth once again started to pool in your belly. Your arms curled behind Sukuna's neck, pulling him into another, filthy kiss. "My God, I'm g-gonna… soon… mhmm so good, s-so–ahh!"
He chuckled against your lips, but couldn't ignore the lovely tenderness filling your teary eyes. His heart jumped, and lower hands folded you into an even meaner mating press. Till you could barely breathe under his massive body, squeezing you down.
"Say it," he whispered, letting his cocks rip you raw. "Say it again."
Two fat shafts slipped in and out, smooching every little corner of your tired, swollen cunt. The pleasure filled you from head to toe, overflowing your body in electrifying strokes.
You knew what he wanted to hear. But his thrusts made a mushy mess out of your mind and eyes rolled back each time his hand pushed the bulge forming under your belly. Not even pregnancy could get you that bloated.
When your head lulled to the side, his fingers dug into your cheeks again, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Say it, my Goddess," he said, licking the last red traces of pomegranate juice from the corner of your lips. "I beg you."
"I love you," slipped like a dream. "I–I, mhmm, I love you. My God, I–"
His lips joined yours in a yearning, maddened kiss. "Fuck, my sweet Goddess. I love you so much, so fucking–fuck."
The warmth in your belly spilt again, and watery cum flooded his abdomen. The belly mouth sucked itself onto your clit, drinking each and every bead of your sweet nectar.
A second later, his hips finally stilled. Pulsing heads nuzzled into your womb, filling it with heavy, gluey cum. He pumped you full, with maddened pleasure creasing his forehead and knees digging into the mattress. Everything, just to get as close to you as possible.
His hefty cum filled your belly before bursting outside and buttering your folds.
"My God, at this point, mhmm, you'll knock me up," a sweet, tired giggle slipped past your lips, feeling his seed overflowing your poor womb. "Although I truly wouldn't mind."
He sighed, nuzzling warmly into the crook of your neck. The plushiness of your skin still made his mind spin, and the flowery fragrance haunted him like a spirit. "My Goddess, don't play with fire."
Your fingers brushed through his hair, pulling a low hum from his massive chest. "I'm not afraid to get burned," you said with full seriousness.
But God didn't answer. Just cuddled closer to your body – plush breasts, soft neck, and hair tickling his nose. He reminded you of Cerberus whenever the beast tried to cuddle into your side.
And with the same love and fondness, you kissed his temple, whispering simple yet oh so important, I'm yours, forever.
Forever it truly was for you, as no other couple on Olympus would ever conquer the utter devotion and love of the Goddess of Spring and the Lord of the Underworld.
Such contrary characters and yet relishing themselves in the most maddening obsession the Olympus has ever seen.
Oh god, I'm tired but so, so happy. I think it's pretty good, but please let me know your thoughts in the comments <3 Pray forgive me for any mistakes, the wizard was proofreading it at 11 p.m.
Synopsis. When both Gojo twins want you for Valentine’s Day, do you:
A. Choose the frat boy extraordinaire you’re in a messy situationship with.
B. Choose the cute nerd that tutors you but is too afraid to confess.
C. Choose both of the above.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader (x Gojo Satoya)
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, GOJO TWINS, nerd!Gojo, frat boy!Gojo, college AU, they both want you, Iove triangles, yearning Gojo(s), tutoring, FWB situations, parties, frat!Gojo is slightly toxic, named twin, fights (over you), Valentine’s Day, getting them BOTH, oraI (f + m), handj’s, fírst times (nerd!Gojo), they do you but NOT each other (pls), spítting, chokíng, manhandIing, breath pIay, p talking, p sIapping, frat!Gojo is MEAN, TONGUE PlERCINGS, possessive, cIit bíting, cervíx smoochin, vírginíty Ioss (nerd!Gojo), prem. ejac, SAME DAMN TIME, heavy overstím, fuIl neIsons, fighting over you during it, DP, anaI, SAAAAAME DAMN TIME, science Ianguage, nerd!Gojo’s SENSITIVE, big stretches, big finishes, creampíes, cùmpIay, surprise at the end, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 14.5k
A/N. Y’ALL HAVE BEEN BEGGING FOR THIIIIIIIS- inspired by this art by the absolutely amazingly talented @/toriiartz_ + all the Iovely comments (Tonycries is listening…)
Gojo Satoru and Gojo Satoya.
The Sun and the Moon. The storm and the morning dew. The sweetness of spring flowers and the burning hand of summer skies—many things could be said about the Gojo twins.
Perhaps not everything so poetic: to most, they were those infamously handsome set of twins that sauntered about campus as if paid to be there (and to your left—keep your eyes peeled and you might just catch a flash of white hair). Of course, that campus tour would have to oscillate between libraries and frat parties at a worrying rate…
To others, they were the valedictorian of the Physics Department and the President of Delta Jujutsu Pi. To others, the region’s best Digimon player and the region’s best ragers.
Maybe someone could convince Gojo Satoru to do some research on how two men with the exact same face could be so different from one another?
But to you, they were your tutor and…the one you were currently in bed with-
“Oh…fuck, that was good.” Gojo Satoya hisses, pulling out of you with the loudest squelch.
You could feel the slick driiiibblin’ down your inner thighs. And he’s gnawing down on his pinkish lower lip- wishing to hear the music as he surges upwards n’ swirls that even pinker tip around your entrance.
Around and around.
You’re shaking as he does so, and he’s only pulling your hips further down against his.
“Just a little more f’me, baby.” Long fingers tightening at your waist, Satoya ruts his toned torso off of the bed. His pale lashes flutter at the sensation of you trying to clench, gracing you with such a smug smile that you’ve grown to both love and get irritated by.
You’re been riding him for what seemed like hours by now- and you’re that half his fraternity brothers were ready to break down the door with noise complaints.
Then again, they were likely used to this.
Because Gojo Satoya was always just so insatiable with you.
It’s been a few months since you’d been fucking Satoya - just an on and off little rendezvous that had started one night at one of his own parties. One of the many, many parties you’d dragged your roommates to.
Delta Jujutsu Pi was known for them. And according to the (many—you’d long since learned not to underestimate his popularity) personal recounts and Instagram stories, one minute you’d been challenging the frat president to beer pong but with vodka- and the next you both had been pressed against the mansion’s wall. Lips on each other’s.
When you’d woken up the next morning, it was to a pounding headache and Satoya’s steady heartbeat. Arm cushioned underneath your head. Leg thrown over his waist.
No clothes.
The two of you had gasped- straight into a kiss which tasted faintly like last night’s berry punch bowl.
And what was meant to be a one-night stand turned into exchanging numbers, turned into meeting up the next weekend, turned into hanging out several times a week and meeting each other’s friends, turned into a long and dragged out…something of which a ‘relationship’ was not something you’d use to describe it. It was many things but not that.
It was like the thick and cloying sweetness of the punch bowl that night, but also the bitter taste of vodka-jealousy that shot through whenever Satoya winked back at someone else.
You knew you had no right to be jealous- it’s not as if the two of you were anything committed. No expectations. No strings attached, right?
But then again, that didn’t stop the lines from blurring. It didn’t stop you from going out on dates with other men in retaliation, and it didn’t stop him from blowing your phone up all night whenever you did. You always did unmute him by the end of those nights, however, if only to complain about your latest date.
It didn’t stop him from throwing those parties he was notorious for and inviting everyone he knew and their sister- flirtations galore. But it also didn’t stop him from coming right back to you—time and time again, no matter how much you blocked and swore at him.
Didn’t stop a single thing.
Throughout it all, you’d say that the only silver lining was getting to know Gojo Satoru more in-depth.
Of course, knowing that the two were related, you’d coaxed his number out of Satoya to convince Satoru to tutor you. Which, expectedly, had turned into more of a friendship—one that was only sweetened by how openly you gawked at the man during your tutoring sessions.
That was your introduction to both brothers- worlds apart from one another.
The magnetic and heart-racing Gojo Satoya, the shy and studious Gojo Satoru. The older one by two minutes and the younger one.
The messy one and the one who’d been here to witness just how messy the latter was.
In more ways than one.
Eventually, Satoya was drawing the cutest lil’ hearts against your clit. That blushing tip of his cock moving ‘round and ‘round that sensitive spot, he hums at the smears of sheen he’s making—“Maybe we should go again…”
“Maybe you should let me go to class now.” You’re countering back.
His smile grows wider, “Maybe I shouldn’t.”
“Toya-” Your breath hitches, n’ you’re pushing back on his toned chest. It was just so defined from all those hours he spent at practice, and you’re taking more than a bit of pleasure feeling his pectorals. “-make me miss one of Professor Yaga’s lectures again and I’ll be referring him to you.”
Satoya shudders. “That man hates me.”
“Can’t imagine why…” You thought of all the classes he’d missed for matches- and perhaps being a loudmouth doesn’t help, either.
With the haunting thought of Yaga in his mind, Satoya lets you extract yourself from his arms and head to the bathroom to freshen up. By the time you’re heading back, he’d already tied-off the condom and chucked it in the bin, in the process of pulling on his fraternity-merchandise boxers (why did they even make those?)
He’s jumping in bed with you once you’re laying back down. Tugging his arms ‘round you—no one would ever believe it, but Gojo Satoya was a cuddler after sex.
The white-haired man whispers about everything and nothing as you two relax.
“Oh yeah- that reminds me.” He hums at some point, lifting his head up just a little from the crook of your neck. “I’m having a party this weekend, you should come.”
“This weekend?” It wasn’t a surprise that the frat was throwing yet another rager- and Satoya didn’t really have to ask you, either. He knew that you’d show up anyway. More of a formality than anything, as if he wouldn’t just sulk in a corner if you didn’t end up coming- before taking over the dance floor once Kendrick Lamar came on, of course.
Satoya nods sluggishly, the room still thick with sex.
But you’re turning to face him with a raised brow. “Like- this weekend?” He’s climbing up onto his elbows in confusion at your tone. “Toya, it’s Valentine’s weekend.”
“Oh.”
“You seriously didn’t know?”
“Oh.”
He runs a hand through his rumpled white hair. “So that’s why chicks n’ bros have been giving me chocolate all week- and here I thought I just got extra handsome.”
He pauses.
“Have I gotten extra hands-”
“Satoya.”
“Alright alright.” Satoya raises his hands in surrender, letting his head fall back onto the pink-cased pillows. “So uh…”
It was obvious when he didn’t know what to do with what you were throwing - hints often didn’t work on Gojo Satoya. Which was interesting to find out, because you’d always assumed that Satoru would be the oblivious one (and to a large extent, he was). But a sheer lack of committed relationships and an overt surplus of flirtations meant Satoya wouldn’t understand a hint even if you banged him upside the head with one—he’d merely look up at the sky and wonder whether it was hailing.
Though that’s not to say that he wasn’t intelligent - certainly not, you’ve witnessed his pre-tournament planning, the way he’d lead your university team, the NBA drafter that reportedly had an eye on him, how he managed good scores on most exams despite rarely attending class.
No, Gojo Satoya was just…so good at giving hints that it seemed to have balanced out by not being to receive them—yours, at least. Strangely enough, he seemed to never get your subtlety.
All but yours.
As if he couldn’t see, as if he saw but couldn’t believe.
And so you sigh. “No- no, that’s my mistake. I just assumed we’d be doing something for Valentine’s Day.”
“…Girl, the party?”
“Nevermind.”
And as Satoya launches into yet another monologue - about his most recent training regiment and the upcoming frat rush - you’re reaching over to the bedside cabinet. Grabbing your phone, it takes a few taps for you to interrupt the white-haired man-
“Actually, Toya—” Catching his attention. “I might not be able to make it to the party. Or at least not all of it.”
He sits up urgently, “Huh? But why-”
“Plans.”
“With what bastard-”
“That bastard is your brother.” And as his jaw drops, you’re turning your phone screen to flash the conversation at him. Satoya’s blue eyes narrow as he reads onwards-
You: psssssssst
Nerd-jo (Gojo brother #2): ?
You: do you have any plans for valentine’s day?
You: wanna hang out?
Nerd-jo (Gojo brother #2): ???!!!11??1!111!!??!?!
Nerd-jo (Gojo brother #2): My apologies.
Nerd-jo (Gojo brother #2): Typo.
Nerd-jo (Gojo brother #2): But yes, I would be delighted to spend time with you.
Just about the gist of it-
“—and I haven’t spent time with Satoru in a bit now so-” You were saying—and he knows, by the way. These days, Satoya had been intentionally meeting you during times he knew that his busybody brother was free from the clutches of his damn books. Just like he knew that Satoru had been meeting you during the times that Satoya had been out from practice.
‘Tutoring’ his ass- tutoring didn’t mean Satoru needed to have you over. To his apartment.
To the place mere feet away from where he knew his brother stuffed a hoodie you’d left behind underneath his pillow.
Fucking tutoring-
“Sure thing. Have fun.” Metal in his tone. Metal in his gaze locked in on you—he’s pushing your phone down to the mattress and leaning over to kiss you. Tongue piercing scraping the edge of your lips- “But just know that I’ll be a hell of a lot more fun than my brother.”
.
.
.
It’s Valentine’s Day when the sudden slam! thunders across the library.
Gojo Satoya with chest puffed out in his letterman jacket, with his forearm banged down on one of the tables. He leans over the polished mahogany and stares straight into the eyes of a man that looked like his mirror image.
White hair.
Blue eyes.
Those same unfairly pretty features- one of which was twisted into a scowl. And the other—nothing but cool indifference.
Gojo Satoru arches a stark white brow and meets his brother’s eyes. “Can I help you?”
“You can help me by fucking off-” Satoya spits. And had they been anyone else, then the gapes and gasps and stares - even the stray camera that was peeking out - would have unnerved them. But the Gojo twins were used to the attention by now.
The only difference was that where one basked in it, the other shunned away from it.
And though the tips of Satoru’s ears flush bright red—he never was the type to back down from his brother. Satoru’s jaw clenches, “Though you may be known for such philandering proclivities, I can assure you that I am not much the same.”
“And I can assure you that my fist will meet your ugly face-”
“We have the same face.”
“-if you don’t call off that date you have with my girl.” Satoya pants out. Breathless with fury.
Though there was a smile on his face- and he has the audacity to turn and wave - to fucking wave - at some of the gawking on-lookers. Shooting that charming Gojo smile that was bound to make them think this was an act of brotherly jest.
It makes the other man perk up.
“Whose girl?” Satoru asks.
Satoya freezes. “Huh?”
But his younger brother cocks his head, almost as though he’d just found the answer to a particularly tricky question. “Whose girl?”
The frat president rears back. Without warning, he reaches out and grasps at the lapels of the other’s stupid Star Wars hoodies—“You heard what I said.” Glower permanent on his face, “You’re smart. Figure it out.”
Satoru narrows his eyes, glaring at the man through his glasses. “Don’t have enough of a brain to figure it out yourself?”
“I’ll tell you what I do have…” Smile wicked. Leaning into whisper, “And it’s something that you won’t stick in her even in your wildest fuckin’ dreams-”
“You fucking-”
“Ahem.”
A cough.
Not the annoying, grating voice of his brother (thought both the brothers).
But rather…something sweeter. Softer. Stern in a way that made both their cocks prick up just a tad-
They’re snapping their heads over to stare at you—you with your eyes narrowed, and your foot tapping. They both feel a lurch in their stomach as they wonder just how long you’d been standing there - just how much you’d heard.
They both gulp.
Your gaze takes its time travelling up the vision before you: the older brother with his fingers dug into the other’s hoodie, the younger brother with his fists clenched as though he was about to punch the other. Both their forearms pop with veins that decorate their muscles- even Satoru with his bulky frame covered in his soft clothes. “Gojo Satoya…”
The man in question plasters a smile across his face, “Yes, baby?”
“Let go of him-”
His fingers unclench.
Satoru is slumping onto his chair.
Satoya turns around and starts walking to you in an instant- “Baby, what are you doing here~?”
“Tutoring, because someone made me miss another one of Yaga’s classes.” Holding up your bag in emphasis, and at least Satoya has the decency to look sheepish.
“Aw, you know m’sorry about that.” He answers, sounding utterly unapologetic.
“Right…” Not that you believed him a single bit. Your narrowed gaze drifts past him and ends up resting on the slightly-ruffled man sitting at the table. “What are you even doing here? I didn’t think you knew the way to the library.”
“Hey!”
In the slight distance, Satoru stifles a laugh.
Satoya whips behind to glare at him- before turning back to you. “Just ah- you know, extending the invite to my party tonight.” And before you could interrogate him on why exactly an invitation constituted of having one’s hand at one’s brother’s throat—he’s turning to the little audience you’d gathered and yelling out. “And you fuckers are invited as well.”
The cheers are drowning out your questions.
“Toya- what-”
“Mmmm—” Before you’re getting cut off by his mouth on yours. Tongue piercing cold. “That new lip gloss of yours tastes good, baby.”
But how strange it was that once he’s breaking away from the slightly-heated kiss, you find Satoya’s eyes on none other than his own brother. Staring at the expressionless man as he claims your lips as his own.
His own.
Satoya leaves the library with a smack on your ass.
And you’re left off-kilter by the whole ordeal, wobbling on weakened legs to the chair opposite Gojo Satoru. Head down. Books open. Fingers twitching ever-so-slightly. There was a strange air about him, as unpiercing as concrete, that reminded you of however Satoru was when he was taking a particularly tough exam. He doesn’t meet your eyes as you take your seat before him, pulling out your books, your laptop, your excuses.
The chair screeches much too loud in the awed library.
“Honestly, I don’t know what’s the matter with him.” You’re sighing, “He’s been strange all week.”
Satoru doesn’t answer, but you continue.
“And he knows that I have that thing with you tonight- he knows that but he still keeps insisting I go to that damn party.”
He still doesn’t say a word.
“I’m not going, of course.” You start to open one of your notebooks, “I promised I’d spend time with you, Satoru. It’s just so calming to be with you—”
In his peripheral vision, he can see you start to rub your temples. And he can’t help but jolt—he would never make you feel like that.
And maybe that’s what makes Gojo Satoru lurch up from his seat and kiss you.
Kiss you.
Soft.
Fleeting.
Barely even a graze- his face burns the prettiest sunset pink. Hot enough that he’s sure steam emerges from his parietal bone, that his eyes tear up, that he feels feverish. Something inexplicable bubbles up from all the way deeeep within his core, and it expels as a few wobbly apologies murmured against your lips.
Before you’re grabbing ahold of his chin n’ tugging him to you.
“Th-that was my first kiss…” He whispers.
You smile.
.
.
.
Gojo Satoya’s party would be in full swing by now.
You’ve found that they usually peaked after midnight, with most of the fraternities joining and the music concocting into one booming heartbeat. The pulse of youth. It shook the walls of the Delta Jujutsu Pi mansion, it seeped into your very circulatory system and left Satoya’s parties addictive—it would have you in his bed by the end of the night, without fail.
But time spent with Satoru was the exact opposite.
In the best way.
Even sitting next to Gojo Satoru had his warmth seeping into every particle of your being, and it left you buzzing with his soothing energy. Like dipping into a hot spring. Like taking a loooong nap during a scalding summer.
It was the same relaxing sort of feeling after a sip of wine.
Like you could speak about anything and everything with him. Like you could make as many mistakes in his presence as you liked. And it wouldn’t matter—he would still wobble out that familiar, crooked smile.
It seemed as though the more of those stern, sterile layers you cracked through- the more you wanted to surge through even more. With much more gusto than Satoru would argue that you put in during your tutoring sessions, you admit (but what he doesn’t know is that you might just…organize a few more than you actually needed). Just a few more.
Just to see him.
And Satoru was smart, you had a nagging feeling that he knew. But he let you stumble your way through your notes anyway.
He left you drunk on the proximity of him, while his brother left you exhilarated.
You suppose you had Satoya to thank for that.
Because he was the only reason you actually encountered Satoru. Just one encounter before you’d actually bothered him into giving his phone number, prompting your tutoring sessions.
Before, you’d only seen Satoru in a blur of white hair n’ Pokemon hoodies- racing about from class to class.
He was always the first - both to class, and to the top of the grades list.
The stark opposite of his brother, who’d gotten into Tokyo Jujutsu University on a basketball scholarship. Satoru had three papers published under Nature, several student lectures under his belt, and a dorm lined with more trophies than atomic specks of dust. It was also agreed-upon by most in the department that he’d been picked personally by JAXA to work there the second he graduated.
And you’d always assumed that the man would be the uptight type - most people with so many accomplishments would be so. Though his brother, Satoya, with his equally impressive athletic accolades—it’d still been a surprise to find that Gojo Satoru was rather…shy.
He’d blushed furiously the first time he’d met you - in the unfortunate circumstance of walking inside Satoya’s room without knocking. Right when his brother had his head between your legs.
Though Satoya had laughed himself hoarse, it’d taken you forty-five minutes to get the bespectacled man to stop apologizing to you. And then only five to convince him that no- you weren’t dating his brother.
You remember the glare that Satoru had leveled at him then, pushing up his bangs to help it. “Figures.” He’d scoffed, whilst Satoya had calmed down just enough to stop his snickers. “He wouldn’t have been able to woo you like that anyway-”
“Woo? Woo—telling me about wooing-” Satoya had dramatically flailed into Satoru’s arms then, hand at his chest. “Dost thou knoweth anything about bagging the baddie? And here I thoughteth thou wast a virgin-”
“Sh-shut up—!” He’d thrown Satoya off, eyes flickering urgently between you and his brother. And it wasn’t long before the last you’re seeing of the blushing, babbling mess of Satoru was a stomp towards the door.
The slam of it.
Before it’s opened again just a crack-
“And in Shakespearean terms, I would technically be a maiden!”
You giggle just thinking about it.
And it makes the man in question look over with a quirked brow, sweater matching the same shade of pastel pink that he blushes. “S-sorry, I’m probably boring you-”
“Not at all.” You’re cutting him off in an instant. Fervently shaking your head, you join Satoru down upon his bedroom floor—carefully avoiding the blocks and pinches of Lego that were scattered around him like a blood spatter. It had been a slow, almost strangely sensual night - he’d invited you to his apartment where he’d cooked dinner for you.
A traditional Japanese course of dishes that he’d learned from his mother, he told you. Topped off ice cream homemade through the principle of freezing point depression.
He’d planned to make a strawberry shortcake, he said. But it seems in his frenzy to make everything perfect, he’d lost track of time and ended up with sweet-smelling char—sure, you’d come over to hangout with Satoru before. But to hangout on Valentine’s Day…
This was territory uncharted for Gojo Satoru.
Hell, he’d had his first kiss just the other day.
And so you’d been led inside his apartment- now a wonderland of the sweetest fairy lights and crooning tunes playing from one corner of the space. There, Satoru was the perfect gentleman—giving his arm out to walk you the mere few meters to the decorated dining table, tucking in your chair, plating his creations for you.
Made just how you liked them. How did he even remember?
It was a wonder to Satoru himself how he didn’t bumble or trip over his own two feet. And before long, the two of you had finished dinner and numerous conversations- carrying them over inside his bedroom.
Where he’d…pulled out a brand-new Lego set and gotten to work on it.
You’d found it more interesting to watch him - that focused furrow between his brows, the way his tongue stuck out ever-so-slightly - from the foot of his mattress. Unable to catch a glimpse of the box before Gojo stuffed it underneath his bed, you were only left to wonder just what it was he was building with so many reds and pinks.
He’s staring up at you unsurely now, and you insist. “I wanna see you build this, Satoru.”
“Are you sure?” He lets the long green spindle drop from his hands. Tugging down on the thick sleeves of his sweater, “I know that Toya has his party tonight and I p-promise I won’t be upset if you wanted to go there instead, y’know?”
“But I decided I’d spend Valentine’s Day with you.” You insist, “And spend Valentine’s Day with you—I will. I don’t need any party.”
“But-”
“Satoru.”
He’s giggling shyly to himself.
He takes the half-built piece of Lego in his hand and gets back to work on it—and you find yourself inching even closer to him. Knees pressing against crossed knees. Shoulders against shoulders.
“What are you building, by the way?” You ask. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lego pieces like that…”
Concentrating on the miniature pieces through his ivory bangs. “You’ll see, sweetheart.”
And you don’t know whether it’s the smile on his lips, the dimple at the end of his grin, or that little pet name he’d given you—sweetheart—that made your heart race. Feeling your heart flip in that small but noticeable way it did whenever Satoya was around. Both of them? Whatever will you do with yourself.
It isn’t long before Satoru’s Legos start to form a clearer picture, and he’s working nimbly with the pieces.
In just a few minutes he has his body hunched- partially obscuring your view from the final touches to his creation. And soon enough, he’s pushing his glasses up his nosebridge, leaning back and thrusting out a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers you’ve ever seen. Plumes of rose and red and creamy white.
Little ferns on the side. Little hearts in the centers of his daisies.
He flushes fever-red as you take them from him. “F-for you.”
Satoru’s tone breaks at his confession.
“Satoru, they’re…” You’re breathless. The tip of your finger runs down the delicate petals that he’d spent time assembling, “I-I don’t even know what to say.”
“It’s for you.” He repeats, slightly firmer this time. “It was always for you.”
You’re snapping your head up to meet his determined blue eyes. So intense that they almost sparkled- “What do you…”
“Everything I do is for you—and that’s hard when I’ve always…” Satoru cuts himself off short. Slightly shaking his head, “But you deserve better than him.”
“Satoya?”
“Yes—” Breathed out as if he’d been wanting to say this for forever. “It’s hard when you look at my brother like…that- and I know that this isn’t my place. I know that this isn’t right of me to say. I know that this is selfish of me to request, but if you could just see…”
“See?”
“See that you deserve better than him.” His hands clasp your own around the ever-lasting stems. “And that- this isn’t fair of me to tell you let alone ask…but if you could just see that I—”
“What- that yer fucking shit at confessions?”
But of course, who else would it be but Gojo Satoya?
Pushing Satoru’s bedroom door further open and waltzing into the space- his towering frame almost seemed too large for the small space, almost left you breathless. Even though you knew that there wasn’t much of a height difference between the two-
Satoya’s hand on your wrist is instant. He bends down to meet eye-level with his brother on the floor, “Honestly, little brother, I would’ve had more respect for you if I’d walked in here and you were fuckin’ my girl right now.” He tugs you to his chest. “But here you got to her before me.”
“Feels good to be first, older brother.”
Suddenly they’re both on their feet - and so are you. Pressed between them—attempting to push away the two brothers from each other. From Satoya spitting, “That was supposed to be me giving those flowers to her- you knew. You fucking knew-”
“You thought she’d wait around forever?” Satoru crosses his arms. “And what were you doing on Valentine’s Day, huh?”
“Oh, grow up-”
“You grow up. While you were throwing one of your damn parties I-”
“I cancelled that damn party.”
That makes everyone pause.
And Satoya continues. He was looking right at you now- “You think there’d be anything to celebrate if you aren’t there beside me?”
And you can’t help but notice that there’s something slightly more…tender in Satoya’s tone. Something slightly more vulnerable- almost broken. There’s a sincerity in his eyes that makes him look younger, and it makes you squirm.
Something that Satoru’s sharp eyes pinpoint instantly- and he’s reaching out to tug you to him. This time being wrenched from his brother’s grasp and to you, “You can’t do that- you can’t just barge in here and try to disrupt what I’ve been wanting to do for so long—”
“And you think I haven’t?”
“What makes you think-”
“I knew her first-”
“I knew I loved her longer-”
“I know I loved her better-”
Satoru hisses. Pointing an accusing finger at the other man, “Says the man without the balls to even confess.”
“Says the damn virgin who only wishes he could touch her.” Satoya’s voice grows louder. He takes a step closer, and Satoru doesn’t back down. “Don’t act so high and mighty when you and I both know about the hoodie underneath-”
“Don’t you fucking dare-”
“Can you both shut the fuck up?!”
Your exasperated tone breaks through the argument- leaving the room ringing with silence thereafter.
And so you finally say your piece—“You guys…” Massaging your throbbing temples, the Lego bouquet was still in your hands- and you’re just now realizing that the t-shirt you’d been wearing was Satoya’s. Both of them on you. Around you. “How about we solve this like the civilized adults that we are?”
Satoya scoffs, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. “Tch- yeah, and how do you suppose that?”
“Though I’d be more than happy to hear you out, sweetheart, I can’t promise to conduct myself according to such methodology.”
And so you tell them.
And the silence after is deafening—
“You want us to what-”
“Anatomically, is that even-”
“No way.” Satoya stabs a finger at his brother. “I don’t wanna see this fucker’s two-inch-”
“Mine’s likely bigger than yours-”
“Fucking right-”
“Want to bet?”
It’s only a few minutes later before both brothers have their hands on you- have their mouths dragging down your neck. From the front, from behind. One of them kissing down your spine. One of them nibblin’ on your collarbone—and you can only flutter your eyes closed and fucking moan at the sensation.
Two hot, needy mouths on you.
All over you.
Someone - it must be Satoru - leans his head down and captures your mouth as his own. He lavishes the soft edge of his tongue between your wettened crevice, and gaaasps as you’re opening your mouth for him.
Clearly never having kissed anyone so deeply- anyone like this at all—he whimpers as he’s shyly meeting your tastebuds with his. “S-sweetheart-”
“Oh, lemme show ya how it’s done.” Physically pushing his brother away with a hand on his face- Satoya cranes his neck from behind you. A hand clasping your throat and tuggin’ you to meet his ravenous lips—“This is how you kiss a girl.”
And before he’s smoochin’ you, he purses his lips and spits a great dollop of saliva that falls gently into your maw.
Sloppy.
Satoya barely spends the time wipin’ the excess splatter away before he’s roughly shoving his tongue inside. Swirling his textured tastebuds across every single inch of you—letting his curvaceous tip tickle the back of your throat.
Whenever Satoya kissed you, it almost felt as if he was fucking you with his tongue.
Again and again. And his wet muscle scrapes the sides of your mouth as he’s jostling it back and forth- leaving you weak in the knees.
“See?” He scoffs at his younger brother. “Gotta kiss her till she’s stupid.”
“How uncouth.” Satoru pushes his glasses up. “Let me try.”
And then the other twin takes over- how dizzying it was to have a man with the same features, but with such different mannerisms. Satoya relentlessly leaves half-moon nail marks on your skin when he sets you free, but Satoru leans in and cups your face like a delicacy—even as his brother scoffs at the act.
“She likes being fucked dirty, lemme tell you.”
Satoya’s lewd remark is lost to the way that Satoru purses his pretty plump lips and spits—
More like drools.
A lecherous stream of spittle that ends up fallin’ onto your tastebuds- and he watches with widened eyes as you take it all in. All of it. Throat bobbing as it hits every orifice, Satoru feels it deep down in his cock once you tilt your head back and swallow-
Looking straight into both their eyes as you do.
“O-oh my-”
“Fuck.”
“I think m’gonna cum just from that.”
Satoya looks at Satoru, and they exchange a silent conversation with their gaze. Both murky blue-eyed and narrowed down at you- you’re given absolutely no warning before you’re being scooped up in a tangle of their strong arms. Satoya on your waist. Satoru cushioning your head.
They’re sprawling you out on Satoru’s bed and barely letting you hit the second bounce before they’re on you-
“Let me.”
“I hardly think that’s-”
“And which one of us does this pretty pussy like better?” Satoya pretends to cup his ear and listen - not to you, not to his brother. He’s listening to the drenched in-betweens of your legs, where if you press your thighs together then it lets out a faint squelch! “Exactly.”
Grumbling, Satoru decides to let Satoya have the bed space between your thighs.
The mattress dips where you needed them the most, and you’re feeling hot breath against your cunt. Scorching. Simmering. Taking your attention for the slightest second before you peer up at Satoru- smiling at the pouty man.
Wordlessly, you’re beckoning him with your hand.
And he seems to startle- before following your every word. Your every action. Your every syllable.
Gojo Satoru thinks he would kill a man just to have you look at him like this—always.
With your lashes fluttering up at him as he nears, with your fingertips eager to touch him- it feels like torture as soon as he’s near enough for you to play with his drawstrings. Your fingers curving into the soft cotton of his sweatpants, your palm skidding down the looooong cylindrical print of his dick. It was just so long and thick that it made you gape.
That it made your mouth water.
That it made your digits dip just below the hemline of Satoru’s grey sweatpants-
And Satoya - gruff at the attention you were drowning his brother in - decides to then drown himself in your wet pussy—he’s like a man starved. Barely leaving enough time to shove apart your legs, barely leaving enough time to push your panties to the side-
In fact, he doesn’t push your panties to the side before licking up your entrance.
Feeling for that cute vertical line of your slit through the drenched fabric. Satoya was lapping and tuggin’ apart both the underwear and your pussylips.
Lavishing just a flick of attention down your clit before he dives into your role.
Rough. Ruthless.
Rarely wasting a single second- rarely even waiting for you to accommodate his size. He just flops his lengthy muscle between your thickened folds, licking up the first few inches of your channel, before reaching back n’ fucking you in hard, rapid thrusts.
Again and again.
He’s pressing the silver orb of his piercing into every tender lil’ spot inside you.
And though Gojo Satoya was the mean type in bed, never have you known him to be this…greedy.
“S-sweetheart—” You didn’t even realize that you’d been momentarily rendered stunned by the sheer primal streeeeetch between your legs. Not until Satoru’s gasping tone permeates the air, and he’s jerking his hips up cutely. “Sweetheart, please-”
“Heh.” Satoya snickers into your cunt. The vibrations are zapping forces of electricity right up your spine-
Satoru ignores him. “I need you.” He confesses—and the sheer desperation in his voice is enough to make you buck, and to make Satoya grumble in annoyance. The older brother uses one hand to latch onto your pretty hips, roughly draggin’ you right back down onto the creaky bedsprings. That ancient furniture protests as you’re being pinned down.
And so does Satoru-
But Satoya’s cutting him off, “I don’t care what you do- but do not fuckin’ move her from my mouth.” His frigid tongue piercing sticking against the top of your clit and making you squuuuuirm. “I haven’t eaten all night.”
And your clouded mind is almost about to ask what he means-
Before he’s slitherin’ his tongue back down and flickering in and out of your hole- sliding across every hidden inch of you. Letting his prominent nose crush up against your nub.
“And this pussy’s always so tasty—”
“Fuh-fuck—!” It’s Satoru that breaks the lecherous slurps n’ squelches this time- through the cacophony, his voice rings out so prettily. Because just then you’d properly pulled down his sweatpants and taken the nerdy man’s thiiiiick, throbbing cock in your hands.
Your lips part.
Long. Rock-hard.
So hard, in fact, that this might as well have been the first time in his life that Gojo Satoru has ever been hard. It feels as though he was buuuuuurning up all the way from his globular red tip, splurgin’ out wads of precum that coat a sheen down your wrist. Gliding down to your elbow.
Actually- it wasn’t just sappy precum. It was globular beads of gleaming white that are escaping n’ escaping out of him the second you’re touching him.
Pretty round balls flinching. Every part of him was just the most innocent pink.
He throws his head back as he empties out volume after volume of his seed- so much in just a few seconds. Though not as much as he would like to, because in a split-second, Satoru reaches his hand down and plugs his leaking hole up with a thumb.
“Awww…” You’re pouting in disappointment. The excess of his cum drivels down your arm, creating patterns between your fingers.
He looks down at the sight of your voice and- fuck, he can’t handle it. He’s looking away.
Satoru can’t help but whimper. “Fuck, don’t say that. I th-think m’gonna cum again—”
“Already?” Satoya scoffs.
“Shut up.” Satoru bites back. And he might have all the endurance he needs to last all night with a textbook and his notes in front of him, but the studious man was now fighting for his life—whispering formulas underneath his breath just to bate his impending high again. So close. “Euler’s method of sequence consists of…”
But the more you’re feeling him, the harder Satoru grows.
He lays out heavily across your palm, the girth of his erection making you falter. A heft to him that makes you clench ‘round Satoya’s mouth—and the other man can’t help but grunt. He leaves a man spank! on top of your clit that leaves you squealing. “Are you focusing on me or my brother, baby?”
Barely managing to gurgle out, “B-both?”
By now you’d wrapped your fingers around Satoru’s swollen cock- giving his bulging tip slow n’ steady pumps. He chases your hand with rhythmic bucks.
But Satoya wasn’t done just yet-
After a single slide of his piercing, you’re feeling yet another slap. Rudely smearing his fingertips ‘round your clit- “Hmmm, I don’t think that’s good enough. Isn’t that right, Satoru?”
“Sh-shit—” Satoru shivers at the feeling of eyes on him. “I believe that’s right-”
“Mhmm—”
“W-what do you…” And it leaves your head dizzy to register just how fast the two brothers had gone from fighting to friends—to toying with your body together. They were meeting eyes and briefly nodding.
And it’s the last thing you’re seeing before Satoru tucks a hand underneath your chin and tilts your gaze up to his. “Forgive my disrespect, sweetheart.”
He wraps his larger fingers ‘round your own dominant hand- the one that’d been jerking off his cock. And with it all nice n’ tight, Satoru squeezes your hand at his base and starts thrusting—rutting. Like an animal in heat, he’s fucking the circular space your hand made as if he wishes it was your cunt.
“But the one you should be focusing on is me.”
Throwing a jealous look down at his grinning brother- mouth all glowing with slick. The bespectacled man tuts and reaches down to sneak his free hand underneath your t-shirt.
Dipping underneath your bra and directly groping your tits-
“Heh, look at you.” Satoya rolls his half-lidded eyes—already looking so murky with the juices of your pussy. More n’ more of it dripping down his chin as he’s thrashing his pierced tongue between your pussylips- faster n’ faster.
And the thing about Satoya was that he didn’t care if it made you squirm.
He didn’t care if it left your body restless.
He didn’t care- in fact, it was all the better if he could overstimulate you with only a few sloppy strokes. And with both Gojo twins - one babble away
Suddenly, you’re swearing that the circular metal of his piercing was hittin’ straight into one of your best spots. G-spot throbbing with pressure- and it’s making you plant your feet onto the edge of the mattress and buck-
And get draaaagged back down by Satoya’s ruthless hands. Stuck to you like adhesive.
“You seriously think I’d let my dinner escape so easily?” He asks, more to himself. His rasping tone makes a primal part of you open up, and the frat president giggles at just how much wetter you’re getting. “Awwww, look how much wetter she’s getting f’me.”
Peeking up at his brother and watching him flinch. Possessive, possessive.
Satoru pinches your right nipple. Capturing where you were softest between two fingers, he teases that peak. “There is not enough evidence for that conclusion.”
And Satoya has to admit that he feels your cunt glistenin’ even more at Satoru’s ministrations. “I don’t do any of that science shit-”
“You don’t do anything-”
“Except eat my girl out goooooood.” Dipping his tongue in and out—this time, Satoya was expanding his tastebuds and showin’ off the sheer layers of your juices that stuck to him. He always did have an incredible length to him, shovelling properly in, in, in. “Jealous?”
Satoru shivers as the crown tip of your thumb rubs down his cockhead’s slit. “N-no, because her mind’s on me anyways-”
“You fuckin’ wish.”
You almost forgot just how competitive the two could be - united in ruining you, but breaking apart at the very seams. It both bothered and turned them on to think about havin’ to drag your attention away from the other man, to think about accelerating their pace until it was nothing but a blur—Satoru’s cock clasped between your fingertips, Satoya’s tongue dipping in and out of your hole.
Fishing out so many ribbony wires of slick that it’s formulating a puddle down below. He just knew your pussy so well, and Satoru just had this utter need to him that was-
“It’s me that you want, right?” Satoru leans down to hush against the shell of your ear- his scorching hot breath setting your entire body alight. “It’s-”
“Now that’s just playing dirty.” In retaliation, Satoya slaps your clit one more—and it makes you see stars. Just because that makes your fist tighten around his brother’s cock, he lands at least three more sharp spanks before lashin’ his tongue piercing against your clit once more. A few more times as if to soothe the sting, “Didn’t know you had it in you, Satoru.”
“Oh, please…” Satoru looks away. “That’s why she should’ve been with me from the start-”
“Now that’s pushing it.”
Two more direct slams of his fingertips against your cunt- that part of you felt just as raw as your walls by this point.
You’re bucking up against the dampened sheets- “Please- oh…”
“What’s that?”
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“I th-think I’m gonna-”
“Shush, baby.” To your shock, Satoya shushes you both. Right before you could finish your sentence- he merely lugs his gaze back down to admire your pretty pussy
And you were almost sure you were hallucinating, because there was no way, there could be absolutely no way…but Gojo Satoya was fucking your cunt with his mouth and nodding along to every noise he produces.
Humming at the slurps, affirming at the squelches.
Almost as though he was in deep conversation with your soppin’ wet core, Satoya licks a few more times up your crevice. Before he’s finally looking up with a faux-apologetic grin, “Sorry- she’s chatty today. My pussy says she’s about to cum.”
Your jaw drops-
“Toya, you’re fucking filthy.”
He slips his metallic piercing against the roof of your cunt, thud-thud-thud—! Probing in so deep as if to say that he knows he is- and his brother bucks up even harder into your soft palm. So needy. “Th-that’s not possible.” Satoru gasps out, pushing his condensation-filled glasses further up his nose. “According to my research, there is no linguistic nature of the genitalia-”
“This is why yer a fuckin’ virgin.” Satoya rolls his hazy eyes.
Before you know it, the older of the two brothers leans upwards and bites his canines around your clit. That throbbing nub was stuck between his perfect lips- he counts a few heartbeats from your cunt, before wrenching his mouth back. Murmuring deep into your pussy—“Watch and learn as I make her cum, little brother. She’ll be thinking of me as I make her cum.”
“Sh-shit, Toya…”
Blue eyes meet bespectacled blue eyes- and Satoru’s gaze narrows. “She’ll cum because of me.” His fingers - so honed from all his sharp note-taking - finds it easy to twist n’ turn your nipples in all the ways you liked.
He was alternating between both, flickering his thumb around your soft areolas.
“That’s the spirit.” Satoya says, almost talking down. “But m’doing it first-”
“I disagree-”
“At least use her mouth.” Muffling against your pussylips, Satoya’s mouth opens up so wiiiiiide to engulf every part of your dripping wet cunt. Like Satoru, he was following an alternating method that has his textured tastebuds hittin’ the inside of your channel one second, and counting the throbs of your clit the next.
Satoya raises an unimpressed brow, “Well? What’re you waiting for? I told you she’s a dirty girl-”
“Shut up, m’not delaying…” Though he was. He really, really was. Satoru hesitates - not because he didn’t want to—fuck, how he wanted to.
How he really, really wanted to.
But he’s on his sixtieth formula by now and already about to explode- already dribblin’ out milky wads of precum. It was growing thicker and more incessant by the second, and Satoru could feel himself trembling, he could feel his heavy balls start to clench—
And yet that smug look on his brother’s face is enough to spur him into action.
Satoru jerks his hips just a little too hard on purpose- and all it takes is the tiniest glide between your puckered lips for him to shatter.
Into all sorts of zillions of pieces. Into looooong ribbony wires of cum that dribble down like a waterfall from the agitated red divot at his tip.
It’s letting out all sorts of lecherous noises as he cums—and soon enough your vision’s flooded with white. Just the most gleaming layers of his ivory sap that drench you, and at this point you can’t quite worry about it getting everywhere n’ all into your hair- because Satoya’s quirking his tongue just right to make you cum.
To tip you over the edge.
Those waves of pleasure break across every inch of your being- leaving your limbs trembling. Toes curling. Spine arching - making it all the more easy for Satoya to grab your hips in one hand and make you rut against him. He’s lashin’ out thorough strokes against every inch of your clit, the tip of his tastebuds resting teasingly on your clit.
Feeling for just how much your hole quivers for him- and you’re quiverin’ away just enough, Satoya fucks you through the peaks of your high. Peak after peak.
His younger brother elongates those white-hot whizzes of pleasure by twisting your nipples. Toying. They were just so sensitive after so much contact, making you shake into him.
Your tongue sticks out to taste more of his salted caramel seed.
And your head clouds with raw carnal pleasure, “P-please, it feels so good—” Lips wobbling, both brothers lean in to see which name you’re ending your sentence off with. “-Gojo.”
They’re sharing looks with each other.
And then they’re looking at you.
“Now now, we can’t have that.” Satoya croons.
“If that was a question during our practice tests, sweetheart, you’d get zero marks.” Satoru breathes out, finally having caught his breath. Though he still slightly trembled with the aftershocks of his orgasm, swirlin’ the roundness of his cockhead down your mouth—“Shit.”
He pulls away before he cums yet again.
“Newton’s first law of gravity…”
“Fuckin’ virgin.” Satoya repeats. “Pussydrunk from just- hah, that-”
“I beg your pardon-”
“Pussydrunk from just that-” He’s spankin’ down on your clit with his tongue- “Isn’t that right, baby? He should be more like- mmpf, me—” Struggling to get through the constant thrashes of his tongue, the way his jaw unhinges further. “Should be more in control-”
“Fuck-” Fucking his pierced tongue back into your struggling channel - it makes you gasp.
“Should be more—fuck, nonchalant. Heh.”
“Toya, again-”
“Should be more…mmmm.”
And it’s then that you’re realizing that Gojo Satoya wasn’t planning to finish his sentence - he wasn’t planning to even pull away. He was further reaching between your legs and gasping as he fucked your cunt with his mouth again and again and again-
“Move.”
When pushing doesn’t work, Satoru grabs ahold of Satoya’s hair and wrenches the man away from your pussy—fuck. You could feel yourself growing unfairly wetter at the surprising forcefulness to the nerdy man.
Before long, Satoya’s been pushed aside whilst the bespectacled twin fits himself between your legs.
Satoya raises a brow as if waiting-
One impatient tick that turns into something of impressive nature—because without warning, Satoru spits. Messy, just like his twin had.
“I have to wash him off.” He murmurs, watching the line of spit fall vertically down your slit. Before he lurches his face into your cunt soooo far deep that you’re sure he wouldn’t be able to breathe. And he’s eating you out like he doesn’t need to.
Doesn’t care to.
White brows furrowing, a moan cracks at the back of his throat. Fingers tightening. Blue eyes going wide. There’s an electric current that runs through Satoru’s body- like the first taste of your treacly pussy had him seeing heaven itself.
Those pearly gates were openin’ up wide for him—and so were your legs.
And it’s on pure animal instinct that he jerks himself even closer. Unfastening his maw, he’s sloshin’ his wet muscle inside again and again.
And again and again.
His first time tasting pussy, and he was gone already.
The length of Satoru’s tongue was about as incredible as Satoya’s, though slightly less flexible. But it was that lumbering inexperience of his that made his entrances feel so good - constant, with no rhyme or reason other than sticking inside so sloppily that it made your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“I need to…oh.” Satoru gasps out into your pussy. Grabbing your quivering flesh even tighter- “I need to—ngh, fuck.”
“Need to what, Toru?” You’re asking in that pretty voice of yours.
And it’s damn near enough to make him cum again- urging his body to rut against yours. “I need- fuck. I need to r-remember my studies…”
“Your studies?”
“Hah- you studied?” Satoya snickers out from somewhere above you. “Nerd.”
It gives you a good jolt to realize that he’d somehow walked right up to where your body was laid, making the bed creak once he rests his thick kneecaps against the mattress. The area beside your head dips as the older brother inches closer—
Satoru nods belatedly at your question. “I r-read about this during one of my…long and lonely nights.” Peering up at you through his long lashes, something unreadable in his eyes. “Fucked my cock raw learning about how I’d make you feel good.”
Rutting. Humping the mattress.
“I read about it in medical journals- I even read about it on sex forums.” He pants out, “And I—I fucking took notes…” Looking around his room as though to grab them right now. “But now, I just can’t remember…”
Plastering those slick lips of his against your entrance—and then whimpering as he pulls away- for but a mere second before he lands back down. A few more open-mouthed kisses prior to the entire sequence repeating.
Like he was struggling not to lose himself to your cunt.
Like he was struggling not to kiss n’ kiss his swollen mouth against your pussy - you were just too addictive. He was fighting with himself to actually wrench away from your sloppy hole n’ clear his head. The valedictorian was stumped.
He stares down intensely at your drivelling pussy, his glasses frames crushing against your folds.
Pouting against your clit at this little dilemma- meanwhile Satoya comments something about how it was a miracle that Satoru found the clit in the first place.
“Pussy so good ya can’t even think.” The older twin is tittering down at you.
And it’s the last thing you’re hearing—before suddenly whatever noises erupted in your throat are being fuuuucked back down.
With a singular stripe of his rotund cockhead. Thick and aching.
Pounding away at the back of your neck. In those brief moments that you’d been distracted, the other brother had tugged down his ripped jeans and boxers. Bearing your lips with his thickening tip - from up-close, it seemed as though Satoru might actually have been longer.
But Satoya was heeeefty and fat enough that he always left your thighs pressing together.
That flared tip of his glistens in the dim light, it perfectly illuminated the patterns of his veins. So many of them coverin’ the circumference and length of him, whirling their way ‘round and ‘round and—and now you were feeling those very same patterns indent in the back of your throat.
The nerd was longer while the frat boy was thicker.
Satoya pulls his hips back and leaves you gasping- “Heh…”
Just to watch how you’re ruined on his fat fuckin’ cock.
You’re barely blinking before suddenly Satoya’s hounding figure finds itself climbing properly onto the bed- with each of his incredibly thick legs straddling your face. Muscles flexing whilst Satoya crushes you between his thighs and fucks that pretty mouth of yours.
With harsh, humpin’ thwacks! of his tannish cockhead. He tastes like a slightly sweeter version of his brother, you feel sinful admitting - and that wonderous part of your brain thinks that it might be because of Satoya’s better diet as an athlete-
Thwack! Thwack!
“Oi—” He’s slammin’ the rounded edge of his tip down on your tongue. One hand on your chin to gape your jaw wide enough for him, “Don’t zone out w’me, baby.”
“I wasn’t…” You mumble stubbornly.
“Yeah, right.” Satoya snickers. He’s then back to bumpin’ away his swollen cockhead at your throat- reaching for that lil’ dangly thing that he always loved to play with.
It was just obscene how much your lips were stretching and gaping around his thick size.
Smearing your pretty lipstick down his shaft—shit, he might just get that shit tattooed on his cock. Decorating every solid inch of him with the looooong sensual fucks he was planting into your dewy wet mouth. “See that?” Satoya calls over his shoulder, “My girl was fuckin’ bored with you eating her out.”
“Erm- actually—”
“Shut up and do yer job.”
Satoru pushes his thick glasses up his nose- “Fuck off.” Pretending he doesn’t hear his brother’s chuckles. And you have to realize that Gojo Satoru wasn’t the valedictorian for no reason - he was nothing if not determined. And if he was an academic weapon, then surely he could be a weapon between your legs, too?
Somehow, he’s so pussydrunk that he whispers this between your legs. Almost as if a promise to your pussy.
And right—there was another reason he was valedictorian.
He had a damn good memory.
“Th-the Gräfenberg spot is typically located on the anterior vaginal walls.” He’s rattling off- now removing his greedy mouth (but only with a few extra kisses) to reach up with shivering fingers. Satoru’s slender fingertips pry apart your swollen folds, pressin’ inwards sensually.
“Oh—” You’re gasping as much as you could - though it was so difficult with Satoya’s cock stuffing your orifice.
And Satoru gapes at the quivers of your pussy- “About two to three inches up the mucosa, it’s part of the prostate system that—” The rest of his sentence gets swallowed up by Satoya grabbing either side of your sweaty head and using it as leverage. Digging his neat nails into your skin, he ruts down into you like he’s furious-
“And has a theorized structure of vascular networks causing sexual stimulation.” He rasps out, mouth now moved to gulp at your pretty clit. Satoru watches his brother fuck your poor maw- and his two fingers start matching his pace. Meeting it.
Hard and frenzied.
You’re feeling one prod at the back of your throat, and then another into the deepest depths of your cunt.
Velvety walls clamping down on Satoru’s digits as though trying to memorize him in there—his pretty fingertips. Souring every inch of you. Faster and faster, he gets more ravenous to find that gooey spot inside that he knows would make you feel good-
“Need any help, little brother?”
Satoru scowls, “Never.”
“Heh, alright.” Satoya responds, “But just know that m’not going easy on my girl.”
“I’m not going easy on my girl, either.”
And then it happens- all in one go.
Satoya bottoms out until your nose presses against the curls of white at his base.
Satoru pumps his fingers into your throbbing g-spot.
And he realizes by the way you’re clenching.
Immediately. He jerks his nimble fingers back and thrashes in just a few more times- targeting that one bundle of nerves. And perhaps it’s in their genetics, because both Satoru and Satoya are able to aim every movement to perfectly strike that spot.
That round, throbbing spot.
He’s scrapin’ his fingertips on the wettened area of it—“I found it…” Breathless, as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “I really found it- it’s right here—” Demonstrating by making a long slide down that sweet spot, “Right on this part of the adventitia that has this little- fuck.”
“Ngh—fuck, that feels good.” You’re muffling out between gasps. Satoya’s furiously hard cockhead hittin’ your throat once more. He fills you up with both his dollops of pre and his inches-
“Tch, beginner’s luck.” Satoya scoffs. “Now, the real challenge is getting that pretty pussy to cum- you see, I’m her favorite so-”
“Uh-huh.” Satoru nods - not at his brother. But down at your pussy—“Really? Because she says I’m her favorite now.”
“D’you copy during your exams, too?”
“Are you a sore loser during your games, too?”
With barbed words exchanged from both sides, they’re both toying with your pretty body. So cute and overstimulated like this- so it’s no surprise that with only a few more strokes of Satoru’s fingers, and with a few more thrusts of Satoya’s cock, you’re falling apart all over again.
All because of them.
Push after push.
Rub after rub.
Fucking you through the riotous peaks of your orgasm.
Since this was your second in a short amount of time, they were sharper n’ more unpredictable than before.
The only thing you can do is lean back into the rickety mattress and take everything you’re given, those bursts of pleasure turning nearly unbearable every time Satoru bruises your pretty g-spot. Memorized its place. Studied it.
Digging past your elastic walls like he’d go even deeper if he could. He wonders how much further till your womb…
Meanwhile Satoya reaches behind him to slap your poor, puckered nipples.
They were ripe after his brother’s groping earlier, and all the other man has to do is spank you around a little to make your body writhe. “P-please-”
“Awww, don’t cry, my poor baby.” Satoya’s roughened fingertips then move to wipe your tears. Gently dragging his knobbled tips down the side of your wet face- “How’re you gonna suck my cock if you’re crying?”
At this, your jaw drops. And Satoru can’t help but startle out a laugh—“You’re a fucking animal, you know that?”
“I know.”
“Be nice.”
“Nah.”
And to your surprise, Satoru isn’t reprimanding him anymore - he’s simply peeking up and taking pleasure in the sight of you havin’ every inch of your mouth ruined. Until your lips were swollen. Until your nose tingled at the scratch of his unruly white happy trail—and Satoya himself can’t help but trek his left hand down and piiiiiinch your nostrils closed. Still shoveling his cck at a frenzied pace.
Just to watch you squirm.
Satoru hums something interested.
And pinches your clit—
You think you might be shattering into your third high of the night, your fourth.
Either way, all you know is that a few seconds have passed by the time you’re blinking your hazy eyes open again - cunt sensitive, throat shot - and staring down at the vision of Satoru and Satoya who’ve regrouped themselves to the foot of the bed now.
They’d both climbed aboard now, and it dipped with pressure.
It’s as if you were seeing double.
You stare wide-eyed at the men who looked so-very alike: their mouths swollen n’ dripping with your slick, their cocks dripping with their own.
Messy white hair.
Glazed blue eyes.
It was impossible to pick which one was more handsome- both so attractive in two completely different ways. Both so attractive even when they were…playing rock-paper-scissors?
“Rock-”
“Paper-”
“Scissors-”
“Shoot-”
“I win.”
Satoru holds up the paper in retaliation to Satoya’s rock—and the other man looked as though he could so-very-conveniently punch the other man with it. Satoya’s brows furrow, eyes flickering over from his brother to you. “I’m sorry, baby. Your Toya tried-”
“Hey-”
But the other man is merely sighing as he finds himself thrown next to you, taking off his jacket and coaxing you into his big arms. And how could you deny?
Satoya was chiselled until it was almost unfair- how could a man in real life possibly look this good? It was almost Herculean in nature, with the most luscious pecs and abs that could go on for daaaaays—there was a natural attractiveness to them that drew your eyes. And you could already feel your mouth watering at the thought of being wrapped up in him- which, of course, makes the older twin flex up at Satoru.
Despite cumming in your mouth moments prior, Satoya was rock-hard. Just the slightest cap of creamy white covering his mushroomy tip.
One that he’s swiping on his thumb and reaching up to press between your lips. “Drink up, now.” He’s cooing down at you, pushing in the rest of the remnant sap across your face. Gojo Satoya had left a mess. “Yer gonna need it with this fucker-”
“Oh.” At Satoru’s protests, you turn to him. “But I think he’ll do great- won’t you, Toru?”
Satoya looks at you incredulously, “Baby, he’s a virgin—you think he’ll be able to fuck you like he deserves-”
“I fear it has slipped your mind that I’m right here-”
“And he talks like that.”
Satoru pushes those glasses of his - now lacquered in a layer of your sweet, sweet sap - up his nose. For perhaps the first time tonight, he’s speaking out in an even tone. “Spread her legs f’me, big brother.”
“Eugh, get away from me.”
“I’m going to punch you.”
“Tch—” Satoya scoffs- but makes to rest his hands on your legs. He’s easily maneuvering you to sit against that toned chest you loved so much - your back against his front, your head falling back against his collarbone.
Practically a full nelson.
Both sets of his fingers dig against the flesh of your inner thighs- wrenching those trembly limbs open. And you’re helping him do so with a whimper- “Not too eager now, baby.” Satoya hums against your ear, “Satoru here’s gonna fuck you. And after that…this pretty pussy’s gonna be happy to feel me.”
As Satoru settles himself between your legs, Satoya’s hands dip higher and higher. The curvature of his fingertips tracing patterns across your sizzlin’ skin, he’s just about to reach between your pussylips and press on your clit when-
“Satoya.” Satoru’s voice sounds huskier than ever.
The sudden change in tone is what makes you turn your head- but it’s the sight of him that makes you keep your head tilted.
Satoru had tugged off his soft sweater by now—and what was underneath that soft sweater was anything but…Nearly as chiselled as his older brother, Satoru cocks his head to the side and watches your reaction.
Watches you gawk at the fine lines of his defined muscles, the way his biceps flexed as he throws his sweater off to the side. Toned pecs. A firm v-line.
Now, you’d always assumed that Gojo Satoru was the somewhat lanky type- perhaps somewhere in the middle? He was tall and broad, but those loose clothes of his made it hard to determine anything other than the fact that he had really good shoulders. What an utter shock to realize that he had more than just good shoulders-
“It’s my N-New Year’s Resolution.” Satoru’s voice pipes up, this time in the softer, more familiar tone that you knew was his. You’re ripping your eyes away from his body (quite the difficult task) to meet his shy gaze. “I’ve been working out.”
Your jaw drops, “But it’s still February?”
“Genetics.” Satoya pipes up from behind you. Looking at Satoru- “And unfortunately we are related.”
“Shut it.” It seems that Satoru’s brash side only ever came out when he was with his brother - and he’s narrowing his blue peripherals at your core. “And spread my girl’s legs wider. I won’t fit between them otherwise.”
“Aye aye, captain.”
It’s not long before your hamstrings are being stretched as far apart as they’d go—and the burning pleasure in your limbs are almost as satisfying as the one between your legs. The one at your very dewy pussy that squelches as Satoru perks his hips closer.
One hand guiding his thick tip, the other pressing down on your right thigh.
“Fuck.” He gasps once his furious, red cockhead slides between your pussylips- just a few liiingering slides uuuuuup and down.
Satoru’s head falls forward. His body arches into yours.
He’s letting out a slew of curses every time he’s ruttin’ his hips against yours- not even properly fucking you, just sandwiching his thickened shaft between your pussylips. Feeling the way your sodden lips were swallowing him up—clenching.
Your hole wanted him so badly.
“Fuck fuck fuck-” the feeling of your inner mucosa. Satoru stumbles across his movements, properly positioning his tip now to actually push inside your entrance. There’s a line of drool gliding down the corner of his mouth. “Fuck.”
Over a million words in the English language, over 500,000 words in Japanese. Over 370,000 words in Modern Chinese, over 40,000 words in Classical Latin, and over 10,000 words in Swahili - and that’s not counting the languages that he wasn’t fluent in.
An abundance of words, and yet he can’t truly describe what he’s feeling when he first enters your pussy.
A sudden shiver scatters goosebumps across his body, and he’s straining his arm against your legs—you swear you could almost hear the slurp! of his precum emptying straight onto your pussylips. Inside. The sensation of feeling a pussy - your pussy - for the first time was almost too much for the inexperienced man, and he’s bucking.
He’s humping.
Probin’ aside your pussylips and stretching out your entrance into a wiiiiide ‘oh’. Though his brother might have been thicker than him, Satoru himself wasn’t exactly slender.
Though smooth n’ curved in just the way that let him slip inside—
“Fuck- you’ve taken my virginity.” He’s acting like an animal. “Quantum Field Theory—” A slurring sentence leaving him with every single thrust, it almost sounded as though he was drunk. “Electromagnetism-” He’s reaching so deeply inside of you with his curvaceous pink tip, just the crowned edge of his cock that was aiming to claim every spot inside you. Every hidden spot. “Fluid dynamics- Navier–Stokes equation is the application of F = ma to fluids-”
“I have another fluid dynamic for ya…heh.” Satoya grubs against the side of your temple. With a burst of scorched laughter, he’s leaning himself back against the mattress - and taking you right along with him.
And Satoru can’t help but chase your cunt with feral need.
Barely letting Satoya rest before he’s takin’ over your slick entrance to swirl n’ swirl his tip inside. Mazing inside. Mouth watering as his older twin rests his hands underneath your thighs and peeeels your legs even further to their sides.
It makes you squeal as you feel a sudden splosh! escape from your quivering cunt. “O-oh—now that’s just unfair.”
“Unfair?” Satoya scoffs. “What’s unfair is this fucker cumming early.”
“Huh?” Satoru cranes his head to look down at wherever nonsense- oh.
Oh…he really had cum early.
Creamy white sap froths your entrance like icing. Gluing against either side of your thighs, dribbling down the line of your slit. Every time that he’s lurching his cock in just an inch, a splurge of it glazes his rude cockhead and trickles down his shaft. From there, it looked as though your cunt was wearing the prettiest gloss upon your folds- and Gojo Satoru would definitely agree.
And it’s only then that the realization hits - to both you and the utterly pussydrunk Gojo Satoru - that he’d cum just from feeling your pussy.
Sometime during the first touch up your slit, n’ the first time he had thrusted—and of course, what else is one to do but admire their handiwork? What else is one to do but reel their hips back just a little and thrust and thrust—
Making Satoya giggle at the sheer force. He’s being pushed back against the damn headboard with every single sodden thrust into you- “Easy there, little brother.”
“Fuck off. Ejaculation is simply a natural process of the urethral meatus in response to stimulation- so what?”
“I’m just saying…” And with a single flick of his thumb, Satoya has your clit pulsing between his fingertips. “Keep going like that and yer gonna wear yourself out before you can ruin her—”
“Wh-what do you mean?” At this, Satoru looks up through his thick bangs.
“Cheh, didn’t yer damn research tell you this?”
And you’re watching the exchange like a tennis match - except you might just be the ball.
“S’not just fucking her like a madman.” Satoya lectures. As if to prove his point, he’s drawin’ a cute heart on top of your sensitive nub and making you shrill—then looking up at Satoru as if to say ‘see? “You’ve gotta know when to- fuck, toy with her pussy. You’ve gotta know when to drive her so wild with pleasure that she can take your cock properly- bottomed-out yet?”
Satoru looks down. “Not yet.”
Satoya nods, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him—except maybe when he was in the middle of some basketball tournament. The finals. Rubbin’ on your clit loooooong and slow- “Mmm, now try fucking this pretty pussy fast.”
“Mhm.”
And he does—fuck, he does.
The contrast between the frat president’s fingers on your clit - and the nerd’s cock between your trembling legs - was almost too much to handle. Your poor brain muddles up, and you’re bucking up into him—“Toru—Toya. Fuck.”
“See?” Satoya grins.
Satoru nods with an even wider grin.
“Now try going slow.”
This time, Satoya goes frenzied on top of your clit whilst Satoru’s fucking you in hard, thorough thrusts. Solid. Sudden. They were ones designed to reach the very back of your cunt, and you’re feeling the slamming pressure of each one in your throat-
Just trying to fit himself inside—
“Her- her epithelium, I can feel her stretching so much-”
After a few more minutes of this, Satoru’s hearing your cunt stutter out the loudest, most lecherous slurp! yet…
And he’s staring down with his half-lidded blue eyes to realize that he’d just bottomed-out. For the very first time in his life.
For the very first time, point-blank.
Bulging peripherals rolling to the back of his head, he swears he feels heaven in the way your sopping wet walls squeezed all of him. Every ridge and curve and even the rare vein—just a single clench more n’ he’s gonna start cumming deep into your womb.
Tears streaming down his cheeks, “Fuh-fuck.”
“I know, right?” Satoya muses from behind you. You’re whimpering as he lets go of your clit to reach a palm up- and Satoru meets the high-five with only slight wariness.
“Right on.”
And then it’s both of their urges to pleasure you.
Both working together. Both trying to one-up each other—before Satoya plants a loud smack! on top of your swollen folds.
And that will usually have Satoru startling at the sheer noise- gaping at how that only made you feel wetter ‘round his cock. “She really is a dirty fuckin’ girl…”
“Told you.”
Satoya’s thick fingertips travel from circling your clit to juuuuust a little further down, down, down. There, he teases your pussylips a little - rubbed raw from all the contact you’ve had tonight - down to your asscheeks.
Perfect and pretty.
Satoya gives them a little smack! before proceeding to spread them apart.
“Don’t tell me you’re…” Satoru sounds reproachful, but you could see the slight twitch of his lips.
“And so what?” The other twin plasters his lips to your temple, “If my pussy’s been taken over by my brother—then at least gimme that other cute hole, baby.”
Satoru shrugs, “As long as that thing isn’t touching me- eugh.”
You’re nodding, “Please-” Staring up into their two beautiful faces - one in front, one behind. “I want you both.”
“Dirty girl.” Satoya hums.
“Dirty girl.” Satoru agrees. “Can’t get enough of the Gojo twins, can you?”
You’re shaking your head.
Satoru smushes your cheeks together with one of his hands, tilting your face up to his. “Say it f’me, sweetheart?”
“I c-can’t…get enough—” And if you were in any other state right now, then you might just’ve been embarrassed at how whiny you sounded. “-of the Gojo…oh.”
And at that very moment, you feel Satoya’s thick, rounded cockhead pierce through your other hole.
It starts off slow—almost soothing. Just the silken globe of his erection, that mushroomy tip that passes through with little to no resistance - your body was always so pliant with Gojo Satoya. He takes pride in that fact.
But then comes…the rest of him.
How sinful that the more thicker of the twins was going into through your asshole- you could feel the tightness of your rim struggling to accommodate him. Feeling his prominent veins rub up against tender spots inside that you had no idea even existed, feeling his raw thickness inch inside and leave you sobbing.
“Oh my god—” You’re keening out at the feeling of Satoya easing inside. “T-Toya—”
And hearing you scream out his brother’s name- well, Satoru couldn’t fall too far behind, right? He was always the first in class, the first in the Physics Department, the first of the twins to pound your pretty pussy tonight - and he’s taking advantage of the fact.
He’s planting his heels down on the rickety mattress and shovelling.
Letting the reddened, swollen tip of his cock maze inside as if a searchlight aiming to find your most tender spots.
And perhaps it was muscle memory from earlier, perhaps it was sheer carnal nature—but it takes only one or two strokes for Satoru to probe deep inside and locate your g-spot. To ready his gluttonous tip and press a passionate welcome smooch against it.
You’re jolting as though struck by a million volts of electricity. “Toru—”
Like music to his ears, Satoru looks smugly down at his brothers. To which Satoya merely rolls his eyes and spreads his capped knees- in a single second, he’s arching his hips off the dampened mattress and puuuuushing that throbbing cock of his between your ass cheeks.
Bottoming out.
With both twins fully stuffed inside you - and with both twins reachin’ for the sweetest nerves inside - it’s no surprise that you find yourself sobbing out of pleasure.
Overstimulated on their lengths already.
You’re throwing your head back and babbling- “Toru—Toya.” Repeating their first names as though you were a broken record player, that in itself being one with one very favorite syllable: To. “To- fuck…To—”
Two simultaneous whacks! into your deepest depths leave you scrambling to pick up your thoughts. And your ability to speak.
“To—”
You’re arching against Satoya’s ripped front, and you press right into Satoru’s toned chest. Stuck in-between two brothers who just couldn’t seem to get enough of you—and they’re sharing a wide-eyed look with one another that doesn’t go unnoticed.
You flit your own teary gaze between the two, attempting to figure out what it meant.
And they always do say that some twins have telepathic abilities, don’t they?
Perhaps that’s what’s happening right now- because both unspoken and at the exact same time, Satoru and Satoya are recoiling their hips backwards.
Then returning with the hardest, most honed ruts.
Barely even hammering inside- just pure, carnal half-thrusts given just to drive you wild.
Thrust after thrust.
Probe after probe.
They don’t wait for one another, merely trusting that the other will catch up. And they don’t back down, either—every rugged hit pushed into your depths only seems to spur the other brother into reciprocating that strike twofold.
They’re learning the power of teamwork through your pussy?!
Satoru snags his flared tip on the crevice of your g-spot, whilst Satoya spends his time pummeling your ass. He was stretching you out in ways you don’t think you’ve ever been stretched out before - anal wasn’t something you did with him. And now…now he’s groaning at those cute clenches of your walls as though he was slowly falling in love with them.
The rugged texture of his thumb matching n’ contrasting with whatever calculated pace that Satoru was drilling into you. The bespectacled man has no shame reachin’ one of his thumbs down and swirling it in the excess leaks of his cum, collecting it all onto his fingerpad, he forces it between your pussylips and back into your hole.
Not a single drop wasted.
Satoru raises his cum-glazed fingertips up to his own mouth- and sucks.
“And ya call me the filthy one?” Satoya snickers.
“Aren’t you?”
“You’re a secret freak, weirdo-”
“Says the public freak.” Satoru flickers his eyes down to admire your cunt- he couldn’t believe that it’d taken this long since he managed to have you. To taste you. To feel you.
But now that he had you clenchin’ around his swollen shaft like this, and now that he had your pussylips coated in all his cum, Satoru knows he needs to have you again. He needs to love on you with his cock like this again—he’s sure he’d die if he didn’t. He’s sure of it.
And that damn brother of his-
“I know yer cursing me out mentally.” Satoya’s voice echoes through the heady bedroom. His grip grows more possessive underneath your thighs, and that blushin’ red tip of his even more ravenous to activate your nerves. There was a reason that the two of you had continued a…somethingship for so long.
And one of the main reasons being that he just had so much chemistry with your body. That he’s leaving you breathless, like you left Satoya every single fucking moment he was with you. “Ya get this look on your face- jealous I could have her first, huh?”
“Doesn’t matter what’s first—” Satoru grunts. Pampering your gooey depths with a dollop of precum, “It matters who’s last.”
“Yeah, and that’s gonna be me-”
“That’ll be me-”
“Yeah, right.” Satoya starts—and in your hazy mind, you’re registering that they were about to start fighting again. But how could you bring yourself to stop them- when they’re shattering every coherent thought in your brain with their bludgeoning cocks. Faster and faster. How long can a truce really last? “A virgin that doesn’t know her pussy as well as I do-”
“And which one of us is- ngh, making her feel good with her pussy now?”
“You think you’re even half as good as me?” Satoya sounds condescending. “Man, I hate to break it to ya- but you’re just for tonight. I’m gonna be there for her every night—”
“Every night until she gets a boyfriend, that is.” Satoru cocks his head with a dimpled smile. “Me.”
“She’s out of your league, nerd.”
“She’s out of yours, too-”
“Boys.” It’s with the most significant effort - every single ounce of will in your body, actually - that you’re managing to keep your voice steady. And both men turn their matching blue eyes to meet your half-lidded gaze.
Just so botched from all the times you’d been crying out in bliss tonight. It sounds scratchy once you say- “Just sh-shut up and make me—”
“Fuckin’ cum.”
“Reach your orgasm.”
They already know the answer before you utter it.
And it doesn’t take much for them to work in a frenzied rhythm on your cunt n’ your ass - staking their claim before the other. It was dizzying to be sandwiched between them. Because they’re probing into your every sweet spot, they’re dragging across your slick channels, they’re furrowing their brows to concentrate before they themselves cum—and before long, they’re pushing you straight into your nth high of the night.
Cumming.
It takes over you swift and flashing - you think you see stars dance before your very vision. Toes curling. Body arching into them.
There weren’t as many peaks during this orgasm as you had during your last few. And it isn’t long before feeling those zaps of electricity taper off- leaving your mouth babbling, and your throat hatching in sobs.
Again and again.
Satoru and Satoya fuck you through the brief tremors of your high—their dual tips entering both your channels. No doubt that your poor g-spot n’ clit were bruised by their touching by now. Stirrin’ about your insides, pumping out heeeeeaving hot messes of cum straight into your womb and deepest insides - it sloshes about as you’re bucking.
Fucking back into both of them.
The wads of their ropey seed stick to your every nook and cranny, creating a sheen between your legs that splatters all over. So much more than you ever thought possible for you to fit - because both of them had so much stored up.
Both of them had so many pangs of pleasure that could only be achieved by ruttin’ into your glossy wet pussy. Long and hard. Hot and cloying to your insides. They were the best orgasms of their entire life.
All because of you.
Filled to the brims until those brims couldn’t handle it anymore. Globular tips only fucking those leaking wads even deeper. Creamy with sap n’ droooooling out all those glazing wads into your deepest innards- even the slightest movements make you feel the splashes inside of you.
The most lecherous sounds escape you as they finally finish off their incredible waves of bliss. Balls finished clenching and sucked all dry—
Satoya’s peering down at the mess they’ve made of you, “Next round, I want her pretty pussy- but you’ve gotta wash that nasty stuff out.”
“Oh, fuck off-”
“And we’re taking turns.”
“Taking turns on what—?”
It’s a voice you’ve never heard before, then again, it’s not a voice you register as completely unfamiliar—there was something about it. Something about the pitch of it. Something about the lilting words. Something about that sort of rich voice that both the Gojo twins shared
And so some part of you hears the connection before you see it.
Before an exact clone of the twins above n’ below you on the bed walks through those bedroom doors.
White hair.
Blue eyes.
Those exact pretty features that made people stop on the roads, hoping for a second glance.
Except…this Gojo donned a sort of cowboy hat on his head - his button-up snug and revealing a sturdy build. His boots polished till they gleamed, and his arms all tanned—sun-kissed. It really did suit the two bouquets of flowers in his hands. If Satoru was spring, Satoya was summer, then he would be autumn - how he reminded you of the sturdiness of fall trees and the warmth of seasonal pumpkin beverages. The scent. The sight.
His jaw drops.
And so does yours- “Th-there’s another one of you—?” You’re shrilling between the two twins- no, you suppose they’d be triplets now?!
Satoya shrugs, “Multiple too many.”
“Multiple- so how many are there really…” And then you shake your head, almost fearful to hear the answer. “Why didn’t you tell anyone-”
“To be quite frank, it’s simply that no one asked.” Satoru answers this time.
Meanwhile, their brother lingers awkwardly at the door—he’d turned away respectfully as soon as he realized what he was seeing. Though he doesn’t make a move to re-enter the living room, torn between actually making that escape and wondering whether he was actually hallucinating or not—
That is, until you’re beckoning him over.
Within the next few minutes, Gojo Satohiro has his back leaned against the wooden headboard n’ you between his legs. Your back turned to him, your cunt swallowed up his eeeeven thicker red cock in the most lecherous swerves, bumps, and grinds.
Reverse cowgirl.
“Giddy uuuuup, girlie.” Satohiro coos as he juuuust perks his hips and ends up stroking your g-spot - the fastest one to find it. His bulbous mushroom tip finds permanent residence smoochin’ away at that tight spot. “C’mon- just a little harder now. You got this.”
“I’m- I’m trying—” Thighs aching. Moaning.
And he’s punishing you with a sudden spank of calloused fingertips- right where your right ass cheek was still sore from all the contact with Satoya. “Not trying hard ‘nough for me, sugar.”
His slight country accent (was that Kansai?) made your cunt grow even wetter- and the oldest of the Gojo brothers could feel it—
“Let me treat the lady.”
Maybe that’s why, before long, he’s pushing you down head-first into the pillows. Fingers planting yet another slap to your ass cheeks, cock bludgeoning away- in control now, Satohiro had the penchant to alternate between torturous slow paces n’ fast speeds that left you moooooaning—
Grabbing at Satoru’s pillows for dear life-
You’re ending up slipping your hand underneath. Pulling out something soft and…warm and…familar.
“What the hell is my h-hoodie doing here?”
The two other men seated - boxers-on and five feet apart from one another - in one corner of the room jolt—and all eyes fall upon Satoru.
At least, all eyes except Satohiro’s.
He tugs the fabric out of your hand and loops it around your eyes like a blindfold.
“Hey girlie, how ‘bout we take turns fucking you n’ you try to guess which one’s which?”
𓆩❤︎𓆪 ─ ꒰ 𝓼ituationship 𝓼ukuna ꒱ gets used for convenience by the bitchiest girl he’s ever met — and he wouldn’t want it any other way
cw. rough sex, bratty/bitchy!reader, power play, spitting (in mouth), squirting, face grabbing, light choking, hickeys/biting, overstim, praise/degradation mix, toxic dynamics, repost
“come over.”
he reads it at 12:42am. the little “read” stamp lights up and you don’t follow it with anything else, because you don’t need to. you’re not in the mood for back and forth.
not tonight. you’re already on your bed, shirt off, thighs parted, phone sliding out of your hand into the mess of sheets behind you. nothing soft is playing—just the low hum of the city and your own breathing.
you’re not horny for him. you’re just horny. bored. overstimulated by everything and underwhelmed by everyone. and sukuna? he’s nearby. he’s easy. he listens.
the door clicks open exactly sixteen minutes later. not a knock. not a call. he lets himself in like he always does, like he lives here, like he has a right to walk into your space without warning—and you’re already backlit by the glow of your salt lamp, one hand tucked under your head, one leg bent, mouth glossed and eyes half-lidded like you were expecting him to take longer.
he looks you over, head tilting, lip pierced and smug, tattoo peeking from under his hoodie collar like it’s daring you to look.
“didn’t know i was a fucking vending machine,” he says, voice rough, cocky, with that stupid glint in his eye that says he came the second you asked. “you just press a button and out comes the dick?”
you don’t even blink. “you’re here, aren’t you?”
he scoffs under his breath but toes off his sneakers anyway, pulling his hoodie over his head as he walks toward the bed. you watch him do it with your chin propped up on your palm, already shifting your hips, the thin cotton of your panties wet and sticking between your legs, not because you missed him—just because he’s good at this. or at least, good at being used.
“you could say please once in a while,” he mutters, dragging his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of his self-respect. “might be nice to be wanted instead of just summoned.”
“if you want nice, fuck a girl who makes you pancakes in the morning.”
he snorts, licking his bottom lip like he’s already picturing it. “yeah? what do i get here? a woman with a wet pussy and a god complex?”
“pretty much.”
you open your legs wider. he shuts the fuck up.
he climbs onto the bed, slow, the mattress dipping under his weight as he leans over you. there’s something mean in his mouth, but it never makes it out. instead, he kisses you, rough and deep, all tongue and attitude. you kiss back with a smirk, biting his bottom lip just enough to sting, then pulling away.
“take your pants off.”
“jesus christ,” he breathes, but his hands are already on the waistband. “what do you say?”
you lift your brows, slow, letting your eyes rake over his stomach, the trail of ink crawling up his ribs like it’s been begging to be traced, tongue first. you’re not even touching him yet and he’s half hard, sweats pulled halfway down his hips, that mouth still trying to run even though his body’s already lost the battle. your tongue clicks against your teeth.
“i say hurry up.”
he laughs through his nose like he can’t believe you, like you’re a fever he hasn’t figured out how to sweat out yet. “you know you’re a fucking brat, right?”
“you say that like it’s new.”
“nah. just tryna figure out when you’re gonna admit this means something.”
you roll your eyes, but it stings more than it should. you shove his pants down and straddle him without giving him the satisfaction of a response, your pantied cunt brushing against his thigh as you shift forward. “don’t start that shit.”
“what shit?” he grins, that sharp grin, the one that means he knows exactly what buttons he’s pressing. “you called me. not the other way around. what, you think i don’t know what this is?”
you lean down, mouth brushing his jaw, voice low. “this is me using you to cum.”
he growls, something frustrated and half-laughing as he flips you back before you can grind down again, big hands catching your wrists and pinning them above your head against the mattress.
echoes of silence by the weeknd hums from your tv speaker behind him, low, the bass slow and thudding like a pulse you’re both pretending not to feel. his face is inches from yours. his breath smells like mint and weed. his eyes are locked on your mouth like he’s trying to decide whether to kiss it or shut it up for good.
“then ride me,” he says, letting your wrists go. “come on, baby. show me how in control you are.”
you stare at him for a long moment, breathing hard. his cock is heavy and hard between his thighs, glistening with precum, and you want to wipe that look off his face. you want to take it all and leave nothing behind.
you push him flat with a palm to his chest.
“hands behind your head,” you say.
“yes, ma’am.” his grin is feral. he laces his fingers behind his head and sinks into the pillows like he’s watching the best show of his life.
“just don’t beg for more.”
you roll your eyes again, but slide your panties to the side and your cunt clenches when you line him up. the head catches at your entrance, thick and warm, and you sink down in one slow, brutal motion, biting your lip so you don’t give him the noise he wants. you feel him all the way up, your walls fluttering around him, hips stuttering when your clit grazes his pelvis.
he groans beneath you. “fuck, you always take me like you hate me.”
“i do.”
“no, you don’t,” he mutters, eyes locked on yours. “you just hate that you like me.”
you slap your hand over his mouth and start to move.
your pace is mean. tight little circles, grinding your clit against the base of him with every slow, dragging rock of your hips. your thighs burn but you don’t stop. you chase it. you ride him like you’re proving a point. the weeknd’s voice washes over the room, crooning about silence and desperation and something ugly that feels too close to the truth.
he moans against your palm. his eyes flutter. his abs tighten. he’s so fucking deep inside you, the stretch dizzying, and it only spurs you on—grinding, bouncing, taking him again and again until your cunt’s so slick it’s all you can hear besides the music and his ragged breathing.
“you like this?” you whisper, removing your hand. “being used like this?”
his head tips back, chest heaving. “i love it. i fucking love it.”
“you wanna stay tonight?”
he blinks up at you, dazed. “...do you?”
you slow down. your hips roll deeper, more sensual. his hands twitch behind his head. he looks like he wants to touch you so bad he might explode.
you lean down, hands braced on his chest, mouth a hair away from his.
“no.”
and then you kiss him.
filthy. greedy. too much tongue and too much spit. your mouths move like you’re arguing without words, like neither of you knows how to be soft but you can’t stop trying to bite it out of each other.
his hands break free, finally, grabbing at your waist, your ass, your back, like he’s trying to pull you closer than your own skin. his hips buck up into you, rhythm brutal, and you take it, you take all of it, nails dragging down his chest as your moans catch between kisses.
his mouth is hot and open and angry, tongue pushing past yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip until you hiss and pull back just enough to glare at him.
“don’t fucking look at me like that,” he mutters, breath ragged, pupils blown wide. “you don’t get to ride me like that and then act like i’m done.”
you scoff, breathless, grinding down once more just to feel him twitch inside you, just to remind him who started this. “what, you gonna cry about it?”
that’s when he snaps.
he flips you so fast the room tilts, the mattress creaking as your back hits the sheets and his weight settles over you, one knee between your thighs, one hand pinning your wrist above your head while the other drags down your body like he’s reacquainting himself with something that already belongs to him.
“say it again,” he growls, mouth trailing down your jaw, your neck. “say you don’t want me.”
you arch up into him instead, teeth catching his lip, dragging it between your own until he groans. “you don’t scare me, sukuna.”
his laugh is sharp and humorless, breath hot against your throat. “yeah? good. ‘cause i’m not trying to.”
he bites you then—hard, right at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, teeth sinking in deep enough that you gasp and curse, hands breaking free, your nails finding their way to rake down his back on instinct. he sucks the mark dark, tongue pressing over it like he’s sealing it in, like he wants it visible tomorrow, like he wants someone else to see it and wonder. your cunt clenches around him at the same time, slick and greedy, and he feels it. of course he does.
“fucking slut,” he murmurs against your skin, not gentle, not kind. “look at you. all attitude until i put you on your back.”
“fuck you,” you spit, but it comes out broken when he pulls almost all the way out and then slams back in, hips snapping forward with zero warning, the impact knocking the air out of your lungs.
he fucks you hard and deep now, no patience, no teasing, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, mixing with the low ache of the song playing like it was made for moments exactly like this.
you wrap your legs around his waist, dragging him closer even as you glare up at him, even as you refuse to kiss him again. “don’t get it twisted,” you pant. “this doesn’t mean shit.”
he leans down, forehead pressing to yours, eyes dark and burning. “then why are you holding me like that?”
you hate that he noticed. you hate that he’s right.
he shifts his angle just enough to make you cry out, cock hitting that spot that makes your vision blur, makes your thighs shake. his mouth finds yours again, but this time it’s slower, messier—tongue dragging, teeth clicking, breath shared and frantic. he bites your lip, then your jaw, then kisses the sting like he regrets nothing.
“you always try to leave before i get like this,” he mutters between thrusts. “always wanna pretend i’m just convenient.”
“you are,” you gasp, fingers tangling in his hair despite yourself.
he grins, feral. “yeah? then why do you let me fuck you like i’m staying?”
his pace turns brutal again, punishing, hips snapping forward as his hand slides down to where your bodies meet, thumb circling your clit with just enough pressure to make your back arch. you curse his name this time. can’t help it. he hears it and moans like it’s a victory.
“there it is,” he pants. “do it again.”
you try to hold it in. the noise, the heat, the ache crawling up your spine. you try to bite it back like always, teeth clamped down on your lip so hard it might bruise, nails digging into the muscles of his shoulders as if that’ll anchor you to something, but sukuna sees it. he always fucking sees it. the stuttering of your breath. the widening of your eyes. the tremble in your legs like you’re about to go boneless under him. and worst of all—the way your cunt squeezes around him like it’s begging for more, like your body doesn’t care about all the things your mouth refuses to say.
“that’s it,” he growls, grabbing your cheeks, not rough but firm enough to make your lips part on instinct. “open.”
you try to turn your head. he doesn’t let you.
“look at me.”
you do. you shouldn’t, but you do. and his spit lands right on your tongue, slow and filthy, dripping from his mouth into yours like it belongs there, like this isn’t the first time and won’t be the last.
“swallow.”
you do. and his cock twitches inside you the moment your throat bobs.
“fuck,” he hisses, dragging his thumb along the slick corner of your mouth. “you’re so fucking good when you stop pretending.”
“s-shut the fuck up—”
but your voice breaks. it cracks, high and raw and gasping, because he grinds down right as he thrusts in deep, thumb pressed flat against your clit, pace relentless and brutal, like he’s chasing something with every stroke. like he’s chasing you.
and you lose it.
your moan isn’t elegant. it’s not composed. it’s not bratty or mean or cool. it’s ugly—loud, drawn out, wrecked. your thighs clamp around his waist as the orgasm hits, harder than you expected, your whole body seizing, cunt fluttering wildly around his cock until you're gushing all over him, a sudden, sharp rush of wet that makes both of you curse in tandem.
“holy shit,” he breathes, laughing, almost shocked. “fucking squirting for me now? that's new.”
you’re still shaking. twitching. overstimulated and raw, head tossed back, mouth open, breath hitching while your soaked cunt pulses around him in aftershocks you can’t suppress.
he slows down—not out of mercy, but out of awe. like he’s savoring it. like he wants to feel every second of you breaking.
“look at you,” he mutters, leaning down again, dragging his tongue across your jaw, your neck, your chest. “big talk all night and now you’re fucking dripping for me.”
you grab at him, too far gone to play it cool anymore, hips rolling up into his even as your body begs you to stop. you don’t care. you want more. you want him deeper. you want him to ruin what’s left.
“don’t you dare fucking stop,” you whisper, voice wrecked.
he kisses you again, messier now. there’s no rhythm, no technique. just spit and tongues colliding in a haze of sweat and shared breath. you claw at his back, drag him into you harder, and he gives you what you want.
his hips piston into you with purpose, cock slamming deep on every stroke, the bed creaking beneath you, the slick squelch of your cunt only making it nastier. your name leaves his mouth over and over—low, strained, cracked in the center like it costs him something to say. his hand curls around your jaw again, tilting your face up, his forehead pressed to yours so close you can’t look anywhere else.
“watch me,” he growls. “you wanna pretend this doesn’t mean shit? fine. but you’re gonna watch me while i cum in this pussy.”
you nod. your throat’s too tight to speak.
his rhythm falters once, twice, and then he’s spilling inside you with a groan so deep it rumbles in his chest. his cock twitches, presses in deep, and he doesn’t stop moving—just slow, dragging thrusts to fuck it all into you as you twitch beneath him, overstimulated, moaning softly into the space between you.
he doesn't let you look away.
“that’s right,” he mutters, kissing your cheekbone, your jaw, your open mouth. “eyes on me, baby.”
when he finally stops, it’s only because you’re trembling so hard your hands can’t stay on his skin.
he stays inside you longer than necessary, hips still, forehead pressed to yours like he’s trying to catch his breath off your mouth. your body’s trembling, clenching around him every few seconds from the aftershocks, thighs slick and sticking to his waist, your nails still buried in his shoulders because you forgot how to let go. the room is quiet now—another song just finished minutes ago, the bass replaced with the sound of your breath, the ceiling fan creaking softly above both of your bodies like a reminder you’re not dreaming.
his thumb traces lazy circles into your thigh. not sexual. just there. something to keep him connected to you like if he moves too fast, you’ll disappear.
he shifts, just enough to meet your eyes again. his voice is rough. lower than before. but the bite’s gone.
“…still gonna kick me out?”
you blink up at him, lips parting like you forgot how to answer. maybe you did. you still haven’t unhooked your legs from his waist.
he smiles—faint, lopsided, stupid. “’cause like, i will. i’ll go. just saying... i could make pancakes in the morning. wear one of those slutty little chef aprons. ass out. the works.”
your laugh is so quick and unexpected it surprises even you. it bubbles up sharp, short, cracking straight through the haze. and the worst part? it sounds happy.
you shake your head, barely suppressing the smirk threatening your mouth. “shut up,” you murmur, smacking his arm. “just lay down.”
Synopsis. Choso Kamo: Itadori Yuji’s older brother, drummer to the Löded Diper, that touch-starved punk-rocker that’s been absolutely obsessed with you. You: nothing less than queen bee on campus, leader of The Plastics, about to show that loser that he totally can’t sIeep sit with you! …Maybe.
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!popular!reader, punk!Choso, Regina George x Rodrick Heffley AU, college AU, Itadori family shenanigans, wingmanning, Mean Girls references (like a lot), slight crackfic, he’s SO down bad for you, píning, parties, pússydrúnk Choso, face-sítting, oraI (fem rec.), first times (him), fíngering, spítting chokíng, Choso with piercings, D piercings, ROUGH S, he goes FÉRAL, making it fit, síze k, manhandIing, matíng presses, creampíes, slight cúmplay, confessions, getting together, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 14.0k
A/N. Hehehe am I late…
Choso sighs, “Isn’t she amazing…?”
“She just looked at you and giggled? She just whispered about it to her friends and now they’re all staring? She’s walking away without even looking back?”
“I know- she’s more than amazing.”
Yuji looks at his older brother. Then he looks at you. He looks at his older brother. Then he looks at you- and the next time he’s setting his sights on the dark-haired man, Yuji sort of feels like slamming his face into his bowl of mushy peas.
He squints at your disappearing back, “Right…” If this is what the college experience was about then put this college at the bottom of his safety schools.
But listen! It’s not like he’d ever speak bad about his big brother - this was his cool, calm, collected brother after all (at least he was supposed to be). And so Yuji’s pushing the bulk of his skepticism aside, and turning back to Choso.
“So when are you gonna ask her out, bubba?”
“A-ask her out—?!”
Choso Kamo’s voice cracks on the mere words, at the mere notion—and Yuji can only ogle him in utter bewilderment. Oh…my god…?
Alright so not calm or cool or collected.
Fuck, he was so far gone that it almost looked painful.
He’s never seen his big brother’s eyes shine like that before - whether in excitement (at the delusion) or in panic (at the reality) he couldn’t quite tell. He’s never seen his big brother’s face burst into a blush so strong that it makes him wince. He’s never seen his big brother turn his toned frame away and start muttering - more to himself than anything.
“Why would you even suggest that? Why would you want me to- heheh…ask her out? Why did you know that’s been my biggest dream since freshman year? Why did you think that I could ever possibly manage to-” And then he’s gasping in realization.
And in a split-second - so fast that the poor pink-haired boy could never have seen it coming - Choso’s whirling around to grab him from either side of his shoulders. “Unless- unless you saw something between us that I didn’t!” He exclaims, shaking Yuji with every word. “Unless you believe that I actually have a chance and you want me to go for it before it’s too late?!”
Yuji’s jaw drops, “I uh…huh?”
“But of course!” Choso was on a roll now, jostling the boy back and forth even harder. “In dad’s nighttime k-dramas the two romantic leads never really know when they like each other—but of course!” People in the cafeteria were starting to stare now. “I’m the male lead and you saw something in her eyes that made you want me to confess! Before either I get hit by a truck and get amnesia or she gets married off to some faraway 6’7 CEO-”
“CEO? What the f-”
“So what was it you saw?” Abruptly stopping his shaking now, Choso leans in with widened eyes. He probes at his younger brother with eager questions, “What was it you saw in her eyes? Hidden longing? Desire? Betrayal? Lu-”
“M-maybe?” God, he was feeling dizzy now and those peas weren’t helping…“Webster’s Dictionary did say that betrayal could be a synonym for disgust. I think.”
To which Choso pauses - still with that same insanely hopeful expression stiff on his face. And Yuji thinks that he might just’ve have broken him when-
“Oh, it’s no use—” He almost thinks he prefers the ramblings of a madman, rather than the dramatic way that Choso’s throwing himself over his space on the cafeteria table. Head in his hands. Shoulders shaking with a sigh.
The metal trays they’d been provided with rattle ever-so-slightly at his ministrations, and Yuji has to be the one to nudge them to the side. Mouthing out apologies to the students around them that throw them dirty looks—honestly, this was supposed to be his tour of his older brother’s college campus before he attended. He was supposed to be the one being taken care of during this pivotal time of his life.
Which (to Choso’s credit) had been what ended up happening for most of the day: through all those labs and lecture halls and facilities he’d been led to by him, through all those professors that Choso made him speak about his future major with, through most of lunch where his brother kept on insisting that he take more until…you came along.
Almost as if thinking of the very same thing (you), Choso’s sniffling even louder. And Yuji’s gingerly patting at the AC/DC t-shirt on his back, “There there…it’ll be alright, bubba. Wait- if you’re the male lead then who am I?”
Choso sputters out, “I don’t know? Homosexual supporting cast? I don’t know anything-” Pathetically bemoaning, “I can’t even do anything-”
Yuji insists gingerly, “I’m sure if you just asked her-”
“No you don’t get it, Yuji.” He finally raises his head from his hands, silver lip ring twinklin’ in the light. His older brother brings a ringed hand up to twist at it - in just the way he did whenever he got nervous about something. “She’s part of The Plastics- the leader, actually. And those other two? Utahime and Shoko.”
It seems that you and your duo of friends had been stopped by a few more of your acquaintances just outside the cafeteria. And as you laughed and talked amongst yourselves, Yuji and Choso leaned over in their seats to catch more glimpses of you.
He points subtly at the brown-haired girl with eyebags and a…scalpel close by you. “Ieri Shoko’s one of the smartest girls you will ever meet. Eso sat next to her in Anatomy 101 last semester, and he said she cheated so well that the professor changed their marking scheme.” Then as Choso moves the tip of his digit, so do Yuji’s eyes onto another girl with a scar across her face and an arm thrown over your shoulder. “That one with the traditional dress? That’s Iori Utahime, she’s totally rich because her dad invented the Toaster Strudel. Utahime knows everybody’s business, everything about everyone- that’s why her hair is so big…it’s full of secrets.”
Yuji stifles a giggle, “And ah- the one you’re obsessed with?”
“Shhhh- not so loud!” As if he hadn’t just been causing a scene earlier. Choso just has to take one look at you before he’s repeating your name in the most dreamy manner, “-perfection takes human form in her.”
“Perfection?”
“Don’t be fooled. Because she may seem like your typical selfless, smart, gorgeous sweetheart but in reality…she’s so much more than that.” Choso sighs, “How do I even begin to describe her?”
“I don’t get it, we have popular kids in our high school too?” Yuji asks. Hell, if they were counting like that then he wasn’t doing too bad socially himself.
But Choso’s fervently shaking his head. In an instant, he’s getting up and dragging Yuji away from his mushy peas. Ignoring his whines- “Come with me.”
They all said your name.
“She’s flawless.”
“She has two Fendi purses and a silver Lexus.”
“I hear her hair’s insured for ten thousand dollars.”
“I hear she does car commercials in Shibuya.”
“One time, she met Jacob Elordi on a plane. And he told her she was pretty.”
“One time she punched me in the face. I liked it.”
And by the end of his (second) tour around campus (and his first tour around the gossip mill), Itadori Yuji could…somewhat understand where his older brother was coming from. In addition to being liked so much, you were somewhat…scary.
He feels himself shiver involuntarily as you pass him by, not seeing the two tall boys hidden beneath a large oak tree on campus. Watching you. Though, Shoko does- and glints her scalpel threateningly at them until they duck back behind the scraggly trunk.
“But still-” Yuji hisses at Choso, crouched against the flares of green grass. “-I don’t see why you can’t at least give it one try to ask her out? I thought you weren’t scared of anything, bubba.”
“And then there’s that problem-” Handsome face suddenly hardening, Choso checks whether the coast is clear for Shoko and her scalpel before gesturing at his younger brother to follow. Popping their heads from the side of the oak trunk once more, he’s pointing an index at the other man you’d walked up to.
The tip of his finger - all chipped with black nail polish - honed in like an arrow at the silver haired man. Yuji watched as he grabbed you to his side with a guffaw, where you wrinkled your nose at the way he crinkled your blouse- but let him do as he pleased anyway. “That two-toned, two-inch bastard- Naoya Zenin.”
“From the Zenin Corporations?” Yuji gawked.
“The Zenin Corporations, and he goes ‘round acting like it too.” Choso grumbles, lightly thumping his fist against the tree. “His family’s old old money, but word is they’re gonna be charged with embezzlement soon, heh. He started dating her at the start of freshman year- no idea how that happened, some say he bribed her with a GMC Hummer and they’ve been on and off ever since.”
“Wild.” The pink-haired boy whistles- inadvertently catching the attention of you. Turning away boredly from a lecture on Naoya’s latest business ventures to catch the two tufts of hair peaking through the oak trunk. You have to stifle a laugh as they duck out of sight with matching yelps.
“Something amusing about wining and dining the CEO of the World Bank, honey?” Naoya leers out, and you know he doesn’t mean that pet name he uses.
“Nothing amusing at all, actually.” You’re plastering a painful plastic smile, and he doesn’t catch the snipe. You’re angling your head to try and catch a glimpse ‘round the trunk, at those doey brown eyes that caught yours. “Tell me all about your ah- glorious old money again.”
“Why most certainly.”
You’re rolling your eyes, and you don’t catch the way that Shoko threatens her scalpel in the direction of the oak once more.
Yuji - who’d been craning upwards to take another look - hastily sits back down on the ground with a thump. “Bubba, we’ve got to do something about her though. The Itadori men don’t just sit around doing nothing in a time of crises-”
“Do what though?” Choso puts his face in his hands, long chestnut hair falling around his face. Obscuring his pout from view, though one could hear it. “It’s hopeless-”
“No.”
Choso looks up in surprise.
At Yuji’s determined face, that smile. Brighter than the sun.
He pulls a handheld camera from Choso’s backpack and takes a picture of them both, you in the background. Blissfully unaware. “I’ve got a plan.”
.
.
.
PHASE ONE OF WIMP: Everybody needs to know.
“There are four phases, the first is-” Yuji whispers, face pressed against the cold library shelf. Textbooks the size of his head. Names of authors that blurred into one. A wall of words that he’d shuffled aside to spy on the other side of it, “-we first have to get the word out about our WIMP.”
“WIMP?” Choso hisses back in confusion. He was standing right beside his younger brother, stooped down to look through their little crack.
A nearly-empty table.
A column of books.
A certain purple-haired girl rarely seen without leaving your side.
“Yeah?” Itadori answers, “Wingmanning Itadori’s Mythical Party- or WIMP for short.”
Choso can only look at him in pure aghast.
“Anyways, going back to our WIMP-”
“Yuji, stop trying to make WIMP happen. It’s not going to happen.”
“About our party then.” To which the pink-haired boy waves off easily, “Don’t sweat it- dad is out on some bonding trip with Uncle Kuna and grandpa, so they won’t be back until tomorrow so we have the house alllll to ourselves.”
It was true that their home actually sat on the outskirts of campus, right alongside the other dorms and residential buildings for the students. It was actually one of the reasons that Choso had chosen this particular university in the first place, because of its proximity (and it led him to you so, good thinking on his part, hm?) And so he still resided there with his family, but as for throwing a party…“Yuji, parties really aren’t a big deal in college. I don’t know if it’s even a good-”
“Do you wanna do this or not?” He pulls away to give Choso a deadpan look, the sharp edges of the books embedding vertical lines on his face.
The other man stammers, “W-well…”
“Let me rephrase-” Yuji says, “-do you want her in your house-”
“Yes.”
“And there you go.”
Choso sputters, face flushing at the fact that he’d been caught out so easily. He scratches behind his neck and looks anywhere but into his brother’s mischievous eyes, “W-well! You’ve clearly been spending too much time with Sukuna…and what about the fact that we have a house and apparently the word- but still no actual- party-”
“Semantics, semantics.” And to Choso Kamo’s complete and utter horror- he’s pulling out his camera to take a picture of their stakeout. He’s starting to push off the bookshelf and walk away.
Reaching out a hand, “Wait- wait, Yuji!”
Right up to the corner of the shelf, he grins. “First we’ve got to get the word out.”
And before Choso can do anything about it, Yuji’s pranced right up to the long student desk. Making a few of them look up at his sudden, yellow-hoodied intrusion- he’s clapping a hand over his forehead and bemoaning. “Oh, woe is me! Woe is me!” Choso’s clapping a hand over his forehead, too, though for a much different reason. He thinks he’s having an aneurysm. “Oh, I seem to have gotten myself a little lost…”
Trailing off, he peeks at Utahime out of the corner of his eye - and finds her completely unphased.
It was as if she didn’t even hear his display, and flicked casually through a glossy athletics magazine that’d been stuffed between the pages of her textbook.
Choso watches as he starts up again, slightly louder this time- “My poor, innocent high school self- all alone in this big, bad campus. All abandoned. If only I had a good samaritan to guide me back…” He peeks at Utahime again and she doesn’t even flinch—and what the- was that a textbook on children’s education she was reading?!
“Oh, how I wish a future teacher—” Yuji lets the words ring in the air, shooing away another student that’d come over to help him. “-could maybe get some practical work in and help me…a poor, poor high school student who doesn’t know of the big world…”
Utahime looks up at him—this was his chance!
And Yuji’s brightening up- before he registers she was looking right past him and at the clock that’d been ticking away on the wall behind him. The two brothers come to the realization at the same time and they bite back groans.
Goddammit! “How I wish I had someone to help me lest they wanted me to miss my brother’s party- tonight. Yes, a party tonight. A partyyyyy—” Emphasizing his words; his initial idea had been to strike up a conversation with Utahime as she (with her heart of gold) helped his poor lost self, and to naturally weave in the idea of the party and perhaps invite her and her friends as a thank you.
But now, Utahime (with her heart of thorns) was pleasantly ignoring him to pack her bag and leave.
Though, he was catching the attention of almost everyone else in this part of the library. Wondering just who the kid was and why the hell he couldn’t shut up—“He doesn’t even go here!”
Yuji sighs, “Free beer.”
“Oh, are you lost?” Utahime asks with a warm smile.
“What the-” Choso squawks, but ultimately gnaws down on the inside of his cheek to shut himself up before she hears. He watches Utahime get up from her seat and sling her back over her shoulder, leading an allegedly lost Itadori Yuji out of the library (the exit was two shelves away but she didn’t seem to question it).
From here, he can hear snatches of their fading conversation - Utahime inquiring about this party, Yuji responding in kind. He rattles off their address that she makes him text her, along with an invite extended to her friends. She says she has two best friends who would just love to come. “You’re Choso’s brother, aren’t you? I saw you two in the cafeteria today, yeah, my friend would tooootally love to come- just don’t tell her boyfriend.”
Yuji tilts his head in slight confusion.
Choso notices that his brother also greatly exaggerates about the beer (which, obviously, the high-schooler wouldn’t be able to drink) and some DJ they’re flying in, but he doesn’t quite have it in himself to feel anything but cautious excitement right now.
You.
You, you, you.
Yuji throws a thumbs up behind his back.
Pulling out his camera and starting to coax Utahime into a selfie picture or two.
Choso’s lifting off of the shelf with a chuckle - he can’t believe it worked. He can’t believe it actually worked! In both shock and slight relief, he’s taking a few steps back—now that he thinks about it, how did it even work-
Before he’s crashing into someone.
“Oh, fuck- I’m so sor-”
“You’re alright, baby.”
That voice.
Choso whirls around so fast that he feels the world tilt. Choso whirls around so fast that he feels his tall figure sway. That he’s chasing the sound of your voice- and he doesn’t even care if he looks a fool doing it.
Though he’s sure it shows, if the way you’re giggling at his action is anything to go by.
Slightly fluttering your lashes, “Something the matter?” You ask, with a smile.
“N-no…”
“Mhm.” And then you lean in—so close that he could kiss you.
One of your hands reaches past him, almost caging him against the book shelf. And Choso’s plastering his back against their hair columns- face burning, hands pressing to his toned sides, pink lips quivering with greed. His eyes dip down to those lips of yours that just kept on getting closer…“Wh-what you are-”
“I got what I need.” In the corner of his peripheral vision, he sees you lift off a hefty textbook from the shelf. Past his figure.
Where your hand had actually been reaching - and Choso feels his heart drop down to his stomach when you neatly distance yourself with the book. That very same slightly-dangerous smile still on your face, “As for you, have fun with your…” Your eyes drift to the gap between two books he’d created, a peephole. Narrowing, though your smile only widens. “-spying. Bye now!”
“W-wait-” Choso’s voice only comes out once you’d left, “Wait I wasn’t-”
.
.
.
PHASE TWO OF WIMP: Break her up with her boyfriend—yeah yeah, Choso’s bored!
Nobody in the lecture hall seemed to question why a high-schooler was sitting and swinging his feet happily amongst them. Nobody in the lecture hall seemed to question why there was a sudden flurry of texts and whispers more prominent than usual, either.
A palpable excitement in the air.
And Choso doesn’t think that Professor Yaga was paid enough to notice nor care.
It seems that telling Utahime first about the party was the smart move. Because before Choso had even stepped foot outside the library (moving on autopilot after that lil’ encounter from you), the news had trickled down from her and to almost the entire department. He was immediately being thrown looks left and right- hell, even a clap on his shoulder by some frat dude he didn’t know congratulating him on ‘finally throwing a rager’.
He didn’t say he was throwing a rager…nor that he was inviting them…but alright…
Even now, a few of the students around him would nudge each other and not-so-subtly point. Giving him a few glances. Dropping each other the pin of his address. Whispering about how ‘that quiet punk’ kid was throwing a party. Which honestly would’ve been completely tolerable had it not been for the fact that he was drawing attention from the row before him. Think that’s not too bad? Think again-
Choso takes just one glance at the row below—and feels his heart jump to his throat as he recognizes the beautiful back of your head.
He’s spent so many long hours studying it, you couldn’t fault him for immediately knowing…
But it didn’t matter if he knew or not.
It didn’t matter how close he was.
It was you, along with a few of your friends that’d managed to register to the class in time (though, it’s not like you were lacking for willing volunteers). Along with your boyfriend beside you.
Choso’s only able to look from behind.
Always an invisible wall between you two, invisible galaxies in every inch. Even that conversation he had with you in the library had ended in misunderstandings and distance. Oh…his heart ached, he hung his head low.
Your worlds would simply never cross—
“Haibara Yu, an invite for you.”
“Ah! Why thank you, Itadori-kun.”
“Anytime, my dude.” Yuji replies, eyes glimmering with stars.
Choso snaps his head to Yuji in utter astonishment as he leans down and prods the man with the bowl cut in front of him - one of your closest friends, Haibara. And here Itadori Yuji was - speaking to him as if it was absolutely nothing—doesn’t he know that you! Were! Right! There! The pink-haired boy seated next to him hands Haibara an impromptu invitation (really, a scrap of paper ripped off of…Choso’s lyrics book with their address written down).
Chuckling at the cutely childish action, Haibara fist bumps Yuji. “I’ll be there, and say thank you to your brother for me.”
“Oh- he’s right here.” Yuji stabs a thumb to the seat beside him, which Choso looked as if he was trying to sink into. And when Haibara gives him a friendly smile and wave, Choso can only reciprocate with a jerky nod of his own.
And then Choso’s attention gets caught by the way that Yuji reaches deep into his hoodie pocket. Pulling out several more crumpled scraps of paper- how the hell did he have so many? And what the hell was Choso supposed to write songs on now?!
He places his head in his hands and grumbles, “Yuji…”
But Yuji simply continues, “Nanami Kento two for you-” His brother was now throwing the invitations at their unsuspecting recipients, the blond man catches it with a disgruntled scoff. “Ijichi Kiyotaka—four for you Ijichi Kiyotaka, you go Ijichi Kiyotaka!” A bespectacled man catches it with a yelp that catches Yaga’s attention (and his disregard). And then Choso’s heart catches in his throat as Yuji sing-songs out your name, gently handing you your own scrap of paper.
His scrap of written-over…lyrical…paper.
The scrap of paper that Choso had written songs about you on-
“Aw, you wrote my name on it and everything?” You’re cooing at the boy, beginning to unfold the invitation. It was a palimpsest of words, and your eyes go down the slightly-blurred lines of faint writing beneath Yuji’s blocky letters. It was cursive, slanted, with a sweetly messy impression so that you couldn’t make out half the words on it. Just your name. Over and over. “That’s so sweet! Um, you wrote my name…like…a lot-”
“No!”
Before you can read any further, the pierced man behind you reaches over and snatches the paper out of your hands. In a split-second, he has it crumpled up and stuffed deeeep into his bag where no mortal soul would see it ever again.
What follows next might be the most awkward few seconds of silence in his entire life.
Yuji looks at him. Yaga looks at him. Your friends look at him. You look at him-
“Um, why are you so obsessed with me?”
And he can’t even say anything in response because it’s fucking true—!
Yuji takes a picture of the scene.
It’s only Naoya who - seeming to not have noticed a single thing amiss - raises his index in the air and punctuates it with his annoying, grating voice. “Um-”
“And none for Naoya Zenin, bye!” Yuji stuffs the rest of the scraps inside his hoodie.
“Excuuuuuuse me-”
Choso blocks out the tirade of threats that Naoya then proceeds to spit their way, his black-tipped hair flying askew in all angles as he starts arguing with the younger boy. The previous tension between you and Choso left unsettled (not good tension, certainly, no matter what Yuji may think), you’re resigning yourself to lean back in your seat and let Naoya throw his arm over your. Jostled by him. Sighing at the fact that you were jostled by him. “Naoya, let it go-”
And oh—it makes Choso fucking angry to see you still with this asswipe.
But fuck—does it almost make him smile seeing that look on your face.
Only getting more bored with every word falling from Naoya’s lips. Only barely putting up with him. A fleck of angry spittle falls from your (hopefully soon-to-be-ex) boyfriend’s mouth, and you’re meeting Choso’s eyes in the middle as you follow it.
Both of you grimace in disgust.
Next to him, Yuji nudges at his ribs- a victory for Phase Two! He almost wants to laugh.
Yaga drones, “Mister Kamo, would you mind letting the class hear your thoughts on the subject of Caesar and Brutus at hand?” It seems he’d gotten enough of the ruckus in the back rows.
Choso stands, clearing his throat. “What’s so great about Caesar? Hm? Brutus is just as cute as Caesar. Brutus is just as smart as Caesar. People totally like Brutus just as much as they like Caesar. And when did it become okay for one person to try and claim everything, huh? Because that’s not what Rome is about.” He looks straight at Naoya, “We should totally just stab Caesar!”
.
.
.
PHASE THREE OF WIMP: Ask her (to the party, if not out)!
“Bubba-”
“No-”
“C’mon bubba-”
“No-”
Yuji’s throwing his hands up in defeat, letting Choso’s own fall from his grasp. His wrists were all red n’ raw from all the pulling- even after the younger of the two brothers had seemingly given up on bodily draaagging Choso halfway down the campus gardens.
Right to you.
And honestly, Choso should be thankful that his brother’s such a fervent advocate for him getting his shit together and actually talking to the girl of his dreams.
But you’re just meters away, so beautifully oblivious.
And he can’t help but feel his knees weaken—“B-but what am I even going to say to her-”
“For starters, you can apologize for the way you snatched her invitation out of her hand.” Yuji’s saying - so very practically that it almost hurt. Was this really the same kid who’d run after him crying when he first left for college? “And then you can invite her to the WIMP-”
“I said stop trying to-”
“I got it, I got it!” Yuji puffs out his cheeks in a pout, “Man, you really know how to squirm your way out of important conversations- but you won’t be squirming your way out of this!”
Before he knows it, Choso’s being rounded by his younger brother- who then slams both palms against the others shoulders and starts shoving him in your direction. You were talking to someone, with your back turned to him and your air one of complete ease.
And here two Itadori brothers came to shatter it.
“You- won’t- be- getting out of this one, bubba-” Yuji forces out between pushes, and with every time Choso struggled against it, his throws only got even harder. “Talk- to- her-”
“And- and say what-”
“I don’t know- I’ve never asked anyone out before?”
“Fuck!”
With a final profane exclamation, Choso’s shoved right at your footsteps- and you’re turning around at the commotion. Raising your brows at the man that was bent so low before you, that he could practically look up your skirt if he wanted to.
You take a step back, “Um…”
“F-fuck-” He seemed to be saying that a lot today, and he stands upright instantly. Rubbing at the back of his flushed neck, Choso tries looking anywhere but in your eyes—where the fuck did Yuji disappear to?! “Anyways um…nice weather we’re having, huh?”
“Right…” You look up, there was a rain cloud formulating above you. There was a 30% chance that it’s already raining.
Your company - some business major by the name of Mei Mei, he believes, throws her single long braid over her shoulder - “Ooo la la~ Guess I should leave you two alone then, hm?” Waving just the tips of her fingers at you, “Toodles~!”
“Buh-byeee, again- I love your hair!” You’re calling out with the sweetest smile.
“Thank you~!”
And only once Mei Mei was well and fully not in earshot do you turn back to Choso and deadpan, “That is the ugliest fucking hairstyle I’ve ever seen.”
He hides a laugh behind his fist, “I-it certainly is eccentric…” Well, he’d be lying if he said he never secretly thought the same.
You tilt your head, his contagious smile making your own lips slightly quirk. In this dimming light, you could see the dimples by the corners of his lips- “And so? I don’t suppose you’re here to hear my tastes in hairstyles, are you?”
“I-I wouldn’t mind.” He coughs underneath his breath, self-consciously thinking to his own cutesy space-buns. He’s seen you staring at them a few times before…at least his imagination liked to think you did. He’s almost glad he wore them down today, “But ah- but no, you’re right. First of all, I came to apologize.”
Before you can say anything else, he’s bowing before you.
Sharp and sincere.
He couldn’t see the expression on your face like this- and so Choso scrunches his eyes and spits out the words. “I apologize for how rude I was during the lecture earlier, it- it’s completely my fault and I shouldn’t have snatched the invitation out of your hands. It was just…”
“Personal?” You ask, and he’s whipping his head up to catch your warm smile. “I get it. Your secret’s safe with me.” Before thinking about it a little more, “And Utahime…and Shoko. Maybe Ijichi-”
His pinkish mouth gapes, “A-and the…”
“My name?” Teasingly, you pretend to think. “I didn’t see a thing. My name? What name?”
Beside himself, he begins to laugh- “And I uh- there’s also…” He’s only slightly leaning up from his bow now, fists clenching upon either side as if tries not to lose his nerve. And Choso might just have- had it not been for the flailing body of his brother.
Just a little distance away, Yuji dances about and gestures at Choso to keep talking. Shaping out hearts with his arms. Mouthing a little ‘go on’. Puckering his lips and making kissy faces—
You notice the way his gaze strays past you and start to turn-
But Choso’s grabbing your hand in a panic- stopping you from moving- making you turn around in slight surprise. “I uh!” And he feels…he feels so much. The heat of your hand thrumming in his own. The zaps of electricity as your eyes meet his. The adoration at just how beautiful you were in this light. Somehow, some way, the shy man manages out. “I wanted to…to invite you personally to the WI- I mean, the party.”
He winces, waiting for your rejection.
Only-
“I’d love to!”
In the distance Yuji’s camera runs out of battery with how many times he’s flashing away pictures.
Choso’s on cloud nine all the way back home, he doesn’t think his feet even touch the pavement. Yuji gives him a good, hard smack on the back in congratulations as they get on Choso’s bike—“Wow, maybe you’re not a hopeless case after all, bubba!”
Choso rides a little faster that day.
.
.
.
PHASE FOUR OF WIMP: DON’T BE A WIMP!
It honestly hadn’t taken them too long to turn Itadori Jin’s home into the habitat of a college party. It was already big enough, and it had a pool out in the back and a rooftop to climb. All they needed to add were a few key components: booze, beats, onion rings.
Most of it was ordered with their uncle’s credit card…
He’d asked his Löded Diper members to join him for a gig later in the night. And Yuji had begged his friends to help them with the decorating and set-up on account that they could join the (alcohol-free, to them) party afterwards.
Meanwhile Choso had paced their living room so many times that he thinks his footsteps were seared into the carpet - some excuse of a cool big brother he was. He’d damn near twisted off his lip piercing with the way he’d been nervously toying with it- it’d taken Yuji and Nobara dragging him off to get a bit more dolled-up for him to stop.
And so here he was.
Dressed in his best ripped jeans, chains glinting, biceps flexing through his short sleeves, nails painted and re-painted.
He throws his silky bangs out of his eyes and watches as the students trickle in- he didn’t even know half the people that dapped him up before treading inside the Itadori family home. And through each smile and greeting, Choso’s eyes flickered over the blur of faces for only one.
Yours.
The slosh of beer. The splash of ping-pong balls inside cups.
It was nearing midnight and Choso still couldn’t find you. Fuck, he almost considers letting the party rage on and leaving to find you himself-
“Bubba!” Yuji calls out over the thumping bass, and the dark-haired man is whipping around to find his brother surfing over the sea of people. “Bubba- bubba!” Hand cupped over his mouth to let his voice project, the other gripping his camera. “I saw Utahime and Shoko by the food table, no sign of her though.”
“Yuji-” Choso’s yanking on his brother’s arm, tugging his brother to him. His eyes probe down in concern, “What do you mean no sign of her? You’re sure?”
“Positive.” Yuji nods, “I asked them, too- they said she’d be coming separately but still no sign of her.”
“I hope she’s okay…” Choso worries on his lip ring, he looks over the perspired heads of party-goers. The party was in full swing by midnight, and it showed no sign of stopping. He’s sure he saw at least one antique vase smashed, and one drunk couple making out in Sukuna’s room…“Maybe I should go check on her?”
Yuji tilts his head in confusion, “How?”
“I’ll just wait by the door maybe…”
“All night?”
“All morning if I have to.”
Waving off his concerns, he tells his brother to order some more food and leaves for the front door.
Ignoring the calls of his name and the compliments. Trying to squeeze past the slightest gaps between bodies, “Excuse me-” He’s whispering, wincing as he forces his way through them. “Excuse me- coming through. Excuse me.” Seeing the widely gaped door as a few more people shove themselves inside the party, the door starts to close. “Wait wait don’t close, I just want to get to-”
You.
A hand stops the front door from closing, and he’s instantly putting a name to face. A name to body. A name to each fingertip by fingertip.
The party hushes just a little when you enter. The music slows. The chatter dies down. The eyes of everyone present snaps to you- holy shit, it was you. It was really, really you.
Dressed in your prettiest slip dress. Hugging every inch of you so perfectly in the way he wanted to. Your eyes shimmering with a bit of glitter on the edges. Your lips resembling a candy he couldn’t wait to suck on right now. Immediately, it’s as if his world was bending to your will, your intrusion - as it always did.
Holding the door open, “Oh!” You’re clearly startled to come face-to-face with Choso Kamo so soon - and especially so close. Your eyes widen as they flit up his sculptured body, that t-shirt that clung to him attractively. “Ditching your own party so soon?”
“I was about to until you came along.”
Fuck—why did he say that?
In the distance, he can hear three irritating (strangely familiar) squeals. And he’s bringing a hand up to fiddle with his lip piercing, apology on his tongue when-
“Well, then I sure am glad I came along.” You’re smiling in that way that feels like you’re analyzing every inch of him, “This party wouldn’t have been much fun without you, Cho.” You push his shoulder with yours, and he thinks he might just melt.
He thinks he does.
There’s a flash of a camera that jolts him into action once more.
“Can I uh- get you uh—a beer? Or something?” Grimacing at his own choked-up hosting, he ushers you in and closes the door. Your shoulder brushes against his, and he thinks he might just cream his pants. “Or a shot? Ah- onion rings?”
“I think I’m good on the alcohol…for now.” You hum, and there’s something in your tone that he can’t quite pinpoint. The party parts ways for you, and he’s leading you inside.
Choso raises a brow, curious. “How come for now?”
“Ah- because I know if I want to drink I’ll drink until I drop out of anger.” You huff, looking up at him meaningfully. You’d reached the dance floor by now- or at least, the living room that had found itself being turned into a dance floor. The music was much louder here, and you beckon Choso in close to whisper in his ear—your breath brushing his sensitive earlobes. “Break-ups tend to do that to you.”
Choso shivers at the proximity, before registering what you’d just said. “Wait- break-up-”
“It was a long time coming anyway.” You’re sighing, a slight smile on your face. “And this time it’s done for good- don’t worry, it’s not like I’m upset or anything…” Huffing out contemplatively, “Well, maybe a little- but not over him, rather the time I wasted.”
“I-I see…” Choso swallows, his throat was parched as if he’d just run a marathon. He clenches his fists, and then he wipes those sweaty palms down his sides—before bringing them up to hold yours. In just a little, his band would be playing (he’d been holding them off for you), but until then…
You look up at him in slight surprise, slight warmth.
“Then…” He tugs you down to the dance floor, “-shall we dance?”
.
.
.
“Fuh-fuck…” Choso can’t help but let his slick tongue flop out- as if he wanted to surge his head between those pretty legs of yours, as if he wanted to chase that sweetly honeyed cunt you’d plopped right on top of him.
It didn’t take long after dancing together - so close, you’re sure the rumor mill was working overtime by now - and listening to Choso’s rock set before you’d all but dragged him upstairs. Blindly, he’s the one that’d led your impatient self to his bedroom and locked the door.
And you’d barely had the time to admire those rock posters along his walls, his practice drum kit, before he’d laid you out on his jet-black sheets.
Before you’d flipped him over and set your thighs upon either side of his pretty, pretty face.
With your hips hoverin’ over Choso’s face, you’re letting your mouth upturn into a smirk as his gluttonous tongue lavishes out. The ridges of his tastebuds already watery with how badly he wanted you, he’s groaning from underneath. “S-sit on my face.”
“What was that?” You’re leaning in with your ear cupped, pretending not to hear. Not close enough for him to actually get what he wants, but enough to have him lunging forwards with a whine. “The music’s really loud, Cho.”
“Sit on my- face.” Such a pretty hot blush spreads all over his cheeks, as if Choso couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his own mouth. With both hands gripped upon both your thighs, he’s pulling you in. “Please sit on my face, ngh- what do I hafta do to have you fuck my mouth properly?”
“How about you beg-”
“Please—”
“Call me ma’am?”
Tears start twinkling at the edge of Choso’s eyes at how badly he wanted you, how ravenous he was. “Please…” Mumbling out in such a pouty way, his lip ring glimmers. “Please, ma’am.”
You shiver, zaps of arousal running down your spine and straight to your core- you couldn’t believe that it was so damn easy to get him to bend to your will like this. And Choso’s noticing your slight shakes with a whine of concern, batting up his lashes-
“Something the matter, baby?”
“Oh, nothing—” You hum, and the bed creaks as you inch just a lil’ forward. “It’s just, you’re already so tempting as is- just one question, have you ever done this before?”
You didn’t know it was even possible for his furious flush to grow even stronger, “N-no…”
“Mmm, thought so.”
To which his brown brows furrow in a plea- “But I promise I’ll be so good for you- mmpf!”
Immediately shutting him up with the front of your pussy- your bloated lips end up glued against his mouth. His greedy maw. His agape cavern. His lip piercing was cold against your outer cunt. His tongue sticks directly out to swipe at your sultry pussy, and you watch in real time as Choso’s doe-like eyes widen, entire body jolting as if he’d just been struck by a million volts of electricity.
And he takes one lick, he takes one slurp.
That’s all it takes for Choso Kamo to get fucking addicted.
“O-oh my god…” Slurring out right between your pussylips, you’re being dragged forwards as if you were nothing but a ragdoll atop him. Nudged right until the tip of his straight nosebridge ends up shoved between your folds, “Mmm, oh my god-” He breathes out—that’s until he realizes that he has to remove himself from your pussy to actually breathe.
And it’s with great pain that and multiple seconds that Choso actually unlatches himself from your cunt to intake a few gasps. Before plunging straight back in with a wet sluuuuurp—“Oh my god- are all pussies this sweet- or is it just yours, ngh! I think it’s just yours, baby…”
Oh, it’s going to be really fun to control him to your lecherous whims.
“I didn’t realize you’d be a fuckin’...oh, fuck.” You’re throwing your head back with a slight yelp. Because without any warning, Choso’s smearing aside your folds with his nose to find your sensitive nub.
Instantly letting his mouth fall open, he’s latching at your clit and drag-drag-draaaagging. And especially with his frigid lip ring, it’s making you feel sensations you didn’t even know were possible. “Mmm, and then there’s this clit of yours—fuck!” As if that wasn’t enough, he’s reaching up a hand to hold your pussylips wiiiide open. Sucklin’ away even deeper, “Just the gift that keeps on givin’, baby, mmm- this pussy is just such a treat. I think I could have her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner-”
He just starts babbling - so drunk on your pussy already that the only thing you can do is grab onto a lock of Choso’s dark hair and pull him off. “Ch-Choso, oh my god.” Wait- did you think you could control him?
He’s blinking his long lashes at you blearily, lips all glossed with your sweetened slick. “What were you saying again?”
“Munch.” You’re spitting out, almost accusing- and a drivel of your spit dangles out of your mouth, ready for Choso to open his mouth and let it splatter onto his mouth. You’re looking down at the display and letting out a shiver, “I didn’t think you’d be such a munch, Choso- you sure you’ve never done this before?”
“P-pussy…” He’s prattling out, hypnotized. Before shaking his head out of that daze, slightly giggling. “I mean- positive.”
Your peripherals widen in disbelief—did he seriously just mix that word up with your pussy? “You can’t be serious…” Deciding to take things into your own hands, you’re tightening your fist ‘round his sweat-drenched bangs a bit more. “Unless you want to- hah, suffocate then you might wanna take it slow, baby.”
“B-but…”
“But what, Cho—?” And oh, he could see that mean glint in your eyes as you tugged his head to the side and made him groan. The sudden movement made Choso’s lips break off with a dampened mwah! and the poor boy is reaching upwards with a few pleas.
“Please-” This eyeliner smearing ‘round the edges as he all but cries at the very thought of your pussy being taken away from him. “Please- no! Don’t take her away from me m’begging- you can take it slow, you can take it slow.” Choso shakes his head fervently, “You can take it slow just…”
And you catch his dilated pupils darting somewhere towards the edge of his bedside cabinet, curiosity growing. “Just what, hm?”
“I just want to have one condition of my own.”
You let him trail off of your pussy- and it takes him a few more open-mouthed kisses before he can even bear to remove himself from your cunt. Without delay, he reaches to open up the drawer beside him. “What are you…”
And you can only watch - slack-jawed and speechless - as Choso fits a silver orb of a tongue piercing right in the middle of his tastebuds.
Right smack-dab in the middle.
You take back what you thought about control.
And you’re barely allowed the time to register just how attractive he looks this way, before Choso’s back plastering his flattened muscle over your pussy. “S-slow, I said, Cho. Slow.”
“Sorry, baby, sorry.” Brows knitting together, he tries to concentrate. “Slow…m’gonna take it…slow.”
You’re gyrating your hips backwards in such a sensual pace - it was almost agonizing the round-a-bout way you’d move your hips back against his face. Keeping him wrapped around your lil’ pinkie, “Mmm, yeah- just like that, Choso.”
Holding onto his scalp, your channel constricts at the way he just kept on cracking out tiny whimpers every time you tugged a bit too harshly at him.
Humming, “Just like thaaaaat-” Feeling his overeager mouth surge faster upwards at the compliment, “Ah ah- slow down, baby. Mmm, just like that.”
Because at least this tempo let you keep your wits about you.
Somewhat…
But then something happens.
But then he’s sensing your deviating hips angle themselves- he’s sensing you crave the cold drag of his piercing. And Choso Kamo just can’t stop his body being sent into a state of frenzy—where it doesn’t matter how much you’re holding yourself back, he’s pulling you in, he’s squelching his tongue upwards, he’s kissing away. “This—” Lapping and lapping up the crevice of your cunt with his lengthy tongue. “Does it feel good on your pussy, baby? Please- please tell me you can feel it.”
“I can feel it.” Breathily, you have to fight to keep your tone under control as he slips n’ slides his textured tastebuds all over your outer pussy. Alternating between those ravenous kisses and lil’ tugs on your clit. “F-feels so cold on my clit- hah.” Fuck slow, he was going wild.
“Good.” And you swear you can feel Choso’s smile spreading across your folds, oh-so-sensitive with his sheer friction. The longer he was kissin’ away at your cunt, the more honest he got. “I got it just for you, y’know?”
And no matter how tightly you’re trying to grab onto his sweaty scalp, Choso was just so feral with his movements. Uncontrollable. You try to haul him backwards to slow him down, but he was only manhandling you further onto his face. “Wh-what do you mean you got it just for me?”
“Exactly what I said, baby—” He’s batting his teary lashes, “That I was thinkin’ of you when I- ngh, got it. That all I could fucking think of when I got my tongue pierced was havin’ your sweet pussy on me like this, and my piercing rubbin’ up against you like- that-”
Lurching on top of him when he stretches your tight hole out with just the crown edge of his tongue. Choso’s circular piercing knocks up against the sides of your walls and leaves you feeling mad, “Oh my god—” Saliva splattering down your front.
Then Choso’s feeling the way you clench, feeling the way your entrance quivers around nothing.
And it was just such a shame to leave your pretty cunt waiting, wasn’t it? So like the good boy he was, he’s slipping an inch of his wet muscle inside and making you gasp at the stretch. His orbed piercing marking his pathway perfectly, “Shit! At least give a girl a warning-”
“M’sorry, baby.” Choso whines, “Y-you won’t take my pretty pussy away from me for that, will you?”
“Well…” At least dragging out your answer let you see him all hopeless and needy like this. But honestly, looking at him - all starry-eyed, blushing-cheeked, half his face slicked in your sap - how could you ever say no to him?
Shit, he might just have you drunk on his tongue.
And your body starts to quake with tiny shivers, with both your hands woven into his hair for stability. You feel the desperate slashes of his tongue increase, and realize that he wasn’t edging any closer to your hole without your permission. How cute…“Nope- but s’gonna be on my terms, baby- oh.”
No sooner are the words panted out of your mouth that Choso’s mazing his prolonged tastebuds straight through your entrance.
A direct pap! to the gooey roof of your cunt- and you gasp at the contact, slightly pulling back. Before Choso holds one side of your hips and makes you sit properly down on his face to slash and slash and slash at your innards. Fucking you with his mouth like such an animal- “Y-yes, anything you say…”
“Fuck- fuck- then-” You’re tugging back with his hair, almost simply to watch the way that Choso’s chasing your cunt afterwards.
“T-tell me m’doing a good job, baby- tell me-”
Hiccuping out, “You’d be a much better boy f’me if you were a little more in control.” His lip piercing was practically glued to your outer cunt, and Choso simply couldn’t decide between sucking on your slit and spreadin’ open your hole with his very lips.
Maddened.
You’re struggling to even think beyond the primal stretch at your hole, and as you tug on Choso’s hair yet another time- he’s moving back in with a growl. “C-can you even think, baby?” Asking, whining through the great dollops of saliva clogging up your throat. He shakes his head and you continue, “Do you even know what you’re doing? Can you even breathe?”
“How can I?”
Drippin’ straight down his pointed chin, droplets of your slick wobble across his skin as he mumbles. “Like I said- m’taking it sloooow—” Stroking your glistening walls multiple times a second, his tongue piercing zig-zagging rapid lines. “M’taking it- hah, just the pace you want it.” His brown eyes glinting with something that looked almost predatory. “M’giving you m-mercy.”
“F-fuck…” A breathless gasp leaves you, eyes widening at the sinful epiphany you’d just come across. “I really…can’t control you.”
Shoving himself a few inches deeper inside your wet pussy, “But she certainly can.”
And then it’s not just Choso’s tongue that’s muddlin’ up your mind (and your cunt), but his fingers decide to join in on the fun, too.
Not only were they unfairly long, but they were so flexible.
Curving juuust the right way to make those chunky metal rings on his fingers dig against your softened walls, “J-just can’t control myself when it comes to this pussy, baby.” He’s whining out between your slick-sheened thighs, splatter after splatter of syrup letting out of you. Choso thrusts his digits in until they’re knuckle-deep, and his skin ‘round that area stings bright red. “Just drives me…wild. Just makes me wanna make her mine and- fuck, fuck everyone that th-thinks otherwise.”
“Oh, please—” Throwing your head back, your thighs start to shiver - and you’re not quite sure whether that’s because of the exertion or the sheer amount of pleasure he was pumping into you. “Please, you’re just so close-”
“No, you’re just so close.” He’s giggling out, taking a lavish lick inside your hole. “I can taste it on her.”
“You- you can…” You breathe out in disbelief.
He locks his lips ‘round your clit now, permanently back to sucking on that cute nub. Drawing out the most adorable whines from your mouth, Choso’s swervin’ his ringed fingers inside of you. Looooog zig-zags, “I can.” Poking his textured tips into any crevice he can find, any orifice. “You’re startin’ to taste so much sweeter, baby- fuh-feels like you’re gonna cum on my tongue.”
Bucking, “I am I am- ngh, I’m so fucking close.”
“Mmmm—just need to hit that p-pretty lil’ g-spot, don’t I?” At that surprised look you’re throwing down at him, “What? Just because m’a virgin doesn’t mean that I’m- ngh, unknowledgeable. I read up on it y’know…”
“And what exactly did you read up on it, Choso?” You can’t help but ask.
“That I need to find that spot and you’ll feel—” The circle of his tongue piercing draaaags so lecherously, right on time with one of his silver rings inside of you. The cold material makes your pupils swirl inside the whites of your eyes, and you almost don’t hear his next words. “-like c-cumming on my face-”
Jostled up by him-
“Please tell me where it is, baby.” He begs, words nearly drowned out by the squelches! of him hammerin’ two fingers away inside of you. “Please- please I want you to cum on my face. I promise I’ll be good…after, just let me know where-”
“Fuh-fuuuuck, Choso.” You’re bawling out, that fire starting out at the pit of your stomach. “You’re just too much- think m’gonna cum soon n’- hck! my g-spot should be…”
He moves, fingers twitching excitedly inside of you.
“-right- up.”
And he’s probin’ into your sweetest spot perfectly—just perfectly.
The roughened knobs of his fingers stick against your bundle of nerves, and you’re feeling a sudden surge of pleasure that makes you see pure white- before you’re throwing your head back and announcing your high. “C-cumming-” You gurgle out, “Oh my god- m’cumming, Choso.”
“H-heh…all on my tongue.” The dark-haired man declares smugly - just as he’d expected, you’d toppled over the edge. He told you he could taste it. “More, baby- more. Ride your orgasm out on my tongue, will you?”
“Doing so…”
Fucking you with his hands.
Not only were you gripping Choso’s long locks in two places and using him to bounce your hips backwards, but he was elongating your high with not two- not three- but four ringed fingers bullied between your tender pussylips.
Just plain mean. The sheer stretch of it was just incredible, and he was openin’ you up like never before.
Eating you out like never before.
You’re feeling wet tears roll down your cheeks at the feeling of his tastebuds rolling over your throbbing clit—slurp-slurp-slurp! Precisely whenever it felt like a peak of your bliss was coming onwards, and that only left you more gone on his tongue. “Feels good like this, doesn’t it, baby?” With a sloppy noise, he then continues to suck on your clit. “Mmmm- not bad for a first timer.”
“P-perhaps.” You didn’t even know what else to say. You’re shivering throughout your entire body when he slobbers his tongue over from your clit to start pricking n’ prodding at your hole. “Shit- y’know my high’s almost over, right, Choso?”
“I know.”
And yet he still doesn’t stop.
Not until you’re left fucked utterly dumb on his mouth, not until he’s letting you ride through your entire orgasm and then some, not until he has you in actual tears of overstimulation-
“P-please-” You couldn’t believe how you sounded at this point - you. Queen Bee. Things always went your way- but now you were at Choso’s complete and utter mercy. “Give your mouth a little rest, Cho-”
He seethes, as if offended. “I don’t even need to breathe when I have your pussy on me, you think I’d stop because m’jaws fuckin’ tired, baby?”
Blubbering, “Maybe not- but hck! if you slow down now then I’ll have more stamina for ah- something else…” For him? You’d have stamina regardless, but the lil’ warning worked in getting Choso to unglue his pierced lips from your pussy with a final mwah!
And it was the loudest, most sinful noise you’ve heard in your entire life.
Enough to get you to shake with arousal, and for Choso to use his strong arms n’ seat you down on his lap. With your legs straddling his slender waist now, he’s sitting up.
Staring down at you through heavy half-lidded eyes, “You were saying…?”
“I was saying.”
He just looked too sexy like this.
Long hair all rumpled with you running your fingers through them. His eyes faintly misty and sex-crazed. More than half his face was gleaming with your syrupy slick. Lips puffy. Eyeliner smeared. Rings all stained with a few layers of your sap that he licks right off- all while looking straight into your dilated pupils.
Your cunt throbs.
Eager to get him back for this, you’re tearing off Choso’s t-shirt of some punk-rock band. And beneath—oh, were you pleasantly surprised.
You’d somewhat expected Choso to be one of those types that were silently muscular, silently toned, silently so strong.
Your eyes greedily followed the curves and dips of his sculpted front, and realize that he was blushed all the way down to his prominent pecs. You reach out and touch the spattering of star-like freckles across them, and then so on forth to his…nipple piercings.
Your thumb snags on the glinting bar that pierced his left pec- and he hisses.
“Oh my-” You’re cooing, “S’this for me, too?”
“Y-yes.”
You push him down flatly onto the bed, making his pillows puff up with the pressure. Your hands then sensually caress the ladder-like ridges of his abs - all smoooooth and rippling at your touch.
Down, down, dooooown to ultimately end up buried in his slightly unruly happy trail. “It’s always the quiet ones, huh?” His breath hitches once you start fiddling with his jeans, tugging—pulling. “Who would’ve thought that cute lil’ Choso Kamo, always so quiet and shy, would be like this.” Your mouth waters as his pants start loosening, “That he’d be so, so…”
Big.
There was no other adjective for it.
Choso Kamo was simply so big - just the prettiest rose-red at his tip, all engorged that it was as if every ounce of blood in his body had ended up at his cock instead. A few puffy veins. Just the barest curls of brown at his base. His erection stood looooong and upright, dribblin’ out a few lines of precum at the intensity of your stare.
And there- right in the middle of his shaft was a circular piercing that sat snugly underneath a particularly prominent vein. Winking up at you like it couldn’t wait to feel you.
And even from here, you could tell that Choso was already the type to be so sensitive-
“D-don’t-” To your surprise, his right hand snakes down and ends up at your throat. Gently holding you back from getting any nearer to his raging hot cock.
You’re mentally counting about ten of his inches- maybe eleven?! And you look up at him in slight confusion.
He clears his throat, “I mean- it’s just that I know what you’re thinking. But the thing is, if you put your lips on me now then m’just gonna…cum…instantly.”
Your brows raise damn near to your hairline, “What if I want that then?”
“I’ll beg you not to.”
“Beg.”
“Please, ma’am- fuck-” You’ve just made that punk-rock boy beg—and not only that, whilst he was midway through his pleading, you’d made him throw his head back with the cutest whine.
How?
Simply swervin’ your hips over his aching hot length, and whilst Choso had been talking- you’d just runnnnn your glossy pussylips down the thickness of his length. Simply sandwiched between your folds, he’d felt so thick and solid against your entrance.
Throb-throb-throbbing away.
It’d only left you…ravenous for more-
“Need you to fuck me now, Cho.” You lean in to tell him, your breath scorching against his face. And Choso had the urge to lean up and lick those dried tears off your cheeks. “Want you inside me so fucking bad-”
“Fuh-fuck- don’t talk like that.” He’s urgently saying, head snapping downwards.
And you’re following his gaze just to find that Choso’s bawling divot had started pouring out bead after bead of gooey white sap at your words. Simply your words. He was almost on the verge of cumming at your words.
And oh- how he both loves and hates that mischievous smile that spreads across your pretty face. “But it’s just the truth, Cho.” Batting your lashes up at him, “I just really want you inside-”
“Please-”
“Always wanted you inside-”
“I w-won’t go easy-”
“Always dreamt of you inside- oh, fuck.”
It’s the last thing your nasty mouth can get out before Choso’s grabbing onto either side of your shoulders and shoving his thick, aching cock inside of you.
Just a single inch, perhaps not even that.
Just the slightest intrusion.
And it’s so sexy that you almost wished you recorded the way he’s letting his toned chest heave with a gasp, the way he’s flushing all the way down to his roots, the way that Choso’s entire body seems to zap with sultry lightning—a mere pause.
You could almost feel the question that hangs in the air - so this is what you feel like?
Before then he’s shoving and shoving.
Like he’s gone absolutely wild- “Fuck-” Choso spits between his honed teeth, “Fuck- hold still.” Grabbing onto you anywhere, everywhere—just anything that would keep you there while he tried to fuck his cock inside you until your sweetened sap is overspilling. “Hold still, hold still, hold—” You weren’t even prepared to accommodate him, and yet you can feel an inch or so more of his thickness funnel inside. “—still.”
“Oh my- oh my god!” You’re thrashing at the sudden pressure being put on your lower half, but Choso’s keeping his hold firm. He’s pinning you down. He’s not letting you move a single inch. He’s not even giving you a mere warning before reeling his puffy inches back-
Your eyes snap open, and you’re just about to ask whether he was pulling back.
-before Choso’s snapping his hips to yours and only tunneling that globular tip of his even deeper. “Hold still.” He spits down a splat! accurately onto your cunt, “You- you just need to hold still.”
It was like a mantra. You’re shivering at the tone of his voice.
There was a certain roughness to his words, a certain primal want in them that you’ve never heard from Choso before. Or anyone, ever, really.
It made your heard damn near beat out of your chest, and your fingers tremor as you reach up to him. Gliding away the sweaty bangs that obscure Choso’s gaze, “What did you say now, baby?”
“I said-” And you can only gasp as he lunges his hips back a few more inches, barely even letting your cunt constrict around nothing before he’s pushing in with a deep thwack! It’s enough to make your body lurch at the sudden intrusion- to which Choso’s tightening his grip on you until he was white-knuckled. “-hold. Still.”
But how could you possibly hold still when you were stuffed in so tight that you barely felt like you could even breathe. Could barely even keep it together. Could barely do anything but arch your back and-
“Didn’t I fuckin’ tell you to hold still?”
Your jaw drops, turning your head down to look at him—weren’t you supposed to be the mean one out of you two? “You did, but-”
“Then hold—” Clearly feeling that he needed to up the ante, both his hands detach from your sides. You could already feel the steam wafting out from where his touch had once been, and those very same rude palms waste no time ending up…laced on top of your crowned scalp. “-fucking-” Using the leverage to push you down onto his drilling hips, “-still.”
He finally looks up at you then - finally.
And what you see shakes you to your very core.
Because Choso Kamo’s pupils were dilated until it looked almost animalistic, in a way you didn’t even know was possible for a human. He looked crazed. He looked hungry. He looked as if he was on the verge of devouring you whole right then and there.
And then he’s fucking you like it, too.
Rough, rapid half-thrusts just to fit inside.
Fuck—Choso’s throbbing circumference was just too fucking big to bottom out immediately. But he’s sloppily dragging down your channel until he was just about halfway inside, with the knob of his silver piercing tickling your entrance.
With a gruff groan, he swipes that frigid metal ‘round your hole as if claiming you. The shy man hisses at the resistance of your cunt before holding you down and pushing- “Hold still before I fucking c-cum.”
“Oh-” You’re gasping, “So that’s why-”
“Fuck- actually, don’t even speak.” And you’re quickly understanding why when even the mere sound of your whiny voice leaves Choso’s bludgeoning tip twitching.
Hard and fast.
Desperate and needy.
Like he was trying to claim even the slightest ounce of space inside you, Choso bucks his hips and lets his dewy eyes flutter shut. Mouth falling agape, “Shut up and take it. D-don’t test me, baby.” With the hand plastered on top of your scalp, he’s ramming you right back down to meet his hips. “Not unless you want me to cum i-inside right this very second.”
“But what if I do?”
“Fuck…fucking- shut—” Shutting you up by a ringed thumb pushed into your mouth, it was just so easy for him to reach down from your crown. Preventing you from talking back, preventing you from running, preventing you from doing any fucking thing but taking his thickly massive cock.
Ignoring those words of yours that were definitely riling him up, Choso instead focuses on letting his blushin’ tip scrape at your g-spot.
It leaves you absolutely incoherent, squealing ‘round the intrusion of his thumb. “Please-” You’re somehow managing out, “Please I- hck! love it like that- would love it even more if you would cum in-”
“Fucking- I can’t even—” And he just sounds so agonized as he drills up into you like a madman - Choso’s oversensitive cock wasn’t even ready to, didn’t even think he could handle it. And yet he’s doing so to prevent you from yammering on with those filthy words of yours. Choso’s crying out. “Is that you or her talking- you or her—stop talkin’ outta your pussy, baby, s’gonna drive me w-wild.”
Blinking away your tears, the edge of his thumb had slipped out of your mouth by now. Drawing a splattering smear of saliva, “And here I thought you said you were g-going to let me have my way-”
“Did I say that?” As he pauses to think, you could see the brief glimmer of human recognition spark in Choso’s deep irises. “Can’t remember, heh.”
“You little-”
You’re cut off by your own surprised yelp, because in absolutely no time- Choso has your positions flipped over. It was you that had your back against the mattress now, being pushed further and further in the direction of the headboard any time he moved.
And Choso was just lurking above you, was just pinning you down with his mere muscular weight.
He didn’t even have to try to halt your restless hips in their pursuit, and throws your legs over his shoulders easily to fuck you in the meanest mating press possible.
Your ass against his thighs, his forehead bending down to press against yours.
This angle was just perfect.
In absolutely no time, his rounded cockhead was bludgeoning against every sweet orifice on your walls. Before he’s ultimately slide-slide-sliiiiding down to dig his circular girth against your cervix- with a great thud! that sets your teeth on edge.
His pale hips slam into yours again and again and again- “H-hold still.” Just about the only thing that he could get out now, right between those clenched canines of his. It was more on autopilot than anything, because you weren’t moving a single inch- and yet Choso was already so gone on your cunt that he couldn’t stop babbling. “Didn’t I tell you to stop moving- oh, this sweet pussy…she’s just being so filthy f’me.”
“And you’re just being so pussydrunk, Cho.” You’re somehow giggling out, though he’s slowly fucking that laughter out with a rough few slams at your deepest depths.
Not slowing down until you couldn’t help but feel his bruisin’ tip even after he’s pulled out, just to sink all the way back in again. “Hold- fucking- still—”
“I am.”
“Wh-what do you even mean?” Sounding genuinely confused, genuinely so dazed. You’re sure that if you squeezed your soft, velvety walls this very second then Choso would completely forget the last few seconds of your conversation.
Almost to test it - you do.
And you watch as the dark-haired man immediately drops his head to the crook of your neck, clammy skin-against-skin. You watch as he shivers, you watch as he only raises his face to stare at you with bleary eyes. “Wh-what were we talking about again, baby…?” And even more so- you’re raising both your hands up to toy with the glinting silver of Choso’s nipple piercings, rolling your fingers over his rosy buds. And you watch as an even more dopey expression overcomes his features, “We were nght—talking?”
Even his syllables were slurring together. You had to bite back a giggle, “Just talking about how much I wanted you to fill me- ngh- up.” You’re tugging and teasing his cute nipples, he lets off the prettiest short gasps any time you’re pressing down on the pierced nubs of his nipples like a button. “You can cum inside right now if you wanted, Cho.”
“R-right…” And his eyes grow just a bit clearer, he’s nodding as if he remembered exactly what you meant. Scouring one hand off your head and down the middle of your core, “Right- was talking about how I wanted to fill this ngh- cute womb up like craaaaazy- weren’t we?”
“Yes- fuck yes.” You’re moaning as his speed suddenly grows even faster.
“And we were talking about how m’gonna cum any second now?” He presses down on the top of your stomach as he pounds past your geysering orifice, creating the perfect pressure that makes the both of you whimper. “And how m’gonna be the one to cuh-cum first?”
“Yes- yes-”
“Because m’so patheeeeetic on this pussy, aren’t I?” An almost crazed tone in his voice, something that sends zaps of electricity thrumming through your every vein. “I’d die for her- I’d ngh- do anything for her.”
You throw your head back, body arching against his glissading abs. “You…are…oh.” And you didn’t know who was more shattered at this point - you or—
“But you’re not pathetic for wanting this touch-starved loser virgin to fill your cunt up with my cum?”
You.
It was absolutely you.
At least, it was you in this very moment.
Because somewhere in the middle of his vulgar strokes, Choso had somewhat regained his senses. At least enough to make you end up with heart-eyes on his cock, your cunt slobberin’ out any time he’s pulling his hips back.
A great splosh! of sap pathetically spilling out from between your legs leaves him crinkling his nose with a shy chuckle. “Cute.” Before you know it, his hands lift off of your scalp to wrap one at your throat. The other drifts down somewhere between your legs…“You- ngh, reeeeally want me to fill this pretty pussy up, baby?”
And you can’t help but become so-very-honest on his rovering cock, knockin’ against your every sweet spot and aching to knock you up! “Yes-” You blurt through tears, “Yes, I really- ngh, really want you to.”
“Sh-shit, you don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of you saying that.”
You might have been opening your drooling mouth to respond with something, but Choso’s cutting you off by slithering his slender index and thumb between your pussylips and pinching your cute clit. You’re moaning loud enough that you’re sure the party downstairs must have heard- “J-just like that-” Letting your limp limbs twitch with the crackles of pleasure. “Just inside, baby.”
“Mhmmm- inside inside- inside.” Choso’s grunting out after each ravenous roll of his thumb atop your nub. He’s hitting your pelvis a few more times with his, making the slamming of skin echo out into the room. “But you better cum f’me first, baby.”
Your eyes snap wide open, “Why me first-” Speeding up, your g-spot was practically getting bruised by this point.
“Can’t you indulge this loser a little and let me make you cummmm again-” He coos, fingers so fast on your clit that they look like nothing but a blur. “S’all I’ve ever wanted ever since I first- ngh, saw you, y’know? To give this pussy a gooood proper fuckin’ that I knew she wasn’t getting- I might’ve been a virgin but I could learn.”
“And you’d be the- hah, one to do that?”
He’s slamming his globular length into your so hard that your tastebuds sizzle, and you swear you can taste his salty pre at your throat. Choso’s starin’ you deeply into your eyes whilst he fucks you maddeningly, deeply into your eyes whilst he says. “Baby, I already am.”
As he finishes his filthy sentence, Choso purposefully shortens some of his furious thrusts. Because he didn’t even want to wait for the recoil of your spongy womb before he’s pumping in one more, because he wanted to assault your poor throbbing g-spot with his orb piercing. Rubbing and rubbing—
Until you’re finally crashing into your second high of the night.
Such an incredible sensation that you can’t decide which one was better - both of them were the two best in your entire life, however.
“Hold still-” Choso unplasters his hand from your neck, which then moves down to grip at your waist. To keep your waist pinned down to the creaky mattress, “Hold still while I fuh-fuck you like you deserve.” And above all - to let the fat, drivellin’ tip of his cock glide down your g-spot and alllll the way to your womb with absolutely no problem. Again and again. Every peak upon peak being draaaaagged out—“Hold still while- ngh, oh…fuck, I can barely even speak because of her.”
It takes over your body in waves - first your toes that curl, then your thighs that just won’t stop twitching, your heaving chest your muddled mind.
And then finally that mouth of yours that keeps on begging- “Now- now your turn.” Stubbornly, you lock your ankles around the back of Choso’s neck. Not even halfway through your own orgasm before you’re begging for his, “Gonna hold still- so you h-have to do it inside, m’kay, Cho?”
He’s staring at you with such dazed eyes, “Y-yes, ma’am.”
Because you always did get what you wanted.
And the tingles of your high have just barely begun to peter out, before they’re being replaced by the sheer sultry warmth of Choso’s ivory syrup.
The volume.
The way he was flooding you up with only a few vicious strokes.
It oozes out like a never-ending fountain by his strawberry divot, ending up emptied allllll the way near the back of your womb. “Y-yes—” You whine. You pinch Choso’s nipple and he spurts out just a few more pearly beads of cum, “Right there, Cho, want it all deep inside.”
“F-fuck—ngh—” Red-hot. Splashing. Entire body bowing into yours, sweat breaking out across his skin. He scrunches his eyes shut and lets the powerful bliss overtake him, “Oh my god it just feels so- hck! S’even better than I imagined cumming inside you- oh.”
You follow the line of his bleary sight- only to find that Choso was staring where you both were connected.
Your swollen folds. The ring of white ‘round his base.
The fatness of his thumb hovers right down to smear away that cute gloss of white, slurp! “Except in my, mmm, dreams, it was more like—” Though it was for no use, because Choso’s free hand only presses down on your stomach anyway. Until his creamy white cum oozes out of you in slick layers, “-this.”
You’re gaping at the mess he’s made, “And you were telling me to h-hold on-”
“I still am.”
Body moved around by him like a ragdoll, he’s using the hand on your stomach to pin you down. Shoving every solid inch of his cock back and forth—Choso thud-thud-thuds at the goopy wetness of your womb with each of his wads.
Fucking each one inside you.
Webbing up your insides until your toes curl-
His second hand tilts open your jaw and spits- before kissing you, tongue piercing and all. “Wanna take my virginity a second time?”
.
.
.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK—!
“Rise and shine—! The sun is shining! The grass is green! Your father is back from his trip-”
Now, Choso Kamo will say that he isn’t exactly sure what it is that woke him up that morning. Perhaps it was his father’s usual morning call, as one of those people that were much too happy in the early hours. Perhaps it was the warmth at this side, the way he doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know who it is. Perhaps it’s the way he presses a soft morning kiss on the side of your neck, how it all felt like a dream.
Perhaps it’s the girlish scream.
Two of them. One from his father and one from him.
Sitting up in alarm, Choso’s dragging his blanket further up your partially-covered bodies. Trying (quite futilely) to perhaps cover the nail marks down his back and shoulders, the hickies all over your body, the way both your mouths were still swollen.
Face heating up at Itadori Jin’s wide, gawking eyes from the doorway, “D-dad!” And you start to stir at Choso’s yelp, “Dad, get out-”
“R-right away!”
BANG!
As the thunderous sound of the door closing, you’re lurching up in his bed. Now fully awake, you pull the sheets to your chest. Words nothing but a whisper- sore with all the overuse from last night, “Tell me what I think just happened didn’t just happen…”
Choso opens his mouth to answer (maybe lie and forget this ever happened)-
Before there’s a rapid knock and the door swings wide open once more.
Jin’s pinkish hair makes an appearance, and he keeps his eyes trained shamefully on the floor. Choso starts to protest. You yelp- “Breakfast is downstairs and I’ve made enough for everyone so please stay, okay bye!” He announces over your two voices, and promptly slams the door shut once again.
And you’re left in the silent wake of it—floor rumbling with the vibrations of the door, loud enough that you think you could hear your two thumping heartbeats. Oh my god….
Choso’s the one to break the silence - he kisses you chastely on the lips. “I uh- first day as a couple is going smoothly?”
Sitting up in alarm, Choso’s dragging his blanket further up your partially-clothed bodies. At some point in the night you’d gotten up to make yourselves somewhat presentable and help Yuji clean up after the party. And at some point in the night you’d also kept getting handsy in his room…
It doesn’t take you too long to throw on whatever t-shirt and pyjama pants that Choso hands your way, before admiring just how cute you looked in his clothes…alright maybe it did take long before the two of you were finally ready to make an appearance downstairs. But only because he kept insisting on kisses!
The kitchen quietens down at your entrance, and you’re setting sights on a man that must be no other than Choso’s grandpa- right along with another, younger, one who was the spitting image of Jin. Just slightly rougher around the edges. Tattoos. Piercings- ah, you understood where Choso must’ve gotten his style influenced from.
You’re at their round breakfast table, with his uncle (Sukuna, you hear) on your right, and Choso on your left. The dark-haired man reaches over and runs a hand down your thigh soothingly once conversation starts back up-
“How do you like your eggs, my dear?” Jin asks you, and when you answer he instantly gets to work - waving off your urgent requests to help. “No no- sit, sit! You’re the guest! I always have told Cho here to treat his guests- not that he ever brought anyone over, you’re the first!”
“Certainly- treated her well-” Sukuna coughs out the words only to get elbowed by Wasuke and flicked with egg by Jin. Batting away the concoction, he looks at you by way of explanation. “I’m not a regular uncle, I’m a cool uncle.”
Jin starts up another batch for you, “But anyways- I know we’re just getting to know each other now, my dear, but I do want to thank you for taking care of him.”
“The pleasure’s all mine.” You meet Choso’s eyes, and he blushes.
“Awwwww—” Jin, who’d been there to witness the entire thing, starts to flutter about in excitement. He didn’t even care that the eggs were starting to burn- “You two are just dears! Oh, is it too late to show you the baby photographs- tell me it’s not too late!”
Not sure what to say, “I uh…”
“Oh, it’s alright- I’ll just show you the middle school pictures for today and we can save the baby pictures for…also today.” Without waiting for your response, Jin’s disappearing somewhere into the living. Spatula and all. “Yuji, where’s your camera again, my dear?”
Yuji, who’d been shooting smug looks at you two ever since you’d entered calls out- “Should be uh- on the couch?”
And for a second, there’s a moment of peace.
Only for a second, however, you have to remember that this is the Itadori household that you’re in.
And Itadori Jin’s voice thunders from outside the kitchen—“Choso Kamo. Itadori Yuji. Get to the TV room this- instant!” A shiver goes down your own spine despite not being called out, and you wondered just what made the sweet man sound this way.
As a group, everyone in the kitchen rushes along with the boys.
Only to find Jin standing with the camera, plugged into the television, and its screen displaying—
Choso pouring a mountain of shots on their very kitchen table.
Jin deadpans, “Choso…can you explain to me what you are doing in this photo?”
Choso squints at the screen, “That’s not me.”
“That’s not you?”
“…Nope.”
“Okay.” Jin replies easily, “How about these?”
Shuffling through the pictures on the camera - and you have to hold in a nervous laugh at the shots upon shots of shots, of Choso’s band playing at the party last night, of all the rambunctious students dancing, of a few smashed vases that was likely no one but Jin’s - and then, finally, he’s stopping on one.
One of you and Choso—dancing.
So close.
Your foreheads pressed together
Smiles only for one another.
In the peripherals of the shot, you could see people starting to whisper and hoot at the two of you, you could see your own friends squealing excitedly at the fact that it’d finally happened. But there seemed to be a strange world of your own there that no one else could quite penetrate. Choso’s eyes were just sparkling.
He giggles, “Heheh, that’s me…”
A/N. Oh this was so funnnn- thought of Yuji as Greg and was like WAIT-
WARNINGS: NSFW / Explicit Sexual Content, MDNI (Minors Do Not Interact), some manipulation (it's caleb, come on), possessiveness, slight size kink, praise, manhandling, some begging, fingering, choking, Canon!Caleb i fear, threesome, arguments, raw seggs, squirting, cunnilingus, use of Evol, blowjobs, double penetration, anal, applecrow, spit, jealous!caleb, cocky!sylus, cum eating, aftercare
You checked the time on your phone again, cursing under your breath.
Ten minutes.
That was all Sylus had given you, and four of those precious minutes had already slipped away while you scrambled to look presentable. Your fingers trembled slightly as you swiped on a final coat of lip gloss, the memory of his last message burning in your mind.
10 minutes or I'll come knocking. Don't test me, kitten.
The thought of Sylus appearing at your doorstep sent a shiver down your spine—not entirely from fear.
The leather jacket slipped over your shoulders as you made one final glance in the mirror.
Six minutes left.
Your heart raced, not just from the rush but from anticipation of what Sylus might have planned for this deal of yours.
Five minutes now.
You grabbed your keys, bag, and slipped your feet into boots without bothering to tie them properly. The hallway stretched before you like a runway to freedom, to the night air, to him.
You took three hurried steps forward—and then your world tilted as you collided with something solid and warm, something that smelled of sandalwood and gunmetal.
Not something. Someone.
"In a hurry?"
Caleb's voice was velvet-smooth but laced with steel as his hands steadied you, gripping your upper arms with a pressure that wasn't quite painful but wasn't gentle either. His violet eyes bore into yours, reflecting the hallway light with an unsettling intensity.
Your stomach dropped. Caleb wasn't supposed to be home.
He was supposed to be in Skyhaven at some military function, something that would keep him occupied well into the early hours. His mechanical right arm whirred almost imperceptibly as his fingers tightened around your bicep.
"I—yes, I'm actually late for something," you managed, trying to slide past him, but he shifted, blocking your path. The wall was at your back, Caleb at your front, and the clock ticking mercilessly in your head.
Four minutes.
"Late for what?" His head tilted, the movement smooth but predatory. "Or should I ask, late for whom?"
The way his voice dropped on that last word made your skin prickle. There was something dangerous in his tone, something possessive that sent conflicting signals of warning and warmth through your body.
"Just meeting a friend." The lie slipped out easily, practiced as it was. "Nothing important, but I promised I'd be there."
"A friend." His lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Interesting. You've been sneaking out a lot lately to meet these 'friends' of yours."
The mechanical fingers of his right hand released your arm only to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, the cool metal making you shiver. "Where exactly have you been going? These little excursions of yours are becoming quite frequent."
Three minutes.
Panic fluttered in your chest like a trapped bird. Sylus wasn't known for his patience, and the thought of him showing up here, with Caleb home, made your mouth go dry.
"Look, I'm really late," you said, trying again to move past him. "We can talk when I get back, okay?"
His human hand caught your wrist as you tried to slip by, the grip firm enough to stop you in your tracks.
"That's how it is? That's how you welcome your sweet brother home?" The hurt in his voice sounded genuine, but the gleam in his eyes told a different story. "After everything I've been through, after fighting my way back to you, you can't spare even ten minutes?"
The guilt hit you like a physical blow.
It was unfair of him to use that against you—the months of believing he was dead, the grief that had nearly destroyed you, the shock of his return with a mechanical arm and scars that went far deeper than skin.
But fair or not, it worked.
You felt yourself softening, the urgent need to escape beginning to dissolve under the weight of his gaze.
"Caleb, I—"
"I thought about you every day," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Every single day. When I was in that hellhole, when they were cutting into me, replacing parts of me, do you know what kept me alive?"
You swallowed hard, knowing the answer but unable to stop yourself from asking, "What?"
"You." His forehead pressed against yours, the familiar scent of him enveloping you. "The thought of coming home to you. And now I'm here, and you can't wait to run off to someone else."
Two minutes.
But it didn't seem to matter anymore. The urgency that had propelled you toward the door was fading, replaced by a different kind of heat.
Caleb's proximity, the intensity of his gaze, the way his thumb traced circles on the inside of your wrist—it was a different kind of danger, one that called to something deep and primal within you.
"I'm not running to someone else," you said, the words half-truth, half-lie. Sylus wasn't Caleb's replacement; he was something else entirely. Something you needed in a different way.
Caleb studied your face, his eyes tracking every microexpression, every flicker of your gaze. Then, slowly, his lips curved into a knowing smile—not warm, not cold, but satisfied.
"There you are," he murmured. "There's my girl."
And you knew he had you. The way your body responded to him—the slight lean toward his warmth, the unconscious parting of your lips, the flutter of your pulse beneath his fingers—gave you away completely.
One minute remained of Sylus's ultimatum, but in that moment, with Caleb's violet eyes holding you captive, ten minutes or ten hours seemed equally distant.
Caleb had always been able to read you like this, even before whatever had happened to him during those missing months. But now there was something new in the way he watched you—something calculated and possessive that should have frightened you but instead sent a shameful thrill down your spine.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Sylus, no doubt, his patience exhausted. But Caleb's hand was already sliding down to interlace his fingers with yours, tugging you gently back toward the living room, away from the door, away from your escape.
"Stay with me," he said, and it wasn't a request. "Whatever—or whoever—is out there can wait."
Zero minutes.
Time was up.
But as Caleb led you deeper into the apartment, his mechanical fingers warm against your skin, you found yourself following, the urgency of your planned meeting with Sylus fading against the more immediate gravity of Caleb's presence.
Caleb guided you to the couch with a gentle but insistent pressure, his mechanical arm sliding around your waist as he settled beside you.
No, not quite beside—he positioned himself around you, one leg bent on the cushion to cage you between his body and the back of the couch.
The leather creaked as he leaned in, his larger frame creating a human fortress that both sheltered and trapped you. His eyes, those impossible violet irises, searched your face with a hunger that made your breath catch.
"Do you have any idea," he whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear, "how empty the apartment feels when you're not here?"
His human hand curled around your jaw, thumb tracing your lower lip with featherlight pressure. "I promised myself I'd be home for Christmas, but that's not enough. I need to be with you now, every day until then."
Your throat tightened and your chest ached with a hollowness that somehow filled you completely, like the moment before tears when you can't tell if you're about to cry from happiness or pain.
You knew what he was doing—manipulating your emotions, leveraging your shared history—but knowing didn't make you immune.
Not when his scent surrounded you, a complex blend of military-issued soap and pine needles that transported you back to Christmas mornings in his arms, before he deployed.
"I've missed you," he continued, pressing his forehead against yours. "Missed this."
His lips found yours with devastating precision, soft at first, then gradually more insistent. He kissed like a man savoring a last meal, thoroughly and with single-minded focus.
His mechanical hand slid up your back, supporting you as he deepened the kiss, while his human fingers traced a burning path from your jaw down your neck, then lower, skimming along your collarbone.
You gasped into his mouth as his hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, his touch warm against your bare skin. He swallowed the sound, then broke away to trail kisses down your throat, lingering at the pulse point where your heartbeat betrayed your growing arousal.
"So responsive," he murmured against your skin. "Always so perfect for me."
The contrast between his words and actions made your head spin.
Sweet praise delivered with such possessive intent, gentle touches that somehow managed to control your every movement. His teeth grazed your neck, not hard enough to mark but deliberate enough to make you shiver.
"Mine," he whispered against your pulse, the word barely audible yet somehow filling the entire room. His mechanical fingers tightened fractionally at your hip, the pressure calibrated to the exact threshold between pleasure and pain.
He shifted, pulling you more firmly against him, and you became acutely aware of just how much larger he was than you.
His military training had sculpted his body into something formidable, broad shoulders and firm muscle that dwarfed your frame. The mechanical arm whirred softly as he cradled you, its enhanced strength evident in how effortlessly he maneuvered you exactly where he wanted.
You felt engulfed by him, surrounded on all sides, and the sensation sent a forbidden thrill through your body.
"You fit against me just right," he said, as if reading your thoughts. His hips shifted subtly, and there was no mistaking the hard ridge pressing against your heated core. "Feel what you do to me? How much I want you?"
The heat of his erection radiated through the layers of clothing separating you. He moved again, more deliberately this time, grinding himself against you with a barely restrained groan that vibrated through your body. His mechanical hand splayed wrapped around your hips, holding you in place as he continued the slow, torturous motion.
"Touch me," he whispered, an edge of desperation creeping into his voice. "Please, I've thought about your hands on me for so long."
The plea in his voice shattered something inside you.
This was Caleb—your Caleb. Your hand trembled slightly as you reached for him, fingers fumbling with his belt before slipping beneath the waistband of his pants.
"Fuck," he breathed as your fingertips brushed against him. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, breath hot against your neck. "Just like that."
You wrapped your hand around him, feeling the velvet hardness, the heat that seemed to pulse beneath your touch. Caleb's hips bucked involuntarily, pushing himself further into your grip as a broken sound escaped his throat. His lips found your neck again, kissing and nipping as you began to stroke him slowly.
"You're so good to me," he murmured between kisses, the praise sending a rush of warmth through your core. "So perfect."
Without warning, his hands gripped your waist, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. He repositioned you on his lap, your back to his chest, legs splayed outside of his. The new position pressed your ass directly against his erection while exposing you to the room—vulnerable, on display.
"Let me show you how much I've missed you," he said, his voice deeper now, roughened by desire.
His hands guided your hips, establishing a rhythm that had you grinding against him in slow, deliberate circles. The friction sent sparks of pleasure up your spine, made more intense by how completely he controlled the motion.
His mechanical arm wrapped around your middle, holding you steady while his human hand began a leisurely exploration of your body.
Starting at your throat, his fingers traced a path downward, pausing to squeeze your breast through your shirt. He kneaded the soft flesh, thumb circling your nipple until it hardened to a sensitive peak. Your head fell back against his shoulder as he continued his exploration, mapping your body like territory he was reclaiming.
"So beautiful," he murmured, his hand sliding down to your stomach, fingers splayed wide as if measuring how small you were compared to him. "All mine."
The possessive edge in his voice should have alarmed you, but instead, it sent a flood of heat between your thighs. His hand continued its downward journey, tracing the waistband of your pants before dipping lower, cupping you through the fabric.
A soft gasp escaped your lips as his fingers pressed against your center, finding the exact spot that made your hips jerk involuntarily. Even through your clothes, his touch was electric, precise, as if he'd memorized every detail of your body.
"Already so wet for me," he observed, his voice a mixture of smugness and wonder. "I can feel you through your pants."
His teeth grazed your earlobe as his fingers increased their pressure, circling your clothed clit with maddening precision. All the while, his hands guided your hips in that slow grind against him.
Your breath caught with each rotation—forward: pressure against your clit, backward: the hard ridge of him pressing exactly where you needed it. Your head lolled back, mouth falling open, eyelids fluttering. The room tilted. His name formed on your lips but dissolved into a whimper before you could speak it.
"Caleb," you breathed, your voice barely recognizable to your own ears.
"I'm here," he answered, his mechanical arm tightening around your waist as his human hand finally, mercifully slipped beneath your waistband. "I'll always be here for you."
His fingers found your bare skin, sliding lower until they encountered the slick evidence of your arousal. The touch was electric, sending a jolt through your body that had you arching against him, pressing yourself more firmly into his hand.
"That's it," he encouraged, his breath hot against your neck. "Show me how much you've missed me too."
"Please," you whimpered, your hips bucking against his teasing fingers. "Touch me more, Caleb."
The need in your voice was raw, unfiltered, all pretense of resistance long abandoned. His mechanical hand tightened slightly around your waist, the whir of its internal mechanisms matching the pounding of your heart as he pressed his lips to the nape of your neck, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.
"Anything for you," he murmured, the words vibrating against your pulse point. "I love when you beg."
His fingers retreated from your heat, but only long enough to work at the button of your pants, deftly unfastening it with practiced ease. The zipper followed, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet apartment.
Caleb hooked his thumbs into the waistband and tugged, sliding the fabric down your thighs. You lifted your hips to assist him, your body responding to his silent commands as if choreographed.
The cool air hit your exposed skin, raising goosebumps that Caleb traced with his warm human hand, a delicious contrast that made you shiver. His touch was reverent as he explored the newly bared flesh, trailing up from your knee, across your inner thigh, and back to where you ached for him.
"So beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "So perfect for me."
His mechanical arm shifted, adjusting your position on his lap to open you further while his human fingers found your center again, this time with no barriers between you. The first touch against your slick folds drew a gasp from your lips, your body arching involuntarily.
Caleb circled your entrance teasingly before dipping one finger inside, so slowly it bordered on torturous.
Your inner walls clenched around the intrusion, greedy for more, and he rewarded your eagerness with a second finger, stretching you in a way that burned so sweetly you couldn't help but moan.
"That's it," he encouraged, curling his fingers to find that spot inside you that made your vision blur. "Let me hear you."
As his fingers established a rhythm—in and out, curling on each withdrawal to hit that perfect spot—his mechanical hand slid up your body.
Metal digits, warmed by your skin, traced the column of your throat before wrapping around it with deliberate pressure. Not enough to restrict your breathing, but enough to remind you of his strength, of how completely he controlled the situation.
"Do you feel that?" he asked, his voice a dark caress in your ear as his grip tightened fractionally. "How perfectly you fit in my hands? How your body was made for me to pleasure?"
The pressure at your throat combined with the skillful movement of his fingers inside you created a heady cocktail of sensations that had your mind spinning.
Your chest rose and fell in tiny movements against the cool metal of his hand, lungs burning for more air than he allowed, while between your legs, your hips jerked helplessly with each curl of his fingers inside you—your body no longer your own to command.
"No one else knows your body like I do," Caleb continued, his words punctuated by the wet sounds of his fingers working inside you. "No one else can make you feel this good." His thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive bud with maddening precision. "You'll always need me, won't you? Always come back to me."
It wasn't a question, not really, but you found yourself nodding anyway, desperate agreement spilling from your lips as the pressure built inside you. His mechanical fingers flexed around your throat, the subtle reminder of his control pushing you closer to the edge.
"That's right," he purred, increasing the pace of his fingers. "I'll always be here for you. Always take care of you. No one else matters."
The dual sensations overwhelmed your senses—his warm human fingers curling inside you, stroking that perfect spot that made your vision blur, while the cool metal of his other hand pressed against your throat just firmly enough to make each shallow breath a delicious struggle.
Your pulse hammered wildly against his mechanical grip as pressure built low in your belly, a molten heat spreading outward until your thighs trembled and your toes curled, the precipice of release looming tantalizingly close. Your hips bucked erratically against his hand, chasing the building pleasure with single-minded focus.
"Let go for me," Caleb commanded, his voice tight with his own restraint. "Come on my fingers, show me how good I make you feel."
The dam broke. Pleasure crashed over you in overwhelming waves, your body seizing as your inner walls clamped down on his fingers. Your eyes rolled back, lids fluttering as you surrendered completely to the sensation.
Caleb's name tore from your throat, a desperate prayer as you rode out the intense orgasm, your body jerking with aftershocks as he continued to work you through it.
"Beautiful," he murmured, pressing kisses to your shoulder, your neck, anywhere his lips could reach as you came down from the high. "So perfect for me."
"So this is why you’ve been late, kitten."
The unfamiliar voice—no, not unfamiliar, horrifyingly familiar—sliced through your post-orgasmic haze like a knife.
Your eyes snapped open to find Sylus standing before you, his tall frame silhouetted against the dim light of the hallway. His crimson eyes gleamed with an emotion you couldn't immediately identify, his platinum hair falling in artful disarray as he tilted his head, taking in the scene before him.
Mortification washed over you in an icy wave. You tried to close your legs, to cover yourself, but Caleb's grip remained firm, his mechanical arm still wrapped around your waist, his human hand still between your thighs.
Worse, you realized with growing horror, he was deliberately spreading his fingers, keeping you open and exposed to Sylus's penetrating gaze.
"Caleb, please," you whispered, tugging futilely at his wrist.
But Caleb merely chuckled, the sound vibrating against your back. You couldn't see his face, but you could feel his satisfaction radiating from him in waves. He was enjoying this—enjoying Sylus seeing you like this, vulnerable and claimed.
"Why would she be with you," Caleb said, his voice a lazy drawl as he addressed Sylus directly, "when she has me?"
The casual possessiveness in his tone made your cheeks burn with shame and something else—something you didn't want to examine too closely. His fingers curled slightly inside you, sending a shiver up your spine that made your breath catch.
The weight of his palm pressed against your thigh, holding you open, exposed. When you tried to shift away, his knuckles flexed deliberately, a silent reminder that made your inner walls clench involuntarily around him.
Sylus's expression shifted, the initial surprise giving way to something darker, more calculating. His crimson eyes narrowed as they traveled from your flushed face down to where Caleb's fingers disappeared inside you, then back up again. A slow smile spread across his face, predatory and promising.
"We'll see about that," he said simply, stepping further into the room, each movement deliberate as a jungle cat stalking its prey.
The air in the apartment seemed to crackle with tension as the two men locked eyes, you caught literally in the middle, your heart hammering in your chest.
This wasn't how you'd imagined your evening going—but as Sylus approached, his intent clear in every line of his body, you realized with a mixture of dread and shameful excitement that your night was far from over.
The space around you shrank to nothing as Sylus advanced, his powerful presence filling the room like smoke. Suddenly you were sandwiched between two formidable men—Caleb still beneath you, his hardness pressing insistently against you, and now Sylus before you, caging you in with arms braced on either side of your head.
The leather couch creaked under the added weight as Sylus leaned in, his crimson eyes locked on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. Trapped between them, you felt small, desired, and dangerously out of control.
Caleb's fingers resumed their movement inside you, a deliberate provocation that drew a gasp from your lips. The sound was swallowed immediately by Sylus, who captured your mouth in a kiss that was nothing like Caleb's measured exploration.
This was possession, pure and raw, his tongue sweeping past your lips to claim every inch of you. He tasted of expensive whiskey and danger, his hands gripping your face to hold you steady for his assault.
Behind you, Caleb growled low in his throat, his mechanical arm tightening around your waist. His fingers curled inside you with renewed purpose, as if determined not to be forgotten in the wake of Sylus's arrival.
Sylus's tongue invaded your mouth as Caleb's fingers pumped into your dripping cunt, the dual assault making your pussy clench and your thighs quiver. Your nipples hardened to aching points, your body a live wire of raw need as you whimpered and writhed between them like the desperate little slut they were turning you into.
Sylus broke the kiss, leaving you gasping for air, only to trace a burning path down your jaw to your neck. At the same time, Caleb's lips found the opposite side of your throat, both men marking you with open-mouthed kisses that would surely leave evidence of this encounter.
The contrast between them was stark—Sylus's kisses were demanding, almost bruising, while Caleb's held a gentleness that belied the possessive grip of his mechanical arm.
"She's so wet," Caleb murmured against your skin, his fingers still working inside you. "Has been since I touched her. She doesn't need you here."
Sylus chuckled, the sound vibrating against your pulse point. "Yet she was rushing to meet me when you intercepted her." His hand slid down to cup your breast, thumb circling your nipple through your shirt. "I wonder what she wanted from me that you couldn't provide?"
"I give her everything she needs," Caleb countered, his voice hardening as his fingers thrust deeper, drawing a moan from you. "Look at how she responds to me."
"To you?" Sylus laughed, the sound dark and rich. "I've barely started touching her, and she's trembling beneath my hands. Imagine what she'll do when I really put effort into it."
Their voices washed over you, their argument about your pleasure as if you weren't present, as if you were merely a prize to be won through superior technique.
It should have been dehumanizing, but instead, heat pooled between your thighs at their words. There was something undeniably arousing about being the center of such focused attention, about being the battlefield for their competing desires.
You reached out, one hand gripping Caleb's thigh behind you, the other fisting in Sylus's shirt, a wordless attempt to silence them, to redirect their attention back to the task at hand rather than their competition.
But the men were too engrossed in their power play to heed your silent request.
So focused were you on their words, on Sylus's hands exploring your body, that you didn't notice Caleb's subtle repositioning, the shift of his hips, the withdrawal of his fingers—until something much larger pressed against your entrance. Your body, slick from arousal and his earlier attention, offered only token resistance as Caleb eased himself inside you with one smooth thrust.
The sudden fullness tore a shocked gasp from your throat, cutting off whatever you'd been about to say to chastise them. Your inner walls clenched around his intrusion, adjusting to his size as he seated himself fully inside you.
"Fuck," Caleb moaned against your ear, his hips grinding upward, pushing himself impossibly deeper. "So perfect for me. You fit me like you were made for this, for taking me inside you."
The praise washed over you in a wave of heat as your body surrendered to the sensation. Sylus pulled back slightly, his crimson eyes narrowing as he observed the change in your expression, the flush spreading across your chest, the way your lips parted on each shallow breath. Understanding dawned on his face, followed by a predatory smile.
"Sneaky," he commented to Caleb, but there was appreciation in his tone rather than anger. His hands moved to your shirt, deftly unbuttoning it to expose more of your skin to his hungry gaze. "But two can play at that game."
Sylus lowered his head, trailing kisses down your newly exposed skin. His lips were cool against your heated flesh, raising goosebumps in their wake.
He worked methodically, removing each piece of remaining clothing with practiced ease while his mouth mapped every inch of you. His hands gripped you everywhere—your shoulders, your waist, your breasts—leaving temporary imprints that branded you as claimed.
All the while, Caleb maintained a steady rhythm beneath you, his mechanical hand guiding your hips in small circles that had him hitting spots inside you that made your vision blur.
Caleb's cock dragged against that perfect spot deep inside you with each measured thrust, while Sylus's cool lips left fiery trails across your collarbone.
Your thighs quivered uncontrollably, caught between Caleb's mechanical grip and Sylus's wandering hands, your breath coming in stuttered gasps that neither man seemed to notice—or perhaps they simply enjoyed the way you struggled to remain conscious as pleasure short-circuited your brain.
Sylus left a trail of hickeys down your stomach, marking his territory as he descended. His strong hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider, exposing you fully to his gaze. The position folded you nearly in half, your knees pushed toward your chest, leaving you completely vulnerable to both men's attentions.
"Beautiful," Sylus murmured, his breath hot against your most sensitive flesh. His eyes flicked up, meeting yours with wicked intent before his mouth descended, tongue flattening against your clit in a broad stroke that had your back arching off Caleb's chest.
The first touch of Sylus's tongue against your core sent a shock wave through your system. Combined with Caleb's continued thrusts, it created an overwhelming circuit of pleasure that short-circuited your brain. Sylus worked with expert precision, sucking and licking at your clit while Caleb filled you from below, their rhythms somehow complementary despite their competition.
"Fuck, look at her," Caleb groaned, his pace increasing as he watched Sylus pleasure you. "She's gonna cum again."
"She is," Sylus agreed, his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. "All over my tongue, while you watch."
The tension built inside you like a spring wound too tight, pleasure coiling at the base of your spine, radiating outward with each thrust of Caleb's hips, each flick of Sylus's tongue.
When it finally broke, it was with an intensity that bordered on pain. Your body convulsed between them, inner walls clenching rhythmically around Caleb as a flood of release gushed from you.
The force of your orgasm was so strong it pushed Caleb out of you, your body's contractions expelling him as you squirted across Sylus's face.
Rather than pull away, Sylus moaned against you, drinking in your release as Caleb's mechanical hand moved to the back of his head, holding him firmly in place against your pulsing core.
"That's it," Caleb encouraged, his voice strained as he watched you come undone. "Give it all to him. Show him who you really belong to."
Sylus groaned against you, the vibration prolonging your pleasure as he lapped at your release, his crimson eyes locked on yours with an intensity that promised retribution for this momentary submission.
"My turn," Sylus growled, the sound vibrating through your still-trembling body.
His crimson eyes, darkened to the color of spilled blood, held a predatory gleam as he maintained his grip on your thighs. Rather than releasing you after your intense orgasm, he pressed your legs further back, keeping them folded until your knees nearly touched your shoulders. Your body, still sensitive and buzzing from release, offered no resistance as he positioned you exactly how he wanted.
Suddenly, the pressure of Sylus's hands disappeared, yet your legs remained suspended in their folded position. The air around your limbs seemed to thicken, an invisible force holding you in place.
Caleb's mechanical arm whirred softly as he extended it past you, his gravity Evol creating an unseen harness that kept you displayed and vulnerable.
"Let me help with that," Caleb murmured, his voice a dark velvet against your ear. "I want to see everything he does to you."
The casual demonstration of his power sent a fresh wave of heat through your core. With your legs suspended by Caleb's Evol, you were exposed even more obscenely than before, your glistening cunt on full display for Sylus's hungry gaze.
Sylus stood at the edge of the couch, his eyes never leaving your body as he began to undress. There was something performative in his movements, a deliberate slowness as he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal the lean muscle beneath. His platinum hair caught the dim light as he shrugged the fabric from his shoulders, letting it fall forgotten to the floor.
All the while, Caleb's human hand returned to your sensitized flesh, fingers circling your clit with feather-light touches that had you squirming in his invisible bonds. Each time you bucked against his hand, more of your arousal spilled from you, evidence of your continued desire despite your recent release.
"Look how wet she still is," Caleb observed, his tone smug as he gathered your slickness on his fingers. "No one makes her this way but me."
Sylus's only response was a knowing smirk as he unfastened his belt, the leather sliding through the loops with a soft hiss. His pants and underwear followed, revealing his impressive erection, already fully hard and curving slightly toward his stomach. He wrapped a hand around himself, stroking slowly as he watched Caleb play with your oversensitive flesh.
"She's responsive, I'll give you that," Sylus finally said, his voice a low purr as he stepped up onto the couch, his powerful thighs bracketing your shoulders. "But let's see how she responds to me."
Without warning, he pressed the head of his cock against your lips, his intention unmistakable. Your mouth opened instinctively, allowing him entry as he cupped the back of your head with one large hand.
"That's it, kitten," he praised, his crimson eyes locked on yours as he fed more of himself into your mouth. "Take all of me."
The angle was awkward but effective, allowing Sylus to control the depth of his thrusts as he began to move. His grip on your hair tightened, not painfully but with enough pressure to remind you of his dominance. His hips worked in short, controlled movements at first, letting you adjust to his size before he began to push deeper.
"Fuck, your mouth is perfect," Sylus groaned, his composure slipping as you hollowed your cheeks around him. "Hot and wet, just like that pretty cunt of yours."
Behind you, Caleb continued his ministrations while removing his clothes, his fingers now pressing inside you again, curling to find that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes.
Sylus's thick shaft stretched your lips wide as Caleb's fingers curled inside your dripping heat, both men claiming you at once. Each time Sylus pushed deeper into your throat, Caleb's digits pressed against that swollen spot inside you, creating a pulsing rhythm of fullness that had you whimpering and sucking harder, your body caught in a delicious feedback loop of being taken, used, and worshipped simultaneously.
"She likes that," Caleb observed, his voice tight with restraint. "The vibrations when she moans around your cock."
Sylus's rhythm faltered for a moment, his eyes closing briefly in pleasure before he regained control. When his gaze met yours again, there was a new intensity there, a determination that sent a thrill of anticipation down your spine.
"I made her squirt," Caleb said suddenly, the smug pride in his voice unmistakable. "Did you see how she gushed all over your face? Never done that before, have you, pipsqueak?"
Your answer was impossible, muffled by Sylus's cock as he continued to thrust between your lips. But Sylus didn't need your confirmation; his eyes narrowed at Caleb's claim, a competitive fire igniting in their crimson depths.
"You think you made her squirt?" Sylus laughed, the sound dark and challenging. "Your cock wasn't even inside her anymore. It was my mouth that pushed her over the edge."
"My fingers were still working her," Caleb countered, demonstrating with a particularly deep thrust that had you arching against him. "I know exactly how to touch her to make her come undone."
The argument continued over your head, their voices growing more heated as they debated who deserved credit for your explosive orgasm.
It was surreal, being discussed so clinically while both men were actively pleasuring you, but there was something undeniably arousing about being the prize in their competitive game.
"Enough talk," Sylus finally said, withdrawing from your mouth with a wet sound that would have embarrassed you under other circumstances. "I'll show you who can make her squirt."
He moved with fluid grace, repositioning himself between your suspended legs. His hands gripped your thighs, taking over from Caleb's gravity manipulation as he lined himself up with your entrance.
"Watch and learn," Sylus directed at Caleb, then thrust forward in one smooth movement that seated him fully inside you.
The sudden stretch drew a shocked cry from your lips, your body arching off the couch at the intrusion. Sylus was larger than Caleb, filling you in a way that bordered on too much but somehow remained on the pleasurable side of pain.
"Fuck, she's tight," Sylus groaned, his composure slipping as your inner walls clenched around him. "Still so wet from coming on my tongue."
Before you could adjust to the feeling of fullness, Caleb shifted beneath you. His mechanical hand gripped your hip, lifting you slightly as he positioned himself at your other entrance.
"Don't forget about me," he murmured, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your ass. The earlier wetness had provided some lubrication, easing the way as he pushed inside with careful precision.
The sensation of both men filling you simultaneously was overwhelming—too much and yet somehow not enough.
Your body stretched to accommodate them, nerve endings firing with pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. Sylus used his Evol on your legs, folding them further until they were practically beside your head, the position opening you completely to his penetration.
"Like an animal in heat," Sylus observed, his voice rough as he began to move, setting a brutal pace that had the couch creaking beneath you. Each thrust drove him deeper, his cock hitting spots inside you that sent waves of pleasure crashing through your system.
Caleb, by contrast, remained largely still, allowing Sylus's movements to drive you back onto his length. Sylus drove into you like a jackhammer, each thrust jolting your body forward, only for Caleb to catch you with his steady presence behind, holding you in place as you slid back onto him.
Your eyes rolled back, mouth falling open in a silent scream as lightning shot up your spine, your fingers curling into claws against the couch cushions, unable to remember your own name.
"Look at her," Sylus growled to Caleb, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs. "Taking both of us so well."
"She was made for this," Caleb agreed, his mechanical arm whirring as he adjusted his grip on your hip. "Made for us."
Their voices mingled in your ears, competitive moans and groans that seemed to increase in volume with each thrust, each withdrawal. They were performing for each other as much as for you, each trying to prove their dominance through the sounds of pleasure they could draw from you.
Caught between them, filled beyond capacity and drowning in sensation, you surrendered completely to the experience, your body no longer your own but a conduit for their pleasure and competition.
The pressure built inside you again, a tidal wave gathering force as both men worked your body with skilled precision.
Your muscles tensed, thighs trembling in Sylus's Evol as the familiar tightness coiled at the base of your spine.
When it broke, it was with a violence that surprised even you—fluid gushed from your core, soaking Sylus's abdomen and thighs as your inner walls clamped down rhythmically around him. The force of your orgasm was so strong it nearly pushed him out, just as it had done to Caleb earlier.
"Fuck," Sylus hissed, his crimson eyes widening as he witnessed your release. Unlike Caleb, however, he seemed prepared for this reaction. Rather than allowing himself to be expelled, he drove forward with renewed determination, fighting against the contractions of your body to maintain his position deep inside you.
"That's it, sweetie," he growled, his platinum hair falling forward as he leaned in, maintaining the pressure. "Give me everything."
Behind you, Caleb's mechanical hand tightened on your hip, his human arm wrapping around your waist to hold you steady against the force of your own orgasm. He'd learned from his earlier experience, adjusting his grip to prevent being pushed out of your body again.
"See that?" Sylus directed at Caleb, his voice strained but triumphant as your release continued to coat him. "This is what happens when you know what you're doing."
Caleb's response was to pull your hips more firmly against him, seating himself impossibly deeper in your ass. The sensation of being so completely filled, even as you were still riding the waves of your orgasm, drew a broken sob from your throat.
"Fuck, do it again," Caleb demanded, but it wasn't clear if he was speaking to you or to Sylus. His breath came in hot pants against your neck, his own control clearly slipping. "Make her squirt again."
Sylus's eyes flashed at the challenge, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "With pleasure," he replied, adjusting his grip on your thighs to spread you even wider.
The two men began to move in tandem, finding a rhythm that had them alternating their thrusts—Sylus pushing in as Caleb withdrew, then Caleb driving forward as Sylus pulled back.
Your vision blurred at the edges, mouth falling open in a silent "oh" as your fingers clawed at nothing. The room spun, dissolved, disappeared entirely. There was only the push-pull rhythm of their bodies, only lightning crackling up your spine, only the wet heat where they filled you completely.
Caleb's human hand slipped between your bodies, finding your clit with unerring accuracy. His fingers circled the sensitive bud, adding yet another layer to the overwhelming stimulation. At the same time, Sylus dug his fingertips into the soft flesh of your thighs, using his grip to control the angle and depth of his penetration.
Their eyes met over your body, a silent communication passing between them. For all their verbal sparring and competition, there was something almost collaborative in the way they worked your body now, each reading the other's movements to maximize your pleasure—and by extension, their own triumph.
Caleb flicked your clit with practiced skill, his gaze never leaving Sylus's face as he deliberately pushed you toward another peak. The challenge was clear in his violet eyes: match this.
Sylus responded by adjusting his angle, the head of his cock dragging against that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. Caleb's finger circled your clit in tight, knowing spirals while Sylus angled his hips just so, the ridge of his cock dragging against that spot inside that made your vision blur at the edges.
Your thighs began to tremble uncontrollably, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as your hips bucked between them of their own accord, chasing a pleasure your mind couldn't comprehend but your body somehow still craved.
As the pleasure built, you watched Sylus's face transform. His usual composed expression gave way to something rawer, more primal. His lips parted, his breathing grew ragged, and a fine sheen of sweat made his skin glow in the dim light. The sight of him losing control was nearly as arousing as the physical sensations rocking your body.
"Fuck, you feel incredible," Sylus groaned, his rhythm faltering slightly as his own pleasure mounted. "So tight, so wet for me."
A drop of saliva escaped his parted lips, falling onto your chest and sliding between your breasts. The sight of it—this physical evidence of his loss of control—sent a fresh surge of arousal through you.
Sylus noticed your reaction, a knowing gleam entering his crimson eyes as he deliberately let more drool slip from his mouth, a filthy display that had you clenching around him involuntarily.
"You like that?" he asked, voice rough with desire. "Like seeing what you do to me?"
Before you could answer, he leaned down, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was all consuming heat and desperation. His tongue invaded your mouth, mimicking the actions of his cock below, claiming every part of you he could reach. The taste of him—whiskey and something darker, more primal—flooded your senses as he devoured you.
When he finally broke the kiss, you were left gasping for air, your lips swollen and sensitive from his attention. "More," you pleaded, surprising yourself with the neediness in your voice. "Kiss me again, Sylus."
A smug smile curved his lips at your request, satisfaction evident in every line of his face. "Gladly, kitten," he purred, leaning in to claim your mouth once more.
Behind you, Caleb stiffened, a low growl rumbling in his chest at the exchange. His mechanical hand moved from your hip to your throat, applying gentle pressure as he turned your head toward him, breaking your kiss with Sylus.
"Don't forget who had you first," Caleb murmured, his violet eyes dark with jealousy and arousal. He crushed his lips against yours, the kiss more possessive than passionate as he stared challengingly at Sylus over your shoulder.
Unlike his usual measured approach, this kiss was messy, almost desperate. His tongue pushed past your lips without preamble, reclaiming territory that Sylus had just explored. The taste of him was different—cleaner, with hints of mint and something metallic that reminded you of his mechanical arm.
You were caught in the crossfire of their competitive desire, your body the battlefield and your pleasure the prize. Caleb's hand remained on your throat as he kissed you, the pressure just enough to remind you of his strength without restricting your breathing.
Sylus, not to be outdone, leaned in again, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. Caleb's tongue pushed past your teeth, claiming every inch it could reach while Sylus hovered at the edge of your mouth, his breath hot against your skin.
The tip of his tongue darted out, catching the corner where your lips met Caleb's. Your body jerked. Again—a quick, wet flick that made your toes curl. Caleb growled into your mouth. A thin thread of saliva broke from your bottom lip, sliding cool down your chin as your vision blurred at the edges.
Then, with a boldness that shocked you, Sylus pushed forward, his tongue slipping into the kiss alongside Caleb's. The sensation was foreign, exhilarating—two tongues exploring your mouth simultaneously, sometimes tangling with each other in a display that was as much about their competition as it was about pleasuring you.
The sight and sensation of the two men kissing around and through you, their tongues meeting in your mouth, pushed Caleb over the edge. His rhythm faltered, his grip on your throat tightening fractionally as he groaned into the three-way kiss. You felt the hot pulse of his release inside you, filling you as his hips jerked erratically against your back.
The sound of Caleb's pleasure, the feeling of his orgasm, and the continued pressure of both tongues in your mouth triggered Sylus's release as well. He broke the kiss with a guttural moan, his head falling back as he drove himself deep one final time, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside you.
"Fuck," he breathed, his voice wrecked as the aftershocks of his orgasm rippled through him. "God damn."
The three of you remained locked together for several heartbeats, a tangle of limbs and shared breath as the intensity of the moment slowly ebbed. Then, with careful movements that betrayed how overstimulated you all were, Caleb and Sylus withdrew from your body, leaving you feeling strangely empty after being so completely filled.
Your limbs felt weighted with satisfaction, body humming with aftershocks as Caleb gently maneuvered you. His mechanical arm whirred softly as he lifted you with effortless strength, repositioning you so you were sitting properly on the couch, your back against the cushions.
Your legs fell open naturally, still trembling slightly from exertion as Caleb arranged himself on the floor before you. A moment later, Sylus joined him, both men kneeling between your spread thighs like supplicants before an altar, their eyes dark with renewed hunger despite their recent release.
"Look at this mess we've made," Caleb murmured, his violet eyes taking in the sight of your well-used body, glistening with a mixture of your arousal and their release. His human hand traced the inside of your thigh, collecting a droplet of combined fluids on his fingertip. "We should clean her up, don't you think?"
Sylus's crimson gaze moved from your face down to your core, his expression shifting from satisfied to predatory once more. "I was thinking the same thing," he agreed, his voice a rough purr that sent fresh shivers down your spine.
Without further discussion, both men leaned forward, their intentions unmistakable. The first touch of their tongues against your sensitive flesh—Caleb on the right, Sylus on the left—drew a startled gasp from your lips.
You were oversensitive from the multiple orgasms they'd already wrung from your body, but instead of backing away, they adjusted their approach, their touches becoming gentler, more deliberate.
Caleb's tongue traced along your outer folds, gathering the evidence of your shared pleasure with meticulous care. Sylus, meanwhile, focused on the crease where your thigh met your sex, cleaning away the trails of fluid that had escaped there. The sight of their heads between your thighs, working in tandem to taste and clean you, was almost as arousing as the physical sensation of their tongues.
"You taste like us," Sylus murmured against your skin, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. "So fucking good."
Caleb hummed in agreement, the vibration sending a jolt through your overstimulated nerves. His mechanical hand curled around your thigh, holding you open as his tongue dipped inside you, collecting more of the mingled essences there. When he withdrew, his lips and chin glistened with moisture.
Caleb's tongue stilled against you. His violet eyes flicked sideways, locking onto Sylus. The corner of his mouth lifted—just barely—as he slowly turned his head.
A single glistening thread of fluid stretched from his bottom lip to your inner thigh, catching the light before breaking. Sylus met him halfway, their mouths coming together in a kiss that was as much about sharing your taste as it was about their own pleasure.
The sight was mesmerizing—Caleb's dark hair contrasting with Sylus's platinum locks as they kissed deeply between your spread legs. Their tongues visibly tangled in the space between their parted lips, slick and pink, exchanging glistening threads of pearlescent fluid that caught the light before breaking and reforming.
Caleb's tongue curled possessively around Sylus's, both men's eyes half-lidded as they shared the mingled taste of you and themselves in an obscene, hypnotic dance that had your breath catching in your throat, your pulse hammering in your ears.
Caleb's hand moved to the back of Sylus's neck, holding him in place as he deepened the kiss, while Sylus's fingers gripped Caleb's shoulder, nails digging into the skin there.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathing heavily, lips swollen and wet with shared saliva and the evidence of their earlier activities. The look that passed between them was charged with something beyond competition now—a mutual appreciation, perhaps, or a shared understanding of the pleasure they could create together.
"More," Caleb demanded, his voice rough with renewed desire. He dipped his head back to your core, gathering another taste before turning back to Sylus, who eagerly accepted the offering.
This time, their kiss was even more aggressive, almost violent in its intensity. Sylus fisted his hand in Caleb's hair, tugging sharply as their tongues battled for dominance.
The wet sounds of their kissing filled the room, punctuated by occasional groans that vibrated through your thighs where they pressed against you.
Caleb's throat worked as he swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, while Sylus's fingers dug crescents into his rival's shoulder. Their mouths crashed together again, a wet, hungry sound filling the room as Sylus's platinum hair fell across Caleb's dark brow.
The muscles in their jaws flexed and released with each desperate movement, neither yielding, both consuming. Your pulse quickened as Caleb's fingers tightened in Sylus's hair, their lips no longer battling for dominance over yours, but hungrily seeking each other.
The wet sound of their kiss sent a fresh wave of heat between your thighs, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from the place where Sylus's tongue slipped between Caleb's parted lips—the same lips that had just been pressed against your most intimate places.
Heat pooled between your thighs again, your body responding to the visual stimulus despite how thoroughly you'd been satisfied already.
Without conscious thought, your hand drifted down your body, fingers finding your still-sensitive clit. The first touch sent a jolt through your system, but you didn't withdraw, instead beginning to circle the swollen bud with light, teasing strokes.
Neither men seemed to notice at first, too engrossed in their passionate exchange to register your movement. This gave you the freedom to watch them unobserved, to take in the play of muscles beneath skin, the way Sylus's pale hair fell forward as Caleb pulled him closer, the contrast of Caleb's mechanical hand against Sylus's very human flesh.
Your fingers moved faster as their kiss deepened, your arousal building with each flick of their tongues, each muffled groan that escaped their joined mouths. There was something forbidden about touching yourself while watching them, as if you were spying on an intimate moment rather than participating in it.
The thought sent a fresh surge of heat through your core, your fingers growing slicker as you worked yourself toward another peak. Your breathing quickened, soft pants that gradually drew the attention of both men. Their kiss broke as they turned toward you, eyes widening as they took in the sight of your hand between your legs.
"Look at her," Sylus murmured, his voice thick with appreciation. "Getting herself off watching us."
"Fucking beautiful," Caleb agreed, his violet eyes darkening as he tracked the movement of your fingers. "Don't stop, pips. Show us how you like it."
Their attention only heightened your arousal, your fingers moving faster, pressing harder as they watched with hungry eyes. The way they looked at you—like you were something precious and desirable, something to be devoured—pushed you closer to the edge. When Sylus and Caleb leaned in to kiss again, their eyes still fixed on your working hand, the combined visual stimuli sent you hurtling over the precipice.
Your orgasm crashed through you with unexpected force, your back arching off the couch as pleasure radiated outward from your core. Fluid gushed from you in a powerful stream, catching both men by surprise as it sprayed across their faces and chests. Instead of pulling away, they moved closer, positioning themselves directly in the path of your release.
"Fuck, yes," Caleb groaned, tilting his head back, mouth open to catch the spray. Beside him, Sylus did the same, his crimson eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure as your release splashed across his lips and tongue.
The sight of them willingly accepting your squirt, eagerly drinking it down, prolonged your orgasm, each pulse of pleasure accompanied by another gush of fluid that they greedily consumed.
When the last aftershock had rippled through you, both men were soaked, their hair plastered to their foreheads, their skin glistening with your release.
Without hesitation, they turned to each other again, sharing another deep kiss that mixed your essence between them. Then, as if by unspoken agreement, they both leaned forward, bringing their mouths to your oversensitive sex.
Your spine arched off the couch as their tongues traced different patterns against you—Caleb's slow circles contrasting with Sylus's quick flicks. Your fingers found platinum strands on one side, dark waves on the other, twisting and gripping as electricity shot from your core to your fingertips, your toes curling against the cushions.
They took turns licking into you, sometimes with individual strokes, sometimes with their tongues working in tandem, occasionally breaking away to kiss each other with your taste fresh on their lips.
"Perfect," Sylus murmured against your sensitive flesh, the word more felt than heard. "So fucking perfect."
Caleb hummed in agreement, the vibration sending fresh sparks of pleasure through your system as they continued their tender ministrations, cleaning away every trace of your shared pleasure with devoted attention.
Your body felt deliciously spent, limbs heavy with satisfaction as both men finally pulled away from between your thighs.
Caleb was the first to move upward, pressing gentle kisses along your stomach, between your breasts, up your neck, until he reached your lips. His kiss was tender now, without the earlier desperation, as his human hand cupped your cheek with surprising softness. When he pulled back, Sylus took his place, his lips equally gentle against yours, his crimson eyes searching your face.
"Are you okay?" Sylus murmured, his thumb brushing away a strand of hair that had stuck to your damp forehead. The concern in his voice was genuine, a stark contrast to his earlier predatory intensity. "We weren't too rough?"
Caleb's mechanical hand rested on your shoulder, the metal warmed from contact with your skin. "Tell us if we hurt you," he added, violet eyes scanning your body as if checking for injuries. "We got carried away."
The shift in their demeanor was striking—two men who moments ago had been locked in fierce competition over your pleasure, now united in their concern for your wellbeing.
You stretched slightly, taking inventory of your body. You were sore, certainly, in places that would remind you of this encounter with every movement tomorrow, but it was a pleasant ache, a souvenir of pleasure rather than pain.
"I'm perfect," you assured them, your voice slightly hoarse from moaning. "Just... extremely sticky."
A smile tugged at Sylus's lips as he glanced down at your sweat-slicked skin, marked with evidence of your shared activities. "That can be remedied," he said, rising to his feet with fluid grace despite having spent the last hour in various strenuous positions. Without warning, he bent down and scooped you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly against his chest. "A bath is in order, I think."
Your head fell naturally against his shoulder as he carried you, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear oddly comforting. Behind you, Caleb followed, his footsteps quiet on the carpeted floor as you made your way to the bathroom.
The apartment's bathroom was spacious, with a large sunken tub that could easily accommodate all three of you.
Caleb moved past Sylus, turning his attention to the bath. His mechanical arm whirred softly as he adjusted the taps, testing the water temperature with his human hand before adding bath salts that filled the room with the scent of lavender and sandalwood.
"Not too hot," he instructed Sylus, who still held you partially supported against his chest. "She's sensitive right now."
Sylus rolled his eyes but didn't contradict him, instead pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. "I think she knows what temperature she likes," he countered, though there was less bite in his words than before. "Don't you, kitten?"
The familiar pattern was emerging again—their subtle competition for authority, for who knew you better, for who could take better care of you.
It might have been annoying if it weren't so endearing, this strange dynamic where they fought over you while simultaneously working together to ensure your comfort.
Steam began to fill the bathroom as the tub filled, creating a misty atmosphere that softened the edges of everything. Caleb tested the water again, adding cold until he was satisfied with the temperature, then turned to face you both.
"Perfect," he declared, extending his hand toward you. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you cleaned up."
Sylus made a soft sound of disagreement in his throat. "I'll help her in," he said, his arms tightening slightly around you. "You've had her to yourself enough times."
"I'm her brother," Caleb replied, the word carrying a weight of history and complicated emotions that belied its simple meaning. "I should be the one taking care of her."
"Brother," Sylus repeated with a raised eyebrow, his tone making it clear what he thought of that particular designation after what had just transpired in the living room. "Is that what we're calling it now? Because siblings don't usually—"
"Don't start," Caleb cut him off, his violet eyes narrowing. "You know what I mean. I've known her longer. I understand what she needs."
"And yet she was rushing to meet me tonight," Sylus pointed out, a smug smile playing around his lips. "Must be something I provide that you don't."
"That was—"
"Stop," you interjected, your voice stronger than you expected given how exhausted your body felt. "Both of you. I'm sitting right here."
They had the grace to look momentarily abashed, though neither fully relented in their stance. Sylus's arms remained protectively around you, while Caleb's hand stayed extended, waiting for you to take it. The tension in the steam-filled bathroom was palpable, their earlier collaboration giving way once again to rivalry.
"I need you both to shut up," you continued, fixing each with a pointed look. "Or I swear to god, I will call Gideon—" Caleb's expression shifted to alarm at the mention of his friend "—and tell him exactly how you lost No Nut November."
Caleb's extended hand dropped immediately to his side, his eyes widening in something akin to horror. "You wouldn't."
"And Luke and Kieran," you added, turning your gaze to Sylus, whose smug smile had frozen on his face. "I'm sure they'd be fascinated to hear all about their boss's... activities tonight."
The reaction was immediate and deeply satisfying. Sylus's arms loosened around you as he straightened, clearing his throat. "That's... unnecessary," he said carefully, all trace of smugness vanished.
"Completely unnecessary," Caleb agreed quickly, suddenly finding the pattern of the bathroom tiles intensely interesting. "We were just... discussing options."
"No, you were measuring dicks again," you corrected, unable to suppress a smile at their discomfort. "And while that was entertaining earlier, now I just want to soak in that bath without listening to you two argue about who made me feel better or who gets to spend more time with me."
The silence that followed was broken only by the soft lapping of water against the sides of the tub. Then, surprisingly, Sylus chuckled, the sound genuine and warm.
"Fair enough," he conceded, helping you slide down from the counter. "Truce, Caleb?"
Caleb hesitated only briefly before nodding, his mechanical arm extending to help steady you as you moved toward the bath. "Truce. For now."
pairing: plumber!sukuna x fem!reader x plumber!gojo
about: oh no! two plumbers caught you in the middle of your one on one time… lucky you, they have some pipes that need draining as well. but, your actual drain may still need fixing!
warnings: nsfw - mdni, NO PLOT/JUST FILTH, non canon, crude lanauge, names (baby, whore, etc), smut, m/f/m, fem!masturbation, toys, fingering, squirting, spit kink, sucking of fingers, three way kiss, oral (m!receiving), pussy slapping, face fucking, face slapping, unprotected piv/anal — doggy, reverse cowgirl, eiffel tower (who cheered), double penetration, cum shooting, facial, this is a p*rn set.
wc: 6.6k (like ok…)
note: needed a break from the heavy plot fics, so wrote straight filth instead. also i know tojikuna won that poll but uh… here's sukugo instead! enjoy!! for my dear sukugo fuckers, @crude-saint and @motel6killer (thank you for reading and editing) <3 (art creds: @creampress for header/@aquazero for dividers)
A small red light flickers on; the soft click of a button breaks into the room.
You sit on your couch — tank top pushed up, your tits on full display and your thighs spread wide, pink shorts thrown across the arm rest.
Your tongue rolls around your index finger, glossed lips wrapped around the digit. Your eyes fluttering closed as you feel heat pool at your center. Thighs twitching, waiting for more.
With an over-dramatic 'pop', you pull your wet finger from the warmth of your mouth, rolling it against one of your peddled nipples. Your back arching at the cool feel dancing along the burn of your skin.
Your other hand hovers over your slicked cunt, fingers twitching to run across your folds and rub on your clit. But, your eyes flick open, remembering your very pretty vibrator. The one with five settings, and which usually only has to be switched to the third before you're squelching and soaking anything beneath you.
The finger rolling against your nipple slips away, hand reaching for the toy. The hand over your cunt finally lowers, your index finger sliding through the slippery slit. Your folds swallowing the finger hungrily as your slick stains between your thighs and the spot under you.
Breathing heavily through your nose, your finger starts to slide up slowly. Gliding from the warmth of clenching hole up to the throb of your clit, your arousal painting your pretty finger before you add a second.
You shudder, eyes shutting. Your digits rubbing feather like circles against your clit. Light whimpers bouncing off the walls as your thighs start to close around your wrist. Your body wanting to curl forward as you push down on the bundle of nerves a little harder, hoping to add the help of an electronic to bring you over the edge. Your other hand clumsily trying to get ahold of the toy that's just a finger tip away.
You force your thighs open, hooking one of your legs across the arm rest with your shorts. Your hand reaching for the toy, giving up. Hooking under your thigh — keeping your cunt on full display for your fingers to rub, flick, and pump into your soaked core.
A moan quietly rips from your throat, your chin curling into your chest as you get a look of your fingers. Lifting them away from your clit, watching as strings of your arousal coat them. You keep your eyes peeled open, watching as they sink between your folds, a long glide from where your clit is pulsating down to where you're gushing.
Worrying your lip between your teeth, your fingers digging into the soft skin of your under thigh — your toes curl when you fingers slowly press into your clenched cunt. The tips of your digits stretching your tight hole, the warmth curling around them as you start to push in. Slick rushing down to your knuckles and staining the couch with a damp spot.
"Oh," you squeal, fingers feeling your walls flutter around them. "If only I had a cock to fill me up," you say, eyes flicking from your cunt swallowing your digits and up at the ceiling. Your hips slowly grinding against your curled fingers.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Your heart beats against your chest, hand dropping from your leg scurrying to pull down your tank top. Your fingers brushing against your sensitive nipples, your cunt still clenching around your fingers.
BANG. BANG.
"One second," you yell, voice breathless. You pray that whoever is outside the door can't hear the whimpers you let out as your digits finally slip out of your cunt. Slicked stained fingers reaching for your shorts as you jump up, legs wobbly and shorts being rushed on.
Bare feet padding across the floor, you reach the handle of the door. Shaky hand wrapped the door knob as you forget just how disheveled you may look, the surprise of the knocks forcing you into overdrive. You feel your baby hair sticking to your temples, the back of your neck. Your thighs sticky with slick, chest still heaving where your plump tits stand taut and swollen. You won't be surprised if your face is flushed in some hue of pink, eyes glossed over.
You open the door, the cool air from the hallways wafting over you. Your nipples hardening once again through the thin material of your tank top. Outside your door stands two men — burly types, one towering over both you and the other. He stands there with pink hair, tattoos covering his tanned skin — crimson eyes immediately latching on to the way your tits bounce from the movement of swinging the door open. His seagreen uniform fits right, bunching at his pelvis. Next to him is a white haired man — tall, but lanky in comparison to his partner. The same color uniform a little too long on him, but still tight enough to show you the taut muscles of his thighs. His blue eyes racking over your bare legs, dropping from your clenched thighs down to your toes and slowly inching back up.
They both grin, as if they're in on joke that you're not aware of.
Fuck.
You forgot your apartment was sending plumbers today to fix that leak in your kitchen.
"Hi," you meekly whisper. Their hungry stares and curled up lips send a throb through your already slicked cunt. Your shorts clinging to the dampness coursing between your thighs.
You move to the side, inviting them in. Your own eyes landing on their bulges, mouth watering as you feel your arousal leak down the front of your shorts.
"We're here because of that," the one with the white hair steps in first, sunglasses perched in his hair. His eyes not leaving from your body even as his shoulders brush past to enter your home, "…leak." You hear the chuckle wrapped around his words.
"Just show us where the pipe needs to go," he continues, his partner following behind him. The warmth of the man tickling your chest as his thick arm brushes against your midsection.
He looks down at you, ruby irises flickering with a genuine interest causing warmth to pool the lining of your gut. He cocks his head, steps heavy and slow keeping his eyes locked on yours.
His partner has stepped full into your house, the tool box you seemed to look over catering on the marble of your counter.
"Sukuna," the pink haired mumbles. He looks away for a second, eyes tacked on his companion, "that's Gojo."
You nod, eyes narrowed on the way his adam's apple bobs in his throat and the tattoos stretch across his face so delicately.
He smirks, completely in your house following where Gojo is in your kitchen. His blue eyes roaming the open floor plan — hand braced on the counter as they bounce off the beams of your ceiling, following the walls to where your living room stands.
"So," Gojo starts again. You shut the front door, feet leading you to where the two men take up space in your kitchen. Your hip pressing into the hardness of your counter. "Wanna show us where that leak is coming from?"
You nod, feeling too hot to speak. Knowing your words will be mingled with slight gasps and honeyed moans. All you can do is shake your head in response and watch as their eyes continue to trail down your body.
Gojo chuckles to himself, walking around your island. Sukuna stays put, right by the cabinet of your sink — your legs brushing against his as you reach over to open it.
Your breath hitches, listening to Gojo's steps wandering into your living room. Breathing becoming a little harder as you look up at Sukuna, planting a smirk on your lips as you bend from your hips — ass high in the air, shorts molding around your puffy folds. Your fingers wrapped around the handles, opening up the under sink cabinet.
"It's he-," you are cut off, one of Sukuna's thick palms landing on your hip bone as he shuffles to stand behind you. His pelvis pressed against the fat of your ass, a moan almost ripping from your chest when you feel his hardness.
"Show me," he whispers, his head falling forward, making you feel the heat of his breath on your shoulder blade. "Is it a gentle drip? Or does it gush?"
You shudder under the weight of him pushing against you. Your head in the cabinet, fingers grasping into the metal pipe. "It gushes," you breath out.
Your ears are still trying to follow Gojo's footsteps, a snicker trailing the thud of his boots on the wood floors. "Sukuna," Gojo calls out, the man behind you pressing into you a little harder. A shaky breath falling for your lips. "Look at what was out for us to see," your eyes shoot open, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you remember.
Your fucking vibrator was on the couch. The one that your fingers couldn't reach for. The one that should be on your throbbing clit right now, your pussy flooding at the thought of just the first setting.
Sukuna's hands tighten around your hips as you push back, your cunt trying to cling on to his clothed girth. "Did we interrupt something, miss?"
You weakly moan, your ass starting to grind against him. "Maybe."
The room is filled with both their chuckles, deep and thick. You turn your head, getting a look of Sukuna's thick legs pressed into yours. Gojo's slender body coming from around the island, one of his lithe hands grabbing the tent in between his legs through the material of his uniform.
You can feel Sukuna turning his head, facing his partner. "Dispatcher didn't tell us that we would be dealing with two leaks," he gruffly says. His hand is firm on your hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh — his pelvis driving into you, making you feel his shaft along your clothed cunt. Your body trembling from the heat that's coursing through your pussy and staining in between your thighs.
It was quick. Your shorts thrown over the counter you're currently laying on, back flushed against the coolness of the marble. Your cunt glistening with heat as your thighs are spread wide. The two men hungrily staring at the mess between your legs. Tongues rolling over their bottom lips, their fingers gripping into your skin.
One of your legs is thrown over Gojo's shoulder. His arm wrapped around your thigh as he keeps your leg open wide enough to try to fit both men between you. Sukuna presses your other leg down, your knee squished against your tit as your foot lays flat on his hard abdomen.
"Show us exactly what the pipe was doing," Gojo grins down at you, his eyes flickering to his partner. Sukuna's eyes are stuck in between your thighs, lip tucked between his teeth.
Without warning, two thick digits glide down your folds. A long stripe down from your quivering clit to your clenched entrance. Your back arches, breath hitching in your throat as you watch through lidded eyes. Chin tucked to your chest, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Your hands grabbing at the fingers gripping your legs.
One of Gojo's hands start to roam on your chest, calloused palms roughly brushing against your hardened nipples. "Aren't you happy that we came just in time?" He asks, a smug smirk stretched on his face as he rolls one of your nipples between his pointer finger and thumb. The other hand grips deeper into your thigh, his fingers squeezing into the tender skin.
Your swallow a moan, your eyes bouncing from cerulean to crimson ones. A pale face to one sketched with tattoos. Your body folding into the heat of their bodies touching yours. Sukuna's fingers still slowly dragging along your labia — index and middle finger following the length of your lips and gathering slick whenever they meet at your entrance. Parting you wide enough that the cool air from the marble under you meets the heat of your sex. His fingers lubricated with enough of your juices that it feels like his digits belong against your cunt.
Sukuna's palm pushes your leg deeper, your knee presses against your beating chest. Your hips lifting in anticipation as his fingers start to drag a little harder, coming up and now pressing against your clit. Rough, slow, deliberate circles, each pass of his fingers feeling every twitch as you let out breathy moans. "I'll be happier if you two can fix my leak," you say, watching Sukuna's lips curl into a hungry grin.
A rough rub of your clit, your hips weakly lifting off the marble with the added weight of both men holding you down. Your pussy clenching as the pink haired one inches his fingers slowly to where you want him most, Gojo's hand is still groping at your perky tits. Teasing touches causing heat to roll in the bottom of your stomach, toes curling against Sukuna's chest and Gojo's broad shoulder.
"I think we have to ask," Gojo starts, his lips brushing chaste kisses against your calf. Sukuna's fingers gently circling your quivering entrance — the faux softness of their actions giving you a false sense of relaxation. "Did you remember we were coming?"
Before you can answer, shake your head no, a broken gasp leaves your lips. Eyes shutting as your hips buck up. Sukuna pushing not two, but three digits into your cunt — stretching you out until he's knuckle deep. Your hands rushing to grab onto something, whether it was his wrist or Gojo's hand still roaming your tits.
"Fuck," you croak out. Your legs spread open wider by the the two men in front of you. Your clenched sex swallowing Sukuna's fingers as he pumps them in and out, your hips angling higher as he curls whenever he's deep enough.
Your hands grabs at your own thighs, nails scratching at their hands holding you down. The sound of your pussy sloppily clamping down around every deep thrust, the pass of his fingers pressing just right making your thighs tremble and your mouth water. You hear the shuffle of the uniform and a click of a tongue. "Look at us," and you do, eyes slowly peeking opening. Sukuna's fingers still grinding against the warmth of you walls.
Next to his partner, Gojo hungrily takes in the sight of your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. You didn't notice the absence of his hands, not squeezing and pulling at your taut tits anymore, your mind so focused on the curl of thick fingers against your gummy walls. The obscene sounds of your moans and the sloshing of thick fingers pumping into you rings loud — louder than the shuffling of your pink vibrator being pulled out of Gojo's pocket.
"Show us how you were going to use this."
Your fingers twitching as Gojo slides the toy into one of your palms, you let out a strangled moan, "you- fuck." Gojo's creeping back to pull at your pebbled nipple again. Your hips lifting and pushing down on Sukuna's thrusting fingers even more. Your slick leaking down your thighs and the palm of his hand. "You two want me to show you a lot."
Sukuna chuckles, his fingers bucking into you faster, harder, "we're visual learners, baby." Digits dragging along the mold of your walls, your cunt clamping down every time they curl. A pressure is building right in the bottom of your gut, each rub of his knuckles gliding in and out of your sloshing pussy intensifying the feeling.
Stuttering moans roll from your swollen lips, your fingers weakly pressing the one switch, setting the vibrator to its first setting. You were well aware that you were close from just the depth of the salmon haired man's fingers.
"I'll help you," a laugh slips from Gojo, his hands trailing from your tits once more, wrapping around your wrist. His grip is hard enough to be demanding as he guides your hand to your your trembling clit. The vibrating toy pressing to your bundle of nerves ripping a scream from your throat. "There we go," he coaxes, deft hand keeping your wrist still as the toy shudders against you, "you still have to show us that gush."
A hot flush raises from the expanse of your pussy up to your ears, your toes curling and long strings of loud moans and cries ripping from your chest. Your thighs trembling under the press of their bodies as you watch them eye the way your cunt leaks down on to your counter.
Your walls seize around Sukuna's fingers, the thick digits still grinding against your walls, each thrust fucking into you deeper. Your clit is throbbing under you and Gojo's hand, the pulsating rubber toy sending waves knock out even louder scream crawling from your chest.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you yell out, hips trying to buck off the marble. Your legs wobbly as that burn in your gut blossoms right under Sukuna's curled fingers. And you feel it, your stomach tightening and walls clenching around his fingers even tighter. Clit throbbing as your head drives into the counter below you. "It's co-coming, fuck."
One more pump of his curled fingers, your pussy spasming around his fingers. A gush of liquid squirting out of your cunt, splashing against their blue uniforms and the tents in their pants. Slick leaking down your thighs, on his fingers, on the counter below you and even splashing on the floor near their boots.
Your moans are loud, breathy and harsh as you try to gather your breath. Vibrator still throbbing against your twitching clit making you see stars as your cunt flutters around Sukuna.
"Shit," Sukuna speaks lowly, deep. He pulls his fingers out, your pussy squelching around his knuckles sliding out. Chest heaving as you lift your head, eyes following every movement between your legs. You watch with baited breath, Sukuna bringing his slicked fingers up to the front of his face. "Looks like we have out work cut out for us," he chuckles and you feel it against your foot.
"Messy girl," he mumbles, tongue rolling over his bottom lip. Gojo watches with hungry eyes, his fingers digging into your thigh as he holds onto you like an anchor.
Gojo's hand drops from your wrist, grabbing Sukuna's tattooed one, bringing it closer to his own face. Pairs of eyes watching as his fingers glisten from your pussy. "Fuck," Gojo mutters, his grip tightening around Sukuna's wrist, "what a fucking mess." And despite Sukuna's furrowed brows, Gojo brings his fingers to his mouth. His lips wrapping around the thick digits as he bobs his head down, his cheeks hallowing around them, groaning as he swallows the taste of you.
Jittery fingers still hold on to the vibrating toy, tucking it into the side of your thigh as your body twitches from the aftershocks. Your foot that's been arched against Sukuna's chest slides down, settling softly on his girth. His eyes narrowing as they drop from Gojo's tongue lapping over his digits to where your foot is rubbing against his bulge.
"I wanna taste," you nod towards Gojo, his head pulling up with a pop as he removes his lips off of his associate's fingers. They stand thick, and wet with spit and your slick.
Gojo wastes no time, grabbing you from the tank top that's limp around your waist, pulling you further down the counter. Your legs dropping from their upper bodies as you lean up on your elbows. Watching them, watch you, through batted lashes and a flush inching up your face.
Blue eyes lean in, the heat of his breath fanning across your face as you feel his length press into your bare leg. He doesn't talk, just a smug grin and his index finger crawling up to tap you on your lips. Sukuna next to him watches quietly, wet fingers molding into your thigh.
You smile back, opening your mouth slightly. Gojo's hand weaving around your jaw as he forces you to open a little wider. A wad of warm spit hitting your tongue, your lips instantly closing as you let out a moan.
Before you can swallow, have the taste of your pussy wash down your throat — Sukuna pulls you up, hand wrapped around your neck as he leans in. Gojo is watching with a grin as he leans in as well. A clash of lips and tongues roll out as they meet in a kiss. Hands roaming down your chest, your soaked thighs. Your hands trailing down hard chests and even harder cocks. Teeth tugging on bottom lips, and tongues rolling against the warmth of another. Your hips grinding against the hardness of the counter, the vibrator falling to the ground as it slightly thumps against the tiles.
Sukuna pulls away first, eyes hooded and lustful. "This may be the best job we had all week."
Your knees are pressed into the cool tile of your kitchen. From the corner of your eye, the cabinet with your busted pipe stays open — no sign of any work happening to it. In front of of you, Sukuna stands kneeling — his cock freed out of the restraints of his uniform. You stare wide eyed and open mouthed at the thick length of his pretty dick — it stands long, hard and thick, a slight curve to the left and his bulbous tip dribbles with precum. One of his hands wraps around the base of his shaft, tufts of pinkish hair blooming from his fist.
Your eyes trail the protruding vein on the underside of his shaft, up to his chest still clad in that uniform, up to where he watches you with ruby irises and his tongue tucked into his cheek. "What a cock," you smile sweetly at him, pushing your hips back as you feel Gojo start to get comfortable between your legs. "Just what I asked for."
Behind you, Gojo's hands splay against your ass cheeks. Air rushing to the slick that's pooling at your cunt. "Was she tight?" he mumbles as you feel him shuffle, hips brushing against you as you feel the girth of his settling between your folds. Every inch of him pressed close, you can feel the drip of his precum as he slightly ruts against your core. His mushroom tip nudging between your puffy lips, as his hands firmly grip.
You let out a meek cry, you hips pushing back as you feel his hardness against your warmth. You want to throw your head back, give him a narrowed look and tell him to fuck you already — but your eyes on locked on the crimson ones in front of you, pussy dripping from the way his cock twitches near your wet lips.
"Can still feel her pussy gripping my fingers."
Your hands are laid flat on the floor, keeping yourself balanced between the two men. You lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock. Still staring at him through your lashes, his tongue still tucked in the inside of his cheek. The hand on his length moving up in a slightly jerking movement. You smile, placing another kiss, your swollen lips painted with the drip of his precum. Then, your tongue flattens against the underside of his cock feeling the pulse from his thick vein, earning you a sharp inhale from above.
"Damn," Sukuna groans, one of his hands reaching for the nape of your neck as you work your tongue along his shaft. He presses deep against the side of your neck, a gasp tumbling out your mouth before you move up. Your warm mouth wrapping around his leaking tip, sucking softly. Your tongue flicking his slit as his hips start to push forward. "Mouth is just as warm as your pussy."
With his hands still gripping your ass, you feel a wad of warm spit rolling down your ask crack to where you pussy leaks. "I'm about to feel just how warm it is myself," Gojo chuckles, your cunt clenching at the glob of spit rolling down to meet the slick staining his cock pressed against you.
You push back, you mouth still sucking on the tip of Sukuna's thick cock. You're not given any warning, just the stretch of your pussy as Gojo buries himself. Pushing you down, your mouth enveloping Sukuna's dick. Gojo's hands are still gripping your ass, spreading your cheeks far apart that you're sure he can see how your walls flutters around him when he pushes deeper into your slicked entrance. A groan ripping from his chest as he starts to pound into you.
The angle perfect, shaft thick and deep, slamming fast and rough. Your moans mumbled from the weight of Sukuna's cock on your tongue as you drool around him, tongue rolling around his tip whenever you pull back far enough to have it move from down your throat. Gojo's pelvis smacks into your tailbone, ass jiggling under his heavy grip. Each slam making you swallow more of Sukuna, pant a little heavier, arousal leaking down your thighs and onto his heavy balls clamping against your clit with every thrust.
"Lil' slut wanted her leak fixed," Sukuna grits out, the hand wrapped around the back of your neck holds your head in place. Gojo's thrusts doing all the work to push your warm mouth further down the thickness of his cock. "Looks like you'd be draining us instead." You look up with teary eyes, stomach twisting as you try to let out a strangled moan. Your mouth too stuffed with cock, your nose brushing against his hand that's still stroking along the area your mouth hasn't swallowed.
Your cunt clenches around the cock pumping into you. Gojo's hips snapping into you almost erratically, hard and punishing. "Fuck," he groans behind you, the hands gripping your ass move. One holding your hip tightly, the other one sliding softly against the underside of your ass. Fingers tickling as they tap along the bounce of your ass. "She's so fucking tight," one very rough buck of his hips sends your knees skidding slightly against the tile. Sukuna's cock hitting your gag reflex causing you to gurgle around his thickness. Drool dribbling from the sides of your mouth and spilling down your chin, chest, and his dick pressing against your tongue. "Think her asshole is just as tight?"
Your eyes shut, stomach rolling as you get stuffed from both holes. Your nipples hardening as you feel yourself gush around Gojo, creaming around the shaft of his cock as you swallow back the moans. Lips tautly wrapped around Sukuna, as his partner drills himself into you sloshing pussy — his thrusts becoming ever harder. You feel his free hand still roaming your ass, his fingers gliding down your wet crack. His spit acting as lubricant as his finger circles your clenching rim before stretching you open.
"Fuck, let me feel how she'd grip my cock," Sukuna's groans, one of his palms smacking the side of your face, the sting from his hand connecting on your skin as you moan around his length. Cheeks hallowing, spit pooling from your lips as Gojo's brutal thrust pushes you deeper, the tip of Sukuna's dick nudging at the back of your throat. He bucks his hips, the tears brimming at your lash line now falling as the new motion pushes you even further down his shaft. "Can you take two pipes at once?"
"I know a whore like her could," Gojo's hips slap against your ass. His hefty cock sliding along your walls as he pistons in and out — your cunt clenching around him as his balls slap against your clit every time he buries himself deeper into cunt. His hands curls into your hair and shoving you further down Sukuna's dick. The sounds of your slick sputtering around his cock and your throat gagging from the force of shaft lodged in your throat makes you almost cum, the burning feeling in your belly growing with each meet of skin on skin.
Then Gojo pulls out, a queef fluttering out of your slippery pussy. His hand in your hair pulling you off of Sukuna's dick, strings of saliva leaking down your chin and onto your tits. "Take us both," the man behind you demands arching your neck so that you staring right back at the man in front of you. His hand that was on your hip dips down, slapping your cunt causing you to shiver. "Let my partner feel just how tight that cunt is."
Gojo is below you, your back to him as you start to squat down. His hands holding your ass cheeks spread wide, as you lower yourself — asshole hovering over the thick tip of his cock. Your arms are behind you, hands flat on his chest as you slowly descend.
The pressures of his tip pressed against your clenched hole is different, new. Your cunt leaks at the thought of feeling it stretch you from behind, your hips dropping down a little quicker to finally feel him inside. With one hand on your hip, the other around the base of his cock — he helps guide you down. His cock pushing in as you drop with a long string of mewls and whimpers.
Your breath hitches as you feel himself bury into you, inch by inch. Your body falling forward as his length drives into your tight, fluttering hole. Your plush ass pressed against his pelvis as he bottoms out — both of you letting out strangled moans as your slick slips down to where his balls lay.
"Oh, f-fuck me," he blows out, long exhale steaming out of his nose as he gets used the tightness his cock is nestled in. Your eyes jump from between your legs to the quiet man standing just a few feet away. His eyes hungry following the way your tits raise with each baited breath, his hand wrapped around his cock as his thumb works over the slit. Sukuna using your spit to mix with his precum to keep his shaft slicked with wetness. "Lean back, baby," Gojo drags you from watching Sukuna's hand on his pretty cock, pale hands tapping your hips. "Show him just how wet you are."
You move your arms, bringing them around to hook under your thighs as you slowly lean back. The slow incline of your body making the stretch of Gojo's cock feel deeper, your head falling back on his shoulder with a breathy gasp. Your back flushed against his solid chest, your nails digging into the underside of your plush legs.
One of Gojo's hands snake around your jaw, holding your head still as he starts to pepper rough kisses down your sweat slicked skin. His hips slowly rolling up, burrowing his thick cock even deeper into your clenched asshole. The buck of his hips slow, but deep enough that you feel the throb of his tip with every inch your hole swallows.
"Jesus," you huff out, fingers biting into your legs. Head spinning from the press of his pelvis against your ass, his lips leaving burning kisses on your bare skin — your ears don't pick up on the heavy steps of Sukuna stalking over. You don't realize he has joined until you feel his own thick hands pressing into the fat of your legs. Your eyes flicking open to see him once again kneeling in front of you, his cock flushed against your folds as he lines himself up to your core. His tip brushing against your sensitive clit, making your hands almost fly off your legs and a yelp brush pass your lips.
"I don't think I could trust you," Sukuna starts muttering, his voice gravelly and wet. Gojo's hips are still slowly rolling into yours, your cunt dripping from the pleasure coursing through your body. "I'm going to hold your legs down myself." Sukuna continues, his large hands pressing into your thighs, pushing you down into Gojo's chest. The stretch of your thighs being held open wide burns, causing you to whimper.
"Sukuna," Gojo groans. His kisses becoming a little more rough, tongue rolling down the sweat that is drenching your body. "Fuck her before I cum."
You whimper something incoherent. Gojo's hips stopping their movements as his cock stays hard and deep within your ass. Sukuna looks down at you, all smug and lips curling into a grin. His dick pressing into your entrance, slowly stretching you out as your thighs start to spasm under his touch. Your slippery cunt clenching down as he fills you up inch by tortuous inch.
"Such a good girl taking us both," Sukuna chuckles before he pushes himself fully. Your honeyed walls rippling around his length as he starts to slowly gliding himself along your warmth. "All you needed was a new pipe and here you are taking fuckin' two," he drags his cock out slow — only to slam back in, deep and hard. sharper. crueler.
A moan gets stuck in your chest as his thumbs dig into you. His cock buried deep and he starts to pull out again, leaving only his throbbing tip swallowed by your clenched entrance. Your hands grab for his, nails digging into the tattoos wrapped around his wrist.
"Good thing," you pause, swallowing that knot in your throat. Gojo is letting out quiet groans, his hand hard around his jaw — keeping your head still to stare directly into the tattooed face of his partner. "I showed you guys that it gushes," Sukuna's lips curl and you feel his cock twitch at your entrance, his hips lightly bucking, pushing him in a little deeper. "So, you'd know what to do." You whisper, your pussy rushing with slickness as Sukuna's hips smacking into yours causes Gojo's cock to move as well.
His girth pushed in to the hilt, your cunt leaking down his shaft as his hips begin to grind. He pushes in deeper, making sure you feel every thick inch as your pussy pulses around him, soaking wet and overstimulated. Gojo below feeling the way your clenched hole spasms around him with every smack of his partner's strong hips into yours.
He continues to brutally rut into you, sweat dripping down the sides of his pink hair and onto his temples. The sounds of skin on skin on skin are loud and wet — your slopping core swallowing every inch that gets burrowed into your warmth.
Your moans are teetering on overdramatized screams, as you keep your eyes locked on the crimson ones above you. His balls smacking the plush on your ass with every singing thrust that he fucks into you, his grip on your thighs almost painful as you gush around his cock. Your slick warming up Gojo's dick that's grinding against the walls of your tight ass.
"I want to watch her when we cum."
You're tired, breathing hard as you stare up at the two men standing in front of you. One of your hands is playing with your tits, rolling and pulling at your hard nipples as you brush against them. Your other hand buried between your thighs as your thumb softly presses against your quivering clit, sliding side to side.
Their hands are wrapped around their cocks, wrists twisting as they jerk their slicked stained shafts towards you. Sukuna tugging his cock harshly, rolling his hand up and down, thumb stopping at his bulbous tip for a second to rub at his slit before he glides it back down his length. His chin is tucked into his chest, teeth biting into his bottom lip, eyes watching the way your thumb plays with your clit and the shock that it sends up your body. Making your tits bounce with the movement.
Gojo's head is thrown back, strong neck stained red as he beats his cock fast. Wrist moving up and down as his swollen, mushroom tip twitches from the need to explode. Balls taut below his shaft, swinging with each pass of his hand. "Fuck," he bites out. Feet shuffling closer as he angles the head of his cock go where your thumb and index finger is tugging on your left tit. One more jerk, and your chest is hit with the warmth of his seed. Warm, white strings of cum spilling down the valley of your breasts and onto your fingers. "Shit," he pants heavily, "perfect place to cum." He groans as his hand still ruts along his shaft, a gentle drip of cum still spilling out of his throbbing tip.
You rub your clit a little harder, short whimpers meeting the sounds of their groans and hands working against their cocks. You switch from watching Gojo's reddened neck and lithe fingers around his member to Sukuna. Crimson eyes watching the cum drip down to where your thumb is still rolling against your bundle of nerves, your back arching every time you rub a little too harshly.
"Come here," he hisses, his free hand grabbing your hair to bring your face closer to his thighs. "Going to bust on this pretty lil' face," he grumbles, his wrist twisting faster and harder. His cock twitching as you breath near the tip, the heat of his sex brushing against your flushed skin. "Going to bust right on this fucking fa-," he's cut off by the cum shooting from his dick right onto your face.
Your eyes shutting closed as you feel the thickness of his cum spill down from your eyebrow, past your lashes, and onto your flushed cheeks. You feel the air from his hand still jerking, cum continuing to rush down the side of your face.
"Fuck," he mumbles, the hand in your hair gripping a little tighter. Your eyes shooting open from the pain, only to be met with a smug grin and his cock still throbbing within eyesight. "Should we go fix that pipe for you now?"
"Cut."
The click of cameras turning off and bodies roaming around the set breaks into your heavy breathing. "Fuck, Kuna," eyes blinking away cum as you swallow down your final moans. You look up at him, eyes narrowed and slight annoyance wrapping around your shoulders. "I told you not near my lashes." He stays above you, grinning down as his fingers start to rub into the cum running down your cheek. Digits collecting enough of his thick seed, splaying it against your lips. Your tongue peeking out to taste the saltiness of his cum as you send him an eye roll.
Gojo's cum starts to dry on your tits, dripping slowly to where your knees press into the floor. You hear him step away. The swish of his uniform mingling with rush of the crew cleaning up behind you guys. "I knew you'd be good," he starts, his steps heavy as he walks towards the sink. "But, fuck. I don't think anyone has taken us both so well."
"He's not wrong," Sukuna mutters, fingers running along your bottom lip wanting to be let in. Your teeth nip at his fingers as you start to rub at the cum drying up on your chest.
The sound of the faucet rings into the little stare-off you're having with the burly man rubbing his cum into your skin, his cock still flushed and hard — ready to take you again at any moment. "You're annoying," you bat your lashes up at him, his grin growing.
"Shit," Gojo hisses, and everyone's head snaps to where he stands at the sink. Water sputtering out from the pipe, the open cabinet giving it the space to rush and pool at his feet. "I think you guys need to bring in real plumbers."
you might not be sweet...but these three have decided you'll be their treat tonight!
synopsis: attending a frat party for Halloween sounds fun...until all your flings show up when you're trying to seduce someone else!
pairing: frat!Gojo, guitarist!Geto, tutor!Nanami x f!Reader
content: mdni, SMUT SMUT SMUT!, foursome, costumes, reader sleeps around a LOT, rough sex, every hole filled, SO MUCH JEALOUSY, sukuna mentioned, drinking/smoking, casual sex, sleeping around, frat parties, making out, oral sex (m! receiving), unprotected piv sex, anal fingering + sex, being manhandled, creampies, possessive men, nanami is so done with all of them but this is gojo's best night ever lmfao, so much bickering, facial, FILTHY FILTHY STUFF!!
a/n: art is by @/thatsallitchief + divider by @/petalpxl !!
You might look an angel. But you weren't going to be acting like one tonight.
What better excuse was there than Halloween to dress up in as little as possible?
Wearing a flimsy white scrap of fabric that barely passed for a dress, a crooked halo delicately fixed on top of your hair as the tiny wings you strapped on fluttered with every step. Ignoring the stares sticking to glitter shimmering on your skin, reflecting the low streetlights as you stumbled out of your friend's car onto the front lawn of the nicest frat house. A warm buzz already burning underneath your chest from pre-gaming earlier, a tight ball of desire that was starting to pulse and grow fangs of its own as your heels sunk into the grass.
"So, who's the lucky guy tonight?" Yuki giggled, poking your halo back into place.
You'd been the lucky one lately.
Juggling three different men of all different flavors.
Satoru Gojo, the pretty playboy president of the frat club, had fingered you stupid in a dark closet during seven minutes in heaven last weekend. Nanami Kento, your cute history tutor let you give him a handjob in the library after class on Tuesday. And your personal favorite, resident guitarist in a local rock band, Suguru Geto, ate you out backstage after one of his shows just two days ago.
But none of them were more than pretty friends with prettier benefits. Just fun flings. Guys you filled your spare time with.
"Dunno," you lied, finger reaching up to brush over where your lip gloss was already smeared.
Your target tonight was simple: Ryomen Sukuna.
A guy who dealed pot and a few more illicit substances in the corner of frat parties, lips wrapped around a beer while he pocketed the cash he was slipped.
But you heard he had a really big dick - and honestly?
Size did matter.
Especially when the only thing you wanted to suck on tonight wasn't candy.
"Sure," Yuki giggled, looping her arm in yours to pull you out of the way when some drunk dickhead almost spilled his beer on you as he slurred an apology.
Maybe you should've taken it as a sign.
The universe trying to subtly say, 'Hey, this is a bad fucking idea, by the way.'
In your own defense, you never thought all three of them would be here.
Nanami never showed up to parties, like, period. Suguru was too cool for something like this, probably back in his dorm or at some bar with a cute girl in an equally exposing costume flirting for his attention. Satoru, well, you thought he might come, but you figured he'd be wasted by the time you made your appearance. Easy to slip past.
Except, it seemed someone was waiting for you.
Who apparently must have bribed one of your friends to find out what you were wearing tonight judging by the flimsy white fabric he had loosely fastened into a toga and the much bigger angel wings attached to his back, the only part of his costume that was actually store-bought. His halo was shiny and silver and made of what looked fucking tinfoil, standing out above his fluffy white hair and about to fall off at any second.
Satoru was standing by the front door, holding a huge candy bowl and proudly passing it to some frat initiate next to him the second he saw you.
"There's my girl," he happily purred, slinging an arm around your shoulder.
You rolled your eyes, shrugging him off with an exaggerated sigh. It wasn't that you really minded his flirting - but you didn't need everyone here to think you were his. Satoru's words carried weight, more than he actually realized.
"You wish," you teased, batting your lashes and pushing past him to walk through the cracked-open door. The music you could hear from the street was jarring inside, bass thumping loud enough you could feel it in your bones as Yuki slipped out to go greet someone else.
Satoru was harder to shake off.
"You know I do," he hummed, following close behind you, his own angel wings making everyone else skirt around him in a wide berth.
He plucked out one of your feathers feather with a light laugh, the one that always seemed to take up space in your head after you heard it. You swatted at his hand, but he was already holding it over your head like it was fucking mistletoe.
"C'mon, sweetheart," he hummed. "Just one kiss for your favorite guy?"
Currently, you would rank him like number four or maybe even five, but you bit your tongue. Didn't have it in you to correct him. Got up on your tip toes to press a begrudging kiss on the corner of his mouth instead.
"Happy?"
"For now," he grinned.
You let him tug you into the kitchen, listening to him ramble on about someone you wanted to meet later. You didn't ask how he was planning on introducing you - and honestly, you didn't want to know.
For a guy who could have any girl on campus, he seemed awfully inclined to tack on a label to something you were both better off leaving unnamed.
Why ruin a nice thing?
Turn sloppy make outs and occasional casual sex into anything that could be construed as serious?
People were shouting his name as you passed by, one of those wide grins creeping across his face as his halo nearly fell off with how much he kept swiveling his head to greet his friends and the other girls who wanted to fuck him.
They could have him tonight.
You casually replied back to whatever he was chatting to you about, nodding and keeping an eye out for a head of pink hair while he rummaged through the fridge and pulled out some drinks. One of his frat bothers came up, leaning in to ask about how many kegs they had as Satoru rolled his eyes.
You managed to slip away before he even finishing cracking open his hard lemonade. Glancing over your shoulder at the irritatingly cute way his nose scrunched up at the sour taste at his first sip.
There was some foreign uncomfortable pressure in your chest, squeezing all your organs as you snuck out - forcing yourself to set your mind back on your mission.
It only took five minutes to find him.
Sukuna was reclining on a couch in one of the back rooms, thick thighs spread and smoking a blunt while heavy music blasted in the background. He hadn't bothered with anything other than his typical lazy outfit, a long-sleeved shirt clinging to his chest, loose jeans ripped and torn.
His head tilted to the side, a tiny smirk curling up on his lips as you walked over, wobbling on your heels as you pretended to be just a smidge more drunk than you really were so you'd be able to get away with more. Have an excuse in case you got rejected, easily slotting yourself in the empty spot next to him as his eyes dragged over your costume.
"Can I help you?" He grunted, like he wasn't considering what his dick might look like between your tits.
You looked down at the roll still perched between his fingers and then up to his lips.
"We could help each other," you slyly suggested, letting the implication hang in the air and biting your bottom lip.
"Oh yeah?" He arched a brow, still feigning nonchalance, but you knew better.
You had him.
He patted his lap, and it was so easy to toss your legs over his. He didn't touch you yet - let you do the work of scooting closer while he held out his blunt.
All you needed to do was wrap your lips around it. Except you got caught in the act.
"If you wanted some weed, I would've bought it for you," someone dryly commented behind you, and your manicured fingers paused above the blunt before you could reach out and grab it.
Throwing a look over your shoulder, angel wings fluttering as your eyes locked onto your second problem of the evening.
Suguru was smiling at you, perched all pretty on another man's lap, but it was hollow. The way his lips curled up was more like a smirk, one that spelled out trouble. He'd chosen some cheesy priest costume this year, as if he wasn't hoping to be worshipped himself.
"I'm just looking for a little fun," you hummed, daring him to say something else.
Suguru wasn't like Satoru. They were sorta similar, in a funny way, although you weren't sure if they even knew each other. Carried the kind of gravity that sucked you in. Satoru's was light, airy, playful like you were just animals batting back-and-forth with each other. Suguru?
He was closer to a panther, watching you with those dark eyes, waiting to strike and get you underneath his paw.
"You think you'll find it here?" He challenged, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop your smile. He knew you wouldn't be able to resist the temptation of taking him up on whatever he was offering.
"You're the worst," you groaned, giving in before he could pick a fight and completely ruin your chance with Sukuna.
God, he knew how to derail your plans. With him though, you didn't really mind. Not when you could see if he was planning on putting those thick fingers to use for something other than strumming his stupid guitar.
You untangled yourself from Sukuna with a sigh, squeezing his thigh as you stood up. Suguru didn't step in how Satoru probably would have, waited for you to get close enough before one of his huge hands pressed down on the small of your back beneath your fake wings.
"Hey," Sukuna called out, and you barely concealed your own smirk when you looked back.
"Oh yeah?" You mimicked him. Tilting your head innocently, batting your lashes as cute as you could.
"I'll see you around."
You'd make sure of that.
Suguru stiffened, and you caught the way his mouth twitched before his thumb dug into your spine. He was pretty when he was jealous. The little pinch in his brows. The subtle clench of his jaw.
As if he didn't have his own fan club of sorority girls chasing after him.
He noticed you staring as he led you out of the room, squeezing in between passing people and up the stairs, his dark eyes swirling as they kept shifting down to see if you were still looking.
"What?" He asked, as if he didn't know.
"You're cute," you commented, shrugging a little bit.
"I thought I was the worst?" He teased, and you tried not to laugh.
Struggling to keep a straight face when his hand drifted lower, dancing over the curve of your ass right as he knocked twice on a door down the hall before pushing it open, peeking in first to make sure no one was inside.
And then he was dragging you to the bed, half-flopping down before pulling you on top of him. A hand on your ass, under your dress, possessive as you straddled him and got comfortable. A hint of annoyance still clinging to the corners of his mouth at the thought Sukuna got to have you on his lap first.
Even if he hadn't gotten a taste.
"What do you think you're doin' with a guy like that?" He asked, attempting to pull off your wings. For a guy who looked like he was ready to preach about heaven, you had a sinking feeling he wanted to drag you to hell with him.
"I don't know what I'm doing with a guy like you," you retorted, echoing him just to get a soft chuckle out. Dragging your finger down his chest, feeling for where his pants were underneath the dark tunic - and that thick bulge barely hidden, just waiting for your palm to press down.
"You want me to remind you?"
All it took was a smile for him to give up on plucking your wings to pull out his cock. It was one of the thicker ones you'd seen, a long vein pulsing all pretty along the side as pre-cum collected around his tip.
But before you could do anything with it, his hand was on your side, dragging you in for a kiss. Demanding, tongue on your teeth and hand in your hair, tethering you to him with soft kisses that didn't taste drunk.
Maybe a little hint of something sweet, but no nasty aftertaste of beer or alcohol clinging to him when he deepened it, sucking on your bottom lip like he'd die if he didn't.
His kisses ventured south - and it didn't take long for him to yank your tits free from your corset. Wrapping his mouth around one to suck hard, sharp canines grazing over your sensitive nipple while you whined his name.
Suguru was never sloppy, but he wasn't as precise as he usually was during your typical hookups. Dragging his tongue over the sore spots his teeth left, remarking the same places like he was just having fun.
Your chest was warm, pleasant heat drifting down to your core as you glanced around the room. It was dark, only the headlights of passing cars and the warm yellow lights street lamps bleeding through the window to illuminate the soft blue of the wrinkled comforter underneath you, dorky posters of characters you didn't know plastered on all the walls.
Suguru wasn't in a frat - but you guessed maybe it was his friend's room. You preferred not to hookup with a guy in their own bed. They got ideas of you being theirs.
But this wasn't a bad loophole.
"I don't like the idea of sharing you," Suguru confessed, his cock throbbing underneath you when your weight shifted down.
"Too bad," you teased, smirking as he barely stifled his own groan at the contact.
He might've made you eat those words - but the universe seemed to have something to say about it too.
The door swung open and someone too familiar stumbled in.
Your heart sank to your fucking ass. Staring at the open door, Satoru's hazy blue eyes sharpening fast the second they landed on you on top of someone else.
"Baby," he breathed. "I'm wounded."
Before you could say anything, Suguru was sitting up with an exaggerated scoff. Still holding you in place, but pulling you up against his chest to hide your breasts from Satoru. Oblivious that he had already seen them.
"How many times have I told you not to call me baby?" Suguru grinded his back molars, exhaling hard as his fingers sank deeper into your back. You blinked, trying to process what that meant before Satoru was rolling his eyes.
"I was talking to her," he huffed, pointing at you.
"You're sleeping with him?" Suguru fixed you in a hard frown, head snapping between the two of you like he couldn't conceive it.
"That's supposed to be my line," Satoru retorted, hands on his hip, moving a little to call attention to his wings like he was trying to show off the fact you were unfortunately matching him in front of Suguru.
"You guys, um, know each other?" You awkwardly asked, as if it wasn't obvious. Satoru snorted.
"Apparently not as well as you," Suguru muttered, more jealous than he started off as.
"Don't be mean to my princess," Satoru defensively said, and you both swiveled to stare blankly at him.
"I'm not-" You started, about to hold up your hand before he kept talking.
"Did you really ditch me for Suguru?" He whined, walking over casually, like he was ready to just fucking climb in bed with the two of you.
"No," you shook your head, avoiding the actual answer.
Suguru laughed though, and you shot him a glare to shut up. His dark eyes had narrowed though, amusement glittering in them as he leaned in.
"Seriously? You and that idiot?" Suguru chided, all low and a little sleazy, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.
"Hey," Satoru pouted, standing directly in front of you now, pulling your attention back to him with two firm fingers on your chin. "I can hear you too, y'know."
"I know," Suguru sharply replied. Daring him to do something, as he continued in a low drawl. "You've got terrible taste, pretty girl."
"Clearly if she wants you," Satoru scrunched his nose up again to argue.
"She wanted Sukuna earlier," Suguru ratted you out, and you felt the pulse of his cock, the bite to his voice that made it clear he was itching to claim you.
"What?" Satoru's perky voice dropped into something sharp enough to skewer your heart.
"Caught her on his lap," Suguru revealed, like he was letting him in on some juicy bit of gossip.
"Were you gonna fuck him on my sheets too?" He bluntly asked, pretty lips pushed together as he leaned in close enough for his nose to nudge against yours.
The tension was too thick to slice through, filling up your lungs when you sucked in a shaky breath. An even worse idea than your initial one starting to form as your eyes flicked between each man.
The only thing better than one hot guy was two, wasn't it?
"What are you guys gonna do about it?"
You felt Suguru's smirk against your throat before Satoru chuckled, surprisingly deep as he cupped your cheek.
"You really wanna find out?"
You were really in trouble now. Had fucked around and found out just how much your flings could take before they were finished.
Literally and figuratively and soon-to-be stuffed with proof of just how screwed with you.
But their hands were too nice to ever say no to. Their mouths latched all over your body, throwing jabs at each other while they pulled-and-pushed you between them. A blur of fingers and cocks and tongues, your angel wings and panties discarded somewhere on the floor so you could be stretched out on Suguru's thick digits. Scissoring you open just to replace it with his unfairly large dick, dragging it against his walls and bucking his hips up so you kept falling forward on his chest. Relying on him for support while Satoru painted your back and shoulders with hickies, his chest against your back so you were stuck between them.
And then Satoru straining to reach past you to pull out a bottle of lube, softly muttering that he could satisfy you more than either of them ever could - only earning a scoff from Suguru.
"How do, um, you guys know each other?" You stammered out the question, breathing heavily between each word, eyeing where Satoru had stationed himself behind you as he squeezed an intimidating amount on his palm, already rubbing some on his cock before his cold hand started drifting down your ass. Skimming over your other hole, previously unbreached before he slowly started pushing the tip of a finger in.
He hesitated, testing the waters to see if you wanted it before you nodded yes, as if anal was a fucking peace offering.
"We've been best friends since high school," Satoru easily replied, like this was a conversation you were having in class instead of while you were being fucked and fingered.
"D-do you guys do this, like, a lot?" You asked, eyes scrunching shut as Suguru's tip grinded against a sweet spot inside of you, your nails digging into his chest for purchase as Satoru continued his steady exploration of the other parts of you.
"Do you?" Suguru remarked, his next thrust accidentally forcing Satoru's fingers further in time with him, a pathetic little whine torn from the back of your throat as you clawed at him again.
Your lips were stuck in a permanent part, about to say no, but you couldn't find it in yourself to form a single coherent word as Satoru readjusted just enough to slot another finger in your ass, the searing stretch rewiring your brain until you could only think about how fucking full you felt.
It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but teetering on the brink of brain-breaking as he started to pump his fingers in and out, the weight of his chest starting to press down as he swirled them around just enough you could feel the thin barrier between him and Suguru straining to contain both of them. A new kind of intense you never experienced before, hyper aware of each and every movement and still lost in all of it.
"You think you can handle the real thing, baby?" Satoru tempted you, his mouth pressing a painfully soft kiss to your shoulder before his tongue licked a clean stripe up your neck. Making you shiver, seeking their warmth like a second skin.
"Mm, mhm," you mindlessly moaned, a tiny little whimper escaping when his fingers slid out and something even more enticing pressed against the base of your ass instead.
At least he wasn't as thick as Suguru was.
Unfortunately for you though?
He was longer.
The new stretch was brutal, but the lube and his fingers managed to loosen you up enough that the sting of his cock slowly sliding in was pleasurable instead of painful.
Suguru's mouth was back on yours, capturing you in reverent kisses while Satoru worshipped you from behind, slow strokes eventually picking up the pace, messy squelches and lewd moans drowned out by the party still thumping outside. Although if someone was standing on the other side of the wall, they might have heard the bed frame constantly knocking into it in time with their mean thrusts.
You were folded almost flat between them. Knees digging into the wrinkled blankets, thighs still spread wide as both their dicks dug in deeper. Drool probably leaking out of your lips before Suguru lapped it up.
"Am I not good enough for you?" Satoru huffed in your ear, teeth nipping at you while you were splayed in this position, buried in your ass while he nagged you about his feelings.
"I jus' don't w-want a boyfriend right now," you managed, slurring half your words when your lungs could barely get any air in them. Suguru's cock felt like it was fucking lodged in your throat, insides being rearranged by both of them.
"But if you did-"
And because your night wasn't messy enough, the door swung open for the second time tonight.
Your knight in cardboard armor had arrived.
And Nanami Kento was not happy at what he walked into.
His favorite tutoring student being sandwiched between morons number one and two. And maybe math wasn't your best subject either, but it wasn't hard to calculate that he didn't approve.
"Ken," you started, batting your lashes like both your holes weren't being filled. Like you could manage more than broken thinking and begging when you couldn't even breathe.
As if Satoru wasn't still halfway in your ass where he could see the filthy connection between your bodies.
"God, do not tell me that you've been hooking up with him too," Satoru whined. "He's the fucking frat treasurer."
Somehow, you missed that memo.
"Maybe?" You offered, both dicks inside you throbbing and pulsing as Suguru snickered. His own jealousy only overwritten by his amusement at Satoru being more jealous.
As if this was a competition he'd ever win by being nonchalant.
"Your presence was requested downstairs," Kento dryly said, his annoyed stare settling on Satoru, arms folding across his chest.
"Sorta busy, man," Satoru huffed, but your heart pulsed at the way Nanami started to turn.
"Unless you wanna join too?" You called out all airy and soft, watching his shoulders freeze.
"Are you suggesting I-?" He stopped himself, pushing the bridge of his glasses higher up on his nose while you stuck out your bottom lip.
"What? Are you scared?" Satoru eagerly joined in, ready to ragebait Nanami or call him a pussy for passing on yours.
"No," Kento scoffed, a faint hint of pink blooming underneath his cheeks.
"We could always see if Sukuna wants to join since you liked his attention so much," Suguru sarcastically added, that familiar edge in his honeyed hum, his cock grinding in deeper, kissing your cervix to make you whimper in front of the blond.
"This is a horrible idea," Kento muttered, and you were inclined to agree. But he just locked the door - throwing away his better judgment for the night.
The only thing all three of them seemed to agree on was their dislike for him. Or maybe just their want for you.
Kento stopped at the edge of the bed, as if touching it would mean he was just as bad as the rest of you. Your eyes hesitantly looked up to meet his, but instead of disgust waiting for you, it was just the faintest flicker of disappointment drowning in an amber sea of something much stronger.
Desire.
He knew he never had all of you. And he'd make due with what you could give him.
Right now? That meant your throat.
It was a little awkward at first, but then he was pulling his dick free too, one knee on the bed to position himself at the right height for where your face was. Although Suguru side-eyed the pale member, making sure it didn't get too close to him before your lips parted, tongue out and ready.
"Y'know," Satoru unhelpfully chimed in behind you. "It's bigger than I thought it'd be."
"Shut up," Kento hissed through gritted teeth before he stuck his dick in your mouth like he was trying to get you to stop talking instead.
But you took it, cheeks hollowing out as you sucked on him, barely keeping your own teeth from grazing him when your body was being tugged three different ways. His strong fingers tangling in your hair to pull you in, cock bobbing in the back of your throat. Suguru's hands on your side to hold you in place while he pumped you full. Satoru's full weight on your back keeping you pinned there for all of them to fuck.
"Your mouth's better than your hand," Kento slyly murmured, and Mr. Cool and Collected underneath you snapped, his dark brows furrowing together and throwing his competition a seething glare.
"How romantic," Suguru retorted, all snarky as you struggled to breathe through your nose.
You didn't think you'd ever done anything so filthy.
And you only wanted more, body trembling and shaking as you whined and whimpered for them. You could feel the sinful way you were squeezing down on Satoru and Suguru, the wall barely separating and holding both of them in as they dragged themselves in-and-out over and over again. All your sounds muffled by the girth of Kento pressed up against the roof of your mouth. You didn't even know whose name you would moan if you could.
Completely and utterly filled, their words going in one ear and out the other as you took their thrusts.
You had no idea who came first.
Maybe Satoru? Or Suguru? Both?
Overwhelmed by sudden warmth down between your thighs, deep groans as someone's fingers found your clit. You were pretty sure it was the former, judging by the sloppy little circles being rubbed over the sensitive bud. Messy massages, just as desperate and needy as you were as he moaned your name into your skin, his teeth sinking down on your shoulder as he worked you closer to a climax.
"Come on, sweetheart," he purred, pleading. "Cum for me, okay?"
You still didn't have the heart to tell him no.
With the pressure of his fingers, his arm wrapped around your waist to get better access, or maybe just from how full you were, the rubber band barely holding you together snapped hard and fast.
The noise it ripped from you sounded like some animal, all strangled and raw, the reverberations making Kento cum too, warm ropes of cum shot down your throat, nearly making you choke. The veins against your tongue throbbing briefly before he abruptly pulled out like your gag concerned him just for another thick spurt of it to suddenly coat your face.
Satoru's fingers were still underneath you, still rubbing you through it, Suguru's voice coaxing you and offering pretty praises while Kento cursed, pumping his cock as the last of it dripped out on your lips.
You felt like a puddle. Reduced down to something limp and boneless, collapsed on Suguru's chest while Nanami cleaned you up, grabbing a pair of boxers from the closest drawer after asking Satoru if it was actually fresh. Suguru was saying something to his friend too, but he was preoccupied pulling out of your sore ass, his fingers disappearing from your front as he shifted off of you. Someone was brushing your hair from your face, but your eyes were closed, lashes still fluttering as exhaustion set into your bones. Cum still leaking down your thighs, probably a mess soaking into Satoru's sheets, a mix of all of you.
Maybe you didn't get to fuck Sukuna. But surely this was better, wasn't it?
You could just try again next party.
other kinktober fics
a/n: feel kinda meh about how it turned out but hope you guys liked it <3
hide and seek starring landlord!Sukuna by @crude-saint
he ate my heart starring serial killer!Gojo by @sweethearticism
what do you fear? starring scarecrow!Gojo by @baepsays
overboard starring shark!Gojo by @iamsoclone
wrath starring slasher actor!Sukuna by @cupidstrace
handcuffs starring Toji by @leclercloveletters
mine to see starring invisible man!Gojo by @alygator77
the secrets of heaven and earth starring frankenstein!Gojo + frankenstein's monster!Sukuna by @its-luna-noel
trespasser starring kitsune!Geto by @bluukive
red sex starring pyramid head!Sukuna by @for-ests
camper turned monsterfucker? starring werewolf!Toji + vampire!Sukuna by @j3llyc4kes
dance with the devil starring incubus!Sukuna by @mimuju
brat taming starring dilf!Nanami by @eraserbread
i simply am not there starring american psycho!Sukuna by @getopied
bound starring incubus!Sukuna by @yenayaps
gentleman g and the sick lady starring ghost!Geto by @tonycries
s(cream) starring ghostface!Toji + ghostface!Sukuna by @madamechrissy
knew you'd come back starring leatherface!Sukuna by @heaveninruins
28 days later starring Sukuna by @sukunahs
scare actor frat!Sukuna by @spideyyeet
vampire!Gojo by @myselkie
no, i'm not a human starring neighbor!Toji + visitor!Choso by @besidesjustmyamour
stalked starring stalker!Geto + stalker!Gojo by @kamitv
run, rabbit, run starring serial killer!Sukuna by @motel6killer
curse!Gojo by @all-with-angel
give me everything starring Toji by @rainynightwrites
caught on camera starring Toji by @whimsic
no one as nasty as me starring Sukuna by @sytorusdoll
milking starring cow hybrid!Sukuna by @reignpage
roommate!Geto + roommate!Gojo by @satorusprincess
highway hypnosis starring stranger!Sukuna by @interlude-enternude
never turn your back on an enemy starring Geto by @swearimnevergivingup
spit roast starring Gojo + Geto starring by @satoruined
mirror games starring clown!Gojo by @gojodickbig
caution: please read all tags and content warnings before reading fics! also a ton of these incredibly talented authors have multiple kinktober fics or series that i couldn't fully include so i HIGHLY recommend checking them out more! my own kinktober mastlist can be found here :3
#synopsis. toji fushiguro is a quiet man, even when he was sent to prison for god knows what. but once he was released with no charges to his name, his first stop is to pay a familiar face a visit.
#tags. 18+ mdni, not proof read, afab! reader (uses of she/her), degradation, daddy kink, slapping, hair pulling, mentions of breeding, mentions of pregnancy, dubcon, choking, p/v penetration, blowjob, cunnilingus, no protection (use protection!!), themes of a stalker and being stalked (ish)
#count. 2.6k
working as a prison guard wasn't glamorous.
the days were long and filled with tedious work: routine checks with inmates who taunted or tried to hit on you, endless piles of paperwork when there were transfers or incident reports, and a gaze that never stopped watching you.
toji fushiguro's eyes were different from the rest. he was quiet, calculating—which seemed to be far more terrifying in comparison to the rowdy inmates. you never knew what he was thinking.
toji was a headache for the months he was there. not because he got into fights or tries to waste your time. no, he was observant—his eyes always following you, even when you didn't expect it to.
routine checks especially. from the moment you were in that cell all the way to when you left, his eyes would follow you. toji would drink you in—the way the slacks hugged your curves, the way you'd talk to him sternly.
by the end of the check, well, to say toji was hard would be an understatement.
weeks turn into months and nothing happens to toji. one random day, he's just...free. no trial, no investigation, no press. that was it. he was a free man. the other officers say he knew someone who knew someone who threatened that someone.
supposedly.
so, you don't think much of it when your night shift ends that day. nor when you feel a quiet rustle behind you as you walk home. after all, you live in a busy city—there's bound to be people going in the same direction as you, right?
then you see it, a figure smoking outside the entrance of the apartment complex. he's hard to miss—large, bulky, and brooding. you chew on your lip nervously, the outline familiar despite the lack of an orange jumpsuit.
you keep your hand near your baton by your belt, and for once you're glad that you haven't changed out of your uniform.
"hey, ma," toji greets you, as if it wasn't insane for an ex-inmate to follow one of the guards home.
"you followed me home?" you ask, clipped and tight. toji briefly looks at your coat, at the way it's obvious that you're gripping your baton. he almost laughs.
"no," he says, smirking. "jus' know where you live."
you freeze, glancing at the front door. it's too late at night to ask for help, the front desk was deserted. it wouldn't be a couple of hours until your cheap complex had someone out front.
"a second offense—"
"i wasn't convicted of anything, was i, sweetheart?" he takes a drag of his cigarette, raising an amused brow. "just wanted to make sure my favorite guard got home safe, 's all."
your eye twitches and really, you should be calling the nearest precinct. you should be waving your arms frantically, calling for help at the top of your lungs. toji could overpower you any day, his body was built to tower over normal folks.
but you don't. there's a hint of curiosity, what does he want? why did he pick you? in some deranged, sick way, you aren't deterred.
the kicker? toji knows this. he's seen it, in the way that the other guards mock you, the way they exclude you, the way they don't let you join their get togethers.
they're dicks, that's for sure and you—well, you've always tossed him an extra slice of bread during meal time.
and god, does toji play you like a fiddle.
"why don't you show me in, eh?" he asks with the arrogance of a man who knows you to well. who knows how this'll play out. "i'll play nice."
you blink once, twice. toji almost thinks you'll say no before he sees your arm shift from under your coat—and you've let go of your baton. when you open the door to the complex with a resident key, he bites back a smirk.
the elevator ride up to your place is tense, not for toji. no, he's relaxed, hands stuffed in his jeans that still fit him even when it was collected months ago after he first entered the prison. it's his first day out and he went to you.
in some sick way, it makes your heart flutter.
"you know," he says, watching the floors go up on the screen. "any other guard would've had their badge out by now and a gun to my head."
it's true. you're quiet. the elevator dings, signifying you've reached your designated floor.
"like you said," you murmur as you both exit the elevator. "you weren't convicted."
you walk down the corridor, toji letting out a low whistle as you both stop in front of you door.
"seems like a nice place," he says, eyeing the line of doors down the hall. it does, better than whatever flat he had before he went to prison. you let a non-committal hum, keys jingling as you let him in.
it's stupid, you think, that you're letting him into your apartment into your own private space, into a space that—quite frankly, no one will hear you if you scream and die a painful, murderous death.
but toji choose...you, right? he went to your place, waited for you outside your complex. surely, it's not to take advantage of you, right?
"cozy," toji comments, ducking slightly to enter the door. "they pay you well?"
"you'll riot if they don't?" you snort, removing your coat. something flickers behind toji's eyes. you try not to dwell on it.
"gotta change out of my uniform," you mumble, a little weakly.
"let me watch, ma," toji smirks, the way he did when he knew you were doing his routine checks. who always made sure he was hard when you pat him down.
"i can't—"
"why not?" he tilts his head. "ain't nobody stopping us."
"we can't just—"
"so many fucking rules with ya, jesus," he grumbles, making his way to you then working to remove your belt. it happens so fast, out of nowhere, that you gasp.
"toji—" you try pushing his hand away. the belt falls onto the floor, your baton making a clang against the wood.
"that's right, ma. say my name," he growls, pushing you to a nearby wall. you protest, hitting his chest. toji plants wet kisses onto your neck, rutting into you.
"toji, stop!" you try pushing him away. you try kicking his legs but it's no use—no use in trying to move this behemoth of a man.
"i saw the way you looked at me in that goddamn prision," he groans, taking a deep breath of your scent. he pushes himself closer, forcing your legs to wrap around him. you can feel how hard he is, grinding against your slacks.
"you know what a couple of months without sex does to a man like me, ma?" he whispers, voice husky and dark. you throw your head back, feeling just how needy he was.
"mhm, used to fuckin' stroke it to the thought of you, princess. i knew you heard me from my cell."
"what, no—no—"
"don't fuckin' pretend," his hold on your waist squeezing you tightly. "i know you did it for me. knew you wanted me as bad, knew you wanted me to fuck you—"
"toji—"
"just shut up and take me."
toji carries you to the kitchen counter, ripping your uniform. the buttons fly off, hitting various parts of your kitchen. you gasp, throwing your head back. toji smirks, holding you.
the ex-inmate pins you down with one hand, both your wrists fitting snugly in his hand.
"you like this, don't you?" he taunts, kissing the valley of your breasts. "fucking love that you're being controlled, that i'm bigger than you, huh? bet you love being at my mercy."
heat claws up your neck, you look away. he isn't wrong but you'd be damned if you admit it. toji lets out a dark chuckle, pulling back as he removes your slacks with one hand. you let out a soft whimper, a whine that tells him everything he needs to know.
"fuckin' watched you everyday, y'know that?" he groans, removing you from his hold. he slots himself between your legs, head just inches away from your dripping cunt. he lets out a low growl, taking a deep breath to just smell the scent of you.
"jerked off in my cell jus' hearin' you bark orders, thinkin' about how i could fucking tell you what to do, and i bet you'd listen, hm?" toji says softly.
"fuckin' hell, can you hear how wet she is for me? 's probably tired of waiting for me, probably wanted me in you—ain't that right, ma?"
he kisses your clit from over your underwear, your back arching as you feel his relentless tongue on you. your hands in his hair, tugging him closer.
"there we go," he moans. "always knew you fuckin' wanted me. she fuckin' wants me, don't she? wanted good dick, none of those limp dicks you had—"
you blush.
"that's right—heard you talkin' shit, talkin' how wet you get but no one just hits that fucking spot—"
"toji," you whine, clamping your legs around his head as he chuckles darkly.
"i know, princess. i know, jus' let me set you straight, yeah?" toji whispers, smirking as he stands. you whimper at the loss of his tongue on your folds before he starts unbuckling his belt.
you watch as he tugs the damned piece of fabric, his long, hard, cock springing free. he revels in the soft gasp you let out. toji knows he's impressive—he's hung like a horse, a long dick with an angry red tip covered in the sheen of pre-cum.
your mouth almost waters and he can tell.
"wanna taste, ma? before i split you open," he asks, but you both know it isn't a question. you're scrambling on the kitchen counter, you try to get off only for him to turn you over.
your back is against the cool material, but your world is turned upside down as he makes sure your head is on the edge of the counter and fucks your mouth.
"that's it," he grunts, hand on your throat as he watches it bulge. "let me fuck your mouth, ma. let me use you."
toji's thrusts don't start slow, he isn't a patient man. he fucks you with a fervor no other man has matched, soft gags fill the room as you slobber all over his dick.
"bet this is all you need," he whispers, groaning as he feels your throat struggle to accommodate him. "jus' some good dick, huh?"
you gurgle a response, a dark laugh escaping his lips. he keeps thrusting, throwing his head back. it feels good. after beating his cock, a warm throat feels like heaven.
you watch him through your glassy gaze, eyes watery with want as your fingers play with your clit. you moan around his cock. toji smirks, amused.
"fuckin' needy already, ain't ya?" he asks, removing his cock from your throat. before you can complain, he sits you up and carries you down from the counter only to bend you over.
toji doesn't wait, he's waited long enough. ever since he first laid eyes on you, he restrained himself. now? oh, there's nothing stopping him now.
he pushes his hard cock past you, the tip bullying it's way into your tight cunt. he groans.
"toji, wait—"
"shut up," he grunts, pushing his way in deeper. "want ya to call me daddy."
"what—"
"just fuckin' call me daddy, you whore."
"i—i—" another thrust. "oh, daddy!"
"there we go, good girl," he moans. toji feels your gummy walls tighten around his cock when he praises you. "good job, baby, takin' daddy so well."
you whimper, gripping the counter as he continues thrusting into you. soft moans escape your lips as he pushes inch after inch until he bottoms out, only for him to pull out and thrust himself back into you.
"daddy!" you moan, earning a grunt from him as he slaps your ass. he watches the fat jiggle, letting out another low groan. he fucks you slowly for a couple of strokes, to tease or for mercy, you weren't sure.
but you couldn't dwell on it for too long, not when he starts picking up the pace. you gasp, gripping the counter as he keeps his hands on your waist.
"there we fuckin' go, there's that juicy pussy screamin' for me," he moans, watching as your back arches. god, you were a sight for sore eyes. he can hardly believe you choose to be an officer in that goddamn prison.
no, from now on, he was going to keep you. you were going to be his, going to be toji's. there was no stopping it. he wouldn't let anyone else have you.
you start moaning incoherently, cunt clenching as he plows into you over and over again. he's too big that there isn't a part of your pussy untouched by his cock.
"there we go, fuckin' you stupid," he moans, tugging on your hair. you gasp, your back to his hard chest. "you goin' me be good for me, won't you, princess? gonna let daddy own you, won't cha?"
you nod stupidly, dumbly. whatever resistance you had earlier, whatever hesitation you exhibited was gone. toji's successfully fucked you into a blissed out mess.
perfect.
toji speeds up his pace,one hand in your hair and another groping the perfect tits you'd so kindly given him access to.
"gonna cum?" he whispers, and you nod—which only earns a slap on the ass from him. "answer me. use your words, princess."
"gonna cum, daddy! gonna make a mess!"
"that's it," he groans, planting soft kisses on your neck. this is exactly how he wanted you, he tugs on your tits. "gonna fill these with milk, won't we? gotta fill these with milk."
"what—"
"don't worry about it," toji groans. "don't worry about it, princess. daddy'll get you nice and pregnant, yeah? gonna breed you and you ain't gonna have to think about anythin' anymore. jus' gonna let me take care you ya, won't ya?"
"i—i—" you try to protest, you want to. a baby? in you? from an ex-inmate? it's unthinkable. but you can't speak, not when he's fucking you so well. not when he's tugging on your tits and leaving hickies all over your neck.
"jus' don't think," he whispers, his breathing growing ragged. oh, he can already imagine it. you, round with his baby. he'll help you when your tits are heavy with milk, he'll make sure his seed takes over and over again. "jus' let daddy breed ya, baby. let me make you a mommy."
you don't say anything. you can't, not when you finally feel the coil in your stomach snap. your toes curl, body spasming—and you see a flash of white that convinces you that you've seen heaven. toji is quick to follow, thrusting himself deep into you so that he's sure that you'll get pregnant.
and if you aren't? well, you've so kindly invited him into your home that he's sure he'll have the whole night to try.
"did you hear?" satoru asks suguru. it'd been a slow night, the prison hasn't had a commotion since toji left. or they hoped so, considering that they were the ones on the night shift now.
"hm?" suguru asks, taking a sip of his coffee as he looks up at satoru.
"that weird guard quit," satoru shrugs, taking the seat beside him. they were in one of the watch towers. "apparently, got pregnant."
"huh," suguru says thoughtfully, nodding. "well, there really is someone out there for everyone. congrats to her."
a/n: this was so much fun to write guys....toji my nasty nasty man <3
ⓒ prettyboytsum 2025. all works are posted under this account on tumblr.com and are protected by copyright laws. do not plagiarise, repost, or retranslate these works on any other platform or account.
Synopsis . Car breaking down and lost in the middle of nowhere with an axe wielding maniac on the loose? No fun. Good thing a sweet, kind lumberjack offers to put you up for the night. He's beefy, brawny, and such a gentleman. You'll be safe with Nanami, won't you? (based off of a nonnie req)
Pairing . lumberjack!nanami x slightly bimbo!reader / Content . afab!reader, fear play, getting chased through the woods, exhibitionism, a hint of pervy!reader but hes highkey into it, choking, spanking, nipple play, the ripping of clothing, dirty talk, lots of pussy slapping, he puts you in a headlock, slight size kink, lots of teasing, flirting, thigh fucking, rough sex, a hint of fluff if you squint, nanami's a sweetheart at first then he’s absolutely feral, pet names, etc . / wc . 9.4k
A/N: Disclaimer: Please do NOT do anything the reader does in this fic, irl, LMAOOO. All events are for story purposes only, pls stay safe out there! Banner from "Hachisuka's Family Kotoribako" (Kinktober Masterlist.) [MDNI]
Most people think at least once or twice before following a complete stranger off to their home, especially out in the middle of the woods.
You? You don’t even entertain the thought of danger when the tall hunk of a man that is Nanami Kento offers you a place to stay for the night. He was just being nice, you’d told yourself. Anyone would provide something like that after finding you stranded with your car all broken down!
Does that explain why you don’t bat an eye at the red-stained axe propped outside his front porch upon arrival? Or the newspaper sitting on his coffee table that quite literally mentioned an axe-wielding maniac on the loose? Or the fact that he fit the description of said maniac to the tee?
Nope.
And is that why you end up running through the woods the following morning in hopes of finding your vehicle before he finds you?
Well, yes.
————
It was late in the afternoon when Nanami found you.
At first glance, he immediately knew you were a bit of a ditz. No woman with good sense had any business bending over into the hood of her vehicle—trying to figure out what was wrong with it—in the middle of the goddamn forest like that.
The road he spotted you on was one of those back roads that was tucked deep off into the forest. People typically only came out here for one of three things.
One—the most common—to avoid traffic. Two, to get to the woodland resort that was just a few miles out from there. And three, they happened to be locals with cabins tucked off in all different corners of the surrounding forest.
You did not appear to be any of the three.
You were scouring around the open hood of your car and Nanami's first sight of you consisted of the loveliest view of your ass. Bent over all oblivious to his greedy eyes, his first honest impression of you is that you didn't exactly have the best spatial awareness… if any at all.
Leaves crunched between the heavy soles of his boots as he approached you and your car, and it almost worried him how painfully unaware you were. "Miss?" Nanami called out to you, amused by the way you yelped in surprise and nearly hit your head trying to pull yourself away from the open hood.
Your head angles back and as soon as the two of you made eye contact, he should’ve put you on his kill list.
Why? Because he’s so ridiculously bound to be a gentleman the moment he meets those pretty eyes of yours and he knows it. You looked all startled by him, yet still had the nerve to size him up and down completely unashamed.
Nanami was a tall, brawny man whose body was just begging to be freed from the fabric of all his too-tight clothing.
He had on one of those signature red and black flannels, but its cloth did little to conceal the muscles that bulged beneath. The center of his shirt was unbuttoned just enough for you to get a peek of his toned chest, all beefy and just… broad with light tuffs of blond hair decorating the exposed skin. His sleeves were bundled up at his forearms, and adorning his hips were a pair of tanned slacks and a thick brown belt.
Phew, you couldn’t stop ogling him at first and nearly forgot to warrant him with a response. Forcing your eyes back up to his stoic, yet kind expression, you flash a sweet smile, “Sir?”
His voice leaves him all honeyed and husky in a way that has you stepping away from your car and your spine stiffening a little. “You look like you could use some help there,” He points out obviously with a slight tip of his head toward your currently dysfunctional vehicle.
The sun was rapidly making its descent and this really wasn’t the place for you to be having car trouble. Nanami considers you rather lucky he ran into you and not anyone else—this area was anything but safe for a woman such as yourself.
“I could actually!” You chime with this bubbliness that makes him thankful that he’s the one to have found you again. “My car just gave out on me all of a sudden and I’m really not sure why,” You go on to explain but, he’s hardly focused on what’s coming out of your mouth.
He’s much too busy staring at the way words leave your lips and that glistening gloss you’ve got coating them right now. Nanami swears to himself he’s usually not this easily distracted but something about you was making his brain wire itself a little differently.
Eventually, while you’re still rambling about how you were trying to make your way back to the highway and seemed to take a wrong turn onto this creepy back road, Nanami merely cocks his head to the side and looks down to spot what’s causing you all this trouble.
Yapping his ear off with not a clue in the world, “...And then I almost hit a deer a few miles back, which scared the shit out of–”
“Sweetheart,” He cuts off gently with a small grin on his face, fawn brown eyes flocking up to your expression slowly, “You’ve got a flat tire.” He tells you as he lazily lifts a hand to point at your front left tire that, surely enough, is flattened beyond belief.
“Ohhhh,” You chime with a roll of your eyes, “Y’know, that makes a lot more sense. I didn’t even look down there.” You’re turning around to inspect the tire now, noticing that it seems as though you’d run over something sharp, “Huh. There’s a big hole in it and everything…”
Nanami fights the urge to chuckle as he makes his way over to you and leans down to inspect the flattened tire alongside you. “...You didn’t hear or feel anything when your car ‘gave out’ on you?” He asks carefully, raising a brow your way.
You go to shaking your head, “No, not at all! Whatever it is I ran over, I must’ve done so a while ago because I’d been driving just fine for quite some time prior to me pulling over here..”
He waves off your words and then leans back up with a smooth click of his tongue, “Ah, I see. You have a spare, right?”
“A spare tire?” You repeat thoughtlessly before looking off in embarrassment as he nods. “About that…”
And while you start giving him a million and one reasons as to why you’re traveling alone in the woods with no emergency spare tire or any means of protection, Nanami finds himself all the more concerned for your safety. The conversation mostly consists of him trying not to give you judgy eyes, but it’s a bit difficult when you were by far the most carefree person he’d ever met.
Thus leading him to glance off and notice how dark it’s getting, “Listen, as much as I would love to sit here and listen to your uh… adventures, the sun is setting and I don’t feel too comfortable leaving you all alone here like this.”
You blink once-, twice as you quickly realize he has a point. Your gaze travels to the area surrounding the two of you, and it only then dawns on you that this man kinda just appeared out of nowhere, since he didn’t seem to have a car of his own anywhere nearby. There’s nothing but tall, leafless trees and a steadily darkening forest around the two of you.
Hell, even you weren’t going to be too comfortable sitting in your car until sunrise…
“I have a spare tire you could borrow back at my cabin,” Nanami offers all of a sudden, gesturing back into the presumed direction of his place. “Though, I can’t help you while it’s dark out and uh,” He pauses to look at you up and down, fighting his smile once again. “I doubt you’d want to follow a stranger like me off into the–”
“Okay,” You cut off suddenly enough to leave him surprised. You didn’t care too much that he was a stranger, and although you definitely showed signs of not being able to defend yourself whatsoever, you had the means to do so if it really came down to that—especially now that he’d shown he’s fallen for that rather misleading ditzy persona of yours.
Truth be told, you did have a spare tire in your trunk. You weren’t that careless.
But you also didn’t want to sleep in your car tonight, especially not alone in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. Nanami seemed kind enough, despite emerging from the woods just to offer you some help and being a complete stranger to you…
But hey, at least he was a hot stranger, right?
————
And that’s exactly how you end up following him into the woods toward that ‘cabin’ of his. He’d given you his name—first and last—but you were rather insistent on being polite and calling him by the last. The walk to his place took about fifteen minutes, which left you relieved because that meant your car wasn’t too far away.
It also explained how he found you, considering he’s not too distant. Nanami was also very open and talkative during that walk of yours and explained that he used to be a businessman but decided he needed a slice of quiet and tucked off into the forest a few years ago to be a lumberjack. Which explained that physique of his.
Fallen leaves crumpled and crunched beneath both of your feet as you two walked the dirt path toward his place and upon arrival, the very first thing you noticed was an old red axe lodged neatly into a piece of wood on his front porch as he guided you up.
Nanami was in the midst of telling you some of his woodland adventures—as if to reciprocate what you’d told him about your road trip so far—before you stopped and stared rather openly at the tool.
He was opening his front door for you before he noticed where your eyes had landed, and he offered you a gentlemanly smile, “That’s my little money maker right there.” He says to hopefully make up for any awkwardness.
You nod, “Yeah?” and he starts telling you about his axe and how he’s had it for years and years, yet all you could focus on was the dried red sitting at the blade’s edges—a shade of which did not match the red paint of the tool and was also located where a silver color sat beneath. Huh, interesting, you’d thought.
And when Nanami made an effort to explain how some bears and other wild animals frequent this forest quite often, you figure that’s where the blood came from.
Not that he ever explicitly confirms that, though.
As he resumes his talk of what it’s like to be a lumberjack, he kindly walks you into his home—holding the door open and letting you enter first—before offering you a short tour. It was clear he wanted to make you nice and comfortable, considering he was still a stranger to you.
You agreed to the tour and made sure to take in every detail of his home just in case anything were to happen. You’d check your phone every time his eyes left you, making sure it was nicely charged and that you had some sort of service.
Thankfully, this wasn’t one of those horror-type plots, so you were actually perfect in terms of service. Y’know, after he offered and then gave you his cabin’s wifi…
He then showed you around that spotless kitchen and living room of his, in which you just so happened to notice a news article sitting on the coffee table while he told you the nearest town was at least a mile away and filled with unfriendly locals.
You ended up plucking the article from its spot to skim over it curiously as he spoke and told you stories of his bad experience with the people of the town.
Lots of missing person reports were in that article, along with a story about an axe-wielding maniac who was suspected to be the cause of said missing people. Nanami watched you read and send him a few skeptical glances, but considering how you didn’t say anything, he figured you didn’t suspect him.
He’s not the only lumberjack around, after all. That maniac could’ve been anyone.
As the tour soon concluded, Nanami showed you to a guest bedroom to sleep in for the night. The bathroom—along with his bedroom—was just down the hall and he told you not to be too shy to ask him for anything.
See? Simple.
Surely if he were crazy and wanted to kill you, he would’ve shown signs by now or made some attempt at doing so. Instead, Nanami did nothing but be a handsome host for you and even invited you into his living room to sit down and eat dinner with him.
Outside of being a sexy lumberjack, Nanami was also a fine cook.
You’re now sitting on the comforting stretch of his leather couch, a half-eaten warm plate of food in hand, and a steady draft of warmth that stems from the fireplace he’s so kindly lit for you. The cabin’s air was coated in thick scents of cedar and that homey-smoke, everything around you oh-so-meticulously placed. You distantly considered in your mind how everything was a bit too clean for a man who lived so far from town.
Shrugging it off, you were quick to remind yourself that this was okay. He was okay, despite that little article you kept taking a peek at…
There's a subtle, quiet movement somewhere behind you before Nanami comes into view and sets a softly steaming mug on the coffee table in front of you, “This isn’t too much for you, is it?” He asks, voice smooth, velvety even.
You glance up at him and find yourself admiring the way the warm light from the nearby flames catches against his chiseled face. A man like this really had no business being single and alone like this, he was visibly perfect. “This is just fine, thank you.” You manage as you set your plate down and then bring the warm mug into your cooler palms.
Nanami breaks out a smile, that gentle and polite one he’s sent your way one too many times since he’d run into you. It was the kind of expression that made your heart feel warm and safe. Catching something in your gaze, he lets off a slight sigh as he sits himself down in the nearby armchair, “You’re lucky, y’know.” He hums, large frame easing into his seat as he speaks. “This area isn’t exactly the safest for ‘outsiders’.”
Between your careful sips on the warm cocoa he’d made you—that’s oddly crafted to utter flawlessness—you look off in thought before chiming, “Outsiders? Is that what those locals that don’t like you call people like me?”
He never seems to let his gaze stray away from you, “Oh, they call me that too. That’s how I know it’s not too safe out here. I can only imagine what would’ve happened if one of them found you and not me.”
You chuckle, “So, those missing person reports…” You begin, gesturing toward the stack of articles, “You think the townsfolk made those stories up and pinned them on…” The word ‘you’ rested on the tip of your tongue but, you quickly swallowed it down. “One of the lumberjacks out here to mislead people?”
“And keep people scared, yes,” Nanami answers promptly. “It is October after all. If you look at the dates on all those reports, they’re rather recent. I feel as though it’s a seasonal thing they do for the spirit of this spooky month.”
A town of people who make up missing person reports for the month of Halloween? How peculiar. You’d never heard anything quite like that. You shrug it off, though. There’s a town of oddities everywhere, right? This was no different.
As the small talk dissipates, the fire’s low crackles swallow up the atmosphere and it felt as though time were slowing down. You’d never felt so… at ease around a complete stranger like this before. Nanami’s just as quiet as you are now, as if to let both of your thoughts mingle about and carry through the silence.
The wind outside seems to be picking up a bit, lightly clashing against the large cabin windows as you two sit and enjoy one another’s presence. You sip on your seasonal beverage until the mug is light in your hand, your taste buds satisfied, and your stomach full—two things that completely contrast how you thought you’d end up spending your night just a few hours ago.
Before you bid Nanami goodnight and head off to the guest bedroom, you sit there and start taking in the details of his home again. You were growing increasingly aware of how unnervingly faultless everything was. Tucked into a corner was a tall bookshelf lined with literature of all sorts, the spines aligned and rather dustless.
Even the fireplace a few feet in front of you was gorgeously untouched and yet polished. The neatness of Nanami’s cabin was feeling less and less like mere tidiness and more like some sort of strange control.
But hey, perhaps you were looking too deeply into everything. He’s just a very particular man. Nothing weird about that, right?
When the two of you finally parted ways for the night, Nanami took your dishes off into his kitchen and wished you a good night. Aside from the easing running of water as he washed your plate and mug, the only sounds to travel throughout his cabin now were your footsteps toward your room for the night.
By the time you entered said room, you’d come to the same reasoning that—just because the description in the article you read, and even talked about, earlier said the suspect was a six-foot-tall blond man with brown eyes—Nanami was in no way the killer.
————
With the night carrying on ever-so-smoothly without a hitch, you actually end up finding yourself unable to sleep.
The moonlight acts as the only sort of illumination all throughout the man’s house, and you quickly realize that once you slip out of the guest bedroom and tiptoe down the hall towards the bathroom. You weren’t quite sure what was keeping you up, but you hoped using the bathroom would help you figure it out.
That, and you used your trip to the bathroom as an excuse to explore the cabin a little more on your own. It was quite cozy all around and the wood hardly creaked beneath your light steps whilst you paced about. Considering only one, unmarried man lives out here alone… you really couldn’t help the impending suspicion that continued to rise within you as you explored his house.
Nothing was out of place and half of the furniture seemed as though it was rarely touched, if even at all.
As you stop by the kitchen for a glass of water, the cleanliness of Nanami’s cabin seems to stand out even more. Every glass within the cabinets was so perfectly placed that it was nearly uncanny. No dust sat on anything, not even the glasses in the very back.
You shrug it off. Maybe you were being too anal about things again.
Or at least, that’s what you thought before you began to notice other peculiarities as you sipped your fresh glass of water. Everything was painfully squeaky clean.
The large windows that decorated the majority of the cabin’s walls? So spotless the moonlight was elegantly pouring in onto the almost reflective wooden floors. The counters? Also spotless. Every cabin and handle? Guess what? Spotless.
There was a very faint scent of recently used cleaning products so, in your head, you deduced that Nanami was some sort of clean freak.
Once you finish up with your water and finally make that trip to the bathroom, you’ve still got all these questions raging war in your mind.
Say he was that axe-wielding maniac from the article… Did he really kidnap and murder all those people? Did he have a reason for it? Was it because of the town’s unfriendliness? Were you his next victim..?
No, no, Nanami had been way too nice and open with you for any of those things to be true. Plus, he told you the townsfolk probably made those articles up for the Halloween spirit.
Yeah, that reality’s a lot easier for you to digest.
But if you’re being fully honest with yourself… as long as he doesn’t plan to kill you, you don’t think you mind the alternative and more likely reality of him being the killer. At least he was hot, right?
And he was nice to you.
That’s a lot better than you could say about the guys you’ve dealt with back home.
You’re washing and drying your hands now, hoping to return to bed and make a second attempt at sleep. The man was kind enough to let you stay the night, and here you were mentally accusing him of being a murderer when he hadn’t even done anything–
As soon as you walk out of the bathroom, you walk face-first into something that feels like a brick wall, hands shooting up to brace yourself, and a soft huff exiting your throat. When you look up, you’re met with your host’s slightly surprised expression.
His sturdy hands are on your arms, holding you after you’d so carelessly walked into him—even though he was standing right in front of the bathroom door and didn’t really give you room to do anything else…
“Ah, sorry, Nanami,” You chime softly, voice filling the quiet of the stiff hallway surrounding the two of you, “Wasn’t expecting to run into you like this.”
His gaze is delicate as it sets down on you, “You’re quite alright, darling.” Nanami voices attentively before his head weighs to the side, “Was this just a trip to the bathroom, or could you not sleep as well?”
You grin, “I’d say a bit of both, but mainly the first thing. I’m gonna try to get some rest now, though.” Your explanation comes out rather quickly, and you’re unintentionally awkward as you break yourself away from his light grasp, turning elsewhere. “Night, Nanami.”
“Goodnight,” He replies with a slight smile on his face.
He turns to the bathroom ahead but finds himself pausing to watch you walk down the hall. Your footsteps are careful, he notices. Though he’s not sure why that sticks out to him. He had no intentions of…
Shaking the unfinished thought away, the blond clears his throat, “Actually, wait. Before you go,” You stop promptly—almost as if hoping for him to say something—and then swivel around at the sound of his voice, catching his eyes under the dim lighting from the rather full moon outside. “I’m curious.”
A brow of yours shoots up, “About?”
Nanami’s eyes are calculated on your slightly distanced frame, wonder swirling within his pupils. You were just as much a stranger to him as he was to you and yet, here you stood in his home hours past midnight… wearing a shirt he lent you to sleep in, no less.
You had to lack shame. There was no other explanation for it. Why else would a woman do the things you were doing like this? It’s like you wanted to make his hobby easy for him…
With the left corner of his lips twitching as he fights off a knowing smirk, Nanami’s voice smoothes into the air all honeyed and low, “Do you follow strange men into their homes like this often?” He asks.
You merely snort, “You’re not strange.”
As if that answered his question…
“You don’t know that,” He warns carefully, foot shifting on the floor to angle his body so that he’s facing you. You still stood a few feet away from him, a distance in which he was fine with.
…For now.
“You’re right, I don’t,” You soon agree, to which his brows shoot up in surprise. “But, no, I don’t do this often.” Your answer makes him sigh in relief. It was good to hear that you weren’t always this careless.
Nanami’s hands slip into the pockets of his sweatpants. He wasn’t wearing much more than you—a simple white tee and some grey sweats, his usual nightwear—and yet he still caught the way you were drinking him up, as if the lack of bright lighting was supposed to conceal the way your eyes roamed and then lingered in all the right places and more.
His reading glasses sit low on the bridge of his nose and you two make direct visual contact as his chin dips down a bit and the frames slip just enough to reveal those chestnut-shaded eyes of his. “May I ask what made me so different then?” His voice was rich and sweet enough to make you dizzy if you listened to it long enough.
“Hmm..” You hum in faux thought, despite having the answer clear in your head. “I dunno, maybe because you’re hot.” You explain honestly.
Nanami smiles to himself at the sound of that. He truly did admire your lack of shame as time went on, “You willingly allowed yourself to stay the night at a stranger’s just because you find them attractive?”
You’re chuckling and he’s taking the slightest step closer. “Well, yes.” You reply.
To which the man lets out a scolding little scoff, “That’s quite careless, y’know.” He warns once more, growing nearer.
You don’t fight the distance. If anything, you quite welcome it. Especially with the way you gradually shift closer. It was as though both of you had some sort of silent understanding that there was way too much space between you for all the tension that was building.
Even though the tension in question was building toward two different things.
You wanted to get a piece of the man and he… well, he wanted the same thing but in a different way.
“Nanami,” You purr, hearing the wood faintly creak beneath his slow steps.
His smile has yet to fade and his energy is just so enticing at the moment that you feel lulled into him. It was like he’d put you under a vocal spell with that soothing tone of his, “I’ve told you, you can call me Kento.”
You release a sigh, “Listen, I’d rather be in here with a ‘stranger’—who I’ve gotten to know fairly well thus far—than out there sleeping in my car alone.”
Nanami’s walking comes to a stop once you’re in arm's reach and his voice is a little scary as he whispers, “You’re alone with a stranger though.”
Feigning not to see the danger you may now be in, “What’s your point?” You ask softly.
His gaze drags across your face and he fully intends to coax more of that frightened expression out of you as he murmurs, “We’re far enough away from town where no one could hear you scream, does that not concern you?”
You merely bat your lashes all innocently up at the man and the gesture is making his heart clench within his chest tightly. Then, you have the audacity to lean forward and lift a single finger up to his chest to poke him. Smiling, “No one could hear me scream out here?” You repeat.
Just to confirm, of course.
Nanami fights the furrow in his brows and instead looks down at the finger you hand pressing into his chest before breathing out a heavy, “No.”
A beat or two pass between you both and he hardly gets the chance to blink before you’re slithering yourself up close—too close—and looking directly at his expression to watch for his reaction as you ask, “Doesn’t that mean if we were to fuck, I could be as loud as I want?”
You practically watch his breath get tangled in the center of his throat and get a lucky feel of his heart skipping a beat beneath your finger. Of all things you could have said to him, of all ways you would have interpreted his truly harmless threats, that was nowhere near what he expected you to say.
Hence why his voice wavers a little as he chokes, “Pardon?”
Nanami’s eyes flick up to yours and he gulps thickly at the way you’re peering at him now.
“I said, if we fucked—like in here or even outside—I could be as loud as I want,” You repeat shamelessly with a few purposefully innocent bats of your lashes. “Right?”
The next delicious little thing you earn from him is a short scoff, as if he’s not just surprised but utterly bewildered by you. Here he was considering making you his next victim to chop up and the whole time you wanted to… get into his pants??
A sudden smirk dawns across his sharp features and he leans down to your ear, “Is that what you followed me out here for?” He questions low enough to have your body hot with anticipation. Then, before you could quite answer and as if you needed the clarification, his lips brush against your skin, “My cock?”
And there it was, that dizzying feeling again. It was one thing to hear his baritone travel across the hallway and caress your ears but to have his breath and thickly aroused voice against the crown of your ear was something else entirely.
Your lashes are fluttering for real now and you’re finally pulling away to create a little bit of distance, bashfully looking down to the ground, “Well, when you put it like that, you make me sound like some kinda pervert.”
Nanami watches how shy you become and he feels as though he’s hardly holding back now, “I have reason to believe you are.” Lord knows killing you was now the last thing on his mind.
You’d just saved yourself by turning him on and you hadn’t the slightest clue. Hell, if anything, you had the nerve to grow shy about it.
Cute.
It takes you a moment to collect yourself and the moment your eyes meet his again, you can feel the lust hanging between the two of you. “Is that a bad thing?” You murmur.
“No…” Nanami replies rather quickly, contrasting the firmness of his tone. Then he cocks his head to the side and finally allows his brows to meet slightly, “But, what am I meant to do with you now? Hm?”
“Whatever you want,” Comes spilling past your lips almost too eagerly, even for yourself.
He feels the painfully prominent twitch of his cock as your words ring out into the air and his mind was straying further and further from that gentlemanly approach he was so desperately trying to keep with you. “Careful, sweetheart.” Nanami advises, “You still don’t really know me.”
You appear to be amused by that, given the way you smile, “We can get to know each other in a few different ways.”
His voice is hardly restrained at this point, etching deeper into something husky, “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” You hum ever so innocently.
His eyes narrow down on you, “And how do you suggest we do that this late into the night?”
……
You had one suggestion.
But, it was less of a suggestion and more of a request.
Chase me through the woods, you’d said. Now your feet were burning against the uneven dirt below your rushed footsteps.
Sure, he agreed. And now you felt as though you’d run into him at any given moment now.
Before you even exited the house, Nanami mentioned that if you make it to your car before he finds you, it’d be best that you went ahead and left. When you asked him why, he told you, “You won’t be able to handle what finds you.”
Does that later turn out to be true? Maybe. But did you care in the moment? Of course not, you just got a hot stranger to agree to chase you through the woods! One of your darkest fantasies was coming to life and you couldn’t be happier.
But, you had to pretend like it wasn’t exactly what you’d been wanting since the moment he saw you bent into the hood of your car. This totally wasn’t the reason you’d been so bold with him and you definitely don’t want him to find you now.
A few more pieces of information had been shared between the two of you before you went running. Apparently, Nanami went out and fixed your car while you were holed up in the guest bedroom—even though he told you earlier that he couldn’t work in the dark.
The two of you also agreed that if he finds you before you find your car, he’s going to fuck you. The last thing he wanted to do was anything without your consent.
Even a murderer like him had morals! For you, at least.
The only thing Nanami didn’t tell you was that the car he fixed? Yeah, it’s actually not in the spot you left it in.
You don’t realize that until you get there.
————
You’re a bit out of breath after running for the past few minutes or so but, you’re actually glad to see that your car is nowhere to be found.
Concerned? Sure. But at least this meant you didn’t have to leave just yet.
The only thing about this little arrangement that brought you true concern was how you knew he was somewhere in the woods hunting for you right now. The thought alone sends a chill down your spine, especially as you glance back in the direction you came and notice just how dark the forest is where the moon can’t quite reach.
You swallow thickly and turn away to think. You didn’t really need to hide if you wanted him to fuck you, right?
Nah, if you don’t hide, that’d take away all the fun!
Y’know, the same “fun” that quickly dies when you hear a twig snapping in the distance. Your heart decides to sink straight down into your ass and you nearly let out a sound of surprise. Luckily enough for you, your hand was over your mouth almost instinctively. Then your feet were moving on their own to try and duck behind the nearest and biggest tree you could find.
There’s no way he caught up to you that fast, right?
The surrounding forest is eerily quiet and you feel as though you should be able to hear him coming if that snapping branch was really him…
If anything, if it wasn’t him you think that’d scare you a whole lot more. After all, there is a murderer on the loose.
You didn’t quite consider that before now. What if the killer finds you before Nanami does? What if you died out here because you were too busy trying to get screwed against some tree by a complete stranger?
Imagine that on your headstone: stupid girl gets brutally dismembered in woods after being found by the known axe-maniac while waiting for some stranger to come fuck her.
Now your eyes were squeezing shut and your back was hugging the stiff tree behind you.
All your senses were quickly growing more alert as the seconds chipped away and suddenly, this wasn’t just a cute lil’ thing you decided to do anymore. You were surrounded by the unknown, covered in the darkness of shadows that cast over you where the moonlight couldn’t lay its delicate glow upon, and slowly growing more and more scared.
Anyone or anything could find you out here before Nanami did. The slightest shift of leaves on the ground just a few inches away from you, where wind gusts over, made your skin jump and you found yourself flinching at every little thing.
The gulp you take is thick with nerves, eyes flashing from one place to another as you try to catch the every adjustment of any and all nearby shades of night. The wood behind you pricks at your skin through the fabric of Nanami’s shirt that you’re still clad in, your back only pressing up against it more as if to merge into the tree itself, and the cool night air caresses the exposed skin of your legs below your shorts.
There was a knot in your stomach now and you were getting antsy for Nanami to hurry up and find you. At least in his arms you’d feel a lot safer than you do right now, all alone in the forest like an idiot. The minutes stretched on and it’s not long before you start debating resuming the search for your vehicle.
Perhaps getting into it and driving away wasn’t such a bad idea after all…
Especially considering the way Nanami sucks at locating you. You left his cabin over twenty minutes ago and have been hiding behind the same tree for the past six or seven, surely he should have found you by now, since he knows these woods so well.
Yet there you stood, growing colder under the night’s chilled air and worrying for your safety for the first time since you’d been stranded. Hell, you almost started to regret this whole—
The sound of a sharp thwack into the very thick wood you were hiding behind captures your attention. Followed by the words, “Found you,” being heaved out into the quiet air, warm breath smacking against your ear and making you flinch so hard it was like you left your own flesh for a moment.
If you weren’t scared shitless before, you damn sure were now.
You instinctively lurch your body forward in a pathetic attempt to escape, but then there’s a grasp on your hair and your whole frame is jerked back. “Don’t fucking run from me, we have a deal, remember?”
You stumble back against Nanami’s beefy chest as he snatches you back toward him and your breath catches in your throat, cunt throbbing already in… fear? arousal? Something in between—like scarousal—perhaps. Gasping, “Nanami I-“
He’s cutting you off by moving a hand to your jaw and forcing you to angle it back so you can meet his now brooding brown eyes. The gentleman you swore you once knew seems to be gone with the way he was looking at you now as if he wanted to eat you alive.
One of his fingers slips up against your expression just to push past your pretty, slightly drooling lips and spread them against the pad of his thumb. “If you don’t want this anymore, say that, and I’ll stop,” He utters hotly.
Your lashes flutter and you let him press that thumb of his all the way into your mouth, sucking on it like some slut before you actually fix your lips to answer him, “I still want it.”
The fear you had previously has been completely replaced by your own whorish arousal and you reveled in the way he treats you. Nanami grunts, “Then don’t run from it.”
“I didn’t mean to, I just-“
“Shut up,” The man all but groans before tipping your head all the way back so he can press his lips down into yours.
He kisses you hungrily as if he’d been waiting to do so from the moment he’d set eyes on you. Fuck, this was bad. He’s supposed to have gotten rid of you by now and yet here he is, tugging at your clothes to get a feel of you, tonguing your down, and swallowing up your every whine.
The fact that you asked him to do this whole thing was what really drove him insane. He can’t help but be rough with the way he handles you, shoving you forward a bit so that he could be the one between your body and the tree you so poorly hid behind.
His hand had left your face and your head angled a bit more so the kiss could continue while his grip greedily cupped your tits into his big hands. You were melting against his every touch, moaning into his mouth, and then bucking your ass back against his crotch.
The moment his cock is felt through the thick fabric of his jeans, you gasp, “Nanami-“
“Kento,” He corrects swiftly, two fingers shifting against your breasts just to give your nipples a mean pinch. “Say my name while I fuck you, got it?” He commands heavily.
Then his hands were leaving your tits, just for a moment, so that he could bring them up to the collar of your shirt and begin to tug. Your lips slip off of his with a wet pop! followed by a cute gasp from your throat as you turn to watch the way he riiips that shirt of his straight down the middle.
The torn fabric shreds to the floor and then you feel Nanami’s gaping mouth at the side of your neck, palms desperate as they fly to your breasts again to fondle the gorgeous mounds in his hands. He’s squeezing and then gliding the fat of his thumbs over your perky nipples again, giving them a playful little twist, and then smiling into your skin at the way you whine.
“Sensitive, huh?” Nanami sears against you, letting the hungry drool from his lips slick up the area where his mouth had just been.
He takes the following pathetic sound from your lips as a reply and then moves his fingers to flick at your delicate buds as a finality before letting one hand fall down in between the two of you.
If he didn’t get some sort of relief right now, he was going to lose his mind.
Nanami is rather skillful with the one hand he leaves at your tits, switching between each to give them the same amount of attention and carefully pulling strings of wonton moans past your drunkenly parted lips. He had hardly done anything yet and he already knew you’d been waiting on this.
The sound of his belt buckle clacking against itself as he messily unbuckles the hindering item and then flings it off to the side seems to echo throughout the not-so-scary forestry. You hear but a few more shuffles and feel his hand brushing over the curve of your ass just a couple more times before something viscous and sweltering is thumping against your ass with a faint curve upwards.
You’re feeling overly dizzy now. Particularly as he moves his hands to your hips and swirls the two of you around so he can press your face against the three you two have been standing behind. You wanted to hate that harsh scratch of wood against your cheek, but you couldn’t even think with Nanami’s weeping cock busy pouring out drooly strings of precum against the bare skin of your lower back.
If anything, your lashes were too busy fluttering as you let your head tilt and your eyes tried to catch a subtle glance at the weight resting below your slowly arching spine.
If there wasn’t a wet mess pooling in between your thighs before then there damn sure was now, almost uncontrollably so.
Nanami goes along to tug away the sorry fabric of your shorts, watching the way they slip down your legs and pool oh-so-gracefully at your ankles. His cock lay needily against your panties now as he leaned forward for your ear, whispering, “Can you feel that?”
Your cunt flutters ridiculously around nothing and your voice has been reduced to a pitiable mumble, “Yes, Kento..”
A pretty response like that earns you the grazing of his teeth against the crown of your ear as his voice drops impossibly lower, “How’s it feel, huh? Tell me.” Nanami directs, leaving you no room to argue.
And as if to coax your answer out of your suddenly moan-clogged throat, his hips real back and he angles his cock down before thrusting the thick of it in between your sweat-slicked thighs, allowing you to feel the heaty veins decorating his shaft.
You moan as if he’d just pushed into you, “Big, Ken’.. so fuckin’ big..” To which he groans right into your ear so that you would really digest what it is your aroused tone did to him.
Those hands he had at your hips are now keeping your body steady so he can properly pry his hips back and let his cock schliiick up against the wet soiling of your panties, stuffing between your thighs perfectly and rubbing along your slobbering folds deliciously.
Then—ever the talker—as if to earn a lovely throb of your pussy against him, he’s heaving all over again. “Do you like it?” Nanami taunts, biting back a smile, “Having a big cock rubbing in between your thighs like this? Hm?”
Your cunt is wetly begging for more at this point; body thrumming, sleek with sweat mixed through an overwhelming heat, and desperate need to fuck. Any longer with him rutting in between your thighs like this and you felt as though you’d pass out from lack of dick being inside you.
Eventually grumbling an answer out to him, “Y-Yes but-, ah..!” You’re cut off by the obviously purposeful way his glazed mushroom tip pokes up against the pad of your panties, doubly smearing pre into the already soaked material and simultaneously teasing your folds to part.
“But what?” Namai questions far too innocently for the way he’s torturing your poor, needy pussy right now.
Huffing from kiss-bitten lips, “I want you inside me, Kento,” You plead too prettily for him to deny.
“Mmh,” A hand of his comes up to force your head back again, letting your eyes meet his shaded brown ones, “Where’s those manners, huh?”
“P-Please,” You whisper, “I just want-“
“Louder,” Nanami cuts off crisply enough for you to release a bashless whine.
“Kento, please fuck me,” You breathed out finally, “I need it, need you inside me. Pleeease.”
Considering that perfect enough for both his ego and the aching inches of his cock, a commanding, “Spread your legs,” plummets past his lips.
Your feet have never parted faster, thighs parting and removing the warm pressure that’d been hugging his dick all too addictively. Then you bend over further, if possible, and rest a little more comfortably against the tree ahead.
“Mhm, exactly like that. Now arch,” He directs, hand pressing into your spine whilst your face smushes into the rough bark of the tree.
You were too horny to mind the pain, though. Nanami’s hand suddenly comes down on your ass as he slaps it, the impact ringing out into the surrounding quiet.
Finally, you begin to feel his fingers hook around the only material hanging in between you and him before he stretches it out a bit and then lets go, letting your panties smack! against your puffy pussy lips and ripping a whimper out of your throat.
At the sound, Nanami swears he almost cums.
Which is exactly why he knew he couldn’t tease you much longer. So he hooks his fingers again and then lazily tears the fabric apart so that it could flutter off your throbbing body and leave you bare to his craving gaze.
“Fuck, look at you,” Nanami gasps as he takes his heavy length into his hand and angles the plump, welled tip in between your slick dribbling folds, “Such a mess for it already…”
You clasp your bottom lip in between your teeth and hate how he lets himself glide up instead of in, slipping past your cunt, catching against your clit for a second too fast for your cockdrunken brain to process, and then further up as if to… measure something?
Nanami tugs you back by your hips a little and once your ass is nice and flush with his sharp pelvis, he hooks his arm around you and then begins to feel around for where the length of his cock comes to a stop against you.
Chuckling, “Am I even going to fit in here?” He asks tauntingly. Following that rhetorical question up with an annoying groan of, “Ah, shit. That’s gonna be really deep, sweetheart. Can you take that?”
“I can,” You blurt out ever so sweetly.
Nanami scoffs, “You’re just greedy for some cock to fill you up, aren’t you?” He asks as if he didn’t already know the answer.
Which is why he’s anything but surprised at the way you murmur a delightful, “Y-Yes,” as if you weren’t too sure of your own words.
“And she agrees,” He mocks tenderly and then lets his dick travel back down to slap against your folds with one wet plap echoing into the forest air. “I bet you didn’t even try to hide properly, did you?”
“I did-,” You tried to answer him properly, you really did. But as that swollen cockhead of his begins to protrude past your syrupy entrance, your breath is tangled up in your throat. “Ohmygod…” You’re heaving into the tree.
“So wet-,” Nanami hisses in tandem with you, “Fuck, you wrap around me so gorgeously,” He whispers whilst leaning back a bit and letting his palms paw at your ass cheeks just to spread them apart and get a better look.
Your eyes quickly begin to kiss the back of your skull, nails clawing at the bark of the tree ahead of you because of how thick Nanami’s cock is. You think your legs are shaking a bit, but you can’t tell if that’s because of how indigent you were for this or because of how wide he’s stretching you.
It takes you a loong group of seconds to adjust to the sheer girth of his cock, in which Nanami attempts to go slow and cater to the clear twitch and overall stutter in your expression. His gaze switched back and forth between the way your pussy was swallowing up his slightly curving inches and the flashes of surprise to gorgeous pleasure across your face.
The slow, shallow grinding into your rather accepting cunt only lasts for so long until he physically can’t take it anymore.
That quickly ends with one blunt thrust, his unfairly fat tip smooching the hilt of your soaked pussy and hauling a heightened moan from deep within you. Then he’s keeping you perfectly still so that he can begin to bury himself in and out of your gooey cunt, slick dripping off from where you two met and tap, tap, tapping! against the poor crumbled leaves below.
“Mmgh… god, you’re a slut.” Nanami slurs half-drunkenly to you. He was losing his mind faster than he could comprehend, getting so utterly lost in the way you lulled his erection deeper inside your already-stuffed pussy each time he pried himself back. “Letting me fuck you in the middle of the woods like this,” He moans, fingertips now bruising the skin of your hips, “Just eager to be used, huhh?”
“Uhuh,” You drool, no longer caring about the rather debauched state of your ruined frame. “I... ah! Mmgh, I w-wanted this s’bad, Kento..”
He breaks out an all too pleased smile, hips stuttering against your ass now, “This was why you couldn’t sleep, wasn’t it?” He assumes, “You needed a stranger like me to-, hahh.. chase you through the woods ‘n stuff this poor, desperate lil’ hole of yours, yeahhh?”
You’re a delirious mess of all sorts now, nodding cockdrunkenly as he plows into you with loud, wet thrusts. “Y-Yeah, needed this… mmphf-, fuck!” You moan.
“Awh, you’re so sweet.” Nanami coos all of a sudden.
Though the gentleness of his baritone voice gives you whiplash, considering how he shifts behind you and wraps a bulky arm around your neck unexpectedly. As he captures you in a headlock and pounds his pleasureful cock into you harder, leaving your legs quaking a little, Nanami decides to talk into your ear again with a whisper of, “How’s it feel to be my sweet final girl?” that leaves you dazed.
“Final-, hnngh…” You’re somewhere through another orgasm now, having not even realized the mess you’ve begun to leave against his sloppy dick. Breathing past the pressure of muscle at the center of your throat, “F-Final girl?”
“Yes,” He murmurs softly as if it were no big deal. Your body was just jerking and bouncing with the way he roughly fucked you senselessly, carrying on this little conversation with such ease that it literally had your eyes crossing and your mind reduced to a mushy mess, “You know, the only person to survive a killer in those slasher movies,” Nanami explains.
“K-Kento!” You gasp out in response to that. This meant he really was that axe murderer all this time! Not that you had the time to digest that when he was too busy rearranging your very euphoric walls, “Hahh… those-, mmgh! Those articles, they-, ah.. they were all you?” You eventually manage.
Nanami tilts his head to the side and you miss the way he flashes a full, proud smile, “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you can figure that one out yourself.”
Sputtering, “Then why… mmpf-, f-fuck, why’re you letting me live?”
“Priorities, sweetheart,” The blond insists, thick strands of hair sticking to the crown of his forehead now. “I’m hoping if I fuck you hard enough you won’t tell anyone,” He admits, as if he couldn’t have gotten away with this whole thing without ever admitting anything to you.
And yet, your pussy was down there gushing all over him as soon as he revealed his “secret” to you. So, he felt as though you didn’t care too much about who he cut up in his free time, especially not now when you’re too busy taking his cock.
“But-, fuck…” Your body convulses a little and his head was churning against your sweet spot, leaving stringy cobwebs of cum against it as he held back the incoming load he was about to fill you with, “Kento, a-all those people-”
“Shhh, shh, I promise you they all got what was already coming to them,” He explains as if to soothe your moral worrying in the moment. Then he has the nerve to grunt and sharply halt the movement of his hips, using the arm around your throat to bend your body a little more as his cock spurts thick ropes of his seed into you as he pants, “You trust me, don’t you?”
Nodding, “U-Uhuh.” as he lazily pumps his cum deeper inside you, almost like he wanted to make sure it took.
Nanami snickers your agreement, “Aw, poor girl, she’s too stuffed to think straight anymore,” He points out smoothly, sliding his other hand down to rub over your clit and feel the way your body thrashes against his in overstimulation, “So what do you say, huh? You won’t tell anyone about me, right?” He asks anyway.
Your voice is a shaky stutter and you felt as though you couldn’t breathe, choking up on your own orgasm, “I-I’d never-, nngh.. snitch on you, Kento.” You claim stupidly.
To which Nanami rolls his eyes, “Wow, it really only takes some cock to have you trusting a complete stranger? Pathetic…”
A couple more energy-spent thrusts later and his length flops out of you, leaving your pussy leaking with his cum and the two of you panting heavily.
It takes a few moments for the both of you to gather yourselves, but neither of you really moves. You stay wrapped up in the rather endearing headlock he’s put you in, and he doesn’t seem like he plans to let you go at first.
Then, it’s slow but, he carefully unravels you out of his grasp, and you two lean forward against the poor tree that had to stand there and watch you two go at it like feral animals.
Nanami’s bare chest is rising and falling with slow, measured breaths against you, and you find it oddly peaceful now. Well, ignoring the filth of cum sliding down your thighs currently…
You eventually break the gathering of your breath with a playful murmur, “Sooooo,” The moment your breathy tone hit his ears, he knew exactly what you were about to ask. “You don’t uh, kill the people you fuck, riiiight?”
Nanami pauses, long and hard.
“Unfortunately for you, sweetheart,” He begins, just to give you one last scare, “I do.”
sukuna never let’s you know when he’s gonna come over. he just magically appears on your couch as if he’s always been there, munching on your snacks, browsing through your HBO subscription, when all you’re trynna do is take a shower and dive head first in your (still unmade) bed.
“it’s like,” you squint at your phone, the light blinding your eyes. “three in the morning, babes.”
his pink spiky hair doesn’t move an inch, even as he runs a forgetful hand through it, a telling testament to his hair gel’s potent strength, but what you can’t stop thinking—
he just looks so ridiculously enormous on your two-seater; fitted t-shirt straining over massive biceps, tight over his chest, tattooed lines peeking through the white and hugging his slim waist; jeans low on his hips, red boxers showing, and— devastatingly handsome face. the most expressive crimson eyes you’re ever witnessed, a strong jaw, full mouth, black ink painted over a sculpted nose and high cheekbones and forehead.
you know what this is.
he’s gonna end up in your bed again, with that perfect face buried in between your legs, and you’ll get no rest for the third time this week. it’s been happening more and more frequently ever since you two shared a drunken kiss at gojo’s party, exactly one month ago, and he’s been very explicit in his refusal to leave your body alone.
in fact, his exact words were: “this pussy belongs to me now,” which, like. yeah, okay.
you don’t even bother with pants as you grab a juice box and plop on the couch next to him, curving into all of his empty pockets of space. he hums in approval, arm coming over and around your shoulders, pulling you in, his nose burying in your hair, woody cologne and man (wanted here, unwanted at your job) enveloping your fuzzy senses, your tired eyes falling closed before you can even pierce the straw down the caprisun.
“you smell like dior sauvage and cheap gin,” he comments, no distinct tone in his gravelly voice.
you smile unwittingly. “jealous?” when he doesn’t reply, you add, “slow night. made good tips though.”
“did you.” dry. blunt. he takes the juice from you and hands it to you a second later, putting it into your hands and closing your fingers around it, pushing it up against your mouth. “open.”
you comply, sucking on the thin yellow straw. you’re quiet for a while as you swallow fast, thirsty and hungry and severely blushing from the cute gesture. you doubt sukuna’s batted an eye at what he just did.
he’s always been this way with you. taking care of you, making sure you’re eating enough protein and keeping a stocked fridge. in part it could be cause he eats more than half of what you buy, but really you think it’s because he feels guilty for pushing you into this line of work.
stripping. you would’ve have chosen it for yourself, but it pays the bills and they hired you immediately per sukuna’s recommendation. don’t got much to offer, but i can do this for you, only that was two years ago and he’s since taken over three clubs and most definitely could afford to buy you a small mansion if you just said the word.
but you don’t. because you two are nothing to each other, not really; not together, not quite friends or employee/employer, but always something in between all three, and you don’t think you could give it up but you’re also not going to take advantage of it either.
the TV plays game of thrones in low volume, when you notice sukuna’s breathing pattern change. you look down, at his open hand, palm up, at your exposed lap, clean shaven pussy and lace panties in plain view. you can’t see his expression, but you know he’s affected.
you slowly part your legs, juice forgotten.
this is why he came, isn’t it? let him have it. you can pretend otherwise all you want, but you crave him too. his expert fingers.
his cock. thick and veiny, flushed at the tip, leaking, always sensitive to your touch. you can see his bulging erection, can see the uncomfortable shift of his hips as he tries to somehow relieve the ache that’s building between you.
your stomach drops nervously, the familiar warmth pooling inside.
“any trouble tonight?” which in sukuna talk means, “did anyone touch you?”
you bite your lip, debating if you should lie or not. the arm around you tightens, hands turning into fists, suspicion morphing into quiet, violent anger. your fingertips touch his wrist and he stills, softening imperceptibly, but enough for you.
your eyes meet.
he grabs you by the nape of your neck and smashes your mouths together, tongue trespassing, tasting the kiwi on yours. sukuna was and still isn’t a patient person. you think he might be the least patient man alive, actually, which is a challenge in and of itself, but for you—
he’s changed. he’s tried. he’s a constant work in progress, and he shows you.
as his rough palm cups your slick mound, you let yourself admit you might be a little in love with him.
a lot.
a lot.
and you want this like you’ve never wanted anything else.
you part, breathing heavily, and he takes your bottom lip in between his teeth, bitting softly on the swollen skin. you moan as he exposes your wetness and dips two fingers inside, curling them, knuckles dragging over your over-sensitive clit.
“stop working,” he grunts in your ear, digits moving inside you, working you open, one leg thrown over his lap for better access. you buck up into his hand, stomach flexing and he pushes down on your chest with his forearm, binding you against him, no escape, nothing else but him, him, him and his nauseating pace. “say you will.”
you whine, “please, more, i-i can’t—” wanting faster, harder, the monstrous thing in his pants in your hole, any hole, anything to soothe that twisting pain you feel in your belly, like a storm brewing, like you’ll—you’ll—
you come for him crying, your fingers wrapping around the hand that’s toying with your sanity. his thumb is stroking lazy circles, your orgasm used as lube, juices running down to your ass, thighs trembling.
“you know i can take care of you,” he continues, and then he’s flicking, one thick finger dipping back inside while the rest of his palm cups your pussy and rattles you delirious. “yeah? don’t you, baby?”
you scream, overstimulated, pushing away, begging, on fire—he doesn’t let go. his mouth is locked on your ear, whispering filth, strong hips humping your leg.
“you let me fuck this pussy every night . . . let me have you to myself. let me take care of everything.”
you turn your head towards him and he meets you halfway, foreheads touching, a second orgasm approaching, stars exploding, four fingers stretching you wide open, milky white gushing out of your sore hole.
“f-fuck me,” you breathe. “fuck me.”
he curses and squeezes your cheeks together with the same hand, thumb pushing past your lips, letting you taste yourself. you swirl your tongue over his digit, sucking hard. he squeezes more and your mouth falls open.
he spits inside. you’re shaking with want.
sukuna unbuckles his belt and gets in between your thighs, mounting you, body weight pressing over you deliciously, suffocating. you cry out at the loss of friction until he replaces it with his long, fat cock, rubbing up and down your soaked pussy lips, pumping at the shaft, then entering all at once.
you stare at the spot connecting you, black dots swimming across your vision. you’re so turned on you’re gonna let him come inside. he knows it too. he loves you like this.
“damn you, woman,” he growls savagely, arms coming to rest on either side of you, hips pistoling, his rhythm ruthless and cruel. “every time . . . so fuckin’ tight.”
and then in your hair, guttural, destroyed—come apart on my fucking cock, i know you can, come on, one more, give me one more—as he’s drilling you into the couch, reaching so far deep up your cervix you feel him in your tummy, rearranging your guts, creating you anew.
“doin’ so good for me, ma,” he rasps, trailing wet kisses down your neck, teeth sinking into thin skin. “lemme see those tits. touch them, lemme see you.”
you do as he says, brushing the fabric of your shirt up, over the curve of your breasts, index and middle finger clamping around one perky nipple and squeezing, eliciting incomprehensible moans out of you, pleads and things sukuna cannot understand.
so, he dips his head and sucks on it. then the other. until they’re properly lathered with spit, and then he flicks his tongue over them. again and again, teasing you with a devil’s smirk.
“i’m so close, so close, please, please, please—”
he picks up speed until you’re certain the couch is gonna give up on you, until the neighbors have surely heard you and your legs have already given up on carrying you tomorrow. sukuna fucks you with an intensity no other man has ever shown you, like he wants to possess you body and soul, like he wants something vital from you, something he can’t teach until he’s buried to the hilt inside of your sweet cunt and deeper still.
sukuna wants to devour you. defile you. fuck you up so beyond belief that you know nothing but him, nothing but the shape of his cock in your womb, his scent clinging onto your skin like your own. he wants to climb inside your ribcage and plant himself there.
but then you’re coming, flooding him with sweetness and he’s nothing but a dog, pressing closer for a taste, consumed with only one purpose—to breed you.
“you want my cum?” he mutters hotly, nails digging into your hips, branding himself between those gummy walls of yours. “you gon’ let me breed this pretty little pussy? say you will.”
you moan brokenly, damn bear hyperventilating, heartbeat erratic.
“say it,” he commands, so close he can feel it surging up his cock.
“sukuna . . . yes. yes!”
he growls all animal and instinct with the force of his climax. has to grip onto the head of the couch so as not to fall on top of you and crush you, though he thinks you’d fucking love that.
“you’re taking it so well, baby,” he praises your pussy, slapping your puffy folds after he pulls out, watching it gush and clench, empty hole pleading to be filled to the brim again.
he fingers it all back inside, then shoves the taste of the two of you in your mouth. you lick it clean, and smile sheepishly, stretching under him.
“don’t go back,” he mumbles on your brow. “don’t want you doing that anymore.”
“i can’t depend entirely on you, sukuna,” you weakly argue.
“i’ll find you another job,” he presses, leaning back to stare into your face. “but no more club.”
you stare back defiantly, hand coming up between you to fist his half-hard dick. he hisses and jerks forward. you lick a long line from his jaw to his collarbone, and sigh dreamily.
“okay,” you inevitably give in. “no more club.”
he kisses you once, then raises to his feet, all six foot tall, and picks you up with one arm, carrying you to your bed.
pornstar!satoru and pornstar!suguru managing to talk you into letting them both fuck you at the same time on film—a double penetration scene.
apparently, after a few... lewd images of the three of you together were leaked by a blue-eyed attention whore who swears he didn't mean to edit, upload and caption them before posting them on his main twitter, your combined audiences have started begging for video content of the three of you. and what better than a filthy threesome to spark the flame of your three-way-affairs?
it's how you end up riding suguru, feeling his cock so deep inside of you that you swear he's in your stomach. your hands find purchase on his muscled pecs as you ride him to the brink of orgasm; sweat coats your skin, his too, and as it is with suguru, your moans aren't played up for the sake of porn: they're raw and real and so loud as he encourages your sounds with a finger circling over your clit.
those at home watching the pair of you, only one hand free as they stroke or finger or rub themselves in time with each thrust of Suguru's hips up into you, are all met with the sight of satoru walking into frame. cock hard and big and at attention as he climbs onto the bed behind you and takes a few moments to kiss at your neck, reach around and play with your bouncing tits.
how he teases you with his words, whispers them into you ear with full knowledge that the cameras microphone wont pick up on his words. there's no production crew this time around, no directors forcing a position or calling for breaks and ruining the building tension in your already coiled stomach.
"gonna fuck this pretty ass so deep, see if i can feel sugu through you hm? you want that?"
and his word already have you on edge, all you think you can manage is a moan of approval and the slightest nod of your head, but satoru grabs your chin and guides your gaze to the camera. "say you want it, say you want me."
"i—fuck—i want you, toru. want you to fuck my ass while i ride suguru."
the domesticity, the sweet nicknames you wouldn't have said on film if you were half as aware of the world around you—it's a lot for poor satoru to handle, what with how hard his cock is, how it's already leaking so much precum onto the sheets beneath you. he can barely still your hips for long enough to work himself into your ass, and the stretch of him is enough to push you forward and on top of suguru.
you're given a moment to adjust, a full minute of stillness to catch your breath and acclimate to the overwhelming fullness you feel—the weird way you feel whole, and the inevitable loss you'll feel once this is over. the moment is also given to stop the poor boys from cumming all too quickly. suguru can feel satoru pulsing inside of you, and satoru swears he can feel suguru's cock twitch. you squeeze around the both of them, test their resolve with a simple roll of the hips, and then choke on your spit when they both start thrusting in tandem with each other. hard and fast and mean and all at once.
it's blinding, the pleasure you feel all of a sudden.
suguru is strong and domineering with his hands on your hips and his cock nestled deep in your pussy—he thrusts his hips up, matches satoru's unkind pace in such a way you're sure you'll be unable to walk the next way. gorgeous praise slips from his lips as you hold eye contact with him—you're surely a mess, fucked stupid by two men at once.
satoru is eager and manic in the way he takes your ass. his hands perched on suguru's thighs as he ruts into you over and over in chase of a climax he knows is going to be unearthly. he'd praise you if he could, but all that spills from his mouth are incoherent babbles of pleasure that would make anyone listening think that he's the one being impaled on his almost too-large cock.
they work so well together—your pleasure seems to be the one thing they consistently agree on. you don't even have the mind to worry about the video length with how fast you're reaching orgasm, dragging the boys with you as you shake between them, wracked with pleasure so overwhelming you're nearly in tears.
it's a clip that gets shared on every porn site and blog known to man. of you, a fucked out mess between two lust-struck men each cumming inside of you at the exact same time your own orgasm crests.
the clenching of suguru's stomach as he bucks up into you, natural instincts rolling his cock as deep as possible as he empties his balls inside of you.
the way satoru tilits his head back, jaw tight and hair a mess as he forgets how to breathe when he paints the inside of your ass with his cum.
and you, impaled on both cocks at the same time, overstimulated and shaking with the remnants of the strongest orgasm you've had in a long time, and still rolling your hips in hopes of more. another round or three, as long as you stay this full.
satoru thinks voice messages are romantic. they’re intimate. they’re sincere. they’re a sacred art form of communication far superior to texting. that’s what he tells you, anyway. really, he just likes hearing himself talk—and more importantly, likes imagining you listening. anytime. anywhere. especially when he’s out on missions and you’re home without him, wearing one of his shirts and watering the plants like it’s not killing him to be away.
he never just types "miss you." that would be too simple. too silent. no emotional nuance. instead, he sends you a flood of chaotic 30-second voice notes, one after another, each more dramatic than the last:
“baby, did you eat? are you drinking water? i miss you. also, where’s the remote. also, you looked hot this morning. that’s all. okay wait—no, also i stepped on your slipper and it was very emotionally traumatic for me.”
“you didn’t reply yet so i’m assuming you’re dead. or worse, ignoring me. which is fine. i’ll just lie down in this hotel bed. alone. freezing. and unloved.”
“i finished my mission. i was so cool. i punched a curse in the face. no one clapped. it was very upsetting. i’m relying on you to tell me i’m amazing when i get home.”
it’s endless. your notification tone has become synonymous with breathless wheezing laughter and soft, fond sighs. and even when he’s supposedly being a menace—whining about forgetting his charger or that you didn’t pack him snacks—you can hear it. the smile behind his words. the homesick curl of his voice.
because satoru may talk big, act cocky, yammer on about how everyone worships the ground he walks on—but he only really wants praise from one person. you.
the moment he lands back home, he’s already nudging his nose into your neck, arms slung around your waist like he’s magnetized.
“missed me?” he mumbles, even though your hands are already buried in his hair. and when you say, “so much,” he lights up like a fool. smug. soft. sickeningly happy.
(he still sends a voice note the next day. from two rooms away. “babe. the rice cooker’s making noises. come check if it’s possessed.”)
turnnoffyourmind
vaporwave
jacobvanloon
tangentwithtanner
dailybridgerton
kianamaiart
yousharknotpass
