Imagine being Clark's long-term partner, and knowing about his second life. You two make it work well.
He gets a little paranoid, about your safety. He's content to let you be, knowing he can always swoop in to save you. But one day, he's informed of a mission off-world. He has to go, but the idea of leaving himself vulnerable has him starting to spiral.
You don't like it, but you agree to stay with his friend Bruce for the time being. You don't want Clark to be distracted on his mission, and the relief on his face warmed your heart a little. Bruce isn't your cup of tea, but Clark trusts him, and you can respect that.
He's a model host while you're at the manor. You're given a very warm welcome, and he makes it his personal duty to ensure all your needs are met. You weren't expecting him to take care of your more intimate needs as well.
You hadn't been able to fight him off, and escaping the manor was equally impossible. It was all you could do to wait for Clark to swoop in and save you from the danger he left you in.
Imagine your shock, after telling him everything, Clark thanks Bruce for taking such good care of you.
Jester!Gojo who makes you laugh whilst he's inside you. Whispering your favorite jokes and grunting at the feeling of you cIenching. Jester!Gojo who keeps the silly hat on whilst he's in you, making you giggle even harder at the sound of its bells. Jester!Gojo who whispers that he's gonna put an heir in you, if you'd like. And what a scandaI that would be...
@rosesforshoto saw your size kink blurb and went into a fugue state
“hate when guys say that ‘you can take it’ shit.” you’re just tipsy enough to admit this to shouto. even though you shouldn’t tell him, not when the breadth of his shoulders can be seen in your peripheral. he’s so big. heat rips across your face.
“why’s that?” shouto, polite and deadpan as always, no matter the subject matter.
“because they always just stick it in with minimal prep. expecting you to adjust.”
shouto crinkles his nose in disgust. he’s a lot more expressive these days, but that’s a new one.
he's silent for a while, and you briefly contemplate sinking into the floor.
"they're missing out," he finally says. when he catches your eye, he's smiling. one full of mischief, like he can't believe some men could truly be so stupid.
despite your protests, he tucks you to bed shortly after. you feel how intently his eyes watch you as he hands you a glass of water, swallowing the pills he keeps in the cabinet specifically so you don't feel like shit the next day.
he likes taking care of you, and you like letting him.
"night, sho."
when he's certain you're asleep, he responds.
"night, love."
he leaves you on the futon because it's the only thing he can do in good conscience. he wrenches the shower to the hottest setting. steam hot enough to peel paint fills the bathroom. water pours down his back as he brackets both arms on the wall.
he'd be so gentle with you. steadily working you open, keeping you preoccupied with kisses. fuck, he wants to kiss you so badly. he wants to feel you cum around one finger while you gasp and keen in his mouth.
you'd need at least four orgasms before he felt comfortable with you taking him. maybe even five. his hands twists around the head of his cock. one more stroke and he'll be painting the wall. shouto squeezes his balls, groaning into the crook of his elbow and the shower wall. they're full and tight, aching at the slightest touch.
he'll give you six, he decides. his fist works harder. six orgasms with his tongue, his hands, his mouth.
and then he'll be able to work you down onto his cock, inch by inch, until all doubts of "taking him" are dispelled from your mind.
Synopsis. On campus? Choso Kamo’s the sweet, shy nerd you share film class with - the one who can barely meet your eyes without blushing. Online? Choso Kamo is really @cursed(your)wombz—the #1 streamer on C4mBoyfriends with 820k followers to see his…nine inches. And he might just be looking for a partner.
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, streamer!Choso, (sort of) B́J Alex AU, cámboy!Choso, college AU, he’s a nerd, film nerd!Choso, secret identities, masks, píercings (ears, tóngue, D), tattoos, chat, streaming, you’re a fan, identity reveal, exhíbitíonism, oraI (fem rec.), again PlERCINGS, tongue f, spítting, p sIapping, p talking, letting the viewers choose, fíngering with rings, overstím, dúmbifícation, Jacob’s Ladder, rough s, fiIthy s, he’s sIightly mean, tummy buIges, making it fit, pressing down, talking you through it, cIit pinching, pússydrúnk Choso, matíng presses, chokíng, manhandIing, mocking, sIight níppIe stim, creampíes, chat Iove you, cúmpIay, getting together, Phantom of the Opera references, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 14.9k
A/N. Hehehehehe-
Sunday was the night you’d found him; sprawled out on your bed and thumbing through the Internet. Some glitzy pop song you couldn’t name blasted from your speakers, and the room was saturated in the tingly excitement of having speedy Wi-Fi, no assignments, and the night to yourself. LED lights pink.
You’re checking some of your messages - doling out a few hearts, a few reposts - when that bell-shaped button bursts in blue. A new notification.
@cursed(your)wombz liked your repost.
It was on a photograph of the Sun—big and yellow, seemingly melting over a grey horizon.
Which was perfectly ordinary- this was the Internet, after all. And though your list of followers was modest, of course you’d interact with a stranger here and there.
The problem was in the way the notification disappeared as soon as it came.
An…accident maybe? This person had liked and unliked your repost. And without a second thought, you’re typing their username into the search bar.
And clicking on their profile.
@cursed(your)wombz huh?
He had a pitch-black profile picture and a layout with nothing of note, a banner as equally colorless and unnotable, and a simple bio stating:
I know what you want…
- C.
And beneath that was a link.
It stood out stark against the black background. You don’t click on it, of course- for fear of being something malicious, you’re avoiding it like you’d avoid a minefield.
You’ve already heard one too many horror stories on here about such things. One click and you’d find your address posted somewhere. Instead, your eyes drop to the number of followers he had…and your eyebrows are immediately shooting up.
0 Following.
581k Followers.
Now that makes you blink.
Okay- alright, maybe it wasn’t the most astounding number you’ve ever seen throughout your expansive time on the Internet - but it was still niche celebrity-status. Especially on this app. Especially to be stalking an account like yours…where all you did was repost the stray picture of a pretty landscape or yell into the aether about your missing assignments for your friends to comment on.
Now that was a little strange.
And so you’re scrolling down.
And you never quite know what you’re in for whenever you enter the realm of a person’s account—fanfiction with tags you never knew existed, one part of an argument on social media that really shouldn’t exist, mpreg.
Which was all fine and dandy to be quite honest- you just never expect to be met with the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on.
The first picture you’re seeing- pinned.
Posted just an hour ago. It’s a mirror selfie taken at a low angle; of a man with his body angled towards the lens and his phone covering his face. In nothing but a towel. With nothing but his chiselled body. His beefy arms flexed as he takes the picture, biceps rippled with a few veins—though still lean and almost smooth to the touch. Pierced nipples. Defined abs. Your eyes linger on the sparse dusting of dark hair leading below, below, below his fluffy white towel…
The picture cuts off just a few inches past his navel. You know because you’re enlarging it.
The photo is almost vampiric in nature.
Somehow.
Dimly-lit. Beautiful—he clearly knew his angles and lighting. It’s slightly blurry and you can’t make out much of the man’s features - nothing more than the slender length of his fingers, silver rings, and the outline of his dark (perhaps brown?) hair. Touching his shoulders. From just above the hem of his towel, the amorphous blur of a tattoo snakes down his left v-line - and no matter how much you’re zooming in, you can’t quite figure out what it is.
Something twists at the pit of your stomach as you’re latching your eyes onto the very obvious bulge he was sporting through the towel - very.
The flash created a shadow of his lengthy cock—oh. Hanging between thick thighs, heavy and needy. And it also illuminated the slight dampness clinging onto his body; perhaps he’d just gotten out of the shower, or was about to take on after a workout.
Whichever scenario it was, both made your thighs clench- fuck.
Fingers slightly shaky, you’re exiting out of the picture and scrolling down for more.
The next post is a video seemingly taken from the very same instance: it was from the point of view of the beautiful man. Facing downwards, as he zoomed the camera in on his bulge and ran one vein-covered, ringed hand down his abs- down his pelvis- down to that throbbing erection and squeezed himself through his towel.
And then through your speakers echoes out the most pornographic moan.
Thank goodness your dorm had thick walls.
And that’s when you decide that you’ve seen enough.
Not enough as in enough enough to block this strange man and move on with your life- of course, not. As quickly as your fingers would possibly let you, you’re exiting out of the video and scrolling up to a bio that seemed to have more to hide than the first time you read through it.
The link stands mockingly stark - almost winking at you - against the dark background. You think you know what it is.
And you click on it.
Suddenly, your laptop screen’s flooding with a gaudy pink color. A loading circle swivels in the middle of it for a few seconds, before you’re met with a logo in swooping, slanted black script: C4mBoyfriends. Better than that boy in your dms.
Rapidly, you’re opening up a new tab and typing in the name.
“C4mBoyfriends is an adult streaming platform that hosts webcam performers that choose to label themselves as male. Here they can stream live video, post photographs, and interact on forums with a wide array of paying viewers—for a range of content catering to specific niches or sexual roleplays. C4mBoyfriends, since its recent launch, has shot up in the industry as one of the most-visited adult sites and the safest for its performers. All cuts go to the performers themselves and the site runs on separate donations from its audience.”
Ah- you’d guessed right.
Excitement burbles at the pit of your stomach for a few seconds. You’re clicking back onto the tab with the pink logo, and finding that it’d stopped loading.
It was in the layout of a streaming device, with static images of ongoing streams on one side of the platform, and different pages listed out on top. But what took up the majority of your screen was the vision of the very same man from before- from the mirror selfie, from the video.
This time, it was a stream.
@cursed(your)wombz is streaming—#1 streamer on C4mBoyfriends [101 week streak]. [Only solo]. Your internet boyfriend <3
0 Subscribed.
820k Subscribers.
455k Currently watching.
This time, he had his towel lifted up and his hands fisted around his fat cock.
Perfectly angled.
Your jaw drops. He was about eight- maybe more inches, though you weren’t in the state to count. Way too entranced by the way his veiny, ring-decorated hands were wrapped around his cock. Large. He was just so loooong and standing tall between wide-spread legs, shiverin’ every time he’s gliding his hand up and down. Up and down.
Again and again.
Getting faster by the second before he arches-
The edge of his thumb’s reaching for his ruby-red crown—then smearing the glistening liquid that just kept on foaming from the top. He lathers it upon his palm and drags it down his hot erection, making every inch gleam underneath the off-camera lighting.
You’re clicking on a button to increase your volume.
And just in time, too, because then he snakes his left hand down and squeezes his heavy balls- letting out a botched groan that leaves your shorts oh-so-wet.
Deep and guttural; there’s a slight quiver in them as he whispers. “F-fuck.” Just so full and sensitive—the man’s head tips backwards and his hips buck off the cushioned chair. Sluttily. As though he was fucking something invisible. It’s creaking ever-so-slightly as he settles back down, composing himself just a little bit before he starts cumming.
Pearly white droplets of cum.
Beading from the very top of his shaft - where he was the most pink n’ angry - shaking as he empties out. Globs of it start to glide down his length, and a few more collect where his silver Prince Albert’s piercing was positioned right beneath his mushroomy tip.
You’re just letting your eyes linger upon that little heap of satiny sap, when the man thumbs upwards and smears that, too. Such a mess.
And you think that might be all- but then he’s reaching his non-dominant hand upwards and pressing down on his frothing cockhead. Stopping himself from cumming - and as he leans to the side, you swear you’re glimpsing the twinkle of even more piercings on the upper side of his shaft. Was that…a Jacob’s ladder?
You’re rendered so damn speechless that you almost don’t register him speaking- “Awwww, did my pretty sluts wanna watch me cum?”
A shiver runs down your spine at the hitched tone of his voice- drunk on lust. He’s slightly slurring. So alluring, you almost catch yourself nodding.
“Well, too bad.” The man meanly snickers, before he’s suddenly reaching out with his non-dominant hand and angling it higher. The screen shifts to display that very same mouth-watering body from the picture—though, this time with the addition of a black-and-white mask that covered his features from forehead to his sharp jawline.
The only opening in it was a concave cutout for his mouth - almost reminiscent of a Phantom of the Opera mask. In the background was a clearly expensive bedroom of a clearly expensive home - far different from your single dorm - an artwork that you couldn’t name on the wall behind him. Something like a photograph or a portrait. Something about it was so precise- so cinematic. Like watching a movie scene. He continues, “Because you know why? You don’t deserve it.”
There’s a flurry of comments on one side of the screen, so fast that you wonder how he reads it.
“Didn’t I tell you to spam me with your nastiest stories in the chat?” He asks, and from beneath his mask you catch the outline of dark eyes shifting down those hurried words. Those needy comments. “None of you are nasty enough, so none of you get to see me cum…”
You’re tearing your eyes off of him to peruse what they were saying.
@girrrrrrrrrrth: nuuuuuu please, curse! i’ll get on my knees!!
@vampzo333: me too ME TOO
@likezmenpregnant: My story about the body pillow wasn’t nasty enough? TT
@CCpervnextdoor: AWWWW I’m begging~
@Curse’swifey: I’LL PAY YOU EXTRA PLEASEEEEEEE
@Curse’swifey donated 500 cherries.
“Tch- what a desperate bunch. Just fucking look at yourselves…” And though his words weren’t in the least bit nice, you couldn’t deny just how badly he made your cunt twinge.
Curse…that’s what his name was, huh?
You’re squeezing your thighs together- your sleep shorts were definitely soaked.
Curse rolls out the kinks in his neck just a little, and stares down at the camera with a crooked grin. “But that’s not gonna be enough. I said to be nasty- so be nasty.” The active chat becomes nothing but a blur once more: pleas, donations, stories half-typed in their urgency. “And in return I’ll moan whatever name you want me to moan when I cum.”
Before you know it, you’re opening up the sign-up page in a new tab.
Keeping Curse’s livestream playing in the background as you zip through your details. You’re picking out a username for yourself: Ietsmakeamovie and hastily going back to the ongoing stream with your newfound handle. Was it too obvious to make it the same username as your other account? The one that he had stalked?
Fuck- you’re too wound up to think of something else at this point. You decide that you’ll change it later…
Luckily, Curse’s stream didn’t have a paying threshold before you could comment. And you’re jittery with excitement as you pull the laptop closer to yourself and start typing out something—hitting send before you could overthink it.
@Ietsmakeamovie: Seeing you is the first time I’ve gotten this wet.
Curse’s eyes drift down the chat, and he seems to latch onto something. Eyes widening just a fraction.
“The first time?”
Fuck.
You’re feeling a jolt at the way he addresses you - never expecting him to pick out that comment amongst tens of thousands of others that were uttering even filthier things. Curse leans in and speaks with his deep tone, “Those other boys didn’t know how to treat a perfect pussy like yours, huh? This is why they call me the Internet boyfriend, baby.”
@Ietsmakeamovie: Yeah.
@Ietsmakeamovie: Fuck, you’re so hot.
@Ietsmakeamovie: I don’t even wanna look away to touch myself.
You feel embarrassed typing it all out - but you console yourself with the notion that no one here knows who you are. And you don’t know anyone here, either.
Curse leans back and starts pumping his cock even harder—taking his left hand off the drivelling top. His milky-white precum is frenzied n’ sticks to his hand like glue, and the chat grows more and more excited as Curse’s actions do the same.
“That’s alright, baby, you don’t have to finger yourself.” He chuckles, eyes locked on the comments. “I’d be doing that for you if I was there.”
@Ietsmakeamovie: Wish you were. You’d reach so much deeper.
@Ietsmakeamovie donated 1000 cherries.
“Fuh-fuck—” He hisses, head throwing back in his chair. You take the time to admire the lines of his prominent Adam’s apple - the way it bobs every time he’s taking a shaky swallow. “No need to donate or anything, baby, just keep- ngh, talking t’me like this and that’s enough…”
@0003h0lesforCurse: holy shit. i’ve never seen him like this.
@CCpervnextdoor: Needy Curse I like it~
@bewbsRlife: KEEP GOING OP KEEP GOING!!
You giggle to yourself.
@Ietsmakeamovie: Enough to make you cum, Curse?
“Greedy, greedy girl…” Through the slightest gaps in his mask you’re catching the way his nose crinkles in amusement. A wolfish smile. “S’that what you all want?”
The chat explodes in agreement.
He cocks his head, “Movie?”
Was that your new nickname now? Hastily, you reply-
@Ietsmakeamovie: Mhm.
“Well then…” He grins, toned body arching off the chair. “Get ready for a show—” Darkened gaze narrowing at the comments, “And you better not take your eyes off of me for a single second- hump your damn pillows if you have to. I don’t care.”
Quickly grabbing your own puffy pillow, you’re stuffing it between your legs.
Right as Curse lets his head loll backwards- and his cum drizzles out of his cock. He’s been edging the poor viewers and overstimulatin’ himself for so fucking long now—all it takes is a few pumps to let the cascade of white coat his hands and his rings. Just the slightest bit of silver peaking through.
Hard and fast.
The man’s cockhead flushes even redder as he drags his high out deliciously. Every burst of dopamine. Every heaving pant. Every pretty moan escaping him.
It seems to be ramming into him in waves- gooey ribbons of seed coat his digits. Getting smeared like a gloss across eeeeevery single inch, ridge, and vein—and since Curse’s pace was something furious, a few globs of cum splatter across the towel and onto his thighs. A mess that he’s seeming to love.
Because in the next few seconds, he’s wrung out just the final bits of pleasure in him- and is raising his cum-coated fingers up to his mouth and sucking. Staring straight into the camera lens as he does so.
You’re watching slack-jawed as those long, lacquered digits disappear between his lips. Finishin’ them off squeaky clean and letting his head tip to the side.
He mouths, “Movie—”
Part of your username.
Though you hadn’t asked for him to moan your name, as he’d promised to do to one of the viewers had they been nasty enough. And this special treatment…
Maybe he did it to every new viewer. Maybe he just liked how much you complimented him- though everyone else did, too. Either way, it’s perhaps what sets off the bursts of electricity between your legs—and soon enough you’re hurtling into a high you hadn’t even realized had been building up and up and up.
Your lashes flutter shut as the orgasm overtakes you.
Hips ruttin’ away into the plushness of your pillow- you wonder just how much better riding him would be…
And that’s setting off a whole new layer of dopamine at your core, your cunt quiverin’ as white-hot pleasure makes your heartbeat throb in your ears. Chest pounding. Breaths heavy.
By the time you’ve finished pushing through your high, you’re coming to find that Curse had somewhat cleaned himself up with the towel and was bantering back n’ forth with the chat. He rests his head on one hand and sweeps his eyes down the usernames, “What happened to dear Movie, huh?” Curse pretends to pout. “The first stream wasn’t too much for her, right?”
@girrrrrrrrrrth: kekekeke you’re too freaky, curse!!
@CCpervnextdoor: So dirty~
@daddytoeknee: Must thank Movie for the show though…
Urgently, you’re gathering yourself and tapping a few buttons on-screen.
@Ietsmakeamovie subscribed to @cursed(your)wombz.
@Ietsmakeamovie donated 2500 cherries.
@Ietsmakeamovie: It’d never be too much.
“Ahhh, there you are.” Such a beautiful smile smears across his face, and Curse’s leaning in to take a closer look at the comments. “And thank you for subscribing, same time tomorrow?”
You’re unsure whether that was directed at you or everyone viewing- but you’re chiming in agreement alongside the rest of the comments. And Curse reads through them, lingering for just a little while longer before he grins.
“Heh- bye, sluts.”
And he covers the camera, the stream cuts off.
Yet your heart still thunders.
Ignoring the time at the bottom of your laptop screen, you’re then clicking on his profile and scrolling through what other videos he had…
.
.
.
It was your fault that you kept dozing off.
Honestly.
You should have known better- and you know that you should’ve known better…but you couldn’t help yourself. After Curse’s initial stream, you spent some time browsing through the numerous photographs and short clips that he’d posted; there were even some saved streams that were each dirtier than the last—each with his attractive mask and his even more attractive voice, his sensual cock getting pumped over and over for the audiences.
And so you’d left a few comments, a few hearts.
Throughout all of them, you made the peculiar discovery that they were all more high-quality than the last. The standard of being the #1 on the site, you guess. But the lighting and angles were all just so perfect…
You’d watched them for just a little while- at least, what you’d thought was a little while. Because by the time you’re realizing that your laptop battery was dying, and your eyes were tired, you’re turning your head in the direction of the dorm windows and- fuck.
Why was the Sun coming up?
And so you’d rushed to get at least half an hour of sleep before you had to get up for your 8AM lecture.
Professor Yaga taught Film 101 as though he was trying to scare everyone off it. Rigorous coursework and never-altered deadlines. Though you yourself wouldn’t consider him an unreasonable man, it was impertinent to be punctual and alert in his classes - and right now, you were feeling neither of those.
By the grace of the universe, you’re somehow managing to stumble into class just two minutes after it starts. It’s not enough to rouse Yaga’s anger - and either way, you had made a name for yourself as one of his most avid students - though it does get you a sternly raised brow as you apologize and take the nearest open seat.
Just-so-happening to be in the very last row.
At the very forgotten corner.
Right beside who you knew to be Yaga’s actually most avid student—Choso Kamo.
Had it been a race between the two of you - perhaps between the entire department - Choso would have finished five times before anyone’s even stepping past the finish line. You would’ve gotten second. And that wasn’t to diminish your abilities in any way - you’d long since proven yourself to be one of the best students this course had even seen - it’s just…Choso was a film nerd through and through.
If there was anyone that could live up to such a title, then it was him.
Choso lived, slept, and breathed film and television. He could name any television show around the world with just a single frame, and most he could recite line-for-line. Oh, that? He learned Korean just to immerse himself in that scene in Parasite. That scene? It was from the 1957 Sri Lankan film Amba Yahaluwo, by the way did you know that Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was filmed there, too?
Knitted vest. Hair in two messy space buns.
Clunky glasses rested atop his nosebridge, and dark bangs covering most of his vision, you’d often see him tottering around campus with a column of books that was damn-near taller than him. And despite his towering demeanour - from your mental counting, Choso was around 6’2 or more - around most of the student body, he was the type that couldn’t meet your eyes no matter how many classes you shared with him.
Even now, as you seated right next to him and smiled- Choso softly yelps and turns away from.
You don’t take it personally, of course, as he was simply the shy type. And by the flush that rises to his high cheekbones, you know he - at the very least - doesn’t dislike you.
Situating yourself, you’re opening your bag and pulling out your laptop. Opening it- fuck.
The briefest flash of one of Curses’s previous streams—where he had his cock in his hands and his face contorted mid-ecstasy flashes across your screen. And you can’t slam your laptop shut fast enough- cracking it just the slightest bit to exit out of the numerous tabs, fingers nothing but a blur. Thank fuck your volume hadn’t been set on high.
Head ducked, you’re looking out from the corner of your eye to check whether Choso had seen anything.
But if he did, he shows no indication.
Only keeping his back ramrod straight- his gaze ahead- his flush fiery as he listens to whatever Yaga was saying.
And so you think you’re in the clear…for now…
Opening your laptop up once more, you’re logging onto your lecture platforms and attempting to forget about last night. Which was difficult when that smile upon Curse’s face, just beneath his mask - was the only thing running through your mind.
And before you know it, you’d been staring blankly at your screen for a few seconds—before Choso inches in just a centimeter closer. Unwilling to let himself take up even more space. He keeps his eyes trained ahead and his voice - fuck, you’d never heard his voice before but it was just so deep and measured, something you wouldn’t have expected out of him - low.
Whispering to you, “H-he’s on Chapter 18 of Stone Butch Blues, we’re about to write a screenplay for the zoo scene.”
“Ah…” You don’t know whether you’re more surprised at the timbre of his voice or the way he managed a proper sentence out to you. All your previous attempts at conversation throughout the semester had been futile—and you’d long resigned yourself to the idea that he was too nervous to ever talk to you. “Th-thank you.”
He doesn’t answer but nods in shy acknowledgement.
And as you’re opening up your file, you bask in the realization that Choso Kamo was actually hot underneath those glasses. If only you could see his features further…
Maybe you’re being a little delirious. Your eyes feel heavy.
Heavy.
Heavier.
Tap-tap-tap.
A shake.
Tap-tap-tap-tap.
A warm hand on your shoulder, by the time you’re opening your eyes- you’re looking up into even warmer, molten chocolate-colored ones. They were framed by fawny eyelashes and thick glasses that made his shy gaze seem ever-so-slightly amplified.
You think you’re stunned for a few seconds before Choso speaks, “U-um…class is over.”
“Oh.” That makes you dart your head up and look around, noticing that most of the students had filtered in or were in the process of already doing so. “Oh, shit-”
You’d seriously slept through all that?
And Yaga had left you alive?!
No, you weren’t going to question this act of mercy—thank goodness for the last row, because he likely hadn’t been able to see you. Shooting upright, you’re grabbing all your things and hoping you hadn’t snored next to the sweet boy - “Thank you so much for waking me.” You’re turning towards him and saying, earnestness seeping into your tone. “Knowing me, I would’ve slept right through till next class. Might actually have been more convenient.”
He startles into a laugh then raises a hand up to his mouth and quietens himself down, “It’s alright.” You’re staring closely at the little bells of laughter, and he turns his eyes downwards. Bashfully admitting, “Happens to me too, whenever I stay up um- studying. Long night?”
You sigh, “You could say that…” Not a long night studying, but…
And as the conversation quietens down and Choso worries down on his bottom lip, you’re hiking your backpack up on your shoulders and saying. “Well, I guess I should be going then. Catch up on the recordings of the lecture and everything-” Turning, “See you ‘round—and thanks again.”
You make all of five steps before Choso finally gathers up the courage to call out-
“Wait—!”
Confused, you’re facing him once more. “Yes?”
And his hand was out, his fingers were slightly trembling. He was mouthing out the words as though still debating whether to speak them into existence - whether he was capable of. “I…we-” Eventually mustering up the courage once you give a reassuring nod, “When will we meet up?”
That makes you pause.
Was he…
“F-for the assignment.” Choso clarifies, a flush rising to his cheeks as he likely realizes he should’ve led with that. “Professor Yaga’s mid-semester project he always does…”
Ah—you’re clapping a palm on your forehead. How could you have forgotten? Yaga had announced at the start of the semester that about halfway through, the class would be paired up or put into groups to work on a collaborative project that contributed to about 50% of your grade. This semester, it was to write a full-length movie screenplay for a book or musical of your choice. And you’d been excited for it, in fact, but after the…activities of last night it’d completely slipped your mind that he’d be delving more into it this lecture.
And the poor boy stumbles through his explanation, “H-he let everyone choose their partners, and I wanted to wake you up but…you just looked so peaceful.” He fidgets with his fingers and flushes, “I th-thought one of your friends would come up here and choose you but-”
Probing him gently, “But?”
“B-but I’m afraid you ended up paired with me.” Choso just looks so genuinely apologetic- “I’m sorry- no one picked me either. I should’ve woken you up, but we can go talk with Professor Yaga about changing partners if you’d like-”
“Hey—wait.” You’re cutting off his spiel, something in your chest aching at the utterly devastated furrow between his brows. You take a step closer to him, “I would love to do the project with you, Choso. No need to talk to Yaga about anything.”
He looks up at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. “B-but your friends…”
“I don’t really have close friends in this class, anyway.” You smile, “I’d much rather do it with you.”
“Really—?” Breathed. As if he couldn’t believe it.
And it’s after some time - and a deep inhale - that he speaks again. Finally sinking in that someone would choose him of all people—that you would, that he speaks again. “And um- would you like to work on the script at my place?” Before you can answer, his breath hitches and his head shoots up. “N-not that I’m pressuring you into…it’s nothing weird, I promise! We can meet anywhere else you like- the library, your place- wait, no that’s weird, too…”
“Choso- Choso.” You giggle. And if this was anyone else then you would’ve assumed that they were putting the moves on you. “I’m okay with your place.”
.
.
.
The apartment was a fair distance away from the campus dorms.
Which made sense, you suppose, given the fact that less than half the people there would be able to afford the rent on such a place—especially after tuition. The highrise dove into the clouds, its vermicular body scaled in glistening windows and gold-accented furnishings within. You got the distinct feeling of being swallowed whole as you entered through the widely-gaped entrance, with several doormen and security that eyed you up and down, bowed at Choso.
You thanked them and made your way - slightly speechless - through the hallways.
This was everything you could ever dream of, and you’re sure you spot the odd actor or two down in the lobby. As you’re getting into an elevator the size of your entire dorm room, Choso punches in one of the highest floor numbers and turns to you-
Throughout the bus ride here, you’d been the one chattering away. And so it surprises you once he finally speaks, “I-I’m sorry…my place is a bit of a mess.”
“Can’t be as bad as mine. I won’t judge.” Who cares about a mess when he lives in a place like this? You couldn’t wait to go inside…
He pushes his chunky glasses upwards and gives you a shy smile, “Thank you.” Looking down at his polished shoes, “You’re so sweet.”
“Thank you.”
And you rise upwards in silence.
Soon enough, you’re finding yourself being led up to his massive apartment. He’s punching in the numbers of the code and setting his backpack down—telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you shuffle inside awkwardly; past the lavish furnishings and the alien-shaped lamps that all rich places seemed to boast.
He leads you in the direction of the master bedroom - where Choso said that his film collection was vast and likely to reveal techniques that the two of you would be able to incorporate into your own script.
“I even have a copy of Momijigari- it’s one of my most prized possessions.” He shoots you such a charming smile, eyes twinkling behind his glasses, over his shoulder. Heading inside.
And you can’t help but follow.
A single step inside his not-so-humble abode and you’re feeling a sudden sense of déjà vu wash over you, rendering you unsteady on your feet. Not quite sure why, you’re sweeping your eyes around the space: the high-quality camera equipment in one corner (not unusual to see for a film student), the chic furnishings, and then over to the empty wall space above the king-sized bed, something in you remained dissatisfied as they find nothing there but white plaster.
Choso notices that you’ve stalled behind and looks over at you curiously—he was taking a seat on the carpet, laptop opened up on top of the coffee table. “Something wrong? I’m sorry, I know it’s really messy but-”
“No, you’re good.” You shake your head, “It’s actually not messy enough.”
He smiles.
That night, you went home and wondered why Choso’s smile looked so familiar.
.
.
.
The musical that you’d chosen for your ‘adaptation’ was The Phantom of the Opera, suggested by you, of course.
And if there had been any connection to the masked man you’d been watching the night prior, then you were just glad that Choso had no idea.
It was far easier, given the fact that it’d already been adapted from the initial novel—though that only meant that Yaga would be critiquing yours even harder.
So you had to strive to be more cinematic, than the others in your class, stronger in ways than the ones before you - and though you doubt you’d ever match up to Schumacher’s visuals, there was little doubt as to whether you’d be the best amongst the students. This was a screenplay made to impress, and in the week since you’d pored over it—and Choso Kamo’s mahogany coffee table typing away at it, you only grew more determined in the fact. And throughout the week, you’ve been flitting in and out of that very apartment of his.
Choso had been a lovely partner for the project - the best you could’ve ever asked for - and you’re coming to find that he was actually far more funny than anyone ever gave him credit for. Far more open. Far more active when it came to something he was passionate about.
And of course, you knew that he’d be sweet.
Despite his initial insistence that he could do the project himself, you’d taken up half the work. And you’d joined him in browsing through his massive catalogue of movies, in searching up screenplays to read, and in annotating them for techniques when starting to write yours.
You’ve come to make friends with one of the doormen by now.
Just today you’d watched the 2004 Phantom of the Opera adaptation. And after a few hours of occupying his space and getting to know the nerdy boy a little better, you’d go straight back home to…Curse.
Whenever Choso made you feel tingly with his sweetness, Curse would amplify that heat to right between your legs.
It’s been a week of getting to know Choso Kamo, and a week of having Curse splashed across your laptop screen—cock furiously hard n’ his moans echoing. He’d smile and utter your username whilst wearing his iconic mask and it’d be a high strong enough to follow into the day after. And often Choso would ask you what you’re so happy about.
Today, in particular, Curse had just finished one of his streams - cumming aaaaaall over the desk this time - when he’d settled himself back down and started chatting with the comments. Responding to one or two of yours.
You’re just about to joke about why he was sticking so long after his orgasm when he speaks once more-
Voice somewhat serious, “Alright, now…settle down, settle down.” Curse waves his hand airily at the camera, throwing a middle finger up when the chat only gets more frenzied. “Tch- what brats you all are, would you wanna roleplay that someday?”
@vampzo333: YES PLEASE.
@likezmenpregnant: How about you be the brat…?
@Ietsmakeamovie: I would like that.
@sixeyesorsixh0les: ^^
@0003h0lesforCurse: ^
“Fine fine…” Underneath the mask, he rolls his eyes fondly. “But I really do have something to announce-”
@likezmenpregnant: You’re pregnant.
@Ietsmakeamovie: I’m the father-
@Curse’swifey: NO MEEEEEEEEEEE!!
“I’m thinking of getting a partner for these streams.” He finally admits, rubbing his chin as though still in thought. And your heart stops-
@bipplruletheworld: so down.
@Cursenoticeme44: Omg yeeeeeeeeees!!
@daddytoeknee: YESYESYES.
The chat practically explodes, and you’re unsure what to feel about it—after all, you don’t know Curse and it’d be strange to feel a little possessive over his solo streams, however, you did have your preferences. But then again, you can’t help but imagine just how much hotter it would be to have two people- perhaps to see him make expressions he never has before…
Ultimately, you’re quiet as Curse leans in and scans the chat. His brows furrow just a little as he sweeps through the blurring usernames, “I dunno…I’m still thinking about it- I haven’t even asked this person, to be honest. I just wanted to know what you guys thought.” Nodding his head along or huffing out laughter at some of the comments, “Movie?”
You jolt—at being called out.
He wanted your opinion specifically? You suppose you did contribute to about half his comment section most streams.
But you stall as your fingers reach for the keyboard.
Biting down on your lip and contemplating for a little while. Though he waits as patiently as ever-
@Ietsmakeamovie: I don’t mind!!
Something seems to wash over him as he reads your comment, nodding. “I see.”
He moves onto something else and his expression was indiscernible.
You’re flickering your eyes to the artwork behind him, the small corner of it peaking into the frame, and it suddenly hits you that it’s the theatrical poster of The Phantom of the Opera (2004).
.
.
.
It can’t be.
It can’t be.
It can’t be.
There’s something your brain was telling you that you’re absolutely refusing to believe—after all, how many people in the world loved The Phantom of the Opera? Hell, how many people in the world have watched The Phantom of the Opera?
That didn’t mean that everyone you came across had a secret identity as one of the hottest streamers on C4mBoyfriends.
You were being paranoid, you told yourself. You were being utterly silly- and the next time you’re going over to Choso’s apartment was the very next day. Which wasn’t entirely ideal, given how much you’d tossed and turned after Curse’s last stream conjuring up all the possibilities…but Yaga wouldn’t accept a request for an extension even if you were set on fire in front of him. And so you went.
The pit of your stomach twists as Choso swings the lavish wooden door open and gives you a beaming smile. So innocent. So sweet.
He shakily pushes his glasses up as he welcomes you in. “Come in—s-sorry if I took a while to get to the door, I’ve been doing some decorating recently.”
His nervous smile is what makes you find your voice. And you’re dubiously looking around the luxurious apartment, “You need to do some decorating?”
“Believe it or not, yes.” Choso huffs. “Would you like something to drink? Or maybe to eat? I checked out that bakery you recommended last time and you’re right- they have the best Danish pastries.”
“Actually, Choso…” You’re shaking your head, shooting him a grateful smile. “I’m good. I’d think I’d prefer to start right away, if that’s alright? I really wanna get to Act 2 today.”
“O-oh, of course—!”
And he’s sweetly guiding you inside, whilst you attempt not to look like you’re taking two steps at a time. Back to that familiar room. Back to that familiar desk. Back to that (somewhat) familiar bed which most certainly did not have an artwork from The Phantom of the Opera on it—
You open the door and the first thing you’re seeing is the familiar plane of that white mask. The Phantom.
Choso follows behind you and catches you staring at the poster. Gravelly tone echoing from behind, “I told you I did some decorating.”
And you jump-
Swivelling around to find him bearing you a sheepish smile, “Sorry if I startled you.” He pushes those chunky glasses up, “Tea?”
“S-sure…” You breathe, if anything for a thing to occupy your mouth with. Wait- not like that—!
And as Choso disappears down the hall, you’re taking a seat on the bed you’ve sat on countless, countless times before without a single care in the world. Now you’re sinking into the very - the very - edge as though it’d swallow you whole.
Body just resting on the plush comforter before-
“Hey, so I also have coffee if you would prefer?” Comes Choso’s sudden voice.
And you’re startling once more- “Just tea is fine, thanks.” Barely managing to get that through your lips, you’re watching as he disappears…as the sound of his footsteps echo…
Before darting off the bed and now heading towards the camera equipment you’d noticed in the corner the first time you’d been here. What you’d assumed to be part of another one of his classes or personal projects. Now, you’re leaning in and wondering with just which camera he showed his pretty cock off to millions, at just what height of his tripod he made your cunt so heated.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck this was real.
Now, you’re noticing things in the room that you’d never noticed before. Like the ring light kept underneath his bed, and the dresser in the corner with numerous rings- those weren’t costume props or anything. They were pure silver.
Heavy.
Heavy, like the pit in your stomach—excited and swirling. Just trembling at the tips of your fingers - ever-so-slightly - you’re reaching out as though to touch it, as though to feel the alternate version of Choso that you knew longer than you knew Choso-
“Ah, so you’ve realized.”
And then his voice permeates the room.
The room that suddenly seems smaller, the room that suddenly seems to rise ten degrees in temperature - though goosebumps skitter across your skin. And almost as though in a horror movie, you’re turning in slow motion to face the bespectacled man who was now holding up a tray of steaming hot tea.
He walks over soundlessly and sets it on the coffee table with a slight click! And besides that, Choso walks over to the dressing table and puts his silver rings on.
One by one.
His eyes hold court with yours through the mirror, “How long?” Voice a deep timbre.
You’re taking a step closer without even realizing, “Um…just last night. Just now- actually.”
He chuckles and you realize he’s asking how long you’ve known about Curse.
“I-I found you by chance. About a week ago, actually…” And then you say what’s been on your mind ever since you had, “Ever since you liked and unliked my repost.”
“Ah, a rookie mistake.” Choso comments. “I should have known better than to stalk using my public account.” And with all rings now put on and glinting in the lighting of his bedroom, Choso shuffles through his jewellery tray to pluck his earrings in and one eyebrow piercing. And then…one lip piercing—a lip ring that twinkles mischievously as he smiles.
He rises and you think you’ve never quite appreciated his built frame.
His deep eyes as they’re locking in on you. Echoing out, “Though…you really can’t say much- can you, Movie?”
And though you knew that he knew- you can’t stop the zaps of electricity running through your body.
Sputtering out, “Yeah-” Your fists clench and you’re looking up at the object of both your fantasies and your secret interest these past few days - melded into one. “Yeah, I really can’t. Choso you’re so…”
“Different?” He fixes his glasses, “Though I really am shy, I can’t deny that- especially around you. But it helps to be a little more antisocial when I’m around idiots.”
He leans in closer- so close that his scorchin’ hot breath wafts across your features. You have no idea how you’d diminished such a distance so soon…
“And if my memory serves me right-” Choso taps on the edge of his chin, in mocking thought. “-I seem to remember that Movie agreed to have a partner on my stream.” You shiver. And he looks at you adoringly, “So how about it? Wanna make a movie, baby?”
You step a little closer.
“Only if I get to match wardrobes.”
He chuckles and picks you up to spin you around-
And then it’s getting to work. And then it’s shuffling through his closet to find a mask that matches his own.
He stretches on the rubber a bit and brings it to you—“I bought this one when I first started, but it ended up being too tight- I think it’d be just the one for you.”
It was. It fit perfectly.
And then he paces around the room and starts to set up- before Choso’s gaze catches you hovering around the bed, and then he’s clicking his tongue and forgoing the tripods altogether. With just the professional lights and the high-quality camera, Choso places the camera on top of the coffee table. Facing the foot of the bed - everything and anything could be seen.
Just with a few clicks he’s started the stream.
And with just a little nudge he’s urging you to sit next to him.
“Hello, my little sluts—” Choso- or should you say Curse croons towards the camera. On one of his monitors you can see him being projected there - waving, in his knitted vest that clashed with his mask. You stand off awkwardly out of sight from the camera. He smiles. “As you can see, things are a little different today…”
@girrrrrrrrrrth: uuuuuu change of angle!! change of angle!!
@bewbsRlife: ARE WE GETTING A SURPRISEEEEEEE??
@likezmenpregnant: Pls be pregnant, Curse <3
“No- no, I’m not pregnant.” He laughs, “But I have been thinking about what we talked about last night.”
@bipplruletheworld: omg this can’t be…
“And guess what? I did what you guys told me about- and I talked to her.”
@bipplruletheworld: yessssssss
@yoyoyoureinmypuss: I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE^^
@bewbsRlife: WOOOOOO-
@daddytoeknee: Omg where’s Movie, Ik she’d love this- heh. Imagine this WAS Movie though…
“So, my little sluts…” Choso announces, “I’d like to introduce you all to my new partner—” And he’s reaching out and clasping your wrist, looking up to check for reassurance before continuing. Miming whispering to the camera, “And this is her first time on stream, so be nice…”
You’re sheepishly walking into their view.
Slightly bowing your intrusion into the stream, “Th-thanks for having me?”
“Isn’t she cuuuuute?” He asks the commenters, and there’s a flurry of agreements. You’re even spotting a few questions about your name n’ interests, even kinks, amongst those - all of which Choso waves off with a laugh. “Now now—we can have the Q&A later. For now, let’s get to the fun part…”
@Curse’swifey: FUCK THAT’S MY FAV PART-
@2coolforcond0ms(i’mavirgin): Movie you’re missing out on a historic moment uwu
And the fun part consisted of clamoring onto the bed as fast as lightning. Letting the mattress dip n’ creak its protests out as Choso sits on it with his back turned to the camera, then lovingly pats his manspread thighs as a signal for you to climb on. Meaty muscles. Thick enough for you to want to sink your teeth into- how could you never have noticed?
Perhaps because this was the polar opposite of how he acted when he was on campus - always keeping to himself, never taking up too much space. Now he was practically vacuuming it all up so you had nowhere else to sit.
And you were more than happy to climb onto Choso Kamo’s lap.
Sitting your ass down on his readily-awaiting seat. From under your skirt you feel something hot—and throbbing between his legs. Cylindrically shaped and curved to the left.
Just the slightest movement makes his rock-hard erection twitch underneath- and you’re whimpering at the lewd sensation. At the way he drips out a hefty dollop of precum that seeps through his trousers and sticks to the front of your panties, making you gasp—“Ch-Cho-”
“Shhhh.” Choso wraps a hand ‘round your throat and cuts you off.
And before you know it, he’s bouncing his knees to get you to slide your drippin’ pussy up and down his bulge. Up and down. Turning towards the camera, “Ya hear that?” Up and down. “My girl’s so needy- she’s already begging for it. But I dunno if she deserves it, huh?”
@bewbsRlife: I MEANNNN
@theh0rniestsoldier: i’m feeling mean today…
@daddytoeknee: Give her your mouth!!
“Mouth? I love that idea.” Choso titters.
And then he’s giving a teasing slap on the side of your ass cheeks—smack!
“Please-”
“Sit on my face now, baby.” He purrs, eyes flickerin’ with pure need underneath his mask. Then leaning in to whisper in a loooow tone for only you to hear. “You know Choso, but let’s see if you can handle Curse.”
Then he leans back on the bed - his head pointing in the direction of the camera.
And you’re shuffling up Choso’s toned, brick-hard body—straddling your knees upon either side of his head, veerin’ your hips right atop that pretty face. You’re sitting - right in front of the camera. Though nothing was revealed…yet.
And Choso’s digging his tongue up to you instantly- he isn’t even making it past the fabric of your panties. But that doesn’t stop him from lettin’ his tastebuds take a looooong, luxurious lick of your swollen pussy.
Right down your sopping wet slit.
Suddenly, the room echoes with one of his pornographic moans- the very same ones you’d listened to night after night through your laptop speakers. Now they’re even louder, and somehow even sexier, sending electricity shooting straight up, up, up from your core.
And even more treacherous was the way you’re feeling something cold…and metallic at the very middle of Choso’s tongue. Rock-hard. It takes whatever’s left of your rationality to realize that it’s a silvery tongue piercing smack-dab where his tastebuds kissed your pussy. Scraping alongside where you were most sensitive.
Instantly; your head tips back and saliva starts bubbling at the sides of your lips. “Fuh-fuck…” And before you know it—you’re starting to drag your throbbing pussy up n’ down his features.
Short, barely-there jerks of your shy, shy hips.
And Choso chuckles huskily to himself at the cute way you were yearnin’ for his mouth. But what you didn’t expect was for him to reach one ringed hand up and squeeze the left side of your hips.
Your only warning.
Before he’s suddenly tightening his hold on you and reaching one more hand up- snaking it beneath your skirt like some pervert. Choso edges towards your throbbing cunt and places one good slap—
It’s the resounding smack! of skin-on-skin that makes you halt more than anything.
Jaw-dropped. Thighs quivering. The white-hot pleasure runs through your spine and leaves you barely hearing his roughened words, a tone lower than you knew his voice to be- as though drunk on the delicious taste of your pussy already. “Greedy, greedy girl…” Choso tuts, “Don’t tell me you’re trying to enjoy yourself without letting our dear audience in on the fun?”
Oh, shit.
You’re letting your head snap to where the camera was positioned and blinking its one gluttonous eye. Comments flooding the screen of the monitor so fast that you couldn’t read them-
You’d completely forgotten about the stream for a second.
“I—oh, I um.”
Yet another harsh smack! “Forgot, huh?” Amusement seeps into Choso’s words, as though he’d already guessed the situation.
You admit, “M-maybe…”
“I’m afraid I can’t blame you, baby.” Smack! “Curse’s mouth is too good, huh?” He yammers on and on, his tongue nudging deeper, his rippling tastebuds skidding into every ridge- as if trying to fuck you through your damn panties. “This pussy’s too good–she’s purring f’me already. Hear her?”
And you’re not sure why- but you’re nodding to whatever he says. “Y-yes—fuck.”
“Mhm. So why don’t we let our lovely audience hear, too, huh?” You’re barely given the time to register his suggestion, before Choso husks out a command. “Lift your skirt up, baby.”
Your thighs squeeze around his head at the notion-
And your fingertips touch the short hemline of your skirt.
@Cursenoticeme44: Holy shit.
@theh0rniestsoldier: i’ve been waiting for thisssssssssss-
@daddytoeknee: WOW.
@girrrrrrrrrrth: bby’s so needy!!
@R€4leater: munch Curse #canon
The chat explodes as you let them bear witness to Choso’s face stuffed between your pretty legs- he’s redly-flushed and ravenous. They could see the slightest glimpse of his nose n’ the way he’s driving it between your sodden pussylips, diving and diving, they could see the glossy layers coating your cunt—and the way Choso’s pink lips come up to suck on it.
Those handsome cheeks of his hollow out, as he’s makin’ out with your pussy through your panties.
Like a man starved.
Long canines slightly nippin’ at your folds- almost wolfish in mannerisms.
“Oh p-please…” You’re quivering atop him. You don’t even know what you’re begging for—just that it feels so good to have him veering his tongue hungrily against your cunt like this. And you wanted more.
More, more, and more.
Choso’s holding onto your restless hips with a clammy hand- he’s stuck to you almost like adhesive. And he guides your hips - he fucking slows them down - whilst you continue moanin’ and shaking atop his raw mouth. Glistening wet tongue extending even more than its usual length to slide-slide-sliiiiide your panties to the side-
And you’re gasping at the sudden whiff of cold bedroom air against your naked pussy. “Ch-” A spank. “I mean- fuck, Curse?”
“Mhm, m’here, baby.” He drawls out. Slightly slurring with all the extra globs of your pussy juices - pooling straight into your mouth, n’ Choso reaches up and smooches your soft swollen folds to smear it all around. Like some gloss. “M’here aaaaaand- so are 820k sluts that wanna watch you break.”
“B-break?” You’re gaping, “I thought you were just gonna- ngh, eat me out…?”
“Baby, Curse never ‘just’ does anything.” And you’re shocked to find him sliding his tongue out, tipping his head back to refer to the camera on the coffee table. “Isn’t that right, fuckin’ pervs?”
@daddytoeknee: Hell yeah.
@0003h0lesforCurse: duhhhhhhhhh
@yoyoyoureinmypuss: YOU’RE THE BEST CURSE
@Fishygurodad: Fuck, her pussy’s divine.
“Heh…” Choso smiles into your cunt, “And so whaddaya say? How many slaps before I stick my tongue in her?”
@vampzo333: 3
@bbynohuuuuzz: 14
@Ilikepr1menumbers: 29
“Since m’feeling nice- read your favorite one out, baby.” He murmurs.
To which you’re unable to do anything but- you tilt your upper half just the slightest bit closer to the monitor and pick out the first one you can read through the blur of words and numbers:
@Fishygurodad: Until she cries.
Oh.
Your blood runs cold.
Your cunt grows heated.
And before you can either rectify your recitation or beg for mercy—Choso doesn’t hesitate before fixing the rings on his fingers to be slightly higher than before. Making sure they’re in line of him planting one- two- three good, loud spanks on your sobbin’ cunt. “O-oh my god- fuck, mmm, oh my god.”
Until the skin of his fingertips seems to redden, and your pussylips feel raw - “How about that?” He asks- not from you, but from the viewers.
@daddytoeknee: I don’t see her crying yet…also idkkkkk I’m getting Movie vibes.
@girrrrrrrrrrth: movie would’ve loved this-
And then it’s one after the other. Again and again, Choso’s emblazoning the rude outlines of his rings against yours - until you’ve fucking memorized the ridges n’ patterns of the one ring on his middle finger with the carving of an octopus.
Tentacles flared out.
“Shit, not that damn ring again.”
And as he’s doing so he can’t help himself- fuck, he can’t heeeeelp himself. His canines dig into the sticky fabric of your underwear like a damn dog - and throughout the duration of what his hands were doing, you’re hearing the sharp riiiiip of fabric tearing—!
Soon enough, your panties are tattered and ruined in Choso’s maw- just from his mouth. He spits it out and continues swerving his thickened tips inwards to give a loving pinch on your clit—and you can’t help but burst into peals of shrill, needy cries. Both pain and pleasure mixing as he doles out a final swat-
Before Choso swipes your pussylips apart and spits- the glutinous glob of his saliva landing directly on your hole. He doesn’t give it the time to seep back out—instead, he’s surging up and shoving his face between your legs.
This time, without the barrier of your panties in the way.
@CCpervnextdoor: HE FUCKING RIPPED IT OFF WITH HIS MOUTH??
@bewbsRlife: HOLY SHIT CURSE-
@Fishygurodad: Shiiiiit, I’d do the same ngl.
And then Choso’s shoving his tongue inside and slurpin’ all around your wet hole like a damn animal…
In and out.
In and out.
Probin’ into slippery sweet spots.
Chin hitting the back of your slit. Plastic mask rubbing against your clit.
Choso’s pierced tongue was going absolutely fucking wild inside of you. He wastes no time before gripping either side of your cute hips and slammin’ your pussy down onto his mouth- hard and fast. The perverted nerd is slashing his tongue inwards, smearin’ apart your glue-covered folds. As deep as he could go. He doesn’t care if it hurts, he just needs to make sure that loooong slick muscle of his tastebuds were scrapin’ every inch of your walls.
With the curved tip of it, he flexes it against a sweet bundle of nerves. Making you buck with a pitchy moan of his name—“Ch-Cuuuurse—!” And the sensation was made even more delicious with the way his orb tongue piercing presses in contrast against your hot cunt. “It feels so good, Curse.”
“I already know.” Choso pipes up- cocky in all the ways you never knew he could be. “I already know- but what about those fuckers watching, huh?”
“W-well…” Spit drivels down your chin, and you’re struggling to keep your eyes focused to read the urgent chat.
@bipplruletheworld: they’re so HOT!!
@NERDSAREMYBABYGIRLZ: OHHHH WHAT A MUNCH
@daddytoeknee: Me next <3
And it was clear that they were seeing the effect he had on you- how could they not?
Your eyes were dazed and teary, your thighs were shaking like leaves in the wind, Choso was making your body twitch—just from the way he’s reeling his entire tongue out. And breathing out steadily and slowly against your twitchin’ pussylips, freezing cold air that leaves you even wetter on top of him.
He’s unfastening his mouth - leaving it wiiiiide open for all the satiny ribbons of your slick to enter his gullet. And once you’re done- that isn’t enough riling you up.
Choso leaves a good slap on your folds and asks, “So…what about it?” Muffled through his mouthfuls.
“They agree- they agree—” You’re keening out. Star-struck, seeing pleasure burst behind your shuttered eyelids at the sudden stinging. “Fuck- you’re the hck! best I’ve ever had, Curse.”
“I agree.” He hums. And as if this entire ordeal wasn’t sinful enough, Choso’s swashing around the silky-smooth sap he’d collected from your leaking pussy. Letting the flavor seep into his tastebuds, before he’s then spitting again on your pussy. A semi-opaque layer of lewdness that coats your inner thighs in a sheen that catches the lighting.
Perfect on camera.
You’re squeezing your wettened thighs together and creating an audible squelch!
“Awwww, look- this pussy agrees, too.”
The gooey addition startles you- and you rut.
Only straight down onto his awaiting fingers.
@girrrrrrrrrrth: oh, shit is he…
@legsopenforcurses: With the rings on, too!!
@likezmenpregnant: My show is onnnnn
It’s such a fucking mess for him to navigate- even with his own fingers. Soon enough, you’re arching your back as you feel him intrude a single ringed digit between those utterly swollen pussylips of yours—almost difficult to find your snug hole between them. You’re damn lucky that Choso’s fingers were slender as well as incredibly lengthy.
Because he’s circlin’ your tight orifice a few times - only a few times - before inserting the sections of his finger. Quirking just right and hitting the exact bundle of your nerves.
That infamous g-spot that made you yelp once he starts and keeps on hitting.
And his rings- oh, fuck, his rings.
Just so chunky and textured. They were the perfect designs to press up against your walls and massage them stupid- every drag meant that you’re feeling them dig into ridges n’ crevices you hadn’t even known existed.
Hitting and hitting. Curling his dexterous finger and scraping- “Fuuuuck, oh my god.” The doughy tip of his finger soon becomes damn-near molded to the area where it was, and your eyes flicker to the back of your head as you continue anglin’ your hips so he could hit it perfectly. “Right there, Curse- r-right there.”
“I know.” Choso rolls his eyes - at least what seems like it underneath his mask. “That’s why I’m hitting it. Honestly…is my girl dickmatized?” He utters as he sucks on your clit—ultimately erupting a sobbing slurp! that makes him nod. “Mhm, I think my girl’s dickmatized.”
Tipping his head back before you can refute his claims. He then addresses the audience-
“Whaddaya think, my little pervs? Dickmatized already…maybe I should go easy on her, huh?”
@olderandR4w: nooooooooooo
@yoyoyoureinmypuss: NEVER.
@Fishygurodad: Go even harder.
“Tough crowd.” And with that said, Choso’s stuffin’ in just a few more fingers. Each with their own numerous rings and sopping wet sounds accompanying them—slurp!
One.
Two.
You’re counting about three of his prolonged digits pushin’ your tight walls to their limits, rubbing your sweet spots raw with his constant bashing rhythm, before lustful fogginess coils around your brain. And it’s around here that Choso catches onto the glazed look in your eyes and chuckles—
“Ohhhh, you really are dickmatized.” He hums to himself, though you’re sure the professional mic picks it up either way. “And so soon, too. Probably hasn’t had a good finger-”
A fourth being added so that he can scissor apart your velvety channel whilst still multi-tasking with his other fingers to ram into your g-spot.
“-or even a good mouth on ‘er…” To emphasize his point, he presses a dramatically loud kiss upon your clit. One that’s making you bounce n’ bounce your hips atop his clammy face, and grind your throbbing nub down on his pointed nose. The addition of his mask just makes that cool touch even more lecherous. “My poor girl.” Choso still mutters out despite the way he’s gluing your cunt to his mouth. He pulls away from your clit with a loud pop! “What do you think, my slutty audience?”
At the slurring question you’re letting your head down to watch him. “Ch…Curse, what’ve you got on your mind-”
“M’just asking what else you deserve, baby.” He coos. And questions them once more, “How about a little quiz? Which parts of Curse are going to make my poor, poor girl feel the best? A). My fingers. B). My mouth. Or…”
And he pretends to listen to your noisy wet pussy once more.
“Or C…” You could practically feel the grin plastering against your needy pussy. The way his eyes narrow in sinful amusement beneath his mask- you didn’t have to see his full face to know that Choso was enjoying this perhaps way more than he should. “—all of the above.”
And it was futile to think that they would answer anything else.
C floods your vision.
You’re letting your mouth droop, and your gaze meet Choso’s own between your legs- but you’re finding that you don’t have to say a thing for him to already know the answer.
And as expected, he gives a final roll of his tongue atop your clit - before munchin’ on your aching cunt once more. This time, he’s tunneling his fingers deep into your cavern whilst still licking inside with his prolonged tongue—when stretched out, Choso’s tongue could reach almost as deep as his fingers could.
Your cunt was being stretched-out to lengths you never thought about before.
Not only were Choso’s fingers thicker than yours, but his tongue was something ravenous- no matter how much you’re flinching in sensitivity, he isn’t slowing down. “Mmm-” He groans, barely breathing through even his flared nostrils. You’re hit with the distinct feeling that he thinks he doesn’t even have to breathe as long as he had you on him like this - “Mmm, hold still.”
Taking advantage of the fact to lavish your sensitive inches with kiss upon kiss. To grind his nose down purposefully on your clit. To glide his metallic piercing across those hidden spots. To bash your poor g-spot in again and agaaaain with his fingers before his tongue’s coming to the rescue to soothe the slightly raw sting-
So it’s not long before you’re throwing your head back and cumming.
Perhaps the strongest you’ve ever felt when you’re in the throes of your high.
You barter your hips forwards and keep up a steady pace - one that’s making Choso hit the exact spots you wanted him to during the peaks of your high. The utmost peaks. “Shit—shit, just like that.” Breathless. “K-keep going, baby, it feels so good.”
And he doesn’t even answer - too caught up in fucking you through your orgasm.
In the way you shudder above him. In the way you’re only getting even sweeter by the second-
Bodyheat raising a few degrees in temperature; your heart sings and the bed creaks with how much you’re jostling from above. This was even better than touching yourself to videos of him, there were so many thrills of bliss that he’s wringing out of you- like he’d wring out of himself during his solo videos.
With both his fingers and his tongue, slurpin’ and sliding. Those doe-like eyes of his are edging straight to the back of his skull as he feels your drenched walls cleeeeench around his pierced tongue, as though it’s the best thing he’s ever fucking felt. And you’re acting on impulse - you really are - because the coffee table was positioned right beside the foot of the bed.
And all you had to do was reach your arm out to grab the simple camera there. Turning it into your point of view as Choso’s sweaty brown bangs stick to his forehead, as sweat trickles down his temple, as he lets out soft yet unyielding moans whenever you’re squeezing your thighs around his head.
@cockycockowner: no homo but that’s the most beautiful man i’ve ever seen.
@theh0rniestsoldier: woah he’s PUSSYDRUNK
@Fishygurodad: Show me his POV.
@daddytoeknee: Don’t you know that she’s his girl now smh?^^
@daddytoeknee: Movie-core- wya ml??
Choso cocks his head and keeps making out with your pussy in all the ways that make your toes curl—pleasure elongating from your orgasm and spreading into every part of you. Your vessels, your cells, your atoms.
They’re all buzzing with pleasure and still aching for more once Choso finally pulls away with a loud pop! of his lips releasing.
When they do, you’re sneaking a look down at him and noticing just how red n’ swollen they were. Even the skin around his jaw was flushed with the constant ramming contact. And the viewers are just gobbling it up - subscribing bells keep dinging here and there, and everywhere.
Just a single look at his stats on-screen reveal that Choso’s climbed up to 870k just since you’d started this stream.
And it’s after a little while - after he’s had his fill - that the dark-haired man finally taps at the side of your thigh to gesture for you to get up. Though, even then, he’s tightening his grip on your body—going against his own fucking instruction to press a final few open-mouthed kisses before he’s done.
He chases after your pussy with his maw for a little- before he’s finally sitting up.
And it’s only then that he seems to notice the camera in your hand, blinking his glazed eyes a few times to make sure he isn’t dreaming things up. Once it finally registers, the most attractive grin spreads across his face. “You changed POVs?”
“Had to.” You admit, “I wanted them to see how pretty you are…”
“Guess you finally learned about sharing, hm? Greedy girl.” He chuckles darkly to himself. And then he starts looming closer, “But you realize that the show’s not done yet, right?”
You gulp.
@Fishygurodad: Fuck her already, damn!! I’m only here for her.
@2coolforcond0ms(i’mavirgin): Hate to admit it, but he’s lowk right. I think I’ve discovered I’m bi…
@vampzo333: ^^
@girrrrrrrrrrth: ^^
“So impatient.” He looks at the monitor, reading the chat and tuts. “Honestly- so ungrateful. I should end the stream right here and fuck her on my own terms.”
There’s a frenzied flurry of comments- all of which you were sure were begging for Choso not to stop and bashing that one commenter for attempting to start a revolution. To which you’re only giggling and handing over the camera to him.
Choso - as the expert - then positions it somewhere by the edge of the fluffy pillows: where they’d be able to see the expanse of both your bodies and where you’d soon be connected…
And then you’re shedding your clothes in a hurry- making it to your smart blouse before he’s reaching a hand up and tearing through it. The buttons hit the floor, and at your noise of displeasure Choso merely lets out a half-delirious giggle.
He leans in and whispers, “I-I have a Phantom of the Opera t-shirt I’d love for you to wear.”
The change in demeanour gives you utter whiplash, and you can’t help but stare at him open-mouthed.
“What?” Choso asks, next moving on to shrugging off his own fabrics. They’re landing on a heap beside the bed, and your lips slightly part at the display of his red-hot erection—it’s just as large and sensual as all those streams had proven him to be. Polished strawberry top. Slender veins along the middle.
A happy trail of dark brown - nearly black - glistened with the splattered remnant of his precum. Just like the gleaming mess across his chin, mouth, and cheekbones that Choso wore like a medal.
He was slightly longer than even on camera- and even prettier up-close. Way up close- he shuffles his body up yours n’ fucks your tits a few times to dollop out glistening translucent precum across yours tits.
“Lighting’s not the best here.” Choso explains- or at least attempts to pin an explanation onto that. Onto something he’s clearly been wanting to do for so long. “Had to highlight ‘em, baby.”
You scoff, “It’s just…” Throwing a cautious glance at the camera, you lower your voice. “You’re so different from how you are in real life.”
“Oh? And how did you expect me to be, huh?” He positions himself between your legs - wrapping both of them around his waist. Before then thinking better of it and throwing them even more lewdly around his neck instead—his plush priggish tip kisses your entrance. “Did you expect me to be like…”
He trails off.
He doesn’t need to complete the rest of his sentence- and you don’t think you’d have heard him even if he tried.
Because in that very moment, Choso’s jerking his pale hips back a mere few inches—then plopping his globular tip between your pussylips and push-push-puuuuuushing. Fucking past the initial restraint of your first ring of muscle, he’s funneling in some thick inches that make your heels bang against the muscles of his back.
And he doesn’t even seem to notice.
He doesn’t even seem to breathe as he’s letting his cock swerve inside. Get suctioned inside. Get his Prince Albert’s piercing crept down your sensitive innards. Get gobbled up between your greedy legs-
You clench ‘round him and Choso throws his head back with a low, broken moan.
“Oh p-please—” He’s babbling out through unsteady pink lips, a lazy line of dribble starting up from one corner of his mouth. Those long lashes of his flutter as he’s reaching one bulky hand up to grip the headboard, and placing his right one on your hips- keeping you steady.
Fingers trembling. Muscles rippling.
@likezmenpregnant: Woah…make him do that again…
@sixeyesorsixh0les: SUBBY CURSE HELLO??
@whimperwhiteboywhimper: oh I am SO here for this
@Fishygurodad: Whatever…
Your eyes bulge once his throat cracks with what sounds like a whimper—“Please it feels so good.” And though you couldn’t quite make it out, even the chat seemed stunned as Choso punctures out a broken stutter of his hips. Delving a few inches into your goopy insides- though not enough to bottom out completely, as you’re still too wound-up for him to fit completely. And you’re able to pinpoint exactly where he’s using the orbed metal of his first piering. With more to come…“Ngh- oh.” Broken noises emanating into your eardrums and the mic. “It f-feels shooooo good, baby.”
Choso’s head drops into the crook of your neck, and there - and there - you’re feeling his cheeky grin.
And suddenly you’re understanding.
Oh—he was toying with you.
And he was doing it in a way that’d completely fooled you- and perhaps all of his viewers, too.
But before you’re able to open your mouth to bite back something at him, Choso staggers his hips back and gives you a vicious jackhammer with his cock, “O-ohhhhh, my god—” Your toes curl atop his shoulders, slippery with sweat. He hadn’t even rammed all the way inside yet, and yet the slightly left-leaning angle of his shaft was driving you wild.
Big and thick.
Running the slick globe of his tip down your walls, Choso probes a direct hit to that spot you loved so much. And he knew you loved it so much—he’d mapped out your entire pussy earlier, of course.
And yet, he’s still gasping as though the pearls gates of heaven had descended right here and there. He’s letting his sweet caramel eyes widen convincingly as he peers down at you, “I-is that…the spot, baby?”
@Curse’swifey: HE sounds SO NGH.
@daddytoeknee: Daddy likey…
@daddytoeknee: Also Movie would’ve really LOVED this, huh?
You hiss, “Curse, you should already know-”
“But how could I know—?” He exclaims. “This is my first time, after all…” Then Choso’s plastering his clammy tattooed hips - with a snake on the side - to yours, as though the two were connected by the force of the world’s strongest magnets: pulling and pushing, pulling and pushing. Every single battering ram of his mazing cocktip ends up lodged against your sweetly bruised g-spot, marking his circumference out with the sheer pace at which he was hitting it.
“Shit—” Your nails clench on the sheets, and feeling jealous- Choso guides them to fist his hair instead. “Shit, right there. It f-feels so good-”
“There?” The once-nerdy man breathes out in awe. Disbelief every single time - or at least the mocking imitation of one. Swipin’ a line of precum down your nervy spot once more, “Th-there, baby—?”
Something breathy- octaves higher in his tone. “Yes- yes there-”
“There-” Choked up and ruined. Husky grunts hatching in the back of his throat. There was something there in his words that you couldn’t quite pinpoint—a sort of undertone of primal need, primal amusement as he ruined your pussy with his speedily pap-papping hips, but acted as though he had no idea what he was doing. Every single syllable uttered was met with a thorough whack of his curved cockhead against your particular spot- “There there there there- there-”
“Fuh-fuuuck-”
“So this g-spot’s really m-mine now, baby?” Choso asks.
You whine, back arching off the mattress. “Yes-”
“Does she really have my mark on it now?”
“Yes…?” Eyes shooting open as you’re half-registering his question in your hazed brain. He bores his dark eyes down at you intensely. And as though to emphasize his point, you’re feeling his perfectly round tip squeezing into your throat by the next few thrusts. Deeper and deeper.
His Jacob’s Ladder starting to ease its frigid way past your entrance and glide across the roof of your cunt. It was a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt before.
Choso probes even more, “I-is she really shaped to the shape of my cock now?”
“Cho—ngh.” Quickly shutting your cockdrunken self up. Quickly reaching a ringed hand up to squeeze your throat- before he’s languidly snaking his way up to squeezing your pretty cheeks together.
Smushing your face in a way that was almost disrespectful- though, not that you were in any state of mind to call him out on it. And there’s a mean inkling in Choso’s tone as he coos, “Awww, b-baby, why aren’t you answering me?” Another rude slap! of his hips make your own sear in flames- that damn strength of his. Those damn piercings of his. “Is your poor, poor Curse not good enough?”
Before you can answer, he’s looking at the blinking camera.
“My babies, my girl doesn’t love my cock anymore…”
“I do—I do-”
Squeezing his doughy-soft restraints - those contrastingly mean fingers of his - around your cheeks. He’s managing to smush your mouth shut and make you echo out the most pathetically pleading whines—as he fucks you. Determined and targeted.
The glossy rotund edge of his tip presses against your g-spot a few more times before you’re managing to make yourself take a peek at the comments on the monitor.
Almost too far away- almost too blurry with the tears in your eyes.
@Curse’snewestharem: Awwwww poor bby </33
@CCpervnextdoor: I would LOVE your cock, Curse!!
@girrrrrrrrrrth: is it just me or is he teasing us?
@Fishygurodad: ^^Yeah, he’s totally a fraud.
@Curseswombmommy: ^^girl shut up
“Th-they really think you’re oh-so-innocent…” You’re whispering up at him. Overstimulated tears in your eyes.
Breath hitching every time he’s surging his tattooed hips forwards and hitting that one spot particularly hard. Though there was never such a thing as too hard…
And Choso’s shooting you a secret smile - one just between the two of you - before morphing his expression into that of picture-perfect innocence. Roleplaying the demeanor of his nerdy self on campus, mixed with the utterly sultry—sexual way he was draaaaagging his lengthy cock in and out of your cunt.
Eventually, Choso’s emptying his inches out n’ bruising the bottom of your pussy. All of his nine - you seriously felt nine throbbing inches - inches shaping out the in-betweens of your legs. All of the beaded barbells of his Jacob’s Ladder massaging inside- the slitherin’ feeling of them making themselves at home. Zig-zagging and slithering.
He feels the sponginess of your cervix and presses a hand down on your abdomen just to make sure, before changing that excitement into one of almost-genuine bafflement- “I-I really bottomed out?” Choso’s pinkish bottom lip juts out and quivers dramatically.
“Of course, you did.” You’re ready to scoff-
But whatever sarcastic sound was in the back of your throat gets quickly dissolved at the sight of Choso with genuine tears in his eyes. Glistening. “But I never- ngh, never thought I’d be able to.” He puts some more merciless pressure on your stomach that makes you buck—
And the only thing you can do is let your head tip back into the pillows.
The only thing you can do is let out a few mottled moans as he rubs over the small tummy bulge he was fucking into you. Pushing his palm down so that he could feel it.
Whispering out, “I-I never thought this pussy would claim my cock as- ngh, hers, hm?” And for the moment there, you’re completely sure that he isn’t talking to you. Rather, your pussy that was sobbing out squelches after every one of his jackhemmerin’ thrusts. “And it’s not too big, right?”
“N-never—”
“Because m’just a nerd with a- hngh, biiiiiig fuckin’ cock.” How pitiful, right? He’s letting his long, dark lashes flutter as Choso avoids meeting your eyes—as though in shyness. He drills his hips even deeper - one unforgettable strike after the other following every word he spoke. “Just a big- fat- fucking- cock-”
“Please—!” Eventually, your arms reach upwards and you’re grabbing ahold of whatever part of him it is you could reach first. Which just-so-happened to be his bulky deltoids.
Choso’s brows genuinely seem to furrow at the lewdness of you digging your nails into his muscles, leaving your marks for everyone and anyone to see even after this stream has ended. And so he continues in his faux-innocent tone, “Oh? Did that feel good, baby?”
Purposefully slidin’ his cock across your g-spot so that you’d have to cry out. “Y-yeeees—”
“I didn’t even know, baby.” His mouth hangs open, and the most lustrous squelches! echo between your two connected bodies. Your cunt n’ his precum were making such messes…“I had no idea…”
His Jacob’s Ladder leaves your channel feeling raw n’ overstimulated- you feel raw and overstimulated.
And you’re laid-out on the bed dazed and feeling so fucking good as Choso’s picking his pace up even more, you notice for a split-second that his hands have moved. No longer was he holding onto your cheeks n’ watching you squirm—now, the nerdy man hooks both hands around your sweaty thighs and pins them close to his body.
Holding them in place as he leans down, down, dooooooown until the caps of your knees hit your tits.
You’re keening at the stretch, and a searing burn spreads from between your pussy and along your hamstrings. How did he even hide such strength underneath those soft knitted vest? Such a body?
Before you know it, you’re being pressed into your first-ever mating press.
And Choso gapes as though he was just as bewildered as you, “O-oh…did I do that?” He’s fucking asking you—however, when your stunned expression bears no answer, he turns and asks the same question from the camera. The bursts of replies obviously agree n’ tease him. And he’s shaking his head ever-so-slightly, “Did I really bend you in- heh-” A slight chuckle escapes him. “—half, baby?”
And what else can you do but nod and nod and nod—?
“I think this is called a…breeding press?” He cocks his head ever-so-slightly, before shaking his head. “No wait- a mating press.”
“A m-mating press.” You’re repeating lamely.
“I c-can’t believe I’ve folded you into a mating press, baby.” Choso nearly snarls at himself, his hips accelerating until that rouge-tipped cock of his was almost nothing but a blur. “Can’t believe—s’like my body is moving before my mind, ngh. My fat cock’s not hittin’ you too deep, right, my girl?”
“Not in the l-least…”
And he really was long enough to make each and every probe feel as though it was slam-slam-slamming into your throat- the capped crown of his shaft was entering crevices n’ crannies you hadn’t even known you possessed. All marked out precisely by the silvery orb of his Prince Albert’s.
Just then, after your answer, Choso reaches his left hand up to wrap ‘round your throat - and then hauls you back down to meet his slapping hips.
A thrust even harder than the ones before it.
Your breath gets snatched out of your lungs, dissipating into the heady air filled with the contact-riddled sounds of sex. Hard and fast. Only getting harder the longer you have your ankles looped ‘round his neck—“Not too hard, is it, baby?” Chosos asks you once more.
And you don’t have anything to spit out besides, “Oh f-fuck off.”
He gasps dramatically-
Well, not exactly dramatically. But in a way you knew was fake, and in a way that sends the chat exploding into comments.
The nerd pouts cutely, “Well, that’s not very nice…”
You’re rolling your eyes—right before Choso’s genuinely sending them rolling with his two fingers clamped around your clit. Using the silvery edges of his rings, he runs a few massages that end up with you sobbing and blabbering out your pleasure.
@Curse’swifey: FUCKKKKKKKKKK they’re both so hot. THEY’RE BOTH SO RUINED.
@peepeesarebetterfictional: they both look like they’re gonna cum soon hehe
@bewbsRlife: CUM CUM CUM CUM CUM
Biting back. “I would argue th-that that’s not very nice, either.”
“But m’just trying to make my gorgeous girl cum…” And from where he’d been looming his pretty face above yours, Choso then lets his head droop down between your tits. During his ravenous pace, he’s roverin’ his mouth all over to kiss and suck at your tits, your nipples.
His cold lip ring drags across your left areola- and he catches onto the way you’re shivering. Before Choso then grabs your nipple between his lips n’ hollows his cheeks out sucking—“Promise m’just trying to make you feel- hah, good.” He mutters, slightly muffled. “Promise I just wanna fuck my cock raw if it means making my lifelong crush feel good…”
“Cho- Curse, are you…?” Your eyes widen.
And his own flap droopily a few times, “Hmmm?”
And that proved it.
That proved it.
Because Choso Kamo could be pretending to be a stuttering, panting, blushing mess on your heavenly cunt all he wanted- he could pretend to be pussydrunk out of his mind. But at the end of the day, it was impossible to hide when pretend turned into something…more.
When the cocksure streamer that’d been driving you wild all this time morphs into the contentedly pussy-whipped nerd you expected him to be deep down inside.
His eyes genuinely glazed and blinking longingly.
His hair drenched in sweat.
His skin flushed with need- and only flushing even more fiercely the longer he kept his eyes on you.
Without much ado, you’re throwing your hands around his neck and tuggin’ him as far as he could crane his neck when his entire body feels like collapsing onto you and into your maddening pussy.
Choso pistons his hips slightly upwards to hear the slurp of his Jacob’s Ladder sliding across your walls, and he grooooans—
“Curse, baby…” You hum.
“Mhmmmm?” He replies with half-lidded eyes. Barely focused.
This was the big, bad #1 streamer on C4mBoyfriends? As though sensing your thoughts, Choso’s fingers grow a little more frenzied on your clit. “I need you to cum inside, okay?”
He jolts at the idea- that sinful, sinful idea. Before chuckling, “Never had any other plan, baby.” And then he turns to the camera, “What do you think, fuckers? Think my girl deserves to cum?”
@Fishygurodad: Yes.
@Curse’swifey: YES.
@likezmenpregnant: Yesssss~
@girrrrrrrrrrth: yesyesyes.
@daddytoeknee: Hell yeah-
He’s holding out a little longer to make sure there wasn’t a single ‘no’ in there - and had there been one, you’re sure that Choso would have stopped and edged your incoming orgasm until it was a wave of complete agreement.
Luckily for you, they liked you.
And all he does now is press down harder on your g-spot from inside, lingering, and massage a pretty heart on your clit once more, lingering—before a final, thorough stroke is all it takes for you to hurtle into your second high of the night.
For you to arch your body into his chest, and shutter your eyes. “Ch-Cho…”
Barely a whisper. He’s crashing his mouth into yours to make sure that secret between you two isn’t revealed. And you’re moaning deeply into Choso’s mouth as you cum—“Feels so- oh. It feels so…”
“Mhmmmm.”
Unable to even find the words.
The only thing you can do is riiiiiide out the massive wave of your high. It’s torrential; pure bliss floods your system from head-to-toe, and no matter how much you’re squirming your overstimulated hips, Choso only succeeds in batterin’ away his pierced cock into eeeevery single hidden sweet spot inside of you. The ones that prolonged your bliss and left spikes of euphoria leading up to your brain.
Your cunt clenched so tightly around his cock- almost as though you didn’t want him to even pull out. And Choso’s sweaty head drops once more into the crook of your neck as he cums with a shudder.
The knot between his brows deepening, the bedsheet around his knees bunching up as he surges his body upwards. Almost animalistically.
Choso bottoms out his furious, twitching cock and keeps it there- “Oh, fuck…” It didn’t sound like he was acting once his bawling red divot starts splatterin’ out more milky white wads. Deeep in the back of your pussy, right where your womb was, Choso puddles out his ecstasy in long ribbons. “Oh fuck fuck fuck—fuck. Always knew it’d feel this good.”
Wave upon wave.
Toes curling. Eyes scrunching shut.
If you thought his moans were sensual before, then you weren’t prepared for the ones your pussy was able to drag out of him - ragged and hollow utterances of your name. Over and over like a broken record, like a mantra.
He’s fucking into you to milk them out of his hefty balls- then fucking you again just to pump those webbed wads right back in. From the top of his rotund tip and dooooooown to the tufts of hairs at his base. All nine inches of him being used to stuff you till the brim—
You’re sure your insides look like an utter fuckin’ mess by the time he’s slowing his tattooed hips down ever-so-slightly—still shaking from the aftermath of his orgasm. This was far stronger than anything he’s ever experienced before.
Drunkenly, you’re blinking your eyes up at him. “Always?”
He smiles, “Ever since our first lesson of Film 101.” Admitting, he lovingly wipes off a bit of his cum you were foaming between your pussylips. “You referenced Pride and Prejudice when talking about the best lines of dialogue of all time, and I-I’d been a goner since then.”
“Corny…” You snort. Though you can’t help the flutter of your heart.
“So um- coffee after this?”
“It better be dinner.”
He laughs in agreement. “Also I bought a vibrating piercing the other day and have been dying to try it…”
Your eyes widen.
And once you’re helping him pull out- Choso reaches for the camera and gets a good shot of the cum leaking between your legs. Before you’re both waving at it, “Thank you for joining us, today—this was the most fun I’ve had on stream yet- heh.”
You’re shooting the camera a pretty smile, too.
And Choso kisses the corner of your cheeks, “Until next time. This has been Curse and Movie.”
@girrrrrrrrrrth: holy fuck??
@Curse’swifey: WAIT WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT NO WAY-
@bewbsRlife: HOLD ON-
@CCpervnextdoor: SAY SIKE RN?
@bipplruletheworld: oh my god that’s amazing.
@likezmenpregnant: Oh, a love story for the ages~
@yoyoyoureinmypuss: YOU TWO LOOKING FOR A THIRD??
@Fishygurodad: Damn.
@Fishygurodad: Hmu when he messes up.
@daddytoeknee: Stfu he won’t.
@daddytoeknee: Also I totally called it <3
A/N. I did NOT plan to have me inserted and beefing with Toji Fushiguro but here we are-
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, making him cúm dry, making him WHlMPER, p sIapping, spítting, chokíng, headIocks, challenges, DlLF!Toji (well he already is), Avatar AU (for Geto), Fire-bending master!Geto, use of powers, true form!Sukuna, Heian era, DP, Sukuna’s second mouth, overstím, squírting, slight dry-húmping, they’re GONE, GOJO’S POWERS, Shinjuku Showdown FR, ìnappropriate use of cursed techniques, unIimited void, he’s feraI, slight pIots, matíng presses, fuII neIsons, manhandIing, pussydrunk JJK men, sIight bóndage (Higuruma), creampìes, cúmpIay, slight cúmfIation, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. ALRIIIIIIIGHT I heard you babygirls ab Zuko okay?! And he just kept remindig me of Sugu so…
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 6 rounds.
Your neighbor Toji has been eyeing you for a while.
Of course—one could argue that that was simply due to the structure of this place. It was one of those shoebox apartments; deceptively smaller-looking on the outside, with a pitiful few sprigs of a garden and an elevator that never worked. The only thing the exterior got correct was just how…intimate you’d be with your next-door neighbor.
And you knew all too well.
When you first moved, you’d walked the few steps it took to knock on your neighbor’s door - Fushiguro, the nameplate said - and you were met with…the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.
Off-color undershirt. Tall stature.
A body that could’ve been handcrafted by the gods themselves as he lifted a muscular arm up to grasp the door frame. “Tch. Whatever you’re selling, we’re not buying.”
But you weren’t put off - because you’ve been eyeing Toji, too.
And the moment you saw him, you’ve been wanting to ride that man dry.
But perhaps that was too much for an introduction to your next-door neighbor, no? That was probably more of a second meeting thing- hah. And so you’d hastened to explain that you were actually the new tenant, handing over the bundle of cookies that you’d baked for the residents you were close to.
And Toji had looked at the cookies, and at you….and at the cookies…and at you- before ultimately sticking his head outside and glancing down the hallway - as if to make sure that this really wasn’t some superior marketing tactic.
And yes, he really had just gotten free cookies.
Finally, he raised a dark brow at you and smiled - or at least what you imagined was a semblance of a smile. Just the slightest quirk of his scarred lips. “Heh…we’ll get along. Nice to meetcha, I’m Fushiguro Toji.”
And just then, Fushiguro Megumi had made an entrance at the wafting smell of freshly-baked treats. Immediately tugging the bag out of the man’s hands and taking it for himself-
You promised Toji that you’d make another batch for him.
And so you did. And so you baked, you accompanied Toji shopping, you helped him move away from giving poor Megs instant ramen for dinner all the time—you even got to bake in their kitchen when your oven once broke down.
Thus. After a few months, Saturday nights often looked like an amalgamation of both your previous routines; with you ignoring your manager’s overtime phone calls to put on your favorite show and indulge in some selfcare. Toji with his pen out and his eyes squinting at the latest jockey racing results- dammit, Haru Urara lost again.
Down the hall, Megumi was fast asleep.
All in his apartment.
You can’t remember the last time you’d wound down in your own- but before you can consider what that meant…Toji’s throwing his pen down. He heaves himself up from the brightly-lit dining table to sit down beside you—gaze narrowing at the half-shitty soap opera you’d put on to pass the time. “What…the hell is that?”
“A show.” You retort.
“I get that- hah, you think m’stupid?” Toji rolls his sage green eyes. And before you can reply with something smart, he’s gesturing half-heartedly at the screen before him. “I mean- why the hell is there so much…crying and moaning.”
Your gaze snaps to the quickly-shifting scenes on-screen, “That is, uh…” In the few seconds you’d looked away to scour Toji’s library for a book that wasn’t a sports magazine or a Haru Urara fanbook, it seems the plotline on the TV had taken…a far more different route. “Sex.”
“You think I fucking don’t know what’s-” As you’re laughing your head off, Toji cuts himself off and pinches the top of his nosebridge. Surely to ward off his oncoming headache.
You always did do that to him. In the best way.
And after a deep breath, he gestures idly at the screen once more. Or more specifically: the way the love interest’s eyes widen in shock, mouth dropping as he looks between where they were connected. He’s saying something that makes you still, “Why is he talking about…cumming dry? There’s no way that’s fuckin’ real.”
“It is?” You’re peering at him in confusion. “It literally is?”
Toji crosses his beefy arms, “No way.”
“You’re going to argue with science, Toji?”
“M’just saying- it’s never happened to me.” He retorts.
And the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them- “…Is that a challenge?” You regret them as soon as they’re entering the tense air, making the older man stiffen beside you—
And you’re just about to apologize and bow yourself out of the awkwardness when-
“Oh you can fucking try.”
It’s how you find yourself being guided to Toji’s single bedroom - no matter how many times you’ve been in his apartment, you’ve strayed far from here - and sprawled out on his vast mattress. Legs straddling his hips. Hands braced on his pecs.
You’re grabbing a nice feeling of them and it makes the beefy man groan. He’s peering up at you through his jet-black bangs, only half-covering his smoldering gaze. “So…? I’m fucking hot, yeah, but you’re just gonna stand there ogling me or…”
“So humble, too.” You scoff.
And then you’re fiddling with the drawstrings of his sweatpants to take his thiiiiick, reddened tip in a single swoop - or at least try to. He grins, “Yeah. And don’t forget big.”
.
.
.
Toji Fushiguro fucks you - or it’s more like you’re on top n’ bouncing your hips down onto him - so that you won’t forget it.
So that you’re feeling the lil’ twinge of pressure between your legs once you’re walking out of this damn room, so that you’re feeling the remnants of his cum glued creamily to your pussy. It better feel empty without him in there - and Toji has one palm of his pressed up against your gaping mouth, so that you won’t wake Megumi.
And the other one of his was latched your left hip.
Gripping lovingly onto the flesh there and lurching your hips up and down—faster and faster. Moving. Manhandling. Because with just a few strokes of his sheer girth, you’re seemingly dickmatized.
And leaving it aaaaaall up to Toji to guide n’ prod.
To angle your hips in figure-eights so that he can feel his cum swirling inside. Stirring it with his glistening cock. “Atta girl.” Toji gruffs out at the feeling of being utterly slathered by your walls. “And what was that about cumming dry? Hah- because m’still rock-hard and the only one having trouble here is you—”
“You’re trouble.” You huff.
“Not what I said.” He snickers. Before his handsome face leans upwards and licks off a stray tear dangling from your cheek, “But you’re lucky you’re- hck! cute. And how many rounds was that, huh, doll?”
“Six.”
“Good. And how many rounds have I cum dry?”
“Zero…” Huffing at the smug look on his face- oh, how you wanted to wipe that off. Oh, how you wanted to make him eat his words—and perhaps without even realizing it, you’re jerking your hips stubbornly back and forth.
It wasn’t matching up to the controlled place that he was slammin’ away at the back of your cervix- but it sure was something.
Your velvety walls were utterly drenched in Toji’s hot cum by now - and that just made it so much easier for you to ground your feet into the mattress n’ take him. All of him. All of those crude, curved inches of him that opened you up perfectly—“B-but don’t think that you’re gonna get off that easily.”
“Oh yeah?” A moan hatches at the back of his throat- botched exhales. “And what’s different about this time, huh?”
“This time-” Fuck, Toji’s grin spreads in a feline way across his face. He was looking at you through half-lidded eyes, vision just a little blurred from pleasure, and there was an almost…wolfish hunger in them that makes you answer- “This time I don’t have enough space.”
And that makes one of his brows raise, “Hah?”
“I said it.” To emphasize your point, you’re parting your thighs just a little—almost difficult with the way his sap had them glued together. The milky-white ribbons of Toji’s cum leakin’ out of your poor pussy, so much of it that it’s dripping down and making his black curls there glisten. “Look…”
Toji’s pants slightly quicken at the sinful sight.
“Next time, you better not cum so much again- or else s’not gonna fit.”
Scoffing, he runs a thumb freely between your pussylips- and pushes in a few of the escaping wads. “And what if I just…make it fit.” Along with the fat edge of his thumb. “Juuuust like this.”
You’re wracking with shivers at the sudden intrusion, “What- cock so sensitive you can’t stop cumming?” Though you really liked it - with how much he was flooding your cunt every time - and he knew it, too.
“Pussy so whiny she can’t handle one more?”
“You wish.”
And that’s earning you a good spankin’ on top of your pussylips.
One. Two. Three.
Without pause. Soon, your cunt’s feeling utterly raw in the aftermath—and you’re clinging onto Toji’s firm deltoids for dear life.
But that didn’t mean you were going to back down anytime soon.
No…instead, you’re using the sudden grip to steady your weakened hips. With your two knees squeezing either side of his obliques, and your back arched into a curvature that makes his mouth water - you’re meeting Toji’s sloppy pace. Pushing him back down by the shoulders and taking over the sloppy pace—
Toji’s tipping over onto the pillows now. You’re smack-smack-smacking your hips down onto his at a jackhammerin’ cadence - faster than even he was, perhaps…
And it’s that fact that makes him breathe, “O-oh, okay.” Toji’s unsure where to put his hands- so you’re swiftly taking them into yours and making him puuuuush down on your bloated stomach. The wads of his cum glisten down your thighs, catching the dim lighting of the bedroom. “This is new.” Never has anyone ever tried to take charge of him.
And there was something so hot about it.
Something so irresistible about that determined set of your brow. The way you’re ruined on his cock and attempting to desperately make him even more so. The way you’re squeezing your cunt so tightly around his length—dragging your walls down it. And up. And down.
Your hamstrings ache as you ride. Your pussy’s grabbin’ him all over from the veeeeery crowned top- and then down to his thickened hilt.
Milking him is the only expression he can use to describe the motion.
“New as in…” You’re feeling the smile stretch across your face, milking Toji’s cock was all he was worth. Your hips accelerate. “-going-to-make-you-cum-dry sort of new? Or?”
Another spank- this time, right on your clit. “D-don’t get ahead of yourself.”
Pushing him down from attempting to take control of the pace once more. You’re throwing your head back and riiiding out his erection the way you like it - “M’just saying…you just stuttered.” His breath hitches at your response- “So victory might be closer than I thought.”
“I…”
“Awww. Is the big, bad Toji Fushiguro speechless for once?”
“Oh, fuck you.”
But, truly, he could feel the pressurized build-up at the base of his cock. Starting off small. Starting right above where his balls were twitchin’ and aching - and then moving up, up, uuup every single inch to angrily throb at his tip.
Furious, furious.
It had barely even started yet, and somehow Toji already knew that it was something different from all those orgasms that came before it. And so he’s clenching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth as he feels it overcoming him—
“Fuh-fuck.” He’s out-of-breath just from the first wave. And desperately - pathetically - Toji’s hoping to anything that’d listen that it wasn’t a dry orgasm. He’s pleading. He’s mentally on his knees and begging-
And then…with a sudden buck of his hips Toji’s round, blushin’ cockhead strikes the bottom of your pussy. It’s then that he’s realizing that perhaps manifesting really doesn’t work for some old bastard like him- because he doesn’t even have to feel the contrasting wetness of your cervix to already know.
To realize that though his bliss was searing through his body in waves-
His cock was dribbling out absolutely nothing.
Six rounds and he’d finally lost it.
The rush of his orgasm coursing through him, accompanied by the inexplicable emergence of nothing more. His achingly hot tip can do nothing more than stick deep into your pussy n’ swerve around the bundled-up wads of cum there. Not adding. Not taking.
Horny embarrassment mingles with his broken pride; and Toji clenches his jaw as he peers up at you—you and that damn accomplished smile.
You’re fluttering your lashes innocently down at him- “Yes, Toji? Got anything else to say about cumming dry?”
“No…” He reluctantly admits. Before spitting out -“What else does that TV show have?”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - 10 rounds.
You didn’t expect your husband to be anything but a gentleman.
Who would?
Nanami Kento was the epitome of everything one would want their partner to be; he was sweet, he was patient, he was intelligent in many ways—but most of all, emotionally. He loved you at your best and he loved you when you didn’t feel so - and thus, he was the man that stood before you at the altar.
Donned in a dark hakama. Blond hair slicked back.
Rose-gold ring glistening on one hand.
Stating vows to love one another from here onwards and forevermore; and he’s never meant anything more. Nothing has been truer in his entire life.
The celebrations were uproarious- not from Nanami’s end, but rather from your elated friends. Your new husband sat beside you silently during the reception, making sure you were eating well and that the air conditioning at the venue wasn’t too cold—though when he did get a few beers in him, he kept whispering from a scandalously close proximity how beautiful those robes looked on you…how much better it might look off—
You remember during this time that Shoko had tottered by - held up by weary Utahime - and blessed the two of you ten times over. Ultimately clapping Nanami on the shoulders and telling him to take good care of you.
And to not disappoint you on your wedding night-
But that was around the time that Utahime had decided that your brown-haired friend had taken one too many vodka shots. No chasers.
And she’d dragged her away whilst you and Nanami sat hot-under-the-collar in your seats. Avoiding much eye contact - because surely most could guess what was bound to happen at the end of the reception, the farewell.
And so had come the wedding night.
.
.
.
The two of you had barely made two steps into your five-star wedding suite before the expensive wedding clothes were falling to the floor.
And Nanami’s gotten you pressed into the most delicious full nelson on top of the rose petal-covered mattress. Cock heavy and hard. Those crimson flowers forming a heart underneath your two tangled bodies, and Nanami’s cock echoing the most lewd slurps n’ squelches.
It’d only gotten louder throughout the night- as Nanami swabbed the droplets of his creamy white cum inside you. Just married and he was already stuffing you full—
Four hours and hours. Making you cum through each one.
As a gentleman should, of course.
You think it’s around the tenth or so round when your head’s tipping stupidly backwards - resting against his firm collarbone - as Nanami’s burnished red cocktip rams into your g-spot again. Glued using a few webs of his seed, it’s a carnal sensation that sets your teeth on edge, and the blond-haired man crushes you close—
“Sh-shit…” You’re keening out, voice taking on a shrill pitch. “Kento- oh, ngh—” Barely able to speak through the loooong, thorough thrusts that he was planting inside you. “I n-never knew you could be so…”
Another hard slam! that leaves your ears ringing. And Nanami’s tone husked to almost nothingness as he asks, “Yes, my love—?”
“Rough.” Crying out.
Though they were cries of utter pleasure- of wanting him to continue. Because in the years that you’ve known him, Nanami Kento has never fucked you like this—has never fucked you the way he was hammerin’ mean strokes into you on your wedding night. Harsh plap! after plap! of skin-on-skin.
Of his stinging pink pelvis pushing into yours.
And your husband moves at a carnal pace - muddled brain unable to process anything more - once he feels your limp hips slippin’ out from above him. Covered in a thin layer of sweat and slick leaking like a waterfall between your glossy pussylips. “Sh-shit, Kento, m’gonna…”
“I’ve got you, my love.” Nanami wraps his bulky arms underneath both legs and hauls you upwards.
“Oh…” Your jaw drops, “You’re just moving me so easily.”
He merely chuckles at your cuteness- were you cockdrunk already?
And once you’re in proper position, laid out on top of the toned line of Nanami’s abdomen, he gently removes his arms. You’re almost disappointed at the massage of his flexing muscles- but before you can miss him too much, your newly-wed husband has them latched onto you again.
This time, in a headlock.
Left arm looped around your pretty throat.
Right arm slithered between your legs and squeezing your clit immediately.
You buck up at the sudden burst of pleasure- stars behind your eyes. Moans ready at the tip of your tongue—
“Shhhh shh shh, I wouldn’t want whoever’s next door to hear my- haaaah, beautiful wife’s sounds. I’m a protective man, darling.” He murmurs throatily behind you, “Unless it’s that new last name of yours.”
So gone by the way his round, throbbing tip was bulldozing into you until your toes curled- “N-new last name…?” It’s taking you a little while to register it.
But Nanami Kento always was a patient man, wasn’t he? And so he’s simply nodding, leaning down and spittin’ straight between your pretty lips to claim that mouth as his own- and his as yours. Of course. “Your last name.” He responds. “Mrs. Nanami.”
The mere sound of it is enough to make you shudder—“Oh.”
“Or…your last name is mine, too.” Nanami hums to himself- now so utterly gone on the idea of it all. Of marriage. Of the fact that you’re his wife - his wife. He tightens his headlock and kisses your temple gently, “It’s actually why m’a little more…rough, today, my love. You’ll have to forgive me.”
“I l-like it.” You’re replying, “And this is all because of- hngh, our wedding night, Kento?”
“Not quite.”
And you’re feeling cum glue to your cervix as you’re bucking downwards- but of course, your husband would never keep you waiting long. With a simple kiss to that wedding ring you were wearing, he raises your left hand up, up, upwards—to grip at his golden tresses. You’re going to need it.
Because in the next few seconds, Nanami then plants his feet further flatly on the mattress and drills his cock up into you. Tunneling. Mazing. Bashing his ruddied tip against every sweet spot.
He was fucking you like he hated you - and the creaking bedsprings would agree - but oh, how he loved you so.
The sheer amount of pleasure that courses through you was almost numbing.
And without further ado, you’re babbling out the sweetest whimpers n’ whines of his name. Nanami’s breath fanning your face hotly as he leans in and whispers—“It’s because you’re my wife.”
Lightning strikes you to your very core.
You could feel your high imposing.
Nanami’s honed canines nip at your earlobes, “It’s the same but not-” He continues, throat growing more n’ more ragged with grunts, the more the thrusted inside. “It’s what I’ve been dreaming for this entire time- fuck, but it’s…so…so much better.” Voice shattering at this very moment. “Darling, it’s like I can’t stop.”
And he fully meant it.
You’re clawing at the beefy expanse of his forearms as he accelerates, your high starting to shoot and crackle with no end-
“I’ve tried.” Nanami’s voice sounds hollow, echoing with something far more primal than you’ve ever heard of him. And hit thrusts- oh, his strikes were so toe-curling. “I’ve tried—but I just can’t seem to. I’ve told myself, I’ve made myself…” The most sinful squelch! wrenches from your pussy as he rolls over your clit and makes you cum once more, “But no matter how hard I try…I just can’t seem to stop wanting to cum inside my wife’s pussy.”
“K-Kento—” Your back arches- lights flashing behind your eyes. “Inside- please.”
“That’s exactly the problem.” He sounds like a man maddened. “I need to see this pussy drippin’ wet with my cum.” You’re shivering as he runs the flatness of his thumb between your cunt’s folds, just so sensitive that the barest graze leaves electricity zapping through your body. “Nine time- nine fucking times-” He rarely swore. “-and I still feel the urge to watch her try to gulp me up. To watch her overspill. To feel her soppin’ wet right down to the womb—”
Breathless with need. “Then do it, husband…”
“I can’t help myself.”
And then Nanami’s cumming.
Like he’d always planned to, of course. But the only problem was that this time - the tenth - he’s feeling nothing but the smallest trickle of cum. Just the faintest few ounces.
And then nothing more- although it feels like he’s still pouring out as much as it takes to flood you.
It hits him instantly that he’s cumming dry.
And Nanami’s mouth drops, blond lashes fluttering just a bit as he takes in the situation. No matter how many times he was draaagging his vein-covered cock in and out of your channel, it only left him as dry and overstimulated as ever.
Tears pricking behind his eyes, Nanami gasps. “This feels like a-a premonition…”
“Of?” You blink.
“The fact that this night’s not over yet.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - 8 rounds.
“Please- ngh—” The sound that leaves you is far too pitiful for your reputation. How could you have ever thought…“P-please, I beg of you-”
“Oh? You beg of me, hm?” Geto’s words were just dripping with amusement, and his smile presses up against your throat. Clammy. Pulse thundering. That beautiful long hair of his was completely untied and falling over the sides of your body, strands tickling down your arched back- it was like a cloak of night. And so was the firebending master.
You’re throwing your head back and keening—“More.”
“You beg more of your enemy?”
What treason. What treachery.
How did you even get here?
You could blame all the training; all the long nights and the countless days spent by the water, the feeling of power rippling through your body as you mastered it. It was no secret that the Fire Nation and the Water Nation were at war.
These were the days that would end up as history, after all.
But you just wondered whether this battle would…between one of the best of the Water Nation - you - and the Fire Prince himself. Geto Suguru.
Announced as next-in-line to the throne. The man your age with a fear-striking reputation that ran far and deep. And treacherous.
It was a siege planned by the group of rebels you were a part of, and it was simple: attack the Fire Nation’s Royal Palace and end their bloodline once and for all. And for that, you’d have to take care of the prince himself.
Little did you know that what had begun as a one-on-one fight between the two of you at highly close quarters would turn into something….else entirely. As you’d straddled him during combat and prepared to call upon your powers - chest heaving, eyes locked - you had no idea who leaned in first. You had no idea which one of you was the first traitor.
And so here you were…
Knees digging into the hard floor of the Fire Nation’s Imperial Dojo, mouth slobberin’ out lungfuls of moans. Your head throwing backwards and hitting the prominent collarbones of none other than your sworn enemy—Geto Suguru.
Who was fucking his hard, red-hot cock into you like he hated you.
And he probably did.
And yet…and yet- he can’t stop himself from lunging his needy hips forwards and slamming French kisses into the back of your cervix. Those nice, gooey depths that welcomed him with such fervour it almost made him laugh. But despite how bemusing it might be, Geto knows he should stop. He knows he needs to adhere to his duties…but here he was again.
And again and again.
Runnin’ on his seventh round, where he’s ruggedly pulling his vein-covered cock in and out of you. He fucked mean. And he was only getting meaner as he cranes his neck forwards, digging his pearly white canines into the crook of your neck.
Harder and harder.
“N-ngh…” It’s just barely-there. Sneakily, Geto muffles that broken noise emanating from the back of his throat - meanwhile, you’re left moaning once his hot sap starts to fill your cunt up once more.
Just the cutest few drops - drooling - before he immediately pulls out and sprays those satiny ribbons down your outer pussy. Coating a few milky-white layers on top, he then rubs his swollen n’ sap-glossed tip uuuuup and down your pussylips; a few times before plunging back in again. “M-more…”
It’s so quiet and pitchy that he barely hears it. But Geto Suguru wasn’t the nation’s fiercest warrior for nothing- “Pardon?” Those amethyst eyes of his widen at your request. It took a lot to surprise the Fire Prince, but now…he’s leisurely blowing the jet-black bangs out of his face to peer at you. “Repeat that.”
“Is that a command?” You bite.
And what you’re getting in response is a quick swat on your left ass cheek. Geto’s trained fingers were purposefully increasing their body temperature, leaving his imprint sizzling on your skin—“It is.” That chiselled body of his leans his weight even further down on you, massaging you with smooth, perspired abs. His long tendrils tickle your neck, “And what do you have to say to that, smallfry?”
“I say…” You’re whispering.
Leaning down even closer- practically pinning you beneath him. “Mhmmmm?”
“Fuh-fuck you.”
You weren’t repeating a single thing.
Turning your head ‘round to spit at him. Right across his face.
Except; Geto Suguru anticipates this very moment to leave his unfairly pretty lips ajar and let you spit in his mouth. Straight into his mouth. You’re watching in slow-motion as the glittery wad enters past his maw, getting smeared as the firebender then crashes his lips onto yours.
Such a filthy, filthy kiss.
You’re moaning deep into his mouth Geto roves his hips back n’ starts prodding even harder. Even harder. With the red, spherical tip of his cock—he enters your womb and lingers for a bit. “Now…” Another slap. “That isn’t a very nice thing to say, princess.”
You gasp. He knew.
That lineage you’d fought to keep hidden, for years upon years as you trained and grew stronger, noticed so easily by the prince himself…
Two royals tangled in something you couldn’t discern from passion and a fight.
Geto’s smile spreads against your mouth, and his hands come pummeling down in a rapidfire smack-smack-smack on your ass cheek. Temperature raising at the tips of his fingers. It’s practically sizzling- “What? Cock got your tongue?”
Another smack on your cunt. “Shut up.”
“Tha’s alright- you don’t have to answer me.” He croons. Dragging out with the tip of his tongue- and his cock, the sheer sensitivity of your pussy means that now even the slightest hit at your g-spot makes you jump—
Only for Geto to drag you backwards with a single arm wrapped around your throat. His bulky forearm bulges as he traps you in a headlock; and you’re just starting to ogle his muscles as he rams and rams his trained hips into you. Accelerating. Dragging it down your walls even faster- “But there is just one question I need to find out the answer to.” And that hand of his comes spankin’ down even harder. Smoothing along your ass cheek, “Can the Water Princess squirt—?”
“Fuh-fuck.” He was ruthless. If you thought that Geto was fucking you mean earlier, then you weren’t ready for right now. Your hands claw at the flooring before you, “No sooner than the Fire Prince can cum dry.”
It was the eighth round now and the both of you were gone.
With his hips pinning you down to the dojo ground. His headlock tighter than ever- veiny and muscular. The plump head of his cock drills into you so rapidly that it was nearly nothing but a blur of pink—in and out. In and out.
Geto’s making it a few more sharp thrusts before he feels pleasure coiling at the pit of his stomach. And he can’t have that - of course he can’t cum before who’s supposed to be his mortal enemy - so he squeezes his hand between your legs n’ rolls over that oversensitive nub with two fingers. Powerful fingers—his heat was sizzling, a carnal sensation that you couldn’t even begin to describe.
You yelp.
And though you couldn’t exactly call on your waterbending at the moment, you’re still able to jerk your hips back n’ meet Geto’s thrusts.
Fucking him just as angrily as he was fucking you.
Again and again.
The dojo grounds around you two rumble as though the most passionate fight, before your head throws back and you’re feeling your orgasm hurtling into you. And without thinking twice, you’re reaching underneath your body and grazing Geto’s aching, pistoning cock- just the slightest wisp of your waterbending power…being used to make your fingertips cold.
Cold to the touch.
Cold to contrast against his furiously hot cock.
With a flinch- you’re both tumbling into your highs.
“Fuck- oh…fuck.” You—with your cunt soakin’ itself in the excess of your orgasm. Dopamine coursing through your veins and your eyes fluttering shut- your peripherals sprint to the back of your head. And your toes curl…“I can feel you cumming dry, Suguru.”
“Sh-shut up.”
And so he was—his cockhead was flinching like he’d been spurting out ribbony wires of cum, his balls were clenching…and yet there was nothing. It wasn’t like the previous rounds when you had your deepest depths splashed in a sudden warmth- Geto, this time, was simply emptying out nothing.
Still fucking you ravenously through it-
“Cumming dry.” Elongating his wave of bliss. Rammin’ into your g-spot like a button, just so you could feel the slightest bit of the overstimulation he was. Almost laughing to himself, “You really fucking made me cum dry-”
“Problem, Fire Prince?”
“Not at all, Water Princess.”
And once he’s finally feeling it bate - his shaft having pumped out nothing throughout its entire duration - Geto presses his face into the crook of your neck and moans.
“Best of three then?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - 3 rounds.
“Baby, I just…” Choso’s tone quivers, something deep and dark seeping into his words. They seemingly erupt from the back of his throat, against his own will, and hang in the air like a sudden spritz of perfume—
Wait…you swear you’re smelling actual perfume.
Brows furrowing. Turning your nose upwards, you take in the fleeting flowery scent; before looking over your shoulder at where your boyfriend was standing.
It was a slow, sleazy weekend: time for just the two of you. The honks of cars were winding down, and sunset dripped from Tokyo city’s roofs and foliage. The only time when Choso was allowed to refuse the missions that the higher-ups foisted upon him, and when you could decline your manager’s calls without feeling even the slightest bit of guilt.
Instead. He was supposed to help you bake cookies today, he was supposed to be padding into your shared kitchen n’ press a sweet, sweet kiss to your cheek - then insist he take over as he always does. He was supposed to be…not this. Whatever this was.
Leaned against the dooframe. Head dropped. Hair loose. Breaths coming out in gusts. Choso had his Brother Bear t-shirt off and his bare chest flushed—damp with perspiration. It’s as though he’d been taken over by a sudden fever, ravaging through him, radiating heat through every single pore. Making his rosy cheeks flush even rosier as he jerks his dark, glazed eyes up to look at you.
And a sudden jolt goes through the both of you-
“Choso…?” You’re cautiously taking a step towards him- to which he’s surprising you by taking a step back. “Baby, what happened?”
“I-I just—” His voice hatches and cracks. Urgently clawing at himself. “Remember how I wasn’t feeling too well in the morning?”
You nod, taking another step closer.
He scratches behind his neck - movements torrid and heavy. Lethargic. “So I took a nap, and when I woke up it was just feeling…” Almost subconsciously, Choso’s hands snake down to the drawstrings of his sweatpants- fuck. And it’s just then that you’re registering the throbbing, aching bulge between his long legs. “-hot.”
Wordlessly, you’re looking at the calendar propped up on one end of the kitchen counter. Ah—the realization makes your lips part. Today’s date sticks out like a jagged nail, or - more accurately - like a…
Your gaze flickers back down to where Choso mindlessly paws at his erection. Breathless. Heating up.
“Cho, baby.” You’re catching his attention once more. Chocolate brown eyes glisten with tears- “I think you’re in heat.”
A shiver crawls through his body.
And his jaw drops, “Oh.”
Soon enough, you’re crossing the sizzling distance between you both and taking your agonized boyfriend by the hand. He flinches - just a little - as his skin touches yours- before you’re pulling him into a kiss and he simply melts—moans your name.
The two of you aren’t making two steps towards the bedroom before Choso hugs you from behind n’ crushes his red-hot, sensitive erection into your back. Breathing out a barely-audible plea. And then you’re both crashing onto the floor - the half-curse’s hands tugging on your panties, your hands flying to his cock.
He’s gotten you kneeled and arched into his scorching body temperature- before he reels backwards and funnels his cock in.
Just the very curve of it. Just the very tip—blushed red like a strawberry and twice as thick, he’s letting his eyes flutter shut as Choso cums instantly - instantly - at the feeling of your soaked pussy. The half-curse glues his hips to yours and starts spraying out satiny ropes of cum, “F-f-fuck…” His bottom lip quivers so cutely.
“Already, Cho?” Your purr.
It was just so cute. Because in the next few seconds he’s almost sobbing- “I…I can’t help myself.” Pretty face coming down to press in the junction of your throat, plastered with hot sweat and tears.
“Awwww.” You’re turning around to place a kiss on his cheek, “That heat’s made my poor boyfriend so sensitive, huh?”
And Choso simply nods and nods- “But m’not done yet.” Then you’re feeling the buzz of cursed energy- Choso’s cursed energy. You’re feeling your breath hitch as the technique of blood manipulation courses through his veins and renders his cock as hard as ever, flushed so hot you could feel him scorching between your swollen pussylips.
He just whimpers at the sensation. Blood manipulation always did leave him a little dizzy…
Then his hips are hammerin’ away into yours as though he was hungry to reach every pulsing spot and nerve inside. Every ounce of space. That spongy layer of your cervix felt like fucking heaven to him, and he didn’t know why but…but something was calling at him to keep on pushin’ his bundles of cum even deeper down there. To keep hitting it over and over.
To give you looooong, textured drags from his tip to his foamed hilt.
To let the most sensual grunts emanate from his throat every time he’s feeling your soaked walls attempt to clench around him. Chasing after the sensation of him stuffing you full.
In more or less of a doggy position, you’re steadying your hands on the lust-red carpet beneath you- and bucking your hips up. He was sizzling hot.
Once.
It makes Choso’s doey eyes widen—and he’s staring at you with bated breath. “What are you…”
Twice.
The globes of your ass cheeks reach backwards and smack! his toned pelvis. That sugary scent in the air only seems to grow even stronger- “Fuh-fuck, baby, that’s dangerous. If you do that, m’gonna…”
Eyes glazing over twofold. A slick line of drool on the corner of his mouth.
Your own twitches in amusement- you had him absolutely wrecked in nothing but a few bounces. In nothing but a few figure-eights making his pupils run to the back of his head. You’re bucking your hips back n’ forth to milk him even more—
“B-baby…”
And that seems to be the last straw for the heat-struck Choso Kamo: who’s lurching his needy body forwards. Pressing one large hand on the upper area of your spine, it doesn’t take much for him to lean his hefty weight down and make you collapse onto the floor-
As you’re toppling - your boyfriend following closely behind as though stuck to you by superglue - he’s placing a forearm underneath your face. A soft cushion.
Making sure you don’t knock yourself on anything- it’s the last act of kindness you’re getting before Choso drills his hips down and pumps out hot, glutinous cum into you again. Head throwing back. Adam’s apple bobbing at the sharp electricity shooting through him—so much of it. And so soon, too.
It must be an effect of the heat, he’s thinking…or at least he would have had it not been for the state he was in.
Utterly ruined. Utterly pussydrunk.
Choso Kamo has his maw pressed in an open-mouthed kiss against the column of your throat, deep shivers wracking through his body as he whines n’ bucks. “B-baby, it just doesn’t seem to stop-” His slippery shaft sticks into your g-spot and you gasp- “I don’t know if it even can stop—”
Both in cumming- and in fucking you.
Without him even calling upon it, his blood manipulation rushes through his body n’ straight to his now-upright cock. Your poor, powerful boyfriend isn’t given a single split-second to let himself go flaccid before his cursed energy takes over again.
He’s rutting and rutting his body forwards. Mouth gaped open at the sensation, and his wet pants synchronizing with the even wetter plaps! of skin-on-skin. They were getting even louder, even sloppier, by the second as Choso’s cum seeps out of your pussy n’ kept getting smeared between your legs.
Hamstrings aching. His abs massaging your back-
Your eyes kept fluttering shut at the sheer pleasure- it was just about past the second round and you still haven’t gotten used to Choso’s sheer size. Only growing and plumpening himself out even bigger as he kept tunneling between your legs—and you swear that damn heat of his left you even more dickmatized than usual, too.
Letting out the prettiest music to his ears as his curved cock slams into your g-spot once more. “Maybe I don’t- hngh, want it to.” You babble out. “Maybe I need you to cum inside- oh, again.”
“Ohhhh, don’t say that.” Pelvis pressed up so harshly against your body that his happy trail scratches you in a way that was so carnal. And any time you’re shifting - Choso has his right hand wrapped around your throat and haaaaauling your weakened body backwards, “P-please don’t say that.” It all comes out in a rush. “If you do then…”
You’re shivering as his nose runs down your throat- drunk on your pheromones. “Then?”
“Then m’gonna cum again.” He whimpers, “And this time I don’t know if I can stop.”
And, truly, Choso could feel his next orgasm building and building at the pit of his stomach - and at the tip of his shaft. It was different than the two before—just a bit stronger, just a bit more electric- he was feeling zaps of electricity shooting to every point in his body; every blood vessel and axiom inside him.
His mind was feeling foggier. His eyes were having a hard time keeping open just from the sheer pleasure of your velvety, wet pussy. Engulfing every inch of him. His hips were rammin’ sloppy strokes into you again and again and again until he-
“I-I—fuck.”
Until he finally explodes into his high.
Tears streaming down his flushed face. Mouth glued to yours.
One hand at your waist n’ swervin’ your hips around so that you can gobble up every ounce of seed he was streaming. Except…
Choso’s eyes shoot open once he realizes-
Except he wasn’t cumming at all.
“Baby, wait.” Because the half-curse surely felt like he was cumming, he surely knew that he’d reached the peak of his pleasure n’ was stretching out that dopamine every time he plunged into you.
And he also knew that your wettened walls were squeezing out every drop like you knew, too, yet he just couldn’t feel a single thing dripping out. Not a single thing.
Choso grips the base of his cock with furrowed brows, “I think I’m…”
“Noooo, don’t pull out.” Needily, you’re reaching behind and clawing at his wrists as he attempts to. Only for Choso to shake his head and replace his engorged cock with a few fingers - it wasn’t as good as his entire length, but it was something.
And then he pumps and pumps his cock- if he couldn’t fuck deep into you then maybe he could coat your pretty pussylips with his glittering sap. But the only thing he’s able to let out is nothing. Cumming dry.
“Dry?” You’re looking behind in interest, and it’s just then that he’s realizing he must’ve said that out loud. Fuck, he’s so gone. “Three times was too many, huh-”
“No.” Choso interrupts, “No- no, baby. Don’t even think of that.” And he’s so tearful—he’s so apologetic at the fact that he couldn’t…
Cooing, “There’s nothing wrong with that, Cho-”
“I know, but…” And he hesitates, but the words disrupt from his throat anyways. “-something in me says I need to stuff you full of my cum until I can…hck- see your tummy bloat with it. Now.”
Your jaw drops at the sight of your innocent boyfriend uttering such words. Such dirty, dirty words.
And before you know it, you’re laid flatly on your back with Choso’s handsome face looming over you. The air between you two charges with cursed energy once more, and his red-hot cockhead sliiiides between your pussylips.
Blood manipulation leaving him harder than ever.
He hisses, “Th-this time, I promise to you m’gonna cum…”
“Whatever you say, baby.” Arms flinging around his broad shoulders.
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 21 rounds…?
You most definitely weren’t going to survive, you think.
The Sukuna Estate has been in an uproar; though this time it wasn’t by reason of an attack, a duel, or the King’s torrid temper. Surprisingly. This time, it was because Ryomen Sukuna had returned from a far-off journey - he’d heard some relative of the Kamo Clan was spouting nonsense about being able to match the four-armed sorcerer in terms of cursed energy, and had gone to put that to the test - and he was victorious.
Of course, he was victorious.
There was no time that he wasn’t. In the few years that you’d volunteered yourself as one of Sukuna’s concubines, you’ve never known the King to lose to an argument let alone a duel.
And of course, it must be said that Sukuna had numerous - if not hundreds - of women and men housed in his Estate. None coerced; the accepted concubines were more residents for his reputation, than anything. Stories had spread far and wide that he accepted those searching for pay, food, or simply a place to stay—and no intimate relations were a prerequisite for anything that they wanted. You could come at any time, you could leave at any time.
He’d long since tired of mortal desires.
Except for the ones you stirred up, of course.
The stories of the Kamo sorcerer’s pitiful defeat had also spread far and wide- and it’d been the subject of much laughter in the concubine quarters lately. In addition to the fact that - in his woeful attempt at snagging a win and a name for himself - the opponent had called on the help of several different clans (the Abe, the Zenin, the Fujiwara traitors) to ambush and attack Sukuna.
Though of course they were fallen. As were their men.
And according to the whispers, the death toll had reached the hundreds before Sukuna made his path back home. Back to you…if you were to be so presumptuous.
It wasn’t a secret that you were his favorite- and the ministers of the Estate are coming straight to you to personally announce that the King was nearing. You’re nodding sagely.
You knew what that meant - as it always did after a battle - that Ryomen Sukuna was hungry. The more struck-down opponents, the hungrier. Not for anything to consume or to refresh, but rather a starvation much more carnal and deeper within—the primal taste for flesh against flesh.
You were sitting in perfect poise and your smile hidden as the door to the master bedroom slams! open. The sliding door splinters on one end- and you shiver as you realize that this was going to be one of those nights…he was famished. The King removes his sokutai robes and lets them drop to the tatami floor with a heave, and then his deep footsteps pad over to you.
“Master.” You start to bow-
“You are aware I have a distaste for when you do that.”
Before you’re peeking up at him with a sly grin. “I’m aware. I just like how it riles you up so much, Kuna.”
His second mouth opens in guffaw.
And Sukuna raises one pink brow, “And I expect you are well-hydrated? For this night shall be long and merciless.”
You smile even wider.
.
.
.
One round.
Two.
Three.
Four—
It was just one round after the other. So many and so often; so many vicious slashes of Sukuna’s hips that already made you lose count- again and again. Your hands cascade down his thoroughly-built front to hold on for dear life. The windows were pulled shut, though you could feel the glowing of daylight behind it. The King was laid back against his oak headboard and helping you straddle his hips - your thighs crushed against the muscular, ridged area of his obliques as his cocks drilled into you twofold.
They were one after the other.
Thrust after thrust.
Stacked on top of one another—the upper length was slightly longer than the bottom one. Numerous inches long. Tufts of dark-pink hair. Getting your inner thighs wet with globs of sweet, sweet cum that dribble out every time he’s pulling out-
And then ramming deeply back in again. Ravenous.
He’s been cumming so many times this night—but he still wasn’t done. He was still throbbing at his heavy balls, no matter how many puddles of sap swashed inside of you. He was still rock-hard and running on his monstrous stamina.
So many times that you’re swearing you feel your eyes sprinting to the back of your skull-
“Ah ah-” One of his four hands lifts up to cup your gorgeous face…or so you think. Instead, Sukuna’s straightening his hand out and swatting the side of your face- jolting you back to your senses.
You’re whining as you’re pulled back. Nose crinkling in irritation, you’re looking at him: and oh—was it a sight to behold. Sukuna’s incredible muscles were pumped up to be even bigger n’ bulkier as he manhandled you on top of him, sweat dripped from in-between his pink brows, and his second mouth stuck his tongue out and laps at his cursed lips with them. Before moving to yours…
Fervent moans crack at the back of your throat as Sukuna’s tastebuds glide-glide-gliiiiide along the sensitive inner parts of your thighs. Before spreading apart your pussylips and rolling over your clit.
As you’re shattering on top of him - your nth high coursing through you like a tidal wave - he chuckles. Both greedy mouths. “Not givin’ up so soon, are you, brat? Do not be like all those other humans-” He spits it out like acid, “-I’ve had to defeat today.”
“B-but…” Babbling out stupidly. Your tears stream down your cheeks, your bottom lip quivers as his hips accelerate. “But I am, human—”
“With a distinct difference.” He answers.
A few more merciless strokes and you’ve given up all hope of attempting to meet his pace. His plap-plapping cadence. His hips against yours, causing such a searing sting that makes your spine arch into his sweaty body.
Into his cursed mouth that wraps its unbelievable length around one of your thighs and uses it like a lasso- tugs you closer to him. Like a ragdoll.
The very tip of his tastebuds start ticklin’ at your clit once more, and you’re feeling your body droop limply into Sukuna’s toned front. Your chin rests between his plush pectorals; and he reaches two beefy arms behind you to guide your hips. To perk you up n’ down, up n’ down, up n’ down—
And with a third palm, the King shuts your drivelling maw- “Besides your…slobber, you are above the title of just any human.” Those mean lips of his dip down to whisper into your ear, “You’re my human. And I expect you to be my future Queen- the future mother of my children.”
A fourth and final one of his hands comes down to press on your cumflated tummy. Just the slightest pressure enough to make hot, white seed foam out of your pussy-
“This royal pussy shall have to drink my cum up until we have an heir, yes?”
And you nod- you nod. You’ve spoken on the matter with the King of Curses before - a somewhat surprising occurrence - and both of you knew you wanted this.
Both of you were weakly pushin’ your hips firmly against his to milk out whatever ropey ounces of cum he was giving. He was flooding your insides. More and more; orgasms crashing into one another—Sukuna cums deeply inside you again with both cocks and it still wasn’t enough for him. “B-but how will we ever…oh, how will we know it’s even taken, Kuna?” Sobbing.
You’re looking down and it’s just an utter mess of creamy cum n’ the glossed-over tufts of his pink hair. Both bulbous tips twitching as they rammed inside you-
Sukuna smiles as he answers, “Oh…good question. Heh.” The inches of his tongue probe between your legs once again, though this time you’re feeling the ridges of his tastebuds enter your stuffed hole instead of merely grazing over your cunt. That prickly sensation glues to the back of your throat. “If my counting is correct, this is about the 21st- ah, round.” Looking down at his muscular stomach for confirmation, his cursed mouth squelches! outward and hums in confirmation. “How about…”
“N-ngh—” And you think if you’re about to cum, your body prevents you from it. Too pushed to its limits, you can only whimper and writhe on top of him-
And as you’re cumming with a mere few twitches, Sukuna’s cum seeps something hot and sticky in the back of your cunt. “Human, milk your King until he can’t cum anymore.”
Until he’s cumming dry?!
Your heart races as you wonder just how many more rounds that would take out of you-
Just how much more stamina does the strongest sorcerer of all time have? How much could he possibly—
It’s as though he was expecting a far stronger fight from his sorcerer counterparts, so any and all pressure was being placed on your cunt now. With Sukuna’s driveling tips so hot n’ ruby-red—plummeting and plummeting between your swollen pussylips in search of drenching your pretty cervix white. He empties out a few more beads of pearlescent white before snickering, “Don’t worry too much for your mortality, brat…”
Your eyes flutter open- and he’s pulling you into a deep kiss. Through that, his reverse cursed energy courses through your own faltering body.
“I’ll be done in one more round…two…five…” He murmurs, “Perhaps another twenty-one.”
♡ INO TAKUMA - 3.5 rounds.
“N-no, I promise…” Ino’s hiccuping hitches were just so cute- they interrupted him mid-sentence and made him sound as though he was pleading. “I promise- this time- now-”
“Baby, you don’t have to force it.” You’re cooing gently.
And he all but sobs- “No- no, no no…I promise I’m not too- hck! overstimulated to cum.”
Though…you’re getting the sense that he really was.
Your proud, stubborn boyfriend was on his knees and begging—his chocolate-brown eyes wide, his brows furrowed, his bottom lip quivering in just the slightest way that was just the cherry on top. Ino gasps as he fists his cock even harder, dragging his palm down its left-leaning curve; again and again.
And you’re peering down at the man as he grows more and more frustrated with himself- at the fact that no matter how many times he’s jerkin’ his cock off…he still refused to cum.
Or, at least, he did cum - just without the creamy white mess that’d usually accompany it.
Three (and a half) rounds and Ino was cumming dry. Cumming nothing. With his body kneeled before you, with his mouth hoverin’ over your glistening wet pussy—he’d been making out sloppily with your pussy- all slathered in wads of his seed from rounds prior. Clenching and warm. And it was just the hottest thing he’s ever tasted.
So you really couldn’t blame the guy for pulling on his reddened cock as he did so…but that was precisely when disaster had struck.
When Ino had quirked the edge of his thumb underneath his sopping wet slit - just how you do it - and out came…absolutely nothing. Absolutely nothing and he was devastated—
“I-I don’t understand.” He’s babbling to himself. His gaze flickers between his angry cock and his even angrier hand- not smeared with cum. “I don’t understand, I always…”
Softly placing a hand on his slim shoulder, “Baby, I told you s’okay.”
“But it’s not okay…” Ino mutters, tone practically a pout. He averts his face from your gaze, “I never last the rounds and rounds they do in books. And lately I’ve been going to the gym n’ everything more to increase my stamina, too.”
“Is that why you’ve been buying dumbbells for the house, too?” You laugh, “And here I thought you were on some strange decorating spree.”
He juts his lower lip out, “Don’t make fun of me, sweetness…”
“I’m not, I’m not.” You’re insisting. And without further ado, you’re holding either side of Ino’s sunkissed shoulders and helping him get up, standing his lanky body before you. He’s dragged to your every whim and want; as you’re taking him by the hand and guiding him to the bed- before long you’re laying back in it with Ino hoverin’ above you.
Wrapping your feet around his small waist, you let his blushin’ cockhead kiss your pussylips. He shivers. “Oh, fuck.”
“That’s what I’m doing.” Slyly, you’re letting him ease inside you- your poor boyfriend’s seeing stars at the sudden stimulation. His hips coming down to hammer his cock into you—
But you’re stopping him with a leisurely hand at his hips, shaking your head with a smile as he stares down at you with teary eyes. A plea on his lips- “Now now…” You’re cutting that sweet noise of his off with a tut, spreading your thighs apart even further n’ letting his rotund cock maze its way inside - sloooowly. “Take it easy, Taku. Easy—don’t worry, we’re gonna make you cum this round, m’kay?”
He’s nodding jerkily- uncertainly. “Y-you can really do that, pretty?”
“Of course.” Raising one brow, “Don’t trust me?”
And he’s hastening to shake his head. Urgent and alarmed. “What- no.” And as though to prove this point, Ino leaves his hips at a complete standstill. Painfully so - for him. “No, no—I would n-never not trust you, sweetness. I was just-”
“Shhhh, I know, Taku.” Soothing him. You push away a tuft of chestnut-brown hair from his sweaty forehead, “I know…”
Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, you’re both staring down at the place where you were connected. His throbbing cock. Your glistening wet pussy.
And then you’re breathing out in a tone that’s low and slow—practically hypnotizing him the more of his inches he’s sweepin’ inside. “Just need you to fuck me, baby.”
He’s shuddering as he bottoms out.
Deeeeeep; those inches are red-hot and vein-covered, massaging your walls as he’s sliding in. The crown of his cock is a circumference you could feel at your very throat- and Ino’s head throws back prettily as he’s hittin’ your cervix a few times. “Sh-shit—”
You’re holding back your giggle, “Everything alright, Taku?”
“No- yes.” And after a few more sloppy strokes, he whines. “No…”
Because how could he be? Less than a few minutes ago, he’d been ruttin’ against your calves and cumming dry into his fist. Right now, he was feeling as though the pearly gates of heaven had opened up wiiiiiide between your legs n’ was sucking his soul with every passing second- even the tiniest slurps of your pussy meant his brow was furrowing.
The tips of his ears growing red, “I-it’s just…I feel like m’gonna cum again.” Ino babbles into your mouth- capturing it in a sinful kiss. “And I think m’gonna cum dry-”
“How’d you know if you haven’t done it yet, hm?” You ask, bouncing your hips up to meet his own. The smack-smack-smacking sounds between you two was all but deafening, “C’mon, baby. Cum inside- hah, fill me up again.”
“Shit- now m’really gonna cum soon…” He’s echoing out desperately. Pelvis rammin’ into yours- and it was already torturous enough for his aching shaft - pistoning deeper and deeper - without your body greedily pushing up into his.
And he feels his heart race as the grin stretches across your face, “Good.” Kissing the soft nape of his neck, it makes his tip ooze out just a little more milky drops of precum. They glue to the pulsating area of your g-spot. “Because I really, really—mmpf.”
And before you know it, your sorcerer boyfriend has reached behind you and clasped- at the discarded ski mask that he was usually known to make.
The soft, fluffy cotton of it glues your mouth shut.
Muffling your lewd words to the back of your throat - you don’t have a chance to get out whatever it is you wanted to say. Whatever it is you knew would drive him over the edge.
And yet, Ino Takuma was still completely and utterly ruined as he punctures his ravenous cock between your legs-
Over and over and over.
“Oh- ngh.” The cutest little whimper leaves his throat, and Ino turns his big, tearful eyes towards you. “O-ohhh, please…sweetness, m’really not joking. M’really gonna cum this time.”
“Mmmm—” Nodding fervently.
“I swear m’gonna do it.” Kissing your forehead in apology for the gag- though he could feel just how wet you were getting between your legs. The sheen of your slick soaks his pelvis, his v-line, and the upper parts of his own thighs. Burned slightly red with constant. “I s-swear m’gonna cum.”
“Do it-” You just barely manage out. Before getting cut off- with both the ski mask being pushed deeper into your mouth, and the squeeze of Ino’s slender fingers on your clit.
Making you see stars-
Toes curling. Back arching. As though a feverish sensation is taking over your body, making your skin perspire and your head throw into the pillows.
And just as your orgasm rages through you, Ino’s does, too.
This time…he’s pumping and pumping his ruddied cock—dragging the luscious curve of it across every single sensitive spot and dip. Those bundles of nerves that he was mapping out. And it’s as if Ino was trying to milk himself - to drag out the wetness of his orgasm if it kills him.
And luckily for him, he doesn’t cum dry.
Somewhat.
He’s beading out a single drop of seed that gets pushed right to the back of your womb- smeared by the rotund curve of his tip.
And then Ino looks at you with watery, content eyes. “I-I did it, sweetness.”
“That you did, Taku.”
“D’you think I can cum again?”
♡ GOJO SATORU - INFINITY.
“Honey, I’m home~”
Which would have been a completely ordinary greeting from your husband, of course. Which would never have made you think twice before you opened the door for him, of course.
Except…there was one little issue.
The Gojo Satoru you’re married to was wide-eyed and crazed on your television screen; Mei Mei’s livestream of the Shinjuku Showdown was playing in 4K on your 115-inch TV. And from your standstill in front of the locked door, you could still see your husband’s black t-shirt starting to tear through once he increases his Hollow Purple to 200% and bursts it right in the direction of Ryomen Sukuna—or more like…the Ryomen Sukuna that was inhabiting the body of your honorary son.
But that was semantics. Or so you liked to think to keep yourself sane in here.
It had been Professor Yaga’s idea to keep you home whilst the battle raged on - there was no telling where the King of Curses would go or attack to gain an upper hand on his opponents. Evil never fought fair. And it was here - in the humble…but not-so-humble abode of your’s and Gojo’s penthouse apartment - that he’d cast the strongest veils.
Talismans and protective omens from far and wide. Around the world.
Over the years, Gojo had taken it upon himself to make your house the safest place in the world - a home for his home—you. He knew the burden that came with being loved by The Strongest, and this was the one thing he could do to alleviate it.
And it was perfect.
But there’d be no home here without your husband. And your stomach twists as you watch the white-haired sorcerer break out in a grin when his compression shirt gets completely torn and his throat nearly slashed.
Sweat glimmers across his defined muscles, and you’re finding it so hard to look away. The battle was reaching a climax- you could tell by the wild look in Gojo’s eyes.
A blur of movements and another explosion of candescent purple-
And then the door clicks! open.
This can’t be.
Surely, this can’t be.
Gojo was still on-screen.
Gojo was crouching over the King’s chosen vessel and watching as the marked tattoos disappear from what is now - and hopefully forevermore - just…Megumi’s face. He seems to be sleeping peacefully, and the victorious sorcerer on-screen presses two fingers to the poor boy’s pulse.
Brows furrowed in concentration- or concern?
Before a brilliant smile breaks out across Gojo’s face- and he nods to some of the others off-screen. Then you’re seeing the livestream falter on a sudden rush of white coats and stretches, a few of the paramedics reaching for your wounded husband as well—
Before you blink and he disappears. The only evidence of ever existing at the Shinjuku site being the bewildered faces of the doctors- and you.
And the fact that that very same Gojo Satoru was before you know.
Chest heaving. Those cloud-white tufts of his hair were messy - a far cry from his usual updo.
And his eyes…oh, his eyes were harrowed.
Empty. Unfocused. As though his mind was still in the midst of battle- though his body’s natural instinct was to come to you. And though power still radiated off of him in waves, it’s nothing of the calm river of coldness that normally layered his body. This was a torrential rain—drenching your living room, drenching the entire apartment.
Pure uninhabited cursed energy; the dam had broken now. The very space he enters drops a few degrees in temperature.
The very same man you’d kissed goodbye before his battle- now with a simple layer of debris and dust covering him. It left him almost ghost-pale, and you wanted to brush it off as though discarding such an omen - he’d won.
With nothing but a few cuts on his brows and his lip, some already healing across his arms, he’d won. And he was standing right before you.
Unsteady on his feet.
He slowly raises his eyes to the livestream behind you and comments, “Ah- that’s a little delayed.” And then his gaze drops down to you - finally, finally drops down to you - and he breaks out into a smile.
Brighter than any sun.
Gojo had escaped the arms of death and run straight to you.
.
.
.
“Mmmm-mmpfg—” The blindfold muffles your mouth perfectly - which should be ironic, considering that all Gojo was thinking about during that damn battle was hearing your voice. At least one last time.
One last time.
And perhaps then, he could pass…peacefully.
But he hadn’t; for who could be stupid enough to underestimate Gojo Satoru? Especially not Gojo Satoru himself. And so here he was: with his hot blindfold gift-wrapping your mouth, and his cock drivelling into you like he was a machine—
In the lewdest doggy position possible; and you only wanted more.
Unable to vocalize, you’re fisting at the sheets- then behind at Gojo’s toned body. Clawing at those rippling obliques of his to try and draw him even further forwards. “M-more…mmmpfore.”
Forwards and forwards.
Even deeper in.
The sudden change in angle makes Gojo’s puckered tip kiss up at your g-spot - even harder than before. And by now you’ve memorized the exact length n’ circumference of him—the exact measurements that were swabbin’ aside your wettened walls and tumbling into every spot you loved so much.
He knew every single one. Every single one.
And he was welcoming himself back- he was making sure you’d never forget him again and again and again—
Gojo’s long since lost track of time- and he doesn’t care. Hours could have passed, days could have passed - but the only thing that really mattered to him was finally having his hands on you—and his cock glued to the back of your pussy.
It was almost concerning how many times he’d stuffed your greedy orifice full - and yet, still kept on cumming. Cumming so long and hot inside you.
“Oh…mmm.” Moans muffled. Lashes flickering shut. And your hamstrings ache with fatigue he couldn’t feel because of his training - the man had just fought history’s strongest sorcerer, for heaven’s sake.
And yet, Gojo wasn’t feeling the slightest bit of lethargy as he loops one forearm underneath your hips and scoops your droopin’ hips back up. Plastering them against his own. Sweat and slick sizzles between your clashing bodies—and Gojo’s voice cracks just a little as he asks. “More…?” Breathless. Higher than usual. Your husband’s eyes were wide and piercing- begging you for an answer.
His red-hot tip was just so ready to explode, and that syrupy white cum was already beginning to drivel out. To smear. To stuff inside. “T-tell me what you want, sweetheart.” He gusts his breath down your spine; absolutely scorching. “Is it more—?”
“It’s more- it’s more-” Sometimes, you wonder if he could read minds. And at the state that Gojo was in right now - you wouldn’t be surprised. Just barely, you’re managing to utter coherent words through those merciless restraints, and oh, how he loved watching you gagging on his blindfold.
Filthy.
Tears flooding your gorgeous eyes. Your spittle cascading down in two streams- either side of your mouth.
Hot cum spills between your legs, and you’re still begging for more.
Hah…Gojo can’t help but plant a loving peck on the side of your messy face. Humming, “Then m’gonna give you more.”
“Yes—” Nodding, you plant your hands on the patch of mattress before you. Attempting to haul yourself up just a lil’ so that you could at least try and match his ramming pace-
“Nuh uh, sweetheart.” Had this been anyone but Gojo, then you would’ve found that smug tone of his oh-so-irritating. Just then, Gojo’s leaning his hefty weight over and pinning you down even further onto the mattress—rubbin’ his blossomed cockhead across every inch of your cunt.
You’re getting cut off mid-gasp.
You’re fucking collapsing. And Gojo’s just colliding into you from behind.
Tangled up into such a mess; he’s drunkenly buckling on top of you and crashin’ and crashin’ his hips into you from above. Nose-deep into the crook of your neck. Mouth parted with constant sensual grooooans—“Wh-whatever my wife wants…” He’s easily massaging your g-spot back and forth a few times, and then pulling all the way out with a resounding pop! “-your husband- The Strongest is gonna get it for you.”
“Yes- yes, Toru…”
“M’serious.” He says in a jagged tone. “You wanted more?” The sudden confrontation of his words make you startle- and you’re giving him a quick nod. To which Gojo runs his buzzing fingertips between the sopping crevice of your folds, “Then m’gonna give you more. Hah, careful not to squeeze too tight.”
At that exact moment, you feel the air…stiffen around the two of you.
It was the same sort of tension you’d felt when Gojo had first entered the apartment: the presence of the world’s most powerful cursed energy. It coiled around your bodies and set your skin alight- before focusing on one particular spot—
Shockwaves run up your spine. And your husband reaches down to pat your stuffed pussy- “Unlimited void.”
You freeze. “M-mmpmf…?” You’ve already talked about such uses of Gojo’s powers with him before - you just didn’t expect it now—but you sure as hell weren’t complaining.
It seems as though Gojo’s cursed energy was coursing through every axiom of him and supercharging it - he didn’t control it. You didn’t know if he could. It was seeping from his body into yours, and turning your slick channel into…that. Whatever it was. Something he could reel his hips back from and rut n’ rut and rut - without it ever getting stuffed too full.
Instantly - and because of the overuse of his powers - Gojo’s feeling his warm tip dribbles out a few more ropes of cum.
And it’s almost like a…challenge at this point: just to see whether he could properly fill that gaping hole of yours. Gojo’s catching his pretty rose-pink lip between his teeth when he gazes down between those tremblin’ legs, “Fuck- see?” Voice growing more ragged by the second, “See—?”
Nodding and nodding.
“Th-this pussy wanted more, and n-now she’ll never get full. Now she’s flooded with me right down to the womb-” Pressing his second palm on top of your stomach. “-and she still wants more. Hungry girl. Now she can take so much more that- hngh.” Getting cut off with a ruinous moan himself - he’s pumping out pearlescent webs once more. Another orgasm.
“That?” You’re choking out.
Breathed between clenched teeth, “That you’re gonna milk The Strongest dry, sweetheart.”
“O-oh…” A jolt of pleasure runs through your body at the notion- or maybe it was just Gojo’s slender fingers tightly grasping your clit. Those digits of his were coated in so much thrumming cursed energy that it drove you mad—“Is that even possible?” That expensive blindfold finally loosens its restraint ‘round your mouth, the constant jostling to and fro causing it to unravel.
“Hmmmm?” Jackhammering hips. Interest piqued. Bolts of lightning shooting from the edges of his eyes as he smiles.
Again and again and again, his shaft scours your insides and stirs every sweet spot up. “I just mean-” Making you feel lightheaded. “How many rounds has it- oh, already been? Are we even sure you can cum dry, Toru?”
“Dunno.” He answers, and your jaw drops.
Just then, you’re sure that he’s hit with another orgasm—and you are, too.
Yours starts out in-between your legs with a sudden twitch- before suddenly the pleasure’s setting your body alight. Your heartbeat thrums in your ears, and Gojo’s humming softly to himself as he fucks you through it.
As he’s letting a few sloppy draaaags out before gritting his pearly-whites and dropping his head forwards. Deeper into the crook of your neck; Gojo lets out moan after moan as he dribbles out squelchin’ cum for the nth time tonight.
One after the other.
Loooong and luxurious. Those satiny ropes are emptied out into the deepest depths of your channel, and he was so thoroughly overstimulated by the charged euphoria that he sobs-
And a lightbulb bursts in the distance.
“M’not cumming dry yet.” Gojo’s heavy balls twitch once he’s plasterin’ them to the forefront of your pussylips. And you can feel them swelling and throbbing after every trickle- “But we have the whole night for that, don’t we?”
“Night? I think s’been days.” You retort, sneaking a glance at the daylight-shimmered curtains.
“Ah, semantics~”
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - 5 rounds.
“I just don’t understand, angel.” Higuruma leans back in his faux leather-bound chair and sighs, his gold-tipped pen coming to tap between his eyebrows as though searching for some button hidden in there - one that would preferably jumpstart the rest of him into normalcy. He continues, “This Fujiwara case has just made me lose all my stamina.”
Because it’s always a long, hard day in the courtroom.
And Higuruma Hiromi knows that - he’s the best defense lawyer Tokyo ever did see. There’s a reason he graduated at the top of his batch, there’s a reason he started his own law firm at around half the age that most of his colleagues do.
There’s a reason that Higuruma Hiromi, criminal defense attorney, makes the tension in courtrooms thicken until they’re almost stifling the second he walks through those polished pews.
But this case…
It was the usual- some poor sap blamed for a white-collar crime that he clearly didn’t do. And though Higuruma had half the brain to eye his bosses strangely, the nature of this case also meant that the prosecuting team was the best of the best—being that they knew how to twist their words.
And Higuruma was left haggard after a single session. Not that he didn’t think he stood a chance - he knows he does, he knows that guy’s getting out scot-free after this - but it’s just that…he had to do this for months.
He had to walk into the courtroom and feel his mind becoming more n’ more fossilized by the second- that damn prosecuting team was abhorrent.
And so here he was.
11:41PM. Cooped up in his office room at home; Higuruma was slumped down at his desk, whilst you stood concerned beside him. As he lets out another prolonged sigh, you’re stepping behind the chair and starting to massaging his firm shoulders - surely knotted to hell and back.
Higuruma shoots you a grateful smile, “It’s awful. I had to sit there and try not to throw my chair at those prosectors for-”
“Five hours.” You’re finishing his sentence.
He’s gazing up at you lovingly, “And even for lawyers they’re insufferable- and that’s coming from me.”
You’re furrowing your brows in humor, “Hey—you’re only half-insufferable.”
That makes him let out a laugh, “But I’m telling you, angel-” And almost as quickly as it came, it disappears. Higuruma’s pinching the bridge of his handsome nose for the nth time this night, “I’m not at that age just yet, but it seems I must work on my stamina. Today was absolute hell.”
“Five hours, huh?” Even saying it out loud made you feel weary, “Y’know how long that’s about?”
“Hm?” He looks at you, “How long?”
Leaning down to whisper in his ear, “That’s about as long as a…” And even before you’re saying the words, you’re sensing the goosebumps that skitter down Higuruma’s neck and even further down his collar. Just how far…you wonder. “-marathon that we have, hm, Hiromi?”
“Yes…” He breathes out. Long, dark lashes nearly shuttering.
He’s been so caught up with that damn case lately- so caught up, he hasn’t had enough time to spend with you. And just the mere mention of it…of being between those pretty legs n’ fucking you for hours and hours is enough to leave him a little heated.
And Higuruma’s meeting your eyes like two magnets that have finally met- first, his lips are on your neck. Then he’s tugging you onto his lap.
.
.
.
“Yes—” Higuruma hisses out- voice pitched into a tone so utterly unlike him. Something so botched in his words, something so ruined—
He’s been fucking your perfect cunt for hours now, and was showing no signs of stopping.
Your attorney husband has a steadfast hold on your hips; from the luxurious chair you’ve moved onto the edge of his desk. Pressed on your front over the mahogany table, hands clawing out haplessly in front of you, ass archin’ up into his vicious thrusts.
The skin ‘round Higuruma’s pelvis has turned red by this point, and he was hissing between his teeth every time his hips came in contact with yours—smack!
So hard that you’re flinching just a little bit.
And that makes a few streams of cum dribble out from between your clenched pussylips- the pure-white sheen of it coating your thighs. Higuruma doesn’t let a single sweet ounce of it go to waste before he’s snaking a hand down and thumbin’ off just a few drops.
And then you’re finding it stuffed between your lips- “M-mmmm…” Your tears form a lacquer down your cheeks, “Hiromi, you’re so filthy.”
“You married me for it, didn’t you?” He grins. Head tipping back just a little once you’re clenching your sopping wet walls in confirmation, “F-fuck, ngh—keep doing that. Just a little tighter, sugar.” And if you were in any clearer of a state of mind, then you’d have noticed that his husky tone was cracking—voice breaking at the tail end of his sentence.
Higuruma was feeling his sanity drip away every time he entered your pussy- but so were you.
You moan, “Need more-”
He pats at your pussy adoringly, feeling the wetness of your slick mixed with his clingy white cum. “More, huh? Sure you can handle it, angel?” Darting a look at the clock, “We’re already on…a few hours. Round five.”
Nodding and nodding.
And you’re all but keening for more as you feel him edge his ravenous cock away - just a few inches. It honestly wasn’t even a movement that should impact the sheer carnal streeeeetch he was bestowing upon you.
But with your needy senses, you’re turning your head over your shoulder. About to mouth off to your husband about pulling away when you were hungry for him the most when-
When you’re seeing that he’d been reaching for that scrap of fabric thrown over his chair.
A stray discardment in the heat of the moment earlier.
His tie.
Your restraints now.
Because in a split-second, Higuruma loops the jet-black fabric around your dangling wrists. It doesn’t take him long to fasten it and tighten it—testing it just by giving it a little pull- he finds himself grinning as your body’s able to be lifted and moved ‘round just by this.
Perfect.
The semi-coarse cloth was strangely sensual against your skin- almost biting.
Higuruma himself leans down to give a small nip at your right shoulder, before he’s leaning back and hauling you—inches off the table. Two hands clasped around your wrists, the cold hiss of his wedding ring matching yours, the red, rotund head of his cock swipin’ inwards and making your walls bulge with the size of him. “O-oh, fuuuuuck-”
His dribbling divot navigates straight to the bottom of your pussy. “Yeah- yeahhhhh, you’ve got this.” Higuruma whispers as your orgasm wracks through you - and his own fifth one was nearing ever-closer. “You can take it. You can take me-”
“Should I be concerned about the- ngh, amount of space I have left?” In unison, you’re snapping your head down at the area between your legs. Limp.
“Concerned?”
Cum was seeping out of you in what looked like bucketloads- in all the physical stamina that Higuruma was determined to prove that he still has. And he sure does - or at least your thoroughly-stuffed pussy seemed to think so - but your husband was still pumping away even harder.
Rougher.
Splatterin’ patterns of syrupy sap on your skin- where contact was being made constantly. Higuruma laps at the gentle leaking with his thumb once more, “Sugar, this pussy was made to take my cum.”
Manhandling you backwards using the restraint of his tie, and slammin’ a final French kiss into the back of your cervix. You feel him start to twitch—in the way that Higuruma always does before he’s about to coat your walls with a layer of cum. “I-inside…” You whine. “All of it- inside.”
“Mhmmm, your husband has you, angel.” And then he’s holding you close-
Tip thickening at the very flared edge, the crown of it, he’s pouring out a few glittery ropes of…nothing. Absolutely nothing. Higuruma’s dark eyes shoot open as it sinks in: he was cumming in every way, shape, sensation, and form—except for the absence of cum. The absence of gooey white cum seeping out his shaft- and he’s feeling it.
But he isn’t drenching your pussy in the way he’s expected to.
And Higuruma seethes- “Angel, I…” Lower lip trembling as he takes in the cum that’d frothed out of you and was now being pushed back, “I-I believe I didn’t-”
“Hiromi, did you cum dry—?” Wonderment seeps into your tone. “I didn’t even know you could do that-”
“I didn’t, either.” There was something akin to…disappointment in his tone. Something akin to sadness, something akin to determination- “I can’t believe I…angel, my stamina is fucked-”
“Baby, you just went five rounds without stopping-”
“And if I don’t cum on the sixth…” That ruby-red tip rubs up against your g-spot, ready to splurge out cum at least this time.
hii congrats on 2k followers. if i may request my lovely senpai, I would love prompt 25。pick two characters from the same series !! with bakugo and eijiro, where bakugo hears you and eijiro fuckinggg and he [ opens the door anyway] because well..he’s feeling left out.
and apologies if i requested the prompt incorrectly! tbh i’d be so geeked if u wrote anything w these two, thank you!! <3
✦ 爆豪勝己 × 切島鋭児郎 ／ mdni
kirishima hears you fucking bakugō while you’re trying to be quiet, and he opens the door anyway
you never intended to fuck either of your roommates, let alone both. but hero work is hard, and you and katsuki have been so pent up and stressed, and above all, you’re attracted to each other.
thus, he has you bent over your bed, plushies still strewn about all over the comforter. your cute face is in the pillows, practically drooling while your buff, gorgeous blonde roommate fucks into you from behind with one of his big hands on the back of your neck.
you’re a whining and hiccuping mess, mumbling to yourself because you’re too fucked out to form a proper sentence that he can hear.
“the fuck are you sayin, babydoll? speak up.”
“love your big cock in my pussy, kats, feels so good, y’fuckin me so good!”
his face instantly goes pink, but you can feel his cock throb inside of you at your filthy words. he scoffs, trying to act tough.
“fuckin’ slut, knew you needed this, drooling over me every fuckin’ day for the past five years. you’re lucky that you’re so cute.” he looks at the sticky, milky mess that collects at the base of his cock, watching how your perfect cunt stretches around him as he slides in and out. it hasn’t even been half an hour, and he’s already in love with it … you’re already his favorite girl.
his other hand is on your ass, greedily pawing and squeezing, in awe of just how big he is compared to you, watching the recoil from all of his thrusts.
“so fuckin’ wet, ugh. better be quiet, ‘less you want kirishima to know how much of a slut you are.”
but that just makes you yelp, nodding, trying to stifle your cute little noises but knowing it’s useless. it feels too good, you’re too cock drunk, and katsuki was right — you had been wanting this for years .. might as well just let go and enjoy it.
“awwww, I know, I know … pretty thing just wants to be used by both of her big, pro-hero roommates, yeah?” and he’s so fucking smug, honestly hoping that kirishima can see how good both of you look right now. he doesn’t have to wait for long, because poor kirishima can hear everything from where he’s sitting on the couch in the living room. it takes him some time, but he finally gathers the confidence to open your bedroom door.
“you’re talking about me while fucking her?”
“yeah, and?” bakugo says nonchalantly, slowing his pace but still languidly rolling his hips to fuck you, giving kiri a perfect view of how his abs flex, how your cute pussy welcomes him in. kirishima’s thick, half hard cock twitches in his sweatpants.
“kiri …” you whine, looking up at him with angel eyes and the cutest pout, sniffling into the pillows. you want to reach for him, but you’re too fucked out. “hi, pretty. you enjoying yourself? though, bakugo can be so mean, huh? poor thing.” kiri purrs, walking to the bed and lovingly playing with your hair, cradling your face.
“m-mhmm, feels so good, but I want you here.”
“fuckin’ brat. nothin’s good enough for you.” bakugo smacks your ass, just once, then moves his hand to find your clit. it makes you cry out and your legs fold together, but he keeps them in place. “shhh, baby.” kirishima whispers, immediately easing you.
“take her mouth, because I’m not pulling out right now.” katsuki offers ; he’s still a bit jealous, even if he wanted this.
but kiri is sweet, so he kisses you first. “hi, pretty girl,” he lulls, holding your face as you moan into his mouth, letting your tongues slide against each other and savoring your sweet taste.
he makes sure that you’re comfortable as he settles into your pillows and plushies, bakugo eyeing you both carefully, his middle finger still rubbing your clit, making you whine and cry.
kiri slips his shirt off and you could drool just from looking at him, and you literally start salivating once he pushes his sweats down to his muscular thighs, sighing as his gorgeous, massive cock springs free. you whimper kiri’s name and he dotes on you, telling you how beautiful you are, and how you’re doing so good for them. bakugo is a lot to handle, so he is actually impressed.
kiri’s big, maybe even a bit bigger than katsuki. his tip is already blushed and needy, leaking with precum that you eagerly lick off. he moans, already much more vocal than bakugo, which you love.
just like with katsuki, it’s going to take a lot of work to make him fit.
Synopsis. In this season of The Bachelorette, 22 of Japan’s hottest bachelors vie for a chance for your hand…and between your legs. A plethora of eligible men from a buff personal trainer to a handsome lawyer, to a white-haired model with way too much charm—this might just be the steamiest season yet!
Pairings [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, The Bachelorette AU, reality TV, interviews, confessionals, sIight pIot, one-on-one dates, rose ceremonies, máting presses, they’re FÉRAL, spítting, chokíng, manhandIing, sIight bréeding, tummy buIges, DlLF!Toji, semi pubIic (Ino), sIight exhíbitíonism, sIight bòndage (Higuruma), p talking, p sIapping, fuII neIsons, DÚMBIFlCATION, cervíx smooches, MMA fighter!Sukuna, HEADLOCKS, Gojo’s PÚSSYDRÚNK, babbIing, creampíes, cúmpIay, proposals, possessive!JJK men, showing off, surprise at the end, you get to actually choose, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. Those pics from Artemis II are making me saur emotional- also Happy Easter to everyone that celebrates!
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - First rose.
“Name? Toji Fushiguro. Age? Hah- who’re you to ask?” Even his introduction sounds like he’s sizing everyone in the studio up, a single unimpressed brow raised. In front of him Toji keeps his beefy arms crossed - both to stave off the awkwardness of speaking to a rolling camera, and to flex his biceps—just a little bit.
They were still filming the footage of their introductions - Toji hasn’t even entered that infamous mansion yet and somehow he finds his knee bouncing.
He doesn’t know whether he wants to (reluctantly) thank Shiu or throttle him for signing him up for this…bachelorette show. Is this what the youth was interested in these days?
Verdant eyes darting around the dimly-lit room, “I work as a personal trainer, among…many other things.”
A producer probes from one end, “And are you confident you’ll be picked, Fushiguro-san?”
“Confident?” He can’t help but crack a smile at that, “Please- who wouldn’t pick me? One night is all I need.”
A sudden hush falls over the studio—cameramen meeting eyes with each other, and producers who simply couldn’t see past the multi-million yen signs that were popping up in their vision. They’re rubbing their hand together, and urging the handsome man on the seat to continue speaking-
The producer that was more in charge of the B-roll footage speaks to Toji once more, “Now that’s certainly the way to enter this season, Fushiguro-san.” Flipping through the notes given on each condition, “And what else? Could you please tell the audience what you like to do for fun?”
“Hah…going to the gym, martial arts, taking care of my little one.” He scratches behind his neck.
“You have a child, Fushiguro-san?”
“Yeah, I have a son. Just six years old.” And he wonders just what booming sound effect they might add on into the background of this confession. He chuckles just thinking about it - how did Shiu convince him to come on here again? Well…he supposes it might also have something to do with you.
Toji’s eyes slide over deftly to the small screen at the back end of the room - just to get the contestants more familiar with you prior to your actual meeting at the mansion, they were replaying raw B-roll from your own introduction.
And Toji isn’t one to latch onto someone like that but- fuck, his eyes really couldn’t stop drifting over.
The curve of your smile. The way you’re looking behind you.
The way those lashes of your flutters just so—
He’s sure the cameras around him notice and hone in on the slight flickering of his peripherals, and he has to shake his head ever-so-slightly to stop himself from making a fool out of himself right here and now. “Yeah…” He rubs his roughened palms down his thighs, “Could you ah- repeat that last question?”
A few crew members chuckle. “Do you think that being a dad is going to hinder your chances in any way, Fushiguro-san?”
“Nah.” He leans back n’ tightens his crossed arms, scarred lips parting with a grin. “I’m a Fushiguro and I always get what I want—and I know what I want now.”
Eyes wafting over once more.
.
.
.
Most of the contestants still remained after the introduction phase - other than a few that were just plain rude, or the two-toned Zenin bastard that was kicked out for his outdated opinions. Upon entering the mansion, Toji Fushiguro had received your first impression rose that night - a signal to Toji that you’re keeping your eyes on him, and a signal to the 21 other men to up their damn game.
They were threatened, clearly.
Perhaps that’s why some of them were throwing disgruntled looks his way. Perhaps that’s why they ducked their heads whenever he passed, whispering behind their hands like high schoolers at a slumber party of some sort.
He’s witnessing this bizarreness as he trudges into the mansion’s vast kitchen. And honestly, Toji could almost laugh- but that’s before he’s catching a shred of what garbage they’re spouting.
“—heard production discussing that he’s a dad.”
That makes him pause.
Though Toji doesn’t let it show on his face, he keeps his hands working on his bottle of protein shake- and his ears turned in the direction of a bunch of stupid bastards that didn’t think they could be heard.
They shoot a few glances at him once more—“You really think she’s gonna fall for an older guy like that? I bet you it’s a pity rose-”
“It’s to get the ratings up, duh.” Another pipes up. “Everyone knows that in the end, she’s never going to go for the old guy.”
“A dad, at that.”
“Shouldn’t he be with his kid, instead?”
“I don’t think she even knows-”
“Probably too embarrassed to tell her-”
SLAM!
The protein shake bubbles over as Toji struggles not to grip it to bits- ultimately ending up banging it down on the marble counter. The group of men swivel their heads around as they realize that he might just have ended up hearing—not so geriatric now, huh?
And Toji feels his face twist into something akin to…a smile. Something welcoming, that you’d never catch dead on his face.
He’s looming one step towards them - just one step - when lo and behold you’re making your way into the kitchen. Baring such a beautiful smile at them all.
And who was Toji to pummel some ugly faces in when your gorgeous one was watching?
Instead, he’s taking you by the hand.
Not even a second glance at the stunned losers left behind- Toji’s dragging you to the quietest, most private room he can find in this house filled with bachelors. Ultimately—it ends up being his room, and the cameras and microphones can only catch snippets of his confession to you.
“There’s something you hafta know.” Comes out Toji’s usually-gruff tone, “I’m a dad.”
A pause.
And then your voice, “Dad? Like…zaddy?”
Beside himself, he laughs. “No. A dad—I have a son.” And by that excited look in your eyes - the way it piques your interest that this might just be the hottest DILF you’ve ever seen - he already knows that those other bastards are going to eat their words.
.
.
.
“S-so about that- ngh—” All the cameramen had been kicked out - just in time for Toji to let you grapple him onto the creaking bedsprings. Clamoring on top. Swallowing n’ sucking down as much of his thickened length between your legs as you could.
You’re feeling his incredible girth stretching you out- throwing your head back as far as it would go.
As you’re babbling and drooling on his sheer length, Toji clasps onto one side of your hips. He’s using but a fraction of his strength to bounce you towards him - in a figure-eight motion that could barely be completed given the sheer shakin’ of your thighs. Squeezed around him.
Rolling his sage-green eyes with rough laughter, he’s spreadin’ his meaty thighs and bucking up into you—the edge of his cock bulges even deeper inside. Deeper than you ever thought possible.
Deep enough that your stomach was displaying a slight bulge where he was pushing his erection against your walls. At least you could feel it like so…and the older man wastes no time before reaching up and pressing the front of his palm against it—feeling for that cylindrical outline. “So? Cheh- finish your sentences, doll.”
“I was just about to…” You pout- and he coos. How cute…
Before craning his head down and spitting between those jutted-out lips of yours. Toji looks up at you through the gaps in his shaggy black bangs, “Are those lips wet enough to finally enunciate your words or do I need to spit again?”
“I was saying—so about you being a father…” You’re trailing off - and there’s a glint in his eyes that lets you know that you’ve certainly caught his attention now. Shyly continuing on with the cockdrunken thought that’d been tumbling around your head, “This is definitely too soon- too forward, but um…have you ever thought about perhaps wanting…another…?”
You could barely meet his eyes- fuck.
Though he doesn’t seem to mind that. He’s wrapping his large hand around your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes either way, breathless. Stunned.
Something so charged between the two of you that it’s easily leaving you even wetter—staining the ridges n’ muscles of his abs with your slippery slick.
Toji leans in close enough that you think he’s about to kiss you. Before he suddenly stops - lips millimeters away from your own - and asks. “Who said you could stop, mama?”
Your eyes widen, “Wh-what—oh.”
And you hadn’t realized that in your tension for his response- you’d completely halted your bouncing hips. You’d completely let your cadence peter out.
And Toji Fushiguro couldn’t have that, now, could he? Especially not when he was…
Before you can even gather your thoughts, he’s arching his sculptured back against the comfy mattress. And fuck- you almost wish you had those cameras right about now—because the way his muscles rippled beneath you was heavenly to look at - Toji smirks like he knew exactly what you were thinking about.
That smug quirk of his lips turning into something far wider, something far more feral once he’s holding onto you from beneath and rut-rut-rutting his slick-sheened cock into you.
Hard hits. Dark brows furrowing in concentration.
Despite you being the one above, you’re completely at the mercy of his swollen cock.
At the mercy of his heavy balls plapping! against the forefront of your cunt. At the way he’s using one hand to keep you stable on top of his vicious pelvis, and the other to press down upon that one spot on your stomach where he could feel himself—Toji runs his calloused fingers across where his reddened tip was pokin’ into your cervix.
Bashing away - he smiles as he feels every single one. Every single bruise he’s pounding out into your deepest depths.
And you’re wracking with shivers on top of him once Toji presses down. “Like I said- who said you could stop?”
There it was again. “I-I mean—”
“If you want to be fucked pregnant, then you’ve gotta continue until those pretty legs of yours are begging you to stop.” Your jaw drops as he continues in his hoarse tone, “You’ve gotta need it.” He tap-taps on top of your core, where your poor innards were being absolutely molded to the thickness of his cock. Vein-covered and hot. “You’ve gotta hunger for it—”
And it doesn’t matter what he could say at this point - every single word was sending your mind spinning even further. “I am-” The globes of your ass stinging at the feeling of his contact-driven body beneath.
“Nuh uh. You’ve gotta work for it, girl—” Emphasized by pushing down on that spot of your tummy once more, “Arch your back.”
Whimpering, you can’t help but listen.
“Heeeeeh- good.” And as a reward, his free hand finds itself slitherin’ between your swollen folds. So sensitive that you’re damn-near sobbing- he teases out your cute clit and gives a few good pinches. “Now clench your pussy. Swerve your hips ‘round and ‘round.”
“L-like this?”
“Mhmmm. You’ve gotta keep on milkin’ my cock for every last drop m’gonna give-”
Your gaze drops between your legs, “I-”
“And then it doesn’t matter if m’shooting blanks—you’ve gotta milk me even more.” Something crazed in his eyes, he’s leaning into your kiss with a smile. Again and again; he’s splitting up the sweetest syrupy orifices inside you - and with only a few more sloppy slashes inside, you’re feeling your body get overcome by the waves of your high.
It fills you up with an initial warmth- from the tips of your toes and to the crown of your head.
Toji snickers as he fucks you through the soaring pleasure, making you feel as though you were on cloud nine. You’ve never known yourself to cum this easily with someone else before - and it’s only growing stronger and stronger inside of you given every thud-thud-thud against your cute g-spot.
Roverin’ his red, rounded tip and keeping it there—
You swear you feel his rock-hard cock start to bead out in even more pre- and perhaps something…even more?
“Follow all that n’ we’re not just going to win the season with an engagement…” Toji snickers to himself, palm massaging over the tummy bulge he was fucking into you. “But a baby, too.”
“O-oh…”You wondered how the producers were doing to explain away this.
♡ NANAMI KENTO - HEART RATE <3
“My name is Nanami Kento, I’m 27.” Such a deep, droning tone—one that immediately catches the attention of those watching, one that immediately sets the speakers slightly, sensually alight.
The camera pans upwards, up and up: revealing a firm torso, clad in such a smart suit. Sculptured core. Strong shoulders. Blond, slicked-back hair that glistened with a thin sheen of gel underneath the studio lights.
Nanami wonders what clips they’d be playing for his B-roll montage - something with the mock-business calls the producers made him act out, something with the sweet treats he bakes as a hobby, something with the long walks on the beach.
The entire process has been a whirlwind ever since Shoko signed him up- for a joke, mind you.
He never expected to actually see himself on trash- ahem, eccentric television.
And yet, here he was.
Hot around his collar as he sneaks a glance at a small screen to the side, replaying raw footage of the show—but most importantly, you. Nanami gulps.
“I’m looking for something serious.” He hopes he doesn’t sound as awkward as he feels, and the tips of his ears tingle once he’s looking away from the screen. “My friends signed me up for this show because they think I’m married to my work- hah. Perhaps I do tend to get caught up in it sometimes, but I really do hope to get married someday…to someone sweet, someone tender.” Nanami glimpses at your smile once more, “To someone I can come home to- not a physical house, but to someone I can leave my heart safe with.”
A producer whispers a question.
“Oh? What’s my position at work?” He repeats the question, before staring straight down the barrel of the camera, “CEO.”
.
.
After an early coupling—the producers couldn’t have anyone closed off too early, of course. Where was the fun in that?
And so came…the challenges.
Just a few days into mingling, the producers pulled you aside to let you know that you’d be taking part in the first challenge of the season: The Heart Rate challenge.
The rules were simple - you were subjected to three minutes of a striptease from each of the contestants, in whatever manner and outfit they chose. In the meantime, a heart rate monitor would be tracking your BPM to announce which contestant had raised your heartbeat the most with their performance.
Simple…right?
Not.
Not quite when there were 18 (a slight drop from the initial 22) of some of the hottest men baring you with their washboard abs- showing off their sculptured shoulders- shyly bringing themselves closer to you. And though it’d been a tie between a certain white-haired model and your favorite DILF (who’d promised he’d be the one to win), who would’ve guessed that calm, collected Nanami Kento would’ve been the one to catch your eye the most?
He was clunky in his moves, that was true, but the ultimate killing shot came towards the end of his somewhat-awkward routine—when Nanami had leaned in close- half-dressed in his suit, tie dangling ‘round his neck - he’d forgone any extravagant costume.
Closer and closer. You were sure he’d be kissing you before…he gently grasped your hand and pressed his lips to your inner wrist.
Right on the erogenous zone.
To you, at least, it hadn’t been a surprise when Nanami had won the heart rate challenge.
Toji’s jaw had dropped- the producers were loving this.
And your reward - a night at a getaway suite with no cameras - had ended up a little…
“N-ngh—” Your mouth gapes open on top of the silken pillowcase, spit leaking out at a dizzying rate. Back arching. Thighs clenching-
Nanami shoves a hand between your pretty legs n’ spreeeeads your pussylips apart for him to slip in easier. “Now now, my love…” His smoky breath rumbles beside your temple, head bowed into the crook of your neck. The blond man feels a single line of tears splash down your cheeks, and he’s running his flattened tongue up the salty liquid- “Has this pussy never been fucked by a gentleman before?”
Before you know it, the rugged hand at your core smacks! down on your puffy lips. And you whimper- “Shit, no—?”
“Oh, reeeeeeally?” Nanami’s sweet, sweet tone coos at you—and you’re given no warning before his beefy right arm wraps around your neck in a headlock. “I fear I could tell, darling.”
Just the slightest twitch of his grin- pressed against the clammy side of your neck.
It’s all you’re getting before Nanami’s reeling his toned back even further, even hungrier - he lets his reddened, bulbous tip throb-throb-throb at your first ring of muscle before shoving it all the way down to the bottom. All the way until your walls have gobbled him down to the hilt, and you’re gasping as you struggle to take him.
Spit drivelling. Fists clenching the pillowcase.
And so he waits.
Juuuuuust waits and watches his massively thickened length disappear between those pussylips of yours. Until you’re starting to whimper. Until you’re starting to perk your hips up impatiently-
And Nanami plasters you to his firm body- the weight of his hips leaning down upon yours. The muscles of his v-line digging into the globes of your ass. Pinning you down to the comfy mattress—he’s then languidly gliding his shaft in and out. In and out.
With the most lecherous squelches! Nanami starts off slow at first - looooong and languid…before then thrashin’ himself carnally inside. “Easy—easy there.” Raspy whispers in your ear, “When you take a cock this- hah, big you hafta take it slooooow, my love.”
Your legs twitch as he’s easing inside a few inches even deeper, probin’ that girthy top into the base of your cunt. “Sh-shit…”
“C’mon.” Nanami grumbles, “Breathe with me, my love- breathe.”
“Breathe?”
“Mhm—s’what you do when it’s hard to take.” He huffs, “Never been taught that by those other boys, hm? Never been made to stretch like thiiiiiis-” Just as long as he elongates his words, his knobbly fingertips scissor open your crevice slightly- making it even easier for him to slip in and out. “Never had this needy pussy fed- hah, until she’s full? My poor lady…Never had these spots over here-” You’re trembling as he swipes down tender orifices, “-stimulated, hm?”
Shaking your head.
He audibly controls his breathing, urging you to do the same.
“Thought so. Now breathe in slooooow—” The blond man directs you- and when you’re taking too long to listen, he’s slammin’ his hand down on top of your cunt with another spank. “Yeah-” Once you’re listening to him after a few struggling seconds- “Yeah, you’ve got it. Take in a deep inhale f’me…”
Just as you do, your stomach contracting with the action, he’s mazin’ away a few more lewd inches - his palm skidding upwards to press down on your stomach. Feeling for himself as he pushes and pushes and pushes inside—“And then- fuck. Then exhale.” Nanami’s usually-steady tone almost…wavers as he says so.
“It feels so—mmm, good.” You’re babbling away as he slots inside. Almost as if your cunt was made for him, he’s lodging against every slick ridge, crevice, and bundle of nerves.
Hitting all the way at the very bottom.
He cracks a little smile, “And that’s how a gentleman fucks.”
Hiccuping, those torturous strokes of his made you wrack with primal shivers. “B-but I want it more-” Attempting to push yourself up onto your elbows, “I want it harder, Nanami-”
“Kento.”
Before you can babble out something questioning at his sudden interruption, you’re being shoved right back down onto the springy suite bed. The luxurious mattress engulfing you. The globular head of Nanami’s cock propels even deeper inside you.
He crushes his bicep even harder around your neck- cutting off your airway.
Even harder.
And you’re choking n’ sputtering - both on the stronghold he had on you, and on the thorough movements of his shaft shovelling inside. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as he lodges himself straight at the spongy door to your womb.
Nanami tugs you up to his firm front then, “Call me Kento when we fuck.” Something different in his tone now - something dark and barely held back. It’s as though he was gnawing down on his bottom lip to keep himself in check, he lets out a roughened grunt as he plants one hard stroke—one incredibly hard stroke. “And be careful what you wish for, darling.”
For a gentleman never denies his lady, right?
You whimper.
Steadying his hips, he’s somehow managing to stretch your delicate walls out to his shape. Somehow managing to rub n’ pinpoint the most sensitive areas with his flared ridges. Already locating where your sweetest spot was- Nanami inches his long cock backwards and bashes it right near your g-spot.
Harder and deeper. Harder and deeper. Again and again. Just so thorough that it feels as though his round, red tip was pushing into your very throat.
In just a few sloppy strokes, he’s mapped out your entire cunt.
And no matter how much you’re moanin’ and clawing at the headboard - attempting to pull yourself up as though you’re caught between fucking down to him and moving yourself away - Nanami merely has to tighten his beefy arm ‘round your neck and haaaaaul you right back down. Pressing you against his plush pecs.
“For m’not going to leave this cunt high n’ dry like those other boys-” He whispers in your ear, callused fingertips darting down your slippery crevice to pinch your clit. Those pearly white canines of his nip at the shell of your ear, “I’ll have you know that I’m a man, my love. I’m a gentleman.”
Tears welling up in your eyes, “A-and that means…?”
“And that means I’m going to treat you as this lady-” Rolling over your sweet nub - it sends sparks up your spine. “-deserves to be treated. I’m going to take you out to a nice- loooooong dinner. I’m going to fly you out anywhere your sweet heart desires, my love. I’m going to take you out shopping and- fuuuuck.” The irritated end of his shaft trickles out hot precum, “I’m going to let you try to max out my debit cards- ”
You catch his emphasis, “Try?”
He chuckles, “You sure can try. And then…” Before you’re left eagerly wondering what else he has to say- Nanami rests his cockhead against your g-spot inside.
And then he’s making your poor walls bulge with the sheer force of him digging in and in- such raw pleasure that it makes moans rip at your throat. He didn’t know where you were drooling more from at this point - your mouth or your cunt.
Nanami’s golden hair nearly curtains his gaze now, though that doesn’t shield you from the sheer intensity of it. “And only then am I going to fuck this pretty lady.” He plasters his reddening pelvis against the globes of your ass cheeks, “After such a long, hard day of being spoiled- best believe that m’gonna fuck her to sleep. Fuck orgasm after orgasm out of you.”
“A-and what about you?” You’re turning your head backwards to get a good look at the handsome man, “Aren’t you going to cum, Kento?”
“Oh, my love…” It was just so cute how fucked you were - how you still had your manners despite being so. The sweetest smile graces his face, “Having you cum ‘round my cock is my greatest pleasure.”
And then you’re cumming.
Oh- you can’t help it. Head throwing back into his collarbone. Hands grasping at his own- ones in a headlock around you.
Those zaps of electricity curl at your toes, heat taking over your body, and all it takes is a single glide—down the pulsating area of your g-spot for you to be thrown completely over the edge. Wave upon wave of euphoria floods your body until you feel numb- and through it all, Nanami’s slick-glossed cock was shoving into you at a rapid rate. “Please…” Your mouth waters at the perfect way that Nanami was fucking you through each peak, “Sh-shit, it feels so good-”
Vein-covered cock massaging you up and down, in and out.
Even the tiniest bumps of his prominent veins leave you seeing stars- twinges of pleasure exploding between your legs. Your body goes slightly limp during the crescendo of your high.
“Oh, don’t tap out just yet, my love.”
And something primal inside you twitches at the sound of calm, cool, collected Nanami Kento’s voice like this- before you’re feeling his buff arms pull you right back to him.
“Because this is just the beginning-” He presses a soft kiss to your temple, “-isn’t it, my love?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - One-on-one.
“Hm? Oh, who doesn’t like long walks on the beach?” Geto laughs something deep and rich- unabashed. Blowing his knee-length hair out of his face, some of those Stygian strands get tucked delicately behind one ear. “My name is Geto Suguru, I’m 28, and I’m a professional masseuse.”
Geto’s murky amethyst eyes stare down the camera.
He already knows he’s got them captivated.
He crosses his legs, hands intertwining on top of them. Geto’s smile was utterly feline towards the lens, “And don’t take this the wrong way, but…” When his best friend had jokingly suggested joining this show- he didn’t think that it’d be so fucking fun. “-I’ve never had to chase anyone in my life.”
Geto feels the temperature in the studio drop a few degrees.
A producer stutters, “Y-you aren’t serious…are you, Geto-san?”
“Dead serious.”
He might get his scenes cut out and edited together to paint him as the villain- he doesn’t care. Because it was true—really.
All the confessions, the letters, the sneaking glances down the street. It wasn’t a lie that Geto Suguru never had trouble with the ladies and gentlemen and everyone in-between - to the point where he’s almost grown bored of it. But—you?
He’s seen the raw footage of you on the screens around, and he can’t deny that he was damn intrigued.
You were a challenge. You were someone that made his heart race- and oh, wasn’t that a strange feeling?
“So it’s nice that the roles are flipped for once.” He continues, flashing that infamous smile - breaking a few hearts, or so he’s sure they’ll make it seem so in production later - at the camera once more. He knows how these shows go…“At least, for now.”
.
.
.
“Fuck, Suguru-” Dreamy mewl echoing out in the enclosed space, bouncing off those polished wooden walls. It sounded even louder in the production-made massage room - like music in Geto’s ears.
Geto’s expert hands slide down your body, coated in a sheen of oil.
It smears down your skin—illuminating the spots that he touched. Which seemed quite fitting, in your opinion, as wherever Geto’s fingers traced seemed to leave you alight - his thumb digs into one particularly stubborn knot on your right calf and you shiver.
“Tell me if it gets too much, gorgeous.”
“I will.” You just barely manage out.
The numbers had dropped down to 15, and it’d been time for the one-on-one dates. After your getaway with the blond man, Geto had been the first to whisk you away from the mansion once more—and needless to say that production was having a lot of fun with his profession as a masseuse. The best in Tokyo, actually.
Clients travelled far and wide for an appointment with him - and you’re beginning to understand why.
With you spread face-forward on the smooth table, with your arms crossed in front of you- lips cracking gently open with a sigh once his rugged fingers touch on just one spot—
“R-right there.” On your inner thighs. Too aware of the cameras surrounding you two, you still can’t keep the pleasure out of your voice.
And Geto shifts aside the towel on your otherwise-naked body - shooting a content smile at the camera as they don’t get to see - to rub up on that specific spot once more. “Here?”
Biting on your lower lip, you’re nodding your head. “There.”
Bit by bit. Press by press; he’s inching up the plane of your right leg - kneading and unravelling those knots you didn’t even know you have. He massaged you so well that you could moan. And just as Geto’s fingertips are about to become so blissful that you might have to ask him to pause - not for you, but for the cameras - he speaks. “You’re very tense here, I can tell you don’t let yourself rest.” The crowns of his thumbs rolling circles at your inner thigh, “You have so many knots here- if you want, I could…nevermind.”
And you’re looking over your shoulder at him with an anticipating gaze. “What was that, Suguru?”
“It’s stupid.” He shrugs sheepishly- though the glint in his eyes was telling you a whole different story. “It’s just…there’s this other type of massage that I never actually offer- but it might help you…unravel your body a bit more. But forget about it-”
“Let’s do it.”
And his lips quirk upwards.
And you knew what he was inferring- you fucking knew it. Which is exactly why you’re holding back a slight smirk as it takes Geto Suguru exactly 1 minute and 30 seconds to kick the camera crew out.
Then less than that to hoist himself up onto the massage table as well, to tug his baggy pants down, n’ have you bouncing on his cock.
Spit leaking down one side of your lips as you’re crashing your mouth against his pretty, puckered one- moaning straight into the hot, open-mouthed kiss as Geto’s thick cock swabs inwards. He was just about eight inches, and decorated with so many veins—he might just be stretching you out in ways you never thought were possible to feel before.
The plumpness of his cockhead, the zig-zagged patterns of his veins.
Geto didn’t just have his size going for him- he manages to curve his incredible length just perfectly inside your tight channel. Targeting your sweet spot within mere moments of finding himself between your legs—“Oh-ohhhh.” Crackling out from the back of your throat, “S-Suguru, that feels sho good.”
“Sho good, huh?” You feel his grin against your own mouth, “Don’t tell me you’re that cockdrunk already, gorgeous? And I haven’t even used my fingers on you, yet…”
Before you know it, he’s reaching up his mean left hand- letting it smush your cheeks together. You’re sure that that makes you create such a lewd expression upon your features, but Geto merely beams down at you as though you were the most beautiful creature he’s ever set his eyes upon.
Amethyst peripherals murky with something indiscernible. “C’mon- can you say something without slurring? Can you count from one till ten?”
Crossly- you couldn’t believe his sheer audacity right now. “Of course I can count until—ngh.” Only to be cut off with a thorough slash of his rounded cockhead- you feel it throbbing right against the spongy layer of your cervix.
Gluing himself even deeper with a few wads of his sploshin’ sap. He cracks a smirk, “That’s not the way you count till ten.”
Your mouth gapes.
And Geto takes his long, lingering time to lean closer and spit straight between your stunned lips - before using that left hand of his to close your mouth. “You’ll catch flies, gorgeous.” He titters to himself. The massage table creak-creak-creaks with each thrust of his - and his pace was something thorough and lingering.
Geto knew that his mushroomy tip felt good - and he was using it to his advantage. Not a single hammer of his hips was without reason—he was making sure to massage all the inner linings of your walls - every nook and hidden crevice - before he’s emptying out dollop after dollop of pre at the very bottom of your pussy. Giggling to himself at the way you’re utterly ruined on his long, long length- “Yeah- fuck, yeah. My poor baby can’t even speak?”
Your g-spot, however…he merely teases. Lightly grazing his flared tip near that treasure trove of nerve ends, but never quite hitting it. Again and again.
The velvety walls ‘round that spot quiver with need.
“But can she at least remember her own name?” He echoes. And throughout it all, you’re mindlessly attempting to angle your hips further into his- the ruthless man grabs onto a handful of your hair with his right hand. Jerking your face to look into his own, “I said- can she at least remember her own name?”
You hiss at the searing burn—
“Tell me your name, my cockdrunk girl.”
“Suguru- fuck.” Barely even registering the question - you doubt you could even hear him by this point.
Merely babbling away expletives at the way he’s fucking his cock up even more rudely—he’s poundin’ and poundin’ up into you in sloppy, structured hits. Deep. And Geto peers up into your dazed pupils whilst he fucks you - whatever he’s seeing there makes him smile, “Suguru? Heh- you think that’s your name, gorgeous?”
Mouth gaping, “I-I mean…”
“Well, you’re not technically wrong.” He hums- more to himself than anything.
And by now he’s rammin’ his length away into you at such a pace that the pap-pap-papping sounds were nearly louder than your own mewls. The sheer pressure of the strokes leaving you limp. Tenderly, you’re pushing your face into the sweaty crook of his neck- only for Geto to pull you back once more with the vicious restraint he has on you.
Making you stare into his ravenous gaze, “Look at me when m’speaking, gorgeous- you might be fucked stupid but you’ve gotta remember your manners, right?” Taking your cutesy whimpers as an affirmation, “And you might not be Geto Suguru but…how about Mrs. Geto Suguru?”
Shockwaves of pleasure cascade down your spine.
“Yeah- yeah, you like that?” Snickering to himself - who’d have thought you’d be such a romantic? He was, too…not that he was fucking you like it.
Geto was fucking you rough and hard- bruisin’ his rotund girth at the back of your pussy. He was leaving his mark for anyone else that came after - let them know that he’d been the one to make you feel so good. “I can take your last name, too, if you’d like.”
You’re breathless, “You- you really want to win—”
“Oh? So you can speak.” He speaks with slight amusement, “And, gorgeous- I really want to make you mine.” His tip bulges even bigger at the feeling of you clamping down- shit, it feels so good that he has to gnaw down on his bottom lip to keep from making any embarrassing noises. Panting out again, “Mrs. Geto Suguru.”
“Fuck-” You’re bouncing down onto his gluttonous cock.
“Mrs. Geto Suguru-”
“Please-”
“Mrs. Geto Suguru—” The pretty man smiles to himself as he’s finally - finally - pressin’ down on the button of your g-spot. Watching as your thighs quake, watching as your eyes spin to the back of your head. “Cum on my cock, Mrs. Geto Suguru.”
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
Who the hell doesn’t wait after knocking?
Surely part of the producers’ ploy; both your heads snap in the direction of the massage room door to see a flash of auburn hair—followed almost immediately by the door slamming closed once the intruder registers what he’s witnessing. And a familiar skater boy’s voice emanating through the slim wooden panel, “S-sorry–!”
You and Geto can do nothing but look at one another.
You’re sure the rest of the contestants would be hearing about this very…very soon.
Though Geto doesn’t look perturbed in the slightest. And he’s the first to move-
He’s the first to flip your positions around so that you’re splaying your back against the massage table now. His toned body hovering over you, he doesn’t waste a second before swatting- yes, swatting aside your trembly thighs n’ swivelling his length inside once more.
Long, luxurious slides down the narrow channel of your cunt.
You’re taking his strokes with a moan, “Suguru—y-you’re not bothered by- ngh, that in the slightest?”
“Why would I be?” He answers. And with that said, his soft fingertips snake between your legs- pinching that swollen clit of yours. “In fact…”
Just the slightest roll of his thumb - and you’re already feeling pleasure wreak havoc on your body. Then he’s pressing, then he’s tugging- then he’s alternating between teasing and pulling and massaging your needy nub over and over in ways that drive you wild. Spelling out what you’re piecing together to be his name—
Geto was about to show you what a masseuse could truly do.
“-how about we step up that volume, Mrs. Geto Suguru?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Fan-favorite.
“I-I’m Choso Kamo, I’m 29, and…um, I honestly don’t know why I’m here.” The dark-haired man beneath the spotlight fidgets with his thumbs, lips barely moving as he attempts to continue the introduction that he’s surely fucked up by now. “My little brother submitted an application on my behalf because he thought that The Bachelorette would be p-perfect for me to find someone and…um…yeah…”
The producers look at each other. Eventually, one of them calls out—“So is she?”
Choso startles- almost as if he didn’t expect to be addressed. Almost as if he didn’t expect himself to be perceived at all. “Well…”
And his eyes drift towards the small screen behind the camera - one that had been playing B-roll footage of you so that the contestants could get more familiar prior to the actual meetings. Oh. It’s strange how as soon as his gaze latches onto you, his eyes can’t seem to find any other purpose but to linger.
Choso’s shoulders raise up to his ears- as if to cover the faint blush that was creeping onto them. “Yeah…” He whispers, “Yeah, she’s just beautiful.”
And it’s all quiet on-set for a second—nothing sounding out but the mechanical hum of the lens as it zooms in on the flush he can’t deny. Choso jumps back a bit as he realizes just what they’d been focusing on, and he’s flickering his eyes uncertainly towards the cameraman behind it- “Are those things always going to be on?”
The other man nods, deadpan.
“Oh.” Choso gulps, “W-well I made sure my little brothers won’t be watching this season- but for the erm…Tiktaks? For the Tiktak edits they’re sure to get, could you make sure you get my good side, please?”
A producer asks, “And just for your brothers- if you could say something to them now, what would you say?”
And he gets a slightly determined smile upon his pretty, pretty face. “Your big brother’s going to win.”
.
.
.
“So…bachelors, as you may know, this week’s Rose Ceremony is going to be like no other- because tonight we’re introducing the infamous golden rose—” A hush falls over the set. The host turns and blinds you and the lined-up contestants with his smile - one of those contestants being your future husband, perhaps.
You’re nodding back at him with a confidence you hoped your expression falsified.
And he turns back to the camera, “Tonight, whoever you choose to hand the golden rose to-” An impression rose just like the others before it, only this time it’d been sprayed gold and held a weight far heavier than just the paint. “-is who you’re going to be going on a three-day romantic getaway, with a honeymoon suite to boot—! No cameras.”
Twisting the rose nervously in your hands, your mind still whirled with names. So many handsome men. So many eligible bachelors- fuck, how were you ever going to choose?
“But…there’s a catch.”
12 contestants - and you - snap their heads over to the slyly beaming host.
He claps his hands in satisfaction, “You won’t be the one choosing your getaway partner.” Your jaw drops- and the host continues into the greedy lens—“It’ll be all of the world that’s been voting, day in and day out, throughout this week to pair up just who they want to see more of. Just who they think will be the perfect match for you…”
“Oh goodness.” You feel something - excitement, anticipation, fear - shoot through your blood vessels.
And looking straight at you, the host pulls out a glossy envelope from his suit jacket. You’re eyeing it as though it was a ticking bomb - and he merely waffles at the camera some more. “And our viewers have chosen: your romantic companion, your getaway partner, the man you’ll be sharing a bed with is—” The words hang in the air for a few more seconds, perhaps minutes, perhaps what feels like hours. “Choso Kamo.”
.
.
.
“Shit…” Choso’s jaw drops, pupils turned into the cutest lil’ hearts and peering right up at you—as you lower yourself down onto him.
His sensitive, twitching shaft disappears between your pussylips, and one hand of his immediately darts upwards to clasp at the side of your waist. Even just touching you like this…fuck, it sends bursts of electricity shooting from the tips of his fingers and up to his frazzled brain- then right back down again to his rock-hard cock.
He doesn’t think he’s been harder in his entire life.
Choso’s letting out a rugged moan as he fits inside your dripping wet cunt with a sluuuuurp! Pretty brown eyes rolling to the back of his skull- he’s shocked once he flutters them open to find that you’ve leaned yourself closer to him.
“O-oh, god…” Words barely a whisper.
One of your hands softly cupping the side of his face, “Something wrong, baby? Would you like to stop?”
“No.” The answer explodes out of him faster than he can control, and before you can register it - before he himself can register it - Choso’s quickly pressing both hands deeper against your hips to keep you from leaving. Even though there didn’t seem to be any immediate urgency of that- he doesn’t let up for a single second.
Digging his nails into your flesh- he’ll apologize for that later. Planting his feet on the soft mattress.
He slams you down to pin that hot, wet cunt of yours against his pelvis - until your clit caresses his happy trail—such a primal scratch down where you were most sensitive. And his body moves before his damn mind as Choso’s swabbin’ his cock inwards-
Not with any specific rhyme nor reason in mind.
Nothing but the primal urge to fill you up - to chase that heavenly squeeze of your walls. They’re spreadin’ apart juuuuust wide enough to gulp down his inches, and then when he’s reeling his hips back you’re clamping down until the man’s held hostage- gladly.
Shit- his lower lip trembles at the feeling. This was like nothing he’s ever felt before- and he hasn’t—
“You’re a virgin, Choso?” Your sweet, sweet hum breaks through the haze of his lust- just about the only thing he hears past the papping! of his hips arching up into yours.
And the man below you blinks up in confusion for a few seconds- long lashes dotted with tears. Before the smile upon your face makes him realize that his muddled brain - all your pussy’s fault - might have just said those last thoughts out loud…
You’re coming to the same realization he is. And you’re cooing down at him- pushing aside the sweat-dampened curls of his bangs. “Awww, pussydrunk already, baby?”
“M-mhm…” He’s nodding languidly.
“Tha’s alright.” You tut, “You’re doing so well for your first time- oh.”
Almost as if jinxing it - though that really wasn’t your fault, he was barely holding himself together as is - he throws his head back n’ lets his aching cockhead dribble out a few wads of…cum. Just from that. Just a few ivory beads of sap that glue to the veeeeery back of your pussy, making Choso lose his mind every time he’s gliding down your cervix and feeling his mess splosh ‘round inside you.
A singular line of cum leaks out of you, and Choso shivers as he catches it. “S-sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to-”
“Nothing to apologize about.” You’re cutting him off with a smile, meeting his thrusts by grinding your cunt down to meet his cock. “You’re still doing so well, baby…fuck, look how much you’re cumming.” And with that said- Choso thinks he sees the pearly gates themselves open up once you’re spreadin’ aside your thighs—just the slightest bit.
But Choso Kamo takes one look between your naked, shivering legs and moans.
Your pussy was just drenched in his cum - absolutely drenched. He hadn’t even recognized that he’d been cumming so much until he’s taking a peek, and he’s watching a few velvety ribbons of seed run down either side of your legs - creating a sheen that smears n’ spreads the more you’re meeting his cadence with your own. Skin against skin.
He’s letting out a ruined whimper—and you’re pushing down on his chiselled chest with a snicker. “See that, baby? You’ve been- hah, holding back for so long.” Even the slightest sound of your voice is enough to make his overstimulated cock spark with pleasure- he’s sure he empties out a few more droplets of cum. “How long have you been wanting to fuck me?”
Choso startles- eyes darting up to meet your expression. Damn that smile of yours. “I-I don’t know what you’re…”
“Oh, c’mon—” Teasing him. Putting pressure on his toned body, you’re now fully letting him recline- it was just so fun how much in awe Choso was…especially when you’re taking control instead.
Almost as if he was being thrown further and further into dreamland with every sloppy drag of your cunt - swallowing him up from his round, blushin’ tip and aaaaall the way to his hilt. His heavy balls, tightening as though he wanted to cum again. “With the way you’re grabbing me? With the way you’re- hah, rutting up to me?” Shoving between his pecs once more—“Down, boy.”
He whimpers.
“How long have you been wanting to fuck me, Cho?” Your lips twitch with amusement- he looks torn between sobbing in pleasure and sobbing in embarrassment. “It’s alright…I won’t judge-”
“Always—” Choso finally echoes out with a sudden squeeze of your velvety pussylips.
Practically wrenching the answer out of him- he laughs out something hollow at the back of his throat. “I’ve a-always wanted to…ngh.” The pointed edge of his tip draaaaags down your cervix, and he’s shivering as he recognizes just where your womb was. If only he could…“Ever since I first met you, I-I’m ashamed to admit but I’ve always wanted to stuff myself between those gorgeous legs.”
You’re giggling scandalously at his admission.
But Choso wasn’t done just yet-
Soon enough, he’s using the firm hold upon your hips to increase n’ increase his pace. Grabbing you firmly and burrowing his cum-soaked tip deeply between your folds- “I’ve wanted to know what she’d feel like wrapped around my cock.” Almost on cue, he’s throbbing between your legs- even harder. “Wanted to know how she tasted-”
“Don’t tell me you’re…”
And without a second thought, one hand lifts off your body - for the briefest split-second - to swipe at your sopping slit. Catching a few droplets of your mess and bringing it up to his lips to suck.
He moans at the taste of you, “Wanted to know how she’d take me. Wanted to feel her get stuffed-” Choso grumbles, and you’re vying to catch up with his needy pace - utterly needy. “Wanted to fill her up so much that every other man afterwards w-would be able to feel me…”
And then he’s trailing off, a harsh blush flooding his pretty features.
“B-but that’s just stupid-”
“Why’s that stupid?” He looks up at you in shock- only to find that you’re already beaming. “How would you know if you don’t try? Heh.”
“I think m’gonna cum again.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - BOMBSHELL!
“These losers aren’t going to know what fuckin’ hit them.” Sukuna scoffs, crossing those beefy arms in front of him. Unlike the introductions for the other contestants, he had…his t-shirt off. For what reason, you might ask?
Well, you’d go unanswered.
Even the producers were unsure just what had compelled their latest bombshell to display his chiselled front. But that didn’t stop them from keeping the cameras rolling- already knowing that audiences were going to go wild for the pink-haired, foul-mouthed addition to your roster. “Name’s Ryomen Sukuna- remember that. Age doesn’t matter. Occupation’s professional MMA fighter.”
He gestures to those scarred ears of his, as most fighters don like medals.
Behind him, there’s cues for footage of his uproarious and successful MMA career - particularly one clip of him winning the title of UFC light heavyweight champion last year - to be added in post-production. And he cocks his head to the side with a chuckle, “Best know that I’ve never lost a match before- and I don’t plan to change that anytime soon. I bet those losers at the mansion- and my pretty lady are going to be damn excited to see me.”
There’s a cue card for him to talk about his hobbies.
“Haaah…” All that boring shit- he wonders who gets off to small-talk on a show like this. “Boxing. Lifting. Meditation. Cardio- many different types of it.”
One producer pipes up, “And why that part about remembering your name, Sukuna-san? Could you clarify that for the viewers?”
“Heh-” Sukuna leers something sinful, crimson eyes flickering over to the small screen of your own footage. It was some B-roll of your own introduction interview, muted for the moment yet he thinks he could almost hear your soft chuckle in his ears- playing on repeat over and fucking over. “Because my future wife’s gonna be moaning it soon enough.”
Someone drops a boom pole.
There’s a cut in filming called out. He knows they won’t be editing that out.
.
.
.
“H-haaaah, now that’s just unfair.”
Toes curling. Your back arching deeply into Sukuna’s sculptured front- it was almost Herculean how he flexed and tensed his abs to show off…particularly when it came to ramming his hips up into yours. Out of all of the contestants, Sukuna was the only one to put you in a full nelson.
“Heh- what’s unfair?” Sukuna’s deep trundle makes your body erupt in shivers- the smugness was practically seeping into every syllable. “Isn’t the bombshell supposed to mess up this pussy- whoops, I mean…season?”
“You’re messing up nothing but my peace that’s for sure…” You’re grumbling back at him - slightly nervous to meet his crimson eyes.
Though you’d have been foolish to think that the MMA fighter wouldn’t catch that- he’s grasping the edge of your chin with a single hand. Tugging your face behind to look at him. All of it in just a few seconds. And Sukuna raises one pink brow as he smirks, “Look me in the eyes when you’re saying something like that, brat.”
“Y-you’re messing up nothing but my peace—” You’re just barely managing to stammer out - Sukuna was savage with his thrusts. And they’re only seeming to grow even faster as you’re answering, as though he wanted to see you struggle n’ choke around his thick cock.
Around that pierced head of his.
The frigidness of his metallic Prince Albert runs down the sides of your walls - and he’s purposefully stopping right before where your g-spot was pulsing. “That’s not what this cunt’s telling me.”
And without any warning, he’s reaching one hand down and smacking! the swollen top of your pussylips.
“Isn’t that right, my pretty girlie?”
Not talking to you—he’s talking to your cunt now.
Dragging the fatness of his thumb - that greedy edge - vertically down your sopping slit. He collects the wetness that leaks out of you, “My wet girlie—yer a lot more honest than this one here, hm?”
You shiver as he slams his rugged palm down on your cunt once more.
How’d you even get here?
Right now, the contestants had been weaned and weeded out until only your very favorites had remained…and then there was Sukuna. It was just today that the bombshell MMA fighter had been introduced to the mansion, and for the short amount of time he’d gotten here- he’d already started seven fights, triggered an emergency meeting, and had enough time to whisk you away on a one-on-one date that had ultimately ended up like…this.
Your legs hooked behind your head. Your back arching against the mattress of your beach cabin—the waves rolled softly outside.
The only thing separating you from it were the semi-sheer curtains of the cabin, swaying softly in the balmy breeze. What a romantic date the producers had set up- for an utterly unromantic man.
Or so he was fucking you like it.
Thank goodness you’d left the cameras behind, though your glaring disappearance was nothing if not scandalous. There goes your reputation…you ponder. This might’ve been the fastest that you’ve gotten into bed with any one of them. And you know he’s bad news, you know you shouldn’t like him so much- you know that out of all those eligible bachelors, Sukuna was going to be the most dangerous for your heart (and between those legs of yours).
But you just couldn’t help yourself.
You’re leaning your head back against his firm collarbones- mewls falling from your lips at an incredible rate.
Sukuna’s veering his hips back and rub-rub-rubbing his flared tip around the area of your g-spot—but never directly upon it. Frustration makes your brows furrow, and you’re just about to bounce your hips down when-
“Ah ah—now what do you think you’re trying to do, woman?”
Just then you’re being pinned right back down with a sudden thwack! of his fingertips. Hard and fast. They’re lingering over your pussylips for just a few seconds, before reachin’ in-between and pinching your cute nub.
And as you’re shaking in his arms - “Did ya think that after so much back-talk you’d suddenly get to play nice?” Sukuna titters to himself, mean lips pressed up against your temple—it would’ve been a sweet gesture…but this was Sukuna you’re dealing with. “Ryomen Sukuna never plays nice.”
“P-please—” Had this been any other time, then you might’ve been embarrassed by just how much he managed to shatter you with his fast, hard-hitting strokes.
Your thighs are flapping lewdly open, and he’s teasin’ your clit even harder with his fingers. Though he still narrowly manages to avoid your damn g-spot—“Wh-what do I have to do to- ngh, get you to hit that spot?”
He acts confused, “What spot?”
“That spot-”
“Hah? I don’t know any spots-”
“H-here…” Rounding your hips down - in something that halfway-resembled a figure-eight. It’s the closest you’re getting to Sukuna grazing your g-spot: the lightest touch of his crowned, throbbing tip. Swollen enough to stretch apart your walls like none other. He’s barely slipping past that orifice with his vein-covered shaft, and it’s already enough to make you moan—
“And who said you deserve that, brat?”
Crossly, “Me- I said that.”
He laughs deeply in disbelief, “Hear that, pussy?” Slapping that cunt of yours once more, “The audacity- it doesn’t matter if I wasn’t the one ta say you deserve this. After all, who does this pussy really belong to?”
Starting to babble out some answer-
Before yet another spankin’ leaves your folds feeling raw - and your eardrums echoing with the dampened noise once more.
It’s all the answer that Sukuna needs.
He nods as though he’s just been handed the answers to the universe, “See- see—did ya hear what she said?” This time, he’s asking you. And you’re barely given the opportunity to answer between his roughened thrusts, “She said that she’s really mine. She’s always- hah, been mine.”
You’re shivering, “A-always…”
“And she wants you to beg for your orgasm.”
That being said, Sukuna reaches down and clasps your neck with his thick digits. Choking you- choking your moans, he’s wrenching such primal noises out of you through the combination of the pressure on your airway, and the pressure between your legs.
Shovelling his thiiiick cock over and over-
“C’mon, my spoiled brat—” Sukuna chuckles, “Beg-” Between thorough thwacks! of his rotund cockhead hitting your cervix. You always have said that Sukuna was so big it feels as though he had two cocks…“Beg, girl, beg—”
“P-please.”
“Tch, you can do better than that.”
The only thing you’re left to do - after so many battering rams of him bottoming out - is to meet his gaze with your teary one. Your bottom lip trembling with sobs, “Please, hit my g-spot.”
“What was that?” He leans in. Smile utterly mocking.
And though your stomach churns, you can do nothing but repeat, “P-please hit my g-spot…please let me cum.” At the very least, now he was letting you swerve your hips back into his - “Please make my- your…pussy feel good.”
And it’s that last sentence that deals the final blow.
“Damn right.”
Because in the next breath you take, Sukuna arcs his pelvis deeply and thuds his drippin’ wet cockhead against your g-spot. Just the slightest push. Just the smallest pressure. And yet, it’s still enough for you to throw your head back and cum—
“Fuh-fuck…” It takes you by surprise - sure, you’d been feeling a few zaps n’ whips of something at the pit of your stomach, but you didn’t expect for Sukuna to actually make you cum so easily. It almost leaves you shy.
For he levers his thick cock backwards, balls twitching eagerly once he pushes his entire length inside. Inside and inside. Fucking you through every single wave - Sukuna’s cold piercing targets your g-spot exactly at the moments where you felt the dopamine in your body surge, and the stark contrast in temperature is only making you even dizzier.
Even needier to feel him.
And he certainly wasn’t leaving you wanting for long- soon enough, Sukuna’s poundin’ away at your sweetest spots so hard that it stings both your slamming skin. His was red and swelling with the print of your hips on his hips.
Yours were barely able to keep up-
Just as you feel the hot flashes of your high bate, Sukuna’s pulling you close and whispering—“Knew that hadn’t changed…” And he’s gesturing to the way you’d - in the heat of your moment - intertwined your fingers with his. Without you even realizing. “Heh, those losers are going to be so pissed when they find out.”
When they find out what you and the producers already know…That Ryomen Sukuna was your ex-boyfriend.
♡ INO TAKUMA - Group date.
“My name is Ino Takuma, I’m 23.” Ino’s pushing back his dark-colored beanie, exposing tufts of cute caramel hair- “And I’m a professional skater.”
“Professional skater?” A producer urges him, “Tell the audience more.”
“W-well, I’ve been skating for a while now, and…” The sheer amount of focus being put on him makes him blush, fingers fighting the urge to pull down his beanie - entirely over his face - once more. Goddammit—Ino watches every season of this show, he can’t deny - trash television was his thing. Saturday nights with a facemask on, phone turned off, volume turned up. So when one drunken night out with his friends meant that he ended up applying for it…he didn’t think he’d actually get in.
It’d been like navigating through thick fog- so many cameras, and boom poles, and acting suave (somewhat) for his introduction footage. It almost made him dizzy. “You might have seen me ‘round in a few competitions…some competitions…the Olympics…”
“The Olympics-”
“Yeah.” He fiddles with the hemline of his beanie awkwardly.
“And did you win a medal, Ino-kun?”
Ino smiles because he knows that it’d been plastered across every headline and sports magazine - there’s no need for him to clarify. Though he does it for the clicks anyways, “I did. First place.”
Excited whispers spread around the studio.
The skater shuffles once more beneath those harsh white lights- this time more out of embarrassment than anything. The cameras roll eagerly, following every movement, and a producer probes at his silence—“And does this mean you’ll be aiming for first place to win her heart, too?”
He chuckles nervously, “I won’t be aiming for it.” Scratching behind his neck, he cocks his head up and catches sight of the B-roll footage they were playing of you on one screen. “I’ll be first.”
.
.
.
Okay, so maybe his introduction was a little overconfident…but wasn’t everyone’s?
Ino Takuma has watched many a dating shows in his twenty-something years, alright; which means he’s gotten used to the pompous one-liners, the nonchalance that everyone attempts to show, the self-assurance—he’s just never wondered what happens when that self-assurance simply…doesn’t produce results.
Which- alright, alright…that’s not to say that he hasn’t produced any results.
As more and more of the contestants dwindled away, Ino still found himself (somehow mercifully) still on the show. And he’s had a handful of good conversations with you, along with a few bonding moments.
It’s just- how come that long-haired masseuse managed to get you into his arms - and on his cock…he’s ashamed to admit he actually saw when he’d walked in on the two of you - all on this show?! Ino didn’t even know that sort of thing was allowed here…
And he feels foolish admitting it but he’s grown to really, really care about you. So thinking about you with some other guy like that pink-haired bombshell or the CEO or whatever—it was starting to make him tick.
Which is why he’s jumping to drag you away from the others at the next group date.
This time, the producers had arranged an indoor skating park date, perhaps to make up for the fact that he hasn’t gotten a one-on-one date yet.
And as you’re a little wobbly on that new board, Ino’s using his expertise to teach you, to hold your hand, to gently direct you around the park—and eventually let you direct him out of sight of the cameras.
Soon enough, you’re pushing him against the wall of the restroom on-site - vast and clean, and spacious enough for you to push him into one of the stalls. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been eyeing me.” Leaning up on your tip-toes to whisper in his ear, “We’ve gotta be quick, though.”
He thinks those might just be the best words he’s ever heard.
You’re turning around and placing both palms on one plastic wall of the stall. Panties in your pocket. Smirk something delicious.
And it takes just a few sloppy strokes between those pretty cunt lips of yours for Ino to become utterly gone—
He’s pussydrunk already.
Mahogany eyes criss-crossing. Weakening in the knees.
The skater holds onto either side of your hips as though to guide the way you’re fuckin’ back into him- but really he’s gripping onto you for dear life. To stop himself from collapsing onto his knees on this damn washroom floor. To stop himself from making a complete and utter fool of himself - the curve of your hips is the lifeline he can’t let go of.
And yet another wretched moan leaves this throat when you’re veering your hips down to his base and clenching-
“Taku, baby…” Your giggle comes out unfiltered, harmonizing with the sinful sound he’s just let out. “You’ve got to be quiet, otherwise they’re going to find us- cameras and all.”
He lets out a slight whimper at the thought, “I w-wouldn’t want you to be exposed because of me like that.”
“Mhm—” Just as soon as Ino’s agreeing to be quiet- you’re gently suctioning your cunt down until his hilt - coating your gooey slick along all his inches - and he’s letting out a euphoric noise. Even louder than before. And you’re just looking over your shoulder with a grin, “Now, what did I say about being quiet, Taku?”
Sounding as though he was on the verge of tears, “I-I can’t help myself, sweetness.” Tone husky. Octaves higher. His poor hips stutter out a singular thrust, and even that seems too much for the skater boy to handle- he reaches up to tug down his beanie. “It just feels so good…maybe m’just not deserving of your cunt- ngh.”
“Awww, don’t say that, baby.”
With a resounding squelch! you’re letting Ino pull out - and instead of telling him to tuck himself back into his pants, as he might’ve expected, you’re gesturing for him to seat himself down on the closed, clean toilet.
Straddling his slender hips and kissin’ his blushing tip to your entrance.
It doesn’t take long for you to siiiiiink yourself down onto him—he might not have been the thickest, but Ino was a length that you swear you could feel at your very throat. And he was actually the perfect girthiness to stretch apart your walls enough that tears prick behind your eyelids- but still smooth n’ slim enough for you to immediately start up an urgent pace. Quick.
Up and down. Up and down.
Ino’s shaft had a particularly prominent vein going down his middle that made you shiver - it was in the perfect position to massage your puckered, pulsing g-spot. You could feel the squiggly line of it practically emblazon against your wet walls.
Your hamstrings keening at the stretch - and Ino was, too.
At least…until you’re tugging out the damp panties you’d kept in your pocket this entire time. And the next moment that Ino’s letting his maw ajar with a sudden moan- you’re quickly stuffin’ his mouth full with the lacy fabric.
Smirking, “See? Isn’t that a lot better, Taku?”
First, Ino’s eyes go wide—then he’s blushing as he registers just what you’d put in his mouth. Then he’s letting those dilated pupils roll aaaaall the way to the back of his head at the feeling of your cunt lavishing out looooong, luxurious thrusts. Squeezed tight around his cock.
He throbs even harder inside of you, “Mmmpf- ngh—sh-sho…can’t even-” Muffled.
“Shhh, you don’t have to say a thing.” You’re reassuring him, pushing back his beanie- there. Those chocolate-brown eyes of his were so pretty. You’re witnessing him tear up - and you weren’t sure whether that was because of the sudden blockage in his airway, or because it just felt so good—you had a sneaking suspicion that it was the latter. “Just be good f’me and fuck up to me, okay?”
“M-mhm.” He’s nodding obediently.
Because it might’ve been him teaching you how to skate out there- but in here…he was all yours.
He was at your beck and call. At the mercy of your bounces-
You’re telling him to go easier on your poor cervix - and though it takes every single shred of will within him to do so - he’s listening to you without fuss. You’re telling him to speed up, and he’s gladly bashin’ away his eager cock inside of you until the skin of his pelvis feels raw…
You’re telling him that someone might be inside the bathroom, too, and he’s too gone on your pussy to even compute—
“Taku.” Stern tone. Serious eyes- despite the fact that your pussy wasn’t letting up for a single second. You’re grabbing directly by the throat - something his cock twitches at - and bringing him up to face you. “Someone’s in here, okay?”
He feels goosebumps go down his spine, “Mmmps- schtawp?”
You giggle, “No…no, we don’t need to stop.” And perhaps in the next few seconds you’d suggest that you two should slow down, instead. Perhaps you’d suggest cockwarming until whoever was inside (and Ino could hear the other person’s voice as they splashed water on their face) left.
But instead you’re merely leaning in- grasping one of his strong arms and guiding it beneath you. You’re directing Ino to cup his fattened base, “This way it’ll be quieter.” Whispering to him, “In fact—how about we see just how quiet you can get, huh?”
And his maw unhinges - drool dripping down each side - and those gorgeous eyes of his nearly bulge out of their skull.
“Of course this bombshell’s gonna blow this whole season up-” Gojo didn’t need to try to make everyone opposite the camera faun - it was practically what he was made for.
One of the tallest in the show. One of the flashiest.
One of the most famous - there wasn’t a soul who’d walked past the billboards in Tokyo that hadn’t already seen Gojo Satoru’s dazzling smile, or peaked traitorously at a blown-up picture of his abs on numerous billboards.
Brands were practically clawing for him—just as much as the ladies and gents were. But that’s exactly why he was here - wouldn’t it be fun to be the chaser for once? Besides, his agent had told him that if he behaved himself, then he might just end up boosting his career to heights never seen before. This season had been a hit so far- but of course, what was a hit without Gojo Satoru?
Pretending to flip his hair over one shoulder, Gojo’s posing with all the best angles for the lens. “I mean- no offense, but have you seen me?”
And on anyone, such confidence would have been seen as a turn-off, a red flag, perhaps even compensation for something lacking. No one should be this confident.
Except Gojo Satoru, of course.
And he smiles like he knows it- rows of pearly white teeth flashin’ in the direction of the camera. “Oh, I guess I really should introduce myself, huh?” He sighs, “I’m Toru, I’m 28. And I’m the man of your dreams~!”
A producer whispers something to him.
“I’m also a model.” Gojo adds, “High-fashion. Editorial. Digimon ads- you name it. I don’t consider myself a romantic, nor someone that really needs love but…” His eyes drift to the B-roll footage they were playing of you on some small screen in the back, getting the contestants more familiar before they actually joined you in the mansion. “-who knows? Maybe things can change.”
Dimples pop out when he smiles.
No one should be this handsome.
He winks.
Except Gojo Satoru, of course.
.
.
.
Gojo Satoru was sent to the mansion to wreak havoc.
And wreak havoc, he did.
In the four hours and forty-five minutes that he’d been here, he’d interrupted your rose ceremony and thrown out the rose that you’d been about to give poor Usami—and taken it for himself. Not a shred of apology, he’d tucked it straight into his button-up pocket and winked at you.
Leaving the other man to whirl around at the producers that simply shrugged. Who was to say what Gojo Satoru did?
And you can’t deny it…that charm of his was irresistible.
You were sure that the viewers were loving this- in even less time, he’d picked a fight with Sukuna because of the long-standing rivalry between the two - something the producers had likely known just to stir the pot even more. According to what the skater boy had whispered in your ear, it was because the two had been battling it out for the title of TC Candler’s #1 Most Handsome Man for the last few years now.
One year it’d be Sukuna. Next it’d be Gojo.
The next they’d get absolutely washed by Zayn Malik and would have to lick their wounds and battle it out over second place.
It all left you a little dizzy, if you’re being honest.
And sure enough- after a hectic few hours of introduction between the new bombshell and the rest of the contestants - during which you’d seen more fists flying than small talk - Gojo finally managed to pull you away for a chit-chat.
He stuck his tongue out at the other men as he dragged you by hand, pulling you into the cosy gazebo outside—the one with the creeping vines up its pillars, and shutters for if you wanted privacy. Speaking of, it gave you way…way too much privacy…
And soon enough he’s pulling you into his arms, you’re crashing your lips into his in a searing kiss.
Having kicked the camera men outside, they could only see just the faintest shadows of the two of you inside - before Gojo’s dragging you down to the fucking floor like an animal—helping you tear through your panties n’ sticking his fat cock inside.
The crown of his reddened tip was burning hot, streaming out precum that sticks to your inner thighs in heavenly layers- he’s sucking in a breath as he fits his first inch inside. “Oh.” Maw dropping breathlessly - you think that perhaps for the first time in his twenty-eight years, Gojo Satoru shuts himself up. Low. “Oh.”
Clammy head falling to the crook of your neck. White bangs sticking against the side of your throat.
He lets out a sensual few groans that seem to almost cling onto your skin - just like how his muscular body was right now. Long limbs nearly collapsing on top of you as Gojo’s stutterin’ his gleaming shaft inside a few more inches—“Oh- ohhhh, fuck. Do you h-hear that?” Voice cracking towards the end of that sentence.
“Hear what?” Your brows furrow.
And Gojo’s snowy brows knit even deeper - more confused than you by what you seemingly couldn’t hear—how could you not hear it? “You- you seriously don’t…?” And those toned hips of his reel a few inches backwards, draggin’ the zig-zagging lines of his veins along your tightened channel- ever-so-slightly before thundering back in. “Hear it- now?” He asks, strangely out-of-breath. The pupils in his ice-blue eyes blown wide. The breaths emanating deeply from his chest.
Though his sheer desperation only leaves you more confused, “I…”
“You s-still don’t hear it—?”
As if he’s trying to prove his point, he’s grabbing ahold of one side of your hips- the manicured nails upon his left hand digging into your clammy flesh. Thrusts growing more emboldened. Gojo’s connecting his body with yours until he doesn’t know where his starts and yours ends—gripping onto every inch of you like adhesive coats your body.
His eyes lazily fail at keeping shut every time you’re clampin’ your tight pussy around him. A thin trickle of perspiration lines the side of his face, and once he’s finally able to veer his gaze to meet yours- you’re swearing that it’s as though his pupils have suddenly turned into hearts.
Something dazed and drunken in his gaze, “Can you…”
Barely able to finish his thought let alone his sentence.
“The only thing m’hearing right now is that you’re- fuck-” Gasping between the roughening and roughening rams of his hips—he pistons his swollen cock inside until your walls are bulging at the size of him. Swerving n’ swerving it into every single sweet spot inside you.
Almost as though Gojo didn’t even need to try - he’s discovering your g-spot after only a few more determined strokes. And just the sheer force of him pinpointing that cute lil’ bundle of nerves - whacking it - makes your thighs squeeeeeze around his waist. It makes your pussylips get crushed together under the sheer pressure of movement, letting out an audible squelch!
“That.”
Blinking through your tears, “What?”
“That-”
Gojo’s so excited that he’s running out of breath - almost as if he’d just run an entire marathon, and would run at least five more just to experience this again.
His red-hot tip smears aside your walls, scouring your insides like a hidden maze. You feel the exact moment that he’s bottoming out his long, entire length at the very back of your cunt—“There…” A thin ribbon of drool glides down the side of Gojo’s mouth, tone almost in tears.
He flinches-
The raw softness of your womb- it was almost too much. Gojo reaches his right hand down to spreeead open your pretty pussylips, opening you up like lotus petals for him, then rolling his thumb down on your neglected clit.
You’re moaning at the sparks of carnal pleasure wracking through you - and Gojo himself grins at the music: your gorgeous noises, the sound of the night, the way your cunt’s lettin’ out the most lecherous squelches as he eases his cock in and out.
“There- right then.” Gojo finally - finally - husks out after one particularly loud slurp! Looking up at him, only to feel a jolt go through you at something primal shifting beneath his gaze. “Can you hear her say my name?”
“Her…?” Dazedly asking, “Do you mean me—?”
“No.” Gojo stubbornly answers, “I mean her-”
And before you know it, he’s honing out a few more strikes at your poor g-spot. Until you were sure it’s bruised enough with the round circumference of his length - hard and fast.
It’s enough to make you bellow out a few more hoarse noises—before Gojo himself is letting go of your waist to clasp his slender fingers around your neck. The cold sensation of them sending thrills down your spine, he’s teasingly tightening his hold as he bores deep into your eyes with his nearly-glowing ones.
“Shush, sweetheart.” Gojo admonishes softly, “Let me show you- hear her?” And it’s only after a few seconds you’re realizing that…her really meant your sopping wet pussy. Namely the lewd noises that you’re creating from it- just that wet. “Hear the way she’s whimpering? And mewling? And yowling?”
You yourself were struggling to get a single word out when he’s holding onto you like that. “Y-yes—”
“Well all that pretty noise is her…” He trails off, listening to a few more syllables of your pussy. “-screaming my name.”
Jaw dropping. “Your…”
“Mhm.”
Thin fingertips leaving marks.
He continues, “She’s been beggin’ for me to fuck her ever since- hah, ever since I got here.” And without a single warning, he’s toying with your clit and ultimately pinching it. “I know she’s been thinking about me—hah, shirtless. I know she’s been thinking about being under me, over me-” An almost wolfish expression taking over his face, “All on my face until I can’t breathe-”
“S-Satoru—!”
“Oh yeah, that’s exactly how your pussy’s saying it.”
You’re smacking Gojo’s bicep for that, and he merely chuckles.
“I’m just saying~” The motions of his thumb then start taking a more…interesting turn. And you have to tilt your head down to get a proper look at what he was doing - Gojo’s moving so fast that his digits were nearly nothing but frenzied, feverish blur between your legs. “That’s exactly…”
He himself couldn’t keep up.
Just too enraptured by the swervin’ and swoopin’ movements—the way his fingers had to quirk just right when he’s spelling out a repeated S-A-T-O-R-U.
S-A-T-O-R-U.
S-A-T-O-R-U.
S-A-T-O-R-U.
Both in Japanese and English.
Looking up at you through his curtained white bangs, “What’s that spell—?”
“Satoru—” It would’ve tumbled out of your mouth regardless of whether he asked or not, and you’re sure he knows.
“Exactly.” He responds.
You look on in gaped speechlessness as he flashes you that award-winning grin. The last thing you’re seeing before your high floods you in bursts- nothing like the torrential waves of dopamine, or the hills or relaxation that’d pass by you during your other highs.
This one was taking you over.
This one was zapping every atom of your being and leaving it charged.
“Sh-shit, Toru—” Hiccuping, your nails drag red, red lines down the plane of his shoulders. They’re standing out stark, and you’re hit with the strange feeling that he’d be the type to show them off during his next photoshoot - “It feels so good, Toru-”
“Heh, you’re welcome.”
Babbling out stupidly- the way he elongated every single peak left your mind heated. “Y-you could at least pretend to have some humility.”
“Humility? Don’t know her.” He winks, “You’re my only gal, sweetheart.”
Grumbling, “I better be…”
“Now why’d you hafta go and say something so cute…” You’re still seeing white from the pure shockwaves of your high- “Because that’s only gonna make me cum.” When Gojo himself throws his head back and cums inside. Loooooong and deep slashes at the back of your cunt, he draws numerous lines of white that dribble all the way down your channel then.
Ending up frothed between your shiverin’ legs.
The glistening layers of it smear n’ make your entangled bodies slip.
Jostling you even further, making you feel the splashin’ of his clingy sap inside you. More and more. More and more and more—no matter how many wads Gojo’s fucking inside- he just can’t seem to get enough of you—
“Because no one else can fuck you like Gojo Satoru can.”
Just the seven previous men and this bombshell left in the mansion.
Who would you even pick at this rate?
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - One-on-one.
“My name is Higuruma Hiromi, I’m 33.” Deep voice. Deeper eyes. There was a certain handsomeness to Higuruma that made it hard to look away - perhaps it was the dark features - that nose, the intelligent twinkle behind his eyes.
Perhaps it was the fact that he was dressed to the nines in his smart, black suit.
Or perhaps it was that air of confidence around him - nothing of the outward flashiness that most of the other contestants boasted. Something quieter. Something that had the edges of his pouty lips quirking, as though he already knows he’s won this season…he just won’t admit it yet.
For the viewers’ experience, of course.
He cocks his head slightly to the side and sighs, “I’m an attorney at my own law firm. I enjoy long baths and even longer debates, I’m looking for someone that can indulge me in both of these things.”
“And why are you here, Higuruma-san?”
“Because some interns of mine thought that it’d be funny to sign me up.” He chuckles softly to himself, “They’re mad- of course, perhaps I’m more mad to actually be here.”
“In the long run, Higuruma-san?”
“Ah…” He takes the time to think, eyes drifting over to the screen replaying footage of you - he’s already heard some of the other men gossiping amongst themselves in the waiting room about just how beautiful you are. And he hates to admit it when someone’s right, but he can’t deny it—they were fucking right. “I guess I’m looking for my wife.”
His eyes never miss yours on the screen.
The producer probes once more, camera angles shifting to accommodate for his intense staring match. “And do you think that you’ll find that?”
“I think I already might have.”
.
.
.
The audience had been curious about the hotshot lawyer from Tokyo.
“H-Hiromi, I’m ngh- cumming again…”
And so had you.
It’s been a string of more one-on-one dates that the producers had arranged prior to the finale where you had to choose…your future husband. Fuck- at this point you were wondering whether you couldn’t just have them all. And though the dark-haired lawyer had made it this far, he hadn’t featured in too many of the episodes—that is, until a recent edit of his B-roll footage had gone absolutely viral online - quite to the distaste of one particular white-haired model.
Clips of him laid back in a bathtub - suit still on. Clips of him slamming his gavel down.
And so, of course, they’d rushed to bring the two of you together to raise viewership—lo and behold you found yourself sneaking off to the couples’ suite after a romantic spa date. Escaping all the cameras - shutting those hungry lenses behind the door - it didn’t take long for the man to corner you against the rose petal-covered bed and bend you into the meanest mating press that you’ve ever even heard of.
Though Higuruma might’ve seemed all cool and composed on the outside- he was drilling his rock-hard cock into you like a fucking madman.
Thick and throbbing. Thrust after thrust after thrust-
“Fuck—” He snarls something primal from the back of his throat, prominent Adam’s apple bobbing. Hoarse, sensual grunts leave him after every battering ram.
His skin was still damp from all the hours prior- when you’d been riding Higuruma’s face silly.
And even now, you could see the slight sheen of slick clinging onto his handsome features. Without thinking twice, you’re reaching up and swipin’ away some of the remnant excess, which immediately makes him snap his head down with a low trundle. “Fuck, don’t act so sweet, sugar.”
You huff, “M’not acting-”
Before you’re immediately getting cut off by the slam! of his round, reddened tip on your cervix. Barely reeling from the sheer pressure of it- before Higuruma reaches somewhere above your head - at the clothes that you’d discarded hours prior at the start of the night - and produces his favorite black tie.
You’re blinking up at him in slight confusion.
To which he doesn’t say much - he doesn’t say anything at all, really. Without a single word, Higuruma loops the soft silk of the tie around your wrists, and he’s tightening it into a knot that your muddled mind barely computes—tying you up.
It’s too late once you’re realizing- no matter how much you tug, you’re left unable to move. At your sultry mercy before the man - exactly how you wanted to be.
“S’not handcuffs, but it’ll have to do.” He mutters to himself.
“And why would you want me in handcuffs?”
“Because act sweet t’me one more time and you’ll be walking out of this suite pregnant, angel.” And you can’t believe it—the ever-eloquent Higuruma Hiromi was slurrin’ and babbling because of your cunt. “Why else?”
“O-oh…”
You snark back, “And what if I want that?”
“Well, you don’t deserve that.” He counters, “You’re a guilty girl.”
Squirming- he runs a long finger of his down the crevice of your pussylips. Just the very tip of it teasin’ in-between, uuuup and down, uuuup and down until you’re restless. And you can’t even do anything because of the ruthless restraints that he’d tied around your wrists.
“G-guilty for…?”
Higuruma doesn’t answer instantly.
He’s curling his dominant hand around the ribbons of fabric that were decorating your hands.
Cold fingers grazing your own- you’re just about wondering what Higuruma was about to do right then and there. But just then, he’s tightening his hold and draaaagging your body down.
As though you weighed nothing.
Higuruma’s hidden biceps bulge ever-so-slightly as he’s manhandling you down, down, down—onto his thickened cock. The silken bedsheets bunch up around your waist, and the bedsprings creak at the way you’re being thrown about like a ragdoll-
This rough angle makes his globular tip maze even deeper inside of you- burrowing a circular bruise at the very bottom of your pussy. And you’re gasping—you’d be clawing at Higuruma’s handsome back had it not been for this damn tie.
Almost as though sensing your desperation, the man looming before you huffs out in laughter. It fans your face in a scorching breeze - you think you can feel the smoke and need in his breath. The addiction to white-knuckling your cuffs and hauling you down after every thrust pushes you up, up, upwards- “Count one: seduction”
“S-seduction?” Your eyes damn-near bulge out of your skull.
“Count two: temptation of a working attorney.” He lists off. The slightest smile lifts up the edges of his lips, “Count three: temptation of a working judge.”
“You’re the-”
He sighs as though this was just another day in the court for him - though if this was the type of court he led, you’d be showing up for jury duty everyday. “Count four: perjury.”
“Perjury?” You gape, “When have I ever lied to the court?”
Higuruma cocks his head, “And when you told me you weren’t acting sweet?” That rounded tip of his lingers where your g-spot was, “I know how filthy you are, angel, no need to put on an act…”
“I—fuck, please…”
“Count five: greed.” Higuruma finally ends off, and you’re probing into his darkened eyes for clarification. “You seriously think you deserve to be fucked pregnant by me, sugar?”
“Y-yes…” You’re barely able to mumble out.
And he merely scoffs out a
And he scoffs out a slightly mean bout of laughter, as if he’d expected for you to say that. Oh, how he’d expected you to say that. But instead of responding to that directly, Higuruma’s openin’ up your sopping wet pussylips.
The hand between your legs bears your stuffed entrance for him to examine. Those intelligent eyes of his twinkle as he’s taking in the plushness of your swollen folds, the way your hole leaked even when stuffed to the brim with his fat cock - struggling to take him, yet still yearning for more. And most of all…he’s admiring the way your cute clit twitches- “Count one…” Higuruma announces with no warning—and even less of a warning is given before he’s planting a solid spank on your clit. “Guilty.” Even harder than he might’ve done with that gavel of his.
You’re surging up on the bed due to the sheer shockwaves coursing through you. “Fuck- fuck, you’re just-”
“Count two—”
“Shit-”
Barely giving you the time to compute before his hand comes slammin’ down once more. “Guilty.”
Tears stream down your cheeks, “Hiromi, I’m going to cum-”
“Count three-” And it wasn’t like he couldn’t hear you - he just refused to respond until his judicial duties were completed. Higuruma was a man of the law, after all. And surely it was that discipline that led him to spank your cunt two more times, “Guilty. Count four- guilty.”
Your thighs were shaking with your impeding high, “I-I’m seriously going to-”
“Count five-” The fifth, final punishment. “-guilty.”
And you’re crashing against the waves of your high - it feels as if you’re floating on air. On clouds. On the white-hot pleasure that Higuruma was fucking into you.
His pace doesn’t falter for a single second. The plush edge of his shaft probin’ into you in and in and in—Higuruma knows exactly which nerve-filled spots you wanted him to push. Exactly where they were. And he doesn’t do so immediately…but once he’s glissading his lengthy cock inside your cunt, he sure does press his pointed tip hard into wherever he can reach.
Not quite agonizingly teasing, but not quite giving your guilty self what you wanted.
Somewhere along the way, you’re feeling his gooey white sap fill you up as well. He lets out a choked-up groan as he floods the lining of your cervix- “Guilty…haaaaah, on all counts.” The sheer volume of him forms a little puddle there, “And I sentence you to…”
“Y-yes…?”
“Hmmm—” He pretends to think, though the lewd humor in his tone told you that Higuruma already knew. The full stop at the end of his duties- he thwacks! his palm down upon your cunt once more, “How about five more rounds? One for each count- hah.”
You’re letting your head fall to the side, where the curtains of the suite were just barely cracked to reveal pinkish-yellow lighting filtering inside. It was morning.
You weren’t making it out alive for the rest of the season.
So, viewers, who's getting the last rose as your husband?
TOJI
NANAMI
GETO
CHOSO
SUKUNA
INO
GOJO
HIGURUMA
Voting ended onApr 7
A/N. MAYHAPS have a special treat for whoever wins. Can you tell my best friend made me watch Single's Inferno with her-
megumi’s demon dogs have always loved you, even when they're tired after missions. oftentimes, they’ll run up to you with wagging tails, whining, and panting happily.
one night, you’re in the common room, sitting on the couch as you watch television, hair and skin still damp from the shower you took after a long mission. you begin to hear soft footsteps, though it sounds more like the demon dogs than people.
the dogs walk up and sit in front of you, tails thumping loudly against the ground.
“oh, hi!” you exclaim, scratching under their chins. the black dog leans into your palm, and the white one’s tail thumps faster against the ground. the white one almost becomes restless, paws tapping against the wood.
the white demon dog begins licking your hand, pausing in between to spin around excitedly. the black dog continues to receive chin scratches from you, pleased at your touch.
a voice speaks out, “hey, you two,” the dogs turn to look at megumi, “stop slobbering all over her,” he’s mostly referring to the white demon dog.
the white demon dog whines and lies its head on the couch, flushed against your thigh. its ears go down, though its tail doesn’t stop wagging. you pet the dog more, and it gently paws at your leg, wanting more pets.
the black demon dog woofs in complaint, softly growling at megumi, though with no aggression.
“it’s okay, megs,” you smile up at him.
he huffs, cheeks turning pinker. he finds it embarrassing how much his demon dogs love you, mirroring how he feels about you. unlike him, his demon dogs have no shame in showing their love and affection towards you.
“megumi, are you sure that keeping them out for this long isn’t making you tired?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed together.
he shakes his head no and sits next to you, pretending to watch whatever movie you were previously watching before the demon dogs came up to you.
“yeah, you’re good pups, aren’t you?” you mumble, and the demon dogs whine happily, you continue, “very well trained.”
you know well that they’re certainly not puppies, instead far from it. megumi’s warm next to you, leg bouncing anxiously as he hides his face, a bit afraid that you’ll see his flushed face.
footsteps walk into the common room, and someone stands behind the couch, hands resting on the back of it. gojo smirks knowingly, staring at how megumi’s demon dogs behave with you. megumi glares up at him, silently daring him to say something.
gojo speaks up, “hmm, that’s weird..”
you curiously look up at him, “huh?”
“megumi’s demon dogs normally don’t act this way around people. it’s a bit weird how they’re cuddling up to you and whining for your attention, don’t you think?”
you think for a minute, taking in his words, “yeah, it’s a bit odd, but i’m totally fine with it. they’re such sweethearts!”
when your attention’s back on the demon dogs, gojo runs a hand down his face with a frown, looking at megumi with a look of disbelief on his face. he seriously can’t believe that you didn’t pick up on a word he said.
gojo knows well that megumi’s shikigami mirrors his emotions and feelings towards people, and the older man immediately knew about megumi’s liking towards you when he saw the demon dogs cuddle up to you.
he just wonders when and how megumi’s going to confess to you.
Sadly pocket pussy is the best fetish no obes heard of... a little magical ring someone can carry around and use to access your pussy at anytime... aimlessly playing with your folds like a fidget toy... keeping it down his pants so you can always feel a half hard cock rub against you. the sudden cock warming... the midnight fucks...
OK can I. you gift it to your boyfriend for him to use however he wants, but he usually just sticks his cock in at night and treats you like a flesh light.
one night he gets a little too drunk with his best friend and shows it to him. To brag about his perfect pussy that he can play with whenever he wants.
and the first thing his friend does is touch you. he runs his fingers through your folds, lingering at your clit before falling back down to your entrance.
"Whoa, you can't-"
"Come on, im' just touching. its not like im on top of her," he dismisses, already rubbing your clit. "Just let me play with it, okay?"
"Just don't fuck it, I guess."
Whenever hour boyfriend looks over for the rest of the night, his friend is touching you. sometimes gently admiring your pussy with his fingers. other times he has two fingers fucking you, pumping hard, and the other hand rubbing these wet, sloppy sounds out of you-
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to get her to squirt again." your boyfriend didnt know you could do that. "its just-"
the second your pussy dribbles, he brings it to his mouth and //drinks.//
warnings: semi-established relationship, semi-annoying brat!reader, blunt jealous!leon, choking (via weapon), public sex, minor weapon play, piv, more voice kink, biting/marking, hair pulling, mutual yearning, old man who doesn’t know how to use a phone, mentions of dead bodies, violence, viral mutations, long missions, and weapons (more DSO stuff), more sexual tension
w/c: 6.8k
notes: ty for all the support with the first one. part two to ldg!! this was supposed to come out earlier this week, but I was sick. I’m working on several drafts rn and I will post them next week to make up for it. don’t hate me. (srry I didn’t want to continue from the first part, and there’s some inconsistencies with your living space, house=apartment=condo, idk use ur imagination for it. again dividers from @uzmacchiato)
-3:32 am-
There’s a reason why so many people strictly follow the whole ‘no dating your coworkers’ rule. Ever since you and Leon had that little— incident in his car, things between the two of you became…tense. You couldn’t go a second without thinking of that moment every time you looked at him, and he had to pretend like he wasn’t fucking his hand at the memory.
The two of you were reduced to quick hallway interactions— small little glances, quick looks over the shoulders but neither of you said anything. What was there to say? ‘Thank you for fucking me, Leon. You really put me in my place.’
Almost two weeks of not seeing him.
It was absolute torture. Not being able to see him, not being able to at least bother him a little just to see the annoyance in his face. The two of you weren’t even put on the same reports anymore, there wasn’t a need to have him there with you now that you were comfortable enough to be on your own.
‘Comfortable’.
If anything it felt like the floor was ripped out from under you. You’d gotten used to his unimpressed stares and his dry sarcasm. You’d especially gotten used to the simple rhythm of getting under his skin. It was a delicate art. But now you had nothing.
It had been almost one week. Six days. One hundred and forty four hours. Five hundred eighteen thousand and four hundred seconds. You’d have to admit. You really missed him.
The best part of your long, Leon lacking work days were the nights. You knew every night, without fail, he’d text you. Just something short enough to pass as work-appropriate but simple enough to pass as friendly.
A reminder about a report you haven’t filled out yet. A correction on your behavior that he overheard from someone who had been paired with you for a field report. A sarcastic comment about something irrelevant.
Anything.
Some days, there was nothing special. But sometimes, he’d send something sweet enough that’d have you thinking of him more.
‘Saw you passing the hallway earlier. Stand up straight.’
‘Don’t stay too late.’
‘And don’t skip meals.’
You hated how much you looked forward to it now, that tiny chance your phone might light up with his name. You hated that you’d catch yourself rereading old messages like some lovesick idiot.
And the worst part?
Just now, when your phone buzzed on your nightstand in the middle of you tossing back and forth for an hour straight— you didn’t even pretend you weren’t hoping it was him.
You sat up quickly, grabbing your phone before hesitating for a second. You stared at your alarm clock for a tauntingly long minute before turning it on, opening the notification with a bit too much swiftness.
leon sexy kennedy:
You still awake?
You typed back before your brain could interfere.
Brat:
why?
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Reappeared.
leon sexy kennedy:
Just checking in.
Three dots appeared again. Disappearing for half a second before quickly reappearing, but you were quicker to respond.
Brat:
you’ve been doing that a lot lately
A longer pause this time.
leon sexy kennedy:
Yeah. I know.
leon sexy kennedy:
Is that an issue?
You ignored his question, because you really didn’t mind his check-ins. Turning on your stomach with your feet kicking up in the air, your fingers flew across the keyboard on your phone screen.
Brat:
miss training me already?
You watched the bubbles pop up, waiting as he took his sweet time typing.
leon sexy kennedy:
Something like that.
You didn’t know what that meant. You didn’t know why it made your palms sweaty and your heart pound in your chest. You stared at the screen, struggling for a right response.
leon sexy kennedy:
And you?
Brat:
is that your way of asking if I miss you?
leon sexy kennedy:
Was that not obvious?
Brat:
straight forward aren’t we
leon sexy kennedy:
I’ll take that as a yes.
Brat:
if that’ll help you sleep better at night
leon sexy kennedy:
It might.
Brat:
then I’ll keep it as an empty answer
Brat:
can’t have you falling asleep easily without thinking of me a little
He responds to your text message with a small yellow thumbs up, three dots immediately popping up and disappearing as he hesitated on a response. You watched as the bubbles appeared, staring impatiently until he finally responded.
leon sexy kennedy:
I’d say I’ve had a fair amount of thinking of you.
You practically squeal at his text, thrashing around in your bed as you stared at the message as if it might disappear. You took a deep breath in, quickly collecting your thoughts.
Brat:
really?
leon sexy kennedy:
I still have nightmares of training you.
Your smile quickly fell at his simple, nonchalant response, rolling your eyes as you fought the urge of attempting to reach through your phone just to choke him out. Hasn’t he been suffering as much as you have? At your lack of a response, he sends another text.
leon sexy kennedy:
Don’t think too much on it. I do think about you.
leon sexy kennedy:
Just in..small increments.
You press your lips together, giving his message a quick heart before immediately tucking your phone back into the nightstand. A large part of you wished you were able to hear him see that, to see the look on his face and to watch the way he’d react to you. But a smaller, more realistic version, was incredibly glad he hadn’t. You weren’t sure if you could handle Leon Kennedy of all people saying he thought of you no matter the context.
You exhaled slowly, sinking deeper into your blankets as you stared up at the ceiling. You ran a shaky hand along your face shifting onto your side as you tucked your hand under your pillow. You closed your eyes tightly, bringing your blanket up to your chin as you forced yourself to fall asleep knowing damn well Leon would probably be plaguing your dreams.
Again.
-5 am-
The morning light hit your room before you were fully prepared for it, warm sun slicing through the shades in long strokes of heat. Your phone remained untouched on your nightstand, eyes blinking past the first breath of sleep as you slowly rubbed the late night from your face. You were sort of dreading the day, a higher up informed you of a mission you were tasked with last night, and now that Leon wasn’t automatically assigned to help you, you were more than worried about how your day looked.
You rolled off your bed, grabbing your phone from the nightstand just to ensure it had been fully charged before making your way to the bathroom. You made it a habit to not check your phone immediately after texting Leon, the last time you did you stumbled upon a simple ‘Sleep well.’ that gave you an unnecessary pep in your step. It was bizarre, how quickly you could go from needing to annoy his every nerve to desperately needing something as polite as a goodnight text to make you feel better.
You stared at your reflection in the mirror, noting the minor dark circles from your lack of decent sleep. You quickly doused your face in cold water, patting your face dry with a soft hand towel. Almost as if on cue, your phone rings against the countertop of the sink. You glance over at the caller ID, letting out a heavy sigh as you awkwardly multi-task brushing your teeth and answering the phone.
“What?” You speak up, voice muffled around your toothbrush.
“Well, good morning to you.”
“Oh, Sherry, hi. Sorry—” You spat out the bubbly minty toothpaste from your mouth, looking at your mirror as you grabbed a cap full of mouthwash. “Had a long—or uh, short night.”
“You and me both,” you listened to the faint clicking on the other line, gurgling the mouthwash before spitting it out against the porcelain sink. “Listen, I just wanted to update you about the contamination, it looks to be a lot more severe than we thought so figured it was best to put two others—”
“Uh well, I don’t mind. The more, the merrier, right?” You wiped your hands on your face, patting away your damp hands before snatching the phone from the sink.
“You say that now but I’m not too sure you’d be happy about this.”
“Well, why not?” You make your way towards your room again, opening your closet door with a small creak.
“Well because Leon’s gonna be joining you two.”
You turned down to look at your phone, pulse pounding in your ears.
“Sorry—what?”
-7:24 am-
The air was colder than you expected it to be when you stepped out of the car, a frosty chill running up your spine that you were pretty sure was entirely just because Leon was finally within fifteen feet of you. The forest around the rendezvous point was eerily still, fog clinging to the ground mysteriously, leaves dripping from last night’s rain. Your boots sank slightly into the mud as you adjusted the strap on your pack, peeking over to the quiet building hidden between twisted branches.
Your partner, the one they’d originally assigned to you for this operation, walked a few steps ahead, checking his comms and looking up in the sky for some better signal. He was your age, maybe a year older, but seemed to have the mental body of an agent who has twenty years under his belt.
Two more sets of footsteps approached from behind you, one particular pair was familiar in a way that had you tensing. Leon stepped into your field of view, busy glancing over at the older agent that had been paired in your little team. Leon’s eyes flicked briefly over to you, then to your partner, then back to the building as if nothing mattered. The agent beside him stopped, eyebrows furrowed in irritation as he stared up at the looming structure.
You glance between the three men, just now realizing you’re the only woman there before sighing to yourself. You scratch the arch of your eyebrow, turning to the older gentleman as he spoke.
“Alright. We sweep the building first. Pairs of two.” Your partner straightened, motioning to you with the bottom of his flashlight.
“Cool. We’re ready.” He steps closer to you, almost as if automatically assigned the two of you as official partners. Leon and the older man share a quick look you’re unable to decipher, but you shrug anyways. Your only other options were being stuck with Leon for who knows how long, knowing you couldn’t stand two minutes around him without getting all giddy like a school girl. Or some random he seemed about ready to chew your head off.
Leon doesn’t say anything. He just adjusted his gloves, jaw tight, gaze sliding past you like he was trying very hard not to look too long. Your partner fell into step beside you as the four of you moved deeper into the trees, the fog thinning just enough to reveal the narrow trail ahead. He nudged your arm lightly with his elbow, glancing back at the other lingering pair.
“Stay close,” he whispered, flashing you a quick grin. “Wouldn’t want you getting lost out here.”
You rolled your eyes, turning to him as he stepped a little closer. You looked him up and down slowly, humming to yourself before looking straight ahead. “Maybe you should be worried about getting lost.” You side eyed him, glancing over your shoulder as you stumbled closer to him, shoulders bumping against his. He didn’t seem to notice, in fact he seemed to enjoy the slight touch.
Leon noticed.
You didn’t have to look back to know it. You could feel it, the warmth of his body as he stepped behind the two of you that subtle tightening of his steps behind you. He didn’t say anything but you could feel the way his eyes burned into the back of your head.
The older agent kept talking about the perimeter sweep, oblivious, but Leon’s attention wasn’t on the briefing. It was on you. Or more specifically, on the way your partner kept leaning in, pointing out tracks on the ground, leaning towards you like he had every right to.
You watched as your partner crouched to examine a footprint near a patch of disturbed soil, before looking up at you as he nodded for your attention. “See that?” He murmured, voice low. “Fresh. Maybe an hour old.”
You nodded, focusing on the ground, as you very much tried to ignore the heavy weight of Leon’s eyes following your every move. You stepped back as your partner rose again, before leaning down to examine the footprint yourself. Hand hovering near your shoulder as if he might steady you, he didn’t touch you, didn’t need to. It was a polite gesture, but the implication was enough.
Leon’s boots crunched dully against the gravel as he stepped forward, purposefully bumping into you. “Eyes up,” he said, voice even and hushed. “We’re not here to sightsee.”
Your partner straightened, clearing his throat as he practically scrambled to make a good impression on the older two men. “Just doing my job.” You rolled your eyes at your partner’s eager words, staring at Leon as he casted a simple glance your way.
The building looked abandoned from the outside, but the moment you stepped through the warped doorway, the air changed into a dense cold that reeked of damp wood and rusted metal. Dust floated in the beams of your flashlights as the four of you fanned out into what used to be a lobby, the floor littered with broken tiles and fallen plaster. Your partner clicked his light on and swept it across the far wall, spiderwebs glistening in the corners of the room.
“Alright, we’ll split the division onto the floors. You two take this floor, Leon and I’ll take upstairs.” The older agent nodded, hand resting on the handle of his axe as he looked between the three of you, already moving towards the eastern hallway.
Leon didn’t move right away, just stood near the doorway, scanning the room before looking your way. You turned towards your partner, glancing down the hallway as he motioned his flashlight along the creepy dark entrance. By the time you glanced over to where he was standing, Leon had disappeared down towards the east hallway with his designated partner.
The hallway your team assigned you to was narrow and dim, the old fluorescent lights overhead flickering like they were struggling to stay alive. Your partner walked beside you, sweeping his flashlight across peeling wallpaper and broken doorframes.
“Creepy place,” he muttered, hands jittering around his weapons holster. “Feels like the kinda building that’d be haunted even if it wasn’t abandoned.”
“Cool. Exactly what I needed. Ghosts.”
He grinned, a charming toothy smile. “Hey, if one shows up, I’ll protect you.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, elbowing him lightly as you quietly peeked around a nearby corner. “You’d trip over your own feet before you got the chance.”
He laughed quietly, a short easy sound that echoed down the hall. It wasn’t annoying or forced. It wasn’t forced. It was sorta nice, actually. The kind of comfortable banter you didn’t have to second guess on whether you’d offended each other.
The two of you rounded the hallway in no time, looping around the entrance and circling back around towards the initial hallway the four of you split up in. You pushed open an untouched nearby door to what looked like an old office, the smell of mildew hitting you immediately. Papers were scattered across the floor, warped from moisture.
He stepped in behind you. “Bet this place has rats the size of bulldogs.”
Your eyes quickly darted towards the floor, instinctively moving towards the small beam of light in the room. “That’s so not funny.”
He chuckled again, giving the room a quick flash of his light before nudging a broken chair with his boot. “Relax. If anything large like that jumps out out, I’ll probably scream first.”
That one actually made you laugh, nodding to yourself at the imagery of him screaming and hopping on a nearby table to avoid a comically large rodent. And of course, that was the exact moment you heard footsteps approaching from the intersecting hallway.
You turned just as Leon and his partner rounded the corner.
Leon’s eyes went straight to you.
Not the room. Not the surroundings.
You.
And then to the guy beside you, who was still smiling from his own joke, oblivious to the shift in the air.
Leon’s expression didn’t change, but something in his posture did. A subtle tightening of his shoulders, a slight narrowing of his eyes like he’d walked in on something he wasn’t prepared to see. Your partner, still cheerful, lifted his flashlight in greeting. “Hey, we were just checking this office. Don’t worry, no bulldogs here.”
You laughed again, the sound quickly dying off between a cleared throat as Leon gave you a stern look.
He didn’t say anything.
He didn’t have to.
His gaze stayed locked on you, unreadable but you could almost hear the annoyance in his thoughts. Questioning why you two were cracking jokes and irritated to what was so funny that you laughed like that and why it wasn’t because of him. You awkwardly stepped towards the hallway, his eyes following you as he remained planted by the doorframe just to watch the way you looked up at him.
The older agent stepped beside Leon, motioning towards your partner who was still searching the empty office. “Alright, we’re all clear. C’mon.”
The four of you stepped back out into the cold morning air, boots crunching over damp leaves as the wind whipped around you. You stepped quickly in an attempt to match Leon’s long strides, leaning forward to try to catch his eye but he was doing an exceptionally great job at ignoring you. Your attention shifted towards the older agent as he spoke something into his walkie, but you weren’t too focused on trying go hear it.
The hike back to the transport was quiet, the forest still damp from the night before. It was nicer now, the sun pressing warm against your face. “The place was a dead end,” your partner walked beside you, looking over at Leon who made his way to his car to avoid spending another uncomfortable second with him. You lingered by the younger man, turning slightly as he stretched his arms over his head. “So, I was thinking… maybe we could get a coffee later?”
You stopped mid-stride at his question, scratching the side of your head as you quickly glanced over to the familiar rumble of Leon’s car starting. “Oh, uh that’s a nice offer and all— I just don’t really date people I work with.”
“Oh, no yeah, of course. That makes— yeah, obviously, it can just be like between colleagues or… something.” He rambled on nervously, awkwardly clearing his throat again before clapping his hands together.
“But I like coffee.” You reassured gently, giving his shoulder a friendly pat just to solidify your boundaries before quickly making your way towards Leon’s car.
The passenger side was already unlocked, his gaze remained glued on the wheel as he waited for you to sit down and buckle up before even looking your way. You settled into the seat, the click of the seatbelt echoed loudly in the quiet of the car. The AC hummed softly between the two of you but Leon still didn’t look up.
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel once like he was grounding himself before he finally turned his head just enough to acknowledge you. “You good?” He asked, voice low but carrying something underneath it you couldn’t quite name.
You nodded. “Yeah.. you?”
He didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked over your face, quick but searching, like he was checking for something he wasn’t sure he wanted to find. Then he looked forward again, as he shifted the car into drive.
The forest began to slide past the windows as he pulled onto the narrow dirt road. For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, not exactly, but it was thick, and heavy with the same remembrance of what happened in this very vehicle just two weeks ago.
His grip on the wheel stayed firm, fingers tapping against the wheel. Every so often, his eyes flicked your way, like he was waiting for you to say something witty to break the silence. You stared down at your lap, letting the silence drag on and on until you could physically hear your heart pounding in your ears.
“So…” you spoke lightly, looking over at him with that shit eating grin he came to know so well. “Were you jealous?”
He side eyed you, and for half a second you could have sworn he rolled his eyes but he didn’t say anything. He shooed your teasing pokes away, glancing through the rearview mirror. “The two of you should have been more focused on the task than making each other laugh.”
“So you were.”
His silence was enough of an answer.
You hummed to yourself, leaning back against your seat as your attention lingered on him. You let the silence stretch and kept your eyes on him for a moment too long. Suddenly your thoughts are shifting towards the conversation the two of you had last night, and now that the two of you actually had a moment alone it gave you the perfect opportunity to ask. Leon seemed to pick up quickly on the subtle shift of your body language.
“What?” He looked over to you, giving you a small wave as if to tell you to get whatever you had on your mind out there in the open.
“Leon?”
“Yes?”
“Did you mean that—what you said last night?” He looks over at you, as if he hadn’t expected you to bring it up but quickly turns his attention to the road.
“Which part?”
“Oh— c’mon don’t make me say it.” You stared at him at his prolonged silence, rolling your eyes at the small uplift of his lips as he glanced at you.
“No, go ‘head… say it.”
You sighed heavily, crossing your arms. “Y’know… the whole… missing me stuff.” You half whispered as if someone would have heard what the two of you were talking about.
“Ohh, that?”
He hesitates for an unnecessarily long moment before slowly nodding. “Yeah, I did.”
“Did or do? Because ‘did’ is technically speaking in past tense and do would be more relevant to ou—”
“Starting to become past tense the more you speak, hun.”
“Hey!” You scoff lightly, nudging his arm lightly with your hand.
“I’m joking.” He spoke lowly, quickly grabbing your hand before you could pull away.
“So..do you?” You glanced down at his hand wrapped around yours, raising an eyebrow at him. You wiggle your hand out of his grip, staring down at the way his hand lingered in the air before falling against the center console. “Past tense or present tense?”
He stares out towards the road, fingers flexing in the air as he peeked towards you again. “I miss you, yeah.”
You fell silent at his easily spoken admission, leaning forward to catch his attention. “Really? You’re not just saying that because you feel like you have to say that answer?”
“I’m not saying it again.”
“Okay fine.” You raised your hands up in submission, a pleased smile on your face as you leaned back once again.
“You say it.” He speaks up after a pause of silence, eyes finding yours again. You look up at him in confusion, tilting your head slightly.
“Huh?”
“Tell me how much you’ve missed me.”
You laughed slightly in disbelief, clearing your throat as you quickly looked out the window to avoid his eye. “I haven’t missed you. Not one bit.”
“Really?”
“Really really.” You echoed back quickly, avoiding the way he peeked towards your obviously shy gaze. He smiled to himself, turning the corner towards your place before neatly parking at the front.
He locked the passenger side door as you unbuckled your seatbelt, attempting to get out. You turned back to him with furrowed eyebrows, unlocking the door just to have him lock it again. “Leon.” You scolded slightly, unlocking the door a second time before turning back to him as he locked it another time.
“Just say it once,” he shifted in his seat to face you, leaning forward to unlock the door for you before looking you up and down. “One time and we can pretend this conversation never happened.”
You nibbled on your bottom lip, glancing over at the safety of your house and the dark look in his eyes. You groaned dramatically, pinching the bridge of your nose before peeking up at him from in between your fingers. “Why?”
“I just want to hear you say it.”
You held his intense gaze, hiding the growing smirk behind your hands before quickly dropping your hands onto your lap as you forced a stoic look. You slowly moved your hand towards the door again, but he didn’t move to lock it again. He watched as you opened the door, stepping out one leg at a time before looking over at him again.
You quietly hopped out the car, turning to face him as you leaned your head into the vehicle. “Call me tonight.” You said simply, closing the door as you stepped onto the curb. You lingered on the sidewalk as he hesitantly pulled the car out of park before making your way inside the seclusion of your house.
-11:41 pm-
The day passed in a blur after that.
You showered. Ate something. Tried to nap. Failed. Tried to distract yourself. Failed harder.
Every time your phone buzzed, your heart dropped to your stomach, only for it to be another email or text from Sherry. You could’ve spent the entire night climbing up and down the walls from the anticipation of his call. By the time the clock hit eleven, the hope slowly died out.
Maybe he was working late.
Maybe he was busy.
The thought of him simply forgetting never once slipped in your head. That couldn’t be a possibility. Not when he spent the last two weeks texting you every night. Impossible.
Your apartment was quiet, dimly lit by the soft glow of the lamp on your nightstand. You just finished your nightly routine, purposefully dragging it by another thirty minutes just to see if he’d finally call. Hair damp from the wash, skin still warm and slightly sticky from moisturizer, you laid back against the headboard reading updated news regarding your dead end from earlier.
The silence felt heavier at night, like the whole day had been building toward something you weren’t sure would actually happen. Legs propped in front of you, you set your laptop aside, stretching out with a heavy sigh as you quickly glanced over at the time.
You were just about to set in for the night, just about to give up and turn off the light when your phone loudly rings somewhere in your bed. You jerk up, grabbing your laptop and setting it on the nightstand as you scramble to find your phone. The bright screen shines through the blanket like a halo of light calling out your name.
You snatch the phone from the blanket, fumbling it in your hand before glancing down at the contact.
leon sexy kennedy — calling…
For a second all you could do was stare at the screen, fingers shakily picking up the call as if this was the first time the two of you had even called. Sure you’d spoken a few times here and there, but there was something strangely nerve wracking and intimate about a call this late. You swiped to answer, setting the phone call on speaker as you set the device beside you.
“Hello?”
There was a soft, long exhale on the other end, like he’d been holding his breath without realizing it. You could hear the faint shuffle of maybe a bed or a couch before he finally spoke. “Didn’t wake you, did I?” Leon’s voice was low, rougher than it had been that morning. Like he’d just woken up, or had a long night. Maybe a bit of both. Either way, the sound of his voice set a warmth straight to your gut.
“No,” you said, settling back against your pillows. “I was up.”
A beat of charged silence. You could faintly hear his breathing before he let out a quick hum. You could picture him almost perfectly; sitting on his couch, legs spread out, one hand on his thigh—
God you felt like a pervert.
“You told me to call.” He said quietly, and you desperately wished you had the patience to help him turn on his FaceTime just to take the opportunity to stare at him a little more.
“And you listened. I’m impressed, really.”
Another quiet breath, something between an annoyed laugh and a huff of air. “I actually tend to listen to most people.”
You shifted, pulling your blanket over your legs, fingers itching at your pajama pants as you literally fought the urge of tossing and turning like some school girl talking to her crush. “Long day?”
“Longer than it should’ve been.” His voice dipped a little lower, and it took everything in you not to moan like some whore. You pinched the bridge of your nose, rubbing for a moment as you leaned down slightly. “Been thinking about some things.”
You raised an eyebrow even though he couldn’t see it, looking over to your phone. “Oh? Like what?”
You heard him move, the faint rustle of fabric, the subtle sound of him leaning closer to his phone. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, and somehow more intimate. “Like what you didn’t say in the car.”
You groaned at the reminder, rolling your eyes as you buried your face in your hands. “God, I’d figured a guy your age would’ve forgotten that.”
“Excuse me?” The tone is his voice pitched up just enough to have you scrambling for an explanation.
“No I didn’t mean like in a rude way— I was just kinda hoping you’d be too busy to have that thought on your mind—”
“Jesus Christ, kid. Just say you’ve missed me as much as I missed you so I don’t feel like I’m going crazy.”
You hesitated at his interruption, wiping your hands on your thighs as you nibbled on your bottom lip. He was quick to pick up your hesitation, a small tsk leaving his lips.
“You shy?” He spoke teasingly, all light and happy as if you weren’t physically struggling to say three simple words.
You sighed, grabbing your phone and bringing it against your chest to rest. “No.”
“Better not be shy at saying some words when you were soo eager to have me cum inside you.” You blinked at the remembrance of that night, slowly looking down at your phone as if you didn’t hear him correctly.
“S-sorry what was that?” You stumbled out in one pained breath only for him to laugh at you.
“You heard me.”
Your ears were burning at the reminder of you in his car, riding him in the middle of nowhere. You’d relived that moments six times in the past week, twice in your dreams. You heard him speaking, but you couldn’t quite make it out, ears ringing at the echo of his groans against your ear. It was all too much, not just the sex, but the entire absence of him, stripped away from you with no warning. It was so unfair.
“Leon, I miss you so much.” You hated how whiny you sounded, like some kid bitching about their favorite toy being taken away, but you almost didn’t care.
“I know you do, gorgeous.” His voice was so soft, it literally pained you. All tender, and sweet and annoyingly gentle.
You sighed heavily, pouting to yourself. You were about to let yourself wallow in your little pity party before his voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Hey. Don’t go getting all pouty on me.”
“I am not pouting.”
“I can hear your pout from here.”
“Okay, fine whatever, I’m pouting,” you threw your hands exasperatingly in the air even if he couldn’t see it. You tapped your phone screen, checking the time before pressing the tip of your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “Leon?”
“Yes?” He responded immediately, breath heavy and bated, like he’d been patiently waiting for you to say his name again.
You hesitated for a moment, heart jumping in your throat as you took a shaky breath. “Do yo—can…hmm.” You trailed off, scratching the side of your neck as you stared down at your lap.
“Do you want me to come over?”
“Yes.”
-12:35 am-
Leon had remained on the call the entire drive to your house, you could hear the speeding but you made no outward note on it. By the time you heard his car pull towards the driveway, you’d hung up the phone, eagerly waiting at the door. You impatiently lingered by the front door, peeking out the window as you chewed down on your glossy painted nails.
At the soft knock on your door, you quickly swung it open, his eyes immediately catching yours. You stepped aside to let him in, carefully closing the door behind him as the two of you stared at each other in silence. The tension was so thick you could scoop it up into a cup and fuel an entire city with its electricity.
His arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer as he slowly leaned down to press a kiss against your lips. You instantly leaned into the kiss, lips meshing together in a blur of needy touch as he pulled you against his chest. His hand ran up along your back, dragging against the fabric of your pajamas before pulling away. “Nice pjs.”
You chased after his lips as he leaned back, fingers brushing the airy fabric between two digits. You licked your lips at the lingering feel of his mouth, glancing down at your clothes before smiling at him. “Yeah, kiss me again.”
He raised an eyebrow at you, mouth tilting into a smug grin before planting another quick kiss on your lips. “Did you ask me here just to get in my pants?” He mumbled slightly against your lips, shifting his touch down to your ass as he slowly scooped you up into his arms. You rested one hand on his shoulder, sliding up to try to pull him closer.
“Shut up and kiss me again.” You whined impatiently, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance but he happily obliged. His lips met yours in a slow melt, tongues pressing and twisting passionately against one another as he stumbled towards your couch.
He carefully set you down on the cool fabric, setting in between your legs as he ran his hands under your shirt. His lips trailed away from your mouth towards your neck, slowly sinking his teeth down with long sucks. Dragging the fabric up to expose your stomach to his gaze, he lightly ran his fingertips against your lower navel, watching the way your skin rose with goosebumps.
You leaned your head back against the armrest, one hand resting on the side of his head to silently encourage him. He dragged the base of his tongue down to your collarbone, giving the skin light little nips as he continued to inch his way further down to your chest. You watched him with heavy breaths, forcing yourself to hold your breath as he guided your shirt further up towards your shoulders.
He quickly captured a hard, pebbled nipple in his mouth, his other hand sliding up to grope your breast as he softly sucked at the bud. You sighed shakily, biting down on your bottom lip as he kissed and sucked at your breast. His fingers dipped down towards the waistband of your pants, gently tugging them free. You breathed out in between rapid pants. He guided your legs up as he inched further down until his head was pressed in between your thighs. Guiding your knees over his shoulders, he looked up at you, giving him a lazy smile. “Relax, I’ll take my time.”
-two days later: 9 am-
You and Leon were standing outside a secured research outpost about an hour from HQ, the kind of off‑site facility the DSO only used when something needed to be kept quiet. Carrying the hum of generators and the distant echo of metal doors sliding open and shut, you adjusted your sweaty grip on a nearby tree.
Leon’s got one hand firmly wrapped around the handle of his axe, the smooth wood pressed firmly against your throat as he slides in and out of your abused pussy in slow thrusts. Your groans are strained against the material against your throat, fingers gripping at the bark of the tree in front of you for stability. Not your best moment to be getting fucked in the forest behind a research outpost, especially not when you’d already came twice, but you learned not to focus on the serious consequences of getting caught.
The two of you had been assigned to this location for follow‑up analysis on the intel from your last mission. Just the two of you, tucked away from the main building and everyone else’s noise. Leon’s eyes scanned the perimeter quietly, strained grunts and groans slipping from his lips. Your toes curled as his hand wrapped around his axe pressed the wood further into your throat, squeezing out a whiny moan.
You both had a lengthy conversation the other night when he came over, one that completely soothed your nerves in every way possible. While he was busy spitting against your cunt and kissing your folds, the two of you sorta came to an agreement to see each other more often. And of course it just so happened that you suddenly had him assigned with you and your next four missions this month. You had no problem with it, especially if you got to see him more often. Plus, it didn’t hurt to get a little action from it too.
You yelped weakly as his hips snapped against yours, pelvis meeting your ass in quick thrusts. You gasped hoarsely, eyebrows furrowed as you grasped at the tree for some type of salvation. “Mmpfuck, right there.” You moaned desperately, hips spasming against his as he quickly gave your hair a firm pull to shut you up.
“Shush.” He reminded through clenched teeth, letting the axe fall from his grip, catching it before it could clatter on the wet dirt beneath you. He presses the axe head against the bark beside your head, moaning lowly at the feeling of your pussy clenching around his pistoning cock.
“I-I’m trying.” You retorted sharply, the tone in your voice quickly loosing its bite as he gives your head a warning tap with the side of the axe head. Your head leans towards the rough tree, cunt fluttering around him as you can feel your third climax approaching.
He slides the axe against the trunk of the tree, using his now empty hand to wrap around your throat and pull you up against him. You immediately rest your hand on his shoulder, biting through another whiny moan as your pussy clenches around his cock. White hot warmth runs through your veins, body convulsing in his arms as your orgasm washes over you. Your mouth falls open in a broken moan as he quickly squeezes your throat to force the sound to die out.
Your juices soak down along his dick, gushing out against his thighs and onto the leaf covered forest floor. His dick throbs and jumps inside you, keeping you firm against him you can barely feel the way his cock sprays out hot semen in long spurts. His lips find their way to your reddened neck, gently kissing the sting away and moving over the faint love bites he eagerly left the other night.
He keeps himself plugged inside you, one hand smoothing down your stomach as he peppers your neck in kisses. You slowly come down from your high, finally gaining some feeling in your legs as you twitch against him. “How d’you feel?” He asked softly, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
You scoffed slightly, attempting to stretch out the discomfort in your limbs. “Well, my legs aren’t asleep anymore.” He grinned down at you, carefully waiting until the tips of your toes searched for the dirt before setting you down and pulling out with a wet squelch.
“This’ll make for an interesting report.”
“What will?” You looked back at him as he rubbed your back, tilting your chin up to examine your neck before cupping the back of your neck with a teasing look.
warning: age gap (reader’s mid 20s-early 30s), annoying brat!reader, piv, wet dreams, masturbation, pussy slapping, angry car sex (kinda hate sex but not really), minor choking, sexual tension, voice kink, mentions of dead bodies, themes of field investigation, violence, viral mutations, weapons and physical training (literally just DSO stuff)
w/c: 8.3k
notes: I just saw a tt of this idea, so I had to do this asap. hopefully this suits the person’s idea, if not, I’m glad I made this. you can find part two here. (@uzmacchiato for dividers)
-present time: month two, 9 pm-
The car was engulfed in silence, rain poured heavy against the vehicle slackening the roads and blurring the city lights into long, watery streaks. The wipers dragged across the windshield in slow arcs, Leon’s eyes remained firm on the dark road, jaw tight enough that you could faintly see the worked up muscle clench against the blue lights. One hand was white knuckled gripping the wheel, the other was glued to his inner thigh folded into a firm first.
You sat stiff and awkward in the passenger seat, arms crossed over your chest as if you were wrongfully reprimanded (some would say that you were). Neither of you had said a word since getting in the car, just sat in silence for ten painful minutes. You were too busy stubbornly staring out the window and he was busy giving you well deserved silent treatment. It’s been like this for two whole weeks. Constant bickering, constant arguing, constantly having to put up with your bullshit.
Leon exhaled through his nose, eyes set on the blur in front of him, ears ringing from how fucking quiet it was. And it’s weird because Leon has dealt with much, much worse, but something about you just worked him on his last nerves. He’s literally fought the worse of the worse, but you just got under his skin in a way he couldn’t shake.
You were assigned to him on a cold Monday morning, loud confident and painfully honest. The first three hours he had with you were bliss, you listened, you nodded all eagerly and got along with the others. The second you were fully alone with him, you completely switched, lips pouted, arms crossed, eyes rolling at every thing he said.
Leon had tried, really tried, to be patient. He’d even given you the whole, ‘I’m not as scary as I seem’ speech.
Didn’t matter.
You talked back, you argued, you sassed him.
-day one, 8 am-
Leon stood in the hallway outside the training room, arms crossed, trying to look approachable. It wasn’t really working.
You were escorted by someone whose name you kept forgetting, walking up to him as you eagerly scanned the place. You didn’t even notice that the person left, not even bothering to introduce you to Leon, but it wasn’t really like you needed an introduction. You heard a lot about him.
“Rookie,” he greeted gruffly with a nod, your attention turning away from the framed photo on the wall beside him. You blinked up at him, giving him a small smile as you tried your very best not to ogle. “Welcome.”
“Thanks.” It was quick, a little too friendly and curt, but the words stuck in your throat like your body was forcing you to not word vomit to Leon of all people. All 5’11, tired, stubble blessed calmness wrapped up in the hottest dilf you’ve ever seen.
You blinked, clearing your throat awkwardly. “What did you say?”
He eyed you once, exhaling slightly before nodding to follow him. “First day jitters is normal. Try not to let it get to your head.”
You followed him like a lost puppy, staring at the back of his head letting your eyes just naturally trail along down his shoulders and arms. You weren’t able to stop in time at his abrupt stop, colliding into his back in a quick smack that had you letting out a loud oof in surprise. He immediately turned around, barely budging as he looked down at you.
Silence.
Heavy, suffocating silence.
“Maybe try to walk beside me and not behind me.”
“Right, sorry.”
Leon lead you to the training room, giving you side glances every now and then to make sure you weren’t stumbling over yourself again.
“Are we immediately going to train?” You asked loudly, stepping in front of him and turning around as you walked backwards just so you could look at him.
“Did you think we were?”
“Aren’t we?” He stared at you silently, glancing behind you at the rapidly approaching wall, stopping a few feet from a nearby door so you couldn’t go smacking into it. “Can we?”
“I think it’s a little more custom to show you around and introduce you—”
“I just want to get to the good stuff.” You interrupted impatiently, looking down a nearby hallway before rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet.
“I’m sure we’ll get to that soon.”
“What’s down there?” You pointed with one finger, Leon looked down the hallway with you, turning to look at you again.
“Offices.”
“Oh, okay.” You trailed off, looking up at the ceilings for some type of directional cues. “Whose office?”
“Important people.”
“Do you have an office?”
“No.”
“I thought important people have offices.”
Leon breathed in slowly at that, eyes boring into you. “What was that?”
You looked at him again, eyebrows raised slightly. “Huh? Oh, I meant, just— y’know…”
He let you stumble over your words, eyes meeting your avoidant ones until you quickly turned to go down the hall. “You’re going the wrong way.” He said simply, watching as you did a full 180 and walked the opposite direction.
This is going to be a very long day.
-day two, 4 pm-
He could still hear your voice echoing in the back of his head, unnecessary comments, rapid-fire questions, annoyed sighs. Everything went down hill after showing you around, he blamed it on nerves. That was the only thing that stopped him from questioning his own sanity.
Leon stared at the ceiling.
He’d been through hell.
Literal hell.
And yet somehow you were the one testing his mental health.
Leon was focused on the briefing folder in his hands, blocking out your nonstop seven minute rant. He honestly wasn’t even sure what the fuck you were even talking about, or how you had so much to talk about. He hoped you would’ve just tired yourself out and stopped talking completely, but you never did.
“…and I’m just saying, why would he expect perfection out of me for our first drill? It was so unfair. I didn’t have breakfast either, I slept through my first alarm, so I had to drink some gross smoothie my roommate made. Do you like smoothies, or are you more of a milksh—”
Leon closed the folder slowly.
“You done?”
You blinked at him. “Well, no? I was just about to ask if you liked milkshakes more than smoothies. I can understand if you do, sometimes I prefer milkshakes more.”
He just let you ramble on, opening the folder again to quietly read the contents. Inhaled through his nose and reminding him that you were new, he was a professional, he’s been in your shoes before. It’s just nerves. It’s just nerves.
“Also, you walk a little too fast. Could you slow down a bit?” At your question, he immediately stopped walking, turning to the side to face you as he closed the folder.
“You have to keep up.” He spoke softly, extending the folder for half a second like he was debating on letting you read it but decided not to give it to you.
“But I can’t really keep up with you if you’re taller than me.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, and looked down at the folder for some divine intervention to help him out of this interaction. “Okay, I’ll walk a lil’ slower.” He looked back at you with a tight smile, walking in an awkward languid stride.
He was starting to miss zombies again.
-day five, 12 pm-
Leon crouched beside the evidence marker, gloved fingers tracing the edge of a blistered wound on the open neck of the victim. You watched as he examined the scorch pattern on the concrete, head tilting as he examined the body. You stood behind him, arms crossed, rocking on your heels.
“What am I supposed to be doing?” You stepped onto the tips of your toes, peeking over his shoulder to watch his gloved hand as he
“Observing.”
“I already am.”
“Then you’re doing what you need to.”
You fell quiet, staring at the back of his head before quickly crouching beside him, stepping so unnecessarily close that your shoulders bump together. “Is that a bite or a burn?”
Leon doesn’t look up, and you’re not sure if he’s aware of the close proximity or just doesn’t care. “Burn. High-temp, chemical.”
“Can I examine it too?”
“No.”
“Am I supposed to just watch you?” You asked curiously, turning at the sound of his knees popping as he stood upright again. Your gaze lingered on his legs, inching up slowly, slowly before craning your neck to look up at you. He was looking off into the distance, scanning something you weren’t able to see. “I could help you if you told me.”
“It’d help me if you were quiet,” you could tell he didn’t mean to say it, just a slip of his mouth that he wasn’t able to stop in time. Your eyebrows furrowed in defensiveness, lips curled into an offended pout as you stood up. His head quickly turned to you, eyebrows lifting slightly in recognition. “I’m sorry. It’s easier for people to focus on the evidence when it’s a bit… quieter.”
You looked away, mumbling to yourself before digging the tip of your shoe into the dirt. For the tiniest of seconds, he actually felt bad, watching your shoe scrape in the dirt and the way your shoulders curled in slightly. He approached you quietly, head ducking slightly to try to catch your eye, one hand hovering over your shoulder. “Hey..”
You finally lifted your head, eyes narrowed just a little in that bratty, dramatic way that had him immediately pulling back. “Is your lack of patience a compensation for your inability to be in full control of others?”
He sighed sharply, giving you a slow nod as his eyebrows raised quickly in that ‘figures she’d start something’ kind of way. He hummed lowly, blinking down at you before tugging on the edges of his sleeve. “I’m used to working alone. That’s all.”
You blinked, pursing your lips together to try to offer some advice, but he cut you off before you opened your mouth again. “Maybe you should wait in the car, hm? I think we could both use a break.”
For a moment, the air between you softened. Just a little. You stared at him for a long moment, eyes flicking along his face before shrugging slightly. “Fine by me.”
You walked past him, glancing over your shoulder to sneak another peek at him as he turned around, the broad expanse of his back moving slowly against the tight fabric of his shirt. You lingered by just long enough to watch the muscles move, eyes trailing up along his shoulders before hurriedly dipping into the safety of the car with a shaky exhale.
-day seven, 3 pm-
The warehouse was dark, cold and stuffy, reeking of mold and whatever organisms were too busy growing in between the walls. Leon figured it would be a good idea to bring you out to the field with him. Exposure therapy. It was more in hopes that whatever happened was scare you into not being an insufferable brat for two minutes. It was a terrible thought to think, especially about a new recruit, especially by someone he was training.
It seemed like you were purposefully stepping too close to him, he could feel the warmth of your body seeping into his personal space. You lingered exactly three inches away from him, chest nearly pressing into his back in an incredibly distracting way. He had cast you two stern looks to try to give you a silent reminder on this new thing called personal space, but nothing seemed to click.
He held up a fist, a clear signal to stop. You kept walking too distracted on the creepy, dark hallway to the right of you to notice his signal. You bumped into his back, hard enough that you were sent right back into a déjà vu moment of your first day. You quickly looked up at him, hoping he wouldn’t send another firm, cold look towards your way. Leon slowly turned around, eyeing you up and down once before walking forward after a long period of silence.
You winced to yourself, focusing on the back of his shoulder and the extend of his arm as he held his gun out. He took a sharp turn left towards a crate covered in yellow stickers, but you were a fraction too slow to turn. He quickly grabbed the back of your crate, tugging you towards him with such simple ease you were certain your stomach butterflies multiplied into frantic moths.
“Stop,” he said simply, keeping your vest firm in his grip, looking sternly at you in a way that had your cheeks warming. “Pay. Attention.”
“I am.” You rebutted to yourself, watching as he shook his head, but motioned for you to follow him before moving towards the safety of the crate. You listened this time, mainly staying behind him just to proudly stare at the way he moved.
-day thirteen, 5 am-
The sky was still dark when Leon stepped out of his car, eyes heavy, shoulders stiff. You were already waiting at the entrance of the building for him, quickly rushing forward at the sight of him stepping out.
“Good morning,” you smiled sweetly, handing him a small paper cup of black coffee. He looked down at it in silence, rubbing the side of his stubbled jaw before cautiously taking the cup. “Nice car.”
You peeked inside the car through its windows, squinting as you tried to scan the interior. Leon just wrapped an arm around your hip, politely turning you away. “Thank you.”
“I guess the higher ups had to repay for not giving you an office, huh?” You joked lightly, nudging your elbow against his, but he just blankly stared at you. Taking a long sip of his coffee, and maintaining that eye contact, he nodded once.
“Not much of a morning person?” You asked, quickly following after him as he took three steps off the street. He inhaled through his nose, taking another aggressively large gulp. “It’s a beautiful day out.”
At your words, he looked up at the sky, subtly looking around for the beautiful day you were talking about. “Where?”
You pressed your lips together, motioning around at the semi quiet area. “Everywhere.” Leon gave you a look, glancing down at the half drunken coffee in his hand before humming lowly.
“Drink a lot of these?” He motioned with the cup.
“How’d you know?” You tilted your head at him, skipping in line as he stepped up the stairs of the building.
“Just a hunch.”
You nodded to yourself, feet subconsciously pattering in line with his strides. He stopped at the top of the stairs, turning to you before he opened the door. “You seem tired, Leon.”
“Do I?” He said sarcastically, opening the large front door for you. He stepped behind you after you entered the building, quickly tossing the coffee into a nearby trash can.
“So, I’m taking it you’re not a morning person? Are you more of a night owl? Or maybe like an evening…stallion?”
“I’m always tired.”
“Why?”
“Because of you, kiddo.”
You paused, puffing your cheeks out at the very appealing fact of Leon being awake all night because of you. You cleared your throat, trying not to dwindle too much on thoughts of what he’d be doing all alone late at night. “You saying I keep you up?”
He nodded simply, but his head snapped around at the sound of your poorly muffled snickers. He tilted his head at you, a short, genuine chuckle slipping from his lips as he realized the hidden innuendo of his words. “Yeah, that’s real cute.”
Your brain literally short circuited at the sound of his laugh, eyes blinking once at him as if he had sprouted angel wings and a glowing halo.
-day eighteen, 1 pm-
You and Leon are sat side-by-side in the briefing room, legs pressed together in a professional, bordering on inappropriate way. The director drone on about mission parameters and potential targets. You weren’t too sure, you stopped listening six minutes ago. Your leg was jittering up and down, foot bouncing sporadically against cold tile. Every now and then, your foot would nudge against his boot, and even though he’d occasionally nudge his foot against yours to get you to stop, you physically couldn’t. It was like your body just needed the physical reminder that he was just within reach.
You sat up straight as the director glanced your way, eyes scanning the room to ensure everyone was still paying attention. You peeked a fast side glance his way, then another, trying to savor the look of his side profile.
You nudged his foot once.
Nothing.
Nudged again.
Nothing.
Nudged a third time.
Nothing.
He just sat there, actively listening to everything the director said, not even sparing you the smallest of glances. You nudged his foot again, and he was quick to reach down under the table to grab your knee. You stared down to where his hand engulfed your knee, forcing your leg still. His jaw flexed, muscles visibly clenched to keep from speaking while the director was.
You looked up at him again as he pressed enough force against your thigh that you could feel the heat of his palm through the fabric of your pants. You kept still, slowly blinking up at his stoic expression. After a moment of keeping you in place, he unfortunately pulled away from you, the warmth of his hand disappearing almost immediately.
You waited about two seconds before nudging his foot again.
-day twenty four-
The two of you sat silent in a filing room, sitting on a metal table, you watched Leon as he stared down at the newly filed report in his hands. You could see the way his eyes shifted back and forth as he reviewed the mission report, checking over for anything he might have missed. You leaned forward towards the edge of the table, legs swinging back and forth before you cleared your throat.
“How’d I do?” He set down a pen nearby beside you, running one hand through his hair before looking at you.
“If you hadn’t ignored two of my commands, you would have done better.”
You sighed softly, looking down at your thighs as you brushed off a small speck of lint from your pants. Leon’s eyes followed the movement, turning to look back at the report.
“So, like on a scale from one to ten?”
“Six.”
“A six?” You repeated in shock, eyes wide as your head snapped up to him fast enough there would’ve been a cartoonish whoosh of air.
He shrugged, patting you by the hip to motion for you to get down. You quickly hopped off, snatching the pen from the table and clicking it aggressively a few times. “Well, you did…better. Than last time.”
“Really?”
“Mhm.”
“By how much?”
“On a scale from one to ten?” You nodded at him, to which he looked away deep in thought. “One.”
-day thirty three, 10 am-
You handed Leon the file he asked for, but not before giving him a once‑over. He gave you a double take, eyebrows furrowed at the sudden look but turned to study the file. His eyes flicked up from the paperwork, catching the way your gaze lingered a little too long on his hands. He quickly looked down at the papers, trying to ignore the burning feeling of your eyes on him.
“You look like you slept well last night,” you said suddenly, and he had to force himself to not look up at you. “Did you?”
“I guess so, yeah.”
“Does that mean you’re not thinking of me anymore?”
At that, his eyes looked up to meet yours, eyebrows tilted up ever so slightly. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, I mean, like— a few weeks ago you said that y—”
“I know what I said.”
“Is that a no?”
He looked down at the file, not answering your question, but his silence was enough of an answer for you. You pressed your lips together in annoyance, shoulders squaring slightly like you were getting ready to pounce on him. You stared at him, chewing on the inside of his cheek as you debated on how to get his attention again.
“Maybe it’s a good thing then. People your age need all the sleep they can get.” He blinked at you, tucking the file under his large bicep.
Bingo.
“My age?”
“Yeah. Y’know, like… an older guy.”
For a moment, you could see the puzzle clicking together in his head, the loud debate on whether he was going to entertain your stupidity or not. He blinked slowly, turning around to start walking down the hallway. You huffed under your breath, rushing a little to catch up to him. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Sleep is important for everyone, but more important for older people.”
He nodded silently, stepping out the building and walking to his car, not bothering to check to make sure you were following because he knew you well enough to know that you were following him like a baby duck. “I slept really good last night too.”
“Yeah, that’s good, kid.” You hummed happily to yourself, hands behind your back as you rounded the car to reach the passenger side.
You swung the door open, stumbling inside before slamming the door behind you. You waited until he got in the car, door closing with a soft thud before grinning at him. “Do you normally stay up late thinking of me? Isn’t that a bit unprofessional?”
“I think this conversation is unprofessional.”
“You didn’t say no.”
He shifted in his seat as he clicked his seat belt on, leaning against the leather cushioning as he stared at you. He turned the car on with a quick motion of his wrist, resting his hand against the bottom of the steering wheel. “Put your seatbelt on.” He said curtly, looking out the window until he heard the soft click of the belt.
“…Leon?”
“Yes?”
“Are you embarrassed because of my question?” You leaned forward, hands on the center console as you pushed through his personal space bubble like always. He looked over at you, peeking towards the windows as he started the car.
“No.”
“But you didn’t answer my question.”
“Your question doesn’t need to be answered.”
“But not giving me an answer makes it seem like you do think of me.”
“Yeah, I see you in my nightmares.”
-day thirty nine-
The building was quiet for once, the kind of late‑evening lull where most agents had already gone home and city around had gone quiet out of respect for long days. You were exhausted, body heavy, eyes droopy, mind all foggy from a day of investigations and identifying viral mutations. The sights were burned into your head, staring at vials under a UV and spending hours trying to identify which one is which, what they look like when they take a host, which one is more deadly. And don’t even get started on the amount of filing you’d done.
Who knew the DSO required so much work?
The clock on a nearby wall ticked towards midnight, dim lights peered out from closed doors of other agents who were trying to wrap up their last bit for the day. You hadn’t seen Leon since that abandoned building earlier today, and honestly, you were starting to miss his brooding self, even if it had barely been only thirteen hours since you last saw him.
You’re holding a cup of lukewarm coffee that you’ve neglected to drink because you were too busy running around reviewing case files you didn’t fully understand. You’re sitting on the floor of an empty hallway, back against the wall and a small handful of paperwork spread out awkwardly against your lap. You reread the same sentence you’ve been stuck on for five minutes, trying to get your mind out of its temporary brain freeze.
Footsteps echoed from down the hall, you quickly pull your legs into a lopsided pretzel, blinking up at the pair of legs with a tight polite smile. You’re fully expecting to see some random person giving you a concerned look at the disheveled sight of you. Leon appears from the corner, jacket off, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, hair slightly mussed from running his hands through it too many times.
He stops when he notices that it’s you on the floor and not another stressed out newbie. “You’re still here?” He asked, voice low and hushed. For the first time since he’s met you, and probably for the first time today, you don’t speak.
Or complain.
Or correct him, or make fun of him for stating the obvious.
You were just quiet, brain running on 20%, body slumped over in fatigue and face completely calm in similar ways it would be when you’d just woken up from a peaceful sleep. He lingers in front of you, watching as you gave him a slow nod before crouching down in front of you. “What are you working on?”
“This...” You trailed off as you tried to find the right words, but eventually gave up and opted on giving him the report so he could read through it instead. Your eyes shift from his own, watching them flick left and right as he read, before dipping down to where his arms hovered over your knees.
“How long have you been at it?”
“Uhm…what time is it now?”
Leon watched you for a moment, arms crossed loosely. It was strange seeing you like this— not poking at him, not trying to get a rise out of him. Just… relaxed.
He gently grabbed the rest of the papers from your lap, standing up slowly. “C’mon, you’re done for the night.” He extended his hand out to you, to which you quickly obliged, reaching out to allow your hand to be blanketed in his.
He pulled you up with ease, his hand steady around yours as he tugged you towards him. You stumbled forward slightly, legs half asleep from the position you were in, standing closer to him than you meant to be. You quickly straightened up, smoothing the wrinkles on your pants as you took a small step back.
“Grab your stuff,” he looked down the hall as you quickly bent down to grab the coffee cup from the floor, his eyes flicking momentarily at the curve of your ass. “I’ll take you home.“
You turned to him with eyebrows raised. “No, that’s okay, you don’t have to—”
“I know,” he cut in gently. “I’m still doing it.”
There was no room to argue, not with the way he quickly turned to walk down the empty hall. You rushed after him, the building humming quietly around you as he glanced over to the side to ensure you were nearby.
“You shouldn’t be here this late.”
“You were here this late.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
He didn’t answer, just pressed the elevator button and waited, arms crossed against his chest. The elevator doors slid open, and he gestured you inside with a small tilt of his head before following after you. The doors closed with an eery shut, sealing the two of you in a quiet metal box lit by soft fluorescent light.
You leaned against the wall, watching the levels tick down. “What were you doing?”
“Work.”
You looked over at him, glancing in his hands for the paper or files he would’ve been working on but you only found the ones he took from you. “Where’s your files?”
“Submitted.”
“Oh.”
He looked over at you, giving you a slow hum. “I’ll keep these in my car until tomorrow.” He just stood there beside you, keeping the files tucked under his armpit.
“Thanks.”
By the time you reached the garage, the air was cold enough to make you shiver, night air biting aggressively at your face. Leon unlocked the car with a soft beep, stepping around the vehicle to open the passenger door for you. You slid into the passenger seat, sinking into the warmth of the interior. Leon got in a moment later, shutting the door with a soft thud that echoed in the quiet garage.
He started the engine, the dashboard lighting up in soft blues. The radio stayed off. You provided him your address, but for a while, neither of you spoke.
You watched the way his hands rested on the wheel, the way his eyes darted around the roads as he drove. The ride was surprisingly relaxing, the perfect amount of comfortable silence needed for such a late night.
When he finally pulled up in front of your building, he shifted the car into park but didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at you, just sat there, hands resting against the wheel, eyes forward. You unbuckled slowly, glimpsing up at him before swinging the door open. “Thank you, Leon.” At the sound of his name, he glanced your way, giving you a slight nod.
The cold air hit you the moment you opened the door, but the warmth from the car clung to your skin. You stepped out, closing the door gently behind you. You walked toward your building, your footsteps soft on the pavement. Halfway up the stairs, you turned back towards the unmoving car.
Leon was still there, still watching. Sitting in the quiet glow of the dashboard lights, eyes following you until you reached the door. He didn’t even look away when you turned back. You turned towards the front door with a shaky sigh, swallowing the lump in your throat as you unlocked it.
Stepping inside, you quickly peeked out the nearest window at the sound of the low rumble of his car pulling away. You smiled to yourself, biting your bottom lip before rushing up to your bedroom.
The peace was nice while it lasted.
-day forty, 1 am-
Leon could feel the weight of your body on top of him, the tight suction of your cunt around his cock had his head tipping back, guiding your hips against his own. Each breathy little gasps and moans filled his ears, cock twitching inside you.
Heavy eyes were stuck to your every move, watching as you bounced up on his length, trailing down to the jiggle of your tits. The slick sounds of your pussy rang in his ears, breathing heavy as he stared up at your face, soaking in every inhale you took. Leon gripped your hips tighter, one hand sliding down to grope at your ass lifting up and connecting down against the flesh in a firm smack.
Lost in the feeling of you, he was only dimly aware of a distant ringing sound until the shrill trill of his cell phone shrilled loudly, slicing through the haze of lust. Leon's eyes flew open, his body rigid as he jolted awake. The first thing he saw was the empty expanse of his bedroom, the rumpled sheets tangled loosely around his bare legs. The second was the unmistakable heat and dampness between his own thighs, sticky and cool in the wake of his precum his cock throbbed against his sweats.
With a low, frustrated groan, he slowly sat up against his headboard, staring off into space as his phone continued to ring. He didn’t even want to give his dream a second thought, but the painful heat in his gut made it incredibly hard to.
Leon cursed under his breath. “No fucking way.” He hesitated, glancing over at his phone as he reached out for it. He let the phone ring until the call naturally ended, watching the notification of a missed phone call from Claire. His cock throbbed angrily at its neglect, one hand fisting tightly around the blanket.
Leon laid back on his bed, the faint moonlight filtering in through the half-open blinds. His mind drifted to the thought of you, just for long enough that he could physically feel the leak of precum coating his underwear. He dragged a hand along his face, trying to wipe the thoughts away.
It didn’t really make sense. You were annoying. A sassy fucking brat who spoke back on every little thing he said, constantly pushed his buttons. But the longer he thought about it, the more he pictured you, like a flashing red light of warning that only made the straining erection in his pants worse.
As if summoned by his thoughts, Leon's hand drifted down to palm his growing erection straining against his sweatpants. He groaned breathlessly, eyebrows furrowed slightly. Shielding his eyes with one muscular forearm, Leon slipped his hand into his sweatpants and wrapped it around his cock. A shudder of warmth rippled through his body at the contact, his breath catching in his throat as he began to stroke himself with slow deliberate pumps.
He tried to block out the memory of you from his mind, but almost like it was on cue, a flash of you bending over popped up. His thumb pressed against the weeping head, dragging along the slit before sliding down to squeeze at the base. “Oh ffuckk.” He breathed shakily, and for a moment he could feel the warmth of you around him, could nearly hear the soft, breathless whines that left your mouth.
With a low exhale, he removed his arm from his face, dragging his pants down until the weight of him slapped up against his stomach. He moved his other hand, wrapping his fingers back around the girth base, the pinkish head flushed and leaking. His calloused palm glided up the thick length, circling around the swollen crown before sinking back down.
His climax approached swiftly, muscles tensing and stomach clenching as his hand worked over his cock. He breathed out laboredly, head pressing against the pillow under him as he mumbled out your name. At the last possible second, his hips jerked up into the tight fist of his hand, cock twitching and pulsing as thick ropes of semen erupted from the tip. Jet after jet of his cum splattered against his hand and stomach, painting himself with his own release.
For a long moment, Leon could only lie there gasping for breath, his heart pounding against his ribs as the lingering echoes of his climax slowly faded. The night was dark, the only sound the distant wail of a siren echoing through the quiet city streets outside. He sighed heavily, eyes fluttering closed as his cock slowly softened.
“I’m so screwed.”
-present time-
The rain had softened to a steady hiss against the car, the two of you both actively avoiding each other despite being within three feet of one another. Leon kept his hands on the wheel, jaw set as he was trying very, very hard not to think about how irritated he was.
You hadn’t spoken since the argument.
He hadn’t either.
Then you shifted in your seat, clearing your throat as you looked at him. “Are you mad?”
Leon’s eyelid twitched. Just barely. “I’m not mad.”
“You look mad.”
“I’m not.”
“You sound mad.”
“I’m not.”
You stared at his side profile, leaning forward to try to force him to look at you but his gaze remained steady on the road. “Did I embarrass you back there?”
“Rookie.”
“What?”
“Just say what you need to say.”
You perked up slightly, leaning back against the seats. “So, earlier, when you said I was being reckless—”
“You were.”
“—I wasn’t.”
Leon’s head turned so slowly it was almost mechanical. “You ran into a room without checking your corners.”
“But you were beside me, couldn’t you do it too?”
He stared at you. Actually stared. Like he was trying to decide if you were joking. He pressed his tongue along the inside of his cheek, turning back to stare at the road.
“Leon.”
He ignored you.
“Leon?”
Still silent.
“Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment? Aren’t you a little ol—”
“Rookie.”
“Yeah?”
“Stop. Talking.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, scoffing to yourself before looking out the window. The car fell silent again. Leon’s grip on the steering wheel had gone from tense to white‑knuckled, his jaw locked so tight it looked painful. You could practically feel the irritation radiating off him. You shifted again, just enough to make the leather seat creak.
“So,” you said, keeping your eyes on the scenery around you, “you’re definitely still mad.”
That was it.
Leon’s hand shot out, turning the car sharply towards the side of the road. Tires hissed against the wet pavement, his hand quickly turning the engine off which idled and hissed to sleep. He didn’t speak for a moment. He just sat there, deep breathing like he was trying to keep himself calm.
Then he turned to you.
Slowly.
“Sweetheart,” he said, voice low and tight, “I am trying, really trying, to keep my composure. But you are making it extremely difficult.”
You blinked once, pointing to yourself. “Me?”
“Yes. You.” He ran a hand through his hair, unbuckling his seatbelt to physically turn and face you. “You don’t listen,” he started listing things out on one hand, fingers extending at every annoying thing you’ve done for the past two months. “You argue with everything I say. You run into danger like you’re invincible. And then you sit here and poke at me like it’s a game.”
You opened your mouth, but he held up a hand.
“No. No. This is where you stay quiet and listen.”
Your mouth zipped shut. You swallowed, suddenly very aware of how seriously angry he was.
“You do realize, I’m responsible for you,” he asked, waiting for you to silently nod your head to make sure you were actually listening. “I cannot do my job if you won’t let me.”
The car went silent again, but it wasn’t the same silence as before. It was this heavy, tense kind of tension. You stared at him, blinking slowly as you shifted in your seat trying to relearn how to breathe.
Despite the harshness of his words, you couldn't ignore the way your body reacted to his stern lecture. A thrill raced through you, settling low in your belly as you met his heated gaze. The furious set of his jaw, the intensity burning in his eyes—it sent a secret, shameful pulse of arousal through you. You knew it was wrong, but the way he was looking at you, speaking to you with such authority... it was incredibly exciting.
“I’m sorry.” You mumbled softly to which he let out a curt chuckle.
“Oh, you’re ’sorry’?” He tilted his head at you, watching the way you immediately just nodded your head at his echo. He looked at you for a moment longer, taking in the way your face darkened in embarrassment and the slight downturn of your lips into the pout he knew all too well. Realizing he might’ve overreacted, he quickly looked away, arm resting against the center console as he scratched the side of his jaw.
He couldn't shake the lingering ghost of his dream, the feel of you against him still etched into his skin. “Leon?” You spoke hesitantly, gently tapping him by his elbow to check on him. His head turned to look at you again, but the more he looked at you, the more he thought of that fucking dream.
And then he an insistent, throbbing ache deep in his groin. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, shaking his head slightly to try to ignore the pulsing heat building between his legs, but you took it as a silent shut down. You anxiously sat there, oblivious to his internal struggles.
He couldn't focus, couldn't think straight. All he could do was let the silence trudge onward, as he battling the temptation clawing at his insides. He finally looked at you, eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of your chest heaving up and down. With a low, muttered “fuck it.” he surged forward, one calloused hand cupping your jaw as he captured your mouth in an intense kiss.
You gasped, eyes flying wide open as you jerked back in shock. The two of you looked at one another in tense silence, and almost like he realized the severity of his actions he slowly pulled back. Before he could open his mouth to explain himself, you quickly reached out for his upper arm to pull him into another kiss. Your lips parted instinctively to welcome the warmth of his tongue.
Your hands fisted in his hair, arching into his chest as your lips moved eagerly against his. The kiss deepened, growing more urgent, until Leon's hands slid to your waist, ensuring you were unbuckled before yanking you out of your seat. In a single, swift motion, he pulled you onto his lap, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you tight against him.
His other hand searched around for the lever to push his seat back a few inches, before sliding up to rest against your ass. His lips left yours, leaving you huffing for air as his mouth trailed down to your neck, nipping at your pulse point. Your head lolled to the side, warmth running through your body like a furnace.
His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your ass, kneading and squeezing as he pushed your hips forward. You could feel the hard outline of his erection against your thigh, sending a sharp throb straight to your cunt. He pulled away from your neck, hands traveling around your hips before sliding down to wrap around your thighs to force you to sit up. “Do you want me to—to take off—”
“Yeah.” He breathed out heavily, watching you with heavy lidded eyes as you nervously fumbled with the buttons of your pants. His hands lingered over yours to make sure you didn’t need help before sitting back as you wriggled out of them. He could’ve gotten a heart attack at the sight of your lacy, see-through underwear, damp path spreading in the middle.
You quickly undid his zipper, shifting back as he lifted his hips up and tugged his pants down until they pooled awkwardly around his knees. Three fingers dipped under his boxers to free his cock, the crown leaking a tear of precum. His hand disappeared somewhere by the seat, forcing the chair back to give him extra leg room.
You stared down at the sight of his length, not even attempting to blink in case this was the best fucking wet dream ever. “Can I take these off?” You glanced down at his hands as they hovered by your panties, immediately nodding. He carefully slipped the fabric down, down until they were free from your legs, jaw going slack at the sight of your dripping slit. “Holy shit.”
His large hands gripped your ass, fingers sinking into the pliant flesh as he guided your movements, pulling you down to meet his cock. The two of you gasped in unison, back arching at the contact as he slowly rolled your hips against his, watching the way his cock nestled in between your lips. “L-leon.” You whined lightly, his cock immediately throbbing at the sound of your voice, another glob of pre leaking out to rub against you.
Leon’s eyes stuck on your face, eyes dilated and breath labored as he struggled to speak. “I know, I know, just gimme a sec.” He strained out in between a rumbling groan as the head of his cock caught at your entrance. He continued to guide you against him, grinding up against you little by little until the tip of his cock started inching against your hole.
You clenched around the intrusion, sucking a strained gasp from his mouth. His hands tightened around your hips, one heavy palm rubbing against your ass before giving it a quick plap. “Relax a little for me, baby.” He squeezed a handful of ass, one hand moving to wrap around his cock the same way he did the other day, except this time he was nudging his length inch by inch inside you.
You tried to ease up a bit, but it was like your pussy was trying to suck him in one go, walls clenching tight around the head of his cock. “Fuck. Keep gripping like that and I’ll cum before I even get all the way in.” Leon grunted, pulling out just to bring his hand down against your cunt in a warning smack. You flinched at the temporary pain, a surprised moan slipping from your lips as he took the opportunity to slide his cock into your slick heat.
His large hands gripping your hips as he guided you to straddle him, thighs pressing against thighs. Your pussy fluttered around his length, taking a second to get used to the sheer thickness of him. Your slick arousal dripping down onto his thighs, pussy stretched obscenely around him.
“Oh god.” You muttered to yourself, attempting to roll your hips forward only to be met with the nudge of his cock against your g-spot.
“It’s okay, I got you.” He reassured softly, fingers rubbing against your skin as he experimentally jerked his hips up, studying the way your face twisted up into a whiny moan.
You started to move, lifting yourself up until just the swollen head remained nestled inside your entrance. Then, with a roll of your hips, you sank back down, taking every throbbing inch of his hard length deep inside your soaked, clinging heat. His eyes followed your movements, one hand sliding up to wrap around your arm to tug you against his check. You gasped against his shoulder, the sound sending straight to his cock as his hips bucked up subtly.
Your movements started to grow desperate, hips moving up and down to feel the drag of his cock against the spongy, sensitive spot. “Mm fuck fuck,” you grunted breathlessly, head leaning against his shoulder, tilting down to watch as your pussy sucked him.
“Doing s’good, keep going.” He praised, his hand firm around your arm to keep you arched against him. His other hand rested around your hip, lightly ghosting over your movements.
His words spurred you on, and you began to bounce on him in quick hops, your hips rolling down against his. His hand smoothed up along your back, running back down to give your ass another firm slap just to feel the way your pussy clenched around him. The slick sounds of your coupling filled the car, windows fogging and lewd slaps of flesh against flesh forcing the car to creak in time with the movements.
Leon thrust upwards to meet your downward pressure, hips smacking against yours with each bounce. His heavy-lidded gaze remained locked between your face and the fast bounces of your hips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, watching every flicker of pleasure.
His hand slid up to your bouncing breast in front of his face, cupping the soft swell before squeezing the tender mound, rolling the stiff peak between his fingers. He pinched and tugged on your nipple, forcing out another strained moan as his fingers curled around your throat. His grip tightened slowly, enough pressure to make your pulse pound against his palm, thumb pressed against your jaw as he guided your face towards him.
He pressed a slow kiss on your lips, cupping your jaw in one hand as he breathed heavily at the eager clench of your pussy. “You getting tired?” He asked against your lips, to which you quietly nodded, moaning as he snapped his hips up again. “Gotta get that stamina up, hm?”
“Keep going.” He said shortly, glancing down at the ring of cream leaking down his length. His hips continued their relentless rhythm, the thick head of his cock kissing your cervix with each buck.
He could feel your body trembling, could see the way your eyes fluttered shut as the pleasure became too intense. But he didn't let you slow down, hips snapping up to meet yours every time you’d slow down. You gasped heavily, back arching as a wave of warmth rippled through your spine. You shivered against him, falling limp against his chest with a broken moan as your climax crashed through you.
Your cunt clenched down around his length, soaking his cock with your release as your toes curled and you spasmed over him. Leon watched in rapture, mouth slightly open as he felt the liquid squirting against his legs. But he wasn’t done with you. He forced you to ride out the waves of your orgasm on his cock, your body jerking and shuddering above him as he thrusted his hips up.
Only when your climax subsided did he slow down his thrusts, breathing still ragged as he watched you come to. You rolled your hips slowly, one hand resting on his shoulder as he tilted his head up to stare at you more. You looked in between your legs, pulling your hips up until his cock slipped free, coated in your arousal. “You didn’t— did you come?”
His hands rested on your ass cheeks, giving you a slow grin as he shook his head. “No, but it’s o—”
“Let’s go to the back.” He looked at you in a split second of surprise, watching as you stumbled off his lap and crawled to the cushions of the seats behind him. He turned to watch you, cock jerking in his grip as he rushed up to follow you. He watched as you laid back against the seating, legs spread apart.
⋮ 🏎️ᝰ.ᐟ ┆ HYBRID AU : dragon!hybrid kirishima, bunny!hybrid izuku, wolf!hybrid bakugou, cat!hybrid shinso, white tiger!hybrid shoto (seperate) x f!afab!reader
ᯓ★ ༝ monster fucking, breeding, groping, dry humping, scaled dick (?), begging, oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, cumming in pants..?, talking about scents and stuff, dubcon, marathon sex, m!masturbation, implied somnophilia, dry humping, mating press, deepthroating, hair pulling, hand over the mouth..?, face fucking, kissing, biting.
⚡︎ ›› the MHA men are in heat!
🏁ּ ┆thank you guys so much for 400 followers i love you all - HYBRIDS FOR EVERYONE! also do not be fooled, it's still dom!character lol. this is also my first time writing for shoto and shinso so lmk what you think! unless you think it's trash then shh
Izuku Midoriya - Bunny!
Izuku certainly wasn't happy about his new appearance. Floppy gray ears, a libido the size of a damn wildfire. And the tail. God, he really hated the stupid tail. All white and bushy, poking out of his clothes, no matter how much he tried to keep it down.
Initially, this whole hybrid thing wasn't that bad. It was only the body changes, and his sudden insistence on eating carrots that really changed.
That was until he saw you clad in one of his t-shirts, eyes tired and hair messy as you made your way towards him. His nose twitches the closer you get, your scent suddenly overpowering even the breakfast on the stove.
You place a small kiss on his cheek, then his nose. Giving the small tail on his backside a gentle tug, to which he shoos your hand away. His eyes are trained on your back as you collapse onto the couch. Legs swaying comfortably in the air behind you. A burning heat rises through his body, teeth gritting at the sight of you on your phone. He's not sure why it bothers him so much that you're choosing to focus your attention on your stupid phone instead of being glued to his side in his time of need.
Thump.
Instinctively, he looks down at his foot. The limb moving like it had a mind of its own.
Thump. Thump.
Oh, no. He's already dealing with the tail, there was no way he was gonna accept thumping his foot like he's some kind of toddler who isn't getting enough attention.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
This time, it catches your attention. Your head shoots up from behind the couch, eyes locking on where Izuku is, very clearly, stepping on his own foot.
"Uh, everything alright?"
"Y-yep! No problems at all," he laughs, as you stare at him suspiciously. You have no time to question him when the fire alarm sounds, the breakfast forgotten on the stove now blowing smoke all over the room.
And if it wasn't for that, he's not sure he would've had the control to pull himself away from you.
It doesn't take him long to figure out what's wrong.
The restlessness, the sensitivity, the way his body reacts before he can even think.
Heat.
When he realizes it, he's both mortified and extremely embarrassed. Any interactions with you don't go unanalyzed; the emotions, the touches, the tension, are all raised tenfold.
Slowly, he starts avoiding you. Not because of you, obviously not. But because of what he wants to do to you. It's an intense, almost wild feeling that brews inside him every time he catches himself staring longer than he should.
Your scent is everywhere. On the couch. In his clothes. On the sleeves of the hoodie you keep stealing from him.
At some point, he realizes it's better just to do something about it. Ignoring it only makes it worse.
The next time he realizes it's a problem is when he finds you at your desk late at night.
The bright screen of the computer is the only source of light in the dark room, your shoulders hunched as you tap away at the keyboard.
Shortly after, you feel a presence in the room.
Your boyfriend is pacing the floor behind you, restless in a way you haven't seen before. Occasionally, he'll come up real close to you, green hair tickling the back of your neck. You have no time to dwell on it before he's moving again, pacing the room like he's scared of what might happen if he lets himself stop.
"Izuku?"
The call of his name stops him in his tracks. "Mhm?"
"Why're you smelling my neck?"
"…I'm honestly not sure."
You turn the chair around, laughing at his sheepish expression. You plant a small kiss on his face, then two, then three. Until your lips collide with each other so passionately that it's hard to pull away. Reluctantly, you do. Turning back around in your chair and focusing on the device in front of you.
Thump. Thump.
And there it is, that familiar sound that Izuku knows all too well. And now he knows exactly why.
Leaving you out of it didn't feel possible anymore.
And he didn't want to.
He slinks down to his knees, hard enough that you're convinced it leaves a bruise. Spinning the chair, so you're facing him, and lifting your legs over his shoulders
"Z-zuku? What are you-"
"'M really sorry to bother you with this," he starts cutting himself off by placing a small lick on your clit. "Need you. Really bad," he mumbles, warm breath fanning over your heat. He licks slowly, his tongue trailing from your hole up to your clit. Your fingers bury themselves in his hair, hips grinding slightly against the feeling of his tongue.
"B-bother me with what Izuku -fuck- w-what's going on?"
He ignores you at first, his tongue preoccupied with burying itself in your folds. His nose nudges your clit with each movement, like he's trying to drown himself between your thighs. The fur of his ears brushes against your stomach every time he presses his face in deeper.
"Think I'm in heat, been so h-hard these last few days just looking at you, didn't want to bother you," he says, it's rushed, but you hear it. You can only moan in response when his mouth is back on your clit, biting and sucking the swollen nub. He's acting like your body might disappear if he doesn't have his mouth on it.
"Mmm - fuck - Izuku. W-why didn't you t-tell- ah, fuck right there," you whine, hips rolling onto his tongue. His thumb finds your clit, as he makes small circles on the nub.
"You gonna cum?" he asks, green eyes flicking up to yours, mouth glistening as he speaks. You nod your head, lip moving between your teeth as you cum, and your hips stuttering against his mouth. He groans into your heat, lapping at your juices like he's scared he'll miss a drop. You have to tug at his hair to get him off you, body doubling over from overstimulation.
Reluctantly, he pulls off. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before licking it off his fingers. Your eyes lock on the dark spot between his legs, sticky white substance dripping down his thighs onto the floor.
His eyes follow your gaze, his hands already moving to squeeze his cock, trying to suppress the growing sensation between his legs.
"Finally gonna let me help you?"
Katsuki Bakugou - Wolf!
Katsuki was embarrassed; that much was clear. Having fluffy ears and a bushy tail was definitely not his style. He was hit with this hybrid quirk almost 2 weeks ago; the effects of it have been more of a mental challenge for him than a physical one.
When he walks through the door with his new ... additions, you can't help the small laugh that tumbles from your lips before you clasp a hand over his mouth. But he hears it.
"You laughing at me?"
"No, no. Of course not," you lie, rolling your eyes as you move closer to him. "I think you look really cute like this," you smile, a hand already making its way to mess with the tail on his back.
"Yeah, yeah. Don't call me that," he huffs, but his tail betrays him. It flicks once, then twice, swinging so hard it knocks over the lamp on the coffee table.
He doesn't let you get another word in as he walks away, hiding the light shades of pink that dare to spread on his cheeks. His pride screams at him to act normal, but you've always been his one weakness, and he knows you see right through the act. A warmth floods through his body as he replays the moment in his head. The softness of your gaze, your face mere inches from his. And obviously, the compliment didn't hurt either.
"Don't be embarrassed, Kats. It's fine," you giggle, making your way towards his spot on the couch. Even though his body doesn't move, his tail certainly does. Curling towards you despite himself, and brushing against your wrists.
Your legs move to straddle his hips, pulling his pants down just enough to reveal his boxers. If he didn't want to talk, that was fine - you'd just find other ways to help him out.
Your lips collide, teeth clashing with every press. His tongue trails along your bottom lip before shoving its way into your mouth. His grip on you tightens as your hips move, the feeling of you grinding against him sending him into a spiral.
Maybe a little too far.
His thighs flex underneath you as he moans against your lips, the warmth spreading against your clit making your heart flutter.
"Katsuki ... did you cum?"
"… So what if I did?" he snarls. Katsuki prided himself on being a gentleman; it was practically sacred that he'd never cum before a woman. Especially his women. But with the additions to his body, overwhelming need to breed you, and the sight of you sitting so pretty in front of him, all control's gone out the window.
He clenches his jaw, planning his next actions. Sure, he hates that you're seeing him like this, and if he gave it the opportunity, he's sure his tail would be between his legs. But for some reason, there's a darker heat that dares to rise to his surface, a feralness that can't be ignored. Katsuki is a prideful man. He doesn't let embarrassment stop him from taking over, even if it means marking you in the process.
"You tryna' tell me something? Gonna need t-to use your words."
Asshole.
Saying all that to shit to you when he knows damn well his hand is acting as a makeshift muzzle over your mouth. The smell of burnt caramel and musk infiltrates your senses. His thrusts are rough against your hips, each movement sending your face deeper into his hands. The muffled your moans and his hips hitting yours, bouncing off the walls.
Your ankles rest on his shoulders, chest bouncing every time his hips clash with yours. His hips drive into you with so much force your convinced the bed might snap in half.
"Mmm -fuck- taking it so well," he huffs, head dropping down as blonde strands graze your forehead. His eyes are shut tightly, his bottom lip trapped between his canines. Small dots of crimson form where they dig into the flesh.
With some of the strength you can muster, you move his hand off your mouth. Placing it so it holds the side of your face. It's delicate, the complete opposite of the way his hips piston inside you.
"'Suki f-fuck" you whine, hole tightening around his length to the point where he's not sure he could move even if he wanted to. After a few more thrusts, you feel the coil inside you snap. All composure disappearing as tears flow down the apples of your cheek. Your arms instinctively reach to wrap around him, fingers tangling in the hair on the nape of his neck.
He follows suit shortly after, white streams of cum covering the base of his cock. His body collapses onto yours, face resting in the crook of your neck as he litters small kisses onto your shoulder. A silent reassurance that he wasn't going anywhere.
Your body's exhausted, muscles spent, and legs sore from the positions he's had you in the past two hours. Your eyes feel heavy, your body finally succumbs to the intense desire of sleep.
Until you feel his lips move against yours, shallow and slow, but enough to notice.
"Katsuki, 'm tired," you whine, although you're not sure if it's from exhaustion or the feeling of his cock moving inside you all over again.
"I know, 's okay, I got you. Just relax"
A silent promise that he had no intention of letting you go just yet.
Eijiro Kirishima - Dragon!
Kirishima has been running warmer these days. Much warmer.
Perhaps that's also one of the side effects of having leathery wings, a pointed tail and large horns on the top of his head. A dragon hybrid. That's who you were stuck housing in your tiny apartment that barely allowed space for a single chair, let alone him.
The redhead was big, in many ways. His presence already made any room feel incredibly smaller whenever he moved around. Now, with his new additions, you're convinced you'll suffocate before making it out of there alive. Especially now, during this 'heat cycle', where his sex drive is higher than it's ever been.
He was definitely not afraid to ask for what he wanted, and you certainly weren't scared to give it to him. But he always felt like he needed to hold back, afraid of what might happen to him, to you, if he let himself go completely.
When this heat came along, you were ready to tend to him in any way he might need, wanting nothing more than to be able to help him through the storm he was trying to contain. And yet, when the first signs appeared, lips clashing in a heated kiss, you drop to your knees.
Utterly surprised when a clawed hand stops you.
".. What do you mean, no? You're hard," you say, hands moving to grab at his pants before his hands grab yours. Sharp claws poking at the skin on your wrist.
"Just slow down a second. I don't … look the same down there anymore," he laughs, hand coming up to scratch at his neck.
"Kiri, it's not like you lost your dick. … Right?" It's meant to be a joke, but you're not sure it actually is. It would be a very tragic loss for society.
You watch as he fumbles with the drawstring, grey sweats pooling at his ankles as his hands move to his boxers. But he didn't need to take those off for you to see it.
Small ridges run alongside his cock, a pointed tip and scales decorating the ligament.
He watches as your breath catches in your throat, eyes widened and mouth opening slightly at the sight. A heat rises to his cheeks as he quickly moves to cover himself up.
"See? This is why I didn't want to show you," he huffs, ignoring the way you rub a soothing hand along his arms, all the way up to his neck, giggling at the pout present on his face.
He's scared to fuck you. Scared of what might happen when he trails his cock on the inside of your gummy walls. Scared you might not be the only one who breaks.
But you feel guiltier that it doesn't scare you at all.
"Ah! K-kiri, be gentle," you huff, eyes squeezed shut at the unfamiliar sensation. His hands encompassing yours as he eases into you.
Scales. Everywhere. A pointed tip, deep ridges running the sides of his cock. Every inch he pushes steals the air from your lungs, the sensation unlike anything you've felt before.
"Sorry! 'M sorry, just -fuck- you feel so good, pretty," he moans. He takes a slow breath before moving again, the feeling of you wrapped around him is heightened with his new attributes. Sharp teeth attach to his bottom lip, as he ignores all the screams in his body that tell him to go faster, harder.
He bottoms out slowly, hips colliding with yours as his body is completely pressed against you. You squeeze around his length, as you take in the feeling, every ridge creating a feeling you've never felt before.
"More. Fuck, gimme more," he whines, head coming down to bite at your neck.
He's insatiable.
"Please? Tell me I can move, please? N-need to- to breed you," he huffs, open-mouthed kisses trailed along your neck as his hips move slowly against you. Each time his hips meet yours, it pushes him in deeper than the last time, his tip kissing his cervix with each thrust.
"Mmm, Kiri. F-Faster, please," you whine, arms wrapping around his shoulders. Your fingers trailing along the scales of the dragon wings that decorate his back, making him shudder inside you.
His hips stutter against you, his eyes trailing over yours in hesitation.
"You sure? Dunno if I can… can stop once I start," he mumbles, eyes already shut tight from the feeling of you wrapped around him. You give him a small nod and a reassuring kiss, hands brushing the hair out of his face before trailing down the sides of his horns.
He winces at the feeling, the sensitivity of them driving his hips faster. Rougher. Like he's been holding himself back longer than he should've been. His body's practically burning at the touch, every inch of him feeling like it's on fire.
"F-fuck, Kiri"
"Shh, I know. I know," he hums, lifting a hand to your face, then dragging it towards your womb. You throw your head back at the feeling, each scale suddenly more prominent as he pushes down on your stomach. "Feel me all the way in here? Huh?" he asks, tight-lipped smile tugging at his mouth as you writhe underneath him.
All you can manage out is cries or whines, hands flailing in search of something to keep you grounded. They settle on the horns.
"A-Ah, be gentle, baby. Their sensitive" he winces, tail moving around aimlessly at the feeling.
Hitoshi Shinso - Cat!
When Shinso first came home with the cat tail and matching ears, you thought it was a joke. Laughing in his face, thinking maybe it was some type of kinky role play. Until you gave them a sharp tug, and instead of it coming off, he hissed at you.
His tail flicked sharply behind him, a concerned look on his face as his purple eyes bored into yours, "Don't touch that," he snapped, voice tight as he walked away.
At first, he tried to act as if nothing had changed. As if the cat tail and matching ears were just accessories. But you could feel the shift in little ways. The way his ears twitched when you laughed, or how his tail would lift when you got too close. His body was practically begging for you while his mouth said otherwise.
"Shinso, are you sure?" you ask, breath heavy as you move off of him.
"Yeah, yeah. We just fucked, you really think I'm that horny?" he snorts, obviously offended by how little you think of him. You roll your eyes as your feet pad towards the bathroom, shower water running as you take off your clothes. Not that you had much on to begin with.
He tried his best to keep this whole heat thing under control. Using the spare moments when you weren't around to get himself off with anything of yours that he could find. He'd keep his face buried in your pillow, hips grinding against the sheets of the mattress as if it were his lifeline. Gentle moans of your name spilling from his soft lips.
"Hitoshi!" you yell, a pair of your lace panties balled in your hands. You march towards him, tossing the fabric onto his chest, completely ignoring the way his cock twitches against his stomach just from the sound of your voice.
"What did I do now?" he asks, eyes half lidded, a bored look plastered on his face.
"Why don't you tell me?" you ask, arms crossing over your chest. You'd just come out of the shower, water droplets trail down your body, forming a small pool at your feet.
He holds the fabric between two fingers, a white spot covering a majority of the lace.
Oops.
You don't let him respond before you grab his wrist, another pair of a similar style balled in his fists.
"And you took another pair? What the fuck, Hitoshi." you huff, body moving to snatch them out of his hands.
But he knew better than to let you have it; he already knew it wouldn't end well for him.
"Just missed you, is all," he says, guiding you onto his lap, towel long forgotten in a mound on the floor. Your bodies are perfectly aligned, even one small movement has you trembling in places you needed him most.
"Didn't you miss me?" he asks, large hands caressing the sides of your body. Of course, you missed him. Who wouldn't? Knowing your boyfriend was just on the other side of the wall, using things that reminded him of you instead of just using you yourself. And even though you're mad, the idea of him using your clothes to get off certainly isn't helping your case.
But doesn't mean he's forgiven just yet.
Your hips move along his length, your wetness coating the top of his cock. Your hands rest on his chest, occasionally tangling in his purple locks, fingers brushing the soft fur of his ears.
"Mmm, fuck. Y'really gonna do me like this, baby" he asks, hands cradling your hips as you rock against his length. Each movement heightened tenfold as a side effect of the heat pulsing through him.
All you can do is moan, eyes closing, and hips cramping at the feeling. But you never let your pace falter. Each time your hips move against him, it pulls something out of him, a raw, primal energy that you didn't notice before. Your head moves to his neck, planting small kisses on the fur of his ear, and laughing when his body shrinks away from you. You get too comfortable on top of him, your body lost in the feeling of his cock rubbing against your clit. Each movement sending spikes of pleasure straight through your body.
That is, until your bodies flipped over. Hands trapped underneath his, legs nudged open with his knee.
"Coulda sworn I was the one in heat, pretty," he says, biting on the shell of your ear. His lips hover over yours before he pulls away. He moves off the bed and leaves you there, legs spread and dumbfounded at whatever just happened.
"What-"
"You're still wet" he says, throwing the towel in your direction, snickering when it hits you in the face. You tug the material off of you, dripping in more ways than one.
"Shinso, you know you're not a real fucking cat, right?"
Shoto Todoroki - White Tiger!
Shoto was handling this whole hybrid thing pretty well, and honestly, if he didn’t have the white tail and small ears on the top of his head, you probably wouldn’t even be able to tell.
Probably. But you know him better than that.
And at first, things probably were working fine for him. Until his instincts forced him into a more… primal way of being.
Shoto started lingering, and not in the usual way. It felt like you were being watched, analyzed, like he was taking in your every movement and anticipating what to do next.
"..Sho? Shoto?" you ask, his eyes dazed over like he doesn't even realize you're talking to him. Your hands trail over his face, then through his hair, fingers skimming the white fur on his ears. "Something wrong?" you smile, giving his hair a nice ruffle before planting a kiss on his nose.
"…Nothing," he says, before he's walking away and shutting the bathroom door behind him. Leaving you no room to question it. And you wouldn't have, if you didn't see the bulge peeking through the crotch of his pants.
It kept happening for a while, his body just close enough to his not to touch. He'd trail behind you from room to room, never touching you, just close enough that you could feel him there. Even going as far as to watch you drink a glass of water, slurping on a cold drink, eyes shut as you savour the taste.
You look over at him, swallowing slowly under his watchful eyes.
"Shoto, do you need something?"
"…No," He says, already making his way to the bathroom.
And this time, you decide to follow him.
"Sho?"
"…Yes?"
"I can help you, you know."
After a beat of silence, the lock clicks. The door opens to reveal your boyfriend, clad in nothing but his underwear and the added effects of the quirk. His hands cup his groin, almost like he's embarrassed that he's even hard in the first place. You approach him slowly, bi-coloured eyes boring into yours as you get closer.
When you two end up face to face, you press a gentle kiss to the side of his face, trailing them down until they meet his lips. Slowly, you pepper kisses down to the waistband of his boxers, pulling at them slightly with your teeth.
"This okay?" you ask, hands pumping his length. He gives you a small nod, and that's all you need to get to work. You lick a long stripe from the base to his tip, the salty taste of precum simmering into your taste buds.
Your eyes are glued on his as you take him into your mouth, tears threatening to spill from your waterline. You splutter around his cock, throat and eyes burning as he reaches the back of your throat. You feel his fingers trail into your hair, tugging at the roots to guide your head along his cock. You moan as he moves your head along him, the vibrations sent straight through his body.
"F-fuck, 'm sorry. C-Can't help it," he whines, head hitting the glass behind him as he throws his head back. He brings a foot to rest on the toilet seat, the new stance allowing him to reach depths he hasn't discovered yet. He can barely look at you, feelings of shame and guilt clouding his mind.
But he can't help himself, and it makes him feel guilty. Tail moving on overdrive and his ears twitching as you bury himself on his cock.
"'M sorry, 'm sorry, 'm sorry…" he mutters, over and over again. As if the more he says it, the more he'll start to believe it's true. But in reality, he's addicted to this. To you. The feeling of your mouth wrapped so tightly around his cock, teeth grazing just enough that it hurts so fucking good. It's warm and wet.
His hips move faster as he nears his climax, holding you there for a few seconds before you splutter around his cock and tap on his thigh. When you pull away, your face covered in a mix of drool and tears, hair dishevelled and a soft, dazed smile. With the way he looks at you, you would've thought he just broke his favourite toy. Caressing your face with such gentleness, the moment the two of you just had wouldn't even seem real.
But of course, the aching in your throat says otherwise.
"Sorry, angel. J-just couldn't help myself, you look so pretty," he says, rubbing a thumb along your jawline. You smile before planting a small kiss on his hand, nuzzling into the hand that held you so gently. It's a kiss of reassurance more than anything, a silent promise that this is okay. And even though he's still hesitant, it's good enough for him. Good enough that some of the tension in his shoulder moves elsewhere throughout his body, all energy channelled into his cock.
But you're right where you want to be, aren't you?
do you guys think yuuji ever gets so into fucking you that the slam of his hips between your thighs forces you up the bed? and he’s so far gone, crazed, so unlike his usual sweet self that he growls and sneers down at you like it’s your fault that you’ve gone too far. one minute he’s cupping your face and kissing away streaks of pearlescent tears the next yuuji’s dragging you harshly by the hips back onto his cock, all teeth and tongue as he snarls.
“where d’ya think you’re goin’?”
the words come out frothy, gritty, punctuating the lewd plap, plap, plap of your sexes meeting wetly. his hips have a mind of their own, crashing into yours like harsh waves against a shoreline when stormy weather picks up. they don’t waver, not even when yuuji physically yanks you back down to the edge of the bed, forcing your thighs apart until you’re spread eagle and gushing into the sheets. he doesn’t stop even as you yelp in surprise or push at his chest to get the man to just let up. yuuji just meanly bullies the slick head of his cock deep into your creaming cunt, relishing in the way you lock and unlock around him as if you can’t decide how much of him to keep inside.
“don’t run from it, not when it’s yours.” yuuji pants into the linens beside your head because if he looks at you too soon, he’ll burst and flood your womb with claggy milky white… but then he gets lost in it again, the way you warmly wrap around him and despite the way your hips try to shy away from his rampant force, fuelled by adrenaline, your ankles link at the divot on his back — pulling him in, all alluring and intoxicating with your high pitched wails and sloppy cunt that streams a fresh wave of arousal, trickles into another high that yuuji might not even notice since his pace has you flying away from him again.
or maybe he does, he just can’t bring himself to stop making a home for you on his cock.
Synopsis. Four arms. Four eyes. Two mouths. Ryomen Sukuna has everything he needs and more: power, riches, enough concubines that he’s grown bored of such frivolities. That is, until you’re entering his royal estate as the newest addition—and he just didn’t expect such a puny little human to become…
His favorite.
Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!concubine!reader, Heian era!Sukuna, true form!Sukuna, DP, Sukuna’s second mouth, the Sukuna Estate, other concubines, schemes, sIight pIot, mostly just true form Kuna mmmmpfg, he’s the master, he’s BIG (like really big), four arms, two mouths, he’s FÉRAL, mouth-ríding, sort of face-sítting, p sIapping, oraI (f + brief m), DÚMBlFICATION, making it fit, tight squeezes, stretching, tummy buIges, cervíx smooches, sIight degradation, bréeding, mentions of heirs, MANHANDLlNG, tension, full nélsons, overstímulation, spítting, foIding, stopping you from running, making you CRY, rough s, he’s MEAN, creampíes, cúmpIay, muIti-tasking (iykyk), implied marathon, slight proposals, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 10.5k
A/N. Blame that split-second frame from the last episode not me…
“Of the eighty-two chambers, you are free to enter most.” Uraume’s words were smooth, steady, and not a second longer than necessary; just as their steps were down these winding hallways.
You’re hastening your strides to keep up.
“You may roam in the gardens and libraries. The main kitchen has its doors always open, the Eastern one is for specialty desserts and guests, and the Western one is for poisons…and guests.” They continue, “The dojo is forbidden to anyone but the master, and you are expected in the Buddha room every evening.”
They suddenly halt.
Boredly, “You do plan to stay alive, I believe?”
And you could barely breathe, “I-I believe so?”
You’re realizing that you’ve stopped at the end of a massive bridge connecting to a quieter wing of the estate—intricately carved, and accompanied by a slow river drifting underneath. Uraume’s hand falls to the edge of the lattice doors, “Good. Here we have the concubine quarters-” Looking at you seriously, “-where you shall reside.”
A shiver runs down your spine.
Truth be told, you hadn’t expected to get this far.
According to what the stories and legends claimed, a mere mortal like you would have been sniffed out—would have been sought after, would have your flesh torn to shreds the very second you stepped inside the Sukuna Estate. If not by the monster that inhabited it, then the Estate itself.
Some whispered that it was inhabited by cursed spirits - amongst something far, far worse - that both guarded and imprisoned. Whilst others whispered that the house itself was a cursed spirit in the form of this sprawling aristocratic estate—as vast as a palace. Even more whispered that whomever entered the house gained a taste for blood, and even most claimed that a house’s auspiciousness reflected that of its master’s.
For who else would inhabit such a place but Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses himself?
If the public whispered about the estate, they simply yelled about the sorcerer that inhabited it. Blood-curdling screams.
There was no avoiding the rumors that swirled around the special-grade; those who were unfortunate enough to cross his path painted a picture of a beast more than eight feet tall, with glowing blood-red eyes and horns that tore open the skies. Storms he could silence with a single wave of his hand. His powers were what made legends—never before had there been seen a sorcerer as strong as he, and it was likely that there never shall be again. Though that was not for a lack of trying, or talent, or assassinations.
Despite remaining living, he was depicted in temples and murals of hell. Four arms. Four eyes. Two mouths and countless tattoos. So imbued in his sorcery that it metamorphosed his physical body itself - Ryomen Sukuna was said to be something more than human, but something less than a person.
Look at him wrong and you might find yourself without sight. Without life.
Thus, not many dared to lay their eyes upon him—but they didn’t have to. He left a pathway of destruction and blood-soaked footprints wherever he went.
A kill count higher than several populations.
Wherever he went, it loomed the dark shadow of a hand across the land. Currently that hand was grasped tight around the city of Heian-kyō: the home of Ryomen Sukuna, it sat at the very center of the capital. Dubbed aptly by the citizens to be The Estate of the Dead. For no human that wandered inside, will ever wander out.
And yet, that’s exactly the chance you’d taken today.
You’d had enough.
You’d waltzed right up to those grand doors this evening, dwarfing everything and anything around it, and knocked. Dark mahogany panels. Gilded handles. Unlike most noble homes, the Sukuna Estate didn’t need to have guards stationed outside it—for who was mad enough to bother the King of Curses?
You, it seems.
And so the busy road froze around you; the residents paused mid-gossip, the merchants stopped haggling their prices, the carts and wheels creaked to a halt—the world itself held its breath as the doors to the estate had opened.
And a short, slender person stepped outside.
They were dressed in a dark monk’s robe draped over a white kimono, equally white hair dazzling - almost ethereally odd - underneath the sunlight. They closed the door behind themself, and looked at you intensely. “State your purpose.”
You struggled to remember why you were here in the first place, “I-It is my greatest honor to-”
“Hasten.”
“I only wished to-”
“Hasten-”
“A position.”
You weren’t sure who was more bewildered at the words that blurted out of you—you or the citizens around you. There were soft gasps that echoed into the air, peering even closer at the strange interaction. However, the attendant merely looked at you uncertainly, and you hurried to explain yourself. “I come seeking employment, my lord of the house.”
“I am but a mere servant.” They replied, raising one hand. “And we seek help no longer.”
As they attempted to turn back and go inside, you’re rushing. “Please-”
Brows furrowed, “I said we seek help no-”
“But I swear that I shall be the most loyal servant to the master…” Bowed slightly, a slight rush of relief goes through you as you notice they’ve turned back. Just barely, but it’s something. “-after yourself, of course.”
They huffed in slight amusement.
And your hands shook. Gripped onto the long length of your sleeves, you steadied them before you continued - just as you’d practiced. “I swear upon my soul that no assignment shall be too great, no concern too small. Please—please, I have scoured every street and alley for weeks now in search of employment, and you have been the only one kind enough to open your doors…Any job is enough for me- any. Just spare me the chance.” Hands twisted together into a plea, “I beg of you.”
They looked slightly taken aback, and you stepped closer to seize your chance.
“My body is the master’s, and I shall gladly undertake any task.” You gazed straight into their doe-like, brown eyes—“Any task.”
Their lips barely moved as they repeated, “Any?”
“Any.”
There was a ringing silence following your answer, and you knew that everyone in the once-bustling vicinity must have been staring at you. But that didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered but the way the white-haired attendant let their brows raise, they appraised you from head to toe.
Head to toe.
Head to toe.
It honestly seemed like forever before they finally sighed, “At ease.”
And you shot upwards from your painstaking bow with an awed breath.
Untold, the doors to the Sukuna Estate opened. They turned around, not meeting your eyes - nor that of anyone around you two - and gestured for you to follow them inside. Stepping inside as though they didn’t care whether you proceeded or not, the strange attendant uttered. “I expect you to use your body well to serve the master.” Just barely tilted to the side to take another look at you, “You have one night to please him.”
The sound of wrought iron echoed through the ancient city like thunder.
And you touched your sleeve once more - your best silk, but more specifically…the dagger you’d hidden beneath it.
You had one night to take down the King of Curses.
In no time, you’d been led around the massive estate by Uraume - they’d uttered their name to you between the meeting chamber and the second library - and your heart still thumps away at your throat as they now creeeeeeak—! open the quarters for the concubines. Blood bubbling in your veins. Blade cold against your skin.
There was a buzzing sort of excitement that seemed to extend from the weapon and onto you—only growing stronger as you’re pacing inside.
It wasn’t the small, structured sort of barrack that you might’ve expected - you weren’t sure the validity, but you’d already heard stories about how concubines were cramped together in certain royal palaces. Bunks on top of bunks. Bodies that remained undernourished and untouched.
However, what Uraume takes you through is a gilded hallway—nothing out-of-place from the rest of the palace. On one side was a line of separate rooms, at the end of the hallway the paneled doors opened to a garden. It had unlit lanterns on the high ceilings and intricate artifacts that seemingly sprouted from the gleaming wooden floors; the spotless corridor branched and divulged into several other rooms and hallways, weighed with nameplates, and you were shocked to realize that each concubine seemed to have their room - no matter how small their rank; there was a lingering of perfume in the air.
Fit for royals.
Your eyes bounce off of the walls, and Uraume watches your reaction closely. “I assume it is to your liking?”
“Yes-” You wouldn’t want to give off the wrong impression - especially not when a mere offense could mean death—“F-forgive me, it’s far more than to my liking, it’s…” Taking another awed look around, “-magnificent. I suppose I didn’t expect it to be so…”
“Beautiful?” Uraume seems to read your mind.
And you can only turn to them and nod.
They sagely nod, something knowing in their tone. “The master has an inclination to all that is beautiful and surprising.” Looking at you closely, “Particularly surprising.”
Uraume’s expression gives nothing away, and you attempt to do the same - the dagger glints coldly against your hand. A single movement and it could cut you. A single movement and it could be in your hands.
You don’t know how long they maintain eerie eye contact with you before the sound of footsteps makes you tear your eyes away—and where you’re perhaps expecting to see the monster, the inhuman, the master of this house himself—it’s another woman. Human, perhaps.
Donned in expensive silk that robes her figure, she tip-toes towards the two of you with a sheepish smile upon her painted face.
She bows, and you’re bowing back.
“Forgive my intrusion.” She says as she straightens once more, “It is seldom we meet a new girl. Perhaps this is forward, but am I right in presuming you are one of the new concubines?”
“O-oh, you are correct.” You’re surprised by her warm and welcoming demeanour - weren’t fights and jealousy typical of close concubine quarters? Wasn’t she supposed to scheme and plot against you just as you were doing against her- you suppose your master?
But she takes your hand and beams at you, “Then it is most wonderful to make your acquaintance. Ask me anything you would like.”
Your lips part - unsure what to say - but the white-haired attendant at your side beats you to it by announcing. “Dinner shall be served shortly.” They turn, about to make their exit before eyeing you closely. “Human.”
And you wondered whether they meant to call you human…or they meant that dinner was human.
Once those delicate doors slide shut, and Uraume’s footsteps disappear, you’re just then realizing that you were still holding onto the other woman’s hand. Mustering up some semblance of a smile, you’re asking her—“Could you tell me about…Ryomen Sukuna?”
.
.
.
“There’s a descendant of the esteemed Kamo clan here, as well—” One of the women chuckle, taking a deep drink of her sake - one of those expensive types that came in an intricate wooden box. She smacks her lips in satisfaction, “-but you just missed her.”
Your heart batters against your chest- you still had the dagger hidden up your sleeve. Setting down your water, you hope that none of the other concubines here can hear the waver in your voice- “I see. Is she perhaps attending the…?”
“Huh?” The woman looks at blearily for a few seconds. “Who? The master?”
You nod silently.
She exchanges a look with one of the other women-
Before bursting into rambunctious laughter.
And you’re sitting there confused as they clap one another on the shoulders, as they rattle the food-laden table—as they wipe mirthful tears from their eyes. Repeating the last sentence to one another and breaking out into peels of laughter once more. Surely, you hadn’t said anything too humorous…perhaps this was some unspoken rule of etiquette you’d missed?
It hadn’t been too long since you’d been somewhat- absorbed into the group of numerous concubines upon concubines that were housed in the Sukuna Estate. Many more than you’d initially predicted - the hallway you’d entered had been just one of many residential wings.
Right now, about half of them sat at a long table of which you couldn’t clearly see its end - both because of length and the sheer volume of food towering upon it. All sorts of soups and noodles. All sorts of breads and wines. All sorts of meats and charred vegetables. Desserts and colorfully-packaged sweets from around the world that you’d once believed that only the emperor himself would have been able to taste.
It would have been possible to dislike every food you’d ever known, and still find something here that made you wish to stay…if just for the food.
You could hear the other half of the women chattering and laughing away in another dining room connected to this one.
All in all, your proponent - a woman you’d learned was connected with the Fujiwara family - had told you everything about Sukuna as she introduced you to the other concubines. They took you in readily, to your surprise, and cooed and surrounded and showed you around. Speaking to you about how the estate was designed personally by Sukuna himself. How Uraume was his (human) cook. How he was a ruthless ruler, and the hallways were more often bloodied than not—but he didn’t lay a hand on them.
When they’d told you this, you’d assumed it was regarding his more…aggressive reputation on the battlefield. You didn’t think it meant-
“Our Kamo girl has travelled to Edo.” The woman from earlier - Abe, you remember her name being - continues as the others settle down. She whispers scandalously, “To visit her lover.”
You breathe in sharply, “The master permits you to take lovers?”
“It isn’t that he permits…” Fujiwara smiles warmly at you - not too far down the table. The other concubines nod as she continues, “It’s that he doesn’t pry—he has no time for human frivolities. After all, the master hasn’t called for one of the girls in…well, since we can remember. He’s a picky man. But nowadays, girls enter and leave the estate as they please, as they wish for employment. Most choose to join the house staff in time, for we aren’t bound, and the master seems to have no need for concubines these days.”
Surprise overtakes you, your hand grips tightly on your sleeve. But your objective…
Abe speaks up now, “Which is why it’d been quite the surprise to know he’d allowed in yet another.” She leans in with a conspiratorial smile, “Perhaps you’re the type to really get his loins going-”
“Abe—!” A few other women swat at her.
“I jest- I jest—” She winks at you, “In part. Would you prefer to lay with the master?”
Something twists at the bottom of your stomach, “I-if it must come to it, I wouldn’t mi-”
You’re cut off as they exclaim in scandal all around you.
Fujiwara shakes her head with a smile, then she looks at you. “No matter what it is, you shall be housed and fed here. You shall never go without despite the master’s…”
“Impotence?”
“…”
“I jest-”
“What’s more—” She pulls back her sleeves and gestures for a bowl of sake, “Given the state of affairs, I highly doubt that you would ever have to-”
Just then, there’s a tap at the sliding doors.
An announcement of Uraume’s title—before they’re cracking the entrance open just a fraction. That stark white hair of theirs flashes from the gap in the door, illuminated by both the dim yellow lighting and the curiosity leaking out of the dining room; eyes scanning the vast chamber before finally landing on you.
An utterance of your name.
All eyes snap to you.
“The master wishes for you to join him tonight.”
One by one, you could feel the jaws of the other women drop—as well as your own. Right alongside something at the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t quite describe.
As the silence stretches and expands to the other speechless dining chamber- Fujiwara lets out a pointed cough—and it’s all you need to jolt right back to your senses. Scrambling to stand up, you barely have the time to smooth down your kimono before following Uraume out of the room - throwing a cautionary glance over your shoulder.
Fujiwara smiles, slightly shocked.
Abe winks.
The sliding doors rattle closed, and the whirlwind of gossip that follows accompanies you even to the bridge.
Head ducked. Hands in sleeves. Uraume remains painfully silent as you’re following them down winding hallways and past chambers vast enough to be estates themselves; and though you’d been given a tour of the place beforehand, you can’t help but let your mind get just a little frazzled at the thought of what was to come after.
Of what was to come once they finally stopped.
And they do—after what feels like nights upon nights, the white-haired attendant stops before two sliding doors - nothing but sliding doors. Though you’d assumed that the King himself might have decked his personal chambers with several of his best guards, you’re realizing with a prickle of anticipation that he didn’t need them.
But that only made your job easier.
Invisible hands seem to pull the doors - panes decorated in artwork depicting archery - apart, and you’re entering a room that would have been too lavish for an emperor.
A massive rectangular-shaped room of which strange interconnected woodwork make up the flooring; windows towering from floor-to-ceiling, half-hidden by thick curtains of red velvet. They clung themselves onto a ceiling that was gilded, calligraphy rounding the high perimeter, and a chandelier-like composition of lanterns fashioned down from it. Reds and greens and blacks and golds, the most eye-catching painting colors of furniture within.
In the far end of the royal chamber was the futon.
And you would describe its incredible size and its golden threading, even the red, red blanket that covered it- you would…but your eyes were far more interested in who was occupying it.
Thighs spread. Two elbows resting on his knees.
All four eyes locked on you since the moment you step inside-
“Uraume.” His lips barely seem to move, though that hoarse baritone is hard to deny. It wasn’t as inhuman as you might have expected—it sounded human and yet, there was surely something malevolent in the way he made your thighs squeeze together with just a single word. “You are dismissed.”
You’re feeling Uraume bow deeply next to you, and in the blink of an eye they’re gone-
In another blink of an eye, Ryomen Sukuna has one large hand stuck out - index quirked at you, he beckons you to him once. Only once.
And you gulp as you walk to him.
This was your first time really seeing the King of Curses- fuck. He was wearing nothing but baggy white pants and a strange, carnal inkling about him. Engulfing you in it the second you’re locking eyes with him. The legends were right…somewhat.
Because Sukuna truly was larger than any mere mortal could ever be: with shoulders sculptured and broad enough that they’d put your best warriors to shame, with corded muscle around biceps the size of your head, with his pecs creating a bumpy road for his tattoos. He was about nine feet tall—perhaps even taller than the stories said. Far taller. Far stronger. Far more monstrous.
Abs consistently patterned his front, disrupted only by the presence of his second mouth - it slashes aaaaall the way across his navel, large n’ licking his cursed lips with a grin.
And those tattoos- oh, those tattoos.
They were the tattoos of a criminal - two looping around each of his four arms like shackles, and then a circle on all four deltoids.
You bite the inside of your cheek—you knew your mission. But fuck- you won’t deny that a part of you wanted him so bad.
Sukuna’s pink hair catches the lantern light as he leans back on two hands, meaty thighs manspreading before you. And in-between you swear you could see the thick, throbbing outlines of two-
“On your knees.” The King commands. Crimson eyes narrowing, “Should you so wish.”
And your knees are buckling almost instinctually- he raises a rose-pink brow as he watches your hands reach for your sleeve…before ultimately going against your orders to settle down before the foot of the bed where he was seated.
Embarrassment curdles in your chest as you’re crawlin’ yourself closer to him, and the sorcerer himself hums in approval once you’re leaning your cheek against his right thigh. Rubbing.
The muscles underneath twitch—and Sukuna’s swollen tips let out a spurt of precum that puddles right in front of your lips. That translucent dampness stretches across the fabric and wets your lips with its salty taste- you whine.
Right before he grasps the back of your sweaty scalp with one massive hand- and shoves your head down onto one clothed cock. Your mouth gaped wide and plopping! right on top of his mushroomy tip—an open kiss against where his sensitive slit was flared outwards.
He’s pulsating against your lips.
And you’re moaning with your eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of his entire tip being nearly fuckin’ big enough to envelop your entire maw-
“Do you understand now?” Sukuna’s tone rumbles from above - low and level in a way that speaks of such power. He doesn’t reveal anything more, however. “Do you understand that your puny human body cannot handle me?”
You’re looking up at him with furrowed brows, “I-I understand…”
“Do you understand that I may ruin you?”
“I understand.”
“Do you understand that you cannot take m-”
“I want you-” And almost as bewildering as the fact that you’ve interrupted him, is that Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t crush you with his cursed energy on the spot for interrupting him. “-my lord.”
But that seems to be his tipping point. For his large stomach mouth quirks upwards in what almost seems like a smile—
And Sukuna gruffs out, “Then kiss your King.”
And so you’re gripping onto the soft edge of the mattress and leaning yourself up into his kiss- not the one his face was so ready for—but one where you’re leaning in and pressing a chaste peck onto his second mouth.
Onto those monstrously large lips hungrily gaping at his stomach.
Onto that fucking hungry - starved - maw so deprived of any touch that he’s immediately slurpin’ the edge of his textured tongue outwards. Attempting to enter his incredible size between your own lips, Sukuna’s only managing to fit about an inch of his cursed tastebuds—swipin’ the insides of your heated cavern and making you gasp, before he’s searing his grip into your scalp and tugging you off-
“Naughty naughty.” He trundles. And yet there’s a glimmer of something different in his eyes that told you Ryomen Sukuna was almost…excited. He’s patting one side of him on the futon, “Come up here with me, insolent thing.”
In no time, you’re hauled onto the bed and straddling the infamous King.
Thighs struggling to squeeze around his toned core, cunt drooling your slick through your panties. As you’re inadvertently rubbing uuuup and down his ridged abs- it creates a snail trail of glistening sap that trickles all the way down to his pinkish-brown happy trail.
Sukuna titters once he leans his head down and takes in the mess - n’ then he’s gripping one side of your waist with a single hand.
Squeezing lightly, it doesn’t take even a mere fraction of his power to glide the exterior of your pussy down those unruly tufts of hair—dooooooown in a carnal scratch as he positions you directly on top of his second mouth.
His second mouth.
Now gaped wide open and fucking ravenous.
Immediately cracking apart from each other with a parched gasp- something deep and rumbling from his underbelly. It reminds you of a creature that’s been starved for eons—something that makes shivers run up your spine right from the in-betweens of your drippin’ wet cunt. Right as you’re feeling his oversized tongue press aside your ruined underwear and start to eeeeeease inside-
“Fuh-fuuuuck—” Dazed peripherals rolling to the back of your head - without even realizing it, you’re planting your feet onto the futon and bucking- whether more into Sukuna’s cursed mouth or away from it…you’re unsure.
But he’s making the decision for you. He’s cupping either side of your hips with two clawed hands, letting those pointed tips dig into your clammy flesh, “Easy-” Letting out a rumbling chuckle. “Easy there, woman.”
Gasping, you’re lurching-
“Easy.”
And it’s all he needs to steady you.
It’s all he needs to tighten his hold onto your squirmin’ body, until it’s like he’s attached onto you with adhesive. It doesn’t take much of him to move you ‘round and spread open those folds even further like a pretty flower—that massive tongue of his wastes no time before swirling around that first ring of muscle. Cutely clenching around him- fuck, he can’t wait.
Before slurping his muscle back and shoving it straight between your pussylips.
Through the popping pressure in your ear, “Because how’re you gonna take my cocks otherwise?”
And you really didn’t forget who you were dealing with, did you?
You really didn’t think that Ryomen Sukuna - the King of Curses - was going to go easy on you…did you?
Because without even waiting for your struggling walls to get used to the size, his enlarged tongue reels all the way backwards with a deafening slurp! Right until the curvaceous tip was ticklin’ at your entrance, before Sukuna’s thrusting all the way back in. Again.
Your toes curl. Your eyes dart instantly to the back of your head.
Sukuna himself cracks a smirk- before he’s then doing it again.
And again.
“Don’t think yer running from it.” A third hand ends up plastered atop your clammy scalp- dangerously gripping your head and puuuuuushing you down onto him.
As far as your tight hole would let him. Your thighs quiver, “B-but-” Bucking.
“Now now, brat—” Pushing you back down. “Ya get what you’re given.”
Again and again.
It doesn’t matter how many times you’re twisting on top of him because of the ruthless swabbin’ of his tastebuds inside. Honed at the very tip and zig-zagging around in a way that makes you viscerally shake on top of him—he’s slipping his velvety muscle inside and stirring it a few times to get a reeeeally good feel for your walls. For how much you’d stretch. “Because you shall fit- oh…” He seethes between clenched canines, nose scrunched at the very top. “You must- fit it. You must not run away.”
Another tough battering ram of his thick tongue - it’s almost adorable how your poor body is being jerked to and fro. He murmurs, “For who can possibly escape Ryomen Sukuna? Heh.”
His tongue seems to wind n’ stretch even deeper inside you after his own self-praise - you always have heard rumors about the King of Curses being particularly egotistical…though righteously.
And again and again—“P-please.” Sukuna’s second tongue fills you up in all sorts of ways you’ve never felt before - not with the texture or the size or the complete and utter need…Those ridged tastebuds of his were pushin’ into eeeeevery single nook and cranny he could reach - which was all of them. At least, as far back as your dewy walls were allowing him to go, “Such a size should be-”
“Necessary.” He’s cutting you off cleanly. “Besides…”
Sukuna raises a pink brow, leaning backwards on the mattress to watch his massive tongue indulge in and out. In and out. In and out.
Your puffy folds being pushed apart at a rapid pace, your gloss seeping everywhere as he tunnels inside—he’s letting out a low whistle of approval as his second mouth creates such a mess between your legs. Monstrous tongue jerking outwards and slapping the front of your cunt teasingly- it makes a fresh wave of your juices slather down your thighs.
And he smiles - already knowing that he’s going to clean this up later.
The King’s chest rumbles with satisfaction, “Heh- you should be aware, little human…that m’not even halfway inside yet.”
There were two things in that sentence that drove you utterly wild: the fact that he mentioned he was barely inside, and the fact that he said…yet. As though to prove the point he’d just sparked inside your muddled brain, Sukuna arches his hips off the bed and ruts-
Pistoning his tongue a mere inch deeper.
Even though - to you - it feels like he’d just struck his tongue against your very throat—“Wh-what you claiming…” Your thighs quake as he continues fucking you between them, “How much longer may you possibly have to go?”
“Oh…an inch, two, four….seven.” Sukuna tilts his head airily, “Tch- such tedious tasks are meant for humans. How about you count instead?”
You balk, “Pardon, master?”
“Count, little human.” And without a single warning, his fourth hand snakes underneath your flapping kimono- between those sopping pussylips and squeezing at your poor clit. “Your master orders you to count.”
And the only thing you can possibly do is let your eyes shutter at the pleasure, lips trembling as Sukuna’s second tongue finds its mazin’ way across your walls. As you’re struggling to get a single word out, however, at least the ruthless sorcerer slooooows his pace down to something more languid- making sure you feel every bump and vein.
Every quirk.
Every inch.
Until finally you’re throwing your head behind and vocalizing—after only a few sloppy strikes. “T-two…”
“Heh…interesting.” One of those gnarled hands clasped onto your sides reaches upwards n’ grabs onto your pretty face, smushin’ those cheeks together as he stares deeply into your eyes. Sukuna takes in your dazed peripherals, your spit-glossed lips - the way you looked completely and utterly gone on his tongue, and yet…still managed to answer his question.
Mere mortals never did manage to surprise him anymore. You, however…
Before even he knows what he’s doing, Ryomen Sukuna leans inwards and spits between your gaped maw. Rushing to then kiss you with his own lips - eyes widened, mouth hungry. He looks bewildered himself, as his cursed mouth continues rubbin’ your pussy raw—“It seems we have a feisty little human on our hands.” Three out of four hands groping at your sides and making you ride him-
You’re trembling.
“And yet, who told you to cease your counting?”
Thwack!
“Three—” You cry out. Expectedly, Sukuna was mean—that fourth n’ final hand of his plasters his knobbly fingertips against your sensitive nub. Spanking you hard enough to see stars.
But Sukuna only grins, “Incorrect.”
Yet another spank. Yet another brush of his cursed tongue inwards- and you swear that you’re starting to hear his second mouth start to snicker to himself. Was that even possible?
Were you even thinking? Were you even breathing?
It doesn’t take his keen eyes long to realize that he’s left you completely and utterly stupid on his tongue—just so luscious and lewd. Spreadin’ apart your puffy folds and funneling your insides with him, “Four- four—”
“Correct.” Just to tease you, those fingers of his leave another rude spank.
And Sukuna doesn’t bother letting you gather your bearings before he’s delving even deeper.
“F-five…” You’re trembling out as you feel the massaging texture of his tastebuds enter, they’re pokin’ into spots you hadn’t even realized you had - filling out your tight channel and leaving his shape molded straight into your cunt. “And is that…ngh- six?”
“That was seven.” He rumbles out in a smug tone.
Your jaw drops as you register the massive number - seven inches of his cursed tongue fucking your pussy. And yet it still doesn’t seem as though he’s planning to stop anytime soon…
Back arched, you’re keeping your hands on top of Sukuna’s broad shoulders. Nails digging into his deltoids. And with all the strength that you could muster, you’re attempting to riiiiiide your hips back down onto his—grinding in figure-eight motions.
Sukuna was already manhandling you down onto him - now it might just be your turn to control the cadence. To control how much of him went inside you.
“J-just fuck me already—” You’re pleading. Your jaw drops with a parched whimper, hips veering down harder and harder- “Ngh- that was eight. Nine. Just fuck me- all of me.”
Sukuna’s eyes widen in slight surprise- before he’s quickly catching himself and tightening the two hands at your waist. “Now now…easy there. Go too fast for a little human, and yer going to hurt yourself.”
“But I need it.” Lip jutting out in the cutest damn pout, “I need you inside me, Kuna.”
His breath catches, “Repeat what you just uttered.”
Back bending into the most delicious curve, pushing up against his sweaty pecs. You’re sobbing out as his stomach mouth gapes even wider n’ seemed to push in even more, more, moooore of his sultry inches—“N-nine and a half…? I need you inside-”
“Not that-” Smacking your clit once more. “-you insolent brat.” The tip of his tastebuds reach the very back of your pussy, and it’s a sensation you just can’t describe. “That…title. I command you to hah, repeat it.”
“Title?”
Thwack!
“Repeat it.”
And it’s taking everything and anything in you - in your utterly cockdrunken mind - to conjure up the faintest inkling about what Sukuna was talking about. To let your head throw back with a final primal cry—for the first time since he’d started fucking you with his stomach mouth, you’re finally feeling your ass cheeks seat down properly on top of his washboard abs.
And then you’re finding yourself in his strong arms, your moans muffled into his actual mouth. “T-ten.” Gasping through the constant drool n’ sounds of pleasure clogging up your throat, “That’s ten, Kuna—”
And there it was.
Theeeeeere it was - in more ways than one.
Ryomen Sukuna’s getting to hear that sultry nickname fall from your mouth once more - for some inexplicable reason leaving the tips of his ears feeling warm - and he’s getting to see you complete his command.
Ten entire inches of his cursed second tongue- lickin’ away every trace of sap at your inner thighs, before he’s pushing it all the way inwards. Inwards and inwards. The maw slashed across his stomach grins as he’s hitting the very back of your pussy-
And before you know it, the King is tugging you into his arms.
He kisses your mouth sloppily while his second tongue continues fucking you between your legs. Harder by the minute.
Sukuna grunts as he opens his mouth wiiiiide n’ slips his tongue between your jaw- “Suck on my tongue.” He’s echoing out in a hollow tone.
And you can do nothing but squeeze your glossy lips together—eagerly suckling on his tongue. You’re unsure whether it was from your lavish dinner prior or whether it’s just how hazy your brain is, but you’re finding him to taste almost…sweet.
And your eyes roll to the back of your head as you do so-
“Heh-” Sukuna manages to pant out between kisses, open-mouthed and hot. “Now both pairs of pretty lips are sucking on my tongue.”
And your jaw…drops- only for him to use the opportunity to kiss you even deeper.
Making you ride his stomach mouth whilst he kisses you stupid - his tongue probing inwards, inwards, inwards in looooong slick thrusts. Scrapin’ every orifice inside but especially bending around to hit your g-spot.
You’re sure your body jolts as you feel the sudden zaps of charged pleasure, setting your body positively alight. “I-I’m so close, master.” You pout, “I must- hah- cum.”
“Must, hm?” Sukuna mutters - almost to himself. “And am I to believe that my human deserves to cum? Am I to believe that she is ready to take both my cocks?”
Nodding fervently, “Y-yes—yes, please-”
“Am I to believe that she will have no trouble taking me down to the very womb?”
“Yes-”
Crimson eyes narrow, “I will not slow down, needy human. Am I to believe that-”
“Yes-” Just so gone on your impending high. So close.
And to your surprise, the King merely chuckles as you’re interrupting him - had this been anyone else, then they would have found themselves being made an example of. But you…you’re finding yourself jerked almost aggressively upwards as he bucks his hips, more to run the ridges of his cursed tastebuds along the interior of your walls. Harder. Faster.
You hurtle straight into your high at an incredible pace-
“If you had let your King finish…” It’s the last thing you’re hearing before the pleasure overtakes you - Sukuna’s rumbling tone. “-then perhaps you would have known my question was whether I’m to believe you shall give me an heir in my name.”
His question was going to be whether you’d give him an heir.
His question was going to be whether you’d give him an heir.
But you’re unable to articulate anything more than a few whimpers n’ grunts - because the waves of your orgasm that overtake you are enough to leave you numb. Enough to leave you babbling. Enough to leave you shaking on top of Sukuna’s toned body as he shovels his fat tongue in and out.
In and out. In and out.
The way his overlarge tongue curved was just perfect for hittin’ every spot, and you’re feeling him time out your peaks perfectly—knowing juuust when the surges of your dopamine were at their highest.
Just then, he’d slam! his flattened tastebuds onto the exact spot of your nerves. Fingers nothing but a dizzying blur between your legs as he rolls his thumb over your clit, “Gonna take my t-tongue-” Sukuna spits between honed canines, “Gonna take my cocks then- gonna take my seed.”
“Sh-shiiiiit—” You yowl, “It feels so good, Kuna-”
“That’s ‘master’ to you.” He scoffs, nose sliding down the column of your throat. Sukuna takes one more look at the way you’re swallowing him up - at the way you grind deeper to stuff his glistening muscle between your pussylips, and shivers. “Or…consider yourself lucky to be shown mercy this time, human. Say thank you.”
“Thank you, Kuna.”
“Tch-”
And with that said, it’s not long before you’re completely and utterly fucked through your orgasm by the mouth on his stomach—through every tiny shred n’ ounce of pleasure.
Once Sukuna feels your quiverin’ pussy finish, he’s pulling out of you with the most lecherous squelch! Letting your thighs drape limply around his waist for a few seconds- that’s as long as the King can manage before he’s sitting up on the futon and flipping the two of you around.
So that your back was against the mattress. So that your head was hitting the pillows.
Sukuna crawls his massive figure down the length of your body- four arms pinning back your slick-sheened legs as he pushes his head between them. He’s wasting no time before digging his larger-than-mortal nose between your sodden pussylips and giving your cunt a good liiiiiiiiick of his actual tongue - this time tasting you with his actual mouth.
“Shit—” You’re surging up from your comfortable position, sparks sizzling in your brain. “A-again, Kuna?”
“Your master never had his fill.”
And with that said, he’s lavishin’ your pussy with countless long licks and dribbles. Lips glued to your folds. Breathing through his nose. Sukuna darts his tongue out - thick, though definitely not to the extent of his stomach mouth’s - and zig-zags it across your entrance.
Easing his wet muscle inside—inside and inside. He’s scourin’ every inch of your walls as though to check every mark he’s made before. Just so tender.
The velvety inches of his tastebuds flickering in and out- five inches long, you’re realizing automatically. Far longer than a normal human’s.
And it just drives you insane.
The edges of his fangs nip either side of your entrance - Sukuna had already left you so raw with his cursed tongue prior, so now it’s only taking a few seconds before he’s getting you to spray your orgasmic juices all over his mouth once more—“K-Kuna, I’m close.”
He hums at the feeling of your trembling fingers weaving into his pink hair, “Close? Stupid brat, you’re already cumming.”
The wetness of your cunt spills down his chin.
And Sukuna’s dragging his tongue iiiiiiiiiiiin and out at a constant, sloppy pace to get you through your high. To elongate it. Curving the pointed tip of his tongue against your g-spot - he holds it there for a few seconds just to feel you shake n’ clench around him.
Before he’s breathing through his nostrils and starting to synchronize your peaks with the slashes of his tongue. “Mhmmmm—” He moans out sultry vibrations, they send shockwaves up your spine. “Yes- fuck, yes. I believe this pussy is ready for me.”
Raging through you hard and fast - he doesn’t have much time before your legs start to twitch cutely with overstimulation. Tears sheening down your face. Your jaw unfastened with the most sinful noises.
Sukuna’s prominent nose pushes up against your clit and you’re crying out—
Looking up at you with hungry, half-lidded eyes. “I believe this pussy is ready to be my queen.”
With the pins and needles of your last two orgasms still coursing through your body, it’s nothing but a blur to you as Sukuna hovers his large body over yours once more. And it’s as if one second you’re blinking up into his handsome face, and in the next—you’re finding him laid back against the mattress- and you laid back against him.
Your head rests against his collarbone. Your back was arched against his stomach mouth.
Your legs were dangling off somewhere around his lower half- until Sukuna reaches two of his powerful arms down to position you properly. First, he’s grabbing either side of your waist and aligning you with where his clothed erections were—then he’s spreading your legs wiiiiiiide open.
Finally, he’s cupping his clawed hands underneath your thighs and pulling them up, up, up, upwards—until they were stretched out almost beyond your ears. And Sukuna was just basking proudly in this rude full nelson that he’d manhandled you into.
Gruff laugh echoing by the side of your ear, “And now…” In the corner of your teary peripherals, you’re seeing his other two arms bend to your lower half. “-to check for myself whether this pussy can really follow orders…”
Your kimono was already an utter mess- and Sukuna doesn’t have to do much to have it bunched around your naked hips. Your cunt all glistening with slick n’ saliva from earlier—hissing at the heated air that’s hitting you. “Shit…I need you so badly, master.”
“Then I expect you to take every inch.” He replies ominously. Just then, his eager fingers drop to the hemline of his pants. “I expect you to take every drop-”
And he’s tugging.
Only for your jaw to fall—
Because Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just huge - you’d already expected as much, given his height and other physical prowess. But he was just staggering.
Just like the rest of him, there was double the number of appendages as there would be on a normal human. Two achingly-hard cocks stacked on top of each other. Inches upon inches. Despite your counting challenge earlier, you’re having trouble registering the sheer lengths that he could possibly be - ten…no….twelve? Perhaps even longer. Though you’re noticing that the upper one was just the slightest bit longer than the other.
Both just as girthy.
Round and reddened. The plump, puckered tips upon their ends throbbed with carnal desire- oozing out generous helpings of milky-white precum that dribble down the front of your cunt. It mixes with the mess already made before, and leaves your thighs sticky with need.
Heavy ballsack twitching underneath his second shaft. So many veins that you lose count.
“K-Kuna—” You’re whimpering as he starts to rub the shafts of his two cocks between your swollen pussylips. Pushin’ them apart and making space for his ruthless girths instead, “Want it inside, Kuna- hck! I really crave you inside me…”
“Oh, little human…” He coos from above. Larger face craning down next to yours, “Did you really believe that I was hesitating? That I was waiting for you?”
“I suppose…”
“Here’s where you are mistaken, my puny thing.” Sukuna trundles, and you don’t have to look behind to know that his sharp fangs were making an appearance. “I am no kindred man.”
A shiver runs down your spine.
And before you can open your mouth to ask what exactly he meant—his rounded tips press against your wettened crevice. Just the sweetest dual pecks, they’re letting out harsh slurps! as he starts to slip around your needy hole. “I wasn’t waiting for your body to get ready, as you so might have believed.”
“Th-then—?” You sob.
“I was waiting…” Your body bucks down into his, your hands reach up to grab at his pinkish locks and-
And your dagger slips out.
His voice grows excited. “I was waiting-” Both of you reach for it at the same time, Sukuna with his four arms and you with your two. Your heart stutters- your hand closes around the thick, metallic hilt—“…for a distraction.”
Several things are happening at once: for one, Sukuna finally forgoes teasin’ at your readied hole to instead scour his cocks inside - fucking in with a long, hard thrust. Deeeeeeeply pressing against your cervix—it feels as though he’s splitting you sensually from the inside out, and you’ve never felt anything better.
And then you’re closing your fingers around the blade - tight - and aiming behind you to press the sharpened edge of it against his throat.
You knew you’d struck your target. Especially when you feel the dagger tremble as he chuckles- chuckles. The King of Curses has the audacity to chuckle.
When you have a weapon to his throat.
You’re unsure whether it was overconfidence or something else entirely- but his hips don’t falter for a single second as he rams his swabbin’ tips thoroughly inwards—thumping away at the back of your pussy. Your ears sizzle with the slamming impact of skin-on-skin, “And so?” He mutters to you, “For what reason do you stall? Do it.”
You grit your teeth, blade pressing against his sunkissed skin until a bead of crimson peppers out. “Do you believe that I am too cowardly to do so?”
“Forbid the thought.” Sukuna hums, “A King assassinated by his favorite concubine? How romantic. I merely implore you to hasten-”
“I shall—”
“So do it.”
“Do not regret-”
“Do it.”
In fact, he leans in even closer as though to help you.
He’s fucking you deep from the rounded orifice of your cunt, to the very depths of your womb. Pulse thundering inside - until it felt like he was taking over every single part of you—until your teeth were set on edge, and the thud-thud-thudding of his matching cocktips was all that you could think of.
Your hand trembles around the hilt.
Your lips wobble with emotion.
Your eyes lock deeply with Sukuna’s own hellishly crimson ones, and-
And the dagger falls gently onto the cotton futon.
Sukuna’s body ripples with a sensation that could’ve been anything from pleasure, to victory, to utter glee—but most of all, his tone just sounded awed.
“I knew there was something special about you, woman.”
And then you’re being crushed in Sukuna’s arms as far back as you would go - as high as your legs could reach above your head, as curvaceously as your spine could bend against his core. He’s manhandling you like nothing but a ragdoll above him—plastered to his muscular back, you’re at the mercy of his vicious thrust after thrust.
The stretch was just incredible.
The stretch was like nothing you’ve ever felt before.
Two thick, loooooooong shafts that were mazin’ between your sopping pussylips- the rounded edges of their cockheads manage to swerve your tight walls apart. Jostling against one another. Throbbing in synchronization inside you - ba-dump! Ba-dump! Ba-dump! Scraping his thumping veins inside and reaching aaaall across every nook, orifice, and cranny. Just so big.
Sukuna himself grunts out in pleasure as his cocks manage to press through the slight resistance you still maintained - his cursed tongue had stretched you out incredibly, and he’s groaning out in pleasure as his cocks manage to slide against one another and then against you- “And now- hah, and now I believe you remember what you promised me?”
“Promised?” Your lashes flutter open, “I-I’m afraid…”
“You promised me an heir.”
Your maw droops open. Your heart starts to race.
Your cunt’s drooling out your arousal at the prospect faster than you could register it- and Sukuna feels the sploshin’ leaks around his thickened bases. His grin stretches as he takes in your unspoken reaction, and before you know it—both sliding cocks are knocking at the door to your very womb-
“And I’m not Ryomen Sukuna if I don’t fuck one into you tonight, brat.”
Rough thrusts. Crushing you in his big, beefy arms.
Closer and closer. Tighter and tighter.
If you thought that you’d been treated like a ragdoll earlier- then you’d been lucky. Because now you’re pressed between his bulging biceps and his pecs, sweat covering both your bodies in a thin sheen as your movements grow more and more fervent—“Fuck a- hah, fuck my heir into you.” Sukuna was barely speaking by now - short, rasping bursts. “Fuck you so big and fuuuuuuuull.”
Running two hands down your front—“Master, I have doubts that it gets much more full than this.”
And he lets out what almost sounds like a guffaw, “It can.”
“Wh-what do you mean- oh.”
And all this time, you’d been damn thankful that Sukuna had chosen to stretch you out on his oversized tongue first—how else would you have fit him so easily? Softenin’ up the snug exterior of your channel. Mapping out your sweetest spots.
Because it just made it even easier to slip inside—it just made it sooooo much more convenient for his dual tips to probe open your wet cunt. Inching and easing.
But then you’re starting to feel a third intrusion.
Then you’re starting to feel his needy tongue once more.
You’re gasping-
The slightest, smallest ticklish sensation of…none other than his cursed mouth dragging down the inner sorts of your thighs. Just teasing. Just the roughened ridges of his tastebuds, long enough that he can snake them down and flatten them over that soft skin beside your cunt.
And in a matter of mere moments, Sukuna’s rugged hands settle deeper against your skin. Tight. Tough. He’s double-checking to make sure that your restless hips couldn’t skin away- before reeling his hips back and penetrating you in longer, harder ruts—each rude slammin’ of his cocks accompanied by the soothing laps of his cursed tongue.
“Y-yet again—?” You’re blabbering out stupidly. Tears falling in big, bulbous beads down either of your cheeks and ending up smeared, “Kuna-”
“Mhmmmm.” He hums out - and you could almost hear the smugness in it. The way his piercing canines make an appearance as he says, “It’s for your own good, brat.” One of his hands lifts off of your sweat-covered body - folded like a lawnchair - and Sukuna runs it down your middle.
He stops right above where both his swabbin’ cocks and his tongue had started to form a tiny bulge at your stomach—“S-sensitive-”
“Exactly.” He sounds so content with himself. So damn content.
Those handsome lips - both pairs of them - quirk further upwards as he’s massaging the front of your stomach—particularly over that one spot where you’re stuffed till you’re bloated. Pressing down-down-dooooown- “And how shall this puny human body handle carrying my heir, hm?” He growls as he accelerates his ruts, “How?”
Mouth sobbing open in answer.
You're gripping onto either side of his muscular body and swervin’ your hips in response- unsure whether you wanted to rut back down for more or just…
“Running away?” Sukuna's dangerous trundle sounds from behind you, and the clasp he has on your shuddering body only grows stronger. Before you know it, you’re being manhandled like nothing but his favorite toy and shoved right back onto his twin erections-
He continues, “If you can’t handle two of my cocks—” They’re emptying out at the bottom of your pussy with two distinct thuds! The top one first, and then the squeezin’ of the latter. “If you can’t even handle my tongue…the babies of my lineage tend to be large.”
Palm pressing down on your stomach.
“Does this pretty womb have enough space?”
And there’s nothing more for you to do but throw your head backwards and buck up into his awaiting arms. He’s only seeming to crush you even deeper against his toned body, “It does-”
“What was that?” One pink brow raises.
“I s-said it does—it does.” You’re blabbering away, thighs attempting to wrangle downwards so that you can steady yourself. But the only thing that’s succeeding in doing is making Sukuna tighten his restraint on you maddeningly - “I can fit even more of you- hngh, I can fit your…”
He grins- and this time it’s his second mouth that hisses demandingly at you. “Say it.”
“Heir in here…” And if this was any other time - if you’d been in any clearer of a state of mind - you wouldn’t have said such embarrassing words in your lifetime. And yet, here you were—bouncin’ down welcomingly into Sukuna’s largely gaped maw. “I want it, Kuna.”
“Heh?” He grins, “Then brace yourself.”
And it’s the only warning you’re getting - honestly, you’re surprised to realize that he’d given you any at all.
Because in the next few seconds- his cursed mouth goes from lappin’ away at the sweet, sweet juices coating the edges of your cunt—to slithering between those puffy pussylips of yours and attempting to devour your pussy whole again.
Two arms laced behind your clammy scalp. Two more arms reaching down to toy with your overstimulated pussy.
“O-oh gods-” Hiccuping through your tears as you start to feel the pleasurable burn of your pussylips stretchin’ once more.
Wider and wider.
Deeper and deeper.
In, in, and in—
Sukuna's second mouth tenderly whips apart your wet walls—with the most lecherous squeeeelch! he's then attempting to stroke his tongue inwards between the thrusts of his dual cocks. Sharp, stabbing thrusts. Just to fit inside.
Three- three of his sinful appendages attempting to stuff you all full - you're losing your mind already with his throbbing cocks, but now Sukuna's tongue was a different sort of texture altogether that was just leaving you on the verge of-
“You can cum.” The King sputters out against your temple, lips moving what seems like a mile a minute. “But you have to remember to reward me with a strong heir after, hm?” Tap-tapping at the tummy bulge he was fucking into you, “Hafta give me one with my powers. Hafta give me one that- hngh, I can train into the strongest. Hafta give me one with- haaaah…” He breathes out laboriously, “-that smile.”
Your eyes shoot open as you’re registering exactly what he’s uttered, “Kuna…fuck, it feels so good.”
“Please…” And it might just be the first time that you’ve witnessed the infamous Ryomen Sukuna utter a word of plea since you’ve met him. That chiselled cheek of his nuzzles down the side of your temple, “-call me your husband.”
Oh.
Oh.
You’re barely even given enough time to let the entire ordeal sink of having him inside you sink in- before the wooden panels beneath the futon creeeeeeak—! And Sukuna’s arching his hips fully off of the dampened mattress, entering his entire greedy lengths into your pussy.
Again and again.
Reeling back until it was only the plump, glossy tips kissin’ at your entrance - before drag-drag-dragging his pulsating length inwards. In-between he just barely manages to squeeze his textured tongue inside.
Repeating once. Twice. Thrice. So many times that you’ve lost count, and you’re barely in control of your own ministrations as a third hand stuffs between your pussylips and squeezes your neglected clit.
And then your overstimulation’s hitting you all at once. All at once.
And Sukuna realizes it before you do- when you’re shivering primally on top of him and cumming once more. Around his cocks. Around his mouth. It’s such a white-hot pleasure that bursts stars behind your eyelids, creating heat at the tips of your toes and then sending it searing through every vessel within you- your body shakes in his hold as the dopamine courses right through you.
His lips crack into a chuckle, and he’s cooing softly down at you as he ruts his hips even harder—fucking you through every peak. “Theeeeeere, there…” Something almost sweet- though you know better than to expect sweet from Ryomen Sukuna. “My poor human couldn’t handle it?”
“I-I can…” You’re arguing back- even though your answer sounds like nothing but a jumbled mess of syllables. The sheer force of the high that wracks through you is enough to make your head spin, thighs shake—fucked up, up, and up by his never-ending hips.
And he can only smile, “Is that so…? Then perhaps my fierce concubine won’t mind if I just—speed up a little bit.”
Even more?
Your mouth drops as you’re perhaps getting ready to beg for mercy- before even the choked-up syllables at your throat start getting fucked back down by his roverin’ tips.
Rubbing their flared ridges across every spot of your insides, dribblin’ out gooey precum into the smallest nooks and crannies. You’re feeling the sultry slickness of it puddling up deep inside you, and it’s almost enough to send you raging right into another high-
“K-Kuna—!” Your voice cracks.
“I know, heh.” He snickers, deep and hoarse. “I can feel this pussy begging even more f’me.” A few more vicious strokes and you’re feeling another faint arc of pleasure that you’re sure must be your nth high of the night.
Hard and fast.
Hitting through every one of your bundled nerves- but especially that g-spot he’d bruised by now. Two large circular marks in the exact shape and circumference of his bludgeoning tips - they were slapping at two separate times—one after the other. Ba-dump! Ba-dump!
Except…this time, Sukuna’s own thickened cocks twitch inside of you as you’re clenchin’ through your high-
“And don’t you worry, brat…” He growls from behind, “This time, your husband’s not too far behind—”
Your eyes flutter open in pure shock- and one of his hands reaches down to tilt your chin to look at him. “Shit-”
“Say it f’me.” Sukuna rasps, “Say it- call me your husband while I cum inside.”
And who were you to deny an order from the King himself?
The words are barely escaping your lips—“C-cum inside me, husband…”
Before the strongest sorcerer in history throws his head back and jerks his hips upwards- letting the pouring wads of his cum plug your pussy up twofold. What’s better than one of his cocks seeping deeply at your innards? Two of them…There are so many gooey wads of it trickling all deeeeep inside- splashin’ against the spongy layer of your cervix. Swashing down your tight channel.
You’re shuddering as you feel the delicious sensation of him sprayin’ inside you - a sheer volume that ends up frothin’ in-between your legs. A circle of white forms around both of Sukuna’s thick bases. “There we go-” He snarls. “There- there, we go…”
“Shit—it feels so, ngh…” You don’t even have the words. Your body quakes as his ridged tastebuds start tickling the outer parts of your pussy. Long, luscious licks - it’s enough to make you cum again.
“And this baby shall become my heir.” Sukuna whispers - mostly to himself than anything. He runs a hand down the sweat front of your body, left ever-so-slightly more inflated with his constantly-pumping cum. “This baby shall be taught to become the strongest. This baby shall be- hah, feared amongst the nation’s lands and beyond…” His fanged smile grows, “Known by my name, I shall teach this baby to protect its mother with their life.”
The fatness of his tongue dips between your swollen pussylips- lapping again and again. He’s torn between drinkin’ up and pushing back the pearly white beads of cum that kept on leaking from you.
And you’re merely draped limply over his front. Crushed to his powerful body.
“And this baby’s gonna become the most precious thing in this- hah, estate…” You feel him press a kiss to your temple, “-alongside you, of course, Your Majesty.”
“Majesty…?”
“The Queen of Curses.”
For who could’ve tamed the infamous Ryomen Sukuna?
In no time, he’s finally fucked himself into your pussy through his high- and it’s a tangled mess of limbs and moans as Sukuna attempts to pull out. Before realizing that his cocks were probed in too deeply, before realizing that that would mean letting his pool of cum spread out of your cunt.
Losing all his hard work.
And so he sniffs haughtily, reaching one pair of his hands up into the air and clicking-
In a split-second, you’re finding your back against the pillows. As if in a dream, you’re blinking up to stare into Sukuna’s handsome face—two hands braced upon either side of your head, both cocks still shovelled deeply inside of you. Throbbing. Did he just…did he just use his powers to change-
“Yes.” He answers your unspoken question- of perhaps it had been spoken, you’re too drunk on his cocks to realize whether or not you’d blabbered it out loud. “I call it…teleporting.”
“Th-that should be outlawed-” You’re gasping. The air around you felt tightened with what you assumed must be his cursed energy - you’d heard the stories about them. Who didn’t?
And he merely hums, “I am the law, woman.”
Without another word, one of his four hands snake between your legs- his cursed second mouth had finished up lappin’ at the coat of cum around your thighs. And he licks his lips and belches almost gluttonously once Sukuna reaches down to cup your pussy and—
“O-oh.” Something buzzes between your overstimulated legs.
Almost as soon as it’d started, it’s over- and Sukuna pulls his hand away—and then his rugged cocks. Letting out the most lecherous sluuuuurp! as he’s reeling his hips away, rounded tips funnel out from between your pussylips and leaving such a-
Wait…your eyes widen. There was no mess - whatever technique that Sukuna had collected between your legs stopped his cum from leaking out.
And the King of Curses wastes no time waiting for your surprise to register- not before letting out a deep snicker. He straightens his bulky body n’ edges himself closer—and before you know it, you’re suddenly finding your head straddled by Sukuna’s meaty thighs.
His dual, furiously-hot erections slapping their shafts down onto your readied face.
Both fanged mouths grin, “Now…open, human.”
And you just knew he was about to make you take both.
