Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, DlLFS (and MlLFS too!), age gaps (reader and JJK men are ALWAYS aduIts), arranged marriages (Toji), cIan Ieader!Toji, sIight exhíbitíonism, sIight bóndage (Nanami), mentions of kids, bréeding, manhandIing, matíng presses, HEADLOCKS, p sIapping, p talking, spítting, fíngering, rings and píercings, rockstar!Geto, headIines, use of ‘mómmy’ (Ino), miIking, overstím, súgar dáddies, running from it, oIder men, síxty-níne, talking you through it, pressing down, making it fit, he’s BIG, counting inches, overworked Higuruma, creampíes, cúmpIay, sIight cúmfIation, pIot, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. MWAHAHAH.
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The Arrangement.
“O-oh, sh—”
“Shhhhh.” Toji’s voice is dangerous. Low. His chin was hooked into the crook of your neck - and you’re getting pushed back down, down, dooooown his-
“Oh my…” Your mouth waters, weak arm reaching out to grasp the edge of the futon.
But Toji’s guiding it to his shaggy salt-and-pepper hair. Making you tug. Making you wrench.
His other palm - calloused after what you assume to be countless years of training his Heavenly Restriction - comes up to plaster over your mouth. “Unless ya want them to hear.” He mutters, referring to the council of elders seated behind the sliding doors.
You knew it was part of the ceremony: to make sure that you and the older clan leader…affirmed your new union.
An arranged marriage, of course. The marriage of the century in jujutsu society’s highest circles.
But even after a lavish wedding, and an even more lavish title suited to you, you still couldn’t believe that you were married to Zenin Toji.
Perhaps expected considering that the two of you had met just a few weeks ago; you’d announced to your council that you were ready for marriage. And they’d then presented you with a list of all the potential candidates for husband—every eligible bachelor from the Kamo clan to the rather obscure Fujiwara clan. The list had gone on and on with their names and ages.
And at the very end you’d spotted—
Zenin Toji—Age: 38 (once divorced).
As soon as the elders had noticed you focusing on that one name, they’d dismissed you with a nervous chuckle. “Oh, that’s just Toji. Ignore him, he’s just there out of obligation-”
“But why would I ignore him?”And that had effectively shut them up.
Although what you really wanted were more answers.
Toji.
Toji.
Most of the other candidates ranged across their twenties, and they were names you’d heard of in mere passing during those stuffy clan functions. Toji, however, was beyond that age range and once divorced—and you’d heard of him almost too well. You knew him without ever knowing him.
You’d heard of the newly-appointed Zenin clan leader as he fought against every single elder to claim his rightful title as head - the first one since…ever without a speck of cursed energy.
You’d heard of the terror of the Zenin clan - or so they whispered - who could bring down battalions with a single swipe of his cursed weapons. He didn’t need cursed energy—and what they feared above all was the power of raw humanity underneath it.
But…you’d also heard of the merciful man. The first Zenin clan leader to grant his wife a divorce when she wished for it, thus leaving him printed once more upon a paper listing jujutsu society’s bachelors.
Leaving him impressioned in your mind.
Zenin Toji was an enigma you wanted to understand.
And you laughed at the expressions upon your elders’ faces as you announced that the sole candidate you were interested in was none other than the notorious Toji. You could count on one hand how many had readily agreed to your union with the older man—and that would be exactly zero fingers.
However, the meeting had proceeded as tradition dictated. Your council of elders reached out to the uptight council of the Zenins - and they’d reached out to re-confirm thrice that the man you were really looking for was Toji. Wasn’t he much older? Wasn’t he fearsome? Wasn’t he difficult to understand?
You waved off their worries and met him over a fragrant tea ceremony.
To be quite honest; there wasn’t much talking between the two of you - although the Zenin elders kept up a constant stream of chatter with the elders of your own family. Meanwhile you simply looked at Toji over the rim of your ceramic cup—and—watched—
And he met your gaze just as intensely.
By the end of the tea ceremony, you nudged your elders to proclaim your approval for a union.
And Toji nodded his own approval.
The wedding preparations were accomplished in a week. It was a wedding for the history books - you heard that your council of elders were pushing to get it written in already - and it ended off with a lavish banquet that lasted into the long, long hours of the night.
As sunlight started seeping into the horizon, you and Toji got up from your seats at the head of the table. And you made your way to the master bedroom—where rows upon rows of elders sat outside in preparation for the consummation.
They were here to hear you-
“Fuck.” You can’t stop the sudden whimper that escapes you at the feeling of Toji hiking up one of his muscular thighs. He still had his wedding robes on - dishevelled upon his frame, the graze of expensive Zenin cotton n’ silk makes you shiver—
And as soon as you do, you feel one of his large palms settle at the base of your spine.
Toji keeps you pinned down - deliciously helpless - once he reaches that upright leg forwards and rests his heel atop your scalp. Stepping on your sweaty crown. Keeping you pinned in one place as he fucks you- with a sheer audacity that makes your jaw drop.
“Careful.” Toji’s low tone trundles out. You’re bent into such a shape that it makes his cock thicker- stretchin’ out your snug channel with a sultry squeeeelch! “Keep your mouth open like that and you’ll catch flies.”
Leaning down as far as he could, he then spits.
“Or you’ll catch me.”
A few more vicious strokes that leave you gaping.
A few more changing angles- Toji was the type to not just straightly thrust. He was stirring his cock ‘round in somewhat circular motions of his hips as he pummeled inside, managing to hit eeeeevery single nerve-ended spot inside you. “And- hah, and we wouldn’t wanna explain that to those old toads, heh?” Asking you. And then…not you. “Isn’t that right, fuckers?”
There’s restless murmuring from outside.
“W-well, maybe if you—fuuuuuck.” Just as soon as you’re mid-sentence - as though Toji had been waiting for this exact moment - he reaches forwards and slams! his ruddied tip into you hard enough that you can feel him in your damn throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”
“Loud.” Scoffing. “Though I bet they already know what’s happening- hah.”
You were in utter shambles.
Toji’s cock was sensually curved towards the right - the perfect angle to spot those areas where you were most sensitive and stimulate them until you were crying. “Y-you’re so shameless—!”
With a roll of his forest-green eyes, the clan leader crouches his body further forwards and accelerates his pace. His heel pressing down even harder.
With this position he had you in, Toji couldn’t keep his palm glued to your drivelling maw anymore. And he was letting it aaaaaall out—the more n’ more pretty moans that were leaving you, the more he’s speeding up his hips. Purposefully thumping his blushin’ red tip down your most precious spots.
And as if that wasn’t enough, he’s using his free hand to sift apart your stuffy pussy. Pressin’ aside your folds and getting a good eyeful of your entrance - getting flooded with his rock-hard inches, and then emptied out for him to do it all over again. And again. And again and again and—“And who was it that decided to marry me?”
You don’t know what’s hitting you harder: the shock of being called out, or the sudden wad of saliva that he’s spitting between your legs. “Well…me…”
Toji nods. “Pretty young thing like you…for what reason could you want to marry- me-” Every space between his words was punctured with a targeted strike to your g-spot. “Money? Name? Power?”
Your head’s getting foggy - you don’t even realize that you’re drooling before Toji looks down and tuts. He watches as a slick puddle formulates underneath you—“Did you wanna marry this ol’ clan leader for power, doll? S’that what you wanted?”
As much as you could, you’re shaking your head- difficult, given the way he still had the heel of his foot on you.
“No? Then what?” Toji pretends to think. “Hmmm, could it be that your clan elders pressured you into this, doll?” And just at that moment, he stops- even though it seems as if he wanted to say more. “I’ll kill you all if—”
It wasn’t targeted towards you.
But you’re vehemently denying—“No. No. Not at all…” Sobs and sultry moans strangle in your throat, and your poor, poor hips are driving back into his as much as you could. “Please- oh, I j-just wanted—”
“Let me think.” Now that he’d started his vigorous pace up again, your eardrums were crackling with the constant pap-pap-pap! of Toji’s toned hips hitting yours. He was just so large - in every possible way, it was as though he was engulfing you with his massive body, with his shaft stretchin’ out your insides in ways you’ve never experienced before. “Is it because- haaaaah…” Toji breathes, the cloud of his heated breath wafting down your arched spine. “Is it because you knew that those other- boys couldn’t fuck you as well as I could?”
Your jaw drops- “Fuck.”
But it seems that Toji had found his footing. He drags you even harder against him - the ramming of your two bodies almost violently shaking the flooring beneath. “Is it because you knew that- mmm, this pussy would always be satisfied with me?” Whatever little jostling you’re experiencing at his movements, he’s considering it a nod. “Is it because you’d been greedy? Because you’ve been yearning-”
Somehow, he’s tipping his head backwards and managing to perfect a stream of spit down onto your stuffed cunt.
“-for someone more mature. Someone that knows how to handle a pussy, doll?” Voice dipped in lust. “Have you been yearning for Zenin Toji to fuck you properly?”
“Y-yes—” You pitch out softly. Sniffling. Seeing stars behind your eyelids. “Toji, m’so close…”
“So cum, then?” He snickers, as though it should be the most obvious thing in the world. “What’re you waiting for? Permission?” Leaning back and projecting his voice - though, not for you. “Just so y’know, I’m gonna make my wife cum.”
“Oh-oh my god—” The words crackle in your throat as a final bash to your syrupy-sweet spot leaving you careening into your high. Stars of pleasure burst behind your shuttered lids - and you’re dragged through wave upon wave of white-hot bliss.
It overtakes you like nothing you’ve ever felt before.
And Toji was only more than happy to prolong them using his length. Hitting you right when your peaks were at their highest - and if you were in the right state, then you’d wonder how he even managed to time them - and making your veins feel molten within. Making you whimper and thrash into him. Thrashing and thrashing—fucked like you’ve never been before through your orgasm.
You’re so hazy afterwards that you barely even register the shuffling outside the bedroom - as the elders started making their way back to the banquet. Mission accomplished, you suppose.
And Toji takes his foot off your head.
“Haaaaah, fuck.” He hisses. “Want to give them an encore, my wife?”
You couldn’t nod faster.
Before you know it, he’s tipping his head back and calling out - at the elders—
“Get ready for an encore, fuckers.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Parent-teacher DATING?!
“Ms. Teacher…”
Itadori’s sweet, sweet voice breaks through your conversation with one of the parents; and you’re looking down to see him clasping one end of your flower-patterned apron. Pink brows furrowed. Chubby cheeks puffed. And how could anyone resist that face?
So throwing an apologetic smile at the parent, you’re leaning down slightly so that you could hear the little boy better. “Yes, Yuji?”
He cups a hand over his mouth then leans in towards your ear as if to whisper. “I have a secret to tell you.” And he does not whisper.
Still, you bite back a giggle and ask. “Oh, really? How exciting. Do I get to know that secret, Yuji?”
He nods.
Then leans in once more-
“My papa has a big, big crush on y-”
“Yuji—!”
You didn’t have to look up to see that it was none other than Nanami Kento, Itadori’s father, pushing past a few gossiping parents and kids playing jumprope- heading in your direction. He quickly clasps Itadori’s arm and gently tugs the boy away, “I am so, so sorry—I have no idea what’s gotten into him-” Nanami pinches the top of his nosebridge with a sigh. “He seems to have gotten it into his head that I have f-feelings for you, and…”
You watch, almost astounded, as the ever-stoic Nanami’s ears burn bright red.
“A-and I sincerely apologize if he made you uncomfortable in any way-”
“Oh, no.” You’re raising your hands up and fervently shaking your head. “He didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. Did you, Yuji?”
“Yup!” Those tufts of pink hair atop his head bounce as he nods as well, beaming - happy to see that you were on his side, at the very least. He then turns back to Nanami. “I didn’t make Ms. Teacher uncomfortable, papa. I just told her what you told me-”
“Sunshine…” Nanami grumbles, though with less panic in his voice this time.
And you’re biting back a smile as you look between the handsome father and his son; it’d been two years since Nanami had adopted Itadori, according to what the man had told you when he’d first enrolled the boy in Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary. Since then, you’ve had the privilege of watching over the father-son duo as they become closer, as they found family in one another, as they opened themselves up to both the school and you.
And although you knew you shouldn’t have favorites as a teacher - you can’t deny that one of the best parts of your day was seeing the two.
Yes, the two.
It didn’t quite help that Nanami Kento was the talk amongst the single ladies and men at pick-up. Tall. Tender. With his broad shoulders and his blond hair—always slicked back, not even a single strand out of line.
Nanami was the type of man to hold doors open for students, other parents, and teachers alike - he’d happily stand there for half an hour as an entire grade passed by, if he had to.
Nanami was the type of man to not worry about what anyone thought of him as he let his energetic son paste stickers all over him, or use the play make-up he’d snagged from Kugisaki.
Nanami was the type of man to buy you a large bouquet of roses for Teacher’s Day- roses. And he’d apologized for at least fifteen minutes about not meaning any sort of innuendo, and he’d completely understand if you didn’t want to take them—you’d cut him off then n’ there by taking them with a gracious thank you. Even if others at pick-up shot you knowing smiles.
So could you blame yourself if you happened to form a crush on the man?
And hearing what Itadori had to say about it now…
“I wouldn’t mind, y’know.” You speak once you’d ushered Itadori to play with some of his friends—Fushiguro and Kugisaki had just been dropped off. And Nanami was still standing next to you, watching as his son scampered off after causing perhaps the most chaos he’s ever experienced in his life.
But ah…your voice was low enough that it couldn’t be heard by anyone around you two. Perhaps not even Nanami himself- but of course, he heard.
Of course, he heard.
He turns to you with widened eyes, “I uh…I- excuse me?”
You turn back to him with a grin, “How about coffee sometime this week?”
“I have a better plan.” As soon as the first bout of shyness wears off, he’s clearing his crackling throat and answering you. “How about dinner?”
.
.
.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuh-fuck.” Nanami wrenches between clenched teeth. His hot breath sticks against the side of your throat; and every single puff makes your skin erupt with perspiration.
Which worked for him—it just let the movements between your two ravenous bodies proceed even faster, slipperier, sloppier. Nanami has you pressed flat against his neat mattress, in a bedroom that was humble and meticulously organized - and with Itadori at Fushiguro’s for a sleepover, the two of you could let those ancient bedsprings creak as much as they liked.
Nanami could fuck you as hard as you liked.
He’s grinding that golden happy trail into your front; both palms pressed flatly atop your inner thighs to keep them open. To keep you stretched as faaaaar apart as you could go—because fuck- Nanami’s cock was thick enough that he had to pin you down n’ squeeeeeeze his inches inside as far as they could go.
Rubbin’ his prominent veins along your walls. Entire body tensing up whenever you clench-
“Fuuuuuuck.” With a heavy sigh, he’s letting his head tip backwards. And honestly—you don’t think you’d ever seen a more attractive sight.
You’ve always known that Nanami was ripped underneath those office button-ups of his - but this was damn-near Herculean. The way his shoulders were defined and pulled taut as they closed in on you, the way his chest was absolutely luscious—you almost wanted to take a bite. And you’d guessed that with energetic Itadori as a son, he hadn’t had the time to hit the gym lately.
Because there was a layer of thickness over his muscles that left Nanami softer and stronger- the soft curve of his belly pushes down on your core.
Jostling your body back n’ forth with every honed thrust.
Banging at the back of your cervix and your throat- “Fuck. It feels so good, Kento.”
“S-soooooo fucking good.” And you wonder which one of you two was more gone on your syrupy cunt: you or him. Nanami struggles to keep his damn head up- collapsing into the crook of your neck and letting out botched groans- every single time his sensitive tip slid uuuuuup your channel into its deepest depths. He almost sounded as though he was in pain as he wept—“F-forgive me, darling.”
Perking your head off the plush pillows, “What for, Kento?”
“Well it’s just…” And his foggy glasses were still on his face - which Nanami pushes up his nose bridge. “I haven’t felt this good in—forever. So forgive me if I’m a little…”
And then he’s surging his hips forwards and giving you a good thwack! with the rounded end of his shaft. Enough to make stars appear in your vision-
“-rough.”
And then it’s like the floodgates have opened.
Because Nanami’s grip on you grows hard enough to leave fucking nail marks, his sweat splashes with the urgency of his movements. “And I wanted to f-fuck you all niiiiiice and slow like this pretty pussy deserves.” Those strong arms keep manhandling you open as he shovels straight into you. “W-wanted to show you that a mature man like me could- hngh, make you feel the best you’ve ever felt.”
“But I already do…” You huff out, arms thrown needily around his neck.
Yet Nanami doesn’t seem to hear—he doesn’t even seem to register. At least, the only acknowledgement that you get of your response is the way his body flinches ever-so-slightly at the mere sound of your voice. “And yet…” Those hazel-brown eyes of his widen as they run down your body, ultimately resting where your pussy was bloated all ‘round him. “And yet, one kiss of these pretty lips and I’m done for.”
“D-done for…” You repeat - mostly because you don’t know what else to do.
Don’t know what else you’re capable of doing other than wrapping your weak legs around his waist. Your hamstrings stretch and scream; and you’re sobbing yourself as his pace seems to accelerate.
“I can feel myself…” Nanami speaks through a watery mouth. “-getting fucking addicted—shit, like some hormonal punk. I should know better. A man my age…”
“Oh- oh, Kento.”
“I should know better- I should fucking know better.” He admonishes himself - though that doesn’t stop or even slow down the feral pap-pap-paps! of his pelvis hitting yours. Through scrunched-up eyes, he’s gazing upon you. “C-can’t believe you got some old man like me-” Despite your instant protests. “-to finally break.”
After a few more sudden strikes - almost animalistic - you’re managing to string together enough syllables. “But…I don’t mind, Kento.”
And that—that might just be the one thing that makes him falter. “Pardon?” He blinks up at you with glazed-over eyes.
Nodding, “I promise I don’t mind.” In fact, you’re tugging him in with a fistful of his blond strands between your fingers. “I- ngh! want you to go even harder…if you can-”
“Of course I can, my love.” The both of you are startled by his instant answer. “I-I mean, if you know that it means I might leave a few marks and—even more marks.” Perhaps most notably on your spongy cervix, welcoming his bashing thrusts.
But you don’t mind. Like you said.
You’re nodding even harder, “Yes, please.”
So polite. How could he ever refuse?
And in the blink of an eye, the blond-haired man leans over to clasp that patterned tie draped over his bedpost. It’d gotten thrown there sometime after the frenzy of getting home - quite convenient for when Nanami wanted to throw it loosely over his clammy neck and give you the other end to hold onto—
“Don’t be afraid to pull if it gets too much.” He puffs out at you in a breezy breath.
“Too much?” You ogle up at his handsome face. You half-jokingly wondered whether the bed - and perhaps you - would be in one piece by the time that Itadori gets home tomorrow. It was going to be a never-ending night…
“Mhm, because this is going to be rough, darling.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Controversy.
WHO IS ROCKSTAR HEARTTHROB GETO SUGURU’S GIRLFRIEND? HOW CAN WE BE HER?!
GOLD DIGGER?! BASSIST OF 6EYES SHUTS DOWN MALICIOUS RUMORS SURROUNDING BEAU: SAYS THEY ARE ‘BULLSHIT’.
DILF OFF THE MARKET: GETO SUGURU CONFIRMS RELATIONSHIP OF ‘YEARS’ HE SAYS.
Everyone knew of Geto Suguru. Or so it seemed when they were screaming his name and cursing yours—everyone wanted to be with him.
Or be him.
Who wouldn’t? Thick rings. Grey-black hair. Feline smile.
A 6’2, long-haired dreamboat that just-so-happened to be the bassist of the hottest rock band on the charts right now: 6Eyes. They’d been discovered quite early on - when they’d just been out of high school, actually - and had maintained a steady presence in the music scene ever since. Shattering record after record and filling stadium after stadium. By the time you’d gone with some of your college friends to one of their concerts, they were already titans in the industry—and you’d been an instant fan.
So imagine your surprise when your friend announced that one of the security had invited your group backstage.
That was the night you’d met Geto Suguru - you’d locked eyes and the both of you had just known.
You signed that NDA. You met for dates under disguises. And you’d even met his young adopted daughters- oh, you adored them.
Several months later, when TMZ or some other site had broken the story of Geto secretly dating a fan over ten years younger than him - and that was when scandal ensued. The fandom was rabid—and you understood.
Though Geto, who was rather used to biting headlines and speculation, told you that the whole thing would blow over soon enough- you holed up in your shared penthouse. You turned off your social media notification. You tried not to turn on any celebrity news channel.
And you decided: the very least you could do is make a good first impression…
“Easy now…easy there…” Geto holds the recorder in one hand n’ the side of your hips in his other. You’re maddeningly aware of both the rolling tape and the way his puckered, pretty tip is getting guided to your entrance—“Don’t strain yourself now. Trust Suguru.”
Just the very first inch of it slipping lusciously between your pussylips and easing inside.
Geto was always so thick, donning numerous veins that creep up the sides of his shaft in zig-zagging patterns. And the sheer girth of him intruding is enough to make you gasp-
“Mmm, that’s good.” The older man murmurs with a smile- long, greying hair forming a curtain around the two of you. “Let’s try again. A little louder this time.” Before he reels his hips back the mere inches he’s squeezed inside, and then rammin’ right back in again - it sounds the loudest squelch! as you’re taking even more of him. “Ohhhh, that’s good. Maybe I can use that as the outro, heh?”
“Maybe just use it for the entire ch-chorus.” You hiss.
“Trying to take my spotlight?” Geto leans down to kiss your swollen lips- or so you think. He’s pressing his pierced mouth against yours and gnawin’ down on your lower lip.
“Scared of- mmpf. Scared of being ousted by the young new talents?”
The edges of his lips curling upwards. “A rock veteran like me? Oh, I don’t think I have anything to be scared of…”
And you can only moan straight into his greedy, greedy maw as you’re jostled back and forth. Geto’s thrusts were oh-so-merciless and puncturing deeeeep into your womb—using the smooth Prince Albert’s piercing atop his flared tip, he’s torching every hidden spot and nerve-end inside. Mazin’ around your walls and pushing into those little ridges that just made your back arch into him-
His eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles.
“Hey hey-” The only thing snapping you out of your frenzy is Geto’s sharp tuts. He stalls your restless hips by hooking his fingers into your thighs and throwing them over his broad shoulders- dragging you back into him. “Don’t run away, gorgeous—the studio session’s not over yet.”
“I wasn’t running away.” You huff.
“Sure seemed like it to me.” He grins - that silver piercing of his glinting in the dim lighting. It was the type of Cheshire-cat grin that you knew wouldn’t bode well for you…and as soon as you’re thinking about it, Geto opens his sensual mouth and spits—straight between your lips.
The wad lands softly on your tongue.
And Geto himself reaches a second ringed hand up to close your jaw- to urge you to swallow. “Remember to keep those vocals hydrated, gorgeous. We’re getting to the good part now.”
You think you could gasp at the audacity—but what’s leaving you instead are a series of long, lewd moans. Mewls. Pleas.
He’s drawing them out over and over again by hiking your thighs up his shoulders and pressing you into a mean mating press- lunging his body down into yours. Crushing your pliable self underneath him. Slashing your cervix with loooooong thrusts and his ropey precum puddling sweetly at the back of your pussy.
“Yeah- yeah, louder now.” Pushing the recorder even closer. “Louder, girl.”
“I am—oh.” With the way he was fucking you like he almost hated you - though it was rather the opposite - your sentences warble with hiccups and gasps. The lines of his veins were somehow massaging the exact hidden spots that drove you wild.
“You got this.”
“Fuck-”
“Louder. S’just you and me.” This was exactly what he wanted to hear - his favorite melody was you. “Just a bit of chopping up n’ remixing- this is perfect. Gonna sound so fuckin’ pretty to my bass.”
“Fuh-feels so good-”
“Mhmmm, I know, gorgeous. Now let the listeners know.”
Making your noise pitch upwards in volume.
After a few more strokes, he bores down at you with a thoughtful expression. “Now…why don’tcha try calling me ‘Sugu’ for the recording?”
“You want me to be sappy? Okay, rockstar.” You’re unable to bite your tongue fast enough- though your snapping only makes him even more excited.
Amethyst eyes glistening. “Oh, don’t be a diva just yet, newbie.” The older musician brings the audio recorder closer to catch your every breath, “Trust me. I’ve been in this industry for a loooooong time- c’mon now. Listen to your- heh, vocal coach—say ‘Sugu’.”
How you loved riling him up just as much as he did to you. “Then give me something good to moan for, baby.”
“Don’t test my patience, superstar.”
Though he does as you say.
You should have expected it all the same; the rockstar had mapped out every single good spot inside you. And it was with a near-photographic memory that he’s inching his length backwards- until it was just his lavish red tip lickin’ up your entrance.
Just for a second…just for two…
Before slamming into your g-spot so hard n’ suddenly that you almost sob.
Making your cunt mold to the exact texture of his circular piercing- hitting your sensitive area first, before then pushing his smooth tip into it as well. You’re feeling every bit of him—and you’re making sure that your future audiences can hear it, too.
“S-Sugu—!” You’re thrashing in his arms- and he’s crashing and crashing his hips into you. Gluing the heated, stinging pink skin of his pelvis against yours so ferally that you can’t keep up with his pace no matter how fast you’re attempting to buck and bounce.
“Oh, that one’s going in the intro for sure.” He titters.
“S’fucking mean.” You whimper as he pushes down on your lower half - purposefully, so that his scruffy happy trail scratches your clit.
“Sugu knows best.” So sweetly, he kisses your forehead—and you wonder whether the loud smacking sound that he leaves behind is more for the recorder or to make you squirm. Shy, much? “Now how about I fuck you pregnant n’ we just announce the baby on the album?”
You pause for a second - before a smile twitches at your lips. “A rockstar baby? You read my mind.”
He reciprocates. “Always knew you were made f’me.”
The headlines were sure to love this.
♡ CHOSO KAMO - MY UNCLE’S GF?!
Someone had suggested playing two truths and a lie:
You weren’t a lot older than Choso- at least in his eyes. That didn’t matter to him.
Choso has always wanted you.
He’s over that now, though.
Choso’s palms are sweaty ‘round his lightweight beer as he utters the words; words just a little louder than he intended them to be. Maybe that was the pre-game finally kicking in—but he couldn’t blame it on that, either. Had it been called three truths and a lie, then Choso would have also confessed that he was stone-cold sober as he murmurs two of his deepest secrets to the little circle of drunk college kids.
And you.
You…you’re looking at him like you’d already guessed he’d say that.
Had he really been that obvious? Choso first met you three years ago, during his sophomore year in college, when he’d gone home for the holidays—and discovered that, this year, Sukuna had been dragged home, too. Except…his uncle hadn’t come alone this time.
He’d brought along- you.
You were the one to greet him at the door—and Choso remembers his breath catching in his chest. He remembers feeling his heart bang against his ribcage. He remembers his eyes widening- and his mouth gaping stupidly as you introduced yourself.
So caught up in you, he’d been forced to ask Sukuna for your name again-
“Back off.” His uncle had scoffed, crimson eyes narrowing. Honestly - Ryomen Sukuna was the only person alive that could make cotton candy-pink hair look intimidating. “Don’t think I don’t see the way yer looking at her.”
He’d probably stammered something intelligible-
“Look all ya want- if she feels uncomfortable, she’ll thump ya herself. But you can’t touch.” Sukuna set his beer bottle down. “M’actually serious about this one.”
And Choso could see why - you were the first person that Sukuna had ever brought into the Itadori family home. You were smart. You were funny. You weren’t afraid to put the pink-haired man in his place. You were fucking gorgeous—
And…you were Sukuna’s girlfriend. Ten years older than Choso.
Which is why - no matter how badly you made his heart flutter - Choso had vowed to never, never so much as even think to act upon his feelings for you.
He just had to grit his teeth and avoid prolonged conversation with you during every family function and gathering you attended with Sukuna- of which the man was making an appearance at every single one now. Almost as though to provoke him even more.
And Choso was forced to make peace with the fact that he’d never make peace with his feelings.
That is…until the two of you broke up.
He’d heard news about it just a few weeks ago, actually- his father had said something about Sukuna being down in the dumps after you’d broken up with him. Something about not making enough time and drifting apart—Choso hadn’t heard the details, he’d been too overwhelmed with the guilty glee that’d shot through his body and made his heart pound. And then just tonight - oh, how he wished he could kiss whoever was looking down at him (but no, that was saved for you…) - Choso just-so-happened to run into you at the bar he was attending with his friends.
So of course he had to invite you over to their table.
Of course, he had to ignore your protests about being older than them all. None of that shit mattered.
Of course, he had to sit right opposite you on the table and divulge his greatest secret - one he’d been keeping to himself for three years now.
You’re just opening your mouth to respond-
When Choso’s feeling a harsh smack! on his back and one of his friends crowing in his ear. “Atta boy! You never struck me as the type to like MILFs, man.”
“Technically I’m not a MILF yet.” You giggle, fixating your gaze upon him. He almost flinches. “But you’re right…I never thought you’d be the type to like older women. I’m ten years older than you, Choso, you know that right?”
Choso mumbles almost too quietly to hear. “Th-that doesn’t matter to me…”
“Yeah- and you’d probably like that ‘ma’am’ shit, eh?” His friend guffaws, making the now-bashful Choso - whatever courage he had liquified - duck his head. “Oh- sorry I didn’t mean—”
“No, no.” You dismiss the babbling college boy. “I’m not offended at all. In fact, you might be right.”
The table bursts into wolf whistles-
And it’s a blur until you’re ragging with the banter a little more - before discreetly excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Choso’s staring up at you - totally not admiring your back like some pathetic lovesick fool - before catching your gaze and your pointed wink.
And then he’s scrambling right after you. As discreetly as a sledgehammer.
.
.
.
Nose buried into the crook of your neck. Mouth gaped wide open- letting out the sweetest crackling moans into your skin.
Choso had you pushed against the bathroom stall - clean, don’t you worry - with his arms wrapped around your body n’ his cock shoved between your legs. Dragging in and out in a way that was so messy—he’s roverin’ around his globules of cum with that fat tip of his, and then reeling his hips rapidly backwards to spray it down your walls over and over.
He’d cum as soon as he’d put it inside.
And it wasn’t his fault.
Honest!
“Oh- oh.” And now he was panting desperate breath after breath between thrusts—“I’m sorry…the condom broke, baby.” Choso’s lower lip cutely trembles as he speaks. “Can’t help it. And then your pussy’s just so warm and welcoming a-and…”
His breath hitches as he hits that one gluttonous spot that makes you clench.
“-and I just- can’t- when you’re squeezing me like that.”
Basically hypnotized, Choso’s slender fingers dip down between your legs. And so swiftly - that you’re almost surprised at his nimbleness - he pulls out of your wet hole n’ clasps his hand around his barely-wrapped length. The rubber condom had been too tight around him, and it’d shattered into a million pieces—Choso looks up at you through his doe-like lashes, and waits until you’re nodding.
That’s when he’s wringing off his broken condom and squeezing out whatever wetness it held. Pushing out the cum back onto your pussy.
Making such a mess.
Those pure-white droplets that end up splattered back down on your pussy- warm and utterly unwholesome. A sinful cover. He wasn’t leaving a single ounce wasted. “Sh-shit.” Choso’s mouth gapes wide open. “It’s all your fault…”
Just the cutest trickle of saliva makes its way down his lips - and you’re reaching upwards to wipe it away. “Awwww. Ever done it raw before, Cho?”
After a brief bout of hesitation, he shakes his head.
“I’ve never done it before.” He confesses. Your eyes widen, so he was a virgin…
“Then are you sure you can handle it, baby? No need to push yourself if-”
“No.” He gasps. Sharp. Shot-through. It leaves his lips before he even knows what’s happening- and then you’re clenching again in a way that makes his brows twist together, and his fingers dig into your waist. “No, no, no, no-” Eyes frenzied. “We don’t have to stop f’me, baby. We don’t even have to slow down—”
Cum-coated; his thickened cock gets sandwiched between your lips then jerked back and forth a few times. By now he was so wet with slick n’ sap that it was making him slip a few times before he’s actually managing to get it in again—and that, too, with your help.
You reach down to help grip Choso’s raging-hot erection, and guide it inside your cunt: an action that leaves the other man blushing down to the roots of his hair. Even his tip throbs just a little harder—“Th-thank you, ma’am.”
Your brows raise in amusement- and it only hits him then. So he was into the ‘ma’am’ thing.
“I mean- baby.” He sounds so utterly ruined. “Thank you, baby. Promise I can handle it now, m’kay?”
And oh…you can’t deny that it was just so fun to tease him. “Hmmm…I dunno, Choso-”
Chocolate-brown bangs sticking to your skin, he’s lurching his face away to bore straight into your eyes. “I-is it because I’m younger?” He asks with a hint of desperation, and your lips part as your ex’s hot nephew keeps steamrolling away with his pussydrunken mouth. Poor, poor Choso. “Because I promise I can handle it. I can fuck you- ngh, the best. Promise m’gonna make you feel sooooo—”
Choso’s hips were hammerin’ away at a pace you’d never have suspected- and his hips end up crushed against yours. So close that the scruff of his happy trail scratches your clit raw.
“-g-good.” A single tear track runs down his face - you’re unsure whether he’s talking about you or himself.
“Easy there, tiger.” You’re pushing back on a stray lock of his hair- darker now with perspiration. The sweet gesture makes Choso huffs.
It wasn’t doing him any favors, however, as that only made him look even cuter. You’re craning your neck and planting a chaste peck on his bubblegum-pink lips—only for Choso to take control of the kiss and softly bite down on your bottom lip. “Baby-” He rasps. And with just how sweet Choso had always been to you, you could’ve almost forgotten how strong he was- how easily he could bounce you down on his cock- how needy he was for you. Feral. Even though you had him wrapped ‘round your finger, he was jostling your pussy’s inside like craaaazy. “Don’t do that. Don’t baby me- I need to be taken- ngh, s-seriously by you, m’kay?”
“Oh…” You’re letting out a heated breath as his tip empties out at your cervix.
And to prolong that sensation; Choso claws his hand up and pushes on the lower part of your stomach. Right beneath where your cunt was expanding and contracting with his cock. “Feel how big I am?” He doesn’t stop putting pressure on that spot until you’re nodding - “How hard? How much I’m leaking?” Just on cue, a splatter! of precum leaks between your pussylips.
And with something like a broken whimper- Choso snakes his fingers down to push the leakage back up your channel.
“O-oh—this pussy’s so fuckin’ wet. And I can handle it- I can handle it.” He utters more to himself. The more he’s speaking, the harder and longer he’s fucking you, the more ruined he sounds. “M’not as innocent as you think, baby.”
“Oh? Do tell.” You smile.
Such a gorgeous, gorgeous smile that he almost hesitates wiping away with a roll of his thumb - stimulating the nerves of your clit. But it makes you break out into the prettiest lewd expression that leaves him rutting his hips even harder, “Do you have any idea how fuh-fucking long I’ve waited for this? How badly I’ve wanted to- ngh, stuff my cock and fuck you like an animal?” As he trails off, he feels his stinging tip start to twitch even more wildly. Dangerously. “Fuck—”
“H-how long?” You’re asking with a smug smirk.
Choso’s blinking a few times just to let the question register- and finally muttering. “Even when you were dating- him. Ever since I first saw you…” And then he rubs his thumb at an even more steadied pace, matching it to the pushes of his spearing cock. “You were wearing that red dress of yours- hah, and I could see the strap of your pretty pink bra peaking out…the one with the bows on-”
That makes you gasp.
Which Choso takes advantage of to plaster his lips against yours n’ suckle on your tongue.
“And then-” Barely managing out through kisses- through stabs of his length- through the pleasure. “And then you called me ‘baby’ as you were getting ready to leave, and I- ngh, knew you were teasing me for being younger—fuck, I h-had to run to the bathroom just to jerk off.”
Rovering his mushroomy trip straight into your nerve-ended g-spot; you’re arching into his chest as you feel Choso lose his grip on his sanity.
Already having been so loose.
He’s babbling as he cums long and hard, and oh-so-deeeeeply into your cunt. Mouth ajar. Body collapsing against yours - caging you even further against the bathroom wall. “Baby- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”
“Shit, so much…” Just feeling the ribbons upon ribbons of creamy-white sap he was emptying out. Hot. hypnotizing. Every stroke managed to hit your best spots, and every push meant your pussy was getting overloaded with his cum. The inches of his shaft were curved just perfectly enough that he’s managing to slip aside your walls and use his tip to circle and circle those webs of cum at the very base of your pussy. All over.
Soon enough, you’re feeling a layer of it make its way down your inner-thighs—and Choso still didn’t seem like he was going to stop anytime soon. You moan, “H-how can you cum this much- mmpf.”
He captures your lips in another sloppy kiss. “Must be the stamina of a younger guy.”
“Choso you’re pussydrunk.” You’ve never heard him sound so drawling and dreamy.
“Hmmmm…” He’s nuzzling the crook of your neck, leaving bite marks that will be entirely too difficult to explain when you’re going back outside. “Did you cum? Promise I can- ngh, make you cum, too…” Grazing your skin with his lips.
“Prove it, then.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 6…9?
“It’s a fuckin’ pandemic, isn’t it?”
You’re looking at your boyfriend over the rim of your book, “Excuse me?”
Sukuna was seated on the armchair in the corner of your bedroom; just having finished a video call with his brother and his nephew. The bright chatter (at least from their end) had died down some minutes ago, and they’d bid your boyfriend goodnight—which was rather the same routine for these biweekly calls. Despite how much the two of you visited, Itadori Yuji always found it too hilarious to put strange filters on his grumpy uncle.
Except, tonight…Sukuna had sat in the armchair for a few minutes longer.
Usually; he would join you in bed.
Usually; he would grumble - though with a fond smile on his face - about whatever Yuji had been chattering about before.
He was practically an honorary father to the boy, and it always made you smile to see.
Usually; he wouldn’t look up at you as expressionless as if he’d seen a ghost- as if his soul had wafted away. And ask you about some…pandemic? Did Yuji put something in his head again?
At the confused expression on your face, Sukuna was heaving out a sigh—pushing up those glasses that were totally, most definitely not glasses and merely a tool he uses to…see…better up his handsome nosebridge. Sukuna was in his late thirties, and silver was beginning to tinge the edges of his pink hair, climbing up his temples. His crows’ feet creased as he frowned at you, “The…67 thing. It’s a pandemic.”
“67 thing?” You gape, your book plopping down on the bed.
“You heard me.” He scoffs. “I’ve been thinking it’s mass hysteria- every brat at his kindergarten keeps repeating it. But there seems to be no pattern or cohesion. I thought it was just those damn kindergarteners, but the other day I even caught Jin saying it-”
“S-six…seven…thing.” You’re repeating - for no reason other than to confirm to yourself that what you’re hearing was real.
Sukuna straightens in his chair, “See? Now it’s got you—”
“Kuna, like the meme?” You’re shaking your head, “The one from the song? Oh my god, it’s not mass hysteria-”
He crinkles his nose. “The hell is a…meme?”
“You don’t know what a—” How has he been Yuji - of all people’s - uncle but still had no idea? You continue, “It’s basically an Internet inside joke- it’s been over for a while now but the kids are still obsessed with it.” Finally gripping your book once more, you level him a look. “You didn’t seriously think it was mass hysteria, did you, Kuna?”
Sukuna crosses his bulky arms and looks away. “Tch—”
And when he catches you giggling, he barks-
“What?!”
“Oh- nothing.” And from the smile upon your lips - Sukuna knew that whatever was coming out of your mouth next wasn’t about to be anything sincere.
Which is why he’s raising himself off the sofa and climbing up the foot of your bed.
You continue, “It’s just you’re getting old, Kuna.”
Joking; nothing ever riled Ryomen Sukuna up more than teasing him for not understanding some new slang or lyric.
And with how much he riled you up sometimes—you had to get back at him somehow, alright?
Soon enough, he’s pinning you down to the bed - with his toned pelvis pressing down on your waist, and his arms creeping upwards to keep your wrists pushed against the mattress. “Say that shit again. I dare you.”
You’re leaning up as though to kiss him. “Old man.”
.
.
.
Sukuna’s tongue was zig-zagging wiiiiildly between your legs- striking the soft circle of your entrance and then swervin’ as deeply inside as it could go. Deeper. Deeper.
No matter how fervently his mouth was glued to your pussy.
No matter how ravenously.
His hips rut off the bed with every single lick—and that fat, throbbing tip of his kept shovelling n’ shovelling at a synchronized pace with his tongue.
He had you twisted in sixty-nine with your pussy latched onto his lips.
Sukuna’s own cock squeezing out heavy volumes of his salty precum near your lips, then promptly pushin’ them inside with his thrusts- Sukuna was so loooong and rock-hard that he was managing to swab across every spot and directly target the back of your throat. Playing with that dangly in the back.
You’re moaning as he squeezes two ringed-decorated fingers into your tight cunt. And he grins as he feels the vibrations—“Ah ah- s’rude to talk with your mouth full.”
Just then, Sukuna’s planting a smack! on your pussy that makes you pull off of his shaft with a loud pop! “H-hey…”
“What?” He trundles. Reaching his hips up and guiding his needy tip back into your mouth, “Speak.”
All because he knew that you’d attempt to nonetheless- and it would end up with the most lewd noises being muffled into this cock. It would end up with his eyes scrunching shut, his head throwing backwards at the shocks of pleasure. “Th-thought I told you to speak? Hah- not babble. Cock got your tongue or something?”
And…it would end up with you being all huffy n’ puffy. “That’s not even f-fair…”
“Heh- fair?” From where he’d been nipping at your clit, Sukuna pulls off - just to confirm he wasn’t hearing things. He wasn’t. And though you couldn’t see his expression from this angle, you could practically hear the amusement in his tone. “What happened to me being old, huh? You surely don’t need me to go easy on you.”
“I d-didn’t say that…” You’re stubbornly answering him - though the constant drives of his fingers were driving you absolutely mad. Sure.
“Good.” And then you’re feeling two more consecutive smack-smacks! atop your bloated folds. “Because, babydoll…m’barely even started.”
In no time, Sukuna has you manhandled so that your stomach’s against the soft bed. Your back’s against his thoroughly toned front - so incredibly strong; he was bulky—with a layer of thickness to him that made your skin tingle with want - and his erect cock placed between your legs. He takes a few moments to wetten your core up- because no matter how many times you’ve taken him, you think you’ll never get used to Sukuna’s sheer size.
And before long you’re clawing onto the headboard for dear life—as he damn-near molds your tender cunt to his size. Startin’ at the tip-top of his bloated shaft, and then bouncing you down- down- down so many inches greedily.
Utterly greedily.
“Oh- oh, fuuuuuck.” Hands shooting forwards to grab onto more of the mahogany frame.
But Sukuna stops you right then n’ there by wrapping his right arm around your neck; like a wreath, your pants are immediately cut off. And his muscles bulge as they tighten—the defined ridges of his biceps pushing against your throat - it’s sensual enough to make your mouth water…“And where’d you think you’re going, huh?”
“Nowher- mmpf.” Cut off immediately by the tightening of his muscled restraint.
“Lying’s not a good look, brat.” Then his second set of fingers snakes down to spank! your stuffed pussy- right atop your bloated folds. The shockwaves that run up your spine are enough to make you buck and whine—and enough to make him drag you back into him. Again and again. “Wasn’t stuffing this mouth earlier ‘nough to teach you a little lesson?”
So stubborn. “Not at all-”
He’s spitting straight between your lips.
And when Sukuna’s fucking you; it’s with harsh, pointed jabs - scouring deeeeep into the bottom of your pussy and leaving the mark of his cockhead. That rounded bruise you feel throb-throb-throbbin’ away every time he repeats the action—he fucks you like he hates you.
And he’s only growing faster, harder by the second.
Only tightening his headlock and wrenching your body back into his. Again and again.
Over and over.
Until the globes of your ass were stinging with impact, and you’ve memorized the pattern of his happy trail. It’s practically a part of you.
Sukuna’s rugged cock knew aaaaall the right spots. Making your pupils roll around in the whites of your eyes, and leaving you wondering just how he had this much stamina still…“Awww, c’mon now.” His low voice trundles in your ears. “Get your act together, girl. You don’t wanna be this cockdrunk for someone so old, huh?”
“I-I—”
“What was it you called me?” He growls, sharp canines nipping at the shells of your ears. “Huh? What was it you called me? See, this fossil ‘ere has some trouble…remembering-”
Every syllable of his was punctured by a thorough glide across the velvety channel of your pussy- “Ummm, then in that case, I didn’t say anything?” You try your luck.
“Nice try.” Sukuna grins. “But m’not that geriatric yet.”
Another spank. “Please-”
“What did you call me?”
“I-I just meant-”
And another. “What did you call me?”
“An…old man.” You feel embarrassed just letting the words slip between your lips.
You didn’t think he could get even rougher with his movements - his shaft was throbbing, and his pelvis was smack-smack-smacking into you. So hard that you’re propelled forwards by the sheer force; and Sukuna roughly lurches you back with his headlock. “I might be an old man- cheh. I might not know all these…damn Internet memes- but I do know how to fuck this pussy right.” To prove his point, he scours in-between your pussylips to squeeze your pretty clit. “Look at her- she’s in love with me.”
“O-oh—” Eyes fluttering shut.
“I know how to make her cry with pleasure. I know how to make her- mmmngh, squeeze like she doesn’t want me leavin’…heh.” He continues muttering into your ear as his hips grow more fervent. “I know how to make her feel so good—”
Your teeth grit. “Shit.” And you recognize the twisting sensation at the pit of your stomach. “K-Kuna, I’m gonna cum-”
“And even better.” He chuckles. Gnawing at the top of your ear shell, before moving down to bite the tender crook of your neck - like a wolf catching his prey. “I might not know those fuckin’- memes like the youngsters do. But I do know how to make this pussy- cum.”
“S-sooo close—don’t stop.” You’re bouncing n’ bouncing back into his pistoning hips.
Feeling the pleasure well up. Feeling your head start to spin a little as you near your high-
You’re crashing past your tipping point. And Sukuna gives you one, two, three good strokes to fuck you through the bursts of white-hot pleasure running through your veins - before he’s suddenly setting you free of his headlock and letting you drop straight into the plush pillows.
Reeling his damn cock out.
You don’t know what’s louder: your disappointed groan or his rough cackle.
“What? Wanted this old man to be nice in bed or something?” As soon as you’re looking over your shoulder, you’re met with Sukuna’s priggish grin—his sharp canines peaking out at the edges of his lower lip.
Grumpily, you nod. “Yes? What- can’t last or—oh.”
Another smack. “That’s not gonna work on me again- sorry, babydoll.” And before you know it, you’re being flipped right over - getting your legs thrown over his shoulders and pushed into the meanest mating press you’ve ever experienced. “Because m’not letting my bratty girl properly cum until I’ve had a good few rounds to blow off some steam. And m’sure you can keep up- heh, if not…”
“And um- how many rounds might that be exactly?”
Sukuna smirks. “67.”
“I hate you.”
♡ INO TAKUMA - “M-mommy!”
AITA for seducing the HOT rich MILF (40’sF) that I (23M) pool-clean for while her ex-husband and kids were away?! In my defense, she’s reeeeeally hot.
You freeze.
Ino freezes.
The world itself seems to freeze; all except for the ruby-red tip of Ino Takuma’s cock. Shoved deeeep inside your cunt - deep enough to leave a permanent bruise there - and throbbing away wildly—he’s cumming with that particular title escaping his lips.
And then his lower lip wobbles once- twice- before he ducks down and attempts to hide his face in his arms.
“Hey hey-” Swiftly, you reach down to push his hands away - you’d be disappointed not to see his pretty expressions as you fucked him even further. All pouty lips and doe-like eyes—Ino Takuma was so pretty, and perhaps that’s what drew you to the younger pool cleaner in the first place. “What’s the matter, Taku?”
“I-I didn’t mean to call you that- honest!” He stammers out.
To which you’re cocking your head with a sly smile- time to try something. “Call me what, Taku?”
“Y’know what it is…” Ino grumbles, huffing. And when you simply continue to stare at him in slight confusion, he’s rockin’ up into your wet cunt as he speaks- “The way I c-called you—mommy- oh.” Just as you’d predicted, his velvety length jolts at the mere utterance of that title. Excitedly spurting out a few creamy-white wads of cum that glue to your cervix.
So messy. He was so fucking messy.
How ironic, considering that his entire job was to clean your pool.
You’d been introduced to Ino through one of your friends - those networks of older rich women with far too much time and money on their hands. Juggling kids and businesses. And you’d just been complaining to them over a gold-flaked brunch that your last pool cleaner had moved towns, and with your kids now entering middle school, the pool was left without use and starting to gather leaves.
That’s when they’d shared Ino’s number with you—a reliable pool cleaner. Just graduated college, and so easy on the eyes if they did say so themselves…
You’d huffed that you’d tell their husbands- meanwhile you on the other hand had just recently gotten divorced. One too many nights of your husband coming home with a cloud of mysterious perfume around him, or a lipstick stain on his collar - at least you’d gotten a good chunk of everything in the divorce!
But that was all in the past- maybe love just wasn’t for you.
You had your kids. You had your gorgeous hillside mansion. You had your hobbies and friends- men just weren’t…for…
Fuck, that’s when he’d showed up at your door.
Bright and early. Beaming with all his gorgeous pearly whites; the sweetest smile on such a killer body. Ino showed up in nothing but an unbuttoned flowery shirt and swim trunks—their lightning-yellow color perfectly complemented his slightly-tanned skin and messy brown hair. Slightly tawny from the Sun.
“Er, I hope you don’t mind.” Ino had said, a sheepish smile on his face. “I thought I’d get changed for the job before I got here.”
Mind? Mind?!
In simply what world would you mind—it took every speck of reason and rationality in you to dart your eyes away from the plane of his chest, his washboard abs. Sultry shoulders. Slender waist. There was a scattered happy trail that ran between his six-pack and- beneath his swimming trunks.
Fuck.
Instead, you focused on the tight necklace of shells around Ino’s throat. “C-come in.”
On the first day, you stayed inside - only peeking out occasionally from your bedroom window - as Ino cleaned your pool. You tipped him heavily.
On the second day, he’d told you that it was completely okay with him even if you used the pool whilst he was cleaning—and you took that as your sign. You donned a bikini you hadn’t gotten the chance to use in years, and sprawled yourself out on the nearest sun bed - making occasional conversation with him almost as an excuse to ogle him.
And if you weren’t mistaken, you’d say that he ogled you too.
But you really did discover that Ino was a sweetheart- and made you giggle like a schoolgirl, too. How embarrassing you felt admitting this!
And a part of you was almost relieved when your kids arrived home from school - escorted by their driver - so you could resume your mundane lavishness. But a bigger part of you was already yearning for when you’d see him again…
And so continued the third day.
And the fourth day.
And so on to the fifth and the sixth.
Before you knew it, Ino had been employed as your pool-cleaner for at least a month—and he’d quickly grown to become someone you and your kids were quite fond of. Even your driver had caught on, and shot you a knowing smile every time you asked him to escort Ino back to his downtown apartment. Perhaps feeling jealous of such an occurrence, your ex-husband had showed up with tickets to an amusement park - already having planned a day trip for your kids.
They’d, of course, begged to go. And so you’d agreed.
Leaving nobody inside this vast mansion: but you, Ino, and the growing tension between you two.
The only thing was, right before he left, your ex-husband had the audacity to stop Ino and snipe at him. Low and threatening. “Touch her and I’ll make you very, very sorry.”
So, of course you’d fucked Ino as soon as they were out of the house.
Squeezing your robe-covered thighs ‘round his waist—just so perfectly curved to meet your embrace. “W-we really shouldn’t be…I mean- I’m old enough to be your-”
“Works just fine for me, pretty.” He’d cut you off. Pulling on the gauzy material of your robe to let your tits spill out- fuck, he was in heaven.
Enough so that it’d taken just putting it in for Ino to cover your luscious inside in his sap. To watch the satiny liquid seep between your pussylips and leave his pelvis gleaming with a sheen. To wrench out the most pathetic calls of your name—and one particular title that made him want to get swallowed up by the Earth.
Again and again.
Ino’s cock was longer than you’d expected - and all this time, you’d been wondering where the hell he’d been hiding all that in his swimming trunks. Just reaching over six pretty inches. Just smooooth and leaned ever-so-slightly towards the left. It’s making his bulbous tip drag across every sweet spot inside you, and your thighs quiver as you take him.
Every single inch. You’re arching your back and mustering up your strength to grind your hips forwards and back, forwards and back.
Milking him—
“C’mon, baby.” You’re cooing down at the handsome man. He blinks his teary eyes open- and you just can’t help but lean down n’ kiss them away from his cheeks. “Call me ‘mommy’ again?”
“C-can’t…” Ino blushes down to the roots of his chocolate-brown hair. “It’s embarrassing-”
“But it gets me so wet, Taku.” You pout—and his eyes widen at your admission. You watch as his pupils shift down- as if making sure. “Pleeeeeeeease? Just once?”
And in response, you smush your thighs harder around him. You’re sure you leave red, red welts on his skin - but that wasn’t registering in his mind right now. Nothing was. Nothing but the smooch of your soft velvety insides embracing his cock, and the sensation of cum sploshin’ around inside you. “Fine…but only because I wanna impress you…” His breath hitches. “-mommy.”
You shiver. “Oh, I liked that—”
And he does, too, because your cunt’s just suctioning on his length as if you were trying to take his soul. His fucking soul.
The thing is- Ino would have gladly given it to you at this moment.
“It feels good- it f-feels s-sooooo good.” Tears begin to crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and Ino’s fingers dig into the sides of your hips as he bucks upwards. “Fuck, it should be illegal for it to feel this good- mommy.” And he can’t fucking help it—it echoes before he can stop himself.
“Taku, I think you like saying that more than me.” With a soft chuckle, your dominant hand ends up wrapped around his throat. “C’mon now- a little faster for mommy.”
“Sh-shut—ngh.” No matter how hard he attempts to regain control- it doesn’t work. He pushes upwards into your soft, syrupy cervix as though marking it.
After a few desperate thrusts, he asks you- “Is this okay?”
“Hmmmm…” You pretend to think - and the ruined expression on his face is oh-so-completely worth it. “How about a biiiiit faster?”
His jaw drops- but he doesn’t complain. He’s grabbing onto either side of your thighs now, and plunging straight into your deepest depths—multiple thwacks! every second, it feels like. “H-how about-”
“Just a little faster.”
Doubting himself. “Is that even possible-”
“But you’d do it for- heh, me won’t you? You’d do it to make me feel good?”
Nodding and nodding. “Yes, mommy. A-anything for you mommy—” Broken moans and pleas cycle at the back of Ino’s throat, and he’s planted his feet flat on the mattress to push himself up ravenously. “M’just here for you to use me.”
Your eyes widen - your smile grows.
“Just use me-” He gasps, face reddening as he follows your instructions. “Fucking use me like a toy. Use me- fuh-fuuuck—”
“A liiiiiittle bit—” Your head tips backwards as he’s entering the perfect pace - rapid enough to leave your thoughts stupidly muddled, but still steady enough that you’re feeling every single ridge, vein, and curve. Giving your walls such a good massage—“Th-that’s perfect, Taku.” You squeeze his pretty neck tighter, and you’re hearing him let out a little hiccup of a sob. “Mommy’s so proud of you.”
Oh, and you thought that he was ruined enough already?
You thought that he was reaching his limits?
Because after that particular sentence - oh, you’re evil for that - Ino digs his digits into the flesh of your thighs and rams deep into your womb. His pistoning cock resting there for a brief few split-seconds as he sputters—“L-let me make you a mommy all over again.”
Your breath catches. “Do you even know what you’re asking for, Taku-”
“Fucking yes.” His glazed tip twitches dangerously in a way that told you he was oh-so-close to cumming again. Again. “Yes, please- fuuuuck, let me get you pregnant. Let me make you a mommy for the third time. I-I promise I’ll be the best- ngh, dad and nothing like that asshole. I’ll take care of you and cherish you and-”
You kiss him to shut him up.
“But of course, baby.” You hum. “But you have to be quick before my ex-husband finds out.”
He’s never cum harder in his life.
Verdict: NTA (drop the fucking tutorial, OP).
♡ GOJO SATORU - Sugar, sugar…
Gojo Satoru wasn’t technically a DILF - but he was a sugar daddy.
And they called you a gold digger.
Gojo called you business-savvy.
It was a rather unique situation: the relationship between the two of you had started out as a regular sugar daddy-sugar baby relation. You met Gojo Satoru at some stuffy ol’ business function when you were the arm candy of some other businessman—one who’d been ignoring you in favor of one of his business associates the entire night, of course.
Whatever.
You’d gotten used to this routine by now - and so you’d drifted by the grazing table with microscopic clean cuts and cheeses you couldn’t even pronounce.
And that was exactly how your knight-in-shining-suit had sidled up next to you.
With two champagne glasses in-hand and a flirtatious smile upon his face, he handed you one of the drinks. Then you gestured at the businessmen you’d arrived with- and Gojo had the audacity to roll his eyes and pretend to retch. That was when you knew you’d get along.
Tall. Toned. With twinkling blue eyes—and just the slightest bit of silver creeping into his already-white hair. Gojo Satoru was as handsome as he was rich—and considering that both aspects occupied a fair share of the conversations tonight, you were rather flattered to be in his presence. Though the CEO of Gojo Corporations didn’t waste time: “Y’know, if I was lucky enough to arrive with an angel- I’d never leave her sight. Why waste time with some geezers over such a gorgeous gal?”
You smiled.
And you left that night with Gojo instead.
From the boxes of jewelries and flights around the world - to the tabloids and online speculation that couldn’t get enough of you.
CEO of Gojo Corporations finally finds love?!
Gold digger or gold-hearted: All we know about Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend!
Is it sugar baby season? The newest IT Girl’s best red-carpet looks so far—
But of course, there was always some truth to those headlines. Perhaps.
You were Gojo Satoru’s sugar baby. You were in a transactional relationship- though he never laid a hand on you. Not unless you initiated it.
So…what was it really?
You got your answer a few months into this limbo of lust—the two of you finally started dating.
And to be quite honest; it wasn’t that big of a change at first. The two of you went out for romantic dinners either way. The two of you dodged paparazzi and rumors every step. The two of you bantered and teased as much as you did anyways- the only change would be that Gojo Satoru finally let loose when he fucked you.
Though, at times, he still did like to let his sugar daddy side peek through…
“A-awwww- just look at you.” Gojo’s hands were rubbin’ furiously down his length - from those curls of white cozily decorating his base, up to that poor, pretty tip that just wouldn’t stop cumming. Up and down. Up and down.
Salty-sweet heaps of cum were pouring out of his cockhead and splashing down your front- your stomach, your inner thighs, your cunt. He watches as it creates a little waterfall effect—and Gojo reaches down to pat your stuffed pussy with his long fingers. “No matter what pretty trinkets n’ expensive lingerie you wear- you always look the prettiest covered in my cum, sweetheart.”
“S-Satoru—” You’re squirming underneath him. Hands clasping the silken sheets.
Your fingers were decked-out in diamond rings. Your lacy lingerie was tugged n’ pulled aside for access.
Around you were bracelets upon necklaces upon every piece of jewelry that your heart could desire - Gojo had taken it upon himself to empty out Tokyo’s luxury stores earlier. All for you, of course.
All to drown you in—whilst he attempted to do the same with his fucking cum-
“I fuckin’ loooooove it when it covers you like this.” He hisses- nose scrunches in a feral way as he glides his fingers across those splatters. Those smears. That ruinous mess. His favorite was to see you like this: pull out game, who? You often scoffed whenever Gojo claimed that his was unmatched. “Love the way it looks like your pretty pussy can’t keep it in-” Just another light tap on your cunt. “Love the way it looks so pretty on your skin like this—mmm, you’ve got me obsessed, girl.”
Your thighs were shaky- but not shaky enough to stop you from attempting to pull him even closer. They’re wrapping around his waist, and careening him close ‘nough to kiss your puffy pussylips with his throbbing tip. His length doesn’t stop sensitively twitching for a single second—“O-oh…greedy for more, my girl?”
“More.” Just barely managing to wrangle out. “W-want some more—”
“Fuuuuck.” He whispers underneath his breath - something so ragged in his tone. That blushin’ tip of his was twitching in excitement already, and Gojo probably doesn’t even realize before he’s slotted his still-erect length between your legs and his rockin’ away at a slow pace. “You seriously want more?”
Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation of him intruding your hole- seemingly only growing bigger every time he feels you clenchin’ around nothing. So needy.
“Yes-” You’re nodding furiously. Perhaps had this been any other time, then you’d have been almost embarrassed at your unabashed eagerness. “B-but this time, I want it inside, Toru.”
“Inside?” Gojo’s pale brows fly to his hairline. “But you’re already stuffed so full, my sweetheart.”
And then he’s smearing his fingertips between your bloated folds- teasin’ them apart and taking a good look at your entrance. He can’t help himself - he’s spitting straight into that puckered hole—and watching at the glossy wad slips down your crevice and only adds to the mess he’s made previously. You’re shivering as he runs his nimble digits up n’ down your slit and presses on your clit.
“Yes, but—” You keen, arching into his firm core. “But you never really came inside, Toru.”
“Oh…” Those glossed lips of his part.
And you’re taking the opportunity to throw your arms weakly around him- “And I want it inside this time.” Though Gojo loved teasing you with his creamy-white sap—making you beg for it at times, he’s never properly cum inside.
He always thought it’d be too soon: you were younger, after all. And a pregnancy at this point might derail your plans-
“But I want it.” Had he been babbling this entire time? The sheer determination in your eyes sends a jolt of dark-black need through him - far more primal than he ever thought possible. Far more. Gojo’s blue peripherals glaze over as he clasps his cock even tighter, as though afraid he’s so hard now that it’d fucking fall off.
“Shouldn’t fall off now.” He whispers breathily.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Gojo quickly amends. Before he uses the pointed tip of his shaft to web up those dollops of cum he’d spurted ‘round your thighs and folds—it creates a gloss of white that he thinks would suit the insides of your pussy so well (did he mention that he was the one to pick out your lingerie colors?) ‘Round and ‘round.
It devises the most sinful sounds between your legs. And your breath catches in your throat: “A-are you gonna cum inside or not, Toru? Hurry-”
“So impatient.” He’s tutting. Voice low and husky. “I hope you know that if I fuck my cum inside—then m’gonna fuck you pregnant, sweetheart.”
Goosebumps scatter across your skin.
But Gojo doesn’t let you squirm, he doesn’t let you move about restlessly- he’s pinning you down with his hips and rumbling lowly in your ear. “M’gonna make sure it takes.” A rough sliiiiiide of his length sandwiched between your cushy pussylips - drooling for him by now. “M’gonna stuff you so full that you won’t even be able to walk—” Another rough slide. A thrust. “M’gonna give you the most precious gift of all - in my eyes.”
“P-please—!”
As you’re letting your head tip backwards, Gojo reaches his hand up to and clasps your gorgeous, gorgeous face. Smushing your cheeks together in a way that was so pathetic - “Are you okay with that, pretty baby?”
You’ve never heard him sound so serious.
And you’ve never yowled an affirmation faster in your entire life—
In the next few seconds, Gojo’s stuffed rawly all the way to the hilt and is messin’ up your insides with determined strokes. Once. Twice. Thrice- he punctures through your clingy walls and hits all the best spots - memorizing your g-spot and running his flared tip along it.
And honestly, it doesn’t take much - the two of you were already so overstimulated already - before you’re feeling the wave of euphoria start to build up in your stomach already. Almost as lewd of a sensation as the clear twitchin’ mess that Gojo and his length had turned into—babbling, gasping, sobbing as he runs his fat cock raw on your velvety walls. Fucking raw.
You were going to make him an actual DILF.
“Y-you’re gonna get it now…” It’s the last thing he’s getting out before a flood of white sap enters your tight cunt. Getting absolutely drenched from the inside. “When have I ever forgone you of a gift, my girl?”
“Never—” You’re keening out. Rushes of pleasure start up between your legs- before crackling through your veins and ultimately ending up at your brain.
Hazy and startling at the feeling of him fucking you through both your highs. Thrust after thrust. Gush after gush of both pleasure n’ his milky-white cum.
Underneath the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm; you can feel his spurts of cum start to trickle between your legs. It was just as warm as your skin was getting, and creating a little puddle beneath you that Gojo takes one looks at and gasps-
“Now now, are you wasting your gift, sweetheart—?” He cocks his head, genuinely ruined.
“N-no?”
“Or do I just have to- heh, regift it to you again?”
“Shut up.”
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Ms. Babysitter.
“We have to be quiet, angel- fuck. Fuck.” Higuruma’s voice sounded ragged—
Ruined. Nothing but carnal desire creeping up into the edges of his tone; giving you a jolt, considering that you’ve known the older man to be nothing but utterly calm and collected.
He was one of the best parents that you babysat for.
One of your college friends had recommended you for the job - the hot lawyer in your neighborhood needed someone to look after his young daughter whilst he worked long nights? You were agreeing before you’d even heard the hours, you can’t deny—and despite how hasty of a decision it had been, you thoroughly enjoyed working under Higuruma Hiromi.
And being under Higuruma Hiromi…though that didn’t come until a few weeks after you’d been employed.
The first night, you’d barely seen him. Dark hair. Dark circles.
The main thing you remember was that he looked exhausted—and some strange part of you was actually enticed by the hard-working man. Especially when he was such a gentleman…
Fuck, that suit fit him so well.
He addressed you oh-so-respectfully; unlike some parents who were tempted to treat you like a live-in server. Hands behind his back. Jet-black eyes to himself as he gave you a two-minute tour around the house- you’d been thoroughly enjoying yourself admiring his broad shoulders in that suit, when a sudden call from the office meant your tour had to be paused.
Higuruma had pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. He’d sighed.
And he was out that door before you could even confirm bedtime- which hadn’t been too much of a problem, to be honest. His daughter was extremely well-behaved and didn’t hesitate to let you know.
She also didn’t hesitate to let you know that her dad was very, very single.
You let her stay up just a liiittle past her bedtime.
And then the second night, he’d apologized for his hastiness - telling you that a recent case had them fighting to prepare before the court deadline, and there’d just been so many fucking tax audits to go through.
You nodded like you understood. But what really intrigued you was when he’d told you that his daughter had just loved having you over. Though a part of you was simply satisfied that you did your job well (buttered popcorn and K-pop Demon Hunters wins again!), you can’t deny that it made your heart…flutter hearing it from the older man like this.
It made you realize that you had a little crush.
So of course, you made him a regular.
And the pay was so good that you were able to weed out your other clients to focus predominantly on Higuruma and his bizarre babysitting schedule (some nights he worked until 3AM…)—you guessed the overtime was paying off.
Though your interactions were limited mostly to the brief conversations before and after- though you never did cross your boundaries. That all came to a head when one night - about a month or two into your babysitting gig - Higuruma suddenly perked up after a late night at the office. It was 3:31AM when he quietly let himself inside the house, sighing as he finally tugged off his tie.
It was 3:32AM by the time you got up off the couch and offered him some cookies you’d made with his daughter in the morning.
3:40AM when he suddenly remembered- and suggested resuming that house tour you didn’t get to finish. And though you’d been a bit hesitant—for nothing other than the fact that you might wake his sleeping daughter up, he promised that the two of you would be quiet.
Then, finally, 3:47AM when he was telling you to be quiet in bed-
“Wouldn’t wanna wake her up, hm?” The prominent outline of his nose runs down the side of your throat - and it makes you shiver. Fuck, you always have thought that that was one of the most handsome parts of him.
A soft moan strangles in your throat as he slots his thickened tip between your folds—feeling it like this, your mind’s reeling with the question of how the fuck he’s going to fit like this.
Higuruma always did strike you as the type of man to be big; but this was enough to make your mouth water and your eyes damn-near bulge out of your skull. From here, you were feeling at least seven or eight inches of his erection, furiously hot, wrapped in throbbing red veins and having the most luscious precum dripping out from top. He seemed hard enough to fucking ruin you - just how you wanted it.
And as if reading your mind, Higuruma runs his slippery wet tip down your pussylips, and trundles in his low tone. “Are you sure you want to do it? We don’t have to rush into anything if you don’t want-”
“I do.” Cutting him off mid-sentence.
Although by the way that Higuruma’s stern lips were quirking up ever-so-slightly—you’re taking it to mean that he didn’t exactly mind. He keeps one hand underneath your ass, so that you can be pushed up into his roverin’ hips, and his other one caresses your cheek softly. “Hm, is that so…? Then I guess what I meant to say is…can you take every single inch, sugar?”
You gulp. Your eyes dart down nervously to his twitchin’, throbbing length. “Yes.”
And you’ve never been more sure of anything.
Higuruma merely horses out - “Then buckle up, angel.”
Before you know it, his round, ruddied tip is probin’ inside. Sifting your gluey walls from side-to-side before spreading you up so maddeningly open.
He spots your sweet areas with a few dollops of pre- as soon as Higuruma found himself inside you, he was fighting back whimpers of pleasure. The older man’s achin’ cock doing all the talking for him as he shovels his way in—
“Sh-shit.” Your eyes sprint to the back of your head as you take him. “Shit, you’re so big-”
The way you’re moving your hips around as though confused whether to buck right down or make him ease up- it’s just so cute. And he plants a reassuring hand on the side of your waist, “Easy now.” Higuruma hushes out, “Eeeeeeasy, angel. You can take it for me.”
“Right there—” You keen out as his flared tip rubs along your g-spot.
And although he knows what you meant, that doesn’t stop Higuruma from throwing you a ravishing smirk. Letting his second hand run down your core- “No, sugar. Right here.” He pushes down right where he knew your womb would be - that soft pressure making your walls clench around him wildly, until you could feel every throb of his engorged tip even in your brain. “And you’re gonna take it f’me, right?”
Jostling you hard with every thrust—so that you’re nodding away. Almost pathetically.
“Mhm…exactly what I thought.” He coos - so lovingly thrusting away between your quiverin’ legs. Higuruma’s skin slap-slap-slaps against yours at a steady pace, “Just a few more inches now—keep quiet, please.”
“I’m t-trying.” Gnawing down on your lower lip. “How many more?”
“Ah, just one inch…two…” And after a prolonged thrust- so deep that you swear you’re feeling it in your throat, Higuruma cracks a grin. “Maybe more.”
Five more?
Five more?
And you were already on the verge of being fucked absolutely stupid? You’re letting a groan escape you—lewd and louder than you intended- and before the realization hits you, Higuruma himself swiftly reaches over to where his work tie had been dangling off the side of the bed. Bunching it up, shoving it between those pretty lips - he couldn’t have anyone waking up now, could he?
And that’s exactly what he’s telling you: “C’mon, angel…” Shoves getting deeper and longer. Rougher- as he rams his thickened inches past where you don’t think anyone’s ever gone before. And throughout it all, the older man was so steady with you—“C’mon- c’mon. You can do this—fuuuuuck, you can do this. This pussy’s gonna take all of me, right?”
Nodding and nodding.
“Yeah? Because you’re my goooood girl, right? Taking me so well.” He continues rasping - tone pitching higher and higher as he goes on. “My good- fucking- girl—”
“O-oh, fuck, fuck, fuck-”
“You’re my goooooood fucking girl, huh?” The stubs of his five o’ clock shadow rub up against your skin. The deeper he thrusts, the hotter his body seems to become on top of yours. More and more. “Can you count how many inches m’putting in you?”
Tears flow down your eyes, “Y-yes- mmpf.” Somehow managing past the tie. “Ah- four? Five. Six.”
Higuruma’s eyes widen.
“Seven—” Your voice seems like it’s on the verge of cracking. “Eight.”
It’s just too adorable how you’re sweetly attempting to respond to him even with the gag in. And Higuruma can’t help himself as he leans in and kisses you through the tie.
It’s hot and it’s messy.
And it ends up with him smiling against your stuffed lips, “Finally bottomed-out.”
Hazily, you’re blinking a few times. It clears your vision enough for you to jerk your head down and see that it was indeed true, Higuruma had stuffed himself inside your pussy until his thick base was kissin’ your pussylips. Just the most innocent peck.
“And now…” Except…fuck, except he was reeling right back again. “-for the fun part.”
Right back until that rounded tip stretched your hole out.
Right back inside-
“Makes me wanna put a baby in you- I swear. Taking me like this.”
Block me if u don't think Satoru moans like a bih during sex... His six eyes literally make him the most sensitive guy on earth come on he'd literally be CRYING
Just came on here to say that Toji WOULD be a NASTY dog and that he WOULD probably be into feet and armpits and spitting all that stuff.. Have a nice day.
Synopsis . You’re spending this fall season alone after your ex Satoru went and disappeared on you exactly one year ago around this time. After a long season of mourning, as you’re carving pumpkins and awaiting the nearing holiday, your ex in question returns... begging you to invite him inside for some reason.
Pairing . vampire!gojo x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, loooots of biting, slight corruption, yearning, angst with a happy ending, vampire au, confessions, tinge of fluff, blood sucking, mentions of vampire!geto & hinted vampire!sukuna, begging, rough/make-up sex, a rather feral gojo, satosugu implications, dirty talk, dry humping, needy sex, filth, spitting, he’s kinda pathetic, he cries when he cums, canon jjk references (heh), premature ejec, praise (he calls himself a good boy), edging, a series of apologies, breeding kink, creampie, oral sex (f!receiving), an insecure scarjo, orgasm denial, etc. / wc . 11.3k (I dont know wtf possessed me)
A/N: Has anyone watched iwtv? If so lmk if you catch my subtle reference to it in here ;) Banner from: "Infiltration! Agent on Edge." (Kinktober Masterlist.) [MDNI]
"Do vampires need permission to cum inside you?"
That's your Google search of the night as you sit at your kitchen counter, munching away on some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. You've got a pie in the oven and a recently carved pumpkin sitting a few inches away from you with a big ole' smile on its crafted face as you exhaust your free will via asking Google all sorts of questions.
What else were you supposed to do around this time of year to distract yourself from the fact that the love of your life literally disappeared on you exactly one year ago from today?
October was one of your favorite months to spend with Gojo and yet, he was still nowhere to be seen or heard from. The last thing you remember was him telling you he was going to buy some candy to prepare for the upcoming holiday and then... poof!
He never came back and you never heard from him again. Yes, you tried missing person reports and all sorts of things in that nature but, alas, no results.
Which brings you back to now as you sit here asking Google very important questions like, "Do vampires cum to the taste of blood?"
While that does sound like a strange thing to be typing into your search bar, it’s October—kinktober if you’re on the right side of the internet—these questions are of utmost importance! Last year, you did a search or two on werewolves and how they work…
Reeling back into the present though, your fingers are tapping away at the keys of your laptop, scrolling and clicking on all sorts of links to find your answer. These are the kinds of activities that keep you well distracted from just how lonely you’ve found yourself feeling lately.
The rest of your house is cold, lacking the warmth of another body, quiet in a way that’d make some people lose their minds, and almost eerily still in some parts. There are rooms you haven’t been inside of in months since those are the rooms Gojo used to frequent most often and you fear that if you walk inside them, the ghost of his charming and brightening presence would still be lingering.
Even sleeping in your bed is hard without him sometimes. It’s the same bed the two of you used to share, after all. The same bed he’s comforted you in with those big arms you swear you could still feel wrapped around you to this day. Everything about Gojo just… lingers around your house.
Sometimes you think you can still smell his cologne in the fabrics of just about everything, which is why you took it upon yourself to bake like crazy on nights like this—hoping that the scent of fresh cookies and pies would flush his scent out of your nose for good.
That only ever worked for so long though. As soon as everything got cold, you’d walk past the chair he’d claimed as his own and feel like you were literally passing his ghost again. You didn’t even know if he was dead and yet it felt like it.
You tried to get over it via distractions like tonight but—like everything else—that never lasted long, if even at all. He was always dancing around in the back of your mind. You’d even find yourself glancing over to your front door, hoping that one day he’d just appear. It was a pipe dream for you at this point, considering he’s been gone a whole year now.
The two of you had even been on the road to getting engaged. You unfortunately found that out when you were cleaning out your previously shared bedroom and stumbled upon a ring he oh-so-poorly hid beneath the bed in some box he thought you’d never get to. Now that? Oh, you were a mess when you found that ring.
It was by far the prettiest piece of jewelry you’d ever seen in your life. So pretty that you have it displayed on your nightstand now as some kind of ghastly reminder of what your life could have been if Gojo hadn’t gone missing.
Sometimes you wonder if he ran off with that best friend of his… Y’know, the one who you only saw at night and always seemed a little too close to your boyfriend? After all, it's not like you could locate him after Gojo’s disappearance either. Maybe they’d run off together.
That was one of the last things you told yourself before really trying to move on. Now your home was more of a mere house than a place of comfort. Every day felt like something was missing and you knew what it was but you continued to distract yourself. Gojo wasn’t coming back and you knew that.
Or at least, you thought you did.
——
About thirty minutes into your very intense Google searching, your oven chimes with a soft ding! that captures your attention, letting you know your pie is done.
You slip out of your chair and pace over to the appliance, soon opening it and taking your freshly baked delicacy out with oven mittened hands. The warmth seeps past the fabric against your palms before you place the desert onto your counter and something deep in your heart twinges at it.
Satoru loved sweets.
You hated that your only distraction from thinking about him did nothing but pound the memory of him right back into your mind. Sometimes, when your longing gets really bad—like now, for example—you could feel his presence against you.
The way his hands used to trail around your waist, squeezing whatever skin he could before hugging you from behind, and then muttering into your neck about how much he loved you was a burning memory for you. Followed by this was always him tipping your chin up and then pulling your face back to kiss you. The way he’d always smile against your lips still lingers to this day.
It’s been a year and yet all it took was taking one measly pie out of the oven for the tears to start welling up again. You should be over him now, truly. Yeah, you two were together for years but… you have to move on at some point, right?
The task seems impossible though. You’ve tried going on dates and meeting other people but none of them were him. No one talked to you like he did, teased you like he used to, barked out bright laughter and a series of giggles that’d fill up a room just as he did, and—most importantly—no one loved you like he did.
No one could love you the way Gojo did. It was impossible when he was the kinda man who’d give his life up if it meant saving you.
In came the waterworks as your own brain fucked you over. You snatched those mittens off your hands and flung them to the other side of the counter, your body leaning against its edge as droplets of sadness coated the clean surface below.
Just as quickly as you’d wipe them away, they came rushing back twice as hard—just like the fragments of your time with him did.
Your sobs end with you bunched up on the floor a few minutes later, hugging your knees tightly as your back pressed against one of your lower kitchen cabinets. The worst thing about Gojo’s disappearance was the fact that you didn’t know what happened to him.
You didn’t know if he was kidnapped, ran away, or even dead somewhere… Which left a burning hole of unknown in your heart that ached so thrummingly it’d make your chest cave in and leave you numb with a sense of nothingness.
Simply “missing” him was a severe understatement in regards to how you truly felt. His life had been far too entangled with what was once your own that without him, a necessary part of your very being was violently ripped away from you.
Silly Google searches kept your mind at bay for what, an hour or two? Then it was right back to the depressive air that’d made home in the space around your body.
Now you sit alone on your kitchen floor, craving the presence of someone who’d vanished out of your life.
At every waking hour of the day, everything reminded you of that man. Working, trips to the grocery store, the rare outings with your friends—who found it difficult to spend time with you these days since you were too wrapped in your mourning—and even simple things like watching movies or going on walks.
The distant sound of pattering rain could be heard against the windows of your home and that only fueled the mood swirling about the air. That, and it also leaves you to think about how Gojo would always make light of situations like this.
He’d tell you how beautiful the rain outside was and make you appreciate nature’s natural occurrences more than you ever would on your own. You specifically remember how both of you got each other sick because you’d stupidly run outside in the rain and goofed around together like two love-sick fools.
The following week after may have been filled with nasally sniffles and hoarse coughs but, you mostly remember the cuddles and the warmth that came with taking care of one another.
For the nth time in your life, you miss times like that so dearly.
It takes you a while to push yourself up from the floor and the only real reason you got up was because you’d heard a knock on your front door. You dragged yourself over to it and when you unlocked the door and pried it open slowly, you were met with nothing.
Nothing stood in front of you aside from increasing rain and distant thunder. Your eyes survey your front porch before you step out only halfway to make sure you haven’t received a late-night package or anything of the sort.
When you continue to find nothing there for you, a sigh fogs past your lips and then you enter your home again with a soft shut of your door.
You steadily return to your seat, the scent of baked goods still dotting your house’s atmosphere. The rain outside gradually grows heavier and heavier as the minutes drag on, the sound of agitated water beating against your windowpanes in unrhythmic waves.
The little candle you’ve got sitting inside your happily carved pumpkin glows and flickers its light faintly against your mostly clear kitchen counter—its softness a complete contrast to the way you were feeling now. While you lug your laptop closer, trying to dive back into those absurd searches, you end up making your way to Reddit and skimming over vampire biology.
It was kinda funny how you could go from balling your eyes out one moment and then reading shit about vampiric ejaculation the next. But you suppose that’s how a lot of your days have been; sobs one second and something to distract you the next.
Your mouse whirs around your screen for a moment before you hear a clean, gentle set of knocks against your front door again. This time you freeze, barely turning back to stare at the door. It wasn’t as hesitant or faint as the first few knocks had been but, perhaps you were too tangled in your sadness to realize the first time.
It takes you a minute to move. Your mind is still a mess but, you wonder if it’s one of your neighbors' kids messing with you again. After all, ever since Gojo disappeared, the kids who’d grown quite fond of him beforehand do try their best to stop by and check on you. There’d been nights like this all throughout October as well where they’d knock on your door and then run off as soon as you opened it.
You knew they meant no harm by it so it never angered you. Hell, this time they were probably trying to get some early Halloween candy…
Chuckling wearily, you rise from your chair—pulse thumping in your fingertips all weirdly from the flush of mixed emotions swirling around inside you—and make your way to the door. Due to your slow walking, there’s another set of knocking and you sense the impatience oozing off of whoever stood outside, as if they knew you were stalling or something…
You press on your best, fake smile, expecting three kids—Yuji, Nobora, and Megumi—to be standing on the other side of the door eager for some sweets. You had plenty of pie and cookies to share anyway so, them stopping by unexpectedly like this wouldn’t be so bad.
Hand on the doorknob, twisting and steadily pulling it open with your eyes fixated downward, “You guys know Halloween isn’t for another two weeks,” You start off playfully, noticing only one pair of feet below before you begin to crane your gaze upwards, “R-Right…?” Your voice dies out in your throat and the world feels as though it stops.
Your footing shifts back against the floor and your hand leaves the doorknob to come up over your mouth and conceal the gasp that’s stolen from your lungs.
There he was.
Standing soaking wet on your porch as if he’d only been gone a day or two instead of a year, hair a shaggier shade of white from the rain—moist strands clinging to his forehead—and face a soft-set expression of somber. Those familiar blue eyes you only ever knew as sparkling and radiant seemed wracked with guilt and shadows of regret.
Everything had felt so still in the moment. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe as you gaped all wide-eyed and unmoving at who-, or rather, what stood in front of you. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.
Surely someone was playing a trick on you. Perhaps some really fucked-up prank?
“S.. Satoru…?” His name, unuttered from your lips for oh so long prior to this moment, comes out as a cracked whine of syllables.
Your gaze doesn’t miss a beat, catching the way his throat adjusts to swallow something down, the same jaw you’d traced your fingertips over in the past now taut with tension. Then his lips part and a soft, “Hey,” works out of him, voice a tinge unlike the tone you remember fondly.
The single word has something inside your chest clenching.
Your top lashes are meeting your bottom ones with quick, uncontrollable flutters as your vision begins to blur all over again, this time too much to fight off. “You-,” Words choke in your throat and your head is shaking, “How are-, I thought you were…”
Making up for the words you can’t seem to say just yet, he creeps forward, just a little. “I know,” Gojo whispers tenderly, hand twitching at his sides to reach out for you. “I know, sweetheart. I–”
“D-Don’t call me that,” Everything was trembling; your voice, your hands, hell, even the clouds seemed to shudder with tears just as you were. Those words stung him just as much as they left your tongue with a harsh sting of reality.
That raw grief and anger that you’ve been harboring for months is consuming you entirely now, spilling into your words, “You disappeared!” You’re shouting, voice echoing out into the rainy night air. “No calls, no texts, no… no anything. Do you have any idea what that did to me? I thought-,” You catch yourself holding back on saying it for a moment but your sentiments get the better of you shortly after, “I thought you were fucking dead!”
Sarcasm presses against his lips as they distantly twitch, the gesture so faint you almost miss it. Even unspoken, you knew Gojo wanted to say how it was obvious he wasn’t dead seeing as he’s standing right in front of you, alive and well. You understood him better than he understood himself sometimes—even after a whole year—so what was unsaid still clung to your ears.
He steps forward again and you inch back, the heavy droplets of rain from his body wetting up your porch as he moves. It’s then that you notice how pale he is. Your porch lights catch him just right and your head tilts a bit, noticing the lack of warmth in his skin tone that felt… completely void of light or… as if the moon engraved itself into his very flesh.
And his eyes—having been darkened from just a few seconds ago—now seem to glint with something deeper and almost uncanny with a crystalline blue that shimmers beneath his white lashes.
Shaking off your overanalyzation of the man, you tell yourself it was nothing more than your grief playing tricks on your mind and making you see things that weren’t really there.
Your eyes were telling you that this was the same man you loved—Gojo Satoru—but somewhere deep in your tethered soul, you knew otherwise. A hallowed shell of the man you once knew couldn’t be standing before you or anything crazy like that, right?
That sounded ridiculous but even with a few words exchanged, something felt off.
“I-I know,” Gojo murmurs finally, gaze drooping down to the floor. Even angsty and wet, his tall frame still managed to tower over your very being in a way that was once endearing but now felt haunting. “And I’m sorry,” He continued slowly.
It was all so sooo sluggish. Every word dragged away from his mouth as if he were stretching each second out to make the rekindling moment with you last longer than it actually was.
He stumbles a bit closer and this time you don’t move back. Then his hand comes up to the frame of your door as his lanky body leans against it and his head flips up, hair flicking water all over the place before slicking back all messily. Then he weighs his head to the side in a way that has you… mesmerized?
Voice lowering into something coiled with desire, “Just… let me in, and I’ll explain everything,” He promises. Though, there’s a twang inside you that’s telling you not to make things that easy for him—not after the year of heartbreak you just endured.
Your brows pinch together, “What? Do you know how torturous this past year has been for me? How… How painful? A-And you think I’m just gonna let you waltz back into my house after a single apology and acknowledgement of your own faults?” You scoff, arms crossing under your chest and eyes rolling elsewhere. “Fuck that, and fuck you. I want an explanation now.”
A brief smile flickers over his unfairly angelic features, “You mean our house, right?” He asks half-jokingly, as if now was the time for such a thing. You could tell your claim over a home that you two once shared struck a nerve, seeing as he’d breezed over everything you just said for a second. Gojo’s forehead rests against the back of his hand a bit, “I’ll give you an explanation and more if you just let me in. C’mon baby, I.. I’m cold.” He says carefully.
Your tears have sunken into your skin by now, halfway dried up and replaced with heated frustration. “So was I for the past twelve months,” You spat, “Y’know, seeing as you abandoned me. If you want to come inside so badly, just–”
“Do you want me to beg?” He interrupts to offer, not waiting for a response. You stand there and watch the way his body gradually lowers and he slides down to his knees, now staring up at you with a gorgeous apologetic look in his eyes. All puppy-like and doleful, his gaze never leaves yours, “Please, let me in, sweetheart. Hah, I can’t explain everything while m’out here, it’s too cold—I’ll freeze to death.”
It was weirdly comforting to hear he still had his dramatic sense of humor despite ghosting you for a year…
Rolling your eyes again, “Gojo–”
He suddenly utters your name, all longingly like a prayer on his tongue. Then you feel a connection somewhere below, looking down to see he’s managed to pinch a fraction of your sweatpants in between his long fingers. “Please? I want to explain, I really do, but you’ve gotta let me inside first,” He insists with a slight tug.
You stumble forward, your body exiting the warmth of your home as you stand an inch past your doorframe. And before you could argue or send any more curses his way, he’s wrapping his arms around your legs and nuzzling his face into your thighs.
“I missed you,” Gojo has the nerve to utter so lovingly that it has your mind raging wars again. After which you feel his nails—that seem as though they haven’t been clipped in forever—slightly sinking into the back of your thighs to hold you closer to him. “Please let me come in,” He repeats like a broken record before looking up at you again, cheek mushed against your leg, “Let me come home.”
The way he says that almost makes you want to burst into another fit of tears but you don’t. You inhale sharply and steel your emotions before glancing off with glossy eyes.
Muttering something you hopefully won’t regret, “F-Fine.”
At the end of the day, he was the love of your life. You couldn’t deny him no matter how much you lied to yourself.
“Say it,” His tone is harsh like some sort of command and it makes you flinch slightly.
You’re confused but, you sigh anyway, “You… You can come inside, Gojo.”
You’d think your recent search history would’ve given you some insight as to why that may not have been the best idea….
——
After a slight groan exited his throat, you could barely register what was happening before he tightened his hold on you and then stood up, throwing your body over his shoulder as if you were weightless.
It’s not like Gojo couldn’t do such a thing before—he used to pick you up all the time—but something about this was a little too seamless. It was rather supernatural the way your body hauled up over his shoulder as he walked into the house and then kicked the door shut behind him with a slight slam.
Not that you questioned that either.
You were far too busy carousing in the fact that Gojo, your ex, had just walked into your house again. It felt different, especially with a million questions unanswered. But, something in you was on the path toward healing.
Gojo’s damp clothes brush against your skin and begin to wet you up slightly in the process of carrying you. Every step he takes only drips rainwater onto your floors and although you probably should, you don’t find room in your mind to care. His breathing is scarily quiet and evened, like having your weight on his shoulder truly did nothing to his body.
By the time he reaches your kitchen, the lingering thick scent of your pie hits his nostrils and brings that domestic comfort back into his body. The way he set you down on the counter and settles his body in between your legs to stand close and meet eyes with you is painfully familiar. You’d been in this position with the man thousands of times before, all for different reasons but always eye to eye with him no matter.
Gojo’s palms rest against the cool of the counter outside your thighs, keeping you caged by his imminent frame. He’s close, too close. You notice the way his eyes are searching your face as if to recommit every detail to memory whilst he struggles for where to begin.
“Gojo,” You hum, voice wavering with more exhaustion than fear or concern. “I didn’t let you in just to stare at me. Start talking—”
“First off,” Your ex cuts off rudely, eyes boring into yours hungrily. “Don’t treat me like a stranger. You know me. Say my name.” He commands.
You blink at him as the audacity of his words leaves your jaw tense. Scoffing in his face, “You’ve been gone for a year. Get over yourself. I’ll call you whatever the hell I want.”
He jeers under his breath, plush lips twisting up slightly in the same way you remember it to before an argument—something of which was pretty rare between you two, “Yeah? So that’s the game we’re playing here? You’re gonna sit here and pretend to be mad at me?”
A humorless laugh escapes you, “You really don’t think I’m mad at you?” You question rhetorically with a slight cock of your brow, “You were gone for a year, Gojo. A year.”
“And I said I’m sorry for that.” He replies blankly.
You couldn't believe his audacity, acting as if you owed him forgiveness. “Yeah, because that makes up for it—”
“Okay, okay, listen,” He sighs interruptingly, shoulders sagging, “I got into some… stuff.”
You hated how vague he was being, your brows knitting together and your voice pointed, “What kinda ‘stuff’? Don’t beat around the bush, just tell me.”
“It’s uh,” His hand lifts from the counter and meets the back of his neck to scratch, “It’s kinda hard to do that…”
This was driving you insane-, he was driving you insane. Gone for a year just to come back and do nothing but confuse you even more? The number of scoffs that’d left your lips by this point was almost concerning, yet expected. “Why?” You ask him, hoping he’ll stop dragging this out.
Unfortunately for you, Gojo can’t even help himself. His pupils travel your face—so full of hurt and perplexity—and he carefully takes in your every shift in expression. He’d watched your face change from sadness to anger, and now confusion in only a matter of ten to twenty minutes. And to top it all off? His body was betraying him.
He was anything but focused on the conversation at hand, his gaze dipping down to your neck and then your collarbone area. Fuck, his mouth was salivating before he could control it. Then his ears were thrumming, the sound of your blood flowing beneath your soft flesh ringing throughout his senses and dazing his brain.
Almost possessed, “I’m a bit distracted….” He tells you in a voice so light you almost miss it, like he hadn’t meant to say that aloud.
You narrow your eyes, “By what?”
Gojo leans down suddenly, so close that his breath ghosts your skin. His nose grazes your neck and your pulse stutters. “Your… scent,” He mutters, almost moaning the word. His voice is a pitch lower now, breathier, and you feel the heat of it sliding down your skin along with the drips of water from his body.
Your hands shoot up to his chest, the wet fabric cold beneath your palms, ready to push him away—but he doesn’t stop. You cling to his soaked shirt, a familiar care flashing in your mind as you consider escorting him back to the bedroom you used to share so he could change out of these rain-filled fabrics and avoid sickness.
Despite the cold water coating his body, his breath is warm against your neck while something starved rumbles at the center of his throat, “Fuck, I uh—hahh… I can’t really think about anything else…” He mumbles randomly before adding a faint, “God, you’re dizzying…”
You blink, “W-What? Gojo, what’s wrong with y—”
“Say my fucking name,” He grunts, voice pleading and raw all of a sudden. Then a whine laces in, and his teeth are sharpening, “Please?”
You hesitate. His back and forth between something commanding and something utterly desperate was gonna give you a headache sooner or later. “…Satoru,” His first name on your tongue has him purring like a stray cat before you thread your fingers into his wet hair and then force him to meet your gaze. The moment your eyes lock with one another, you flinch. The azure in his gaze were so unfocused and glassy, completely drunken with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. “Are you okay??” You finally ask.
He shakes his head no indistinctly, lips pulling into a soft pout, “M’thirsty, sweetheart. So goddamn thirsty…”
You blink, confused, and then snort with a half-smile forcing itself onto your features at his bizarre acts, “D-Do you want some water?”
Your voice was making his body throb. Every part of your lips and subtle adjustment of your figure only amplified the sound of your blood running beneath your veins and he felt like he was seconds away from either passing out or doing something he’d regret for the rest of his immortal life.
An actual whine threads out of his lips this time, completely broken as his eyelids seal shut like he’s in pain, “Shiiit, I shouldn’t’ve come here yet…”
Colored completely confused, you just stare. You hardly know what to say, much less what to do now, “Satoru, can you please tell me what’s going on with—”
“For fuck’s sake,” He snaps abruptly, and when his eyes open again, they’re impossibly hued with an inhumane glint, “I’m a vampire,” He finally, finally admits to you, “I’ve been gone for a year because I was turned, and if I immediately came back to you, I would’ve accidentally killed you trying to quench my insatiable thirst.”
His explanation hits you like a truck, leaving you frozen.
Your ex-boyfriend’s a vampire now? And he’s standing right in front of you after a year of avoiding you because he didn’t want to kill you?
Wait, more importantly…
You let him into your house not knowing this?
So much for all that research…
The air between you both is thickened all over again and his voice breaks out along with him slipping away from your hold on his hair, face sliding back down toward your neck again, “God, that’s so shitty of me, isn’t it?” Gojo whispers tenderly. “Leavin’ for a year and then coming back with that as an explanation…”
As he speaks, his head steadily angles against your neck and you find yourself instinctively making room for him. Your fingers still run through his hair like second nature and you notice how, despite him being quite soaked, there isn’t a single shiver exuding from his body.
Perhaps he wasn’t lying. He really was a vampire.
“You probably hate me now,” He’s murmuring still, lips on your skin now. Then they part and you feel his teeth graze you for half a second before he grunts and shuts his mouth. “…Shit, I-I’m sorry.” Even as his apology exits him, you feel his hands slide up so that his fingers could curl against your waist—claws digging into you.
To which you flinch and shoot a hand down to his wrist, “Fuck, Satoru, that hurts..” You wince softly.
He frowns at your neck, “M’sorry..” Then the other hand you’ve got in his hair grips tighter before you yank his head away from your neck. Gojo moans shamelessly at your aggressiveness and his eyes are low with the desire to please coating them. “W-Wait, wait,” He huffs, as if drawing him away from your neck would very well kill him any moment now. “I just… I need a taste, sweetheart.”
You’re staring at him blankly but something faint in your expression twitches. You were never good at refusing Gojo’s begging. That was always your weakness. Even more now that he looks as though he’d drop dead if he didn’t get some sort of nutrients on his tongue.
As you finally consider your recent research, you do know a bit more about vampires now than you did a couple hours ago. You know it’s difficult for them to communicate when their thirst is clawing at their insides and driving them insane. With that in mind, you couldn’t possibly expect to have a proper conversation with Gojo when he’s like this.
So, your grip on his hair finally loosens and you sigh, “Okay… What do you want me to do?”
His pupils dilate as your words hit his ears and there’s a twitch from his cock already. You were so perfect, just as perfect as he remembered you to be.
Treating this situation like a delicacy wrapped in some sort of blessing, Gojo’s careful with the way he draws his hands up and takes your face into his palms. He then leans forward and you blink as his lips touch your forehead—a motion of silent thanks before he redirects his touch to your waist and drags your body closer to the counter’s edge.
Your legs are nearly wrapped around him now but neither of you seems to care too much. Gojo hears the bumping of your heart growing faster as the distance lessens and the sound only makes his teeth ache to bare fangs. There’s a noise simpering somewhere deep in his throat but you can’t really make it out and you’re too distracted by how he makes his way to your neck.
Gracefully, he lifts a finger to your chin to tip it up and then angles it off so he has room. The chill that’s induced from his breath on your tense skin is prominent. He hasn’t even answered your question verbally and yet you felt beyond nervous.
He should be able to quench his thirst without harming you, right? He wouldn’t drain you completely, would he? What if it hurts too much? What if—
“I can hear your thoughts, you know,” Gojo says all of a sudden, the words felt at your neck. “I’d never ask to do something like this if I didn’t know what I was doing.”
You gulp. “…You can hear my thoughts?”
“Every last one is like a dreamt sonnet to my mind,” He voices thickly before wrapping his arms around you as if to keep your nerve-racked body steady against him. Then his tongue darts out and he laps over the area he plans to sink his sharpening fangs into, “No matter how insignificant… or remarkable, I cling to every word in that pretty head of yours.”
Before you can comment on his rather poetic way of saying he now possesses some type of telepathic ability, the warm spread of his lips followed by something honed is grazing your flesh. Your hands have found his shirt to clutch onto and that grasp grows tighter.
Gojo lets the two tips of his fangs prick your skin before he whispers, “This will only hurt for a moment, then you will feel pleasure. I promise.”
Your brows furrow. Pleasure? From getting blood sucked out of you? That doesn’t even sound righ—
His teeth pierce through your neck before you could even finish that thought of yours. Your eyes widen and you yelp out in pain whilst his hands soothe over your waist with gently rubbing thumbs as if to coax you through it.
The pain is rivaling something excruciating but because it’s him, because it’s someone you still believe to be the love of your life, it’s a sensation you can almost ignore. Not completely, of course. You could still feel the very structure of his fangs lodged past the layer of flesh on your neck so that blood could pour out past them and travel to his taste buds. The initial bite has you holding onto Gojo for dear life and you swear it lasts forever.
Then those fangs retract and you feel his mouth cup the area, a slosh of blood and saliva coating that part of your neck before his tongue laps out at you. The skin there is tender given the wound he’d just created but a strange noise slips out of you the moment he begins to suck.
It’s an eccentric sensation to feel someone suckling your blood into their mouth. The feeling can hardly be described at first outside of something strictly painful. But, just as he’d told you, pleasure soon follows like the calm after a wild storm. Perhaps it was because of how his tongue navigated around the open wound as if he’d mapped the region out time and time again.
And hey, technically speaking, he had mapped that area out thousands of times before this. Y’know, back when he was a human…
Reeling back into this moment, Gojo takes a while to quench his thirst and through every second you could feel your body responding in ways you weren’t quite expecting. You didn’t even realize you were coddling his head closer to your neck and where he was sucking until he groaned at the way your nails faintly scraped his scalp.
He tries to pull away for a moment to breathe but each time he does, a slim stream of your blood begins to trickle down and threatens to stain your shirt. To which he’d dive back in and lick the sweet flavor back onto his tongue.
When he was a freshly-turned vampire, he’d been told how the blood of a lover is sweeter than anything else on this earth and yet, he never quite expected it to be like this. “Mmnh,” Gojo moans unintentionally against you.
Every time he thought he was done, he just went right back in for more, beyond addicted to the thick liquid gushing out onto his tongue. The vampire only ever knew of one other thing to be sweeter than this.
But he hadn’t quite made his way down to that yet…
You think he’s satisfied his thirst at some point but you’re quickly distracted when you feel his lips traveling up, bloodied kisses decorating the side of your neck as he peppers them into your skin. One of his hands dives into his pocket—as if prepared for this—and he quickly pulls out a bandaid for the wound. Your grip on his hair steadily loosens and you should’ve said something about how he started kissing you as if he earned the right to do so but, instead your head is tipping back as he makes his way to your jaw.
The bandaid he pulled out is pressed over your open wound and his hands then find the thick of your hips so he can force your body to be completely flush with his. Right then, you gasp out into the air with the way his cock is felt poking up against your clothed cunt. There are multiple layers in between the two of you but that matters little with the way he starts marking your neck with dark love bites and grinding up against you.
Gojo solely plucks away from your throat for one thing and one thing only.
As his head flies up and your eyes meet his, neither of you spares the other a word nor do you think before you’re doing what’s so severely natural. You know you shouldn’t be giving into him this easily, you know you should still be yelling at him about how hurt you are but when his lips are slotting onto yours and his tongue is transferring the taste of your blood into your mouth—you can’t fathom a single thought outside of this moment.
Your face twists up at the metallic taste and he catches it, biting back a smile at your rather endearing reaction before pulling away—just barely—and clasping your chin in between his fingers to whisper, “It’s not as sweet for you, is it?” He whispers. You shake your head in response and he hums, “Figured… There’s an easy fix for that though, just spit in my mouth,” He breathes out suddenly.
Almost instantly, you’re taken out of whatever trance you’d just been stuck in and blink, “W-What?”
Gojo smiles faintly before letting his tongue lull out, “Cleanse me, sweetheart.”
As if possessed, you hardly know why you do just as he’s asked and let a thick droplet of your saliva coat his blood-stained tongue within the next second. Then you watch the way he swirls his tongue around in his mouth, as if the liquid from your mouth truly absolved the taste of your blood and replaced it with something even sweeter.
Not many seconds after that pass before your lips are colliding against one another again and your bodies are moving in unison—physically proving the deep and utterly natural craving you both harbored for one another. Everything is sensual and desperate. It’s a wet ‘n messy glide of need through the act of making out that collides oh so heavily. Gojo’s now clinging onto your hips again as if he were afraid he’d be snatched away from you again, his body unable to avoid creating more friction just to earn those pretty whines he’d missed so much.
And the moment you start moaning as if you missed him just as much as he missed you?
Oh, he can’t even control his own body before he’s scooping you back up into his arms and carrying you off into the living room, tossing you down gently on the couch. You try to gasp but he doesn’t even give you time to do that, his lips are crashing down into yours again and this time he’s got your thigh against his palm and is tugging your leg up to rest at his hip while he grinds down into you achingly.
“S-Satoru,” You’re attempting to pull him back into reality and remind him that you’re not his girlfriend anymore and that he still has a shit ton of explaining to do!
Groaning to let you know he heard that, “S’that so? You’re not my girlfriend anymore?” Gojo mumbles against your mouth, tongue still darting out to swipe over your bottom lip.
Your eyes are half-lidded and your body is hot all over, even with his wet clothing mashing against you and soaking you up. “It’s been a year,” You huff, “You can’t just show up at my house–”
“Our,” He corrects testingly yet again.
Rolling your eyes, “Whatever, our house, suck my blood, and then try to fuck me like you haven’t been gone,” You scold seriously with your hands at his chest, pushing his body up to create some sort of distance. “I don’t even know what happened to you yet-, or, how you became a vampire...”
“And yet you let me kiss you,” He points out. “We can get into the details later, sweets. Right now all I wanna do is—”
“You don’t get to leave me emotionally wrecked for a year and then come back into my life trying to fix it with your dick,” You say with finality.
That seems to strike the right nerve.
“Tch, fine,” He moves his hands to the bottom of his shirt and slowly lifts it up all slut-like to reveal his marred body, one thick painful-looking scar stretching out across his abdomen as if his body had once been split in half or something like that. “S’This what you want, huh?” He asks meanly, as if he was trying to hide the shame he felt from his tethered body beneath anger, “Want me to tell you how some seven foot, four-armed freak ripped me to shreds? How it was Suguru—who I know you never liked—that found me at the last inch of my life and then saved me?”
Your gaze trails down his figure and even though it’s clear by the aggression in his outburst that he’s ashamed of what he’s showing you, you can’t help but gawk at the man presented to you. Even with nasty battle scars all over his skin you still found him as attractive as ever—if not more so now than you did before.
You gulp and let out a soft scoff, “Jesus, Satoru…”
Then he flings his shirt across the room and his palms relax against the couch at the sides of your head, caging you under him, “Is that what you wanted to hear? Does that satisfy you?” Gojo asks in a voice threading onto something broken, “Or… do you also need to hear how I only stayed away for a year because I was too much of a coward to come back to you like this?”
When you finally meet eyes with him again, you notice his are coated with tears and the sight immediately makes your heart lurch in your chest as your expression falters. You couldn’t bear to see the love of your life looking at you as if he was wrapped in a disgusting cloud of something shameful and hideous. Gojo Satoru, of all people, looming over you now with a look on his face that said he was abashed to show himself to you like this.
Your hands instinctively shoot up to his face, cupping his cheeks into your palms and pulling him closer to you so that your thumbs could wipe his lower lashline where the fluid had welt up. It wasn’t water, no. It was yet another reminder that the man before you was no longer human as a reddened liquid pricked the corners of his eyes.
And yet, despite it all, he was still as beautiful as an angel before you.
The thought fluttering around in your head makes his lips twitch up into a saddened smile, “You can’t… You can’t yell at me, think such pretty things about me, and then expect me not to crave you the way I do.” He mutters.
Still wiping his bloody tears away, “And you can’t come home to me acting as though I wouldn’t have accepted you exactly as you are. I’m not mad that you’re a vampire, Satoru—you know that. I’m upset because you left me to think you were dead. I mourned you.”
“I know,” He whispers for the nth time, turning his face into your palm and kissing it delicately, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m unsure how many different ways I can say that but I mean it, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything.” Gojo expresses in that breathy voice of his. Then his gaze trails elsewhere, “I tried to, honestly. The first thing I wanted to do when I was turned was run back to you but… if I’d done that, I could’ve accidentally killed you. I had new powers I couldn’t control a-and… I can’t even begin to imagine a life without you, sweetheart. I only exist where you do.”
Your heart aches and his words are starting to feel like a cursed apology, “I…”
His hands come to your wrists for a second before he pulls his face out of your hold and leans all the way up.
In his mind, he’s cursing at himself for not coming home sooner. He’s been in control of his powers for months. Hell, he’s even been lingering outside the house on multiple occasions. All those times you felt as though his ghost was haunting you? He was actually there, somewhere off in the distance connecting with you via silent entries on your mind.
“If this is too much,” Gojo begins whilst looking off to the front door. He was going to do it again, run away and avoid facing you as he is. “I can leave. If you can’t handle or accept all this now then just say the word and I’ll—”
You cut him off sharply, your voice trembling through gritted teeth, and a hand of yours coming up to tug him back down to you, “Satoru, if you ever leave me again, I’ll drag you out into the sunlight and let your ashes decorate our lawn.”
“Well, shit… t-that’s a bit of an oxymoron, don’t you think?” He chuckles nervously in response. When he notices you find humor in that too, and your lips twitch to fight off a smile, his head tilts dotingly, “Did you miss me that much, sweetheart?”
You glare at him, “You can read my mind, you know the answer to that already.”
In reaction, Gojo eases his way down to you again and his mouth ghosts yours, “Does this mean I can kiss you again?”
“Just once more,” You lie so obviously through the same lips that are meeting him within the next second.
This time the connection is softened with all the desperation of two people who’ve been starving for a year. His body is slow to sandwich down against yours again and it’s as though the depressive weight on your shoulder was finally lifted again.
Gojo’s lips are tentative and loving now as opposed to the messy, desperate movements from before. His grunts are lighter at his throat and your tongues dance in and out of one another’s mouths in a familiar rhythm. You were finally feeling whole again.
Your other half had returned to you and although he was different and although the two of you should probably be taking this a lot slower than you were, one year without any sort of stimulation mixed with grief really does something to the human body.
You don’t even know when your legs wrapped around Gojo’s waist or when he started grinding his hard cock down against your clothed cunt again but you do know it feels better now than it did a few minutes ago. Perhaps it’s because most of the tears and heartfelt confessions were out of the way.
Or, maybe it was because the movement of his body against yours was something you accepted now.
Not that this means you won’t tease him in between kisses to cover up the worked-up noises at your throat. “I still hate you, y’know,” You’d whisper, though Gojo heard the baselessness in your words.
“Yeah?” He snickers, smiling softly against your lips before the shape of his cock pressed right up between your steadily drooling folds and slicked panties, “Want me to suck your clit as an apology next?” He offers.
You gasp at his crudeness, “Satoru!”
To which he only grins and tilts his head a little, eyes low on yours, “You’re laughing but m’serious…”
“I’m not letting you fuck me that easily…” Your hand readjusts across his chest and you push him away enough to look down at his scars again, “You just got back.”
Gojo groans and lets his eyes roll at your claims, “And we’ve so much lost time to make up for.” He protests, hand coming up over yours as he whorishly guides it down his chest, “Plus… I’m a lot stronger now.”
You cock a brow as your gaze flicks back and forth between the sharp abs against your palm and his gradually blushing expression, “So?”
A snarky grin spreads out across his rose tinted lips, “Don’t you wanna test out this new strength of mine? C’mon, you were just wondering how vampire bodies work and now you’ve got one right in front of you—willing to do anything to heal what he’s broken.”
You grit your teeth and he stops your hand right against his pelvis, letting your fingers tease the veins that trail down to the same cock rubbing against your cunt through many tiresome layers of clothes.
It doesn’t take much more for you to give in, “I hate it when you sweet talk me…”
“You love it,” He argues.
Your hand slips down all of a sudden—catching him off guard—and snags onto the waistline of his pants, fingertips teasing beneath the fabric. The sound of his breath hitching doesn’t go unnoticed and when you look up, you feel yourself throb at his reaction.
Gojo’s jaw has fallen open slightly and you see him fighting with his fangs as if to keep them at bay. They keep sharpening slightly and then retracting in tandem with his fluttering white lashes as if he were fighting his own lust.
Smirking, “Hey, Satoru…” The moment your voice hits his ears, you watch his fangs uncontrollably elongate in raw reaction to the sound. “Why do your teeth keep doing that?” You ask with faux innocence.
Gojo lets out a long and heavy breath of air before swiping his tongue over his teeth and clicking his tongue, “Think of it like a vampiric boner…”
You snort, “What? That’s a thing?”
“Obviously,” He replies sassily. “And I can’t even control it, every time you touch me, I—“
You purposefully start peeling his pants down to reveal more of his carved V-line to your greedy eyes and earn an aroused hiss from the man. It’s not until you pull the fabric down enough to expose a sliver of his needy cock that Gojo snatches your hand away and pins it up above your head.
Low and heavy, “...Is this your way of saying you’re ready to make up for lost time or what?” He sears, eyes glinting with a primal desire for you, who’s laid all too prettily beneath him.
A slip of drool decorates his bottom lip and his fangs seem almost sharper than they did before, bared with another low hiss exiting his throat as you answer him with one shy nod of your head.
———
And approximately six minutes later he’s in between your legs.
What can you say, you’re an easy woman when it comes to your ex-boyfriend Gojo. That, and it’s been a whole year since you’ve had sex! Do you know how crazy that drives a person?
Well, when your ex began kissing downwards and rubbing his thumbs greedily against your inner thighs before spreading them out, you just couldn’t help but give in entirely.
“Goddd, I missed my girl,” Gojo’s moaning now, “Look at her, just as sloppy ‘n wet as I remember. Mwah,” He presses a nasty kiss to your soaked pussy lips, a glistening mess of slick stringing in between the connection as he continues running his mouth. “Mmnh, did you miss me, baby? Yeah? Y’missed ‘Toru, didn’t you?”
Then he’s expertly tonguing his words deeper into your cunt as if to prove a point, the lathering licks from the pink muscle echoing all throughout the living room. You wanted to hate how easily you sprawled your legs out for him but, he was your boyfriend after all—at one point, anyway.
Plus, he’s unfairly good with his tongue.
Back arching up and mouth left agape, “S-Satoru… I hated when you-, mmgh! T-Talked to my pussy then, hah.. what makes you think I like it n-now?” You ask in between breathy moans.
There’s a constant thump from his hips as he humps his hard cock against the couch, aching for some type of friction again whilst he suckles your clit into his mouth with wanting fervor.
Sloppy and uncaring of how debauched he is, “I dunno, maybe the way she’s suckin’ my fingers in like the slutty girl I remember her to be,” Gojo husks out in that arousend ‘n raspy baritone of his before prying his mouth away and replacing it with two thrusting fingers that waste no time stimulating your g-spot, “Ain’t that right, pretty?” He snickers, watching your pussy gush out more aroused slick against his skin, “Ohhh, there’s the spot, huh? Yeah, I still remember.”
“P-Please shut up,” You moan as your eyes cross a little. You’ve got a hand flying down to his wrist as if to guide his fingers where you want them but your light grasp is futile since he seems to remember every tender spot inside your honeyed walls, “Fuck-, you’re so embarrassing…”
“You can’t say that while you’re cumming on my fingers,” Gojo points out as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Sad thing is, you didn't even realize the gluey mess that was quickly decorating his fingers in thick uncontrollable globs. “Kinda’ hypocritical if you ask me..” He adds with a cheeky smile on his face.
Then his two digits are hastily scissoring your insides to prepare you for what’s to come as he knows you haven’t been with anyone else since he’s left and although your insides are exactly as he remembers them to be, he almost feels as though you’re squeezing his fingers tighter than you ever have before.
And the way your gorgeous slick spurts out at his every word has him smiling way too proudly, “All that arguing and yelling ‘n yet all you needed was a couple of fingers to get you to act right again, huh?” Gojo says cockily.
You groan through gritted teeth as your soft walls clamp around him and your legs twitch to shut and run away from the pleasure you were receiving, “Y-You know, mmgh, damn well you’re the one who was actin’ wrong,” You argue back, hips steadily reeling away from him.
Scoffing at the cute attempt, Gojo quickly brings his other hand up to your hip and snags your body right back towards him as he dives his mouth back down against your clit and signs the letters of his name out around your clit in what feels like cursive. Drooling against the twitching bud profusely as if every drop of your taste was coaxing him towards something premature.
And it was, Gojo felt his plumped cockhead jumping in between his constant humps against the couch, smearing precum all over his boxers and leaving a sticky mess of need that he knew he’d probably be embarrassed about later. Especially since it only takes fingering you to one more orgasm for his own to come crashing over him like a tidal wave, creamy cum soiling his crotch awkwardly.
Then it gets worse because you notice, you see how his eyes gloss over and watch the way he starts crying at how blissfully good it feels—as if he’d been holding it in for a while prior to now. Broken mutters of, “Fuck that feels s’good,” Tiptoing past his slobbed lips before he plucks his fingers out of you.
You’re a mess yourself but he’s definitely far worse. Staring up at you with tear-stained cheeks, Gojo merely takes it a step further and lets you ogle the way he sucks your taste off of his fingers and rolls his eyes back in the midst of doing so.
After which he’s operating like a male beyond possessed and steered by his own lust. It’s been way too long since he’d been inside you and if you thought his cock would soften after one pathetic orgasm then you clearly underestimated a few things about him.
Now, sex with Gojo as a human was one thing in itself but sex with Gojo as a vampire makes you feel dirty.
Minutes later and he’s got his cum lathered dick sprung out and slapping against his abdomen, smearing his own mess against his skin whilst he takes one hand and uses it to pry your thighs apart again—his other set of fingers wrapping around his heavy girth and giving himself a couple of needed and lazy strokes.
His body was on fire and he felt as though if he didn’t stuff himself past the twitching spread of your pussylips any second now, he would die of a different kind of thirst that wasn’t exactly vampiric…
When he starts angling himself up against your cunt, mushroomy tip scribbling his milky seed against your folds, his fangs begin to sharpen again. “I missed you s-so fuckin’ much,” Gojo groaned as his cock finally began to slide past that stubborn ring of resistance he’s sure missed him just as much.
The way your glossy folds stretch around his blushing head is enough to make his eyes glint with that burning hunger of his again and—one more—you’ve never felt like a slut more than you did right now.
“Did you miss me? Huh? Tell me,” Gojo would whisper out. Of course, you can’t tell if that’s to you or pussy, who’s he’s busy caressing messy rubbings against as if that would ease how difficult it was to take him in. It felt as though he got even bigger than you remembered him to be and hell, maybe he did. “I need to hear it, please…”
You nod hurriedly and your body is itching to pull away for a moment to breathe, “Y-Yes, I missed you, Satoru… ohm-mygodd, I missed you s’muuch,” You whine out into the air convincingly enough to urge his hips into suddenly snapping forward.
The two of you choke out the same moan in sync and his head falls back, “Ohh f-fuuck,” Gojo voices hotly. Then he rolls his head so that his eyes could fall down on you and make sure you weren’t struggling to take his cock too badly, “Yeah, I missed you too… “ He coos, “Thought about you everyday, sweetheart...”
Between the breaths he was unintentionally fucking out of your lungs, you manage a breathess, “Did you? Or d-did you just think about… hahh-, fucking me?”
He smiles almost wickedly, “Both, my love.” Then he’s down against your ear in the next second, fangs grazing your skin, “I only dreamt of being inside you like this again. Hah, look at youuu.” He purrs whilst glancing down and watching the way his dick glides almost all the way out of you so unfairly gorgeously. Then, Gojo snickers, “Missed me s’much you won’t even let me go, how cute…” He comments, tip still poking against your entrance.
“Satoruuuu,” You begin to whine at the lack of him inside you and he doesn’t waste any time making it up by taking your legs into his hands.
“I hear you sweetheart, relaax. M’not pulling out, just wanna..” He palms the underside your thighs and pushes them up, up, up so that your legs are sandwiched snuggly to your chest, “Theree we go, now I can fuck this pussy properly,” He accentuated with a simple, yet brutal push into you again.
His long cock snags deep against the plush insides of your enveloping pussy and the way he’s got your body pinned to the couch and completely unable to lift or even move a muscle to escape his thrusting has your moans coming out in stammered breaths.
Gojo’s length is greedy ‘n one big, messy mess against your insides, hitting that spot to make you see streaks of blinding white stars in seconds. The constant slap of his heavy balls against your skin plows throughout the room and you were being stuffed to the brim with him up until you couldn’t even think about anything else.
The only time you get some type of break is when he hauls your left leg up and starts pumping his veiny girth at a new angle, his head turning and lips meeting your calf. Then Gojo starts licking the skin there, one leg wrapped around tightly as his hips hammer forward and your body jerks in tandem.
“J-Just one more taste, sweetheart. Please,” He whines suddenly, trailing his eyes over to your cockdrunken state, “I won’t make a mess this time, promise…”
You could hardly make out what he was saying considering how dumb he’d fucked you on his cock so, all you do is give him one messy nod of your head and the next thing you feel his im driving his fangs into your leg.
The pain is nowhere near excruciating this time. If anything it feels good, so good that you’re squirting around his shaft with that translucent liquid before you even realize it. Your moan is loud enough to fill every hallway of your house and Gojo’s losing his mind all the same.
Smiling into the wound he’s actively creating, “You’re so sweet,” He praises, his other hand moving from your thigh and over to where his cock is pumping in and out of you so that he can press down. “Fuckin’ delicious… Does that feel good, baby?” He asks in between his slovenly laps, ”A-Am I still makin’ my girl feel good, huh?”
“Y-Yes ‘Toru,” Your voice is hardly there but even if you’d thought those pretty words out, he would’ve reacted all the same.
Groaning, “Fuuck, I missed that nickname.” Then your gummy walls start squeezing around him again and he feels his cock trembling for release, “Aah, b-baby… m’gonna cum,” He whines honestly, “You feel too-, fuck, n-no.. you taste too good, I’m…” He finally stops sucking and lets himself gulp your blood down his throat, eyes widening in sheer bliss before he looks down at you carnally. Voice many pitches deeper, “Sweetheart, you gotta let me cum inside you.” Gojo huffs.
You finally break out a smile as your mind makes enough space to think about your searches from earlier in the night and your hand grips onto the couch a little tighter, “Mmgh, ahh… y-you need my permission to do that, huh?”
“Fuck, don’t tease,” He whines again, eyes glossing over again whilst his thrusts grow erratic, “P-Please don’t fuckin’ tease me… J-Just say I can… fuuuck… baby, please.. please?”
“You could always-, mmnh, pull out,” You giggle cockdrunkenly.
Gojo groans as if you just cursed at him and his hips snap forward with more vigor, fucking a drooling head of curses into you hard enough to have your vision numbed with stars again, “You really think I can-, hahh… go a year without bein’ inside this pussy and-, fuck.. not breed her when I get back?” He asks, mind barely even present in this conversation.
All he can think about at this point is filling you with his seed and fucking something dangerous into you. Perhaps if he’d done that a year ago, he would’ve never taken so long to return…
“S’toru,” You babble as drool trickles down to your chin and he starts repositioning slightly again.
“Let me cum inside,” Gojo huffs whilst folding you back into the meanest mating press, “Sweetheart, let me fuck my cum into you, please…” His voice cracks into something beyond submissive as his eyes fight a crossing, “I-I can’t… pleasepleaseplease—“
“Satoru!” You gasp out instead of saying what he wants to hear.
To which he takes a slightly different approach and comes up to your ear again, “I’ve been a good boy for you haven’t I?” He asks so abruptly that it catches you entirely off guard.
“W-What?” You stammer cutely.
“Reward me,” Gojo demands in return, leaning up just a little to look you dead in the eyes with want pouring out of their blued haze, “Let me breed this pussy again… I-I’ve earned it, yeah?” He questions adorably. To which you shake your head and his body shudders. Making him grumble, “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”
A smile breaks out across your face and you chuckle breathlessly, “I-I know..”
Gojo moves suddenly and his hands snake under your entire frame, grabbing at the fats of your ass before he steadies himself on the couch and starts pulling your body up to meet his bruising thrusts, the couch beginning to shake and even shake violently as he does so.
You’re a mess of drool and faint tears as he does that, the feeling of his thick cock prodding at the syrupy hilt of your pussy in a French-kissing manner has you gasping for air and clawing at his back hard enough to leave more scars. “‘Toru-, ohmygod,” You cry out, “O-Okay, fuuck.. you can cum inside me…”
“Uh-uh, you can say it better than that,” He opposes. You hate the way he always manages to get precisely what he wants out of you, “Tell me what I wanna hear, what exactly do you want me to do, huuh?”
“You’re s-so fuckin’… shit-, a-annoying,” You mumble before finally, finally giving in, “I want you to breed me, ‘Toru.”
“Thereee she is,” And then it’s instantaneous the way his cum flushes out into your cum, each drop fucked deeper and deeper into your tight cavern to make sure it takes. “Never gonna leave you again,” Gojo whispers lovingly to contrast the carnal movement of his hips whilst his cock thrashes against your womb.
Your fingernails are still lightly lodged into his back but you manage out one heavy breath of, “You better not…”
Which lets you know that, apparently, the random Reddit thread you scrolled through was wrong…
Vampires do, in fact, need permission to cum inside you after all!
the voicemail starts with a shaky laugh, then the drag of his breath against the receiver. “baby... fuck— you didn’t pick up...” a pause, and then it hits you— the slick, wet, unmistakable sound of his fist stroking up and down his hardened cock in slow rhythms.
satoru whines into the phone, a pathetic purr. it sounds messy and obscene, but nowhere near as mouthwatering as the real scene. the glide broken by soft squelches every time precum drips and he smears it down his shaft. “babyyyy...i saved your contact with a special ringtone so that I'll never let it go on voicemail, but you—hah—you’re so..” you hear him groan. you can imagine him sprawled out on your bed with his stiff cock in his hand, “you’re so mean, angel. ’m so hard it hurts” satoru thumbs his swollen tip, precum sticking to his knuckles. “been leaking all over just thinking about you— nngh, fuck, need you soooo bad”
you hear the crack of the mattress as he fucks up into his own fist, the sound his strokes quickening with every mewl that becomes more loud. “i’m squeezin’ it tight, the way your pussy strangles me when you’re about to come—f-fuck— baby, I can feel it, my hand’s not enough, it’s never enough without you”
you can hear the sharp slap, slap, slap as he jerks himself faster, palm meeting his stomach every time he pumps down to the base. slower, deeper strokes now, sticky skin dragging under his skin. “can you hear that, baby? that’s all for you. hear what you’re missing out on? just come home to me so I can fuck you senseless”
his strokes speed up again, the lewd rhythm louder, punctuated by the desperate slides of his fist and the occasional hiss of breath through his teeth, “fuck— ’m so close, ’m gonna come baby, want it to be inside you so bad...” satoru’s shameless urgency stirs a deep ache between your thighs. he’s being so loud on purpose and you can only imagine his state. he’s whining into the speaker, voice nothing but a vibrato of trembles paired with the rustling of sheets shifting with his movements. slick, sloppy strokes hastening more and more as he chases his release.
a loud and final sticky squelch paired with heavy breaths groaning through the line. your own breath is unknowingly matching his quivering one. a softer, ruined little laugh ends it, “mhm, baby, ’m such a mess without you. play this back when you miss me, yeah?”
i think a “follower cleanse” needs to be done even though i know very well that tumblr works differently and i can’t scroll and check every single one of my thousands of followers. so:
Knight!Nanami would be the type to take your name, let you be queen despite what any tradition might say because there’s no one better than you. He’d be the type that has to be taught not to pull out his sword at any minor threat thrown your way, the type to softly retire as soon as you’re pregnant—perhaps history’s first house-husband.
✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #672 )✅️
I am Shams from Gaza, 17 years old, a girl from a family of 7. I was in my first year of high school before the war. I loved my family, my s
I am Shams from Gaza, 17 years old, a girl from a family of 7. I was in my first year of high school before the war. I loved my family, my school, my friends, and life itself. But the war came and took everything I loved away.
The days have passed filled with loss and hunger. We no longer go to school—education has stopped, my school and home were bombed, and now my sister, her four daughters, and I all live in a single room.
We are struggling just to find a bite to eat, to have a roof that protects us from rain, rocket shrapnel, and the smell of gunpowder. Time passed, and I was supposed to take my final exams this year, but the war took away our right to education in every way.
We are facing the worst living conditions—insanely high prices for food, cleaning supplies, and medicine. We are displaced after losing our home. My father was injured while trying to find food; he suffers from a herniated disc in his back.
We are truly in need of help. Life here is almost impossible, and the conditions are extremely harsh. Please help me secure shelter, food, medical care, and at least a livable situation. A little from you can make a big difference.
Synopsis. An aIpha? Please, your arranged husband was the perfect gentleman - soft, strong, shy to even look your way and- and damn feraI when he’s in rút?
Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, secretly aIpha! Nanami, arranged marriage, OMÉGAVERSE AU, rúts, down bad Nanami, bréeding kínk, he’s FÉRAL, manhandIing, face-sítting (fem rec.), dúmbifícation, HEADLOCKS, making it fit, matíng presses, office s, breaking furniture, overstím, knots, matíng bites, cúmplay, very pússydrúnk Nanami, proposals, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 8.2k
A/N. BAD BOYS BRING HEAVEN TO YOUUU-
“Ijichi, I’m at the front desk- where’s everyone else?”
After marrying Nanami Kento, it wasn’t strange for you to become accustomed to visiting him at work - usually with one of your own business contracts, or a cute lil’ lunch for him and his bustling employees.
But what was strange was the hollow, empty company lobby that greets you today.
The reception, the cubicles, the elevator- you couldn’t find a single soul here other than you. Strange.
“...e-evacuated.”
“What?” You’re furrowing your brows at the static squeak of a reply from your phone, footsteps echoing like thunder down the familiar pathway to the head office. Hissing– “Why? Is Kento okay-”
“M-more than okay, ma’am.” Your husband’s personal assistant scrambles out urgently, “He’s actually ah- y-you’ll see what I mean…” As Ijichi rapidly ends the call with its beeping tone, your hands brush the looming steel doors of Nanami’s office.
What the hell did he mean? Fingers itching to just open–
And that’s when you smell it. Sweet.
Oh.
Oh…fuck.
The single, slivering waft of fragrance rams into you like five semi-trucks and leaves you reeling- needily grappling for the door handle when your knees knock together and weaken. Holding on for dear life, “Wh-what the…”
And there was your first mistake, accidentally - or perhaps subconsciously - stealing a deep, breathy inhale of the saturated air seeping from underneath Nanami’s looming office door.
It fills your lungs and makes you jolt. Makes you gasp at the fever of your body, drinking in even more, more, more—
Your tongue sizzles with a fresh syrupy layer of drool at the musky cologne of it, more heady than any other perfume you’d ever smelt. More expensive. Like the filthiest marriage between bourbon, underlying caramel, and something so-
-so Nanami. In…rut?
But wait, your hazy eyes widen, and you’re forced to shake your head clear enough to continue the thought. It was the smell of an alpha no matter how much you looked at it - this couldn’t be your husband, right?
Sure, you two had been married for a few months already - but the man hadn’t even kissed you let alone touched you to consummate the marriage, yet.
Hell, you still found his chiselled cheekbones tinting with a light veil of pretty red whenever you simply smiled at him.
Always adorning those scent patches to cover his pheromones, and never letting out a word of his secondary gender. Though, your husband always did make sure to tend to your every need during your heats - every need except those, that is.
Perhaps it was as unconventional of a marriage as could be - what with both your parents choosing to merge companies through familial bonds, but you didn’t know that Nanami was an alpha.
An alpha.
The words clang through your very bones and send sparks of electricity skittering down your spine, you’re squeezing your trembly thighs together only to find that they’d started dampening with a shiny sheen of slick already.
Oh- so this is why everyone in the company was hastily evacuated.
He was potent.
And he was aching for your touch– your skin hums with something sinful as you rap your knuckles on the door, and try not to utter a peep.
“Ijichi, I already told you to leave.”
That didn’t sound like your husband.
It sounded like anything but; a low, curdling growl of husky baritone that made your heart race stupidly fast. There was something so primal seeping into Nanami’s characteristically gentle voice - never raised, never sharpened at you.
But right now he sounded like he would’ve devoured you alive.
And you wanted to see it.
.
.
.
Nanami knew he shouldn’t be here- fuck, he shouldn’t have let it gone this far.
But one flutter of your lashes - just one gorgeous smile you’d sent his way this morning - and he found himself like this. Shit, he hadn’t even kissed you yet, and you already drove him wild.
One hand furiously pumping his rock- no, diamond-hard cock, the other digging into his drawer for more of those damn suppressants as if searching for a lifeline.
“C’mon.” He’s grunting, crumpled forehead beading with glittery sweat the longer his aching, swollen length throbbed in the clouded air. Looking through his unruly golden bangs, his sensory tips scour desperately, “C’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon-”
Only to pop one of the last prescription bottles open and find it fucking empty.
“Fuck!” Nanami’s throat decorates with a knot of veins as his plump, blushed tip leaks with yet another thick clump of precum. He needed you, and no amount of creeping his rugged palms up n’ down his girthy shaft would ever come close to how you might have done it.
How he dreams it.
Boiling hot ears popping as the fat of his thumb roams over his bawling divot to plug it up, he barely even hears the office door opening and slamming shut.
He loosens his tie and tries not to muddy his senses with the smell of the beta man, taking everything in Nanami to not just snap– “Ijichi- I f-fucking said-”
“Don’t even recognize your wife, Kento–?”
Nanami snaps his head up, eyes wide. Glazed.
And you think it takes him a full few seconds to register that it was actually you here and not some lecherous figment of his imagination.
Although you were starting to doubt that he was, too.
Such a sexy picture with his favorite blue shirt unbuttoned, pants unzipped just enough, one of his hands white-knuckling the glinting ‘CEO NANAMI’ table nameplate.
But what really drew your eyes was his massive cock - all hard n’ swollen and aching, the prettily rounded top cherry-pink. Right about nine or ten inches of bulky girth pulsing so hard that even you could see it from this distance.
Oh…he really did have big dick energy.
And he was drooling - drooling, you never thought you’d see the day where Nanami Kento drools - through great heaving gusts of gulps. His voice croaks out huskily as if disused for eons, “M-my love, why a-are you…”
Ah, it feels like your satiny blouse clings to you even tighter with Nanami’s rough tonality. And it takes everything in you to stop yourself from taking even a step closer like the betweens of your legs ached to, “Ken.”
“O-oh.” He’s immediately throwing his head back with a groan- and you don’t know where to ogle. The way his slightly plumpened lips drop with a drawled drag of your name, or the way that he’s lifting over a hand to cradle the globed top of his mushroom head to stop himself from cumming.
Failing.
His teeth gleam with slobber, ripping viciously into one of his forearms in an instant – hot crimson trickling out ever-so-slightly.
The attractive column Nanami’s throat bobs with the movements of his Adam’s apples as he simply pours out sultry streaks of cum. Creamy white stripes upon stripes that start dangling all the way from his sturdy wrist down to the puffy leather of his seat. Bucketloads, really.
And you find your mouth almost as wet as the sappy puddle leaking through his business suit, opening to-
“Don’t.” He’s rasping out, slouching his body forward to cover his adoring view of you - as if the mere sight of you would be enough to send him over the edge once more. Octaves higher, crazed. “Don’t s-say my name like that.”
Your goosebumps peek at the tremble in his bass, a strange thrill sprinting through your body. Experimentally, you’re exhaling out, “Ken.”
“Fuh-fuck.”
And through the cervices of his thick, wrapped digits, you’re catching the sight of that buttery mess of cum grow even more voluminous. Squeezing a few more filthy dredges out of him - truly from the way you said his name.
“You- you’re evil, darling.” He’s heaving out in strained syllables, body hunched over to pressurize his still-throbbing erection.
The cracked corner of Nanami’s dewy eyes hone in on you as you slowly - uncertainly - take a step closer. And ever-so-sensually, he cranes over to beckon you with one of his stray hands, “C’mere, my wife.”
Shit, you couldn’t make your way over fast enough.
And he’s snickering something gruff underneath his breath the few times you’re tripping over your own unsteady feet.
Your clammy palms eventually stick on either side of his plastic chair, and the towering man gladly manspreads to provide your hips with a place to rest on. Straddling his meaty thighs - that aching red cock between them - with your hands curling ‘round his perspired neck.
The scent of his pheromones were so thick here that it was leaving your mind pathetically dizzy, all expensive cologne and caramel sweetness for you.
“S’this okay?” He’s hissing through a snarling bite of his lower lip once your snug pencil skirt hikes up just enough to snaggle the globed curve of Nanami’s cockhead.
“Kento-” You decide to go easy on him just this once. Raising a hand to just start peeling that scent patch you usually had on during a workday, “-why don’t you let me help, baby–?”
One calloused hand comes to stop you right in your tracks, the flat of his doughy thumb coming to caress your wrist gently back n’ forth. And not only was Nanami burning hot - he was scalding, heat radiating off of him in waves. “Because…if I start now m’gonna hah- break you, my love.”
Oh.
Oh, fuck. So that was why - and looking into the molten peripherals of his stare, you’re realizing that that was why he’d avoided every kiss, every touch, every heat.
But seated and with him at your mercy like this, you hadn’t ever wanted anything more.
“What if…” You hum suggestively, bottom lip pouting out in a way that makes him collar drench with sweat. Pushing back with a roll of your hips that sets Nanami’s pearly whites on edge, murked breath drifting against his ears, “-I didn’t mind, Ken?”
And one of his hands has to clasp around the corner of his mahogany desk until it shatters, splinters of wood hitting the floor with a dull thud! thud! thud! that synchronizes with your heartbeat.
“Do- do you know what you’re asking?” He’s graveling out between pants.
“I do.”
And Nanami Kento will never know whether it was the way you’d echoed those two words directly from your wedding, or the way your gorgeous eyes shined with such need - but he’s never found himself moving faster. Swifter.
So feral when he’s slipping you off his lap and shoving you down onto the sleek, frigid surface of the desk in two precise flaps of your lashes.
“Oh–!” Your shocked lips let off sweetly once Nanami’s soft palm cushions your face, he didn’t let you feel a single ounce of the striking impact of being laid out all on your front.
Not a single thing except for the burn of your scent patch being pulled off of you with his sluggish fingers. Leaning down so his straight nosebridge hits the crook of your neck and sniffs– savoring—
“Fuck. Fuck.” Your husband spills out gutturally into your skin, and you feel the sharpened edges of his teeth coasting nibbles down your throat. He was pushed into you so close that he could practically taste your sweetly candied fragrance, “My wife…my omega–”
You’re thinking that he probably doesn’t even realize the way he’s rutting and rutting his hips repeatedly into yours, flinching bodily at even the slightest recoil that has Nanami’s curvaceous bulge breaking off even mere inches from your sodden panties.
The wailing whimpers escaping you are so adorable that he just can’t help but suckle his mouth down your own.
And it’s not the first kiss with Nanami that you might’ve expected - it’s sloppy, wet, and nothing more than the lazy drag of his unfastened mouth tasting like his favorite gummy. Slapping his tongue along the splattered speckles of saliva homing themselves near the edges of your lips, “So sweet- soooo much fuckin’ sweeter than I ngh- dreamt.”
Before you can ask what that meant, he’s humming along a few more wet slurps of French kisses. Leaving your lips tingling for more as he pecks down, down, down back to your swollen scent glands.
“Wanna know- why I- bought a candle that smells like- mmm honey, darlin’?” He’s whispering against that sensitive patch of skin, watching as your half-opened eyes dart to the inconspicuous candle that was always settled on top of his desk. “Because it reminded me of you-”
But Nanami wasn’t done- oh, he wasn’t done.
You could almost feel the intensity of his leering grin quivering up at the edges, your restlessly squirming hips being pinned down with his tense core.
“-and…” He’s letting his strained voice peter away into nothingness.
Biting down on the salivating insides of his cheeks, Nanami pushes his sagging glasses up to take a good, looong final look at the way you’re so prettily splayed out for him like this.
Before bending at the knees–
“-and her.”
You’re just about to ask your husband what he meant when he shows you exactly what he meant.
Diving in completely nose-deep to gift your clothed pussymound with a loving peck, the very tip of Nanami’s pert button nose shines with a beaded dollop of your slick. Slipping and travelling all down to where he glides his tongue along his lips greedily–
“K-Kento–” You hiccup out as his hypnotic scent grows twofold, the very hits of it targeting your very core.
“Oh.” Nanami moans at the feeling of you instinctively getting wetter ‘round his mouth, you were so sensitive for him that your saturated lips were already rendering your panties see-through. A sappy drivel of sweet, sweet juices slicking your thighs like glue, “Darling, you’re droolin’ e-everywhere.”
The very crown of his index comes to trace the snaking rivers of slick decorating your legs, sensually. Signing off the cutest hearts and ‘K’s where you were the most tender-
“S’this for me?” He’s tap-tap-tapping his generous digit on the folds of your leaking pussy, tittering when you jolt with every lurid contact. “Pretty girl, are ya this- hck! wet for me?”
Just then he leaves a full-handed, five-fingered spank straight down your slippery slit - ripping out the rawest, most moistened sluuuurp–! of gushing sap from your core. And Nanami takes this as the perfect answer, “Mhm, you are.”
“P-please, baby-”
“That’s it that’s it—” He’s nuzzling your thighs now - as if he was worshipping you. Scorched breezes of his mouth hitting you from just a few centimeters away, his glands rub up against your body and leave you completely smelling like his. You feel his drool smear as he babbles on, “-tell me. Talk to me.”
Your hips buck helplessly, “Want- want you to touch me there, Kento.”
“Where?” He knows- fuck, he knows. But he needs to hear the words directly from your beautiful mouth.
And ah, what a sight it is to be able to see them from up on his knees - twisting and puckering around the words of “Want you to touch my ngh- pussy-”
Barely out of your mouth, barely even formulated before Nanami surges up his humid face and snogs right up into your dripping cunt.
Mazing tip dragging away the flimsy, useless scrap of fabric you call your panties, he’s treating the pursed lips of your pussy like a lollipop. Skimming the ridges of his tastebuds riiiight along your slope and back, “So- so hot on my tongue- ngh. So sweet.”
It’s like a mantra he’s spitting out every time his pointed chin whacks the tippy-top base of your cunt, your neck flaring with rays of pheromones that make Nanami grunt.
Jaw unfastening, his mouth drips open with the gluey remnants of your sap. “Can you ngh- feel it?” Opened wide enough that you could feel his hot maw engulfing all of you - every ribbony ounce of slick that puddled at the back of his throat. “Feel me- hah, can’t fucking get enough.”
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck, Ken–” Your head dangles back, clawing towards the distant end of his table to hold onto your sanity. “-m-more.”
“More…m-more?”
Fuck- you didn’t realize that Nanami was this pussydrunk.
His husked baritone was lilting sooo much higher in volume and pitch that it made your head all fuzzy just to consider who this was.
Hell, the man has to nip his teeth ‘round a frilly edge of your underwear and bite so that he can keep it all together. Right palm creeping back down, down to his aching cock-
And the other one of his hands paws depravedly at the plush of your dampened thighs to keep them open, he huffs out a breath into your glossy fluttering lips. “More…my wife wants more.” And it hurt- ohhh, it hurt him so much to move himself even the tiniest distance away from where he was closest to your teary pussy.
Declaring a temporary goodbye with a prolonged sniff at the saccharine scent of your entrance, he’s craning his heavy head back up to you. “Spit.”
Your breath catches, inner omega crooning. “Wh-what?”
“Spit.” And before you know it, a hand darts out to smush your puffed cheeks easily together. The mean ovals of his sensory tips digging into your flesh, it’s enough to make you whine. “Spit in my mouth, my love.”
Slowly, stupidly you do - right smack-dab onto the wide plane of Nanami’s tongue and it makes him groan, hands squeezing ‘round his drenched base.
A thin line of it overspills from the side of his lips; and your husband’s crooning coaxingly at you to wrench open your slick-stucken legs further open before he gifts a steady wad of saliva over your sloppy hole.
Brushing his thumb over the lines of juices that stick to your panties, Nanami bites the edges of his glinting teeth into the side and riiiiips–! it off of you in a nanosecond.
“K-Ken, what are you- oh mmpf–!”
You’re mewling, pearly tears shattering your vision just as soon as his plump, velvety lips immediately latch to your clit and suck. The handsome hollows of his cheeks cushioning your sensitive bundle of nerves, it’s all it takes for you to throw your head back and clench.
“Open- need these legs hah- open-” He’s hissing into your cunt, the vibrations of his voice making your poor clit buzz. And shit, does Nanami enjoy the viscid globs of slick this makes you let out, pumping his vein-covered shaft angrily.
“Can’t–” Your moans were his favorite song, coloring the tips of his ears all innocently pink. “-can’t even feel my n-ngh legs!”
Cooing from down under, “Awww, need me to h-hold ‘em, my wife?” It’s only a few roaring heartbeats before you feel one of his palms shuffle underneath your knees to keep them pliably steady. Scuttling you further down his table- “S’alright, s’alright m’here.”
“K-Kento.”
“Tha’s riiiight, Kento’s here.” Suddenly your hit with a wave of relaxing pheromones once the very rounded berry tip of his digit comes rovering across your outer pussy. Collecting shimmering gumdrops of slick to plop into his mouth, “Kento’s here- so be a good girl n’ let your husband take care of it allll, darlin’.”
He’s swivelin’ the chilling band of his wedding ring around your rubbery hole, stretching and stretching until you’re gulping down every solid inch.
And if Nanami’s fingers were this long n’ girthy, it made your mouth water to think of how long he might be down there.
“Oh- you’re so g-good, can feel you in so so deep.”
Nearly five or six inches probing your gummy walls all the way down to his pointed knuckles, you hiccup every time his perfectly manicured fingernail scraped the mushy patch of your g-spot. “Please- please, baby- J-just a lil’ more.”
“Fuck! Gonna be the d-death of me…” His breath tickles the crevice of your bloated pussylips, the slimy fringe of his tongue wanders over with a last few rolls on top of your hooded clit. Sticking right where you were bulging with his barreling finger to bully dually inside, “Gonna- gonna.”
And he’s stretching you out with both his tongue and a second finger.
Pulling your soft hole taut around the circumference of both eager appendages, Nanami bustles just a few inches of his fingers inside before he curls them into the roof of your cunt and makes you yelp.
“S-so close—” Your words come out botched through tears and whines and your cunt, “Wan’ you to h-hit it- oh my god, please.”
A fatly syrupy dewdrop of sap treacles out of you, which Nanami spits out gladly back into where you were leaking the most. “H-heh, she’s talkin’.” Squelch after squelch after squelch drawn out every time he’s crashing his tongue to tug your snug channel even wider. He’s even slowing down the filthy fapping motions of his hand just to hear you louder. “Sh-she’s talking t’me- ngh! Oh, hellooo– ya want me to t-touch this g-spot, my wife?”
You’re bubbling out spitballs of answers but all of it is drowned out by every waterlogged pump - more like thrashes. Hits piled upon hits that leave your velvety walls all bruised with the circular outlines of his two, no, now three rummaging fingerpads.
“S’that right, hmm–?” Not even talking to you at this point - but with your pussy. He nods his unsteady, blushing features, “Y-you want me to oh…”
Just then, his fingers are so lengthy that Nanami accidentally cruises a direct hit to your g-spot without even trying.
It makes your heated insides squeeze around his digits, laminating every patch of skin from rotund fingertip to pale knuckles with all your frothy juices. Head tumbling back, “Th-there. There there there- Ken–!”
“Here- here.”
He’s rasping out with every breath, every whack into the tenderized area where your g-spot was targeted. Pumping and pumping- shit, Nanami’s so gone on your pussy that he’s letting go of his pulsating shaft to latch onto your hips and make you grind back into his face.
In long, slobbering drags that rub your folds raw on his attractive features, his broad chest wheezes after every one of your swervin’ gyrations.
You clench your legs, ruffling the strands of his usually-tide blond hair, and he’s only pushing your thighs together snugger. Grunting throatily, “Don’t even need hah- air when I’ve got her.”
“I-I’m close–” You’re trilling out, your nails digging deeply into the firm wood of the table. “Not gonna- ngh- last.”
“S’that sooo—” Already feeling the curve of his sleazy grin on your swollen lips, it’s as if he now can’t decide between flopping his tongue inside to tugging your perked, pretty clit. “S’she sayin’ the ngh- same thing?” Planting a particularly harsh thrust of his fingers to make your cunt quiver with a slurp, “She is. Cum f’me then- cum all over my face, darlin’.”
And you don’t just cum, you’re making such a mess.
Your hips twistin’ to push back and ride the sharp ridge of Nanami’s nose back and forth back and forth back and forth. Every snaggling catch of his fingers on your g-spot makes your toes arch adorably, your sweat-simmered spine following.
“M’cum- hngh- fuck! M’cumming, Ken.”
“H-heh, I knowww–” Nanami feels his chubby tip twitch at the use of that lil’ nickname again, weighty balls pulsing to the very same rhythm as your cunt was right now. He’s letting out a carnal voicing of your name as he hits your g-spot deeply. “-she told me, my love.”
Ears popped, you’re barely even catching his lecherous words. The mosaic of your vision blotching with pure stars like they did in cartoons, heavy tears coating your cheeks. It just felt too good.
And, ah, just because you’d reached your waves of bliss - was riding through those peaks upon peaks of euphoria with every passing second - didn’t mean that Nanami was going to stop.
In fact, he’s throwing his free hand tighter around your waist and pinning you dead-on onto his face, the lashing tip of his tongue drawing out more n’ more zips of white-hot electricity from your core. He was still eating you out like a man starved.
Rendering you speechless, you cry– “Wait- wait wait wait, I-I’m so sensitive.”
“Good.”
Purposefully murmured with his spit-slicked lips wrapped precisely ‘round your throbbing clit, you’re pounding your fist down on top of the office table until its hinges ricket.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Until it stops just as soon as it started when Nanami catches the knob of your clit with his sharpened canines and bites. And then you shriek, then you see white, then you’re squirting - right down onto your husband who gapes.
“I-it feels so wet.”
“Go on—” He’s coaxing the torrenting sprays out of you with every curled thrash of his fingers, grinning. Wild. “Go on go on go on, make a mess. M-make a mess f’me.”
Splashing right onto the apples of his cheekbones, he’s flapping his eyes half-shut so that you’re drenching him all your juices.
Your maw slacking open as your second orgasm is pulled out of you, body wracking with sensitivity, “Please- p-please.” Your glassy pupils swirl in the exact dumbified circles as he was tracing on your clit, “-Ken.”
But even that special name of his doesn’t reel Nanami Kento out of his stupor.
He’s so pussydrunk, so addicted to making out with every squirting splosh of your pussy that he’s overstimulating you stupid. Slurping it up in viscid, eloooongated noises which ring across all four walls and into the pheromone-fogged air.
He thinks he could cum from this, he’s so close to cumming from just this.
Seemingly forever before Nanami leaves a final slap! of the flat underside of his mushy wet muscle on your leaking slope. Cheeks hollowing with a final sluuuuuurp–!
At least, it was meant to be final.
But even as he’s unlatching himself, the alpha can’t bring himself not even six inches away from your spilling pussy before he presses back in with a pained growl. Snarl bared, eyes drooping- once. Twice. Thrice.
“Can’t- can’t-” He’s rumbling out, smoky, and you sense his scent start to grow addicted all over again. Lurching you with a thorough repeated tugs to smooch your cunt some more, Nanami emits a narrowed breath through every kiss. “Can’t move- ngh- fuck.”
“Kentooo—” Your lips flap with the salted flavor of your own tears, trying (and failing) to move onto your tip-toes and remove yourself from your husband’s relentless mouth. Head turned to him, “I-I want you to fuck me, baby.”
And Nanami flinches. Breathing out a ragged, “T-to what?”
You’re blinking your tears back from your dilated irises, lips almost too wobbly to drag out the words. “To fuck- mmpf–!”
SLAM!
You don’t know if the thundering noise is from the way you’re slammed horizontally back onto your front, or the way that Nanami smashes his open palm down right beside your lolling head.
Fingertips twitching, yearning for but a single graze of your face. You’re left helpless as all his Herculean muscles come pinning down your greedy body - firmer and firmer until he’s practically melting into you.
He was so big.
All eight mounds of his washboard abs peeking through his torn button-up and sliiiiding down your spine. Hips pressing down on hips, scent glands brushing against yours. You still had your thin satin blouse on, and yet you could count each n’ every hammer of his roaring heartbeat.
“Watch what you s-say.” Nanami warns, the points of his teeth nibbling along where your perfume was emanating out in clouds and bursts. Needy needy needy.
And so pretty.
“Wh-why?” You huff out, barely given the opportunity to even think of pouting until Nanami seemingly reads your mind and sinks his own teeth into the flesh. Draaaaagging.
“Because-” Faintly, you’re feeling one of his hands straily lumber down to where his ravaged cock was sobbing. The stout end of his knobbled thumb comes to plug up his leaking orifice as Nanami’s teeth scrape your throat. Lips pulled into a snarl, “-m’got gonna fuck you like a gentleman, my wife.”
His words were dangerous. Savage.
Looking the part, too; flushed, intense eyes all half-lidded, curtained partly by his thick blond bangs. And Nanami was glistening with the wettened remnants of your juices, all the way from the blushing apples of his cheeks to drip! drip! drip! in a translucent polish down his sharp jawline.
For the moment, you and your omega are almost rendered soundless - almost.
“Prove it, Ken.”
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Nanami doesn’t know whether it’s the rut or those words or simply you that make his heavy, fat cock flinch in one hand. That makes him throw his head back with a groan, that makes him grind his hips deeper into yours as he cums–
“Move this-” His trembling fingers clutch urgently around where your skirt was still hanging off of your hips. Well, not for long before he’s tearing it clean off. And then follows your blouse, your bra. “Move.”
Right in time for the glittering folds of your pussy to be showered in a thick topping of his creamy white seed. The pointed mound of his tip is frosting out such candied knots of sap that cling to your leaky pussylips - so much.
You’re whimpering at the scalding hot cum that sploshes down the rim of your entrance, dripping. Leaking. “Ken- o-oh my god did you just–”
“Shut up-” He’s snarling out, trying to muffle out the animalistic tonality in his voice but fuck, does he fail. You’re turning him into more of a damn beast than a man with the way your parched pussy quavers to swallow up his glossy droplets.
One of his stocky fingers come up to smear the webbed mess of it on your outer cunt and push it in– “Shut up n’ take it. S’all y-yours anyway, darlin’.”
Before you can untrap your maw from the substantial gloopy-like texture of your spittle, Nanami slouches his weight over your squirming body. Massive, veiny hands rested on either side of your head, he sliiiiides his still-agitated, rock-hard length between your puffed-up folds.
Making sure you feel every single one of his zig-zagging veins from reaching from his tawny golden happy trail down to where he was pinpricking your clit with his thickset cockhead. Over and over.
“All of it.” Nanami whispers eventually, as your driveling hole oils his girth with enough layers of sap that it oozes down onto the office floor.
His sweltering pants making your bodyhairs stand on end, you shiver a single one of his palms slither down to cup your tummy. Somewhere along the way, he draws a burning invisible line about halfway across your body.
And you’re not granted even the chance to ask what he’s seemingly measuring out before a stubby, splittening caress between your jittery legs makes you see stars.
“All- all- of it s’ngh yours– s’got your n-name on it. Yours.” Nanami’s keening out with a raspy tone above the sloppy squelches that immediately start pouring out of your wet pussy. Restraining a firm grip on the curve of your hips to hold you still while he reels back and pushes and pushes– “Every. Single. Inch.”
He was so big that he was spearheading you with every single of his ten inches, too.
Pushing your eyes all the way to the backs of your head with the spheroid crown of his fat, bulbous tip. Every tiny buck makes you streeeeetch around the incredible roundness of his circumference, rubbin’ and rubbin’ your drooling entrance with his veiny shaft.
“Heh, we’re consummatin’ our marriage, my wife.”
“O-oh my–” Your mindlessly squealing pitch breaks, squeezing your silky walls to hug his head. “-it’s so- it’s so.”
“With ngh- just the tip, huh, my love?”
And as cute as it was that you’re pushing back and trying to run away from his relentless pursuit, Nanami doesn’t have the patience right now.
Just barely hanging on with enough sanity to dig his hand thoroughly enough to bruise your poor hips, the slicked sweat of his palm dampening your skin. “Wh-whaaat–?” With a quick, shocking spank on the right side of your ass cheek, he’s traaaawling you over like you were nothing but a pretty lil’ toy. “S’it to h-hah big?”
“It- it’s so…”
You were already proving his point without even speaking. He was just so big that his core flexes with sharp, jutting strikes just to fit inside you, hissing with every recoiling resistance of your tight entrance.
You’re moaning ridiculously after every pulverizing glide that makes his probing cockhead push even deeper. A sliver of sweat trickles down the side of Nanami’s temple and hits your back in a splat!
Darting up onto your unsteady elbows, you restlessly try to fuck back into his ruthless cadence. “Please- please, baby. More.”
He tilts your face up to scorch it with a few promises, “I’ve got it- Kento’s got you.” Smacking a hand ‘round your arched throat - manhandling you into a fucking headlock, your husband urges you to sink your teeth into his heated flesh.
“Bite. Bite n’ you’re gonna take more, m’kay?” Nanami’s whispering out like a mantra, pulling you to crash your lips with his own stern ones. “Like a good girl- like my g-good girl.” His other arm softly thumbing along the outlined tummy bulge he was fucking into you, “More more more more more- Want more- y-you’re gonna get it- ohhh, you’re gonna get it.”
The sudden change in angle makes the stinging mounds of your ass hit Nanami’s sharp pelvis with a sharp thwack! Bottoming out.
“Good girl.” He utters, sounding like a man crazed. The sensitive skin of your glands roast with a lazy lick, cold metal of his glasses slipping down until they kiss your skin. “O-ohhhh good giiiirl l-look at you taking it like a- like a champ. Kissin’ me from th-the inside, my omega.”
And the only thing you can moan are softly gasping ohs! and yes! again and again as his bulging biceps tighten around your neck, pounding the goopy ends of your cunt with a firm hit.
All with swollen, long inches.
Nanami was so fucking massive that he was kissin’ your sweetest, most tender spots without even trying. Just the massage of his plumply swollen veins over them make your mouth slobber, counting in your head each lightning bolt - about eight of them.
And Nanami? Nanami was falling apart.
He was slurring out mix n’ matches of syllables that resembled your name every time your heavenly, hot innards were clenching around his capped crown like a vice.
“Y-you feel so good, Ken.” You’re calling out as his toned hips position underneath your ass cheeks to push against you until you were almost dangling in midair. “In s-soooo deep.”
“Yeah? Yeah?” He’s wheezing out with a speckling pinpricks of cum from before and a few fresh spurts swashing all over your base. Your knees buckle as he hooks his chin over your shoulder and presses in, “Keep those p-pretty eyes open, okay, my love? Wanna see you watch- ngh- watch me fill ‘er up, m’kay?”
It’s all you can do to nod to his crazed whims, darting your eyes down to where Nanami was pushing on the base of your spine to make you arch curvaceously.
Straining against the swollen flex of his biceps, oh, you were burnishing his tannish skin with gluey flecks of drool. Stupidly babbling, oh-so-dumb on his massive size. “Wh-where–?”
“Here-” He thwacks his mushy, ruby-red tip in a splurge against your g-spot, “Here- here- and here.” Three repeated times to make you lose your mind just as much as he was, “S’yours. All yours, my wife.”
“All mine. Ngh– mine, Ken.” You echo, your vision blurring at the sheer force that he was pushing into these thrusts. Hell, his own bulked hilt was rubbing raw and red with the slamming impacts.
“Yeah take it. Take it, aaaatta girl.”
His pace was filthy - it was feverish. Head drooping, eyes shuttering.
And a slimy winding river of slobber was starting to fall from Nanami’s curved grin every time he’s getting so fucking drunk on your pussy. Body scorching, neck aching for you to take him take him take him–
“Kento- oh!”
It only takes two accurate swings of his grip to flip you laid onto your back when his veiny cock pulled out.
Important documents fluttering about, this time you’re getting a goood look at Nanami Kento, your husband.
Glasses completely fogged and dangling, his drenched-through shirt barely hanging off of his broad shoulders, pants discarded somewhere along the line to bare you with the sheeny expanse of his muscular thighs. Nothing of the gentleman you once knew.
Thick clumps of saliva spatter as he cranes his head down to you and growls, glassy hazel eyes at you through the rare gaps in his blond bangs.
Your inner omega simply purrs at the glinting sharpness of his elongated fangs, the sensitive splotches on your neck stinging with the primal urge to be bitten.
Nanami’s nose crinkles at the oversaturation of sweet, sweet pheromones, his own coming out in response. And a generous helping of saliva ribbons out onto your front with a splat! splat! splatter! and he only adds to the sleek mess by slapping his weighty, extended length between your pussylips and gawking as creamy pre puddles.
Scratching out, “M’gonna fuck ya pregnant, darlin’. Just s-say the ngh- word.”
“Kento-” Boneless arms slipping around his burning neck and lugging his hulking body even closer, “-please.”
And that’s all it takes.
All it takes for something in Nanami to snap. All it takes for him to hastily align his leaking mushroomed tip with your trembling hole and ram you full all the way to your cervix again. Cratering a French kiss there, deep.
So big that he was digging into every adhesive-slicked mass of your walls, probing and probing until your snug cunt was pulled to your limits.
To your whining impatience, he doesn’t move immediately - instead, you jaw gapes as he’s taking the time to lean down and kiss that round, cylindrical tummy bulge he was fucking into you. Soft lips skittering right over where his bulged tip was hitting, “M’gonna m-make you round n’ glowing, my omega.”
Before you know it, rugged palms slither down the underside of your thighs and fold you like a lawnchair. And into- fuck, a mating press.
A mating press.
The realization seems to strike Nanami at the very moment it strikes you - even though he was literally the one manhandling you into this pliable position. The dimples on his chin quivering as if he couldn’t fucking believe he had his lil’ wife bent like this for him.
And the base of his thickened cock swells. Close.
All the breath leaving his full lungs, “S-so pretty.” Every syllable followed by a harsh plap! of skin-on-clammy-skin. Every syllable. He holds your thrashing legs easily apart, “So pretty a-and wet n’ m’gonna make her even wetter. Wanna make her full- make her…oh.”
“Sh-shit–” You can palpably feel yourself growing even more damp at the way his chiselled, sharp muscles move and tense with each thrust. A hand moving down–
“Move that fuckin’ hand.”
It wasn’t even a command, and yet you find yourself hurrying to listen.
Watching with bated breath as his smoggy, pussydrunk eyes rest on the copious glittering droplets of slick escaping your bulged pussylips, even past his girth. And he only smiles- “S’th-this f’me, darlin’? Alllll f’me–?” Greedily licking his lips, he gropes your tits. “This turns- hah! turns ya on, huh? Getting bred?”
Squealing, “Y-yessss– wan’ it so bad- want you so bad, Kento, please.”
“Hmm…boy or girl?”
“Wh-what?”
He’s only leaning down to rasp more gruffly against your eardrums, a behemoth of his palm patting down on the jiggling pouch inflating into your tummy. “Boy or girl?”
“G-girl.” You’re whimpering out mindlessly, pulse thundering even faster at the brilliant grin that splits across Nanami’s face.
“Mmm– was thinkin’ th-the exact same.” And that wasn’t just the rut talking. Nanami treks a hand to gift your clit with a pinch and chuckles darkly as you flinch, “Easy- easy there.” Still not letting up, still hugging every inch of his throbbing cock on your cunt. “Guess I’ll be the ngh- strict parent then, hm?”
And the zaps of electricity rushing to your brain are too much, his cadence, his pheromones - his rut. It’s all so much that with only a few more vulgar strikes to your battered, bruised g-spot your mouth gulps a dumbstruck “K-Ken, I’m–”
Not even getting out the sentence before you arch your back into a geometrical semi-circle and throw yourself into your nth high of the night.
The edges of your vision tinging with black, it’s all you can do to claw your nails in red, red trailways down Nanami’s muscular back. Feeling every muggily glissading muscle as he pounded you into the desk through every blissful peak.
“Ngh- o-oh, my l- fuck. Fuck fuck fuck–!” Nanami’s voice takes on a whiny tinge at the feeling of your scalding hot insides molding around his pillaging shaft. So tight that he had to bite his lip and push down on your tummy to pull out after every paced thrust. “S-shooo soft.”
Orgasm feeling like nothing more than tingles, your vision tinges like a black vignette once you’re ogling up at Nanami’s pretty, pretty face. “Ken- Ken”
He’s rubbing a heart over your sparking clit with love, “Yes, my love–?”
“Want it i-inside, Ken.” Mindlessly, your inner omega spurs you to teeth over the tense muscles of his neck - over that particular spot. Walls massaged raw every second, “Want you t-to cum all i-insiiide-”
“Patience.” It’s all he says before rovering his hand somewhere above your head on the flat table and grasping his favorite lucky yellow tie.
Before you can blink your tear-stained lashes, he loops it twice over your neck and ties - dragging you back with a simple pull of his bulky biceps. You look so pretty n’ helpless like this that he can’t help but feel his mouth water, spitting the excess between your kiss-swollen lips.
“P-promise not to miss?”
“Never. Wh-what did I tell you- s’all sh’alllll yours.”
Slurring. He couldn’t even speak properly - barely even breathing - before snapping his hips to yours so close that your tender pussymound scratches with his soaked-through tufts of tawn. Once. Twice. Before Nanami collapses on top of you and cums—
Your knees hitting your tits, legs shoved over his shoulders, ass stinging at the shaky jackhammer.
“T-taaake it. Take it n’ get p-pregnant. Get pregnant get pregnant get pregnant–” He whispers as thick, steamy hot cum starts pooling all the way into what feels like your gut. “Want it. Need it.”
Aching, swollen, almost painful sparks of white-hot pleasure running down his spine once he’s slamming a capped knee on top of the table and angling himself to pound and pound.
“Ngh- s-so much–” Your hips thrash, lungs heaving with the weight of his happy caramel scent. “-so much so- fuck.”
He spits into your hanging open mouth. “Ohh m’gonna make a mess of you.” And as he rests his towering body closer on top of yours, you can feel the way Nanami’s meaty thighs tremble delicately with every shooting jetstream of cum spraying inside your deepest parts. The fingers toying with your clit move to pinch your folds together, he prattles. “A-all inshide now.”
Oh, you look so pretty with your pussylips so swollen and leaky. Frothed right on top with an ivory coating of his sap that dips in and out. Moaning, “I-inside?”
“Mhmmm– I-I’m gonna be a papa- a papa. Gonna t-take care of her n’ you don’t hafta lift- lift a finger, my love. I’ll t-take care of the feedin’ n’ the late nights and- and…”
He was daydreaming right now and you were stunned.
“M’gonna b-brush her ngh- hair n’ you’re gonna dress ‘er up all pretty.” He’s babbling just as awe-struck as you, “A-and then you’ll- you’ll feed her breakfast I ngh- made n’ we’ll both take her to school. Spoil her- n’ ohhh she’s gonna look just like you w-with my eyes n’ she’s mine and-”
“A-and?”
“-yours.” Every declaration followed by the most determined of thrusts. One, two, three, four, five more dolloping streams of thick seed that glues to your walls and slips n’ slides straightly down your cervix. Your womb. “Y-yours. Yours yours yours y-ngh! Yours.”
Milking himself for you.
Nanami drills into you like he’s gone feral; that vice-like restraint around your throat stopping him from both biting into you just yet and helping him trawl you up n’ down to take every single drop.
It could’ve been hours, maybe even days before you find your now-shrilling voice once more.
“M-m’yours, too–” You’re whimpering out, gliding your hands through the sweat-matted valleys of his hair and pulling him.
But, of course, Nanami Kento loved to be used by his wife this way.
“N’ I wan’ your knot, Ken.” You bat your lashes, already having felt the massive, thick ring swelling around his base. Yet another particularly hard drive leaves you gasping, he was just so big– if you’d thought his normal hilt was wide, then this would stretch you until you were crazed. “Please?”
Ah, there it was.
That magical word.
And how could he ever say ‘no’ to his wife?
With a knobbly thumb hooked to your fucked-out entrance, he’s arching his back and squeeezing that incredible perimeter inside. It’s so damn large that he has to slouch back and gaze as his knot slaps and slaps your outer pussy.
Wisping out a few globules of buttery cum? Pre? Nanami didn’t even know anymore, just aware that he was sobbing from the purple plum-colored, split-end of his cock.
Canines bitten until he’s tasting metal, “Gonna take it- t-take it like a good girl. My ngh- good wife.” Nanami’s fighting to keep his weighted lids from falling shut, “Get you all plugged w-with my knot. S-so full you can’t even ngh- fit. Can’t even take anymore-”
“Yes, please- please give it t’me, Ken.” You’re scrambling on the table, left hand flapping away somewhere until he clings onto it and brings it up to his spit-soiled mouth.
Tenderly kissing the band of your wedding ring as his sloppy thumb pries apart your gluey-stuck folds and siiiiiiinks his knot in. Fully. Tightly.
And as soon as it’s all in, you’re blinking back nonsensical stars and angels in your vision - sobbing at the sheer stretch. It’s so raw, so filling having him be connected deeply inside, the tender skin of his ballsack flinching after every one of your squeezes.
Knot digging into your walls so thorough and hot.
And it’s as if for a second, your husband stops breathing.
Enough for you to ask, “B-baby, are you okay?”
“N-no.” Comes Nanami’s strained, cracking whisper of an answer. So hoarse you almost couldn’t hear it, “No.”
And there’s no warning before Nanami flinches - viscerally, animalistically to surge his face into the crook of your neck and bite. Hard enough to draw blood.
You let out a soundless scream, mouth dropping into the perfect oh! at the euphoric feeling of his jagged canines ripping into your scent glands. Scents melding and mixing and becoming one, it’s as if ten more orgasms hit you at full force.
And your husband - your mate - feels it, too.
Because the combined strength of his slamming pound and his fist on top of the table is so much that one of the sturdy mahogany legs breaks in half.
Sluggishly, your omega reminds you that it was your turn to reciprocate the possessive marking.
“Ken…” Being held up by none other than his tie blocking most of your airway, you lift your dizzy head enough to kiss the swollen gland where the whisked caramel was the most potent. Biting down as hard as your ruined body could, “-m-mine.”
At the sensation, he gasps–
“Marry me.” Hips driving sloppily into yours all over again and again and again even though the knot prevented him from doing anything more than swervin’ grinds. It’s like he won’t stop - can’t stop. The crimson-stained plumpness of his lips smear all over your mark, your ring, your lips. “Marry me marry me- be my wife?”
“Kentoo–” you giggle out, shortly out of breath as he accurately scratches your g-spot carnally once more.
His foggy, half-lidded eyes watch you closely as you interlink your left hands together and reach it up to his hazy line of vision. “We’re already married.”
“O-oh.”
And it seems he was genuinely so pussydrunk that it didn’t even register - couldn’t register doing anything but gyrating his v-line into you sensually. Slow, aching drags of his plump tip stirrin’ hearts out of your insides and the splashes of cum within.
Over and over, while Nanami takes off whatever remnants were left of his shirt and lays his head between the valley of your tits. Grabbing a sweet handful whilst he sucks like he was trying to draw milk out already.
Desk broken, air saturated.
And only once he feels his rounded knot softening the slightest bit, tugging himself out with a few lecherously slurping tugs, does he speak.
“S-s’a good thing our hck! company’s empty.” Nanami whispers, barely audible over the squelch! of his webbed mess of cum immediately flooding out of you. Raw white and messy. Depraved.
As you gasp, he’s cracking your legs open. Oh?
Kneeling down down down–
Oh.
The pinkish tip of Nanami’s tongue hits your overstimulated, weeping pussy with a damp thwack! “Because we’re celebratin’ our honeymoon in every room of this building, my wife.”
A/N. Mwahaha I told y’all alpha Nanami was next <3
content: MDNI, multiple povs, semi-public sex, oral (f! receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie, biting, blood, no use of yn, copious amounts of teasing and tension
"You have pretty eyes."
"Oh?" A pretty voice too, apparently.
You weren't usually the type to speak to strangers, let alone one who looked like him. Some sudden shift in the air had you peeking up from your book and glancing over to the dark-haired man now sitting on the worn couch across from you. Although, you weren't sure you could really blame anything except for your big mouth for the cheesy compliment you just accidentally paid him.
Shutting his own thick book with a soft thud, setting it on his lap while his gaze flickered over to you, the same way a cat assessed a mouse who happened to scamper in front of it. Long, lazy blinks, catching a glint of a sharp canine when he tugged down on his lower lip.
"Um, sorry if I interrupted-”
“Pretty, huh?” He repeated the word, making the two syllables somehow vulgar when it rolled off his tongue. All hushed and honeyed as he raked sturdy fingers through his dark hair, brushing back a few loose strands framing the sharp planes of his face.
“I, uh, wasn't trying to hit on you,” You mumbled, tearing your eyes away from him and struggling to focus back on the words floating across the page.
You were sure he was probably used to girls throwing themselves at them. Maybe you would if you were somewhere else, a club or a bar instead of your cozy corner of the library you frequented every week.
“That's disappointing,” He let out a small sigh, plucking a tiny piece of lint off the sleeve of his cream-colored sweater, leaning forward and propping his chin up in his palm.
“Is it?” You almost laughed, a smile flitting across your face when your eyebrows shot up in surprise.
Did he really want you to flirt with him? Or would it just hurt his ego if you weren't?
“Mhm,” His lips were sealed, pressed together in a thin line, the noise coming from his throat.
You did laugh now, barely a giggle escaping while you shook your head and tried to resume reading for the second time tonight.
Suguru had other plans.
"It's a bit late," He coolly pointed out, the fine line of his jaw tilting as he nodded at the clock hanging off-center on the wall.
"Guess you could say I'm a night owl," You turned the page with a soft hum of your own.
His mouth curled up in a crooked smile.
"Me too.”
"I haven't seen you here before," You shrugged a little, your cardigan slipping down your shoulder with the motion, revealing a flimsy little strap of a tank top? A bra?
"Many people come back here?"
He already knew they didn't.
That was why you liked it. The seclusion. Sure, you didn't own it, and it wasn't a secret, but it was still a slice of sanctuary. One you'd accidentally lured him to smelling like that, the hints of plum and jasmine he could pick out in the sweet, intoxicating scent he found himself following through the stacks of books and empty aisles.
"You'd be the first," You answered honestly, absentmindedly running your finger along the edge of the page, just asking for a paper cut.
"I can leave, if you want," He offered, although he wasn't sure if he'd be able to follow through if you took him up on it. He'd like to think he would.
“Stay,” You simply said, accompanied by another little bob of your shoulders, tendons flexing in your throat with the single unsteady word. “If you want.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” You nodded, making a point not to look up from your book. It was cute - your sincerity, your attempts at playing it cool.
“So,” He drawled, waiting for you to spare him a glance before continuing. “What do you like about them?”
“What?” Your voice came out higher than it had before, your eyes wide and glossy when they landed on his.
“My eyes.”
He could hear how hard your heart was pounding, feel it like it might as well been his own.
“Oh, um-” You swallowed, a nervous laugh escaping while you brought your hand up to your face, chewing on the edge of your manicure.
“Hm?”
A single syllable was really all it took for the heat to rise to your cheeks, painting them a pretty shade of pink, the pulse thrumming underneath your tauntingly thin skin picking up.
You hesitated, flustered under your furrowed brows, studying him instead of the book forgotten in your hands, a page still pinched between your fingers. "They're warm. It's, um, nice.”
Warm? Him?
What sort of embers did you see in him? The fire, his drive, that used to smolder underneath the surface had been snuffed out in a previous life - the emptiness of eternity drowning it out.
You were staring openly at him now. Or maybe he had been staring first. The glimmer of your lip gloss catching the light as you tilted your head to the side, crossing your legs a little tighter.
Clearing your throat in the thick silence, one hand falling from your book to pull down the hem of your too-short skirt, offering a polite smile like it'd hide the hunger underneath it. The arousal pooling in-between your thighs, the panties he'd like to tear off so he could get more than just a taste of you.
Could he stop himself there?
He wasn't Satoru.
Suguru had self control, his own rigid rules he resigned himself to subsist by. It would take more than just some girl to loosen the leash he kept tight around his own neck.
There were differences, in the consistency, the warmth when it came from the vein. But the taste of rust, the iron sitting heavy on his tongue was always the same. He doubted you would be the exception. In the miserable years since he'd been condemned to this, it hadn't gotten easier - but was he supposed to starve? Would he even die? Could he?
Humans - you - weren't worth the effort.
Not when he could get what he needed from the blood bags Shoko would smuggle out of whatever hospital she last snagged a job from.
But then, why was he here?
"Are you alright?" You were concerned. For him.
Like you weren't sitting so pretty within his reach, just asking to end up on the headlines of tomorrow's news.
“Fine,” He hm-ed, ignoring the itch under his skin, the dryness in his own throat reminding him of exactly how long it's been since he had his last drink.
You were just a stranger. And once he found the strength in his legs again, he'd get up and get out. Call Shoko and Satoru and find something to stop him from following you home.
He didn't need to know your name. Didn't want to. Couldn't.
There was a faint glimmer of curiosity you didn't conceal in your covert glances, constantly peeking over your book like he wouldn't notice.
"What are you reading?" He asked instead.
"Oh, it's nothing," You blushed again, your grip readjusting so the title was obscured, wilting a little under the weight of his attention.
He tsk-ed, leaning over the coffee table separating you to snag the book from your hands, ignoring your stunned stammers as he flipped through the thin pages, skimming over the words. Leaning back, letting his legs spread comfortably, humming to himself.
Suguru didn't know if you'd take the bait.
If you'd realize you were prey before you were too wrapped up in his web to get out.
You were already on your feet, bridging the divide in a few short strides, holding your hand out expectantly with a huff. Your leg touching his, his slacks rustling against your bare skin when you leaned over him.
Weren't you cold in that excuse of fabric you called a skirt?
It's not like he had much frame of reference anymore - but the leaves scattering the sidewalk outside were orange, the trees barren, most people he passed by were far more bundled up than that. A scarf was tossed haphazardly over your bag by your chair, like that'd help any.
“Come on,” You pouted, jutting out your bottom lip and batting your lashes, your thigh still pressed against his.
It'd be easy to hold you.
To grab your hips and pull you down into his lap, find out what flavor you were for himself. How pliable you would be, what shape you'd let him mold you into.
But he held himself back, patting the cushion next to him. He half-hoped you would leave - but you sat down, taking your book back while you rolled your eyes.
“If you wanted me to sit next to you, you could've asked,” You were teasing him, letting him drag you to hell with a smile on your face.
Not even opening your book, studying his features like something he'd said or done had marked himself as safe in your head.
“And if I asked you to sit on my lap?”
“Why don't you find out for yourself?” You challenged, sliding the thick novel over on the scratched-up coffee table, your coffee growing cold on its coaster on the other side.
He laughed. When was the last time he'd done that?
He knew he was playing a dangerous game here - did you?
Was it a smart idea to sit on a stranger's lap?
No, but, who could blame you when the hottest guy you'd ever seen had been eyefucking and flirting with you since he sat down?
"Are you nervous?" He hummed. Somehow closer even though you could've sworn he hadn't moved, only a thin gap between your chests, the soft fabric of his sweater brushing against the bare strip of your shoulder. He was looking down at you, all pupils now, the welcoming warmth of the amber that first caught your attention swallowed up by something darker.
"N-no," You lied.
He laughed, just a low chuckle that reflected the same bored amusement you found in the rest of his face. His thighs sturdy underneath yours, supporting your weight while one hand slipped under your skirt.
"You worried I might bite?" He mocked - or teased. It felt like the same thing either way.
"Do you?" You asked, your breath caught in your throat at the pretty white glint of his teeth in the small smile he graced you with, part of you wondering how the sharp edges of his canines might feel scraping against the tendons of your throat, what kind of noises he might make if he was on top instead of under you.
"Do you want me to?" He returned the question.
"Maybe," You admitted.
Inhaling a sharp breath, lungs desperate for whatever air you could suck down, chest rising and left anticipating the fall when his fingers skimmed across your cheekbone just to stroke your hair softly. You hadn't meant to - but you were leaning into his touch, tilting your head to meet his hand, melting into the moment.
Maybe you just dozed off.
That this, and him, was all a sleep deprived dream from reading one too many cheap romance novels lately and you'd wake up alone back in the armchair.
But fuck, he felt real.
His skin was freezing - smooth marble under your fingers, nails digging into stone instead of firm muscles as you skimmed over the ridges across his chest.
You were shrugging your cardigan all the way off before he had to ask, glancing back to throw it on top of where you left your scarf and purse when you arrived. He was impatient though, pulling at the thin shirt you had on underneath, fingers tugging it up and over your head, the chill of the air conditioning and his fingers on your waist making you gasp when he easily discarded it too.
One blink and he had you on your back, sinking into the soft cushions of the couch, the springs creaking underneath your combined weight. Undoing the zipper on your skirt in a single fluid motion and pulling it down to leave you in just your underwear beneath his body. A massive hand ghosting up your thigh to hook it over his hip, the cool metal of his zipper and what was barely contained underneath it was pressed against the thin lace of your panties.
You didn't even know his name.
"I, uh, oh," You were stammering in-between broken gasps, his mouth hovering over your neck, his sharp nose grazing against your ear, and you weren't sure if it was your hair or his that was tickling you.
"Call me Suguru," He murmured.
"Suguru," You echoed, testing the sound on your tongue, his name coming out more like a question or a plea when his lips finally met your throat. Softer than you imagined, pressed against the vein like maybe he could hear the pulse racing underneath.
"Mhm," He sighed into your skin, letting his lips linger there.
His kisses were the type of tender that you expected from a lover or a boyfriend, as careful and collected as him. They traced over your breasts, only pausing the graze over your nipples, rolling one between his index and thumb with his teeth scraped against the other, an almost gutteral sound escaping his throat when your hips arched up into him, rolling against the growing bulge in his pants.
You tried to reach down, to pull up his sweater, fingers fiddling with his belt before he paused playing with your tits to pin your hand against the couch, sturdy fingers easily encircling your wrist, his mean grip almost bruising as it held you in place.
“Patience, pretty girl,” He taunted, as if he didn't look like he was ready to devour you. His hungry gaze sweeping over your chest, hanging onto every shuddered breath you took.
“I want you,” You openly admitted, using your free hand to reach up to touch his face. Brushing your thumb over his swollen lower lip, pulling it down to ask for entry, just enough to feel the ridges of his teeth underneath.
“I know,” His laugh was dark, contained, his breath cool against your skin. You barely managed to stifle your whine when he caught your thumb in between his teeth, running them over your nail, applying just enough pressure to keep it there.
Your brows drawn together, begging him with just your eyes while you bit down hard enough on your own lips you were surprised the skin didn't break. He released your thumb and wrist at the same time, moving your hand so it was cupping his cheek.
“I want you too,” He muttered quietly, his voice so low it was almost inaudible.
“You can have m-” You were cut off before you could finish, his lips colliding hard against yours, something harder throbbing into your clit. You gasped, writhing under the weight of him, the friction when he rocked his hips against yours making your head spin. You'd been off-center since he showed up, something about the warm, spicy scent of his cologne, the depth in his dark eyes, the easy confidence in every fluid movement, his charisma disarming, disorienting.
“Careful,” He murmured in one of the stolen breaths between kisses while you stared up at him, glossy-eyed and panting, your oxygen-starved brain barely able to process his words.
“I don't wanna be,” You argued, trying to sneak your hand back to his belt, managing to unzip his pants halfway before he laughed again, a quiet chuckle muffled into your throat when he started painting the skin there purple with starving little sucks, reveling in the gasps and groans he earned every time his incisors scraped against your collarbone.
“You just offer yourself to anyone?” He chided, allowing you to unbuckle his belt, not providing any assistance while you struggled to pull it all the way off.
“Are you anyone?” You huffed, finally managing to pull it though the last loop, the buckle clinking as it hit the table when you went to drop it by the couch. Cringing at the noise, you tried to prop yourself up on your elbow and peek out the small gap between the shelves to see if anyone had noticed.
But he had you by your hips, your back landing flat against the couch again when he tugged you down, breathless as his palms drifted down to spread your thighs for him, his tongue tasting you through the already wet patch of your panties.
“W-what are you-” Your strained whisper dying mid-question when his mouth found your clit, sucking on the swollen bud with heedy kisses, dragging his tongue across it almost desperately. The lace of your underwear was about to give under his pressure, the hardly-there material soaked and slick with saliva, his fingers digging into the clenched muscle of your thighs.
“Fuck,” He groaned, glancing up at you through half-lidded eyes. His lips swollen, glossy as his tongue ran over them, like he was savoring the taste lingering there.
“Suguru?” Your voice was hushed, hesitant when you said his name. Squirming under his hold, uselessly searching for friction, white-hot need pooling in the pit of your stomach the second he pulled away.
“Mm?” He’d almost look drunk if it wasn't for the razor sharp focus in his eyes, how intensely they were focused entirely on you, assessing the silent plea of your pout. “Patience, remember?”
“Please,” You begged.
He tsk-ed, but he slipped two fingers against the side of your panties, tugging them down your thighs excruciatingly slowly, like he had all the time in the world and that the librarian couldn't just walk in and ban you both for life at any given moment.
The protest on your own tongue turned into a whimper when he buried his inside you. Crooking itself flat against your walls, trying to map out every spot for himself, humming with approval every time he elicited a broken gasp or tore a new noise out of your throat.
Pushing your thighs back down, pushing them further apart every time you tried to close them around his head, lapping at you like you were his favorite meal. Your head falling back against the armrest, chest heaving with every strangled breath, hand absentmindedly reaching out to tangle itself in his hair. You hesitated with the realization you might mess it up, but he let go of your leg long enough to take your hand and put it there.
When his tongue slipped out, licking a clean stripe up to your clit, you had to grab his hair, silky strands slipping between your fingertips and pulling him in. You were pretty fucking positive you'd be left picking up the pieces of your sanity after this was over, stuck replaying this night on repeat for maybe forever.
“God, fuck,” You practically spat out the curse, barely aware of whatever words were spilling out when he eased two of those sturdy fingers in, stretching you open as he circled your clit with hungry sucks.
Like some frenzied fever going straight to your head, your whole body burning up at the borderline lewd noise of him pumping his fingers in-and-out, hopefully planning exactly how he was going to fuck you later, your cheeks only flushing harder at the thought of what that might feel like if this was already heaven.
“Oh, oh,” You whined, driving his fingers deeper when you arched your hips up, everything inside pulling tighter and tighter until he nipped at the sensitive bud of your clit and you snapped.
His own moan, his tongue still continuing his steady, practiced motions while you unraveled only made you dizzy, desperate. You had to clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, a fistful of his hair in your other hand.
You didn't think you'd ever came so hard, all the little neurons firing off like he'd permanently rewired your brain chemistry with just his tongue and a couple fingers, craving every touch he'd offer.
He tore your hand away, capturing your lips with his own and kissing you again like he craved you just as much, if not more. You could taste yourself on him, but you were too distracted by the way he was pulling down his boxers just enough for his cock to spring free, a thick vein bulging along the shaft, the tip pink and dripping already, painfully hard as he dragged it over your still-sensitive bud to ghost across your entrance.
“You can come inside,” You teased, your hand finding its way underneath his sweater, feeling the ridges and divots of his back muscles as you pulled him closer.
“Oh yeah?” He chuckled, this thumb drifting across your brow as he kissed the corner of your mouth.
“I’m on birth control,” You muttered, surprised at how easily his casual affection had you blushing again.
He frowned, those pretty pink lips pressed in a hard line like he was considering for the first time you might not be his.
You started to giggle, barely suppressing your grin at the hints of jealousy you detected. It wasn't like you'd ever actually done anything like this, hooking up with a stranger. Still, he was practically pouting - or as close to it as he could get, the downward curve of his mouth, his eyes narrowed before he pressed the tip tantalizingly hard against the sore bundle of nerves and turned your laugh into a strangle oh.
“You know how hard you're making this for me?” He spoke slowly, his jaw clenched tight as the lump in his throat bobbed.
“You could show me,” You murmured, tracing little hearts on his back while you wrapped your thighs around him, crossing your ankles as he aligned himself.
“You don't know what you're asking,” His voice was strained, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly sunk in, inch-by-inch, your breathing stuttering as you struggled to adjust around him.
“M-maybe I wanna find out, Sugu-” His name turned into a breathy moan when he abruptly bottomed out, burying your face into the sharp edges of his collarbone to muffle the sound. Nails scraping at his shoulder blade, heels digging into the small of his back as he pressed snugly against your cervix, barely giving you the time to process how deep he was before pulling out and plunging back in.
The rasp in his groan only made you throb, your lips pressing against the cool column of his throat, pressing weak, wet kisses up to his jaw, hoping to leave a few marks to prove you'd been here. You were putty for him and he knew it. Imprinting every ridge and groove and vein into you like he was sure no one else would be able to fill the hole he left afterwards.
His next thrust rough enough that you were reflexing scooting up the couch with a whine just for him to pull you back into him, one hand on your hip to hold you down while he found a steady rhythm, the other reaching up to squeeze your breast hard before drifting up to slip behind your neck.
There was something nearly feral in his eyes when you looked up at him, your lips parted for the shattered breaths escaping every time he molded you around him. The chill of his hands and the burn of the stretch were intoxicating.
“Are you trying to, ah, break me?” You tried to tease, like you weren't clenching around him, toes curling with the pleasure wracking through you every time he angled impossibly deeper.
“I might,” He admitted, all hoarse and heavy as his thrusts stalled, throbbing, his tip smashed against your womb.
You couldn't help your whimper, trying to buck your hips up into him just for him to press down on your hips again and pin you back in place. His head dipping down to rest against your collarbone, long lashes fluttering against your skin as he sucked in a ragged breath. The restraint he was clinging onto, the need and the hunger and how close he seemed to be to coming completely undone was maybe the closest you'd ever come to a religious experience.
“God, you're killing me,” You mewled, his fingers pressing into the back of your neck as his lips grazed against the straining tendon of your neck, your chin tilted back automatically to ask for more kisses, more attention, more anything.
“I might,” He repeated in a low growl, his teeth skimming against your skin, pulling out just enough to bully his way back in, his thumb digging into your hip hard enough you were pretty sure he'd leave a fingerprint.
“Fuck, I hope so,” You mumbled in-between moans, lost in the feeling of him, the waves washing over you with the force of every frantic thrust, the once-steady rhythm starting to falter, grow sloppy as his kisses got harsher, longer.
His hand slipped in-between the narrow divide between your bodies, catching your clit between his fingers to massage harsh circles against it, only getting faster at the broken noises he managed to rip straight from your chest.
“You gonna cum for me?” He managed a filthy whisper in your ear, going back down to suck on an already-sore spot in the crook of your collarbone, sounding like he was the one about to cum.
“Mm,” You nodded, head too scrambled to get a coherent sentence from your brain to your mouth, trembling as the waves crested higher and higher until - “Oh fuck.”
Eyes screwing shut so tight little stars were dotting the black when you unraveled, devoted whimpers of his name rolling off your tongue as you clawed at his back, squeezing harder and harder like you were trying to suck him in and keep him there forever.
Some intangible thread tangled between you snapped.
A guttural moan left him, thick and warm ropes of cum filling you up and dripping down onto the inside of your thighs as his hips smacked roughly against your skin, the incisors scraping along your throat sinking in, setting off a new sort of burning when he actually bit down.
You gasped, squirming under his hold when his grip on your neck tightened, the veins of his cock still pulsing as he sucked hard, something sticky coating your skin when you heard him swallow.
“S-Suguru,” You whined, lightheaded, torn somewhere between pleasure and pain when he let out another thick groan, his teeth retracting just for his tongue to press hard and flat against the exposed tendon, licking a clean stripe there.
“Taste so fucking good,” He murmured into your neck, each word broken up by small nibbles, just enough to puncture the first layer of skin, lapping up the small drops of blood that'd pop up.
When he came up for air, all disheveled, your blood on his mouth, the sharp points of his canines, his bangs fallen in his face, an air of fucking contentment just radiating off of him while he just stared at you. Naked and bare and vulnerable and bleeding for him while he was still dressed, even if his dick was still out, still hard. Cum leaking down your thighs, a wet spot spreading to where his boxers were pulled down. He noticed, two fingers dipping down to push the cum back inside with an expression bordering on smug.
“You bit me,” You accused, blinking a few times, eyes flickering from the red ringing his lips to the color that returned to his eyes. There were fresh stains on his sweater, streaks of red by the collar you sincerely doubted would come out in the wash.
“Yeah,” He smirked.
Like he knew you liked it.
“Yeah?” You repeated incredulously.
“Wanna do it again?”
a/n: phew, back to regularly scheduled programming next week <33 hehe this one is for @quinnyundertow n @pnkblueberry and all my Geto girlies mwah ily guys sm!!
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