♡ TW: noncon, yandere, arranged marriage, infertility, 7-year age gap
♡ FEM reader
♡ P1: DUD
It's been a month since your wedding night.
You're still holding onto the hope that this is all just some fleeting interest of his—something he’ll grow bored of come time. By this, meaning your marriage.
You try to speed it along by making yourself seem as dull as possible, avoiding him to the best of your efforts and otherwise ignoring him if you fail to do the first—anything to make him lose interest.
Even so, you’d obviously still have to be his wife. Until death do you part is a binding vow unfortunately, and so, even if you could make him regret ever making it, you’d still have to be Mrs Gojo on paper, and be bound by the duties that come with that title, but outside of that, hopefully, you wouldn't have to see his face any more than what was absolutely necessary.
If you could get your relationship to where that was the standard, you’d find ways to make it work. You’d be the wife of a very rich man, after all, it would be a shame not to reap the benefits for all they’re worth.
Odd as it may sound, having a kid wouldn’t be so bad either. If you aren’t allowed to leave the grounds, having something to do would be nice.
But the problem of your faulty constitution still remains…
But maybe… you could hit two birds with one stone… and revert his attention away from you while simultaneously earning something to occupy your attention in return.
“There she is—my little wife,” he comes in cheering, full of lazy smiles and devious eyes as per usual.
You’d been hiding yourself away in the reading room—a place you doubt he’s ever visited—and still he found you, just like he always does. Suppose those six eyes are to blame.
Even if you never really understood what they do, you know it’s something bad, judging by the sight of him.
“Ew,” you cringe. “You’re covered in blood, go wash.”
It wasn’t an overstatement. He literally was. White hair and pale skin all filthy with red. He doesn’t seem to think much of it. On top of you despite your comment, with no regard to the book you were reading, with a chuckle against your neck, drawling, “Don't say that, you’ll hurt my feelings.”
You sigh, disgusted with him more than usual, deciding it was time to put your plan into effect, “How ‘bout you go fuck one of your whores instead and leave me alone.” Cringing under his touch, and how he reeks of rust and salt.
“Aw—you’ jealous?” he grins in your ear.
This time you scoff, teeth grit. “Not particularly. I just fail to see the point in having you keening in my ear when there’s nothing to be made from it.” And with another sigh, you mumble the suggestion, “At least a whore can get you an heir.”
He doesn’t seem to pique his interest. Only snorting at the prospect while he continues in his pursuit of touching you beneath your shirt, “Tch, trust me, the last thing I want is a stinky brat running around spoiling all my fun.”
With a grimace, you veer your head away from his onslaught, feeling his bloody hands grip your waist rough, molding your body against his, into that hard bump kept in his slacks.
You swear, trying to talk to him is like trying to talk to a dog with a bone.
“It’s not as though you’d be bothered,” you continue nonetheless, insistent. “Raising the thing would be my responsibility anyway.”
That actually gets his attention. Stopping, he lifts his head from sucking marks into your chest and looks down at you, now with a furrow between his brows.
“You’d really do that? Raise my bastards?” He questions.
To which you just shrug, saying, “Of course. Seeing as I'm stuck here, I might as well do what I’ve trained to do all my life. It’s my only purpose now, after all.”
His brow quirks, repeating your words as a question, “Your purpose?”
He laughs again then, this time more heartily, saying, “Silly wife… Your purpose is much simpler than that...”
Shaking his head at you before leaning back in, now with his lips just a breath away from yours. “Being mine.”
The proximity invites goosebumps, and so do his words. Feeling a deep shudder run through you. Nearly whining as he continues from where he left off, back with his hands around your waist, tugging your skirt up until there’s nothing separating his fingers from your skin, groping into the fat of your haunches with entitlement and want.
Voice getting gruffer as he gorges himself in your warmth like it’s his personal sanctuary, saying “I'm your first in everything. Your first kiss, your first fuck, your first time making a mess.”
“Don't be gross–” you cringe, but he pays it no mind.
Only continuing, “And I'll be your only one until you die—”
For the first time in a moment, you’re the one who laughs, “Tch—I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Tone mocking as you roll your eyes—he’s so full of himself it’s ridiculous.
His head lifts again, looking at you in dumb askance.
To which you just tilt your head slyly, talking to him like the great big man-child he is, “Oh, come on, Satoru. Are you forgetting what line of work you’re in? You could drop dead any day.” With a sneer, you cup his face in your hands in sardonic affection. “You really think I'll stick around to weep at your grave when you go?”
A groan rises from low in his chest. At first you think it’s a growl, feeling victorious about having angered him. But then he all but moans, “It makes me so fucking horny when you speak like that.”
Kneading your hips, he rubs his clothed bulge against you, messaging you both with the friction between his pants and your panties. Too busy touching you to unbuckle his belt.
His rust is only a heated whisper, kissing your cheek with tongue and teeth as he keeps going, “Knock up a whore, get a brat? I don't think so.”
He pops his collar, and wrings his jacket off quickly. Tossing it aside before bearing back over you.
“Though, it’s funny you think you’d even have the time to spare when you already have your hands full with me.”
Looking down at you with those crazed blue orbs—you wish he’d just keep that infernal blindfold on, the way you feel them strip you bare even with your clothes still halfway on.
“Sorry to disappoint, but I don't plan on dying anytime soon.”
Hands on his belt next, he makes quick work of it without taking his eyes off you and that annoyed little face of yours, thinking you’re stupid for ever believing he’d need, want or even be open to sharing it with anyone.
“Nah… it’ll just be you and me playing house all by ourselves. So you better get used to it.”
“scientists don’t want you know” is a phrase that always cracks me up because if you actually meet a scientist they will be shaking and crying like an overstimulated chihuahua with the need to let you know
Seven minutes in heaven, but it's you and another sub bound together tightly in a dark closet with a powerful vibrator tied between you. You can't do anything but make out, grind your bodies together, and cum your brains out all over each other, until you're so needy and dumb from all the forced orgasms that you don't even notice it's been a lot longer than seven minutes.
when i was a kid i decided that killing people was bad therefore war was bad therefore the military was evil. and adults would tell me it's more nuanced than that and i would understand when i grew up. well i'm a grown up now and idk i still think that killing people is bad and war is bad and the military is evil
when you accidentally back your ass up a little too much into his crotch and he gives your waist a quick squeeze, lowering his lips by your ear as he grumbles out a low “careful”
︵ ೀ mdni. satoru and suguru are losing their minds trying to fit inside you at the same time
it’s the first time you’ve all tried this, and the moment suguru starts pushing in alongside satoru, satoru lets out a shaky, breathless laugh.
“holy shit— this is so tight,” he whines, eyes squeezed shut, forehead pressed to your shoulder. his cock twitches hard as your pussy stretches around both of them, slick and burning. “i can feel you, suguru—oh my god, i can feel your dick rubbing against mine.”
“shut up,” suguru grits out, but his voice is weak, jaw clenched so tight the muscle jumps. he’s trying to stay calm, but the way your walls flutter and squeeze around them both is driving him insane. every tiny shift makes him feel satoru’s cock sliding against his, hot and throbbing. “fuck… she’s taking us so well.”
you’re shaking between them, stuffed full, stretched to your limit. a broken moan spills from your lips and both men groan in unison.
satoru starts moving first—shallow, desperate little thrusts that make suguru curse under his breath. “slow down, you idiot— ahh, shit—” suguru’s hips jerk anyway, chasing the friction, the overwhelming heat. they’re both panting, sweat-slicked chests pressed to your body, hands gripping your thighs hard enough to bruise.
you’re still shaking from the two orgasms they pulled out of you earlier with their tongues, licking and sucking until you were sobbing and oversensitive. now every single nerve feels raw and electric. the stretch of both cocks at once is almost too much — too intense, too full, every tiny movement sending sparks shooting up your spine.
“she’s so fucking wet,” satoru gasps, half-laughing, half-moaning. “i’m gonna cum so fast, this is embarrassing—”
“me too,” suguru admits through gritted teeth, voice dropping into that low, dangerous tone. his hips snap harder, chasing the tight drag of your cunt and the filthy slide of satoru’s cock against his own. “can’t— can’t hold it.”
they start moving together, messy and uncoordinated, both of them whimpering and cursing every time they thrust in at the same time. the pressure is insane. the feeling of being pressed so tightly against each other inside you is too much.
satoru comes first with a loud moan, hips stuttering as he spills deep inside you. the moment his cock pulses, suguru follows right after—groaning long and low, burying himself to the hilt as he fills you too. they cum at the same time, thick and hot, both cocks twitching against each other while your pussy milks them dry.
they stay buried inside you, panting, trembling, foreheads pressed together above your shoulder.
satoru lets out a weak, almost delirious laugh.
“we’re doing that again… like… immediately.”
suguru just groans, still twitching. “shut up… but yeah.”
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