[E] Port Mafia, Armed Detective Agency
non-requested! pm execs n ada x reader — children mention ﾉ f!reader, fluff and smut, song. in depth descriptions, use of 'yuu,' p in v, making love, praise, slight nipple play + lactation, missionary: fukuzawa. use of 'rintatoru,' not listening to doctors orders, mention of labor, cunnilingus, breeding kink, lactation, praise: mori. fingering, use of 'tetsuo,' soft sex, p in v, whimpery male, missionary, overstimulation, teasing: kunikida. teasing, doggy, p in v, choking, he says "shut up," creampie: chuuya. teasing, fingering, slight dumbification, spooning: dazai. reader is called a bitch, doggy-ish, over a counter, bondage using his gift, p in v: akutagawa.
about the artist! havin' technical difficulties, so formatting and headers r gonna look different for a couple of weeks. gunna post dis rn n do atsushi n hirotsu tmmr
FUKUZAWA, KUNIKIDA, DAZAI, 'N ATSUSHI !
YUKICHI FUKUZAWA never openly accepted the idea of having children, though he never rejected it either. Perhaps seeing you be so motherly and caring towards Ranpo and Yosano had sparked a bit of feeling inside of him. That's exactly how you ended up with two children, scratch that—three children running around your home because Ranpo had joined in. When Fukuzawa walked through the door of his home, he definitely wasn't expecting this. Though the sweet sound of your laughter brought a smile to his face, along with how you carefully tended to your hyper active children.
"Oh? Papa's home! Go bother him," you whisper to the twins, one boy, one girl. "You might as well go too, Ranpo." You chuckle and ruffle the boy's hair as a faint blush appears on his cheeks. He listens to you; although, his approach to your husband was a lot calmer than the 6-year-olds attacking his legs. Fukuzawa notices the soft look in your eyes when he pats Ranpo on the head, picking up his little girl who blows a raspberry at his little boy.
It's not too long until it's bedtime. The kids must've gotten their rough and hard sleeping from you as they're knocked out 3 minutes after you both tuck them in. Ranpo says goodbye, looking at Fukuzawa strangely before leaving. The second your husband closes the door his hand rests on your waist, "We should have another." Slightly taken aback, you question his words to be met with a kiss. "I know I'm getting old, but let's try for another, yes? I miss your stomach and seeing you play with them...I just- I want to put another inside of you." You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Yes, yes, just bring me to bed."
0:34 ─●──────── -4:35
Your whimpers and moans are music to his ears. He feels your delicate hands ghost along the many scars implanted into his skin. Amazement always filled you when you felt and saw no scar on his back, he was a true swordsman in the eyes of many. But he simply loses that title with you the second your nails cast temporary wounds onto his skin. Bumps and redend skin follow the path of your nails with every deep thrust into your cunt. His mouth his pressed to yours, tongues entangled in a dance to (unfortunately) keep those lovely sounds of yours from your children's ears.
"Yuu, Yuu!" you sigh his name, chest lifted in the air with each thrust. "Shh, shh, you're doing so well for me, darling. Just a little longer," he coos, lips latching onto your breasts, as if he didn't speak those words rounds ago. "I c-can't! No more," you whine with glossy eyes.
Fukuzawa detaches from your nipple, snapping his hips to your. "I promise, it'll be all over. Just one more time. Let me fill you one more time," he whispers soothingly, pressing his lips to the tears that slip.
Your heels dig into his lower as he peppers your face in kisses. You've never felt more love than now when he touches you so gently, lips, hips, and fingertips. "Oh, that's it. That's it darling, I can feel you," he whispers into your neck with his calloused hand pressed to your tummy. You nod feverishly, whimpers escaping your parted lips. "Come with me?" Fukuzawa whispers, speeding his hips up a bit, "Cum with me." There's a slight growl in his voice that you notice, one that sends you over the edge, clamping harshly around his cock. "Thatsitthatsitthatsit! Oh, good girl," he whispers, dumping yet another load inside of you. There are chuckles and rough breathing in the air as you both come down.
"Lay down, let me clean you up."
DOPPO KUNIKIDA is not bold, he's blunt. It was funny how long it took him to talk to you. It was obvious that he was falling and falling hard for you, hell, you found solace in his idealist ways. You laughed and agreed with most of the things inside his notebook. When Dazai showed you Kunikida's notebook, you couldn't help but chuckle at how...extreme the 58 requirements fit a spouse were, but also at how you fit every single one. Hence, it wasn't a surprise when you started dating, or when he got down on one knee, or when two little boys are chasing their younger sister around. The oldest is 7, the middle being 6, and the baby girl being 5.
The door clicks and the children instantly stop. "Daddy!" your little girl shouts, (surprisingly) dodging her brothers like a pro to reach the door. The second it opens three children attack Kunikida's legs making him fall over. A gleeful chuckle leaves your lips at the sight, and it was like music to his ears. He struggles to get up trying to pry the children off of him to no avail. "Boys! Baby girl, come here!" you kneel, outstretching your arms to be met with your children.
Kunikida couldn't help but smile at the sight, watching as you easily usher them to the bathroom for the bedtime routine Kunikida carefully crafted. "Welcome home, dear!" he hears you shout. He couldn't help but blush at how well you handled them, organizing the rowdy children. "Your an excellent mother, my love. You could've let me help," he whispers when you close the door to their shared bedroom. "It's alright, dear. You do enough," you press a loving kiss to his lips. "You know... because you're such a good mother, why don't we try for another one?" he hesitantly whispers looking at the wall. A soft chuckle leaves your lips, "I thought that was against the ideals in your notebook." He hears the tease in your voice. He sighs with a smile, "It can change."
0:34 ─●──────── -4:35
"A-Ah! Tet-Tetsuo!" You whine his name, thighs trembling around his forearm. His fingers curl into just the right spot, having your cunt spasm in his fingers, coating it in another layer of cum. "Fuck," you sigh, sniffing in overstimulation. "Shh, darling. Breathe," he coos, with a kiss to your lips. His fingers slip from your heat, tips to his lips before he cleans his hand of your cum. Your eyes travel to the red tip peeking from his black boxers. Pre-cum beads at the head, rolling down to stain the fabric. "Need it," you whisper, lips locked onto yours. "Need it." Kunikida shushes you with another kiss, sliding down his boxers carefully.
"I'm giving it to you," he whispers, lining his tip to your entrance. Kunikida near whimpers when he slides in to the hilt. Your pussy gripping him like a vice. You could swear he almost came from it. "Ah, you feel so good, my love."
Your fingers grip onto the flesh of his biceps, taking his slow yet deep thrusts like always. An uncharacteristic whine leaves Kunikida's lips when your heels dig into his back, pushing him deeper into you. "Oh, fuck—" you curse, "Come on baby, you have more stamina than that." You feel him shudder above you, fingers tangled in his hair. "Come on baby, come on," you coo, desperation filling your voice the more you speak. "I am, I am," he whisper, letting out a shaky moan. Kunikida's hips speed up, his breaths coming out in sighs and huffs. "Another. Are you alright with another?" Kunikida whimpers. You feverishly nod, "Mhmmhmmhm!"
Kunikida hisses as he cums, teeth gritted in pleasure when you yank his hair. Rough pants are heard you both come down from your highs. "Really want that baby huh?" You tease Kunikida. He smiles kissing your cheek. "We'll have to try a couple more times, my love."
OSAMU DAZAI shouldn't have kids. He of all people having kids? Plural? It's a recipe for disaster isn't it? Yet, he's somehow seduced a beautiful woman like you (much to Kunikida's surprise) who accepted him, and even gave birth. Dazai was never one for showing weakness, even the possibilty of it was enough for him to abstain from...activities (without protection at least).
You stand in the kitchen, cooking dinner as your three children run around the house. Dazai, and your two boys throwing toy balls and invisible bullets at one another. With a sigh you bang a metal spoon into a pot. "Come on, soilders! Time to eat!" Dazai smiles, clapping. "Go sit down! Mama mad us dinner," he smirks, chasing them to the table. "What's for dinner?" Dazai smiles, sitting down at the table. "Your favorite! Canned beans," you set down the can in front of him, he bites his lip, looking up at you. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding," you set down the day's dinner, smiling at eager the kids are to eat.
After dinner, the kids rush to their rooms for their bedtime routine as you clean. You feel Dazai's hands glide along your waist. "Your touchy today, what do you want?" Dazai frowns in fake offense, "Ah~ I'm appalled you think something as simple as touching you means—" You glare at him, making him stop his sentence. "Dazai?" He sighs, rolling his eyes, "Okay fine, your—" Then the kids yell from their room for you to come tuck them in. "We'll talk about it," you whisper. "Sure! Talk..."
0:34 ─●──────── -4:35
Dazai inhales, smelling the scent of the soap you use. "Mm, you smell so good!" he whispers into your neck. Your bare back is to his chest as you lay down in your shared bed. Your leg is lifted as his lithe fingers explore the insides of you, slick coating his hand. A whine in ripped from your lips as his fingers curl inside of you. He chuckles when your hips jolt, "You alright? Can't handle it?" You huff at his teasing, "I want more. You know that, please." Dazai kisses the back of your neck. "Come on, beg. You know how to do it," he whispers.
"Baby, please. Please, I need your cock," you plead in a whisper, eyes glossy as his fingers remain filling you. "Please?" You hear him hum, then the sound of a zipper follows. You feel his mushroom tip rub between your folds. "Osamu Dazai, stop playing with me," you curse, only to moan when Dazai's hips buck up against you. "Oh! Fuck—!" Dazai pats your thigh, "Quiet. Don't wanna wake up the kids, do you?" A whimper leaves your lips as Dazai's arms wrap around your waist, hips smacking your ass.
You feel your stomach tightening, hips stuttering at Dazai's thrusts. One of his hands moves up to play with your nipples, driving you closer to an orgasm. A light whimper leaves your lips as your thighs quiver, forced open by your lover's hand. "Baby, I—Oh shit," you curse, eyes crossed and lashes fluttering. You cum hard on his cock, rolling over on your stomach.
Dazai smiles at the shaking of your body, your eyes unfocused and clouded with lust. He lifts your hips with smack to the sore flesh of your ass. "Come on girl, we're not finished."
ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA
MORI, CHUUYA, AKUTAGAWA, 'N HIROTSU !
OUGAI MORI isn't—wasn't, exactly suited for the role of father. An underground doctor like him with such skills and ideals aren't meant for the eyes and ears of children. Nor is a mafia boss willing to do any and everything. And yet, when he saw you coming to him for help, he couldn't help but think of the future. And when he touched you so delicately, you couldn't help but think of the future.
It was a surprise, a good one, but a surprise nonetheless. His hand touched your swollen belly, rubbing it softly as he whispers to your baby. He'd never admit it, though he was extremely excited for the child you call your son to be born. And the day you went into labor was a hectic one, he was hesitant about allowing the knowledge of you to even his trusted subordinates, but he did. You rested in the room hidden behind his office, suffering through labor as an ungodly amount of security was put around the 'Mori Corporation' building. Then there was a cry, and then he smiled.
Your son was only 3 weeks now. Handling a newborn was certainly a hassle, but handling your husband was much harder. His eyes never left the pudge you have, nor your breasts when it was time to feed your child. "Six weeks, Rintarou. It's been three and a half," you huff at his fake pout while he soothingly rubs your sides. "Aw, come now, dearest. You're perfectly fine! Just—Just the tip?" he pouts, earning a glare from you. "You look too good!" And then there was an insane amount of skepticism on your part. "I look "too good"? Your baby has made my body...this. I'm in sweatpants, Rintarou," you speak bluntly.
The look of disbelief and offense on your husband's face surprised you. "Oh no, that's not going to work. It seems I'll have to convince you to take that thought back. May I? Dearest."
0:34 ─●──────── -4:35
"A-Ah! Rin-Rintar—mmph!" Your fingers are tangled in his jet black hair, nails raking against his scalp, his lips mouthing at your pussy. "We're supposed to wait!" You whine, thighs tightening around his head. Mori is fully aware its typical for women to wait 6 weeks before engaging in intercourse, but unfortunately, he couldn't wait. You look gorgeous, and he hates that you believe otherwise. His lips kiss your tummy, teeth nipping at the skin. His gloved hands knead your plush skin. Mori's tongue dips between your folds, lapping up the slick your cunt can't help but produce, that nose you love so much bumping against your clit.
He lifts his head from in between your legs, grinning down at you. His lips press a kiss to your wrist; a satisfied sigh leaves his lips when your fingers carefully tug the hair tie from his hair. "Do me a favor?" His left hand cups your cheek, his thumb ghosting along your lip before your teeth hook onto the glove, tugging it from his skin. "Thank you."
Mori's lips roam around your body as if inspecting it for the first time. His right hand trails down to your vulva, teasing the wet folds. Every kiss, every squeeze, every touch, he whispers praise. "So beautiful," he whispers, lining his cock to you; he rolls his hips into you, his cock sliding into you.
Those violet eyes roam your trembling form, locking on your breasts. His hands cup the mounds of flesh, squeezing them gently; the look on his face suggests he's relishing in your reactions. Mori leans down, his lips encasing your hard bud, running his tongue along it carefully. "Ah! Rin, your gonna—!" A whine leaves your throat when he sucks on your nipple, the familiar feeling of milk being pulled from you. The cream colored liquid streams from you into his lips and onto his large hand. He hums at the taste, his eyelashes flutter closed. The way you whine and clench around him almost made him cum right there. Perhaps that altered his brain. Possibly having two mini you's running around isn't so bad. His eyes are clouded with an animalistic lust, hips rutting into you in desperation.
"Oh, we have to make another one."
CHUUYA NAKAHARA didn't think he'd even remotely get to the 'settle down' phase. He definitely didn't think there'd be a mini ginger giggling in his arms while he attempts to grab his hat. "If he gets your height, I'm crying," you'd tease, earning a glare from him. A chuckle leaves your lips at his expression, though your voice soon quiets as you watch Chuuya admire his son. Hands carefully touching his cheeks, ghosting over his light eyelashes, and comparing hands. The baby giggles, looking up at his father with wide and curious eyes. "Don't grow up too fast on me, little sheep." His voice is a whisper as he playful puts a fist to the baby's chin, "Or I'll beat you up."
With a smile, you walk up and kiss Chuuya's cheek, then your son's forehead. "No fighting boys." Chuuya shrugs, "We're not fighting, mommy. Are we?" he looks down at the laughing baby. "He says no."
Chuuya walks after you carrying the 5-month-old in his arms. "Speaking of fighting, momma. I think we should try...I don't know...a little fighting in bed?" You chuckle and turn around, opening the door to the nursery. "Really?" You smirk. Chuuya shrugs, "We haven't done it in a while. Y'know, we could try while the cockblocker is asleep." A hum leaves your lips as you easily slip the baby from Chuuya's grasp, laying him down to get ready for nap. "Mm, if you ask nicely," you whisper, patting the baby's back. Chuuya sighs, "Please."
0:34 ─●──────── -4:35
"Shit—" Chuuya curses, face buried in your neck. His hands are beneath him, rubbing along the sides of your arched back. His hips snap into your ass. A breathy moan leaves your lips, "Tryna fill me up, huh?" Chuuya laughs into your skin. "Gotta make my baby's mama feel good. I'm not the only one who's—fuck!"
Chuuya's hips stutter, balls tightening when to clamp around him. "Come on, pm executive. You gotta have more stamina than that," you tease, fingers entangling in his messy and long hair. You hear a 'tch' come from your lover before his hips speed up, thrusts harder and faster as you yelp in surprise. "Oh? That surprised you didn't it?" Chuuya laughs, pressing sloppy kisses to the back and sides of your neck, "Trust me. Your gonna learn what it's like to deal with a Port Mafia executive." You let out a breathy moan, attempting to keep up the teasing, "Yeah we'll see shortly," you chuckle, "Get it? Cuz your a shorty and we're cumming—"
You feel a hand wrap around your neck, interrupting your words. "Shut up," he whispers, lifting you up to his chest, enjoying the choked moans leaving your plump lips. He turns your head, lips connecting to yours. He sighs as your eyelids flutter closed, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. "Chuu—Chuuya," you whisper into his lips, cumming hard when his hand presses down on your lower stomach.
As you squeeze around him, trying to milk his cock for all its worth, he cums, thrusts slowing until he lets you fall into the pillows. His softened cock slips from you, though he can feel arousal pooling as he watching his cum ooze from your pussy. He leans down, lips on the shell of your ear.
"Ready to take this "shorty" again?"
RYŪNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA hadn't expected for you to get pregnant. Hell, he didn't think he'd have a girlfriend, much less sex. Gin teased him about his shocked reaction when he found out. Nevertheless, he's a nervous father. He didn't even pick up the baby for the first day until you forced him to. He's bold, but somehow he got timid once his little girl was born. Well, when she was first born. Now that she's one, he's gotten a whole lot bolder.
"Mama, look!" Your little girl runs around, burning this energy from an unidentifiable source. Neither you, nor Akutagawa have this much energy. Perhaps it was just because she was a child, but it's exhausting nonetheless. "I'm looking!" You shout, 100% not looking, though you feel as if she's about to her herself using your "Mommy Instincts," Akutagawa calls it. "Babe," you call, seconds later you hear his voice groan "Rashomon!" in slight annoyance. When you look over, your daughter has a black strip wrapped around her middle, the little seconds away from running into the TV stand. "Thank you," you whisper, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Akutagawa sighs, setting your daughter down to play. You get up, cleaning the kitchen so not to build up mess when cooking dinner later. Then two arms wrap around your waist the "scary gangster" of a baby daddy you have resting behind you. One of his hands dips under your pant line. "Ryu," you whisper, "The kid." You hear him hum.
"Said kid is knocked out on the floor," he whispers back, kissing your neck. "Doesn't mean she can't wake up soon." Akutagawa huffs, "She's a cockblocker, one who's asleep. And who's also, a hard sleeper." You turn, glaring at the man. "Are you serious?"
0:49 ─●──────── -3:50
"Bitch, bend over," he curses, pushes your front down on the counter. "Let me bend over, damn!" You whisper-shout, "And you call me a bitch again, I'm stabbing you with that kitchen knife." Akutagawa grunts, mumbling a 'whatever' and he pulls down your pants, letting them pool at your ankles.
You feel his tip push into you and whine. Before you can cover your mouth, Akutagawa goes it for you, rasping "Rashomon," before strips of black wrap around your mouth and hands. Your eyes water from the situation, though you don't ask him to stop or slow down. He buried himself to the the hilt, hisses at how you clench around him. A muffled moan leaves your lips. "What was that about this being a crazy idea?" he whispers with cold lips pressed to the shell of your ear.
Akutagawa grunts, eyes trained on the sleeping toddler in your living room. His hips smack against your ass, his length reaching all of the right spots. "Ryu!" You whine although it's muffled. "Ryu!" he almost laughs at the desperation you have in your voice. "Ah~" he whispers, lithe fingers digging into your sides. He begins to curse in your ear, hips speeding up as your toddler shifts on the floor. Your feet flex, knees buckling in pleasure. "Fuck—" he curses, biting into your shoulder as he cums. The bite sends arousal through you, drool pooling out of the corner of your lips, your cum coating his cock.
Your little girl sniffs, getting up off of the floor as Rashomon quickly disappears. "Mommy?" She looks at the two of you with confusion. "Just lay down baby, gimme a second."
RYŪRŌ HIROTSU
PREMIUM PACKAGE USERS: none :(
ARTIST MESSEGE: "can u tell i luv fukuzawa? and (mori) ahem atsushi? sum of dem i had 2 cut short n stuff and i wasn't going all out. but fukuzawa is by far da best of da bunch. i luved makin' dis. never felt so gud abt ma ritin'! i also used da real names of da irl counterparts. esp. kuni cuz saying doppo is kinda weird n i don't wana call him by his last name cuz their married, sooo. i think a most bsd men have slender/long cocks instead of thick ones. esp. aku."
“—and once again, you scored a hat trick this match against arsenal. mr. isagi, is there anyone or anything you’d like to thank? a certain someone, perhaps? after all, this is one of the most important matches in your career.”
at the mention of a “certain someone”, a pale pink dusted isagi’s cheeks. he rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile making way onto his face at the interviewer’s question.
isagi wasn’t a fan of press conferences, especially not with the amount of paparazzi surrounding him, but being able to talk about a certain someone totally changed his mood, every time.
“my partner,” isagi looked down at his hands as he fiddled with his fingers like an embarrassed schoolgirl. a few members of the crowd oohed.
“your spouse, correct? yes, i’ve heard you both have quite the close bond. you’ve been together since high school after all.” the interviewer acknowledged. isagi nodded. “do they know how highly you speak of them?”
“uh, hopefully. actually, they’re probably watching this right now.” isagi looked straight into the camera, a wide boyish grin playing at his features, although it only emphasized his red face even further. “babe, i know you hate it when i call you out, but you are just so absurdly incredible and beautiful and i love you so much.“
the crowd burst into applause. sports industry legend isagi yoichi was just so in love with his partner.
“all of my goals are dedicated to you, love. i’m so lucky to have spent so much time with you and each ounce of your support lifts me up so much.”
back home, you stared at the screen dumbfounded. but eventually, you let out a tiny smile and a sigh. the man you married was totally, absolutely annoying.
₊✦Limbus Company | Ryoshu x Gn!Reader | No spoilers!✦₊
Ryoshu is both annoyed and amused when you first speak in another language. Annoyed because it’s not fun when she’s the one not understanding what someone is saying, but amused because she admires your courage to pull her own tricks against her and two can play that game.
She will get competitive about it. Whatever you say in your own language, she’ll say something heavily abbreviated in response. It’s only fair… even though Ryoshu was the one that started it.
She also doesn’t understand what exactly you’re saying — as mentioned earlier — but she can use context clues to get a vague idea on what you’re saying and throw that back at you with her abbreviations.
If she picks up on you using the same word in your sentences instead of saying her name, she will get that you’re using a nickname for her and she’ll get annoyed that she doesn’t understand what it is. She won’t demand you to tell her what the nickname means because that’d mean losing and Ryoshu won’t lose in a one-sided competition to be more vague than the other part, but she will look into it on her own time.
This will inevitably end up with Ryoshu learning how to speak your language just so she can understand whatever you’re saying while you struggle to understand her abbreviations. She might say some of them in your language if she ever feels merciful… which is disastrous for the rest of the sinners, but that’s their problem.
homelander | Imagine being the only person whose opinion truly matters to him.
The world worships Homelander. Crowds chant his name, cameras flash, and entire cities breathe easier just knowing he’s watching from the sky. He smiles for them, waves for them, saves them.
But none of it ever feels like enough.
Not unless you’re watching.
Imagine standing in a quiet room high above the city, the distant hum of traffic far below. He’s just returned from another flawless rescue—cape still fluttering slightly, uniform untouched, eyes searching.
Not for danger.
For you.
“Did you see it?” he asks, voice carefully controlled, almost hopeful. “I stopped the plane from crashing. Not a single casualty.”
You hesitate. Maybe you’re tired. Maybe the words don’t come quickly enough. Maybe you simply don’t react the way he expects.
And the change in him is immediate.
The air grows heavy, charged with something unspoken. His smile falters, just for a second, before slipping away entirely. The city lights flicker across his face as disappointment settles in, fragile and terrifying in equal measure.
Imagine the most powerful man in the world stepping closer, uncertainty creeping into his posture.
Then, slowly, he kneels.
Not out of humility.
Out of reverence.
His gloved hands hover near you, as if afraid to touch without permission. When he finally looks up, his expression is raw—eyes shining with unshed tears, desperation barely contained beneath the surface.
“Tell me I’m good,” he whispers, voice trembling with need. “Please.”
The plea hangs in the air, fragile and suffocating.
Because you know he doesn’t just want praise—he needs it. Your approval is the axis on which his entire world spins. Without it, the adoration of millions means nothing.
Imagine him resting his forehead lightly against your hand, seeking comfort like something lost and wounded, despite the unimaginable power he holds.
“I’ll do anything to deserve it,” he murmurs. “Anything you want. Just… don’t look at me like I’ve failed.”
And in that moment, it becomes terrifyingly clear:
︵ ೀ mdni. he says he’s 83. but he possibly can’t be, so you laugh and let him finger you at the bar anyway
yuji itadori has always been terrible at lying.
so when you ask his name—after he’s been staring at you all night in that bar behind your workplace—he tells you it’s yuji. and when you ask how old he is, he tells you he’s 83. you just stare at him for a second. then you break out laughing.
he can’t be that old. obviously. you assume he’s joking, and yuji laughs too, a little nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. because how could he possibly explain that he’s telling the truth? that he is 83, that he just ages very, very slowly, and that despite it all he still looks like he’s barely in his late twenties, at most.
not exactly the kind of small talk you drop on someone you just met. especially not someone you already feel, stupidly and suddenly, like you could spend the rest of your life with. so you treated it like a joke, and he let you.
the night wore on. customers left one by one. last call came and went. the other bartender grumbled something about cleaning the kitchen and told you both to get lost, but neither of you moved. the neon sign outside buzzes softly while rain taps against the windows.
you stay.
he stays.
and eventually the place was empty except for the two of you.
you hop up to sit on the bar, skirt riding up just enough to show the soft skin of your thighs. yuji steps between your knees without thinking—like his body knew where it belonged before his brain caught up.
“what are you doing?” he asks, playing dumb.
your fingers curl into the front of his shirt, tugging him closer. “you’re cute when you’re flustered,” you murmured.
his hands land on your thighs—tentative at first, then bolder when you don’t pull away. you part your legs a little wider. his breath catches when his fingers slip under your skirt, past the waistband of your panties, finding you slick and warm already.
“yuji…” you whisper.
he groans and drops his forehead to your shoulder. “god, you’re so—” he can’t finish the sentence. his fingers slide through your folds, slow and careful, circling your clit until your hips jerk against his palm. he pushes one finger inside you, then two, curling them just right while his thumb keeps moving against your clit. you gasp against his neck, nails biting into his shoulders through his shirt.
he wants to tell you everything.
about the curses crawling through tokyo at night. about the monster he saved you from before. about how he’s been quietly watching over you long before tonight—walking you home from a distance, lingering in the shadows outside your workplace, making sure nothing with teeth or claws ever got close enough to touch you.
about how he’s twenty-three going on forever and terrified you’ll run screaming if you ever saw the real him. about how he’s never wanted anyone like this—like air, like gravity, like something he can’t survive without.
instead he kisses you—deep and desperate—while his fingers fuck you in this shitty little place in shibuya. you clench around him, moan into his mouth, and he thinks maybe he can keep the lie going just a little longer.
“eighty-three, huh?” you pant against his lips after you came down from your high—shuddering, soaking his hand.
he laughs, breathless. “yeah. old man perks.”
you kiss him again, softer this time.
he thinks he might tell you the truth tomorrow.
or maybe the day after.
for now, this—your legs around his waist, his fingers still buried inside you, your smile against his—is more than enough.
how does fishy react (or perhaps crashout) when her beloved distorts because Certified Canto Trauma
this was delectable anon ty. wrote this as more of a scenario but i may revisit the concept as a oneshot one day 👀
ishmael with a distorting s/o
She can fix this.
Through the blood roaring in her ears and her mind going a mile a minute, there is one thing that Ishmael grapples to latch onto over and over. She can fix it. It is reversible. And she has helped reverse it before, numerous times.
Back then, it didn’t feel so painful. She didn’t care if she gave the other distortions a good thrashing to get through to them; it was for the best. It helped them, in the end. But you? She didn't want to do that to you. You're the last person she'd ever want to beat back to their senses, but it's too late now. Kissing it better wasn’t an option.
“I should've done something.” Her jaw hurts from how hard she's been clenching her teeth by the time she finds her voice, each word gritted out.
Yi Sang, miraculously still alive after how hard he'd hit the floor a few moments ago, drags his sleeve across his forehead, smearing blood across his pallid skin. “You could not see the depths of their suffering. Many times, it eludes us until–”
“It shouldn't have. I know them.” She snaps. Her grip on her mace tightens until her fist shakes, her knuckles turning white. Her left arm feels all sorts of wrong– something is very off about her shoulder– but she can't bring herself to care as she forces herself back to her feet.
“I know them, and I didn't see it.”
Oh, but she'd seen the way you shook, how you retreated to your room to hide every evening as Mephistopheles drew nearer to your home District. The dread painted plain as day across your face as they crossed the border, how tense you were, your nerves pulled taught until they'd inevitably snap. She did try to be there; tried to reach out, tried to help. Maybe her suggestions hadn't come out quite right, maybe they weren't good enough at all. Drawing from her own experiences, so very different from yours… perhaps that did more harm than good.
And right before you distorted, she saw how tired you were. In an all encompassing, deeper-than-bone sort of way. The Bough was right there, across the ground that was drenched with blood and littered with your shattered memories, and you could scarcely move. She couldn't get through to you then, with your eyes glazed over and your legs long since fallen out from under you, words and fleeting touches no longer enough to ease your suffering.
Ishmael looks to Dante, positioned at the edge of the battle and already facing her, and her message is unspoken but heard as they nod their prosthetic. She's going all out, and she expects backup. You're decimating everything around you. Hurting the others– your friends. Some are dead, some are favoring certain limbs and calling out your name and platitudes like that'll be enough, and she can't quite get herself to scoff because before, it might have been. The thought only makes her heart ache worse, because she can already hear your apologies now. She can feel your guilt, palpable as you hang your head, shielding your eyes from the damaged bodies of your colleagues.
Dante's going to pick them all up, though. Again and again. And they are going to drag you back from the ledge, kicking and screaming, no matter how hard you make it. You won't be swallowed up by your past, they're not going to let you. Ishmael can't let you.
She couldn't get through to you before. Couldn't get through the defenses you'd built up, nor the remnants of her own. But she hefts her mace, and makes one thing very clear as her shield lies discarded in the dirt.
She will this time.
i eat ishmael angst for breakfast lunch and dinner
dating sae itoshi during your baby fever phase was simultaneously the best and worst thing that had ever happened to him.
because at first, he thought it was cute, really cute.
the first time it happened was when the two of you were grocery shopping together. you had stopped mid-walk beside a woman holding a baby, your entire expression softening instantly.
“sae,” you whispered dramatically, grabbing his sleeve. “look at its cheeks.”
sae glanced over once. “…it’s a baby.”
“exactly.”
he blinked slowly while you continued staring at the child like your life depended on it.
that should’ve been his warning sign. because after that, it escalated fast.
suddenly every baby you saw became a conversation, every tiny pair of shoes in store windows made you emotional. and somehow — every discussion ended with you talking about your future children.
his future children.
“our daughter would be adorable,” you sighed one evening while laying across sae’s chest.
sae looked down from his book calmly. “daughter?”
“mhm.”
“what happened to the son you wanted yesterday?”
you frowned thoughtfully. “we can have both.”
he stared at you for a long moment. “…you planned this out already?”
“obviously.”
the scary part? you absolutely had.
for an entire month, sae listened to increasingly concerning statements leave your mouth casually.
“our kids would have your eyelashes.”
“i think our son would be attached to you more.”
“do you think our daughter would get your hair color?”
“sae, imagine tiny little jerseys.”
at first he responded normally, then eventually he just started sighing deeply every time you opened your mouth.
“you’re thinking about babies again,” he muttered one night from the kitchen.
you gasped dramatically. “how did you know?”
“because you just showed me six baby videos in a row.”
“…they were cute videos.”
“one of them was literally just a baby sneezing.”
“and it was adorable.”
sae rubbed tiredly at his face while you smiled proudly from the couch.
affectionately annoyed. that was the only way to describe him lately. because despite all the complaining, he listened every single time, even when he pretended not to.
which unfortunately encouraged you further.
“do you think our kids would like football?” you asked suddenly one afternoon.
sae barely looked up from his phone. “with our genetics? they won’t have a choice.”
you burst into laughter instantly.
god.
he hated how much he liked hearing you laugh about things like this.
the worst part came during practice.
because sae had made the mistake of leaving his phone unlocked beside one of his teammates while showering.
which meant his teammates unfortunately saw your messages.
one of his teammates stared at the screen blankly.
“…why is she sending you tiny baby clothes.”
sae froze.
across the room, one of his teammates leaned over curiously.
“wait,” he snorted. “is itoshi getting baby trapped?”
“shut up,” sae replied immediately.
another teammate grinned. “nah this is insane. ‘sae look how cute this stroller is.’”
sae walked over instantly, snatching his phone away with the coldest glare imaginable. except unfortunately, his ears were slightly pink. which made everything worse.
“oh my god,” somebody laughed. “he’s embarrassed.”
“i’m not embarrassed.”
“you literally are.”
sae looked deeply unimpressed.
then his eyes dropped back toward his phone, another text from you.
you: sae look at this baby halloween costume ☹️
attached was the tiniest lion outfit he’d ever seen. there was a long pause, then slowly — the corners of sae’s mouth lifted slightly. small, barely noticeable, but there.
his teammates stared in horror.
“…he’s smiling at the baby costume,” somebody whispered.
sae immediately locked his phone.
“…none of you saw anything.”
but later that night, when you curled up beside him in bed and started rambling softly about how cute your future kids would be-
sae wrapped an arm around your waist quietly and pressed a kiss against your temple.
“…our daughter would definitely boss me around,” he murmured sleepily.
you froze, then slowly looked up at him with the brightest smile he’d ever seen. and instantly, he regretted feeding your baby fever even more.
a/n do yall know that one speed audio that goes ''aww so cute, so cute'' yeah that was playing in my head the entire time writing this. tysm for reading and other than that theres nothing more to add !!
posting this old draft as a filler cause BRO i’ve been crazy busy i haven’t even started the req yet 💔 don’t want kids, pregnancy n children are a nightmare but for sae i’d reconsider! (still wouldn’t)
you registered the force of sae’s body as it settled atop yours. your thighs were pressed against your chest, his hands spreading you widely, leaving you bare, wet and totally exposed for him as he loomed over you. in between your bodies was a mess — all slick and sticky from him having eaten you out prior. your arousal was everywhere, coating your inner thighs and his dick as he passed himself through your folds.
the flushed head of his cock stretched you open, your hole wrapping perfectly around his tip. he was gripping your flesh hard and pushing into your warmth inch by inch, watching himself disappear inside you and you moaned out, squeezing in an instant. he bottomed out with a faint groan, dick twitching as he buried himself to the hilt.
“oh fuck.” teeth chewing at his inner cheek, his eyes devoured the precious sight in front of him. in your lower abdomen was the soft swell of his dick, just a faint outline of him allll the way inside of you. he pressed down gently on it and you squirmed, cunt fluttering and leaking around him as he stayed snug at your sweet spot. “you take me so well, baby.” he muttered, dragging his nose along your neck, bringing his lips to give your jaw a small kiss.
then his hips drew back and snapped forward fiercely, knocking out the little breath you had left in your lungs. you cried out shamelessly as the familiar sound of squelching filled the room. his cock felt like it was growing harder inside you, throbbing as it dragged against your walls.
he was already moving rapidly, drunk on the feeling of your pussy, determined to stuff you absolutely full with his cum. he groaned lowly every time he sunk in, watching your tits bounce and the cute little bulge form in your stomach with every movement of his hips into yours.
the bed creaking and your eyes rolling, he pushed you down further, the solid weight of his hands behind your knees. your ankles swayed uselessly in the air and your face twisted with pleasure, jaw slack and body reacting to his while he gazed at you. “tell me what you want, love.” he whispered, already knowing fully well why you were in this position.
sae itoshi was not particularly a family man.
he had you, sure, but he didn’t think he could handle anymore than that. sometimes he had to leave you alone for weeks on end, sometimes he’d come home after matches exhausted and go straight to bed, sometimes a lot of your conversations took place through a screen when he was half way across the world. the thought of kids hadn’t even crossed his busy mind.
until you started ‘joking’ about it, and you damn well knew he never took your antics lightly. your list was endless — you would love to have a ‘mini you’, you had always wanted a big family and you guys were more than well off for one and his least favourite, that a family would mean you could ‘all wear super cool matching family outfits’ (which he thought was ridiculous.)
and although it was a huge responsibility, he truly started to consider it — partly due to your reasons (definitely not the matching outfits) but mainly because a baby would be proof that you were his and his alone. a bit selfish of him he’d admit, you were already his wife, but the thought of everyone seeing you with his child, without a single said word said it’d be obvious whose you were. and there was the pregnancy. your hips would grow fuller, your breasts swell with milk and your stomach would grow each passing day with the life you had created together.
so he had to hear you say it, hear you beg for it if you really wanted it.
“w-want..” you had to gather yourself, his pace was relentless and steady as he rocked, “fuck, i want your babies!”
“ask me nicely.”
“please fill me up, hnngh—” you whined his name so desperately, how could he say no? “knock me up please please! i want it so-soo bad!”
and he was more than glad to give it to you, “wasn't that was easy?” rewarding you with a glob of spit into your open mouth, he was kissing you almost violently, teeth clashing and tongues making out sloppily with the full force of his dick slamming into you. god, he was so deep, your legs were shaking as you kissed, orgasm drawing closer and closer.
“gonna cum already? we’re just starting, baby.” he taunted, licking down your neck sucking heated hickeys over your skin.
“can’t help it!” you babbled, throwing your head back to give him more access. “feels tooo good!”
“yeah? come on then.” his thumb found your clit, all swollen and hard and your back arched off the bed at his touch. he kneaded into the sensitive bud, “milk my dick, show me how bad you want my cum.”
incoherent words fell of your lips as the coil in your stomach wrenched, the vigorousness of his cock in your cunt, his thumb at your clit, your nerves were on fire and you were creaming in an instant.
all hot and electric, your orgasm exploded out of you as sobbed out his name, pussy spasming and tightening up around his length.
“fuck, just like that.” a pleased grunt passed his lips, “that family you want,” he pounded you harder into the mattress, “we’ll start one, yeah?”
your body was shuddering from being overstrained but your mind was imagining you with sae’s kids and you prayed they’d all get his beautiful eyes.
“how many do you want, love?” he pinned your hamstrings down, folding you even further than you thought was humanly possible.
“four!”
“four?” he spoke stunned, one of the few times you had heard him surprised, “don’t you think you're getting ahead of yourself?” he kissed you deeply again, sucking on your tongue, “maybe we’ll get twins the first time.”
“t-twins?” you stammered with uncertainty and a sort of excitement.
“you want four but say no to twins?” he angled your hips higher, grinding cruelly into your sweet spot.
“n-no, twins are fine, hck! tw.. twins with your eyes.” you panted cravingly, racked with want and desire.
“shit… don’t say that.” his pace sped up, sharing the same visuals as you now with your baby with his teal eyes. he could see it so vividly, dead set on overfilling your womb with his seed.
“w-wait, ohmygodd— ‘m gonna cum again!” you suddenly shrieked, unknowing of when the knot in your stomach had started forming again. your eyes had started to unfocus, his face above yours blurring with the harsh punctuation of his thrusts.
he let go of your thighs, using his body to pin you in place. a hand came into yours, fingers interlocking and grasping you tight while the other found your clit again, it was pulsing and almost painfully sensitive from being stimulated so much. his unspoken words were clear through his actions, both your orgasms creeping up on you.
“coming, ‘m coming!” you squeezed your eyes shut instinctively, tensing up around him.
he clutched your palm hard, “open your eyes, look at me” umercifully fucking you faster. you did as he said, slowly prying them open as his irises met yours. “good, love.” you could see him losing himself with every move, eyes glazed over and full balls ready to unload into you.
“we’re gonna make a baby together.” he groaned softly, “show everyone you’re mine.”
your eyes turned into the back of your head as you came again, repeating his name like he was the only thing on your mind. your body quivered, feeling the syrupy mess drip down your ass on to the sheets below.
“g-gonna give you my baby, gonna breed you.” he drew a sharp breath, gradually moving slower before he was ramming deeply into you with a low groan. it was pure bliss, the warm sensation of his cum flooding your pussy. you could feel it, pooling inside your womb, already hopefully marking the beginning of your parenthood.
you whimpered weakly as he lay on top of you, stickiness and sweat clinging to the both of you. your breaths heavy as you came down, he held you near, keeping you all plugged up and stuffed.
“think we’ll really have twins?” you were whispering, throat hoarse and dried out from moaning.
“we’ll see.” his hand was still in yours. he pressed a kiss to your neck sweetly, lashes fluttering against your skin.
“sae.”
“mhm.”
“i'm thirsty.”
he pulled back, looking at you blankly before sighing.
so much for keeping you all plugged and stuffed.
he pulled out slow, coldness of the air causing mild discomfort, “anything else you need?”
“no no, that's all i need.”
“good, cause when i come back we’re going again.” he watched his cum finally begin to leak out, “can’t have you wasting any.”
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Shoko x Reader, 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, hybrids AU, rúts, heats, bonding bites, coIIars (for Ino and Nanami), use of ‘good boy’, chokíng, making you cry, rough s, cervíx smooching, NEEDY men, stopping you from running, manhandIing, dúmbifícation, lil’ surprise for Higuruma, DP, pIot, SHOKOOO cameo, oraI (fem rec.), fíngering, p talking p sIapping, Gojo’s FÉRAL, bIindfolds, law professor!Higuruma, marathons, overstím, making him WHlMPER, needy JJK men, squírting, creampíes, cúmpIay, sIight cúmfIation, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. HAPPY (belated?) LESBlAN VISlBlLITY WEEK!! Mwahahah yk I had to write ab my favorite girl too…
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - WOLF!
Hybrid type: Canis lupus
Toji’s prolonged canines sink into the side of your neck.
Your mouth drops open in a soundless scream, and your thighs are quiverin’ where his were pressed against them. From behind, the wolf hybrid was practically pinning you down using his weight - using even the heft of his abdomen.
The firm sculpture of his v-line pushed against your behind. The entire length of him pistoning inside at a dizzying pace.
Abs against your back. Pecs near your shoulders.
Head dipped into the crook of your neck- panting between every clench of your walls. It seems that the harder he was driving his hips, the more n’ more animalistic his noises were becoming—until those intimidating teeth of his made an appearance to mark you as his.
Truly his.
When you entered the local Hybrid Companionship Program, you’d never have guessed you’d end up like this. Though you certainly weren’t complaining.
But Toji had always known you were his mate.
It’d started on a Friday night; your boss had insisted on yet another drinking party, and you’d been strong-armed into joining a few awkward co-workers in pouring drinks and pretending that you cared so much more about what Abe from finance had to say about the state of the economy and how it related to lax dress codes at work.
Particularly your dress code.
Ugh.
You’re throwing the drunken man inside the taxi with more force than necessary—and handing over a large tip to the driver in front.
You might hate the guy, but leaving him on the pavement like this might just get your pay docked…
As a few more of your co-workers pile into the taxi, they ask you whether you’re joining.
Your eyes flicker from the tangled body of Abe inside…to the clear night out…back to Abe inside. It’s with something akin to relief that you’re saying you’d rather walk—it wasn’t too far of a trek anyways. It’s just then that Abe babbles something about it being unsafe and he’d oh-so-gladly make some room for you…
You’re closing the taxi door and not caring whether you catch Abe’s toes.
It was during this night walk - which in and of itself was rather uneventful - that you passed by the Tokyo Hybrid Center. The hub for all things hybrid-related: from informational seminars, to campaigning, to employment opportunities, and even a shelter for hybrids that were on the run from illegal fighting rings, etc.
And it was outside this massive building that you saw the sign.
Hot hybrids 5 minutes away want to meet you!
HYBRID COMPANIONSHIP PROGRAM:
Are you searching for a new roommate? Are you looking to broaden your friend group beyond simple human backgrounds?
Join our Hybrid Companionship Program to get suited with hybrids that wish to make new human friends. Deepen relations between humans and hybrids!
Contact +69 XXX XXX XXXX for more information (or just walk in!)
You’d walked in.
It’d taken about a week to plough through the columns of forms and meetings with officials of the program. And after you finally managed to complete them, you waited…and waited…and waited…
Months later, you’d been entertaining the thought that perhaps they just found you unsuitable for every hybrid that walked through those doors. Which stung a little, you admit, for Abe had been particularly irritating at that stuffy office lately- and you’d been itching for a new friend. But you could get through, surely—
That’s when you got a call from the program, informing you that you’d been matched with a grey wolf hybrid.
That’s how you became friends with Toji Fushiguro.
An unsure, bumbling friendship.
One that meant - a few months later - you found yourself like this—
Nails attempting to claw into the mattress - it’s drawing a few jagged lines down the silken sheets that you swear you’d just washed—though that wasn’t anything Toji cared about. He couldn’t even think.
He couldn’t feel anything other than the soft, suctioning sensation of your pussy- the way it was dragging his inches back in even as he pulled out. The cutest squelches leave you every time he’s pushing in, in, in—
And Toji himself pulls his face out from the crook of your neck.
He’s leaving a garish bite mark behind- and the wolf hybrid laps at it a few times. Proud of his work. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s been wanting to do this since the moment he met you.
And then he’s catching sight of your lecherous reactions- the way you’re squirmin’ away from him and whimpering at the stinging feeling. Oh…how it makes him snicker.
Before you can register it, his right hand reaches in front of you and tenderly intertwines his fingers with yours, “How cute…” How sweet. How loving. “But don’t you think you can run away from me, doll.” In a single split-second, Toji has both of your hands pulled behind your back- and your pretty face collapsing onto the pillows.
Spit smears out of your mouth and on the pillowcases, and you’re keening as he bends your hands behind your back.
Holding onto them-
“I’d never—ngh, run away…” You scoff.
“Good.” He’s exposing your freshly-made bite mark to his hot pants. “Because m’not stopping anytime soon.”
Then in the next few strokes, Toji’s straightening himself up as he keeps drilling into you from behind - maintaining a strong hold on your wrists. Pulling them behind you. Leaving you completely at the mercy of his rugged, pummeling cock. Just pushing and pushing—
He glues his muscular thighs to the backs of yours- and keeps his inky-black happy trail scruffing at your ass cheeks. The way you were arched in this new position meant that he was hittin’ spots you didn’t even know existed. And most of all, his bulbous tip was shoved just a few inches deeper to make a firm indent at your cervix.
You’re whining as you feel the intrusion. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck—yes. More. I can take it.”
“More?” He asks questioningly.
Nodding and nodding.
“Careful what you wish for, honey.”
Though, despite Toji’s warning tone, his fluffy tail swishes behind him in delight. How he loved losing his senses in your pussy.
Your warm, welcoming pussy.
You’re squeezing his thick cock in surprise once you feel something settle atop your head- and it takes you longer than it should to realize that Toji Fushiguro had just reached his right leg in front of him and stepped down on your crown.
Your jaw drops at the utter audacity.
“H-holy shit…”
And then he’s increasing his pace, he’s exercising his immense strength even further.
He’s fucking you like he was furious with you - like he was making up for however many months he couldn’t get his hands on his precious mate. Something deeeeep, and carnal, inside him yips with glee at the fact that he had you like this—choking on his cock and begging for more. More and more.
Toji’s rational brain was overcome with…something he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.
Some strange part of him that needed to stuff himself so deep inside you that you remember him even once he’s pulled out. Some strange part of him that wanted his essence to be so combined with yours that everyone else that encounters you knows you’re his mate- and vice versa. He wanted you badly—always has. And even the slightest bounces of yours hips - whenever you were fucking back into him - made a part of him crack- he couldn’t stand to break contact with you for a single fucking second.
Toji tugs you by the arms - so far back that your ass cheeks were glued to his toned pelvis. And you have nowhere to run but the stirring motions of his cock.
In the hazy noise of your bodies meeting, the bed frame begins to crack!
“What’s the matter?” He croons. And after a few more vicious strokes render you near-speechless, he chuckles to himself. “Dick got your tongue?”
“You’re s-sooo—” But it was so hard to speak with the way his flared tip swabbed into your sweetest spots. He pinpointed even the ones your gooey channel kept hidden, and then ran the veiny underside of his length down those glossed walls- probing against your g-spot with such raw fervour. “Ngh.”
You were being pushed back n’ forth.
Manhandled back n’ forth.
And he doesn’t want you moving away from him for a single second.
The sheer force of his hips was enough that your sweaty scalp nearly bangs! against the wooden headboard. Toji notices the near-contact, and he’s lugging back both your bodies without a single word. “Hey hey- c’mere—where’d you think you’re going, huh?”
“S’not my fault…” Big tears run down your cheeks.
“Yeah yeah- now shush n’ take it”
Sweaty and tangled up as one.
And if that wasn’t enough- Toji runs his thickened cock out of your cunt. Slapping it against your puffy pussylips and probin’ at your clit for a few thrusts- before pushing his solid inches back in and pumping away until you were utterly stupid. Utterly babbling.
His ballsack ends up plastered against your folds and plap-plap-plapping.
You’re feeling the exact moment that they’re then clenching- an explosion of creamy white cum that drips into your glossy channel.
Wad after wad.
Ribbon after ribbon.
Your walls expand with the addition. “Oh p-pleeeease- fuck! So much…” Your mouth waters, “How can you even…so much.”
Webbing up your poor insides, drenching them pure white. His bawlin’ divot was also just the perfect shape to probe those droplets of cum into your tender orifices, smearing them with his length thereafter. Again and again. Toji needs merely a few thrusts of him fuckin’ his warm seed into you - before you’re hurtling into your own orgasm, too. And it’s so strong that it makes lights flash behind your eyes—
Through the white-hot pleasure, you feel a set of canines sink into your neck. Again.
This time, on the other side.
“Heh…now they’re gonna know for sure.”
.
.
.
It was inevitable that you’d be the talk of the office.
The moment you stepped through those swivelling doors: all eyes were on you.
From the bored receptionist that looked away from his computer, to the wizened doorman whose brows raised, to that damn Abe who’d been drinking at the water fountain at that precise moment you walked into the lobby. The interns openly gaped, of course.
But it was nothing against the way that Abe physically spat out the water he’d been holding in his mouth- right onto some unfortunate intern who looked as though he was very serious about quitting this job.
With a few hasty apologies, the bane of your office life was walking towards you.
Then perhaps he’d noticed just how large the canines that’d made that mating mark seemed to be. Perhaps he’d seen all those accompanying nips and nail marks wherever your skin was visible. Or perhaps he was seeing Toji—standing right behind you and glowering at the man.
You looked as though you’d been thrown to the wolves, and you’d brought one right to work.
“Toji, I told you—” You coo at him. “You don’t need to accompany me all the way here.”
“Oh, I think I do.” He murmurs.
In front of him, Abe starts backing up.
Looking straight at him, he says. “Have a great day at work…”
Grinning a grin that showcases every dangerous tooth.
“-my mate.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - White-collar man!
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris
“F-forgive me if I’m a little…unsure about this, my love.” You’ve never heard your perfect husband tremble in such a tone—something unsure, something so unlike the eloquent nature you’ve grown so used to.
He was stuttering.
Why? Perhaps because of the way you were sneakin’ your luscious cunt down his length. Perhaps because of the way you’re feeling his prominent vein sneak down your walls- squeezing him where he was girthiest. Or perhaps because of the collar you’d put ‘round him.
It was a throw-away comment, really.
You’d been seated beside your husband late at night; talking into the early hours of the morning—everything from your favorite dates to the best restaurants in Tokyo to…kinks that the two of you have never tried before. And your husband being a dog hybrid - a German Shepherd type, to be specific - you admit that you may have thought of something…to do…with making your husband don a collar.
And Nanami Kento being the perfect gentleman, was always happy to entertain your wildest ideas. At least once.
Though by the way he was affected by the thick faux-leather around his neck- you’re guessing that this might not be the last time…
“What’s the matter?” You watch as he brings up one finger and tugs on the tightened restraint. Underneath, Nanami’s Adam’s apple bobs—“Too tight for you, Kento?”
“Not at all.” He fervently shakes his head. “It’s just…”
“Just what, baby?” Giving him yet another stir of your hips. Pap-papping! down his swollen inches.
In response, the large hybrid bucks his pelvis up into yours- letting the skin of his thighs stick against your own, letting the bulbous edge of his cock veer in even deeper. So much of his length; it felt never-ending.
Nanami has to use up every single shred of will within him to keep his head from tipping backwards, “It’s just that- hck! that it feels so good that…” Jaw clenching at the way your walls kept clenching harder n’ harder around his length—he wanted to whine. But with that damn collar on him, his airway kept getting restricted. “-that i-it almost feels unfair.”
Alternating between a sensual, soft slide down his cock- and then speeding up when it felt like he was getting too clear-headed.
“What do you mean, Kento?” Genuine confusion.
“It just means that I’m over here feeling all good because of this collar and your- ngh—” Gesturing vaguely at your cunt - though that didn’t seem to be enough, and the blond man can’t stop himself from pushing aside your legs to let his hand between them. Running his thumb eagerly over your clit - thorough, steady strokes—just the way you liked it. “-your pussy. But am I making you feel good enough, my love?”
Your brows furrow, “Of course you are, Kento-”
“No, but…good enough.” He insists. And then his handsome face draws nearer, and Nanami’s lips are catching onto yours. “M’the type of man that needs my wife to feel better than me, darlin’.”
“Kento—o-oh.” Entire body wracking with carnal shivers at the feeling of his thumb pressin’ down even harder. Like some cute heart-shaped button, he’s pouring out all his love with stroke after stroke after stroke.
And he continues, “I need you to feel so good that you almost can’t take it.” He growls- and for a split-second you’re seeing a flash of those intimidating canines that made you weak in the knees. Nanami’s ears perk up in alertness as his hips start rammin’ equally as fast to meet your pace, “I need you to feel dizzy with pleasure- hear me?”
“Fuck-”
“I need you to feel better than me.”
“Oh…” Head lolling behind- you’re not getting too far before he’s craning his neck and catching your mouth in a sloppy kiss.
Golden brows furrowing, “Mmm—hear me? I need you to be aching, I need you to be fucked stupid- I need you to be mindless with pleasure…” And then his fingers are briefly letting go of your sensitive nub to pinch. “Because that’s what good husbands do.”
Stimulating your unsuspecting clit.
Running his crowned tip into every spot he knew you liked.
Nanami had his body practically plastered to yours as if he lived for this - he wanted to fuck you numb with pleasure, and it didn’t matter if he had to run his vein-covered shaft fucking raw on your walls to do it. Desperate. Dominant. Purely for your service. It didn’t matter if his collar was getting tighter between all the pants—if he couldn’t breathe. It didn’t matter if his limbs were getting tired. It didn’t matter if his hybrid tail was wagging his emotions all on display.
It takes a few more vulgar, sloppy strokes of him pushin’ away his translucent precum into your deepest depths before Nanami speaks again. This time, he jerks his head ever-so-slightly up into the air and sniffs. “And this good husband can also smell that you’re close.”
You’re breathless, “Close?” It wasn’t that you didn’t trust his honed hybrid senses but-
Fuck.
And then it’s hitting you.
“Sh-shiiiiit—” Without you even realizing it - it’d been building up without you even noticing - you’re wracking your way into your orgasm.
Like shards of glass scattering; bolts of pleasure build up at your pussy n’ then course through your veins. Sending deep pangs of euphoria up to your brain- your mind’s just a little fried when you’re elongating your high with primal bucks and bounces down Nanami’s ruthless cock. Up and up. Down until the scruff of his tawny-brown happy trail scratches against your outer folds.
Your head finally lunges back, your body’s arching into him.
And the only thing you can think to do is reach out and hold onto Nanami’s collar—
It’s like your lifeline. And your husband’s brows slightly raise as you clasp onto it, cutting off his breathing ever-so-slightly at the crescendo of your orgasm: you were choking him and he was liking it far more than he expected.
It’s all Nanami can do to gnaw down on the flap of his lower lip and continue, “This…fuck.”
“This is my pleasure, Kento.” Babbling out - you don’t know whether to blame the fogginess that your high brought upon you or not. “I really like it when you- hah, do your best to make me feel good. I really like that you—”
Pressing your lips to his.
“-make me feel so- fuck, loved.”
You can feel Nanami smiling into the kiss. His throat tremors with the signal that he was about to say something more- but you’re quickly cutting him off with a tug at his collar.
Finishing off, “And I really fucking love when you wear this collar f’me.”
Between your pussylips, his bulging cock twitches in arousal.
The most wicked grin spreads across Nanami’s handsome features, and he’s bringing his hand up to the collar- for a second there, you think he’s about to remove it. And you’re getting ready for the sensual entrapment to fall off—but instead, he takes his index and taps on the little loop that the collar had.
One for the leash.
“Then why don’t we take it a step further, darling?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Here, pussy pussy…
Hybrid type: Felis catus
Everyone knew that Geto Suguru was a cat hybrid.
One of those Abyssinian breeds that were rare and revered: he often prowled down the hallways of his temple, as silent as death itself, his tall figure casting shadows in every corner. Two upturned ears and a tail behind his chiseled frame. Because as beautiful as Geto Suguru was—he was just as dangerous.
And perhaps you knew better than anyone.
After all, as his right-hand member of the Association, you followed Geto wherever he went. To every dojo he visited to make sure that the other Association members were in top form for a battle; of course, it’d end up with him defeating them all and piling on the fatigued bodies as a lesson. To every home he had to visit, a mere smile of his being enough to intimidate even the most rebellious of ex-members (there were rarely any left breathing) into staying quiet. Perhaps even joining their circle once more.
To every meeting he ordered, seating before rows upon rows of men and women and everyone in-between—bowed at the waist reverently between who they saw as a deity himself.
Because in many ways, he was.
And here you were as a mere human before him: on your knees, mouth gaped as he trickled out more ropey splashes of cum.
Such sheer volumes of it flooding the cavern of your mouth, ending up dribbling down the sides of your lips in satiny ribbons. After he finishes tuggin’ his swollen cock a few more times to milk out his final beads of cum, Geto taps his blushing tip straight on your lips, your tongue, your cheek - just to watch your expression threaten to contort in surprise.
And then he’s setting his length free and bringing down a hand to cup your chin.
The roughened fatness of his thumb wipin’ away a glittering bead of syrup. “There, there…” Geto hums, “Think that pussy’s sorry enough now, gorgeous?”
You attempt to speak, but your mouth’s too full. “Mmm—mmpf.”
“That’s what I thought.” He snickers meanly to himself. And before you know it, that thumb of his that’d been nicely roverin’ down the edges of your stained lips starts pushing inwards- starts pushing his digit deep inside your sloppy mouth and reaching for the very back of your throat. It makes some predatory part of him sing with glee to watch your eyes tear up, and your nose crinkle at the intrusion. “But I don’t know…I still don’t think she’s sorry enough.”
Your eyes shoot open, lashes heavy with tears.
Still not sorry enough?
Still not sorry enough?
Where did this even begin—all because you’d had the audacity to fake it.
It’d been another night cooped up in Geto Suguru’s grand quarters, which had quickly become your favorite area of his hideout, and he’d been fucking you long and hard aaaaaall night. He’d been keeping his ravenous tip lodged nearly where your throat was, and driven you crazily over the edge more times than you could count.
And as a result of that, maybe you’d gotten a little…sloppy.
Before you knew it, Geto was tappin’ away at your clit with his thumb- intending to send you both hurtling into your highs. But being so overstimulated, you couldn’t help but put on a little show faking it- hell, you weren’t even sure whether you could catch on at this point.
Yet you should’ve known that the incredible senses of a cat hybrid would always know.
Always.
And so here you were: with your mouth stuffed till the brim, time and time again, in punishment for attempting to con the leader. Whilst your cunt throbbed away animalistically between your legs-
“I can smell that ungrateful pussy of yours growing wetter.” The hybrid’s keen nose twitches- sweeter. The room seemed to get so much sweeter - like a candy factory - whenever you grew more aroused.
“I- hck! can’t help it…” With monumental effort, you’re speaking through the fingers he had probing between your kiss-swollen lips.
“Yes, you can.” He spits. “Does that ungrateful pussy think she deserves my cock?”
You can’t stop yourself—you’re nodding and nodding. Resting on the heels of your feet and grindin’ back against those mounds - it’s the only sort of friction you’re able to get right now. And by the way that Geto’s dexterous tail was swishing from side-to-side, then it seems that he didn’t quite appreciate that, either…
And so with such a mean snarl upon his handsome face- he pulls out the thumb that’d been massaging your tongue. Getting sucked. And without a single warning, Geto grabs the back of your scalp and rams your mouth down his cock- all the way till the base. Until the tufts of his jet-black hair was scraping your nose, and you’re moaning needily around him. You needed him so badly.
“Tch- seems she really does want my cock.” With raised brows, Geto looks down at where you were pushing n’ pressing yourself against your feet. How it covered every single spot your pussy touched with a glistenin’ layer of slick. “Fine…”
Your eyes shoot open. Looking up at him pleadingly—
“Fine, that silly pussy can have my cock…” Geto’s grip on you grows even tighter - searing. “She can have my loooong, thick cock.” He leans down to whisper in your ear, “But she better know that I am very angry at her.”
And then you’re being pulled off his hard erection with a pwah!
Soon enough, you’re finding yourself laid flatly against the leader’s futon.
His powerful hips pinning yours down, his long hair loosening around the two of you like a curtain- his muscular tail keeping one of your legs pinned to the side as he presses your thighs open n’ shovels you with his ravenous inches.
From the glistening crown of his shaft—down, down, down until those familiar curls surrounding his hilt.
Geto fucks you like he’s furious at you-
Like he’s aiming to leave a few purple bruises on that cervix of yours, like he’s stretching out your walls so they remember his exact size. He wants you to feel him between your legs even after he’s pulled out - maybe that’d be enough of a reminder to keep your damn pussy in line. And even as he thinks about it, the cat hybrid’s hastening his hips.
Piston after piston after piston.
His fingers dart upwards to grab at your clit- and you’re genuinely sobbing as he squeezes it. Somewhere in the muddled rationale of your brain, you’re sure that he’s fucking you just to make you cry.
With his other hand, Geto brings that spit-coated thumb up to his mouth n’ licks it clean. Then his lip curls, “Disgusting. This fuckin’ pussy doesn’t even deserve what m’giving her.” Pinching your throbbing nub once more, “Does she?”
“I-I—” You bawl. “I don’t-”
“What’s that?” Another pinch. “Say it louder so that she’s hearing too-”
“I don’t!”
“Damn right.” Geto twitches his nose once your cunt simply grows even wetter, “Hear that?”
Whatever noises he’s wrenching from between your legs as he fucks you- it seems to be enough of a answer to him. And then he’s hitting your sodden womb with a smack!
“Shouldn’t even be fucking her- tch, not after she went against her leader.” Geto muses to himself, “She should be thanking the- hah, universe that I’m just in rut.”
Cold water pours down your body - or perhaps that was just Geto’s sticky precum dribbling out in puddles. “You’re in rut?” You gasp.
“Problem—?”
“N-not at all.” In fact, you’re spreading your thighs apart and bucking into his battering thrusts. Even more. Such greed; despite how well Geto was fucking you…you’re still yearning for more of him. Lashes fluttering with tears, you don’t think you’ve ever been more honest in your entire life as you plead—“I want you to f-fuck me until you’re shooting blanks—” Reaching around his toned waist and tuggin’ on his tail. “-Suguru.”
His breath hitches.
And then he purrs.
“Fine, you’re forgiven…” Before elation can hit you, he twists his fingers on your sodden clit. Hard.
“O-oh-”
“-if you squirt f’me.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - RUT RUT RUT.
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris
He couldn’t help himself.
He honestly couldn’t.
Choso Kamo has no idea what’s gotten into him.
One morning, he’s waking up with the most painful boner of his entire life—and it seems that you’d gone out to the store bright n’ early. So that’s no big deal. Shit happens. He could handle it all by himself: he’d flounced out of bed and headed straight into the bathroom for a cold shower - having his own hand wrapped around his cock wouldn’t feel nearly as good as having yours.
And so that problem had been taken care of.
Or so Choso had thought.
The next little (not-so-little) issue had popped up almost immediately after he’d exited the shower.
All freshened-up, Choso was drying his shoulder-length hair with a towel as he walked into the bedroom. And then he’d seen it.
Then he’d mindlessly cast his gaze around the room and ended up dropping it onto…the bucket of laundry that he was meant to fold today. And other than the nagging guilt of putting it off, he’d been fixated on one thing: the lacy black panties that you’d left on top of the pile.
Without thinking twice, Choso’s hybrid tail was wagging. Without thinking even once, Choso’s hand had cast out and grabbed it.
And brought it to his face to sniff—
Then lo and behold, he was sporting an utterly painful boner that made the hybrid rush straight back into the bathroom. Except…this time, it was one that couldn’t be willed away no matter how many cold buckets of water he poured over his head, no matter how many times he thought about unsexy practices like taxes or…basically anything that wasn’t related to you, or anything you wore, or anything you said.
He’d been forced to wrap a guilty hand around his cock and jerk himself to ecstasy before he could leave the bathroom again.
This time, as long as he avoided looking at your panties on the laundry pile, he was able to leave the room without popping a boner.
Kidding.
Choso Kamo made two steps before he was feeling something akin to withdrawals—and soon enough, he was finding himself elbow-deep in the laundry bucket, shuffling around to hunt each and every pair of panties he could find. And then—and then he was speed-walking to the laundry room itself, grabbing every single scrap of overpriced lace he could find: washed and unwashed.
Dropping it all down on the bed before tearing his shorts down and pulling his cock raw. Tail wagging. Palm red. Mouth gaping open.
What was happening to him?
What was happening to his body?
Why was he feeling so…
But no matter how many times he was cummin’ all over your scattered panties on the bed - it still wasn’t enough for him.
And that’s the state you found your poor, poor boyfriend in when you came home.
.
.
.
Squelch!
“J-just a little more…” Choso’s voice comes out botched. Hot breaths sticking to the column of your neck, making the skin ‘round that area feel sticky.
Everything about this was such a mess.
Such a mess.
The bedsheets sticking to your back. The cum flowing between your quivering legs. Even Choso’s movements- the smallest, sloppiest semi-thrusts that were all he could manage. Anything more and he was on the verge of cumming blanks—so now he merely had his ruby-red tip stuffed between your pussylips n’ delicately shifting your sweet spots aside.
Large tears start up at his waterline and end up flowing down his cheeks. “Just a little more and I think m’gonna stop, baby.”
“No need to rush, Cho.” You coo reassuringly from beneath him. Reaching one hand up, you wipe away some of Choso’s tears. “Take as long as you need.”
His hybrid tail wags behind him as he takes in your words. You always did treat him so tenderly.
“Yes, but I p-promise…” He whimpers. Such a sweet, sweet noise hatching at the back of his throat as he bucks his hips backwards- n’ draws a gluey vertical line down the expanse of your cervix. “Just one more and m’gonna- hck! stop.”
“Of course.” Pushing back on the dark brown bangs that stuck to his forehead, “But remember that you’re in rut, baby. I don’t know if it’ll- haaah, end so easily.”
“But I’ve gotta.”
Voice cracking.
Desperate—just so desperate.
His hips are stuttering forwards at an incredible pace, lashing out into every hidden ridge n’ crevice deep inside you. Even more powerful because of his hybrid status. The toned edges of his pelvis are practically gluing to you—feeling sleek all over with a layer of sheen that escapes from the top of his ruddied tip. Even though Choso wasn’t exactly cumming at the moment, he was bawling out such volumes of precum that made it feel as though he was. And he thumbs it inside you with a whimper.
“I n-need to. This has to be the last one.” Almost breathing. Almost speaking to himself rather than you. He continues between punctured thrusts, “You wanna know why? Otherwise m’just gonna keep cumming, baby…”
Your eyes widen. “What do you mean, Choso?”
Hiccups crackle at the back of his throat. His ears start to droop.
And with a trembling expression, Choso thumbs in the last of his translucent sap. Then he’s holding onto the base of his cock and funneling you with it- you think he might be holdin’ onto himself to better guide his probing tip into your sweet spots…but no.
No, you’re quickly coming to realize that Choso was grasping onto himself solely because he needed to stop himself from cumming so much. Needed to.
There’s a twitch between his eyebrows, and he bites down on his lower lip as he waves off yet another high. “I-I just can’t seem to stop.” And it wasn’t just that pussydrunken tone of his - Choso sounded absolutely gone, ruined, wrecked by this point. “I don’t know what’s gotten over me—but I just wanna fuck you all full until I physically can’t cum anymore…”
“Oh—” Your moans are long and hollowed.
“I just wanna start shooting blanks- maybe that’d get me to stop fucking you finally.” Between the slurps and squelches of your cunt gulping him up, he manages to echo his words. “It’s just so addictive, baby…” Pulling out the raw, sap-glossed edge of his shaft- he draws a few hearts on top of your pussy before funneling back in. “I just wanna fuck you like a damn dog-”
“Oh!” Because at that very moment, Choso leans forwards and bites a good marking at the crook of your neck. “Easy there, boy.”
Hips only speeding up. Hips only milking himself even more…“I just wanna watch my girl’s pussy get covered in my cum. Flood with it.” He sniffles, “I just wanna ngh- fuck you and fuck you—” Attacking your mouth with a sloppy, passionate kiss. “-again and again and again- I can’t fucking stop myself.”
And Choso had long since been pussydrunken- his rut just made him extra-sensitive to those lecherous sensations.
But now you were almost as cockdrunk.
Jaw dropping. Heels hooking around his waist. Pupils shaping into hearts—Choso takes one single look at that expression, and his entire body’s wracking in visceral shivers.
That animalistic side to him taking over as he fucks you long and hard- “Baby, I think m’gonna cum again soon…” He whispers in your ear. “And after I cum again- ngh, m’gonna need you to put me back in my senses before I go another round. And then another—and another. Because soon enough m’gonna be fucking you for daaaaaays.”
“I don’t mind.” You mutter, more to yourself.
“What was that?” He asks.
And you’re shaking your head: you knew that Choso thought you couldn’t take it with your human stamina. He wanted to go for days. You wanted to go for days…“Nothing at all.” Hooking your arms around his neck, “Cum inside me, baby.”
It takes only a few more vulgar strokes before he’s finishing off—so overstimulated by this point that it’s just a few pearly-white beads of sap. Just a few trickles of hot cum. Before nothing more can escape out of him- and Choso’s merely bucking into you for pleasure, riding out the dry waves of his orgasm. Cumming dry.
Peak after peak.
Rollin’ his dried-up cock into your gooey depths.
He shakes as his bliss overcomes him. The prettiest tears dripping down his cheeks and hanging off of his pointed chin.
Soon enough, he’s fucked himself limp on your perfect pussy.
And all it takes is a mere nudge to flip your positions; with Choso seats back against the pillows, and you straddling his reddened hips. Bouncin’ your cunt down his thick cock.
His eyes damn-near bulge out of his skull. Though you can see his long tail wagging happily- “But baby, can you—”
“I can take it.” You smirk. “So be a good puppyboy f’me and beg.”
“W-woof…”
A rut could last a week.
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Easy, Tiger…
Hybrid type: Panthera tigris
Now, it was no secret that your boyfriend is a tiger hybrid.
Endangered. Enormous. The rarest amongst even the rare hybrids; his striped tail and broad figure drew stares wherever the two of you went. Often, onlookers were torn between admiration and intimidation as they gazed upon the great hybrid- the great hybrid that caught their stares, crumpled them up, and flung them right back at them at 308 mph with a single glare…
Needless to say, Ryomen Sukuna’s temper was one befitting of a tiger hybrid.
And most people knew not to mess with your boyfriend. Most people knew not to so much as nudge his patience.
Except for you, that is.
“Meow for me, Kuna.” You didn’t care if you got on his nerves.
“Fuck off.”
“Pleeeeease—?”
“What sort of fuckin’ tiger hybrid meows?”
You’re seated on Sukuna’s lap while he tries to work on some ol’ project; knees straddling his waist, back facing his laptop, and your fingers dug into his coral-pink hair. It was just so soft and bouncy underneath your touch, and soon enough your hands found themselves edging into the sinuous area of his ears.
Tiger ears.
“H-hah…” He shivers. “Watch your hands, woman.” Comes Sukuna’s low snarl. His breath tickles the column of your neck, and in your peripheral vision you see his long canines point. “Y’know damn well that I’m sensitive there.”
“Oh, are you?” With a dramatic gasp, you’re turning to face him. And laughter bubbles to your throat as you notice the irritated tick in his jaw already. “Sensitive? And here I thought you were some big, bad tiger hybrid.”
Sukuna looks at you incredulously, “Damn right I am.”
“Oh yeah?” And then your fingers are gliding up the mountains of his ears. Right from the base, and then up to the very tip-
“H-hey—fuck.” A carnal shiver wracks through him, and Sukuna’s striped tail sways from side-to-side behind him. “That doesn’t prove anything?”
And then right back down again—and then…fuck, and then you’re finding that good spot behind his ears that makes him shutter his eyes and lean into your touch. Like some damn housecat, Sukuna’s letting out a slow, satisfied purr as your fingers continue their fatal ministrations. He’d slap himself if it didn’t feel so good.
Through the slight gaps in his vision, he spots a victorious grin spread across your pretty lips. “Meow f’me, Kuna.”
Leaning deeper into your touch. His lips purse, “M-me…” And then Sukuna’s eyes shoot open as he realizes just what he was about to do.
Just what you were close to making him do.
A fucking tiger hybrid and he’s meowing for you?!
Now that can’t be.
Before you know it, one of Sukuna’s large, bulky hands reaches up and smushes your cheeks together- how cute. Those honed nails of his prickle over your skin - just light enough to send goosebumps scattering - and then he’s running it down to grab you by your throat.
“You exceed your limits, brat.”
You smirk n’ lean down to kiss him on the nose. “Easy, tiger.”
And the thing is…Sukuna’s heart jumps to his throat - and his cock - the moment he reads that expression on your face. The type of smugness that told him- you wanted to be fucked back into your place.
He huffs. Silly little human—
Just a few minutes later, the massive hybrid has you stood and shoved against the edge of his work desk. Polished oak pushing against your body, Sukuna’s front pressing into you from behind; even the slightest squirms mean you can feel his erect cock. Those important documents his assistant, Uraume, told him were confidential go flying everywhere the minute he’s clawin’ aside your sodden panties- ripping them.
Giving his rock-hard erection a good squeeze before shoving down his grey sweatpants and shovelling himself raw.
Not the barest bit of stretchin’ out your elastic hole. Before you feel himself fitting in until the very hilt-
“Oh-ohhhh—” Your hands are shooting out in front of you, dragging faint nail marks into the wood. Mouth dropping agonizingly as the delicious curve of his length starts smearing down your goopy walls.
Just a single semi-thrust. Just a lurch of his globular tip- swipin’ down every sweet cranny and orifice without even trying. Your back arches into him, “Kuna, that feels so- mmpf!”
Before you know it, one of his large hands comes up to cover your mouth. “Shut it, girlie. M’trying to make you meow for me.”
Lashes fluttering, “M-me?”
Yet another rugged slam! The luscious tip of his shaft opens up every crevice and seeps hot precum into your every pore. Sukuna always managed to fuck you so agonizingly well—and even now, he was rendering your body weak and tremblin’ with just a few hits to the back of your pussy. Back and forth. Back and forth.
One of his roughened hands glides down your back until it rests on the base of your spine. Arching you even more.
The sensual end of his shaft curved up juuuuuust a little upwards and dragged his drivelling tip down the roof of your cunt. And you can’t help but moan out-
“Now now.” A slam of his left hand down on your stuffed pussy. Sukuna cranes his head to the side and watches those bloated lips of yours quiver- adorable. “What did I say about you stayin’ quiet?”
“I-I didn’t realize you were seriou- mmm.” He’s pressing his right palm further against your face.
He whispers, “Or m’slapping this ungrateful cunt once for every word.”
Pushing against you. Pinning you beneath him. Keeping your restless hips in place - no matter how much you’re bucking and begging for more, Sukuna’s the one in control of how his solid, veiny inches were dragging in and out of your pussy. Again and again.
And as he’s pummeling into you as if he was furious—Sukuna spits out mercilessly, “Don’t tell me I’ve gotta fuck you stupid to make you shut up?” His tone was low and dangerous- one of his knees shoves between your legs n’ spreads them even wider for easier access. “Are you this pussy?” When you don’t answer, he’s letting his hips run even deeper and massage your ass cheeks with his scruff of pink happy trail. “Huh?”
Confusion and lust befogging your brain- “N-no…?”
He’s puncturing each syllable with thrusts- honing in deep at the back of your gooey pussy. You’re openin’ up so readily for him. “Are you the one I want meowing?”
Ribbons of spit fall from your lips and soil his palm. “No.”
“And so are you supposed to speak?”
“No-”
“Then why the fuck are you speaking now?”
Even now.
That little—
Your jaw drops as you realize that you’d just been baited into wasting your breath, your words- and your head swivels ‘round to look at him.
And oh, what a sight…
You’re only met with Sukuna’s cocky smile and your stinging pussy being punished with three more consecutive slap-slap-slaps that send shockwaves of pain and pleasure through your veins. The entire expanse of your body seems to be set alight. The tips of your toes are curling inwards-
And as if your body couldn’t have been any more unstable; Sukuna’s powerful tail hooks around your right calf and maneuvers it as if you were nothing but a pretty lil’ doll beneath him. Just the cutest little mewls dripping out of you once his hybrid appendage drags your leg up onto the table and keeps it there—so pliable for him. This sudden change in angle makes his thick, vein-covered cock rover even deeper.
With the burgeoning end of his tip, he’s pinpointing every single nook and bundle of nerves.
“I don’t wanna hear another peep out of you, m’here to listen to this pretty pussy. And I don’t care if I have to fuck you stupid to listen to this kitty…” Sukuna warns. And as your chest heaves, he’s removing his hand from your mouth- you can moan n’ mewl as much as you wanted.
But rest assured that he’s still keeping his claws ‘round your throat and making you whimper as those pointed tips graze your tender skin. Marking you. “I…mmm.”
It’s almost too much for him to handle: watching you chew on the inside of your cheek as you held your words back.
And with a gleeful smile, the tiger hybrid leans back n’ coos at your pussy - folds glistening with the excess of his precum clinging onto you, the outer edges of your cunt bloated from how many times he’s slamming and slamming against them. Until the area of his pelvis burns red. “Heeeeere kitty kitty~” You’ve never heard him speak to you like that…“This girl here’s jealous because m’giving you special treatment. Why don’tcha show her who owns this cock?”
“Kun- oh.” Pressing your lips together as the fire starts sizzling at the pit of your stomach.
“Because you do own this cock- me, don’t you?” Giving you yet another spank! “I’d meow for you.”
“Pussydrunk…” You mutter- only to be hit with another barrage of slap-slaps that were just pushing you closer towards the edge.
“Why dont’cha make a scene? Make some noise f’me?” And then his left hand dips between your legs and ends up grazing between your pussylips. Finding that button of your clit. “Why don’tcha meow—?”
And all it takes is one squeeze- one.
Before light explodes behind your closed eyelids - when did you even shut them - and you’re suddenly being propelled into your high. Your orgasm thunders between your legs n’ shoots hot dopamine through every vein, vessel, and atom.
It takes over your body in a wave- harsh and fast.
And as the torrents of it take over you, Sukuna’s keeping a firm hand latched onto your pussy and rolling over your throbbing clit. Meanwhile his cock accelerates in and out to bash you through every incredible peak.
“Yeah- yeah.” Sukuna hisses into your ear, breath scorching enough that it causes your surrounding skin to perspire. The space between you two was non-existent and sizzling. “Yeahhhh, feels pretty good, huh?”
His tiger tail pushes down on your restless leg- keeping you hiked up. And Sukuna’s ruthless hits only get more and more accurate by the second: your g-spot was likely reddened n’ stinging from the inside.
“Feels nice to meow? S’this what you wanted so bad—” Those sweet, sweet noises of you getting even wetter as he fucked you through your orgasm…like music to his ears. “And awwww, look at that- heh…” Sukuna’s thumb taps down on your pulsating clit, “She’s even purring f’me.”
The two most prominent veins down his shaft make you mewl as he’s bouncing off every good spot. And you claw down his table as you keen—“Y-you’re going to- oh. M’gonna get you back for this, gonna milk you dry just wait and watch.”
Without a second of hesitation, you reach up and graze your fingertips across his twitching ears.
And at that very moment, you feel his bulging cock swell even impossibly bigger inside of you.
He purrs, hybrid tail pulling you both closer together. “Easy, tiger.”
♡ INO TAKUMA - LET THE DOGS OUT!
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris
“You’re wrong.”
“I’m right.”
“You’re wrong-”
“I’m wrong.”
“You’re right-” Ino blinks. “No, wait—”
But you’re jumping on it just as quickly. “Awww, thank you for telling me what I already know, Taku.” You’re running your hands through his tawny golden hair, scratching behind the hybrid’s golden retriever ears- dammit, you knew he was weak for this. How evil….
And he can only manage out a half-hearted growl.
To which you’re raising your brows, and it’s enough to make Ino nuzzle the crook of your neck. Hiding the pretty pout that was surely taking over his lips by now.
“Down, boy.” You smirk, “So you agree with me that cat hybrids are better, huh?”
“No!”
Before you can get out anything more, he’s clawin’ onto your oversized t-shirts. Pawing you. Placating those traitorous words of yours by pressing his heated body even closer.
Ino mutters, “And I can prove it, too.” So determined.
If there was anything that Ino hated more than those damn cat hybrids with their feline sneakiness and obsessive preening; then it was your admiration for it. Your attention. And though he knew that part of you was teasing - quite successfully, at that - you didn’t expect a golden retriever hybrid to act normal about it, did you?
Chuckling, “And how’s that?”
Oh, you knew you were in for it.
Because no matter how cute cat hybrids could be, nothing could ever compare to how possessive puppyboys were.
.
.
.
“See? See—?” Ino’s tone was utterly botched; husky and cracking embarrassingly towards the very end. Unstable. There was a carnal nature to it that just made the hairs on your body raise- and no matter how desperately you’ve heard him speak before, nothing could compare to this.
As he’s holding- practically gluing your hips down onto his.
Skin against skin. Hot sweat gliding between the two of you.
Letting the blushing, bulging tip of his cock swab inside his eighth orgasm of the night. The miry ribbons of his sap layerin’ around his inches and getting pushed in even deeper—or at least attempting to.
Ino had cum so many times tonight that he was having a hard time keeping it all in.
In and in—again and again. A few beads of his cream-white cum foams between your legs and makes the hybrid’s nose crinkle- he’s reaching his left hand up and pushing the excess inside with his thumb. “See? Feel me filling you up with so much cum? All the way until…” Reachin’ up just a little and pushing down on your stomach, he watches as it makes the wads of cum stuffed inside you empty out. “-you’re just bloated with me.”
Making an even bigger mess for him to pretend to have to ‘clean up’ or something or the other.
And you’re feeling so good- Ino’s curvaceous tip was smoochin’ around your sweetest inside. Your most sensitive parts. “Mmm, yeah. Fuck- I can feel you so deep inside.”
“Right from these pussylips…and right up to your womb.” Ino sputters out. And it’s a sheer wonder that he could even string together coherent sentences at this point—just that pussydrunk. “I’ve m-made my mark eeeeeverywhere on this pussy, sweetness.”
“M-made your mark?” You giggle- he was just speaking nonsense. But it was just so cute how earnestly Ino meant it.
His long, doe-like lashes fluttering. His beautiful brown eyes tearing up. His lips quivering the slightest bit every time your walls were clenchin’ and milking him; draaaaagging sloppily from the girthy end of his base and up to his slender tip. “Mhm-” Nodding and nodding- the clapping noises of his hips meeting yours just speeds up. “So that even when m’cleaned out of you, you’re gonna feel me- gonna feel empty without me.”
“Oh…” Your maw drops.
And he’s immediately lurching his dazed head upwards and planting a direct thwack! of spittle between your gorgeous lips. “Even these lips. You’re gonna miss me- ngh, s-stuffing these pretty walls full. You’re gonna miss the feeling of me here—”
Mazin’ between your clingy walls, entering his swollen head into your womb.
“-begging for pups.”
“Baby, you’re pussydrunk-”
Though the words don’t seem to reach his buzzing ears.
“And any other fuckin’ cat hybrid-” He spits out those last two words like venom. Teeth just a little bared. “-are gonna know. They’re gonna smell me on you.” Hybrids, in general, always did have more heightened senses than humans. “They’re gonna sense me. They’re gonna know that Ino Takuma has been here—that he’s made this pussy his before any of them could.”
Lovingly, Ino’s patting your bloated pussy- plap-plap!
You’re so wet that beads of sap n’ cum end up smeared across his fingertips. And he’s skating them down your crevice to pinch at your throbbing clit.
His hybrid tail wags beneath him; you could sense the sheets shifting as a result. “And they’re gonna know…” Ino’s mouth waters just at the notion. “-that I’ve been a good boy for you.”
Your breath hitches at the feeling of something building, and building, and building deep within you.
It’s accumulating with every single ruthless slam! that he was honing out. Hitting every tender area- your g-spot was aaaaaching for touch every single time Ino pulled back to reel in again, just addicted to him already.
And soon enough, you’re finding yourself meeting his every thrust with a needy bounce.
Making your hybrid boyfriend beneath you get pushed up and down the creaking bed- his ears twist in ecstasy when you accelerate. “Now, I wouldn’t say that…” You murmur, and without a single warning—you’re reaching up and tugging on one of fluffy ears. “-you’ve been a real bad boy, Taku.”
“B-but I am better than any cat hybrid… And then his voice is breaking- and Ino Takuma is shattering into his ninth high of the night.
Honestly, it doesn’t even feel like his ninth high.
It feels like five at once. Harsh bouts of pleasure thrum through his body; making it feel as though every single droplet of blood he possessed was rushing out of his limbs and collecting at the very tip-top crown of his shaft. That blushin’ rouge tip just pouring out sticky wads of cum into your deepest depths, sliding them along his heavy inches and into your squeezing walls-
Ino babbles away stupidly as he cums- “I thought I was a good boy.” He hiccups, his lower lip quivering delicately. “Thought I was—ngh, better than…oh.”
And then he’s planting both feet on the navy-blue sheets and arching even deeply up into you.
Desperately.
He was practically wrenching your next orgasm out of you.
You’re letting out a brief whimper at the sudden shockwaves of bliss overtaking you - rendering your vision a little bleary, and your toes curled in pleasure.
And through the fogginess that curls around your brain, you’re able to witness how his long lashes start to dapple in tears. Huffing, “So mean t’me, pretty…”
You snicker, “Only because I love you, Taku.” Leaning down to kiss him tenderly- “You know I can stop the joking around if you want?”
“No…” He shakes his head. “When you’re mean to me it makes me hard.”
Oh.
And what else were you supposed to do; but hum thoughtfully to yourself as you reached out and shuffled in the bedside cabinet? Bringing out that bright-red collar that he loved so much? Snagging it around Ino’s pretty throat and watching as his Adam’s apple bobs-
“Then why don’t you act like a good boy f’me, hm?”
Ino gulps. “Y-yes, ma’am.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - #PUSSYPOWER!
Hybrid type: Panthera uncia
Two words: Snow Leopard.
If there ever were a breed of cat hybrids that drew more attention than a Snow Leopard, then Gojo Satoru would find them and throttle them himself.
Kidding…of course.
But that’s to be said: there were reasons that he was the most talked-about man on campus, among both humans and hybrids alike. He was the frat president of Curses Epsilon, he was tall (6’4 on a bad day, according to the man himself), he was beefy, he was accomplished in a plethora of sports and physics academics of which medals and certificates lined his fraternity bedroom. Did he mention he was president of Curses Epsilon?
Even those dog hybrids that seemed to have a perpetual grudge against the feline type had to admit that there was something eye-catching about him.
Blue hair. Impish smile. White hair—the sole reason that white hair started trending- and even those proud grey wolf hybrids started dying their hair to match him.
At least according to him, that’s the reason.
All in all, the point was that when Gojo Satoru had asked you out - after an entire semester of crushing on you during Professor Yaga’s lectures, sitting in the row behind you - you said no. And he’d damn-near had a heart attack—so did just about everyone in the vicinity that heard you. You just rejected Gojo Satoru himself.
Were pigs about to fly?! They shifted awkwardly in the distance.
And looking at the crestfallen expression on his face, you couldn’t help but explain…you’d never dated a cat hybrid before. You didn’t know if you’d mesh well.
But he’d promised.
He’d promised that it’d be no different. Whatever other hybrids you’d dated in the past - whatever snakes and eugh…dog hybrids - he’d be even better than them.
He’d treat you so much better. He’d fuck you so much bett—
You’d slapped a hand over his mouth and stopped him right then n’ there. And sweeping a look at the people around you two - you find that they were pretending to be far more interested in the surrounding flooring or their textbooks in order to overhear your conversation - you promised that you’d go out with him. Just one date, you’d said.
Glee shone in his eyes—so bright that you almost had to look away.
That one date at some rundown campus coffee shop had turned into two. Two dates had turned into three. Three dates had turned into four-
Then lo and behold, you found yourself dating the most talked-about man on campus. Which seemed like a null title considering it was university, but then again this was Gojo Satoru.
And a relationship with him had been just as electric as you expected.
Especially when it was around a month in- and Gojo had come to your apartment after a four-hour long lecture. Ready to rant about his day. Ready to fall into your bed and sleep Gakuganji’s no-good assignments off.
But a single step inside and…and he’d raised his nose into the air.
He’d taken a deep sniff.
Pupils becoming pinpoints. Fluffy tail swishing from side-to-side.
Beneath the usual lemon-scented spray that you’d use to clean your glasses, there was something…more. Something…different. It was something carnal and alluring—and it was coming from right between your legs as you walked out to greet him. Your pussy smelled strangely, irresistibly sweet to the hybrid.
Gojo Satoru looked at you and a jolt ran through your body at the expression on his face. Primal.
.
.
.
“Heeeeere, kitty kitty~”
You yelp—
And before you know it, your hands are clawing at the twisted-up blankets as you’re dragged back. Fucking dragged back into the hybrid’s mounted body, his hot breath plastering against the side of your neck- where you’d been bitten n’ marked raw. “Wh-where do you think you’re going?”
Your jaw drops.
Gojo’s tone was hitched. Gojo’s tone was on the verge of ruins.
It was unsteady at the ends of his words- and there was a sort of crazed tinge to it—just like the rest of his body, Gojo’s voice was trembling. Wound tight and on the verge of breaking. For the most uncountable time tonight, he shovels his ravaged cock between the cute crevice of your pussylips- and finds himself letting out an agonized whimper.
“Fuh-fuck.” The frat president is letting out. Tail curling ‘round your right calf to prevent you from running any further, tears breaking out across his cheeks. That muscular body of his was often the target of both admiration and envy: broad shoulders, slutty waist. There was so much power held in it as one of the apex hybrids on campus—and yet, right now it was clamoring up onto yours and damn-near collapsing. “Fuck- fuck- fuck.”
Every profanity was punctuated with a torturous drag of his cock inside you. Beneath him, you’re supported only with a single arm of his hooked underneath your stomach- getting thrown ‘round by the sheer force of his thrusts.
It’s been like this for hours since he’d gotten back.
And by now, Gojo was completely and utterly overstimulated.
But there was no way he was stopping any time soon. Not when you were…
“In heat.”
“Satoru, I told you I’m human—oh.” The way his round, ruby-red tip was entering your walls…there was just no way to describe it. There was nothing to compare to how he’d thrust apart your gluey channel and poke that one spot he knew you loved so much. And with a wretched mewl, you’re bucking back into his body. “H-humans don’t have heats, silly.”
His sharpened canines drag across the expanse of shoulder once he dips his head, cat-like ears twitching. “Then what’s that sweetness I smell?”
As if to emphasize his point, Gojo takes a looooong heave.
Nostrils flaring. Eyes growing wilder the more he’s taking in the saturated air- to him, it was an addicting combination of sex, sweat, and something sweet.
Something he couldn’t describe.
Something that befogged his mind and made his eyes roll to the back of his head. A carnal shiver wracks through him.
And it’s not long before his bludgeoning tip empties out a few more ribbons of precum- it’s enough to make warmth seep into your belly. Arousal pangs through your body, and it’s just then that Gojo lurches his head up and looks at you with primal eyes. “See- there. There.” Yet another ravenous push to the back of your pussy. His ears listen for the sloppy songs your pussy was givin’ off. “Your heat just got stronger. Do that again, sweetheart—I’m begging you, do that again for your Toru.”
“I-I don’t even know what you mean- fuck, that feels good.” You yelp.
“Do it again—do I have to get on my knees…?” And after a few more thrusts, he’s emanating out a low chuckle - he really is Gojo, after all. “Well, I guess I already am on my knees.” Knees that were currently being chafed with the constant back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
“You need to shut up and- oh, believe me when I say I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Though you certainly weren’t complaining about the utterly feral way he was fucking you. “I think you’re just in rut- mmpf.”
He’s plastering one of his sweaty palms over your mouth.
And then the two of you are falling backwards; Gojo’s sitting back on his haunches, upright, and taking you with him. He pounds away up into you as he remains seated kneeling—the erect length of his cock splittin’ your pussy apart so deliciously.
Underneath his hand, your maw drops into a lecherous ‘oh’ that makes Gojo remove his palm. And then he wastes no time spittin’ into it.
Watching as his gentle wad reaches deep into your gullet.
The snow leopard hybrid purrs as you babble in response- his deep vibrations thrumming through your body. With the accelerating pace of his hips, you’re merely growing even wetter - sloppily so - and Gojo’s practically drowning in his ecstasy as the scented air intensifies. As it takes over his entire body—practically speaks to him at a lesser, more base level. “These past few days…oh, these past few days I’ve been sensing it building up.”
The past few days? “Sh-shiiiiit.” You’re keening as his clawed hand slides down to press on your stomach- where his thickened cock was spearheading constantly.
“I’ve been smelling it on me- I’ve been jerking myself off to it thinking that it was one of your new perfumes.” And you’re unsure whether it was because of how pussydrunk he was, or purely because this was Gojo Satoru, but he doesn’t show even the slightest speck of abashment when admitting this. “And come to think of it…it’s just your heat, my girl.”
Pushing down even harder- massaging where his bulbous tip edged along your g-spot.
“This pussy’s just been yearning f’me - I can practically hear her yowling for my cock.”
“I’m c-close—” You babble out.
Gojo’s large, fluffy tail wraps around your waist to hold you better to him.
“Oh, what a coincidence. That’s what- hah, she’s sayin’ too.” And with a few more vicious probes into your sweetest spots, you’re propelled into your high n’ Gojo’s fucking you through it maddeningly. He isn’t thrown off by the way you’re splashin’ down his thick thighs.
Squirting.
In great, torrential waves of your orgasm.
It’s coming out in a glittery sheen- down between your legs and plastering across his own skin. Those areas of slammin’ contact between your two bodies are even louder now—plap-plap-plapping as Gojo fucks you through your high.
Every peak and stride. Eeeeveery single height of bliss that sends dopamine pouring into your veins. Somehow, he’s managing to maze his cock into eeeevery single sweet spot you loved- and that’s elongating your orgasm until you’re in tears. “Please- fuh-fuuuuck, just like that. Just like that, just like that- oh, ngh—”
“Make a mess- make a fucking mess, sweetheart.”
“It’s too much- oh.” Back arching. Toes curling. Your heartbeat pounds in your eardrums- and you’re so far gone that you almost don’t notice the way that Gojo himself is cumming.
Though if you’re soaking him, he’s cumming dry - the tip of his irritated shaft twitches like he’s pumping out wads of seed. But what really comes out is…nothing.
Though Gojo really does feel the waves of pleasure that overtake him, even though he’s cumming dry. He’s clenching his pretty eyes shut, he’s letting his mouth quiver- just the cutest whimpers of your name escaping him as your boyfriend keeps rammin’ away his orgasm into you.
So overstimulated.
Gojo lovingly pats your quiverin’ pussy.
“And it’s all thanks to this- hah, heat here.” Gojo murmurs, his fuzzy hybrid tail briefly spankin’ down on your sopping slit before he moves it away. “Managed to make my girl squirt.”
“Heat…” Your nose crinkles, “I really don’t get why you think I’ve been in heat these past few- oh.”
Oh.
It hits you like a semi-truck.
“Satoru, did you mean my ovulation?”
The snow leopard hybrid considers this as he starts buckin’ into a whole new round.
“Ovulation…” Gojo whispers to himself- like a prayer. “Ovulation and I are gonna be besties.”
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Sssstudy time.
Hybrid type: Dendroaspis polylepis
You couldn’t focus.
Maybe it was due to the column of assignments that you’d been (quite irresponsibly) been putting off; maybe it was due to the fact that your snake hybrid boyfriend was staying over and a bit too much of a…distraction.
And the worst part was that he wasn’t even doing anything—Higuruma Hiromi sat quietly at the foot of your bed, leafing through the pages of a law textbook that you’re sure he’d already memorized from cover to cover. Unlike you, the law professor didn’t need to rush through assignments - which meant he was particularly ruthless when handing them out.
A forbidden relationship.
A secret.
The hybrid professor was amongst the most ogled-at on campus.
And it’d taken an entire semester of your prettiest skirts and your flirtiest one-liners during tutoring lessons before Higuruma had finally gone against his personal code to ask you out.
But only after you’d moved on from his class.
And it seems that dating a law professor didn’t give you an edge- but then again, you didn’t start dating him for the edge at all.
Higuruma Hiromi was just too attractive. And smart. And gentlemanly. And hiding a sense of witty humor he rarely revealed to anyone but you.
And it was making you stray your eyes away from the utterly droll except on the rules of estate inheritance. But who could blame you? The man of thirty-two sat with his sternly handsome features pinched into something focused; sleeves of his button-up pushed to his elbows, slivers of his skin somewhat scaly, dark eyes examining the page in a way that made you squirm…
He’d never interrupt your studying. But then again he didn’t have to try.
You sigh.
Law degrees were hard.
Higuruma doesn’t look up from his textbook, “Sssomething the matter, angel?”
“Nothing.” You counter- before realizing that lying to the best lawyer in Tokyo probably wasn’t the smartest idea. “It’s just…I can’t seem to focus.”
“Oh. Why’s that?” He looks at you with his brows furrowed in concern.
You—you want to say. It’s solely because of him that you couldn’t focus.
Not when he’s sitting there so close, and so attractive, and so irresistible- honestly who in their right mind would be able to focus on land disputes and things when it comes to something like this? And though you don’t verbalize your thoughts, you’re sure a part of it shows on your expression.
Because without another word, Higuruma sets his book down on the bed—leaning ever-so-slightly backwards and opening his thick thighs up invitingly. You don’t have to wait for him to reach his arms out and beckon you forwards- you’re already getting up and gladly leaving your assignments behind. “Come here, sssugar. Let me teach you how to focus.”
In just about no time, your clothes are hitting the floor.
As they seem wont to do whenever you’re around him…
But nonetheless, Higuruma soon as your legs positioned atop his bulky shoulders - slightly unsteady given the semi-scaled surface of his skin.
Back arched. Cunt dripping all over the freshly-washed sheets.
Higuruma meets the front of your cunt with his thickened tip, swipin’ it up and down the line of your folds. Dripping wet—you’re letting out the most delicious wet noises once he’s teasing your entrance- just barely probing his swollen cockhead inside, then out…watching as your hole seems to gape and clench around nothing—
In. Then out.
In. Then out.
Before you’re growing far too impatient with his toying- and you’re bucking up deftly into him. “Hiromi, just fuck me already…”
“Just fuck you already?” He tuts, though you could hear the faint amusement in his tone. And then the hybrid’s swatting down two smooth slaps right between your pussylips- making your moans strangle in your throat. “How impatient. It seems I have more to teach you about focus and patience than I thought.”
“Fuck.”
And then he’s smiling down lovingly at you.
Perking his head up, Higuruma reaches up and grabs something off the headboard.
And whilst you’re concentrating on not ogling his forearm muscles too much, he’s producing that jet-black tie of his that’d been thrown off in the hassle to strip yourselves of your clothes. As you watch him in slight confusion, Higuruma nods his head reassuringly down at you - and ties the silk fabric around your eyes.
A blindfold.
“Easy there.” He comforts in that warm baritone of his. You knew that he’d never do anything you didn’t want to do; and seeing him break that cold facade for you was one of your favorite parts about this.
Higuruma was running his hands comfortingly down the sides of your body, he was making sure that blindfold wasn’t too tight—he was ultimately resting his slender fingers between your quivering thighs n’ rolling over your clit. “Eeeeeasy, my girl. Now focus.” You’re nodding before you even know what he’s about to say- and that makes him smile. “I’ll be giving you one of my two cocks, and you have to guess which one it is, okay?”
Because there was another thing about snake hybrids: they had two cocks.
Long and rock-hard. Higuruma’s were blushed the prettiest rouge on his tips- stacked on one top of the other, they were both drivelling out ribbons of precum at the impatience to get inside you. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from the lesson he was drilling into you, but oh…
“Oh, f-fuuuuuck.” Soon enough - even though you can’t see him - you can feel the rotund intrusion of one of his tips. Piercing between your swollen lips and pressing deeper inside.
Deeper and deeper.
It doesn’t take long before Higuruma’s punctuating your goopy insides with thorough, passionate strokes. He just loved sweeping across every sweet spot inside you until it left you speechless—lingerin’ that hot tip of his where your g-spot was, and then lingering on your cervix. Repeatedly, he’s hitting the thoughts out of your mind; though…that’s not entirely what tonight was about, was it?
“Now now…” You’re feeling two gentle slaps to the left side of your face. “Don’t get too fucked stupid already, angel. Focus. Which one is this? Upper or lower?”
“What- oh, fuck.” Whatever response was on the tip of your tongue is fucked away- by the indulged stripes he was drawing at the back of your pussy. Watery saliva pools in your mouth as you feel the stretch of your walls—almost to their limits. “Fuck, it feels so good, Hiro-”
Another slight spank. “I’m teaching you a lesson right now, angel. You refer to me as sssir-”
“Sir-”
“No…” Squeezing at your clit with his other hand.
Startling you. Suddenly making you buck. It makes you bellow out without even trying—“I s-said it feels so good- ngh, sssir.” Slurring your words.
Though that’s exactly what he wanted.
“Good.” And you could practically hear the smile in his words. Though Higuruma doesn’t let up so easily- in fact, he’s doing the complete opposite. “That’s how you need to focus.”
Another small slap to your cheeks, a little harder this time.
You keen.
“Upper or lower, sssugar?” He hisses.
You’re gasping for air. “I-I—”
And Higuruma being a snake hybrid meant that his mushroomy tip would be flared even larger than most hybrid species or even humans. It was the perfect shape: curved upwards, patterned with numerous veins and ridges. The area above his slit was the most delicious mechanism to drag across your inside and drive you absolutely wiiiiild.
And soon enough, you’re bucking up with a moan. “Upper….no, ngh! Lower?” Honestly, it was enough of a feat that you could speak with the way he was ruining your insides so well.
“Wrong.” Higuruma responds simply.
And then you’re feeling him slap your sweaty cheeks- and then plant a harder one down on your incorrect pussy. Before the snake hybrid reels his pelvis backwards—back and back, all the way backwards before his swollen tip is pulling out of your hole with an audible pop! And then funneling back in again.
“Upper or lower?” Higuruma asks once more.
By deduction through logic, you’re gasping- “Lower-”
“Wrong again.”
It was just so cute how your mouth drops at that very second - and the older man can’t help but lean down and give that gaping maw of yours a lil’ slap, too. Just a little punishment.
Before he’s coursing in even harder strokes—more merciless. He was molding your soft insides to the shape of him - both of him - and it made your toes curl just how mean he was being with your body right now. His heavy balls enunciating each thrust with a thwack-thwack-thwack!
How lecherous.
Higuruma alternates between his two lengths at a frenzied pace, dippin’ each one in and out. “Upper or lower?”
“Upp-”
Thwack!
“Upper or lower?”
“I don’t…ngh.” Tears glisten in your eyes and even through the blindfold. “Lower—”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Higuruma ultimately husks out in a lowered tone, “Focus.” Hips brushing yours so hard that it was starting to sting with unyielding contact. “Get this one wrong, angel…and you’re not cumming a sssingle time tonight.”
You whimper, “P-please…”
But that’s not enough to make him take mercy on you—for Higuruma pushes his rugged tip back out with a drawn-out wet sound. And then he’s making you guess once more-
“Upper or lower?”
You’re furrowing your brows underneath the blindfold. You’re squeezing your thighs even harder around his waist in an attempt to feel him better. Hell, you’re even arching your back off the dampened mattress and giving his pistoning cock a good, long squeeeeze—
Scrambling whatever rationality was left within your brain to try and compare the feeling - the length, the upright curve, the thrumming veins - of this shaft relative to the other.
And the answer finally bestows upon you, “Is this…your upper?”
Then he hones out a thrust so loud it slams!
“Correct.”
And for your prize, you’re getting the blindfold taken off you—and the first thing you see is Higuruma’s flushed, handsome face. The second thing you see is his sudden intrusion: hips drawing even closer to yours, he somehow manages to swipe n’ stuff both aching tips inside your hole.
“Now let’s see if you can focus with both.”
♡ IEIRI SHOKO - Cream XOXO
Hybrid type: Felis catus
“Hmmm…” Dr. Ieiri Shoko removes the ear tips of the stethoscope and lets the medical instrument hang from her neck. The clinic’s faux-leather chair squeaks as she sits back; hands crossing in front of her and pinning you down with her deep, intelligent eyes.
You squirm on the examination table.
Something knowing twinkles in her gaze.
Perhaps due to the fact that you’ve been dropping by Shoko’s clinic every other day at this point—as the newest-hired teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High, it was inevitable that you’d be seeing a few more injuries or a bit more cursed energy exhaustion than someone more experienced like Professor Yaga. But this…this was almost getting ridiculous.
And you knew it, after all.
You were the one going there on purpose.
The first time you saw Ieiri Shoko, it was in your first week as a teacher; you’d gotten cut whilst training one of the students. And though your reverse cursed technique was in perfect condition, it seems that the cursed nature of the weapon made it harder for you to counter the damage - and so you’d wound up in the infirmary after a nasty faint.
Waking up to…an angel.
Or so you’d thought.
Tired eyes. A mole at the corner of her eye.
A cigarette sticking out from the side of her mouth- were those even allowed on campus? And sleek, brown cat ears sticking out from her head.
“That’s one way to be introduced.” She’d droned out in her steady voice.
And after that…day after day, your mind kept thinking back to the cat hybrid. Your mind kept conjuring up all sorts of excuses that might allow you to go down to the clinic after classes—
It would be strange to just show up, right?!
Especially since you didn’t know her that long…and thus came the excuses of a stomach ache, of a headache, of a cut that suspiciously vanished once you actually spoke to her. Must’ve been something jujutsu-related, right?
And she took it all in stride.
Which made you think that Shoko actually didn’t mind your intrusions with some made-up disease and a homemade lunch for the two of you to split.
Thus, you were here today.
Squirming as you buttoned up your uniform - it was a potential heart murmur this time…sometimes you had to get creative you suppose - and wondering how to ask the pretty doctor out for lunch. There was this cute new café that opened up down the street, and they were said to have pretty good beer that-
“I counted your heartbeat, y’know.” Shoko says suddenly, drawing your attention. She looks at you with an unreadable gaze- though not unkind. “It was 102 beats per minute.”
“O-oh…” You wondered how you were going to explain that away—“It must’ve been-”
“Innocent murmurs don’t cause heart beats to raise- and in any case, you don’t have one.” She crosses her arms and takes you in your half-dressed state; legs crossing, tail swishing. “You don’t have to make up excuses to see me, y’know? You can just come by whenever you want.”
Damn those cat hybrids- they were always so alluring without even meaning to be.
Unsure what to say, you’re sure you’re sputtering out some pathetic amalgamation of excuses and assurances that you’ll heed her advice next time—heart racing, body heating up, your hands rushing up to button your blouse to regain some dignity, at least…
“Don’t.”
Only to be stopped by the woman of your dreams herself.
Shoko’s gaze was feline, “I like it like that.”
Less than five minutes later, she has you laid-out on the examination table once more. Hoverin’ in the space between your open legs as laps and laps your drippin’ wet pussy.
Her tongue was so looooong and flexible—swirling a few times over your swollen clit before dipping in and out of your hole. So sloppily; she’s making out with the tender edges of your pussy, lipstick smearing everywhere and anywhere she was reaching.
“O-ohhh…” Your back arches against the cool surface of the examination table. Hands grasping bare air. “It feels so good, Sho, keep going.”
And with something that sounds akin to a sensual chuckle- Shoko reaches out and intertwines her fingers with yours midair. You’re just taking the time to admire the beauty in her fingers—so competent in what she does, and painted in a pale lavender. Everything about her was so pretty…
And just as soon as you do - it’s as if she’s reading your mind.
For one set of her fingers guide your own hands to hold onto her head- your hands smoothing down her long hair, scratching behind her twitching cat ears. And the other set of her fingers are stuffin’ your awaiting pussy—teasing apart your elastic entrance and running her smooth fingertips along her walls. “Stay still now, kitty.”
“H-how—?” That was practically impossible when two of her slender digits were rovering inside. So smooth. So steady. She was easing in your first ring of muscle before mazing in deeeeep. “N-not when it feels this good, ngh.”
“I said stay.” She commands, in a slightly more serious tone. Pulling out and slapping your clit in punishment.
And though you’re whimpering in defiance, you follow her words.
Seeing as you’re listening to her, vibrations start running from your core- it takes you a second to realize that Shoko was purring. Mouth curved. Eyes half-lidded - like the cat that got the cream. As a little apology for the spank from earlier, the cat hybrid leans down and gives an open-mouthed kiss onto your clit.
“Good girl.” She hums. “Patients should stay still until they’re feeling better.”
You sputter, “B-but you said I don’t have a-”
“You don’t.” Shoko affirms. She nods a little bit, and that ends up pressing the tip of her nose against your clit- so sensitive that you’re bucking up into her instantly.
Just as quickly, you’re feeling her cold fingertips pang down once more.
“Now what did I say?” Tutting. Shoko might have been the most laid-back doctor you’ve been to in your entire life—but now you see that all the normal sternness went to her in bed. It went into the way she’s spankin’ your pussy three more times - thwack-thwack-thwack - once you’re not replying fast enough for her.
And you’re just barely hanging on- just barely able to babble out. “Y-you said to stay still- ngh, fuck.”
“Hm, I’d call you a good girl for that—” Smile plastered against your sopping wet lips. “-but we both know that’s not true.”
And then she’s roving her digits into sweet spots you hadn’t even known existed- the doctor knew exactly where to hit. In but a mere few strokes, she’d mapped out your cunt as if she’s been eating you out for yeeeeears—and then attaching herself to your clit and hollowing her cheeks sucking as though she hasn’t had a single proper meal in years.
The stimulation is so much- she’s hooking two fingers into the area of your g-spot and you’re immediately bucking. Only to get Shoko’s glossy tail hooked around one of your ankles and ruthlessly plopping you back down-
You weren’t moving a single inch when she was having her lunch break.
“Might just be the worst patient I’ve ever had-” Catching your eye, she reassures with a slick-glistening smile. “Don’t worry, you’re the only patient I’ve given special treatment to like this.”
“Th-thank goodness.”
Yet another spank. “But that doesn’t mean you aren’t the worst. Stay fuckin’ still.”
With a whimper, you’re just taking it.
Every push, every throb, every plunge of her expert hands. But you think her favorite part might be how she kept rollin’ her tongue over your plump, puckered clit - pushing aside your bloated folds and just nagging at it as if it was the sweetest candy.
Shoko kept her lips glued to your pussy, and was tugging and draaaaagging your clit with her teeth—until you were basically numb with pleasure. She’s barely coming up for air.
And once that starstruck expression crosses your face, she’s gurgling out a few giggles. “Atta girl.” A single spank- just to keep you on the edge. “Acting good for me now? Maybe you’re all cured.”
“M-maybe…” You still didn’t even know what she was diagnosing you with-
“Lying.” For a second there, you think that Shoko’s just read your mind—and then, belatedly, you’re realizing that you’d just blabbered those words out loud. So much lustful need coiled around your brain that you were just keening-
“I-I only lied to see you-”
Another spank. “And that’s still lying, isn’t it?”
“I guess—oh.” Another two spanks. Harder, this time.
“Wasting a doctor’s time. Taking up precious resources.” In fact, the best part of her day was seeing your gorgeous face- but every stinging word only left you wetter. And mockingly, Shoko’s shaking her head in disapproval and lappin’ even more fervently at the sweetness of your pussy. That tongue of hers…it was indescribable. “I should be kicking you out of my clinic.”
“No!” You gasp. “Anything but that-”
Yet another spank. Lingering, now.
“What was that?”
You sob, “I-I’m not gonna lie again, Dr. Shoko.”
“Good.” She grins, “Now for something to tamper that sexiness of yours.”
And as she’s hiding her smile between your legs- you’re exploding straight into your high. It’s like nothing you’ve ever encountered before—long and drawn-out, the peaks of your orgasm get even stronger every time she hits your favorite spot. Again and again.
Probe after probe.
Like the manicured tops of her fingertips were magnetized to your bundles of nerves.
Calculating between those peaks, she manages to increase the pressure on your pussy right when it hits the most. Dragging you back by her tail and purring as she nibbles on your clit.
“That’s right.” She mutters. “Cum all over the doctor’s face.”
You’re fully wrung out by the time she’s done with you- and Shoko’s ready to move away with a victorious smile. But before she can do so, you reach out and grab onto her white coat—
❆ Pairing: Bunny hybrid! Gojo x Bear hybrid! Reader
Part 2
✿ Synopsis: Living on the outskirts of a small town where prey hybrids reside as a predator yourself comes with its challenges. You've no interest in them, but instinct has shaped their beliefs, has led them to fear you.
All but one—the strongest of the bunch. Satoru, your mate who is hopelessly in love with you.
Despite what his instincts tell him, despite what the rest of the town believes, he stays by your side through thick and thin. Through dangers, predators and hunters, through every day life where you slowly learn more about one another, he stays with you and you stay with him.
It's what mates do and even though winter is harsh, spring comes around to remind you that the season is a sweet reward for everyone.
❆ Word count: 9.4k
✿ Content warnings: 18+ MDNI ⋆ hybrid AU ⋆ small town (cottage life) AU ⋆ FEM! Reader ⋆ Reader is bigger than Gojo (I tried to keep it ambiguous in a sense where you can imagine her as taller and either more muscular or chubby) ⋆ Gojo likes the size difference ⋆ interspecies couple ⋆ established relationship ⋆ predator/prey dynamic ⋆ plot with porn ⋆ swearing ⋆ contains fluff ⋆ contains very mild angst ⋆ mentions of blood and mild descriptions of gore ⋆ some animalistic habits, behaviours and instincts ⋆ Hunter! Toji cameo ⋆ Bunny hybrids! Shoko + Nanami + Suguru ⋆ implied jealously ⋆ heat/rut cycles ⋆ hibernation and hibernation preparation ⋆ adrenaline highs and rushes ⋆ implied fem!dom! Reader & sub! Gojo ⋆ dynamic switch ups (switching) ⋆ feral, needy Gojo (he's a yearner) ⋆ slight primal play ⋆ riding ⋆ semi-public (forest) sex ⋆ teasing ⋆ oral (f! and m! receiving) ⋆ marking (biting & scenting) ⋆ unprotected p in v sex ⋆ breeding ⋆ passive somnophilia ⋆ m! masturbation ⋆ pregnancy ⋆ pregnancy hormones ⋆ having sex while pregnant ⋆ lactation ⋆ nipple stimulation ⋆ doggy style position ⋆ slight dumbification ⋆ pussy-drunk Gojo ⋆ fingering ⋆ multiple rounds (implied marathons) ⋆ multiple orgasms (Gojo & reader) ⋆ overstim ⋆ creampies ⋆
☆ Author's note: This was meant to be a single post, but tumblr is lowkey a pain. Had to split this into parts 😭 Neeways, y'all. This was a request and I worked so hard to do the idea justice because I really liked the prompt 😩
You trek through the forest, legs carrying you through the lush green foliage despite your aching muscles. Even though your limbs beg and plead for relief, you trudge forward, ignoring the way your body burns.
The burn is good; it means that you have gotten far. Whether it’s far enough or not is a question that you will need to find an answer to.
You tell yourself that this is all for the best, that the aches and pains are worth it because you’re finally going to lead a life that you get to choose for yourself. After years of living in a space, a village that didn’t care about anyone, you’d deemed it necessary to escape.
You needed to escape from the traditions that weighed you down, you needed to escape the community that thrived on consuming other hybrids. Even if they are considered prey, you just can’t bring yourself to stomach a hybrid diet. It’s one of the many reasons that you just had to get away.
So, after the brutal cold that settled over the land, after the snow and frost melted, you refuelled your energy after hibernation, relishing the gift of spring before making your journey here. Where there’s more wildlife that you ensure to avoid.
It's not because you’re scared of them or because you want to leave them be, it’s simply because you’re too tired to have to deal with the outcome of being spotted by an animal.
Animals are dangerous, and many a times, severely so. They look at hybrids and see human, they’ll sniff the air and smell animal and that often leaves them confused, conflicted. It messes with their senses; to see a human and to smell an animal all in one go tends to do that.
You’ve learned that alone triggers their fight or flight response and the smaller critters, harmless ones tend to do the latter. Predators, the bigger, much more dangerous animals, tend to do the former. It’s how they cope with their confusion. Either fight the mass that is the source of their uncertainty or run from it.
And you just don’t have the energy to fight or chase after anything right now.
You hadn’t seen hybrids along your way and there’s a part of you that wonders why. Surely you’d find a village or settlement of some sort around here. The area looks inhabitable, so you don’t understand why you haven’t seen life other than that of the wild animals that roam the lands.
Still, you continue forward, stubby ears flicking while you follow invisible paths that allow you to map the area. There’s a stream that cuts the acreage in half, separating the two plots of land and you take it upon yourself to cross it.
The stream flows gently, kisses the edge of the bank with a low trickle.
You cross it and it takes about seven long strides before you’re on the other side, boots soaked through, but that’s pretty much the only part that had gotten wet. Somehow the air on this side feels different, not in a bad way, simply in a way that suggests that there is more activity here.
You continue, steps slower than before. You need to find some place to rest, you’ve no choice.
The scent of cedar drifts in the air and you freeze. It’s very faint, so that suggests that the source is farther away, but you perk nonetheless. Smoke means that there’s some place where you can refuel your energy.
You don’t worry about stumbling into human civilisation, humans don’t live out here.
You hadn’t come across any hunters either—the humans who are foolish enough to step foot in a place where they don’t belong. You’d thought that maybe you’d been lucky, maybe fate had been on your side.
You still think that way.
There’s a rustle that catches your attention and you tense, head snapping in the direction of the noise. You narrow your eyes but soon relax when you gauge the weight of whatever is moving. It’s not heavy and the bushel itself is small.
You suspect that it’s nothing dangerous, perhaps a smaller critter searching for food, so you ignore it, continue on towards the source of the smoke that you’d detected.
It still seems like it’d take a little while to get there, but you’ve got hope.
Your eyes continue to survey the tree-littered landscape and that’s when you hear it, a bark. It’s not just any bark, but one that belongs to the dogs hunters travel with. A hound.
That suggests that there’s a hunter nearby.
You’d know because it doesn’t matter where you find yourself, there will always be people who venture out with their dogs to ensure a successful hunt. You know that you have to avoid the hunter at all costs.
They never hesitate to point their guns at hybrids and you’re not looking to pick a fight where you’ll lose due to pure exhaustion.
You exhale and turn the other direction. Part of you is panicked, but there’s another part of you that has faith that you’ll escape. It’s in that moment that you depend on your faith far too much; it’s in that moment when you’re completely distracted that you forget to double check your surroundings.
There’s a hunter nearby and that means that there’s bound to be traps. You should have been more vigilant because you just so happen to engage a trap hidden under leaves and twigs that bundle up in a suspicious amount.
Had you been more careful, you would have noticed it.
You step directly on the trigger and a pained cry rips from your chest when the jaws of a bear trap clamp around your leg. You stumble to the ground as pain shoots through your entire system and another pained wail escapes you.
Even the birds seem disgruntled by the sudden noise, and everything feels far too quiet. They stop singing and fly off and that’s when the same bark from before resounds in the far distance. You curse under your breath.
The hunter will be coming for you, and you know that you need to get away.
You push yourself up so that you can peer down at where the metal jaws have got you trapped and you swallow a whimper.
The metal digs into your flesh, pierces the skin to the point blood oozes from the wound, crimson seeping from you in thick rivulets that has copper burning your senses and drenching the air.
You hiss, swallowing another pained cry that threatens its way from your chest. It hurts. Everything hurts.
Suddenly your breaths are too sharp, your body feels like it’s failing you and you’re still exhausted from the long journey that you’d been on. You curse yourself for thinking that you’d been lucky, for thinking that fate had been on your side.
It clearly wasn’t.
You know that this trap had been set up for an animal, you’d just been unfortunate enough to trigger it.
Pain courses through you while your leg throbs and aches, stained a deep shade of red that begins to drip to the soil below. You won’t die, the trap won’t kill you, but if you don’t get out soon, the person who had set it up definitely will.
You exhale, eyes scanning the ground for anything that you can use to help set yourself free. You need a stick, a branch, anything sturdy enough to help you.
You fight the pained noises that sit in your chest. You’re already compromised and the last thing you want is to bring more attention to yourself. There are wild animals here too and you’d rather not have to deal with one of them either.
You don’t find anything to help you, nothing that’d be of use and you curse again, gaze flicking in the direction of where you’d heard the hound.
You hear another rustle and your heart drops. You think that it’s the hunter, that maybe they’d managed to get to you a lot sooner than anticipated, but judging by the distant baying that slowly grows closer, you don’t believe that it’s the hunter at all.
Instead, when you peer up, you meet a cerulean gaze, one that remains fixated on you from a distance. You exhale, lips parted and it takes you an embarrassingly long time to realize that what you’re looking at is another hybrid.
Not a predator. Prey. You can smell it underlying the scent of your blood.
The hybrid perks, gaze following your form and you note the long ears that match the head of blanched hair. It stands out amongst the greenery, like snow that takes its time to melt once spring arrives.
You inhale, and even through the heavy scent of blood and dirt, you detect a small ounce of fear and it’s not yours. It’s the type of fear that simmers due to instinct if anything.
You’re not a threat; you try and relay the fact that you’ve no intention to harm the hybrid.
You open your mouth to speak, to ask for help, but you groan instead, peering back down at your leg. It feels numb, like the pain itself is slowly eating away at you. You peer back at the hybrid, allow your eyes to do the talking for you and there’s a nasty feeling that churns in your gut that resents your showcase of weakness.
There’s another bark in the distance and your fingers dig into the soil.
“Please,” you manage, voice riddled with an ounce of panic and pure exhaustion.
You’re not going to bother trying to act as though you don’t need help. You’re not that prideful because realistically, you’re not getting out of this one on your own.
The hound howls again, closer this time and you begin to feel yourself panic now. You know that you have to stay calm in order to figure something out, but your heart has long since tried to escape your chest.
Your breathing is quick, sharp and you snap your head back to plead with the hybrid that had been huddled behind a bush, but there’s no one there.
“Shit.” You hiss and decide that you might as well try and pry the trap open with your bare hands yourself.
It’s a dangerous task, one that wouldn’t even guarantee your freedom, but you try regardless.
It’s no use; you can’t get a proper grip, and you can’t do anything without applying pressure to the trap either. This isn’t your first time having to deal with a trap, but it’s your first time being caught in one.
Still, desperate to escape, you claw at the metal, try your luck with a stick that snaps when you attempt to use it and you feel yourself spiral.
Your mind feels muddled with too many thoughts.
You ask yourself if this is where you die, you ask yourself if your death will be quick or whether it’d be dragged out, you tell yourself that maybe you should have just stayed put in your old home.
Surely living in a community with strict rules, with traditions that feel like shackles that weigh you down is a fate better than death. It’s a fate that sounds a lot better than your current one.
When you decide that there’s nothing more that you can do, a branch falls beside you, thick and sturdy as it lands with a heavy thud.
You glance at it, blink a couple of times before glancing up in the direction it had been thrown from. That same hybrid from before stands closer now but still keeps distance between your bodies.
His lips are parted as he exhales through his mouth. He peers at you, maintains eye contact as though he’s reading you before his head snaps in the direction of the hound that gets closer and closer.
You don’t know what it is that he’d done to get you this branch, but you’re thankful that he did.
Controlling your raging emotions and panicked state, you grab the branch before you’re immediately shoving it into the loop of the trap before pressing down. The tension in the jaws diminishes, alleviates the level of pain that you feel in your leg and before long, you pry the jaws open.
You try but fail miserably. Your hand slips and what little distance that had been put between your leg and the trap quickly closes again and your eyes bulge before you choke on a sob.
Tears blur your vision and you hadn’t even realised that they’d built in the first place.
“Shit, I thought bear hybrids would be strong enough to pry traps open.”
You manage to shoot him a glare, but he isn’t looking at you. Not at your face.
“Fuck, that looks bad—you won’t attack me if I come any closer, right?”
You don’t say anything, your voice catches in your throat when you try, so you simply repeat the motion of attempting to set yourself free. This time, another set of hands are on the jaws, helping you pry the trap open.
Your gaze flicks up for a second only for you to focus your attention on your leg again.
You work steadily. Not because you’re panicking or because you’re too tired, but because the last thing you want right now is for the trap to re-engage. You keep pressure on the springs with the branch and within seconds, you pull your leg free.
You stumble back and so does the other hybrid as the trap snaps shut with a clang again, snapping the branch that you’d used in half. Your blood stains the jaws of the trap, the splintered branch and you groan when your fresh wound burns.
Now that your leg has been freed, blood trickles from the gash. Faster, thicker and you suck in a breath, pushing through the pain.
“Wow, that really, really is bad.” The hybrid shifts, darts his gaze to your face and blinks like he’s been awestruck.
“You’re so pretty, wow—why are you looking at me like that—oh shit, right. The bleeding.”
He pats at his clothes, like he’s searching for something before he curses himself, muttering something about how he’d left his bag behind somewhere. You observe him, take in the uniqueness of his features. He stands out, you can’t deny that. He’s prettier up close, cuter in the way prey hybrids usually are.
Then, as if to remind you of the gravity of the situation that you’re in, the hound barks, silhouette darting in the far distance. Visible now.
You shift, eyes widening and when you move to warn the hybrid that had been crouching over you, he’s gone. He moves fast and you’re far too exhausted to keep up with anything.
You do, however, notice that the hound isn’t running towards you anymore, it’s no longer within sight and the baying and howling of it grows distant.
You huff, breaths coming out in short pants as you try and catch your breaths. You begin to feel your panic ease and your heart slows while relief washes over you. Only briefly.
You’re no longer trapped, but now you’ve got to control the blood loss that you’re dealing with. You can’t imagine the sick concoction of being exhausted and suffering from blood loss.
You rip at the material of your top, tear a fair amount that leaves it cropped before tying the ripped piece of material around your leg. It won’t do much, but it’ll help slow the bleeding until you find somewhere safe to get a good look at the wound.
You secure the material, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you pull it tight. You groan, exhaling a shaky breath through your mouth and it’s then that you lay back, allowing the earth and soil to press up against you.
You’re not sure how long you stay laying like that, but your body refuses to allow you to get up. It’s the first time you’ve managed to catch a break in a long while. You’re tired, sore and injured. You need to get to the source of the smoke as soon as you can, but you can’t move.
Perhaps it’s your body recovering after the immense amount of panic that you’d felt.
“So I… have to run to get that hunter away and you’re—hah—laying and… resting like your life hadn’t just… fuck.”
It's the same bunny hybrid from earlier. Though now, he’s out of breath. Panting like he’d run around the entirety of the forest.
“Your life was in—hah—danger.”
You blink, turning to glance at him. Despite being so out of breath, his voice is smooth, deep. He steals a glance at you, swallows hard when his gaze flicks to the newly exposed skin of your torso before glancing at your leg.
“I see you saw to the… ah bleeding.”
He’s chatty, you note.
“Thank you,” you manage after a moment of silence, pushing yourself into an upright position. “For saving me.”
He shakes his head.
“It’s fine, don’t mention it.” He meets your gaze, ears twitching. “It’s my fault that you got caught in it anyway. I’m really sorry for that.”
Your brows knit together. You’re aware that prey hybrids will do all that they can to keep themselves safe, but you didn’t think that they’d set up traps.
“What–”
“It wasn’t on purpose, I swear.” He points in the direction that you’d detected smoke from. “There’s a town that needs protecting and the only way to do that is to set traps.”
That makes sense, though you wonder why. Perhaps there’s a lot about this area that you don’t know.
He steps closer to you, movements slow. It’s like he’s not sure what to do now that you’re free from the trap. He’s not as scared as what many other hybrids would be of you and you cock your head, gaze flicking over him.
“I don’t think I’d be as delicious as I look.” He chuckles, offering you a smile. “I uh… you really won’t try and attack me if I come any closer?”
He holds up a bag, one that you hadn’t noticed and gestures to it. “I’ve got something for that nasty gash. You can trust me—I’ve got a friend who taught me how to do this.”
“I promise that I won’t try to make a meal out of you.”
He pauses, considers your words, your intent. He stares at you for a long time, like he’s got a sixth sense that he’s tapping into.
“Right, okay.”
He steps closer, pulls out rolls of bandages and a little bottle containing a substance that you’re not familiar with.
“Name’s Satoru Gojo by the way—I’m the strongest too—as I so wonderfully demonstrated earlier.” He offers you a smile, clearly more intrigued by you than what he is scared.
You huff, canines glinting as you muster all that you can to smile through the pain that throbs in your leg. You give him your name and he blinks at you, most likely repeating the syllables in his head.
“So pretty.”
Your eyes flutter before you raise a brow.
“Your name, uh… your name is so pretty.” He chuckles awkwardly before gesturing to your leg. “Here, let me take this off—okay, that is a lot of blood.”
He turns away, holding his hand to his mouth and exhales heavily. You peer at the blood-soaked material and huff out a chuckle. You suppose that he hasn’t seen much bloodshed in his life.
Still, you appreciate the gesture, his willingness to help. Even though he claims to have set the trap, you wouldn’t have made it out alive without him.
❆❆❆･══════════･⁺❀⁺･══════════･❆❆❆
The autumn leaves crunch beneath the weight of each of your steps. Admittedly, that makes everything much more complicated than what it has to be, but you manage. You’ve been through enough autumns to know how to manoeuvre through the season’s conditions.
You continue to follow the trail of his scent, stepping through the foliage while you peer through tree branches, through masses of browns and oranges and yellows as the tress and plants prepare for winter.
You catch sight of him in the distance.
Just like the very first time you’d seen him, he stands out amongst the undergrowth of the forest, stark white hair all but demanding attention. He’s holding something, a basket, trudging along unbeknownst that you’re hiding.
Then there are his ears, long and silky, a cottony white on the outside and a warm, pretty pink on the inside. They twitch.
He doesn’t seem to notice you; continues his way in the direction of the cottage you’ve spent all of summer repairing. With Satoru’s help. He’d been the one to help you find it when you first arrived last spring.
You slow your steps before you circle him, ensuring that you keep out of his line of sight.
This is one of your favourite things to do and although Satoru has begged you to stop, you can’t help it. You love teasing him, you love the rush of adrenaline that you get when you see him fight with himself.
He's safe around you, he knows that and you know that, but when in the face of danger, sometimes biology takes the win, instinct, takes the win.
You take careful steps towards him. He comes to a standstill, breath stuttering. He knows something is out here, knows that he’s being watched. There’s that familiar hint of nerves that begin to stir.
Instinct pricks at your mind and you stalk closer and you do while Satoru’s ears flicker and twist. His head moves, eyes trailing the foliage in the distance in front of him and that’s when you take your chance.
You lunge forward, tackling Satoru who exhales a yelp as the basket in his hands falls to the ground and so do the assorted fruits and veggies that had been in there.
You catch the hint of fear, the scent that you’ve grown addicted to. You don’t like it because you’re sadistic, you like it because it’s driven purely by instinct, by the little voice in Satoru’s head that compels him to run.
You shift the moment you tackle him to the ground, pressing against his back as he struggles, whining about the spilled contents of his basket as your tongue flicks out to lick a stripe along his neck. You taste his flesh and it’s sweet, underlined with a thin layer of salt that tastes familiar to you.
He shudders and makes a little sound.
“Wait—that’s not fair,” Satoru huffs, craning his neck to glance at you from over his shoulder. “I thought that we agreed no sneak attacks—oh fuck.”
Your teeth graze his pulse point and Satoru shudders again. You sense it then, his body fighting to get free while he actively tries to keep still. It’s a war between love and instinct, one that, when it comes to Satoru, is always claimed by love as the victor.
You smile, nuzzling his neck before letting out a chuckle, pushing of Satoru before dusting off your clothes. He catches his breath, composes himself and rises to his feet as well. He peers up at you, wide eyed like he’s seeing you for the first time.
“I thought you’d be at home.”
He’s no longer victim to the fear that bubbles low in his gut, he pushes that unnecessary feelings aside.
“Just got a little bored,” you shrug, moving to help pick up the contents of his basket that lay scattered on the ground. “Thought I’d surprise you—sorry about this.”
“It’s fine, but maybe if you held out on sneaking up on me, we wouldn’t have to worry about spilled baskets.”
You guffaw, “You always say no sneak attacks, but you always make it easy for me to sneak up on you.”
“I don’t do it on purpose.”
Your lips curl and you eye Satoru with mirth. You don’t believe him, but you humour him. You continue collecting the fruits that Satoru had dropped and one in particular catches your gaze.
It looks ripe, like the type that is used in courtship behaviours.
“Where’d this come from?” You hold it up for Satoru and he shrugs.
“There was someone who offered to me. She offers me fruit all the time and I accept them—bring them here for you because you like those ones.”
Your eyes narrow at that.
“Is that so?” You shift rising to your feet and he cranes his neck just the slightest to peer up at you. “So this other bunny that you speak of—she keeps throwing herself at you?”
Satoru gulps, he doesn’t sense anger rolling off from you, but your eyes communicate that there’s a possibility that it’s simmering somewhere.
“What? No, she’s not throwing herself at me–”
“You’ve been accepting her advances of courtship.” You hold up the fruit for Satoru. “This is evidence of that.”
“No, wait, but that’s for you. I’m not interested in her at all—I am popular, I’ll admit that–”
The look on your face has his mouth snapping shut, and he exhales as perspiration gathers at his temples. You’re not listening to him, you’re looking at him yes, glaring at him, but the words he utters don’t register with you.
You make a sound, that same one that you do when you encourage him to run, to get away. He pales, steps back as you step closer.
“Wait, princess, we talked about this—hey—hey! Wait!”
“Better run if you want a chance of escaping, Satoru.”
That’s where it starts; the little game that you play where Satoru runs off before you eventually find him and then mark him with teeth and tongue. It’s repetitive, but this time you prolong it.
You respect that the hybrids from Satoru’s hometown won’t welcome you in, but you won’t tolerate anyone even considering the possibility of throwing themselves on him.
You don’t grow tired of sending Satoru off into the forest for him to run, to hide only for you to find him again. He’s fast, but he still makes it easy for you to find him. You’ve grown addicted to the game, it feeds your instincts and the high you get is intoxicating.
He enjoys it too. You see it when he flushes, you see it in the way his eyes dilate when you’re near. He fights with his instincts a lot despite not wanting to admit it.
You continue forward as you search for Satoru for what feels like the millionth round now, you build tension by keeping your strides slow. Though, through the charged tension that you feel, there is something underlying it.
Something in the air feels different somehow. It’s no longer oozing with just the faint scent of Satoru’s fear—the fear that consumes him solely due to instinct—but instead, it’s tense, quiet.
Like there’s someone else here. You’re far from town, quite a distance from your cottage, but it’s still too close. This sense of unease that you feel has you on edge.
You’re not dumb, you know the risks of living in the middle of a forest right on the outskirts of a town that harbours hybrids that your kind would consider prey. The town itself is an attraction and not just for tourists.
There are predators, both hybrids and animals that lurk in the surrounding areas. There are hunters too and you know that fact far too well. They barge in unwelcomed, they destroy, take up too much space and they like to make it known.
Fires, traps, spaces that feel occupied even when nobody is there. They love leaving things out of place.
The breeze shifts and the wind carries something far too familiar for your liking. Your spine straightens and you go completely still. You stare at nothing in particular and simply focus on what it is that you’re smelling.
Amongst the scent of pine and dirt, there’s the faint scent of dry blood and a stronger metallic smell that makes even the air feel out of place. It’s heavier, a scent that suggests that there’s something man-made that doesn’t belong here.
It’s a trap and you believe that it’s one set out for a bear. Hybrid or animal, you’re not sure which for, but what you do know, is that you have to avoid it at all costs.
The trap hasn’t been cleaned thoroughly and that’s how you’re able to tell that it’s there.
You follow its trail, taking slow, careful steps while you remain vigilant. You know the direction in which Satoru had darted off in, so you follow that path, eyes tracking any movement that you manage to detect.
From rustling bushes to small critters that dart past your feet, you remain alert.
You spot Satoru, you see him crouched by a bush and you don’t think that he’s hiding from you. From where you are, you hear his erratic breaths, short, panicked.
He's tired and you’re to blame for that.
Your eyes narrow before you scan the area and that’s when you see it. A human with a rifle pointed at Satoru. You often always think before you act, but there’d been an instinct that pushed you forward.
You managed to remain out of sight, but within a matter of seconds, you lunge at the human, aiming to push the rifle out of the way.
You do just that, catching the hunter off guard. He stumbles back, dropping the rifle and you grab it. Humans use weapons like this all the time, if you take it away, they’re left defenceless.
You don’t know how to use the weapon, but you suppose that if you ruin it, it’d be useless. So you mess around with, bend it and the hunter throws curses your way like you’d just left him homeless.
You glance up.
The hunter meets your gaze, and you stare him down. You’ve never seen him before and you know because you’d remember angry green eyes the regard you like you’re some prize, a mere catch that’d bag him a good load of money.
“Must be my fucking lucky day,” you manage to hear him murmur and you narrow your eyes. You don’t bother standing upright, you don’t feel the need to size him up.
That’s what males, and of many species, do. You don’t try to intimidate the human; you don’t even move from where you’re standing in front of Satoru. If he has his eyes set on you only, it makes your job much simpler.
The human’s jaw ticks and you grimace before shooting him a lethal snarl, but he doesn’t back down from it, doesn’t seem to be intimidated by you at all. You can tell that he’s probably used to this, that he’s probably seen hybrids much bigger than what you are and that’s why he’s not backing down from you.
He grabs what you make out to be a blade, and you frown. He’s not backing down, so neither will you.
He lunges at you and you manage to dodge the first swipe he throws your way. He moves fast, like he’s trained for this and that’s the part that throws you off guard.
You’re not so lucky the second time. The blade grazes your arm, and you hiss as blood seeps from the new wound. Satoru makes a sound behind you and his nerves mingle in the air. You freeze, noting his distress.
The human takes advantage of your distraction and knocks you to the ground. You push at him, knock the blade from his grasp in the midst of your struggle. Your senses come rushing back to you, you recall what it is that you’re doing.
The human brings his arm down and you sink your teeth into his flesh, earning you a groan. He pushes at your shoulder with a force that you have to admire coming from a human. Still, you don’t budge, you don’t relieve him of the pain that he’s feeling.
You roll over him and the human cusses at you. He moves to throw a punch your way, aiming for your jaw, but you stop him with your free hand and exhale through your nose. For a moment, you see something flicker in the human’s eyes, perhaps fear, perhaps panic or a medley of both.
The scent, the taste of copper drowns out anything else and it’s then that you begin to tug. Your teeth pulls at flesh, at sinewy muscle and the hunter grunts before making a pained sound.
You want to rip his arm off, you consider it, but the flicker in his eyes is something far too humane, something that resembles the lives that you refuse to take because you see no use in it.
You release him. You suppose that you’ve given him enough of a warning to get the message. He won’t be this lucky if he decides to come around again.
Your lips, mouth, chin are smothered in his blood and the hunter slips back, pushes himself back far enough before he stumbles away. You don’t watch him run off because you can’t guarantee that you’d let him escape if you do. Instead, you glance at the weapons he’d left behind, the ones damaged and the ones that are still in good condition.
Some seem like they’d be of use to you.
Satoru rushes to you in a matter of seconds, eyes wide and panicked as he scans your features, the cut on your arm and suddenly he’s babbling to himself while he tries his very best not to lose his mind over how you’d risked everything just to save him.
You hear the thumping of his heart, an erratic rhythm that’s almost deafening.
“Are you okay, princess? Oh god, that hunter scared the shit out of me—fuck, you’re bleeding—are you hurt anywhere else? Are you in pain? Do I need to–”
“Satoru.”
His mouth snaps shut, chest still stuttering as he attempts to compose himself. His eyes dart between yours and the blood adorning your face, still, he doesn’t make a move to get away from you.
His worry only seems to grow.
“I’m okay. It’s just a little scratch,” you gesture to your leg and although it’s not in sight, there is a scar, a reminder of one of the very few times you’ve experienced worse pain. “I’ve been through worse.”
“You scared me.”
You snort. “I thought you said the hunter did.”
Satoru shakes his head, keeps his ears pushed flat against his head as he cups your hands, his just the slightest bit smaller than yours.
“You scared me,” he repeats, voice shaky. “I thought that I was watching you die—when he pulled that knife out I froze because I got so scared, I’m so sorry that I couldn’t do anything.”
“Don’t apologise.” You huff out a chuckle, cupping Satoru’s face before pulling him closer. “You’re mine to protect, you know. I’ll do that all over again if it means that I get to save you. Besides, it was my fault that you were so tired in the first place.”
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Satoru finds himself in the town’s market searching for bandages, first-aid kits, anything that he can find that he’d be able to take back to you. He’d noticed that you were running low on a couple of supplies that would be near impossible to restock while staying out in the forest all on your own.
So, he’s taken it upon himself to get whatever he can in town.
He knows that you’re fine, that you’re not severely hurt—all healed up after having confronted the hunt—and that you saw to the cut on your arm all on your own, but he’d realized that he’s completely defenceless when it comes to helping you ward off dangers that lurk in the forest.
He'd saved you once, but that had simply been because you’d been caught in a trap that he’d set, because you’d been exhausted at the time. He remembers the tired look on your pretty face all too well.
Though, this, gathering supplies for you, is how he can help because the town he resides most of his time in doesn’t welcome predators. It’s for safety purposes, he understands that, but Satoru can’t help but feel that something has to change.
“It’s truly a shame that hunters are on the prowl again,” Shoko huffs, flicking at her ear that droops forward. “Though I’d count us lucky, the hunter didn’t show up to town.”
“I told you that leaving traps around the boarder would keep us safe.” Nanami drawls, tone monotonous and Satoru only shoots a quick glance his way.
They don’t know that the traps and fences aren’t the things keeping the town safe. It’s like they’re living in their own fantasy.
“We can’t always count on flimsy wires and old traps to keep unwanted company out,” Suguru sighs, running his fingers through his bangs, pushing the short tresses out of his face. “We’ll have to do something eventually.”
The group trudges along the walkway, past stalls and kiosks that advertise foods and snacks best suited for prey hybrids. From small snacks like berries and nuts to fruits and cooked vegetables.
The smells waft in the air, warm, sweet and familiar.
Suguru’s gaze finds Satoru, amethyst irises darting between the bag in his hands and the expression on his face.
“You’ve been awfully quiet, Satoru.” Suguru’s words have Shoko and Nanami peering over at him too, like they’d been thinking the same. “Did something happen while you were out?”
“No—nothing.”
“You know,” Suguru sighs, matching pace with Satoru. “With hunters wandering the forest, don’t you think that you should stay in town more often?”
There it is; the insistence to have him stay.
It’s no secret that Satoru stays out of town for more than just one reason. Yes, he patrols the area, yes he helps keep the town safe, but everyone knows that there’s a predator that moved here.
You.
They avoid you, but Satoru has made it known that he visits you frequently. He’s gotten weird looks because of it, but nobody says anything.
“It’d be wise to stay in town,” Nanami adds. “It seems that winter is going to take a toll on all of us this year and being isolated from the rest of us doesn’t seem like an approach that you should be taking if you want to survive.”
Satoru glances between his friends, but he doesn’t say anything. They notice, all three of them do, and they know that it’s unlike Satoru to remain so quiet.
He knows what they’re trying to do and just like any other occasion, it’s not going to work.
“I think I’m all good.” Satoru quickens his pace, just the slightest so that he’s not forced to walk between his friends, but Suguru doesn’t allow him to get away.
He huffs, pinched gaze narrowing.
“You can’t possibly think that you’re safe with that predator friend of yours. Who knows what she’ll try and do to you.”
Satoru thinks of the way you protected him, attacked an enemy that was by the means to deal a lot of damage. He doesn’t think that it’s luck, he isn’t foolish enough to credit fate for that.
It's your strength, your confidence and your determination that got you to chase the hunter off.
“What if she goes hungry and decides that you’re an easy meal?”
You don’t eat hybrid flesh; Satoru recalls you telling him that.
“Satoru, are you listening to me?”
“Yes, I am.”
Suguru glances back, eyeing Shoko and Nanami who haven’t bothered trying to catch up with them. Then he turns back to Satoru, and with a frown, he opens his mouth, “Then why aren’t you saying anything? Is it that difficult for you to see that I’m trying to help you?”
Suguru’s eyes flit to Satoru’s neck and he pales. He sees the bite marks that aren’t quite covered by the layers of clothes Satoru has on, he sees the bruises and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what those mean.
“She marked you.”
Satoru freezes, brings his hand up to his neck and shoots his gaze towards Suguru. He’s not panicked, but this isn’t how he planned on letting his friends know that he’s mated to you.
That he’s been mated to you.
“You mated with a predator?” Suguru’s face contorts and an ugly grimace settles on his face. “That’s disgusting, Satoru.”
He flinches at that, breath stuttering as his chest pulls tight. Satoru’s gaze trails over to Suguru, eerily slow before his eyes narrow.
“Don’t look at me like that. You’re acting like there aren’t perfectly suitable hybrids here, in town, to mate with.”
“Like who?”
Suguru goes silent at that. he’d expected the question, he really did, but somehow, he’s ill-prepared in being able to answer it.
“You might not be able to see it, but I’m right where I want to be.”
Suguru narrows his eyes, ignoring the ugly feeling simmering in his chest.
“Would you choose her over us? The people you grew up with? The town that you’ve sworn to keep safe?”
Satoru doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink as he stares at his best friend. He knows what he’s answer is, he knows that he’d choose you over anyone else.
“Yes.” Is the only thing Satoru utters.
He doesn’t wait, doesn’t meet Suguru’s gaze, doesn’t bother waiting behind as Shoko and Nanami catch up. He’s gone before they can ask questions.
Satoru rushes back to the cottage with the newly acquired supplies in hand. He sees you crouched outside; sees you wrap cloth around your palms; eyes laser focused on the task as you ensure that you secure the material around your hands.
You’ve considered using bandages, but you refuse to waste them.
“I brought some supplies—what are you doing?”
You blink, lifting your gaze as Satoru trudges over towards you, cerulean gaze fixating on your hands. He checks your hands, searches for a hint of crimson, but he realises that you’re not bleeding.
He doesn’t detect the scent of your blood in the air either.
Satoru exhales, relief escaping him in a heavy breath that has you raising a brow at him. He’s been awfully protective of you in his own way. He doesn’t crowd you, doesn’t mark you over and over, doesn’t breathe down your neck like you’re accustomed to due to instinct.
Instead, he’s quiet, searches for small cuts and bruises, offers you supplies much like right now. You see bandages amongst other things that’d better suit you in a time when you’re hurt.
“Just protecting my hands,” you hum before gesturing to your hunting equipment that you’d set aside. “Going on a hunt to prepare for hibernation.”
“Can I help?”
You pause, stealing a glance at him. “You don’t have to do that–”
“I want to help you prepare for hibernation,” his ears twitch and his nose scrunches in the way that it does when he’s adamant on a choice that he’s made.
You fight back a smile, fight the hearty laugh that threatens its way from deep in your chest.
Oh, how sweet he is.
“Fine, fine,” you chuckle and Satoru narrows his eyes at you.
“What’s so funny? You think that I’ll struggle?”
You shake your head, “No, no. It’s just that you’re talkative, you know?”
“I am not.”
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“They don’t understand. They think that they know what’s best for—okay, Shoko and Nanami haven’t said anything—I didn’t stick around to hear what they had to say.
You hum, hurling the deer that you’d managed to hunt down along with you as Satoru follows behind, still as chatty as ever. He hasn’t stopped talking just like you’d anticipated, but you don’t mind.
You’ve noted that he’s venting, so you allow him to. He had been helpful during your hunt too.
“I just don’t understand why Suguru doesn’t want to see what I see.”
You set the deer down, huffing out a breath as you dust your hands off. You glance at Satoru, raising a quizzical brow.
“What do you see that you’re wanting him to see?”
“My mate,” the answer comes quick, a little too quick and you fight the heat that burns your cheeks. “Perfect in every way—maybe almost as perfect as me.”
You huff, rolling your eyes at him. “How sweet.”
“I’m serious, I’m quite the catch. I just knew that I’d end up with someone who is able to match my strength.” He stands taller, puffs out his chest, but he lands against the ground with a yelp when you tackle him.
“Ah yes, Satoru Gojo, strongest little bunny I know.”
He flushes as you keep him pinned down. He doesn’t struggle, doesn’t even bother. You’ve wrestled countless times and Satoru knows when he’s at a loss. He simply pouts as you smile down at him.
“That’s not fair—you caught me off guard.”
“Did I now?”
He exhales, though peers up at you with wide eyes, absolutely smitten by you.
“It’s crazy to think that my friends think that you’ll eat me.”
You don’t say anything in response to that, only smirk before leaning down and allowing your lips to graze his neck. His body jerks, but not because of fear, but because you graze that weak spot of his.
“Oh… what am I to do, huh?” You huff, kissing along Satoru’s pale flesh. “You’re not safe out here with me at all.”
Your tongue swirls along his flesh, leaves a bruise that you’re proud of. He doesn’t say anything, allows himself to exhale heavy breaths as you mark his neck. He does allow his hands to wander, and you sigh, a pleasured little sound.
He grows harder beneath you, you feel it, you smell the evidence of his need from under his clothes. You grind against him and Satoru curses under his breath. He mimics your behaviour, allows himself to lick a trail along your neck before nibbling on it.
Your eyes flutter.
“Careful, Satoru, or I might just eat you.”
His breath stutters and he presses up against you, a silent plea for more.
Your lips quirk and you fight the smirk that pulls at the corners of your mouth before you push yourself lower, making yourself comfortable between Satoru’s legs.
“Your friends are right, you know?” You tug at his pants before pulling them down, allowing his cock to spring free, hot, heavy and leaking at the cusp.
Satoru makes a desperate sound, one that goes straight to your pussy.
“So many predators out here that would want to eat you,” you place a kiss on his globular tip, flushed a dark shade of rosy pink. It feels hot against your lips and your tongue darts out for a moment to lap the fat bead of ivory that had collected there.
The sweetness of him blooms across your tongue and you exhale through your nose, pupils dilating.
“Imagine that, hmm?”
Satoru says your name, catches his plump bottom lip between his teeth while he fights the urge to buck his hips. Tears brim his eyes, not because he’s scared, not because instinct is compelling his emotions, but because his cock aches, because you’re torturing him.
“Mhm?” Your tongue glides along the length of him, over the veins that decorate his shaft and all the way back to his tip.
“Please, princess.” He sucks in a breath when you pinch that sensitive spot on the underside of his cock, pressing the curve of your thumb against it and it has stars bursting behind his eyes.
“Please what, ‘Toru?”
“Stop teasing me, I’m not… fuck… I’m not built for that kind of torture.”
You give him what he wants. The heat of your mouth envelopes him as your teeth graze his flesh, just enough to tease, just enough to make him twitch at the sensation. You bob your head, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock while the taste of his arousal lingers on your tastebuds.
Satoru whimpers, his fingers curling into the ground below as you slurp on the tip of his cock while massaging the base. You work him just like that, occasionally alternating between pinching and pressing up against the more sensitive parts of his cock.
Your pussy throbs, eager too and Satoru catches a whiff of it from where he is.
“You’re so hard.”
“And you’re so wet—fuck, can smell you from here, princess.”
You kiss the tip of his cock again before swallowing it again until your nose brushes the coarse hairs at the base of it. You moan and the vibrations shoot right through Satoru and he moans, bucks his hips at how tight, how warm your throat is.
He doesn’t last long; he couldn’t ever last long with you if he tried. He cums with a whine, cock twitching in your mouth as silky fluid shoots to the back of your throat.
You drink it all up as need courses through you and it’s in that moment that you realise that you won’t get to experience this once winter arrives, because when sleep claims you, you won’t be able to feel or taste Satoru like this.
“Gonna miss you while I’m asleep,” you sigh, pulling off him, cunt throbbing while need drenches your inner thighs. “Gonna miss feeling you.”
You crawl over him and Satoru groans when you line your entrance up with his cock. Your slit kisses his tip so sweetly, drools all over it that makes the contact sloppy. You gasp when the fat head of his cock nudges past your folds, grazing your orifice when you lower yourself.
Down.
“Let me—fuck—that’s tight, you’re tight.”
And down.
“Princess… hnngh–”
You sink lower and inch after inch, your pussy swallows Satoru’s cock, eats the entire length of it as he fills you, stretches you. He feels so good, too good and feeling the way his vein-streaked shaft grazes your treacly innards has your eyes rolling back.
“Please, Satoru, wanna feel you.”
He groans, whimpers as you clamp around him and his Adam’s apple bobs with the restraint it takes to keep himself from blowing a load into you. His tip nudges that sweet spot of yours and you moan, a soft little cry that reverberates in the air for all the critters to hear.
“Here, you are—hah—feeling me, princess.”
You lift your hips before they come down again, pussy gushing all over Satoru’s length as you tend to that needy feeling of yours. You want him deeper, you need him deeper and you grind against him, rubbing your clit against his pubes.
His scent cradles the air around you, suffocates you. You feel hot, needy and so close to an orgasm that it’s almost embarrassing.
“A-are you in heat?”
You are. He smells it, smells the sweetness that permeates in the air and it’s early. Extremely early. That explains it too. The heat, the need and your desperation to feel him.
“Mngh, ‘Toru, please—feels so good.”
Satoru’s cheeks flush, they burn bright and his cock throbs, swells at the thought that he’s the reason why your heat is so early. You need him so bad that your body responds in the only way it knows how.
“You want me to breed you?” His hands find your waist; he massages the flesh there as your thighs tremble and quiver as your hips come down with the obscenest of squelches. “You gonna feel a growing baby all winter long? That what you want?”
“Please.”
He groans and your eyes flutter before a yelp slips from your lips when he forces his hips up, fucks you from below while you take what you need from him. You loll forward, still bouncing on Satoru’s cock like it’d save you.
Your orgasm hits you and you flood Satoru’s cock, walls fluttering around his length. Your release coaxes another orgasm from him, and he fills you with a groan, decorating your walls with ivory that mixes with your sap.
It leaks from you, adorns Satoru’s pelvis in a thick layer, but neither of you care.
“Again… mngh… more, ‘Toru.”
You commit every ridge of him to memory, bury the feel of it deep in your mind so that you’ll feel him for months, so that you’ll feel him in your dreams when the time comes. You stay just there, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from Satoru until even your mind goes numb.
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You run on autopilot the last couple of days before winter officially arrives. It had been difficult because like you’d wanted, Satoru’s seed had taken root, had planted itself inside of you and as a result, you’ve had to battle with nausea.
Still, you didn’t let that stop you.
Satoru does manage to help you where he can, but he doesn’t work as fast as what you do. If you’re not eating and then eventually throwing the food up, then you’re out, gathering firewood, chopping down trees like everything is normal.
Everything is not normal. You’re not supposed to be spilling the food you consume. Satoru knows that because you’re preparing for hibernation and you’re going to need all the energy and vitamins that you can get.
You even go as far as checking for tracks left behind by hunters, you mark your territory to keep other predators away by carving either a blade or your nails into tree trunks. You’ve been adamant on keeping Satoru safe while you know that you physically wouldn’t be able to while you’re asleep.
Satoru doesn’t like that you’re doing everything all on your own, doesn’t like that there isn’t much that he can do for you. He sees it in your eyes, an almost blank stare that suggests that you’re simply following instinct.
He’s never seen you be so busy either, hasn’t ever been around you during your preparations for winter. It makes sense because he’d only met you last spring, but even though there is an urge to help, he can’t help but admire you more.
You do the same things over and over again, but Satoru can’t get enough.
He manages to help in small ways, saves you time by leaving small portions of berries or nuts for you to snack on, because you’re able to stomach those, he starts a campfire so that you don’t have to bother when you prepare meat for roasting and he mimics the marks you leave on the tree trunks all on his own for extra measure.
He slowly learns the ways of a predator preparing for hibernation and he does it so that he can help you. It makes him feel useful.
Satoru is currently out, said that he wanted to do a few things in town and you’d been so adamant on waiting for him, but lethargy is quickly kicking in.
You begin the last of your preparations just to keep yourself awake. You snack on the last little bits of food Satoru had left out for you and before doing anything else, you take a bath, soak up the heat of the water that has you feeling drowsy.
Satoru still hasn’t returned by the time you’re finished, and you head on over to your bedroom.
You hum to yourself, staring at the articles of clothing that you have. You’ve spent a long time crafting them yourself, using flax fibre, furs and animal hide, but there’s a thought that teases you at the back of your mind.
Your lips tug upward.
Another yawn escapes you and you mumble to yourself. Satoru isn’t here and as much as you want to, you can’t wait for him. Your body, your instincts coax you to find some place warm and comfortable.
You turn, trudge over to your bed before slipping under all of the blankets you’d laid down for yourself before. You stretch before making yourself comfortable on your side, curling into yourself.
You murmur something, Satoru’s name perhaps, you don’t quite hear yourself.
Your eyes flutter shut, eyelids heavy. The warmth of the blankets helps coax you to sleep and it doesn’t take long before your breaths become shallow. Your heart follows a steady rhythm and just like that, you fall into a slumber that’d help get you through the harsh weather.
nagi seishiro? everyone describes him as lazy and sloppy. and you were no exception to that, whenever you two went out? he’d be walking like he was half-dead. morning routines? it takes a war tank just to pull him out of bed. even during sex, you practically have to beg him to pull out whenever you felt his dick twitch inside of you, signalling he was about to cum, “n-nagi! pull out! fffuck, mnngh!” “mmn, i know, i know. you jus’ feel so good, angel.” he mumbled against your shoulder before he pulled out, lifted his body up and giving his cock some shallow pumps as he came onto your stomach.
one day, nagi suddenly went out without you. weird. you didn’t think much of it, maybe he was with reo, or a game caught his eye when you were out the other day. you were sat at the living room on your phone while waiting for your boyfriend to come back.
your head snapped to the main entrance as the lock made a “click!” sound, nagi didn’t have anything on him, but a square-shaped thing in the pouch of his hoodie. “sei! welcome back, where were you?” “mmh.” he responded hesitantly, going over to where you were at and sitting next to you, reaching into the pouch of his hoodie and taking out a box, handing it to you.
…birth control. you stared at the box dumbfounded for a bit, then staring back at him, waiting for him to say something while his blank face was still staring at you, swallowing the lump in his throat as he started to speak softly. “pulling out’s a hassle. and you don’t like condoms. so,” he pointed towards the box.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
you were on top of nagi, hands on his shoulders as your body was bouncing up and down onto his cock, it hitting your g-spot everytime you slammed down onto him as usual. he had his eyes shut, moaning each time gravity pulled you down as he kept his hands on your hips. “y-you’re 100% sure this’ll be okay? mnngh,, cuz i’m on the pill n everything,” “yes. jus’ keep going, sweet girl.” in all honesty, he had no idea. he was more than willing to take care of you if anything went wrong, so what was there to worry about?
you couldn’t help but trust his gentle words, his tender voice, his soft expression . . . it was all so attracting. you nodded gently, falling limp onto his body as you let your hips do the work, the slapping from your skin being able to be heard echoing down the halls to downstairs. nagi placed multiple hickeys onto your neck while his hips jerked upwards occasionally to contribute to the pleasure. your lower body was burning, yet you couldn’t help but to keep chasing your high in desperation.
eventually, you tapped out , being a panting mess as you laid atop of your boyfriend. nagi caught on quickly, holding onto your waist and starting to thrust upwards, earning a moan from you from the unexpected contact to your cervix. “mmmgggahhh! ssseiii!!!.. right there!, ffuck babe,” your body arched towards him as he placed tender kisses onto any patch of skin he could find. “g’na cum inside you, mmkay?” he mumbled against your neck, feeling his dick twitch inside you.
“uhuhhh.. pleaase seiii..” your moans were staggered all around. you felt yourself getting closer, gripping onto nagis shoulders out of the pleasure you were feeling. “nagi!! gonna cum, gonnacumgonnacum!!—” he let out a hum before you released onto his cock, feeling a sea of his cum filling your stomach. he whimpered softly, throwing his head back as he placed one last thrust into you to make sure everything went in you. “fffuck angel.. lift y’rself up for me. lemme see.” he said in a demanding yet soft tone.
you slowly lifted yourself up with the support of your legs as one of his hands trailed to your lower stomach, feeling the bulge there caused by his cum and his cock filling you up. he let out a low hum at the sight, pulling you back down and kissing your temple, slowly pulling out of you, letting everything leak onto the sheets. “mmnn. we should do this more often.” he muttered. nagi felt a sense of possessiveness and ownership over you when he saw you take such a big load of his arousal into your petite hole. safe to say, you need to make trips to the pharmacy every once a month to get more pills for yourself now.
WE LISTEN AND WE DON’T JUDGE : BLUE LOCK EDITION . . . m—dni. f ! reader / it’s either pretty tame or freaky idk / doing it raw / creamp!es / virginity and being inexperienced / some ooc but this is just for fun / not proofread
isagi yoichi ⋮ before your relationship was established he really really liked you and didn’t want to mess it up. but then he wasn’t sure if you were on the pill but the sex was so good he ended up coming inside you. proceeded to suck his cum out for your pussy cause of the panic. didn’t have sex with you for a week after that but you were fine.
nagi seishiro ⋮ played a game where he can customize the character and got really pissed off because it wasn’t even half as pretty as you. sulking each time he dies because he think he ‘failed you.’ ended up quitting the game too because he found out there was sex in the game and he wouldn’t want the ‘game you’ being with anyone else that wasn’t him. even got jealous one time because he didn’t know that he was increasing his character’s relationship level with an npc who looked too much like his teammate. too many emotions while you’re watching him lose his mind when you’re perfectly fine eating snacks on the bed. having to console him by riding him and telling him you only love him and not barou.
tabito karasu ⋮ pays for your nails when you get an appointment so you could jack him off after. will also take photos of your nails for you, with one jerking his cock of course. got this pavlov effect that he gets hard every time you show him your fresh new set. yeah he’s ruined.
itoshi rin ⋮ he was a virgin before he met you, and ended up cumming each time he bottomed out the first few times you guys did it. he was inexperienced and very sensitive since he wasn’t used to it. he was still always hard after so it didn’t matter. unaware he was crying one time because he was so overstimulated while you’re clenching down so hard causing his cum to spill.
shoei barou ⋮ you were supposed to meetup with someone else that your friend suggested but you weren’t really sure if it was him when you arrived at the meeting place. ended up going on the date with him and hooking up at the end only for you to find out he wasn’t actually the guy. “what was i supposed to do? deny a pretty girl like you?” went on a few more dates anyway and ended up establishing the relationship properly <3 [ do not be like them! ]
rensuke kunigami ⋮ you were the first person to ever give him head. it felt too good and better than expected. you told him you weren’t too experienced but you worked on him like a pro. he was scared he could hurt you so instead of holding onto your head he gripped onto the wooden headboards. when he came, he held onto it too hard he broke the top part in half.
chigiri hyoma ⋮ moaned out your name during a wet dream. until it shifted, “take it! fucking take it” he said. his teammates weren’t sure if they should wake him up any time soon and they weren’t too sure how to face you after hearing that.
do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works
note : i have no idea what came over me writing these but here u go crying during sex rin hell yeah!!!
Roommates Wanted!
fem!reader x o. aiku x s. ryusei x i. sae
fic series
summary: a group of unique personalities come together to be roommates. chaos, comfort, and romance? maybe.
tags and themes: no soccer exists here, crack, fluff, angst, roommates au, very ooc, usage of nicknames (princess, babe, sweetheart), itoshi rin exists here, applications of headcannons (shidou's origin hc), aiku being a teacher (eb), shidou as an mma instructor (hc), sae as an editor (author's choice), reader is a front desk officer
── synopsis .✦ married as a truce, you are bound to emperor suguru geto, a man who keeps you at a careful, infuriating distance. when your patience finally snaps, an argument forces the truth into the open: his restraint was never indifference, but love he believed was unreturned.
── contains .✦ emperor!suguru, arranged marriage trope, princess!reader, fem!reader, light angst, miscommunication, or lack of, brat taming, hair pulling, spanking, doggy style, missionary, belly bulges, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cockdrunk!reader, whipped!suguru, pussydrunk!suguru, breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink, oral (f!recieving), aftercare, suguru might be a little crazy about reader, obsessed!suguru?, mdni!
── word count .✦ 4.1k!
You had always known that your life was not entirely your own.
As the daughter of a beleaguered king from a small, resource-strapped kingdom on the fringes of the empire, your existence had been shaped by the whims of politics and survival.
Whispers of war had echoed through the marble halls of your family’s palace for years, growing louder with each passing season as the mighty Empire of the East expanded its borders like an unyielding tide.
Your father, a man whose crown weighed heavier on his brow than on his head, had exhausted every diplomatic avenue, every tribute of gold and grain, to appease the emperor who loomed over all like a shadow.
And then came the proposal – not a request, but a decree.
The emperor, Suguru Geto, would spare your kingdom from conquest if you were offered to him in marriage.
It was a bargain struck in desperation, your hand traded for the lives of thousands. You had no say in the matter, of course. Your protests fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the clamor of relief from your father’s advisors.
“It is an honor,” they told you, their voices laced with false cheer. “The emperor himself has chosen you.”
But honor felt like a chain around your neck as preparations for the wedding consumed the kingdom.
Servants bustled about, draping your chambers in silks imported from the imperial capital, fitting you for gowns that whispered of elegance and submission. And through it all, the stories about him painted a portrait that chilled you to the bone.
Suguru Geto was no ordinary ruler; he was a force of nature cloaked in imperial robes.
They said he was cold, his precision in governance as sharp as a blade. He commanded entire rooms without uttering a word – his mere presence enough to silence dissent and bend wills. Always serious, never one for frivolity or warmth, he ruled with an iron fist wrapped in velvet gloves.
Rumors swirled of his unyielding stare, capable of stripping away pretenses and exposing the raw truth beneath. You imagined him as a statue come to life, beautiful perhaps, but devoid of the spark that made men human.
The journey to the imperial capital was a blur of guarded caravans and endless roads flanked by the empire’s vast armies.
Your heart pounded with a mix of dread and resignation as the towering spires of the palace came into view, piercing the sky like the teeth of some ancient beast.
The wedding itself was a spectacle orchestrated to perfection, a union of power and sacrifice under the watchful eyes of nobles, generals, and foreign envoys. You stood at the altar in a gown of crimson and gold, the colors of the empire, feeling like a lamb adorned for the altar.
And then he appeared.
Suguru Geto stepped forward from the shadows of the grand hall, his presence rippling through the assembled crowd like a stone dropped into still water.
He was taller than you had envisioned, his frame lean and commanding, clad in robes of deep black embroidered with silver threads that caught the light from the chandeliers above.
His long, dark hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, framing a face that was both strikingly handsome and profoundly unreadable. High cheekbones, full lips pressed into a firm line, and eyes – those piercing dark eyes – that seemed to hold the weight of empires within them. He moved with a deliberate grace, each step measured, as if the very ground yielded to his will.
You expected the coldness, the precision, but not this... politeness.
As the ceremony began, officiated by a high priest whose voice echoed off the vaulted ceilings, Suguru turned to you. His gaze met yours for the first time, and there was no disdain, no indifference – just a quiet intensity that made your breath catch.
“It is an honor to stand before you today.” He said, his voice smooth and low, carrying the weight of formality without the edge of cruelty you had feared. The words were polite, scripted perhaps, but delivered with a sincerity that surprised you.
When the time came for the exchange of vows, his hand reached for yours. His touch was firm, fingers encircling your wrist with a possessiveness that sent a murmur through the onlookers.
To them, it must have looked like a claim, a silent declaration of ownership over the bride offered from a conquered land. His thumb brushed lightly against your pulse point, a fleeting contact that lingered just a moment too long, possessive in its subtlety.
But to you, it felt restrained, as if he were holding back a tide of something deeper. He didn’t squeeze or demand; instead, he released your hand with a gentle precision, stepping back to allow the priest to continue.
The feast that followed was a whirlwind of opulence: toasts raised in crystal goblets, platters of exotic fruits and roasted meats, musicians playing melodies that wove through the air like silk.
Suguru sat beside you at the high table, his posture impeccable, engaging in quiet conversations with his advisors. He turned to you occasionally, offering a nod or a brief question about your journey, always polite, always reserved.
“I hope the capital treats you well.” He commented at one point, his eyes flicking to yours before returning to the room. There was no overt possessiveness now, just that careful distance, as if he were navigating an invisible boundary.
You nodded, murmuring your thanks, but inside, confusion swirled. The man before you was not the monster of rumors; he was serious, yes, but his politeness disarmed you.
Yet, as the night wore on and the guests departed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was merely the beginning of a life tethered to a stranger.
The first weeks of your marriage unfolded in a haze of adjustment.
The imperial palace was a labyrinth of grandeur: endless corridors lined with tapestries depicting the empire’s triumphs, gardens that bloomed eternally under the care of silent gardeners, and chambers that dwarfed anything you had known back home.
Your days were filled with the quiet routines of a new empress: lessons in court etiquette from stern-faced tutors, audiences with the emperor’s inner circle where you were introduced as a symbol of unity, and solitary afternoons wandering the palace grounds, trying to find your place in this vast, impersonal world.
Suguru, true to the tales, was a phantom in your shared life.
He rose before dawn for council meetings, his days consumed by the machinery of empire – decrees on trade routes, strategies against border skirmishes, audiences with vassal lords.
You saw him at meals, formal affairs where conversation was sparse and laced with protocol. He would inquire after your comfort with that same polite detachment:
“Have the seamstresses provided suitable attire?” or “Does the library suit your interests?”
His touches, when they occurred, were minimal: a hand at the small of your back to guide you through a crowded hall, fingers that rested there with a firmness that bordered on possessive, drawing sidelong glances from the courtiers.
But he never lingered, never crossed into intimacy. He was trying, you sensed, not to overstep, to respect the boundaries of an arrangement born of necessity rather than choice.
Nights were the hardest. Your shared bedchamber was a masterpiece of luxury, with a canopied bed draped in silks and a balcony overlooking the city lights.
But Suguru retired late, often after you had feigned sleep, slipping into the adjoining study to pore over scrolls by candlelight.
When he did join you, it was with a quiet efficiency – he changed into night robes, bid you goodnight with a nod, and turned his back, leaving an ocean of space between you on the mattress. No overtures, no attempts to bridge the gap.
You lay awake, staring at the ornate ceiling, wondering if this was to be your existence: a beautiful cage, shared with a husband who treated you like a fragile artifact.
Months slipped by in this rhythm, the initial novelty of palace life giving way to a creeping isolation.
You threw yourself into diversions to fill the void: studying the empire’s history in the vast library, where shelves towered like ancient trees; tending to a small herb garden in the secluded east wing, the soil grounding you in something tangible; even hosting modest teas for the wives of nobles, though their conversations often skirted around you, laced with curiosity about the “foreign bride.”
Your kingdom’s tribute arrived regularly, reports from your father assuring you that peace held, but the letters were tinged with gratitude that felt like another layer of your sacrifice.
Suguru’s routine remained unchanging. He commanded the court with effortless authority, his presence alone quelling debates in the throne room.
You observed him from afar during public sessions, noting how ministers straightened at his approach, how his rare words cut through noise like a scalpel.
He was precise in everything – his edicts fair but unyielding, his gaze assessing without cruelty. Yet, in private moments, when your paths crossed in the halls, his politeness persisted.
A slight bow of the head, a murmured “Good morning,” and that occasional touch – a brush of knuckles against your arm as he passed a document, possessive in its intent but withdrawn before it could unsettle.
But the distance gnawed at you. As a married woman, you were expected to embody grace and companionship, yet your husband barely acknowledged your existence beyond duty.
Whispers among the servants reached your ears: “The emperor is reserved,” they said, “but perhaps he finds the arrangement... unappealing.”
It stung, fueling a frustration that simmered beneath your composed exterior. You were no longer the sheltered princess; you were an empress in name, but a ghost in practice.
Nights alone in that vast bed amplified the loneliness, the silk sheets cold against your skin, the silence broken only by the distant toll of bells marking the hours.
One evening, after six months of this silent coexistence, the weight became unbearable.
The sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the palace in hues of amber and shadow. You had spent the day in the gardens, pruning roses that bloomed defiantly despite the chill in the air, but your mind wandered to the man who shared your title yet not your life.
Dinner had been a solitary affair in your chambers, the food tasteless on your tongue. Suguru was late again, his study door closed against the world.
You couldn’t take it anymore. Straightening your shoulders, you crossed the room and knocked firmly on the study door. Silence, then a quiet “Enter.”
Pushing it open, you found him at his desk, surrounded by maps and ledgers, his hair slightly disheveled from hours of work – a rare glimpse of vulnerability. He looked up, surprise flickering in those dark eyes before it was schooled into his usual composure.
“Is everything alright?” He asked, setting down his quill.
You stepped inside, closing the door behind you with a decisive click. The room smelled of ink and parchment, a masculine scent that mingled with the faint trace of sandalwood from his robes.
“No,” you began, your voice steadier than you felt, “everything is not alright. We’ve been married for half a year, Suguru, and you treat me like a stranger in my own home. You command empires with a glance, yet you can’t even look at me without this... wall between us.”
He rose slowly, his height unfolding like a shadow lengthening. For a moment, he was silent, his expression unreadable.
Then, he moved around the desk, stopping a respectful distance away.
“I apologize if I’ve made you feel unwelcome,” he replied, his tone polite as ever, but there was a tension in his jaw, a subtle shift in his posture. “This marriage was arranged for the good of your people. I did not wish to impose upon you more than necessary.”
“Impose?” You laughed, a sharp sound that echoed in the quiet space. “We’re husband and wife, not distant allies. You leave me alone to wander these halls, doing ’your own thing’ while I do mine.”
Your voice rose, laced with the bitterness that had been festering for months. “Months have passed, and I feel more isolated here than I ever did in my father’s palace. Do you even see me? Or am I just a symbol to parade at court?”
Crossing your arms, you glared at him, your cheeks flushed with the heat of confrontation. “I gave up everything – my home, my freedom – for this sham, and you can’t even pretend to be interested? It’s humiliating. Everyone whispers about the distant emperor and his unwanted bride. If you hate this as much as I think you do, just say it. End this farce.”
Suguru rose from his chair in one fluid motion, his height towering over you as he rounded the desk.
His expression shifted, the polite mask cracking to reveal a glint of something wilder, more intense: a slight craze flickering in his eyes, like a man on the edge of unleashing what he’d kept chained.
He closed the distance between you in two strides, backing you against the wall with his body, not touching yet, but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. His hands planted on either side of your head, caging you in, his face inches from yours.
Those dark eyes bored into you, pupils dilated with obsession, his breath coming a touch quicker.
“You think I ignore you?” His voice was low, a growl edged with that controlled madness, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes – eyes that burned with possession.
“Gods, woman, you’ve been driving me insane. I love you– obsess over you. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve jerked my cock to stop myself from bending you over the nearest surface?”
His words hit you like a wave, raw and unfiltered, his body pressing closer now, one hand sliding to your waist in a grip that was firm; unyielding.
You opened your mouth to retort, frustration still sparking. “You could’ve just—”
But he cut you off by crashing his lips against yours, the kiss fierce and demanding, his tongue sweeping in to claim every inch.
It wasn’t gentle – it was a release, his obsession pouring out as he devoured you, one hand tangling in your hair to tilt your head back.
When he pulled away, both of you breathing hard, his forehead rested against yours, eyes wild.
“No more waiting,” he murmured, voice husky with need. “You’re coming with me. Now.”
Before you could protest or process, he scooped you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carried you out of the study and down the dimly lit corridor to his private chambers. The palace was quiet at this hour, servants dismissed, leaving only the echo of his boots on the stone floor.
He kicked the heavy door shut behind you, the sound final, and deposited you on the edge of the massive bed, its linens rumpled from his earlier retreat.
You glared up at him, heart pounding, a mix of anger and something hotter swirling in your chest. “You think you can just manhandle me like that? After ignoring me for months?”
Suguru’s eyes darkened, that slight craze sharpening as he loomed over you, shrugging off his outer robe to reveal the taut lines of his chest beneath a simple tunic.
“Oh, I think I can.” He mused, his tone laced with something dark. “And I will. You’ve been a bratty little thing, haven’t you? Snapping at me like you don’t crave this as much as I do. But don’t worry, I’ll fix that attitude.”
He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to your feet and spinning you around with surprising gentleness despite the command in his movements. His hands worked quickly at the ties of your robes, peeling them away until you stood bare before him, the cool air raising goosebumps on your skin.
You shivered, trying to twist back to face him, but his palm pressed between your shoulder blades, guiding you down onto the bed on all fours.
“Stay.” He ordered, voice firm. “Ass up, like the needy wife you are.”
Heat flooded your face, frustration bubbling up as you shot a glare over your shoulder. “Needy? You’re the one who’s been—ah!”
The first spank landed sharp on your ass, the sting blooming into warmth that made you gasp. His hand soothed the spot immediately after, rubbing circles that contrasted the correction.
“Watch that mouth.” He warned, though his voice held a thread of praise. “Such a pretty slut, thinking you can talk back to your emperor. But you’ll learn.”
You bit your lip, trying to hold onto the fire, but another spank followed, harder, jolting you forward. “Suguru, you can’t just—”
He tugged your hair then, pulling your head back gently but insistently, forcing you to arch as he leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear. “I can, and I will. You’ve teased me for months without knowing it. Now, spread those legs wider. Show me how wet you are from this.”
Defiance flickered, but so did desire, your body betraying you as you complied, thighs parting to reveal the slickness between them.
Suguru groaned low in his throat, shedding the rest of his clothes until his hard cock sprang free, thick and veined, the tip already glistening. He positioned himself behind you, the head nudging your entrance, teasing without entering.
“Look at you, dripping for it. Such a good girl under all that attitude, aren’t you? Or do I need to spank this greedy pussy to remind you?”
You pushed back against him, bratty even now. “Just put it in already, or are you all talk?”
His chuckle was dark, obsessed, as he yanked your hair again, the pull sending sparks down your spine.
“Eager wifey.” He murmured, degradation mixing with the way his free hand praised by stroking your hip. “But you’ll beg properly soon.”
With one thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching your walls around his girth.The sensation was overwhelming – full, burning, perfect – and your attitude shattered in an instant.
A moan tore from your throat, your arms buckling as you melted beneath him, body going pliant, obedient. No more fight; just surrender to the cock that filled you so completely.
Suguru stilled, buried deep, his hand releasing your hair to grip your hips instead.
“There it is…” He teased, voice smug as he rocked shallowly, letting you feel every inch. “One push of my cock, and the brat disappears. Look at you, melting like the cockdrunk wife you were meant to be. So obedient now, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
You whimpered, nodding into the sheets, the words hitting harder than any spank. “Y-Yes... please, Suguru...”
He laughed softly, starting a slow rhythm, pulling out almost to the tip before sliding back in, dragging against your inner walls. Each thrust built the pressure, his hands roaming: one spanking your ass lightly now, more for emphasis than punishment, the other tugging your hair to keep your back arched.
“That’s better. My perfect little whore, taking it so well. You’ve been begging for this without words, haven’t you? Strutting around, making my cock ache every night.”
The pace quickened gradually, his hips snapping forward with precision, the slap of skin on skin filling the chamber.
You pushed back to meet him, lost in the drag of his length, the way he hit that spot deep inside over and over. Dialogue flowed between thrusts, his voice a constant tease.
“Tell me how it feels, wife. Does my cock shut that smart mouth of yours?”
You tried to respond sassily at first, the remnants of frustration lingering. “It– it’s good, but you could—oh fuck—go harder...”
Another thrust, sharper, making your ass jiggle and your pussy clench tighter around him.
“Harder? Greedy– n-ngh, greedy brat.” He growled, tugging your hair to pull you up slightly, his chest pressing to your back. “I’ll fuck you until you can’t talk back if you don’t learn to beg f’me.”
“Please,” you gasped, the word breaking free as pleasure coiled tight. “Harder, please, Suguru...”
He obliged, pounding into you with relentless force, his cock bulging your belly slightly with each deep plunge – you could feel it, the outline pressing against your skin from inside.
“Good girl.” He cooed, dragging out each syllable in an almost childish manner. “Look at that – my cock reshaping your pretty pussy. You’re mine now, all mine.”
The first orgasm crashed over you without warning, walls fluttering wildly as you cried out, soaking his length with your release.
But he didn’t stop, thrusting through it, his hand slipping around to rub your clit in firm circles. “Holy shit.” He murmured, obsessed edge in his voice. “Cum again for me, show me how much you need this.”
You were a mess, babbling incoherently as he dragged it out, the overstimulation making your thighs quake. “Suguru—ah!—too much... can’t...”
“You can.” He commanded, spanking once more for good measure, the sting pushing you higher. “Be my lovely wife and cum on your– mmf, your emperor’s cock.”
The second climax built slower, deeper, his pace varying: slow grinds that let you feel the belly bulge, then fast snaps that had you seeing stars.
When it hit, you squirted, gushing around him in hot spurts that drenched the sheets, your body convulsing as you wailed his name.
Suguru groaned, his control fraying. “Fuck, yes—take it all.”
With a final, brutal thrust, he came, flooding your pussy with thick ropes of cum, his hips jerking as he painted your insides white.
He stayed buried, grinding to push it deeper, whispering, “Gonna breed you, fill you up until you’re swollen with my child. My pretty girl, carrying my heir.”
He pulled out slowly after, cum leaking from you, but he wasn’t done.
Flipping you onto your back with ease, he settled between your thighs in missionary, sliding back in with a wet squelch. Your legs hooked around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer as he loomed over you, eyes locked on yours: wild, loving, crazed.
Now, with him face-to-face, the teasing shifted.
You were fully cockdrunk, mind hazy, body pliant as he rocked into you languidly at first, letting the sensitivity build anew.
“Look at you,” he cooed, mixed praise dripping from his lips. “So fucked out already, but still greedy for more. Pussy milking me like it never wants me to leave.”
You nodded hazily, not really processing, just agreeing on instinct. “Uh-huh... more...”
He chuckled, low and affectionate, thrusting deeper to emphasize the belly bulge again, his hand pressing on it. “That’s right, just agree. You’re not even listening, are you? Too cockdrunk to think, huh?”
“Mmh, yeah.” You murmured, eyes half-lidded, lost in the sensation as he picked up speed.
Conversation turned to moans and affirmatives from you, while he teased relentlessly. “Such a good girl now, no more brattiness. Just my pliant girl, taking every inch. Gonna cum inside again, ’kay?”
The rhythm dragged on, his cock stirring his previous load inside you, the slick sounds obscene.
He kissed you deeply, swallowing your whimpers, then trailed bites down your neck as he angled to hit your g-spot. “Feel that? Yeah? Tell me you’re mine, sweetheart.”
“I’m yours…!” You breathed, the words automatic, mind adrift in bliss.
He laughed again, the sound vibrating through you. “Damn right you are. Fucked so stupid, aren’t you? But you love it.”
The final orgasm built like a tidal wave, shared this time. Your walls clamped down, squirting weakly around him as you shattered, crying out.
Suguru followed seconds later, groaning as he emptied another load, hips stuttering. “Hngh, fuck! Take it…!”
Spent, he eased out, but instead of collapsing, he kissed down your body, settling between your legs. “Gonna clean you up.” He promised, voice soft now, obsessed tenderness shining through.
His tongue lapped at your folds, gathering the mix of cum and your juices, sucking gently on your clit until you twitched oversensitive.
“M’kay…” You mumbled, too tired to do anything but agree, especially when he talked so sweetly.
He hummed approval, delving deeper, fucking you with his tongue to scoop out his seed. “Can’t let it go to waste. Taste so good mixed with me.”
You carded fingers through his hair, boneless, as aftershocks rippled.
When he finished, he crawled up, pulling you into his arms. Your bodies tangled, his chest to your back, hand splayed possessively over your stomach.
“Sleep now, my love.” He whispered, pressing kisses to your shoulder. “Won’t avoid you anymore.”
Exhaustion claimed you both, drifting off in a cocoon of warmth, the months of distance forgotten in the intimacy you’d finally claimed.
a/n: can you guys tell when i started rushing this.. i also tried to get fancy i dont know if it worked i just hope you guys like it..
yousharknotpass
vaporwave
romaincrisis
gummygunk
kianamaiart
