the door slams hard enough to rattle the frame, and you know even before she drops her bag that vi lost herself again. she’s still buzzing with adrenaline from the fight. jaw clenched, shoulders tense, knuckles bruised under the wraps. sweat still clings to her neck, the sharp tang of the pit lingering on her skin.
“baby,” you start softly from the couch, but she’s already moving, boots heavy against the floorboards.
her eyes find you like a predator scenting blood. sharp, hungry, and way too restless for anything gentle.
“get the fuck up,” she mutters, voice rough, chest heaving as she pulls her tank top over her head and tosses it aside. her stomach glistens with sweat, muscles flexing, her sports bra damp and stretched tight across her chest.
you blink at her, heat rising, but there’s no time to hesitate. vi’s already yanking the wraps loose from her fists, tossing them aside before pausing, then smirking, that dangerous curl to her mouth.
“nah. fuck it.” she grabs one of the wraps again, stepping closer, looming over you. “hands up, sugar.”
your breath catches, but you obey, wrists lifted. vi’s smirk deepens as she winds the fabric around them, looping it snug, knotting it so you can’t pull free. her fingers linger, rough and deliberate, and you shiver under the weight of her gaze.
“look at you,” she murmurs, leaning in, her breath hot against your ear. “all wrapped up nice for me. fuckin’ perfect.”
she shoves you back against the couch cushions, straddling your hips, her thighs pinning you down. her mouth crashes against yours, hard and hungry, teeth clashing. she tastes like sweat, blood and victory.
her hands are everywhere. grabbing, groping, pulling at your clothes until you’re bare beneath her. she sits back on her knees, licking her lips at the sight of you spread open, wrists tied, chest heaving.
“fuck, you’re gorgeous,” she growls, one hand palming her strap through her shorts. “been thinkin’ about this all night. couldn’t even focus in the ring, just wanted to come home and ruin you.”
your thighs clench, yout throbbing heat pulsing at her words.
“vi—”
she cuts you off with a sharp slap to your thigh, the sting making you gasp. “nah, don’t talk. just lay there like my good little girl and take it.”
she strips fast, ripping off her sports bra, dragging her shorts down, revealing the strap already strapped tight against her hips, the base pressing into her glistening cunt.
your eyes widen, but vi just grins, mean and sweet all at once. “yeah, i fucked myself with it before the fight. kept thinkin’ about your pussy stretchin’ around me. couldn’t wait.”
she grips your knees, forcing them wide, lining the thick length up with your soaked entrance. her eyes flick to yours, dark and blazing.
“you ready, sugar?”
you nod frantically, wrists tugging at the wraps, body already arching for her.
“fuck yeah you are.”
she pushes in slow at first, just to watch your face twist, to hear the way you whimper her name. the stretch burns, delicious and overwhelming, and she groans low, head dropping to your neck.
“shit. that’s it. takin’ me so good, baby. made for my cock, huh? fuckin’ perfect little cunt.”
you moan loud, nails scratching at the fabric binding your wrists, needing something to hold onto.
“vi, please—”
she jerks her hips suddenly, burying deep into your needy pussy, and you cry out. vi’s laugh is rough, breathless, mean.
“please what? please don’t stop? please fuck me harder? god, listen to yourself, baby. beggin’ already.”
her thrusts are heavy, deep, every stroke angled to hit all right places that make your eyes roll back. sweat drips from her black hairline, sliding down her temple, her body pounding into yours with raw, relentless force.
“fuck, you feel good,” she groans, teeth scraping your jaw. “been waitin’ all fuckin’ night to sink into this sweet pussy. can’t believe you’re all mine.”
her words come faster and chopped as her pace does, each thrust making the couch creak.
“you love this, don’t you? bein’ tied up, used like a toy. my perfect little slut, takin’ it so well.”
your moans break into sobs, tears spilling as the pleasure builds too sharp, too much.
“oh, you cryin’ for me already?” vi coos, mock-sweet, hips never slowing. she licks a tear from your cheek, grinning against your skin. “fuck, you’re pretty like this. wrecked and desperate."
she pulls almost all the way out, then slams back in, making you squal out her name.
“yeah, that’s it. scream for me, baby. let the neighbors know who owns this cunt.”
you can barely breathe, body trembling, walls fluttering around the strap.
“fuck—vi—i’m gonna—”
she growls low, biting your shoulder. “cum for me, sugar. cum all over daddy’s cock.”
the orgasm rips through you hard, your body jerking, cunt clenching tight around her strap. vi fucks you through it, pounding relentless, chasing her own high through the press of the base against her clit.
“shit, i can feel you milkin’ me,” she groans, grinding hard, sweat dripping from her chest onto yours. “such a good girl, makin’ a mess on my cock.”
you sob her name, overstimulated, shaking, but she doesn’t stop.
“nah, not done with you yet.” her voice is rough, mean with affection. “gonna fill you up, breed you so deep you’ll be drippin’ for hours. pound you until all you can say is my fuckin’ name.”
her hips slam harder, each thrust pushing you higher, tears spilling as you squirm beneath her, wrists straining against the wraps.
her thrusts grow almost punishing, the strap pounding into you so deep you swear you can feel her in your stomach. every push drags a sob from your throat, your whole body trembling under her weight, bound wrists useless above your head. vi eats it up, lips peeled back in a snarl, sweat dripping from her chin onto your chest.
“look at you,” she pants, gaze dropping to where her cock disappears into you, shining with your slick. “takin’ it so deep. fuckin’ split open for me.” she drives in harder just to make you cry louder. “my girl’s such a good little fuck hole, always ready to get ruined.”
you choke on her name, legs shaking, but vi doesn’t let up. she presses a big palm to your stomach, right over where the strap hits deep, and smirks when you arch and scream. “yeah, you feel that? daddy’s cock right there, stuffin’ you full. can’t run from it, sugar.”
you’re shaking, tears streaking hot down your cheeks, but she just leans down and licks the salt from your face, lips curling against your skin. “mm, cryin’ so sweet for me. my pretty little mess.”
her hips grind harder, rough circles that have her strap grinding her clit with every thrust. she groans, voice breaking. “fuck, i’m close. gonna cum grindin’ against this sloppy pussy of yours. make me lose it, baby. give it to me.”
her pace turns brutal, deep slams that have your body jolting against the couch. you’re sobbing outright now, wrists pulling at the wraps, legs spread wide as she takes you apart.
“beg for it,” she growls into your ear, voice ragged. “beg me to cum inside this greedy cunt.”
“p-please, vi—please, daddy—” your voice breaks on a scream as she hits that spot again, white-hot and unbearable. “want it, need it—fuck—please fill me up—”
her laugh is mean, breathless. “good fuckin’ girl.”
she slams in to the hilt, grinding down hard, a guttural moan ripping from her chest as her orgasm crashes through her. her thighs shake against yours, clit grinding against the base until she’s gasping, teeth sinking into your shoulder.
the force of her release tips you over again, another orgasm ripping through you, cunt spasming violently around the strap. you cry out her name, tears soaking the couch cushion, body jerking as the overstimulation burns through your nerves.
but vi doesn’t stop. she’s panting, eyes wild, hips still rolling even as you sob beneath her. “that’s it, sugar. milk my cock. you can take more.” she pulls almost all the way out, then slams back in, making your back bow off the cushions.
“n-no—” you whine, but it melts into a scream when she sets a relentless pace again.
“yeah, you can,” she grits, sweat dripping into her eyes, ripped muscles tense with effort. “you’re mine. made for this. fuckin’ perfect hole for me to use.”
you’re incoherent now, broken cries spilling out as she pounds you through your exhaustion. your body’s twitching, pussy gushing around the strap, but vi’s locked in, chasing every last sound you can give her.
“gonna fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow,” she growls, voice dark and barely above a raspy grunt. “gonna tie you up and keep you filled all night. let the whole neighborhood know you belong to me.”
her dirty talk coils hot in your stomach, mixing with the relentless rhythm of her hips until another orgasm tears through you, sudden and brutal. you scream, body thrashing, wrists uselessly bound, your vision going white at the edges.
vi watches, lips parted, groaning at the sight of you falling apart again. she presses her forehead to yours, voice rough but tender under the filth. “that’s my girl. so good for me. so fuckin’ perfect.”
her thrusts slow only when your sobs turn ragged, when your body goes limp beneath her, trembling and spent. she kisses the tears off your cheeks again, softer this time, still grinding lazily inside you.
“look at you,” she whispers, breath hot against your mouth. “all wrecked. my perfect baby.”
she loosens the wraps at your wrists finally, kissing the red marks left behind. “you did so good for me, sugar. daddy’s proud of you.”
but her grin turns sharp again as she pushes in deep once more, cock grinding against your swollen walls. “and we’re not fuckin’ done.”
so, I just started my residency and today is my first day. I was assigned to ortho ward and the head surgeon mistook me (a house surgeon) for assistant surgeon and I had to assist a clavicle fracture case. Today was very cool. 😎
summary: you run into your former sensei after several years, and decide to catch up in a teahouse. as you catch up and share drinks, old roles fade and new (and old) feelings emerge, leading to an intimate moment back at his place.
t/w: former sensei x student, alcohol consumption, kissing, oral sex, blindfolding, ‘good girl/sweetheart’, praise kink, corruption/innocence kink, use of ‘sensei’ during sex, light biting, light man-handling, sex
word count: 5,497
a/n: curated this one for a little while. u rly can’t convince me kakashi wouldn’t be the freakiest naruto boy.
I.
THE SUN WAS beginning to fall, its molten light skimming off Konoha's tiled roofs like a brush dipped in gold. Shadows lengthened between buildings, cutting across the stone walkway like sharp strokes of ink. You moved slowly, your black linen pants loose at the ankles and swaying softly. A breeze toyed with the ends of your hair, lifting strands that brushed against your cheek. You used your hand to brush it behind your ear.
The day had been languid; it was your day off after an intense mission. You stopped by a tea house and ambulated idly across the village with no destination—simply taking in the breath of fresh air and observing the lives of others. You decided if time permitted you, you'd stop by a teahouse. You liked to pass time this way if you weren't at home.
Your eyes peruse the area, observing the smoking food stalls, the soft chatter of couples, but stop when they meet the sight of a tall silhouette.
The silhouette, masculine in stature, stood at the mouth of the side street like a memory too vivid to be old, hands stuffed in his pockets. The wind caught his grey hair just so, lifting the edges into the moonlight to make it seem like thin strands of silver. The thin strands covered some of his face, along with a mask that covered the lower half. It was unmistakable—that was your former sensei.
"Kakashi-sensei!" You call out. You breathe a small exhale from your nose, a smile curling onto your lips as you offer a small wave.
Kakashi turns slightly upon hearing his name called out. His flak vest was worn, the fabric softened with time, stretched across his broad chest in a way that somehow made you feel back in his squad again. It made you feel happy and nostalgic—you softly ran toward him and threw your arms around his neck into a warm but friendly embrace.
He gasps softly, taken back, but chuckles in the end. His arms find your waist, softly patting your back. You pull away.
"Well," he says, his voice virile but as smooth as honey, "if it isn't my most impressive dropout."
You scoff, swatting gently at his arm as you pull back. "Dropout? I made jōnin before I was sixteen. You're just bitter I didn't stick around to suffer through your book recommendations."
He hums, one eye curving. "Ah, so you do remember them."
You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you. He looks different now—older, yes, but in a way that's refined rather than faded. The sharp lines of his jaw beneath the mask, the few strands of silver hair brushing against his forehead—it was undeniably attractive. This time, you saw him in the lens of a man, as a woman, no longer your sensei or your superior. Although, back then, you did find yourself having a crush on him when you were on his squad.
You shifted your weight onto one leg, letting your hip cock slightly as you studied him in return. He was taller than you remembered, or maybe you'd just forgotten how much space he occupied. The snug fit of his uniform left little to the imagination—his torso lean and muscled, his thighs solid beneath those dark pants. You had to remind yourself not to stare too long.
"Are you going somewhere?" you ask, folding your arms loosely across your chest.
"No," he replies, voice low. "Just passing through. Got a little restless."
You nod, letting the quiet settle for a beat. The street behind you is alive—murmurs of conversation, laughter, the clink of ceramic from a food stall. But here in this narrow gap between buildings, time moves differently, like you're somewhere else entirely.
His gaze drifts over you—not overt, but not subtle either. You feel it settle on the slope of your shoulder, the exposed skin of your chest, the soft shape of your body.
"You've grown," he says finally, softer than before. "I mean . . . I always knew you would, but seeing it, it's different."
You glance at him, tilting your head just slightly. "You mean taller? How do you mean?"
He holds your gaze a moment too long. "No, something else."
The air thickens between you. Not uncomfortably, but with weight. You shift your stance, thumb hooking in your waistband, hip cocking slightly to the side.
"Well, I'm not twelve anymore," you murmur.
"No," he says. "You really aren't." His left eye crinkles with a small chuckle, the other hidden behind his headband.
It hangs in the space between you, the not-so-innocent truth of time passed, the shift from student to equal. You went from a girl to a woman.
You clear your throat and gesture to the open street. "Maybe I should get going . . ." you really didn't want to go, but you wondered if he would ask you to stick around. "It was really nice seeing you Kakashi-sensei."
"You're not in a rush, are you?" His voice came softer this time—more like a soft command than a question. You paused, looking back over your shoulder.
"No," you admit, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear again. "Not really."
Kakashi shifted his stance, one hand rising to scratch behind his neck, a quiet gesture. "How about we catch up?" He met your gaze, something indiscernible in his eye.
You feel a small smile tug at your lips.
"That sounds nice," you say, stepping back toward him. "Lead the way."
II.
THE TWO OF you decided to stop by a teahouse, and you sat yourselves at a small table. You'd spent the time chatting.
The clink of ceramic echoed softly as you set your cup down, the heat of the tea still lingering against your palms. The air smelled faintly of roasted barley, cedarwood, and something warmer—comforting.
You were seated across from Kakashi on a raised platform lined with cushions, shoes left at the door, the soft chatter of distant patrons fading behind a paper screen. A breeze stirred the corner of the window behind him, lifting the edge of the lanternlight, casting golden flickers across his silver hair.
"So," you said, fingers tracing the rim of your cup. "Is this your usual spot, or am I just lucky?"
He looked at you over the edge of his tea, one eye crinkling faintly. "Bit of both. I don't usually bring company."
"Right. You're very mysterious like that." You laugh, but you feel flattered to know your sensei willingly invited you into a spot of his. It was a thoughtful gesture.
He chuckled under his breath. "You always did talk too much," he says, "it's amusing. I'm glad you're here."
"Talk too much? You mean back when you made me train for hours?" You scoff playfully.
"You were mouthy." He responds plainly.
"I was twelve."
"And mouthy," he repeated, unapologetic.
You laughed softly, tilting your head. "Funny, I remember being dedicated. The kind of student you probably wish you'd kept around."
His gaze lingered on you for a moment too long, and something behind it flickered—recognition, nostalgia, maybe something a little different.
"I did," he admits.
You didn't respond right away. Just glanced out the window, watching the breeze stir the leaves outside. The quiet that stretched between you wasn't awkward. It was the kind that hummed with things that didn't need to be said outright.
When you looked back, he was still watching you.
You raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Just thinking," he said simply.
"About?"
His tone didn't shift, but the pause before his reply was thick. "You've grown into yourself. A lot."
You gave a short, surprised laugh. "That's vague."
"I meant it as a compliment." His words are simple but carry a weight to them.
You leaned forward a little, resting your forearms on the table, chin tilted. You feel your cheeks grow hot but don't dare show it. You crossed your legs, feeling a strange feeling envelop your stomach. "You're allowed to say it with more confidence, you know."
He blinked once, then relaxed slightly—his posture easing back as he looked at you in full. "You're not the same girl I used to train," he said. "And I'm not exactly blind."
A gentle knock at the table's edge made you both look up.
The server bowed slightly, placing a small tray between you—two ceramic cups, a chilled bottle of sake sweating slightly at the sides, and a small plate of cut up plums.
"Courtesy of the house," she said with a smile. "You're welcome to enjoy."
You gave a polite nod, murmured your thanks. Kakashi glanced at the bottle, then at you, one silver brow arching.
"Oh?" he said, voice low, almost amused. "Are you even old enough to drink?"
You gave him a deadpan look, lips twitching at the corners. "I've been old enough, sensei."
He chuckled—soft and easy, but with a hint of something warmer behind it. "Just checking. Last time I blinked, you were barely up to my shoulder."
You took the bottle and poured for him first, steady and practiced. The way his eye flicked toward you after that—sharp, unreadable, then decidedly unreadable—sent a rush straight through your chest. His gaze lingered far too long on the way your blouse slipped off your shoulder, the soft curve of your mouth, and the gentleness of your hands.
You poured for yourself next.
Then he reached up, fingers brushing beneath his jaw.
And to your surprise, he pulled the mask down.
It wasn't dramatic—no fanfare, no heavy pause—but something about the way he did it made it feel so casual and anticlimactic.
You blinked. Not because you'd never imagined what he looked like under it—but because you had, and you'd never quite imagined right.
He was beautiful. Rugged, yes. Defined by a strong jaw and the faintest scar that stretched from his eye to the center of his face. His mouth was fuller than you expected, with a small beauty mark under it. His expression, unguarded in this moment, was neither cocky nor shy. He was undeniably handsome, with eyes that reflected his intellect and refined nature.
"Wasn't expecting that," you murmured before you could stop yourself.
He arched a brow, lips twitching. "Disappointed?"
You shook your head, pouring for yourself. "Not in the slightest."
The sake warmed your chest and your cheeks in equal measure. Somewhere between your second and third cup, the table between you began to feel less like a barrier and more like a suggestion. The two of you talked for what felt like hours. You told him of your missions, you had been up to after making chunin, and eventually jonin. You shared several laughs, and the more you got to know him, the more compelled you felt to getting closer to him. Now, you could finally appreciate his personality and gain insight into his past.
The sake was crisp, clean on the tongue with a slow burn that hit seconds after you swallowed. Kakashi refilled your cup once you set it down, and you let him.
The lanterns outside seemed to glow a little softer, the edges of the shoji screens more blurred. You'd taken off your overshirt earlier, left in just your tank and loose pants, skin warmer now from drink. Kakashi had loosened the collar of his uniform slightly. You noticed the way his throat moved when he drank, the way he looked more relaxed with each passing minute, elbow now resting lazily on the table's edge.
You leaned into your hand, blinking slow, already tipsy. "You're not nearly as uptight as you used to be."
He tilted his head. "You were my student when you knew me best. Of course I was uptight."
"Fair," you murmured, tracing the rim of your cup. "But still. You're different now."
You sipped again—slow, deliberate. Let your eyes linger on his hands, his jawline beneath the mask, the faint crease at the corner of his visible eye. The alcohol made it easier to let your gaze linger longer than you usually would. Made it easier not to pull away when he caught you staring.
"You've always been hard to read," you said. "Even when I had that ridiculous crush."
Kakashi's head tilted a little. "You had a crush on me?"
"Yeah," you shrug. "It was silly."
He looked at you for a long moment. Long enough that your pulse started to rise. His lips part. "Do you still?"
The question slipped through the air like smoke.
You didn't answer right away. You just reached for your cup again, leaned in, let your bare knee nudge his beneath the table—intentional. You felt your body stir.
"I'm starting to think I never really got over it."
He glanced at your cup, then at your mouth.
"Well," he said, voice low, roughened by the drink and something else, "we should stop before you say something you'll regret."
You leaned in a little more. Close enough to feel the warmth of his breath through the mask.
"Who says I'd regret it?" You smile, a hint of mischief.
Kakashi chuckles. "You have blossomed into a beautiful woman," he says, "it astounds me. Your confidence, your maturity. It's something special."
You blush, though you made your best effort to hide it. You felt a heat coil in your stomach, and your thighs weaken. You reached for the plum on the tray, pinching a small piece between your fingers. You tasted it slowly, watching his gaze drop to your mouth and linger there. The salt and sweetness bloomed on your tongue. You swallowed.
"I don't remember you being this forward," you murmured.
"I don't remember you being this dangerous," he replied.
"Are you always this charming," you asked, "or is it just the sake?"
"It's you."
You bit your bottom lip, and something in his gaze darkened—just slightly.
Another cup. Another brush of your knee beneath the table. You shifted your legs slowly, deliberately, letting your ankle run the length of his calf before you drew it back. The two of you talked more, occasionally your gazes lingering on your bodies longer than it should. It was undeniable, this tension you two shared, it was tangible.
Kakashi's jaw flexed, just once. Then he sat back, steadying himself with a breath.
"We should—" he began, then paused. "If we stay here much longer, I might say something I shouldn't."
You rested your chin on your hand, smirking faintly. "Like what?"
He stared at you for a long moment. "Like how hard it is not to wonder what your lips taste like."
The silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was hot, expectant, weighted with breath and heat and restraint. You felt your stomach flip, a heat that pressed on your chest, down to your stomach, and between your thighs. Suddenly, you became painfully aware of the intimacy of this situation, the alcohol in your system, and how beautiful the man in front of you was. You really wanted to kiss him.
You smiled—slow, unfazed, heat flickering behind your eyes. You giggle loosely, an uncontrollable feeling. You were drunk, and slightly confident. "Maybe you shouldn't wonder."
His breath caught in his throat, his breath wavy. He shifted, setting his empty cup down with care. Then he looked at you, not quite smiling but close—something more intent. "What do you say I get the check?"
You bite the inside of your lip, nodding.
Kakashi smiles, pulling his mask back up. He gestures towards the server and asks for the check. The two of you leave the tea house, stepping into the cool night. You didn't want it to end, especially with the excitement you carried inside of you.
"I'll show you to my place," he says, "if you'd like that."
The tension between the two of you thickens, and you fought every urge to grab his arm and walk beside him, or kiss him, despite being inebriated.
You nod, your heart knocking a little louder in your chest as he starts walking, and you fall into step beside him. "I would like that."
III.
HIS APARTMENT WAS as quiet as you expected. It was dim but lived-in. Sparse but not cold—soft clutter here and there; a few frames, and a book face-down on the windowsill like he meant to come back to it and didn't. The window was cracked open just enough to let the breeze carry in the hum of the village below.
You stepped in without needing an invitation.
Kakashi closed the door behind you with a soft click, and you stood there for a moment, letting the silence settle between you. The kind of silence that doesn't ask anything right away—just lingers, heavy with breath and distance and something unspoken that had been hanging between you since dinner. Since before that, if you truly admitted that to yourself.
His voice came quiet, a little rough. "You want tea?"
You glanced at him, a smirk twitching at the corner of your mouth. "No, I don't," you say.
He paused. "Good."
Kakashi gestures you towards the comfortable couch he had centered in his living room, the soft moonlight pouring gently on the soft green fabric. He takes off his vest, discarding it near an ottoman. You sit in the soft fabric, taking in the sight of his faint muscles from his black long sleeve, and soft contours of his body. He takes off his mask, putting it inside on the coffee table.
You take in the breath of faint mahogany and old paper, a fitting scent for his home.
Your eyes lingered on his face. He was devastating in the soft light—visage masculine but refined. You didn't try to hide your gaze. He noticed—and he didn't look away.
"You always stare this much?" he asked, voice low but amused.
"I'm sorry," you murmured. You swallow, softly laughing. You were unbelievably drunk. "You're really beautiful."
That earned you a faint smile—barely-there, but real. His eye crinkled just slightly. "Don't be sorry, sweetie," he says. You feel your heart skip a beat when you hear that.
"I have to say . . . You were gorgeous at the table," he said, "but I like you better here."
You tilted your head, smiling faintly. "Why's that?"
"Because here . . ." he reached down, brushing your knee with the backs of his fingers, "I don't have to pretend I'm not thinking about how innocent you are, what your lips feel like—what I would want to do to you."
Your breath hitched. It was hard to believe your former sensei had this side to him—or that you did, too.
You swallowed, slowly, the tension curling between your thighs like smoke. You felt heat pool low in your stomach—anticipation, hunger, and something far more tender than you'd prepared for.
"You don't have to pretend anything," you said softly.
His eyes didn't leave yours. "Good."
You didn't know who leaned in first. Maybe it was both of you. But suddenly, your breath was caught between his lips and the brush of his fingertips at your knee, tracing higher, just beneath the hem of your pants. His kiss was slow—measured. Like he wanted to taste you without startling you. Like he knew how new this was for you, even if you hadn't said it aloud.
Your lips parted, instinctive, and you tilted your chin up to meet him.
You'd kissed before—once, maybe twice in your life—but this was nothing like that. This wasn't a boy kissing you too hard behind the Academy, this was Kakashi—steady, warm, and devastatingly in control. He kissed like he meant it, like he wanted to make you feel every inch of it. You felt your toes curl against the floor, hands fisting into the edge of the couch cushion for something to hold onto.
When he pulled away, just barely, his mouth hovered over yours.
"You kiss like you've never been kissed properly," he murmured.
Your face flushed, and you gave a small, embarrassed laugh. "Maybe I haven't."
His expression flickered with something unreadable—part desire, part reverence. "That's alright," he said, thumb brushing your lower lip. "I like that."
His hands slid down your sides, tugging you closer as he lowered himself beside you on the couch. You moved with him, your thigh sliding over his, your hand finding the hem of his shirt, curling it in your fingers.
He kissed you again—deeper now. His hand cradled the back of your head, angling you just right as his tongue swept slowly against yours. You gasped into his mouth, surprised at how easy it was to melt against him. He took his time with you, kissing until your skin burned, until your lips tingled. Until you whimpered softly without meaning to.
He smiled against your mouth. "That's it, sweet girl. Don't hold back."
Your breath stuttered as his hand traveled down—over your waist, then to the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed your bare stomach, warm and slow, pushing the fabric up little by little.
"I'm gonna take this off you, baby," he says, "is that okay?"
You nodded, barely able to speak.
He undressed you carefully, peeling your shirt off, then your bra, his touch featherlight. His fingers traced the slope of your breast, the soft line of your ribs, like he was learning you with his hands alone.
"You're beautiful," he said, dragging a hand through his grey hair.
You felt your cheeks flame. "You don't have to say that."
"I don't say things I don't mean," he said, and kissed the corner of your mouth.
His soft lips trail down your throat down to your collarbone, lingering down to the suppleness of your chest. You arched into him, gasping when his mouth closed around one of your nipples, tongue flicking gently, drawing tight little circles. His hands cup at your breasts, kneading them softly. You weren't sure when your hands tangled in his hair, only that they did—and you didn't want to let go.
You tugged at the waistband of his pants as his hand gripped your thigh, lifting it against his hip. His knee nudged your legs apart just enough, and the friction that sparked between your bodies made you tremble.
He pulled back slightly, lips flushed, breathing shallow.
You could feel the length of him through his pants, the way he hardened against you with every movement, every breath. You felt heat pool between your legs, your thighs weak as you felt your sex pulse in anticipation.
Then his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pants.
You gasped—his fingers brushing between your legs, finding you wet, already aching. He looked up at you with heat simmering in his eyes, the sight of you unraveling beneath him clearly driving him mad.
"You're so wet, baby," he whispered against your skin. "I'll treat you good, okay?"
You whimpered, bucking slightly into his hand. "Then touch me."
Kakashi sat back slightly, eyes dark, thoughtful. His thumb brushed your lower lip again, as if still debating whether to press further. But you knew—he already had you. You'd already said yes in every way that mattered, and you'd asked granted him access to you. He hums pensively.
"I want to try something," he murmured. "Do you trust me?"
The question settled over your skin like a weight. "Yes, sensei."
Kakashi shifts, the muscles of his back stretching softly. He reaches for his mask on the coffee table, the black fabric loosely draping over his hand. Then he leaned in, kissing you one more time, slow and deep.
When he pulled back, he murmured, "Close your eyes for me, sweet girl."
You obeyed without thinking.
His fingers brush against your temple, and he slides the mask over your eyes. You let out a small breath as the world went dark—suddenly, acutely aware of how vulnerable this made you. You shudder, feeling the small hairs of your body raise in the sudden breeze. You felt the soft tug as he tied the fabric behind your head, slow and deliberate.
"There," he whispered near your ear. "Perfect."
Your lips part but no sound emerged.
"Now," he said, voice low, "look at you. Surrendering yourself to me."
You whimpered at the sound of that. Your body tensed—but only for a moment. He ran a hand slowly down your side, palm broad and steady. His other hand slid up, cupping your face so gently it nearly undid you.
You felt the soft curve of his mouth suck the delicate areas of your neck, telling stories with his tongue. It nibbles at your ear, trailing down to your breasts. He sucks at your nipple, tongue flicking at the delicate bundle of nerves. You softly gasp, your hands clutching at anything they can find. He pulls away from your nipple, and you feel a hot strand of saliva drip down your breasts.
Kakashi drags saliva down your stomach, using his expert tongue to glide against your skin. You shudder with every movement, unable to see him. His lips stop at the waistband of your pants. He dragged your pants down in one swift motion, his mouth trailing after the fabric, kissing his way down your midriff, across your hips, until his head dipped between your thighs. His breath hit you first—hot, anticipatory. Then his tongue.
A cry escaped your lips, fingers fisting the sheets as his mouth moved over you with deliberate hunger. He licked, sucked, teased you until your thighs trembled around his head. He took his time—slow and thorough, savoring every sound you made, every twitch of your hips.
His lips find your folds, his tongue sliding through your slick, fingers tracing down them. You moan softly, but stifle it as much as you can. You felt his strong hand splay across your stomach, and his lips lock onto your clit. You give soft cries, your hand clutching onto the green upholstery. You felt dirty in a way, and held back your moans.
Kakashi could tell you were holding back the sounds of pleasure. "It's okay that you like it, baby," his voice is laced with lust, but reassurance. "Don't hold back."
You bite your lip and nod, allowing yourself to surrender to him—fully. His tongue tells stories on your sex, running soft circles on your aching bud, forming a tight coil in your stomach. He slips two firm fingers in your warm core, lips kissing at your labia.
"Kakashi-sensei," you moan, your fingers finding his grey head of hair.
"That's a good girl," he praises.
When you came, it was with a cry that left you breathless, your back arched thighs clamped tight around his head. He didn't stop until you were shaking.
He pulled back with a satisfied hum, one that made you shudder. You wished you could see the expression on his handsome visage as his head was buried between your thighs, but you enjoyed the thrill, and the complete surrender to him.
Kakashi kisses you, his tongue swiping at your bottom lip. You taste yourself, your own mouth wet. His hand loosely coils around your neck, softly parting your jaw with his thumb, pulling you into a deep kiss.
"Hmm," he hums, "do you wanna see?"
You nod. You liked the element of surprise, but the truth was, you wanted to see him.
Kakashi undoes the blindfold. You feel the soft fabric run down your nose, and you shudder. Your eyes flutter, but you're met with the beautiful sight of his visage. He was flustered, cheeks warm with the effects of the alcohol, and lips slick with your sex and your lips. His one eye was closed, and you brought your finger to trace down the scar.
You were glad you shared this experience with him, of all people—but you still couldn't believe it lead to this.
Kakashi had held himself back this whole time. The reality was, he had been aching just as much as you. His length throbbed almost painfully beneath the fabric of his pants. You felt it brush against your knee.
He reaches for your hand, allowing you to feel the arousal you gave him. You reached for him, pulling him down by his waistband, your fingers finding the buckle and undoing it with trembling urgency. He let you, watching your every move, his breath tight with restraint as you freed him from his pants.
You stared for a moment, taking him in.
"Fuck," you whispered.
He smirked, leaning down to kiss you again—slow, open-mouthed. He pulls away for a moment, peeling off his shirt. You admire the soft contours of his body, the shape he was in.
Kakashi uses his hand to guide himself between your thighs. You were still slick, still pulsing from his mouth, and he teased your entrance with the tip of his length, dragging it up and down until your hips rolled helplessly beneath him.
"Tell me," he whispered into your ear, voice wrecked with want. "Do you want this?"
"Yes," you breathed. "I want you, Kakashi-sensei.”
He didn't make you wait. With one slow, aching thrust, he pushed into you, stretching you around him inch by perfect inch. You gasped into his neck, nails biting into his shoulders. He filled you completely, deeply, until your bodies pressed flush. He held still for a moment, his forehead resting against yours.
“I wanted this, so long,” you said, breath trembling. "Sensei."
You kissed him—messy and desperate—before he started to move.
The rhythm was slow at first, dragging friction that sent sparks up your spine. But it didn't stay slow for long. Each thrust got deeper, harder, pushing moans from your lips you couldn't suppress. Your bodies moved in perfect sync, sweat slick between you, mouths tasting every inch of each other in between gasping breaths.
"Look at me," he said, voice sharp, hands pinning your wrists to the upholstery. "Tell me you like it, baby."
"I like it—" you cry, "so much." You buck your hips with every movement.
He groaned your name, hips stuttering. "You feel so good," he sighs, his hands finding your hips and pulling you to his pelvis with deep thrusts. "My sweet girl."
You lay, suffocated with an intense combination of pleasure and surrender. You felt a tight, warm heat pool within you, a feeling more intense than the orgasm he'd given you with his mouth. "I think I'm close—"
Kakashi was following you over the edge, pulling into you with a growl that rattled through his chest. "Come for me," he says.
Your back arched as you felt yourself come undone. Your lips part, a deep sound emerging. Kakashi followed, but pulled himself away. "Do you wanna touch me, baby?"
You nod, swallowing as you reach for his length. You delicately wrap your hands around him, clumsily playing with him. He guided your hand, finishing on your chest.
You lay tangled in silence, chests rising and falling in sync. His body half-draped over yours, lips brushing your shoulder. "You did so good," he says, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"Mmm," you hum. "Did this really just happen?" You smile, a soft laugh escaping you.
Kakashi chuckles. "Yes, it did. You wanted it. You asked me to, very prettily, too."
You lay curled against his chest, your fingers twining softly in the loose fabric of his shirt. His hand moved slowly over your back, tracing lazy circles that soothed the tremble still lingering in your limbs.
For a while, neither of you said anything. Just the quiet rhythm of your breaths, the soft sound of the village night drifting in through the open window.
Then you murmured, voice small and a little shy, "I can't believe I begged you like that."
Kakashi's lips curved into a gentle smile. "You were very persuasive," he teased softly, voice warm.
You tucked your face into the crook of his neck, a light blush warming your cheeks. "Stop it . . .”
“Not a chance," he whispered, brushing a stray hair from your forehead. "I think I'm going to enjoy that about you."
You peeked up at him, eyes bright but soft. "You're terrible."
He laughed quietly, a sound like a secret between the two of you. "Only for you."
You smiled and snuggled closer, your heartbeat steadying under his steady warmth.
After a long moment, Kakashi's voice softened. "You're staying, right? Because I'm not letting you go anytime soon."
Your answer was simple. “I don't want to."
He kissed your temple gently, fingers threading through your hair. "Good."
"Still not in the mood for tea?" he asked eventually, breathless.
You laughed weakly, brushing a hand through his hair. "Only if you make it."
vander fumbled hard like imagine having a gorgeous anarchist boyfriend with a straight up sculpted nose and a crazy haircut and then fumbling him so hard he gets a villain arc
The excerpt paragraph made me look up and stare at my wife for three solid minutes waiting for them to return to the couch. I couldn’t move on with my life. I had to read it aloud to them to their audible disgust and then they read all the comments with unbridled delight.
Synopsis. The first time the cóndom breaks? Raw, next question.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] 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, cóndom tearing, unprotected, creampíes, they’re PÚSSYDRÚNK, breaking furniture, GOJO’S POWERS, first time raw, going feraI, brèeding, proposals, true form Sukuna, dp, manhandIing, full neIsons, headIocks, best friend!Ino, spítting, p talking, p sIapping, they’re big, tummy buIges, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. Hope you have a lovely week!
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 10/10
“O-oh.” His gruff baritone echoes out a slight crack - a crack. Toji Fushiguro never lets his voice shake, he never stutters. You gaze over your clammy shoulder in confusion as the knobbly shape of his Adam’s apple bobs dryly, “It…broke.”
Honestly, with Toji’s sheer barreling size, how could that flimsy lil’ rubber not have broken?
Callused fingertips dig ravenously upon either side of your hips, you’re feeling the ends of his curly happy trail scratch your back as he motions to pull out—
“Oh my god, doll. Doll.” Right before scorching panted gasps hit the middle of your spine and he’s moving his sculpted v-line to rut- animalistically. “You- you feel like-” Buck after buck. Groans strangled, eyes half-lidded, one of Toji’s massive palms come slamming down on the rickety headboard. “-th-this?”
“S’alright.” Toji flinches once your pretty voice speaks up, dazed pupils looking anywhere but at your cutely needy expression. “I wan’ it raw, Toji–”
“R-raw?”
You gawk as veins start decorating his flexing forearm, pointed knuckles white where he was gripping onto the bedframe for dear life. It snap-snap-snaps! faintly underneath his strength, “What have I said about talking outta ya haaaah- pussy, mama?”
“To not.” Your lower lip puckers into a pout that makes him gulp, his head shaking slightly in an effort to regain his senses. “But m’not- see?”
CRACK! That mahogany now fully splintered underneath his carnally itching digits, “You’re- oh.”
To prove your point, your knees push firmly against the springy bedcoils and grind backwards in a slooooow figure-eight that makes his bawling tip slurp ‘round your walls. That makes the hulking man bite back handful of raspy whimpers-
Oh. Making the big, bad Toji whimper?
Though, how could he not when the torn ends of the condom were flapping open to let him gift your deepest insides with the slowest, wettest smooch. Every miniature movement making the crowned top of his swollen cockhead splatter out heavy bucketloads of pre that stuck to your cervix in a steaming hot gloss. Slipping n’ sliding.
Toji flinches as he feels your bloated lips struggle to clench around his plump circumference. So soft. So warm.
“Warm?” Fuck- did he say that out loud? You’re letting your spit-glued mouth curve up into a smile at the way his maw drops with drunken realization. “See? I told you I-”
He cuts you off with a grumble of something that sounds like ‘shaddup.’ And it almost gives you whiplash when, in mere nanoseconds, Toji forces himself to reel back n’ leave your gooey innards squeezing instinctively around nothing - for only the briefest, quickest moment before completely tugging that tattered rubber off of him and sheathing himself silly.
“Can’t- can’t even- fuck! Why does it feel so fuckin’ good-”
Lazy and savoring every mushy ridge and crevice inside of your wet pussy.
Your words croon out, “More- more.”
He snickers, though there’s something octaves higher in his tonality - something unsteady. Abs tensing as he slouches over, Toji traps your throat in a headlock and growls, “T-take it then. Take it take it, dammit.”
It was almost ridiculous just how much he was throbbing, leaving your legs weak every time his puffy veins rawly massaged a lil’ ba-dump–! on top of the tenderest spots along your elastic walls.
“Ngh- To-Tooooji! S’in sooo deep.” You scramble, your body thrashing once a meaty, capped knee pushes up against the base of your spine to make you bend.
“Tha’s it- yeah. Aaaaarch f’me, atta girl.”
“You feel so ngh–” Torrents of sappy saliva dribble out of your mouth and drench the poor pillows see-through, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the swerving crashes of his perfectly spherical crownhead. Over n’ over. “-feels so gooood!”
He was ruthless, pillaging your treasure trove of sensitive spots with bruising batters. Deeper. Deeper.
And you’re so caught up in Toji’s relentless cadence that you almost don’t notice the way his husky breaths grow quieter, something like awe shining in those jade eyes.
Not until a wet splat! of slobber hits your back, “Fuck. Fuck! N’ you can feel me t-too, huh? You- you can feel me- c-can really feel me. Heh- can feel me fucking you all deep inside, huh?” Honed canines nibble down on your earlobe as you nod, pinning you down with his hefty weight. “Can ya feel every thrust? Every inch? Every vein, mama?”
“Yes- yes yes yes yesss–!” Comes out your garbled answer, tiny sobs hiccuping at the back of your throat at the sheer force of his gyrations. Toji was fucking a bright red branding onto his humidly perspired pelvis in memoir of you.
“A-always wanted to try something…count them.”
“Wh-what?”
“Count.” It takes a few slimy snogs to your gummy cervix before you’re realizing what he means, the underside of one of his zig-zagging lightning bolts slithering just against your g-spot and making you whine.
He wanted you counting every winding vein without the condom on.
“O-one.” You’re shrilling out, and Toji was so gone that his glassy irises dilated pure Stygian black. Tendrils of his shaggy bangs tickling the back of your neck, he’s aligning his thick, rock-hard length to rub your sweet walls with two more prominent veins. “Two- hck! three.”
Awe-struck, funneling in great heaving gasps to grunt out, “Ohhh, atta- atta girl. S’that it?”
“No- ngh-” One more vein wrapping underneath the ridge of his slippery slit, two more where his glittery glossed hilt was bulging your entrance wiiiidely agape. And you’re crawling away from the slamming impact of his rummaging strikes. “Six- six!”
“Good giiiirl.”
Leaving you so sappily wet with aroused pre, Toji’s filthy headlock curls tighter around your neck and puuuulls your boneless body further into him.
Practically melting into you. He had you bowed like such a slut, your back glissading down every bumpy ridge of his sweat-dampened abs. You’re counting eight of them in your fuzzy mind before Toji’s calmed his harrowing breaths down enough to spit out, “Don’t run. W-we are going to have soooo much fun, doll.”
And that certainly couldn’t have boded well for your poor pussy.
Because without warning, he slips off a free hand down to cradle the rotund outline on your tummy where his bludgeoning mushroom tip was stirrin’. A thick sensory pad daring to push down–
“Fuh-fuuuuuck—” Toji’s dark brows furrow at the shocks of pressure, biceps bulging once he tightens his lecherous hold on you. You turn to see then that a languid smile rests upon his face as his hips give you a thorough pound, easily pinpointing your g-spot with a beaded few slivers of precum. “N’ when we’re ngh- done…” A soft peck skims across your lips, almost mockingly innocent. “M’gonna hafta buy you about ten Plan Bs.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Princess treatment
“...my w-wife.”
“Yes, Ken–?” You’re cooing in a low, honeyed tone - the exact type that makes your towering husband bite back a primal snarl. Gasping. Heaving.
Your hands tighten on the fringe of his work desk, splayed out on top of so many documents like a slut. You’re about to ask again before-
“My…wife.” Nanami’s handsome jaw shuts with a sharp click! rasping grunts threatening to escape his stern lips as if he couldn’t even control them. He loosens his silky yellow tie still on, “I-I can’t- oh…my god. M’gonna marry you- m’gonna marry you.” Trying - yearning for some semblance of control before the blushing hot cap of his cockhead skims your slicked entrance once more and he’s shivering all over again, “The- the condom- broke.”
And the way your pretty mouth falls into a sweet oh! only makes that clingy rubber crack open even further, completely useless against the way that his pounding length was endlessly growing. Bigger. Thicker.
So many copious bloated inches stiffening up until the ridges n’ puffy veins on his cock rip past even the stretchiest condom - your husband grew so big.
Sensually, your hot fluttering insides squeeze around him just once more and it’s enough for Nanami’s forehead to fall into the crook of your neck with a groan. Sweaty blond bangs gluing to your feverish skin, “Don’t- don’t do that, my love- I hafta pull out…hafta- new condom.”
But for every slimy inch that he was squeezing out of your tight pussy, Nanami was stirring in two more. Chasing the slippery smooch of your raw cunt slurping his rummaging length, enough to drive the man mad.
“Well, you don’t have to.” You’re piping up, knees weakening at the way his strawberry divot squelches out an excited lil’ wad of pre at the notion.
And he’s wasting no time scooping up a clingy hold on your hips, supporting your weight until the globes of your ass were swung almost midair as he pounded you into his frigid desk. “You- you just said–” Guttural, generous lungfuls of air being intaken to help him secure his breath, following every plap after plap after plap. “-you want me to- ohhhh–”
It’s as if his intelligent mind was clouding over after even a glimpse downwards at the way your raw folds were glossing out such a thick frothing of slick all down his girth. Stuffed to the brim and throbbing as his ringed finger pries apart your glittery folds to see - just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
You’re so wet that it’s splattering everywhere, and he easily slides out the now-useless condom in-between sloppy slams. Muttering to himself as if in disbelief, “Really…really want it raw- fuck!”
“Ken- mmpf–!”
And just as soon as Nanami’s fully barreling cock sheaths fully rawly inside of you, your husband’s pinning you laid flat on top of the desk - hiccuping, flinching, simply taking a second to let his thick, veiny shaft draaaag around your dripping wet cunt.
“O-oh.” You’re feeling his meaty thighs kissed behind your own shiver once the dribbling orifice homed on top of his cockhead pushes a deep crater into your spongy cervix. A slurring slew of swears leaves him, gasping. “You– m’really gonna m-marry you, darlin’.”
“Kentooo–” Your hips lurch up n’ down whilst he remains sluggishly unmoving, as if he couldn’t bring himself to unless he wanted to snap. Struggling to push onto your elbows with the way the sheer stretch had you dizzy, it’s like he was impaling you sinfully. “-we a-already married. Fuck- need you to move- please-”
“A-already married?”
In disbelief, his molten eyes flit from the matching wedding rings on your fingers to the way you were adorably whining and begging for his cock.
And he feels his mouth water-
“S-so we’re…married.” Words coming out dry, harsh. But there was something so darkly sexy in his usually-gentle tone that it made your adhesive-like walls clench- “Fuck! Don’t-”
Before you know it - before even Nanami seems to know it - that speckled tie dangling from his neck finds its way wrapped around your wrists, tight. The ends of his thick fingertips holding onto the restraint and tugging you bodily, “Don’t move- don’t you dare– fuuuuck I could cum from just that. I-if you want it raw, you needa hah- behave, my love.”
Honestly, he could’ve cum just from the way your sugary insides were pulsing around him. Just from the way you were so gorgeous underneath him like this.
You’re whimpering, eyes slithering to the dark depths of your head when his mazing divot probes ‘round your tender innards. Tugging on the tie, “Ken- S’sooo good, Ken–”
“Shhhh shh sh, I know I know–” And you swear he seems to grow even bigger at the velvety springs of slick leaking out of you, pulling your walls so taut that you could almost scream. The snaking patterns of his veins dig even further into your sweet spots, thicker. Bigger.
Fuck- was Nanami getting even harder. Throbbing and throbbing every ounce of blood in his body, his temperature was just as feverish as his pace now that he didn’t have that damn rubber anymore.
“O-oh…my god.” A shrilling wail seems to break out from your lips, speckles of saliva glossing your chin as they flap stupidly. “You got- you got even b-bigger, Ken–”
His plowing circumference snags on your rubbery hole, and he’s thumbing down between your sleek slick to help himself sink into your pretty cunt. “Lemme do a-all the work my…my wife.” You watch in awe as Nanami’s face breaks out into a dopey, pussydrunk grin at those very words. “My wife- my wife my wife my wife– such a filthy pussy you have.”
“Wh-what if it gets too big-”
With a thunderous bang! one of Nanami’s thick, muscular thighs comes striking on top of the flat plane of the desk.
Angling his stubby mushroom tip to poke the target of your g-spot like a dartboard, his wobbly lips graze your temple with a hum. “Take it- all you h-have to do is take it.” You’re keening with every mercilessly bludgeoning whack planted towards the very back of your pussy, “Follow my finger-”
“H-huh–” Flapping open your heavy, tear-dampened lashes, you’re following the lines that Nanami begins to draw straightly down your tummy.
All the way from the fat of your pussymound n’ up, up, up to where his bottomed-out length was pushing a circular bruise deeply into your cervix. Back and forth.
“Uuuuup n’ down-”
And it was just as much to make him hold onto his rationality just as much as it was for you, “U-up and down.”
“Yeah? Yeahhhh–?” Nanami coos down at you, the edges of his plump lips twisting into such a sleazy smirk. And right now you were too dumb to even realize if he was pulsating even fatter, “S’not too big hah- now, huh? Look at you taking it like a champ- like my ngh- wife.”
Every uncovered pummel made his body tremble— but the only problem was that he couldn’t stop his foggy glasses from slipping. Hands reaching up to push and push, but he was so pussydrunk that he missed.
“Kentooo–” His dumbifying pace coaxed a few carnal mewls out of you, shakily nudging your husband’s glasses to their rightful position so that he could gaze greedily down at you.
The way your back arched off of the now-moistened desk into the perfect curvature, hips rutting–
“Oh.” Nanami’s sudden, harrowed gasp makes you still - almost. Before he’s scrambling a free hand to dangle off of your slamming flesh and manhandle you back into your swervin’ gyrations, genuinely asking. “Y-you’re my wife- but are you the hah- mother of my kids, yet, my love?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Maxxximum
You’re whimpering as soon as Geto’s thickly padded fingertips descend down to your slobbering slit, thumb and index softly caressing it with a coo. “Awww she wants more, pretty pussy—” Before pinching—
“Fuh-fuck–!” Your head throws back and lands directly on top of his sharp collarbone, body writhing in this filthy full nelson he’d manhandled you into. Was pinning you down into- “Suguru- Sugu- don’t care about the condom, just put it iiiin–”
“Oh, you slut.” He’s mocking a hollow breath, curling his left hand ‘round your waist to glissade your back down his sweat-streaked core. Geto’s broad chest vibrates as he tuts, “And after you said that it was ‘t-t-too much–’”
Truly, he was so mean.
And the only thing meaner than Geto was the way he fucked - striking, vicious rams inside your dripping wet pussy that not even a condom could handle. It’d only taken a few merciless pounds into the deepest, goopiest depths of your cunt until he’d torn it clean through.
Needily, you’re edging your squirming hips further down his toned body. Hiccuping at every bumpy ridge of his abs as you inclined closer to the heated, throbbing length between his long legs–
“Whoops- upsy daisy.” He’s muttering smugly to himself as he draaaaags you back up to where you’d been splayed out all prettily, accidentally bucking upwards so that his crowned, cherry-red tip scrapes straight down your pussylips- fuck.
Gasping, rutting– and it’s all that Geto Suguru can do to try and force out a crazed little titter to try and save his cocky act. “W-well.” Throat dry, he’s never been more thankful that your beautiful eyes were too dazed to catch onto his angry blush. “Since you’re sooo desperate, gorgeous- beg.”
“P-please.”
Aligning the silver orb of his Prince Albert’s to give your flooded entrance a welcoming kiss, frigid and sinful. “More. Tell me you wan’ it raw.”
“Please, Sugu–” Your dewy lips flap desperately at the feeling of that metal piercing decorating the tip-top crown of his bloated cockhead, slick with so many numerous layers of glittering pre that splat! splat! splattered! down onto your pussymound. Your widened, shiny eyes turn to him, “J-just want you raw.”
Oh. Geto Suguru hadn’t even stopped to consider this being his first feeling of your cute cunt without a condom before he’s sinking in.
Slow, aching glides just to fit past that tightly ‘rounded entrance of yours and- shit, were you always this fucking tight?
“S-so soft…” He’s breathing out into your ear without realizing, the rounded curve of his ballsack flinching tenderly at the gummy feeling of your walls hugging him. Before he’d even realized, Geto was fucking addicted.
He was salivating at the feeling of your velvety walls dripping goblets of slick down his veins, long raven lashes fluttering. Almost in disbelief - “So sweet-” And then your sweltering hot insides squeeze and– “So….”
Geto doesn’t even have the words to describe - doesn’t even have the brainpower.
Only scrambling his tense fingertips urgently down to your pulsating damp clit and pinching- “C’mon- c’mon c’mon c’mon-” Gnawing down on his plush lower lip, “Squeeze me a-again, gorgeous–”
“O-oh my god…Suguru.”
Head dazed and heavy, the only thing that gives you some semblance of clearance is the splashing speckles of something wet sprinkling against your cheek. Oozing. And only after lifting your head from the musky nape of Geto’s neck do you realize that he was slobbering. A thin line of spit that hung off of the rosy-pink edges of his lips.
Gasping, “A-are you drooling?”
Fuck- was he? Nose wrinkling in almost-endearing fury, Geto’s nudging your jaw agape to scoop up his excess saliva and spit. Missing.
So dazed right now that he’s splattering about half of the webbed wad beside the unfastened corners of your mouth. A shimmering sheen that he can’t help but crane his head over to kiss away–
“S-so fuckin’ what?” Geto growls from the hoarse back of his throat, punishing your pussy with those signature rude thrusts of his. The ridges of his v-line scratch brandingly into the base of your spine, his thick thighs parting as he bludgeons his achy, sagging cock deeper. “Who’s fuckin’ idea were haaa condoms anyway? Looks so much prettier droolin’ over me l-like this. So much sweeter–”
He was so big that even the tiniest of gyrations had Geto reaching spots you didn’t even know existed, the circular decoration of his piercing acting like a spotlight mazing past every glutinous wall. Striking your g-spot dead on- “S-so much chattier.”
And he wasn’t just talking about those sweetly wailing sobs being torn out of you with every hammering thrust- no.
Your perfect pussy was just as talkative, even more so now that he was rubberless - every slippery sliiiide slurring out the wettest, loudest songs of squelches that make Geto’s ears burn red.
You’re twistin’ and turning with every slap! of his breeder balls skin-to-skin with the treacly base of your cunt, babbling. “Sugu- fuck- Suguru—”
Tugging on one of his long, inky locks that makes him let out a soft oi! He’s squeezing his prolonged, manicured digits around your clit and draaaagging in return.
Grumbling from behind, “H-honestly- s’that all you know to say?” Though, he doesn’t sound the tiniest bit upset, “Ya can’t talk or you just hah- want her to?” Another pinch on your knobbled clit, another squeeze that makes Geto groan your name like a prayer. Sluuuurping, “Talkative girl- might as well let her make the speeches for the association instead o’ me.”
Hit after precise hit, the globular curve of his tip was spearheading you to the maximum.
And Geto’s only growing more animalistic, more drunken – bottoming out till his strawberry-flavored orifice digs into your cervix and he’s forced to bite down on your shoulder to keep from whimpering.
“S-speaking of-” The warble in his baritone voice made your heart race, Geto’s bloated cock giving a sultry lil’ ba-dump–! that you feel all the way in your throat. He whispers scratchily into your ear, “I hear the association has a meeting in here soon…”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Hey, emo boy!
“M’gonna put it in now, baby—” Choso’s breezy summer breaths fan your face, and the cute mahogany eyes he looks down at you with are sparkling. “M’gonna…”
Pushing apart your jittery legs with a slow sluuuurp–! emanating from your sap-glued folds, you’re watching with a coo as he furiously fists his angrily swollen cock at simply the sight of you. Hips bucking into his hand, condom stretching with every growing inch he’s filling out–
“S’gonna be a bit of a hngh- stretch.” He’s gulping, and the scent of his vanilla cologne wafts through your senses as Choso slouches in close. So close. An open palm resting on the mound of your pussy, “S’gonna be- oh.”
He’s not just gasping, he’s heaving.
Lurching back his strong hips, Choso’s rosy lips gape at the singular line of glistening slick that connects his bawling divot to your hole. Winking and just as needy as he is.
“Cho– are you okay, baby?”
A full-bodied shiver running viscerally throughout his limbs, your poor boyfriend grits down on the soft insides of his cheek hard enough to taste iron– “Baby–” He’s strangling out through a honeyed syrup watering his tastebuds, “-baby i-it broke.”
Your mouth drops into a perfectly sweet ‘o’ once you’re taking a look downwards for yourself, the sprayed sheen from between your inner thighs smearing against each other as you clench. “Aww, you pulled it too far down, Cho–” And before he can open his mouth with a few desperate apologies, you’re plowing on- “But, I don’t really mind…”
Choso pinches himself once, twice– he pinches himself five times already until his veined forearm was red n’ raw just to make sure that this was real life.
The very same pinkish flush that was capping the top of his glistening globed tip, streaming out such thick wads of pre that were now beginning to plug up your quivering entrance.
“Choso?”
“Fuh-fuck–!” The fattened pad of his thumb comes collapsing down to cover the sobbing orifice homed at the end of his heavy, throbbing cock. So hard now that his length was beginning to sag n’ spank down on your bloated pussylips with a wettened thwack! “M’sorry- sorry I hafta- or else I’ll cum.”
“I don’t mind.” Ohhhh, Choso had half the mind to plant his ringed fingers over your mouth and make you stop him from losing it. “Wan’ it inside though, baby.”
“I-inside.” Comes out his echoing repetition, hazed peripherals falling to and fro from your needy expression to the way his cherry-red shaft lay sandwiched between your leaking folds.
Ba-dump–! Ba-dump–! Ba-dump–! Right where your perked clit was jolting in carnal tandem with his girth. Fat and aching for but the tiniest touch that it’s almost as if on autopilot that he’s tearing off the rest of that useless condom and letting his sensitive underside sliiiiide–
“O-oh shit.” Choso’s groaning out, half-blindly guiding one of your hands to latch onto his damp locks so that you could pull— stopping himself from throwing his head back because all he wanted to look at was you, you, you.
“Easy there- easy now, Cho.” You hum, the lecherous grin twisting your lips ever-growing once he’s squeezing and squeezing his curvaceous head just past your entrance - sensually.
Ragged, mindless thrusts that fit his wide length inside - Choso was just so big that only a singular plump inch inside and you’re damn near being driven mad.
And that’s exactly all that it takes - an inch.
An inch stuffed inside of your velvety, plush cunt before Choso snaps his hips and cums. Over. And over. And over. In thick, saccharine ribbons that dollop down the sides of your channel and stir like a slushy every time he’s swivelin’ his pointed tip into your softest innards.
“Shit- shit shit shit I can’t believe I-”
“No need to be hngh! shy.”
“But I-”
“I-insiiiide-” Your arms wrap around his neck and crash an open-mouth kiss that he whimpers into, sharpened canines nibbling on your bottom lip like a candied gum. Hollow, rasping breaths every time he’s fucking and fucking his pounding cock. “All- all inside- fuck–”
And then your rubbery ring of muscle snags on one of his slimily scraping veins and tightens– “N-now tha’s just unfair.” He hiccups, dark eyeliner smearing with every gulping sluuuuurp your winking pussy milks out. “-sh-she feels like heaven.”
You’re flinching as one of his sensory tips scrape the milky outer edges of your sloped pussy, puddling a glutinous few cobwebs of seed that he promptly glides across your lips like a staining ivory gloss. Kissing you.
“So soft. So…warm w-with my cum–” He’s drawling out, feverish forehead hitting yours with a dull thud. Choso’s boring dead-on into your hazily dilated pupils as his orifice constantly pumps out sploshes of sappy cum, “Think m’gonna m-marry her hngh- you. Her. You.”
“You’re too cute, baby–” You’re huffing n’ puffing with every pap! of his humid v-line stinging the base of your dripping cunt.
And Choso might have been sweet, but the way he was fucking you into the mattress was definitely not. Anything but.
Brows furrowed, nerves on his neck popping, snarling his teeth like an animal— he’s gnawing down on the globes of your shoulder and drilling his swollen length into you like he was crazed. Feral. Your treasure trove of honeyed spots being upturned like never before, even when Choso was bludgeoning his hips back at the recoil you could still feel his probin’ circular bruises.
“Yours–” He’s punctuating his pants with a sharp gust of that particular word, like a mantra. Warm globules of drool and eyeliner seeping into your skin, “Yours yours yours- yours.”
You’re whimpering at the chilling drag of his pierced tongue swabbing down your bottom lip, “H-haaa, baby– cum in me once m-more, m’kaaaay–?”
“P-pinch me.”
With a questioning glint in your gaze, you’re pinching Choso and watching as he all but melts at the pinpricking pain. So he wasn’t dreaming.
Collapsing his hefty bodyweight on top of yours until the bumps of his washboard abs kept on glissadin’ down your front, moaning. “S-so it’s real. It’s real.”
Hiccuping, trembling.
“M’gonna cum- gonna c-cum alllll for you now, baby—” He’s hissing through gleaming clenched teeth, and something in his voice shakes. Pitches octaves higher, “M’gonna cum- c-cum until you can’t- even- fit- it- and- and in return…”
Pound after pound after pound and yet Choso still finds the time to tenderly cradle your dominant hand and curl it possessively around his neck. Groaning, “-choke me.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - MILKYWAY?!
“Shit- shit, look at the mess you’re making.”
More like the mess that Sukuna himself was making - all in thick, clumpy ribbons of cum that poured from the crevice of your pussylips. It made such a saturated lil’ puddle on his cursed pair of lips, licking and grinning at the way your poor pussy couldn’t keep up with his sheer loads.
And, clearly, those puny human condoms couldn’t either.
“Keh– don’t need this shit anyway.” He’s scattering away the shattered remnants of rubber, holding your pretty hips hovering up in their cute lil’ reverse cowgirl as he watched you driiiiiip–
“R-raw, Kuna?” Your whimpering wails ring over the sultry squelches of his second tongue sliding up n’ down your puffy bloated folds. Every dragging movement of his globular tip making you flinch oh-so-adorably on top of his sculptured hips. “Can you even handle it?”
A thorough spank! on the globes of your ass leaves you whimpering instead, Sukuna’s snickers bellowing out. “Who’d you think yer talking to?”
“W-well if I get pregnant, I want a hngh- daughter though-”
“Tch- daughter or son, you’ll get my hah- heir, brat.”
Precariously, you’re being jostled on top of him as he slouches back on his royal bed, third and fourth hands thumbing at your soppily glued-together folds and watching as their smeeeear with milky cum.
A sploshing trail of it follows from the inner parts of Sukuna’s thick thighs to right where his dual raw mushroom tips were swabbing your sloppy entrance. Just the slightest smooch of his feverish, sensitive shaft slits leaves the king hissing– “N’ you’re gonna take it all like a good girl, mama.”
And oh- oh, fuck.
Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t prepared for this.
For the way your velvety folds pry apart and swallow him like your pretty pussy was starving. Rummaging length being bustled deeper n’ deeper, you were so fucking hot inside that he’s fighting not to let his crimson eyes sprint to the back of his head.
“O-oh you’re–” And Sukuna’s gruff baritone cracks; no matter how much he’s clearing his throat, it’s holed with so many voice breaks that you’re turning your head ‘round and smirking.
“Did you just-”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He’s burning, feverish.
Another stinging slap and a few skitters of cursed energy flow through your body - like the lecherous brush of his bawling, swollen cocks was enough for him to be losing control over his own powers.
“S-so this is what this pretty lil’ cunt feels like- hah-” With a solid plunge, he’s spearheading those plump, split-ended heads until they mark two fat circles on your sponged cervix.
Your fluttering folds peck his coral-pink happy trail, tastebuds simmering with what felt like the savory taste of him - bottoming out, and Sukuna finds his devilish eyes fucking welling with tears. Head tumbling back because you were so soft and warm and tight. So, so tight–
“Tight, huh?” Did he even realize he was babbling all this out loud? Your lip-slicked lips struggle not to wobble into a dumbified pout, pupils wandering the whites of your eyes in circles every time his silky girths brushed up against you and each other and you–
With a grouchy grumble, Sukuna’s planting another solid thwack! of his monstrously large fingertips on your right asscheek - or, at least, he tries to.
Oh, does he try.
The roughened plane of his palm coming down - missing. Hips instead bucking upwards with three repeated whacks into the bottom of your pussy, he’s caressing the slurping lips of your bulging cunt instead with an almost whine– “K-know your hck! place, human.”
Almost whining.
The lecherous ends of his second tongue slither around the sheeny insides of your thighs and start to toy lil’ hearts on top of your perked clit. Leaving Sukuna to ram, leaving Sukuna to gasp– “You’re never gettin’ off easy after this- oh, you’re never getting off easy.”
“Wh-what do you…” Your stupidly saliva-filled mouth goes completely dry at the look of complete and utter raw need on his face.
Eyes struggling to bat open, mouth glittery with spit, nostrils flared once he’s punishing the insides of your dripping wet cunt one slam. Two. Three. “Gonna hafta let m f-feel this ngh cute cunt allllll the fuckin’ time now, mama.” He’s croaking out through ragged bursts of breath, latched so deeply on your hips that he was clawing at you now. “Gonna hafta- feel her- breed her.”
“You- you already are–” You’re crying out at the jiggling cylindrical bulge being furiously fucked into your tummy, Sukuna’s barreling lengths pinpointing parts of you you didn’t even know existed with his swashing webs of cum.
Over and over.
“You think this is me heh- breeding you, brat?” Glowing crimson eyes widen at you, feral. “This- no no no no- this s’me fucking you–” He’s creeping up a vice-like hold on your perspired neck, keeping you from crawling away – keeping you hostage to every vicious plap! of his rugged v-line hips. Matching twin cockheads stirrin’ you from the inside out, “-twice.”
Filthy, filthy splotches of pre leave a mess that slips from your treacly slit. You were so wet that you’re practically sobbing steamy torrents of sap that glistens down his thighs, and Sukuna’s finding himself in fucking heaven.
“Ohhh m’gonna breed ‘er-” He growls through his clenched teeth, abs tensing until the globes of your ass slipped over the ends of every ridge. “Breed her every day- every h-hour-”
Your body jerks at the sweltering hot gusts of his pants striking you from behind, attempting to keep up with his vulgar, vulgar pace. “Fuck- fuck fuck fuuuck. Dunno if I’ll last, Kuna–”
“Cum-” And the curling corners of his grin slant with something predatory, murky pheromones leaving your brain hypnotically heady. “-the momma’s s’pposed ta cum if we want a baby.” He didn’t even believe in old wives’ tales, but the way you moved your hips made him so dumbstruck.
And you didn’t know who was faring worse - him or you once you’re letting him fuck you through your filthy high.
The sparks n’ waves of your orgasm crashing into you all at once, Sukuna’s dabbing your tenderized g-spot with so many hits upon hits. Milking your high, ravaging his naturally veined cock until every inch of him was raw n’ red - so pussydrunk that he doesn’t even realize he’s bulldozed into his own high until you register it first.
“Sukuna—” Your mouth dangles wetly open, breezing gales of gasps ripping from you with every weighty splat! of something wet and gooey at the back of your pussy. Double the probes to your g-spot, double the ribbony wires of seed sprinkling into you - he’s never using a condom ever again as far as you let him.
“O-oh, mama…”
And the king of curses was so mesmerized at the creamy frothing dripping out of you. Sticky, syrupy white that glues to the backs of your thighs and makes his second mouth water - so much so that he doesn’t even realize that he’d whimpered.
♡ INO TAKUMA - H.O.T.T.O.G.O.
“M’fucking you- I-I’m really fucking you-” The last word of that sentence ends up strained, scratchy and gone. “...raw.”
“Taku~”
“Fuck-” It was just too cute how Ino’s blushing cheeks just barely peeked from underneath his heavy, cotton ski mask. The humid fabric sticking to his heated skin as you swerved your hips in a slooow heart–
“Aww– c’mon now, Taku.” Your fingertips scratch down the sweat-matted tendrils of your best friend’s chestnut bangs, tugging - and it makes him let off the prettiest pitched groan. And the sinful noise itself is enough for you to slip yourself down just one more swollen inch, “No need to be shy—”
“B-but raw? Seriously?” Comes his answer, head throwing back into your satin pillows at your lecherous motion. And Ino’s hands are twitching - clawing at your hips as if he wasn’t sure whether he wanted you to slow down or ride the utter soul out of him.
Traitorous hips arching off of the bed with a rickety creak–! he’s creeping his globed pink-tipped cock deeper past your softly saturated folds. Mumbling away, “F-friends don’t do this-”
“Well— d’you want me to stop, baby?” You’re scoffing, eyes flittering over to the golden foil you’d accidentally torn with your teeth. “Or, I could get another condom-”
“No.” And the answer is so sharp and hoarse that you’re both momentarily shocked - aroused. The temperature in the room rising about ten degrees, and Ino looks burning hot when his half-lidded eyes finally emerge from underneath his mask, “No.”
His slender fingerpads caving in to the curves of your hips, down. “N-no.” Ino’s gritting through clenched pearly whites as he’s grabbing a handful of your asscheeks and slamming you down. “No- no no no no- don’t move. Don’t-”
And fuck- you’re watching in awe as the realization hits him that he’s really, really inside you raw.
That heavenly gaze takes over his molten peripherals and turns them pure white with eye-curling bliss, strings of spittle departing with every babble. “Move- p-please move.”
Ino was so fucking looong that the outer parts of your thighs ached after every trawling drag from his burly base to his pink, dewy-tipped cockhead. Glossing your puffed-up pussylips over with a ribbon of creamy pre every time you bounced your hips vulgarly.
“You should haaaah– make up your m-mind, Taku—” You’re giggling smugly, watching as his pert mouth drops deeper and deeper into an adorable oh!
“S’your fault- r-raw.” Lilting baritone cracking ‘round that last word as if his melty mind couldn’t even think to say it just yet. He’s nibbling down on the insides of his cheek with a grunt, “Your fault y-your ohhh fuck- your pussy feels t-too good, pretty–”
Ino’s mahogany lashes flutter rapidly, blinking back shiny beads of tears at the sexy clenches n’ kisses of your gooey walls. Slouching further back, he gazes with labored breath as your parched cunt dribbles a sweltering rope of sap down one of his prominent veins. Dumbfounded.
In love.
“Wh-why does it feel so good–” One of his thumbs brush down to your sprinkling folds as if confirming the absence of a condom. Sure, he’s had practically no experience but this was heaven. Moaning throatily, “Wh-why. Shouldn’t feel this- it shouldn’t feel this…” You’re catching a hint of something unreadable in his eyes as he drifts his fiery gaze to you, “C-can you write my name, sweetness?”
And how could you not listen to that request?
Copping a solid handful of his battle-toned pecs, you’re balancing yourself enough to spell out a sloppy T-A-K-U-M-A with his barreling girth - weakened bedsprings singing as you do. The swirlin’ on those U’s especially poking his cream-capped crownhead into your favorite nooks and crannies.
Ino’s widened gaze glasses over as his muddled mind follows every letter and every squelching draaaaaag of his name.
Letting a few slimy veins skid directly into a clash with your g-spot and watching as you whine– “Oh….birthing hips” He gasps as if just coming to the realization.
“Birthing hips?” You’re cooing in amusement.
And Ino can only nod and nod and nod. Plunging his hips needily upwards to chase that engulfing snog of his ridged slit gliding along your silken insides. Soft. “Gonna make me lose it-” He’s gasping, free arm shooting up to curl around your neck and dragging you into a filthy, filthy French kiss.
“T-Taku mmm—” You’re blabbing out, stupid on the way his tufts of tawny hair rubbed up against your clit so deliciously.
“Gonna make me l-lose it–” And then you clench and Ino slobbers - he was fully fucked-out, gone. A blossoming blush taking over his body like a heatwave, silken locks heavy with perspiration until he had to just spy through them, cock twitching. “-gonna make me- oh…gonna m-make me…propose.”
Before you can even think of responding to his little confession, he’s summoning every existing ounce of strength in his body to clamber up onto his elbows. Glittering droplets of spit slipping from his puckered lips, “Need to pull out- need to, but…” And murked clouds of candied breath depart from his maw as soon as he readily opens, “-wan’ you t-to spit in my mouth, pretty.”
And you do - in a thick, viscid wad that glues mostly to the side of Ino’s mouth with the way he was fucking you so urgently. Hips drilling in a feral motion like he couldn’t bring himself to stop, to slow down.
You find your brows raising in intoxicated surprise as Ino startles out a shocked, drawling giggle– his husked tone veering octaves higher at times. “Y-you missed.”
“Hey- mmpf!”
A fat thumb comes to wipe off the driveling excess decorating the side of his face - before he’s stuffin’ it into your pouted maw before you can even think to complain about your target.
With his rummaging digit hooked inside your mouth, Ino drag-drag-draaaags you closer to him, his next few uttered words tickling the curve of your ear. “S-since you missed, I get to haaaa- cum inside now, sweetness. M’kay?”
♡ GOJO SATORU - “It’ll work.”
“N-no it won’t.”
“Yes it will.”
“No it- fuck!” And you can’t even get irritated with your overeager boyfriend’s cursed energy for crushing those flimsy condoms before he’s fucking you stupid with exactly that–
Raspy breaths labored, neat crescent nails clawing onto your hips - Gojo’s slamming his slenderly toned hips into yours so hard that sparking bolts of blue lightning flicker from his skin onto yours.
“S-see–?” He’s cooing in a sultry smooth tone, one stray thumb catching on the saturated edges of your pussy and prying apart wiiiiide enough that he can glimpse the concentrated limitless wrapping ‘round his barrelling hard shaft. “S’working- h-heh, who needs fuckin’ condoms when you’ve got the ngh- strongest, sweetheart?”
“M’tell- telling you–” You’re struggling to puff out - to gasp.
“Yeees?”
“I-it’s not gonna- fuck–!” And Gojo - oh, he’s letting his hazed sapphire eyes circle with a ring of glowing power as his Six Eyes directs his spherical, sobbing tip precisely to your poor g-spot. Whack after sodden whack.
Gojo was so fucking big that every one of even his tiniest grinds was bound to leave wet lil’ smooches on your cervix. Winding patterns of sappy pre that sploshes into every crevice and cranny he’s stuffing his scalding, limitless-decorated length inside of.
Cocky hums breezing against the tender lobe of your right ear, “What was thaaat?” You’re whimpering once a pair of his pale, lengthy fingertips creep down to your pursed pussylips and pinches. “C’mon squeeze ‘er t-tighter f’me, my girl-”
“Y-you’re sooo—” You’re sobbing out, heels flinching into the plush padding of his shoulder muscles as he’s rovering a targeted hit to your bulging g-spot.
Until he’s sure you’ve memorized the exact rounded pinpoint of his divot, the exact shade of pretty pink nuzzling up to your delicate patch of nerves.
“What was that? Huuuuh–?” Gojo’s perfectly pearly white smile twitches into something almost dangerous, “C’mon- you can hah! do it.” Smoky breaths hitching with every cute squeeeeze of your carnally heated innards, he’s clenching your oversaturated folds snugger. “Tighter. Tighter.”
And that’s exactly what you do.
Just the noisiest, most lecherous hug of your silken soft walls all kissin’ all over his sheathed girth and Gojo finds himself flinching.
Long lashes flapping his watery eyes shut, handsome jaw ticking with a sudden tension, gasping- bucking. And you’re throwing your head back with a sob when the doughy fingerpads gripping onto your pussymound buzz with the power of leaking cursed energy.
As if Gojo wasn’t even in control anymore.
“Raw-” He’s strangling out - hoarse. Parched. “I’m- raw…”
“T-Toru, are you o- fuck.”
Your heart almost stops when the strongest finally lurches his head up at your announcement of that little nickname as if on primal instinct. Flinching. Heavy lids pulling open just the tiniest bit– and the look in his dilated, near-black told you that something in him had snapped.
That something in him was just about on the verge of racking up a kill count higher than the population right now.
Against the tiny inkling of rationality flashing red in your muddled mind, you’re breathing out, “Toru, are you alright?”
“Do I look alright, sweetheart?”
“D-did it work?”
Gojo’s movements are rapid, jerky as if he’s being strung along by some external force– and those glassy eyes fall upon where your sloppy hole was readily swallowing his every lollipop-red, raw inch. And then he startles out a shock of laughter– “Didn’t work.”
His limitless had faltered and now so was he.
Your skin goosebumps with concern at the air, lilting octaves in his voice. The way that he’s ramming a thoroughly rummaging strike to your gooey core that you seem to feel all the way in your lungs.
“D-didn’t work.” He’s giggling into your ear, the raw - raw - scrape of his orbed divot digging a translucent line of pre all the way down, down, down to your womb and leaving him hissing. “Didn’t work didn’t work didn’t work- didn’t work n’ I haaaah- don’t regret it one bit.”
“Y-you don’t?” You’re blubbering out, every sappy smudge of his veins across your g-spot was leaving you oh-so-stupid on his fat, veiny cock.
“Not- one- bit-” Every single word, every single syllable was punctuated with a thick, solid pillage of your gummy walls. Because now that Gojo Satoru had finally felt all of you - he couldn’t get enough. “Y-you’ve been holding out.”
Before you can even think to wonder what he meant, he’s sinfully leveraging those supernatural reflexes to swat down a few more digits on top of your dribbling cunt and spreeeead.
“Look at her- feel her. So soft, so wet-” Hiccuping, a tiny sob crackles at the clogged-up back of Gojo’s throat every time he’s running his rounded cockhead into you. Great glittering tears dangle from those snowy lashes of his, “S-so heavenly and- ohhhh you’ve been holding out my girl– look at you.”
You’re wrenching your dizzily circlin’ gaze open to watch as he’s splurging a few stringy wads of slick onto his fingers and letting it streeeetch slimily between them. “Y-you’re filthy-”
“O-oh right, no playing with food…”
Hah, as if.
Not even nanoseconds later you’re feeling the buzzing spank of those very same digits rolling over your needy clit simply throbbin’ away. You whimper once he’s twisting the delicate nub in his touch to write a pretty TORU~♡ right on top.
“Might just b-be my new hngh- obsession.” Gojo’s purring against your cheek as you writhe and whine underneath him so cutely, glittering eyes dead-set on you. Recording every detail. “Never gonna let you go now- ngh- gonna fuck you forever- gonna feel her- haaaah- you’re m-my girl, right?”
And you’re simply nodding and nodding and nodding as he’s cooing at you through every shuddering ram.
Right where his sculptured pelvis was riding against yours was now starting to burn bright red, the stinging impact seeping out such powerful waves of reverse cursed energy zapping through your body so that Gojo wouldn’t break you when his tempo got harder and harder–
“You’re gonna c-cum soon, sweetheart-” He’s choking in-between a gnawing kiss down on your syrupy tongue, feeling the way your scalding tastebuds water once you realize his Six Eyes was accurate.
Your cottony head throwing back uselessly into the decadent pillows with a wail, “Please- please, let me cum- Toru–”
“Gonna cum- gonna cum f’me.” He’s muttering underneath his breath, and through the teary cracks in your lids you can make out the way that Gojo was snarling. Eyes wide, dimples cratered, a sheer raw intensity to him that you’d only seen in battle before.
One of his knobbly-tipped indexes draws an invisible line halfway across your stomach, skin tingling wherever he caresses. “There.” Gulping, mouth dry, he’s battering your sloppy cunt with one-two-three more resounding hammers. “There.”
The euphoria that crashes into you is so strong that he’s displaying you with his big, beefy forearm to sink your teeth into and bite - hard enough that you’re tasting metal.
He’s shoveling quick, exact pounds that hit you right when your highs peak, multiple.
And it wasn’t just you cumming - it was your beloved Gojo, too.
Skin electric, eyes scrunched, the romantic lighting in your bedroom shattering and shooting out pieces of glass that bounce off of the limitless he’d cast over the two of you.
Hours and hours later you’ll be wondering why the entirety of Tokyo doesn’t have power, but for now you’re too amazed by the fact that Gojo didn’t even seem to realize he was cumming, almost like he couldn’t even stop now that he’d started.
Raw, he was finally filling you up just the way he’d been dreaming of for so long.
He’s only cooing at your marking gnaw as if it was a cute nibble, “Yeah- yeah take it.” Husking voice cracks bleeding out of him with every streaming spurt of seed that floods out like a waterfall inside of you. “Take it take it take it–”
So much that it splashes out of you and formulates a syrupy puddle that Gojo dips a few fingertips into and sucks. So much that your numb legs are thrashing with the dilemma to either run away or milk him for more, more more–
“No running.”
Gojo’s voice has dipped back into a stern bass as he’s announcing, curling his left- no, right? - your mind was so sweet n’ cotton-filled that you could barely even think anymore - palm ‘round your throat and draaaagging you back to scratch the tufted white curls at his base with your sprinkling pussy.
He’s craning down enough that his spit-stained lips tickle the shell of your right ear, “My S-Six Eyes says it didn’t take…” Another probin’ thrust, this time pumping his sickly honeyed web of cum right against the door to your womb, “-yet.”
A/N. Quick question- was my Gojo favoritism showing this time-
In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.
If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.
So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.
I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?
However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.
Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)
And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.
Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.
It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.
Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?
While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:
She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.
You see where I'm going with this.
When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:
And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD
When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.
MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS
No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.
And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:
Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!
The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.
And, uh
Yeah.
I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.
But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.
Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:
But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.
There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.
After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:
"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.
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