Cal - They/Them - 22 ...Welcome to the hell-hole, Where I share whatever thots my last braincell has. Currently, it's fixated on Bucky Barnes. No explanation need you know what's up
Do you ever think love island bkg would end up in a really bad argument where his partner lets him know that what he did genuinely hurt her and she’s ignoring him for like a day or two and there’s high tension between everyone because it’s so out of the blue and everyone thinks they’re like THE couple but then he’s doing everything possible during those days to make up for his mistake and that’s when yearner bkg makes his appearance on tv
AFTER THE BEEF
cw: this is so nom nom nom to me. my biggest issue as a writer is i love grovelling and writing arguments but i never know what the arguments should be about that doesn’t make it DETRIMENTAL!!! but love island eeeekkk we can do a few things. this is written as a long drabble L
i’m thinking maybe in the newest season… the boys go off out the villa and bkg is chosen to go on a date with a new bombshell. what he doesn’t realise is the date is being live-streamed back to you and the girls in the villa.
you’ve been in your couple for maybe two weeks now, going great going strong and you like him more than you can explain. katsuki’s funny without meaning to, he can flirt in a way that makes your heart race, he’s so perspective to your needs and he’s incredibly attractive. one look at him and you’re already crawling into his lap. with how much you feel for him so quickly, you think he feels the same but really, this is where you find that all out.
you’re looking pretty in the evening, sitting in a bean bag surrounded by your girls. your bestie, momo is holding your hand, your other friend, mina is laying her head on your shoulder.
you can barely breathe watching the new bombshell sitting at the table waiting for your lover to appear.
“she looks like me. doesn’t she look like me?” you warble, clenching your toes in your heels, “he’s definitely going to like her!”
all the girls hum in disagreement, though you don’t miss a few comments.
“she does… oddly alike.”
“she doesn’t! her hair is so much shorter and i bet she won’t sound anything about you. katsuki worships the ground you walk on. you’ll be okay, girl.”
you feel like you’re going to be sick.
then you all watch as the bombshell girl grins, standing up with her arms out and your tall blonde man walks into shot. it’s so not normal to be watching your man not man but the man you share a bed with every night on a date with another woman. said woman with similar hair, skin tone and height.
“i hate this. i hate this.” you repeat, head in your hands.
you’ve been going well with katsuki, almost too well. the producers had to shake something up.
“hi!” the girl sings, “i’ve seen so much about you!”
katsuki looks amazing. mouth watering in fact, with his navy satin shirt and dark bottoms. he takes her smaller frame in a one armed hug, bicep bulging as she hugs around his neck.
“you have? i’m katsuki by the way.” screen katsuki says.
“i’m sakura! lovely meeting you.”
“he’s just being nice right? is he already flirting with her?” you ask around. you get comments of agreement but not without a couple disagreements.
“possibly. hold on!”
“i love how you’re holding yourself in here. how has it been?” sakura asks as they settle themselves in their seats. she’s chatty, bubbly, just like you are and katsuki’s always told you he loves how you can chat his ear off. this is all sorts of fucked.
bakugou leans back in his seat, a slight slouch in his posture and his arms crossed. he doesn’t look inviting but it all gives into the nonchalance of it all, especially paired with a slow grin and glowy eyes.
“thanks, i’ve been trying to keep my head screwed on. it’s crazy in here.” he replies, “though i’ve been enjoyin’ it more than i thought with yn. she’s a great girl.”
you scrunch your nose, “great girl? i’m a great girl? what the fuck does that mean? and it? does that mean me or the experience?”
“we know how much katsuki likes you. he can’t get his hands off you here.”
“but i’m not there now with him. i think i’ve been played,” you panic, “look how he’s staring at her.”
“you’ve been with her from the beginning, one of the longest couples,” sakura pushes and bakugou nods, a sense of pride coming from him. “do you think you’re gonna last to the end?”
bakugou nods sternly, “yeah. though she’s open to get to know new people. well… not that i’d want her to.”
that gets sakura smiling, a testing flirtatious smile, “are you? open to know new people?”
“technically yes. we aren’t in a proper relationship.”
as soon as on screen bakugou finishes his statement, your reaction is given to you by your girls. the villa is taken over by shocked gasps, low whispers and momo wrapping your arms around your shoulders.
“oh he shouldn’t have said that. he’s giving her an opening.”
“yeah… maybe he isn’t who we thought after all.”
“yn, sweetheart, are you okay?”
you wipe the silent tears from under your eyes, not caring if it messes up your make up. you continue watching the boy you have a major, too big for your body crush on, on a date with another woman. hearing her giggle, hearing him huff a laugh and you aren’t mentioned again.
“we’re so fucking done.”
in two hours, all the masculine energy is returned back to the villa with two new girls. sakura and another girl who went on a date with two of the boys. you turn away when you hear the shouts and screams of their return, desperately wanting to lock yourself in the bathroom or crawl into bed away from seeing katsuki’s face.
your heart is broken, torn to shreds. especially when sakura taps your arm to give you a hug and a greeting. she smells lovely, floral with a hint of honey.
“hey! i’m sakura!”
you take a shaky breath. you can’t be mad at her, she’s doing what she came to do, “hi, i’m yn. nice to meet you.”
“baby!”
your spine stiffens at the familiar husky growl, the way it feels like the ground is shaking when he steps closer to you. immediately, you grip momo’s arm.
“i’m not talking to him.”
“hah? yn? baby!” he calls, when momo drags you into one of the seating areas off the kitchen.
bakugou frowns till he focuses on the rest of the girls and he’s frozen.
“what the fuck just happened?”
“you happened, idiot. you were flirting on your date, talking about getting to know new people and mentioned her once!”
bakugou’s eyes widen, “you watched the date?”
kirishima pops up from the corner, “did you watch mine? how did it go?”
mina points to kirishima, “yours was great actually. katsuki, yours was awful.”
bakugou blinks back to what he can remember he said. “we aren’t in a relationship though? she can get to know other people if she wants, i said i wouldn’t want that to happen?”
“then you said you are too!”
“because factually i can! doesn’t mean i want to!”
“but you didn’t say that did you!”
bakugou throws his head back to the sky. shit, he’s fucked it, he’s so completely fucked it. he looks over to where you’re sitting with momo catching your glare for a split second before you shift your whole body away from him.
“for fucks sake.”
bakugou stomps over to where you’re sitting and it burns at how you cringe at his appearance. hours ago you were laying all over him, kissing his neck, holding his hand. now you’re looking at him like he’s gum on your heel.
“yn, let me talk to—,”
“no,” you interrupt, not even bothering to give him eye contact, “go away.”
you look gorgeous tonight. a glittery purple dress he’d love to run his hands down. you’ve got these cute metal butterfly clips in your hair too. he wants to ask about them, count how many you’ve got.
“they told me you saw the date, let me explain myself—,”
that’s when you make eye contact with katsuki. furrowed brows and a snarl behind your teeth. he looks like a puppy with his tail between his legs, scratching his head awkwardly, legs twitching to come closer.
“i said no. i don’t want to talk to you. you can try again tomorrow,” then you scoff under your breath, “or never.”
that gets bakugou’s back up. three weeks together and you’re throwing it away like that?
“you can’t be mad at me if you haven’t even let me say why i said what i said? i don’t want to get to know sakura, i want you! i always have!” he raises his voice, throws his hands in the air.
that’s when you realise, maybe you don’t know this man at all. sure you’ve spent weeks together in bed, cuddling, kissing. you’ve told him your deepest fears and your favourite cities and your biggest dreams. but shouting at you? he must have lost his damn mind.
“are you insane? fuck off katsuki. don’t ever shout at me.” you point your finger to the rest of the group, all staring over with wide eyes, “i said leave. don’t make me tell you again.”
momo beside you takes your hand, “please katsuki. just talk tomorrow.”
slowly bakugou backs up, a bow to his head, “sorry. i’m sorry.”
with that he turns away, ignoring the calls of his name from the rest of the guys and heads straight inside, up the stairs to the terrace to sit alone.
kirishima and mina join him after ten minutes while a few more girls join you on the sofa.
you successfully avoid bakugou for the rest of the night. sitting nowhere near him, letting your friends come to you and leaving the kitchen as soon as he steps in. you notice the pitiful gazes across the villa, the guys try to step in with “he’s a good guy, however he came across in the date it wasn’t as bad as it looked.”
that makes you roll your eyes because you saw the raw footage of the date. how can you ignore what you saw?
until it’s bed time and bakugou finds you about to brush your teeth in the bathroom. he whispers over to you, shirtless in his pyjama bottoms while your friends giggle amongst themselves about events earlier today.
“do you want me to sleep somewhere else?”
he looks at you through the mirror in your skimpy pyjama shorts and long sleeve top.
you give him half a second of attention, “do whatever you want.”
then you stick your toothbrush in your mouth, signifying the conversation is over.
bakugou rubs a palm over his face in exasperation, stomping out the bathroom.
when you step into the shared bedroom, you see katsuki under the covers in your shared bed. he looks over at you nervously, stretching his arms and following every step you make.
“hope it’s okay i stayed,” he says to you as you put your water bottle down, a few spot patches on your face and bonnet on your head.
you make an unimpressed hmpf to show you heard him before climbing into bed and turning away from him.
the silent treatment from you is painful. especially when he remembers how just last night, you were tucked under his arm, begging him for a kiss with your leg thrown over his hips.
you both don’t say a word until the lights turn off and he notices how you don’t even say goodnight to your friends around you. though he can tell you’re not asleep yet.
“i’m talkin’ to you tomorrow. first thing. don’t give up on me yet.”
(for viewers watching at home, the subtitles are up!)
you’re slipping through his fingers like sand. you don’t say anything to him but you do turn around to look at him, finding him already staring back. you’re dying to kiss and make up, have him like you did before. but the anger, the humiliation from watching him on that date burns inside you.
you turn back away from him in silence. in about ten minutes, you feel the bed dip on the other side and you look just in time to see bakugou leaving to sleep on the day beds. that’s when the floodgates break and you’re left sobbing in the bed.
in the morning when the lights pop on, bakugou isn’t beside you and all memories of yesterday flood back to you. you’re on bad terms with him right now, actually horrible ones. you need to talk to him, sakura too probably. but you’re still mad.
he barely spoke about you. he said he can still talk to other people, that you can. great girl? and “enjoying it more than i thought with yn.” what the hell is that supposed to mean?
“katsuki didn’t sleep beside you?” momo from across the room asks you.
you shove your sunglasses on your face.
“nope.” you pop the p.
“ahhh you’re still mad at him. he didn’t do anything!” shinsou from across the room moans and all the girls have your back, snapping at him quicker than you can.
that’s when bakugou appears, pushing open the door rubbing at his eye. his attractiveness disgusts you. messy bed head, sleep lines across his chest. in his tight underwear as he stomps over to your shared bed.
as soon as he gets in, you slide out, making your way to the bathroom.
“i didn’t think she’d still be mad. i really fucked it.” bakugou grunts, forearm over his eyes.
“start grovelling, kats,” mina says, walking past his bed.
and bakugou does start.
brings you your morning matcha when you’re doing your hair at the girls makeup table.
“‘ts got hazelnut syrup in.” he says to you and still you don’t look him in the eyes.
“thanks.”
then when you’re strapped in your new bikini, ass cheeks out, flip flops on and a silk scarf around your head. bakugou corners you as soon as you step outside.
“hey,” he scratches the back of his head, struggling to make eye contact. it humours you slightly to see him stumble over you. “you look beautiful. i made you breakfast.”
you scan him. navy knee length shorts on and a cap. he hooks his sunglasses on his shorts, a trend he started and a few of the boys have copied.
“cool. where is it?”
bakugou blinks at you, amazed that you actually are about to follow him.
“oh, uh yeah, around here.”
you follow him around to sit on the stool. “looks nice.” you say quietly and bakugou smiles.
you’re like fine china, if he does anything wrong you might break.
just when you’re about to eat, bakugou sits beside you and rubs his hands, “so about yesterday—,”
“can we talk when i’m finished eating?”
bakugou straightens his back, “oh shit, sorry. yeah we can.”
you both slide into silence. you munching while bakugou crosses his arms and looks to the distance.
“are you just gonna sit there? have you eaten?”
“i ate when i was making yours,” he curses under his breath, looks over at you, “i shoulda fuckin’ waited so i could eat with you.”
that makes you laugh, his first laugh from you in what feels like eons.
“silly move, kats. now it’s awkward with you watching me.”
he smiles slightly, just a little, “fine, i’m lookin’ away. thinkin’ about what i wanna say to you. take your time.”
and he does. he turns away from you, looking off in the distance with his head in his palm.
he wants to say how he missed your morning kiss, your late night make out. he missed talking about the four hours he had away from you yesterday and he wants to hear about what you got up to… well minus watching his date with the new bombshell. he’s all sorts of in trouble. he’s never missed anyone so much and has only been away from them for four hours.
when you finish eating, bakugou follows behind you to sit on one of the sofas in the corner. the same sofas he told you to fuck off from yesterday. he gets a few thumbs up from the guys across the villa, warning glares from your friends too. he can’t fuck up here. there’s no way.
you plop down in your seat, flinging one leg over the other and adjusting your sunglasses on your face. your posture is impeccable, face beautiful with an impenetrable energy.
bakugou takes a shaky breath.
“go on. explain yourself.”
“could… could you explain why you’re mad so i can explain myself from there?”
you look at him over your sunglasses, “are you serious? no katsuki.”
he sharpens his back, nods rapidly, “okay, okay. well fuck. so i’m sorry. hated seeing you upset ‘cause of me. it’s never my aim.” bakugou shakes his hands before you.
“sakura chose me for the date and it was fine. we’d be good friends but i don’t want to get to know her. i like you a whole lot, more than i can understand in such a short amount of time.”
you tilt your head, not letting yourself believe everything just yet. he can’t win so easily with you.
“you said that you can get to know other people and that i can too.”
bakugou nods, “yeah i did. sometimes i’m too literal. sakura wanted to get to know me, i know now that me sayin’ that makes her think she’s got an option with me. i don’t wanna get to know anybody. fuck, if i had to see you on a date with a man… i’d rather choke myself out.”
you hum as if you’d like that option.
“but to be clear, i only want you. since we have no labels, you can get to know anyone walkin’ through the door but i’d hate it.”
you look at your nails. he’s not doing bad. not bad at all.
“the comment about it’s better than you thought with me. did you think we wouldn’t last? you thought i’d be stupid? boring?” you push.
he shakes his head, “hah? i didn’t mean that like that. i meant being in the villa. thought i’d hate being bored and not workin’ and being away from my life. you’ve made this experience better than i could’ve imagined.”
he sniffs, looks around the villa, “i know i’ve already said but i like you so fuckin’ much. i can already see you in my life outside of here.”
you roll your lips in, brushing your top lip over your septum.
“i didn’t like how you shouted at me yesterday.”
bakugou bows his head, “shit, ‘m sorry about that. just high emotions and all but it’s not an excuse. ‘m sorry, won’t happen again.”
you look to sakura across the villa chatting to kirishima. “does sakura know you don’t want to get to know her romantically?”
he sniffs, “i don’t think i told her word for word. i can make it clearer with her.”
“i think you should.”
“i will.”
then it’s quiet between you both. bakugou’s fingers dying to feel your skin. a cuddle, a kiss, to run his fingers along your thighs.
you feel the pull too. instead of looking at everyone else, you’re being drawn back to him. his navy shorts, his bare sweaty chest. his pretty face looking at yours.
“are we good now?” he asks, hands flat on the sofa right next to you, “i hate this. i miss you so goddamn much.”
you look at his lips. you miss him too.
“we’re good kats,” kats is a good sign, “i wanna see you on your best behaviour.”
“can i get a kiss? please?”
you look at his pleading face, how he wouldn’t be caught dead saying this back home, before he met you. bakugou towers over you, body hovering and the temperature feels as if it’s doubled.
“a peck.”
“fuck it, i’ll take it.”
bakugou ducks his face to yours, presses his lips to your softer ones. it lasts as long as he can make it, sighing on the spot when you pull away and stand up.
“argh, fuck. baby.” he clenches his fingers in need.
it only makes you want to laugh.
“i need to talk to the girls, you need to talk to the guys. i’ll see you later.”
he doesn’t wanna talk to them. he wants to talk to you.
“no, stay with me here.”
“see you later katsuki.”
bakugou grunts, spreading his legs and laying back on the sofa. “see you beautiful.”
bakugou finds a list you made before you dated him
“one. big cock and knows how to use it. two and it’s in all caps. EATER.”
you rest on your forearms on your sofa, looking across the living room to your boyfriend who has appeared from your bedroom. he’s reading a crumpled sheet of paper from god knows where with a massive grin on his face.
“did you get the fan from my room? katsuki, it’s hot!” you whine petulantly. you've got your thin shorts and bralette on, trying to fight the heatwave that has taken over your city.
the heat has beat you down, left you stranded in your living room with three ice lolly packets in your path and skin sticky. you can feel the sweat trickle down your spine, you can see it gathered on katsuki’s exposed forehead, yet he still stands there reading.
“hold on, i’m lovin’ this,” he says, gold tooth shining as his mouth stretches wider, “three. rich and generous with it. is that right? you with me for my cock and money?”
you blink at him a few times, trying not to get distracted by his shirtless bare chest or the black headband he’s got on to push his unruly blonde locks back. he’s handsome, deliciously so. still, you think back to why everything he’s saying is so familiar.
“four. handsome. deliciously so. body and face. rare,” bakugou laughs, boyish and booming, “thanks, babe.”
you feel uncomfortable, perspiration dribbling between your breasts, limbs heavy with exhaustion.
“what is that? what are you reading?”
still bakugou ignores you and continues reading from the paper, “five. successful and ambitious. six. good friend even though he pretends he’s not. protective!! seven. so gentlemanly, holding open doors, paying for dates, very clear on why he likes me.” ruby pupils flicker over to you, “that last one is bare minimum.”
then it clicks, about seven points too late. your head snaps over to him robotically, eyes about to fall out of your head. “where the hell did you find that! stop reading it! stop katsuki!”
you hop up from your seat on your sofa, speed like no other taking over you as you run across the room to grab at the paper in bakugou’s hands. his laugh only booms louder, holding the flimsy sheet in the air over your head as you jump like a child.
“seriously, don’t read anymore!” you shout, trying to hoist yourself up his larger body, using his arms and shoulder as a climbing frame.
nothing about bakugou budges, he just continues reading with the paper in the air.
“it’s getting good, baby!” he laughs, ignoring your jumps and furrowed brows, “eight. listens to me. really listens. makes me feel heard and remembers what i say.”
he looks down at you, whose fingertips are slapping the bottom of the paper. you recognise it all too clearly now. the pink ruled lines, the edges ripped out from one of your old notebooks. your handwriting. “that’s cute. i still listen to you, don’t i?”
“you’re not now! give it back!”
“i’m almost done, two more,” bakugou says, hooking his arm behind your back to keep you locked close to him. you’re both sweaty and sticky. you’ve got no choice but to listen, “nine. cooks. such a good cook! you added five exclamation marks there. ten. fulfils some of my love languages. some?”
“now stop.” you urge. he can’t turn the paper around. he can’t.
bakugou pecks your forehead, his cheeks blushed with all the compliments. he continues skimming the list, rereading it.
“so this is why you chose to date me, huh?” he looks down at you, pouts his lips, “c'mon gimme a kiss.”
if you just grab it out his hands, he won’t see the other side. with pros always comes—
he stops pouting at you.
“give me the paper. i wrote this all a few years ago!”
“if these are the pros, where’s the cons? you must have done a cons list.”
you shake your head, side to side. he holds the paper away from you. the opposite side, the list of all your cons, written back at you. you loop out of his arm, trying to reach for it.
he notices you staring, eyes fixated and that’s when he flips the paper around. CONS in big red capital lettering.
“this is private! you weren’t meant to see this, you shouldn’t be snooping in my room!” you squeak but bakugou’s already half down the page, pupils running across every line like he’s in a race.
“one. WILL choose his job over me—,”
“well obviously, your job is to save the world!”
“two. odd relationship with his mother? but apparently it’s better than before.”
“it’s so much better now!”
bakugou’s eyebrows drop now, voice getting lower as he continues, “three. argumentative. argues with EVERYONE. his agency workers, the media and his friends.”
“i understand why you argue with them all now! it makes sense!”
“three. his job is terrifying.”
bakugou looks over to you, solemn narrowed eyes and you don’t have a positive word to say about that.
“it is, sometimes i don’t know if you’ll come home.”
“four. he doesn’t do much else besides work. all his friends are from work.” bakugou pinches his nose bridge, “really? you think that?”
“now i don’t! and i know they’re childhood friends and… and we do things together all the time. i know you love to read, game, you’ve got your lego. i didn’t know all of that then.”
“five. don’t know if my friends and family will understand.” bakugou steps away from you, “the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
you huff on the spot, “this was from when i met you! all they’ve seen of you is shouting and yelling on the television. they didn’t know how lovable you are. how well you treat me.”
bakugou looks at you, then back at the paper. scratches his head. “six. inexperienced with sex but it’s really cute. has never had a girlfriend?”
“but number one pro is that you know how to use it. obviously we’re experienced now, we know everything about each other,” you flick your finger between you and your boyfriend.
“and the girlfriend comment? i can’t help the fact you’re my first.”
“no, i mean yes i know that. it was just a question as to why. it doesn’t mean anything to me now.”
“but it was a factor in whether you wanted to be my girlfriend,” he states.
“well, yeah,” you drawl, “i thought maybe there was a reason as to why. that’s all.”
bakugou raises his eyebrows, looks back at the sheet, “seven. doesn’t always have time for me. travels a lot for work.”
“that hasn’t changed.” bakugou grunts. it’s something he knows you struggle with while dating him. it’s even been a conversation you’ve had a few times throughout your relationship. quality time. you want to spend more time with him but he simply can’t.
you sigh, grabbing his chin between your fingers so he looks directly at you. his eyes are half lidded, cheeks red and exhausted from the negativity and heat. “we’ve been through this. i’m still gonna stick by you, everything i love about you means more than all the things i find difficult.”
he takes your palm away from your face and squeezes it. but you can tell he’s feeling off. “the last one. eight, he’s surrounded by beautiful women all the time.”
“you’re with celebrities, pro heroes, socialites a lot,” you shrug, “that was jealousy on my part, nothing to do with you.”
“i don’t give a fuck about any of that.”
you nod sharply, “i know! i wrote this a while ago, two years even? a lot has changed.”
bakugou sighs from the pit of his stomach, then flings his head back in a huff. “fuck, baby.” he groans.
then he looks down at you, looking up at him.
“just wanna put it out there, that was private, you weren’t meant to see that, my opinions have now changed and i’m sure you had a mental pro con list for me. i just wrote mine down.”
bakugou folds the paper, “yeah, yeah, i get it. you hate my job that much, huh? it covered half of the fuckin’ cons.
“i also said i liked you were successful and ambitious.” you sit on the back of the sofa, crossing your arms.
bakugou mirrors you standing, crossing his arms too. “but nothing about my job has changed since we’ve got together.”
you groan, leaning your head on your shoulder, “katsuki, i think you’re making problems out of nothing here.”
“you made a list of the problems with datin’ me.” he frowns, holding the folded paper between two fingers.
“and a list of the reasons why i wanted to date you. obviously the good reasons won if i’m with you now.” you glare at him with a sharp tone.
he begins to pace around the room, paper still in hand. a terrible sign. you watch as sweat trickles down his skin, body flush with heat.
“but, babe. the problems you’ve had with me from before we were dating are still problems now. i still don’t have time for you, you still are terrified every time i’m minutes late from a mission, you don’t think i’d choose you over my job and you don’t think i do anything but work.”
you moan aloud, “and i still want you despite that all. i get the world needs you, heck, i need you if i come across a villain. i don’t hate you for being a hero.”
he stops behind you, on the other side of the sofa, “i don’t want you to resent me when you realise you could have been with someone who does have more time for you, isn’t obsessed with their job, can put you first and doesn’t scare you.”
you hop off the sofa. leaning your forehead on his collarbone. “katsuki. i wouldn’t be here if i didn't want to be. i love you. i choose you everyday. i don’t want to argue with you.”
bakugou doesn’t touch you. there’s a shake to his voice, “i’m sorry i’m not better. i’m gonna try to be. just wait for me, fuck, maybe when i’m slower and the younger lot take over, they’ll need me less. it’s just now—,”
“it’s okay. you have time for me right now but you wanna argue with me," you pout up at him.
“you did put that i’m argumentative,” he looks away from you as your hands link around his neck.
“look at me.”
shiny lava red pupils find you. you ground him, takes him out of the what ifs and the failures of his past and places him in the present with you.
“i have dated bakugou katsuki for two years and i love him so much. i love how kind and generous he is, always putting his loved ones first. how he dedicates his life and body to saving the world. how even if he’s tired from a long week of working, he still comes over to cook me a three course meal because he wants to see me eat his food. who was so open and willing to change for me. to change his routines and learn my body. who is argumentative because he wants to make things right. who wanted so hard for my family and friends to love him and manages to see his mother once a week just to check up on her.”
you search in both his eyes and he’s listening, he always is.
“i can write an updated list for you, if you want.”
he shakes his head, stuffs his forehead into your neck and slowly pushes you down into the sofa. you laugh, his hands plastered into your waist as his body crushes you in the plush cushions ever so slightly.
“‘m sorry. i shouldn’t have read it. even though i enjoyed the pros.” he muffles, lips tickling your skin.
you tap his shoulder. “you shouldn’t have but it’s okay. i still need you to get my fan. it’s hot.”
“promise you’ll tell me if you want somethin’ to change between us. i’m not wakin’ up one day to you leavin’ me for a reason right under my nose.” he urges and you can see him pleading. the desperation for you to agree.
“promise. now you promise me.”
“course i promise. i couldn’t even fill out ten reasons as to why i hate you.”
“i didn't say i hate you. and sure you can. you hate my cold feet. you hate how i moan about my job. you hate how i hate your job. you hate how i always want a massage. you hate how i wait until the last minute when you’re tucked up in bed for you to get me a glass of water. you hate how i’m indecisive for what i want for my birthdays and—,”
bakugou sits up, “i don't hate any of that shit. love listenin’ to you and half that shit is cute as hell.”
you pout, “you hate when i wear low cut tops out—,”
he frowns, “that’s foreplay, baby. you let me suck your tits after to make me happy. couldn’t give a shit what you wear.”
“how about how protective my friends are? and the fact i tell them everything?”
bakugou shrugs, “you deserve friends that love you that much and that you can tell everythin’.”
“i get snappy when i’m running late or too much is going on or i’m hot.”
with that bakugou gets up. your fan. though not without hovering over you to give you a peck. then another. you press your soft lips against his though you don’t open up because then you will get even hotter and snappy.
he pulls off you and rises from the sofa, “that makes sense, baby. you’re stressed and uncomfortable.”
you roll your eyes, “stop being so understanding!”
he walks towards your bedroom, but not without turning around to look at you. his fingers grip the door frame, “i love you.”
Synopsis. First time getting pússydrúnk = first time losing his mind.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, PÚSSYDRÚNK MEN, dúmbifícation, tummy buIges, they go FÈRAL, cúmplay, marathons, babbIing, proposals, GOJO’S POWERS, ínnappropriate use of jujutsu, breéding, MEAN Geto, rough s, p sIapping, manhandIing, true form Sukuna, dp, exhíbitíonism (Geto and Higuruma), cervíx kíssing, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Happy wife, happy life
“One more.”
“M-more, ma?”
The very tips of Toji’s ears burn with a scorching red blush, jaw gritting tighter and tighter with every pap! of your delicious hips slamming down onto his. And if you heard the way his rasping baritone cracked towards the end, well-
“Toji—” You’re gasping, swiping away the treacly droplets of saliva gushing from one end of his dopey grin. Like he didn’t even realize it. “Are you-”
“No.”
The answer is instantaneous - seething. And so is the way he’s latching on two meaty palms on either side of your waist. Manhandling your glissading body until that slight smirk was fully pounded off of your lips.
He was vulgar. Spitting through clenched teeth, “M’not- not what you’re ngh- thinking, silly girl. Tch- m’not that w-weak.” Toji’s darting his eyes up n’ down, mouth ajar at the heavenly sight of you gulping down every one of his long inches. Babbling thickly, “M’not- s’just that…”
“Just what?” And you didn’t know who was more ruined - you or him.
“Just…m-marry me.”
Oh, it was definitely him. Toji Fushiguro was fully and officially pussydrunk.
A filmy gaze takes over his verdant eyes when those words make your glossy entrance flood with a few more slathers of slick, splotches of it puddling all over his jagged happy trail. He was in heaven.
That is, until Toji realizes just what he’s uttered and he’s inhaling a sharp gasp. Fuck.
Bulging pecs heaving with embarrassment and pure carnal need once he tiredly hovers up two fat fingerpads and smashes your cheeks together into a pathetic pout. Lurching you over and gifting your lolling pinkish tastebuds with a syrupy web of saliva to shut you up before you can even think of snarking back.
“Sh-shut up.” He’s groaning into your slack cavern, brandishing a harsh strike of his bloated tip circumference into your cervix. Tense core burning with the stretch, “Just- just if we’re gonna hck! make Megumi a big brother, m’gonna marry you, ma- don’t be stupid.”
Fuck- what?
Your heart races, and Toji seems to have realized the effect his little confession had on you - even when his mind was all melty and feverish like this.
Because you’re getting graced with a rapid three spanks to your drooling slit, before drawing a lazy few hearts over your perky clit. The ravenous end of his thumb was driving you mad, “That’s right. Open ‘er wider. Lemme see, ma.”
“S-so bossy.” You’re muffling out a whine, yet mindlessly heeding to every word he was prattling off. There’s a resounding squelch! from below you once Toji pries apart your gluey walls and matches your other set of lips by spitting out a steady stream of spittle. Choking out a moan at the beads of his own cum leaking out of you, “Sh-shiiit, Toji—”
“T-T-Toji—” He’s mocking, so many dramatic octaves higher to hide the needy tremor in his words. The meaner Toji got, the meaner his thrusts became.
And the meaner his calloused fingers were, wafting over your pussymound to swipe up every weepy ounce of seed. Popping a few generous helpings of caramel salt sap into your mouth, “N’ you say I’m the- ngh- pussydrunk one.”
But he was - oh, he was.
No matter how much he was planting his feet flatly on the soft mattress to hide the desperate shiver running through every overstimulated limb in his body, no matter how much he was scrunching his heavy lids shut to stow away just how far his glassy irises were sliding backwards.
You were riding him for what felt like hours now, and he was already tearing up. Delicately-flushed face drooping into the cushy pillow. You’re humming, “You are.”
“Shut the fuh-fuck up.” He growls, a slow trickle of sweat forming at his temple. “Pussydrunk- tch. As if. Can ya see hearts in m-my eyes or what, ma?”
Toji couldn’t stop himself from reeling one big, beefy arm behind his head and clasping onto the mahogany headboard. Building up dangerously, “S-so what if I c-can’t think- so what if this pretty pussy makes me want a baby—”
His massive biceps flex so attractively, knuckles straining - hard enough that your head snaps up at the splintering crack! of wood-
“Toji- fuck fuck fuck–” Struggling to get out mere syllables let alone full sentences, he was swirling the ruby-red curve of his length ‘round and ‘round your mushy insides so good. Slippery orifice at the very middle of his mushroomy tip leaving heated French snogs all over those magical spots, “Are- are you okay, baby–?”
Shit, he’s bowing his muscular back the perfect curvature off of your drenched bedsheets. Sweat-glazed abs crushing up into your front, he scrunches his nose and keens.
“No- No.” There’s a zip! of power - of Toji’s power - and the bed cracks even further, as if he wasn’t even in control of it. “Gooood I love you, doll- love her.”
“Wh-what-” You’re following his lecherous gaze back down to your filthy cunt, where he was salivating at the sultry sight of your puffy pussy lips struggling to accommodate him. All weepy and messy. Messy with him.
Your tummy turns with just how full you were of his milky sap, yet you wanted more. Veins bubbling at the glutinous swash of his wiry strings of seed coating your innermost walls.
Overstuffed to your tight brim with every girthy inch of his cock, a cute dimple embeds its way into the side of Toji’s cheek when he sees one of his puffy veins rub your slick hole just the way you liked. Snickering out - airy, breathless. Nonsensically. “I’m not p-pussydrunk- she is. Got me- got me goin’ crazy.”
There’s a solid twitch of Toji’s sobbing fat head at the very bottom of your pussy, and it’s all you can do to not scream. Close.
Rutting your hips in a semi-bounce, it marks all down the striking flesh of your thighs with Toji’s prominent hipbones. It marks the door to your womb with him-
“Cum f’me then, Toji—” You’re whimpering, watching the way his eyes widen a simple fraction. “A-all up inside- want it. Want is so ngh- bad.”
“G-greedy girl.” He grunts, oh-so-smug.
The very last thing before Toji feels like he’s in fucking heaven. Before he thinks that you might just be an angel watching over him - shuddering right over him while he pumps you so very full of copious volumes of cum.
It’s filthy. It’s overspilling.
And he doesn’t even know how he’s still cumming, but right now Toji doesn’t think he can stop.
Toes curling with stimulation, towering body trembling underneath your very touch. He was sensitive. And he was rutting his hips up in an eager one-two to push the ivory wads of cum deeper inside of you-
“S-so full.” You’re biting your lip- only for a split-second before Toji’s straying up a thick thumb and pulling it out from between your teeth.
You feel your core heat up as soon as he takes over nipping on your lower lip like his favorite candy. And with one hand he’s stroking the drooling ends of your cunt, lapping up his saturated seed; with the other he’s patting that tummy bulge of yours. “T-told you I’ll get ya ngh- pregnant.”
“Toji…” You’re crooning, and that low tone of yours is enough to make his breath hitch. Your hips come down in an arched drag all down his toned abs, grinding your neglected clit. Hard. “One more?”
Toji’s voice cracks, “P-please.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - “J-just the…”
Now, Nanami meant to feed your cute, weepy orifice with just his fattened tip - he meant to give his pretty lil’ wife only a taste before he had to rush off to work this morning.
Half-dressed up in that formal suit you loved so much, heated body firm against your adorably arched back. At least…that’s what he meant to do.
But with only a singular proud inch sunken inside you, your husband finds himself gasping. Heaving. “Just the tip” be damned.
“M-my darling—” What’s this? Nanami Kento never stutters. He never sounds so…fucked-out already.
Your hips rut backwards and make him break out in a boiling hot sweat, “Are you okay–?”
One warm hand clamors down to the curve of your waist where you were pressed side-by-side, sensually dragging up that flimsy silk nightgown of yours. The other immediately rovering to his hefty base and squeezing as if to hold himself back.
“Fuck- fuck! Yes, dear, I-I’m okay, just…” He’s pushing his condensed glasses up, drawling with a throaty tinge of madness in his words. Batting and batting those long tawny lashes, but his vision was still tinged with such hot arousal. “Do you have hah- anythin’ you want to say to say t’me, hm?”
You’re craning your glassy eyes over your shoulder with a quirked brow, thighs falling further open at his scorching hot nudge. Yearning for more more more. “What do you mean, Ken?”
And oh- shit.
Your voice saying his first name like that is enough to make Nanami’s powerful hips rut in a way he didn’t even mean to. Enough to make him bite down fervently on his stern lower lip and suck in a deep inhale once his plumpened crownhead jolts–
“Y-your pretty pussy, my love.” He’s gasping out in a cloudy pant of heat and haze against the back of your neck. So earnestly filthy when complimenting your cunt that it makes you squirm, “Feels s-so…so heavenly. Wet. Even more than usual.”
Fuck.
And then it hits you.
“Maybe- hck!” It was so difficult to speak when your dear Nanami was just bursting with nervous lust, his muscular thighs shivering up against the backs of your own. Ready to pounce. Read to break you. Your whine trills with anticipation, “Maybe it’s because m’ovulating, Kento. I haaaah- heard that can affect ah!”
“Shit, how could I have forgotten?”
And right now you don’t know whether he’s muttering huskily to you or to himself. Every spilling syllable making his abdomen angle subconsciously deeper and deeper. A rapid little push back and forth to fit past your taut ring of soft muscle, “M-my calendar said it’s your ngh- ovulation week, darlin’. That’s why she’s so…sloppy. That’s why she’s making me so…”
Pussydrunk. Nanami’s voice trails away behind you like he couldn’t even bear to finish the sentence - because he’s never been like this. So out-of-control.
Indeed, you’re pouring out such tangled knots of slick that it was making the base of Nanami’s curvaceous balls flood. Slathering out a thick coating of sap all over his fat digits and then some.
“But look at you- ohhh look at you—” Breathless worship strikes you once he’s lurching up his hand to admire the glossy glaze you’d topped all down his golden wedding ring. Awe-struck. Plopping them into his mouth with a soggy fwop! “C-can’t believe you’re mine. Ohh can’t believe you’re mine.” And before you know it, Nanami spanks the end of his palm down your pussymound. Hard. “M’s-sorry, my love.”
What was he even apologizing for?
Just as soon as you’re left wondering - you’re given your answer.
In a single, jagged buck that makes your toes curl with bliss, the staggering stretch of Nanami’s size dabs open every nook n’ cranny inside of you. As if he was well and fully intent on splitting you apart.
He didn’t even have to try to mush the zig-zag of his veiny underside down your sweetest spots, buttery orifice topping with such heaps of sweltering hot slick dripping off of your cervix. Your tummy weighs down with the viscous plap! of his sugarcoating pre.
“Bite- bite down if m’too rough, my wife.” You’re blinking back your bleary vision to take in the sight of his smooth, tannish forearm presented in front of you. All strong and sexily flexing, it simply makes your mouth water. “Because s’about to get…bumpy.”
Yeah, he definitely wasn’t going to work today.
Not when he had you like this - your mouth spilling out so many ounces of drunken saliva, your gummy walls molding and taking him in so easily.
“Atta giiiirl— take it. Jus’ the- just the-” He’s cutting himself off with every lightning bolted vein pushing past your teary entrance, letting off a gasp! just as soon as he takes a glance down to find himself all bottomed-out. Way past the tip, still pushing and pushing and pushing- “Oh, s-sorry. Can’t control it ngh! Sorry sorry sorry can’t-”
“Fuck! S-so good, Kento–” You’re whimpering, flinching at the wet texture of his tongue stealing a looong lick up your throat.
The sharpened edges of his canines - ones he normally oh-so-carefully kept away from damaging your pretty skin - nip down your sprinting pulse. Mouth watering at the throbbing ba-dump! he could feel. Nanami’s voice comes out tight, restrained still. “But- but m’being so…pussydrunk.”
Truly, in every sense of the word.
The only thing on Nanami’s mind being to pound his bloated length into you so vulgarly rough that his toned obliques were aching. To prick the target of your g-spot each n’ every time with his swirling crownhead, leaving wet spatters of precum for you to remember him by.
And you don’t know if he could even hear you right now, you don’t know if he could even breathe. And yet, you find yourself babbling away anyways, “But- But I like it rough, Ken.”
Fuck.
Nanami’s mouth parts open with a breathless little, “Fuck.” And you swear you’re hearing his rich bass break into a zillion pieces at the end.
His once-sloppily needy turning into something even ruder, wringing out a pitch ah! ah! ah! out of you with every thrust. He’s trotting down a free palm underneath your slick-lacquered inner thighs and smearing you open shamefully.
“Sh-shit- in so deep.” You’re whinging euphorically, fingers itching to grab the expensive fabric of his tie trawling up and down your back. “M-maybe I should get you hck! pussydrunk more often, hm?”
Oh, how he agreed.
But Nanami wasn’t done. Far from it - two fingers wrenching your tear-streaked face to meet his deep molten gaze, hips searing hot. “Mhm— Now look into my eyes when I fuck you stupid, my love.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - IT GIRL!
“Fuck-” Geto’s cutting himself off with a strangled gasp! when you let your fingers thread through his long, inky locks. Crescents of your nails caressing his sweat-drenched scalp and making him keen. Pulling. He stares around at the cult members encircling you two, “-y-you.”
“S’what you’re hngh! doing, Sugu—” You’re giggling out, biting your lip - though, not for long. Choking on a pitiful squeal once he thumbs away your entrapped maw and bites.
A punishment.
A punishment was what this was supposed to be - to embarrass your adorable self for messing up that last mission.
But fuck- right about now, it was Geto who was so thoroughly impacted by the way you were straddling his slender hips just so. Your vulgar tempo drives his eyes skittering all the way to the back of his lids.
Shit, he should’ve never let you ride him.
“S’this- s’this all ya got?” Geto grits his pearly whites, stare darting away from your tempting tits before he loses it. His meaty thighs fold up behind you n’ inch you down towards him. Because, hell, he didn’t think he could even raise his delirious head at the moment.
Tone raising, “See that? Tch, shoulda- shoulda had this be your task instead. S’where you belong, slutty lil’ thing.”
Oh, and you already knew he didn’t mean a word that spilled out of his ravenous mouth. Already knew that Geto probably didn’t even know what he was babbling.
“Mhm— yes, leader.”
Panting at what a tease you are.
Parched tongue soothing over the bruise surely to blossom on your pretty lips. And Geto’s next words are low, dangerous - you swear his hazy amethyst eyes flash with something that told you you were fucked. “Gettin’ reeeeal mouthy, gorgeous.”
One spank sings out a sharp thwack! from your puffed-up pussylips, and then two more ring from where Geto’s toying the curved ends of his slender digits over your clit. Ruthless. Greedy gaze narrowing while his other hand rakes looong lines down your hips. “Too mouthy.”
You’re whimpering at the sheer unadulterated stimulation - the way that he was fucking up into you so mean. Cutting off each of your stuttered bounces with a striking rut of his own. With a solid smooch! into where your tender g-spots were aching.
He was fucking you stupid.
The air sings with his dragged-out whistle, “Cockdrunken a-already, huh?”
Those last words aren’t meant for you - and your spine stiffens at the murmurs and agreements echoing from your little audience.
Ah, might as well give them a show.
Just then you’re tugging even harder on Geto’s silky hair and he whimpers- Stomach twisting, you barely manage to get out, “Who’s pussydrunken?”
“Shit- you little–” He’s gurgling through a glistening line of drool that homes itself near the watery edges of his lips. Fighting and fighting to keep his head from lolling languidly backwards- why wasn’t his melty mind cooperating with him at all? “You- o-ohhhh, you are going to pay for this.”
God, you can’t help the way that little threat only leaves you wetter.
Splotching out oodles of saccharinely syrupy slick that helps you slip n’ slide your throbbing clit all over the front of Geto’s washboard abs. Heavenly. Every laddered drag down his rippling muscles was delicious - you don’t know who enjoyed the lecherous act more, you or him.
“What was that?”
Dewy eyes lock onto yours - heated. “Fuh-fuck you.” Rutting up harder and harder, your pace-ridden body stings after each pound. His hands on you grow painful - bruising - pushing your head down with a clawed hand on your scalp. “Fuck you fuck- fuck–”
And Geto’s long lashes glisten in the dim lighting as he bats away a bulbous sheen of tears, taking his sweet sweet time to even register what you were talking about.
In the distance you think you hear someone gasp. The big, bad leader of the Time Vessel Association brought to tears? Brought to utter speechlessness?
You’re snickering down at your leader before you know it. Clingy walls molding around his cylindrical length like a hot adhesive in a way that made him blush, “S’this your fuck! first time bein’ pussydrunk?”
Thighs shaking, “I-I’m not–”
“Well, can you even hah- remember my name, Sugu–?”
“Bitch.” He spits out.
He was completely and utterly under your thumb for the very first time and he didn’t know how to handle it. Doing everything and anything. Losing face in front of his followers — fast.
And you could feel yourself getting closer and closer at just how pretty Geto Suguru was under the mercy of your sultry touch. Shivering bodily wherever your sensory fingertips drifted, gasping through bouts of driveling slobber whenever your engulfing pussy squeezed too tight.
Geto’s latching both trembly hands of his on the slamming mounds of your flesh and pinning you down. Holding you so-very-still.
You can practically hear the danger-impeding growl in the words snarled against your ear. “Who’s pussydrunk now?” He’s sinking the sharp fringes of his canines into your sensitive lobe once you start gyrating your hips impatiently. Barely shifting an inch, “Yeah? Yeahhh wan’ me to m-move, huh?”
“That’s- that’s unfair.” You’re huffing and puffing above him, your hardened nipples catching onto the curves of his pecs sinfully. So close.
“Oh yeah? S’it unfair?” Towards the rest of the cult- and of course, they follow their leader. Of course, they’re agreeing with whatever Geto’s drawling out drunkenly. Spitting into your half-open mouth, “They don’t think so.”
And oh, that lustful cloud taking over his gaze told you that it wasn’t over.
The way that Geto was turned on enough to drool with every swab into your geysering insides told you enough-
With another loud swat planted on where your heated pussymound was waterfalling out sploshing heaps of slick, he thumbs the perky outers of your clit. “Cum f’me then. Make yourself ah- cum and I might jus’ forgive you for c-calling me tch- pussydrunk.”
You were already so close- already teetering on the edge that only another vulgar swerve of his fattened cock massaging your insides is all it takes.
You might have been just as far gone as he was. Head throwing back, a strangled whine of Sugu– escaping you, capped knees plopping you down even harder to ride out your white-hot high.
And Geto was letting you.
Oh, fuck any stupid punishment - he was letting you trawl out every blissful pinpoint of your high on him. Using him. Mouth falling open in a gasp once you don’t just cum - you’re squirting, a crashing wave of sweetened sap spraying out of you like a fountain.
Shit.
Shit shit shit- he doesn’t even know what he’s doing. Doesn’t even know what he’s thinking other than slapping down an open palm to scoop up every waterlogged gush pouring out of you.
Popping it into his mouth- “I-I said cum- not squirt, gorgeous.” Geto whines - whines - out, mouth smeared with a twisted, dopey grin that made him look so ruined. In the blink of your bleary eyes, he’s captured one of your hands to curl around his clammy throat, begging you to squeeze. Addicted. “Let’s s-see if we can get it right this time.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Raw, next question.
“C-can I really…?” Choso breathes out like a prayer, not even having put it in yet but oh-so-ruined already. Licking his cerise lips when he curls a few thin fingers around his hefty base and draaaags a long line down your teary slit, “S’it- s’it really okay f’me to go in raw this time, baby?”
And he was opening up your slobbery cunt so tenderly, prying your puffy folds apart to give your flooded entrance an admiring look.
How ready and drooling you were - for him. All for him, him, him.
Fuck. It’s enough to make him blush maidenly pink and dart his honeypool eyes back up to your fluttering eyes. Attempting and failing to stop the animalistic twitch of his greedy crownhead-
“Mhm–” You’re drawling out, a few fingers tangling with his soft mahogany hair and making Choso moan. You swear you’re feeling the curvaceous edge of his mushroom tip spurt out a steamy jetstream of webbed pre, “Put it in, Cho. Wanna feel you deep inside, m’kay?”
He’s nodding away deliriously while you speak, nodding away even after. Head bobbling on its own like he was listening to the saturated slurps! being let off by your cunt the moment he’s sinking past.
“Gonna put it in, okay? Gonna put it- o-oh.” Choso ruts his ballooned-up cockhead in through your slippery hole, brushing the sensitive orifice in his middle right up against your gummy walls. All it takes for his half-lidded eyes to go pure white, “Baby. Baby…”
Trailing those words away into nothingness, you’re rendered equally as speechless when Choso wrenched his hips back as if in a daze. Disbelieving. Only to pump you full and fuller again, and again.
And again and again and-
You’re brushing away a few strands of hair plastered onto his sweat-shimmering forehead, “Are you okay, Cho?”
“N-no-” Gasping out in short, condensed breaths that fan over your face in hot waves. Everything about your dear boyfriend was burning up right now; his skin, his words, his cadence. Pushing and pushing- “Why?”
Quirking a brow, it’s all you can do to not show off the tremor in your tone from the way he glides his sobbing tip down, down, down your cervix. “Wh-what do you mean, Cho?”
“Why?” Fuck- there it is again. Whispered out like an accusation over and over while he’s rovering two hands underneath your jittery thighs to fold you like a lawnchair into a lecherous mating press. With a peck to your lips, he moans, “Wh-why didn’t you tell me it could feel so ngh! good, baby– ohhh, baby, m’goin’ fucking crazy over here.”
And he was fucking you like it, too.
Usually Choso Kamo was smooth, suave where he wanted to be n’ letting you use him however you wanted with the cutest blush breezing all over his face.
And he was blushing right now, alright. Only it was with sheerly raw frustration at the fact that his sobbing length was hitting the goopy bottom of your pussy and he couldn’t go any deeper. Like he couldn’t stop, hips out of control.
Handsome jaw clenching, he hikes up a powerful thigh and bends.
“F-fuuuuck–” You’re squealing at the searing stretch of his strengthened limbs manhandling you easily, bending you like some glorified ragdoll to every want and whim. “Baby-”
And just that little nickname is enough to make Choso shudder, all the way from the tips of his curled toes to this wobbly lower lip. Suddenly striking your gushing g-spot with so much rugged intensity that it makes your veins bubble n’ boil.
“Baby.” He’s echoing out, a spit-slicked smile spreading all over his face. And there’s something in his gentle, fawny eyes that makes Choso look…feral. “Baby baby baby- fuuuuck, m’gonna give ya a baby.”
Your mouth drops into a neat oh of shock - so that’s what it was.
He was pussydrunk. Utterly and completely pussydrunk, and only with a handful of vulgar strokes inside of your dripping cunt.
The very thought is just enough to stimulate big, fat tears into welling up behind his eyes. And they’re smudging a Stygian few lines of eyeliner down Choso’s high cheekbones, blubbering. “S’that- s’that okay, baby?” Moaning when a few salty beads rover down to your tummy, he smears the mess to make it even messier. “Gonna have you m-milk me.”
“Maybe you should ask me when you’re not ngh- pussydrunk, Cho–” You’re managing out a barely-lucid giggle that only makes him huff adorably.
“Pussydrunk?”
“Mhm–”
“So that’s what it is. Can’t think. Can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but…this-” He’s angling his hips to perk up a rounded bulge at your tummy, and with a gasp you’re realizing that it’s where he was fucking into you. A lecherous, cylindrical outline that made your thighs tighten over Choso’s sculpted shoulders. Brushing a fat thumb over it, “I’m doin’ this right- hck- I’m reaching the very end of your p-pretty pussy.”
You’re halfway crying when his mean thumb taps over the rotund hill and pushes down. “Wanna make this bump e-even ngh- bigger, baby– Look so pretty all rooound n’ glowing.” You were so weak to the way he’s batting his long lashes, “Lookin’ like ya want me ta get you p-pregnant.”
He’s so shy about it - flushing the sweetest shade of red. But the way that only makes Choso buck even wilder into you was anything but.
And you’re blaming that for the way your mouth opens with a pathetically pitched, “Yes. Yes please-” Throwing your arms amorously around his flexing shoulders, you could count every flex and shift of his back muscles. “-cum inside me, baby.”
And he does.
Your words were enough - more than enough.
With only a few more deeply probing strikes to your sponged cervix, you’re feeling your poor cunt overspill with torrents of warm cum.
Maybe along the way you’re cumming, too. But all you can feel are the thickened wads of him sliiiiding all down your leaky lips. Ribbons upon ribbons glistening down the stretched-out ends of your pussy and forming a creamy ring covering his base.
Choso can only stare half-lidded at the utter mess his twitching cock was making. He almost feels a pang of disappointment at the ounces going to waste.
“Hah?” Choso’s breath comes out panted and hollowed, burning hot against your face once his hips start slamming even harder into yours. Without even realizing. A lazy smile cracks his parted lips as if he couldn’t believe it, as if he was just discovering fucking you all full. “Hah- oh, baby- you’re gonna get me pregnant now. Gonna get me- shit. Might just.”
He looked so genuinely serious. Pussydrunk enough that it made sense to him.
Splaying out your legs just a bit wider, he’s hastily latching a hand downwards. Pumping the excess of his long cock, the air between your legs just humming with cursed energy- is he…
“Choso-” You’re yelping at the pressure of cursed energy and your own high, eyeing the way that your boyfriend’s sexy face tattoo was ever-growing. “-are you using your power-”
“Yes-” He gasps, not a shred of shame. “Yes yes yes yes.”
Not a shred of regret for the way he’s manipulating the blood in his body to go back down to his pulsing cock. To make himself stiffen up even harder and harder once more-
One look at Choso told you he was gone. His first time going in raw and he’ll never be the same again.
Drooling, smiling. Eyes growing darker when his veiny cock pulls your rubbery walls tautly again, rock-hard. “Gotta make sure it takes, baby.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - BOAF?!
Sukuna was filthy.
Sukuna was mean.
And Sukuna was veering right towards insanity once feels your trembly fingers eagerly twitching towards his second neglected cock. Wrapping your digits around his massively fat girth and pinpointing your clit with his crowned tip.
“What’cha think yer doing there, ma?” He’s leering down at you, snickering at the adorable way you huff and puff when his heavy, throbbing shaft makes your wrist ache.
You pout in a stupidly pathetic way that makes the pulsing length inside of you twitch. Sukuna’s monstrous mouth on his stomach lapping up the stray rivulets of syrupy slick sprinkling from your cunt, “Just- just want both, Kuna.”
“Both?” He’s rumbling- in disbelief. In shock. How could one human be so…greedy? Parched tone lilting higher in both volume and pitch. “Barely handlin’ one n’ you want both?”
Oh, and when you can only nod and nod- Sukuna finds himself growling in desperation. No, it was something different, something more out-of-control. Hit with a sudden bout of something dizzyingly carnal inside of him-
He’s swatting down the fat pads of his fingertips on your teary pussymound, elongated nails hovering darkly above where you were the most tender n’ needy.
And the king of curses finds himself biting his lower lip to hold back a moan when your pussy only gets wetter. “Show me then- prove it t’me how much you wan’ it, brat.”
“S-so badly.” With a cry of desperation, your fingers slither down to push apart your puffy pussylips.
“Wider.”
“Ngh-” And it’s almost embarrassing just how intensely your lover looks at you, the way his cursed mouth licks its lips. “Want you both inside me.”
He’s…feral.
Sukuna swirls a long finger of his own around your elastic wall, the edges of both mouths curling into a smirk at just how pliable you are.
How he loved you. Loved this cunt. Couldn’t think of anything but that.
“Naughty fuckin’ thing.” He spits out, bubblegum pink brows furrowing. But- really, who the hell was Ryomen Sukuna against you? Especially when he himself feels so…fucked-out. Crimson eyes shuttering half-lidded, his grin turns handsomely lop-sided. “Take it then- take it already.”
He was making you feel so full.
Both twin cocks so incredibly fat that your rubbery hole was being stretched to limits you didn’t even know were possible. And Sukuna takes every opportunity to make you gasp, to slip inside another thorough expanse of his veiny cock and leave your toes curling.
And that wasn’t all.
Oh, that wasn’t all. The sheerly raw texture of both lengths bustling inside you was enough to make your slit pour out a quick few torrents of slick. As if you were squirting.
“Hoooly shit, mama.” He huffs out through sharply flared nostrils, looking just about as gone as you once your gooey pussy is making way for him to feed in a few pounding inches. “There we go- move that damn hand.”
Sukuna’s rudely swatting away the fingers still toying with your spraying cunt before you can even think about it. “Fuck. What are ya doin’ t’me?”
“Are you…” You’re blinking with the last few dredges of your rationality. “-are you pussydrunk, Kuna?”
“No.” Splitting your cervix with the jagged streaks of his sap, it drips down to the very front of your pussy with a sharp thud! thud! thud! “Yes- no. Maybe. Sh-shut up, human.”
He was impatient. He was feral. Bouncing up a sculptured thigh to keep your hips gravitating down deeper n’ deeper down his vicious shafts, every pap! of his capped knee striking the globes of your ass leave you whining. Back arching-
“No no no no, don’t run out on me just yet.” Sukuna hisses, voice as commanding as usual. Yet, underneath that was a current of something…panicked that even your cottony mind could make out. Animalistic. “Don’t run. Need it- I need you, mama.” Latching two massive hands on either side of your waist, and then a third on your scalp to push you down. “Wan’ed both- so take it.”
Rough.
“K-Kuna—!” You’re mewling, grappling heedlessly onto the broad mountains of his deltoids and making them flex. Mind growing hazier and hazier by the second.
He snickers, “Who’s the drunk one now? Me or you?”
“Don’t- I don’t kn-”
“I- said-” He’s drilling in thorough thrusts that drive those words to your very core. “Who’s- pussydrunk- now?”
And you didn’t even know what you were saying. You didn’t even know the words before they’re tumbling out. “Me– m-me.”
“That’s right- allll cockdrunk f’me.” But god, your pretty noises were enough to make all two of his mouths bubble out thin lines of saliva. Drooling. “F-fuckin’ needy pussy.” Did you just make the king of curses stutter? Before you can even register the impossible feat, he plows on. “Has me hypnotized- fuck, m’so ruined for ‘er.”
Shit, he was finally admitting it - to himself, at least. You had him pussydrunk.
You had his heart racing with a fervent ba-dump! right in time with the thrashes he was planting on the bullseye of your g-spot. One. And then two split-ended tips driveling all over your bruised walls.
And it’s like he was almost angry at you for exposing his only ever weakness - you, and your cute cunt
Perking up a fourth hand underneath your thighs in just the right angle for the saccharine dewdrops of your slick to spill right down to his twin mouth.
“Want that?” Sukuna’s babbling comes out in heated gusts against your ear, both throbbing cocks leaving wet splotches of pre down the most sensitive areas of your inner walls. And it was so heavenly - just when you thought the stimulation couldn’t get any better, his cursed tongue steals a lingering kiss over where your folds were the puffiest. “Wanna make out w’my t-tongue, huh, ma?”
At this point you can only nod, jittering down your slickly glissading body until his mouth was all slathered with your sloppy pussy. Making such nasty slurping noises that had your ears popping.
“Anything- anything you want, brat-” Sukuna leaves innocent pecks down your neck - something he never stoops down to a mushy enough position to do. But right now, it was like he couldn’t stop. Just like he couldn’t stop keeling his hips off of the creaking mattress and up between your fluttering lips.
“A-anything?” You’re unsure whether you heard that correctly.
Groaning- he nods. And it wasn’t the usual, stern nod Sukuna loved. Right now, you had him on a leash. “Anything, just say the word- fuck. Ya have the king wrapped ‘round your finger, y’know?”
♡ GOJO SATORU - UNSEAL
The strongest’s first time getting his hands on you after being unsealed and he was pussydrunk instantly.
And right now your dumbstruck mind was wondering whether he would ever let you go, whether he would ever even slow down–
“S-Satoru?”
Gojo flinches right on top of you as if his entire muscular body was zapped with a thousand bolts of electricity, the mere sound of your honeyed tone enough to make him swab at your springy cervix with a strangled whimper.
“Satoru.” Gasping, you’re letting your hazy peripherals glide over your heady bedroom; that shattered bedside lamp, the way your unbolted furniture was hovering. “C-calm down.”
Only getting sloppier.
“Fuh-fuck!” He’s hissing, silky blindfold dampening with a few overstimulated tears. Octaves higher, tinged with a tremble of madness that made it sound like he was holding back a crazed laugh, “Calm down. Calm down- telling me to- fuck-”
Before you know it you’re being hit with yet another mean strike of his dribbling mushroom tip, targeting your most battered insides with cute speck of pre. And then an even meaner hit of his massive palms slamming down on the stinging flesh of your hips.
Uncontrollable - the force of it enough to leave you bruised from the inside out.
Making your weepy entrance stream out enough globules of cum to formulate rings upon creamy rings ‘round his bulky base. Without even trying.
Because Gojo had grown muscular. Even bigger during his stay in the prison realm.
So strong he was bending you pliantly without even realizing, and it was just making your greedy pussy fountain out in even more aroused waves of slick.
His body was pressing into you deeply, nudging your clammy face to plaster ever-intensely into the soaked pillow. Smearing your cheek across the treacly puddle of saliva with a push of his massively strong arm, his crownhead jackhammers away viciously. Sloshing about waves of buttery sap inside you, “Don’t- don’t talk to me.”
You’re whimpering at the way his meaty thighs kiss your own and shiver. Fattened balls oh-so-hot and aching at the base of your cunt with every pap, “W-what do you mean, Toru- mmpf!”
Gojo covers his palm over your stupidly ajar maw to catch every rope of pathetic spittle drivelling out of you, the wet splat! all over his mountainous hand making him groan.
“I said- fuck!” Spitting out in warm, marky pants against the tender skin of your throat, sharp canines nip down on your pulse as if to remind you exactly who you’re dealing with. Him. “S-say anythin’ more in that pretty voice again n’ m’gonna g-get you pregnant, sweetheart. Or m’gonna make you get me pregnant. Fuck. Can’t do anythin’ else- can’t even th-think.”
The image makes Gojo himself shudder, visualizing just how pretty you would be all round and glowing. Fuck, he really was pussydrunk.
He’s leaning back ever-so-slightly to get a ravenous eyeful of your sloppy hole, droopy eyes imagining those beaded gumdrops of your slick to be something more like his cum. And for that inflated bulge of his cylindrical outline at your tummy to be something…more.
It’s enough to make his mouth water, fat wads of saliva sprinkling all down your arched back in a glossy sheen.
“B-but, Toru.” You always did have a smart mouth, huh? Your hips perk backwards, velvety walls squeezing his thick, feverishly hot length until Gojo whines. He whines. “Y-you’re gonna break-”
Smiling something all dopey and drunken, “Break you?”
“Break- break everything.” You’re trilling out, and- shit, you didn’t forget who you were dealing with, right?
Because the very last syllables of your sentence have barely tumbled from between your lips before your skin prickles - and you’re feeling the icy air around you stagnate with so many countless atoms.
You’re feeling the scorching heat of his body pull away with a pained grunt, head lolling upwards to and fro - from the hovering tables, the split bedframe, the bulbs that were disintegrated - as if he’d just realized how completely out of control his powers were. How he was.
“Oh.” Gojo’s drawling out with a carnal husk in his tone, doughy ends of his two of his long fingers coming up to snap!
“Ah!” You’re yelping- you’re heaving in deep breaths of air because in simple nanoseconds, Gojo Satoru had both your furniture and you cluttering downwards.
Your back hits the soaked-through bed with a slight bounce, desperately clawing the crescent edges of your nails into his deltoids for an ounce of balance. Wait, weren’t you just on all fours?
Did…did he just-
“Mhmmm— sure did teleport us, my girl.” He’s crooning into your ear, and you don’t know if you’d just prattled that out loud or if your boyfriend could read minds. Whether he had even realized he’d teleported you two before you’d pointed it out. You wouldn’t even be surprised right about now; because just one tug of his thick thumb down the edge of his blindfold made your jaw drop.
Made your thighs tighten.
Made your heart race in both fear and anticipation - Gojo looked feral. Gone.
His summer blue eyes wild, bolting with power and bolts of lightning. Predatory leer painted permanently all over his prettily flushed features, and you swear you catch the glint of a thin line of saliva dripping from the pursed corners of his cherry-red lips.
And he was so sensitive.
Blindfold fully off and dangling haphazardly around Gojo’s neck, the sensations and wetly clingy texture of your dripping cunt was too much. He was moaning out sobs, he was bucking in sloppy half-thrusts.
He was shaking as if he couldn’t even control the copious piles and piles of power and strength he’d gained.
Pouring it all out into dragging his splayed-out palms underneath your thighs sensually, up n’ down. It’s almost relaxing. That is, until he’s throwing them over two broad shoulders and snapping you in half down, down, down-
Allll the way until Gojo’s prespired forehead was smooching yours, mouth half-loosened right above yours.
Bottoming out his reddened cock once more - the lecherous feeling is so sexy that with a bite to his bottom lip, Gojo’s spurting out a singular fat splatter of soppy cum inside of you once more. Feverish. Messy.
All the while staring so deeply and heart-eyed into your gaze that it makes you almost shy. You feel so overstuffed - all the way to the very brim - and Gojo was simply insatiable.
“Ohhhh, j-just look- you- ngh-” He could barely even string together the most basic of sentences, brows crinkling adorably the moment he’s sinking his veiny girth in and out of your tight hole. Every thick thud into your goopy depths making Gojo’s skin flicker with thin shards of blue lightning. “-l-look how you’re gonna make the ngh- prettiest mama, my girl.”
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - G-g-g-genius
Now Higuruma Hiromi was smart - a genius, even.
Always driving you raving mad with his sharp mouth and his even sharper strikes into your every magical orifice. He didn’t even have to think about making your cunt weep in so many different ways.
Until now, that is.
“Wh-wh-what?” Higuruma’s furrowing his brows, a scorching hot blush invading his handsome cheeks at just how pathetically he was stuttering right now. And he was sure his coworker on the other end of the phone could catch that needy tremor in his tone. “Sorry- could you repeat that?”
That sentence wasn’t meant for you - and you knew that.
But that still doesn’t stop you from digging the curves of your knees even deeper into the plush mattress, snickering. “Oh? This?” Pushing your hips back until you’re hitting his washboard abs with a stinging pap! “Wan’ me to do it ag- mmpf!”
Desperately, he’s clawing at the very crown of your scalp and pushing your face down into the satiny pillowcase.
Grunting into the phone through clenched teeth, “That? O-oh, that was my wife-” Shit, it takes every ounce of capable will in Higuruma’s body to stop his hoarse breath from hitching when your clingy walls get slipperier. Wetter. A treacly stream of slick escaping you when he gets…rough. “-she’s just driving me crazy.”
You’re arching your spine into a delicious curve, your puffy lips squeezing around Higuruma’s veiny cock until he can’t help but buck-
Mind blanking. Until he can’t help but give your head another harsh push, seething. “In the best way.”
Higuruma can feel a nervous sprinkle of perspiration trekking from his temple, all the way down to his bobbing Adam’s apple. You really were driving him crazy, and he can’t stop himself- he can’t even slow down the aching swabs he’s planting at your innermost depths.
Honestly, he should’ve expected this - taking a work call during his precious time with his wife? You were bound to toy with your husband. He just didn’t expect to be so…affected.
Thwack!
“Shit.” Higuruma’s hissing underneath his heady breath, a cloud of sweltering hot air hitting your bowed back when he realizes that his yearning body had just pounded into you the way he wanted. So badly. Heavy balls hitting the base of your gumdropping slit and making your mouth spill out in moans, “Be quiet- by quiet f’me, angel.”
In fact, you were doing the very opposite.
Your tummy was tightening in euphoric knots- yielding your hips to wring out such lustrous ribbons of his cobwebbing pre, faster. Sloppier.
“Wh-what? Shit– m’sorry.” Managing to get out all in a rushed murmur to the man on the other end of the line - and even that was a feat with the way you were getting oh-so-greedy.
You’re gasping into the cottony mouthful of pillows once you feel him trawl a warm hand all down your spine. Well-defined pecs rumbling with the words, “My wife s’needing some help- I’ll talk to ya at work, Nanami.”
It made his mouth water to see just how much you were aching and hot for him. He was so close that his plump breeder balls were just aching for sweet, sweet release.
And as soon as the phone is out of his grasp, Higuruma’s planting peck after open-mouthed peck down the middle. Making you yelp at the scratchy texture of his pinkish tastebuds taking a looong lick.
“S’a fuckin’ i-important call, sugar–” Higuruma punctures his words with thorough, pressurized thrusts that drive his sticky crownhead all the way into the very bottom of your pussy. The spanks! of his flesh on yours so loud now that it makes your ears pop. “How dare you. Don’t even know how you- fuck! Whaddaya even do t’me.”
It’s only when you’re feeling the weighty splat! of something wet that you’re reeling your head up from its cozy haven. Your husband’s lips curling into a sheepish smile, all half-lidded and pretty.
“Awww, my poor Hiromi–” You’re cooing, swiping away the responsible rivulets of drool that was spraying all over you. That tender touch for his fatly swollen ruby tip to flinch angrily, “Feelin’ all pussydrunk, my baby?”
“M-m’not–” he’s groaning. Dark lashes fluttering, flicking his puffy lids with a seam of glistening tears. He was. “I’m just…”
Out of control? Feral? Breaking at the seams?
Whichever it was, the very thought of being hostage to just how good your pretty pussy felt was making Higuruma’s heart race. Jaw dropping, head falling slack- “I just…just wanna be ngh- yours.”
Before you can even open your mouth to tease him, he’s fucking you silent. Rendering you dumbstruck only numerous repeated collisions of his rounded crownhead into where your bundle of nerves were the most sensitive. Once. Twice. Thrice. Over and over-
“M’gonna put a r-ring on it, angel.” He’s practically collapsing on top of you now. Washboard abs melting into your back, dark happy trail leaving the curve of your ass tender. “Gotta be your husband.”
You’re yelping, “Husband?”
“Mhm—-” Oh, he was serious. He couldn’t even see the golden glint of your matching wedding rings - couldn’t see past the furious ache of his cock buried deeply within you. How he wanted more. “Always- always always. Gonna be your househusband if you want- your- your anything. Jus’ wanna be yours.”
You’ve never encountered your oh-so-smart husband babbling away nonsense like this. And the stark difference is enough to make your hot core twinge. “Hiromi—”
He flinches, voice husky. “Y-yes, sugar?”
Shit- you were so close. And the way that his bawling divot streaks out long swipes down your cervix once you motion him closer is so delicious. You could feel your hole quivering for release.
Higuruma’s hand is warm against yours, as if his entire body was burning from the inside out. His hips stutter, dewy eyes widening when you reach over to intertwine your left hand with his.
“See?” Your gorgeous smile makes him whimper, metallic bands clinking! together. And Higuruma has to take one look. Two, not quite believing his hazy vision. “We’re a-already married.”
Oh.
Oh.
Higuruma can’t stop the way that’s enough to make him cum - just hearing those pretty words from your very lips. And he thinks it’s the hardest orgasm of his entire life, your own hitting you tenfold.
“My wife. My wife.” He grunts at the clingy grip of your rubbery walls, so fucking tight that he has to latch onto your waist and put a foot on top of your head to fuck you through each of your highs. Blissfully. “M’f-fucking my wife. My wife.”
And now that he’s started, he can’t stop.
You’re being so cutely vocal through every white-hot flare of bliss, the bolts of it zipping through your body at the same break-neck speed that Higuruma was pounding into you. Hot, buttery waves of cum being swashed around you.
“Ohhh, how- how did I ever get so ngh- lucky.” Sappier than the copious amounts of saccharine seed pouring out of you, it painted his tufts of black in a drenching lamination. Like a medal of honor that your husband was wearing proudly.
Even after your orgasm was bating into a few lecherous tingles, and your vision was back to refocusing. Your body still twitching with the remnants of that overwhelming high.
He was relentless.
“Sugar…” Higuruma breathes into the dazed silence, and the warbling tremor in his tone makes you follow his gaze – brows rising as it catches on his phone near the edge of the bed. His glaring phone.
Summary: Dating a women’s studies major has turned Sukuna into the frat house’s most feared feminist. Now the frat boys can’t make a sexist comment without getting a lecture, while you sit back and watch.
A/n: just fun lil thing i thought of :)
The frat house was unusually quiet, no music, no party, no sports discussions.
This was because Ryomen Sukuna was standing in the living room with his arms crossed, looking genuinely disappointed.
“Did you just call her a bitch?”
Satoru Gojo, halfway through stealing someone’s energy drink from the fridge, blinked. “What?”
“You called that girl a bitch.”
“She literally stole my hoodie after our hookup,” he shrugged him off.
Sukuna pointed at him. “And? Speak like a man. Have some respect.”
“No, seriously.” Sukuna continued. “You don’t get to call women bitches because you’re annoyed.”
Satoru stared. “Who are you?”
“My girlfriend says that’s misogynistic.”
“Your girlfriend also made you stop saying ‘females.’”
“And she was right, it’s disrespectful. Some shit incels say.”
The entire frat house collectively recoiled.
Across the room, you sat on the couch, sipping an iced coffee and watching the chaos unfold. A smile on your face, because god were you enjoying this.
This was better than reality TV.
Satoru pointed at you. “YOU DID THIS.”
You raised your coffee in acknowledgment.“Damn right.”
———————————————————————————————
The frat party was loud enough to shake the walls. Music blasted through the speakers.
Drinking games to your left, a fist fight to your right; and you were just observing from the kitchen.
And in the middle of it all, Toji was sprawled across the couch with a beer in hand.
His girlfriend was standing nearby talking to some friends when Toji waved his empty can in the air. “Hey.”
She glanced over. “Yeah?”
“Grab me another beer.”
A few people looked over.
She frowned. “What?”
“You heard me.” Toji pointed toward the kitchen. “Get me another beer.”
Before she could argue, another voice cut through the room.
“No.”
Toji closed his eyes. “…God.”
Across the room, Sukuna was already walking over.
You perked up immediately, ready for your boyfriend to set Toji straight.
Sukuna stopped directly in front of Toji. “Hell no.”
Toji looked exhausted. “No what?”
“No disrespecting your girl in front of me.”
A few people turned their attention to the potential altercation.
Toji rubbed his forehead. “I asked her to get me a beer.”
“You ordered her.”
“It’s not that serious, right baby?” He said, trying to save his ass.
Sukuna crossed his arms. “If you want a beer, use your legs, or ask nicely.”
Toji stared, “You cannot be real.”
His girlfriend was already trying not to laugh.
Sukuna pointed toward the kitchen, “Go get your own drink.”
“Or what?”
The entire room collectively leaned forward.
Sukuna grinned. “Or I’ll disrespect your face by punching it.”
You giggled. Only Sukuna could point out misogyny while trying to solve the issue with violence.
A guy standing nearby immediately whispered, “That’s the most Sukuna version of feminism I’ve ever heard.”
Toji looked around the room. Nobody was helping him. Not even a little, most probably in fear of Sukuna.
Finally, Toji sighed. “Fine.”
Sukuna nodded. “Good choice.”
Toji turned toward his girlfriend. “Sorry.”
She raised an eyebrow, suddenly she had more confidence than before. “Sorry for what?”
Toji was clearly embarrassed now, “Sorry for talking to you like that.”
“Thank you.”
Sukuna gave an approving nod. “There. Growth.”
“Shut it,” he said staring down Sukuna. “You know what? I’m getting my own beer.”
As Toji disappeared into the kitchen, the room broke into applause.
His girlfriend laughed and shook her head.
Then she turned to Sukuna. “Thanks.”
Sukuna shrugged. “Don’t thank me.”
He pointed across the room toward you. “Thank her.”
Everyone looked.
You were sitting comfortably on a stool in the kitchen; chin in hand, eating chips like you’d been watching a sporting event.
You gave a little wave.
“Kuna’s a women’s studies soldier ,” she said proudly. “I teach him everything I know.”
———————————————————————————————
The fraternity and sorority had gathered in one room to brainstorm ideas for a charity fundraiser. People were throwing out suggestions.
Raffles. Bake sales. Auctions.
Then Satoru snapped his fingers. “I got it.”
Immediately, you looked concerned, because he never had good ideas.
“We do a joint event with the sorority.” Satoru grinned. “The girls wear maid outfits and serve drinks.”
The room erupted into approval.
“That’s genius.”
“People would love that.”
“Easy money.”
Across the room, Sukuna slowly lowered the energy drink from his hand.
“Interesting.”
“NO,” Gojo yelled. “Let me have this one good idea,” he groans.
Sukuna stood. “Let me understand… the women wear maid costumes.”
“Yeah.”
“And serve drinks.”
“Yeah.”
“And what are the men doing?”
Toji shrugged. “We could do some strength challenge.”
“What kind?”
“I don’t know. Lifting something heavy.” Several people nodded.
“Classic.” Sukuna stared. Then looked at you, looking for approval to go on a rant.
Sukuna turned back to the room. “The women get assigned a service role. The men get assigned a strength role.”
More silence.
“Based on gender.”
The room collectively sighed.
Sukuna pointed dramatically. “Why.”
Satoru finally spoke. “Because that’s what people want.”
Sukuna gasped.
You smiled proudly at your boyfriend, waiting for him to call out their blatant sexism.
“PEOPLE EXPECT IT?”
“Yeah?”
“So we’re just reinforcing traditional gender roles for profit now?”
The room erupted.
“IT’S A CHARITY EVENT.”
“YOU’RE MAKING IT SOUND EVIL.”
Sukuna ignored them. “Misogyny is evil.” He pointed toward the sorority members.
“Why are they the ones serving drinks?”
One of the sorority girls raised her hand. “Honestly, I don’t want to wear a maid costume.”
“THANK YOU.” Sukuna was fully activated.
You were delighted to see how this was playing out.
“Explain to me,” Sukuna continued, “why the men can’t wear maid costumes and serve drinks.”
The room went dead silent, and you almost spit out your drink.
Toji blinked.
Satoru blinked.
The sorority sisters were stunned. “What?”
“The men.” Sukuna spread his arms.
“No.”
“Why not?”
The room burst into laughter.
“If serving drinks is easy money, then congratulations.” He slapped the table.
“The fraternity is serving drinks.”
The sorority girls immediately started cheering.
“YES.”
“MAKE THEM DO IT.”
Toji looked horrified. “Absolutely not, I’m not wearing a maid outfit.”
Sukuna leaned forward. “Fragile, typical response from men. Toxic masculinity, machismo, societal expectations.” He says pointing a finger at different men around the room.
You had your face in your hands, trying to hide your laughter. You had to show support for your boyfriend, but couldn’t handle him naming every term he could think of.
Sukuna pointed around the room. “If the costumes aren’t degrading, wear them.”
Silence.
The sorority girls were having the time of their lives. One of them pulled out her phone. “I’m ordering maid costumes right now.”
The fraternity erupted in panic.
“STOP HER.”
“WE CAN STILL NEGOTIATE.”
——-
Two weeks later, the fundraiser ended up being the most successful event in frat history.
Mostly because nobody could resist paying money to watch a group of deeply embarrassed frat bros serve spiked lemonade in maid outfits.
Toji looked dead inside.
Satoru refused to make eye contact with anyone.
Meanwhile Sukuna carried a tray through the crowd completely unbothered.
His maid outfit fit surprisingly well, as he served you a drink.
Across the lawn, Satoru was being forced to say “Welcome home, master” for a twenty-dollar donation.
The sorority was making a fortune.
Sukuna took one look at the donation total and smiled. “Look how good we’ve done so far,” he said enthusiastically.
“I’m so proud of you,” you said before leaning in for a kiss.
“By the way, I think you should bring home this costume when you’re done here,” you said; snapping the thigh high sock on Sukuna’s thigh.
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, DlLFS (and MlLFS too!), age gaps (reader and JJK men are ALWAYS aduIts), arranged marriages (Toji), cIan Ieader!Toji, sIight exhíbitíonism, sIight bóndage (Nanami), mentions of kids, bréeding, manhandIing, matíng presses, HEADLOCKS, p sIapping, p talking, spítting, fíngering, rings and píercings, rockstar!Geto, headIines, use of ‘mómmy’ (Ino), miIking, overstím, súgar dáddies, running from it, oIder men, síxty-níne, talking you through it, pressing down, making it fit, he’s BIG, counting inches, overworked Higuruma, creampíes, cúmpIay, sIight cúmfIation, pIot, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. MWAHAHAH.
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The Arrangement.
“O-oh, sh—”
“Shhhhh.” Toji’s voice is dangerous. Low. His chin was hooked into the crook of your neck - and you’re getting pushed back down, down, dooooown his-
“Oh my…” Your mouth waters, weak arm reaching out to grasp the edge of the futon.
But Toji’s guiding it to his shaggy salt-and-pepper hair. Making you tug. Making you wrench.
His other palm - calloused after what you assume to be countless years of training his Heavenly Restriction - comes up to plaster over your mouth. “Unless ya want them to hear.” He mutters, referring to the council of elders seated behind the sliding doors.
You knew it was part of the ceremony: to make sure that you and the older clan leader…affirmed your new union.
An arranged marriage, of course. The marriage of the century in jujutsu society’s highest circles.
But even after a lavish wedding, and an even more lavish title suited to you, you still couldn’t believe that you were married to Zenin Toji.
Perhaps expected considering that the two of you had met just a few weeks ago; you’d announced to your council that you were ready for marriage. And they’d then presented you with a list of all the potential candidates for husband—every eligible bachelor from the Kamo clan to the rather obscure Fujiwara clan. The list had gone on and on with their names and ages.
And at the very end you’d spotted—
Zenin Toji—Age: 38 (once divorced).
As soon as the elders had noticed you focusing on that one name, they’d dismissed you with a nervous chuckle. “Oh, that’s just Toji. Ignore him, he’s just there out of obligation-”
“But why would I ignore him?”And that had effectively shut them up.
Although what you really wanted were more answers.
Toji.
Toji.
Most of the other candidates ranged across their twenties, and they were names you’d heard of in mere passing during those stuffy clan functions. Toji, however, was beyond that age range and once divorced—and you’d heard of him almost too well. You knew him without ever knowing him.
You’d heard of the newly-appointed Zenin clan leader as he fought against every single elder to claim his rightful title as head - the first one since…ever without a speck of cursed energy.
You’d heard of the terror of the Zenin clan - or so they whispered - who could bring down battalions with a single swipe of his cursed weapons. He didn’t need cursed energy—and what they feared above all was the power of raw humanity underneath it.
But…you’d also heard of the merciful man. The first Zenin clan leader to grant his wife a divorce when she wished for it, thus leaving him printed once more upon a paper listing jujutsu society’s bachelors.
Leaving him impressioned in your mind.
Zenin Toji was an enigma you wanted to understand.
And you laughed at the expressions upon your elders’ faces as you announced that the sole candidate you were interested in was none other than the notorious Toji. You could count on one hand how many had readily agreed to your union with the older man—and that would be exactly zero fingers.
However, the meeting had proceeded as tradition dictated. Your council of elders reached out to the uptight council of the Zenins - and they’d reached out to re-confirm thrice that the man you were really looking for was Toji. Wasn’t he much older? Wasn’t he fearsome? Wasn’t he difficult to understand?
You waved off their worries and met him over a fragrant tea ceremony.
To be quite honest; there wasn’t much talking between the two of you - although the Zenin elders kept up a constant stream of chatter with the elders of your own family. Meanwhile you simply looked at Toji over the rim of your ceramic cup—and—watched—
And he met your gaze just as intensely.
By the end of the tea ceremony, you nudged your elders to proclaim your approval for a union.
And Toji nodded his own approval.
The wedding preparations were accomplished in a week. It was a wedding for the history books - you heard that your council of elders were pushing to get it written in already - and it ended off with a lavish banquet that lasted into the long, long hours of the night.
As sunlight started seeping into the horizon, you and Toji got up from your seats at the head of the table. And you made your way to the master bedroom—where rows upon rows of elders sat outside in preparation for the consummation.
They were here to hear you-
“Fuck.” You can’t stop the sudden whimper that escapes you at the feeling of Toji hiking up one of his muscular thighs. He still had his wedding robes on - dishevelled upon his frame, the graze of expensive Zenin cotton n’ silk makes you shiver—
And as soon as you do, you feel one of his large palms settle at the base of your spine.
Toji keeps you pinned down - deliciously helpless - once he reaches that upright leg forwards and rests his heel atop your scalp. Stepping on your sweaty crown. Keeping you pinned in one place as he fucks you- with a sheer audacity that makes your jaw drop.
“Careful.” Toji’s low tone trundles out. You’re bent into such a shape that it makes his cock thicker- stretchin’ out your snug channel with a sultry squeeeelch! “Keep your mouth open like that and you’ll catch flies.”
Leaning down as far as he could, he then spits.
“Or you’ll catch me.”
A few more vicious strokes that leave you gaping.
A few more changing angles- Toji was the type to not just straightly thrust. He was stirring his cock ‘round in somewhat circular motions of his hips as he pummeled inside, managing to hit eeeeevery single nerve-ended spot inside you. “And- hah, and we wouldn’t wanna explain that to those old toads, heh?” Asking you. And then…not you. “Isn’t that right, fuckers?”
There’s restless murmuring from outside.
“W-well, maybe if you—fuuuuuck.” Just as soon as you’re mid-sentence - as though Toji had been waiting for this exact moment - he reaches forwards and slams! his ruddied tip into you hard enough that you can feel him in your damn throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”
“Loud.” Scoffing. “Though I bet they already know what’s happening- hah.”
You were in utter shambles.
Toji’s cock was sensually curved towards the right - the perfect angle to spot those areas where you were most sensitive and stimulate them until you were crying. “Y-you’re so shameless—!”
With a roll of his forest-green eyes, the clan leader crouches his body further forwards and accelerates his pace. His heel pressing down even harder.
With this position he had you in, Toji couldn’t keep his palm glued to your drivelling maw anymore. And he was letting it aaaaaall out—the more n’ more pretty moans that were leaving you, the more he’s speeding up his hips. Purposefully thumping his blushin’ red tip down your most precious spots.
And as if that wasn’t enough, he’s using his free hand to sift apart your stuffy pussy. Pressin’ aside your folds and getting a good eyeful of your entrance - getting flooded with his rock-hard inches, and then emptied out for him to do it all over again. And again. And again and again and—“And who was it that decided to marry me?”
You don’t know what’s hitting you harder: the shock of being called out, or the sudden wad of saliva that he’s spitting between your legs. “Well…me…”
Toji nods. “Pretty young thing like you…for what reason could you want to marry- me-” Every space between his words was punctured with a targeted strike to your g-spot. “Money? Name? Power?”
Your head’s getting foggy - you don’t even realize that you’re drooling before Toji looks down and tuts. He watches as a slick puddle formulates underneath you—“Did you wanna marry this ol’ clan leader for power, doll? S’that what you wanted?”
As much as you could, you’re shaking your head- difficult, given the way he still had the heel of his foot on you.
“No? Then what?” Toji pretends to think. “Hmmm, could it be that your clan elders pressured you into this, doll?” And just at that moment, he stops- even though it seems as if he wanted to say more. “I’ll kill you all if—”
It wasn’t targeted towards you.
But you’re vehemently denying—“No. No. Not at all…” Sobs and sultry moans strangle in your throat, and your poor, poor hips are driving back into his as much as you could. “Please- oh, I j-just wanted—”
“Let me think.” Now that he’d started his vigorous pace up again, your eardrums were crackling with the constant pap-pap-pap! of Toji’s toned hips hitting yours. He was just so large - in every possible way, it was as though he was engulfing you with his massive body, with his shaft stretchin’ out your insides in ways you’ve never experienced before. “Is it because- haaaaah…” Toji breathes, the cloud of his heated breath wafting down your arched spine. “Is it because you knew that those other- boys couldn’t fuck you as well as I could?”
Your jaw drops- “Fuck.”
But it seems that Toji had found his footing. He drags you even harder against him - the ramming of your two bodies almost violently shaking the flooring beneath. “Is it because you knew that- mmm, this pussy would always be satisfied with me?” Whatever little jostling you’re experiencing at his movements, he’s considering it a nod. “Is it because you’d been greedy? Because you’ve been yearning-”
Somehow, he’s tipping his head backwards and managing to perfect a stream of spit down onto your stuffed cunt.
“-for someone more mature. Someone that knows how to handle a pussy, doll?” Voice dipped in lust. “Have you been yearning for Zenin Toji to fuck you properly?”
“Y-yes—” You pitch out softly. Sniffling. Seeing stars behind your eyelids. “Toji, m’so close…”
“So cum, then?” He snickers, as though it should be the most obvious thing in the world. “What’re you waiting for? Permission?” Leaning back and projecting his voice - though, not for you. “Just so y’know, I’m gonna make my wife cum.”
“Oh-oh my god—” The words crackle in your throat as a final bash to your syrupy-sweet spot leaving you careening into your high. Stars of pleasure burst behind your shuttered lids - and you’re dragged through wave upon wave of white-hot bliss.
It overtakes you like nothing you’ve ever felt before.
And Toji was only more than happy to prolong them using his length. Hitting you right when your peaks were at their highest - and if you were in the right state, then you’d wonder how he even managed to time them - and making your veins feel molten within. Making you whimper and thrash into him. Thrashing and thrashing—fucked like you’ve never been before through your orgasm.
You’re so hazy afterwards that you barely even register the shuffling outside the bedroom - as the elders started making their way back to the banquet. Mission accomplished, you suppose.
And Toji takes his foot off your head.
“Haaaaah, fuck.” He hisses. “Want to give them an encore, my wife?”
You couldn’t nod faster.
Before you know it, he’s tipping his head back and calling out - at the elders—
“Get ready for an encore, fuckers.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Parent-teacher DATING?!
“Ms. Teacher…”
Itadori’s sweet, sweet voice breaks through your conversation with one of the parents; and you’re looking down to see him clasping one end of your flower-patterned apron. Pink brows furrowed. Chubby cheeks puffed. And how could anyone resist that face?
So throwing an apologetic smile at the parent, you’re leaning down slightly so that you could hear the little boy better. “Yes, Yuji?”
He cups a hand over his mouth then leans in towards your ear as if to whisper. “I have a secret to tell you.” And he does not whisper.
Still, you bite back a giggle and ask. “Oh, really? How exciting. Do I get to know that secret, Yuji?”
He nods.
Then leans in once more-
“My papa has a big, big crush on y-”
“Yuji—!”
You didn’t have to look up to see that it was none other than Nanami Kento, Itadori’s father, pushing past a few gossiping parents and kids playing jumprope- heading in your direction. He quickly clasps Itadori’s arm and gently tugs the boy away, “I am so, so sorry—I have no idea what’s gotten into him-” Nanami pinches the top of his nosebridge with a sigh. “He seems to have gotten it into his head that I have f-feelings for you, and…”
You watch, almost astounded, as the ever-stoic Nanami’s ears burn bright red.
“A-and I sincerely apologize if he made you uncomfortable in any way-”
“Oh, no.” You’re raising your hands up and fervently shaking your head. “He didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. Did you, Yuji?”
“Yup!” Those tufts of pink hair atop his head bounce as he nods as well, beaming - happy to see that you were on his side, at the very least. He then turns back to Nanami. “I didn’t make Ms. Teacher uncomfortable, papa. I just told her what you told me-”
“Sunshine…” Nanami grumbles, though with less panic in his voice this time.
And you’re biting back a smile as you look between the handsome father and his son; it’d been two years since Nanami had adopted Itadori, according to what the man had told you when he’d first enrolled the boy in Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary. Since then, you’ve had the privilege of watching over the father-son duo as they become closer, as they found family in one another, as they opened themselves up to both the school and you.
And although you knew you shouldn’t have favorites as a teacher - you can’t deny that one of the best parts of your day was seeing the two.
Yes, the two.
It didn’t quite help that Nanami Kento was the talk amongst the single ladies and men at pick-up. Tall. Tender. With his broad shoulders and his blond hair—always slicked back, not even a single strand out of line.
Nanami was the type of man to hold doors open for students, other parents, and teachers alike - he’d happily stand there for half an hour as an entire grade passed by, if he had to.
Nanami was the type of man to not worry about what anyone thought of him as he let his energetic son paste stickers all over him, or use the play make-up he’d snagged from Kugisaki.
Nanami was the type of man to buy you a large bouquet of roses for Teacher’s Day- roses. And he’d apologized for at least fifteen minutes about not meaning any sort of innuendo, and he’d completely understand if you didn’t want to take them—you’d cut him off then n’ there by taking them with a gracious thank you. Even if others at pick-up shot you knowing smiles.
So could you blame yourself if you happened to form a crush on the man?
And hearing what Itadori had to say about it now…
“I wouldn’t mind, y’know.” You speak once you’d ushered Itadori to play with some of his friends—Fushiguro and Kugisaki had just been dropped off. And Nanami was still standing next to you, watching as his son scampered off after causing perhaps the most chaos he’s ever experienced in his life.
But ah…your voice was low enough that it couldn’t be heard by anyone around you two. Perhaps not even Nanami himself- but of course, he heard.
Of course, he heard.
He turns to you with widened eyes, “I uh…I- excuse me?”
You turn back to him with a grin, “How about coffee sometime this week?”
“I have a better plan.” As soon as the first bout of shyness wears off, he’s clearing his crackling throat and answering you. “How about dinner?”
.
.
.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuh-fuck.” Nanami wrenches between clenched teeth. His hot breath sticks against the side of your throat; and every single puff makes your skin erupt with perspiration.
Which worked for him—it just let the movements between your two ravenous bodies proceed even faster, slipperier, sloppier. Nanami has you pressed flat against his neat mattress, in a bedroom that was humble and meticulously organized - and with Itadori at Fushiguro’s for a sleepover, the two of you could let those ancient bedsprings creak as much as they liked.
Nanami could fuck you as hard as you liked.
He’s grinding that golden happy trail into your front; both palms pressed flatly atop your inner thighs to keep them open. To keep you stretched as faaaaar apart as you could go—because fuck- Nanami’s cock was thick enough that he had to pin you down n’ squeeeeeeze his inches inside as far as they could go.
Rubbin’ his prominent veins along your walls. Entire body tensing up whenever you clench-
“Fuuuuuuck.” With a heavy sigh, he’s letting his head tip backwards. And honestly—you don’t think you’d ever seen a more attractive sight.
You’ve always known that Nanami was ripped underneath those office button-ups of his - but this was damn-near Herculean. The way his shoulders were defined and pulled taut as they closed in on you, the way his chest was absolutely luscious—you almost wanted to take a bite. And you’d guessed that with energetic Itadori as a son, he hadn’t had the time to hit the gym lately.
Because there was a layer of thickness over his muscles that left Nanami softer and stronger- the soft curve of his belly pushes down on your core.
Jostling your body back n’ forth with every honed thrust.
Banging at the back of your cervix and your throat- “Fuck. It feels so good, Kento.”
“S-soooooo fucking good.” And you wonder which one of you two was more gone on your syrupy cunt: you or him. Nanami struggles to keep his damn head up- collapsing into the crook of your neck and letting out botched groans- every single time his sensitive tip slid uuuuuup your channel into its deepest depths. He almost sounded as though he was in pain as he wept—“F-forgive me, darling.”
Perking your head off the plush pillows, “What for, Kento?”
“Well it’s just…” And his foggy glasses were still on his face - which Nanami pushes up his nose bridge. “I haven’t felt this good in—forever. So forgive me if I’m a little…”
And then he’s surging his hips forwards and giving you a good thwack! with the rounded end of his shaft. Enough to make stars appear in your vision-
“-rough.”
And then it’s like the floodgates have opened.
Because Nanami’s grip on you grows hard enough to leave fucking nail marks, his sweat splashes with the urgency of his movements. “And I wanted to f-fuck you all niiiiiice and slow like this pretty pussy deserves.” Those strong arms keep manhandling you open as he shovels straight into you. “W-wanted to show you that a mature man like me could- hngh, make you feel the best you’ve ever felt.”
“But I already do…” You huff out, arms thrown needily around his neck.
Yet Nanami doesn’t seem to hear—he doesn’t even seem to register. At least, the only acknowledgement that you get of your response is the way his body flinches ever-so-slightly at the mere sound of your voice. “And yet…” Those hazel-brown eyes of his widen as they run down your body, ultimately resting where your pussy was bloated all ‘round him. “And yet, one kiss of these pretty lips and I’m done for.”
“D-done for…” You repeat - mostly because you don’t know what else to do.
Don’t know what else you’re capable of doing other than wrapping your weak legs around his waist. Your hamstrings stretch and scream; and you’re sobbing yourself as his pace seems to accelerate.
“I can feel myself…” Nanami speaks through a watery mouth. “-getting fucking addicted—shit, like some hormonal punk. I should know better. A man my age…”
“Oh- oh, Kento.”
“I should know better- I should fucking know better.” He admonishes himself - though that doesn’t stop or even slow down the feral pap-pap-paps! of his pelvis hitting yours. Through scrunched-up eyes, he’s gazing upon you. “C-can’t believe you got some old man like me-” Despite your instant protests. “-to finally break.”
After a few more sudden strikes - almost animalistic - you’re managing to string together enough syllables. “But…I don’t mind, Kento.”
And that—that might just be the one thing that makes him falter. “Pardon?” He blinks up at you with glazed-over eyes.
Nodding, “I promise I don’t mind.” In fact, you’re tugging him in with a fistful of his blond strands between your fingers. “I- ngh! want you to go even harder…if you can-”
“Of course I can, my love.” The both of you are startled by his instant answer. “I-I mean, if you know that it means I might leave a few marks and—even more marks.” Perhaps most notably on your spongy cervix, welcoming his bashing thrusts.
But you don’t mind. Like you said.
You’re nodding even harder, “Yes, please.”
So polite. How could he ever refuse?
And in the blink of an eye, the blond-haired man leans over to clasp that patterned tie draped over his bedpost. It’d gotten thrown there sometime after the frenzy of getting home - quite convenient for when Nanami wanted to throw it loosely over his clammy neck and give you the other end to hold onto—
“Don’t be afraid to pull if it gets too much.” He puffs out at you in a breezy breath.
“Too much?” You ogle up at his handsome face. You half-jokingly wondered whether the bed - and perhaps you - would be in one piece by the time that Itadori gets home tomorrow. It was going to be a never-ending night…
“Mhm, because this is going to be rough, darling.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Controversy.
WHO IS ROCKSTAR HEARTTHROB GETO SUGURU’S GIRLFRIEND? HOW CAN WE BE HER?!
GOLD DIGGER?! BASSIST OF 6EYES SHUTS DOWN MALICIOUS RUMORS SURROUNDING BEAU: SAYS THEY ARE ‘BULLSHIT’.
DILF OFF THE MARKET: GETO SUGURU CONFIRMS RELATIONSHIP OF ‘YEARS’ HE SAYS.
Everyone knew of Geto Suguru. Or so it seemed when they were screaming his name and cursing yours—everyone wanted to be with him.
Or be him.
Who wouldn’t? Thick rings. Grey-black hair. Feline smile.
A 6’2, long-haired dreamboat that just-so-happened to be the bassist of the hottest rock band on the charts right now: 6Eyes. They’d been discovered quite early on - when they’d just been out of high school, actually - and had maintained a steady presence in the music scene ever since. Shattering record after record and filling stadium after stadium. By the time you’d gone with some of your college friends to one of their concerts, they were already titans in the industry—and you’d been an instant fan.
So imagine your surprise when your friend announced that one of the security had invited your group backstage.
That was the night you’d met Geto Suguru - you’d locked eyes and the both of you had just known.
You signed that NDA. You met for dates under disguises. And you’d even met his young adopted daughters- oh, you adored them.
Several months later, when TMZ or some other site had broken the story of Geto secretly dating a fan over ten years younger than him - and that was when scandal ensued. The fandom was rabid—and you understood.
Though Geto, who was rather used to biting headlines and speculation, told you that the whole thing would blow over soon enough- you holed up in your shared penthouse. You turned off your social media notification. You tried not to turn on any celebrity news channel.
And you decided: the very least you could do is make a good first impression…
“Easy now…easy there…” Geto holds the recorder in one hand n’ the side of your hips in his other. You’re maddeningly aware of both the rolling tape and the way his puckered, pretty tip is getting guided to your entrance—“Don’t strain yourself now. Trust Suguru.”
Just the very first inch of it slipping lusciously between your pussylips and easing inside.
Geto was always so thick, donning numerous veins that creep up the sides of his shaft in zig-zagging patterns. And the sheer girth of him intruding is enough to make you gasp-
“Mmm, that’s good.” The older man murmurs with a smile- long, greying hair forming a curtain around the two of you. “Let’s try again. A little louder this time.” Before he reels his hips back the mere inches he’s squeezed inside, and then rammin’ right back in again - it sounds the loudest squelch! as you’re taking even more of him. “Ohhhh, that’s good. Maybe I can use that as the outro, heh?”
“Maybe just use it for the entire ch-chorus.” You hiss.
“Trying to take my spotlight?” Geto leans down to kiss your swollen lips- or so you think. He’s pressing his pierced mouth against yours and gnawin’ down on your lower lip.
“Scared of- mmpf. Scared of being ousted by the young new talents?”
The edges of his lips curling upwards. “A rock veteran like me? Oh, I don’t think I have anything to be scared of…”
And you can only moan straight into his greedy, greedy maw as you’re jostled back and forth. Geto’s thrusts were oh-so-merciless and puncturing deeeeep into your womb—using the smooth Prince Albert’s piercing atop his flared tip, he’s torching every hidden spot and nerve-end inside. Mazin’ around your walls and pushing into those little ridges that just made your back arch into him-
His eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles.
“Hey hey-” The only thing snapping you out of your frenzy is Geto’s sharp tuts. He stalls your restless hips by hooking his fingers into your thighs and throwing them over his broad shoulders- dragging you back into him. “Don’t run away, gorgeous—the studio session’s not over yet.”
“I wasn’t running away.” You huff.
“Sure seemed like it to me.” He grins - that silver piercing of his glinting in the dim lighting. It was the type of Cheshire-cat grin that you knew wouldn’t bode well for you…and as soon as you’re thinking about it, Geto opens his sensual mouth and spits—straight between your lips.
The wad lands softly on your tongue.
And Geto himself reaches a second ringed hand up to close your jaw- to urge you to swallow. “Remember to keep those vocals hydrated, gorgeous. We’re getting to the good part now.”
You think you could gasp at the audacity—but what’s leaving you instead are a series of long, lewd moans. Mewls. Pleas.
He’s drawing them out over and over again by hiking your thighs up his shoulders and pressing you into a mean mating press- lunging his body down into yours. Crushing your pliable self underneath him. Slashing your cervix with loooooong thrusts and his ropey precum puddling sweetly at the back of your pussy.
“Yeah- yeah, louder now.” Pushing the recorder even closer. “Louder, girl.”
“I am—oh.” With the way he was fucking you like he almost hated you - though it was rather the opposite - your sentences warble with hiccups and gasps. The lines of his veins were somehow massaging the exact hidden spots that drove you wild.
“You got this.”
“Fuck-”
“Louder. S’just you and me.” This was exactly what he wanted to hear - his favorite melody was you. “Just a bit of chopping up n’ remixing- this is perfect. Gonna sound so fuckin’ pretty to my bass.”
“Fuh-feels so good-”
“Mhmmm, I know, gorgeous. Now let the listeners know.”
Making your noise pitch upwards in volume.
After a few more strokes, he bores down at you with a thoughtful expression. “Now…why don’tcha try calling me ‘Sugu’ for the recording?”
“You want me to be sappy? Okay, rockstar.” You’re unable to bite your tongue fast enough- though your snapping only makes him even more excited.
Amethyst eyes glistening. “Oh, don’t be a diva just yet, newbie.” The older musician brings the audio recorder closer to catch your every breath, “Trust me. I’ve been in this industry for a loooooong time- c’mon now. Listen to your- heh, vocal coach—say ‘Sugu’.”
How you loved riling him up just as much as he did to you. “Then give me something good to moan for, baby.”
“Don’t test my patience, superstar.”
Though he does as you say.
You should have expected it all the same; the rockstar had mapped out every single good spot inside you. And it was with a near-photographic memory that he’s inching his length backwards- until it was just his lavish red tip lickin’ up your entrance.
Just for a second…just for two…
Before slamming into your g-spot so hard n’ suddenly that you almost sob.
Making your cunt mold to the exact texture of his circular piercing- hitting your sensitive area first, before then pushing his smooth tip into it as well. You’re feeling every bit of him—and you’re making sure that your future audiences can hear it, too.
“S-Sugu—!” You’re thrashing in his arms- and he’s crashing and crashing his hips into you. Gluing the heated, stinging pink skin of his pelvis against yours so ferally that you can’t keep up with his pace no matter how fast you’re attempting to buck and bounce.
“Oh, that one’s going in the intro for sure.” He titters.
“S’fucking mean.” You whimper as he pushes down on your lower half - purposefully, so that his scruffy happy trail scratches your clit.
“Sugu knows best.” So sweetly, he kisses your forehead—and you wonder whether the loud smacking sound that he leaves behind is more for the recorder or to make you squirm. Shy, much? “Now how about I fuck you pregnant n’ we just announce the baby on the album?”
You pause for a second - before a smile twitches at your lips. “A rockstar baby? You read my mind.”
He reciprocates. “Always knew you were made f’me.”
The headlines were sure to love this.
♡ CHOSO KAMO - MY UNCLE’S GF?!
Someone had suggested playing two truths and a lie:
You weren’t a lot older than Choso- at least in his eyes. That didn’t matter to him.
Choso has always wanted you.
He’s over that now, though.
Choso’s palms are sweaty ‘round his lightweight beer as he utters the words; words just a little louder than he intended them to be. Maybe that was the pre-game finally kicking in—but he couldn’t blame it on that, either. Had it been called three truths and a lie, then Choso would have also confessed that he was stone-cold sober as he murmurs two of his deepest secrets to the little circle of drunk college kids.
And you.
You…you’re looking at him like you’d already guessed he’d say that.
Had he really been that obvious? Choso first met you three years ago, during his sophomore year in college, when he’d gone home for the holidays—and discovered that, this year, Sukuna had been dragged home, too. Except…his uncle hadn’t come alone this time.
He’d brought along- you.
You were the one to greet him at the door—and Choso remembers his breath catching in his chest. He remembers feeling his heart bang against his ribcage. He remembers his eyes widening- and his mouth gaping stupidly as you introduced yourself.
So caught up in you, he’d been forced to ask Sukuna for your name again-
“Back off.” His uncle had scoffed, crimson eyes narrowing. Honestly - Ryomen Sukuna was the only person alive that could make cotton candy-pink hair look intimidating. “Don’t think I don’t see the way yer looking at her.”
He’d probably stammered something intelligible-
“Look all ya want- if she feels uncomfortable, she’ll thump ya herself. But you can’t touch.” Sukuna set his beer bottle down. “M’actually serious about this one.”
And Choso could see why - you were the first person that Sukuna had ever brought into the Itadori family home. You were smart. You were funny. You weren’t afraid to put the pink-haired man in his place. You were fucking gorgeous—
And…you were Sukuna’s girlfriend. Ten years older than Choso.
Which is why - no matter how badly you made his heart flutter - Choso had vowed to never, never so much as even think to act upon his feelings for you.
He just had to grit his teeth and avoid prolonged conversation with you during every family function and gathering you attended with Sukuna- of which the man was making an appearance at every single one now. Almost as though to provoke him even more.
And Choso was forced to make peace with the fact that he’d never make peace with his feelings.
That is…until the two of you broke up.
He’d heard news about it just a few weeks ago, actually- his father had said something about Sukuna being down in the dumps after you’d broken up with him. Something about not making enough time and drifting apart—Choso hadn’t heard the details, he’d been too overwhelmed with the guilty glee that’d shot through his body and made his heart pound. And then just tonight - oh, how he wished he could kiss whoever was looking down at him (but no, that was saved for you…) - Choso just-so-happened to run into you at the bar he was attending with his friends.
So of course he had to invite you over to their table.
Of course, he had to ignore your protests about being older than them all. None of that shit mattered.
Of course, he had to sit right opposite you on the table and divulge his greatest secret - one he’d been keeping to himself for three years now.
You’re just opening your mouth to respond-
When Choso’s feeling a harsh smack! on his back and one of his friends crowing in his ear. “Atta boy! You never struck me as the type to like MILFs, man.”
“Technically I’m not a MILF yet.” You giggle, fixating your gaze upon him. He almost flinches. “But you’re right…I never thought you’d be the type to like older women. I’m ten years older than you, Choso, you know that right?”
Choso mumbles almost too quietly to hear. “Th-that doesn’t matter to me…”
“Yeah- and you’d probably like that ‘ma’am’ shit, eh?” His friend guffaws, making the now-bashful Choso - whatever courage he had liquified - duck his head. “Oh- sorry I didn’t mean—”
“No, no.” You dismiss the babbling college boy. “I’m not offended at all. In fact, you might be right.”
The table bursts into wolf whistles-
And it’s a blur until you’re ragging with the banter a little more - before discreetly excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Choso’s staring up at you - totally not admiring your back like some pathetic lovesick fool - before catching your gaze and your pointed wink.
And then he’s scrambling right after you. As discreetly as a sledgehammer.
.
.
.
Nose buried into the crook of your neck. Mouth gaped wide open- letting out the sweetest crackling moans into your skin.
Choso had you pushed against the bathroom stall - clean, don’t you worry - with his arms wrapped around your body n’ his cock shoved between your legs. Dragging in and out in a way that was so messy—he’s roverin’ around his globules of cum with that fat tip of his, and then reeling his hips rapidly backwards to spray it down your walls over and over.
He’d cum as soon as he’d put it inside.
And it wasn’t his fault.
Honest!
“Oh- oh.” And now he was panting desperate breath after breath between thrusts—“I’m sorry…the condom broke, baby.” Choso’s lower lip cutely trembles as he speaks. “Can’t help it. And then your pussy’s just so warm and welcoming a-and…”
His breath hitches as he hits that one gluttonous spot that makes you clench.
“-and I just- can’t- when you’re squeezing me like that.”
Basically hypnotized, Choso’s slender fingers dip down between your legs. And so swiftly - that you’re almost surprised at his nimbleness - he pulls out of your wet hole n’ clasps his hand around his barely-wrapped length. The rubber condom had been too tight around him, and it’d shattered into a million pieces—Choso looks up at you through his doe-like lashes, and waits until you’re nodding.
That’s when he’s wringing off his broken condom and squeezing out whatever wetness it held. Pushing out the cum back onto your pussy.
Making such a mess.
Those pure-white droplets that end up splattered back down on your pussy- warm and utterly unwholesome. A sinful cover. He wasn’t leaving a single ounce wasted. “Sh-shit.” Choso’s mouth gapes wide open. “It’s all your fault…”
Just the cutest trickle of saliva makes its way down his lips - and you’re reaching upwards to wipe it away. “Awwww. Ever done it raw before, Cho?”
After a brief bout of hesitation, he shakes his head.
“I’ve never done it before.” He confesses. Your eyes widen, so he was a virgin…
“Then are you sure you can handle it, baby? No need to push yourself if-”
“No.” He gasps. Sharp. Shot-through. It leaves his lips before he even knows what’s happening- and then you’re clenching again in a way that makes his brows twist together, and his fingers dig into your waist. “No, no, no, no-” Eyes frenzied. “We don’t have to stop f’me, baby. We don’t even have to slow down—”
Cum-coated; his thickened cock gets sandwiched between your lips then jerked back and forth a few times. By now he was so wet with slick n’ sap that it was making him slip a few times before he’s actually managing to get it in again—and that, too, with your help.
You reach down to help grip Choso’s raging-hot erection, and guide it inside your cunt: an action that leaves the other man blushing down to the roots of his hair. Even his tip throbs just a little harder—“Th-thank you, ma’am.”
Your brows raise in amusement- and it only hits him then. So he was into the ‘ma’am’ thing.
“I mean- baby.” He sounds so utterly ruined. “Thank you, baby. Promise I can handle it now, m’kay?”
And oh…you can’t deny that it was just so fun to tease him. “Hmmm…I dunno, Choso-”
Chocolate-brown bangs sticking to your skin, he’s lurching his face away to bore straight into your eyes. “I-is it because I’m younger?” He asks with a hint of desperation, and your lips part as your ex’s hot nephew keeps steamrolling away with his pussydrunken mouth. Poor, poor Choso. “Because I promise I can handle it. I can fuck you- ngh, the best. Promise m’gonna make you feel sooooo—”
Choso’s hips were hammerin’ away at a pace you’d never have suspected- and his hips end up crushed against yours. So close that the scruff of his happy trail scratches your clit raw.
“-g-good.” A single tear track runs down his face - you’re unsure whether he’s talking about you or himself.
“Easy there, tiger.” You’re pushing back on a stray lock of his hair- darker now with perspiration. The sweet gesture makes Choso huffs.
It wasn’t doing him any favors, however, as that only made him look even cuter. You’re craning your neck and planting a chaste peck on his bubblegum-pink lips—only for Choso to take control of the kiss and softly bite down on your bottom lip. “Baby-” He rasps. And with just how sweet Choso had always been to you, you could’ve almost forgotten how strong he was- how easily he could bounce you down on his cock- how needy he was for you. Feral. Even though you had him wrapped ‘round your finger, he was jostling your pussy’s inside like craaaazy. “Don’t do that. Don’t baby me- I need to be taken- ngh, s-seriously by you, m’kay?”
“Oh…” You’re letting out a heated breath as his tip empties out at your cervix.
And to prolong that sensation; Choso claws his hand up and pushes on the lower part of your stomach. Right beneath where your cunt was expanding and contracting with his cock. “Feel how big I am?” He doesn’t stop putting pressure on that spot until you’re nodding - “How hard? How much I’m leaking?” Just on cue, a splatter! of precum leaks between your pussylips.
And with something like a broken whimper- Choso snakes his fingers down to push the leakage back up your channel.
“O-oh—this pussy’s so fuckin’ wet. And I can handle it- I can handle it.” He utters more to himself. The more he’s speaking, the harder and longer he’s fucking you, the more ruined he sounds. “M’not as innocent as you think, baby.”
“Oh? Do tell.” You smile.
Such a gorgeous, gorgeous smile that he almost hesitates wiping away with a roll of his thumb - stimulating the nerves of your clit. But it makes you break out into the prettiest lewd expression that leaves him rutting his hips even harder, “Do you have any idea how fuh-fucking long I’ve waited for this? How badly I’ve wanted to- ngh, stuff my cock and fuck you like an animal?” As he trails off, he feels his stinging tip start to twitch even more wildly. Dangerously. “Fuck—”
“H-how long?” You’re asking with a smug smirk.
Choso’s blinking a few times just to let the question register- and finally muttering. “Even when you were dating- him. Ever since I first saw you…” And then he rubs his thumb at an even more steadied pace, matching it to the pushes of his spearing cock. “You were wearing that red dress of yours- hah, and I could see the strap of your pretty pink bra peaking out…the one with the bows on-”
That makes you gasp.
Which Choso takes advantage of to plaster his lips against yours n’ suckle on your tongue.
“And then-” Barely managing out through kisses- through stabs of his length- through the pleasure. “And then you called me ‘baby’ as you were getting ready to leave, and I- ngh, knew you were teasing me for being younger—fuck, I h-had to run to the bathroom just to jerk off.”
Rovering his mushroomy trip straight into your nerve-ended g-spot; you’re arching into his chest as you feel Choso lose his grip on his sanity.
Already having been so loose.
He’s babbling as he cums long and hard, and oh-so-deeeeeply into your cunt. Mouth ajar. Body collapsing against yours - caging you even further against the bathroom wall. “Baby- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”
“Shit, so much…” Just feeling the ribbons upon ribbons of creamy-white sap he was emptying out. Hot. hypnotizing. Every stroke managed to hit your best spots, and every push meant your pussy was getting overloaded with his cum. The inches of his shaft were curved just perfectly enough that he’s managing to slip aside your walls and use his tip to circle and circle those webs of cum at the very base of your pussy. All over.
Soon enough, you’re feeling a layer of it make its way down your inner-thighs—and Choso still didn’t seem like he was going to stop anytime soon. You moan, “H-how can you cum this much- mmpf.”
He captures your lips in another sloppy kiss. “Must be the stamina of a younger guy.”
“Choso you’re pussydrunk.” You’ve never heard him sound so drawling and dreamy.
“Hmmmm…” He’s nuzzling the crook of your neck, leaving bite marks that will be entirely too difficult to explain when you’re going back outside. “Did you cum? Promise I can- ngh, make you cum, too…” Grazing your skin with his lips.
“Prove it, then.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 6…9?
“It’s a fuckin’ pandemic, isn’t it?”
You’re looking at your boyfriend over the rim of your book, “Excuse me?”
Sukuna was seated on the armchair in the corner of your bedroom; just having finished a video call with his brother and his nephew. The bright chatter (at least from their end) had died down some minutes ago, and they’d bid your boyfriend goodnight—which was rather the same routine for these biweekly calls. Despite how much the two of you visited, Itadori Yuji always found it too hilarious to put strange filters on his grumpy uncle.
Except, tonight…Sukuna had sat in the armchair for a few minutes longer.
Usually; he would join you in bed.
Usually; he would grumble - though with a fond smile on his face - about whatever Yuji had been chattering about before.
He was practically an honorary father to the boy, and it always made you smile to see.
Usually; he wouldn’t look up at you as expressionless as if he’d seen a ghost- as if his soul had wafted away. And ask you about some…pandemic? Did Yuji put something in his head again?
At the confused expression on your face, Sukuna was heaving out a sigh—pushing up those glasses that were totally, most definitely not glasses and merely a tool he uses to…see…better up his handsome nosebridge. Sukuna was in his late thirties, and silver was beginning to tinge the edges of his pink hair, climbing up his temples. His crows’ feet creased as he frowned at you, “The…67 thing. It’s a pandemic.”
“67 thing?” You gape, your book plopping down on the bed.
“You heard me.” He scoffs. “I’ve been thinking it’s mass hysteria- every brat at his kindergarten keeps repeating it. But there seems to be no pattern or cohesion. I thought it was just those damn kindergarteners, but the other day I even caught Jin saying it-”
“S-six…seven…thing.” You’re repeating - for no reason other than to confirm to yourself that what you’re hearing was real.
Sukuna straightens in his chair, “See? Now it’s got you—”
“Kuna, like the meme?” You’re shaking your head, “The one from the song? Oh my god, it’s not mass hysteria-”
He crinkles his nose. “The hell is a…meme?”
“You don’t know what a—” How has he been Yuji - of all people’s - uncle but still had no idea? You continue, “It’s basically an Internet inside joke- it’s been over for a while now but the kids are still obsessed with it.” Finally gripping your book once more, you level him a look. “You didn’t seriously think it was mass hysteria, did you, Kuna?”
Sukuna crosses his bulky arms and looks away. “Tch—”
And when he catches you giggling, he barks-
“What?!”
“Oh- nothing.” And from the smile upon your lips - Sukuna knew that whatever was coming out of your mouth next wasn’t about to be anything sincere.
Which is why he’s raising himself off the sofa and climbing up the foot of your bed.
You continue, “It’s just you’re getting old, Kuna.”
Joking; nothing ever riled Ryomen Sukuna up more than teasing him for not understanding some new slang or lyric.
And with how much he riled you up sometimes—you had to get back at him somehow, alright?
Soon enough, he’s pinning you down to the bed - with his toned pelvis pressing down on your waist, and his arms creeping upwards to keep your wrists pushed against the mattress. “Say that shit again. I dare you.”
You’re leaning up as though to kiss him. “Old man.”
.
.
.
Sukuna’s tongue was zig-zagging wiiiiildly between your legs- striking the soft circle of your entrance and then swervin’ as deeply inside as it could go. Deeper. Deeper.
No matter how fervently his mouth was glued to your pussy.
No matter how ravenously.
His hips rut off the bed with every single lick—and that fat, throbbing tip of his kept shovelling n’ shovelling at a synchronized pace with his tongue.
He had you twisted in sixty-nine with your pussy latched onto his lips.
Sukuna’s own cock squeezing out heavy volumes of his salty precum near your lips, then promptly pushin’ them inside with his thrusts- Sukuna was so loooong and rock-hard that he was managing to swab across every spot and directly target the back of your throat. Playing with that dangly in the back.
You’re moaning as he squeezes two ringed-decorated fingers into your tight cunt. And he grins as he feels the vibrations—“Ah ah- s’rude to talk with your mouth full.”
Just then, Sukuna’s planting a smack! on your pussy that makes you pull off of his shaft with a loud pop! “H-hey…”
“What?” He trundles. Reaching his hips up and guiding his needy tip back into your mouth, “Speak.”
All because he knew that you’d attempt to nonetheless- and it would end up with the most lewd noises being muffled into this cock. It would end up with his eyes scrunching shut, his head throwing backwards at the shocks of pleasure. “Th-thought I told you to speak? Hah- not babble. Cock got your tongue or something?”
And…it would end up with you being all huffy n’ puffy. “That’s not even f-fair…”
“Heh- fair?” From where he’d been nipping at your clit, Sukuna pulls off - just to confirm he wasn’t hearing things. He wasn’t. And though you couldn’t see his expression from this angle, you could practically hear the amusement in his tone. “What happened to me being old, huh? You surely don’t need me to go easy on you.”
“I d-didn’t say that…” You’re stubbornly answering him - though the constant drives of his fingers were driving you absolutely mad. Sure.
“Good.” And then you’re feeling two more consecutive smack-smacks! atop your bloated folds. “Because, babydoll…m’barely even started.”
In no time, Sukuna has you manhandled so that your stomach’s against the soft bed. Your back’s against his thoroughly toned front - so incredibly strong; he was bulky—with a layer of thickness to him that made your skin tingle with want - and his erect cock placed between your legs. He takes a few moments to wetten your core up- because no matter how many times you’ve taken him, you think you’ll never get used to Sukuna’s sheer size.
And before long you’re clawing onto the headboard for dear life—as he damn-near molds your tender cunt to his size. Startin’ at the tip-top of his bloated shaft, and then bouncing you down- down- down so many inches greedily.
Utterly greedily.
“Oh- oh, fuuuuuck.” Hands shooting forwards to grab onto more of the mahogany frame.
But Sukuna stops you right then n’ there by wrapping his right arm around your neck; like a wreath, your pants are immediately cut off. And his muscles bulge as they tighten—the defined ridges of his biceps pushing against your throat - it’s sensual enough to make your mouth water…“And where’d you think you’re going, huh?”
“Nowher- mmpf.” Cut off immediately by the tightening of his muscled restraint.
“Lying’s not a good look, brat.” Then his second set of fingers snakes down to spank! your stuffed pussy- right atop your bloated folds. The shockwaves that run up your spine are enough to make you buck and whine—and enough to make him drag you back into him. Again and again. “Wasn’t stuffing this mouth earlier ‘nough to teach you a little lesson?”
So stubborn. “Not at all-”
He’s spitting straight between your lips.
And when Sukuna’s fucking you; it’s with harsh, pointed jabs - scouring deeeeep into the bottom of your pussy and leaving the mark of his cockhead. That rounded bruise you feel throb-throb-throbbin’ away every time he repeats the action—he fucks you like he hates you.
And he’s only growing faster, harder by the second.
Only tightening his headlock and wrenching your body back into his. Again and again.
Over and over.
Until the globes of your ass were stinging with impact, and you’ve memorized the pattern of his happy trail. It’s practically a part of you.
Sukuna’s rugged cock knew aaaaall the right spots. Making your pupils roll around in the whites of your eyes, and leaving you wondering just how he had this much stamina still…“Awww, c’mon now.” His low voice trundles in your ears. “Get your act together, girl. You don’t wanna be this cockdrunk for someone so old, huh?”
“I-I—”
“What was it you called me?” He growls, sharp canines nipping at the shells of your ears. “Huh? What was it you called me? See, this fossil ‘ere has some trouble…remembering-”
Every syllable of his was punctured by a thorough glide across the velvety channel of your pussy- “Ummm, then in that case, I didn’t say anything?” You try your luck.
“Nice try.” Sukuna grins. “But m’not that geriatric yet.”
Another spank. “Please-”
“What did you call me?”
“I-I just meant-”
And another. “What did you call me?”
“An…old man.” You feel embarrassed just letting the words slip between your lips.
You didn’t think he could get even rougher with his movements - his shaft was throbbing, and his pelvis was smack-smack-smacking into you. So hard that you’re propelled forwards by the sheer force; and Sukuna roughly lurches you back with his headlock. “I might be an old man- cheh. I might not know all these…damn Internet memes- but I do know how to fuck this pussy right.” To prove his point, he scours in-between your pussylips to squeeze your pretty clit. “Look at her- she’s in love with me.”
“O-oh—” Eyes fluttering shut.
“I know how to make her cry with pleasure. I know how to make her- mmmngh, squeeze like she doesn’t want me leavin’…heh.” He continues muttering into your ear as his hips grow more fervent. “I know how to make her feel so good—”
Your teeth grit. “Shit.” And you recognize the twisting sensation at the pit of your stomach. “K-Kuna, I’m gonna cum-”
“And even better.” He chuckles. Gnawing at the top of your ear shell, before moving down to bite the tender crook of your neck - like a wolf catching his prey. “I might not know those fuckin’- memes like the youngsters do. But I do know how to make this pussy- cum.”
“S-sooo close—don’t stop.” You’re bouncing n’ bouncing back into his pistoning hips.
Feeling the pleasure well up. Feeling your head start to spin a little as you near your high-
You’re crashing past your tipping point. And Sukuna gives you one, two, three good strokes to fuck you through the bursts of white-hot pleasure running through your veins - before he’s suddenly setting you free of his headlock and letting you drop straight into the plush pillows.
Reeling his damn cock out.
You don’t know what’s louder: your disappointed groan or his rough cackle.
“What? Wanted this old man to be nice in bed or something?” As soon as you’re looking over your shoulder, you’re met with Sukuna’s priggish grin—his sharp canines peaking out at the edges of his lower lip.
Grumpily, you nod. “Yes? What- can’t last or—oh.”
Another smack. “That’s not gonna work on me again- sorry, babydoll.” And before you know it, you’re being flipped right over - getting your legs thrown over his shoulders and pushed into the meanest mating press you’ve ever experienced. “Because m’not letting my bratty girl properly cum until I’ve had a good few rounds to blow off some steam. And m’sure you can keep up- heh, if not…”
“And um- how many rounds might that be exactly?”
Sukuna smirks. “67.”
“I hate you.”
♡ INO TAKUMA - “M-mommy!”
AITA for seducing the HOT rich MILF (40’sF) that I (23M) pool-clean for while her ex-husband and kids were away?! In my defense, she’s reeeeeally hot.
You freeze.
Ino freezes.
The world itself seems to freeze; all except for the ruby-red tip of Ino Takuma’s cock. Shoved deeeep inside your cunt - deep enough to leave a permanent bruise there - and throbbing away wildly—he’s cumming with that particular title escaping his lips.
And then his lower lip wobbles once- twice- before he ducks down and attempts to hide his face in his arms.
“Hey hey-” Swiftly, you reach down to push his hands away - you’d be disappointed not to see his pretty expressions as you fucked him even further. All pouty lips and doe-like eyes—Ino Takuma was so pretty, and perhaps that’s what drew you to the younger pool cleaner in the first place. “What’s the matter, Taku?”
“I-I didn’t mean to call you that- honest!” He stammers out.
To which you’re cocking your head with a sly smile- time to try something. “Call me what, Taku?”
“Y’know what it is…” Ino grumbles, huffing. And when you simply continue to stare at him in slight confusion, he’s rockin’ up into your wet cunt as he speaks- “The way I c-called you—mommy- oh.” Just as you’d predicted, his velvety length jolts at the mere utterance of that title. Excitedly spurting out a few creamy-white wads of cum that glue to your cervix.
So messy. He was so fucking messy.
How ironic, considering that his entire job was to clean your pool.
You’d been introduced to Ino through one of your friends - those networks of older rich women with far too much time and money on their hands. Juggling kids and businesses. And you’d just been complaining to them over a gold-flaked brunch that your last pool cleaner had moved towns, and with your kids now entering middle school, the pool was left without use and starting to gather leaves.
That’s when they’d shared Ino’s number with you—a reliable pool cleaner. Just graduated college, and so easy on the eyes if they did say so themselves…
You’d huffed that you’d tell their husbands- meanwhile you on the other hand had just recently gotten divorced. One too many nights of your husband coming home with a cloud of mysterious perfume around him, or a lipstick stain on his collar - at least you’d gotten a good chunk of everything in the divorce!
But that was all in the past- maybe love just wasn’t for you.
You had your kids. You had your gorgeous hillside mansion. You had your hobbies and friends- men just weren’t…for…
Fuck, that’s when he’d showed up at your door.
Bright and early. Beaming with all his gorgeous pearly whites; the sweetest smile on such a killer body. Ino showed up in nothing but an unbuttoned flowery shirt and swim trunks—their lightning-yellow color perfectly complemented his slightly-tanned skin and messy brown hair. Slightly tawny from the Sun.
“Er, I hope you don’t mind.” Ino had said, a sheepish smile on his face. “I thought I’d get changed for the job before I got here.”
Mind? Mind?!
In simply what world would you mind—it took every speck of reason and rationality in you to dart your eyes away from the plane of his chest, his washboard abs. Sultry shoulders. Slender waist. There was a scattered happy trail that ran between his six-pack and- beneath his swimming trunks.
Fuck.
Instead, you focused on the tight necklace of shells around Ino’s throat. “C-come in.”
On the first day, you stayed inside - only peeking out occasionally from your bedroom window - as Ino cleaned your pool. You tipped him heavily.
On the second day, he’d told you that it was completely okay with him even if you used the pool whilst he was cleaning—and you took that as your sign. You donned a bikini you hadn’t gotten the chance to use in years, and sprawled yourself out on the nearest sun bed - making occasional conversation with him almost as an excuse to ogle him.
And if you weren’t mistaken, you’d say that he ogled you too.
But you really did discover that Ino was a sweetheart- and made you giggle like a schoolgirl, too. How embarrassing you felt admitting this!
And a part of you was almost relieved when your kids arrived home from school - escorted by their driver - so you could resume your mundane lavishness. But a bigger part of you was already yearning for when you’d see him again…
And so continued the third day.
And the fourth day.
And so on to the fifth and the sixth.
Before you knew it, Ino had been employed as your pool-cleaner for at least a month—and he’d quickly grown to become someone you and your kids were quite fond of. Even your driver had caught on, and shot you a knowing smile every time you asked him to escort Ino back to his downtown apartment. Perhaps feeling jealous of such an occurrence, your ex-husband had showed up with tickets to an amusement park - already having planned a day trip for your kids.
They’d, of course, begged to go. And so you’d agreed.
Leaving nobody inside this vast mansion: but you, Ino, and the growing tension between you two.
The only thing was, right before he left, your ex-husband had the audacity to stop Ino and snipe at him. Low and threatening. “Touch her and I’ll make you very, very sorry.”
So, of course you’d fucked Ino as soon as they were out of the house.
Squeezing your robe-covered thighs ‘round his waist—just so perfectly curved to meet your embrace. “W-we really shouldn’t be…I mean- I’m old enough to be your-”
“Works just fine for me, pretty.” He’d cut you off. Pulling on the gauzy material of your robe to let your tits spill out- fuck, he was in heaven.
Enough so that it’d taken just putting it in for Ino to cover your luscious inside in his sap. To watch the satiny liquid seep between your pussylips and leave his pelvis gleaming with a sheen. To wrench out the most pathetic calls of your name—and one particular title that made him want to get swallowed up by the Earth.
Again and again.
Ino’s cock was longer than you’d expected - and all this time, you’d been wondering where the hell he’d been hiding all that in his swimming trunks. Just reaching over six pretty inches. Just smooooth and leaned ever-so-slightly towards the left. It’s making his bulbous tip drag across every sweet spot inside you, and your thighs quiver as you take him.
Every single inch. You’re arching your back and mustering up your strength to grind your hips forwards and back, forwards and back.
Milking him—
“C’mon, baby.” You’re cooing down at the handsome man. He blinks his teary eyes open- and you just can’t help but lean down n’ kiss them away from his cheeks. “Call me ‘mommy’ again?”
“C-can’t…” Ino blushes down to the roots of his chocolate-brown hair. “It’s embarrassing-”
“But it gets me so wet, Taku.” You pout—and his eyes widen at your admission. You watch as his pupils shift down- as if making sure. “Pleeeeeeeease? Just once?”
And in response, you smush your thighs harder around him. You’re sure you leave red, red welts on his skin - but that wasn’t registering in his mind right now. Nothing was. Nothing but the smooch of your soft velvety insides embracing his cock, and the sensation of cum sploshin’ around inside you. “Fine…but only because I wanna impress you…” His breath hitches. “-mommy.”
You shiver. “Oh, I liked that—”
And he does, too, because your cunt’s just suctioning on his length as if you were trying to take his soul. His fucking soul.
The thing is- Ino would have gladly given it to you at this moment.
“It feels good- it f-feels s-sooooo good.” Tears begin to crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and Ino’s fingers dig into the sides of your hips as he bucks upwards. “Fuck, it should be illegal for it to feel this good- mommy.” And he can’t fucking help it—it echoes before he can stop himself.
“Taku, I think you like saying that more than me.” With a soft chuckle, your dominant hand ends up wrapped around his throat. “C’mon now- a little faster for mommy.”
“Sh-shut—ngh.” No matter how hard he attempts to regain control- it doesn’t work. He pushes upwards into your soft, syrupy cervix as though marking it.
After a few desperate thrusts, he asks you- “Is this okay?”
“Hmmmm…” You pretend to think - and the ruined expression on his face is oh-so-completely worth it. “How about a biiiiit faster?”
His jaw drops- but he doesn’t complain. He’s grabbing onto either side of your thighs now, and plunging straight into your deepest depths—multiple thwacks! every second, it feels like. “H-how about-”
“Just a little faster.”
Doubting himself. “Is that even possible-”
“But you’d do it for- heh, me won’t you? You’d do it to make me feel good?”
Nodding and nodding. “Yes, mommy. A-anything for you mommy—” Broken moans and pleas cycle at the back of Ino’s throat, and he’s planted his feet flat on the mattress to push himself up ravenously. “M’just here for you to use me.”
Your eyes widen - your smile grows.
“Just use me-” He gasps, face reddening as he follows your instructions. “Fucking use me like a toy. Use me- fuh-fuuuck—”
“A liiiiiittle bit—” Your head tips backwards as he’s entering the perfect pace - rapid enough to leave your thoughts stupidly muddled, but still steady enough that you’re feeling every single ridge, vein, and curve. Giving your walls such a good massage—“Th-that’s perfect, Taku.” You squeeze his pretty neck tighter, and you’re hearing him let out a little hiccup of a sob. “Mommy’s so proud of you.”
Oh, and you thought that he was ruined enough already?
You thought that he was reaching his limits?
Because after that particular sentence - oh, you’re evil for that - Ino digs his digits into the flesh of your thighs and rams deep into your womb. His pistoning cock resting there for a brief few split-seconds as he sputters—“L-let me make you a mommy all over again.”
Your breath catches. “Do you even know what you’re asking for, Taku-”
“Fucking yes.” His glazed tip twitches dangerously in a way that told you he was oh-so-close to cumming again. Again. “Yes, please- fuuuuck, let me get you pregnant. Let me make you a mommy for the third time. I-I promise I’ll be the best- ngh, dad and nothing like that asshole. I’ll take care of you and cherish you and-”
You kiss him to shut him up.
“But of course, baby.” You hum. “But you have to be quick before my ex-husband finds out.”
He’s never cum harder in his life.
Verdict: NTA (drop the fucking tutorial, OP).
♡ GOJO SATORU - Sugar, sugar…
Gojo Satoru wasn’t technically a DILF - but he was a sugar daddy.
And they called you a gold digger.
Gojo called you business-savvy.
It was a rather unique situation: the relationship between the two of you had started out as a regular sugar daddy-sugar baby relation. You met Gojo Satoru at some stuffy ol’ business function when you were the arm candy of some other businessman—one who’d been ignoring you in favor of one of his business associates the entire night, of course.
Whatever.
You’d gotten used to this routine by now - and so you’d drifted by the grazing table with microscopic clean cuts and cheeses you couldn’t even pronounce.
And that was exactly how your knight-in-shining-suit had sidled up next to you.
With two champagne glasses in-hand and a flirtatious smile upon his face, he handed you one of the drinks. Then you gestured at the businessmen you’d arrived with- and Gojo had the audacity to roll his eyes and pretend to retch. That was when you knew you’d get along.
Tall. Toned. With twinkling blue eyes—and just the slightest bit of silver creeping into his already-white hair. Gojo Satoru was as handsome as he was rich—and considering that both aspects occupied a fair share of the conversations tonight, you were rather flattered to be in his presence. Though the CEO of Gojo Corporations didn’t waste time: “Y’know, if I was lucky enough to arrive with an angel- I’d never leave her sight. Why waste time with some geezers over such a gorgeous gal?”
You smiled.
And you left that night with Gojo instead.
From the boxes of jewelries and flights around the world - to the tabloids and online speculation that couldn’t get enough of you.
CEO of Gojo Corporations finally finds love?!
Gold digger or gold-hearted: All we know about Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend!
Is it sugar baby season? The newest IT Girl’s best red-carpet looks so far—
But of course, there was always some truth to those headlines. Perhaps.
You were Gojo Satoru’s sugar baby. You were in a transactional relationship- though he never laid a hand on you. Not unless you initiated it.
So…what was it really?
You got your answer a few months into this limbo of lust—the two of you finally started dating.
And to be quite honest; it wasn’t that big of a change at first. The two of you went out for romantic dinners either way. The two of you dodged paparazzi and rumors every step. The two of you bantered and teased as much as you did anyways- the only change would be that Gojo Satoru finally let loose when he fucked you.
Though, at times, he still did like to let his sugar daddy side peek through…
“A-awwww- just look at you.” Gojo’s hands were rubbin’ furiously down his length - from those curls of white cozily decorating his base, up to that poor, pretty tip that just wouldn’t stop cumming. Up and down. Up and down.
Salty-sweet heaps of cum were pouring out of his cockhead and splashing down your front- your stomach, your inner thighs, your cunt. He watches as it creates a little waterfall effect—and Gojo reaches down to pat your stuffed pussy with his long fingers. “No matter what pretty trinkets n’ expensive lingerie you wear- you always look the prettiest covered in my cum, sweetheart.”
“S-Satoru—” You’re squirming underneath him. Hands clasping the silken sheets.
Your fingers were decked-out in diamond rings. Your lacy lingerie was tugged n’ pulled aside for access.
Around you were bracelets upon necklaces upon every piece of jewelry that your heart could desire - Gojo had taken it upon himself to empty out Tokyo’s luxury stores earlier. All for you, of course.
All to drown you in—whilst he attempted to do the same with his fucking cum-
“I fuckin’ loooooove it when it covers you like this.” He hisses- nose scrunches in a feral way as he glides his fingers across those splatters. Those smears. That ruinous mess. His favorite was to see you like this: pull out game, who? You often scoffed whenever Gojo claimed that his was unmatched. “Love the way it looks like your pretty pussy can’t keep it in-” Just another light tap on your cunt. “Love the way it looks so pretty on your skin like this—mmm, you’ve got me obsessed, girl.”
Your thighs were shaky- but not shaky enough to stop you from attempting to pull him even closer. They’re wrapping around his waist, and careening him close ‘nough to kiss your puffy pussylips with his throbbing tip. His length doesn’t stop sensitively twitching for a single second—“O-oh…greedy for more, my girl?”
“More.” Just barely managing to wrangle out. “W-want some more—”
“Fuuuuck.” He whispers underneath his breath - something so ragged in his tone. That blushin’ tip of his was twitching in excitement already, and Gojo probably doesn’t even realize before he’s slotted his still-erect length between your legs and his rockin’ away at a slow pace. “You seriously want more?”
Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation of him intruding your hole- seemingly only growing bigger every time he feels you clenchin’ around nothing. So needy.
“Yes-” You’re nodding furiously. Perhaps had this been any other time, then you’d have been almost embarrassed at your unabashed eagerness. “B-but this time, I want it inside, Toru.”
“Inside?” Gojo’s pale brows fly to his hairline. “But you’re already stuffed so full, my sweetheart.”
And then he’s smearing his fingertips between your bloated folds- teasin’ them apart and taking a good look at your entrance. He can’t help himself - he’s spitting straight into that puckered hole—and watching at the glossy wad slips down your crevice and only adds to the mess he’s made previously. You’re shivering as he runs his nimble digits up n’ down your slit and presses on your clit.
“Yes, but—” You keen, arching into his firm core. “But you never really came inside, Toru.”
“Oh…” Those glossed lips of his part.
And you’re taking the opportunity to throw your arms weakly around him- “And I want it inside this time.” Though Gojo loved teasing you with his creamy-white sap—making you beg for it at times, he’s never properly cum inside.
He always thought it’d be too soon: you were younger, after all. And a pregnancy at this point might derail your plans-
“But I want it.” Had he been babbling this entire time? The sheer determination in your eyes sends a jolt of dark-black need through him - far more primal than he ever thought possible. Far more. Gojo’s blue peripherals glaze over as he clasps his cock even tighter, as though afraid he’s so hard now that it’d fucking fall off.
“Shouldn’t fall off now.” He whispers breathily.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Gojo quickly amends. Before he uses the pointed tip of his shaft to web up those dollops of cum he’d spurted ‘round your thighs and folds—it creates a gloss of white that he thinks would suit the insides of your pussy so well (did he mention that he was the one to pick out your lingerie colors?) ‘Round and ‘round.
It devises the most sinful sounds between your legs. And your breath catches in your throat: “A-are you gonna cum inside or not, Toru? Hurry-”
“So impatient.” He’s tutting. Voice low and husky. “I hope you know that if I fuck my cum inside—then m’gonna fuck you pregnant, sweetheart.”
Goosebumps scatter across your skin.
But Gojo doesn’t let you squirm, he doesn’t let you move about restlessly- he’s pinning you down with his hips and rumbling lowly in your ear. “M’gonna make sure it takes.” A rough sliiiiiide of his length sandwiched between your cushy pussylips - drooling for him by now. “M’gonna stuff you so full that you won’t even be able to walk—” Another rough slide. A thrust. “M’gonna give you the most precious gift of all - in my eyes.”
“P-please—!”
As you’re letting your head tip backwards, Gojo reaches his hand up to and clasps your gorgeous, gorgeous face. Smushing your cheeks together in a way that was so pathetic - “Are you okay with that, pretty baby?”
You’ve never heard him sound so serious.
And you’ve never yowled an affirmation faster in your entire life—
In the next few seconds, Gojo’s stuffed rawly all the way to the hilt and is messin’ up your insides with determined strokes. Once. Twice. Thrice- he punctures through your clingy walls and hits all the best spots - memorizing your g-spot and running his flared tip along it.
And honestly, it doesn’t take much - the two of you were already so overstimulated already - before you’re feeling the wave of euphoria start to build up in your stomach already. Almost as lewd of a sensation as the clear twitchin’ mess that Gojo and his length had turned into—babbling, gasping, sobbing as he runs his fat cock raw on your velvety walls. Fucking raw.
You were going to make him an actual DILF.
“Y-you’re gonna get it now…” It’s the last thing he’s getting out before a flood of white sap enters your tight cunt. Getting absolutely drenched from the inside. “When have I ever forgone you of a gift, my girl?”
“Never—” You’re keening out. Rushes of pleasure start up between your legs- before crackling through your veins and ultimately ending up at your brain.
Hazy and startling at the feeling of him fucking you through both your highs. Thrust after thrust. Gush after gush of both pleasure n’ his milky-white cum.
Underneath the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm; you can feel his spurts of cum start to trickle between your legs. It was just as warm as your skin was getting, and creating a little puddle beneath you that Gojo takes one looks at and gasps-
“Now now, are you wasting your gift, sweetheart—?” He cocks his head, genuinely ruined.
“N-no?”
“Or do I just have to- heh, regift it to you again?”
“Shut up.”
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Ms. Babysitter.
“We have to be quiet, angel- fuck. Fuck.” Higuruma’s voice sounded ragged—
Ruined. Nothing but carnal desire creeping up into the edges of his tone; giving you a jolt, considering that you’ve known the older man to be nothing but utterly calm and collected.
He was one of the best parents that you babysat for.
One of your college friends had recommended you for the job - the hot lawyer in your neighborhood needed someone to look after his young daughter whilst he worked long nights? You were agreeing before you’d even heard the hours, you can’t deny—and despite how hasty of a decision it had been, you thoroughly enjoyed working under Higuruma Hiromi.
And being under Higuruma Hiromi…though that didn’t come until a few weeks after you’d been employed.
The first night, you’d barely seen him. Dark hair. Dark circles.
The main thing you remember was that he looked exhausted—and some strange part of you was actually enticed by the hard-working man. Especially when he was such a gentleman…
Fuck, that suit fit him so well.
He addressed you oh-so-respectfully; unlike some parents who were tempted to treat you like a live-in server. Hands behind his back. Jet-black eyes to himself as he gave you a two-minute tour around the house- you’d been thoroughly enjoying yourself admiring his broad shoulders in that suit, when a sudden call from the office meant your tour had to be paused.
Higuruma had pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. He’d sighed.
And he was out that door before you could even confirm bedtime- which hadn’t been too much of a problem, to be honest. His daughter was extremely well-behaved and didn’t hesitate to let you know.
She also didn’t hesitate to let you know that her dad was very, very single.
You let her stay up just a liiittle past her bedtime.
And then the second night, he’d apologized for his hastiness - telling you that a recent case had them fighting to prepare before the court deadline, and there’d just been so many fucking tax audits to go through.
You nodded like you understood. But what really intrigued you was when he’d told you that his daughter had just loved having you over. Though a part of you was simply satisfied that you did your job well (buttered popcorn and K-pop Demon Hunters wins again!), you can’t deny that it made your heart…flutter hearing it from the older man like this.
It made you realize that you had a little crush.
So of course, you made him a regular.
And the pay was so good that you were able to weed out your other clients to focus predominantly on Higuruma and his bizarre babysitting schedule (some nights he worked until 3AM…)—you guessed the overtime was paying off.
Though your interactions were limited mostly to the brief conversations before and after- though you never did cross your boundaries. That all came to a head when one night - about a month or two into your babysitting gig - Higuruma suddenly perked up after a late night at the office. It was 3:31AM when he quietly let himself inside the house, sighing as he finally tugged off his tie.
It was 3:32AM by the time you got up off the couch and offered him some cookies you’d made with his daughter in the morning.
3:40AM when he suddenly remembered- and suggested resuming that house tour you didn’t get to finish. And though you’d been a bit hesitant—for nothing other than the fact that you might wake his sleeping daughter up, he promised that the two of you would be quiet.
Then, finally, 3:47AM when he was telling you to be quiet in bed-
“Wouldn’t wanna wake her up, hm?” The prominent outline of his nose runs down the side of your throat - and it makes you shiver. Fuck, you always have thought that that was one of the most handsome parts of him.
A soft moan strangles in your throat as he slots his thickened tip between your folds—feeling it like this, your mind’s reeling with the question of how the fuck he’s going to fit like this.
Higuruma always did strike you as the type of man to be big; but this was enough to make your mouth water and your eyes damn-near bulge out of your skull. From here, you were feeling at least seven or eight inches of his erection, furiously hot, wrapped in throbbing red veins and having the most luscious precum dripping out from top. He seemed hard enough to fucking ruin you - just how you wanted it.
And as if reading your mind, Higuruma runs his slippery wet tip down your pussylips, and trundles in his low tone. “Are you sure you want to do it? We don’t have to rush into anything if you don’t want-”
“I do.” Cutting him off mid-sentence.
Although by the way that Higuruma’s stern lips were quirking up ever-so-slightly—you’re taking it to mean that he didn’t exactly mind. He keeps one hand underneath your ass, so that you can be pushed up into his roverin’ hips, and his other one caresses your cheek softly. “Hm, is that so…? Then I guess what I meant to say is…can you take every single inch, sugar?”
You gulp. Your eyes dart down nervously to his twitchin’, throbbing length. “Yes.”
And you’ve never been more sure of anything.
Higuruma merely horses out - “Then buckle up, angel.”
Before you know it, his round, ruddied tip is probin’ inside. Sifting your gluey walls from side-to-side before spreading you up so maddeningly open.
He spots your sweet areas with a few dollops of pre- as soon as Higuruma found himself inside you, he was fighting back whimpers of pleasure. The older man’s achin’ cock doing all the talking for him as he shovels his way in—
“Sh-shit.” Your eyes sprint to the back of your head as you take him. “Shit, you’re so big-”
The way you’re moving your hips around as though confused whether to buck right down or make him ease up- it’s just so cute. And he plants a reassuring hand on the side of your waist, “Easy now.” Higuruma hushes out, “Eeeeeeasy, angel. You can take it for me.”
“Right there—” You keen out as his flared tip rubs along your g-spot.
And although he knows what you meant, that doesn’t stop Higuruma from throwing you a ravishing smirk. Letting his second hand run down your core- “No, sugar. Right here.” He pushes down right where he knew your womb would be - that soft pressure making your walls clench around him wildly, until you could feel every throb of his engorged tip even in your brain. “And you’re gonna take it f’me, right?”
Jostling you hard with every thrust—so that you’re nodding away. Almost pathetically.
“Mhm…exactly what I thought.” He coos - so lovingly thrusting away between your quiverin’ legs. Higuruma’s skin slap-slap-slaps against yours at a steady pace, “Just a few more inches now—keep quiet, please.”
“I’m t-trying.” Gnawing down on your lower lip. “How many more?”
“Ah, just one inch…two…” And after a prolonged thrust- so deep that you swear you’re feeling it in your throat, Higuruma cracks a grin. “Maybe more.”
Five more?
Five more?
And you were already on the verge of being fucked absolutely stupid? You’re letting a groan escape you—lewd and louder than you intended- and before the realization hits you, Higuruma himself swiftly reaches over to where his work tie had been dangling off the side of the bed. Bunching it up, shoving it between those pretty lips - he couldn’t have anyone waking up now, could he?
And that’s exactly what he’s telling you: “C’mon, angel…” Shoves getting deeper and longer. Rougher- as he rams his thickened inches past where you don’t think anyone’s ever gone before. And throughout it all, the older man was so steady with you—“C’mon- c’mon. You can do this—fuuuuuck, you can do this. This pussy’s gonna take all of me, right?”
Nodding and nodding.
“Yeah? Because you’re my goooood girl, right? Taking me so well.” He continues rasping - tone pitching higher and higher as he goes on. “My good- fucking- girl—”
“O-oh, fuck, fuck, fuck-”
“You’re my goooooood fucking girl, huh?” The stubs of his five o’ clock shadow rub up against your skin. The deeper he thrusts, the hotter his body seems to become on top of yours. More and more. “Can you count how many inches m’putting in you?”
Tears flow down your eyes, “Y-yes- mmpf.” Somehow managing past the tie. “Ah- four? Five. Six.”
Higuruma’s eyes widen.
“Seven—” Your voice seems like it’s on the verge of cracking. “Eight.”
It’s just too adorable how you’re sweetly attempting to respond to him even with the gag in. And Higuruma can’t help himself as he leans in and kisses you through the tie.
It’s hot and it’s messy.
And it ends up with him smiling against your stuffed lips, “Finally bottomed-out.”
Hazily, you’re blinking a few times. It clears your vision enough for you to jerk your head down and see that it was indeed true, Higuruma had stuffed himself inside your pussy until his thick base was kissin’ your pussylips. Just the most innocent peck.
“And now…” Except…fuck, except he was reeling right back again. “-for the fun part.”
Right back until that rounded tip stretched your hole out.
Right back inside-
“Makes me wanna put a baby in you- I swear. Taking me like this.”
Realizing the depression is not seasonal is like: Wow! What a beautiful flower! The birds are singing! I sure do love spring! I think I am fundamentally unlovable as a person.
Synopsis. Name: Choso Kamo.
Age: 23
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris AKA puppyboy.
Diagnosis: He’s in rut, and who does he need? His pretty owner—you!
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, dog hybrid!Choso, hybrids AU, puppyboy!Choso, RÚTS, pheromones, sheIters, companionship programs, hybrid parks, COLLARS, Ieashes, he Iikes it (a Iot), tail wagging, possessive Choso, use of ‘mistress’, use of ‘ma’am’, PÚSSYDRÚNK Choso, first tímes (Choso), oraI (f + brief m), spítting, teaching, manhandIing, he’s just so DESPERATE to pIease you, p worship, pánty-steaIing, stepping on him, finishing early (him), stamina, fíngering, begging, asking for permission, overstímuIation, p sniffing, he’s GONE, Choso with tattoos, ríding him stupid, he’s BlG, making it fit, feeIing for it, cervíx smoochin, BIG stretches, BRÉEDING, mentions of kids, miIking him, creampíes, cúmpIay, slight cúmfIation, mátes, bonding bites, KNOTS, implied marathons, getting together, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 14.4k
A/N. Mwahahah you babygirls asked so daddy provides…
The forums online told you there was nothing to worry about.
Each with their smooth, structured message boards and those advertisements for the country’s best hybrid supplements (‘Buy your companion these chew-safe sweaters NOW!’); and their respective hybrid owners each with queries quite similar to your own.
“Hybrid has started taking my clothes [URGENT]!”
“Is my hybrid sick? Clothes disappearing, feverish, etc…”
“How do your hybrids let you know if they aren’t feeling good?”
To the symptoms that most-closely aligned with your own canine hybrid’s, the most popular conclusion by the panel of amateurs was that they were likely feeling the effects of the changing seasons. Hybrids, particularly purebreds, were more susceptible to heat and weather than humans like yourself.
And so you’d forgone the call to your hybrid specialist, Dr. Shoko, for now—in favor of helping Choso keep cool as much as possible, and supporting him through these motions.
Until today: when you’re folding your laundry and realizing that half your underwear drawer was missing.
As you’re opening up the rickety wooden drawer even further, it clatters mockingly up at you. At your flabbergasted expression—you were sure it’d been at least a third more full the last time you opened it up. At the way you’re bending down and peering in, as if expecting to see the rest of your panties and bras somehow hidden away inside.
Nothing.
You shut the drawer and straighten up silently.
The rest of your laundry sits idly at the foot of your bed, though the last thing on your mind was attempting to finish your folding. You don’t think you could’ve succeeded in doing so even if you tried.
Because you already know who did this.
Hell- there was only one other person living in your snug Tokyo apartment. It would be impossible not to be him.
Your roommate of five months.
Your hybrid.
The ever-nervous, ever-sweet, ever-handsome Choso Kamo.
You remember the day you got him as if it was yesterday: that phone call that changed everything. The massive hybrid shelter in your neighborhood had been holding an adoption program; in which humans could sign up to be caretakers and companions for hybrids freed from large-scale mills and facilities that raced to churn out the most purebred hybrids. All shapes and species—from the deep underbelly of having a society where humans and hybrids co-existed.
Mostly temporarily, of course - until the hybrids chose to pursue jobs, education, and whatever else it is that they wanted to do.
Tokyo JSH (Jujutsu Shelter for Hybrids) wasn’t just a simple rescue operation; but their territories spanned far and wide from medical facilities, to rehabilitation, to temporary homes, to this current matching program that let the public get a more hands-on method to volunteer. Led by Ieri Shoko - a caracal hybrid herself - it was one of the most famed for their sheer number of hybrids taken in and reassimilated into society. You yourself had volunteered for JSH on a few occasions.
And having a soft spot for hybrids, you barely thought twice before signing up for this new program.
The registration process had been long and tedious - though you didn’t blame them. Columns upon columns of forms to fill out. Towers upon towers of medical checks for you yourself. They investigated your apartment, they investigated your job, they investigated your personality and ability to house a troubled hybrid temporarily—until they could get back on their feet.
And even longer than the registration process had been the waiting process.
It’d been months- almost a year before you heard back from the shelter - and by then, you’d begun to think that perhaps they hadn’t found you suitable after all. But then…then it’d happened.
Then you’d been rung by none other than Dr. Ieri Shoko herself.
The fuzzy-eared doctor had asked you to come into the shelter the very next day, if you were still up to it- and of course, you were up to it!
Spiffed and spruced. Smoothing down your best outfit - for you did want to give a good first impression - you were outside the doors to Tokyo JSH before they’d even been unlocked. The teenage employee in charge of opening those double doors had shot you a strange look as you waited patiently for them, but that didn’t matter—you were about to meet your newest roommate.
Of course, you were aware that it wouldn’t be all sunshine and daisies and- and whatever else the saturated infomercial playing on loop inside the shelter lobby showed. But at the very least, you hoped by the end of this, you’d be making a lifelong friend out of this - to help someone without expecting anything back…if not a friend then you hoped you’d at least be making a change. And that’s why you were here.
Dr. Shoko had entered the shelter not too long after the infomercial’s 50th loop.
She seemed somewhat surprised to see you here so early - no doubt the first volunteer she was seeing for the day - though her effortlessly composed features didn’t betray a thing. You, however, were feeling a churning amalgamation of nervousness and excitement that you’re sure showed.
Though she was kind enough not to point it out, “You’re here early.” And with that, you were being led to the separate patients’ ward.
The air was thick with saline and tension—and the acrid smell of adrenaline. Bed after bed. Each one had their white curtains drawn, and out of respect you didn’t dare peek inside - instead you kept your eyes fixed firmly on where you were going.
So much so that once Shoko stopped in her tracks, you almost bumped into her back.
Hastily, you looked up to find that…this, too, was a bed obscured by thick white curtains. Only, that was where the similarities between this hybrid and the others stopped: lost in your whirlwind of thoughts, you hadn’t realized that Shoko had led you to the sole bed at the end of the hallway - the one at least twenty-five meters away from all the other hybrid patients.
Solitary. Silent—no hums or growls that emanated from beyond the opaque partitions.
Sectioned off, almost.
It made you wonder just what sort of hybrid - you looked at the chart hung up at the foot of the bed - Choso Kamo would be.
According to the other notes on the chart, they were a dog hybrid like most of the others here—Canis lupus familiaris. And to be more specific, Choso was said to be a Great Dane.
And though you had better manners than to engross yourself in someone else’s medical chart, you couldn’t stop your eyes from wanting to read even further. Quickly finding out other such details like his gender, his age, his height (6’4 was to be expected as a Great Dane hybrid…but nonetheless absolutely massive), and even his rescue from-
“An underground fighting ring.” Shoko told you in a measured tone, and you’d picked up on the fact that she didn’t want to disturb the hybrid inside those curtains. “It’s not often that we’re able to rescue hybrids from fighting rings- alive, that is. Though they remain our toughest problem.”
Your mouth felt parched, “I…I see.”
“This hybrid was lucky—he was said to be their top fighter. But no one lasts long in an underground fighting ring.” She looked at you solemnly, “No one. And before we proceed, I need you to understand what you’re getting yourself into. I know how much you love helping hybrids - I’ve seen you ‘round here almost every week - but I need you to understand that Choso might not be the easiest companion.”
You nodded seriously.
“It’ll take him some time- and on some occasions he might even lash out.” Shoko gestured to the other beds - namely the distance between them. “We’ve had to separate him from the other hybrids as well.”
You looked from them and back, “But surely he’s not dangerous-”
“No.” She shook her head, “He’s hurt. He’s powerful. But most of all, he’s highly intelligent.” Her ears twitch, and there’s a small quirk at the edge of her painted lips, as though a smile—“All he needs is some love and care, and someone kind enough to wait for him…which is exactly why I chose you.”
And how could you not help Choso Kamo after that?
So she’d peeled back the curtains and oh…and inside had been perhaps one of the largest hybrids you’ve ever seen. One of the most magnificent.
Even for a purebred, Choso’s drooping ears were covered in the darkest, glossiest coating of chestnut brown. They’d perked up even before you’d entered - no doubt hearing every single nervous breath you were trying to regulate - and they stayed on alert even as he caught sight of you. His sharp canines made an appearance. His powerful tail whipped.
And yet, even with his features twisted into something unwelcoming, you found the wind knocked out of you at the utter beauty of his features.
They were prominent and pretty. As though carved by the most delicate of hands: those slightly downturned eyes of his, the pertness of his mouth, those high cheekbones.
There was a glint of something unforgiving in the depths of his chocolate irises, however, as though weathered through the years. Something honed.
Sitting up on his bed, his gaze narrowed as you entered his space- and a slightly feral growl had left Choso’s lips. His toned body was naked beneath the clinical blankets, and he gripped them as if he was ready to fling them off and attack-
You slowly took a step backwards - something other than fear. You understood how it felt to want to be alone for some time.
And sitting on the empty bed beside him, you waited in silence as he realized you weren’t here to attack—and leaned back into his crisp mattress. Though he still looked slightly wary of you, you didn’t hesitate before introducing yourself and launching into a conversation - rather one-sided at the time, but a conversation nonetheless.
Shoko had smiled and left the two of you alone for now. Meanwhile you spoke of your day, your job, the weather outside and- did he like the food here? What were his favorite foods?
Despite the fact that Choso didn’t answer a single one of your gentle questions, you weren’t deterred. And it wasn’t long before you’d looked up at the clock on the end of the hallway—and realized that it was nearly past visiting hours. Choso himself had seemingly come to the same conclusion, as he watched your eyes drift back to him.
And you’d only had one more question left for him.
“Do you want to come with me?”
And he’d given you a single, short answer—in a deep baritone that sounded as though it hadn’t been used in years. “Yes.”
From then on it’d been a short few hours of paperwork - much shorter than your initial registration - to get Choso officially situated in your apartments. In a week’s time he was discharged from JSH and gathering his sparse belongings (nothing but a broken collar) to move in with you in your Tokyo nook.
Your first outing together had been to buy him all sorts of new clothes and necessities and a collar - something that you didn’t think Choso would like. But Shoko had recommended you get one, just in case.
And so there had been a pretty, pink-colored collar with your name on it—fitted to Choso’s size—jostling around at the bottom of your shopping bags as you dragged the Great Dane hybrid from store to specialized hybrid store.
The first day had been a little awkward…you introduced Choso to the guest’s bedroom that was now all his - and he’d locked himself in there for about two days. Only coming out once he’d completely and fully immersed himself inside, once he’d finally gotten used to the sense of a place—a place that was his own.
Following had been a blurred few weeks of attempting to get used to one another in this limited space. Choso himself wasn’t all that bad of a roommate, to be honest - he’d spoken to you in bits and pieces whenever he felt like it, gathering up after himself, and letting you know whenever he liked your cooking. And you scoured for these interactions like a man in search of an oasis in the desert, after prolonged summer after summer, after prolonged heatwave after heatwave.
You weren’t even sure why you were drawn to him so much- sure, Choso Kamo was one attractive being. Especially when he was walking around the apartment after a shower, in nothing but a slightly-dampened towel…
But more than that—he was just so damn sweet.
You came to understand that the more you found out about him.
It started off small: the charred attempt at preparing breakfast for you in the second week he was here, the shy way he’d tug at your collar - despite being such an intimidating size - whenever he encountered another dog hybrid in public. He followed you around everywhere—everywhere. He waited right outside the door for you whenever you went to work.
And come to find that…Choso wasn’t the strong, seethingly silent type you’d initially assumed at all. He was smart. He was funny. He was such a sweetheart.
Soon enough, once he’d opened up to you in the coming months, you’d come to find that Choso actually loved sappy romance movies (and he cried at the end every time), Choso loved making little treats for you whenever you were down, Choso loved cuddlin’ up to after a long day at work. Perhaps it was unconditionally true what they say about Great Danes being ‘gentle giants’ - because Choso Kamo was the gentlest giant of them all.
And after five months, the two of you were what you could honestly consider good rommates—good friends, actually. Though the housing situation was meant to be temporary until the hybrid was able to get a place of their own - and/ or wanted to - you could honestly see yourself living with Choso for the rest of time.
Who would have thought?
Though the collar still sat collecting on one of your cabinets. You hadn’t brought it up, and Choso - despite eying it from time to time - hadn’t asked, either.
Everything had been perfect—that is, until about a few weeks ago when your clothes had started disappearing.
It started off with a jacket here, a bracelet there, and then something you couldn’t ignore - an ugly Christmas sweater from the last holidays (that you honestly weren’t upset to see go). And you could’ve let it slide had it been limited to these souvenirs that you wouldn’t mind never having to think of ever again.
But your underwear?
Not only was it your underwear, but it was about half your entire drawer? Perhaps even more so? All those lacy black numbers n’ those matching sets, all those expensive lingerie you’d treated yourself to and even a few of those grandma panties with holes in them- you couldn’t help but wonder just what your hybrid needed these for…
Nesting wasn’t as common for dog hybrids, right? Besides, Choso had a perfectly comfortable bed that you knew he loved and adored.
To be honest, there was one person in the forums who’d suggested that perhaps those aforementioned hybrids were veering into ruts and heats- though, they’d gotten downvoted to hell.
And though you’d considered the possibility…that certainly wasn’t the case this time, right?
You’d read up on the matter prior to meeting Choso, and you knew that that particular period occurred every two to three months for a hybrid. But in the five months since getting to know him, and since worming your way into his good graces, Choso had never shown any indication of a rut.
Not even the slightest glimpse of it.
And that was certainly alright - some hybrids simply didn’t have certain proclivities, or perhaps their pheromones didn’t overtake them as such. But your question remained: if Choso hadn’t started his rut then, why would it start now? There must be another explanation, surely.
And so you’re still mulling over the possibilities as you’re trudging your way to him- knock-knock-knocking on the door to his bedroom. Choso opens the door instantly - as he always did when it came to you - and you’re somewhat taken aback at the sudden…shirtlessness that you’re bestowed with.
Clearly fresh out of the shower.
With his long hair untied, wet tips reaching his broad shoulders- with glistening droplets of water slipping down his hairline and down the middle of his chest. With a tattooed No. 1 on the sculptured ridges of his right v-line. With his toned chest slightly panting—at the sight of you.
Choso’s flushed lips part-
“Cho…” At the sound of your voice uttering his cute nickname, Choso’s long tail immediately starts wagging. And you’re finding it hard to keep the sternness in your voice, “I didn’t disturb you, did I? I just wanted to ask whether you wouldn’t happen to know where my erm- underwear disappeared, would you?”
And at that- his eyes go slightly wide. “U-underwear?”
And you’d almost have been fooled by the innocent blush that spread across his cheeks…if it wasn’t so damning, that is. “Yes. Underwear, Cho. Where is it?”
“And you’re asking me—?” He pleads.
“My panties didn’t just grow legs and walk, Choso.” You cross your arms with a sigh, “They’re not magical.”
“…I think you’re magical.”
Somewhat catching you off-guard—“You can’t just-” And you feel something flip at the pit of your stomach, “Don’t think you’re going to wiggle your way out of this, okay? I need my underwear back before tomorrow- unless you want me to go to work pantyless-”
His canines slip out with a growl, muscles rippling as he shivers. “Never.”
“Then you better- return them.” You’re wagging your finger strictly at him, to which he lets a sheepish smile escape.
He places a hand on the top of the doorway - a gesture of nervousness, surely. “Y-yes, ma’am.” That little nickname you’d told him time and time again not to use—why so formal? But you can’t help but notice the bulge of his swole muscles, still dappled in the dampness of the shower.
And to hide the flip in your stomach - again - you’re sighing and looking away from the vision of Choso before you.
You could still hear the fervent wagging of his tail.
“Wanna go out for a wal-”
“Yes.”
.
.
.
“Okay- ready, Cho?” Slipping your shoes on, you turn towards the hybrid that stood at the edge of the threshold.
Choso was never the type to be leashed whenever the two of you went on walks - you suppose that came with his seeming distaste for the collar. He’d meander along beside you, and though you’d been nervous about losing him the first few times, Choso had proved himself to be loyal and steadfast by your side. Never wandering off too far, even when he was exploring in the hybrid park.
And right now—he was shuffling shyly. “Y-yes…”
You frown, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing-” He replies hastily, putting on his own shoes and getting ready to follow you out the door. But even so…his eyes drift beyond the threshold. “It’s just…”
“Hey…” You’re lowering your voice- and the tension bleeds out of his shoulders as you reach out and gently hold onto his arm. “You can tell me anything, y’know?”
And that’s what makes him finally muster up the courage- “I want to put on the collar, ma’am.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
And who were you to say no to that?
And it feels as if you’re walking on air as you go up to the cabinet and pull those glass doors open - taking out that pretty, pink collar you’d bought specifically for him. Slightly dust-bitten. Yet its heart-shaped pendant glimmers in the sunlight, your name etched onto there—Choso dons that name proudly as you’re fastening it onto his pale neck.
“Tell me if it’s too tight, alright?” Its metal buckle hisses coldly against his nearly-feverish skin: was he heating up?
That prominent Adam’s apple of his bobs- “Mhm…”
Before long, the two of you find yourselves walking down the summery pavement; it was a beautiful day and the balmy breeze kisses your cheeks. Clouds frothing. Birds twittering. You’re humming at the feeling of warm sunlight on your skin, contrasted by the unfamiliar coldness of that looped handle of the leash in your hands.
The thin, chain-linked length sways just a little—leading up, up, up to the collar wrapped around Choso’s throat. It lets off a metallic sound that melds with the bustling noises drifting from your local hybrid park - you hadn’t had Choso for long before you found out about this place.
And ever since about your second or so week with him, you’d been going there almost daily. With Choso being so naturally shy, it was a good place for him to make friends and interact with someone that wasn’t just you—and bit by bit, you’d gotten the privilege of seeing him open up. Hell, he even had a few regular friends there. And by now, he looked forward to the park just as much as you did- except…today, Choso was pulling back a bit.
Not as though he wanted to leave, but as though he always wanted to be half a step behind. No matter how much you slowed down your own pace for him.
“C’mon, Cho.” You’re gently pulling on the grip of his leash, and yet it doesn’t give away anything. “We’re a little late, your friends will be leaving soon.”
He doesn’t answer.
“Choso?” Your fist tightens around the leash.
He doesn’t budge a single inch—in fact, he seems to slow down even further.
“Choso, come on-”
And then he’s letting out the softest, sweetest sound that makes you stop directly in your tracks- “N-ngh—” Something so unexpected. That you can only turn around and stare at him.
Choso fiddles with the zipper on his jacket, eyes downturned- and yet, you’d be able to make out that cute blush of his anywhere.
You attempt to take a peek at his expression, “Something wrong? D’you wanna go home, Cho?”
He shakes his head. “N-no…” And the fidgeting with that metallic nub grows even faster, Choso’s feet shuffling on the smooth, grey sidewalk. “It’s just…keep going at your own pace, ma’am.”
“My own pace? But isn’t that a little too fast for you today?” You probe.
And he nods, “Yes…” Barely even a whisper, “Keep doing that- k-keep pulling on my leash.”
Electricity zaps down your spine at his tone- oh, his tone. Currents of it leaving your mind a little fuzzy, and curdling somewhere between…
Choso raises his nose up into the air to sniff— with his honed senses, and you couldn’t start tugging on his leash fast enough. “A-alright then.” You weren’t sure to exactly what degree his senses were honed, but you didn’t doubt he could smell even the wetness of your cunt - it’s exactly why you’d tampered down proddin’ away at yourself with your vibrator after he’d moved in.
And then he stalls so you pull once more-
“Fuck-”
And you look towards him instantly, “Shit- I’m sorry. Did I pull too hard, Cho?”
“No-” He shakes his head immediately, “No, not at all.”
The tighter it was, the better.
The air feels more humid than it had once been—so much thicker. It’s enough that you feel like you can finally breathe only once you catch sight of the hybrid park; those swooping slides and those green, open spaces. Slides and tunnels. Stores and pathways.
You’re reaching up to unclip his leash, and Choso lets out a sheepish smile as he stops you. “I-I want to keep the collar on, is that okay?”
You’re stunned. “That’s perfectly alright, Cho.” And so you watch his tall figure stalk towards his usual group of companions, your name sparkling on the pendant between his collarbones. Perhaps you should ask him about this sudden change, but…you decide not to push it for now - perhaps it was still the weather that still had him all out of sorts.
Deciding that you’d join him in playing just a little later - at least when your knees weren’t feeling as weak as they do right now - you sit down on one of the benches overlooking the park. It makes you smile to see Choso laugh and talk with his hybrid friends—such a stark difference from how he’d been when you first met him.
You were proud of him.
“Hey, Choso’s wearing a collar today?” A sudden voice makes you look up—and who else would it be but the ever-charming Kusakabe? You’d met the older man on your first visit to the hybrid park - and you were sure you’d been such a sight: awkward and standing by the edge of the park, a towering unleashed hybrid at your side, both of you unsure what to do.
He’d been the one to reach out to you first- asking you whether you wanted to join him and his smaller, more welcoming canine hybrid. That had been the first time that you’d seen Choso interact with another hybrid without bearing his fangs.
As a much more experienced hybrid owner than you, you admit that he’d helped you smoothen your journey as a new companion—vastly. All the best spots to eat here. All the hybrids to be steered clear of due to their aggressiveness. So it was practically routine to run into the dark-haired man during your days at the park, and so you flash him an easy smile. “He is, isn’t he? New development.”
“Pink. Looks good on him.” Kusakabe nods approvingly, arms crossed. “Everyday he surprises me.”
“Right?” And with a chuckle, you’re holding up the slender chainlink leash. “Though if he chooses to continue then I might just have to get something stronger…”
“Oh, I know just the place-” And Kusakabe sits down right next to you on the bench - thigh against thigh, arm against arm. You’re unable to say anything about anyone’s personal space before he’s pulling his phone out and gesturing for you to lean in—“There’s this shop downtown in Shinjuku I go to- the best discounts. It’s right beside the convenience store and the-”
And as soon as you blink, Kusakabe is ripped from his seat next to you.
And before you crouches Choso.
Though not as you know him. Not at all.
Choso bears his piercing canines and lets out a rumbling growl; muscles of his back shifting, body panting, claws protruding—and though you couldn’t see his face, you knew it was contorted into something of utter murder. And you weren’t sure whether this was just your imagination due to the tension of the incident…but did he seem somewhat…bigger? Veins popping. Back hulking. There was almost something…animalistic about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on- other than the fact that he was scarin’ off the others around you like a guard dog. He lets out another rumble of gnarled words and it’s enough to make every hair on your body raise.
“Stay away.” It’s about all you can make out.
You stand immediately, heart pounding. “Ch-Cho?” You reach towards him.
“Stay away.”
Was that really him?
He repeats.
And then he repeats again.
And he repeats and he repeats- as if crazed. Kusakabe pales and wastes no time creating some much-needed distance between himself and the hybrid.
He bumps into his own cowering hybrid.
“Choso-”
“Stay away from my mat-”
“Choso- enough.” And you finally manage to pull him back - he doesn’t even seem to register you beside him for a brief few seconds. Not until you force him to just fucking look at you—
And then - only then - do his claws retract, and the sharpness in his eyes fades just a little bit—turning into their usual chocolate-caramel brown once he turns them towards you. You look into his dilated peripherals and wonder whether he was really the same hybrid as just a few seconds before.
Choso Kamo could easily overpower you, but he’s pulled by your arms easily.
As you look around, you’re realizing that almost everyone in this vicinity of the park was staring at you. The hybrids nearby had their ears lowered. The owners were tugging on leashes of those same hybrids that refused to move- seconds away from danger and they were too afraid to move. Kusakabe himself was blindly reaching for his own companion. Hell, even the birds seemed to have stopped fluttering about—as though summer itself had been paused for this sudden feral coldness of your sweet Choso. You can’t help but let a shiver run through you as you imagine just what might have happened if you weren’t there to stop him.
Choso would have torn that man to shreds.
Without thinking twice, you loop a finger underneath his collar and pull him away- not even bothering with the leash anymore. Fuck…his skin was just feverish. “C’mon.”
And for the first few tugs, Choso doesn’t respond—doesn’t dare to tear his eyes away from the trembling Kusakabe. But then you’re saying his name once more, “Choso.” He jolts as though hit with a thousand volts of electricity- and you’re quickly pulling him out of the park. Not even a second glance at the mess you’ve left behind, “We’re going home.”
He quietly responds from beside you, “Yes ma’am.” In a voice so heated.
Collar tight on his neck.
Tight. Tight all throughout your speedy walk back home—even afterwards. And once you’re attempting to reach up and free him of that restraint- Choso flinches away from your hands faster than light.
Starin’ straight at you with his dazed, darkened brown eyes he holds the buckled lock of the collar and crushes it with his bare hands.
Crushes it so that it cannot be removed.
.
.
.
“I don’t know, Shoko….” Nervously gnawin’ on your lower lip, you pace the hallway outside Choso’s room. Her response comes out as languid and reassuring as ever- but you can’t help but cast a concerned look at the closed door. Locked. “He’s just never acted like this—”
“Aggressive?” Comes her question, “Why, it might just be because of the increasing temperatures that hybrids-”
“No, not just being aggressive.” You struggle to articulate, “It’s just he’s being so…”
Because it hadn’t been just the collar incident after you’d gotten home from the park. Almost immediately afterwards, Choso had rounded the room a few times- alert. Alarmed. For a second there, you almost thought he’d caught onto a whiff of something else entirely—before he’d grabbed one of the throw pillows on your couch and rubbed his swollen scent glands down its puffed surface.
Scenting.
Scenting was the act of coating an object, hybrid, or person in the pheromones of a hybrid; it’s said that they often feel more comfortable in a space if it reminds them of their own scent.
But to this extent?
You’d gotten used to Choso scenting the apartment during the first week of your cohabitating, but right now it was as if he was attempting to erase every single shred of evidence that anyone else had ever been inside this apartment.
No one but him. No one but you.
That laptop charger that your coworker had touched last week? He’s gliding the smooth surface down the side of his throat, and replacing that scent instantly. That cushion your friends had sat on the last time they visited? That hair tie you’d washed with a different shampoo than your usual? Even the damn jacket that Kusakabe had brushed up against on the park-
That one, in particular, Choso was ripping away the scent most fervently.
Until the apartment was saturated with his soft, sweetened vanilla scent.
It smelled like a bakery here.
Concerned, you’d attempted to then coax Choso into playtime- he refused. The first time he’d ever refused to spend quality time with you—not even when you’d pulled out his favorite axolotl toy. Thereafter he’d been draped across your living room couch for hours on end, panting, sickly; the only times he’d moved was to disappear into the bathroom every fifteen minutes. And each time he came out more and more feverish than before - flushed down to his chest, trembling just a little. Hands pressed between his thighs. What did that…
When you’d finally insisted that perhaps the two of you go see a doctor, he’d disappeared into his bedroom and refused to come out.
Not even when you’d knocked.
Not even when you’d called for dinner.
And you were two steps away from begging- but instead you’re regurgitating your woes to the ever-trustworthy Dr. Ieri Shoko.
She listens to your day silently.
“Now, I don’t want you to worry…” Of course, the only thing she was doing by being so evasive was making you worry. “-and this is just a suggestion, of course-”
“Anything.” You’re pleading, “Just- anything that’ll make him feel better.”
She hums, and even through the phone it sounds knowing. “Have you ever considered that…” Somewhere in the distance, your hallway clock tick-tick-ticks away—and it feels as though your stomach flips just in time with its clanging announcement of the hour. “-perhaps Choso might be in rut?”
Breathless, “What?”
You hear the flipping of pages - presumably notes - from her side of the call. “It seems that in our care, Choso Kamo was yet to experience a rut. And from what little information we were able to gather from his previous…accomodation, the same can be said for there.”
“I thought Choso couldn’t get ruts?” It’s surprising that your voice manages to be so steady.
“Perhaps so.” Shoko answers, “But that is merely a medical assumption.”
Your brows furrow, “W-what are you saying?”
And she sounds as sage as ever, “What I’m saying is that there is no evidence to suggest that Choso can experience a rut-” You’re just about to open your mouth in agreement. “-however, there is no experience to suggest the contrary, either.” More flipping pages—“For all we know, the lack of a rut period for this hybrid could be a result of the high-pressure environment that he’d been placed in since his mature years. We’ve certainly seen as much- though, I never did think that this would be such a case.”
And you just about can’t believe what you’re hearing—“Wait- so you’re saying that Choso can experience a rut…all because he’s finally feeling comfortable?”
“Safe, is the more likely option.” She corrects, “Though comfortable isn’t incorrect, either. As well as open, happy, attracted-”
You reel- “Attracted? To who—?”
There’s a slight pause.
“I might be no optometrist-” She deadpans, “-but rest assured that I’m not blind.”
A sudden rush of something in your veins—“A-and what can I do to help him through this…rut?”
“At this stage? Find him a mate.” Shoko answers, and there’s shuffling from the other end of the line. “Or be his mate.”
You’re speechless.
“Good luck!”
A tone rings. The call is over.
And you’re left alone in your Tokyo apartment- alone with the massive puppyboy that was in the throes of his rut.
The door feels taller - more intimidating - than you remember it being when it’d been nothing but an empty guest’s room. But now it had meaning to it…it had someone inside that you cared about. Cared about to an extent that perhaps you never thought you would—fuck. Before you know it, you’d been standing motionless outside Choso’s doorway for a few minutes.
And you’re sure he can smell your heady wetness from inside.
And once you’re jolting back to your senses, you realize that your legs had lugged you as clooooose to it as you can go - had already put a hand on the doorknob that you don’t remember putting there.
You twist it open.
And the wave of pheromones that hits you is enough to bring you to your knees.
The flurry of vanilla sweetness, of the sunshine of early morning, of the warmth that comes from days spent at the beach—it all envelopes you like a whirlwind set to devour you whole. First it’s taking presence in your lungs, then your brains, then your cunt. Quite literally- you grasp onto the wooden beam of the doorway in an attempt not to embarrass yourself.
But you don’t think that Choso was in the presence of mind to care.
You don’t think he even notices you enter at first.
He’s buck-naked on top of his bed. All twisted up in slightly-dampened sheets, he looked like a Renaissance painting; with his meaty thighs spread wiiiiiiide and his angry red cock throbbing between his legs, with his entire body covered in a thin sheen of perspiration, with his tail not even wagging anymore, with his pinkish mouth parted and letting out the prettiest whine after whine as he fucks up into his fist.
Up and up.
Again and again.
He still has his collar on him.
Every muscle in his nearly-Herculean body twitching as he does so. Abs tensing. Biceps bulging—
Dribbles of sap explode from his tip like a damn fountain- leaving his hand glistening in layers of sticky glue-like substance. Shaft pulsing in the air. Heavy balls twitching once-twice- If it isn’t just the filthiest sight you’ve ever seen…he cums.
With the most pornographic cry of your name falling from his lips.
And from the puddle right below those ruttin’ hips of his, you wonder just how many times he’s cum to the thought of you before.
Choso gliiiiides his palm down his aching shaft to drag out his high. Again and again.
Pump after pump.
And it’s only once those sticky white droplets of seed have petered out that he’s finally attempting to crack his eyes open. Long lines of tears glimmer down his cheeks, and you think he just looks so pretty whimperin’ out your name as the last few ropes of his cum empty out of his cock. Letting his sweaty head slump back against the pillows, Choso’s chest heaves as he attempts to catch his breath before—
Oh- and how is he supposed to catch his breath when you’re standing there - so beautiful and fuckable - in front of him? Jaw dropped.
Unbeknownst to himself, Choso’s tail starts wagging.
Unbeknownst to you, your thighs are pressing together.
And he lifts his sensitive nose in the air once more taking—one sniff, two sniff. Like cherries. It’s all he needs to register in that hazed brain of his that you’re completely and utterly soaked through those panties you weren’t wearing.
He wasn’t exactly doing anything lewd, but you think you’ve never felt more exposed.
Pulling down the hemline of your short, short skirt, you gasp- “Ch-Choso.”
And he flinches.
As if you’re struck him down to his very core—there’s something carnal there that shifts within Choso’s eyes and obscures anything of the sweet hybrid that you knew. His body trembles as he heaves to a stand beside the bed - and it’s just then that you’re realizing that in his rut, Choso was much bigger than you normally knew him to be. He was taller. Bulkier.
Just as he had been at the park, it’s like a more base part of him had taken over. Invaded.
Those claws of his drag down the soft covers of the bed and tear it to shreds without even trying- and you start to wonder what that might just mean for you…
He’s oozing power you knew he had- you knew he had, but never knew he’d think to harness as he crosses the bedroom in nothing but three strides.
And he kneels before you in a shorter amount of time.
Kneels.
Like it’s where he was always meant to be, beneath you like this, those capped knees of his strike the carpet with two thuds! Hard enough that it should hurt a normal human, though not even the faintest glint of pain registers in Choso’s eyes - so dilated now that they were almost completely engulfed in blackness.
His milky thighs squeeze around your calves. Which inadvertently means you can feel his cock grow even harder than before…
From your feet, he’s peering up at you with an expression akin to worship—clammy fingers grasping desperately at your skirt. They’re sliding just beneath - where his feverishly hot skin sizzles against your own - and a sudden pang of neediness shoots through your every blood vessel.
The air in the room suddenly feels hotter. Sweeter.
And you’ve always wanted Choso Kamo, but those pheromones he’s jetting out makes you feel almost dizzily greedy to feel him-
“Ma’am…” Choso’s voice quivers out—husky. But it wasn’t in the way that made him sound demanding- no, it was veering on the edge of an unsteady pleading. His unfairly handsome face cocks ever-so-slightly to the side, and he’s looking up at you through his loooong dark lashes. Puppydog eyes. “-permission to eat you out?”
You’re nodding so rapidly that your head bumps against the wall you’re pressed up against- hips bucking towards him, and he only yearns even closer with a whimper. “Yes—” You’re uttering out, “Yes, pl-”
But you didn’t think that Choso Kamo would ever make you beg for him, did you?
Hell, he should be the one begging—just to taste you. Just to sniff your pretty pussy. Just to tip his head slightly backwards and let those ropes of clingy sap leak down his tongue aaaaaaall the way down to his throat. His pheromones leave him in gusts, rendering the hybrid more n’ more ruined every time you’re blinking down at him. “Permission to swallow, ma’am?”
“You may.”
You witness the exact moment that Choso Kamo tastes you on his tongue for the first time.
Because his powerful, hybrid tail starts to wag harder than you’ve ever seen it. Because he groans. Because a primal noise escapes him that sounds like the most erotic music to yours eardrums—“Fuck.” Choso’s eyes go slightly wide. “Fuh-fuck…”
With the wettest, most lecherous plap! that mouth of his drops even further ajar. To plaster more of you across his maw.
You’re the sweetest things he’s ever had the pleasure of smelling- with or without pheromones.
His Adam’s apple bobs with the wads of your pussy’s needy juices slippin’ straight into his gullet. Pressing himself so close to you that he’s physically unable to breathe through his nose- Choso wastes no time before clawin’ onto both sides of your hips and plastering your sticky, syrupy pussy all over his mouth.
Just wide open.
Hot, open-mouthed kisses.
“Sh-shiiiiit—” Gasping, your hands snake down to grab onto Choso’s sweaty locks. They were practically pitch-black with perspiration by this point, making it slippery for your hands to tighten around and place the slightest pressure when tuuuuuugging-
Choso fights with everything left in him to not dig his claws into your pretty thighs and drape your thoroughly wet pussy across his mouth. He mewls, “N-no.” His kisses grow more fervent. “No, baby…”
Eyes just a bit teary from the sudden stimulation, you’re wondering just what it is that poor Choso’s huffing n’ puffing about. And that’s the instant you’re witnessing the dog hybrid lean up onto his haunches and jerk his toned hips against your legs. That reddened, throbbing erection of his crushing against your calves.
It’s the only bit of friction he can get- and the only bit of friction that he needs to spurt his webbed seed all down your skin. Splatterin’ some against the wall and even down himself—he’s making such an utter mess as he cums just from eating you out.
That, too, with merely a few sultry licks.
Whimpering.
Choso’s head throws back with an echoing sound, lips wobbly oh-so-cutely as he drenches your heated flesh with his gooey sap. It forms a layer of warmth that you don’t get too feel for too long-
Because the man himself is draggin’ his roughened fingertips down the dredges of it and stuffing every ounce he can gather between your legs. Straight into the sinking divot where your hole was, Choso makes sure to retract his fatal claws as he slides his lacquering layers down your pussylips. Painting gloss after gloss of creamy white.
Pheromones were just soaking into the air, making it so heavy.
And that ruddied tip of his tongue slips out and starts lavishin’ away at your messy slit. Just so fucking messy.
Despite his tail wagging away at the lewd sight, he can’t keep the regret out of his tone. “I c-can’t believe I’ve cum.” He utters out a breathy pant into your cunt. “I can’t believe it—”
“Awww- s’okay, Cho.” You swear you see his cock twitch at just the slightest mention of that nickname falling from your gorgeous lips. “It’s probably your first time, huh?”
“I-it is.” Your poor puppydog nods.
“Then it’s alright-”
“But I wanna be good for you, mistress.” And even more sinful than that title was the way he was looking up at you with the most agonized tearful eyes—“I-it’s all my body’s telling me to do…” As Choso’s huffin’ away, the edge of his lower lip jutted out into the cutest pout. His brown brows furrow as he focuses on chastely pecking your hole—and you’re hit with the understanding that he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. By now he’s rutting against your calves like a dog in heat - and it would be incorrect to say he wasn’t. “I wanna please you.”
“Is that soooo?” You’re crooning out- and he shivers. Reaching the edge of your foot out, you slide up the lined muscles of his left leg - ending up pressed between his thick thighs.
You step on Choso’s rock-hard erection with your foot and he all but cries-
Humming to yourself, “Then act like it.”
He gasps, “Wh-what?” And though he was in disbelief - his ears waste no time pricking up.
Your heel crushes his hot, dribblin’ erection- “Awwww, didn’t hear me, baby?” Harder. As he bucks his hips and lets out a sudden yelp, you’re pulling his handsome face up to yours—“Why’re you giving me kitty licks if you’re a dog hybrid, huh? Why don’t you eat me out…”
Hooking your non-dominant leg over his shoulder.
“-like a good boy then?”
And then you’re swervin’ his head just sliiiightly to the side—and helping him open up the puffy slit of your pussy and ease his tongue inside.
And all it takes is one push - just one push - of Choso’s flattened, ridged tastebuds- for you to clench around him. The most goopiest feeling.
Enough to make a hybrid addicted.
“Oh…” He barely has enough space to breathe let alone speak- any and every breath he has left in his lungs is spent parched over your cunt. Choso slips his fat tongue past your first ring of muscle—and you best believe that his extra-specialized hybrid tongue was tasting every droplet of your slick up close and personal. Savoring you - his bleary eyes roll to the back of his head. He’s feeling the velvety squeeze of your walls as he dives in and out, in and out, in and out.
In and oooooout- and thrusting ravenously all the way back in again.
“Shiiiiit-”
His eyes widen at the effect that he - he - seems to be having on you. “D-does this feel good-”
“Shut up n’ eat, baby.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He was just so obedient.
Not having much experience but swabbin’ the friction of his tongue wherever he could- as fast as he could. Tail wagging as fast as he could. The crowned edge of his tastebuds dig against every orifice inside you, as fast as he could.
And you’re swearing that the way he’s fucking you with is tongue feels almost…animalistic in nature.
Choso’s grip fastened tight upon either side of your squirming hips- and the tips of his fingers twitch as though he was having trouble keeping his claws back. Rugged grunts leave him with every slip n’ slide. Chin plastering against the bottom of your pussy—his handsome features scrape-scrape-scraaaape every inch of you from the end of your cunt and all the way up to the tip. Where your clit was throbbing and needy for him.
He’s whining at the feeling of that pulsation against his face, looking down innocently at your sensitive nub. “D-do I touch you ther-”
“Fuck, yes- you touch me there.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Fuck.
You’re directing your inexperienced hybrid. And perhaps it was the pheromones that were making your body looser than ever-
But you’re wielding that ruthless restraint you have on him and bucking straight against Choso’s open mouth. As his tongue slips into your hole at a constant pace, you’re making sure that that handsomely big nose of his isn’t going to waste either - just grinding down on the mostly-straight line of it. Your favorite part was that lil’ bump that he had around the middle, it’s where your clit felt its primal pangs the most satiated.
As Choso eagerly pushes his face between your tremblin’ legs and laps and laps his thick tongue away. Textured tastebuds. Sizzling against where you were most sensitive.
And you might not be a hybrid with those keen sensibilities to know what every single pheromone puff meant- but what you’re feeling right now in his sweetened fragrance was nothing more than utterly content. Pure gluttony.
He was droolin’ down both sides of his mouth and only push-push-puuuushing his face even deeper. “Please-” And his swollen mouth lolls stupidly open- probing his tongue inside to the maximum, to the very hilt of his wet muscle, and even then he grinds his face deeper like he wanted even more. “P-permission to have even…ngh, more, mistress?”
“More?” Your eyes damn-near bulge out of your skull- Choso was already wolfing you down like a man starved. Fucking you with his tongue and gyratin’ his nose across your clit.
Thirsty for every pearly droplet of slick you’re spraying out, his brows press upwards and he’s fixing you with the most convincing puppydog eyes you’ve ever seen. Hell, even his scruffy ears start to droop- “Please, mistress?”
Muttering underneath your breath, “I swear if you were any other…”
And how could you ever deny him that?
Oh, your hybrid was just so spoiled- but that was a problem for later. Right now, all you can think of doing is reaching down and hooking a finger in that pink collar of his—he keens as you’re using that to puuuuull him even further upwards, nose-deep between your legs, and sputters.
Rolling your hips faster and faster - you were just so glad that you had the upperhand with his collar now. Because every time that Choso even pulled away to gasp out his unsteady breaths- you’re hauling him straight back.
“What’s the matter, baby?” You’re cooing down at him, letting his flushed face crush against your pussylips. Leavin’ such a lecherous smear of your pussy’s slick across his features, “Didn’t you say that you wanted more?”
“I did- I do.” He’s whining, hips starting to rut once more. Just so teary and guttural with all the stimulation - your pussy was just ruining him, and it really didn’t help that those rut pheromones left him in an even more dire state. Choso sloshes your slick ‘round with his tongue and sobs at the searing restraint you had on his collar, “Wanted more- ngh, wanted to taste your pussy more, ma’am.”
“Then—?” Just so mean now. You tug on his collar again and make him shiver as he’s whimpering, tearing up, bucking like an animal—so overstimulated on being used. “What else does my good boy want, huh?”
“I-I’m your good boy?” Those tear-filled eyes of his are just so pretty, and they’re blinking a few times before Choso even realizes that you’ve asked a question. He hastens to answer before your tugging grows even more insistent - though he really doesn’t mind the pain…“I just wanted permission to…”
“Yeeees?”
“J-just to…”
And you’re peering down at the poor hybrid: his powerful tail is still now, and his pheromones were slowly becoming more and more maddened. You’re seeing the way his long fingers tremble where he’s holding you—edging juuuuust the slightest bit closer to your core…
“Permission to finger me-” You smile down something sinful at him, “-granted.”
He gapes, “Th-thank you, ma’am.”
“It’s a hybrid-eat-pussy world, right?”
And those slender tops of his fingers have no trouble just sliiiiiding a few inches inside- filling you up enough that his digits fill up every single orifice. Every single nook and cranny. He’s thrashin’ around inside, letting the curved tops of his fingers prod and poke away—
“Can smell you getting e-even wetter when I reach for…ngh- here.” He’s muttering out in a slightly breathy tone- slightly crazed. And the sweeter your treacly cunt jets out pheromones, the closer he’s veering towards that one spot-
Choso babbles, “Can smell you the sweetest…around here.” Through his shaggy bangs, you see those brows of his furrow- “Can smell your pussy wantin’ me to go…”
And then he’s hitting it.
“-here, ma’am.”
Unlike the sudden surges of pleasure that were almost knocking you to the floor, Choso was just looking up at you so innocently as he pumps his lengthy digits towards the very back of your pussy. Striking splat! where your g-spot throbbed—before he’s pushing inside and inside to scrape damn near your cervix.
Fingers so long that you think he could reach that spongy layer if you really wanted him to-
“D-deeper, Cho…” Your mouth waters at the delicious zaps of pleasure running through your veins. Your head throws back as they only seem to increase with every passing second, and you whine. “M’so close—deeper.”
“Close?” He breathes out, as if in disbelief.
And you best believe that Choso was running his poor fingers ragged doing exactly what you’re asking - he’s scrubbin’ up every ounce of space down your walls, he’s leaving your g-spot feeling raw at the constant whacks, he’s sure the skin of his knuckles was reddening at the impacts but—but he doesn’t even fucking think to slow down as Choso fucks n’ fucks your pussy stupid.
He could feel himself going stupid, mouth latched ‘round your pulsating clit and moaning. “Please cum.” Babbling, “P-please cum…need to make my mistress feel good-”
“Shit, and I really do feel good-”
“Need to be a good boy and give her pleasure-”
“Already doing so much, baby-”
“Need to make her cum—” Tears spilling down the sides of his handsome face, he looks up at you with pouted lips. Quivering, “Permission to make you c-cum, mistress?”
You tug on his collar - this time, high enough that you can bend down and press a chaste peck on his forehead. “Permission granted, Cho.”
And it’s just then that Choso’s reeling his fingers properly back - all the way till those rotund ends - and pushing straight into the deepest depths of your pussy. Directly into spots you perhaps weren’t even sure you had—perhaps your cervix. It certainly felt that way.
Deep.
And suddenly you’re shattering all over the hybrid’s fingers n’ mouth - something that Choso realizes before even you yourself do. His nostrils flare at the sudden peak in your stewed cherry pheromones—like the trumpets denoting the opening of those pearly gates.
Suddenly your legs tremble open and you’re gushing your orgasm down his ready tongue.
Jaw ajar, he lets you riiiiiiide your waves of bliss through and through his mouth. His handsome features. Your hands being a permanent fixture in his hair now, “P-please…” Blabbering away as the dopamine renders you more loose than ever, “Feels so good, Choso—”
Those ears of his perk up, “Yeah?”
“Feels so good- hck!” Sparking all over with pleasure. “Shit- it might just be the b-best orgasm of my damn life.”
And it really was.
You weren’t just saying this to soothe his rut - those sudden jolts and sparks, the way that he’d prolong them so much by massaging your bundles of nerves…it was the best you’ve ever felt. Choso just keeps swervin’ and swervin’ his knobbly fingertips against that pulsing target of your g-spot, in sloppy tandem with the slurps of his mouth suckling away on your clit. Again and again.
Draaaaaagging out your euphoria until it seemed like it couldn’t go on any longer- then pumping a fresh few waves of electricity into you with the sudden hits at your g-spot. Again and again.
“Mmmm, I’ve been a good boy then.” He murmurs deep into your cunt. And it’s only once most of the haze clouding your mind has cleared up - by the time that your orgasm has diminished into nothing but a few tender jolts - that you’re finally registering the way Choso’s hips were still humpin’ away against your body.
The way that Choso crushed his large, sculptured frame to yours and rutted into you like a dog in heat- “Been- been such a good boy. Can this good boy get a…”
He bores his pleading eyes up at you.
Feverishly flushed.
“-treat then, ma’am?”
You’re riding out the last of your high on that very handsome face, and you gasp. “But of course, Cho.”
In practically no time, you’re finding yourself helping Choso Kamo stand up- yes, you were the one to help him stand up.
The powerful hybrid was just too pussydrunk on you to even stand straight—being readily moved in the direction of the bed. Pheromones heating up. Rut intensified. Choso’s clamoring onto the mattress on your command, letting himself fall backwards against the pillows and half-hide his face against their puffiness.
His dewy mahogany eyes peek at you as you shrug off your clothes and join him- stopping right between those long legs of his. “Wh-what are you going to do, mistress?”
“Give you a little payback, of course.” You’re winking. And without further ado—you’re pushing apart his slightly-jittery legs; almost miles long now that you were seeing them from this angle. He was flushed all the way up to his inner thighs, highlighting the spattering of freckles that he had upon that skin.
From here, you could see his rock-hard erection even better - sure, you’d been given a proper show earlier. But this?
This gave you the opportunity to admire eeeeeevery single detail up-close.
The sheer rose shade at the crown of his shaft, the way it graduated down to the prettiest pink on his hilt. No wonder he liked that collar so much, it looked so similar to the color of his…
The veins upon veins that made the most beautiful patterns down his cock - they curved and overlapped in a way that made your cunt throb. The way his dark curls spattered him all the way down to his swollen hilt—Choso was mostly well-groomed, though he didn’t seem to have had the sense of mind to trim these days. But you almost…liked it like that.
The way he was not only blessed with incredible length, but incredible girth, too—perhaps even bigger now that he was in rut? But you’d always imagined that Choso would be the type to have a massive cock anyway, it’s always the silent ones who do…
The hybrid watches - looking as though he wanted to tear his eyes away from a vision so lewd but couldn’t - as your pretty face looms closer n’ closer to his throbbing erection. Fuck, he might just be longer than your damn face…seeing it compared like this…he can’t help but let his tail wag ferociously.
“Now now, Cho.” Your stern voice breaks through, “Settle down now or I won’t be able to-”
“S-sorry!” He stops immediately.
And you grip the base of his red, thickened cock. “No interrupting me.” Hard.
“I understand…” Choso whines, body startin’ to arch off of the mattress - though he holds himself back for the most part given how he wasn’t sure how you’d react. Would you punish him? Would you like it?
Whatever his frenzied mind had been fearfully conjuring up, it’s all wiped blank by the feeling of you surging your head down and gulping up the first few inches of him. Happily.
First, Choso’s mouth drops.
Then, the sensation of your wet tongue on his cock hits him.
Finally, he’s planting his feet at the edge of the bed and bucking- gripping onto your scalp with his hands. Bucking. And bucking. And bucking—he cries out, “Oh f-fuuuuuck, ngh—” Just a few tears of overstimulation leaving the sides of his eyes, “Fuck- ngh, this is what it feels like?”
Of course, you certainly couldn’t respond due to your mouth being full - but that doesn’t stop you from looking up at him through your lashes and winking.
The thickness of his cock fills up your entire mouth, pulsating in a way that was incredible. The creamy layers of pre that topped his bulbous tip tasted almost…sweet? Almost like salted caramel - and you didn’t know whether that was you or the pheromones talking.
“Fuck-”
You’re just starting to give Choso a few gooooood, loooong bobs of your head—up and down. Up and down. Slobberin’ your entire mouth from the top of his mushroomy tip and about halfway down that incredible length.
But that’s around when the hand at your scalp grows almost searing.
And you’re looking up to find Choso shaking his head after only a mere few seconds of you giving him a blowjob- “P-please…any longer and m’gonna cum.” Which had just been too good for him.
You pull yourself off of his fared tip with a pwah! “Aaaaand?” Still kissing him down there.
“And I want to…ngh, save it.” He admits, eyes not meeting yours.
“Save it?” You’re cocking your head in confusion, “Save it for what, Choso?”
“Well…”
“Answer me, baby.”
“Yes, ma’am—” The dog hybrid looks up at you with a slightly pouty expression, “I wanted to save for when I f-fuck you…”
Your jaw drops.
There’s a slight silence in the room- though the sudden heated increase in pheromones does enough talking for the both of you. And you’re wasting no time before removing yourself completely from his cock—he ruts.
Before pushing those hips of his right back down.
Before shuffling up the king-sized mattress to straddle either side of his thoroughly sculptured hips, feeling the curves and divots of his muscles there.
Before perkin’ your hips juuuuust behind you and catching Choso’s globular tip in your entrance- slamming your cunt down as far as you could take him.
You’re sucking in a harsh breath as the first heated inch of him enters your cunt—shit, he really did feel as good as you’d imagined. “Fuck.”
The pointed top of his shaft probin’ inwards.
Zig-zagging veins massaging up against your soft walls.
The throbbing of his shaft creating a vicious drumbeat that you find your pounding heart synchronizing to- you’re throwing your head back and arching your hips to get more of him- and right now it seems like you were the one that was finding yourself utterly ruined on his body.
Your hands find themselves slitherin’ right up his toned body—right past those ripples and curves of his muscles. Ultimately resting on top of both his pecs, “Fuck, Cho.”
“Mistress…” He pants out- lips meeting yours in an open-mouthed kiss.
With a low snarl, you’re absolutely melting into his embrace. It’s barely anything of a kiss and more like Choso was bearing his canines and glide-glide-gliiiiding them dangerously down the front of your cracked maw. Just the slight softness of his actual lips peaking through and gluing against yours ravenously, “Choso-”
“Mistress.”
“Choso- you feel so good.” Before you know it, Choso rams his strong hips up - plunging his achingly hard cock - just the slightest few inches until he suddenly stops. But not because he’d bottomed-out. It’s as though he’d been completely and utterly ready to pound your silly cervix raw- but jerked himself to a stop out of nothing but pure will and the need to-
“G-get permission.” He mutters between trembling lips, words coming out as nothing but a few slurred syllables - each one melting into the last.
And as you’re blinking away the haze in your eyes, attempting to make sense of him, you ask. “Get permission? You want permission to- ngh, fuck me, Choso? You know you already have it…‘
He shakes his head. “Not…that…” Sounding as if he was on the very verge of ruination just from the way he found himself stuffed inside you—not moving a single inch. But still ruined.
The pheromones in the room heighten, and Choso’s tail swishes agitatedly.
“Then what is it?”
“It’s something far, far dirtier…” He admits, and despite his words there was the shyest blush upon his face. And you swear his cock starts to throb even harder at his utterance—going to the extent that it felt like Choso was damn near about to explode- “It’s where I- hngh, fuck, it’s not something that a hybrid like me deserved to even imagine about you, mistress.”
As though he couldn’t even stop himself - his hips were moving in the slightest ruts up and down now. Up and down. Up and down. Barely-there grinds that almost felt more lecherous than just fucking up into you.
His tail starts to wag once more as Choso starts rubbin’ his tip against the roof of your cunt. Forgoing those rational desires of his to not fuck you until he gained permission for…whatever it is that he was too afraid to admit. Those pinkish lips of his quiver as you’re starting to clench around him—“I-it’s nothing something I deserve…but fuck, how many times I’ve thought a-about it…”
“Then tell me.” You’re humming ruthlessly down at him. His eyes slightly widen at the commanding tone of your voice - surely, you must know that he could never deny you when you speak to him like that? “That’s an order from your master, baby—”
He shivers. “A-an order?”
“Tell me what it is that you’ve been thinking about for so long.”
Choso’s slick-wettened cock slips in just a few inches deeper, and he whimpers something inaudible.
“What was that?” You’re leaning down to hear him better.
His lips moving mere millimeters away from your own, “I-I’ve always thought about- ngh, almost ever since the first time I saw you- fuck, it was like th-this animal desire in me…” Big, bulbous tears collecting at the edge of his right eye, Choso finally jerks his hips up—“Permission to breed you, mistress?”
Oh—
That ‘yes, baby’ is keening out of you faster than you can register it leaving your hips.
And that’s all it takes for Choso to succeed in bottoming-out, that’s all it takes for Choso to dig his strawberry divot against the edge of your cervix, that’s all it takes for Choso to fully n’ properly start to fuck up into you like an absolute madman.
Arching his back against the mattress.
Higher with his hips, lower with his shoulders: he runs his pumping tip across every inch of the roof of your cunt—even deeper, and then stirs his fattened length around in search of that pretty g-spot he’d been troublin’ so much not too long ago. Pump after pump.
Probe after heavy prooooobe of his geysering orifice- you’re feeling your toes curl at the sensation of being so full with him. Warm and heavy inside you. “Permission granted-” You gasp out.
And though he’d already heard your affirmative answer from earlier, it makes Choso swell up just a liiiiittle thicker at his circumference. Snaggin’ against the sides of your elastic walls, he’s filling you up like nothing before, just so plump n’ puckering up at every nook…especially around the area of his base that seemed to be growing at an even faster rate than the rest of him…
But you have no time - nor ability - to count away at the feverish throbs and stretches of Choso’s cock right now. Right now, he’s runnin’ his tip against the side of your g-spot until that pretty inner lining of your walls bulge with his sheer size—
“Permission- oh.” You’re throwing your head back in sheer pleasure, seeing white burst behind your eyes. “P-permission…” Sounding as though a broken record-player, “And for how long have you wanted this permission, baby?”
“Too long.” Choso cries out. Hands trembling upon either side of your hips, “Been wanting this pretty pussy for w-waaaay too long- as far as I can remember…was just impossible when I was smelling her sweetness all the damn time.”
Your heart races, “And how long have you been wanting to breed me-”
“Always.”
And after a few more probes n’ a sudden clench—from your sopping wet walls, Choso whimpers and tucks his head into the crook of your neck - where you’d assumed that humans had their scent glands.
His heavy balls thwack! the globes of your ass cheeks when he drills his cock inwards, “I’ve n-never had a rut before…” He admits, “It just never felt like the right time. But this- fuck, primal part of me always wondered just how pretty you’d look all round and glowing a-and…pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” You breathe.
“Pregnant with my pups.” Choso babbles out. Those doe-like eyes of his kept on rolling to the back of his head every time he’s feeling himself being clenched juuuuust a little tighter than usual. Dark brows furrowing. Hands tightening. “Wondered just how much your- hah, pretty tits would grow even more.” Mouth lathering over your right tit, he suckles—as though expecting milk to come pouring out already. “Wondered just how sweet your milk would be, mmmm…”
“And what else?” You huff. But the hybrid’s just so dazed on your pussy and his rut and your pussy that it takes a firm tug on his collar before he’s back to his senses.
“Huh- oh—” Choso blinks his teary-clung eyes back open, peering around the thickly-scented room as though he’d just forgotten where he was already. “Wondered just how many people would stare at you as we w-walked down the street, me on your leash…”
“And why’s that?”
“Because just how many of them would think that it’s me—” Out-of-breath. Voice a couple octaves higher than usual - utterly gone. You didn’t have to feel the steadily-increasing sloppiness of his cock to know that Choso was losing himself - thwack! thwack! thwack! “Just how many of them would think that it’s your poor, shy puppyboy that fucked you all pregnant, mistress?”
“Shiiiiit—” Your legs were starting to tremble - and whether because of fatigue or something else entirely, you’re unsure. But Choso immediately snakes his fingers down just a little lower to cup either side of your ass, and he’s using his immense strength to support you as you start bouncing back down onto his merciless thrusts. “Keep going-”
His eyes grow wide, “P-permission to-”
“Keep going, Choso.”
And who was he to go against his mistress’s wishes? Especially when such wishes was something that he’d been wanting to do since the day he fucking met you—fuck, perhaps even sooner. It was always in that carnal part of him that he’d been trying to ignore ever since the first time he smelled your beautiful, addictive scent outside his bed at the clinic. Those curtains were useless - he already knew that you’d be the most beautiful thing he ever laid his eyes upon.
Like cherries, syrup, and sex.
And right now he was fucking into the most beatiful thing of all- your thighs press against that No. 1 tattoo on his v-line, and you’re keening.
Arching your back so that the roooough curvature of his cock could stir up your insides even more than he already was- and that was saying quite a lot already. That ridged pattern of his veins were bumpin’ up against the sides of your channel, your nerves, and making you clench around him even tighter—leaving the hybrid more and more honest with every single thrust. “I’m s-such a dirty hybrid…so perverted.” He admits, “I’d even wonder about trying to fuh-fuck you pregnant all over again every single day—”
“H-how do you mean?” You’re panting out.
“I’d wonder how many times it’d take to plant my seed inside- to fuck you so full that it finally- hngh, takes.” Eyes only partly-cracked open, “And then I’d wonder that it’d be best to fuck you every- single- day-”
“Yes-” You’re mewling out, your nails digging into the plushness of his pecs.
“I’d make sure my hybrid cum’s dripping down your legs every second of the day-”
“Yes.”
“I’d make sure when we’re walking—ngh, going on our walks, that every single hybrid in a five-mile distance is going to smell me on you…” Choso leans in as though sharing one of his deepest, darkest secrets, “-and in you.”
“Yes—”
“And thennnnn—” It’s here that an almost sleazy smirk graces his pretty lips, “I’d wonder about fucking you even after you were pregnant.”
Your jaw drops, and your hands fly to his collar.
“I’d wonder about fucking you u-until your womb remembered me and…” So caught up in his sinful words that you hadn’t even registered that the thickened base of his shaft was only growing thicker…and thicker, and even thicker—to the extent that now it was a round circumference nearly twice or thrice what it had normally been, and you hadn’t even seemed to notice the slamming slaps against the forefront of your cunt. Faster. Harder. His right hand dips down between your jittery legs to start teasin’ your clit with fresh tugs and rolls, “—we don’t stop until we have nine kids.”
Nine kids.
Nine kids?!
Choso Kamo had been so-ravenously dreaming about pumping you full of nine of his kids; creating a small army of hybrid half-breeds that would likely look just like him but with your open warmth and that beautiful smile of his. And why was it that you could imagine it so clearly?
“Nine kids…” Eleven repeating it a few times doesn’t do much to let the words fully sink in - who would have thought that the nervous, innocent Choso Kamo would be such a lewd character inside? Who would have thought that he’d be nodding along to your repetition.
Gingerly letting his eyes slip to the side of his pillows, “B-but I know that’s just a far-off- ngh, dream, mistress.” Much more of the usual Choso that you know, though he’s still fucking up into you as though it ached him very second that he wasn’t stuffing you all the way to the brim inside - Choso’s rounded, reddened tip plasters against the back of your pussy and you’re yowling. “That’s why I stole those panties, that’s why had to- ngh, satiate myself with just my hand…”
And that makes you slightly more alert- “My panties? Where are my panties, by the way?”
He shyly shrugs.
To which you’re narrowing your eyes in suspicion, “Choso…”
And the larger hybrid almost flinches- “Th-they’re under my pillows.”
Without a mere moment of hesitation, you’re diving your hand underneath one of those puffy pillows you’d picked out just for him during that first shopping trip you’d undertaken with him…and you find all those panties you’d lost. Half your drawer, to be precise.
Choso whimpers as you’re pulling a few strappy pieces of lace and gauze out—some of the sluttiest of your collection, and your fingers had scraped the rest of it that still remained down under. Honestly, how many had he collected without you realizing at first? How many had he fucking used—?
Those scraps of fabric were sticky and slightly cloying to each of your senses- and so what else could you think of doing? What better option for punishment was there to do but gather them up into a tight ball in your hand and push them between Choso’s pinkish, puffy lips- gagging him with your panties. Your panties that he’d used to jerk off.
A taste of his own medicine - or at least it was supposed to be. You just didn’t expect for Choso’s tail to start wagging even harder than ever.
Pervert puppyboy.
“So you wanted to breed me, huh?”
“N-not wanted…” He corrects you, hips surging up uncontrollably into your wetness. “Want.”
“So you want to breed me, huh? So you want to make all those dreams a reality?” Purring, and the man beneath you can only nod with his massive tear-filled eyes - just so pretty when he cried, hm? To stimulate him even further, you’re exerting your hips to outmatch his pace, rammin’ his bulbous cock into every crevice and geysering orifice that you’re able to realize exists—“Then you know that you still haven’t gotten my- ngh, permission for that, Choso, baby.”
Choso sputters out an exhale, “P-please, ma’am?” Muffled through your own panties. Rubbin’ his roughened thumb against your clit even further to sweeten the deal—“Do I have the permission to-”
“Yes-” And whatever hopeful moan was about to leave him, you’re cutting him off. “But only on one condition.”
“Please- what is it…?” He hisses, “Please-”
“But be warned, it’s a bit of a tough one-”
“I’ll do anything.”
And this was exactly where you wanted him. Exactly. You’re smiling down at the beautiful, utterly ruined boy beneath you—and pulling him in with a finger hooked underneath his pink collar - one that proudly had your name upon his pendant - to whisper into his flustered ears. “Then…bark like you want it.”
Choso’s eyes widen just a fraction. His cock trembles dangerously deep inside of you, and his nostrils flare as he exhales a large breath. Right before-
“R-ruff…” Before he’s muffling out the sweetest, most sultry fucking barks through the panties you’d gagged into his mouth- all because you’d asked. At the smell of your treacly cunt only growing even more aroused, Choso continues—“Ruff- arf—”
Your grin grows, “Ohoho? Louder.”
“Ruff-”
“Louder.”
“Ruff—woof.” He was just embarrassing himself, and it only made him even harder. Cock blushin’ almost as much as his cheeks were by this point- “Arf- arf, pleeeeese, ma’am.”
“Hmmm?”
Those dilated pupils of his cross, and Choso’s spitting out the gag of those gauzy - soiled with his own cum - fabrics to plead through trembling lips.
“P-please let me breed you, mistress.”
And what else more could you say but—“Of course, Cho.”
And in the next few sloppy thrusts, you’re feeling Choso empty out rope after loooooong heaving rope of cum inside you. It’s sheer volumes that you never even thought possible, sheer wads that were webbin’ up your tight insides and taking over every single ounce of space inside you - each with those creamy, glued-up wads of his seed.
Warm and wet.
Wild.
They’re splashin’ around inside of you and lacquering a thiiiiick few layers upon the channel of your cunt—over and over and over again. Choso doesn’t even need to try to make sure that every single spot is covered, because the sheer volume makes it impossible for a generous heap of his sap to puddle at your cervix, gettin’ hit by a torrential wave of his cockhead striking. Pumping deep inside.
Choso’s twitchy balls press up against your ass, just the slightest bit of your pussylips, and you’re shivering as you feel the orgasm that runs through him.
Collar dangling.
“Fuck…” Choso seethes through clenched canines, one of his hands coming up to press down upon your core. That cute front of yours where if he pressed juuuuuuust right- he could feel the vibrations of his shaft emptying out at your sponge-covered womb, “Fuck, m’gonna get at least one kid tonight , ma’am.”
Soon enough, you’re crashing into your own high, too.
And it zaps through your body faster than the last one - clearly having been so overstimulated that this one overtakes you more quickly, this one makes you see stars behind your eyelids, this one makes you shiver n’ shake on top of him.
Being properly fucked through your rapidfire waves of dopamine as he leans you even closer into his arms. As he nuzzles the side of your neck. As he hums out sounds of satisfaction at every euphoric peak he’s probin’ his massive cockhead into.
As Choso leans down and bites the side of your scent glands—you’re feeling something pop!
And you’re experiencing a sudden rush of warmth like another orgasm- like a hundred thousand other orgasms. It all courses through your overstimulated body one by one, at the same time, increasing in both length and intensity—it’s breaking you down to your very core—until you don’t even realize that you’re gasping out Choso’s name like a prayer.
And he’s worshipping yours in much the same fashion.
Basically ruining it with his lewd tone as he manages to slip that girthy knot of his inside - grinding n’ grinding the plumpness of his base until he’s fit-fit-fiiiiiiiiiitting in. Your cunt stretches like elastic around him, and it’s unbelievable to you that you’re able to fit so much of him inside like this.
You can feel him hot and throbbing deep inside you.
Preventing you from leaking even a single wad of his dewy white cum you’re milking.
“My mate…” Choso rasps out. You’re collapsed on top of him by now, and he runs one open palm down the curvature of your spine—then aaaaaall the way back up again to check on that freshly-made bonding mark on you - all bloodied and already healing through the special properties of a hybrid mate’s saliva - and then even further up to trace that collar of his. Lock broken. Your name always against his beating chest. Having you mewling at the sensation of his knot-
Currently, however, it was also your head against his beating chest.
You’re gripping onto his muscular body even further- and it almost makes you chuckle to feel that way just that makes Choso’s cock twitch inside of you. “No…” You state simply, “My mate.‘
“Anything you say, ma’am.”
.
.
.
Thereafter, it hadn’t been too long before Choso had roped you into a second round. Then a third. Then a fourth—where he’d been whimpering and shooting blanks, drool dripping down either side of his mouth as his cock slid into you in a thorough mating press.
And then a fifth. A sixth.
A seventh- honestly, after the seventh you’d stopped counting.
You didn’t trust Choso to keep count, either - honestly, you don’t think you would’ve trusted Choso to remember his own name.
Not this night or any of the hot summer nights that came after.
By the time the heat’s simmered down, and your lungs don’t feel clogged with the cloying sweetness of mingled pheromones, and you’re finally able to crack open your eyelids in this sultry sauna of a bedroom—you can barely move.
Body heavy.
Limbs aching.
Even the tiniest of twitches sending soreness shooting through your vessels.
You’re finding yourself tucked to Choso’s side underneath the covers- hand thrown around his muscular side, your chin hooked into the curvature of his spine. Who’d have thought that the big, bad hybrid would’ve been a small spoon?
That collar of yours was still ‘round his neck and showed no signs of being taken off soon. And you’re remembering just then that through most of his rut, the two of you had gotten up to scarf down food and clean yourselves when necessary. Though towards the feverish end of it, honestly you couldn’t remember anything other than wanting him to mark you with a bonding bite over and over and over again- so why were you notably wiped down and smelling of your favorite body wash?
Did Choso…wash you down even through his rut?
You knew the pheromones always hit the strongest towards the beginning and the end of one’s rut, did he really push through all that n’ tenderly tuck you in?
You’re feeling such a rush of affection for your puppyboy, and, sleepily, you press a line of kisses down the column of his throat- marked as well. In the heat of the moment, you’d somehow managed to puncture Choso’s scent glands with your own human canines.
He was yours, and you were his.
Choso hums groggily and snuggles even further backwards against you. Frankly, you think you could cuddle up against him and spend another day here—another week, another month.
Perhaps even the rest of your life.
But if only that incessant bzz-bzzing would stop.
With a pained groan, you’re managing to sit up and blink your eyes somewhere behind you - where the noise seemed to be pulsing from. Choso whines in disappointment and attempts to pull you back down with his warm hands- and oh, how it hurt you to deny those puppydog eyes.
“I’ll be cuddling you soon, spoiled baby.” You tut down at him. Finally locating the source of the noise, you’re reaching your sore hand out and grabbing onto your glaring phone.
Its screen assaults you with light immediately.
And then with a phone call.
Dr. Ieri Shoko.
Wincing, you’re answering the call. “Hello?”
“Woof- you sound rough.” Her cool tone wavers just the slightest in amusement, “Rough week?”
“Rough day.” You’re joking, “Rough rut.”
And there’s a slight pause on the other end of the line, “Right, but…you do realize it’s been a week, right?”
“What?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Almost immediately, you’re ripping your ear away from the phone and checking the date- fuck, Shoko hadn’t been messing with you. It really was a week since that last time you’d called her—you spent an entire week together in bed with him? And you hadn’t even realized?
Jaw dropping as so many things hit you at once, “My job-”
“Has already been notified.” And she sounded to be the exact opposite of you, collected and pausing for what you assumed to be sips of her morning coffee. “After our last call, I signed you up for the Hybrid Rut Registry- I do this for everyone that shelters, but didn’t consider it for Choso. It lets your workplace and loved ones know if and when your hybrid is in rut—and for your relationship I entered it as you’d be needed for the duration of the rut.”
Your heart races at her (very correct) assumption.
“You’re welcome.” She hums, “Also double-check on that to make sure that everything’s in order there- and also congratulations-”
Your bitten mark throbbed.
“-I expect to see you both at the clinic for a check-up today.” From your side, Choso wraps his muscular arms around you with a whine for you to come back. “But that’s not actually what I was calling you about- I was actually checking on your availability.”
“My availability?”
“Yes, for the program.” She replies simply.
“The program? Th-the companionship program?” You breathe, “Wait- I can help another hybrid?”
And she merely hums in satisfaction, “Mhm, I’ve got another hybrid that needs your help.” And whatever Choso’s honed senses let him hear or feel—he’s sitting up on the bed and pressing his face to the crook of your neck. “Another dog hybrid- a year older than Choso, slightly smaller, golden retriever variety, same intelligent and mild demeanor.”
“Yes?” You breathe. Heart pounding already.
“His name is Ino Takuma.”
A/N. WALK ‘EM LIKE A DOG, SIS, WALK ‘EM LIKE A DOOOOOOOOOG-
your nerdy fuckbuddy gojo has a tongue piercing?!?
“gojo—“ you said. “pause. stop.” you added, pulling his head up, away from your pussy. normally, you’d never stop him. ever. he pushed his slightly fogged up glasses up the bridge of his nose, and then spoke, his tone quiet and worried. “wh—what’s wrong? did— does it not feel good? a—am i going too fa—“ you shook your head quickly, and then sat up on your forearms.
“no, no, of course not— it’s .. i dunno. something feels.. weird. sort of.. cold.” you spoke, feeling sort of uncertain and deluded. you had never felt this feeling when he ate you out. you grabbed his chin lightly, and then thumbed at his lips. “do you have ice in your mouth or something?” you asked.
“uh—no..? but.. i.. can if you’d like that?” he said, looking up at you with a worried expression on his face. as he spoke, though, you noticed something shining in his mouth. “open your mouth.” you ordered. and he did so. quicker than you’d expected. he stuck his tongue out, and you gasped. “when did you get that?” you said, staring at the metal ball on his tongue.
“um.. a few days ago. i lost a bet with my brother.” he said, scratching his head and looking away, almost like he was embarrassed. “your brother.. the one in the fraternity?” you asked. “that’s the one.” he confirmed. wasn’t too far off from him. you’ve met him before— saturo. the sleazy, disgustingly sexy yet dangerous frat boy. you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want him.
“hm.” you said quietly. “do you like it?” he whispered, going back down so his nose was level with your cunt. “does it make you feel good?” he said, his breath fanning over the sensitive flesh. he gave you a long, slow lick, from your hole to your clit, not breaking eye contact. “when i got it done,” he said quietly, giving your clit a sweet kiss, and snaking his arms around your thighs to hold you down, so you wouldn’t twitch so much. “i couldn’t stop thinking of you. i was so excited to use it on you..” he murmured against you.
he reached up his hand, dragging his middle finger and ring fingers from your clit, down to circle around your hole, and then finally, inserting them in. he leaned up to you, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek, then another against your ear as he fingered you. “satoru—“ you moaned, watching as his fingers disappeared in and out of you. you bit your lip, and then he leaned down to capture your lips, wasting no time to use his tongue.
his tongue circled yours, and you moaned at the taste of yourself, and the feeling of his metal on your tongue. “i lost the bet on purpose.” he whispered against your lips. “i overheard you talking about guys with tongue piercings, and..” he said softly, giving your lips a chaste peck, his thumb moving up to work your clit as he fingered you. “i got jealous. jealous that you potentially didn’t have me in mind.” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “i wanted nothing more than for you to experience this. nothing more than for you to use me for as long as you want to.” he said, his tone almost whiny as he pleaded.
SYNOPSIS...for months you’ve been hiding you’re a vampire from your boyfriend. Controlling your lust, living about like a human, but as time passes it gets harder to conceal. His scent drives you crazy, slip ups happening more often than not. One kiss soon turned into addiction, a small drop of his blood has you left with a deep hunger, craving more. You know eventually where it will lead and it’s only a matter of time before he sees the real you
INFO...gojo x vampire fem!reader, dark content, lots of blood talk, gore (?), angst, eventual smut, reader has thoughts of hurting/killing gojo, reader drinks animal blood, description of bloodlust/transformation, violence, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
TAGLIST...closed
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art by reynisxxsimart
The room was still, silent. Beneath you was the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. Upon opening your eyes, the blinding light made it hard for you to focus, followed by dull pain in your temple. Slowly, you sat up, dazed and confused, gathering your thoughts. As you came to, you looked down at your hands, soaked in dried blood. With furrowed brows, your heart began to race, digging through your mind to recall what happened before now. Blood lingered in the air, clinging to your skin, staining the tiles beneath you.
“No…” You muttered, voice dry and broken. What happened? Only the worst came to mind. You saw the pool of blood on the floor as you hesitantly looked over your shoulder, spotting the hand of Gojo laying in it. Panic washed over you. You scrambled over to your boyfriend, looking at his still body. “Satoru?!” You grabbed ahold of his wrist, taking notice of his pierced skin. He was still warm. You grabbed ahold of his shoulders, shaking him, gently tapping his face.
“Mmnh,” he groaned. He forced his eyes open, pupils dilating as he stared up at the ceiling, completely lost in thought. With each second, he slowly began to move, scanning the room, his eyes landing upon you. The stinging pain in his arm didn’t go unnoticed, remembering exactly what happened before this moment. “Baby?”
“Toru! Oh my god!” You helped him sit up against the wall. The guilt you felt was immense, but this was the first time in years you’ve felt so energized and rejuvenated. It was clear you fed on him, you finally lost control. All you remember was arguing with him, feeling upset, and that’s it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you muttered, putting pressure on his wrist. “I’m—”
“You…,” he blinked at you, eyes big and blue, so full of fascination and curiosity, “you’re beautiful.” You stared at him, throat dry, mind racing. He reached his up to your face, gently stroking it, wiping the dried blood off the corner of your lips. His thumb gently parted your lips, running over the tip of your fang.
You gently grab his hand and pull it away. “You’ve lost a lot of blood,” you quietly say. Searching through the cabinet for a first aid kit, looking to wrap his wrist. You thickly swallow, the taste of his blood remains on your tongue, yet for some reason you don’t feel the strong urge to attack. You can feel his eyes on you, afraid he can read your thoughts, and feel every emotion flowing through you.
“You don’t remember do you?” He asks, watching your hands shake as you clean his wounds. “Yet you feel guilty.”
“Just stop talking,” you sigh, unraveling the bandage.
“Tell me what you remember,” he says, almost like he was demanding.
“I could’ve killed you,” you reply, avoiding his question all together.
“Then you don’t remember it correctly.” He gently grabs ahold of your hand, stopping you from wrapping his wrist. “Look at me.” His voice and gentle. It’s hard not to meet his gaze. “You feel ashamed? Guilty?”
You sat there in front of him for a few seconds before slowly nodding. Ashamed because of what you are, of what you become. Guilty because you shouldn’t have fed on him, you should know how to control yourself by now, but you remember how good it felt, how good it tasted. It’s him. He makes you lose all sense of self. “I’m sorry.” Tears well up in your eyes. “I feel disgusting,” you exhale through tears. “I still taste you…I haven’t done that in so long…I—I liked it. I remember liking it.”
“Oh, baby, don’t cry.” He wipes away your tears. “I remember you holding back, scared of hurting me, showing me your true self. You didn’t hurt me. I was the one who made you drink,” he admits. “Even when you stopped, I made you do it again.”
It was like a weight had lifted off of your shoulders. He was the one who encouraged you, willingly gave himself to you despite knowing how dangerous it could have been. “Why?”
“At first I was terrified and confused, but after listening to you, I saw something in your eyes that made every fear and worry go away. I wanted to see what you’d do, I wanted to feel what it was like. So, I watched you drink and take from me…and I’ve never felt such ecstasy before,” he explains.
“But what if I do end up losing control? What if I don’t recognize you? I can’t risk hurting you.” You shake your head, letting a shaky breath. His hand squeezes yours, thumb rubbing over your knuckles.
“From now on, I want you to feed on me. Wherever and whenever.” He completely disregarded your worries. His mind wouldn’t allow him to forget that moment. He remembers every detail, every feeling that coursed through his body when he felt your teeth sink into him.
“What?!” You asked shocked.
“Don’t try and change my mind. I want this.” He states, his words firm and voice strong.
“Satoru I’ve only fed on you once—”
“And I said I want you to do it again.” He stared at you, like he was looking right through you. “I know you felt the same thing I did. That intoxicating, addicting feeling. I want the real you in every which way. Please, baby.” The look in his eyes made your chest feel warm and your heart beat faster. His excitement and anticipation was felt with every word he spoke, leaving you with no choice but to agree.
“Okay,” you muttered. “Okay, I’ll feed on you—mmph!” He pulled you in for a kiss, lips crashing onto yours in an instant. He barely gave you time to breathe, his tongue grazing over your lip.
“I love you,” he breathed.
The days went on as before, as if nothing happened between you and Gojo. Both of you kept silent, yet seemed closer than ever before. He visited you more, catered to you more. You could always feel his eyes on you even when you’d walk away for just a moment. It was clear he’s become fascinated with you and each moment together felt like he was studying you, trying to learn you all over again.
Surprisingly, he hasn’t asked any questions pertaining to your past. Even if it has been a little over a decade, you weren’t sure if you were ready to confront that side of you yet. You’ve pushed those memories to the back of your head for obvious reasons. It wasn’t anything like the movies make it seem or what those teenage girls always wanted. It wasn’t graceful, but it was life changing in the worst possible way. Even though Gojo knows what you are, he doesn’t know who you were before him and what you did in your past. It can easily change his mind.
You sit in the car, staring at the gym building. Gojo has once again asked if you could come and watch him spar before wrapping up his workout for the day. You weren’t sure if he was doing this to purposely tease you. The last few days you’ve felt that wave of hunger roll back in, feeling an itch to drink from him. Though he doesn’t know, but it’ll be even harder for you to hide it from him now that he knows.
Your hands feel sweaty as you walk inside, his scent smacking you right in the face. You bite the inside of your cheek, holding onto the bag of fresh clothes you brought for him to change into. As walk into the sparring room, everyone stares, but all you’re able to focus on is Gojo. He’s light on his feet, jumping around the mat, eyes laser focused on his partner. You stand there, taking in the view, his abs glistening under the light, hair damp and framing his face. You lock in on the blood dripping from his nose, getting a rush of deja vu from the last time you were here.
As before, you find a corner to sit and watch him. You can hear his heart pounding in his chest, watching the way his pulse throbs under his skin, almost like it was calling to you. That familiar urge crawls at you, your mouth salivating, every thought leading back to his taste, his willingness to let you feed from him. It only made you hungrier.
As he circles around the mat, fists up to block any punches, he looks past his opponent, noticing you in the corner watching him. He loses focus, your eyes locking on to yours. He breathes heavily, recalling the moment you first fed on him. It flashes before him in slow motion and he can feel his heart beat quicken. He longs for the feeling again.
A sharp kick to the gut breaks him from his thoughts, making him hunch over. Soon after, it’s followed by a punch, feeling his lip split. He falls to his knees, holding his stomach.
“Break!”
Gojo lets out a cough, standing to his feet. “Good match,” he sighs, trying to catch his breath.
“Keep focus next time, yeah?” Geto chuckled, patting his back. “Is your girlfriend here again?” He smiled in a teasing manner.
“Mhm.” Gojo nodded. “Fuck off.” He playfully shoved Geto.
“You know I’m fucking with you,” he laughed. “Are you still coming out for my birthday in a few days? You’re both welcomed.” Geto asked. “It’s just at a bar, some food, drinks, and a good time.”
“Yeah, I’ll ask y/n. I’m sure she’d like to go.”
“Alright, just text me,” Geto replied as Gojo began walking towards you.
You stood from your seat, clutching the bag as he inched closer towards you with every step. He casually wiped the blood from his nose and lip, flashing a smile at you. “Hi, baby.” He cupped your cheek, pressing a kiss to your other cheek.
“Hi.” You smiled. “I brought you some fresh clothes for when you—”
“I was thinking of showering at your place,” he spoke, caressing your cheek with his thumb. Your eyes darted towards his neck, watching the way his pulse fluttered. “Is that okay?” He broke the silence.
“Yeah…yeah.” You swallowed, eyes now locking onto his bloody lip, watching how the crimson liquid slowly oozed out. The smell made your head swirl.
His eyes narrowed before he leaned in close, pulling you towards him. “Do you need me, baby?” He whispered in your ear. You inhaled deeply, the smell of his skin, his blood, the smell of him made your hunger grow deeper by the second. “Tell me,” he whispered again, gently rubbing your neck.
Slowly, you nodded, gripping onto his shirt as you took another deep breath, his scent filling your lungs. Gojo couldn’t help but smile at your answer. He grabbed the bag the bag from you, escorting you out the gym. “We can’t do it in public,” you mention.
“Stop torturing yourself. You can barely wait, I can tell.” He opens the back door to the car, both of you getting in. He tosses the bag to the floor without a care a in the world.
You grab a hold of him, straddling his lap, tongue darting out as you lick the blood from his lips, pressing a wet kiss to them. He can tell you’re changing, your strength growing, and the way your fangs graze his lips as you kiss him. You lick the sweat from his skin, tongue running over his pulse, feeling the heat of his rushing blood against your tongue.
He lets a shaky, anticipating breath, when you kiss down to his shoulder. You lift you head once last time to look at him and he looks into your dark, lustful eyes, baring your fangs before sinking them into his flesh. “F-fuck,” he whimpers, clawing at the seat as you held him down. He feels the warm blood trickle down his skin, that feeling of ecstasy rolling in quick, his head falling back.
Your hands run all over his body, finding their place in his hair, tugging at it as you drink more, pulling him as close as you could. “Ah!” You lift your head, looking towards him, that same look in his eyes as the first time, like he’s drifted off somewhere. You lick the excess blood from his wounds, savoring his taste on your tongue.
He stares at you like you’re the most beautiful thing on this earth, lifting his hand to wipe the blood off of the corner of your mouth. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he says, breathless. “More,” he demands. You don’t say anything. Instead, you kiss him, slow and steady, yet he kisses you like he’s hungry, selfish. “Again,” he says between kisses.
You pull away from him, craning your neck towards his shoulder, readying for another bite. His body jolts when he feels your fangs break his skin, but the pain is soon replaced with pleasure, his hand pressing down on the back of your head, wanting you to drink more and more. He steadies his breathing, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he lets the exhilarating feeling consume both him and you.
Synopsis. To Geto Suguru it’s the Creature, The Strongest being in existence, his masterpiece of science. To you he’s Gojo Satoru, the poor experiment you found chained up in the scientist’s dungeon, the creation that taught himself how to love. To him he doesn’t know who he is, but he knows where he belongs - with you.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, Creature!Gojo, Frankenstein!Geto, based on Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein, PLOT, 1800’s, worldbuilding, love triangles (Gojo x reader x Geto), angst, vioIence, bIood, backstories, accidentally falling in Iove, oraI (fem rec.), PÚSSYDRÚNK Gojo, spítting, face-ríding, fíngering, teaching him, first times (Gojo), he’s BIG, tummy buIges, cervíx kíssin’, making it fit, BRÉEDING, matíng presses, raw, FÉRAL GOJO, manhandIing, dúmbifícation, rough s, creampíes, cúmpIay, overstím, implied marathon, time skips, Nanami cameo, HAPPY ENDING, pet name, swéaring.
Word count. 16.8k
A/N. I’ve been wanting to do this AU for SOOOO LONG-
1857.
Reds of the Royal Danish Navy shed against bone-white ice; the Horisont has found itself trapped in ice amidst the expedition to the North Pole.
It was a coldness beyond cold, a glaucoma of the world. Only in such a place does the belligerence of humanity dim before a ceaseless peripheral of something much greater. Something much older. Something soul-cold.
Here, one cannot see.
One cannot swallow. One cannot hear.
And it is why Captain Nanami Kento pauses between scratching at his parchment. He works stiffly and slowly beneath the damp glow of the lantern, with an ear craned in the direction of the deck outside: the heaving of ropes being put to work, the chants between cold coughs, the sudden slamming of produce.
“Captain!” One of the newer crew members, still sun-tanned and youth-freckled, barges in through the door. From the doorway he pants out urgently, “Captain, an explosion- oh, you simply must see this.”
Nanami rises cautiously, “See what, boy?”
“A- a monster.”
A coldness creeps into his heart. “Get the men.”
In almost no time, there’s a group of about ten crew members racing down the frost-bitten landscape. They held their lit torches high, trembling flames that were snapped and slobbered in all directions by the wind, as if lambs being hauled to slaughter.
A few of the lookouts had already set a bonfire in the distance to mark their finding, and as Nanami leads the group closer, he can feel his pulse jump to his throat. He can taste the blood. He can smell it.
He brings a gloved hand up to cover his nostrils as he looks on at the reddened snow, “This…this blood- where does it hail from? Has one of ours been injured?”
“Not ours, Captain!” One of the seamen hasten to explain, he jogs past the bonfire. “A wounded man, he has suffered a great loss of blood!” And where the man motions them, Nanami could see two writhing lumps in the darkness - about as large as a young Grey Seal, though perhaps not made of as much pure muscle.
They follow the man—a corpse.
At least, well on his way to become one.
Dressed much like them in protective coats, there was no telling just how long the man had been laying there in the snow. In a slowly-growing pool of his wine-blood. His fingers were blue, mouth trembling, eyes frosted shut. Though, perhaps out of some sick sense of mercy. Because even from here Nanami could see the garish slashes on the man’s neck and shoulders.
His pale face grimaces at the torrent of light that signals the crew’s entrance, muttering something that they could not discern.
Nanami’s the first to crouch beside him and take the man into his arms, “Bear attack?”
“I do not believe so, Captain.” The same young crew member from before urgently speaks, “Our early lookouts- they claim they saw something in the shadows…something otherworldly!” Nanami looks into the boy’s ghost-white face, “Something demonic!”
The blond man nods, “Itadori, help me with his boot.”
Together, they manage to knife between the coagulation of frost and blood that composed of the man’s boot. Like much of his body. It was a tough leather fighting against a dull blade, enough to make one sweat even in the bitter landscape. And Nanami almost thinks better of his decision before-
“A prosthetic leg.” Itadori breathes. He holds up the metal limb for the rest of the crew to peer at, fashioned from some sort of metal, it was attached to the man with a series of buckles and belts. So intricate, in fact, that had it not been for the discoloration then one might have thought that it was his natural outgrowing limb.
Nanami’s brows furrow at the device, “This must be…and what about the other one?”
“The what?” Itadori asks.
“The other one.” Nanami’s the one to make his way onto the other ‘lump’ he’d made out, much more frozen stiff than the other one. He kneels down to gently wipe off the clumps of snow on the grooves of your face, your beautiful, beautiful face. You didn’t seem to be at all hurt, unlike the man. “A woman…”
“Found with the older man, Captain.” One of the crew answers, “Both frozen, almost to death.”
“Almost to death…”
And that’s when they hear it.
It.
That ghastly, guttural roar that came from no place but hell.
If the darkness could speak, this could be its voice. Hear its nightmare, its pain, its humanity. It makes the crew members break out in a cold sweat.
In the three seconds that it rips through the wind, Nanami’s running his mind through every page of every zoological textbook he’s ever read - and coming up blank after each one. Blank. Blank. Blank. Blank. Blank—no living creature should ever be able to make a sound like this.
Just what in hell was that?
“C-Captain!”
It’s Itadori’s trembling tone that snaps Nanami out of his frozen state. He looks to the boy—fuck, he looks down and realizes that his hands were shaking.
“Put- put him…” Lips parched, he clears his throat and doesn’t care if it’s unsteady. “Put him onboard! Now!” Nanami yells at the crew, who instantly move to action as he keeps an eye in the dark direction of where the noise had originated from.
Beyond their circle of torches, something shifts in the shadows.
Something tall.
Tall.
Tall.
Another roar—“Hurry!” The Captain cries, helping his crew lift the injured man. “To the ship! Now—”
Perhaps because of the blood loss, their straggler is nothing more than a slight burden in their trembling arms, though with that- that thing in the darkness beyond them, he just might as well have weighed a hundred tonnes.
It’s with such dreadful relief that they manage to reach the Horisont and lever the body up the port side of the ship. As it’s carted off like a still-trembling corpse, Nanami calls out to the seamen that work the base. “Itadori, that thing is coming.”
“C-Captain?” The boy asks, nervously.
And the older man only silently hands him a gun, “We have to be ready.” Holding one himself, he raises the nozzle of the pistol in the air and fires, man-made thunder in response to the voice of something beyond. “Ready the rifles!”
Rows upon rows, guns upon guns, human beside human.
Lining the berth of the ship with their weapons raised, they clutched those polished wooden handles. Death at their fingertips. A third roar punctuates the night, and had it not been for their Captain’s presence right beside them, those men might just have been running for their life.
“On my command…” Nanami calls out.
Something bludgeons through the wintry landscape. As tall as even the tallest hanging icicles, with a coat that flaps around it like bat wings.
“Aim…”
Inhuman.
“Fire!”
Gunshots ring out like applause, ah, the only invention of humanity that may cut through the cold. That may slice it. Two of the bullets hit the creature in what looked to be its shoulders, and it collapses to the ground with a pained cry. Pained? Could it really feel such a thing?
Most monsters didn’t. And this one raises its hooded head and roars.
Oh—Nanami’s stepping backwards before he can stop himself.
“Next group, next group!” Itadori’s juvenile voice takes command in place of his Captain, though he was shaking even more so. Crew members with their guns cocked kneel down in the exact positions of the previous line.
Their nozzles smoke, hungry for blood.
With an arm stretched outwards, Nanami’s directing them. “On my command…aim…fire-”
Gunshot after gunshot after gunshot.
A second round of applause. A standing ovation. Almost with more fervour than before, those bullets reach towards the limelight where their lanterns were fixated on this hulking, inhuman figure. A hard target to miss.
Hit after hit after hit.
And yet…it does not stop. It does not slow down. It does not even shed blood - this thing takes their most fierce protection, lets it sink into its body as if not the worst thing it’s ever experienced. The bullets embed deep into its clamoring limbs, only increasing the fury in its pace.
Step after step after step.
Until finally- they’re catching a glimpse of blood-shot eyes.
“Re-retreat! To the ship.” Nanami yells, grabbing some of his crew members and pulling them to stand. He’s shoving them in the direction of the ramp that led up the side of the ship, not looking backwards until Itadori was already aboard. “To the ship! Retreat to the ship! Ret- no.”
He’s whipping his head behind as one of the foolhardy men rush in the direction of the monster with his gun. Raised as if to bash it with it—
“Retreat!”
In just one sweeping motion the creature throws the crew member aside. Hard enough that he bangs against the side of the ship, hard enough to break bone.
Nanami pales as he hears the crunching of ligaments and skeleton, screaming out at his crew to board the ship once more. “Retreat- retreat, I say! This is an order from your Captain!” He’s stomping through the bustling deck, weaving through the men that feared for their life as much as they feared the life now rattling the ladder of the ship. “Where is that man we brought aboard? Where?”
“St-starboard, Captain.” Itadori replies.
And Nanami wastes no time before going up to the man - laid out amongst some blankets on the side of the ship - and grabbing him by the lapels of his frost-crusted coat, “What does that thing want?” He barks out at the groaning man, he assumes that you’d been taken inside. “Tell me! What does it want-”
Another young member, Ino, quivers out. “Captain, he’s almost—”
Roaring.
Gone and guttural.
It had reached the deck by now, standing tall amidst the crew that raced like ants. That looked just as helpless. In one hand it crushes a human skull as if nothing, and with the other he points straight at the shivering corpse.
“Bring- her- to me-”
A voice that sends their hearts beating out of their chests, so that they felt less-than human. Just as it sounded.
Her…?
From behind, one of the crew members stabs at the creature with the edge of his gun. Nanami doesn’t wait to watch him get flung off the edge of the ship- “The Blunderbuss.” He’s turning to the crew with widened eyes, breathless. “Ino, get the Blunderbuss!”
“Y-yes, Captain!”
In no time, a heavy metal firearm is being pressed into Nanami’s hands. He doesn’t wait to take aim and—shoot!
It strikes the monster right in the middle of his chest, and it stumbles. Hands but a blur on the greed-cold nozzle, sweat sticking his skin to metal, one eye closing in concentration- the Captain shoots again.
And again.
And again.
Each one finds its target with deathly precision. But a monster never truly dies, does it? Not until they can spike fear into the hearts of those mortal? It turns out, they merely fell.
As if a great oak befalling, it almost hurt to watch it descend. They all rush over to the other side of the deck as the monster plummets; the ice below craters once it rests, erupting a halo of dark blue lightning bolts brought out of the frozen water. Nanami wastes no time lugging the prolonged length of the Blunderbuss over the deck and shooting it a few more times - this time, however, not quite at their untimely visitor.
He aims for the thinning ice that cracks off with the blows, segregating the creature from the rest of them. And not one member of the crew releases a relieved breath until after the chunk of ice breaks off. Floats off.
It opens its eyes.
Snaking his body upright, “Give her…” Charging back towards the ship. A voice that thunders up to where they are, and makes everyone take a step back. “Give her to me-” All but Nanami, of course, who aims a single shot at the monster—and lets his hand fly off the trigger.
BANG—!
CRASH.
Thrown off his feet, it seems that the taller they are the harder they fall indeed. That…thing ends up with its back against the slab of ice once more, which gives way beneath its weight as if made out of nothing but paper. Opening up a gaping mouth. Ice-water sloshing at its feet. Crumbling into the tiniest pieces, the monster sinks…
The Captain doesn’t lower his gun or his caution until he can’t see its flailing arms any longer. Until the sea swallows up their woes with a gurgle, and with it, a creature more monster than man. Nanami peers down as its blood-black cloak dissipates into nothingness.
Then - and only then - does he turn to face the rest of the stunned crew.
“Take me to her.”
Less than an hour later, the man was up and talking—you, however, weren’t quite as lucky. According to the ship’s doctor you were alive, it seems, but just barely.
Itadori frowns at your shiver and rubs on your hands even harder. Entire body tinged ever-so-slightly with a pallor of blue - it didn’t matter what your original shade was, you looked plain sickly. And so tiny in Nanami’s bed, his heart aches as he lifts his bedcovers up to your chin, wishing that he had more than some ol’ Captain’s drudgery. You looked like a lady.
“Where am I…?” The black-haired man’s voice creaks out, his long locks sweeping the ship’s floor. He seemed to be the Captain’s own age. Despite being in the warmth now, he still quivered - whether out of the frigid outside, or the memory, Nanami wasn’t quite sure. “Who-”
“You’re aboard the Royal Danish ship, Horisont.” Nanami answers, watching as the doctor hands him a vial of something that the man downs with a wince. “I’m Captain Nanami, this is Dr. Shoko.”
“How many of your men did it kill?”
The blond man shivers, momentarily speechless.
He looks at the man intensely, his teeth were drenched in red. “…Six.”
“It will come back and kill many more.” He begs, tone trembling until it was almost indiscernible. He sweeps a hand around the room, flickering in and out of existence in the dim lantern. “All of you, if necessary, unless you deliver me to it.”
Nanami bends down until he’s eye-level with the other man, almost condescending. “It’s gone. It sank in the freezing waters, it’s dead-”
“No, it is not!”
There’s a bang and a clutter- suddenly the long-haired man is upon him, grabbing Nanami by the coat and shaking him. His eyes held a madness to them that shook the taller man to his very core, and he found his own scared face staring back at him through those irises. “It cannot be killed! It- it…” As if the weight of his own words were hitting him, he’s sinking back onto the couch that made his impromptu clinical bed. “It c-cannot die…I’ve tried.”
“You’ve tried?” Itadori pipes up.
Nanami looks at the madman wearily, “And you have most certainly been…unsuccessful.”
“Whether you believe me or not…” Sinking his head into his hands, throat shattering in tears. “-it will come back…for me.” He breathes heavily, “And when it does, you must promise that you will put me out on the ice and let it take me.” Looking up into Nanami’s molten eyes, “Please.”
“What sort of creature is that?” Shoko asks, taking off her medical gloves. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Or more pertinent a question—” Nanami looks behind at your shivering figure, still, and then at the man before him. “What manner of devil made him?”
The man gulps, “I did.” As if the weight of a thousand years was rushing out of him at once, “I, Geto Suguru, made him.”
.
.
.
PART I: Geto’s Story.
His name was Geto. Geto Suguru.
It was his father that gave him that name, Suguru (杉る) meaning excellent, superior, surpass. One could claim that it all started with him, his father. And his mother.
For there are some parents that bear no merit to become parents in anything other than name.
The world changes once you bear life, you know, in the way that they look at you, in the way that they speak to you, in the way that they know you. They don’t know you as anything otherwise. And unless you can change with the world, then the world will change you. For love is a melding of souls that leaves one’s tempered.
And one has to be strong to accept change, to be changed. Both physically and mentally. Fear it, of course - the presence of strength does not equate to an absence of fear - but be strong. Change.
The strength of one’s love is equivalent to the strength of one’s self. Why shouldn’t you change?
And so—to recap, the world shall change, you shall change - so who does that leave amongst the conflict?
Why, the child, of course.
To his mother, he was strong: her first-born. And this woman amongst women, this flurry of passion and decadence, the only person to ever beat him in cards, the sole empress of their mansion to brave his father for all those years; to him, she was far stronger than he.
Far stronger.
And yet, his mother died at the hands of the nation’s best doctor.
His father.
Geto Suguru’s mother died giving birth to his younger brother. Though she didn’t die with regrets- at least, their father didn’t believe so.
The youngest child was the apple of their father’s eye, the one that couldn’t grow up, the one that was worth a life. He was the breeze, Geto was the storm cloud.
Where he was locked in the library and taught the ways of the human tissue, it was his brother that was boasted at every social function. What had taken him years of reciting the complexities of anatomy to learn from his father, his brother could earn a smile with but a single look. When he had never heard a syllable of love from his father, he could hear through his bedroom—a wall shared with his younger brother’s, sweet goodnights.
There was something more- or rather, there was something missing.
“Father?” He remembers asking one morning after their early anatomy lesson. Geto must have been barely fourteen by this point, though his father acted around him like nothing more than if he were dealing with a poisonous viper.
The elderly man pauses, and turns stiffly towards his first-born. “Yes?”
“You let her die, did you not?”
“I did everything in my power to save her. You must know that.” His father answered, grimly. He clutched his textbooks tighter as his son got up and rounded the table slowly.
Geto looks at him, “So you failed.”
The patriarch looks at him dismissively, “No one can conquer death.” And it has the tone of the final say, to which the man turns his back and leaves.
“I will.” Geto calls out after him. And there was no way that the baron didn’t hear him, no way that he didn’t know the boy had just picked up his own cane. A thin bristling woodwork singed with years of hitting onto the very flesh that held it now.
Geto whips it through the air, “I will conquer it.” He wasn’t speaking at a particularly high volume, and yet it cracks through the halls of the library- making his father stop in his tracks and turn. “Everything you know, I will know too.”
The man looks at him with intense eyes, so similar to his younger brother’s. “I think we’ve done quite enough for today.”
Ultimately, he was not strong enough.
The Geto fortune’s downfall was swift; two revolts and a fire across their fields left them bereft. They kept the estate, but lost everything else.
Including his father.
Geto was accepted into the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh, where he attempted to…widen the narrow vision of academia. It is here that he held his own at a tribunal hearing, before an audience of a hundred he demonstrated his earliest experiment mending the arm of a dead man, and the head of another. By running an electric current through this specimen, he made it move—life!
“This is a hearing, Doctor, not a carnival act!” Another powder-wigged, bespectacled, puff-pastried member of the board cried out from his raised podium.
It was exactly because of bigwigs like him that Geto had to attend such a hearing in the first place. Some of the higher-ups had caught a whiff of his experiments on corpses, and thus they’d demanded a proper investigation before the entire association, to determine whether such acts were in line with the ‘morals and scientific integrity of’ the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh.
The other surgeons around him leaned in on the edge of their seats as the elderly board member stabbed a finger in the direction of the moving corpse. He seethes, as if he found the mere display of it offensive to his eyes. “You’re not helping your cause, this galvanic trickery will simply not do!”
“Trickery.” Geto repeats, reaching deep into his pockets. “Trickery?”
Before everyone, he pulls out a red apple, ripe to the touch. Throwing it in the air a few times—before throwing it to the corpse.
Who reaches out and catches it.
“That is not trickery- that is a decision!” He cries out at the display. The single arm twists and turns, letting the deceased head inspect the apple. And above the applause, Geto yells in elation. “Motor coordination between the eye of one dead man, and the arm of another! Infused with new will and the rudiments of understanding-”
A board member cuts him off, “Understanding in a brain that has already died-”
“This is the future! It is strength-”
“It is an abomination!”
It is only after Geto was formally expelled for his ‘blasphemous’ research by the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh did he meet Kenjaku. It was with a tip of his hat and a bow so low that the tips of his nose nearly touched the blood-stained pavement, and then Kenjaku was led inside his laboratory.
He had strange stitches on his forehead, and Geto thought of him as almost a kindred spirit. A face to which he couldn’t put an age. He claimed to be an acquaintance of his brother’s and inquired into the other man’s work.
It was also the first time that Geto Suguru heard your name, his brother’s fiancée.
It was also the first time that his heart had undergone the strangest palpitations that were not in line with any medical textbook he’d devoured before.
“So you claim you can do it-” Kenjaku had peered down at the man, dark eyes twinkling in interest. “-bring a man to life from the dead? Create a man that is so strong that he may not die?”
“I know I can.”
And it seemed to have been exactly the answer that he’d been looking for.
Kenjaku reached into his long coat, and pulled out a flat white card with swooping cursive. “I have a proposal for you, Doctor.” At the surgeon’s raising eyebrows, his feline grin only grows. “I will endow your pursuit with unlimited resources. In exchange, I may in time ask you for a favor in return- but mostly, it would be my utmost honor to record your process for posterity.”
Geto looks at his outstretched hand. He hesitates. “I will…consider-”
“Don’t pretend to be reasonable now, Doctor.” Forcefully, the card with details is being pushed into his hand. “It would be such a shame.”
Geto never did find out his first name.
In the coming weeks Geto also grew to meet you, and he grew to be hated by you.
Or so you claimed. It was the interference of the natural cycle between life and death that made you instantly dislike him, you’d heard enough about his work from Kenjaku, a close family acquaintance. So to see this pompous, stubborn, (beautiful) scientist in the flesh was not too different from meeting the devil himself.
And the devil always was quite tempting.
“You laugh at my ideas?” He’d asked on your first meeting with him. It had been a lunch with none other than Kenjaku, his younger brother, and you.
And while the former two had disappeared for ‘brandy and cigars’ at a moment’s notice of one of your brewing debates, Geto had been the only one to stay. To sit opposite you on the long table. To look you straight in the eyes as you scoffed at his claims to bring a dead man back to life. “Idea are not worthwhile by themselves now, are they?”
He crosses his arms, “Explain.”
“Think of the war, for example.” Your steely gaze watches as Geto’s dark brows raise, “Honor. Country. Valor. These surely are worthwhile elevated ideas by themselves, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Mhm.”
“And nevertheless, men are dying for them, in a decidedly less elevated way.” You continue, “Face down in the mud, choking on blood, screaming in pain. Fathers, brothers, sons. Men that were nursed into this world by their mothers, only to fall on a battlefield far from those that provoke these tragedies.” You’re looking straight at him, “Those men remain at home, untouched by blood or bayonet.”
Geto tugs on his coats, skin hot for the first time in…ever. “I-I see-”
“That is what happens when ideas are pursued by fools.”
His head snaps up, “And you think me a fool? Hm?”
To which you lean close enough that your breath wafts his face, warm and only warmer. Just the slightest smile on your face, “Run to your brandy and cigars~”
He’d never been harder.
A few weeks after that meeting, Geto rode down in a carriage with Kenjaku to a lake near Vaduz across the channel. A tower built as a water filtration plant and abandoned at the start of the war; the moment he laid eyes on it, the tower, he could feel destiny calling.
He could feel it.
The months slurred into one, and so did his experiments.
He stitched together the corpses of prisoners and men recently hanged, until he’d grown quite expert in making seamless threads on skin, until even various shades of skins could be melded into one. Trial after trial after trial.
The floor of his once-new laboratory ran red.
And with every step closer he got to creating life, it felt like Geto lost a bit of his own.
The first time that Geto bedded you, that was the night that he finalized the creation that would come to be his greatest downfall. He’d finally found the pressure points he needed to intrude in order to keep the lymphatic system intact.
And he worked like a dog.
Night after night after nightmarish night. Those bad dreams melded into reality, and Geto could differentiate which was which.
Until one night, a strom was a-brewing above his spiral tower, and Geto stepped back to admire his creation. Upon a cross-like platform hoisted a pale body much larger than the largest man, much less human. He’d chosen each body part himself, of course: that toned torso, that handsome face, that small waist, those sea-blue eyes, hair of holy white.
The perfect creation.
As flares of lightning outreached across the sky, Geto connected the body to various cables and bolts aiming to extract the energy of the storm. Climbing to the top of the tallest tower, he’d enabled a massive ray that acted as a lightning catcher aimed straight at the lifeless body upon the cross. Like the hand of the heavens above, it was to give life.
“By God, it’s perfect.” Kenjaku whispers, coming up to the surgeon’s side in the laboratory. Kenjaku had taken residence in this very tower until Geto was to complete his experiment, and he frantically stopped Geto in his ministrations- “Quick! Quick, you have to do it now-”
“Pardon-” Geto’s brows furrowed, “Do what?”
“My brain.”
He pales, “P-pard-”
“My brain- inside that body.” He shakes the younger man, “Did I not say that the time would come when I ask you for a favor, boy? Well this is that time- quick, before the storm reaches its peak! Extract my brain and place it into the perfect body of our new Adam-”
Geto smacks his hand away, voice heightening. “That’s madness! I work with corpses, I will not kill just to put your-”
“Is it the money?”
He rounds the scientist now, hands throwing up in the air. And Geto can only step backwards—
“Because I can give you all the money you want- ohoho! You only need to say yes-”
“But-”
He swipes a hand out once more to grab the other man, though Geto dodges it this time. “-no more, and no less!” Closing in on the man, “Just think about it, my boy, for me- youth! And for you, eternal wealth! No money in the world would be enough for this, and I can give it all to you if you just say the-”
“No.”
Kenjaku charges.
And at that exact moment, lightning clashes.
CLAP—!
It erupts from the needle-like end of the ray, making every piece of metal in the laboratory glow molten red with heatwaves. The diagonal and vertical lines of lightning crackling through the air, powerful enough that one could almost feel the atoms around it sizzling. Making the energy spark against metal as it conducts, making a stray beam hit Kenjaku and make him drop to the floor with a cold shiver. Dead.
Geto himself can just barely manage to throw himself underneath one of his desks and take cover. His head in his hands, his heart in his throat.
And in the distance, something seems to ba-dump—!
When Geto Suguru opens his eyes again, he isn’t the only thing alive in that laboratory.
.
.
.
“And it was a monster.” In the present day, a Geto Suguru that was not much older - though he felt as such, he sighed as such - finishes off his story by spitting. It was as if speaking the very tale into memory left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, “With the average body and mind of a twenty-eight-year-old, and yet I discovered soon that it had super strength, healing like never seen in a natural organism before- and as his strength increased, mine waned. I did not sleep, I did not eat, I did not live- and more than that, I could not make it speak. I created The Strongest, and in doing so I created a monster.”
Nanami Kento runs a hand down his face silently, “You played God and now…”
“And now you reap the consequences.” Itadori is the one to finish off.
And the tired surgeon can only nod, placing his aching head in his hands once more. “I am its creator, and I have created a monster. It is something that should never have been done- never! I should have listened to her-”
“I did tell you so.”
A soft voice speaks up, and the fatigued crew almost believes it to be nothing but a hallucination- till they’re hearing the rustle of coarse bedsheets, and they instantly snap their heads towards the Captain’s bed.
It was you.
At some point during Geto’s story, you’d managed to seat yourself up on the bed without any of them knowing. Keeping a keen ear on what was being said. Like Geto, you had that same air of faint fatigue about you- but you still held your head high, your poise that of high aristocracy.
Tired, but still as beautiful as ever. And Nanami swears he catches the surgeon’s gaze glimmer ever-so-slightly as they drift over to you.
By the determined glint in your pupils, he guessed you were none other than Geto’s brother’s (former, likely) fiancée.
Itadori jumps away from his seat on the bed with a squawk, blushing to the roots of his rosy hair. With a slightly stifled giggle, you’re patting the mattress beside you and getting him to sit once more. Once that was over, you cross your palms atop one another and introduce yourself.
“Captain Nanami Kento.” Nanami’s respectfully removing the cap of his uniform and bowing, hoping that you didn’t catch the exact shade of rouge that his ears were.
“Dr. Ieri Shoko.”
“Itadori Yuji.”
You’re nodding as they introduce each other, the rest of the crew, one after the other. Before ultimately settling on Geto, “And I know you too well.”
“Too well.” He chuckles.
“You have all heard my acquaintance’s story here.” You do not wait for the next invitation, gesturing at the man that was still sitting upon the couch. The rest of the room leans in with a nod, “So I believe it should only be fair that I share mine, too.”
.
.
.
PART II: Your Story.
You knew that Geto Suguru was trouble - you knew it.
In addition to unapologetically luring you away from your fiancé (his very brother, at that! That most certainly should’ve been enough to tell you all needed to know about the man), he was steeped in work of such nature that it should never even be spoken into existence. Such blasphemous ideologies, you had never heard of in your entire life.
And you didn’t want to.
At least, that’s what you had assumed. But Geto just had a way about him that was so…irresistable.
And even these past few weeks where he’d been holed up within his laboratory had a part of you missing him. Not necessarily out of any romantic obligation- though, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him in your bed. But mostly, you simply wanted to know whether he’d finally completed his life-death mission and left the rest of humanity to bear its consequences.
Unholy, unholy consequences.
“Oh, Suguru…” Your voice comes out breathless, murky in the stagnated air of the dungeon. It had been weeks since either Geto nor Kenjaku had responded to a letter from you, and without further ado - what next was there to do but barge into the very laboratory?
It wasn’t a difficult task you had to admit. The massive mill had been deemed empty after a few of your knocks went unanswered, and the door was unlocked - what have you told Geto about prioritizing his safety!
Nonetheless, it had worked in your favor this time. And while your fiancé had gone in search of his brother, you’d wandered throughout the entire barren, dilapidated mansion until you’d heard a few rustles from…the floor below the ground.
The dungeons.
Wondering that perhaps something unseemly had happened to one of the residents here, you’d quickly made your way down. And the sight that met you—oh, it had your vision blurring with- tears? You weren’t quite sure what was even real by this point.
It was a massive underground cavern, tiled clinically with white stone on every wall. Great pillars. Glistening streams of water. It wafted out slightly damp particles into the air, and made your breath take formulation in front of you. Tall concave arches curved their backs like portals into other worlds, and beyond the largest one- you could see a figure.
So pale that it almost melded into the walls it was chained to, almost wanted to.
But nothing could hinder the sight of the long-limbed, otherwordly…human before you. Less than human, more than not. He had the brightest blue eyes. Pale hair. Wearing nothing but a robe- more like a blanket, around his lower half. Stepping closer, you could see scar-like stitches around most of his joints: his neck, his legs, the most prominent one in the middle of his toned torso. You bring your hand up to your mouth and whisper, “Oh, Suguru, what have you done?”
The figure stirs at your voice, and stands.
“I…” You don’t know what to say, instinctually taking a step back behind a pillar as he stands to his full, towering height. Nearly eight feet tall, perhaps more. The strands of his ivory hair brushed the very ceiling, and you had to crane your head up to take a look at his handsome face.
The way he moves- jerky, to try and crane his head to see you. As if eager.
You notice that he couldn’t move much with the multiple chains around his wrists, and so you step into the light. Breathing out, “H-Hello.”
And then he smiles.
The most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen.
As you get closer, he silently cocks his head to look down at you.
“Hello.” You say, with more conviction this time. You’re raising your head up fully into the white overhead light, looking right into those beautiful blue eyes—and you think you hear him take in a slight hitched breath. You introduce yourself. “Have you been here long?”
As expected, he doesn’t answer once more. Simply blinking down dreamily at you, slow and steady like he was memorizing your face.
And yet you continue anyways- “It must be cold in here- here.” You’re shrugging off your coat immediately, and though it might be quite small for the giant, you stand on your tip-toes to help him wrap it over his naked shoulders. “I’m sorry, it’s not much- oh.” Mouth slightly dropping as he cups his hand over yours, just as you were straightening out the fabric over his pale skin. You feel the coldness of his body and gasp.
His large body somewhat startles at the noise, and you’re immediately feeling empathetic.
“Oh! Oh, I do apologize for scaring you.” In a slightly more hushed tone, you’re smiling up at him - hoping that perhaps it would disarm him, make him take a step closer. “That was not very lady-like of me, was it? Do forgive me.”
And you didn’t quite give a damn about customs, if you do say so yourself. But before this man you’re placing your hands upon either side of your skirt and curtseying- distinctly sure that you were making a fool of yourself before—
Rattle—!
You’re whipping your head up to realize that this giant was mimicking you - with his head bowed, and his lithe hands pinching the air of an invisible skirt.
You can’t help but giggle, and that draws a soft grunt from the creation, as if imitating that, too.
Or at least wishing to.
After a few seconds of drinking him in, you notice that he was looking rather intently at your hands. The very same part of you that he’d touched earlier.
His touch had been gentle, parched.
And in almost slow-motion, you’re tugging off the silken gloves that encased your hands. The expensive fabric was stuck to your fingertips like a second skin, and the giant’s eyes widen as if he was looking at you peeling a layer of your own. Reaching your exposed palm out—he grips your hand in his cold, cold ones and drags you closer.
He exhales as he brings it up to his face, as he feels you- as he presses your fingertips to his mouth and kisses. The man (or perhaps something else entirely?) lets out a soft chuckle as he feels you.
“Mm-” He grunts out, pressing a tender kiss on your hand before letting it free. Those overlarge palms of his move onto your other, and you’re almost about to repeat the movements of removing your glove on that one - before he tugs on the material at your ring finger. Pinching it delicately between his own digits, and tugging it down off.
Undressing you.
He grunts once more, “Mngh-” Something indiscernible, but to him it makes perfect sense.
In motions that feel like eons, he guides your hands - as light as feathers - to place them upon his own chest. Where you could feel a beating heart.
Ba-dump—!
Ba-dump—!
Ba-dump—!
Racing.
Heaving chest. Bleeding stitches.
And you didn’t realize until then that you’d been shaking.
Eyes widened, you whisper. “Who hurt you?”
A few minutes later and you were barging into Geto Suguru’s decadent bedroom, where you found him deep in conversation with his brother - something or the other about the Royal Medical Society, not that you could give a damn right about now.
“The man!” You’re calling out, uncaring whether you interrupt. You feel so faint that you have to lean against the doorway to fully speak, “The man-”
Geto’s mouth parts, “You saw him…”
And that’s what keeps you walking forwards, until you’re almost nose-to-nose with Geto- and his brother is the one that has to tug you back by your elbows. “The man- is he patient? A victim?” Tone reaching something shrill that neither man has ever heard from you before, “His wounds- you wounded him like that-”
“No, no, no—” Geto’s clapping both hands on your shoulders and attempting to get you to look at him straight. But you almost couldn’t - his amethyst eyes weren’t how you remembered them, and his hair was askew. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have almost said that he looked crazed- “It was the world that hurt him, my dear, not I- I—” Pointing at himself now, “-merely gave him life.”
As you take a few steps backwards in shock, he’s looking at you fully.
“I gave him life.”
Later, Geto gave you a showcase of the ‘creature’ as he’d called it. He’d explained to you his rapid healing, the immense strength that seemed to have been an aftereffect of the storm. And when you’d pointedly asked him why he was chained was here-
“It doesn’t know any better-” Geto had off-handedly replied.
“But, Suguru…” You bore no mind to the hardening expression on his face, crouching down to clasp the giant’s hand. Your heart flutters as he presses your silken gloves back into your hands from where he’d removed them earlier. Caressing you, “-you know better.”
“Suguru, is he intelligent?” His brother asks, warily watching the interaction between you and…this beast. His brother had mentioned it had the mind of a twenty-eight-year-old, so did that mean he could also feel…
To which the surgeon doesn’t reply.
“Suguru, is he intelligent?”
That very night, you snuck out to meet him.
You found the giant glumly hunched over the streams that ran through the dungeon, his long fingers toying with the crisp autumn leaves that had fluttered from the surface above. You watch as he plucks them delicately by the step, chains rattling as he kisses them down onto the water below. Like a little boat that tips and rows right up to you.
He’d flinched as he saw you, you remember now.
Before you’d cast him a gentle smile, and the creation had nervously returned it.
Once you got closer, he’d reached his hand up to - trembling. Shaking at the very thought of human contact, and yet, he’d handed you—
“A leaf?” You’re breathing out in excitement, and the man looks down when you take it. “For me?”
He’d grunted in affirmation.
“Thank you.”
After a few seconds of admiring the leaf by your lantern, you’d taken it up and pressed it to your lips. Humming ever-so-slightly.
“And what can I give back to you, hm?” You’d wondered out loud, “Oh! I know—”
That night, you’d introduced yourself.
Ultimately, Geto’s brother had decided to stay and monitor the situation - and with it, you did, too. Not quite to ‘monitor the situation’ as he had put it, but rather to keep an eye on…him.
You didn’t know when ‘him’ had turned from Geto to the monster within Geto’s basement.
And yet, here you were.
It was you who visited the creation every night, sneaking out when all the lanterns had been dimmed and sleep had befallen the mansion as your only cover. You’d grip a torch of your own in one hand, and in the other would be a cup of ointment.
“Why hello—” You’d croon out, as soon as you caught sight of his hunched figure on the ground. Still chained - you were working on finding the key to it one of these days. And if worse comes to worse, you’d gnaw through those damned shackles if you had to.
You were on the verge to-
“And how have you been today?” You’d beam up at the pale figure, and he’d beam right back - all thirty-two pearly white teeth on full display. With your hands gentle on his limbs, you’re soothing your fingers underneath the unyielding gaps in the circular restraints around his wrist. Dabbing a bit of ointment on so that it would get all the purpleish skin, “Oh, that awful awful man!”
“Awful-” He’d nod, voice scratchy as it pronounced this new word. “Awful awful.”
It would make you chuckle, “And I’m just as awful, aren’t I? Only teaching you awful words?”
The creation’s eyebrows were pale, but you could still make out the way they knit together underneath the medical light. Fervently shaking his head from side to side, “Awful-” He shakes his head even harder, “Awful- not.”
“You say that I’m not awful, hm?” You bring a hand up to your mouth and titter, “Oh my, you’re quite the flatterer, aren’t you?”
And you’re not quite sure whether the giant understood what exactly that word meant, but he blushes all the way down the back of his neck like he does. Such a pretty pink. Rose pink.
Seeing it, you raise an amused brow. “Oh? Quite shy for a flatterer, hm?” Without thinking much of it - and oh, you really should think more when it comes to him - you reach out and glide the softness of your fingertips down his smooth neck. “No, it’s more like you’re just…sweet?”
With a shiver, he’s leaning up to your touch. “Sweet- sweet. My love- sweet.”
And there was that.
You’re not quite sure where he’d learned that particular pet name - my love - or whether it was a creation of his own beautiful mind. But he’d started to refer to you by it a few days ago, and had preferred it to your name ever since.
You’re reaching your hand back- only for him to clasp your fingers once more with his. Only to put them on his body once more.
With a kindly smile, you repeat your name.
“My love.” His gruff voice answers.
And you repeat it.
“My love.”
And you repeat it.
“My love.”
With such a fond sigh, you try to take a different route. “Geto Suguru.”
“Awful, awful man.”
“Hah! Well, at least you have the merit to get that one correct, hm?” You’re humming at him, and removing your hands from his neck to play with his massive fingers instead. The both of you were sitting facing each other, upon the cold marble ledge that Geto had intended to serve as his creation’s bed, you suppose. A sudden idea pops into your mind, “And what about your name?”
He cocks his head, “My love?”
“That’s my name, isn’t it?” You shake your head, tracing out the letters of both your actual name and his lil’ nickname on the surface of his palm. Once you’re done, you close his palm. “What about your name?”
“My…” He starts, and something seems to strangle at the back of his throat. It must be difficult, you guess, to speak out of a voicebox that was not your own. “Sa—weet.”
“Sweet?” You ask.
The giant lightly grunts, “Sa…sweet- Sat—weet.” He shakes his head, and you could practically feel the frustration that radiated off of him.
“Hey hey—” You thumb down his palm once more, and he’s looking up at you with such depth. Such raw emotion in those summer-blue eyes; still unprotected from the roughness of a world that has been nothing but cruel to him. Cooing, “It’s alright—you can take your time.”
“Sa-weet.” He’s croaking out once more, one hand coming up to his throat- and the other hand pressing into your open palm. He draws out the letters that he was aiming to speak into existence. “Sa…to—ru.”
Your eyes widen in shock at his decision, and he looks at you intently.
“Sa—to—ru.” Patterning out two more syllables, “Go—jo.”
“Gojo Satoru?” You ask the man who has picked his own name.
“Gojo Satoru.” He repeats, still slightly rough around the edges. And the giant- Gojo, breaks out into a smile that feels like sunlight against your skin. And his hand- it ends up cupping your cheek, he presses his cold forehead to yours. Breathing you in. “Gojo Satoru, my love.”
You swear you’ve never felt your heart race faster.
After that particular night, you’d taken it upon yourself to teach Gojo as much of the language as you could.
Night after night, you lugged down - not just ointment and your lamp now - books as well. If there was one blessing in this entire laboratory, then it was the fact that its libraries were generous with their bounty for you to raid. And for Gojo, as well.
Gojo—you supposed there were two blessings in this laboratory, after all.
It was tragedy after romance novel after historical novel that the two of you swept through.
You’d read in your lilting voice, and Gojo would listen - sometimes with his eyes peacefully shut, and his breath evening out so that you weren’t sure whether he was asleep or not. And whenever you stopped to check- he never was.
He’d peer at you with wide blue eyes and query, “My love?” And that was all it took to get you reading again, no matter how scratchy your voicebox felt.
You’d found that Gojo was partial to romance novels the most (yes, even the somewhat…steamier ones), and he vengefully loved a good tragedy, too (though you’d have to let him hold you afterwards, face pushed into the crook of your neck, and his large tears wetting your thin night gown). “You would never-” He’d gasp out through powerful sobs, always feeling pain so deep. “You will always stay by my side, my love?”
“Always.”
He’d lace his dominant hand with yours, “Always- always.” Pressing his forehead to yours once more, lips mere centimeters away. You could taste his icy breath, “I belong with you.”
Times like this you almost remembered why Geto kept calling Gojo ‘The Strongest’, because even his slightest hold would be enough to make your joints pop!
But then his teary eyes would take in the split-second wince on your face, and he’d immediately be loosening his grip once more.
He was never just The Strongest to you.
He picked up on language quickly, given that he had the mind of a twenty-eight-year-old. It was as if he’d just been borne into existence as such, merely manifested.
A man in every way except how his creator treated him.
You admit that you didn’t get much sleep during those golden weeks- hell, your fiancé had started questioning whether you were ill after overseeing your bouts of sleepiness during the morning. And you had an inkling that Geto had already guessed, by the way that he’d been staring at you from afar…but he hadn’t caused trouble for you.
Just yet.
You remember that night as if it was just yesterday - it was your last night with Gojo Satoru, of course.
You’d spent particularly long in the dungeon with him that night, even after reading your book you’d stayed behind to simply converse with the gentle giant, all the while tugging and fidgeting with his shackles in an attempt to somehow break them free.
Break him free.
“My love?” Gojo’s asking in his husky voice, ragged. He peers down through his long lashes at what exactly you were doing with his hands - and he lets you do whatever you want. It was you, you could do anything to him. Anything.
You’re looking up at his coos, “Oh- my apologies, Gojo-”
“Satoru.”
“Satoru.” You manage a smile at his tenacity, “Was I hurting you?”
“No.”
“And you’re not lying.”
“No.”
“And you would tell me if I was the one hurting you?”
“…No.”
He grins at your exasperation - it’s true, the way you rolled your eyes with a groan was highly unlady-like, but you didn’t quite care when you were with him. When you were with him, you didn’t quite care about anything else, to be honest. “Oh, Satoru—” You’re cupping his gorgeous face, finally letting go of those restraints that bothered you so much. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Mn.” He grunts, leaning his head in real close so that he could sniff at the flowery scent of your hair. “My love—” Hushly whispering out, “My love, my love, my love.”
“Satoru.” You’re breathing out, equally as quiet.
And then he’s tugging on his restraints, letting some of the screws fall off - easily, considering your tampering all these past few weeks - only to loop his strong arms as much as he could around you. You’re being pulled to his firm chest, feeling each rippling muscle through your thin nightgown. “My love—my love.” It’s like gospel to him.
Your mouth parts ever-so-slightly, something heating up within you. And looking deep into his dilated eyes, you attempt to say something. “Satoru, I…”
He presses his lips to yours in an instant.
In that gaze of his, you saw a need that matched yours.
In that distance of his, you heard the tearing of restraints.
.
.
.
“O-oh—” You’re cupping a hand over your gaping mouth, voice heightening the very second that Gojo’s able to get his ravenous hands on you.
The very second that he’s shoving your nightgown further up your body, bearing your body exposed.
For him…he’s running his jittering palms down both of your breasts. For him for—where your stomach was, down both sides of your hips. For him for him for him. Down to your legs where he’d missed a key part of you.
But before you can huff out in need, Gojo’s scooping you up in his arms and gently splaying you out on his marble bed. The surface is quite frigid against your back, and it makes you inadvertently smear your legs all open.
Oh-so-lecherously open.
All Gojo needs it so take a mere whiff before he’s salivating down his chin at the smell of your sweet, sweet pussy. You’re watching him wipe away the burnished lacquer of spittle with the back of his hand-
“I never…” He’s gasping out, each word guttural and chopped as if being wrenched from the very back of his throat. Gojo hoists himself onto the bed, and towers above you casually. “In all my time here, I’ve yet to feel real h-hunger, my love.”
You supposed that was because of his superhuman body, and you’re wondering why he’s telling you this right now. “I’m…glad, Satoru. Would you like me to perhaps bring you something different next ti-”
“But now, I’ve never felt more starved in my life.”
Oh—
And before you know it, he’s moving. He’s moving his head down until it was nothing but a blur of white and pure carnal need.
Darting straight towards the target of your pretty pussy-
You were just drippin’ wet by this point, and Gojo doesn’t even warn you before he’s surging his nose deep between your pussy and aiming to lick away every single sopping ounce.
“O-oh—fuck!” You’re squealing out, the moment you feel his wet tastebuds sizzle against your core. Gojo was just swiping the pinkish tip of his crown between your pussylips and lavishing it all over in precisely the way he’d eat his favorite dessert. His favorite strawberry. His favorite cream pie. “I s-swear I got you enough of those sweets you love tonight-”
“But not this one.”
And you don’t know exactly what parts Geto had fitted onto his body- but Gojo’s savoring tongue just felt so looooong. Famished. Ramming it into every tiny nook n’ cranny of your outer pussy, forcing his face even deeper between your pretty legs. “Oh, I’ve yet to taste something so sweet.”
Those wads of your slick clung onto the lower half of Gojo’s handsome face, making it look as though he’d just dunked his head into a pool. And the more you’re attempting to push away his sweaty bangs and take a good look at him, the further he’s rovering. “Fuh-fuck, Satoru- oh my god, Satoru, slow down.” You’re panting, “You need to breathe-”
“Is it entirely necessary?”
And yet, it still wasn’t enough for him.
You don’t even know how but he was so dexterous opening you up.
Swirlin’ aside your puffy folds so that he could get to your hole - start filling up your hole.
Pushing and pushing and pushing—
Gojo huffs through his nostrils - right up against your swollen clit - when your snug channel naturally resists the intrusion. He couldn’t fit in more than an inch of his prolonged tongue, and the challenge makes him furrow his snowy brows. “Why isn’t it…” Almost muttering to himself, before he’s spitting a slick wad of saliva straight down onto your core. Splat! “Is this it—? Will this work-”
And then with both knobbly edges of his thumbs pryin’ aside your pussylips, he’s attempting to shovel even more of his tongue inside. “Oh heavens- Satoru, what did I tell you about breathing-”
“But s’just not fitting, my love.” Ah- at this point, his words were just slurred. And you swear his kiss-bitten lip pops out in what looked like a pout. “I don’t care if I don’t breathe if it just- hah, doesn’t go in-”
As if to prove his point, Gojo’s staring straight into your dazed eyes whilst he fucks your pussy with his tongue. Sharp jawline hanging wide open, slithering the pinkish edge of his tongue ‘round and ‘rooooound your hole a few times.
Before he hiccups, “S-see?” Just so sloppily, the giant is attempting to flop his thick muscle inside your leaky entrance. “S’not going in s’not going in- and fuck! how badly I want it to go in…”
“Oh, fuck…” You breathe, “I really am a bad influence- now I have you cussing from that pretty mouth.”
He was also whining into your cunt from that pretty mouth, begging you to take him more seriously. With both of his overlarge palms flattened on your thighs, Gojo’s just slightly slipping on the sheen of slick plastered to your skin as he spreads you all the more open for him. Like a feast-
“Well, if you really want to- hngh!” Just as you begin to speak, he’s funneling his tongue an inch or two deeper. The most sleazy expression upon Gojo’s face as his wet muscle reels back- only to do it all over again. “How cheeky, Satoru- if you really want to fit it a-all in, then you have to stretch me, y’know?”
“Streeetch?” Gojo blubbers out between your pussylips, his maw practically glued to your core by now. It was just too cute the way you’d splash all over him whenever he sent those vibrations right up your cunt, and he looked down at your entrance in interest. “So like- thiiiiiiis?”
“Oh fuuuuuck—” With your voice crackling as you keen, you’re immediately letting your body arch into the most perfect curvature.
Because Gojo Satoru had his rough index and thumb pinched over your puffy clit and drag-drag-draaaaagging that nub. Zaps of pleasure make you see white as he rolls it between both digits, “Like this, my love?” Gojo’s whispering, “Or—more-”
“Yes- no- yes.” By now, you can’t do anything but buck- oh, how did it get to this? He’s been the one that was easily pussydrunk with only a few laps, but now you were the one reaping its consequences.
Purely speechless on the way he was teasin’ your pretty clit, you’re reaching your dominant hand down and gripping onto Gojo’s white locks. Roughly - but if the way he purely moaned when he felt the sensation was anything to go by, then he loved it. “Yes, like that- ngh. But that’s not exactly what I meant, Satoru.”
“What did you mean then, my love?” He’s asking, eagerly.
And a faint satisfaction washes over you at the fact that you’re going to be the one to teach Gojo Satoru how to play with your pussy.
You flutter your lashes down at him, “First lesson is- you have to get me wet enough.” Not that he quite needed that lesson, for you were wet enough that your sap was oozing out of you and sticking onto his face in oodles by now.
But it just feels so good having him purse his rosy lips and splattering a straight ribbon down onto your cunt, smearing it with none other than his lips. “And then?”
“S-second lesson-” Shivering, you’re tugging his face closer - and The Strongest lets you. “Take it sloooow and easy with that tongue, Satoru. Just like- mmm, fuck!” But just a singular lap at your treacly pussy, and Gojo was all but plastered to it.
Lavishing your front with licks. Swiping and snapping his tongue allllll over every crevice.
He was letting his tastebuds enter wherever you’d let him, blue peripherals rolling right to the back of his skull at the candied taste that was filling his throat. And Gojo has the audacity to fight against it and whine when you’re briefly attempting to tug him off, “Just one more-” He pants out, with a wettened plop! when he attaches his maw to your cunt once more. “One more lick-” And once more. “Just one more taste-” And once more. “One more sweet kiss-”
And once more.
Eventually you can’t do anything but throw your head back and shrill—“Not adequately following the lessons will result in- in barring you from my pussy-”
And then he’s removing himself with a gasp! “No- no no no no-” Grabbing onto either side of your waist - and you’re unsure whether that’s to keep himself at bay, or to keep you from running away. “Please don’t- I beg of you, please don’t. I need this pretty pussy, my love…”
“Then you’ll listen, hm?” You ask, to which the powerful being doggedly nods. “Alright then, commencing- he second lesson is to take it slow with your tongue. Just stretch out my entrance—oh.”
And this time his tastebuds were sizzling against yours in slow, sensual motions. In circles and cute hearts- you swear your pupils were dazedly following along with the movements within the whites of your eyes.
“Like- like this, my love?” He eagerly pants out, scorching breath hitting you from all angles. Luxuriously salivating into every tiny crevice within your channel- not just impatiently trying to fit in. Slick and satisfying with his plump tip squeezin’ inside. “Is this, mmmm, adequate enough for you?”
“Yes- yes yes yes.” You’re moaning with your head thrown back, “And now ngh, if you could just put your fingers on my clit now…”
“Is that a lesson?” Genuinely asking - he’s raising a pale brow, wafting his hand closer and closer to where you wanted him the most. Genuinely letting his mouth water at the notion - “Oh, please let that be a lesson- please. I love this cute lil’ clit.”
You’re nodding your head along with just as much desperation, “Yes- fuck yes, it’s a lesson.”
And the words have barely even left your mouth, you’ve barely even thought to close your gaping mouth - before Gojo’s cupping your cunt with highly-trained reflexes and teasin’ your clit. His lengthy fingers roll over that knobbly nub, in circular motions that make you buck atop him-
“Oh- oh look—” He’s marveling out at something, awe-struck. It takes you every shred of will in your body to actually tilt your head downwards and see what he was talking about. And Gojo? Gojo was just fixated on the sultry way that his tongue was shovelling even deeper between your pussylips, the friction letting his tastebuds massage your velvety walls. “Look it actually works- ngh, your lessons are benefiting me- ngh, quite greatly, my love.”
“Happy to help…” Blearily, you’re rutting your hips up in a sloppy staccato to chase that white-hot pleasure thrumming in your veins.
Something that Gojo happily welcomes, if the way he was roverin’ his sweaty head even closer told you anything. “And then?” He pants out, his nose rubbin’ all over the leaky slit of your cunt. “And then what- what next, my love, what next? Anything to do with this sweet pussy drives me wild.”
You take one look into his darkened eyes - blue irises damn near black by now - and shiver. “And lesson number…”
“Four.”
“Four is that you can t-try to use your fingers to help fit inside.” One more look- though, this time it’s at Gojo’s incredibly-sized fingertips. Far larger than any other human man, and the way they just curved dexterously inwards made you want to gulp. “Slowly, however.”
He purrs, “Slowly it is, my love.”
And you might have made Gojo Satoru agree to slowly—but you didn’t speak a word of him being nice, did you?
Within mere sultry seconds, he has the tip of his middle hooked ‘round the rim of your entrance. Using slight strength, Gojo’s stretching you wiiiide open- “Oh.” Gasping straight into the quivering orifice of your hole. “Oh, my love, you’re right.”
He’s then jutting his pointed chin straight between your puffy pussylips, letting his long tongue splosh! inside. “You’re right- it really does go even deeper. Oh, I wonder what it should be like if I put two fingers in-”
“T-two of your fingers?” You’re snapping your head up to gawp.
“Oh, but don’t worry.” Gojo shoots you a dazzling smile - literally, he was drenched in so many candied layers of your slick. Intently, “I’ll be reeeeeal slow.”
“O-oh, fuck.”
He’s swabbin’ away two of his doughy fingertips- right along with his tongue now. Again. And again. And again and again. Pressing into every speck and spot inside of you, Gojo’s digits manage to scissor your channel wide open, whilst the texture of his tastebuds were creating a feral sort of texture that drove you wild.
Spittle dangles down the side of your maw, “Oh- oh my god.” Babbling away almost nonsensically, just the most sinful noises leave you any time that Gojo was thrusting his thick digits in and out. In and out. In and out. “Oh heavens, I’ve never felt something so gooood, Toru.”
“Mmm, and that sounds good.” The tips of his ears blush a cute crimson shyly at the nickname - all the while he had his face nose-deep into your cunt and lapping you like a madman.
Sticking his fat tongue in every time he fingered open your cunt, hooking his muscle up to your gooey roof. Shoving. Shoving. So hard that glittery speckles of your slick escape and strike the tops of his cheekbones. And he just couldn’t get enough- with a growl he’s dragging you back mercilessly in for even more.
Adding in a third finger—
“Sh-shiiiit, Satoru-” You’re all but bawling, “I don’t think m’gonna last too long-”
“And the fifth lesson?” He’s hissing out in response, just as urgent as you. With his honed senses, he could practically smell the pure carnal need in your pheromones, “What should be the fifth lesson, my love? Please, I must hear it with my own two ears- I must-”
“The f-fifth lesson…” Head dizzy. Pupils whirling. “The fifth lesson s’to make me cum, Satoru.”
And he doesn’t think he’s heard sweeter words.
With a particularly haaaaard push of his fingers, all the way down to his bases, Gojo’s sticking his rounded fingertips straight against your throbbing g-spot. Where you’d been waiting for him for so long. Where he barely even has to graze that awaiting spot before you’re bursting into your sudden high.
“C-cumming—” Your shrill voice echoes out in the dungeon - not that you cared at this point. And your body unlatches from the now-warm bed to riiiide all of Gojo’s pretty face through your high, “M’cumming m’cumming m’cumming, Toru.”
“And s’all because of me-”
Proudly, Gojo’s letting himself be used to cover your sweet, sweet sensations of bliss. Any time he could feel your geysering orifice clench ‘round him- he’s only thrusting his fingers in harder.
Only licking over your bundle of nerves even more.
Slurp-slurp-slurp—you’re barely even midway through your wave of euphoria before Gojo finds himself already finished licking up your beaded ounces of slick. And without a second thought, he’s shoving himself back in between your legs with his tongue mazin’ inside. “Should be able to fit myself in- hah- now, huh?” He murmurs to himself, through just the slightest muffled gaps between his maw and his cunt. “Go inside- go inside go inside go inside-”
You’re strangling out a squeal as he ends up bottoming out his lengthy tongue, “So much of you…ngh, Toru, you fill me up like nothing else-” Thrust after thrust after thrust.
“And it’s the only thing I want to do.” Hammering away where you were the most sensitive. “To bring your pretty pussy so much loving.”
Before Gojo finds himself stuffing your cunt to the brim with his fingers and his tongue- and you’re barely through with your first high before already bursting into your second.
This one was unexpected, and it explodes through your body from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Your entire body heating up about several more degrees, just like putty ‘round his constantly hitting digits - with such precision whenever he’s striking your g-spot.
It passes through in synchronization with your initial orgasm, a brief flash behind your eyelids- before it’s petering out to nothing but a few overstimulated zings!
“P-please-” You sob out, clawing at his perspired scalp. “I don’t think I can cum again, Satoru- fuck, I don’t possess the stamina for that-”
“You do not?” Genuinely in disbelief.
“You’re just much more- ngh, enduring than me.” Blurting out, and it takes you both of your hands to even nudge Gojo away from where he was wetting your orifice with his tongue. All over again, as though he was still set on the idea of tugging out a third orgasm from you. “But if we do it now, then I’ll let you put something else in my-”
He unglues from your pussy with a loud, lecherous mwah!
“As you wish, my love.”
Oh—and then you’re being manhandled. You thought that Gojo Satoru was being feral with you before?
Not at all, you’re actually realizing that he’d been going easy on you. He’d been holding himself back. So fast that you barely even register what’s happening, Gojo’s rip-rip-riiiiipping your poor nightgown straight down the middle, throwing it somewhere behind him.
Raising himself up on his haunches. And then a hand falls to the robe around his pelvis-
“Oh my…” You’re squeaking out in surprise, eyes widening as the white fabric unravels for Gojo to reveal himself completely. Even when he had that on, you’d assumed that he was quite…sizeable - it was only pertinent, after all, the rest of him was quite exceptional in size as well - height, weight, power.
But this?
This just made your jaw drop, and your mind immediately goes to curse at the man that had created him. Eyes greedily following the stitches that held together his muscular torso and v-line, you can’t help but let them dip lower…and lower…and lower.
The prominent stitches between his lower and upper halves.
Those ladder-like abs that decorated his core.
The trail of his white happy trail.
The base where they ended in a thick cock.
Long.
With a handful of veins starting out from his pelvis, and snaking all the way down his nine - perhaps even ten - inches. They loop all over his shaft, so hard that you could visibly count every throb. As if all the blood had left his man-made body and ended up in his cock.
Ended up in his blushin’ red tip that glazed with a fresh lacquer of precum. Twitching at the intensity of your stare-
“I-is something the matter, my love?” Gojo interrupts your ogling, “Is something not to your liking- oh, is it because eating you out made me cum just a lil’ bit?”
Your mouth opens, but you don’t know what to say.
And Gojo’s swipin’ his thumb down his mushroomy tip, smearing away a few remnant beads of white. “Because I apologize that I’m so weak for-”
“No!” You’re interrupting his apology instantly - he had absolutely nothing to apologize for. In fact…you rather found it pleasurable that making out with your pussy made him cream right in his pants. Clearing your throat, “No- you don’t have to apologize for anything, Satoru. It’s just…”
“Yes?”
“You’re so big.”
“Oh.” He looks down at himself as if he never realized- and when he looks up, you’re jolted to your very core to realize that Gojo Satoru was smiling. “As long as we have the five rules, right?”
“R-right- oh.”
The confirmation is barely letting off from your lips before Gojo’s hulking figure grabs at your squirmy body and slap-slap-slaps! his creamy tip between your folds. Just nudgin’ away the curvature of his tip between them, he gets a taste of your heated cunt and all but breaks.
Shivers. Shatters.
He unfastens his mouth as if he was about to say something- before immediately gnawing down on his lower lip and rutting. Like an animal.
Like he was in fucking heat—Gojo’s attempting to swirl his strawberry divot inside. “Oh—oh…” He grunts out something primal from the back of his throat, every slight buck between your legs making Gojo let off a pained noise - he needed to be inside you right now. “Oh- so this is what a pretty pussy feels like. This is what your pretty pussy feels like-”
“Aaaand?” You’re cooing out, wrangling onto his sculptured deltoids. “How does it f-”
“Like heaven.”
He’s managing to bully in a single inch inside your tight cunt- completely forgetting whatever sinful ‘lessons’ you’d just taught him moments prior. Just that pussydrunk.
And just the first measurement of his swollen, fattened cock inside your pussy - just the first sensation of your walls all wrapped around his cock…
And you think you might just have broken The Strongest.
Because Gojo’s then throwing his head back and cumming- dolloping out a thick layer of his sap deeeep inside where you could feel it move about. His honed tip enters your hole perfectly, layering out his slick.
“C-cum—ngh.” Just the cutest noises leave him, and you swear you’re catching his face stain with a single tear or two just at the sensation of putting it inside. “M’cumming.”
“I- hah- know, Toru.” Fuck…you shouldn’t have said that. Because that only makes his twitchy tip flinch just a bit more inside your walls before beading out his hot pearly cum, the slickness of it already overspilling from your entrance.
That cascade of liquid echoes out just the slightest sultry noise - the slightest.
And yet Gojo’s snapping a single look down your glistening cunt and giggling—“S-so that’s what it is.” He’s rasping out- goosebumps skitter all across your body as you register the way his tone sounded…octaves higher. Sounded as if he was almost crazed.
Without any warning, he’s then lightly easing his shivering hips back and shoving- “So tha’s what it is. So tha’s what it is. Why h-has it never occurred to me prior?” Fucking his gooey wads back in. You weren’t sure whether he was talking to you or himself, before he’s plunging out a few more vulgar strikes with just his dribblin’ rose-colored tip. “That’s what it is, my love.”
“What is- hngh, what-” That final sentence of his was punctuated by the sloppiest stripes of pre, taken inside your channel with slurping noises.
He’s boring straight into your eyes with his dilated pupils. Almost glowing. Almost animalistic. Before you’re able to repeat your question once more- Gojo’s clogging up your throat with his hammerin’ away. Nothing more than three inches inside of you (for now) and still rendering you stupid. “It’s that… One of his hands claws down your front, feeling for himself as he sinks in. “I don’t know if I believe in any h-higher power, but if I did—then it’d be you, my love.”
“Oh my- fuck!” Both that hand on your stomach and his free one then grope onto your hips and slam you down to meet his greedy hips.
“It would be you-” He’s panting out, his own personal chant. Through half-lidded eyes, Gojo watches the way his thickened cock slips n’ slides into your tight orifice. Cum and slick pouring out like madness, “It would be this pretty pussy- oh, the way she’s taking me- I could worship your cunt every single day of my life and die with no regrets.”
Panting out, “D-don’t say that-”
You could feel him enveloping every single hidden sweet spot inside of your walls, Gojo didn’t even have to try to get his flared ridge to open you up juuust right. “I will.” He seethes, something absolutely ruined in his tone- you might just be right in thinking that you’ve broken him. “I will- unless you command it, my goddess.”
“O-oh my—fuck.” With your back arching into Gojo’s sculpted front - all toned abs and rippling obliques - you felt as though you were at his complete mercy. “Do you- do you even remember the lessons, Satoru-”
“Of course, I remember the lessons.”
His tone was one that was offended you should even ask.
And with his nose crinkled handsomely in slight concentration, Gojo’s then rattling off those very lessons - while doing his very best to disregard them. “First- hah, first lesson is to get your pussy wet enough.”
“And?” You’re raising a brow, just to see what he would do.
“And…” Gojo lays his eyes down on the vision of your glistening cunt and almost snickers - you were just so aroused that your pussylips were shimmering with your sweet, sweet sap. He then proceeds to crane his neck down and still spit a great glob of saliva down onto your cunt. “-completed.”
“Oh—” He was checking those lessons off like boxes. You just wondered what would be there for you by the very end.
“Second lesson-” Gojo continues, “-take it sloooooow and easy.”
You nod, “S-slow and easy.”
“Oh, but how m’I expected to when your pussy fuh-feels like ngh- this, my love?” He’s genuinely pondering, with his brows knitted and his tongue darting out in thought. “It just feels so good that- hck! slowing down should be punishable by the law. I would rather be chained and whipped than slow do-”
“Satoru!”
And you can only watch as Gojo’s eyes brighten up, “Oh! I know-”
That’s when he’s easing the sinking of his cock—eeeeeasing, ever-so-slightly. Just for a laaaaanguid stroke, two, three, four-
Before you’re once more being pounded silly by his massive intrusion, “There- there.” Gojo babbles out with a pussydrunken smile, all dopey and blushing. “I took it slow and easy- fuck, it even had me fitting in an inch more, my love, did your pussy notice?”
“Fuck yes, I did.” You’re whining, arching your hips up into his. “And now you’re going- fuck, you’re going so f-fast again-”
“Well, you never proclaimed that I must go slowly the entire time.” Basking in his own personal victory, the loophole he’d discovered, he accelerates his hips even more. The rotund crown of his tip poking into you viciously, “Rather an oversight on your hngh- part, don’t you think, my love?”
“Rather, yes.”
“But it’s alright-” He nuzzles you with his attractive nose, “-I should do well to excel in the third lesson. The ah-”
“F-fingers on my clit.”
But of course, Gojo Satoru didn’t forget. Of course he merely wanted to hear you say it in that pretty, whiny voice of yours whilst you were being fucked by him- “What was that?” Gojo cranes his head down, the tips of his bangs tickling your face. “I’m afraid I cannot hear you clearly over your cunt-”
“Fingers on my, mmm, clit!” You’re yelping out, “I want your fingers on my-”
“Oh, you never need to beg with me, my love.”
Such a tease- when did your sweet Gojo become such a tease? Become so damn mean? Snickering at the look on your face, he reaches down and gently pinches your clit.
Moaning at the lewd way you buck, “Ah- is that not adequate enough? Do you wish for mooooore?”
“Yes, more-” You’re gasping, “More more more more-”
“Oh.” And it makes a part of his over-hard cock jolt right against your walls, burying himself just a few more inches down your walls. “As you wish, my love.”
The flatness of Gojo’s thumb was now glued to your nub, and you’re seeing white at the sheer amount of pressure being put on your lower half. He runs a hand across your drivelling wet cunt, right atop your folds, in-between your slit, snaggin’ apart your cute clit and pressing down-down-down.
“Reminds me of your other lesson.” He coos out, shivering at the lecherous way your expression twists every time his bulbous tip entered you. “Reminds me to- hah, to use my—fingers.”
“Toru, for this I don’t believe you need to—mmmpf, fuck.”
You’re biting back your words- in fact, your words are being fucked right back into you. “The fourth- hah, fourth lesson.” Gojo’s whispering as his thumb darts down in rubbing motions from your clit and to your hole. “The fourth lesson the- ngh, the fourth.” Almost reminding himself, almost holding himself back whenever his fingertip was getting a taste of your sweetened cunt-
And he’s reeling that hand upwards to lick off the polished wet excess.
With those tips of his now coated in a gleaming layer of saliva, Gojo manages to curl his thumb inside and pry apart your entrance a lil’ further. Just a lil’ more.
Just enough for him to give you another hard push and finally bottom-out.
His tufts of pearly white curls scritch-scratch against your cunt, and you’re driven absolutely crazy by the carnal feeling of having all of Gojo Satoru deep and throbbing inside of you. He’s managing to fill out every single crevice like never before, a loooooong length that ends with his reddish tip kissin’ at your spongy cervix.
“O-oh my fuck-” Even as you breathe, you can feel him stuffed inside of you. You try to run your palm down your front, and you swear you can almost feel him from the outside.
The giant sploshes out a hefty wad of pre that adds to the mess already leaking out of you - and you might have thought that Gojo would feel awe-struck at the filthy sight below you, you might have thought that Gojo would babble away at it.
But instead he’s just so…quiet.
Gojo Satoru has his head hunched, his ivory bangs covering his eyes, his biceps quivering as if they were on the verge of collapsing—
You take in the sheer amount of his ragged breaths, as if he’d just run across town five hundred times. “Satoru-” You tug on his shoulders- and when that doesn’t rouse him, you’re moving onto shifting apart his bangs to take a good look at his flushed face. “Satoru, are you okay- oh, shit.”
One look into his eyes.
One look into his drunken, predatory eyes-
And that’s all it takes for Gojo Satoru’s entire body to jolt- for Gojo Satoru’s entire body to be electrified as if he’d just been brought to life a thousand times over. Startled into motion. Breaths catching.
He’s moving mechanically, robotically, to throw both your legs over his broad shoulders and suddenly bend, bend, bend, bend—
“I don’t even know what I’m doing.” He utters out into the saturated air, words nothing but a whisper. Eyes wide. Mouth gaped. A slow dribble of saliva down the side of his mouth gives you the urge to lick it off- but before you can do anything about that temptation, Gojo’s rutting—using that kinetic force to push you even deeper in half. “I don’t even know what I’m doing-”
Till your knees hit your tits, and your chin hits your collarbones.
And you can only cry out as Gojo fucks you at a constant rhythm, feral. “You- you don’t realize that you’ve just folded me into the hck! meanest mating press, Toru?”
“No.”
He’s bullying his hot girth into you- thump-thump-thumping away directly near the back of your womb. And if that wasn’t enough, his split-ended tip found itself grazing your favorite g-spot as well, again. And again. And again and again and again.
“I don’t even know why- ngh.” He’s choking up at the feeling of your walls closing in on him, your sopping pussy holding him completely hostage by this point. One hand of his was rolling his fingers over your clit, and the other glides down your core. “I don’t know why it’s just…”
You’re gulping once his hand comes to a stop right above where his bulbous tip was ending out at your cervix. Thudding away-
“-m’getting this sudden urge to breed you, my love.”
Oh.
And perhaps it was the feeling of his perfectly vein-decorated cock getting to you, perhaps it was the way his probin’ eyes felt almost hypnotic. And yet you can’t help but open your mouth with a whiny- “Yes.” Locking your ankles firmly ‘round his neck, he’s ramming and ramming his hips into yours with a groan. “Breed me then, Satoru. Give me your- hck! child.”
“Oh, my love…” Gojo’s spit-slicked maw drops. “Oh, my heaven- oh, my life—” His forehead plasters against yours, scalding breath fanning your face. “You’d be lucky if I gave you just one.”
“I p-presume I won’t be making it out of this alive-”
Gojo doesn’t confirm nor deny, only drilling into you like such a madman.
It was in his natural instinct to breed you until his silvery tip felt all red and raw. The only thing he had to do was bottom-out at the spongy layer of your womb to activate that carnal part of him that wanted to see you all round n’ glowing with his child.
With his strings of precum splashing out at the bottom of your cunt as if a premonition of something much stronger. And Gojo can only plant smack after smack of his rounded, ruby-red tip at the base of your pussy. Those goopy layers suckin’ him in- “Haaaah, m’not even completely certain that it can be done.” He admits, thoroughly pressuring his hips against yours. “And yet- I hope you know that I won’t be letting you go until we make it happen…?”
“Make it happen?” You gulp.
“Mhmmm—I’ll stay here and pound you against this marble as long as I need to. Won’t stop even when your gorgeous shape’s dug into the stone, if by then you’re still not p-pregnant.” Such filthy words, and after each syllable he places a solid sultry flick upon your clit.
It makes you dribble out your sap like a faucet, “If I can’t sense your pretty cunt taking my seed. If I can feel the space inside of you. If you aren’t all full and choking on my cum-” Free hand coming up to draw a line across your airway, “-right up to here. If you don’t have trouble speaking—then we’re repeating it all over again.”
You shiver at his words, “Oh fuh-fuck, Toru, I don’t think m’gonna last very long.”
“Oh yeah?” He’s tittering, “Tha’s not gonna make me stop, my love- I apologize- it just feels too good. Just gets me too addicted that I—ngh.” His brows furrow, head throwing back- “Don’t even think about trying to get me to pull out before I’ve done all I’ve promised-”
“Sa-toru!” You’re dragging out your words, feeling lightheaded with the constant thumping of pleasure taking over your fuzzy brain.
“Oh but- but don’t think that doesn’t mean m’that gone on this cunt…well, I do confess that I am.” He’s gently tugging on your clit, and breaking out into an accomplished smile. “But worry not, I still r-remember your lessons—”
You’re cracking your eyes open, almost delirious. “You…do?”
“Mhm—” He leans down, and plants a gentle peck on your lips. “Fifth lesson.”
And it’s exactly then that Gojo Satoru fucks you straight into your high- stark against your tizzy pleasure, scorching hot. The electricity of your orgasm rips right through your body, frying your veins with the sheer bliss-
“Fifth lesson, always make you cum.” He’s repeating as if a mantra, and you’re clutching his scarred back for dear life as Gojo’s lengthy shaft digs against your every tiny orifice inside. Somehow, he’s mapped out your g-spot perfectly - swabbin’ that exact spot in the same sloppy tandem as his fingers on your clit. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump! “Always make you cum- hah, always- always-”
“W-want you to cum, too, Satoru.” You blink up tearily at him, wriggling your hips. You moan at the feeling of his flared ridge stirrin’ your tender insides, “Inside- please?”
He breathes out, “Has…has anyone ever cum in-”
“No.” You’re tugging him into a kiss, and it somehow seems to heat your body up even further. “Just you.”
And it’s all that needs to be said for Gojo to finally finish out.
Pouring out long clingy streaks of his cum, that ivory sap sticks against your walls and sensually slides down to your womb- hot and sticky. Balls clenching. Heavy. So much of it- the sheer volume is a sensation that only adds onto the shakes of your own orgasm.
Your toes curl, and you swear you could almost taste the sticky sweetness of the puddle he was swirlin’ out at your very base. With all his throbbing inches shoved in tight—and your teeth set on edge after each ba-thump! of hot sap.
He’s riding both yours and his on your pretty lil’ cunt, “Just me-” Parched lips whispering. With brazen eyes, Gojo looks down at your core and pat-pat-pats above where he was spurting out his sap. “Just me, just me- just me—”
As Gojo’s voice breaks out, you’re peering up at him. “Satoru-”
“And is it…” He’s finishing off his train of thought from earlier, still muddled by the feeling of your sopping wet cunt- the crackles of his high. They make every hair on his body stand on end, spine arching into your body. “-is it just me that belongs to you, my love?”
You whine when his slightly-changing position makes his globular tip swab even further inwards to mess up your insides. “Oh, Toru, you don’t belong to me.” You tell him, and the corners of his lips almost downturn in sadness. “You’re mine, if you hah- want to be-”
“I do.” Gojo answers, immediately.“Oh, how I do, my life.”
Beaming.
You just didn’t know that, outside, Geto had been there to hear it all.
.
.
.
In the end, it was only with the promise of bringing him more romance novels, and perhaps a few sweet treats from the kitchen, that you’d managed to detangle yourself from Gojo Satoru’s long limbs. You crept upstairs with the morning light.
Clutching onto the staircase banister with all your might, absolutely ruined.
And you were well and fully intentioned to return with the spoils of your brief respite - to be quite honest with yourself, it ached somewhere deep inside when you weren’t near him. And you’d just been running your mind through a few potential titles that he might like when you heard his voice.
Not Gojo’s, no.
Geto’s.
“You should not go near it.”
You whirl around to find him standing at the foot of the stairway, hidden in the shadows, so that you had not even noticed him with your mind full of Gojo.
Geto takes a step closer towards you, and you could feel his eyes sweep down the tattered nightgown that you help to your body, to your glistening eyes, your kissed lips. His lip curls in distaste, “You should not go near it.”
“It?” You ask, not masking your dislike.
“It, yes.” He spits, “It is dangerous-”
“He is a human being-”
“He is a monster.” And Geto Suguru has never raised his voice with you - not with you. But he can’t help but let that scratchy pitch out now, getting closer towards you with that utterly manic look in his eyes. “The Strongest- yes. I have not completely failed, but something must have gone wrong somewhere. A suture? A valve? Because he is a monster-”
“You do not know him!” Waving your lantern in his direction, he darts backwards with his eyes narrowed.
“Good God, my dear…” He starts out, slow. “If I could force myself to believe it, it would be in my inclination to see attraction in you for that thing-”
“And if so, then what?” You’re raising your head high in challenge, meeting his steely gaze dead-on. “Understanding. Pain. Intelligence. In him, I see all of those things-” The flames lick away from him, “-and I am not quite sure I see them in you, anymore.”
Geto turns his head away from you, jaw clenched. “What about what you have denied me?” And you’re not quite sure what he means in that moment, not until he spits out the very two words that haunted you for nights. “Your heart.”
“My heart.” You can’t help but laugh to yourself, fists tightening on your lamp. “Of all human anatomy, that is the organ furthest from your understanding.”
And that is where your conversation had ended.
For the night, that is.
Turning your back to Geto, you’d made your way up that grandiose staircase- towards the library, as you were intended to. You took your time perusing the titles, both in wonderment as to what Gojo might like as a pastime to forget the conversation with Geto before you met your lover. And by the time that you’d picked up a tattered old copy of Beauty and the Beast…the tower was on fire.
What happened next you remember in snapshots and screams.
Running into Geto and your fiancé in the corridor, being bodily dragged out of the burning mansion by them both, fighting your way in an attempt to get into the dungeons- and yet, you were no match for both.
You’d flung and clawed at them both.
And yet…they still let the dungeons burn.
You knew that Geto had something to do with the fire, he seemed none too miserable about losing his greatest creation. None too sorry about hearing it scream—your name, from the depths of his wounded chest, it echoed above the flames,
That, however—that made you run to the house despite the flames- it’s only with your fiancé’s help that you narrowly missed a plume of flame and heat that had been headed straight at you. And when you opened your eyes, stuck together with tears, you’d found…
Geto attempting to go inside, as well.
Frantic.
Fervent.
Flapping his coat and attempting to wade through, a single tear racing down his cheek.
What has he done?
“It’s too late now, Suguru.” You’re throwing off the other man’s arms, your cries aimed at Geto who looked on hopelessly at the maze of fire that he simply could not penetrate. “It’s too late now!”
Inevitably, you’d broken off your engagement and wished to flee the country, perhaps flee your life entirely - only, you didn’t realize that a certain scientist had much the same idea. Geto had joined you on an expedition to the North Pole a few months later, one that you’d signed up for in the hopes that the cold would perhaps numb your mind.
But when your Navy Vessel had been attacked by a hooded, inhuman figure- it was the two of you that had been left out for dead, the harbingers of such disaster. And you could only realize that Gojo was far far from numb in your mind. He was closing in on it. Just as he was closing in on you.
He was alive.
He was alive.
And you won’t let Geto prevent you from seeing him now.
.
.
.
“So that is why the mons…Gojo calls for ‘her’.” Nanami breathes into the ringing silence after your side of the story. He looks over at Geto, who hangs his head low, and then straight into your eyes. “He was asking for you- he was calling for you-”
“Oh-” Your hands fly up to your chest, “Surely you didn’t hurt him too badly?”
“We did not, my lady.” Nanami lies - and even if it had been false, it was only true that this creation had rapid healing. The Strongest, huh? Imagine such a thing. He takes his hat off and slightly bows before you, “We apologize that we were not there to speak with him before attacking, human to human.”
You’re managing out a slight smile, before you turn your gaze towards the haggard Geto Suguru. Who mutters to himself, “Her…so- so he really doesn’t want…”
“It’s not you he wants, Suguru. He doesn’t want revenge, he doesn’t want blood, he just wants-”
“Love.” He says the word like it pains him, looking up at you with those soft amethyst eyes for the first time in what feels like…forever. “He wants love.”
And you wanted your love, too.
The crew outside had been doing a valiant job at attempting to ignore the cracking of the frozen sea beneath them, the almost turgid shape of something attempting to claw at them from beneath the icy surface. Banging at the frost. Creating currents that sway and tip the Horisont from side to side. But once the group filters out of Nanami’s bedroom, multiple officers run up to their Captain with their worries.
“Captain, that- that thing seems to be coming back up again-”
“Our onlookers have spotted it swimming back near the ship-”
“It’s almost here!”
“Calm yourselves, calm yourselves.” The blond-haired man raises his palms to signal for silence, announcing to the entire crew. They look at you curiously, so out-of-place amongst their frantic faces, in fact- you seemed ready to leap off the side of the ship for a better look. “I am aware of the problem, and I am aware that he will be returning soon.”
“He?” Repeats Ino.
“He.” Nanami affirms, a twinkle in his eye. “And we have been quite the inhospitable hosts towards each of our guests here, and as your Captain I apologize for not correcting our behavior sooner.” And above the gasps, he continues. “Gojo Satoru is not dead. Gojo Satoru will return. And when he does-” He gestures behind at you, “-we will be letting this lovely lady off the side of the ship.”
“A sacrifice, Captain?!”
“That’s murder!”
“How could we ever possibly-”
“He’s coming.” His stern voice cuts through all, and it didn’t matter what they all had to say at this very moment. It only mattered what you had to do. “He’s coming- man the ladder.”
The crew works quickly and efficiently, and as they let that water-logged wooden ladder hit the ice below- Geto claps at your elbow with one of his shaking hands. “Are you perfectly sure-”
“Suguru.” You’re interrupting him, and it makes the taller man flinch. You smile, “I’ve never had a more foolhardy idea in my entire life.”
Somehow, somewhere, he manages to crack a smile, too.
The thunder of fists against frozen water grows louder, synchronizing with the stomp of your heartbeat as you make your way down that ladder. Biting your lips against the cold, your eyes trained on the dark mass of cloth that waded beneath the snow like a blood-thirsty shark. Ready to break free.
The moment your shoes hit the crunching snow—
CRASH!
Gasping, the ship leans over on its side as they look over the edge.
The Strongest.
All eight, loving feet of him towering before you.
Shoulders stooped. Cloak drenched. Hood obscuring. His breaths come out in uncontrolled gusts after so long beneath the water, and the breeze tickles your face as he just can’t help but bow himself closer to you.
“Let me see you.” You’re humming, reaching over with absolutely no hesitation to pull the flap of his hood off. Ice-blue eyes meet yours. Rosy pink lips wobble with emotion. And suddenly you’re looking into the very face that has haunted your daydreams for so long now, your love. Your Gojo Satoru. “Satoru.” Taking one of his overlarge hands in yours, you’re placing them to your core - beyond those extra layers of coats, the swell of your belly. The life growing within. “We’re sorry we took so long.”
His scarred body embraces you then and there, “My loves.”
A/N. Think this might be the longest fic I’ve ever written? Mayhaps??
guys pls help me find this post it was like you and frat kuna dating i think and the author (or person who posted it) also would include like ig posts that like you would post or sukuna would of you (not sure if i made sense) i lost it and im literally going insane. there was also another story where you help out at your parents shop or something and sukuna works at a mechanic shop next to yours and you were sitting on the curb crying holding a caprisun or sum. begging you guys pleaseeee if you know the authors/ stories
everyone line up i've got one bottle of testosterone gel and there's 17,000 of you i'm about to pull a move not seen since jesus did the bread and fish glitch 2000 years ago
Synopsis. (!) Two assignments overdue: your law professor and your history professor.
Objective: After teasing them all semester, Professor Higuruma Hiromi and Professor Nanami Kento…snap.
Time: At the same time.
Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader x Higuruma Hiromi
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, history professor!Nanami, law professor!Higuruma, college AU, you’re such a TEASE, driving them wiId, they’re overworked, they’re older, tutoring, STERN Nanami, fíngering, rings, p sIapping, p talking, chokíng, rídin’ Higuruma’s nose, oraI (m + f), pússydrunk Higuruma, manhandIing, dragging, running from it, bíting, BOTH, fuII neIsons, bIindfolds, guessing, DP, SAME TIME, spítting, DÚMBlFICATlON, cervíx smoochin’, big stretches, they’re FÉRAL, creampíes, cúmpIay, slight cúmfIation, surprise at the end, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 13.2k
A/N. You babygirls said you wanted more law professor!Higuruma so…I said why not have BOTH?!
He had you next hour.
Professor Nanami Kento - head of the History Department, PhD with Distinction - had you in his next class.
And he wasn’t even half as prepared as he should be: the coffee-maker in the staff room had broken down.
Goodness knows how many times the blond-haired man has haunted that very station. Slouched over, sighing, sipping on his seventh coffee of the day.
And although he could blame it all on the higher-ups and their stingy funding, or perhaps the frat boys of Delta Jujutsu Pi that’ve made it a challenge to sneak inside—he blames you. He wouldn’t even have latched onto such a respite had it not been for the way you made his blood pressure rise…in all sorts of ways.
Nanami’s eyes glaze over, and his hand absent-mindedly drifts between his legs. Perhaps if he got his pent-up energy out first…
“Kento.” A knock at his cubicle. And Nanami jolts his hand away as though it burned-
It was Professor Higuruma Hiromi.
The head of the Law Department. Also PhD with Distinction. The man with dark circles and even darker suits, all prim and poised as he waded through the hallways with his stacks of documents—of course, Nanami was one for suits, as well.
They really brought out his broad shoulders- at least, that’s what you told him.
Another reason why he needs the coffee.
Fuck.
Nanami attempts to even out his breathing as he looks up. “Hiromi.”
If Higuruma thought anything of Nanami’s startled reaction, he makes no indication. Instead he holds up a slim file in his hand, “Are you free? Could you help me with looking over this essay?”
“Of course.”
They were the only two in the staff room right now, besides- anything to take his mind off of you.
Nanami adjusts the gold-rimmed glasses on his face before he takes the file from him. Flipping it open to find a jumble of justice and law jargon that his history-inclined brain balks at—“I never thought you’d want a history professor’s opinion on an essay about…” He squints at the title, “-the scope of judicial power and judicial review. Does this have any names of 14th century shoguns that you need me to check?”
“No- no.” Higuruma runs a hand down his face, though Nanami gets the impression that it wasn’t for him. Rather it was for whatever ravaged at the man inside- making him look up at the ceiling with a hollow sigh—“Man, I need some coffee today.”
“Understandable.” Nanami pushes his glasses up.
“The machine’s broken, right?”
“Right.”
Higuruma only lets out another sigh that Nanami relates to well.
“If it helps, Dean Yaga said it’d be fixed by tomorrow.” Nanami attempts- he never was the type of sociable guy some of the other professors were. But he gets the feeling that Higuruma was the same.
He runs a hand down his face one last time- “That’s too late, I have tutoring this evening with…” And how Nanami Kento related to that, as well. Before he seems to shake himself out of it- somewhat. “It’s alright, could you just check the grammatical and citation stuff for me?”
“Of course.” As Higuruma leans against the partition and waits, the other professor skims through the writing. It wasn’t half bad, to be quite honest, and had it been for his own class then he would’ve given it an A—none too many mistakes except for the odd careless error. At least it was human-made.
After a while of silence, Nanami’s partway through the conclusion when he asks. “Did you happen to get tired of looking through so many essays?”
“No, it’s just…” The dark-haired man sighs once more- for about the twelfth time since he came in. “-this student, you know?”
Nanami nods—he did know. “Trouble student?”
“Not quite.” He almost gulps.
Nanami narrows his eyes. “Doesn’t attend?”
“No, she attends every class.”
“Then what?” He leans back in his chair, essay forgotten now. “The legacy kid? The credit-chaser? The class clown that isn’t actually funny?”
Higuruma cuts through them all with a fierce shake of his head. “No, no, and no—” Almost gulping. “It’s just that this student is a little…distracting.”
The tips of his ears were red.
Instantly, Higuruma looks like he regrets it.
“F-forget I said anything-”
He does.
But Nanami looks squarely at the other man.
“I have a student like that, too.”
The law professor looks at him in wary interest. “Oh?”
“My star student, actually.” Pushing his glasses up, he opens up one of his cabinets and pulls out a thick, paper-stuffed file. And though Nanami Kento does collect his students’ work for the semester to review, he never does keep them quite so close - none other than yours.
Higuruma looks through them with slightly widened eyes. “All hers?”
Nanami nods, “So diligent that it’s almost distracting.”
Higuruma pulls out an empty chair beside Nanami and sits. Legs spread. Dark eyes thoughtful. “Mine, too.” He starts—“Never have I had a student ask for so many hours of extra tutoring.”
“Mine’s basically set up a tent in my office.” Nanami chuckles- though he can’t deny the slight pang it sends down to his cock. “Always taking on more assignments for extra credit, always answering questions first-”
“Always first in class and last to leave?”
“Exactly.” Nanami agrees. And he leans a hand on his desk as he watches the other man go through those papers - they were some of his most prized possessions, he feared to admit. Words from your heart. Swooping slashes of ink from your hands.
It was a part of you in those papers that Nanami Kento held dear to him- fuck, it was a part of you that sometimes he’d bring up to his greedy nose and sniff. Almost as if he could feel your skin through these very parchments.
It made him so fuckin’ hard.
But Higuruma didn’t need to know that.
Though the careful manner in which he handled those papers - how he leaned in just a little to drown in the ink - made him wonder…
“Always wearing the skimpiest skirt to class?”
And the other man looks up in shock- as though conveying something in his silence. Oh.
He flips the file over to look at the name typed-out on the cover, and it reads—yours. Ultimately, he continues—“A-always sittin’ in the front row with her legs spread just a bit?”
Nanami nods. “Always leaning over the desk when she has to speak in private.”
There’s a slight hardening within Higuruma’s eyes - though not of any unpleasant kind - it’s almost as if something deep and carnal was stirring awake right now. “Always wearing the prettiest black lace underneath?”
“She wears baby pink for me.” Nanami can’t help but smile.
“Fuck.” Higuruma runs a hand down his face again- and if Nanami didn’t know any better then he would’ve sworn that the other professor looked even more weary than when he first came in here. “And her panties-”
“Matching set.” Nanami responds without missing a beat - and he knows he’s some ol’ pervert for this.
He knows he is.
But he also knows about the smile that’d spread across your face the moment you’d realized he’d seen. “Bent over too low when picking her pen up one class.”
“Fucking—fuck.” Higuruma sounds agonized.
Nanami leans back in his chair, making it bounce a little bit. With a slightly breathless sigh leaving him, and his cock hardening even more in his pants–he’s forced to manspread under the table a little more. “She’s a needy lil’ thing, isn’t she?”
“That’s putting it lightly.” Higuruma’s lips quirk up into a sensual smile - as if he was reminiscing on the memories. “Wanting to fuck her professors? Seriously?”
“Believe she’s thought of both of us at the same time?”
“Don’t even say that-” The law professor looks around, even though there was no one else here. Looking back at the man with somewhat pleading eyes, “I have tutoring with her this evening. If I can’t even fucking grade her essay without getting a hard-on then what d’you think will happen if I’m thinking of that—?”
“Oh…” Nanami hums to himself, hands lacing in front of him. The coffee-machine really was broken. “-maybe that won’t be an issue.”
Higuruma glances at him with furrowed brows, “How so?”
“What time is your tutoring with her?”
“You mean…”
The blond man shrugs coyly- “I’m not implying anything…but which one of us two do you think is her favorite?”
“And people think you’re the gentleman of us two.” Higuruma grumbles but ultimately spits out the time. It seems you’d opted for tuition classes with your law professor in the after-hours—when the offices were snug, and the department was empty. And he feels his cock perk up at the fact- how many times has he raced back home to plunge into a cold bath after your tuition classes? How many times has his shower heard your name whispered? “I’m most definitely the favorite, by the way-”
So lost in his thought, Nanami nearly doesn’t catch the sentence. He looks over at Higuruma. “Does she call you ‘sir’, too?”
“She does.”
“Well, then we’ll find out, won’t we?”
.
.
.
The two hottest professors on campus.
Higuruma Hiromi (38) with his sleek-cut suits, his polished shoes, and those sleepy eyes that seemed to stare into the depths of your soul. The depths of your body - exposed underneath him. He was a stern teacher, not afraid to make you do an assignment over and over and over again…(and you gladly would). Higuruma’s justice classes made you…wet you had to admit, hearing him bark out simulations of court cases. Orders. Commands.
You could practically hear a sigh echo out across the room every time he acted out his attorney days.
Every time he banged his gavel down made your knees weak.
It was no wonder that students in the law department tittered n’ scattered any time the ruggedly handsome professor walked past.
On the other hand was your history professor.
Nanami Kento (31) with his beefier build, his strong arms, his gentle eyes—twinkling down kindly upon you every time he corrected a mistake. Which - you have to confess - you’ve made a few more times than you really had to, just to feel his molten gaze upon you again and again. He often caused your heart (and something else entirely) to flutter at the deep musicality of his voice, managing to make even the most boring of history passages something interesting. Something that swept the class up easily.
Nanami was reputed around campus for being a complete gentleman - never looking down upon someone, never letting them walk in after him, never letting them pay him a compliment without receiving a sweet one back.
The dream husband.
The stern and the nice.
Both of them- frat guys hated them.
It hadn’t been intentional to join both their classes- honest!
But after seeing them on your first day, how could you not commit to maintaining a spotless attendance? You had a sneaking suspicion that the rest of the class behaved in the same manner for much the same reason - though none took it quite as far as you.
The skirts. The extra credit. The bending.
Speaking honestly, you were a teacher’s pet. Through and through.
And the tightness in their pants whenever you left a class told you- they were the best professors. To you, that is.
Which is why you’d been a little less than happy when Professor Higuruma had told you that someone might be joining your weekly tutoring.
Invigilated tutoring?
What the hell was invigilated tutoring?!
You admit that you’d been forced to hold back a groan of disappointment. Picking such late hours had been a conscious decision—right up there with those tight pencil skirts that you knew your law professor loved but would never admit to.
Professor Nanami was more the type to like free, flirty pleats that barely reached your thigh - and you loved the way his eyes would follow them behind those glasses of his. Even though he pretended they didn’t.
And right now you were wearing a mix of both.
Tight on top, flared at the bottom
Seated opposite his desk - thighs shut, skirt pulled down as low as it would go - more concentrated than you’d ever been during one of these tutoring sessions. It’s been about half an hour since the start of today’s tuition. Higuruma’s office was a cosy space, decked out in the most expensive-looking mahogany banisters, and shelves, and a witness box in the far corner.
It gleamed at the light—down knowingly at you, almost as if waiting for you to make a move.
But how could you? If there was a potential visitor, then you didn’t want to risk Higuruma’s job- as much as you loved teasing your two hot professors, it wouldn’t do to get them fired!
So you kept your hands and your skirts to yourself.
And even Higuruma himself had his eyes raised, possibly wondering why you hadn’t leaned over his desk or lingered a touch at his shoulder for help.
But oh, how you wanted to…
The professor looks down at his watch, “He’s late.”
You’re glancing at the closed door, “Maybe the invigilator isn’t coming?”
“Oh, he will.” Higuruma crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “Trust me, he won’t miss this.”
A shiver runs down your spine.
You wondered what made him so sure.
And yet, you edge closer over the desk to him anyways.
It’s about forty-five minutes into your tutoring session when the door you’ve been sneaking glimpses of this entire time- clicks! And a looming figure walks into the room, his figure nearly taking up the whole frame.
Your jaw drops as you realize—
It’s Professor Nanami.
“Ah- Kento.” Higuruma beckons him over warmly- and you’re nearly suffering from whiplash from watching the two interact. These two are close?! Professor Nanami had been completely normal during your last class, if just a little more distracted than usual - and what was this? “We’ve been waiting.”
He looks at you as he says this.
“I had to penalize a student for missing a few assignments.” Nanami says smoothly, before bringing up a chair beside you and taking his seat. His movements were fluid and precise - as if he wasn’t questioning for a single moment why you were here so late, why you were dressed like that for him, and why you were so damn close.
You’d been staring into his handsome face for so long that he clears his throat. “Continue.”
“S-sir?” You’re chirping- and in your peripheral vision, Higuruma shuffles in his chair.
“Continue.” Nanami repeats in a stern tone. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound like that—“Just as you are. I would like to take notes for teaching my own classes.”
“You heard what he said.” Higuruma nods- and now you’re looking his way to see the most knowing smile on his face. “Continue, angel.”
Your thighs squeeze at the pet name.
Nanami quirks a blond brow and notes something down.
And so you’re ducking back into your work—
“Your blouse button is undone.”
Slightly gasping, you’re reaching down to fix it-
“No, don’t button it.” He interrupts you with his low tone, gravelly with something you can’t pinpoint. You’re looking up at Nanami to find his gaze unwavering from you already- “I was merely noting it. Nothing to fix.”
“But-”
“You unbutton it for my class, too, don’t you?” He asks, and you’re unsure what to say-
“Answer when your teacher speaks to you.” Higuruma’s humming tone echoes—and from the sound of it, he was thoroughly enjoying this. He cocks his head down at you, “Or haven’t they taught you that yet?”
“Th-they have.” You’re squirming in your seat, a slight heat simmering in your stomach. You turn to Nanami, “And I do.”
“Hm.” With nothing more said- he writes something else down in his notes.
And you think you’re in the clear.
For now.
It’s barely a few sentences later on your work that Nanami speaks up again-
“Your feet are touching his.”
You pull away-
“You’ve been writing the same sentence over and over.”
Your hand pauses-
“Your thighs are parted more so than before.”
Immediately, you’re smacking them back shut again- you hadn’t even realized. And how the hell had Nanami even seen?
And you could practically hear the smug smile in his voice - so unlike everything you know of him - as he continues. “And your bra is peeking out.”
“Never seen one before?” You mutter underneath your breath, just about to fix your collar (that you’d very purposefully left open)—
Before Nanami’s voice cuts through again. “Never seen one of yours in black before, is what.” Even as you’re looking at him in slight sensual shock- he doesn’t look up from his papers. “What happened to the baby pink you show-off in my class?”
And Higuruma merely leans back and smiles. “Black is my favorite color, remember?”
“How could I forget?” The history professor answers.
“Though I myself am curious about this baby pink of yours…”
And you have nothing else to do but gape- they knew.
Oh, how they both knew by now.
And by the looks in their eyes, they’d been dying for this very moment.
To confront how you’d been toying n’ teasing them all semester through now- enough so that they’ve apparently begun trading secrets about their unruly star student. You knew that Higuruma tended to have his ears grow hot and red any time he bumped into you in the hallway, and that Nanami would loosen his tie as if undressing whenever you wore a particularly scandalous thing to class - but you hadn’t known they’d been pushed…to this extent.
And you were glad for it.
So you sigh—slouching back in your chair. “So you both know. What now then? Do I get written up or something?”
But Nanami only looks at you through his glasses. “Sit up straight.”
He’s never uttered a command like that in his entire life during your usual lectures. And when you don’t move - merely looking at the blond man with raised brows - Higuruma pipes up. “You best listen to him now, angel.”
“Oh please.” Fluttering your lashes at them both. “And what’re you gonna do about it?”
Higuruma looks at Nanami.
Nanami calmly puts his notes down on the other’s table, and looks at you.
“Why-” He pushes his glasses up his handsome nosebridge. “-teach you a lesson, of course.”
“Both of you?” You could feel the elated giggles bubbling up in your throat- and you could feel the space between your legs start to grow wetter already. Looking between both of them—“Do it then.”
And then it’s a blur - you don’t know where Higuruma’s lips end and yours begin. He’s reached over the surface of his desk to kiss you like a starved man- and he groooans into that very kiss like you were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. Hand on your cheek.
The tips of his canines start nibblin’ on your lower lip- and you’re kissing him back even deeper. “Shit-” Higuruma’s husky tone scorches across your face, “Shit, I’ve been wanting to do this for so fucking long.”
“Mmm, you kiss like husband material.” You’re giggling into the kiss. Both of your hands end up on his shoulders, and you could feel the shifting of his muscles through his slim suit.
“Shit- and you talk like trouble.” He echoes out in an almost pained tone- like every second that his lips were away from yours ached.
And those plump, pursed lips press against yours once more—so much sweeter than you would have expected this booming lawyer to kiss. He’s using the hand on your cheek to tilt down your chin- “May I?” Before the short nod you give lets him slither his tongue in wetly, lappin’ at your sweetest taste. “Shit, you’re really like sugar on my tongue.”
And you’re whining into the fervent kiss, letting it go on for a few more minutes before you’re breaking away with the most lecherous plop! And a thoroughly flushed professor chasing after your lips drunkenly-
“And what about you…” You’re kissing down Higuruma’s sharp jawline, looking at the other man who’d been sitting quietly this entire time. “-sir? Haven’t you wanted to kiss me even once this semester?”
Nanami shivers but he hides it well. Uncrossing his legs and revealing the most rock-hard, aching bulge between his legs—“Kiss? Perhaps.”
And you’re gulping at the sight.
Higuruma scoffs out a slight burst of laughter. “Perhaps.”
“But I’m a gentleman, my love.” Nanami continues, leaning back in that luxurious armchair. He takes off his coat to reveal a pale blue button-up, and beneath that was revealed the most chiselled body you’ve ever seen. He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and beckons towards you. Manspread. Lap so welcoming. “Which means I’ve thought of far, far worse.”
Higuruma - with a final sloppy kiss plastered across your mouth - lets you walk over to Nanami.
Which you do on wobbly legs- plopping down unceremoniously on his lap. More than enough space there for you. He wastes no time bending you into shape in his strong arms, flipping you around to face the other man, and spreading your legs wiiiiiiide open-
Riiiiiip—!
“Whoops.” Nanami’s thoroughly unapologetic tone gruffs against the shell of your ear. Two of his vein-covered forearms were hooked underneath your elbows, and Nanami looks on boredly at the clean split down your skirt—“I always thought you’d look better without these anyway.”
Before he’s spreading your legs even further across his lap. Tearing it even more.
Exposing you for nothing but your tremblin’ legs and those drenched panties. Pretty black in color.
So lacy that it was practically nothing.
Higuruma’s eyes widen, “Dirty girl.”
Nanami breathes, “No, that’s called being a slut.” And shock runs through your body at his words- at Nanami ‘Gentleman’ Kento’s words. Before it’s suddenly overtaken by the sudden feeling of him smearin’ aside your panties and stuffin’ his fingers inside.
Those thick crowns dooooown to the golden ring on his middle finger.
They were long and thick. Swirling and swirling the tip of his digit right ‘round your clit- and when you’re shuddering and unable to take it any longer—he pulls away and licks off that excess slick with a slurp!
Humming to himself as though it was the greatest delicacy in the world. “One thing you should know about me, darling, is that just because I’m gentleman-” And you’d been so caught up in his ragged tone, you didn’t even realize that he’d snaked his hand back down between your legs. “-doesn’t mean that I’m not depraved.”
And he’s ending off the sentence not with a full stop- no, but with a sudden shove of his fingertips between your folds. So swollen n’ sweet with slick.
You buck and he lurches his hand out to slap you on top of your pussylips.
“Down, darling.”
“Please…” You don’t even know what you’re begging for.
But Nanami’s mouth waters already at the sound of it, and he’s keeping it at bay by pushing n’ pulling on the first ring of muscle at your cunt. “I said down.”
Head throwing back against his collarbone. “Oh.”
Fucking you with just the first inches of his fingers- “It doesn’t mean that m’not desperate.” Continuing as though your eyes weren’t bulging, as though your legs weren’t shaking, as though you weren’t arching off of his muscular chest. “It doesn’t mean that m’not ready to debase this pussy like she deserves.”
“Y-you mean—” You’re hiccuping, eyes starting to water at the sheer raw stretch. It was the type that left your pussy burning in the most delicious way - the feeling of having Nanami Kento’s scourin’ fingertips eager to enter your cunt. “-that whole gentleman thing was just a lie?”
“It’s not.” He responds. Final. His blond strands fall over his forehead as he keeps his eyes locked on your glistening hole, scissoring his fingers at that entrance n’ spreading you even wider. “I’m nice…”
Adding in a third finger before you’re even registering his second.
“-to everyone but this slutty pussy, that is.”
“Sh-shit—” Mewling at the top of your lungs, you’re clawing down Nanami’s strong forearms. They were the perfect thing to hold onto- just about the only thing you could hold onto as he utterly ruined your pussy with short, jerking thrusts.
Bulging the sides of your velvety walls open with his globular tips.
Cold metal ring shocking you.
So thick that he manages to probe into a few of your sensitive spots without even trying. Dragging his flexible fingers across every inch of you.
Scissoring and opening up and scissoring—deep.
Tears track down your cheeks at the sheer stimulation.
“Go easy on her, Kento.” Higuruma can’t help but groan at the sight of your pretty crying face. And soon enough, you’re hearing the metallic clinking of a belt buckle- “Don’t want to break our star student, now, do we?”
Nanami purrs against your temple. “Mmm, I don’t mind.”
“Just remember that she’s tutoring with me.”
The sound of Higuruma’s belt hitting the polished wooden floorboards is enough to make your eyes startle open- and oh, how you’re so glad it did.
Because then you’re greeted with the sight before you: of Higuruma Hiromi in utter ecstasy. All because of you.
He’d taken your seat from prior, chair angled perfectly to face the show taking place in front of him.
Where Nanami had your legs spread aaaaaall the way as far as they would go - until Nanami could hear your joints threatening to pop - and facing the dark-haired man. His dark eyes glinted as they stared down at your glistening hole, swallowing Nanami’s rams easily.
Slurps n’ squelches emanating like music.
Cunt dripping everywhere over the history teacher’s tight trousers. And the larger that puddle you were forming seemed to grow, the harder Nanami’s hammerin’ pace seemed to become.
You could barely keep your eyes open long enough to see Higuruma tug down his black pants- that throbbing erection of his making an appearance. He wraps his hands around his thickened base and starts tugging, soft grunts leaving his mouth at the rapid pull-pull-pull of his cock. “Shit, she’s so fucking wet- be a little nicer with that pussy o’ hers, would you?”
“Hmmm…I don’t think she deserves it.” And with that said, Nanami plants yet another sodden spank on top of your cunt. Ring grazing your front- “She hasn’t learned her lesson yet, has she?”
That stinging sensation zaps throughout your entire body and makes you buck. “I-I have—”
Before yet another thwack! of Nanami’s calloused fingertips follow.
Harder, this time.
“I was talking to this pussy, actually.”
And he doesn’t even wait for the primal sting to pass by before openin’ your cunt up and thrusting his fingers inside again. In and out.
Push after push into your gooey depths.
You’re so sensitive n’ wet by this point that even the slightest movements have you emanating out the loudest sounds. Squelches upon squelches—every time he’s hitting a spot deep inside your hole. “Mhmm…mmmhm.” You could feel Nanami’s head slightly nodding above your own, as if locked deeply in a conversation with your pussy’s sounds. Just one whine of yours and he’s spankin’ on you once more- “Wait your turn, my love. She’s talking t’me.”
And Higuruma- ah, Higuruma has the audacity to snicker at the action. “Now that’s just bullying, Kento.”
“Is it?” He’s slappin’ down on your pussylips once more. Listening for the sound, “She says it isn’t so.”
You’re sending a narrowed glare his way that makes the law professor roll his eyes fondly.
“Oh, alright alright-” And he half-heartedly waves off at his colleague. “Be a little nicer to my dear student, won’t you?”
“Spoiled brat.” Yet another spank. Nanami sinks his canines into the shell of your ear, and he’s tuggin’ and teasing—he’s spreading his legs even further and settling you down. With your back against his rippling chest, he pushes and pushes his greedy fingers inside your pussy. “And why do you think you- hah, deserve that, huh? Haven’t you been fucking torturing us all semester long now?”
Higuruma groans. “Can’t deny that, angel.” His hands fly even faster up and down his cock- ravaged and reddened with need.
“Mhmmmm.” The blond-haired man agrees, “Haven’t you been wearing those slutty skirts expecting to get fucked in them? Haven’t you- fuck, haven’t you been wearing that damn lingerie hoping we’d take a peak? Aren’t I right?”
He waits for your pussy to answer first- and then you’re answering. “I-I mean-” Attempting to.
“Haven’t you been bendin’ over and shit just because you wanted to show up in our wildest dreams? To consume our thoughts and make our cocks twitch?”
“Well-”
“And we did.” Higuruma pipes up next. He was so needy that he was practically bucking off of his chair, making it creak with movement. Short, jerky thrusts.
“Oh, yes we did.” Nanami continues. He leans down to your ear, as if exposing a secret- “I’d look forward to our classes everyday, my love. I’d have to fuck my fist raw before class- just so I wouldn’t fuck you senseless in front of everyone like how you were begging me to.”
Higuruma moans as he thumbs down the line of his flared tip - that pinkish, slippery line. He twitches as though he’s near to cumming already. “Me- me, too…”
“And you still expect me to be a gentleman?”
You’re restless, opening your mouth to defend yourself and—
Nanami only leans down and spits a glittery wad of spit between your pursed lips. “Don’t talk when the teacher’s talking, darling.”
And your ears pop with pressure-
He’s hittin’ the plushness of his palm against your pussy with a loud smack! Smearing the curves n’ divots of his fingers dooooooown and up your walls, down and up.
His crown fingertips reach for your deepest innards- and you swear you can feel him stroking your very cervix. Runnin’ his frigid ring across your walls.
Drawing a few lines and marking his placement right back there, before he tunnels his digits at a frenzied pace - fingers almost nothing but a pale blur between your legs. His speed is so feverish that it leaves your sheen tricklin’ all down your thighs.
Trickling and trickling and—
And then you feel Nanami hook his fingers against your g-spot.
The pleasure shoots up your body like a lightning strike, “O-oh my god—right there, Kento.”
“Kento? Who’s Kento?” Nanami doesn’t even falter his fingering to answer, cooing in that tone that you’d almost mistake for something sweet. “I think you meant sir-”
“S—fuck.”
“Say it.” He huffs against the side of your face. Teeth almost out for blood- “Say it. Call me ‘sir’ or you don’t get to cum.”
“I—”
“Say it.” Higuruma, to your surprise, echoes from his seat. Where he had his gaze burning into your spread-open pussy n’ his mouth drooling at the vision of you—“Say it, angel. I need to see that pretty pussy cum.” Hands rubbing faster and faster-
“She deserves to cum, mhm.” Nanami nods. “But do you, huh?”
“I-I do.” You’re nodding up at your desperate professors. One just barely in your line of vision- but his fingers were working up such a storm. His slightly-tanned arms pinning you down, working your pussy open, hitting that target of your g-spot like a cute button. Again and again—
Blond hair ruffled. Glasses slipping down his sweaty nosebridge.
And then the other one that was just creamin’ his precum down his hands. With his hands on his swollen erection - one of them creating a tunnel for him to fuck his fist, the other flattening over his dribblin’ divot to stop from cumming already.
Sleepy eyes half-lidded. His pale thighs shivering as they bucked n’ rutted.
And the vision itself is enough to make you cum- but then again it just felt so good on Nanami’s hands, and underneath Higuruma’s gaze. So you can’t help but let your lips wobble open—“P-please let me cum-” Stars bursting behind your vision once Nanami presses down on your clit as well. “-sirs.”
The two older men look at each other.
“Sirs?” Higuruma asks, voice breathless with ecstasy.
“She just begged for both of us.” Nanami grumbles out - though not quite unhappily. It made his cock twitch deep in his pants to have you whimperin’ like this, and he continues. “Alright then, you slutty pussy.”
And it takes only a few more strokes - a few more direct thrashes along your g-spot - for you to hurtle straight into your high.
It’s so strong that you’re seeing white behind your eyelids—and your mouth blabbers out an unintelligible combination of both professors’ names. Toes curling. Sweat beading down your temple.
Nanami holds you down as you’re thrown through wave upon wave of your orgasm, your hips bucking up and down desperately. Riding throughout your bliss- and if that wasn’t already enough, he counts underneath his breath to measure how long it takes between your peaks of euphoria. Before hittin’ away at your g-spot just in time with each one.
The sensations that take you over are just incredible.
And your head falls back limply against Nanami’s shoulder.
Shivering. Almost as if you were in heat- and your pretty pussy gushes out honeyed slick as though to give credit to that statement.
Lavishing Nanami’s open thighs with all your sap—Higuruma eyes the mess and gulps. “Kento, give me a taste of that.”
Nanami scoffs. “In due time.”
“Kento, I need her pussy on my face now.”
Slowly but surely, you’re fluttering your eyes open at the feeling of being shuffled around - only seeing the beautiful, brown eyes of Higuruma Hiromi staring down at you. When did he get so close?
“Hiromi?” You’re blubbering out stupidly, still suffering from the aftershocks of your previous high. Those zapping bursts of electricity made your thighs twitch sensitively- “I mean- sir?”
Higuruma shivers, “You trained her well, Kento.”
“Mhmmm—” Nanami noses down the column of your throat proudly.
“Maybe now it’s time for a reward then, huh?”
You’re perking up. “Yes, please.”
Nanami snickers. “You spoil her.”
And in almost no time, you’re finding yourself handed off to the law professor - Nanami stands up and gets off of the armchair. While Higuruma takes his place-
At least, that’s what you think is going to happen.
But what ends up happening instead is that Higuruma seats you down on the chair, letting your barely-clothed pussy rub up against the cushion. Something in his eyes gleams at the way you’re squirming, and he speaks to you in a gentle tone. “Can you turn around and hold the headrest f’me, angel? Be a good girl f’me?”
“A-alright?” Confused, you’re just doing what he says. He meant that you had to turn and climb your knees onto the seat, ass turned towards the professors, back slightly arched.
“Mmm, good.” Higuruma admires the view. “Arch that back just a little more f’me now, alright?”
“Like this?”
And still not sure what he was about to do, you can only follow his commands. It almost feels like a doggy position- and you hold onto the wooden headrest for dear life.
“Mhmmm.”
And Nanami’s the first to mutter to himself, “Don’t tell me you’re…” He takes in the sight of you - with your front resting against the backrest of the chair. You have your spine bent, your ass cheeks displayed for them, your cunt not quite on the seat—“Hiromi, you dirty dog.”
“Couldn’t help myself.” Steadily, Higuruma’s kneeling on the floor.
There’s no warning before he then shoves his face nose-deep into your cunt- straight from behind.
Higuruma grabs onto either side of your ass cheeks, his prominent nose curvin’ up the slit of your pussy. He’s using his grip on you to draaaag you further down onto his face—“Mhmmm—spread those legs.”
He’s muttering.
He’s spitting- stern lips pursing and letting out a rivulet of saliva.
It strikes vertically down your cunt before Higuruma’s running his fat tongue over it. Smearing around the mess he’s made- but most importantly, smearing around the mess that you’ve made.
You’re whining as Higuruma’s textured tastebuds seem to take over your pussy. All the way from the plumpness of your folds, and then dipping between them to tease your hole- you’re still so sensitive from the massage that Nanami’s fingers had simmered into you. And you’re trembling your thighs further open, “P-please- fuck-”
“I’m a lawyer so I’m really good with my tongue, y’know?” Higuruma pants out, scorching hot against your needy pussy. “But that means my fees are high, too-”
“A-and what are your fees?” You’re sobbing out.
“Mmmm…” He takes the time to think—and by that, you mean that he rovers his mouth over where your clit was throb-throb-throbbing. The law professor takes his sweet time spreadin’ open your pussylips with his tongue, before letting his tongue flop out n’ draaaaaag down your clit-
And his next words are so lecherously muffled. “Ride my nose raw, sugar.”
You gasp.
In the background, you can hear a gruff bout of laughter that notably doesn’t belong to Higuruma.
You grip onto the headrest of the chair harder than ever- because in a split-second, Higuruma’s thumbin’ your folds open and stuffing your hole all full of his tongue.
So loooong and slick- curving right against the roof of your pussy. It makes you jolt to feel his honed, flexible tip zig-zagging its way down your channel—mazing and mazing inside that it’s as though his wet muscle was never-ending.
Higuruma Hiromi was damn ravenous.
He feels your knees start to slip away from him- and he claws his fingers deep into the globes of your ass cheeks to pull you back. Uncaring if you’re whining for mercy- “A-aren’t you supposed to be the nice one, sir?”
“Spoiled.” Nanami’s voice echoes from the distance.
“Mmm- keep calling me that, yeah?” Groans wrenching from the back of his throat at the mere sound of that title being said in your pretty voice. How nice it was to make you beg. “And no—”
“No?”
“I am being nice by letting you ride my nose, aren’t I?” His head jerks just a little upwards to look at you- and Higuruma can just barely make out the shock on your face. “I know how much you’ve wanted to ride it-”
“Hiromi-”
“Ever since ya fuckin’ met me, huh?” His rough tone vibrates through every vessel of your body- pushed even further by the constant swabbin’ he was doing inside. Swab after swab. “Ever since ya first saw me- don’t think I didn’t see how you stared at me.”
You’re clawing further up the headrest. “B-but how did you know-”
“Oh, angel…” Higuruma almost chuckles. Something dark and depraved- “If I was wrong then you wouldn’t be so fucking wet- I can barely breathe.”
Both of his roughened palms plaster around your thighs. Draaaagging you bodily - as though you were nothing against him - to glue your pussylips to his own lips.
He makes out with your pussy like a man parched.
“And I don’t need to.”
Your vision blurs with pleasure as Higuruma spreads your folds perfectly apart- and starts rammin’ his tongue into you wildly. Thick and thirsty for the taste of your sweet, sweet juices—any time that even a mere droplet of your sap starts to drip down your thighs- you can best believe that Higuruma was whipping his head down to slurp it up. “Harder.”
“I-I am-”
“Faster.”
“Fuck-”
“Raw, I said raw.”
Practically addicted to it.
He’s pussydrunk in with just a few sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. And you yourself can feel your pupils start to circle inside the whites of your eyes.
Spreading yourself even further on the chair to meet his utterly ravenous mouth-
“Didn’t forget about me now, did you?”
Nanami Kento sounds the closest he’s been since he had you on his fingers- which could feel like minutes, hours, days ago by now. It takes you significant effort to blink away the clingy film of tears on your eyes, and you’re opening them to find that he was actually…standing right in front of you.
Nanami had rounded the side of the armchair - and if you looked up, there his handsome face was. So now you have your law professor at your behind, and your history professor’s crotch in front of your face. His pants much too tight.
His cock thick and throbbing underneath there.
Clasping onto the headrest of the chair, if you raised your head juuuuust a little then you’d be able to mouth over the twitching erection he hid underneath there. “K-Kento?”
Nanami looks down at you through his gold-rimmed glasses. Grinning at your teary expression, “Only a few minutes with your nice teacher n’ you’ve already forgotten your manners, my love?” His hand falls to his formal pants, “Guess we have to go back to lesson one.”
“O-oh…”
Nanami had already unbuckled his belt and lets it drop to the floor—clink! Followed right along with the popping of his buttons, it doesn’t take too long before you’re face-to-face with his rock-hard bulge. Achingly hard. Almost painfully hard.
Barely held together by his boxers, he seeps out such volumes of precum that it creates a dark patch on the silken fabric. It glistens just a bit under the dim lighting of the office- something that makes you gulp.
And something that makes Higuruma nudge his tongue even deeper inside of you- shit, you could feel yourself growing more aroused. And he could taste it.
“Did you know she gets sweeter n’ sweeter the wetter she gets?” Higuruma slurs from in-between your legs, latching onto your clit with a loud squelch! “And you won’t believe it…but right now she tastes like the tastiest strawberry candy- heh.”
“Is that so?” Nanami’s nose crinkles as he looks down at you. He’s admiring that drunken expression on your face for a little bit, before reaching his right hand down and clasping at the back of your head. “Filthy girl.”
You shiver. “C-can’t help it-”
“Ah ah—not another word out of you.” The blond-haired man continues. His grip tightens- “I expect you not to speak when your professor is speaking-”
Cocking his head just a little, Nanami takes a glance at the famished way that Higuruma was kissin’ between your legs. Gasping. Gulping.
He had his mouth gaped wide open and was dragging it across every inch of your pussy that he could reach- sticking that long tongue of his between your pussylips. You’re almost sandwiching his tastebuds for a bit before he manages to flicker his tastebuds inside again—then in and out, in and out, in and out.
Faster than before.
Reeling back out to slap! your pussy with the flat surface of his tongue.
Then probin’ back in again.
Higuruma’s just being so loud-
“-and when this pussy is speaking.” The rest of the history professor’s sentence makes you gasp - brain so muddled that you’d almost forgotten what he was saying. Almost forgotten that he has a firm grip on your sweaty scalp—one that he’d now turned into two hands upon your sweaty scalp.
Tugging your head forwards as if you were nothing but a ragdoll to smush your face against his boiling hot erection.
Your jaw falls open and soon enough, you’re salivating all over his clothed cock.
Tongue lavishing across the cotton of his boxers- feeling every ridge n’ vein along his shaft.
He groans at the feeling of your heated mouth, and his fingers dig into your scalp even deeper. Tugging. Needing. One set of your fingers reach upwards to fumble its hem, and you take Nanami’s round, reddened tip into his mouth.
Moaning at the large size of him.
Moaning at the salty taste that floods your mouth-
“Hey now…” Higuruma’s choked-up tone echoes from behind. You’re feeling his tender fingers start to pull your hips back onto his face, “-don’t steal my star student away.”
“Have you forgotten that she’s my star student, too?”
“Her pussy’s on my mouth right now- so who’s in charge?”
“Well, let’s ask how she feels about it…” Nanami’s voice trails off—and only too late are you realizing that he isn’t talking about your pussy this time. He’s talking about you- waiting for your answer.
And you’re attempting to muffle out something, letting the globular edge of his cock swirl around your mouth a few times. Around and around. Just the crown of his mushroom tip prods into your every orifice inside- you’re opening your mouth to answer when Nanami jerks his hips forwards.
Fucking his cock deeeeep into your maw.
And with it, whatever words were in your throat, too.
“I dunno about that-” Nanami hums down at the chokes n’ strangled gasps you’re letting out, just the barest noises of whatever was able to filter past his swollen shaft. “-but it sounded like a ‘you, sir’ to me.”
“Didn’t know you were that depraved.” Higuruma spits out. Dark eyes narrowed as he’s grinding you back to him n’ lapping away at your oversensitive pussylips.
“I’m a gentleman, what can I say?” The other professor responds.
As the slurps n’ sucking continues, Nanami looks at you through half-lidded eyes. He admires the way your mouth leaves a glittering glaze of spit from the tip of his cock and doooown to about halfway down his shaft—so cute how you couldn’t fit it all. “And as Head of your pussy-” Fuck, when did he even assign himself that? Is he pussydrunk already? “-I say you can’t cum until you’re fitting my cock aaaaaall the way…”
The history professor’s left hand lifts off of your scalp. Then dragging down the front of your throat - down, down, down.
“-here.”
He points to a spot way past the back of your throat.
He fucks your mouth like he’s agonized every second he isn’t reaching for it.
Higuruma growls.
And thereafter it’s almost like a tug-of-war - on one end you’re being hauled forwards by Nanami’s grip on the back of your head. His hands strong and unwavering, no matter much you’re gasping for air- fuck, the ever-gentlemanly Nanami Kento was gone for the feeling of your mouth tightening around his hot cock.
Rutting those toned hips up into your velvety cavern like an animal-
“Just a little more.” That left hand of his wraps around your throat now, his thumb markin’ at the spots where he can feel his rounded tip probing inside. “Just a liiiiittle more now- about four inches? Heh.”
“Mmm—” Your eyes go wide in surprise.
And Nanami responds by pushing his hips even further, nearing the tip of your nose to those curls of blond at his base. “C’mon, c’mon.”
And on the other end, Higuruma had his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. Into the flesh of your ass. His tongue fishing around your insides before he pulls out and starts nibblin’ on your damn clit—
He’s thirsty. Depraved.
“Noooo, angel.” He’s gluing his chin to the front of your pussylips. Head moving back and forth, back and forth, back and forth as the law professor lashes his tongue across. “Come back to me-”
“Mmm—” You’re being pulled off of Nanami Kento’s reddened, dribblin’ cock with a plop! Just from the sheer pressure of Higuruma manhandling your body from the other side - dragging you all down his handsome face. “Fuh-fuck-!”
“Where’d you think you’re going?” Only for Nanami to barely let you breathe for a split-second before he’s pulling your mouth down his shaft again.
Shovelling a gooooood few inches of his vein-covered cock inside- he marks that spot out on your throat. Even deeper than the last time you had him- “Mmm, not bad. Just a few inches- mmm, more.”
“Ride my nose.” Higuruma begs from the other end. Breath breezing down your gooey core, it makes your thighs shiver- “Ride my nose, I don’t care. Ride my nose, ride my nose—”
And you’re just so overstimulated from all ends.
From the draaagging of Nanami’s thumb down the front of your neck, from the sensual touch of Higuruma’s nose being sandwiched between your pussylips, from the pleasure of them both playing with your body. It’s as if you’re their favorite toy to taste, to fuck - to worship because of the way they were being driven to absolute madness by those carnal sensations.
You can only jolt your body back and forth.
Down Nanami’s cock. Up Higuruma’s ready face.
Riding his nose just like you wanted- “S-so—” Somehow barely managing to gurgle out past the pulsating tip of his cock, “So close-”
“Close?” Higuruma perks up. “Fuh-fuck- I have you, angel.”
“Remember- no cumming until you take it here.” Nanami presses his thumb somewhere near where your voicebox was bulging with the intrusion of his inches. “You’re not there yet, darling…”
“But-”
“Please let her cum.” But to your surprise, it’s your law professor who is pleading your face.
Nanami raises a blond brow, “Oh?”
“Let her-” He slurps away on your swollen nub- sensitive and throbbing. He’s hollowing his cheeks out to get that suctioning sensation, already making your knees feel weak with pleasure. “Need her to- fuck, want her to cum on my tongue. Let her cum already.”
Nanami thrusts even deeper, “Hmm…I dunno.”
“I’m the one asking you.” Higuruma grumbles. “Let her cum-”
“Mmmpf- please.” And your brows furrow as the pit of bliss in your stomach grows stronger.
“Let her-” The law professor continues, “I’m begging you- fuck, she’s becoming so sweet. Let her cum-”
Pale brows furrowing. Sweat lines down his temple- “I don’t…just fit-” And he’s scrapin’ his bulbous tip down the roof of your cunt—all the way along to the back of your throat and targeting even further. “If she takes it until-”
Higuruma’s nose helping your grinds and bounces. “Just let her cum-”
“If she takes it-”
“Fucking let her-”
“G-gonna—” It’s the last thing you’re managing to get out before a sudden slam! of Nanami’s hips shut you up- and before you know it, you’re feeling the carnal scratch of his pubic hair. The feeling of his tawny curls at your skin, the intrusion of his throbbing shaft all the way down your throat.
And his thumb tapping where he’d marked a treasure spot - a spot he was supposed to meet. Nanami doesn’t have to say a single thing for Higuruma to bite his sharp canines down on your clit.
And before you know it, you’re bursting into your nth high of the night.
Not just your second, but your third, perhaps even your fourth.
Stars burst behind your eyelids, and your moans are nothing but soft crackles at the back of your throat. Higuruma draaaaags you all throughout those waves of bliss, elongating them with the thorough lavishing of his tongue.
Probin’ into every sweet spot.
Inside and out.
He digs his fingers into your thighs, now accomplishing his dream of having you ride his nose. Because you’re being made to arch your back n’ bounce your hips lecherously up and across.
Hittin’ those best angles- the peaks of your high absolutely burst through you.
And Nanami? Your history professor was enjoying the view - cocking his head to the side and smiling as you shatter on Higuruma’s face. He watches about half your orgasm bate, before starting to fuck his swollen cock back in and out of you. Thrusting.
“Now now—” Nanami murmurs. “You should be thankful my rubric’s so generous this time.”
You can only look up at him with your teary eyes.
That sight is enough for him to bite down on his lower lip n’ stop himself from cumming. No, he had something more important in his mind…
“Thirty seconds to finish up.” He says meanly. “Before I either drag your pussy off of his face or you have to drag yourself off, m’kay?”
“Tch- stingy.” Higuruma keeps lappin’ at you even after your high has passed.
And once that thirty seconds of more bliss have passed - just like Nanami said - he grips both hands ‘round the back of your scalp and wrenches you off of his cock. Off of Higuruma’s mouth. He’s bending down to spit straight between your lips—
“Now, I’m gonna be nice this one time because you took all of me. Understood?” The history professor states, so firm. “Nod if you understand, my love.”
You nod.
“Good.” He then kisses your lips- tasting you, tasting himself. “Now…do you want it from the back or face-to-face? Because m’fucking you filthy either way.”
“From- from the back.” You pant out.
And Nanami gives a single, stern nod before he lets you go. “Brace yourself.”
You’re collapsing back into the chair—sitting your ass down on it this time. Before the law professor suddenly has you in his arms - he supports you in getting off of the armchair and standing up. Now in the middle of his office, you’re stumbling onto your wobbly feet.
Your arms loop around Higuruma’s neck. “Hiromi…”
“Mmm, I love it when you call me that.” Higuruma kisses you.
“How unruly.” Both of you snap your heads at the sound of buttons popping- only to find that Nanami was taking off his button-up. And you were right- fuck, you were so right. He was so thoroughly chiselled underneath, almost Herculean in nature.
With the most naturally defined ridges n’ curves of his muscles—his firm pectorals, his washboard abs, his meaty thighs that make an appearance.
Nanami sheds of all his clothes before he stares down the two of you- “Addressing your professor by name? Clearly going against objectives to get ready? Making me jealous? What an undisciplined class, no need to be standing around.” He looks at you, “I’ll be fucking you until you can’t stand, anyway.”
A shiver runs down your spine—“Oh.”
“Now, darling.”
Higuruma lets you waddle away to Nanami- who merely swivels you around and bends you over the edge of his colleague’s desk. Papers and ink flying everywhere across the office as he does.
Folding you forwards until your head hits the table. Kneeing your legs apart.
It’s hitting you like a truck - your history professor is about to fuck you against your law professor’s desk.
“Stay still.” He gravels in your ear.
Nanami’s barely letting you take a breath before rubbin’ his bulbous tip down your dripping wet slit from behind. Hand gripping his thick hilt—up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Getting his inches coated in a glaze of your sap, Nanami hums at the feeling of you attempting to contract around him.
“This naughty girl’s reeeeal needy for me, huh?” Scorching breath heating up your skin, he kisses down your arched spine. “She says she can take all of me- can you?”
“Y-yes—” You’re sobbing into the polished mahogany. Bucking your hips up, “I want it, sir.”
You’re jolting as his puckered, pinkish tip smooches at your wet entrance- he’s just so thick that he can plug your hole up easily. Nanami’s tip throbs against your hole, and he reaches a right hand down to feel your pretty stomach - to feel where he’s going to be hittin’ with his hungry cock.
He breathes out airily—“You want it?”
“Yes-”
“Say please.”
“Please-”
“Hmmm?”
“Please, sir.”
Nanami lurches his hips back, back, backwards- “As you wish then, teacher’s pet.”
And then you’re being stuffed with an inch or two of him.
And by stuffed—you were seriously stuffed.
Thick and thorough. Almost too big to even fit in - Nanami fills out the orifice of your cunt without even trying. His ruby-red tip just manages to squeeze between your pussylips, before the first ring of muscle at your entrance makes him falter.
And he’s gritting his teeth at the sheer tightness, voice coming out as nothing but a hiss. “Fuck- didn’t you say that you can take it?” He’s pressing his left hand down at the base of your spine, leaning his weight in to keep you still. “Come back, my love- class isn’t over yet.”
You hadn’t even realized you’d been clawing at the desk until now. “S-sir—”
Just that is enough to make Nanami’s ravaged tip twitch inside of you- spurting out a few more dollops of pre. “Yes, darling?”
“I d-don’t—” Fuck- you swear you could feel him grow even harder inside of you at the sight of your teary expression. Staring at your history professor over your shoulder, “I don’t know if it even can fit.”
“Awww, my poor baby.” And you should know better than to let Nanami Kento hush your cries, you should know better than to let him lull you.
But you can’t help but get pulled into his big, strong arms anyway.
“My poor, poor baby.” And from one corner of the room, you could hear Higuruma’s distant laugh. Although you don’t have the time to wonder what it means, because Nanami’s continuing- “None of those boys ever taught you how to take a real cock, hm?”
And you can only nod.
“None of those boys have ever fucked you right, hm?”
Nodding once more.
“Don’t you worry, darling. If you can’t take this one…”
He presses a chaste peck against your hairline. Letting his soft breath waft over the crown of your head, and his chest ripple with his words, soft.
“-m’gonna make it fit.”
And that’s the last thing you’re hearing before Nanami’s rammin’ his swollen, aching cock into you like an animal- his furious cockhead burrowing in deep.
He manages to shovel just a few more inches inside, before the snugness of your channel acts up once more. Leaving him barely even able to reel his hips backwards—just that much of a tight fit that’s making his eyes roll to the back of his skull.
He shakes.
His groan cracks at the back of his throat. “O-oh.” Both of Nanami’s hands fly to the sides of your hips, and his fingers fucking shake where he holds you. “Oh, yeah.”
“Shit-” You’re flinching at the scalding sensation of his breath. Gusting.
And even that mere shiver- Nanami catches onto it. And it’s only making him clasp your body even tighter, pulling you into him—“You’re really not getting away until we make it fit, my love. Good luck.”
No matter how much his ravenous hips are rutting n’ bucking and trying oh-so-desperately to hammer even more of his inches inside- he can only fuck you in short, needy half-thrusts. The rest of him left to throb wildly behind you, he keeps on stretching and stretching your insides just to fit inside.
Each one of his bucks so desperate. So greedy.
The pointed tip of Nanami’s cockhead prods away at your innards as though he’s trying to claim every single ounce of space inside you-
“Have you forgotten that this is a joint class, Kento?”
Higuruma’s voice is enough to send pulses of adrenaline flowing through your body - and you’re just managing to look around Nanami’s toned frame. The law professor stands behind the two of you with his arms crossed, clothes mostly on except for his trousers being tugged down.
He held his blushin’ cock in one hand, pumping furiously at the sight of his star student.
Nanami himself sighs—though he doesn’t stop his sloppy scouring of your innards for a single second. He looks straight at the other man as he asks- “Oh yes…would you like her now or after me, Hiromi?”
“Now.” Higuruma narrows his heady eyes at the two of you. And the blond-haired man slightly growls at his answer, seemingly grappling with the thought of leaving your pretty pussy right about now- “But don’t pull out.”
You feel like you’re experiencing whiplash. “What?”
Nanami only raises a sharp brow.
And Higuruma himself can’t help but crack a sleazy smirk-
Before you know it, he’s rounding the two of you. Coat off. White button-up flapping open.
He tugs on the smooth, black tie that was hanging haphazardly from his neck- and gestures something indiscernible at the other man.
Though, clearly both professors understood.
Because one second you’re slouched on top of Higuruma’s desk, droolin’ stupidly over some important documents as Nanami Kento pounds you into oblivion - and in the next second, he’s lifting you off of it.
Cleanly off the desk.
One hand wrapped around your waist, the other putting you in a headlock.
He pulls you up as though you’re nothing- and you’re ogling the way his biceps bulge around your throat. Feeling the cushy firmness of his strength—“W-what are you-”
“D’you know what a standing full nelson is?” Higuruma asks. And for a second you think he’s asking you - maybe this was some strange sort of quiz - but then Nanami nods.
“Thought that only happens in fiction? Don’t tell me you’re a secret freak, Hiromi?” He scoffs, though he pulls out either way.
“And look who’s talking…” Then Higuruma looks at you and taps his shoulders. “Hold on, angel, he’s going to lift you.”
“Shit…”
As expected, you’re holding onto Higuruma’s broad shoulders for leverage- whilst Nanami bends and loops his hands around your legs. His strong forearms where your knees were.
Scooping you up into his arms.
Holding them up.
Holding you up.
Hoverin’ well over six feet in the air.
Yelping, you’re digging your nails into the law professor’s shoulders - but if it hurt, then he doesn’t’ react to the pain. Honestly, you don’t even think he could feel it right now—because Higuruma was holding out his tie.
Measuring it against your face-
Tying it around your face like a blindfold.
He knots it at the back of your head, and suddenly the room is curtained in nothing but pure black. You could only hear the gruffness of both men’s chuckles, and Higuruma asking. “Everything alright, angel?”
“Of course, it is.” Nanami mutters- almost to himself. Though he does stretch your legs a little wider, presumably to show to the other man—“Look how fucking drenched she is.”
“Good girl.”
“Naughty, you mean.”
“I must beg to differ.”
And you’re arching against Nanami’s toned front, the plushness of his abs digging against your back. It was the most sensual massage you’ve felt in your entire life- “Please- ngh, what’s with the blindfold?”
“Oh, that…” Higuruma starts. “Guess.”
“What?”
“Guess.”
Brains wracking- “You aren’t going to leave me hanging, are you?”
“No.”
“Is this a roleplay?”
“No.”
“A kink thing?”
“Well…”
“A BDSM thing?”
“Guess.”
You’re feeling helplessness wash over you—“B-but, I already did-”
“No, my love.” Nanami’s the one to speak up this time. He leans down so that he’s pressing an innocent kiss to the edge of your hairline, “We’re going to make this slutty pussy guess which one of us she’s being fucked by.”
Your jaw drops.
And your cunt grows even wetter.
An occasion that the two professors are watching with awe-
Higuruma in particular finds himself breathing out—“And your time starts…now.”
And then you’re hearing the shuffling of his trousers- right before a sudden proddin’ intrusion starts up at your entrance. It was hot and throbbing—so needy that your teeth are set on edge by the sheer volume of precum that he was emptying out.
You’re feeling his thick tip start to eeeease in- squeezing in past the tightness of your channel for a bit before pulling back and fucking you ruthlessly in semi-thrusts.
“H-Hiromi?” You guess. Surely, with him being the one that was removing his trousers it must be…
“Wrong.” Nanami grins.
And then you’re feeling his cock give you a few vicious pumps before he’s pulling away - leaving you all empty and yearning for more. Your glistening hole clenches a few times around nothing, before a sudden globular tip starts kissin’ your entrance once more.
You’re bucking back in Nanami’s arms in an attempt to figure out just who it might be- but the history professor holds onto you firmly. Not a single inch.
Not a single inch less.
Whoever was fucking you takes no more time before swabbin’ his swollen erection inside once more- biting back a groooan at the feeling of your tightening walls.
It’s the same short, jerky thrusts from before just to fit in.
“Sir?” You’re gasping out. But surely, it can’t be twice in a row…“No wait- is it Hiromi this time?”
The cadence of his hips stops abruptly. “Can’t get enough of the law, can you?”
Nanami.
And you don’t know whether it’s the fact that you’re just feeling your brain melt at the sheer stimulation between your legs, you don’t know whether it’s the fact that both handsome men had you sandwiched between their muscular bodies—it was just driving you wild. Making you stupid.
A line of drool slicks down the side of your mouth, and Nanami doesn’t hesitate before leaning in and lickin’ it off. “I should punish you for this.”
“I-I—oh, fuck.” Whatever words were on the tip of your tongue get swallowed up by the feeling of yet another round, ruddied cockhead pushing inwards. Pulsing. Prying apart your walls. And you’re noticing that this one is slightly slimmer than the last, more pointed, more honed, more of its curvaceous tip that tilts to the left.
It makes you shiver at the feeling of his bawling divot dragging across your walls so perfectly. “Is this- sir-”
“Try again, angel.”
It was a struggle to piece your thoughts together, and Higuruma’s voice is the only thing that makes you realize-
“Hiromi.”
“Mhmmm—” Before you know it, the other man has one hand dipping between your jittery legs. His fingers easily locate your clit to tug n’ pry like the cutest gummy - how sweet. And he’s timing it to the constant probes of his looooong, smooth cock. “Good girl. A++ for that.”
“You’re quite the generous grader.” Nanami scoffs. “I would have given that a B.”
“What can I say? I do have a soft spot for her…” Higuruma’s cock was slightly lengthier than Nanami’s, you’re noticing - though not quite as thick. And with less veins that didn’t massage your inner orifices as much, but made it soooo much easier for him to slip even deeper.
Especially with this position, he manages to probe his cockhead further past where Nanami’s thicker one was able to fit.
Reaching almost for your throat with his blushing, frenzied tip- Higuruma gives a final roll over your clit before he’s pulling out. Letting a few ribbons of sap gush down your legs after him-
Ones that are being fucked right back up with a second length.
Thicker. Harder.
Throbbing so much that you swear you can count them all the way at the top of your head- Nanami’s shaft was next. And he’s lavishing your entrance with so much attention—draaaaagging his vein-decorated shaft in and out. In and out. In and out.
“S-so?” He rasps out from behind. Higuruma’s cockhead had mazed open your insides just a bit more, and Nanami struggles not to let his voice tremble. “Which one of us, darling?”
“Y-you—”
That earns you a bite on the shell of your ear. “No.”
Before he’s pulling back out.
And your breath catches- “Wait- I meant sir. It’s you, sir—”
“Too late for that now.”
“Awww, come now.” Higuruma coos as well. “How are we supposed to make an example out of our star student if she just keeps makin’ mistakes?”
“I think she’s gettin’ lazy now, huh?” The other man responds. And now both of their ruddied cockheads were droolin’ all over your entrance- mixing with the sweetened syrup that was already dripping out of you and creating such a mess. “Maybe she doesn’t deserve our cocks at all?”
“Don’t say that—” You could feel your law professor’s eyes turn to you. “You deserve it- hah, don’t you, angel?”
Shivering at the feeling of both cocks sandwiching between your pussylips. Now that they’d both pulled out- it’s as if they were fighting over who can be next. Rubbin’ and teasing. “I do—” Your voice cracks on that last note, “P-please, I do-”
“I’m still not convinced.”
Higuruma continues, “Promise us you’ll be a good girl? That you’ll listen to what your professors have to say?”
“I will I will-”
“Promise us that no more of that teasin’ stuff in class?” His prominent nose slides down the column of your throat, breathing in your essence. “None of that bending over?”
“Yes—” But you could already hear the question in your throat - and it seems that they could, too.
And it makes Nanami gruffs out. “Because - forgive us - but you do realize that it’s not just us seeing your little…display, darling?” He spreads open your legs even wider, and Higuruma’s ministrations grow even more frenzied on your clit. Squeezing. Pinching. Flicking.
And you’re restless- “Wh-what do you mean?”
“I mean to say that there are others more…undeserving that see those legs of yours, those panties, those tits.” There’s a sharp edge to his words—“Those boys in class can’t take their eyes off of you.”
“We can’t either, of course.” Higuruma responds. Squeezing his cock inside- “But at least that little performance of yours is meant for us, right?”
“Don’t like the way they look at you.” Nanami’s also squeezing his cock inside now - both of them bullying your hole at once. Creating a stretch that makes your vision go white- so much carnal stimulation that your entire body wracks with shakes. “Don’t like the way they turn to look. Don’t like the way they have to mysteriously…disappear into the bathrooms any time you do your little show.”
“Given…we do the same.” The law professor continues—“Because fuck- how fuckin’ pretty you look all dressed up in silk. Makes it hard not to cream my pants everytime I see you- but none of those boys have the balls to back that admiration up.”
Giving you a thorough slam—both of them.
Higuruma’s the one to continue, “But we do.”
“Because I rub my cock raw to you, my love.” Nanami ends off, holding you close to him. “N’ none of those boys could ever fuck you like we do.”
“Yes, p-please—” And you’re pushed between both of their sculptured fronts. Unable to see them- but you could feel the ridges and curves of their muscles, the way they were both leaning in as though they couldn’t get enough of you. “I only want…ngh.”
One of your arms wrap around Higuruma’s neck, and the other reaches behind you to attempt to clasp onto Nanami’s.
“Just want the two of you…”
“Hmmm…” Nanami’s cock twitches at your gooey entrance- “A+”
And then they’re alternating between fucking you—
“Hiromi.” You’re gasping at the intrusion of his smoothened tip, the velvety texture of him reaching for so many spots inside you but most importantly- that g-spot.
And then he’s pulling back out.
“Sir- fuck, Professor Kento.” Nanami swabs his thickened tip inside and hits that precise spot. Although he decides to take it a few steps further this time and dig his rounded tip into the very back of your pussy, bottoming-out. “Shit shit shit—”
Thrust after thrust.
Pulling out. Shovelling back in.
Making you guess just which one of your two older professors were takin’ over your pussy right now- it made your head dizzy just trying to keep track. Bounced up and down in their arms.
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi.”
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi—” Before your voice shatters at the feeling of…two thickened lengths attempting to fit inside. Fighting against the resistance for a few sloppy strokes before they’re siiiiiiiiiiiinking in- “And Professor K-Kento, sir…” The feeling of their large, slick-glazed cocks were just incredible - rubbin’ against your walls and one another. Like nothing earlier.
It was a stretch like you’ve never felt before, hittin’ spots that you didn’t even know you had.
And both professors held onto your shaking body tight- they shovelled their lengths in and out of you. Two blushin’ cockheads heading for your g-spot, before their slide-slide-sliiiiiding all the way down to end up at your cervix.
Stretching apart your walls.
Making your channel bulge.
Letting the curves of their mushroomy tips drag apart your walls, n’ press into the sweetest spots of your nerves. Both of their heavy ballsacks smack-smack the front of your cunt right on time with their thrusts. Thrust after thrust.
Again and again.
Nanami grunts at the sensation of Higuruma deep inside you, “F-fuck…”
“You can say that again.” Higuruma himself replies.
By now, the jostlin’ about had meant that your blindfold was falling off- and you could see the two men upon either side of you. Shovelling their hot cocks deep inside your pussy, positively ravaging you.
The law professor’s fingers weren’t letting up on your clit just yet, either.
He quirks his digits just a bit to draw a little heart upon it—and soon enough you find yourself throwing your head back with a moan. “G-gonna-”
“Shhhh—” Nanami grins. His ears keenly listen to the noises from between your legs - they were just so much louder now that you had two thickened shafts ramming into you. “This pussy says she’s gonna cum soon, darling.”
“Y-you little-”
A harsh hammerin’ on your spongy cervix. “Pardon, my love?”
“Nothing—oh.” Even their thrusting styles were different - Nanami Kento with his thorough, solid slashes as though he was trying to reach your womb every single time. And Higuruma Hiromi with slightly slower, smoother glides of his cock - soothing through the nooks n’ crannies that Nanami had activated first.
It was the perfect combination.
Naughty and nice.
Though not exactly in the way you’d initially thought.
And perhaps this manner was what was making you so desperate to cum again- “Please-” Gasping. “Let me cum—”
You’re looking between a grinning Nanami and Higuruma. Dazedly.
“Please may I-” Choking out in-between the moans and droplets of saliva that were gushing out of you- falling onto Higuruma’s puffed-out chest. “-cum, sirs?”
Both of their rock-hard cocks twitch deep inside of you.
And you’re briefly seeing a silent conversation pass between them-
“Go ahead, angel.”
“Cum all over my cock, darling.”
And it might have been minutes, it might have been seconds, it might have been split-seconds later once you’re crashing into your high. The waves of white-hot pleasure taking over you until it felt like your body was burning up.
Feverish.
You’re crying out as you attempt to bounce your lewd hips back into both their shovelling shafts- but they’ve already got you. They’re holding onto your perspired body - so limp now with pleasure - and lettin’ their pointed cockheads hit each and every nerve bundle inside.
Pinpointing your g-spot with their lengths.
Targeting it especially through peak after peak.
After peak.
Your cunt trickles with honeyed slick- and it slips between your three bodies to drench Higuruma and Nanami’s cocks. Their thighs. Their bodies.
Making it even louder to thrust into your cunt—you’re forced to raise your voice just a little just so that they can hear. “Sh-shit…” Until eventually you’re feeling so raw on their relentless cocks that you’re unsure whether you want them to elongate those waves of bliss or whether you want to fucking run away—“It feels so- oh, it feels…”
“And what do we say?” Nanami’s deep baritone croons out. He doesn’t slow down for a single second as he speaks- even though he himself was feeling a little sensitive by this point.
He hits his full ballsack against the front of your cunt and hisses- “Can I have it all inside…” You’re looking between them with wide, heart-shaped pupils. “-sirs?”
And you should’ve known what that would do.
You should’ve known how much that would break them.
Because with only a few final thrusts, both Higuruma and Nanami cum inside you with loud slurps! of your greedy cunt. Gobblin’ up all those white ropes of seed that they were emptying out - sheer volumes that they’d been holding onto for hours, days, this entire semester.
Nanami furrows his golden brows and presses his face into the crook of your neck. Groaning as he fucks you through his orgasm, “A-and here I was just expecting a thank you…”
“Our girl always was the sweetest.” Higuruma coos.
Your history professor rides through his high with his teeth grit, jaw working overtime to keep his noises to a minimum - he wanted to hear your soft gasps and groans even more. Though his body shakes as it keeps on thrummin’ with pleasure.
Visceral.
Meanwhile, your law professor let out such husky grunts after each splat! of cum that he emptied out against your womb. He couldn’t even handle fucking you properly anymore and his hips kept on stutterin’ through his waves.
Cheeks flushed. Gaze locked on you.
He didn’t want to tear it away.
Both of them are cumming so much that you nearly can’t tell who’s who - with their dollops of heated, syrupy sap. Each divot bawling them out messily—you can feel them stick against the end of your pussy, right where your cervix was, before being stirred about by the motions of their cylindrical shafts.
Their prominent veins massagin’ your sweetest spots. Their globular cockheads pumping every single droplet inside you.
Every single droplet.
Not a single bead of that ivory cum escapes—but they’re both still looking at each other with the same idea.
And you’re seeing yet another silent conversation pass between them that you miss. “Oh?”
In almost no time, Higuruma and Nanami have you splayed out on the polished desk - back against its flat surface, legs held high in the air. This time, however, both their faces were between your pussylips and attempting to beat the other—
They were lappin’ their dual tongues over your leaking cunt like they were starved.
Nanami’s hand pressing down on your stomach to make a few more droplets spray out of your hole- Higuruma’s hand flicking over your clit still.
You lean back on your elbows and watch them.
And what a sight it was: both their handsome faces between your legs.
They nudge their noses against the creamy layers on top of your cunt, and swivel the mess around like mad. You could see through your tears the exact moment - the exact moment - that their pinkish tongues meet in the middle.
Where Higuruma’s tastebuds overlap with Nanami’s as they’re suckling on your clit- and they both flinch at the sensation before moaning—
And that’s before the door clicks.
“Oi, why are the lights still on? Don’t you know that campus has closed a long time ag-”
You pause.
Nanami pauses.
Higuruma pauses.
And so does Professor Shiu Kong - Head of the Mathematics Department, also PhD with Distinction.
His jaw drops as his eyes drift over from the mess of clothes on the floor, to the mess that’d been made of you. Bite marks all over your throat. The blindfold still around your neck. And even more - you could see the way his hands tighten on his files as his gaze probes deeper, taking in your leaking, lecherous cunt.
No one moves.
Except for Shiu, who steps inside.
Your heart was in your throat.
Getting ready for a berating of some kind- or potentially even worse. Perhaps a suspension, perhaps Nanami and Higuruma would be fired at once-
“So…” Shiu’s husky voice interrupts your thoughts. “-got room for mathematics?”
A/N. Heheheheh ofc we got room for youuuuuuuuu Shiu <33
tangentwithtanner
baratheonpilled
andulkaphoto
dailybridgerton
