riding your boyfriend satoru for the first time (o^^o)
you're already halfway down when you realize you might have bitten off more than you can handle.
satoru's cock stretches you open inch by inch, and even with all the prep—his fingers, his mouth, the way he worked you open on the bed of his dorm room until you were dripping and begging—it's still a lot. he's big. you knew that from the way he'd felt against your thigh, from the way he'd groaned when you'd wrapped your hand around him earlier. knowing and feeling are two very different things.
"easy," he murmurs, and his voice is lower than usual, rougher. his hands are on your hips, thumbs pressing into the jut of bone there, but he's not guiding you. he's holding you steady. letting you set the pace. "easy, sweetheart. breathe for me."
you do. shaky inhale through your nose, slow exhale through parted lips. your thighs are trembling where they're bracketing his hips, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of him. he's propped up against the headboard, shirt long since discarded, hair a mess of white silk falling into his eyes.
he looks wrecked already, and you've barely started.
"that's it," he says, and there's a strain in his voice that wasn't there before, a tightness around the edges. "you're doing so good. just—take your time."
you sink lower. another inch. the sensation is overwhelming—full, hot, stretching you in a way that borders on too much. your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails leaving crescents in his skin. he hisses, but it's not from pain.
"fuck," he breathes, head falling back against the headboard. "fuck, you're tight."
you pause, breath catching. "is that bad?"
"no." he laughs, but it comes out strangled. "no, it's not bad. it's—" he grits his teeth, jaw working. "it's a lot. in a good way. keep going."
you push down further, and finally, finally, you're seated fully in his lap. his cock is buried to the hilt inside you, and you feel impossibly full, stretched around him, your body struggling to accommodate his size. you stay still for a moment, just breathing, just feeling.
his hands slide up from your hips to your waist, palms warm and slightly sweaty. he's looking at you with an expression you can't quite read—hunger and wonder and something softer mixed in.
"okay?" he asks.
you nod, swallowing. "okay."
"good." he shifts beneath you, and you feel him twitch inside you, making you gasp. his lips curl into a smirk, but it's strained, his composure crumbling at the edges. "now move when you're ready. however you want. i've got you."
you start slow. experimental rolls of your hips, testing the angle, the friction. each movement sends sparks through your nerves, makes your breath stutter. his hands guide but don't push, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your skin.
"like that," he says, voice rough. "just like that."
you find a rhythm. rocking forward, grinding down, the wet sound of your bodies meeting filling the quiet room. his head falls back again, eyes fluttering shut, and you watch his throat work as he swallows.
"you feel incredible," he rasps. "god, you have no idea how good you feel."
you pick up the pace, bracing your hands on his chest. the new angle makes him hit deeper, and you moan, head dropping forward. he takes the opportunity to lean up, catching your mouth in a kiss that's all tongue and teeth and desperation.
when he pulls back, he's breathing hard. his bangs are plastered to his forehead. there's a flush spreading across his chest.
"you're doing so well," he says, and his voice cracks on the last word. "fucking—perfect. you're perfect."
you roll your hips harder, chasing the friction, the pressure building low in your belly. his hands grip your waist tighter, and you can feel him fighting the urge to take over, to flip you and fuck you into the mattress.
"close?" he asks.
you nod, too breathless for words.
"me too." he laughs, shaky. "fuck, me too. you're gonna make me—"
he cuts himself off with a groan, his hips bucking up into you despite himself. you gasp at the sudden depth, your walls clenching around him.
"sorry," he grits out. "sorry, i just—you feel too good. i can't—"
his composure is crumbling. the infuriatingly cocky sorcerer is falling apart beneath you, his breathing ragged, his hands shaking where they hold you. he's babbling now, half-words and broken praises, telling you how good you are, how tight, how perfect.
"come for me," he gasps. "please. i need to feel you—"
you do. the command, the desperation in his voice, the way he's barely holding himself together—it pushes you over the edge. you clench around him, a broken moan falling from your lips as pleasure rips through you.
he follows a second later, with a groan that sounds almost pained, his hips thrusting up as he spills inside you. you feel every pulse, every hot rush of him filling you, and it draws your own orgasm out until you're trembling and spent.
you collapse against his chest, both of you slick with sweat, breathing hard. his arms wrap around you, pulling you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
"holy shit," he mutters.
you laugh weakly. "good?"
he tilts your chin up, kissing you slow and deep.
"perfect."
a/n: requested by a lovely anon it was so much fun 2 write hihi
tags 18+ minors dni !! very self indulgent hehe … i’m so soft for him y’all don’t understand 🥹
his lips are cold at first. always cold, like he’s been pressing his mouth to the rim of a glass full of ice just to feel something. you’ve learned to expect it but it still makes you gasp every time, that first shock of chill against your warm mouth, and he loves it. you can feel him smile into the kiss, that infuriating curve of his lips that says got you.
he doesn’t rush. satoru gojo could move faster than light if he wanted to but he kisses you like the world outside doesn’t exist. his hands find your face first, always. long fingers spanning your jaw, thumbs stroking over your cheekbones in slow hypnotic circles. he tilts your head to the side and deepens the kiss, easing you into it, letting you feel every second of it. his bottom lip slots between yours and he just rests there for a moment, breathing you in.
then his tongue traces the seam of your lips, asking, always asking even though he knows the answer will be yes. you open for him and he hums into your mouth, pleased and low, the vibration traveling straight down your spine. he tastes like sugar and something sharper underneath, like the candy he definitely stole from your stash and the mint gum he chewed to cover it up. his tongue curls against yours lazy and thorough, exploring, and his teeth graze your bottom lip just hard enough to make your breath catch. he soothes it immediately with a soft sucking kiss that leaves your lip slick and tingling.
his mouth wanders. it’s a problem, actually, because he can’t stay in one place for long. he pulls back from your lips and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then the bow of your upper lip, then the tiny crease where your smile would be if you weren’t so breathless. he kisses the tip of your nose, your cupid’s bow, your cheek. by the time he’s finished mapping your face your eyes are closed and your lips are parted.
he kisses your closed eyelids, left then right, feather-light. his lips brush your lashes and you feel them flutter against his mouth. he exhales a laugh and the air ghosts warm over your skin.
then he’s at your jaw, trailing open-mouthed kisses down to your chin, then up the other side. he finds the spot just beneath your ear and latches on, sucking gently, not enough to leave a mark but enough to make your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt. he kisses the shell of your ear, the delicate skin behind it, the curve where your neck meets your shoulder. he breathes there, nose pressed to your skin. “you’re so warm,” he says, “smell so good.”
he kisses your throat. your collarbones. the hollow at the base of your neck where he can feel your heartbeat rabbiting against his mouth. he stays there for a long moment, just feeling it, and when he pulls back his eyes are dark and half-lidded and his lips are pink and kiss bitten and wet.
he kisses you on the mouth again, harder this time, less controlled. his composure slips and his hands drop from your face to your waist, your hips, pulling you flush against him. he kisses you like he’s starving, like the taste of you is the only thing that keeps him human. his tongue slides against yours and his teeth click against yours because he’s smiling again, he’s always smiling, even now. especially now.
his hands roam. up your sides, down your back, fingers splaying wide like he’s trying to touch all of you at once. they settle on your lower back and he presses you closer, impossibly closer, and he’s so warm now, all that cold burned away by the heat between you. he kisses the corner of your mouth again, your chin, the tip of your nose. a quick peck to your forehead. your left cheek. your right cheek. back to your lips.
he pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, and you can feel his lashes brush your brow.
“hey.” he says, voice wrecked.
“hey.” you breathe back.
he kisses the bridge of your nose. “you’re my favorite.”
you roll your eyes but you’re smiling, he can feel it.
Synopsis. A bIoody trail of vampire attácks, a political marriage, and four suitors you’re forced to choose from - all haunting you. But none as much as the mysterious stranger that makes everything in you scream that you might just be fated for the very thing your kingdom is trying to escape from.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! princess! reader, king! Gojo, vampire AU, he’s actually ÍNSANE, royalty AU, arranged marriages, creampíes, breéding, fated mátes, FÉRAL down bad Gojo, mentions of bIood and kílling, bíting, óral (fem receiving), spítting, marks (a LOT), fíngering, pórn with plot tbh, overstím, ínnapropriate use of powers, jealous! Gojo, slight inspiration from Persephone and Hades, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 15.8k (HUH???)
A/N. Was listening to Haunted by Beyoncé, and my mind went “ooo vampires.” Hope y’all have a lovely week <3
In all your years being carefully primed to take over the throne, there have only been two rules you were raised under:
You live by the crown, and you will die by the crown. No matter what.
To stop the vampires - if your father, the king, fails to contain the bloody trail of killings before his own inevitable death, you have to. Or, more according to those tedious meetings with the table of elders, your husband will have to.
And it seems as if they were well and fully intent on enforcing that last rule as of late - with sharply increasing numbers of attacks on your local towns, the public was growing restless - and so was the royal court.
You weren’t doing any better either - but for a wholly different reason.
Maybe it was paranoia, but these days, you found yourself constantly catching a flash of crystal blue in the corner of your eye. Or hearing a sweet, sweet whisper in your ear deep at night. Maybe even a soft run of fingers down your spine as you were readied for yet another ball - hands much too large to be any of your ladies-in-waiting.
Like something was watching.
Waiting.
“And then I- your highness, are you listening?”
That familiar, grating voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you’re gasping in embarrassment as you turn back to the prattling man in front of you.
“My apologies, Lord Naoya.” you smile tightly, desperate to finish up yet another conversation about his latest cavalry expeditions. Nodding dismissively, “Just tired, please continue with your ah- wonderful tales.”
But of course, when he starts right back from the very beginning to “cover the key points you missed”, your stomach turns when you realize that you won’t be escaping any time soon. Great. Wonderful. Perfect.
God, future suitors your ass. You’d been taught that there’s no such company as “bad company” when you’re an heir to a kingdom, but this has been the fourth royal ball this month - and the biggest one yet. The fourth night you had to listen to another uptight lord show off his sparse battle medals, or another elder snide about how you’d be useless against the dangers of vampires.
You knew it was likely some coping mechanism with the grim deaths this week, but surely the nobles were tired of all this silly dancing? You sure were.
Gauzy dress just a bit too tight, sighs just a bit too loud than was permitted for the princess, you let your gaze wander across the brilliant ballroom. Those intricate gowns, the huge reflective wall, those little pastries you really wish you could walk away from this conversation and-
Blue.
Crystal blue.
“Wait! Did you see-” you startle, and it disappears as fast as it appeared. Your heavy skirts sway as you whirl around to uselessly track that odd burst of color, “Did you see that?”
“I know!” Naoya gasps, making you turn your head in excitement. “The light reflects off my medal so gorgeously! Oh, and this one-”
Dammit.
All through your life, it was this same color that’d been flitting occasionally through your vision, now haunting you almost every day.
You didn’t know where to look to find that familiar blue again - and you didn’t want to stand here waiting to find out. At the very least, your ears have definitely been assaulted with enough talk about horses and how “absolutely enormous” Lord Naoya’s weaponry at the Zenin Estate was.
Compensating, you muse.
The thought helps you plaster on a grin to your face, humming in a saccharine-sweet tone, “It pains me to cut through, my lord.” It really didn’t. “And I’d love to chat more later, but I think I hear my lady-in-waiting calling for me.”
He sputters, breathing out a few profanities under his breath that you catch. An arm raising as if to keep you in place, “Now, wait a minute-”
You’re angling your body expertly to make your dash. Batting your lashes deceivingly innocently, “Oh? What was that?” you cup your ear. “I hear her again- I really do apologize, but feel free to recount your valiant um- fairy tales in a letter.”
“But your father-”
Not waiting to hear the rest of his response, you barely even bother with a polite curtsy before determinedly weaving your way through the stuffy ballroom. Nodding by the nobles greeting you, waving past the throng of young lords that wanted to reel you into more conversation. Your satiny feet taking you anywhere but here - anywhere but where you could feel the still, heavy gaze of something burning into your back as you escaped.
You just prayed that it was only a miffed Naoya and nothing else.
It was around this time that the orchestra struck up another upbeat waltz, and with most people pairing off on the dance floor, barely anyone noticed you tip-toeing out of the ballroom.
“God-” you’re letting out a sigh of relief when you reach the long hallway, rubbing at your throbbing temples. “The next ball they host, m’gonna conveniently disappear, I swear.”
You didn’t care enough for what matchmaking would happen in the future anyway, no matter what the elders may tell you.
Your ballgown swishes with every urgent step through the quiet, dimly-lit corridors. Maybe a bit too quiet.
Strange. You knew that not many nobles would be wandering around the palace during a ball but, surely you can’t be the only one here? Where were the guards?
Just then, a soft winter breeze puffs against your left ear - and you inhale sharply. “Wha- hello?” you shudder, gaze darting around. “Anyone there?” But when only silence greets you, you’re struck with the sudden thought that the windows along the hallway were closed.
Where did the wind come from?
The realization has you taut with goosebumps pricking at your skin, your pace increasing ever-so-slightly. Gulping, you round the corner quickly, making a beeline for the closest haven you could find - the library.
Ducking past the towering stone archway, you hastily slam the door closed. It takes you a few seconds to get used to the darkness inside. With silvery moonlight ribbons filtering in through the curtained windows, you could just barely make out the rows upon rows of books you’d pestered your father into lining. Surrounded by heavyset tables, and your favorite, cushioned armchair. Luxurious, yet completely dwarfed when seating the lone silhouette-
“If this is an attack, then I surely don’t mind.”
“Fuck-” you scream, reflexively grabbing the nearest book spine you could reach to throw in the direction of the shadow. “Show yourself.”
Somehow, it’s as if the book bounces off an invisible forcefield, plopping down unceremoniously onto the velvety carpet right in front of the tall figure.
“And here I thought princesses usually curtseyed.” that deep, honeyed voice cuts right through your heavy breathing. He makes a move to get up - languid, and torturous, as if he enjoyed your agonizing suspense. “Well, maybe I do prefer being pelted by a- hey, that doesn’t mean pick up another book!”
In a split-second, you were brandishing a weighty encyclopedia this time - holding it firmly behind your head in a ready stance to throw once again.
“Show yourself.”
The man sighs, stepping into a channel of low light. It illuminated his stature - taller than you’d thought, towering well above most of the generals in the royal court. Muscled, yet lean - powerful, the thought strikes you. Magnetizing.
Someone from outside the kingdom, you observe, otherwise you’d have remembered that cloudy white hair, strands falling over a strange, black blindfold stretched across the upper half of his face. Leaving you only a set of high cheekbones, and a pert, pretty mouth to admire.
One that curls into such a mischievous smirk of neat pearly whites, and a tiny dimple digging into his cheek. “Now, I’ve never had anyone this eager to see me.” He drops into a courteous bow at the waist, expensive blue fabrics rippling. “From the North kingdom, Satoru, at your service, princess.”
Your hand falters - partially because of the heavy weight, partially because you recognised that gold “G” insignia in the middle of this stranger- Satoru’s uniform. The Gojo family.
That mysterious, estranged kingdom from the Northern part of the country that hadn’t been seen since you were young. You’d heard stories of them - everyone in this vast country had, it was impossible not to. Of their cruel winters and even crueler king, how blood stained every room in his palace. It was rumored he was a monster, and yet, no one ever saw his face - if they did, they never lived to tell the tale.
You knew your father had invited the king to every single ball out of diplomatic obligation, but he’d never attended. Never even bothered to respond.
So who was this?
“No one. Just a lowly attendant accompanying my king, your highness.” you’re jolting when he purrs, a brow quirking at just how he knew what you were thinking. “The question ah- showed on your face, my apologies.”
Finding your voice, “Um, I apologize, too, Satoru-” You note the lack of a last name, “-for the book. I can’t imagine being hit with Yaga’s 1001 Methods to Crochet was a very warm welcome.” And like a little truce, you’re placing down the encyclopedia in your hand. Flashing him your most practiced smile, “I bet you’re hiding out here for the same reasons as me, then.”
That draws out a pretty laugh from him, bubbly and boyish. “Mhm, the ladies just refuse to leave you alone, too?”
“Well, more like the lords there.”
He hums, something that sends a chill down your spine. Words just a little strained, “Not much for bragging about horses?”
And suddenly, you get the urge to snark back, huffing in a way you know your preparational teacher would faint at. “Absolutely not. I’d rather face a vampire than listen to Naoya and the “absolutely enormous” weaponry he uses to-”
“-compensate!”
“-compensate.” the two of you finish at the same time. “I like this place a lot better, it’s quiet- though…” your voice trails off in wonder. “It’s strange, guests aren’t supposed to be allowed in the library unsupervised.” His jaw clenches when your eyes sweep him, “We are supposed to have a few guards here but I don’t know where-”
All of a sudden, it’s like you’re being splashed with cold water. And your words are dying on your tongue when the room drops a few degrees in temperature.
Satoru is unnervingly still, yet he catches onto your slight shiver. “This damned wind, am I right?” And he’s gesturing at the windows with his head. The closed windows. Words tumbling quickly from those pink lips now, “Anyways- why don’t you sit down-” He prowls towards you, slow, confident. Large hands rest at your arms, they’re pale, surprisingly cold - guiding you easily to sit on the unoccupied armchair. “-since m’being nice enough to let you hide out here.”
His words drip with tease, and you still couldn’t see his eyes, but you imagined they’d be twinkling. No one ever dared to speak to you this way - it was always either thinly-veiled condescension or fear towards royalty.
Surprisingly, you didn’t mind.
You roll your eyes, trying to hold back your smile. “Yeah? Well what do I owe you in return for that, Satoru?”
His lips part, as if not expecting this response. Before letting out another sharp cackle at your expense, “Well, why don’t you-” You can’t tear your eyes away from his magnetic figure when Satoru begins unbuttoning his flowing coat to reveal a snow-white shirt underneath. Wrapping it snug around your shoulders in one, fluid motion, a hand of his tilts your head towards him. “-give me your soul?”
The Gojo emblem burns into your back, and Satoru’s deep, almost raspy tone rings in your ears. It sounded like a joke - but looking into his ethereal features, there was no trace of a grin on what you could see of it. And once again, you’re struck by the pure power radiating off of him.
You hoped it was a joke.
“S-soul’s not for sale.” you manage to choke out, trying to make it look like you weren’t breathing in his metallic, peppermint scent. Heady. Pulling the soft fabric tighter around your cold body, “Steep price for a hideout, don’t you think?”
“S’a discount for you, flower.” his chilling breath fans your face. Letting out hushed, “Heh, you should see the prices I charge others.”
You’re reeling, face burning, “Flower?”
“Because you’re shaking like one, see?” The pads of his fingers move from under your chin to trace up, up, up the goosebumps on your exposed arms. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to pull away.
Hypnotic.
And his steps are soundless as he walks over behind you, the moonlight giving him an angelic halo. Haunting, almost. “And you’re just as gorgeous, like a wild rose. Way too gorgeous for the fuckin’ bastards out there, might I add, princess.”
The nerve!
Heart pounding, you turn around to- call him out for his disrespect? Snap back? Accept the compliment?
You don’t know - and you don’t get to find out, either. Because before your eyes can search for Satoru’s mysterious figure, the door to the library is slamming open with a deafening bang!
“Ah! There you are!” your lady-in-waiting’s relieved voice floods your ears. And she’s barging in with no comment about your sudden stiffness, or that foreign coat around your shoulders. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you, your highness. His majesty is just about to make his speech of the night and needs you there.”
Shit, out of all the scandals.
“I- I can explain.” You’re desperately trying to catch Satoru’s eye to make up an excuse for why you’re alone with a strange man away from the ball, shooting from your seat to look around the library. “We’re just-”
The suddenly empty library.
“Yes yes, I understand that the balls aren’t exactly your favorite pastime.” The oblivious girl is pushing you towards the door, brown eyes narrowed. “But we’ve got to get going now.”
Despite her wrangling you outside, you manage to sneak a few glances backwards, straining to see if he was hiding in the shadows. Only to be met with a now-rumpled armchair and the still, dark bookshelves. As bare as if Satoru never existed - the only proof of his existence being a sad copy of Yaga’s 1001 Methods to Crochet lying on the ground.
And yet, you can’t help but feel a pair of eyes on you.
You feel it all through the short walk back to the ballroom, Nobara’s excited chatter about how finely your all-new coat was made filtering through one ear and out the next. Even when you reach the edge of the dance floor, even when you feel every single other eye in the room on you - you feel it.
“Um, Nobara.” you whisper, discreetly shuffling the coat off your shoulders. “Please take this to my chambers for me.”
The younger girl is positively bursting at the seams, murmuring conspiratorially to you, “So is this where you were? With who- The “G” what does that-”
“Ah! My daughter!” Saved by your father’s booming voice - though, you wouldn’t consider it too much of a salvation when you’re immediately being whisked away to the high platform your father’s throne was seated on. His arms spread wide to greet you in a hug despite stiff etiquette.
“You’re late.” he whispers in your ear.
It’s all you can do to manage out a quiet, “S-Sorry.”
Without another word, he’s addressing the congregation in the middle of the dance ballroom again. More ruler than father at this very moment. “My people, we are gathered here today to dance, to sing, to forget about the horrors happening in our beloved nation.” To large murmurs of agreement he continues, “And despite it all, it’s a reality we must all live with. Me, especially, as your king, have a duty to fulfill.”
There’s a beat of silence, and you wonder where this is all going - your father never brought up vampires during a time like this. Never.
Clearing his throat, “And as we all know, I’m not getting any younger here, unfortunately. Which is why-” He claps his hands once, and three figures - one of which being Naoya, amongst two other nobles you briefly recognized - step forward from the crowd. “Ah- there should be one more- Anyway, after thorough consideration with the table of elders, we have decided to go forward with the betrothal process for my dear daughter here. With the joining of hands will not only be the joining of kingdoms - but the joining of arms, and our people shall prevail as one over the vampires.”
You think you might stop breathing, eyes burning and trained firmly on the ground. This had been a topic of conversation - well, more the elders conversing while you skipped out on every meeting once this discussion was brought up.
You knew this would happen. You knew. But now? At this very moment? All you can do is stand there and listen while he rattles off.
“I know four of the- erm, three of the most eligible young suitors of the land will do their utmost to vie for her heart - and her hand. No easy task I tell you.” Your fists clench, head swimming. “And in a week’s time, we will hold the grand ball to announce my successor.”
Shit - a week. A week.
Somewhere in your line of vision you see - you feel that spark of blue. And you’re raising your head to cheers echoing from all around the room, and still no sign of where those eyes are.
“The next time we meet, will be with the future king and queen!”
Fuck.
---
That night was spent with a few too many tears, and a consoling Nobara at your side all until daybreak. And if you held onto that comforting, peppermint-scented coat through it all, well, you were only glad that you seemed too pitiful for her to question it.
Feeling much more composed and only slightly less bitter about the prospect of being married off to a stuck-up noble you didn’t know, you made your way to breakfast the next morning. An affair usually spent with your father, or in the palace gardens - but this time, surrounded by four suitors under the guise of getting to know you. Sizing each other up, maybe.
“Ah, your highness, good morning!” you sweetly reciprocate the greetings once you’re escorted into the dining room, taking your seat at the very end of the long, mahogany table.
Sighing you take in the scene - on your left was Lord Naoya from last night, the same sharp grins and shifty eyes as you remembered. Seated beside him was the young duke of the Kashimo clan - hair striking, his battle staff laid out next to him on the table. Intimidating.
But nothing in comparison to the hulking man on your right, it seemed as if his uniform was on the verge of bursting. Face sullen, letting his pink locks fall into place - Sukuna, you think you remember.
“Your highness.” Ichiji bows, taking his place supervising the breakfast. “I am afraid our guests from the Northern kingdom will not be able to attend this breakfast today. He sends his deepest apologies. B-but-” His face-paled, looking scarred for life. “-he did have his um- attendant send this note-”
You’re gratefully taking the creamy scrap of paper before the words have even left Ichiji’s mouth, flipping it over to reveal slanted, beautiful calligraphy - Apologies for the sudden departure last night, flower. And I hope you forgive my king for not being here to deter the talk of horses - duty holds both man and beast from freedom. Worry not, we will be seeing your sweet smile again soon. But, for now, give those three bastards a rude gesture from me.
You giggle, tucking away the note. A tiny pang of disappointment hitting you out of nowhere at the lack of that gold “G” emblem anywhere along the table - and more importantly, the white-haired enigma that would follow.
All three men were glowering, yet begrudgingly plowing on with their conversation from before as you settled. Not having the energy to contribute, you listened in.
“-this would never have happened in my estate.”
“Oh buzz off-” Kashimo interrupts Naoya, before throwing a guilty look your way at his crass words. As if you didn’t say worse. “Apologies, your highness. As I was saying-” he turns back to the man. “Don’t think we haven’t heard of those vampire killings in your court that you tried to cover up, your defense isn’t as impenetrable as you want it to seem, Naoya.”
That causes you to raise your brow - and evidently, Sukuna’s as well. “That so? Little fraud, aren’t ya, Zenin?”
The shorter man sputters indignantly, “You- you little- you call me a fraud and yet you’re the only one who didn’t bother to help investigate last night? Got something to hide, oh king-of-curses?”
“Tch, shut up.” That little nickname ticked something off in Sukuna, and his grip on his delicate fork tightens. Smirk intentionally bared to piss off, “It’s just because when the princess marries me, she won’t have to worry about vampires attacking guards in the middle of a ball.”
Wait, what?
“Yeah right, you and what army because I have an absolutely enormous-”
“What do you mean?” Your smooth voice cuts through their bickering, and all three men freeze, gazes snapping to you as if they’d already forgotten you were there. “I didn’t hear about any killings last night.”
If you thought they were tense before then you weren’t prepared for right now - shoulders raising in surrender, for all their blabbering, not a word was uttered after your accusatory question. After a few beats of silence, you scoff in frustration, turning towards your escort, squirming and avoiding your pointed stare at the very corner of the room.
“Ichiji.” The man looked like he could positively give anything to blend into the meticulously hand-painted flowers on the wall. “Ichiji, tell me what happened.”
“P-princess!” he yelps, adjusting his glasses. “I- I’m afraid the king said- please I can’t-”
“Ichiji…”
“P-please don’t banish me-”
You’re on your feet now, cornering the poor man. Mentally, you make a note to give him a raise. Eyes narrowing, “I won’t banish you, but as the future queen I have a right to know, don’t I?”
“...”
“...please?”
And the remaining men had been watching with morbid fascination as you worked your magic. They were already aware that the frail attendant was the weakest link out of them all, but what they certainly did not expect was exactly how weak.
It only took a single bat of your lashes before his pale cheeks colored an almost-concerning pink. Eyes scrunching shut in embarrassment, as the words spilled from his lips. Neverending and slurring with haste as he speaks in one breath, “Th-three of the guards stationed near the outer corridor and library wing were found killed by a vampire last night before you retired for the night, your highness. Their b-bodies were disposed of, and this in combination with all the recent killings was why the king hurried the announcement for your engagement. B-but, his majesty decreed that this never be relayed to you in order to keep you in high spirits after the betrothal eep-!”
“Is- is that so?” you breathe, eyes wide. Taking one last look at the four speechless men, before walking out of the tall doorway. “I seem to have lost my appetite, I will be heading for my chambers now. I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay, my lords.”
Shit shit shit - how did you not notice?
Maybe you walked right past the killer last night and didn’t even realize - who knows what could’ve been hiding in the shadows. How did you not realize? How did you not see?
Just then, a thought strikes you - did Satoru see?
---
It’s one of the whirlwind of questions ringing around in your mind even by the time you hear a steady knock on your door. Jolting you upright from where you splayed out on your plush, silken bed, rows upon rows of books on vampires haphazardly surrounding you.
Peering out of your large window, you notice the hues of pink and red painting the sky, a big red sun just dipping below the horizon - shit, when did you even fall asleep?
“Come in.” you answer, voice scratchy. Rubbing away the sleep in your eyes, you could barely make out the hazy outline of Ichiji standing in your doorway.
“Ah- your highness, I apologize for waking you up.” he bows. “But master Kashimo will be headed out for a late-night hunt at this very moment, and requested your presence shall you wish it. He noticed that you seemed upset at breakfast, and wanted to make it up to you.”
You take a moment to mull over the question - it certainly was rude for you to just ignore your guests all day. And considering you might just be marrying one of them, it wouldn’t kill anyone to actually get to know them.
“Alright.” you reply, voice even. And your answer seems to surprise the other man, “Tell Tsukumo to get my gear ready, I will be down as soon as I change.”
“Y-yes, princess! I will call for Nobara to help you get dressed.”
As the door shut once more behind him, you threw off your heavy blanket- and your coat? Satoru’s coat, which had evidently been draped around your upper half. Heart stuttering, you didn’t remember putting that on before…
Hm, you had to thank Nobara for that later.
---
Hunting with Kashimo was, unexpectedly, dull.
“So…” you drag your words, trying to fill the tense silence. “What is it that we’re actually hunting for-”
“Shhh-” you hear for about the third time this past hour. A brow of yours quirking at the way it seemed like the two of you had been wandering the woods belonging to your kingdom’s estate for hours, and you still didn’t know what it was you were supposed to be looking for.
Alright, perhaps hunting wasn’t the best opportunity to get to know your potential future husband.
“My lord…” you call out warily, already aware of the duke’s affinity for hunting. “Maybe we should rest for a bit, after all, the stars are out already and the moon is so bright.”
He barely even turns to look back at you, “No time. The woods belonging to your kingdom have some of the rarest species of cursed animals in this country. I must make the most of this week in that case, your highness.”
You brighten at the closest shred of conversation in so long. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard! I also hear they-”
“Shh!”
So close.
Letting out a resigned sigh, your eyes glaze over as you watch Kashimo trace his thick fingers over animal tracks on the dirt. Suddenly, gesturing for you to follow him as he sped off in another direction.
It doesn’t take too long for him to stray out of sight. Meanwhile, your legs lag behind in protest - and pettiness, you realize. Grumbling to yourself about how you’d rather have watched paint dry as you’re sure the elders often did. Well, you look at the now-barren pathway, at least now you didn’t have to worry about someone shushing you all the ti-
“AHH!”
And then, all of a sudden - it felt like you were the hunted.
It’s like every bit of blood drains from your body at the blood-curdling scream. Grip tightening on your bow, you’re jolting at the direction it came from - where did Kashimo disappear off to again?
Yet, for how much you knew your kingdom like the back of your hand, it’s so dark. The moon barely peeking through gloomy gray wisps of clouds that you don’t know where exactly you’re running to - just that something was tugging. Reeling you in. No destination in sight until you’re crashing face-first into- a wall?
“Hey, flower, where are ya running off to this late?”
Your hairs raise, something visceral in your body jolting.
Satoru - blindfold and all.
“Wh- Satoru thank God you’re here.” you gasp, looking nervously over his broad shoulders. “I heard a scream, and I’m worried about Kashimo because he went somewhere over there and-” You’re pointing aimlessly in his direction, before clasping a hand around Satoru’s defined bicep. Tugging, “You have to help me, that idiot even insisted on no guards because of disturbing the wildlife and I’m so worried and-”
Before you can react, big strong arms are enveloping you. And you’re suddenly hit with the smell of peppermint and Satoru - something so sickly sweet tinging the air, it makes you droop limply into his firm hold. Your skin burns when he breathes in, deep.
“Shhh shhh, I know I know, princess.” he hums, pulling you deeper against his chest. Until you could feel every dip and curve of his pectorals. “You must’ve been scared, right?” At your hesitant nod, “You did good. You did perfect- in fact. Especially putting up with that pretentious bastard.”
The shocked laugh that drags from your throat has Satoru sighing contentedly, an almost-pained grunt leaving him as he pulls away ever-so-slightly. You felt much the same.
“S’alright, I’m pretty sure it was some animal.” he soothes. He clasps your hands with his, running a damp thumb over your knuckles. “I saw him trudging about disturbing more wildlife over there.”
You breath catches in your chest at just how close Satoru was now, his breath mingling with yours. Pretty plump lips so close - too close. Yet you’re leaning in closer, like you’re drawn by a thread. “Are you sure? Maybe we should-” You gasp, eyes widening when you look down at where your hands were intertwined - red. Or, what you assumed to be red, a saturated, patchy stain on your hands where Satoru’s met yours. He stiffens when he follows your gaze, trying to pull away, but you only hold your grip harder. “Satoru, are you bleeding? Or is this-”
“Not mine.” his voice is hard - and for a second you have to wonder whether this is really the same Satoru. And you swear there’s a little tremor in his words as he explains, “You see, I went out on a little hunt myself, flower.”
Even if Satoru didn’t have his blindfold on, you’re sure his face would’ve been unreadable. That almost-familiar grin of his is strained. Too strained. Yet, his movements are unwavering as he tries to wipe away the blood. “Must’ve forgotten to wipe down, I apologize for sullying your hands, princess.”
“Let me-” you mutter, taking a hold of the coat around your shoulders to wipe away the blood. Uncaring for what you were dirtying at the moment. “I swear you need to take better care of yourself, Satoru. Seriously.”
And you didn’t see them - but somehow you could just feel the amusement dancing in Satoru’s eyes. Raising your confused gaze up to meet his, “What?”
He only flashes you a knowing grin, “S’jus’, you’re wearing my coat, your highness.”
Your movements pause, mouth gaping open while you try to pathetically spout out an excuse. “I- I didn’t mean to get this coat dirty, oh my god. I didn’t think-”
“S’alright.” he inches in even closer. A smirk grazing those sinful lips of his, “I actually prefer it like that, you look like mine.” Taking a deep breath, “You smell like mine.”
And before you can ask about his cryptic message, he’s placing a hand at the back of your waist. A very improper hand that would definitely make the elders gasp in scandal. “We should head back to the palace, it’s getting late. I will escort you, m’sure that born hunter of yours is already halfway back too.”
“Carry me.” you blurt out, your body aching to feel more of him. And before you can retract your words - probably sputter a few apologies, you’re being cradled by a smug Satoru. One hand under your knees, the other supporting you like you’re weightless.
“Heh, a princess carry for a princess.”
“Oh, shut up.” you grumble with embarrassment when he walks forward slowly, your legs swaying in midair. “Want my soul for this as well?”
And you can feel Satoru’s muscles ripple, you can feel the way his breath hitches in his chest ever-so-slightly. Rumbling as he drawls, “More than you’d know.”
“S’that a discount, too? You still didn’t tell me what you charge others.” you quip, remembering the conversation from the night before.
“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough, your highness.”
You’re quirking a brow, something hot churning at the pit of your stomach at that ragged tone to his words. “I’m onto you, y’know.” You stare up at his clenched jaw, highlighted in the dim moonlight. His long, pale neck, the crevices of his blindfold. For a moment, you wonder what it would be like if you could peek under. “Onto you and your absurdly high prices, Satoru.”
He breathes out a shuddering, overly-dramatic shudder. “Mhm, flower, I should be worried.” Before looking up at the sky - and you wondered just how well he could see through his blindfold. “The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”
That night, you dreamt of long-winded star-gazing and blue, blue eyes.
---
“What do you mean Lord Kashimo has left for his kingdom?” you hiss, feeling a faint stab of offense. Seriously, were you that awful at hunting? “He didn’t make any indication of it last night.”
And if your careless words made Nobara beam with slight embarrassment, you didn’t take note of it - too caught up in what you’d just heard. Enough so that it takes her next words to bring you out of your stupor, “Exactly what I said, your highness. The lordship and his court have all vacated their wing, leaving behind only a letter of forgiveness for ending the festivities early.”
“Still.” you murmur petulantly. Setting aside another one of your books on Vampire: Mates, Murder, and More. “It’s strange, I thought he was here for the hunting sprees, if not for me.” Your tiara weighs heavy on your head as you turn to your young lady-in-waiting. “I would like for Ichiji to catch up to Kashimo’s traveling party, make sure they’re safe, and send them my well wishes.”
Ha! Take that elders - you’d show them you’re fully capable of holding diplomatic relations as a ruler.
“As you wish, princess. Additionally, this-” She’s holding out a small pouch of blue fabric that you’d never seen before. “-was found by your bedside when cleaning and I wished to give it back safely.” Before her polite smile drops into a much more devious smirk, “A gift from one of the suitors, perhaps~?”
You gesture for her to hand it over, the silk casing soft under your touch. Detailed. One-of-a-kind, from what your tedious lessons in the history of fabrics had taught you. You didn’t recognize the patterns sewn onto it as something typical for your kingdom - or any other you’d learned about, really.
“M’not sure.” you whisper. Opening the little purse to reveal a flash of gold - a necklace. Thin and intricate, holding a sapphire pendant in the shape of an eye.
Blue.
A blue you knew too well - the same one that peeked out from every dark corner, that you saw before you slept at night. The one that’s been by your side for years.
Constant. Now coming to haunt you.
Chills run down your spine, and your fingers tremble at how life-like it looked. Burning into your very soul.
“Would you like for me to help you put it on?” Nobara asks, mistaking your shock for difficulty. And yet, you don’t correct her - body moving before your mind to simply nod.
There was only one clasp on the chain - leaving you to worry about the fit. But when it was hooked around your neck, you found that it fit you so perfectly. Like it was tailored to you - and only you. Why was it so perfect?
Why did it capture the exact color you’d been chasing after your whole life - since before you’d even formed memories? Since you were nothing but a surly, teary-eyed little girl that was crying about the dark, babbling about that “blue flash” that no one else ever seemed to see.
“If that will be all, your highness. I will take my leave.” With a nod and a low bow, you’re left all by yourself in your sprawling chambers. Wondering, somewhat in amusement, whether you’d be let off this marriage pact if all the other suitors suddenly left as well. Hell, maybe you could marry whoever got you this necklace since they apparently know you so well.
And you swear - maybe it was the fatigue from trekking last night, maybe it was the stress from the past month - but you swear the wind picks up in its chilly bite. Howling just low enough that it sounds like a deep, taunting cackle.
The necklace doesn’t leave its palace around your neck for the next few days. You still didn’t know who’d gifted it to you - right inside your chambers for god’s sake - and if either of the two suitors remaining knew, they didn’t make any indication of it either.
Three, technically, but it seemed that the more the days passed, the less you saw of the mysterious king of the Northern kingdom.
While Sukuna and Naoya had taken it upon themselves to woo you by joining you in your daily activities, he hadn’t even shown his face to you yet. You were sure your father would’ve had him humiliated and thrown out of the palace already if he wasn’t afraid for his life.
But you didn’t mind, because you saw enough of Satoru to make up for King Gojo and Kashimo. The man seemed well and fully intent to stick by your side, talking yourselves well into the night.
It was on a night like this - sprawled out along the plush armchairs in the very library you’d met, only a few days after Kashimo’s departure - you asked, “Satoru, what color are your eyes?”
That makes him pause in the middle of his extremely animated story about how he’d caught Earl Yaga in the middle of an artistic dance routine. The baritone of his voice cracking so uncharacteristically as he responds with, “Wh-why do you ask, princess?”
“Because.” you roll your eyes. “In four days m’gonna be marrying, and it might just be your king. Yet, I don’t even know his attendant’s eye color - what type of good queen would I be then?”
You knew it was a flimsy excuse, truthfully you just wanted to see Satoru. All of Satoru.
“Not many have wanted to look into my eyes”
You tilt your head, “How come?”
“Well, I can assure you that they aren’t half as alluring as yours.” Satoru pushes back your tiara ever-so-slightly to reveal your face to him better, fingers dancing down to fiddle with your pendant. “You’re a strange one, aren’t ya, flower?” he chuckles, face inching closer to yours - and for a moment, you think he might do something else. “Tell me, how are the wedding preparations going?”
Ah, right - the wedding preparations. Your wedding preparations, to someone else.
Did you want him to do something else?
“W-well-” you pull back from his hypnotic presence. Heart lurching, necklace burning cold into your skin. “Sukuna keeps trying to teach me his very particular diet, I swear I’ve spent much more time with Uraume learning it than with him- they’re a sweetheart though, I can’t complain.” Eyes trying to avoid the intensity of his gaze, “Oh- and Naoya still talks about his weaponry, however, I think his Zenin elders had a word with him because he asked to meet me in the gardens tomorrow evening to actually get to know me for once.”
You brave to take a look at Satoru at the end of his spiel - only to be met with a face you never thought you’d see. His mouth a tight gash, jaw ticking, and you could almost hear the grinding of his teeth.
Terrifying. Magnetic.
Powerful.
The library was always cold - but you fail to suppress a shiver at the sudden grip in the air. “S-Satoru?”
And suddenly, at the mere sound of your voice, everything clicks back to normalcy. You’re staring that familiar grin painted onto his face again, musing slyly, “How much d’you wanna bet he’ll ask about your weaponry instead?”
“Oh, shut up.”
It’s only much, much later at night when you’re forced to retire early - Satoru slipping past the library earlier than usual with groans of his “attendant duties” that you realize - he didn’t answer your question.
---
“P-princess, will you be alright going alone? I don’t think-”
“It’ll be alright, Ichiji, I’m just meeting Lord Naoya.” you wave off the stammering man. Tugging your velvety coat snugly around your body, “Honestly, you act like I haven’t been out in the gardens alone before.”
And it was true, since returning from his little meeting with the Kashimo court, your jumpy attendant seemed even more so - and you didn’t even know that was even impossible. Always peeking cautiously behind corners of the winding hallways, always hovering close by you even when his duty didn’t require it.
He’d told you - in that quiet, shaky voice of his - that Kashimo was well, and headed straight for his kingdom to fulfill emergency duties. To which you’d accepted - you understood the gravity of responsibility, after all.
“But- but, your highness!” he gasps, pulling you out of your little reverie. “I don’t think- with the way he-”
A spine-chilling breeze rustles the nearby tree, sending shivers down your spine. Howling in your ears. You squint your eyes against the cold, “Sorry, what was that, Ichiji?”
But the man in front doesn’t speak - fuck, you didn’t even know if he was breathing. Face a sickly pallor, mouth gaping open and shut like he wanted to say something - he needed to say something. Yet, he wasn’t even looking at you, wide eyes locked on something over your shoulder.
“Are you-” Your body holds you back, feeling two burning eyes on you - and you have to force yourself to look over your shoulder. Only to see- nothing? “-are you alright?”
Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, you’re turning back to face your attendant - only to see him sprinting back down the entrance as fast as his knobbly legs could carry him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then!” you call, hoping it echoed far enough to be heard.
Strange.
It’s all you can think about for the next half an hour you’re seated on that dainty, painted bench in the middle of the palace gardens, waiting for your potential future husband. And for the next hour. And the next.
It’s by the time the sun has fully set, when twinkling stars are dotting the night sky that you settle with the conclusion that yes, it seems that Naoya has already made his decision about the marriage. And no it doesn’t end with a wedding.
“Dammit.” you spit, running a hand through the hair you had Nobara fuss about with. “S’not like I wanted to marry you anyway, bastard.”
And you didn’t - you really didn’t. Whenever you dared to imagine walking down that decorated aisle, Naoya was the last person you saw.
But seated alone and abandoned, trying to cover yourself from the biting chill of the night, you never felt more like an unworthy heir. Fuck, if no one wanted to marry you how would you even dare to think of taking over the throne?
Maybe you should just-
“We have got to stop meeting like this, flower. S’like you’re haunting me.”
“Satoru!” you gasp, throwing yourself into his embrace. You’re reaching up to loop two arms around his neck, “Oh, you wouldn’t believe it. That asshole had the audacity to stand me up.” Pulling back so your face ghosts his, “I got all dolled up just for him to leave me like this. As if I wanted to be with him, I was just trying to be a good- a good h-host and-”
Suddenly, you’re struck with the realization of how close you two actually are. You could count every crease on his blindfold, pinpoint exactly where every dimple at the corner of his grin was.
Your hands slide their way down to his sculpted chest, pushing slightly. “-I apologize, this was forward of me.”
But his arms only tighten around your waist - when did they even get there? Large and steady, pulling you back to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, your racing pulse. “Stay.” he groans, and he sounds slightly out-of-breath, heavy exhales tickling your ear.
“We can’t be caught like this, Satoru.” you breathe, but that familiar little tug has you shuffling closer. Breathing in that familiar metallic sweet scent you’ve grown to love, “I- I’m getting-” Bile creeps up at the back of your throat, and you laugh bitterly. “I think I’m getting married in three days, y’know? To Lord Sukuna, I assume, since two of my suitors ah- ran away and the other refuses to even see my face.”
His thick fingers dig deeper into the extravagant corset at your waist, “I know. Fuck- don’t I know.”
It’s a steady beat of silence, so still. So tense you could hear every stuttering heartbeat of yours, and strangely enough, you had the nagging feeling that he could, too.
“You could just marry me.” Satoru’s abrupt confession breaks the silence, and you find yourself sinking deeper into his soft coat. Wrapping yourself up in his heady presence. “Be my queen. You wouldn’t have to worry about duties or elders or- or vampires.”
And the night was still. So still.
Despite the way your heart races, eyes blinking up in disbelief, you find it in yourself to deadpan, “F-funny. Do I have to give you my soul for that as well?” Oh, some stupid little part of you think you might just have.
And you’d expected Satoru to crack a laugh, to give you a teasing smile while he carried on that little inside joke between the two of you. You’d expected him to no sooner shove you off and talk about it being late. Hell, a part of you even expected this to be some elaborate set-up from the elders to get you caught in such a compromising position with the no-longer stranger from the Northern kingdom.
But, no. It’s anything but that - everything but that.
Because the taller man only rasps, nose-to-nose now, “No.” Sounding like his sanity was slipping away from him with every breath, fingers making their dance down to twirl your sapphire pendant between them. “I’d give you mine.”
You can feel his breath fanning your cheeks, head dipping slowly - so torturously slowly. As if he was giving you ample opportunity to run away if you wanted to. But you don’t think you could move for the life of you.
Instead, you’re dipping closer, gliding the tip of your thumb over his defined cheekbone. Mere millimeters away - just one push. Another hand of yours steadies at the back of his neck, feeling those snowing locks under your fingers.
One.
Your thumb dips just under the seam of his blindfold - unwillingly.
“Your highness.” Satoru’s voice is cold, his fingers lacing with your own even colder. Something eerie. And even with the delicate touch you could feel the power thrumming through Satoru’s body. “This is for you.”
You can only stand there in shocked silence as the moment shatters, and he produces a wild rose as if out of thin air. “Consider it from King Gojo.” Touch searing against yours when he hands it to you, you feel drunk off of him “Perhaps the night is late now.”
Right. The king.
When you’re walking back in the directions of the palace’s warm lights, you don’t think you’ve ever felt safer. Strangely enough.
“Satoru.”
“Yes?”
“I’m onto you.”
“You’re onto me.” he’s tucking the bloom over your ear. Before stepping back into the inky pool of shadows beside the entrance you came from. “Sweet dreams, flower.”
That night, when you tuck yourself into bed, you swear you hear a faint whisper of those same three words lulling you to sleep. Over and over.
Sweet.
Dreams.
Flower.
---
Floral preservation was one of the lessons you’d been forced to attend growing up in the palace, but even you didn’t know how that wild rose Satoru gifted you hadn’t wilted yet.
It remained as fresh and prim as the night it was picked, bluish pink petals never fading. You didn’t keep it safely in a bowl of water amongst the other plants and flowers in your bedroom. Somehow, never out of place, always tucked safely behind your ear in the days that followed. Perhaps it was improper to keep it on you even when you were being fitted into an engagement gown to be promised off to another man. But Satoru didn’t complain, and you didn’t either.
With Kashimo departing for his kingdom early, and Naoya apparently following in his footsteps due to “irrevocable differences”, it was now almost confirmed that the future king was to be Lord Sukuna. Not like King Gojo had made any effort to reach out - and Satoru hadn’t mentioned it either.
Satoru.
Things were…the same after that night, and you didn’t know what to make of it.
It must be done, you sigh, wincing at the pinch of the flowing white dress being suited onto you by the bustling tailor. At least it could be worse, even if you’d rather…
“Honestly, young people these days.” Yaga speaks up from where he was fussing with the silken hem of your gown for tomorrow. “I heard of that Naoya brat leaving out of nowhere, princess. My condolences.”
“Ah-” you startle, not expecting to be addressed. “It’s not your fault, we likely didn’t mesh all that well. I just wish he left a note- Honestly, I’m lucky to even have a suitor left after these six days.”
Another grimace leaves you when you feel another tweak of pins pricking at your skin. The other man hums lowly, “Don’t say that, anyone would be lucky to have you. Anyway-” He gets up from his position kneeling, towering over you to admire his own work. “How do you like it, your highness?”
You let out a gasp when you face the floor-length mirror, “Oh my god, it’s perfect.” The dress was regal, decadent. With flowing tresses resembling a petals, and gilded gold and blue weaved into the fabric.
Blue.
“I fashioned it after that necklace and flower of yours.” You unwittingly reach for that familiar pendant, “I ah- forgive the assumption, but I assumed you would be wearing them both at the betrothal ceremony tomorrow, princess?”
Taking another long look in the mirror, you nod, “Yeah. I will.”
---
“I knew it.” he laughs shrilly. “I fuckin’ knew there was something wrong with you. As soon as I saw you butterin’ the princess up in the library, I knew you were a fuckin’ freak.”
The other man only responds with ominous silence, letting labored breathing cut through the bone-chilling air. Clearly unsatisfied, “What? Not gonna talk now? Aren’t ya just in it for the crown like me? Have the bitch, just give me the crown.” Goading now, “I bet you’re not even an attendant are ya- I know what you are-”
His words are cut off with another choked-up gasp, followed shortly by a strained growl. “I know- what you are-”
Red stains the marble floor - a problem for later.
“I know, King Gojo.” And it’s the last thing he sees. “And you’ll reap what you sow, she’ll never love you.”
Blue.
“You’ve haunted me too long, flower.”
“Satoru–!” you scream, throwing your soft bed sheets off your body.
It was burning - you were burning, gasping for the cold lungfuls of air that filled your empty bedroom. Mind bleary, distantly, you register that it’s around daybreak - tiny fingers of golden sunlight just barely dipping through your window - your open window.
Hastily, you’re tumbling out of bed to slam it shut. Heart still pounding when you take in the mess of flower petals from those congratulatory bouquets you’d gotten. Ruined. Only the stems left in the vases after that sudden, chilling wind.
“What-” Your eyes dart around to look over your dresser, where you always kept Satoru’s wild rose. And a shiver creeps down your spine when you realize it lay snug tucked behind your ear, safe and sound. Exactly where you didn’t keep it. “-happened?”
You couldn’t settle back into bed after that - couldn’t even think about it. So you find yourself reaching for your wardrobe of dresses, running your fingers along the intricate gown made for your engagement ball tonight. Your engagement to Sukuna.
If this was the nightmare, and tonight was to be the dream - why did your stomach turn so?
---
It was difficult convincing Nobara to let you keep the wild rose on after getting ready.
“But that’s so last season.” she bemoans. “No offense, your highness, but even old lady Ogami wouldn’t be caught dead wearing flowers in her hair these days.”
You’re giving her your best puppy dog eyes, “Please, Nobara?”
“No.”
“I’ll let you raid my exclusive wardrobe the next time you want to play dress-up?”
“...”
Which was how you found yourself shoved into a dress that was way too gorgeously palatial, barely even having the time to admire the lush gold and blue decorations around the sparkling ballroom before you were being ushered next to your father on his throne.
You fiddle with your ringed fingers, feeling more and more like a lamb sent to slaughter - a very opulent slaughter - with each step.
“I am so proud of you for this week, and you look absolutely divine, my love.” your father whispers into your ear once you’re up on the crushed velvet platform. “I hear from Ichiji that you know, I apologize we couldn’t go through with this marriage under better circumstances.”
You shake your head, giving him a calm smile - you’d already forgiven him, sometimes there was duty far greater than any man.
“My people, as promised, we are gathered once more to celebrate the joining of two hands - and two kingdoms.” The king projects his voice out to the eager crowd, “Together, these two young loves will face their duty. They will face the dangers. They will face our future.”
The thought had you clenching your fist into the soft fabric of your gown, looking down at your feet in a bow.
“As I did with my father before me - God rest his soul - the future king and queen will oversee their responsibilities to protect our people from those treacherous vampires. The elders-” he stops short, eyes widening at the empty seats on the balcony - where the table of elders always sat. Abandoned. Chilling. “...have decreed, in accordance with our princess, to introduce my daughter to you all as our future queen-”
Your father gestures a hand your way, and you step forwards to cheers, still not daring to look up. And all you could see were two, gold-toed boots stepping into your field of vision.
“-and our future king!”
“Look up, flower, this is the best part.”
Gasping, you raise your head - Satoru.
“Y-you?”
He smiles that pearly smile at you, one that makes your knees weaken, “Me.” Before leaning down conspiratorially, “Better get moving now, the king just declared that the big bad Northern king and the precious princess will have their first dance as a couple.”
It felt like you were moving through a dream as you slip your hand into his, flinching at the feeling of his cold lips meeting the back of your hand.
The crowd of whispering nobles part to make a path for the two of you, and Satoru is so gentle when he leads you into the middle of the dance floor. Weightless on his feet, swiftly placing a burning hand on your waist - just below where the elders would consider proper.
The other intertwining with yours, you barely even register the slow, romantic tune playing from the orchestra.
“I bet you have questions.” he whispers, breath fanning your cheeks.
You take in his tall figure, the rows of medals, gleaming only half as bright as the smile that makes its way onto your face. Hissing, “That doesn’t cover the half of it, King Gojo.”
“I-I apologize. I can’t apologize enough but-”
“Though, I did have a nagging feeling about the fifth time you talked yourself up.” you smirk.
Satoru throws his head back in a loud cackle, echoing through the hushed crowds - no doubt gossiping about this being the Northern king, that fearful beast that ruled over the Gojo family. “I know.” His hand comes up momentarily to brush over your sapphire necklace, “And I’ll spend our entire lives making it up to you, flower.”
Goosebumps dance down your arm, your spine, right down to where Satoru held a firm grip on your hip. You two waltz around the edge of the dance floor, perfectly in time. Through the crowd of grumbling lords, the orchestra, past the table of foods.
“And exactly how long would the rest of our lives be, Satoru?”
Slowing right in front of that huge, reflective wall.
You couldn’t see his eyes, but his biting gaze was all you could feel.
Lingering on the blue pendant nestled at your chest, the everlasting wild rose tucked behind your ear, the mirror to your right - where the twin image of you shone. Powerful, gorgeous, everything that a monster like him could never have because he wasn’t standing there right next to you. His kind never could.
In the back of your mind, you registered collective gasps sounding all around you - the rest of the ball attendees that’d also taken note of the lack of Satoru’s reflection. But your eyes stay locked on him.
A thumb hooks under his blindfold, and he grimaces. “You really were onto me, huh, flower?”
Tugging.
Your fingers tighten around his, unable to let the most fearsome of creatures escape from your grasp. “You must’ve been onto me, too, Satoru.”
Pulling.
All you see is a flash of a regal nose bridge, and the flutter of thick white lashes - before every single chandelier in the ballroom snuffs out at once. Cloaking the room in unnatural darkness, it sends every single knight and noble into a frenzy.
And then, he opens his eyes.
“IT’S HIM-”
“A body! A BODY FOUND IN THE ROYAL GUEST SUITE–
“VAMPIRE! STAY BACK-“
Oh, it’s blue.
That crystal blue.
And then it’s black.
---
SLAM!
“If you must kill me.” Satoru’s voice sounds from somewhere above you. You blink away the darkness, feeling your bleary gaze try and adjust to that unfamiliar high ceiling, the outlines of hauntingly beautiful paintings on it. His ragged breaths cut through your thoughts once more, hastily folding your hand to grip your pendant. “If you must kill me, then I prefer you do it with your own hands, princess.”
You can’t tell whose hand is trembling more - yours or his. Distantly, you realize you’re being pushed up against a luxuriously padded wall, one you’d never seen before in your life.
Where were you?
“The Gojo palace- Please-” he reads your mind, voice breaking at the end of his plea. Gasping - and you can discern two elongated teeth at his canines. Fangs, you realize with a shiver. “You may leave if you want to, you may kill me for what I’ve done. My life is in your hands.”
“Satoru.” you soothe in a hushed voice, despite the way your head was reeling. The Gojo palace? “I won’t kill you.”
“But-”
“Satoru, what does this necklace mean?” You beg, and at this point, you’re not surprised that the necklace is from him - because it was an exact replica of the two burning eyes staring back at you. The only source of light right now, glowing a blue you’d finally found after a lifetime. “Why did you-” you gulp, heart lurching. “Why did you hand me your…life?”
Soft lips play right over your rapid pulse, murmuring into your skin, “S’my soul.” A long, pale index of his plays with the pendant. “The only part of my soul that’s living, gilded into a necklace to be kept in the safest place I know. You.”
“But-” you cry out, trying to get another look at his eyes - but your fiancé only kisses deeper at your neck. Nibbling at the thundering beat just below. “But why did you give it to me?”
“Who else would I give it to, if not for my mate?”
Mates - there were a thousand and one books and official documents detailing everything from a vampire’s killing pattern to the aphrodisiac toxins found in their blood. But the research on a vampire’s mate was far and few between.
Perhaps owing to the lack of willing mates that can come out without persecution, or perhaps due to the vampires’ intense rumored mating rituals. But it didn’t go without its own gossip, you were no stranger to the ladies of the court tittering about how morbidly “romantic” it was that mates were akin to soulmates - how it was an invisible string connecting two people to share a life, a soul.
A vampire’s one and only mate.
Satoru was pinning you harder to the wall now, his pink tongue darting out to lick over your pulse. The fingers holding onto the necklace were now tilting your chin up at him, “Speak to me, flower.”
“I’m your mate?” you whimper, your lips ghosting over his. Already knowing the answer, but fuck you needed to hear it from him. “What does that mean exactly?”
He lets out a pained grunt, pressing his forehead gently against yours. “It means you’re the other half of my soul. My only one, I was born for you.” Pressing a chaste peck on there - and you swear you could feel the nip of two sharp canines against your skin. “The one I’ll fight heaven and hell for, until the very last beat of my cold, dead heart.” Your fingers curl at his shoulders when his mouth moves to the shell of your ear. “The one I’ll kill for, take out every measly scum that thinks they can get with my mate.”
He huffs out a burst of cold laughter when your breath hitches, probably reading over the thoughts running through your mind - Satoru killed them. The guards, Kashimo, Naoya- fuck, maybe even Sukuna. He killed them. He killed them. He killed them. He killed them.
You shiver, “A-and all the wind? The whispers? I thought it was just you these past week b-but- All my life, that was you?”
You know. You knew.
Another kiss - this time to the corner of your eye, and Satoru licks a long, content stripe up the big fat tears unwillingly welling up behind your eyes. He groans at the salty taste of you, taking in a long, drawn-out breath. “Yes.”
All it takes is that single word for your entire body to collapse, thankfully onto an awaiting Satoru. He holds your entire body weight with one hand around your waist, the other coming up to swipe his thumb under those tears rolling down your cheeks now.
He kisses your cheek, “All your life.” The corner of your lips, “And all of mine.”
Run away run away run away run away-
But you can’t - you don’t want to.
Your lips wobble when he nuzzles down your face, leaving a trail of hot kisses with his cold, cold mouth. “As soon as I learned to use my powers - was just a brat you see - I just had to see my mate. To smell her scent.” He’s inhaling deeply again, hands groping over your engagement gown. “Lo and behold, there was you. A cute lil’ princess around my age, tuckered out and fast asleep.” Lingering at your jaw, the hand tight around your waist pulls you painfully closer. Satoru’s knee wedging itself between your trembling thighs, “Imagine my surprise when she took one look at me and cried. Scared me enough to teleport outta there as soon as you opened that smart mouth, flower.”
And the thought of Satoru - tiny and determined - teleporting halfway across the land only to be yelled at by you has you huffing out a shock of laughter.
“So when I heard through the grapevine about your potential engagement, fuck- I couldn’t have ran out of this palace faster. Was so excited I fuckin’ forgot to teleport, too. Even if you were afraid of the ‘cruel Northern king.’”
Fuck - that’s right. He must’ve heard your thoughts that time you met him in the library.
Satoru’s tone drops to a low simper, so close now that you could feel every slight curve of his grin. Every twitch of his fingers sweeping up and down your exposed skin, feeling the delicious thrum of your veins. He could bite you right now - easily. “And luckily, as I grew up, so did my ability to blend in with the darkness.” Eyes boring into yours, something so vulnerable in them now. “But you found me, you always did.”
“Satoru.” you angle your head upwards. “Kiss me.”
And how could he ever deny you?
You wince at the slight pinch of Satoru’s teeth - his fangs - as he crashes his lips into yours in a greedy kiss. Sliding his tongue over to taste those candied lips he’s been dreaming of for years.
“Fuck-” he breathes out through his nose, jaw sagging open further to kiss you deeper. “Fuck, princess.”
Strong arms pin you harder against the wall, and you’re blindly reaching out to reciprocate even a fraction of Satoru’s neediness. Just dragging your hips up and down his muscled thighs. Sinful.
Shit, it was so endearing to him seeing you struggle to touch him this way. And with a flick of a wrist, the candle chandeliers hung high above your heads are lighting up at once. “S’that better, flower?”
It takes every bit of will in you to manage to pull away, yet the thought of seeing Satoru - of really seeing Satoru is what spurs you to break the kiss. Delicate strings of saturated spit snapping in the non-existent air between you two, you take a long look at your new husband.
Fuck, he was so pretty.
You always knew he was.
But even with his face tilted downwards, within the soft light tinting those snowy strands a sunset yellow - you could make out the pretty pink flush all the way from his glossy, ravaged lips, up, up, up to his delicate cheeks - he looked like the last thing from a monster.
“No you’re pretty.” he hums, and you’re still not used to him reading your mind. Head nodding downwards, “Just look, grinding on my thigh like such a slut.”
What met you was a dark pool of slick saturating his trousers, just peeking out over the hem of your dress. It makes you give another lingering, experimental grind.
“Satoru—” you’re letting out a honeyed drag of his name, reveling in the way it makes him swallow heavily. “You can hear my thoughts, right?” Look at me.
Slowly - but surely - familiar blue meets yours. Half-lidded, pupils blown, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have said there were tiny sparks of lightning at the corners of his long white lashes.
You’ve been haunting me my whole life, Toru.
And it was an accident - it really was, your freshly kissed brain too hazy to slur out Satoru’s full name. But the impromptu little nickname has him dragging forwards like he was magnetized.
A low growl escaping when he’s kissing you again. And again. And again and again and-
“Say it-” Two hands are tugging at those tedious ribbons tying your decadent gown together. Pulling. “Say it again f’me.” Ripping.
The more his lips are assaulting yours, the more the dress slips further and further down your shoulders. Tattered. The soft satin leaving goosebumps down your spine as it reveals your neckline - all that skin for him to ruin. To mark.
“Oh-” you’re squealing when one of Satoru’s fangs prick a bit too hard at your lip. Feeling a hot flow of crimson bleed out, the feeling has you so weak. So drunk. “Quite eager, aren’t ya?”
“You have no idea.” he groans again. Soft tongue moving from swirling around your own to lazily pool your blood on it. And you can’t imagine what about the metallic taste would be so euphoric, but he’s letting out his loudest drag of your name yet. Eyes rolling to the back of his head like he’s just tasted a personal slice of heaven. “Fuck- fuck you have no idea.”
You moan into the kiss when he bites down again on your already-bruised lower lip, “I’ve always wanted to do this-” Slow, slow hands kneading up your waist, at a dizzying tempo matching his mouth down your jaw, your neck. Hips bucking, you feel the outline of something so hard between his legs. “-to kiss you. To-” Tethering on the sensitive area of your pulse, “-bite.”
In a split-second, you’re sinking down into plush silk sheets, swallowing you whole in a king-sized bed you didn’t even realize was in the room before.
“S-Satoru, did you teleport us again?” you gasp, eyes adjusting to the intricate paintings on the ceiling that you hadn’t gotten to admire before. Of white-haired youths and roses, of cold, dark palaces and- and you.
You - when you were younger, sleeping peacefully while a little boy watches intrigued from the corner. You - passed out in the library after a long night of reading, two pale hands wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. You - your brows furrowed, head cocked while you pushed past nobles to search for that flash of his blue. You, you, you.
You.
“I can hear the gears in that pretty head turning.” Satoru grins, still kissing you in a languid graze of lips. “And as much as I love it when you hah- admire my lonely paintings, I’d rather you pay attention to-” A low groan curdles at the back of his throat when he’s grinding his massive clothed erection against the syrupy spot at your core. “-me.”
There’s a dark little huff of laughter and with one last bite at the side of your neck, Satoru’s unapologetically tearing right through the middle of your gown.
And you know it’s made with the finest fabrics the country has to offer, you know that no normal man should be able to even rip a tiny shred through your dress - but Satoru is no ordinary man.
Your spike of disappointment is quickly overshadowed by cold breath hovering over your exposed tits. “Oh, so perfect f’me.” he’s groaning, deep and primal. Biting down on your hardened nipple, “Ya think those uptight elders your court has- ah, had would appreciate me desecrating their precious princess before marriage?”
Through gasps, you peek down at his wicked tongue, swirling around the sensitive spots of your areola. “Who- who gives a shit.”
“So feisty.” The peaks of your tits are left coated in him as Satoru pulls away. “So addictive.” Pinching your soft flesh between his teeth - just hard enough that you worry he’s out to draw blood again. “So- so-”
Words are failing Satoru’s sharp mouth as he kisses his way down your body. The valley of your chest, your stomach, your hips.
Down, down, down-
“Fuck, Satoru-” you’re hissing when he easily pulls the pathetic remains of your dress off and onto the floor. The rest of your inner skirts easily following afterwards. “Are you gonna…”
“M’afraid not.” he licks sloppy circles at the skin of your thighs. Tasting, nipping, leaving little marks with his fangs for later. Sloppily soothing his tongue over the tiny droplets of blood beading from the bites, he murmurs stubbornly, “Not until you address me correctly.”
Hesitantly, you reach out a limp hand to thread through his dampening white tresses. Tugging softly to lock those devouring blue eyes with yours, “Please, Toru?”
You get absolutely no warning when he kisses right through that flimsy excuse of your drenched panties to slide his tongue up and down your sopping wet slit. Up and down up and down up and-
“Sh-shit, Toru-” you moan when he’s just dipping the very tip barely past your puffy folds. The fabric of your underwear still sticking to you, “Stop being such a tease, goddammit ngh-”
“Why?” Of course, he toys with your patience even now, addicted to those needy whines falling from your lips. “I jus’ wanna play with my princess’s pretty pussy. What am I getting out of it?”
You smirk, not even having to move your pretty mouth to know you had him in the palm of your hand already. I’d be your mate for life.
It’s all you can do to watch with satisfaction as the great Gojo Satoru gasps - gasps. Slick-glossed lips falling into a soft oh! Hazy eyes widening almost-comically, and at full heady attention while he takes a few seconds to mull over your words.
RIP!
In an instant, your soaked underwear is ripped clean off to bare your dripping cunt for him, wrapped tightly around Satoru’s fingers and disappearing down below to where your imagination couldn’t handle.
“Oh, such a pretty pussy.” he coos, thumbing apart your puffy folds to admire your lewdly winking cunt. Glistening and so so needy, you jolt when he bullies two long fingers past your sloppy entrance. With your greedy hole swallowing every slender inch of Satoru’s fingers easily, “So needy too. This all f’me?”
As if to prove his point, his pink lips wrap around your throbbing clit, grinding his tongue over the ravaged tip. The harsh texture of his tastebuds rolling over every inch of you he could reach.
“Y-yes-” you squeal, hips bucking down mindlessly to try and match his relentless tempo. “S’only for you.”
“Tha’s what I love to hear-” Satoru’s cheeks hollow when he sucks on your sensitive little nub - hard. “Sweeter than I even imagined, shit-”
Every pump of his merciless fingers in and out of your cunt drags along your gummy walls. Deftly curling to prey at those hidden sweet spots of yours he just knew would wrench out such throaty moans from you - and fuck, Satoru thinks- no, he knows that the sound is is favorite song.
“You’re makin’ me- hah making me fall in love all over again.” he gruffs out into your cunt. The pads of his fingers pressing into the cushiony ends of your pussy. “Because look how messy you are- how loud.”
You didn’t know if he had mind-control powers on top of mind-reading, because it’s as if you’re on auto-pilot when your lolling head is whirling down to look at the absolute sin made of you below. Satoru - running his mouth a mile a minute to send white-hot vibrations along your clit. His milky fingers buried knuckle-deep to stretch out your poor cunt. Your sweet sweet juices drooling all over them in such an obscene sheen down his palm, his wrist.
He whines, “Makin’ me wanna-” You jolt when he’s biting down so dangerously around your clit. “Wanna-”
Satoru doesn’t end up finishing his sentence - and he doesn’t have to.
Because he’s pausing his make-out with your clit to spit once. Twice. A thick thumb swiping at the intentional splatter of saliva marking your skin, before surging forwards even deeper - you didn’t even think that was possible. But Satoru has the tip of his nose rubbing methodical circles against your clit, jaw grinding at the base of your pussy, tongue flattening out your pussy lips.
Messy. Harsh.
“Oh- oh my god, Toru-” you’re keening at the feeling of his wet muscle trying to squeeze in past the fingers still continuing their assault on your entrance. “It- it won’t fit–”
“Shhh shhh, s’okay, princess.” he hushes, letting another round glob of spit wet your clingy pussy. “You can take it. You will - otherwise how are you gonna take your husband, hm?”
That little comment has connotations that make your plushy walls clamp down vice-like around his fingers - his tongue. And you’re angling your head just right, blinking away the lustful haze in your eyes to spy down at the rapid, jerky movements of his other hand. Devouring gaze dropping down to-
Oh.
Oh fuck.
It was difficult to even look at the sight below - your panties, soaked and completely see-through with slick and precum, wrapped prettily around what you could make out to be Satoru’s aching cock. Standing proud, twitching wildly with every drag of his fist up and down his glistening length.
“Fuck-” he groans, taking the opportunity to devilishly slip his tongue past your feeble entrance. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck- y’like this, huh?” Drawled out little praises now muffled as he fucks you on his tongue the way he wished he could with his cock. In and out in and out in and out. Pulling back to eye your gaping hole, “I can feel y’getting wetter for me is it because-” Before surging back forwards, as if he’s addicted. “Because-” Again.“Fuck don’t clench around me that way. Was hard enough trying not to fuck you stupid right there in the middle of the ballroom.”
You whine, tears flowing down freely at the sheer pleasure at this point. “Y-you-” you gasp, your five fingers splaying out over Satoru’s head. Pushing even harsher, “You hngh- talk too much- m’so close-”
Partially because you really needed those pretty lips back at your heated core, partially because every word tumbling from his mouth had you throbbing embarrassingly, your slick spreading a glossy sheen on the sheets underneath you.
“Oh yeah? Heh, anything for you, flower.” Satoru grins such a sly, sultry grin and you feel it against one set of your swollen lips. “Absolutely anything.”
In and out in and out. He has his brows furrowed now, concentrated on having every flick and divot of movement pushing you closer and closer towards the edge. Faster. Sloppier. You have half the mind to wonder whether it didn’t hurt - whether Satoru’s tongue wasn’t cramping up from how fast he was going, whether his fingers weren’t tired already.
Out of the corner of your spotty vision, you can see those stuttering squeezes of Satoru’s hand speed up. Trying desperately to match each bullying push of his tongue and his fingers into your overstuffed pussy.
The thought makes you whine, “Oh my god- Toru, m’gonna cum.” And shit, at this point it’s too much. You couldn’t think - you couldn’t even breathe. “M’so close please.” Barely able to even register anything but Satoru Satoru Satoru-
It’s why you don’t even realize at first when you’re finally cumming - Satoru does, though. He feels it in the way your heavenly walls are closing down on his fingers, clenching around him so tight that it was almost difficult to fuck you through your orgasm. Waves of electric pleasure crashing into you and you think you’re drowning.
“Tha’s it.” he rasps. “Cum f’me like that, tha’s it- thaaat’s it, such a good lil’ wife- a perfect mate.”
The fingers stuffed deep inside your pussy are being pulled out in a flash - not letting you waste a moment of your heady high before he’s toying ravenously with your swollen clit. Pinching, and rolling between two soft fingers.
“O-oh fuck, m’-cumming? M’cumming m’cumming-” you moan deliriously, mind just now catching up. Your hips drag your sloppy pussy all over Satoru’s pretty face. Just drenching his noble features with your gushing mess. “Feels too ah- good, Toru.”
And he takes it like it’s everything he needs - everything he’s ever wanted.
Jaw falling slack to let your juices slide down his throat, tongue lolling out flick your spasming cunt through your high. Unstopping. Unwavering.
Even when your vision stops tingeing with black at the edges, even when you think you’re sane enough to form a coherent thought. Even when your climax is bating enough that every flick of Satoru’s tongue only sends almost painful thrums of pleasure down your spine.
“W-wait m’done-” you sob, tasting the salty stream of tears splashing down your face now. “S’too sensitive- ngh-”
When he doesn’t show any signs of stopping anytime soon, you try again - this time thinking the embarrassing thought out loud. I…I really want you inside me now, Toru. Please?
And he pauses - jolting, as if some dark, primal part of him had just been called back to life. Tongue still hot on your cunt, fist still greedy around his rock-hard shaft.
“F-fuck you’re gonna be the death of me, flower.”
And before, you couldn’t get enough of those striking blue eyes, but now you couldn’t escape them.
With inhuman speed, he’s shuffling up the soaked sheets. “An absolute fuckin-” Slick-glossed lips meet yours, smearing along the combination of juices till the lower half of your face was as dripping wet as Satoru’s. “-minx, y’know that?”
“Wh-what can I say?” you tilt your head with a smirk, lips a bit too loose than you’d like - but it didn’t matter anyway, he was in your thoughts. Your mind. “I’m your mate, after all.”
He falls back onto his knees at that sinful little sentence of yours, throwing his head back in a guttural groan. “Fuck- you’re mine alright. See what you hah- do to me? See how this is all your fault?”
If Satoru expected an answer, then he doesn’t receive it. Because every snippy little retort on the tip of your tongue melts when you get a long, hard look at the angry shaft in his hand. So red and angry. Thick enough that you felt your cunt quiver already.
Delicate with prominent veins that glistened and throbbed down his long, long length with each slew of his vigorous fist. And his tip- fuck, blushed your favorite shade of weepy pink, slobbering a sheen of precum all down his wrist, his tufts of cloudy white.
And you realize with a jolt that he still had your panties wrapped around him - looking so tiny around Satoru’s massive cock.
Wordlessly, your hand replaces his.
“W-woah- fuck-” His toned waist flexes with the effort to fuck up into the soft cushion of your palm. “How the- ngh how the fuck does your fuckin’ hand feel this good?”
“You’re so big- fuck, don’t know how I’d- Wait you never imagined this?” you bat your eyes up with faux innocence. A thumb gliding over that deep divot on the very tip of his fat head. “Because I sure have, Toru.”
Satoru’s heavy balls smack against your arm when he shuffles down his pants even further, now fully letting you go ahead with your agonizing torture. “Shit-” he yelps, eyes screwing shut at the image. “Don’t- don’t say that, holy shit.”
You toy with your scrap of panties, massaging every ridge and curve with it. Just dragging your hand up and down. “Would you rather I think it instead?”
Within milliseconds, two sharp fangs are poised right above your rapid pulse, a hand around your throat. “No- no no no no-” Satoru gasps, sounding like he was at the end of his rope. And it takes him a few blinks to realize his position, immediately moving his lips up to nip at your jaw. “Fuckin’ no.” Hard enough that another red pearl of blood drips out, instantly being sucked up greedily by your fiancé. “Gonna make me lose it before I-I ngh-”
With a pained growl, he suddenly has you sitting so prettily on his muscular lap. Your legs splayed out like such a slut, needy cunt slobbering all over where you were sat right on his demanding erection.
By the time you’re realizing your helpless position, it’s too late - and Satoru’s already shrugging off the rest of his pants. Buttons hitting the floor when he just tears his flowing dress shirt off.
“Sh-show off.” you breathe, hands mapping out every dip and curve of the plane of defined muscles displayed before you. So mouthwatering.
“Can tell that you- ngh think m’mouthwatering, flower.” he grins. One hand kneading and groping the flesh of your ass to steady your drooling cunt to kiss at his thick tip. The other keeping one of your palms stuck to his washboard abs, up, up, up to press at his sculpted left pec. “N’ I know m’heart’s not beating, but I’m much the same. Very- much the- same.”
And Satoru’s spent years waiting, yearning - so he doesn’t waste even a second more when stuffing his cock inside your snug cunt.
“O-oh. Satoru- Satoru please oh-”
The stretch - fuck, the stretch. The stretch is so much that it feels like you’re being split apart. Just the bare tip of his fat cock being bullied in short, determined half-thrusts.
And it takes only one, lucky collision into the bullseye of your g-spot and you’re already falling apart.
“Wait- wait wait wait m’gonna-” you gasp, your nails running down his broad, milky back in jagged red lines when you’re cumming once more. Toes curling, hips convulsing wildly on top of a smug Satoru. “Oh my god, ngh- what’ve you done to me, Toru?”
“Now, let me ngh- let me tell you a little secret, hah- princess.” His hand comes up to cup your jaw, gifting a sweet kiss on your swollen lips. “The best thing about mates?” Sharp fangs catch onto your delicate skin, “They feel sex on a whole other level.”
And then he’s bringing down both hands to spread apart the globes of your ass. Your puffy folds are stretched to their limits when he thrusts up once. Muscled thighs flexing underneath yours. Harsh.
Ignoring your pleading keens and the slight resistance at the intrusion of his intimidating size, “Hold on, princess- hold- fuuuuck.” Lips latch onto yours, drinking up every heady whine when your poor cunt is being fed every inch by fucking inch. “You’re taking me so well.”
And that you were - your pussy lips bulging and struggling to accommodate Satoru’s monstrous size, but still taking him in so greedily.
“There we go.” he grunts out, punctuated with heavy rams of hips. Up, up, up until you could feel Satoru’s sobbing tip graze against your cervix - your lungs. “Theeere we fuckin’-” Pushing and pushing until there was no more, until your neglected clit was scratching against his snowy pubic hair. Ass coming to rest at his twitching balls. “-go.”
“You’re in so deep-” you’re blabbering, cockdrunk already. The last few dredges of your high still not wearing off, it takes you a few seconds of Satoru still trying to squeeze his cock even deeper to manage to raise a hand about midway up your stomach. Feeling for that vertical bulge that was him, “-can feel you right here.”
“Oh yeah?”
And like he was testing your theory, Satoru fucks up into your gummy hole in another bullying slam. Watching in wonder at the way that little divot in your stomach crashes around the same spongy cervix he was.
“Fuck- you’re right.” he hisses. Addicted now. Immediately rocking into you with reeling, long rolls of his hips. “You’re so- fuckin’ right.”
You can’t find the energy in yourself to even yelp in surprise when Satoru immediately changes your positions so that you’re now laying fucked-out on the mattress. His domineering hips pinning you down to use you like some little cocksleeve.
“God-” he pants into your open mouth, tongue swirling with your weighty one. “God- fuck fuck fuck if heaven is real then this is it.” Each little profanity is decorated with a smoldering crash of his tip into your sweet spot. “You’re the heaven I don’t ngh- deserve, flower.”
That neat bitemark on your thigh is being jostled with the amount of ragged movement, and you wince with pain when it starts flowing again.
“Oh- oh.”
Satoru’s like a predator that has cornered his prey, and is spending hours tediously unraveling every single bit of you.
Sliding two smooth palms underneath your legs, they’re urgently thrown over his large shoulders to fold you down, down, down into the meanest mating press you think you could handle - handle without fucking breaking, that is.
“So good t’me.” he breathes, long tongue easily licking up that sweet nectar of your blood. “Y’know your cute lil’ brain s’too scrambled to even read right now.”
“H-how can I think when you’re ah! Like- like this, Toru?”
The sudden change in angle makes you scream. It makes you clamor for the headboard, the sheets, your husband when that obscenely perfect upwards curve of his dick is massaging every nook and cranny of your cunt.
“Yeah? Feels good? Now now- don’t run- away” he’s dragging you down those drenched sheets by the legs like some ragdoll, stuffing you more and more with his painful cock. Fucking you so relentless, like he was trying to worship every little hidden sweet spot inside your dripping cunt. “Say it- no no no, not in your head. Say it.”
And you do - a little over fifteen times when his thick hilt pecks your pussy lips over and over with each thrust when Satoru bottoms out, hitting all the way into the back of your cunt - your cervix, your g-spot - like he couldn’t decide which one to bruise more.
“S’too good-” you’re gasping. Your overstimulated pussy being molded like clay to the girthy shaft kissing down your cunt. Stretching out your elastic walls until you could almost feel them take shape to his swollen cock. Feel every sensitive spot inside you being overstimulated at once with every burning massage against them. “You’re fuckin’ me way too- too good- ngh- can’t even think.”
But that wasn’t enough for him.
Dipping a thumb down to circle around your clit, white-hot pleasure shoots up your spine when he lets out a deep rumble, “Think I fell in love with you when I- fuck, right then and there when I first- hah saw you all those years back.” speeding up with the sloppy staccato of his rude cock. Satoru’s words slurring now, messed up and half-prepared like the accelerating half-thrusts being bestowed upon your ravaged cunt. Like he couldn’t bear to pull out completely. “The first time you saw me, you were so afraid. Look at you- fuck, jus’ look at you now, princess.”
Each word is like a brand onto your sticky skin, accompanied by harsh smacks of Satoru’s balls against your ass, his sharp hip bones digging into your thighs. Him.
“Toru–” is all you can manage to whine out, a limp hand pulling his face closer to yours. You’re jumping with each swipe at your poor clit. “Toru m’here.”
“And- and yet-” he’s still blabbering, still pussydrunk while he fucks you so menacingly. Fingers sopping wet with their assault on your sensitive nub, “And yet I just- fuck-” He cuts himself off to give your messy hole another thick stream of spit. Coating his long, raw shaft - rubbed red with the way your gripping walls were massaging him so right - making it easier to slide in and out. “And yet, I just had to see you, to see the gorgeous mate I don’t deserve. I couldn’t live without you.”
A single overstimulated tear glistens a track down Satoru’s pretty face - one you kiss away as quickly as it appeared. Nudging open those teary, blue gaze to bore down on you.
Oh, he looked an absolute wreck - white hair mussed up, stray strands sticking to his forehead. Glossy lips parted, drool pooling at the corner, broken grunts leaving him with each smash of his tip back into your cunt. So blissed out.
Jolting at your eyes on him, Satoru feels his balls tighten so painfully. Abs burning when his pace stutters with need.
“You’re haunting me, just as much as I was haunting you, Toru.”
The candles go out. Instantly.
And shit you’re feeling it first when when hé’s cumming and cumming so hard that it almost hurts. Flashes of white startling behind his closed, glassy eyes. “Shit- shit shit shit shit-” Hairs on your body raising as Satoru’s fingers draw circles on your clit so aggressively. Dragging out your high. Forcing it. “Take it- take it all, my flower. Let me paint this pretty pussy all white.” Violent, almost.
So, really, it makes sense that your third orgasm of the night was the same.
Just shivering, sinful tingles running from your overstimulated mind right down to where Satoru was stuffing thick white ropes of potent seed deeper and deeper down your tight channel.
Overspilling with each calculated ram, his cum is oozing out of the corners of your puffy lips with each furious clench of his balls. Too much.
And it’s all you can do to sit there and take it, feeling the sloppy dredges of cum make a mess slobbering down your thighs and his. Starting up blearily at the blurry paintings on the ceilings. The paintings of you - of a still Satoru that looked down at you with only half as much intensity and pure swirling emotion as he was right now.
Something that couldn’t be painted - but would make such a pretty picture, when his fangs bite into that racing junction at your neck.
You scream a soundless scream of his name, eyes rolling to the back of your head as something warm fills your entire body.
Leaving your words unheard, your ravaged hole loose to let out slobbering squelches of Satoru’s cum. Blood racing and flowing right into Satoru’s greedy mouth.
“Princess-” he gulps. Tongue licking up every crimson bead his crazed eyes could spot, body aching when he dares pull away from that heavenly taste. More. “Princess princess princess- you- hngh you’re mine. All mine now.”
And he’s letting out more thick globs of cum straight into your waiting cunt. Body bowing even harder to let it seep into your elastic walls, your womb. So much more than you can take and he just keeps giving.
It seems like forever when Satoru finally pulls away - and within the glowing blue of his eyes, you can see the red staining his lips, dripping down those fangs, his chin. Staining the silk sheets below - staining you with so much more.
Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching up to catch his lips in a bloodied kiss. Your own elongated canines catching amateurishly on his lips.
Satoru hisses - but he likes it. And you can tell.
You can read every single hypnotizing thought whirling behind those crystal blue eyes - how he wants to ravish you again, how he wants to worship you. To make you his all over, to have you make him yours. The thought makes you smile as you whisper, “I’m onto you, Toru.”
“You’re onto me, flower.” Catching your lips in a sweet, sweet red kiss. “Forever.”
A/N. This was SOOO fun to write omg y’all have no idea. If you made it this far then you get a sloppy smooch from me mwahhhh.
he's a typical military male. mean, blunt, and cold. he's not much for pda with his love, it's not that he's ashamed of you or anything, but at most he holds your hand if you ask him. he's ghost—he has a reputation to uphold!
so no, you can't take photos of him in your girly bed that has a concerning amount of plushies and the softest, pinkest blankets he's ever had the pleasure of sleeping with, and you can't call him baby or a childish petname that isn't si or my love because he's a grown man pushing into his mid thirties almost forties and he doesn't want his teammates to think he's a sissy.
he wouldn't hear the end of it if his teammates knew that he sleeps best with his head on your chest and your arms wrapped around him like mother and son, protecting him from the cold, dark world. society expects him to be dominating and masculine. in the barracks at night, his teammates often ask him for deets on how he fucks his woman back home, but truth be told when they ask, his mind only thinks about how hard he cums inside of you when he makes love to you deep and slow, suckling on your breasts with your hands dragging deliciously up and down his back, soothing him until he's nothing but a trembling and whimpering mess—so instead he tells them to go fuck themselves.
in public, you'll whine and complain when he declines your offer to hold him, so he lets you steal a kiss or two as compensation. however, simon has a tiny dilemma when it comes to you. he may act cold and unaffected, but deep in his heart he's an absolute sucker for your attention and praise. once he got ahold of you, it's like he became addicted to this thing that people like you call love—your love.
so when you pull away, balance flat on your feet, simon stares down at you with round gleaming eyes that tell you everything that he can't say. please, more.
and you deliver, because your simon gives you all you want and he deserves to receive the same treatment. you get back on your tippy toes and press your soft lips against his, to which he instantly responds with pressing his against yours. he knows he said only a kiss, but his hands seem to have a mind of their own as one of them cup the back of your head, not giving you the chance to step away.
the kiss gets more wild than he anticipated. in the back of his mind, as he flicks his tongue against your bottom lip, he wonders where his sense of control went, but his eyes are already glazing over and soon the kiss turns into a sloppy thing, saliva threatening to spill from the corner of his mouth as you absolutely ravage your boyfriend.
there's many people around the two of you, giving disapproving faces as you... ruin him. he feels destroyed. weak. this is not how it's supposed to be. he's the one meant to press you into the wall, groping you, but no, you're the one who is cupping the bulge in his pants without a care in the world, parting from him just to whisper "you like that, baby?" before you're back crashing your lips against his, to which he nastily groans at.
he's a blushing mess, eyes glossy and chest heaving as he pants into the kiss. he lets you nip at his lips and draw blood, lets you drink him up until you pull away suddenly with a lewd pop!, licking his saliva off your lips as you look at him with a mischievous smirk, satisfied at the sight of your boyfriend, usually composed and as stoic as stone, now an absolute mess; pink in the cheeks and sucking on his own bottom lip from shyness, his hands fumbling with the hem of your shirt.
simon riley comes home after a long day, body aching and his mind exhausted. he quirks a brow when he sees the usually bustling kitchen now void of his beloved. he walks down to the only other place his girl would be, their bedroom. and as he guessed, there you were. lying down in your short pink nightgown, hiked up and stopped right at your thighs, leaving much to imagine.
you're on your stomach, arms hugging the pillow your head is on. your eyes are shut and your breathing steady, you're clearly asleep. he stops by the foot of the bed, admiring your figure before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder. that gentle action does nothing to wake you from your slumber.
he smiles and continues pressing kisses onto your back, his hands reach up to hold your hips. his thumbs gently dig into the plush of your flesh before pushing the fabric up. to his surprise, you're completely bare underneath—your soaked cunt all for display.
he can barely bite back a groan at the sight of you. he can't help but run his thumb over your slit. that earns him a soft whine from your sleep. he softly grins at your reaction and decides to tease you. gently, he parts your folds and eases in two fingers. tight but easy enough because of your wetness. at first, you let out a small noise, but when he slowly pumps his fingers, your body shifts ever so slightly. your face twists as you emit a small moan.
the sight of you being finger fucked asleep by him was enough to make his pants tighter than usual. he quickens his pace, making you moan louder. he curls his fingers, and that's when your eyes open. softly, your lashes flutter, you look around confused but in pleasure. you look back and see him. "m-mmh babe..?" you ask yet does nothing to stop him. he, however, continues moving his fingers. he then presses a kiss to your exposed neck, murmuring in response; "mhm. I'm home, baby." your eyes shut again as you whine. it isn't long until you got wetter, your legs slightly parting—as if asking for more.
he smiles subtly at your unraveling. but suddenly, he pulls his fingers out. this makes you whine and look back at him. he chuckles and gets on the bed, between your legs. he unbuckles his belt, throws it to the floor where it can be forgotten, undoes his pants and pulls out his cock. leaking and eager.
you whine again, peaking from your pillow. "i'm too tired to do anything..." you admit. he chuckles and rubs the back of your thigh. "i know, baby. I'll take care of you." he can see the soft blush on your cheeks but his attention snaps back to your cunt. he positions himself over you, pulling you up by the hips a bit. he nudges the tip in, letting you ease into it before pushing more in. you immediately whimper and clutch the pillow harder. he can feel your body trembling, not from pain, but for more.
he whispers sweet praises to your ear as he pushes more. one of his hands covers yours as the other grips your hip. he kisses your temple and nape when he finally bottoms out. after letting you get used to his size, he pulls out midway and thrusts back in. upon doing so, you clutch the pillow tighter, muffling your moans into it. his hand moves back to your hips as he starts moving.
"aah... simon!" you whimper. your mouth is open, a string of lewd noises escaping you. you buck your hip, earning a groan out of him from the sudden movement. "you feel sooo good.. so good!" you slur, both from pleasure and your previous slumber.
he pulls out suddenly, then gently flipping you onto your back before pushing back in. you moan incoherent noises at this point, that only get amplified when he bends your legs to your chest. his hands grip the back of your thighs firmly, his cock still moving at its fast pace. your face contorts in ecstasy and your toes curl. this new position making his cock reach even deeper places.
at a particular angle, you cry out. stars flash behind your eyes as he kisses your sweet spot with his tip. he immediately picks up on that and angles his thrusts to hit it repeatedly. you shout his name, your back arches off the bed. "fuck- baby baby- please! oh god!" you sob. he groans as he feels your walls tighten. he folds you further in, fucking you senseless in an attempt to chase your climax.
your noises get louder, loud enough to expect a complaint from their neighbor tomorrow morning. "right there! don't stop- don't fucking stop!" you beg, clawing at his back desperately. he leans down to add to your pleasure, licking on your breast and sucking eagerly. he feels his impending release as well, thrusting roughly a few more times before trying to pull out. but not before you lock your legs around him, keeping him in. "no- no cum in me, give me your baby..!" you whine desperately. that plea alone almost turns him feral. he thrusts into your cunt deep and hard before burying himself deep into you, spilling his seed and painting your insides white with cum. the sensation of getting filled up was too much for you, and just at the same time, a deep and pitched moan signals your release.
he eventually pulls out, peppering kisses all over your face and uttering the softest praise
Synopsis. When he’s gonna hit it, he’s gonna hit it till your mind breaks.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, dúmbifícation, running from it, cervíx kíssing, matíng presses, PÚSSYDRÚNK JJK MEN, bréeding, GOJO’S POWERS, mentions of kíds, p talking, headIocks, true form Sukuna, dp, spítting, cúmplay, MEAN Geto, breaking the béd, p spánking, marathons, proposals, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. PHEW hoping you have the loveliest week <3
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 3 min. 12 secs
“Tch- where the hell do ya think you’re runnin’ off to, doll?”
Toji’s trapping both your droopy ankles with one dextrous set of his thick fingers, dragging you about halfway down the king-sized mattress in an instant. He’s oh-so-greedily pinning them over the curvaceous dip of his deltoids with a mean, sweat-slicked palm, “Don’t tell me yer hah- tapping out after only three minutes?”
Punctuating his filthy push and pull with a few syrupy thwack! thwack! thwacks! of his strawberry-pink tip down your sappy slit. He’s leaving generous wiry ribbons of pre that smudge and smear a pretty lipgloss as you clench.
“N-nooo m’not–” You’re shaking your dizzy head as urgently as you could, huffing at the utter teasing in Toji’s sleazy, dimpled smirk. “I’m just…”
But what could you even say at this point?
“Oh?” Toji’s letting his dark brows scrunch at your hypnotized silence, the way your gaze was practically plastered with little heart-eyes and- Oh. Oh. He can’t help but loosen a breathy snicker as the realization hits. “Already?”
Yes, already.
Because Toji Fushiguro never held back - he never ever hid that his exact goal in these lecherous sheets was to fuck you until you saw stars.
Always ruthless whenever he’s kissing your spongy cervix with such copious French kisses of his fat, rotund head. Always swollen so thick, with probing little veins sprinting against every one of your tender spots.
The stretch so maddening that it left a translucent trail of dribble spilling from the corners of your mouth. Puddling out with every pressurized pound to swirl wet splotches all over that magical spot until you were sure it was bruised and battered.
Until you were sure you couldn’t even formulate the thought process let alone the words to vocalize that he’d utterly fucked you stupid in all but three minutes.
“Heh- shiiiit-” You’re blinking away the glazed film of lust that’d taken over your eyes, just in time to catch the way that Toji peeks his willowy eyes down below. Letting out the sexiest low whistle at the mess he’s making, “Think s’ a new record. Now, where’d my ngh- mouthy girl go, huh?”
Roughened circles of his digits dig into your legs, tightening and tightening when - with a ragged grunt - Toji bends. He hunches his bulky body until you’re compressed in half, washboard abs melting into your front, your heels imprinting into his back - into the dirtiest mating press. Gruffing, “Have ya seen her?”
And you swear you catch the way that Toji’s fattened tip only stretched tautly wider, swabbing around your sloppy hole in a teasing circle. He’s buttering you up with numerous lecherous slurps until you were dripping.
But he was so slow - so taunting. Sharp malachite eyes dazzling with sheer amusement when you’re raking frustrated red, red lines down his muscular back. Mumbling tearily, I-If you’re not gonna hngh- fuck me properly already then–”
“Mhm- ya really are fucked dumb already.”
Hah, as if he already needed to confirm.
Because of course he was waiting for just this exact moment.
Flooding your honeyed lips with the prettiest broken whines when he’s plugging you mind-splittingly full. Rasping out a low fuck! at the gummy resistance, Toji’s vice-like restraint on your legs grow even sounder as he all but hauls you down every snug inch of his cock.
So solidly and completely spearheading his upright curve into your molten walls, it’s like you were scorching all around him. Sucking him up for more more more-
“Heh, do ya even r-realize how much you’re ngh- milkin’ me?” He’s cooing, pumping you with grinding ram after ram that has your clit massaging against Toji’s tufted black happy trail. Scratching. Filthily.
“T-Toji—” And it’s the only thing you can say - the only thing replaying in your mind again and again and- Your maw slacks so scandalously open when his gluttonous fat head sugarcoats your g-spot in a melty mess of precum. Sloshing and sheathing your rummaged insides in a sticky second layer. “There- more- more please- m-more-”
You didn’t even have to ask.
Because Toji’s second-ever weakness was having you completely cockdrunk and stupid on his swollen length - his first being, well, you in all your entirety - and his third? Making you even stupider.
Breath hitching, he’s angling his toned hips just right to brush up recoiling pecks on your precious spots exactly the way you like it. Making the splintering bedframe creak and whine almost as much as you.
Eyes lounging lazily to the back of your head, your tongue lolls out with every dredge of creamy pre making it’s home near your g-spot. “Ngh- yeah- m-m…” Couldn’t even speak.
With a hoarse belt of chuckles, Toji’s free hand pokes your fuzzily cotton-filled head. “Oiiii- d’ya even hngh- have anythin’ else in yer cockdrunk mind? Ya always get so ah- greedy when yer like this, hm?” Those very same fingerpads hovering over your buttony clit, he’s giving you a sudden pinch. “Especially…her.”
Oh, that did it - just as Toji knew it would.
Because you’re giving such a gluey squeeze of your adhesive-like walls around Toji’s throbbing shaft - making his chest stutter with a condensed heave, mouth lathering in a fresh batch of saliva that coats his sinful scar, and his brain short-circuiting just enough to feel the way you cum.
And not just any old orgasm - Toji’s spitting out a sharp few slews of profanity when he feels his hefty base soak in shiny, vicious waves of your slick. Blinking his dazed eyes down at his glistening abs - his pecs - to titter at how drenched he was.
How you’d squirted until his weepy cock was dripping with every ounce of sopping wet juices. That blankly loving filter in your stare that made him wonder if you even realized how hard you’d squirted - or whether you realized that you did at all.
You looked so tempting that he really, really can’t help but drag a thick thumb around your saturated pussy lips, drawing little hearts round and round where you were still bulging with all his bloated inches.
“Awwww– already?” Toji’s hips were still so mean, panted out through each scouring jackhammer of his cock. He’s drenching little puddles on his digit, slipping it into his mouth with a greedy pop! And- shit, maybe he’s the one fucked stupid now. “How sweet. S-sooo generous this pretty pussy is.”
Because in a split-second he’s coiled two big, beefy arms around your waist. Biceps digging into your mounds of flesh, silky sheets hot against his back as he manhandles you to pliantly flip over however he wanted.
Ruddied cock still buried deep into your goopy depths. So easy. So filthy. “Don’t think we’re gonna be hah- done for a long, long time, doll.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - 7 min. 4 secs
“My love.” Nanami’s engulfing hand oh-so-sweetly cradles one side of your pretty face as you ride him senseless. Running his fat thumb down the tear-slicked rim of your lips. He’s warm, soft - the complete opposite of that chilling wedding band of his against your scorching flesh. “My love- a-are you alright?”
“Mhm— M’doin’ juuuust fine.” you’re barely able to mumble out, head lolling behind you as he thwacks his plump tip once more against your gummy cervix. Twice more. Thrice. “Ngh- easy, baby, the k-kids are sleeping.”
But your dear husband can sense that something is off. Something is…different.
Maybe in the way that you’re looking up at him with bigger and bigger heart eyes after every rolling jackhammer, maybe in the way you’re practically plastered against his hulking body. Soft tits glissading up and down up and down the sweat-slicked plane of his wide, cushiony pecs. So drunken. So pliant. And he can’t help but plant a soppy smack! against the hooded of your puffy clit with one free hand.
“Oh!” Your back curls into such a slutty arch - such a heavenly sight that makes him wish he had a photographic memory - squirmy hips bucking down harder and- “H-harder- Kentooo- wan’ some more–”
Oh?
And Nanami’s feeling his thickened head splurge your gooey insides with creamy wads upon wads of glossy pre at the mere thought - just the simple idea of you fucking yourself dumb while riding him.
He could probably cum just from watching you like this.
Breath hitching choppily, he’s grabbing your throat - dragging you like some ragdoll until you were only mere condensed inches away from him. You couldn’t be…could you?
“Ken—” Your spit-slicked bottom lip juts out, weighty shuffling forward to press a pretty peck against that shallow dimple on the corner of his lip. Oh, you’d meant for it to land on his lips…but. “Awww, I missed.”
Oh.
But of course he can’t leave his dear wife hanging - especially not when you’re all fucking yourself stupid on him like this.
He’s gifting you with an utterly dizzying kiss - making your tummy so melty with butterflies even after all these years. And you can’t help but keen-
“D-darlin’-” Nanami almost feels like he’s the utterly speechless one now, curling a singular hand around your waist to help your stumbling hips use his cock steadier. Deepening the angle to pound battered hit after hit against your tenderized favorite spots. Those manicured nails of his leave pretty crescent marks all over your fleshy skin when his uprightly curved cock thwacks! upwards. Feral. “Do you- ngh- know how b-beautiful you look right now?”
“Huh?” It’s so adorable how you’re stealing a few sloppy gyrations first before even registering what he’s asking. Cockdrunk and wordless that he’s coaxing out your answer with a sodden thumb smearing your waterfalling drool. “N-no?”
And without a second’s warning - without even a single speck of hesitation - the hand around your tender throat turns vice-like. Shackling. Cutting off both your airway and your heavenly view of a sexily prespired, half-lidded Nanami - turning that bleary gaze of yours towards the specially-installed mirror by your bed.
Head craning to the side to catch how fucking ruined you looked right now, hips moving out of control. Cunt just bawling with a syrupy slick mess pooling underneath you two with every shuddering spearhead of his cock.
“See? Just see h-how ngh- pretty my wife is.” Nanami’s rasping out, utterly wrecking your insides despite his sweet, sweet words. Branding circular divots of his head right into the very resiny bottom of your cervix. His lightning bolted veins just thump cheekily against your g-spot. “Always so pretty- could cum j-jus’ from seeing your ah- gorgeous face ‘nyways b-but…” Fuck- if you were in any better state of mind you’d have caught the way his stoic ears burn red. “...especially when you’re dumb like this.”
“Kento-” You’re crying out, mussing a hand through his dampened strands of blond. Tugging. Pulling to make him hiss. “C-cum inside me. Please. Wan’ it all i-inside- want you to make me pregn-”
“A-another?”
“Another.”
Fuck.
You were making him lose it.
So rudely swatting your hands away to pin them behind your back with only one of his - metallic wristwatch cold against your heated skin. He’s curling your back into a simpering inflection before hammering you with the almost-inhuman thick curvature of his cock, splotching out a wet few wisps of creamy white-
“Not yet- not yet-” Nanami’s muttering, and in your stupidly fucked state you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or himself. “Can’t- can’t ngh- yet-”
Rapturing it like a mantra over and over while blotting your g-spot with sloppy, dirty remnants of precum. Sloshing and glazing his bulky base and all the way down to his tight, thwacking balls. Making such a mess that only leaves you whining incoherently, jolting as if spiked by a sudden million volts of bliss when Nanami’s scooping up the sugary gloss and smearing it back into your gaping entrance.
Until you’re curling your toes taut enough that you can barely move, fingers digging into the pale skin of his back, your vision tinging with a sudden flurry of stars as you cum.
“Tha’s it- that’s right–” he’s breathing out, labored and throaty. So fucking grateful for those sound-proofed walls he installed when you had your first. Voice dipping into almost whiny territory as your husband’s babbling everything that your dumbfounded maw can’t, “Ride me- f-fuck- ride me until ya cum. Ruin me until I can…”
And with a sopping pivot of his fat shaft to hit right against the edges of your womb, he’s flooding your melty cunt with copious ribbons upon ribbons of thick seed. Milky. Heavy. Icing your weepy insides in his favorite white.
“M’gonna take c-care of it- take care of ya-” Nanami’s whispering in a hot pant against your ear, breath so strained and heated that it’s sending shivers down your spine. “Got a place hah- alllll safe n’ sound right- here-”
Nanami can only grin at that inflationary little nudge of where he’s feeling his spattering cum seep press gluey little kisses into your glutinous walls. Because yes, you were gorgeous when you’re fucked dumb like this…but you were even more gorgeous when you’re all round and glowing for him. Patting your pretty tummy, just so impatient for his newborn daughter - yes, daughter - already.
He’s batting his loving eyes down at your fatigued figure with so much adoration that it’s practically palpable. Sensitive tip twitching a perking jerk dangerously…Nanami licks his lips. When you look like this, he wants m-
“Kento—”
Your needy whine snaps him out of his pussydrunken hypnosis, smacking a few innocent smooches against the side of your forehead. “Yes, my love?”
“More.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - 4 min. 27 secs
Shit- shit.
You were so fucking cute - so dangerously ruined on Geto’s cock after only a few sloppy slathers of his thickened shaft down your spongy cervix that it was almost dangerous. That the ever-teasing Geto Suguru is finding his smirking mouth fill up with a few sing-songy coos.
“Awwww, always so ngh- mouthy. What happened- you doin’ alright, gorgeous?” he’s breathing out in a hot baritone up against your ear, opaline white canines sinking into your lobe eagerly. “Though- guess she’s hah- talkin’ in yer place now, hm?”
She being your goopy cunt, the way it was resonating out the most sinfully saturated squelches! with every sheathing lamination of Geto’s cock inside your gummy walls. Practically talking - begging for more with every probing jackhammer of his angry, ample tip.
And with your teary gaze tiredly panned over your shoulder, you can make out the way that Geto was nodding. Dewy eyes scrunched shut like he was in deep thought, pretty lips moving to speak absolute filth. “Mhm– you’re heh- right. That would feel b-better, huh?”
Conversing - but not to you.
And within one frowzy bat of your lashes, Geto drags up one of his thick, muscular legs. Years upon years of flexibility in battle being taken advantage of when he’s planting a foot down on your dizzy head and pinning you there.
“Ngh! Sugu—” you can only whine, struggling and soaking yourself with the deepening change in angle.
He’s only tutting at your sappy cunt, “I know- such a nasty girl, huh? So fuckin’- loud- too.”
Loud. So loud - and you weren’t even trying to be. Streamy rivulets of your glossed slick slurp out with every thudding thwack! of Geto’s sweltering hot tip drilling its way inside your elastic depths. He was so burning hot - feverish.
Shoulders slumping, head bowing at just how lecherously you were sucking up every. Single. Blow he gave. And he can already feel the languid trickle of drool spattering at at the corners of his lips, “So cute- sooo cute- but the- ngh- the whole fuckin’ association’s gonna hear ya, y’know~”
Before you know it you’re being engulfed with one of Geto’s massive palms - cold, slender, reaching over to muffle the utterly scandalous noises spilling uncontrollably from your sagging mouth.
“Not you, though-” he’s tittering, eyes locked down on the way all those weighty inches of his were disappearing and dabbing its way into your needy cunt. “You—” Leaving a particularly wet drag down your mushy insides, “Can ngh- talk allll you like- hah, because you didn’t get fucked stupid after only f-four minutes.”
“Ugh! So mean S-Sugu—” you’re sobbing out when his puffy head sponges against your poor g-spot for the nth time this night. Throbbing veins massaging your walls until you were sure your own heartbeat was syncing up with that staggering cadence. Nails raking down his strong forearm, “M-more–”
“What was that—?” He’s leering his head as close as possible, making your mouth lacquer with a greedy volume of saliva at the way his shoulders flex. Overflowing down his palm. “Heh- making such a m-mess, filthy girl. If ya want something, say it l-louder.”
Oh, by now you’re not just dumbstruck by his relentless pace - but also by how pretty Geto looks. With his long, inky hair freefalling in a soft curtain that tickles your curvaceous spine, half-lidded eyes unfocused and mean, cheeks flushed an innocent pink that matches his weepy tip.
And it’s just about all your melty mind can manage to hiccup out, “More.”
“Awww how cute- s’that all you can s-say?” He’s chuckling in a delirious little tone from above you, free hand nuzzling against your pulsing clit softly. Teasingly. Fully enjoying how you’re struggling against his hold to let out just a few more pretty noises. “Tell me.”
You’re nodding - nodding and nodding so hard that Geto snickers.
But, well, who ever said that Geto Suguru was a merciless man?
“Fine- I’ll let ya have yer little fun.” He’s rasping out with a hoarse sort of shudder at the very thought that makes him whimper. But- shit, was he glad that you’re too stupidly ruined on his achy cock to notice. Too drunkenly ecstatic when he’s suddenly setting free your wobbly mouth, “If you can first hah- speak a proper s-sentence while takin’ my fuckin’ cock- how about it?”
“I-I- ngh!”
But, shit, Geto wasn’t making it easy for you - the weight of his herculean body being pressurized into his foot even harder. He’s driving his hips into you so rocky that you’re sure you spot a few purplish bruises on his sultry hip bones.
“Heheh-” Ah, he’s having so much fun leaving you stupidly speechless like this. You’re only whining when he toys a thick thumb around your clit, before pressing down on that buttony hood. Hard. “Biiiig stretch makin’ you stupid, gorgeous?”
It was. Oh, it really, really was - and right now you’re so far gone that the only thing you can do is take it.
And Geto’s so perfectly practised in ruining you this way, too. Planting dense drivels of his fleshy tip against your sweetened spots, dragging the tubby divot in wet little smears in expert time with every squeeze of your clit.
“Yes-” you’re mewling out a belated response to his question. “Yes yes yes-”
Only to be cut off with Geto’s palms smearing back onto your dozy mouth, blocking out the slews of addicted whines that just won’t stop.
And, honestly, that heartbrokenly teary look in your eyes is so adorable that Geto’s throat clogs up with his own little whine.
God, you were breathtakingly contagious.
Voice strained - halfway through breaking - dipping a few octaves higher than usual when he’s hushing out, “Shh shhh- no needa force that ah- pretty lil’ head to overwork-” Leveraging the hold around your mouth to drag you backwards into his cadence. Filthier. More. “-you jus’ focus on t-taking my cock like a ngh- good girl and I-” Oh, he’s almost collapsing onto you - already in for a long, long night waking up the association. “-will focus on fillin’ this talkative cunt up.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - 6 min. 18 secs
“Ch-Choso–”
And, to Choso, it was like the pearly gates of heaven had already opened their way up - and sat right front and center waiting on the other side for him was you.
With your trembly legs splayed out on either side of his vicious hips, hands sticking oh-so-desperately to the leather seat of his sleek black Hellcat. You’re lathering his swollen cock with thick, lustrous coatings of his cum from just before - when he’d crashed into his orgasm simply from putting it in. Drowning out your thoughts with the most saccharine sweet slurps from down below-
“Cho, baby–” Tapping his lovingly blushed cheeks a few times to knock your dear best friend back to at least an ounce of his senses. You brush away a few chestnut strands sticking to his prespired forehead, “D-dunno how m’gonna face your f-family after- ngh- this!”
And it takes him a few sloppy seconds - it takes him everything to even think of a jumble of words that might count as a reply.
Clammy hands latching on greedily to your vigorous hips, Choso has to force your cadence to slow down until he can string together a few syllables with his slack mouth. “Wh-why? I already hngh- parked a few blocks away from dad’s, s-so they won’t catch-”
“I know but—” your whining comes out so treacly condensed in the heady air of his car. Making him mindlessly ram another syrupy snog into your cervix. “But- you’re just fucking me so- so stupid.”
Oh.
That’s enough for Choso’s head to fall attractively backwards until his full weighty body was being supported solely by the cushiony seat. Pretty twinkling tears of sensitivity clinging onto his batting lashes, he’s whimpering, “M-me? I’m fuckin’ you hngh- stupid, baby?”
“Mhm—”
Nodding your head, your thighs just burn after every shuddering dab of Choso’s thickened length probing inside your gooey insides. Mushing up a spot modeled after him, an angry circumference of his fat tip indented into your poor g-spot. You’re feeling rivulets of his veins reaching each and every sensitive spot you never could.
He was drilling into you so filthily. So dirtily that your head was spinning with each sloshing wad of his seed swirling your insides.
And Choso - fuck, Choso looked like he was on the very urge of sobbing. Or, perhaps he was, you were much too cross-eyed at this point after every ram to confirm.
“I’m fuckin’ you s-stupid- Me.” he’s breathing out with such an air of worship. Blindly clasping one of your hands smeared against the foggy window to guide up to his lips and kiss. “S-say it again, my pretty baby. Heh…”
And right now, you don’t think you would’ve wanted to even if you could.
Jostling your hips with fresh pound after pound that leaves your soppy mounds of flesh stinging at the impact, every doughy thwack! of Choso’s plump, cum-filled balls against your ass has you gasping. “F-feel so- hngh- dumbstruck right now, Cho–”
“Because of m-my cock?” He’s giggling - giggling, a sleazy grin splitting that handsome face of his. Choso’s steering your needy hips to bounce down his copious inches faster. And faster. “Heh- is takin’ my cock like a hah- good girl m-makin’ you feel good?”
Fuck- and you can only nod.
“After o-only a few minutes?”
Punching your fists against his broad chest, but to Choso it only feels like a few kittenish bumps. “Cho! M’gonna g-get off if you t-”
“No! No no no no—” His knees thwack! against the car interior when he’s manspreading even wider. Legs jerking tightly up and down to collide your tender insides with plumpish mushroomy cockhead, “Stay- stay. Hngh! Hafta fuck you s-soooo much stupider.”
Fully as stupidly speechless as Choso was right about now, you didn’t know who was faring worse.
His muscular thighs slipping and sliding against yours with a glazed coating of cum and your honeyed slick. A low ah! ah! ah! slipping out every few seconds from those rosy pink lips of his with every drooling blow into your slobbery pussy.
“R-ride me until ya can’t even think, baby-” He’s pleading - begging. Viscous ropes of spit spattering out between his slack maw, he was drooling. Lips trembling, “Ride me- hngh- ride me a-and…choke me.”
Oh, the very second those pretty fingers of yours take Choso’s favorite position around his neck, his proudly globular head racks up a few gauzy wisps of pre. Dangerously creamy. Icing down your walls and making his overstimulated self keen.
Unable to even your sentence, your face hides in the very crook of his neck. Nuzzling against his sweat-simmered skin with how positively heavy your entire body felt. “G-god- feels s-so…”
“Nuh uh.” Choso lets his words drag out into a cute whine, chest hitching purely parched when your digits block off his airway even more snugly. “N-need to see your ngh- pretty face, baby- please- I need you to- need-” Sheer yearning flashes in his eyes when you’re tilting your head towards his fucked-out features once more, “-need you to kiss me.”
You’re giggling out, words airy. “S-so bossy, Cho–”
“Jus’ can’t get ‘nough of you.” He’s mumbling - hot and and heavy against your rawly kissed lips.
And it was a wonder that Choso could manage to strangle it out from his heaving chest, that he could even manage to breathe. Because with one last shuddering smooch of his rotund crown into your g-spot, you’re both tumbling headfirst into your high - Choso’s second orgasm of tonight.
And with every toe-curling flash of white, he’s smearing such streamlined splatters of seed into your melty insides. Hot. Sploshing down your walls and milking velvety rings upon rings around Choso’s hefty base - so viscous that you could almost taste it.
He’s making such a mess, too, giggling at how utterly speechless you were. Shrilling out nothing but mewling calls of his name.
Shit, music to his ears that Choso finds himself hypnotized to. Barely even registering when he’s patting the nudge of his puffy tip against your womb, pushing - just slightly - enough for tumbling dredges of cum to spill down your seeping slit and luster him until he was drenched.
“G-gonna hafta clean the c-car before we get back and ah- announce…” He’s looking up at you with stars in his eyes, so adoring that you could almost cum again from just this. “-our engagement.”
Your words choke up into a rolling ball of lead - an engagement? To your best friend? All the way before dating? And, yet, maybe it’s because your mind is still left in completely stupid shambles from before that you find your lips curling-
THUD! THUD! THUD!
A knock, and Sukuna’s voice through the black-tinted windows.
“OI! Jin is searching for you brats all over the place- SO YOU BETTER BE IN HERE-”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 2 min. 8 secs
“Fuck- fuuuuck would ya look at that cute lil’ bulge.” Sukuna’s chest heaves with rumbling little chuckles that echo against your back, two out of his four beefy arms pinning you so helplessly into his cushiony chest. “Well…heh, not little.”
The notorious king of curses was standing so tall - towering - and his dually rock-hard cocks were just the same. Swabbing open your slickly flooded insides in such a lecherous full nelson, he’s splitting open your glutinous walls with branding, thorough thrusts.
Knocking up against each and every bullseye of magical spots that he’d already memorized. You’re being shovelled with a girthy indent of his upper tip against your mushy cervix, managing out a broken K-Kuna—
“Tch, I know I know-” he’s rolling his eyes, leveraging the sinful uses of gravity below to watch you slip and slide your snug channel languidly down his left-curved shafts. “Ya want more- ‘sn’t that right, spoiled brat?”
But the only thing that thunders in Sukuna’s ears are the melodies of your sweetly singing cunt, slushy squelches of your puffed-up pussy lips slurping up every one of his numerous inches.
And, now, don’t get Sukuna wrong - it’s one of his favorite songs, one of his few weaknesses - but where was your honeyed voice?
“Oi- silly girl- forgot how ta ngh- speak?” You’re hearing from above you, all monstrous seven feet of Sukuna’s figure hunching over just enough for him to snarl hotly against your ear. “How else is the ngh- entire palace gonna know that m’makin’ my wife feel good?”
Punishing your plump clit with a lingering swat! of his thick fingertips, “Not answerin’ your king, huh? Guess I’ll jus’ hafta-”
“Ngh- m-more-”
Oh? That tone sounded familiar.
And now usually Sukuna would growl at you for speaking out of turn, usually he’ll plant a few sodden thwacks against your battered cervix to remind you exactly who you’re dealing with. But right now, he’s only scoffing, “The hell was that? Speak up.”
“More, Kuna—” Fuck, the utterly primal neediness in your voice has even Sukuna stuttering his vicious hips - much to your disappointment. And you’re wrangling in his vice-like grasp to gulp down a few more clingy gyrations of his cocks inside your gluey depths. “More- I n-need more- harder.”
“More?” he’s whispering. Seething. Shaking with a humorless little grin that oh couldn’t have been directed by anyone but you. “More. Heh fuckin’ slut. M-my little human wants more- oh, new record.”
Ah, new record indeed.
It’s been only what? A minute? Two? And here was his beautiful queen, all fucked dumb on his cocks again. So ruined that you could barely even speak, a smooth staccato of only wanting more replaying in your mind when your husband plunges in a capsizing few jackhammers.
You barely even register it when one of his hands tighten on your scalp, overgrown fingernails craning your head uncomfortably up, up, up for him to splatter your tongue dripping wet with a sleazy wad of his saliva. “Yer fuckin’ gone arentcha?”
And he might just be, too, with how pliantly you’re letting that thickened mass slide all the way down your tastebuds. Huffing, “F-fuck- more.”
“Greedy lil’ thing.” He’s puckering up your sodden folds with a slow circles of his fingers, before clashing another good smack! Dragging out velvety ribbons of your honeyed slick that cling to his digits, “Such a filthy pussy, even after- hah- after I can see my bulge in that ah- puny human cunt o’ yours, woman. Ya still want more?”
“B-bulge?” Your head lolls over to rest against one of the curvaceous cushions of Sukuna’s muscular deltoids, glazed eyes drifting all the way down-
Oh.
Fuck- the sight as complete heaven.
Your lips were parting way for Sukuna like butter, slobbering down your sweet sap of juices to him like you were glossing every inch of him. Bludgeoning in his rotund mushroom tip until your ass was bruising against the unruly trail of drenched pink that led to his swollen hilts. And the bulge- shit.
The bulge was rummaging itself to all the way up about halfway down your tummy - edging at your fucking lungs it felt like - was such a perfectly cylindrical outline of Sukuna’s matching cocks. Smearing open your gluttonous walls so widely agape, he’s crashing his smooching tips against your g-spot, your cervix. Both at the same time. Everywhere and anywhere that you could see now.
“Oh-oh-” you’re whining out, lower lip trembling every more frenzied with every glissading dab against those spots. The way that Sukuna had your clingy walls milking him so tight. “S-s’so big, Kuna–”
“Oh? So ya can speak other words.” He’s chuckling, fat fingers pressing a curving little pattern down on your sensitive nub. Pinching. Tugging. So harshly that you can’t help but flail in his hold mid-air. “Easy, easy there, brat. Jus’ thought ya f-forgot how to, heh.”
Oh, he was such a tease.
Such feral darkness oozing into his words when a third of his hands guide your own to caress that lecherous bulge. “Here- don’ be shy- wanna touch it, ngh- dontcha?” And of course, you do. Rubbing over the creamed divots of his outlined tips. In awe. “-yeah like- fuuuck like that- heh…such a cutie when you’re all f-fucked dumb.”
Shit- so utterly adorable that he can’t help but leave another sopping wet smack! on your clit. Another. And another. And another and another until the heat curls up scorchingly in your stomach, and Sukuna’s taking your star-struck moment to snicker, “Mhm– m’feelin’ a little bad for this ngh- p-poor cunt though. Maybe I should take out one cock…”
“No!” You’re crying out, hips trying so ravenously to scoop up every sloshing glob of pre that butters up your insides. And you’re sucking in every inch that you get, every merciless ram. All while boring your eyes into Sukuna’s tearfully, “N-nooo I wan’ it- wan’ them both s-so badly.”
Fuck, you were dangerous.
And the most powerful can’t do a single thing. Because, really, who was he against you?
Can’t do anything but lacquer your drooly tastebuds with another syrupy ball of spit - enough to make you cum.
Sparks of your high sprinting throughout your body, sheening an almost-sparkling wet slobber around Sukuna’s bucking cocks - all the way down to his flexing thighs. It’s thwacking and skidding your jiggling ass against his mounds of muscles even harder, riding out your orgasm on the way that Sukuna’s gifting sopping smacks! on that poor hooded peak of your clit.
Blinking back overstimulated tears, “Kuna–”
“Ah ah- ignorin’ the king when he’s t-talking to ya, cutting me off, cumming with no warning…” he spits hotly against your ear. “I should make ya pay for treason, woman.”
“H-how?” Still so cockdrunken. Still uselessly struggling against his twitchy gyrations, zig-zagging little wet paintings down your inner walls.
Sukuna pretends to think, a sleazy grin plastered permanently on his face. “Hmmm, how about…ya ah- squirt f’me.” All the while boring his devilishly red eyes into your heart-eyed ones. How cute. “If that pretty lil’ empty head remembers how that is, h-heh.”
♡ INO TAKUMA - 11 min. 6 secs
“C-can I cum inside? Again? P-please?” Ino’s hissing - more to himself than anything. Words bubbling out after each and every lazy swat! of his fat, ruddied tip down the very bottom of your pappy wet cervix. He wants more. He need more. “Shhh sh sh- jus’ a lil’ more- please. Just some- ah-”
Shit- it’s been what feels like hours now.
Your beloved boyfriend stuffing you full of ropy smears of cum over and over. Until your slick-filled cunt was flooded with an excess of his seed, until you couldn’t even think over the deafeningly saturated slurps of thick wads oozing out from you down below.
Until you were fucked stupid after only a few greedy hits of Ino’s fattened tip into your melty core - until he was utterly spellbound, too, after about solely ten minutes into this new round.
“T-Taku…” You yelp, throat scratchy with how strained your poor whines have become. Your legs dangle helplessly off his strong shoulders, such a sloppy mating press by now that it would be embarrassed to even be called one. “Baby- harder. Wan’ more…wan’ you to f-fill me up.”
Fuck.
Now, Ino knew that you were thoroughly drowned and cockdrunk - but he didn’t know you were this ruined. And fuck- fuck, he’s giving the side of his fatigued thigh a harsh pinch. Once. Twice.
Trying oh-so-hard to blink back some semblance of thought into his dizzy mind. He feels like he’s nodding drunkenly, planting a damp trail of pecks down your cheek because shit, he missed your mouth. “Oh. Wh-what was that? Ngh- say it again f’me, pretty? P-please–”
“Taku—” you’re whining impatiently. Cloying wet grinds of your hips swirling his thickened length around you so blissfully, sugarcoating thick rings of pre around your insides. “J-jus’ cum inside me again.”
“Sh-shit-” Ino’s pretty features scrunch up in such bliss, plumped-up balls squeezing to dredge out another wispy chain of cum. “Ohh ya have n-no idea what ya do to me.” Decorating your familiarly bruised cervix with a freshly lathered glaze, he’s whimpering. “C-can you say that f’me a-again, sweetness?”
And you’re letting your pouty maw fall slack in order to - to demand for more. A few stupidly mewling sentences on the edge of your tongue when Ino’s reeling his hips back and thudding numerous wet collides into your sloppy cunt. Prespired body glissading easily - so sloppily - against yours in determined smack! smack! smacks! such a tangled mess of limbs and need.
God- it almost hurts. Overstimulation and pleasure hitting him doubly all at once, he’s gritting his teeth with a rough groan of your name before planting more pounds after pounds.
“D-didn’t say it f’me- ngh- ah! again–” Ino’s panting into your dumbstruck-open mouth, sweat-lacquered forehead resting against yours. Pinching his thigh over and over to just keep his senses. And his deep voice cracks into a whine at the very end, “Talk to me. Please, tell me- ngh- t-talk me through it, pretty. Please-”
But his actions spoke the complete opposite.
Ino was clashing the steamy curve of his rotund tip against your g-spot so hard, beating it like a sloppy drum with every jackhammering dab of his hips. Fucking out every thought and gurgling syllable out of you with a pussydrunkenly boyish grin.
Spitting a thick pwah! of saliva onto two of his slender fingers, he’s dipping them down, down, down to roll a few zig-zagging patterns on your pulpy clit.
“C’mon- w-wanna hear your pretty voice—” he’s babbling, pearly tears making their home at the crinkled ends of his delicately pretty eyes.
“T-Taku–” You don’t think you could’ve spoken even if you wanted to, tugging through his smooth woody hair. Until it makes him hiss, and his sultry crownhead gush out wet globules of precum. “No ngh- fair.”
“Heh. Who has ya f-feelin’ like ah- this, sweetness?” He’s snickering into the corner of your mouth, chestnut eyes drooping further and further half-closed the deeper his veiny shaft was poking into the goopy bottom of your pussy. The further he was milking his seething tip on every miniscule cling of your walls. Teasing, “Who? Oh whoops- h-heh- tha’s right…you can’t talk right now.”
But oh, Ino had forgotten that just how fucked stupid that his brain was meant the exact same for his body, too.
Because in a split-second, you’re elbowing the pillowy mattress determinedly to flip the two of you over - Ino’s swollen girth still sunken inside, your brain still woozy. Even more so when straddling the slender curve of your boyfriend’s hips, trembly palms trekking down his mountainous pecs to push him flat onto the silky sheets.
Ino has such a sexy look of drunken adoration in his eyes when you’re bouncing your squelching cunt to ride him out of his mind. Prattling with your currently one-tracked brain, “S-said I wan’ you to f-fill me up, Taku–”
Oh. oh. And then he is - both of you are.
You’re jerking almost-violently at the wracking bouts of high that take over your body, flashing silvery stars behind your scrunched-up lids. Those sobbing thwack! thwack! thwacks! of his bulbous tip have you shrilling, letting Ino reach out a hand to draw little circles over your overwhelmed clit.
And he isn’t any better off - has his eyes sliding all the way back until all you could see was pure ivory, Ino’s chest arching deliciously into yours. His lower lip strawberry-red from being bitten hard enough gulp back those wrenching whimpers threatening to burst pathetically free.
One hand leaving a quick smack! to the fat of your ass before swirling it in hypnotic little circles to feel those ribbony globs of his cum sloshing around. Ah, he can feel it steaming thick masses so deep inside you - jittery fingers feeling for that familiar hot nudge at your womb. Such voluminous amounts that laminate his twitchy shaft with layers upon dripping wet layers of glistening seed, making such a mess-
Ino ends off with a giggle - a giggle. “Oh, I love it when yer r-rough w’me, pretty.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - 25 secs
“-twenty-three…twenty fouuuur-” Gojo’s dragging out, rounded tips of his fingers ghosting over your pulpy clit - just far enough to zap! your sensitive hood with an atomic buzz of jujutsu. Grinning down at you from where he’s holding you captive in a lecherous prone bone, “-twenty-five- h-heh…n’ already gone. New record, sweetheart.”
And you would’ve snapped back at your utterly ecstatic boyfriend if you could, you would’ve huffed out that he totally drawled on the count far longer than it should’ve lasted - but how could you?
Because just the sappy peck! of Gojo’s globular tip down the treacly pucker of your slit makes you dizzy. Meady wet spurts of his precum strolling languidly down your pussy lips, making such a mess - and he’d barely even shovelled you overly snug of his full, thickened tip.
But oh what was unfair - what was so completely dirty - is the way he was buzzing his filthy fingerpads with a shimmer of cursed energy, pinching your sensitive clit just enough to make you see stars.
“Ngh- oh my god.” you’re babbling out through slacked lips that feel like they’re fucking numb. Hips dizzily confused whether to bury yourself in a cocoon of those silken navy sheets or to run away.
“Yes- yes tha’s right–” he’s cooing, one hand swiping away the globular pearls of sweat that trek down your forehead, the other ringing out against your peaked clit with a miry swat! “Talk t’me ngh- l-loove hearin’ what that empty lil’ haaah- cockdrunk mind of yours has ta say.”
Sobbing out, “S’jus’ so- so big, Toru—”
“Heh…see?”
Yeah, he loved the cute wafting nonsense that spilled from your lips whenever you were fucked stupid on his thick, throbbing length. Red and angry to make your head even emptier-
And you’re scrambling helplessly towards the plushy pillows, the edge of the bed, the fucking headboard - only for Gojo to slam! one massive palm down on the mahogany headrest. Splitting it straight down the middle-
Muttering in your ear so sultry, Gojo’s slurring out a stumbling, “Now now- where’d ya think you’re going?” Your entirely shivering body being scooped up with a single curl of his bulging forearm around your throat. Fuck- his sweat-glossed biceps flex as you’re hauled back down, down, down onto his thoroughly rummaging cock.
“B-barely even halfway in n’ yer already so heheh- fucked dumb.” Giggling - giggling - deliriously in your ear in condensed little pants, he’s so hot glissading his weighty body down your back. Rows of ivory white teeth sinking into your precious ear lobe, you’re graced with a firm set of six-inch fingers on your waist. “Get- get ready for a hah- biiiig stretch, sweetheart.”
And a big stretch, it was.
It feels like you’re being rawly split apart - Gojo’s intruding girth caving out a bulging cylindrical pathway down your slobbery pussy. Puffy, crowned cockhead smearing open your gluey walls until you were sure you could feel every ridge, every thumping vein. Feel him poking his weepy divot into your mushy cervix in thick drags - you could cum from just this.
And you think you do - without your poor, spellbound goo of a brain even realizing. Your back arches into an almost painful curvature when you’re throwing your head back and cumming.
“Please- please please-” Garbling out, so fucking cute that he can’t help but lick a sleazy stripe down the glistening middle of your back and hum.
You’re gasping at the thickly vicious splatter of something on your shoulder - only to bleary your heart-filled eyes over your shoulder at the way that Gojo was drooling.
Whining, with every pap! of his prettily full balls against your ass. Slumping his heavy bodyweight like he was melting into your, ridged washboard abs massaging your back, hefty bodyweight pinning you down onto the mattress. His bicep curls into an even tighter headlock around your straining neck, “Yeah- ohoho yeahh that’s the stuff- t-talk to me s’more, my girl.”
“C-can’t even-” You’re whimpering out, hips jostling upwards in embarrassing little grinds that swirl the very rounded tip of Gojo’s tip around your melty insides. Milking out heaps upon heaps of creamy precum with every one of his greedy drives. “-can’t even think- can’t even b-breathe. J-jus’ want you…”
God - he was making a sheerly sludgy mess out of you. Branding your sweet insides with sugary coatings of precum, with thorough bruises.
“What do ya w-want, sweetheart?” Gojo’s muttering all over again, bearing your puffed-up clit with another pinch. Then another. And another. “Anything m’gonna give ya- ahhh, fuck- anything.”
Blinking up tearily, “A-anything?”
Which only makes him fuck you hard enough to practically mesh into one with the mattress - and then some. And it’s like he was pounding himself just as stupid on your cunt as you were with every one of his animalistic rams.
Sodden. Heavy. French mushes against your bruised g-spot - and you could already tell by the scarily bittersweet accuracy and those stray bolts of tiny blue lightning that Gojo was using his six eyes to cheat his way buttering your pretty cunt with lethal hits.
To spy your sweetest spots inside-
“M’gonna marry ya-” Promising over and over when he’s routing a wet trail of kisses down your perfectly arched spine. “-buy us a niiice big mansion- or a small one- your hah- choice. Grow old together, n’ I’ll kill off anyone that dares object.”
“Satoru…”
“Yes- yes?” Sapphire eyes wide and wild now - like he was in the middle of a fight, like he was prowling for prey just the way his fat tip was probing down every orifice of yours. “Tell me- tell me, sweetheart.”
“I-I want-” your lower lip wobbles adorably, and Gojo can’t help but slither his own down and suck like his favorite gummy candy. Making you mewl, “-wan’ a baby.”
And you swear you could hear the lilting crack in Gojo’s voice when he’s echoing out a highly-pitched. “A b-baby?”
The only thing your poor brain can manage out is a nod, and the only thing he can manage out is to just barely not fucking snap.
THUD!
Gojo’s got you locked in his powerful hold - muscled figure pinning you to the soiled bed, his deadlocked bicep hauling your mouth onto his. And he’s snapping his hips to yours so hard that you wince ever-so-slightly at the bruise surely formulating by now - or, well, would have formulated had it not been for Gojo’s reversed curse technique.
Working overtime now to not break a bone when he’s plugging your sodden insides with thick knots of cum. He’s cumming and cumming so hard that Gojo thinks he can’t stop - thinks he doesn’t want to.
“H-how I love when ya talk outta yer ngh- pussy, sweetheart-” Your shoulder stains with a few more translucent spatters of drool - and tears. Big and overstimulated, beading behind his glazed lids.
Gojo can’t let a single swashing wad of his seed drizzle to waste, plugging in numerously overspilling ounces back in through your puckered pussy lips. The sheer volume making his achy balls twitch with more and more. Doubly penetrating your sloppy hole with two fingers, he’s taking the sinful opportunity to slither a few spiralling patterns around your sensitive entrance.
A baby.
“A baby. A…a fuckin’ baby.” Gojo’s shaking his head - crazed. Smile humorless and dangerous where it was directed at you, and for a moment you’re wondering who really is the one fucked stupid right about now. “Oh, my girl, I’ll give you ten.”
A/N. Smooches to that one nonnie for sparking the idea hehe <3
After the life Simon Riley has had, it’s really not surprising that he just can’t get it up anymore. He’s tried, time and time again, but the blood doesn’t pump through him the same way it did. And it isn’t that he doesn’t have a sex drive, god no, one look at you and he wishes he could fuck you into the mattress until your tears stain the pillows and the only sounds falling from your mouth are screams of pleasure.
You walk around the apartment, his big t-shirt on, no panties underneath, and it drives him insane. You’re an entire decade younger than him, young and sexy, and he can’t help but feel guilty for letting you stay with him knowing that he can’t give you what you want in bed.
It doesn’t stop him from eating you out until your clit is puffy and your walls are rubbed raw by his calloused fingers. When his head is between your legs, he tries, he really does. He gets so worked up, grinding his soft cock against the bed, willing it to get hard so he can fuck you right after, but it never does.
All it ends in is you cumming on his face one too many times and him walking out of the room without saying a word in pure humiliation.
You don’t take it to heart, you know he beats himself up for it, saying he isn’t good enough, that you should find someone who can actually give you what you want and keep up with you at that. Every time you reassure him, that he does satisfy you, that he never fails to make you feel good regardless of how he does it, but it seems to go in one ear and out the other.
But tonight, tonight is different and you will find a way to fuck your man.
You lay naked on the bed, legs spread, juices glistening off your folds while Simon hovers above you. His arms cage your head in as he kisses you rough, his tongue sliding over your soft lips, yours entering to explore the expanse of his mouth. He kisses the length of your jaw, down your neck where he licks the salty-sweet skin, bites just hard enough for you to writhe beneath him, and sucks until purple bruises are left to ache in the best way possible.
Before he can lower himself between your legs, you let your fingertips brush just under the waistband of his sweatpants, and his mouth stills against yours.
“Si… just let me try something tonight. I really want to,” you say breathlessly, pulling away from the kiss, gazing up at him with a look that is more of a beg than anything.
He kisses your forehead, moving his hand down to pull yours away, but before he can you reach in deeper, squeezing the base of him and earning a rumbling groan from him instead. His fingers wrap around your wrist, not moving you, just simply holding on like he has to steady himself.
“Lovie, please. Don’t embarrass me now,” he whispers, voice rough and low, wavering ever so slightly when your hand begins to trail further up his limp cock.
You don’t reply, but you do run your thumb against his tip, swiping the precum beading from his slit, evidence of his arousal despite him remaining soft. Lips meeting him again, he’s reluctant, but eventually he finds your rhythm.
Pushing his sweatpants down, you pull his cock out, stroking it gently and your warm, soft palm against him feels like you're touching his raw nerves. Even if he couldn’t get it up, it is still incredibly sensitive from months and months of pent-up need and no sex. Not that you hadn’t tried before, because you have, and every time he gets frustrated.
There’s not much you can say to convince him to try again on the same night.
Nonetheless, you focus on his tip, gliding your thumb under the ridge, rubbing against his slit, and you feel his cock twitch barely in your hand. You pull his body closer to yours, resting his cock on your folds, and he hisses from the sheer pleasure of that alone. Your body heat, your slick, the thought of him touching your aching clit like this has him beyond needy.
“Just slide against me. It’ll feel good, yeah,” you say, nodding your head slowly in encouragement.
His hips roll against you, his cock sliding underneath your palm and through your folds, and he bites back a whimper while shivers run down his spine. Simon can feel his cock hardening, just barely, just enough that he might actually be able to feel your walls wrap around him, so he wastes no time in finding out.
“Please, please,” he says under his breath, begging his body to let him pleasure you in ways he usually can’t, just for tonight if that’s what it takes.
He grabs the base of his cock, positioning at your entrance, and it takes a few tries but his semi-hard tip pushes through your entrance. You gasp softly, the feeling foreign and orgasmic, and your walls clench hard around him. A guttural groan rips from his chest when he begins to rock into you, his eyes meet yours, passion and desire swirling around as his pupils dilate from the sight of you taking him regardless of the conditions.
“You feel so good, Si,” you moan, lifting your hips to give him easier access, glancing down every few seconds to watch the way his impossibly large and yet still soft cock rubs through your walls.
“You feel like a dream,” is all he can get out before his eyes are shutting tight and his fingers are tangling in your hair.
Your body meets his, helping him through it, helping him get to where he needs to be so that just for tonight, he can feel man enough for you. And when he cums deep inside of you, his tip pulsing with long, thick ropes of warm cum, ‘thank you’s’ fall from him repeatedly before he kisses you with a newfound confidence.
“Again Si, don’t stop.”
He doesn’t. He stays rocking inside you, cumming again and again until his cock is too raw, until your pussy is full of his cum, and you feel every last bit of him. When he’s done, he lowers himself between your legs, cleaning his mess and sucking your clit, watching you cry from pleasure, watching you squirm away, but there is nothing he could give you that would ever come close to the feeling of showing him that he is enough for you.
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A/N: since someone had an issue with the fact that i said the reader is a decade younger than simon and "young and sexy" let me clarify that i never specified an age anywhere in the fic lmao the reader could be 24 and simon be 37 the reader could be 35 and simon be 50 for all i care thats for you to decide and that is why i dont specify certain aspects of the reader i simply wanted to emphasize an age gap to make the guilt simon feels more profound simon finds the reader sexy and shes younger than him there is nothing to read in between the lines or imply about that literally at all
Simon and yourself attending a wedding, only for him to take you home right after you’d been dancing. He promised he’d go to the after party with you, but ends up dragging you from the strap of your dress to your bed.
He fucks you deep and hard, wanting to imprint the tunnel of your cunt with the curve of his cock.
He leans down to your ear as he fucks you prone, panting heavy as he murmurs to you, tip of his cock kissing your cervix.
𐔌 cw: pregnancy, children, minor anxiety and birth mentions, breeding and baby fever .ᐟ
there's wood carved dolls gathered in a neat row upon the hallway table, standing atop a delicate lace napkin, shaped as various wild animals your daughter so enjoyed playing with, shaking them eagerly in her tiny fist or attempting to gnaw and slobber all over the polished timber
these toys were the proud result of arthur’s labor, a task during which he had sliced his calloused, already scarred fingertips more than once, collecting numerous splinters that you were forced to pull out. frowning at his carelessness but smiling all the while, after all, how could you possibly fault him for wanting to craft something so beautiful for the baby?
you were brushing away the dust when the front door swung open, heavy boots thudding against the wooden floorboards, arthur stood there. the brown hair at his temples slick with sweat from the sweltering summer heat, collar of white and blue blouse hanging askew at his collarbones, fine hairs dusting sun tanned skin along scars and freckles.
your handsome man, holding a bag packed tight with baby clothes, the very items you had explicitly told him to stop buying since the trunk was already overflowing. the baby was only a few months old, yet here he was again, flinching playfully the moment your voice boomed across the hallway, his aquamarine eyes widening in guilt, plump lips stretched into a crooked, sheepish grin.
“mister morgan! what did i say about stop wasting money?” you pitched out, abandoning the dust cloth on the table as you braced both hands on your hips. the curves remaining striking even beneath the fabric of your dress, pregnancy was not that long ago, leaving behind a soft fullness he couldn't tear his eyes away from, not even if he were facing a scaffold.
setting the bag against the wall, arthur began to step toward you with an agonizing slowness, a predator by nature, gait loose and hips swaying as his hands outstretched. wrapping those corded, muscular forearms securely around your waist, large palms flattened against your plush ass without a shred of modesty.
face breaking into a wide, cat like grin, leaning in to press a slow peck to your scowling lips and let out a low, content purr, his dense eyebrows arching in amusement.
“guilty, darlin, aah'm so guilty.. just couldn't hold back, but she would need 'em anyways, ain't she?” he whispered against your earlobe, pressing a wet kiss against warm skin there. you leaned into his frame, rolling your eyes even as you nodded in agreement, because yes, she would, even if you already possessed enough garments to clothe the entire neighborhood.
arthur smelled of pine wood, heat, and honest sweat, with an underlying trace of something spicy. his beard feelt coarse and rough as you nuzzled the old scar on his chin, swatting playfully at his side the moment you felt his broad palms knead into your ass. a raspy laugh escaping him, brawny chest rumbling pleasantly against your own bosom.
as without another word, he began to guide you backward, away from the mundane chores and toward the sofa standing in the center of the living room. and you knew, by the sharp gleam in his squinting eyes, that you wouldn't be getting any work done anytime soon.
ever since the day you told him of the pregnancy, your palm cupped protectively around your womb, mind resolute that this child would see the world's light and hear the birds' song, arthur had been anxious. possessed by restless need to dote on you, he rarely left your side, pressing his chapped lips against your belly to whisper sweet nothings while you napped.
as you lay with heavy lids, fingers carding idly through the hair at his nape, knowing with absolute certainty that he was a man who would keep you and your child safe. and so it was, there were no more robberies, no more dangerous schemes from which one might not escape alive.
there was only honest, grueling work that he was healthy enough to endure. he delivered packages, unloaded crates of fresh produce at the general store, and helped repair everything around town from broken pens to heavy wagons, fetching whatever was ordered or crafting it with his own two hands.
refusing to let his child grow up without a proper, present father, a stark contrast to his own young years. the memory which haunted him still, as he stood watching your daughter sleep peacefully in the crib he had built for her from scratch, scars silvering on his palms.
arthur had been arguing with you for the simple reason that you worked far too much around the house, cleaning, cooking, and even trying to tend to the garden beneath the blistering sun while your body was still so weakened. his lips pressed into a thin line, arms crossed over his chest, sinews bulging as he watched you work.
he never told you that he still remembered the terrifying way you had screamed during labor, or how your skin had gone cold and clammy. yet, every single time, he would reach out to pull you tight against his side and plead “darlin', jus'... lemme do it instead, alright?” until you would eventually sigh and nod.
tugging him down into a kiss with your fingers twisted firmly into his belt loops, waiting for his stubbornness to melt until his shoulders sagged and his broad back bent to your will. you showered every mole on his chiseled face with kisses, giggling aloud when he scooped you up.
utterly unbothered by the rich soil from your hands and skirt that stained his own clothes. the quiet bubble shattered when your daughter began to babble demandingly from the open window of her room. not letting you turn around without another shared kiss, his mouth far more demanding this time, bruising and deep. leaving your lips swollen and heat pooling lower than your belly.
he held her close to his chest, having changed into a fresh brown shirt that smelled like clean laundry rather than the grime of hard labor, her wispy hair was the same rich brown as his own, sweet with the scent of milk. eyes wide and a pale, powder blue, yet to deepen with age, though she was bound to grow into a startlingly beautiful girl if she inherited arthur’s exact coloration.
she murmured softly in her sleep, clenching tiny fists, and he smiled down at her with a serenity you had never before seen upon his face. every harsh line of his features had softened, the very hands that could master not only a man but a bear now cradled her body as though she were the finest porcelain.
so impossibly small in comparison to her father as he lulled her back to sleep with gentle swaying and low, gravelly croons. arthur always insisted on putting her to bed, not merely to grant you a moment’s rest, but because he simply could not get enough of holding her.
whispering to her, counting down the days and months until she reached her first year. she was his little sugar, and watching them from the armchair in the corner, your gaze made him flush a deep crimson, climbing hurriedly from chest to hairline, still too proud to admit how tender parenthood had made him.
there were always flowers upon the dining table, their stems stretching tall from a glass vase while a few loose, purple petals drifted down to catch upon the wooden floor. arthur brought a fresh bouquet every couple of days, and there had never been a day where he failed to do so, purring flirtatious “pretty flowers fo' pretty missy”
the flower selling ladies in town recognized his face without looking twice, eagerly telling him about the newly gathered blossoms they knew his wife would adore. surely you did, bending to inhale their fragrance as you set the dinner on the table, tilting your head just so as arthur approached to place the salad down.
one large hand wrapped around your waist, giving a tender squeeze before he pressed a smiling kiss to your temple. you swayed back into his solid embrace, never doubting that he would ever let you fall. and once dinner was finished and the baby was tucked safely into her crib, he refused to let you touch the dirty dishes.
whisking you away toward the bedroom instead, his teeth nibbling at your shoulder blade playfully along the way, palms cupping the warm weight of your breasts, fingertips grazing the underside curve, and you sagged into the feeling.
arthur is a devoted man, carrying your sighs and the very taste upon his own lips as he traced a path from your toes up to your pleading mouth. pressing countless heavy kisses along your skin, marks destined to fade into long lasting bruises and teeth indents, leaving your flesh tingling and sensitive as you squirmed beneath him.
you shook when his rough beard chafed the inside of your thighs, legs parted and draped over his flexing shoulders. calloused fingertips sinking deep into your malleable flesh, thumbing up and down in agonizingly slow, small circles while his crooked nose dragged down your wet, puffy folds.
sucking down at your clit with a lewd pop, rolling the swollen nub against his curling tongue until you drenched his jaw, the moisture gleaming brilliantly under the lamp's amber glow. your fingers weaving frantically through his hair, clutching and mussing the strands, a few tresses falling across his intensely furrowed forehead.
eyes hidden beneath the fan of long eyelashes, but his pupils were saucer wide, brimming with adoration and filth he chooses not to say aloud. whispering them against the soft skin of your belly, lips ghosting reverently, tracing every silver line of the stretch marks that had not yet faded, teeth plowing across sensitive places.
“wanna have more with ya.. fill the house with babies, would build another one if needed..” he pleads, swears on a rumbly moan, kissing each your knuckle while his throbbing cock stuffs inside you, soaking in rivulets of your flowing slick, dragging through gummy walls with ease.
reaching so deeply everytime, fluttering pussy slicking further, dripping everywhere, hole clenching in pulsing waves. voice breaking into a barely stifled moan, quickly tamed into barely a garbled hum against arthur's kiss swollen lips. eyes glazed wet, shimmering with clear tears gathered at the corners, as you look into his irises.
blue and green turned turbulent, his broad hips snapping forward, angled to elicit more erotic sounds, see how your eyes roll and fingers clench into his scarred biceps. thumbing peaky nipple until it dribbles milk, running down the digit that he suckles into his mouth, humming with a canine grin.
skin slapping with squelch, your fingernails digging deep, leaving thin scarlet lines across the broad expanse of his pecs, where a solid layer of fat covered dense muscles beneath. arthur's hairy abdomen flexing, every slow, plunging thrust making your legs tremble, roughhewn thumbs digging into your hipbones.
bed frame groaning and creaking, and you only hoped the baby would not wake, as he rearranged your pussy anew, thrusts faltering to sloppy and uncoordinated humping, scalding pressure scrabbling it's claws in your belly, and you begged, voice cracking “yes — please. . fill me up, arthur”
it takes one bottoming out thrust, your pussy clamped down vice tight around his jerking, gorged girth. tip spilling jets of cum after hitting your sweet spot, cumming alongside him, spine arched sharp as slick mixed with other fluids, frothing out in clear milky globs.
his heart rate kicked up, thumping against your chest. calloused palms cupping your warm cheekbones as you melted back into the sheets, surrendering to the slow path of his lips as they traveled across your face. your arms looping around his neck, fingers gliding over the bumpy geometry of his old scars.
urging him even closer until you were clinging to him with every ounce of your strength, a raspy laugh escaping him, large hands snaking beneath your damp back, cradling your frame to hold you tight against his heaving chest.
𑣲⋆˙ olderboyfriend!toji taking his girlfriend's virginity. mlist.
cw: smut, piv, pwp, corruption kink, established relationship, slight age gap (early 20s + late 20s), size difference.
you whine gently as toji's thick digits slide in and out of your weeping pussy, his fingers so much thicker than your own, a shiver running down your spine at the thought of him soon trying to fit his fat cock inside you. throat releasing another moan, your legs spasm gently from your spot on toji's bed, laying on your back, while the hand not buried between your legs rests on your tummy, occasionally squeezing your hips and waist.
"mmph... toji!" he's undressed, cock resting against your thigh, tip flushed red, veins bulging as he gently and deeply plunges his fingers in and out of you. "god, so tight, princess. d'ya think you'll be able to take all 'o me?" you're only able to nod, a mewl slipping out of your pretty, kiss-swollen lips as toji's fingers rub against your g-spot.
"yeahhh, that's a good girl. i think you're ready, angel." he slips his fingers out gently, your hips chasing the loss of pleasure. his fingers find his mouth, the scar next to his lip stretching as he sucks them clean. you nod at him. "m'ready... want your cock." hearing those words leave you runs a thrill through toji - the fact that's he's gonna be your first, the first to be inside you, make you his - no one could take that away from him.
"tsk, dirty girl. want me so badly, huh? you sure you can take it?" he speaks while resting his cock on your soft tummy, seeing just how deep it's gonna go, how much it'll stretch out your insides, the tip going past your belly button. your thighs clench at his words. "mhm. i can take all of it 'ji." a little gasp leaves your lips, biting your lower one as you feel his dick tap against your clit, his other hand pushing one of your thighs back. "jesus, you're so tiny."
his cock pushes against your entrance, and his hand leaves his dick to hold your cheek. "this might burn a bit, princess. breathe with me, mmk?" you nod, holding his hand against your face as he slowlyyyy pushes past the first ring of muscle, into your tight, gummy walls, a drawn-out groan leaving him. "ohhh- fuck. so fuckin' tight. gorgeous little virgin pussy."
"ahh- mm, 'ji!" your breathing quickens, but you slowly relax as his thumb strokes your cheek, pussy getting soaked at his words, welcoming him in. "feels s'good, toji. are you all the way in? feels full..." toji gives a weak laugh at your words. "angel, i'm about two inches in." your eyes widen. "wha? oh. you can go in more- ngh!" he pushes in another two, before pushing in the last 4 in one slow, gradual push, his heavy balls resting against your ass. you gasp. "s'full... hngh..." toji's hand leaves your pretty face to pushing your other thigh up, groaning as you clench around him uncontrollably.
"so fuckin' pretty. doin' so good f'me. god, you feel like heaven." you urge him to move, your breathe being stolen by the deep thrust he gives you, a moan tearing out of your throat. "tojiii- oh, feels s'good!" he grunts again, laying down to bury his face in your neck as he whispers in your ear against your whines and whimpers. "am i doin' okay? this feel good?" you nod, "so good, toji. feels so..." you trail off, brain fuzzy with pleasure. toji chuckles. "already cockdrunk, huh?" you just nod, wrapping your legs around his waist.
"tojiiiii-" your pussy was clenching around him rapidly, eyes rolling into the back of your head, your speech slurred. "you close, angel? m'gonna cum too. i'll pull out, sweetheart, don't sweat it." you nod, okay with anything at this point. "c-cummin- m'cummin-" you whine, high pitched as your pussy clings around his thick cock, feeling almost split open as you spasm around him. he groans, gently pulling out last minute to cum all over your stomach. what a sight to see.
your thighs, shaky, eyes glassy and spaced out, hair a mess, strewn across his pillow like a real life angel, pretty tummy covered in his cum, pussy dribbling out your own. only one word leaving your mouth, "toji." he immediately cups your face with both hands, leaning down to kiss you. "still w'me, sugar?" you nod. "i love you, 'ji." he smiles, wiping you off with a tissue before rolling you to lay on top of him, covering you with the doona. "i love you too, princess. you need anythin'?" you shake your head, burying closer. "only you."
"can i try it?" he asked, perched right on the edge of the bed.
"try what?"
his eyes trailed down to your chest, lingering on the heavy shape of them under your shirt, then flicked back to your face. "sucking your tits."
"baby, i'm not sure. i'm still leaking and they're crazy sensitive."
"i'll be careful, i promise... just wanna taste it."
before you could even get a word out, he was already moving in, settling right between your legs. his head was level with your chest, tucked between your thighs, taking up all the space. "come on, babe, show me my pretty girls."
you rolled your eyes but pulled up your white top anyway, making him let out a low, gravelly groan. there they were — heavy and swollen, way bigger since the pregnancy, with hard, dark nipples and a little wet spot where the milk was already soaking through.
"damn, baby..." he rasped. "wanted this for so long."
at first, he just swiped his tongue over the wet patch, licking up the drops with slow, teasing circles around the nipple. then his lips suddenly clamped down. he took the whole thing into his mouth, sucking you in almost to the areola.
"tooru!" you yelped, arching your back. "easy!"
but he didn't hear you. he was sucking so hard, pulling the milk out like he'd freaking die if he didn't get every last drop right that second. you felt the rhythmic, heavy tugging and heard him gulping it down, totally obsessed.
he groaned right against your skin, his whole body shaking, and then popped his lips off your nipple with a loud, wet smack.
"so fucking sweet," he breathed out. his lips were all shiny, and his breath scorched your nipple, making it pop even harder. he kept switching between quick licks and sharp, tight tugs, creating this crazy, pulling pressure deep inside.
right then, he noticed milk starting to drip from your other breast, messing up your skin.
"it's goin' to waste," he groaned and moved to the second one even hungrier. he was acting like a total addict — his tongue was darting all over the areola, catching every single drop, and then he clamped down on the nipple, sucking so hard the room filled with wet, messy sounds. he literally buried his face in you, getting white streaks all over his cheeks.
he squeezed both your breasts with his hands, jamming them together so the nipples were side by side. he covered both at once with his mouth, biting and sucking them at the same time.
"mmm-gh!" he felt his mouth fill up instantly with warm milk. he swallowed greedily, almost choking on the taste, and sometimes he'd pull back on purpose, tugging your nipples with his teeth, stretching them out before sucking back in.
you clawed at his white hair, gasping for air. "too... nngh... it's too much! ah-mmm! tooru!"
he pulled away for a sec, and in the dim light, you saw a thin, sticky string of spit and milk stretching between his lips and your bright red nipple.
"shhh, baby." he nipped the hard tip with his teeth right away, making you yelp.
his hips moved on their own. sitting between your legs, he started rubbing his hard cock against the mattress, back and forth, groaning low. he went back to your chest, tossing his head side to side without letting go of the nipple. "mmm-ffh... want more milk... give me more baby," he mumbled. his chin was literally soaked, drops dripping down his neck and ruining his clothes. then he looked up at you with those huge, clouded-over doe eyes.
note. dk how to feel abt this lol…. art by naomiiocha
after having your baby, your body changed drastically. especially in your breasts. they were all swell and full of milk now. causing stained clothes and discomfort.
satoru became more attentive then he’s ever been. always making sure that you and the baby are okay. but one day, when you and satoru were together, milk started to leak through the front of your dress…
and that awakened something deep inside of him.
he didn’t know what came over him. whenever he’d catch you breastfeeding your son, this weird feeling of jealousy would twist in his stomach. it didn’t help how the little guy looked just like him either!
one day, when you were out and asked him to feed the baby, he opened the fridge and stared at it like he struck gold. all of the baby bottles filled with the milk that you pumped out, practically winking at him to have a taste… just one little sip.
so he did. after feeding and burping him, he reached for another bottle absentmindedly. the moment he took a sip of the liquid, his eyes widened.
the flavor was immaculate, he never tasted anything like this before. it was so creamy and sweet—but not sickly sweet. it was pretty mild. honestly, it might’ve been one of the best things he’d ever had.
it might even be better than the kikufuku mochi he was always obsessed with.
before he knew it, the bottle was empty. he dragged his tongue over his lips, catching the last bit with no shame whatsoever. not only did it taste good, but it came from from your body? his wife’s bodily fluids?! it aroused him so much…
after that, bottles started disappearing. you noticed it pretty quickly. each time you checked the fridge, there was less and less. the baby was pissed too! making everything more weird. eventually, you asked satoru if he had any idea what’s been happening to them, and all he did was shrug. “i don’t know, baby. maybe we’re overfeeding him?”
one night, after the baby had finally fallen asleep, you stayed up. complaining about how your breasts were too full and achy. they needed to be drained.
to satoru, this was the perfect opportunity. he offered to help you drain some of it out. and of course, as his wife, you were more than welcome to have your husband take care of you.
but what you didn’t know was that you were making his peculiar fantasies finally come to life…
“mm—toru..! don’t suck too hard. that hurts..” you muttered. currently, your beloved husband was too busy. his soft lips cupped around one of your nipples while his hands fondled both your breasts.
“sorry, baby. can’t help it,” he said, voice muffled. “tastes sooo good. like honey nut cheerios… and almond,” he was in absolute bliss and his dick wasn’t even inside you. tasting it from the bottle was one thing, but sucking it straight out of your fat tits? now that was a whole new experience.
his white lashes fluttered, tongue swirling around the sensitive nub. the stimulation made more milk to spew out into his mouth. he moaned lowly when the liquid hit his tongue.
you mewled softly as he continued to massage your sore breasts, milk seeping between his fingers. your hand rested on your his head, scratching his scalp gently. he kept squeezing you, forcing more and more milk to spray out. he lapped it all up like a little kitten, some of it even dripping down his chin.
“fuck, toru. you’re so disgustinggg…” you moaned, looking at him with half-lidded eyes.
he laughed breathlessly. “only for you,” he cooed. he began to tease your nipples by pinching them and giving them light flicks with his tongue. he rubbed the leaked milk around your areola with his fingers before licking it off with a long stripe. the relief was euphoric. you bit your lip, and your pussy that was already soaked gushed more slick.
he put both nipples in his drooling mouth and squeezed your breasts roughly together, encouraging more of the rich sweetness out of you for him to greedily drink down. “mmph.. so fucking sweet… my sweet girl,” he groaned.
“o-ohhh..! s-satoruuu,” you whined underneath him. shuddering as you felt his dick rub up and down your clothed folds. basically dry humping you.
“shhh… m’ right here. just let daddy take care of you, kay? m’ almost done,” he murmured against your skin. a whimper fell out of your trembling lips. he continued his ministrations until he worked all the firmness from your tits, leaving them soft and doughy as they should be.
when he was done, he let go of your nipples with a small pop! “feels better, hm?” he asked, bringing his wet fingers to his mouth, sucking the sticky liquid off.
“mhmm, yes… t-thank you,” you said shyly, still trembling. slick puddling in your panties from how good he treated you. he let out a low chuckle and leaned in, giving you a soft kiss. you could taste the nectarous liquid on his tongue when he slipped it past your lips.
“we should start doing this more often… oh, honey,” he started, looking at the ginormous damp spot between your thighs. there’s no way that he’s going to sleep without fucking you now. “guess i have something else to help you with.”
@chosayi 2026 ( ummm… would you say that you are… kinky?? )
warnings. mdni. gojo accidentally puts u in a mating press during a playfight, dry huming + cumming in pants.
Satoru Gojo is built like a fucking tank and it’s no exaggeration—broad-shouldered, firm, and heavy. Built with a density that makes the air around him feel thin. It’s most obvious when he’s fresh from the gym, black compression shirt stretched over his frame, tracing the hard line of his chest and the way his biceps coil with the slightest twitch of his fingers.
It’s why you keep baiting him into these meaningless little skirmishes—soft provocations just to feel the sheer, overwhelming force of him. To let him catch your wrists and remind you exactly how easily he can fold you into the floor.
Your lungs burn already. You’re shoving, palms flat against the unyielding fabric of his shirt, straining until your muscles shake. But it’s useless. There’s a pronounced imbalance in physical strength, not that you’re complaining (obviously), but he could at least pretend there isn’t and budge a little, for the sake of your dignity.
“Shit, ‘toru,” you grunt, the words squeezed out of your chest. “How much… do you even weigh? Feels like im trying to push a fuckin’ sumo wrestler off me or some shit.”
He lets out a huff of a laugh then looks down at you with a lazy smirk. His chest’s rising and falling in a steady rhythm that mocks your ragged gasps. You’re throwing your entire weight into him, and it barely registers as a nuisance.
“Baby are you serious? A sumo wrestler? That’s harsh, I’m definitely more aerodynamic than that.” he murmurs, playfully whilst continuing to watch you struggle against his solid frame with a look of secret amusement. “C’mon. Put your back into it, I’m barely even trying y’know?”
He sounds too pleased with himself. Your brows pinch together, jaw tightening as your teeth grind in contained irritation. This was your idea, but your competitive streak is now insisting this was, in fact, a bad idea. Frankly, it’s the tone you can’t stand, speaks like he’s graciously humoring a toddler. You want to hurt him. Or, failing that, at least remind him that gravity is supposed to apply to him, too.
So, you move. You hook your arms around him, your legs following suit as you try to wrench the momentum and roll him. For a split second, he shifts—and there is hope—then his hand, massive and quick, snaps around your ankles mid-air and hope is fleeting.
He forces your legs up and back, folding you like a pretzel until your heels are practically tucked behind your ears. It’s a position you’ve been put in many times, but not outside of the bedroom. It makes your skin crawl with heat. You’re exposed, crotch pressed into his. Your tight athletic shorts cling to your puffy folds and offer zero protection from the pressure of him.
“Okay, Satoru, what the fuck?” you choke out, blood rushing to your head.
“Shit reflex,” he laughs, sending a vibration through your trapped body. His crystalline eyes are dark, tracing the way you’re pinned underneath him. “My bad, baby.”
“You’re a dick. Let go.”
Naturally, he ignores you entirely and does the opposite with an infuriating grin that has him looking way too attractive for someone being this much of a prick.
“How about in a couple seconds, hm?”, His grip on you tightens and he hitches his hips forward, growing cock rubbing right against your clothed-cunt, “She feels soft. Haven’t rubbed up on her like this in a while, miss it.”
You look up and his white hair’s disheveled from and there’s a deep flush on the tips of his ears. He’s so pretty. It sucks how that face lets him get away with being such a degenerate.
“Fine,” you breathe out, the word caught in your throat. “Just make it quick. My legs are gonna cramp if you keep me locked like this.”
You don’t need to tell him twice ‘cuz he’s already humping into your pussy like an animal in heat. His sweats are thick, but they do nothing to hide the rock-hard length of him. Each time he drives his hips home, he’s grazing your clit through the dampening layers. He’s got your pretty pussy leaking like a broken faucet—slick patch spreading on the fabric. Each blunt shove against your folds drags a broken, messy string of moans out of you that you can't even try to swallow.
“Shit, feels so good,” he groans into your ear, body getting heavier, slumping on top of you, “we…fuck—we should play fight more often. Yeah? How’s that sound?”
He presses his mouth against yours, tasting like fruity flavored gum and sweets. You’re swallowing his moans, your own breath hitching as he keeps up his bruising pace. Then one final, harsh shove and he goes rigid. His eyes go semi-wide, pupils blown out and unfocused, fixed on nothing as his brain shorts out. Before you realize there’s already a heavy dampness flooding the space between you, white stringy liquid soaking through the fabric of his sweats and bleeding right into your own clothes.
He doesn't move for a long minute, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Then, slowly, he lifts his head and lets out a long exhale, his chests heaving and his signature smirk replaced by a look of daze.
"Well," he rasps, a lazy, lopsided grin slowly pulling at his mouth. "Think I’ll give you the win on that one. Though, you're a mess, babe. Completely soaked."
He pulls back just an inch, cartoonishly blue eyes tracking the damp mess of your shorts, "Pretty sure you're gonna need a shower to get all that off you.” He pauses, smiling at you cat-like, “Want to go see if I can fit in there with you? I promise to help with the hard-to-reach spots."
+ another dry humping post act shocked. ty sichee 4 proofreading @ouist
choso is a perv... still ended up in your bed tho .ᐟ mdni 18+
𝜗𝜚 cw: dom!reader, sub!choso, fem!reader, roommate!choso, riding, choking, kind of a pain kink, panty-stealing, teasing, edging (kinda), mentions of weed, cervix kissing, pervy!choso, biting, sadist!reader?, masochist!choso??, he whimpers n he begs (as he should), slightly oral fixation!choso???
𝜗𝜚 wc: 1.2k
if choso had known that stealing your panties would eventually have him propped up against your headboard with your soft thighs caging his sturdy hips and your tits bouncing heavy in his face– he would have gotten caught way sooner.
“ngh– fuck,” choso’s voice breaks around a whimper, his brows furrowed together and sweat beading down his temple as you bounce yourself fucking stupid on his cock. you should be mad at him right now; your roommate had been stealing your favourite pairs of panties for months and you’re rewarding him by fucking him?
but christ, who knew such a meek and pervy guy who smokes weed next to the bathroom window was hiding not only an insane sleeper build, but a monster cock embellished with veins and a mushroomy tip that was bullying your cervix with every bounce.
“nnh— what did you do with them, cho?” you purr, dragging your thumb across choso’s bottom lip, your other hand planted firmly on his unfairly chiselled abs. his abs tense under your touch, his core fighting for movement but alas, he lost that privilege the moment you caught him fisting his cock with your latest pair of missing panties– and in your bed. said panties are wrapped tight around his wrists behind his head, lightly damp with his own pre and sweat and making his biceps bulge so deliciously.
oh how you want to sink your teeth into them…
“p-please–” he begs, drool collecting at the side of his mouth as you rolled your hips into his, a deep satisfied sigh pouring from your lips as the blunt head of his cock nudged against that spot inside you that made your tummy drop n’ your poor clit rubs against the coarse happy trail at the base of choso’s dick.
“c’mon, baby… don’t be shy on me now,” you tease, pressing your thumb against his bottom lip until he shyly parts his lips, eyes droopy with lust and need as you press the pad of your thumb to his tongue.
“m’sorry—“ saliva drips down his chin as you press your thumb against his tongue, the wet muscle fighting against the pressure, lips loose around your thumb.
“s’messy, cho,” you coo, your free hand scraping your nails up his chest, his body shivering with the mix of pain and the mindfucking pleasure of your pretty pussy wrapped snug around his aching cock.
he’s so rock hard it’s fucking painful— and you’re teasing him. and he’s letting you because he would rather let you fuck him until he was shooting blanks, than go back to jerking himself off with your panties choking the base of his reddened cock, or humping his mattress with his face pressed into the shirt you’d worn to the gym the day before, or having to excuse himself to rub one out over his sweats when you asked if your outfit looked cute for your night out with your girls.
he’d let you do fucking anything to him right now.
your pretty manicured hand wraps around the base of his throat, finger and thumb squeeeezing the muscles on either side.
your thighs tense as you lift yourself almost aalllll the way off his cock before dropping back down. you bounce and roll your hips, the wet bap! bap! of your ass meeting his thighs forcing choso’s hips to buck, wanting to fuck his mushroomy tip further into your cunt, as if he could bully past your already bruised cervix.
your teeth sink into your bottom lip, biting back a loud moan because he’s so stupidly big and has no earthly idea.
his fucked-out gaze draaaags down your pretty tits and the expanse of your soft tummy before settling on the translucent ring of cum that settles around the base of his cock, watching as your greedy pussylips swallow his length n’ your slick drips down his tight balls and pools against your pale bedsheets.
choso’s lips pull off your thumb, head thrown back and hitting your wall with a quiet thud because if he keeps watching, he’s gonna fucking cum, “ngh, f-fuck—“
“you like that, hm?” you sigh around a moan, feeling his cock twitch inside you.
choso nods mindlessly, humming out an unintelligible noise as you slowly press yourself uuuup n’ dooown on his cock.
“c-can you go f-faster?” the question is a broken whine, his breaths hot and heavy as they fan across your throat. “please–”
choso feels the hand around his throat sneak higher, pressing tighter around his windpipe and forcing his eyes to roll back as you lift your plush hips off his cock just to plummet back down with a mean roll– but it’s still too slow for poor, sweet choso.
he whimpers again, the sound gurgled and forced from the pressure of your hand around his pretty throat.
choso’s eyes glaze with tears, “pleaseplease– i wanna cum–”
he can feel his balls tighten, feel the heat curl in his abdomen only to shy away when you lift your hips, just to fuck yourself with his tip, feeling the swollen tip catch and stretch your throbbing hole.
“ngh, ngh– pleeeaaaase–”
you grin devilishly, pressing your lips to the corner of his eye to kiss away the salty globs. your grip on his throat loosens, but still holding possessively. the corded muscles of his biceps are taut behind his head; tensing and straining with the desperate need to grip you–
riiiiip–
you still your movements and choso’s eyes blow wide.
he ripped your fucking panties.
the remnants of the lacy black fabric hang loose around choso’s red wrists, deep lines indented into his pale skin from pulling and tugging against the delicate elastic.
his pretty puppy eyes, filled with tears, glance up at you, “m’so sorry–”
you tilt your head to the side, a faux pout tugging at your bottom lip, “you wanna touch me that bad, cho?”
you run your hand through his hair, nails scraaaping against his scalp, “but you ruined my favourite panties.”
you feel choso’s cock twitch against your gummy walls, revelling in any type of affection you give him.
perv.
“i’ll make it up t’you,” choso mutters, hands landing very cautiously on your hips.
“oh, you will?” you lean in close, pretty lips brushing the shell of his ear, sending a mean shiver up his spine as your tits press flush against his broad chest.
choso moans against your shoulder, “yesyes– i promise.”
“how’re y’gonna do that, cho?”
you’re teasing him harder now, just fucking with him because he’s too pussydrunk to know what’s good for him.
“i-i’ll be s’good, i promise– i’ll make you feel sooo good, baby, please–” he’ll say anything to get you to bounce on his dick right now.
you grin against the hot skin of his neck, lips brushing down the thick muscle that tenses under your touch, “oh, yeah?”
“yeah– yesyes,” he whimpers, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and fingers curling into the meat of your ass as you nip and bite at the side of his neck.
you pull away, the hand sitting at the base of his throat curling to grab his jaw, fingers squeezing his cheeks and forcing his lips into a cute lil’ pout.
your eyes look him up… n’ down.
“prove it, perv.”
𝜗𝜚 a/n: ...do i like subby men? is that what i've discovered about myself?
𑣲⋆˙ husband!satoru hasn't fucked you in so long... mlist.
cw: smut, piv, porn w/ a lil plot, breeding kink, established marriage.
...and it's not because he doesn't want to, oh no. this man wants nothing more than to bounce you on his cock like no tomorrow.
it's becoming increasingly aware to him that having a five year old daughter means a lot less 'bend over the wife and show her a good time' time.
so when your mother offers to take your daughter for a saturday night sleepover, satoru is over the moon. you both deserve a rest - and a good fuck. all of saturday feels like hell, satoru's cock aching to be inside you. so when you buckle up your little one and watch her grandmother drive her away for the night, he's on you in seconds.
soon enough, you're grinding your soaked panties against his sweats on the couch, clothed cock leaking through his pants, the wet stain and bulge pushing against your puffy clit, the barrier between you two making the both of you so much needier.
"nngh- 'toru!" his hands guide and encourage your grinds, little groans leaving him, in sync with your needy whimpers.
"fuck, baby, missed you s'much. that's my girl - just like that, shit-" you mouth at his neck, whining: "need your cock, need it s'bad, can't cum w'out it-" and once he can't take it, he lifts you up, carrying you bridal style to your shared bedroom before plopping you down on the bed and crawling on top of you, ridding you of your clothes feverishly. before long, he has you sitting naked on his lap, cock prodding your entrance as he rubs mind numbingly slow circles on your clit, your hands in his hair as he mouths at your chest, sucking your tits like he'll die if he stops.
"'toru, p-please, fuck me... ohhh..." his lips around the perky buds of your nipples felt so good, your body so much more sensitive and responsive after not being fucked for at least a month. "so needy for me, gorgeous." he teases you, but doesn't waste any time reaching for his cock between your legs, lining it up with your tight hole before pulling you down by your waist, tears pricking at how big satoru feels inside you.
"jesus christttt. so fucking tight. you can take it, baby." satoru's blue eyes look into yours - or at least, what was open of yours, the feeling of his cock inside you making them roll back into your head - his voice gently praising you as he bounced you himself, marking up your tits and making you whine so loudly.
"that's it, gorgeous, say my name f'me? please? tell the neighbours who's makin' you feel this good." his cheeks are flushed red, hands roaming your waist, your next cry making his cock swell inside you.
"toru! ohh- toru, you are- only you can!" your pace starts to stutter, and satoru makes the move to roll you onto your stomach, pulling your hips toward him, ass up in the air.
your pussy is clenching around the memory of his dick, dripping in slick and satoru's precum. you bury your face in the pillow, drooling all over it. his cock slides excruciatingly slow into you, every vein pushing against your most sensitive spots. "yeah? shit- love this pussy. wan' me to get you pregnant again, huh? wanna give our princess a sibling? god- ngh- sweet little wife- answer me." his hand reaches over to slap your drooling cheek, to which to nod and ramble nonsensically.
"yes! hhm- fuckkkk! wan' your kid, 'toru!! wan' another- get me pregnant- nnghhh, m'gonna cum, shit, gonna cum s'hard!"
"yeah? do it. cum all over my cock."
your throat tears out a guttural moan, back arching as your pussy clenches around his dick, hot liquid spraying out around it, soaking your thighs and his, plus the cotton sheets. "oh, good girl, such a good girl- ngh, shit, gonna fill you up-" his balls tighten, hot, sticky cum painting your walls, excess spilling out and dripping onto your inner thighs. you let out one more moan before collapsing, satoru holding you and helping you lay down, him staying inside you. he kisses the nape of your neck.
"take a rest, gorgeous. gonna need it before we go again. i'm cumming in this sweet pussy till it takes."
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, superhero!JJK men, Venom, slight tentacIes, sIight bréeding, aphrodísiacs, rough s, spítting, chokíng, p sIapping, p talking, manhandIing, HEADLOCKS, matíng presses, enemies-to-Iovers (Geto), handcuffs, pIot, REACTIONS, paparazzi, x-ray vision, super strength, heightened senses, true form!Sukuna, four arms, POWERS, ínappropriate use of powers, making superheroes BREAK, creampíes, cúmpIay, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. Mwahahaha…
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Venom.
“So…let me get this straight-” Temples throbbing—you’re unsure whether that was from just how many times your boyfriend’s had to explain his particular…conundrum to you, or from the conundrum itself.
And Toji sits in front of you with his hands clutched on top of the table- almost in a pleading motion. He looks around warily at the other people in this bustling café - why on Earth he decided to choose such a public place for such a confession was inconceivable to you.
It was a wonder in and of itself when you don’t burst into hysterics, “You were in your lab working on some experiments you should definitely not have been working on-” Shooting him a look that receives you a sheepish grin. “-and ended up getting infected by some…parasite?”
“Symbiote.”
“Right. Symbiote.” You correct tightly, “And this symbiote can talk, think, and even make itself known through you?”
“Ah- pretty much.” Toji shrugs.
“And this symbiote wants to see me why-”
“You’re ovulating.”
The café seems to come to a standstill around you.
Servers, customers, even the new intern that’d been blatantly dozing off at the counter jerks his head up and throws a glance at your table—or more accurately to figure out the utterly inhuman voice that’d erupted from your table.
It was deep. It was gravelly.
It sounded like - in its alien desperation to assimilate to this society - it’d meshed together as many human voices as it could possibly make, and in the end had come up with something that sounded like everything but.
And, of course, that voice had come from your boyfriend of three years.
Toji Fushiguro.
Though he was either ignorant or uncaring - knowing Toji, it was likely both - to the stares that were being thrown his way. He was far too busy fussing around this…symbiote and its separate thoughts and voices, batting around his head as though shooing away a particularly annoying fly. But you’d seen it—fuck, for the briefest second, you’d seen it…the way that this black, murky substance not quite of Earth-like matter had flickered over Toji’s handsome face for a second.
Slime-like skin.
Haunting white eyes.
A long, loooooooong tongue.
You shudder just imagining it.
“Sorry ‘bout that, doll.” Toji grits out- “His name’s Venom and he’s a real pain in the ass.”
You’re barely thinking twice before you utter, “And…how can we fix this?”
Voice nothing more than a whisper. Though perhaps owing to those suddenly-honed senses of his, Toji can hear you perfectly. “According to my hypothesis, there should be one way in which once the symbiote is completely satiated of its more…base needs, then it parts peacefully with the host. But this is still unfounded- besides, I’d never fuckin’ ask you to-”
“I’ll do it.”
Toji pauses.
“Eh?”
And you’re meeting his shocked expression with one of pure steel, “I’ll do it.”
.
.
.
In almost no time, you’re back in Toji’s laboratory and bent over his desk—what had meant to be a trail run- what had meant to be a simple discussion with the symbiote to test Toji’s hypothesis had ended up with the most looooong, lecherous thrusts being pumped into the back of your cunt.
Your thighs clench together, moans echoing out and hitting the four corners of the walls.
Just the simplest plaps! of Toji’s ravenous hips comin’ down onto yours was enough to send your heels skittering- forced to stand up a little straighter. He’s cleanly lifting you off a few inches just with the probin’ thrusts of his cock—and as Toji bottoms out once more, he’s rushing you straight into your nth high of the night.
Peak after peak.
Thrust after thrust.
The seventh round that you were feeling his thick, throbbing cock piston you through—though according to Toji, they were called trials.
Trials during which those waves of bliss shred through your core n’ straight up to your muddled head- one that’s immediately getting bombarded by that same gravely tone from before.
“Mmm, you smell sweeter when you cum.”
You startle, “Wh-what was that?”
“Fucked so stupid you can’t hear? Humans are so interesting…” As you’re tentatively turning your head over your shoulder, you’re seeing that Toji’s figure was suddenly taller…towering…covered in that black, goo-like substance from earlier—his face splits from cheek to cheek with a sharp-toothed smile, and suddenly he’s letting escape the most bone-chilling laugh. “I wonder how much sweeter you shall smell when I plant you with my seed-”
“Okay, that’s enough-” Toji’s struggling to gain dominance of the symbiote- though you still weren’t sure how exactly the system worked. You’d determined that it was a dual rule, of sorts, in which one could ‘fight’ the other for control of the body.
And right now, your boyfriend was the clear winner.
Groaning as he’s winning back control—and with the regaining of his body, he’s bombarded with the sudden sensations of your hot cunt enclosing around his shaft. Sucking. Slurping. Just so thick and throbbing to be even deeper inside you- you’re unsure whether this was just your overstimulated brain talking, but you could’ve sworn that Toji felt even bigger than usual-
“You’re welcome for that, heh.”
You jump, “Wh-what was that?”
“You’re fuckin’ welcome.” The symbiote in Toji’s body utters, and you’re shivering at the sensation of Venom’s looooong lavish tongue dripping down the side of your throat. Licking. “Venom can change shape however we like, we can make ourselves bigger…”
And you can’t fucking give a response to that—you can’t. Because just then that mazin’ tip of Toji’s cock is expanding far beyond what you’re used to.
He’s shovelling in even more inches than you knew he possibly had- he’s thrashing against your cervix and digging in as though he’d probe even deeper if he could- he’s swelling up so much inside your tight walls that it honestly feels as though you’re about to be split down the middle—
“Mmmm, became even sweeter. Heh, you liked that.” Those honed teeth of his graze over your neck, easy enough for him to tear through. “How about curved?”
Immediately bendin’ in such a delicious curve- one that strikes the end of his shaft directly against your g-spot. He doesn’t even have to try.
Your thighs quake as you feel his flared mushroom tip swabbing n’ stirring and messing up your insides with such an extreme shape. Plunging. Prodding around. The degrees of his curvature bent juuuuuust the right amount that it’d hit most of your tender spots-
“Or what about tentacles-”
“Wait-”
“That fuckin’ jerk.” Soon enough, Toji’s interrupting whatever lecherous plan the alien had for you, and instead using his original cock to pinpoint your insides.
Though Venom might have had the ability to change his shape- absolutely nothing could match Toji. Nothing could match the way he’d already memorized the locations of your sweetest bundles of nerves n’ how exactly you liked them stimulated—whether it was the quick, rapid strokes of just his very flared tip, or the achingly long strokes that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Your back arches, and your moans crescendo louder than ever as your boyfriend reaches down to twiddle with your sensitive nub. “Right?”
Attempting to look back at him through your sobs, “Wh-what was that, baby?”
“I said—” Toji seethes out between haaaard strokes of his rugged cock- absolutely vicious. He wasn’t taking his time with you today, he was poundin’ your poor cervix raw with his tunneling tip. “Wasn’t he a fuckin’ jerk? Thinking that he’d be able to fuck my girl…”
“Y-yeah…” You’re acutely aware of the fact that Venom was hearing every single word being said. Likely simmering beneath. Likely attempting to regain control and make you spill the truth-
“Uh-huh?” But Toji was on a roll now. As the words spat between his scarred mouth grow faster, so do the ministrations on your pulsing clit. “Wasn’t he just delusional? Thinking that you’d like that alien cock- heh.”
Pathetically nodding along—unsure whether that was for the question or for just how good it felt. “Yeah, mmmm- fuck.”
“Right? And wasn’t he wrong?”
“Yeah-”
“Wasn’t he useless?”
“Y-yeah…”
“Wasn’t this pussy missin’ me?”
“Fuck, yes.”
And what you’re faced with next wasn’t a question, an insult to Venom, or anything else that you might have expected- it was a sudden spank!
Right on top of your clit.
Right before Toji’s already-elongated cock swivels a few inches deeper than you remember him being able to before. Thicker. Meaner. The top of his shaft was swelling into a fatter circumference, and you swear you can hear the squelches of orifices you’ve never known being opened up—
His sharp canines gnaw down on the shell of your ear, and shivers run down your spine at the guttural tone of his voice. “Then why are you so fuckin’ wet, my little liar?”
“O-oh.”
Shit, he’d known.
He’d been able to hear you, too.
And now you were paying the price: you were feeling Toji’s relentless cadence but with Venom’s ability to bend and prolong his shaft as much as he wanted to. His tendrils of symbiote substance glissade down his cock and stretch out your walls just a bit more—wrapped just around where Toji’s already-massive length was.
And if you thought that that wasn’t enough- you’re damn near losing your mind at the feeling of those fingers twiddlin’ at your clit starting to tingle. Starting to transform.
Before you know it, they feel strangely…tentacle-like. They reminded you of Venom’s own tendrils, though with a sultry suctioning sensation to it that made your body wrack with pleasure- “Oh my god—fuck, Toji, how are you even-”
“You forget that Venom is a part of me now.” He murmurs through a grin, hips only accelerating. Cock only lengthening- fingers only suckling. “And you’re not getting out of this any time soon, doll. At least, not until we have our hypothesis.”
“Shit…”
“Hypothesis schmipothesis. I get to breed her after.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Superman.
“My love…” Just the way that Nanami uttered your sweet, sweet pet name…it was anything but. As though he was a man that’d worshipped every name, statue, and deity in the world—and the only one to answer his wretched prayers was you.
He whispers your name.
Lightning strikes.
Nanami was silhouetted against the tall floor-to-ceiling window of your apartment; his red-clad feet hovering just a few inches off the ground, chest emblazoning the famous ‘S’ of which you could only see the ghost-like outline. Like a faint memory. That long cape of his drapes behind his broad shoulders, flowing in a breezeless wind. His head was bowed. His face utterly expressionless.
Moonlight falls upon him like a knighthood, but something more untoward.
The night was dark and so had been the day of fighting crime—or so you’d assumed. Usually, when your boyfriend arrived home it was with kisses to your cheek and bouquets of flowers.
You had no idea what happened today, but…he doesn’t respond to a single one of your calls. Not a single one of your pleas.
The only thing you can do is take a step forward-
And he jerks as though he’d just been shot by several of the lightning flares outside. A thousand bolts of electricity and even more, more, and more. Even though he had his gaze turned downwards, Nanami doesn’t need to see to sense you-
He already knew.
“My love.” He repeats, as though a broken CD. There was a wisp of something so carnal in his tone, something dark and drenched in…a desire that you couldn’t put your finger on. It was something that made shivers cascade across your body, however. “My love, don’t-”
“Don’t what, Kento?” You’re insisting, even though you fight yourself not to take another step forward as per his wishes. “I need to know what happened, baby.”
“You need to know.” He repeats once more—was he even capable of anything else? You’re starting to grow even more concerned and reconsider your internal pledge when- “I was injured.”
Concern pours over you like a bucket of cold water, “Injured? Where-”
“Not physically.” Nanami spits out through clenched teeth, every syllable difficult for him to enunciate as though coated in glue n’ sticking to the roof of his tongue. In the pale moonlight you could see that his skin was covered in a sort of perspiration - something almost feverish and flushed. “It’s- fuck, I need you to know-”
“Kento, I’m scared for-”
“I need to fuck you.”
And as he finally rushes out the confession, large exhales seep out of him like every bit of his remaining sanity—a weight had been lifted off. But little did he seem to realize that that weight was a keystone for a dam.
And now he felt like he was about to fucking burst-
“Lex Luthor- latest invention—fuck.” Interrupting his own explanation with a rugged groan - not one that was quite pained, but not…not either. “None taken, no casualties.” Something crossed between rage and ecstasy. How very like Nanami to utter of other before himself- “But I was injected with- fuck—”
You take a step forward, “Kento-”
“-aphrodisiac.”
“Oh.” Heart stopping. Without even thinking, you’re taking a quick scan of his figure to make sure that he wasn’t bluffing about no physical wounds, and when all seems clear on his upper half, your eyes can’t help but drop to the area between Nanami’s chiselled legs - and your sweet boyfriend’s Superman outfit had always been particularly flattering on his body, but this—he looked about nine inches straight through his tight latex and throbbing. Aching.
You can speak no longer, and him barely enough- “Stay away.”
Another step. “Kento.”
“Darling, I’m going to ruin you.”
And another. “I don’t mind.”
There isn’t the burst and then the frenzy of lips on lips, skin on skin, as you might’ve expected at first. No, not at all. Your words linger in the bedroom for a few more seconds - tight and tempting, just when you think that the tension in the air is going to stretch so taut that it might never snap—Nanami moves.
Just the slightest action: he stops hovering. Setting his feet down on the windowsill for the first time - and it hits you just then why he hadn’t been touching any bit of your apartment for so long.
Because the moment that Nanami came in contact with any - any - part of you, he was going to go fucking insane. That is, if he didn’t have your pretty pussy to take it out on—in almost no time, you’re finding yourself pressed flat against your king-sized mattress and having your boyfriend’s thickened tip swirlin’ your insides.
He was just so hot and needy.
Perhaps even greater in girth than you remember him - there was a vein down the middle of his length that stood out n’ massaged every inch of your insides. Throb-throb-throbbing away inside of you as the crowned edge of his shaft bottomed out- fuck, he doesn’t even spend the long, sensual hours of foreplay as he usually would.
Nanami merely throws your legs over his half-uniformed shoulder, merely clasps onto one side of your hips, merely tunnels his angry cock in and out—
In and out. In and out. You’re feeling him glide his handsome nosebridge down the column of your throat- stopping just where you were most sensitive, he’s twitchin’ in-between your puffy folds as he takes in your pheromones. Groaning, you swear you feel him grow even bigger inside of you—“My love—”
It’s that absolutely broken tone of his that makes you jerk your head in response. Blinking up tearily at the blond man, “K-Kento?”
His shaggy, golden bangs were curtained over his eyes n’ covering most of his gaze now - and you’re unsure whether you should be thankful or concerned that you couldn’t measure the sheer primal desire in them anymore. It was obscured from you—and all you’re getting revealed of him are the constant grunts whenever his ruddied cockhead hits the back of your pussy, his shivering hips, his mantra of your name. “I need to know…my love, I need to- fuck, are you okay?”
“I am—” Strangely enough, it made your cunt grow even wetter to know that he’s caring so much about you even when he was in the depths of the effects of the aphrodisiac-
His mind was wiped clean of anything but his base needs- and yet, there was always a part of him that knew you were what’s most important. And the superhero reaches one roughened hand down to sweetly cup your face, dragging the tip of his thumb down to wipe away any beads of sweat- “Are you s-sure? I need you to be sure-”
“I am sure, Kento.” Insisting. And though you feel just a little awful for interrupting his well-meaning pleas—you also needed to feel his thick, textured cock hitting eeeeevery single inch of you. And though you’re at his complete and utter mercy, you can’t help but squirm your hips around to swivel more of his solid inches inside. “Please- fuck, I need more of you. Don’t hold back-”
“Fuh-fuuuuuuck—” A zig-zagging vein pops out on his forehead, freckled with sweat. “Don’t say that-”
“But I am saying that.” Wrangling your legs off of his sculptured shoulders- or at least, you’re attempting to. But Nanami only needs to drift a single hand up to keep you pliably in place—he’s locking both ankles behind his neck with one hand, long fingers holding them gently yet sternly. It’s all he needs to halt your restless hips as he hits a sensitive spot and ploughs iiiiiiin.
Thrust after thrust.
Again and again.
Every single one of them locates that cute target of your nerves- instantly, it was almost like magic. That deliciously curved end of his shaft manages to maze his way inside, spreadin’ apart your gluey walls and heading straight for that area—all he has to do is follow the channel of your cunt until he’s led straight to that spot he bashes nicely.
Sloppily.
“Darling, you’re close.”
“I-I am?” Eyes shooting wide open- fuck, he’s right. It takes only one more thrust of his vein-covered cock for you to register the thrills of adrenaline shooting up your spine. You’re arching straight into his chiselled chest, “Oh, shit…I am.”
“My love didn’t know?” Nanami nearly titters. “S’okay…your Kento’s going to fuh-fuck you through it. Your Kento’s going to make you feel so good—ngh.”
And as he utters this, his cadence only grows sloppier.
“May I…” Just so cautious of the way you’re being jostled to n’ fro - of the way you’re nearly hitting the headboard, and the roundness of his balls smack! against your cunt. Nanami has enough clarity to feel almost…sheepish about the way that you’re clearly dumbed down on his cock. His greedy, greedy cock. “May I make you cum- oh, may I go…just a little harder?”
“Kento—” You’re pouting, “I want you to go harder-”
“I-”
“I want you to go the hardest.” And as he’s still half-uniformed, you’re able to reach up and twist your fist in the smooth fabric. Tugging him down, you snarl- “If you want me to cum, Kento, then you better not hold back.”
And Nanami doesn’t answer. He doesn’t utter a single syllable.
He’s merely slowing his hips down and reeling his hips back, back, backwards—he lets the rounded tip of his cock circle your hole for a few seconds. Just the slightest few seconds, before that pulsing length of his shoves deep inside- not even stopping at your g-spot, he’s heading straight for your womb.
That soft, sopping womb of yours- “My love…” Just the last thing you’re hearing before you’re cumming, “My love, it’s going to take now.”
Blabbering, “Wh-what—”
“It’s going to take.”
And a thick, ropey warmth floods you deeeep from your core- spreadin’ into every nook, cranny, and crevice until you’re feeling a little lightheaded. “Did you really mean…” As your voice murmurs out in pure disbelief, those clingy wads of his cum get pinpointed into even the tiniest sweet spots inside of you—places that you weren’t even sure you had. He’s pressing his thickened tip against the sides of your walls and watching as your sweet, sweet juices get sprayed out. “You- you really didn’t mean…”
Nanami utters nothing but a few raspy groans, eyes locked on the forefront of your core as he shovels inside. Inside and inside. “I did.”
There was an intensity in his eyes that you swear you’re feeling against your skin- and you did. It burned. “Did it seriously—”
“It did.” And his round, reddened tip ends up sticking straight against your womb - fucking you through your own high, fucking you through his drivelling wads of seed. A final swat. “It did, my loves.”
And you’re noting the change of your pet name.
Because you already knew what he meant- it had taken. Nanami Kento was using his superhuman sight to peer through you, watching as his cum trickles into the deepest depths of your womb—and his mouth quirks up into a handsome grin as he notes that it’ll be…
A daughter.
.
.
.
“Congratulations”
You gape at the screen.
And a quick glance at Nanami reveals that he was doing the very same- though perhaps in not such an outward manner. As soon as possible, you’re staring right back at the screen that showed a little bean of something your doctor was pointing towards and explaining—something that flows in one ear and out the other.
You were still registering that there was a little bean of something.
You don’t know when - it might be second, it might be minutes, it might be days later - but Nanami speaks. Something silent and barely-there, a breathless whisper as though he was afraid that it’d shatter the mirage shown on screen, “A-and…the…?”
He can’t complete his sentence. Though Dr. Shoko Ieri is a professional, and she picks up on what your husband means quite quickly.
He clasps your hand - newly-minuted gold wedding ring cold against your skin - and waits as she peers at the screen once more. Because he knows this—he knows this. He’s seen this with his superhuman vision.
He’d told you a few months ago just then…
And yet, Nanami’s heart flips.
She smiles warmly at the two of you, “It’s a girl.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Batman.
“It’s you.” Geto chuckles, “Why did I know that it would be you?”
The sound of his low, throaty laugh is enough to send shivers down your spine—-and…perhaps even lower. Though that’s not something you wanted to unpack right about now.
You had to remember where you were: the mansion of Geto Suguru, billionaire, playboy, mysterious down to the core. The mansion had been as expectedly gaudy and gilded as most rich people loved their homes, but what had drawn you to it the most had been the safe room, of course.
And so here you were standing with a couple gold bricks in your bag and a few more to be packed up- that shouldn’t take long, you assume. And with a careless sigh, you’re ignoring the man himself and getting back to loading them back in—“So? Happy to see me?”
“Oh, less than.” Geto replies.
“Don’t lie~” Purring, the skin-tight latex of your suit twinkles underneath the rich yellow lighting as you’re turning back to him. You shoot a flirtatious wink his way, “I know this is going to be the source of your wet dreams for years after.”
“Nightmares, more like.” He hobbles a step closer. It puts you on edge.
“Then how about we keep some distance from our nightmares, hm?” You’re gathering up your large loot—much heavier than an average person would be able to carry, though you’re holding it daintily between your fingers with ease. “I come to rob you, you catch me robbing you, you let me go—it’s a win-win for everybody. I really wouldn’t want to use force…”
“And I wouldn’t want to use force either.” Geto smiles so pleasantly, “I don’t really care about the gold- but there’s a pearl necklace in there that used to belong to my mother. How about you leave that and be on your merry way, hm?”
You pout, “But I liked the pearl necklace.”
And his gaze grows just a little sharper, “I’m afraid that can’t happen, kitty.”
“Oh, I loooove it when you call me that~” Fluttering your lashes at him.
He takes a step closer, “I know your games, Catwoman.”
“And yet you fall for them every time, Batman.”
Did you forget to mention that Geto Suguru - billionaire, playboy, mysterious and also perhaps the most attractive man you’ve ever set your eyes on - was also Batman? Despite that, you still had the most infamous crime-fighting vigilante wrapped around your finger as though he was nothing but a low-grade thief.
And he was trapped in your web now (what was the cat version of that, anyway?)
Leagues below you. He’s biting down on his plush, pretty lip to hold back a whimper as you’re reeling your hips aaaaaall the way back to squeeze his blushin’ tip—holding it there for a few seconds before you give the superhero a good bounce.
Making him throw his head back with a groan- Geto lets out a slew of swears once you’re starting up the sloppiest cadence. Back and forth. “D-don’t get ahead of yourself, kitty…”
“What was that—?” Pretending to gasp, you’re teasingly leaning your body forwards in a mocking attempt to hear him better. “What was that, Bat? I didn’t hear you- was that a stutter I heard?”
“Fuck off-” Spitting between clenched teeth. Geto’s clasping onto either side of your naked hips, using that strength of his you loooooved being manhandled by to roll your hips in figure-eight motions - just drag-drag-dragging the outline of his cock along your sweet insides. You could feel every ridge n’ crevice of his veins decorating your walls, massaging them into something even softer he loved to fuck up into.
The two of you were sitting - barely - on the luxurious armchair he had in his safe room. Creaking and ricketing with age every time that Geto arched his hips backwards and gave you a thorough probe—inside. And though you couldn’t say that you planned to end up here, you didn’t quite deny that you had plans to end up in his master bedroom - why else would you have gotten caught?
The both of you knew that if you’d actually wanted to steal something, then you would’ve been out of this damn mansion hours ago.
Gritting his pearly white canines, Geto crushes your hips further down into his and ruts up into you—“Sh-shit….”
“What was that about stuttering, gorgeous?”
“Fuck off—”
“I’m fucking you, actually.” He spits between clenched teeth, gyrating your hips around so that the cute nub of your clit rubs up against his fuzzy base. It’s such a carnal feeling to have those curls of jet-black massaging where you were most sensitive, getting more n’ more drenched by the second. By the motions of your dripping wet pussy. He’s snarling, “That’s fuckin’ right- wipe that smug look off of your face. I already know what you’re thinking.”
“Oh?” And you’re just barely managing to scrounge up whatever’s left of your sanity together to respond. “And what is that, Monsieur Bat?”
“C’est l’homme chauve-souris.” Geto rolls his amethyst eyes, “And it’s that you think you have me- fuck, underneath your kitty toes.”
“Kinky~”
However, he’s learned not to entertain you with yet another outburst—instead, Geto’s pulling all his energy into inching his hips backwards and planting another thorough thrust deep into the depths of your cunt. So hard that you think he might just have left a mark.
So accomplished in his grin that you think he might’ve been aiming for it
You wouldn’t have been surprised to know that billionaire playboy Geto Suguru liked to let everyone know that he was fucking you- especially you. The hottest cat burglar in all of Gotham.
The same one he’s been infatuated with since the first time he saw you.
But he was fucking you like he hated you.
The sweetest thing he’s doing yet is cascading a hand down your front- left fingertip teasingly pressing your pussylips apart. It doesn’t take him long - not long at all - to find your pretty clit and draw a few circular motions on top of it—watching as you buck and whine straight into his hands.
And the meanest thing he’s done yet is reach his other hand behind you.
Because suddenly you’re feeling something cold and metallic click! into place.
You gasp.
You should’ve known that crime-fighting vigilantes often worked from the shadows; from a darkness of which even your feline eyes cannot piece through. You didn’t have eyes in the back of your head, did you? Although perhaps Batman had a gadget for that, too…
And although you already know that you’re fucked- it’s not until the jingle of handcuffs emanates from behind you that you’re really letting the situation sink in. It’s not that you’re afraid of Geto or anything he could do to you, but…it’s just that you’re afraid of what you might do given this forced proximity.
Something stupid like- like admit your feelings to the ever-elusive hero or something. Disgusting.
On top of that, you’re unable to motion your hips as you were doing so previously. Stuck pathetically grinding back into thrusts that he was already planting onto your cunt, the fatness of his girth sending you to the edge-
You’re whimpering are you can’t do anything you’d usually do like clasp onto his pretty throat or shove your fingers down his mouth. “Sugu…aw, c’mon—”
“Now I’m Sugu?” Geto snickers, “What happened to Bat? Or loser? Or fuck off? Or I never-want-to-see-you-again?”
Fluttering your lashes innocently, “You know I jest.” To no avail, you’re attempting to slip out of those handcuffs as you’d have done with any other normal ones - but you knew better than to underestimate Batman. As you expected, no matter how much you’re squeezing and molding your hands against that metal, it keeps on adjusting to your shape and restraining you. Keeping you hostage. Only one look at him and you already know that Geto’d spent a fortune creating these…perhaps just for you. “C’mon, baby, let me out of these~”
“No can do, kitty.” He chuckles. And the audacity of this man- he’s straying his right hand down your spine and groping your ass—“Next time we’re keeping the suit on because I wanna pull your tail.”
You scoff.
And he raises one dark brow. Thumb pressing down even harder on your clit, “What was that?”
“N-nothing…” You whimper, entire body wracking with shivers. It’s a few more sloppy thrusts before you can thrust yourself to speak without your voice cracking again—you didn’t want to give more ammunition for his entertainment. “Oh, Geto Suguru, when I get out of these handcuffs I’m going to fucking-”
“Kill me?” He smirks, “We can see you try.”
“You think I can’t?”
Geto shakes his head. “No, I expect it. Just make sure you kiss me first.”
And you can’t deny - neither to yourself or him - that that’s leaving you even wetter than you’d anticipated. The sheen of your arousal dripping through his dark happy trail, leading down to that perfectly chiselled six-pack of his.
He merely cracks a grin and plants his right hand on one side of your waist—drilling into you even harder than before.
“You know I love you, Bat.” You’re grumbling out almost reluctantly past the clogged mess of whines and moans and tears in your throat.
“Mmm, love you, too, kitty.”
.
.
.
“Mister Geto, I have collected those crime reports that you requested me to-” Miguel’s deep tone halts immediately at the sight before him. He’s standing by the edge of Geto Suguru’s sprawling master bedroom - the subject of countless features in architectural magazines, and the dreams of high-society alike - eyes widening at the dual figures of you and his employer, bundled up and clearly unclothed beneath the covers.
Clinging onto one another.
The crime-fighting vigilante and his criminal lover.
Though it wasn’t necessarily a secret around these parts that no matter how many women and men Geto Suguru meets, there will always be a certain cat-eared crime-lover he goes back to…Geto himself wouldn’t appreciate it if such word spread now, would he? This wasn’t the first time he’d crawled right back to you and this won’t be the last- hold on.
Were his sunglasses deceiving him or was his cold, uptight employer actually smiling in his sleep? Heavens above, this might just be the last time.
This might just.
Miguel settles for the thought that he’d tease the billionaire about it over dinner—very, very late dinner by the looks of it.
He leaves the report on the nearest desk - of which there were many, because this is Geto Suguru that we’re speaking about - and heads towards the door.
Taking one last peak.
Yeah, this might just be the last time. He trusts his intuition, that he’ll be walking into this scene more often than not in the coming years.
Yeah, this might just be for good.
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Nightwing.
“Who knew that the Nightwing…” You’re purring—smiling like the cat that’s got the cream - or more like the hero that’s just caught her rival. “-sex symbol of Gotham, hottest man of the year, wanted by men and women and everyone in-between…”
And Choso merely bucks weakly beneath you - his hips stutterin’ with every single fucking milimeter that he’s shovelling inside of you.
Choso was red and furiously hot between your legs—thick. Throbbing even harder as he feels his ruddied, red tip scrape the bottom of your pussy; his fat cock twitches there a few times as he registers the soft, spongy platform he was feeling—this was…Those beautiful, brown eyes of his widen as it sinks in. Gasping. Shaking.
And it takes merely two - two - seconds of being stuffed inside you for the famed hero to throw his head back and cum.
And you’re finally finishing your sentence, “-a virgin.”
How had this all happened? How did you end up here?
You could blame it all on the spiked punch, you could blame it all on the lavish ceremony - the highs and lows of the red carpet, ah, they always did tend to make you feel a little more reckless than usual—what’s that saying about all publicity is good publicity? Or perhaps it was the fault of the Hero Awards altogether.
Gathered here with the most elite of the elite, the best heroes from around the world; where they patted one another on their backs and paraded in designer. Reporters starved for the attention of the saviours as much as any competent villain.
Though you couldn’t say too much about them - you yourself were here, too.
But you told yourself that you were here solely for one award—and one award only. All those about best costume, best comeback during a fight, best fancam, best fistfight didn’t matter (though that wasn’t to say that you weren’t grateful, it’d been sweeping wins for all of which you’d teared up).
You were here for Best Hero of the Year.
The best.
The strongest.
The most battle-savvy.
The most competent.
The best of the best.
Once that nomination letter had arrived, you’d held it to your chest - in pure disbelief - for a long hour afterwards. It was an honor to be nominated—the greatest honor.
To win this award a panel of seasoned heroes would tally up all of your fights for this year, then grade them based on a variety of aspects such as difficulty, saves, assists, honor; the total would contribute towards a count that determined the winner. And though you’d been cautious about not winning - there were many other wonderful, more experienced heroes nominated - you just didn’t expect for the announcer to open up the golden cue card and read…
Fucking Nightwing.
Which is why you’d cornered him at the after-party - for a congratulations between you two that’d turned into passive aggressiveness, and passive-aggressiveness that’d turned into a proper argument you’re sure the reporters caught wind of, and an argument that ended up with you and Choso tangled up in your hotel room.
Pressing him down with your hips- you’re trembling at the feeling of his warm sap gushing out of you. It’s creating an ivory sheen down the inner sides of your thighs, smearin’ down Choso’s chiselled hips in a way that was just so lewd—and you’re more than happy to make an even bigger mess.
To throw your head back and grind your hips down onto his.
Choso hiccups, his upper half attempting to surge upwards- only for you to press one pretty finger down on his shoulder. And just the softest push has him tumbling back into the plush pillows, “Shit- y-you can’t just…do that to me.”
“Do what, baby?” You smirk down at him.
And right as he opens those cute, trembling lips of his to answer—you’re tightenin’ your thighs around his waist and jerking your hips even harder against his. His prominent v-lines massage where you were situated, and Choso groans as his blushin’ cocktip manages to push and pinpoint even the tiniest orifices inside you.
He’s still drooling out beads of cum, pooling at the base of his cock. So much of it- shit, was he still cumming?
Or was he cumming…again?
Unsure of what you were feeling, you’re veering your gaze down and attempting to get a better look. And sure as day- not only was it your translucent slick n’ his precum that was flooding you from the inside, but Choso’s ivory cum sprays out and and mixes into something so lewd-
“Fuck- fuck…” Your mouth waters at the feeling of being stuffed to the brim - so much of it that you’re wondering just how overworked his hefty balls must be. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, “You’re cumming again, Cho—”
“Th-this is exactly what I mean.” Choso sobs out, eyes glittering with tears, “You can’t just do that to me- you can’t make me feel so…stupid when you fuck me.”
Amused, “Stupid, huh? I don’t know if I have to try-”
“See, m’so gone that I’d agree—” That soft whine of his makes you so much wetter. Peering up at you with his half-lidded gaze - boring his dilated pupils into yours, hanging his jaw maddeningly. He presses a simple jerk of his ruddied cockhead into the deepest depths of your cunt - dead fucking serious. “I’d agree that m’stupid. I’d agree that m’pathetic.”
“Awwww…” Arching your back, he’s attempting this cute attempt at ruttin’ into you that you’re indulging in. You let him thrash his needy cockhead again and again and again-
“I-I’m nothing but a fuckin’ ngh, virgin that doesn’t deserve to fuck a pussy like this.” His lips wobble out- and you might have said something about him being too hard on himself…you might.
But the dirtier that Choso was speaking - the harder he was on himself - the harder he was getting.
Longer. Girthier—and his thorough thrusts were spearheading even faster by his tip. Taking out the tension in everything he was saying by ramming straight into your cervix - hard and fast. It twitches right at the very back of your spongy womb…and you’re swearing that a grin grows across Choso’s face as he registers that displeased expression on your face- who did he think he was to try and gain control over you?
“Now now—” You’re pressing both palms on top of his sweaty chest, and you can’t deny that they felt so toned and muscular underneath your touch. “Trying to be a big boy, Nightwing?”
“Only for you.” He croons.
“Cute.” You wrinkle your nose, “But that’d be a lot more smooth if you weren’t cumming- again.”
“Fuh-fuck.”
When was this? The third time? The fourth? Either way, all Choso knows is that he can’t stop those furious zaps of pleasure from coursing through his entire body—every inch and vessel and atom. It’s collecting at the mushroomy tip of his cock, red and swollen, then dribbling out as cum.
Not even.
Choso barely manages a few pearly white droplets before he’s shooting fucking blanks-
Head throwing back. Gasps echoing out of him. Chest heaving and heaving as you’re riding his overstimulated cock craaaaaazy-
“What was that about Year’s Best Hero?” You’re tittering out, staring into Choso’s utterly pretty face as he’s cumming through tears. Spark upon spark. Strong enough to make his toes curl, and you’re ruthless in the way you’re wrapping your warm pussy around him and milking him dry-
His pinkish lips wobble, “Wh-what was that…”
“How’re you gonna fight crime if you can’t even- ngh, handle a pussy?”
“W-well, I didn’t expect to be facing such a…formidable foe.” Blabbing out - utter nonsense at this point. He was pussydrunk—if only those at the Hero Award could see him like this. “You could take on a second job as a villain…j-just with that pussy…and also just f’me…”
“I take that as a…compliment?”
“You’re welcome—ngh.” Choso whimpers out- before there’s a sudden twitch at the crown of his swollen shaft. And those brown brows of his furrow, “B-but don’t be nice to me, however, it’s gonna make me cum- again. Mmm.”
“Oh, Choso…”
.
.
.
The glitz. The glamour. The fans begging you to sign their tits.
At the very next Hero Awards, there’s a buzz like never before.
For several reasons, of course: first of all, the matching outfits between you and the famously handsome Nightwing (though you’d argue that yours is the one that looked better, secondly because some drama-lovers anticipated a rerun of the infamous fight between you and aforementioned handsome hero, and last but not least—because of the new category of awards you’d been nominated for.
Most Inspirational Hero Couple.
And it was no surprise that Choso had won this one, but at least this time—you’d won it, too.
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Hulk.
It happened not when he was angry, or excited, or panicked.
The results of a top-secret experiment funded by The University of Tokyo, intended to create human super-soldiers: it had been a failure. And Dr. Ryomen Sukuna had known better than to get his hopes up for such a volatile test subject—he was an expert in the field, 7 PhDs in a variety of sciences from biochemistry to radiophysics, he knew that it could take months, years, even decades before they observed even a mere anomaly similar to what they’d been hoping for.
But fuck- Sukuna had really thought he’d done it. He’d made humans immune to gamma radiation.
At least, he’d thought he did.
Ryomen Sukuna blinked his eyes open after the sudden explosion of radiation, and at most he’d expected to see his laboratory wrecked, his data completely wiped. At most.
He didn’t expect to be seeing it from eight feet high.
He didn’t expect to be seeing it with four eyes.
He didn’t expect to wield four massive arms in an attempt to find any shattered piece of glass from which he may see himself from-
Two mouths let out simultaneous gasps.
One of them slashed across his muscular stomach.
He was a monster.
It didn’t take a single one of his PhDs for Sukuna to know to flee the scene- not just the building, but Tokyo itself. Sirens loomed in the distance, and the acrid smell of radiation left him in waves- bystanders running to the rubble without realizing the danger. He knew you’d be alerted soon—you.
How could he ever face you like this?
Lo and behold he’d ended up at a squat village in Aogashima island; 358km away from Tokyo with only 160 residents. It was here, tucked behind sprawling mountainsides, that Sukuna had come to discover the little intricacies of his…condition. Through trial and error, through testing upon himself and attempting to control that four-armed version of him. Attempting.
And so the question: what made him transform?
He discovered that this monstrous state - which he dubbed to be a Curse state - was triggered by sudden increases of his heartbeat. Rarely anger, or excitement, or panic. What else might possibly raise the disgraced scientist’s heartrate well over 200 bpm?
Arousal.
Which is exactly what he’d been learning to control through his breathing techniques, his meditation, and his celibacy- not that he’d want anyone but you. But fuck…the dreams he’d have of you.
Nightmares, when he wakes up as the monstrous King of Curses.
Heaven, when the exact source of his nightmares - and wettest dreams - comes knocking at his shunted door one sunny summer day. A furrow between your brows. A furious word or two slipping out at the first sight of him.
Fuck.
.
.
.
One year, two months, and a few days since…the incident and you’d finally located where your ex-boyfriend (and former colleague) had disappeared.
And you’d expected him to have sunken into his work in one way or another.
You’d expected him to have holed himself away in some rural town—as he’d confessed to wanting to do on some nights, just with you. You’d even have expected him to have been working on some strange new project after the failure of his last one- he was the type to take it to heart. A little dramatic, but you expected this.
You just didn’t expect…his transformation.
Right before your very eyes.
Four arms. Four eyes. Two cocks that’d stayed twitchin’ in his baggy pants for a mere few minutes of your conversation- before you had your face pushed into pillows that smelled like him, legs struggling to keep you up, begging for more as Sukuna digs those two ruddied cockheads between your pussylips and sliiiiides in-
Just a few inches.
Just a few.
Before the resistance of your tight entrance gets too much- and Sukuna’s leaning back a bit to allow his cursed second mouth to spit down on your pussy. Hard.
The impact makes you shiver, sticky substance gluing your pussylips together. You swear you hear his second mouth snicker as he swabs that cloying texture with his cockheads, and uses his hands to manhandle you into pliable position - one hand cupping your abdomen and pulling you up- the other digging into the left side of your hips- the other reachin’ down to thumb apart your swollen folds and help him fuck his lengths inside. Thick and throbbing.
In short, slow semi-thrusts. He was just trying to fit inside. “Kuna—” Breathing out open-mouthed against the pillows. Needy.
“Needy brat.”
“Kuna.”
“Sh-shit.” And he wasn’t doing a single bit better than you. Sukuna was letting his head drop into the clammy crook of your neck, gnarled canines grazing on top of your skin- you feel the scowl across his face stretch even more as he pull-pull-puuuuuulls those hot erections backwards.
And then probes aaaaaaall the way back in - languidly.
“Fuck-” You’re gasping out—seeing pure white behind your eyelids. You almost couldn’t believe it. Sukuna was already sizable- but in this form?
He had his round, reddened tips just barely lodging between your swollen folds. Just so big. Pulsing. Pushing apart your slick walls with his circumferences, throbbing away inside you. Rubbing back and forth a few times to savor the squeeze of your hole - like heaven - before he’s stuffin’ every single nook, cranny, and crevice like never before.
And the carnal burn between your legs was only made sweeter by the way that Sukuna himself trembled on top of you. He’s letting out a coarse grunt-
Gasping.
“Fuck—fuck, is this okay?”
And a part of you melts at the utter tenderness in his tone - mixing with a hint of fear. Of disbelief. Ryomen Sukuna was never the type to be vulnerable, not even when the two of you had been dating—but as you look over your shoulder right now, you see that those devilish red eyes of his were observing every minute expression as though searching for a hint of rejection. Of disgust.
A hint that he’d been right about his changed form.
He was inhuman in his physique now, and…and he understands if you’d been scared away at any point-
But you’re only arching your spine and veering your hips back into him- cutting off whatever whirlwind of thoughts was bound to consume him. You’re picking up the pace that he’d been unsurely slowly down, bouncin’ down onto those slick-glossed shafts. They filled you up deliciously. “You don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily again, are you?”
“I-”
“I’m more than okay, Kuna.”
“And yet-”
“And yet, why won’t you fuck me even harder—” Huffing, you’re managing to get up onto your elbows and gain a bit more leverage. “Spent so long looking for you, y’know…”
“Tch.” The scientist grumbles, but you could feel the way those rotund tips of his twitch just a lil’ inside of you. “Should’ve known-” He’s matching your pace with his own, slamming the lines of his toned abs against the globes of your ass cheeks. “-that you’d be an utter slut for monster cock.”
“Cocks.” You correct.
Just then, the wetness of his second tongue trickles down your pussylips. Gathering up every wad of honeyed slick you were leaking out- he was glissading his tastebuds along every inch of you he could reach: your inner thighs, your cute ass, nearly reaching around to fuck your pretty pussy. “Don’t forget the tongue, too, girlie.”
“I c-could never…” You’re keening out.
“Oh?”
And with a grin, Sukuna second-guesses no longer—before he’s leaning his chiselled front over yours. The hard ridges and lines of his muscles massaging your back, he hooks his fourth muscular arm around your neck and pulls you into a damn headlock-
“Fuh-fuck-” Sukuna hisses through his canines - honed and longer and ready to bite. He ruts into you like a damn animal—“Shit, how I missed this…”
“Shouldn’t have run away then-”
“From the fuckin’ freak?”
Just the slightest press against your throbbing g-spot - it’s like a trigger for the sweet, sweet squeeze of your walls- so warm n’ hungry for his cocks. And Sukuna jerks into urgent attention,
And now he wasn’t fucking you slow- he wasn’t taking his time.
Ryomen Sukuna had his muscular hips arched n’ reluctant to part from yours. Probin’ those girthy inches of his inside—
You’re attempting to claw at the headboard for dear life- but his keen eyes immediately catch the sliver of action, and Sukuna wastes no time before tightening his headlock ‘round you until his biceps bulge against your throat, hauling you back into his vicious ploughs. “What?” He breathes, scalding hot against the side of your cheek. “Where are we going, girlie?”
“We?”
“We. I could never forget her.” He’s rasping out against your skin, sending vibrations across every axiom of you. “Always thought of her—”
“A-and what did you think about?” You’re whimpering.
He doesn’t answer for a few seconds. And you’re disappointed as you feel Sukuna take as much time as his heart desires, pulling out of your pussy with a cute pop! Before he swirls his ruddied tips to soften up your entrance once more, and gives you a thorough thrash- going even deeper than prior. He’s making the eyes roll to the back of your head- he’s finally bottoming out. “I thought about how she might take every inch of me…”
“Oh.”
The tip of his second tongue dips out as though to fuck your cunt simultaneously.
.
.
.
When you’re accompanying Sukuna back to Tokyo, it’s hand-in-hand.
Large and warm against yours. There were more callouses on his fingers than you remember there being - not those of laboratory test tubes, and flasks, and flipping on centrifuges; but the hardship from the year you didn’t have him—and he didn’t have himself, either.
But you’re tugging him into the airport, now.
Two tickets booked and a meeting at The University of Tokyo already planned - the two of you didn’t plan to let anyone know of his transformative abilities for now. Perhaps never.
There were things that the two of you hadn’t sorted out yet: like how would Sukuna explain away his disappearance to the science board? How would you both stay in your cramped Tokyo apartment when he turned into his Curse mode? How would you manage to work on controlling it when…
But you knew the two of you would find a way - you always do.
As you’re standing at the terminal to your flight, the ones at the farthest end of the line, you’re turning around to a lilting voice calling out both your names. Your full names. Who knew such a thing…Faced with a grinning woman in a jet-black suit, tinted sunglasses, and the most accomplished grin across her face. She introduces herself as Tony- or as you may know her: Iron Woman.
And would you and your hulking boyfriend perhaps be interested in a little something called—
Sukuna’s breath hitches.
—The Avengers?
♡ INO TAKUMA - Flash.
“Mr. Flash- Mr. Flash! Just one more question, please…”
“Mr. Flash?” Ino gets a sheepish expression across his face at the esteemed title- one that makes the rest of his team roll their eyes. And he’s turning to the reporter that wastes no time shoving his mic in his face; camera already rolling, news headlines running.
All part of the job—it’s already been an hour since they’ve saved the city (yet again) and they’re still being interviewed, with no sign of it stopping anytime soon.
And so Ino plasters his camera-ready smile on - the rest of the team might not be as savvy as he was with the media, but he was one of the most popular up-and-coming heroes for a reason. Hah. The people loved him, and he loved the people. He takes the mic from the reporter faster than he can blink, and the man startles out a laugh.
“Woah, did you get that?” He turns uncertainly to the cameraman, who nods though he himself wasn’t too sure. Turning back to the red-clad hero- “You sure are fast. Tell us, Mr. Flash, does this speed affect you in your normal life, too?”
Ino answers, “Well-”
“And what about in the more…intimate aspects?”
He’s somewhat taken aback, “What do you-”
“What about in bed?”
Ino’s jaw has never dropped faster—ironic, isn’t it?
And that reporter leans in with a smile that’s turned wicked - one that said he’s going to get paid a lot of money for this particular clip. “Tell us, Mr. Flash, do you last nothing but a flash in bed?” Those beady eyes then turn to you—not too far away and interviewing another one of his team - ever since the two of you started dating, you’d been careful to not let anything slip about it, going so far as to avoid interviewing him as you once did as a hero reporter.
Though you suppose that some whispers did let slip.
For the man was staring at you, though he asked the question from Ino. “Or perhaps there’s a certain…someone that might know the answer to this question?”
That clip of him open-mouthed and gaping takes over social media within a few minutes - it garnered some strange frenzy of amusement and morbid curiosity. Some defended him fervently against the intrusive reporter, some argued that if one was a hero then they should expect strange questions, others condemned such questions all together- where were the boundaries?
Everyone else argued back.
But most…oh, you could’ve already guessed that most couldn’t help but speculate the real answers for both questions: the bed situation and the ‘certain someone’.
Ino, of course, was bemoaning his haste.
Or at least he would-
But right now he had you splayed-out underneath him and letting him fuck you maddened—the slender length of his cock pistoning in and out of you at a frenzied pace.
“Fuh-fuck-” That pretty, pinkened mouth of his droops open with a wet gasp—and Ino shudders as the ruddied tip of his cock swerves around your insides. Stars burst behind his teary eyelids as he’s sprinklin’ out yet another few droplets of him, trickling it deeeep into the back of your womb as he’s fucking your wet channel through it.
He’s shuddering his hips forwards and locking his knots of seed against the softness of your womb- “Fuck, you’re making me c-cum again, pretty…” And it’s about the fifth time in the past hour that he’s repeating this, “B-but I’m really not a flash in bed, right…?”
Such doe-like eyes stare at you, those long lashes of his glittered in tears. And you can’t help but say, “Mhmmmm—you’re really not, Taku.”
“But then why do you sound like you’re making fun of me?” Those trembling fingertips of his take purchase upon either side of your hips, and Ino’s mahogany brows furrows as he concentrates. “This round- this round, m’gonna prove it to you.”
“Taku, baby, you’re pussydrunk-”
“Even better.”
It’s been hours.
Fucking hours.
And Ino hasn’t stopped ruttin’ himself into the warm wetness of your pussy- he can’t stop himself.
It’s been too long - at this point he wouldn’t even be able to give you a number - since you’d successfully steered him away from that reporter and accompanied him to his penthouse. Since you’d reassured him that he totally wasn’t too fast in bed and that you definitely did think the sex lasted long enough.
But still.
He didn’t last a flash in bed.
He really, really didn’t—which is why a young dawn was filtering through the curtains- but Ino Takuma still had his cock lodged thoroughly inside you and was showing no signs of stopping any time soon. He’s reaching down to wrap both your legs around his toned waist, folding you in half n’ kissing your sweaty forehead with his.
But his point was getting harder and harder to prove with every round that he’s fuckin’ you through - bottoming out deeply at the back of your womb, and letting out the prettiest shivers as he feels you clench. “Fuh…oh, fuck.” Uttering mere minutes after he’s started this round, “I-I think m’gonna…”
“What’s that, baby?” You’re reaching up to loop your arms around his neck, tugging the beautiful boy towards you.
“Nothing.”
Batting your lashes up at him, “Awwww, c’mon- you know you can tell me anything, Taku.”
“I-it’s really nothing.” He insists.
“Hmmm, alright then…” But you knew- oh, you already knew. The more rounds that Ino was plunging you through, the more n’ more pussydrunk that he was growing—the shorter he lasted. Which wasn’t entirely anything bad- you honestly found it cute how it’d only take a few sweet slides down your tight pussy’s channel for Ino to utterly fall apart.
But he’s soon feeling that prickly sensation of his high, and he only starts tunneling between your sopping pussylips even harder. Brows knitting. Fingers digging into your flesh. “M’not gonna cum, sweetness-” He hiccups, “I-I’m not gonna cum, promise-”
“Mhm, I trust you.” You’re coaxing him, “I know you’re gonna last, baby.”
There’s a breathless note in his voice. He looks up at you in surprise, “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, I know you can handle it- hah.”
Fervently nodding, “Yeah- yeah, and m’gonna make you cum—”
“Mhm—” Lewdly smiling up at him. He’s just so entranced by that sinful expression upon your face that he doesn’t notice the way you’ve planted your feet firmly on the damp mattress- suddenly rolling your hips up into his own. “So why don’t I…help you, my hero?”
“H-help—oh.” Stunned. Cutting himself off with a groan.
Ino’s eyes squeeze firmly shut, and he’s shaking viscerally at the sudden plap! of your skin hitting against his own. It’s a different kind of burn when it’s you who’s taking control - and even though he’s on top of you, it feels like he’s the one that should be squirmin’ and gasping.
It feels like he should be the one who’s cumming first-
“No—” Ino’s gritting out through clenched canines - there’s a low trundle of something in his tone that sounds like desperation. Before you know it, he’s increasing the speed of his hips—plap! plap! Plap!
That rounded, red tip of his finds the spot of your nerves just perfectly- and Ino doesn’t waste a single second before he’s starting to bludgeon it with his thrusts. So many times that it starts to feel a bit raw.
Pinning you down using the weight of his lower half, Ino digs his right hand instantly between your two trembly thighs. Brushin’ apart your pussylips with a singular swipe of his thumb- your head explodes in so many bursts of pleasure as he starts twiddlin’ with your pretty, plump clit. “No, no, no- don’t think that I don’t know what you’re hck! doing, sweetness.”
Fluttering your lashes innocently, “And what’s that, Taku?”
“D-don’t think that I don’t know you’re trying to make me—” Pausing to let his crowned shaft push into your womb with a resounding squelch! “-cum first.”
“So what if I am, hm?” You counter, “I just really, really love the way it feels when you’re filling me up-”
“I know what you’re doing there, too—” He’s snarling down at you- just so gone on your pussy by now that he likely doesn’t even realize he’s drooling. Those dilated pupils of his bore straight into your own as he angles his hips to constantly bash your poor g-spot, circlin’ every sensitive orifice. “I know what you’re doing- fuck, I know what you’re doing…”
And you can only squeal as the sheer pressure of his cadence increases-
“And I know what I’m doing, too.”
Because if you thought that was fast- then you weren’t ready for just how rapidly Ino’s fingers could make you fall apart. They were just so loooong and pretty, flexible enough to twist your nub in constant circular motions, flexible enough to make you sob.
It doesn’t matter how badly you’re attempting to buck away - Ino keeps his fingers firmly into the wettened crevice between your legs. Twisting his wrist into aaaall sorts of degrees just to see which one made you scream the most-
“Please—” You’re bawling out after only a few minutes of this, legs shaking. “P-please, that’s unfair-”
“How so?” One amused brow raises. Perspired.
“B-because you’re gonna make me cum-” And to anyone else that would’ve sounded like a petulant complaint, it would’ve even sounded like a sore loser that couldn’t take on the challenge—but Ino knew. And you knew, too. “-using your powers—”
And the superhero can only grin, “So?”
Thrust after thrust.
Roll after sloppy roll of his glued fingertips - they were running your body taut. Without much effort, Ino’s able to make his blushin’ divot massage against your pussy at a rate where his hips almost looked like a blur—not even half of the Flash’s top speed.
And the fact that he was going easy on you made you huff in complaint.
Without thinking much of it, you’re back to ruttin’ up into him - definitely unable to meet his cadence, but you knew you didn’t have to.
You already had him wrapped around your little finger.
It takes only a few needy slams of your treacly pussy against his cock - all the way down to his thickened bottom - for Ino to throw his head back and groan. “You’re gonna…fuck, you’re gonna kill me, girl.‘
“Huh? But I didn’t do anything?” In a mock-innocent tone, “I certainly don’t have any powers to use.”
“Did you forget p-pussy power?”
You smirk.
And as he’s increasing his pace, you only have to whimper out his name for Ino to falter- for him to shake his head and continue. And as you’re attempting to gain the upper hand, he only has to buzz your throbbing nub with his electric speed for you to lose your mind.
Eventually—you think you’re about to cum.
And before you can accept the thought of losing, you’re grabbin’ Ino by his pretty throat and dragging him down to kiss his lips. “C-cum inside me, Taku.”
It’s a tie.
You’re crashing into your high, and Ino’s crashing into his.
Both the steaming hot pleasure of your orgasm flooding your core- and the few droplets that his overworked cock manages out. Creamy white sap. Thinner than usual—he was fighting not to merely cum blanks. Whimpering. Bucking. Fucking you like a damn animal…You’ve both experienced so many throughout the night that your current waves of bliss rip through you hard and fast.
Though Ino himself wastes no time bumpin’ his crowned cock into every tiny ridge of your wet channel. Scrape-scrape-scraping down the spots where you were most sensitive, and dragging it out for as long as he can.
You’re gasping as it leaves you numb from your toes, pulling his sweat chest against yours. “F-fuck, that feels so good…”
“Yes—fuck, yes.” And as the shudders of your high pass, you feel Ino’s cock grow just a little more limp inside of you- well…for a mere few seconds, that is.
“T-tie-breaker?” He whines.
.
.
.
The next time the two of you are spotted out together, it’s for an interview. Of course.
In which you’d ‘cornered’ global superhero Flash after yet another one of his successful missions - before any of the other reporters could manage to get their claws on him - with the question they’ve all been asking—“Do you really last as quick as a flash in bed?”
You’re hearing the shocked gasps around you from the other reporters and bystanders. None had dared ask this question so directly since that clip had gone viral - and in the peripheries of your vision you could see that interviewer from before gnawing his teeth at the fact that you’d stolen his limelight. Surely thinking you’d have about as much luck as him, however…
But of course, Ino already knew you were about to ask this.
His grin stretches underneath his mask as he turns to you, cameras rolling. “I should be asking you that, pretty. Dinner at 7?”
“There you have it, folks.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Spider-Man.
“S-so I guess what I’m trying to say is…” The masked intruder starts, his voice stuttering adorably through his lines. Though adorable as he may be, that doesn’t make you forget the fact that he was a man…tall…well-built…and clearly a crazed fanatic of the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man who’d broken into your dorm—“Uh…I come in peace?”
You’re raising the frying pan in your hands even higher, “I know how to hide a body-”
“O—okay, woah-” He’s immediately taking a few steps back, which you suppose you wouldn’t expect from a dangerous intruder. But then again, maybe he was just new to the job?
If so, he should probably have his pay docked - he was utterly failing at being intimidating. For he’s flattening himself against the window from which he’d entered just a few minutes ago, hands raised in surrender and the whites of his masked eyes widening. Damn, that costume was pretty good…
“I come in peace. I swear I come in peace- I’d just been running from a bad guy, and your dorm just happened to be…the first one I saw? Either way, I promise I’m no danger and I’ll just be on my way now so-” He immediately hastens, “Put…the frying pan…down.”
“Make me.” Raising it even higher, he flinches.
“Okay- oh my god, okay—” It really didn’t take much to make the man surrender at all, immediately giving up on any peace-keeping. He scrambles around the room and you’re worrying that he’s looking for something to challenge your frying pan with- but it seems that he’d just been brainstorming how best to go about with…whatever this is. Because in no time, you’re practically seeing a light bulb go off beside his head, and the man raises his palms as though to brace you.
And you can’t deny it, you found yourself a bit interested. “Um, yes?”
“Get ready- look—” He utters through the web-patterned mask covering his face. “Don’t faint but…”
“But?”
“I’m…Spider-Man.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
You’re assessing the man from head-to-toe—or at least what you could make out of him from the most elaborate cosplay of Spider-Man you’ve ever seen. It could honestly have been impressive if it wasn’t for the fact that he was in your fucking dorm.
But you digress.
“Okay, so do you want the frying pan- or I’ve also got a rolling pin-”
“What? No—no, listen.” The man insists, “I really am Spider-Man- it’s true! You’ve gotta believe me-” Though your deadpan expression gave away just about how much you believed the words that were falling from his masked mouth. And so he’s groaning in frustration, “Look- look, if I just showed you a few tricks would that work? Would that finally prove to you that I’m Spider-Man?”
Unimpressed, you cross your arms. “Go on, then.”
And then the first thing he does is shoot a clingy web from one hand, it launches at an incredible speed and sticks to your ceiling. That’s going to be hell to get out…
“Hm…” You narrow your eyes at him, “Impressive. But I’ve seen better at Party City.”
“That’s not fucking Party Cit- anyways.” He runs a hand down his weary face—or at least what you expect his face to look like beneath that mask. And as soon as you blink, you’re finding this…intruder(?) climbing up your walls. Literally.
All hands on there, glued to it with an invisible adhesive.
You gape, “That’s not…”
“And how about this? This is even better—” Before you can refute that previous trick, too, this man jerks his head up (or was it considered down? You weren’t quite sure given the way he’d crawled all the way to your ceiling by this point) and basks in the silence for a split-second.
You wondered whether he was actually sensing something or just pulling your leg-
“My spider senses say that your vibrator’s plugged in but it isn’t charging.”
You almost want to throw the frying pan at him. However, you’re managing to tamper down the urge long enough to walk silently to your room and back—fuck it, he’d been completely right. You still sort of want to throw the frying pan at him.
But as though he’d sensed that, too, Spider-Man raises his hands up to cover his head.
So you’re setting it down on your table with a defeated sigh, “Alright, I believe you…Spider-Man. What’re you doing here?”
“Like I said-” He finally lets go of the ceiling and stands in front of you normally now, “-bad guy had been chasing me. That one was just a little…above my paygrade so I had to stall until Iron Woman could get here- which was about five minutes ago. The fight’s still going on, however, and I should probably lay low for now.”
Awkwardly shuffling, “So then…”
“So then if I could just stay here until then, um…”
“Um, sure.”
“Sure.” He twiddles his thumbs, “So- is there anything you’ve wanted to know in particular about Spider-Man?”
You smirk.
.
.
.
“Always wanted to know how—hah, big it is.” Biting down on your lower lip, you’re managing to hold back a pitchy whine as his solid tip enters your hole.
Puckered and plump.
Just the cutest pink- he was the perfect girth and size.
Big enough to make your entrance quiver just feeling him kiss up against you, slender n’ smooth enough that he’s already starting to eagerly ease inside of you. And as you’re lowering yourself down on him, the superhero grabs onto either side of your ravenous hips like a lifeline—letting out a few ragged swears as he jerks his hips up and thrusts-
“Y-you should know…” He’s wincing at the feeling of your cunt - so hot and wet. Wasn’t this just heaven?
Turning around to look at him- he’s rather glad you’d chosen a reverse cowgirl position. Because at least then you wouldn’t have seen the way he wiped away fucking tears—sobbing at just the feeling of being inside your wet pussy. “Mhm, spidey?”
“You should know that this is my first time.”
“Oh.”
And with that being said, he’s thumpin’ out the most thorough hit at the very bottom of your pussy. He doesn’t have the experience of just eeeeasing in his incredible length- he’s chasing the back of your cunt like a man starved.
Like a man in unbearable pain every second he isn’t feeling the hotness of your cervix, the globes of your ass, the sensation of your walls squeezing around him like an embrace. So hot and wet. So sweet. So addictive-
“Addictive?” You’re giggling back at him, “Pussy talking already, huh?”
“I-I don’t even know what that is…” He’s babbling out, voice thicker than before.
And you can’t help but glide your palms down the smoothness of his exposed thighs, feeling every curve and divot of the corded muscle beneath. His body was just to die for - toned but not overly muscular. More like a sleeper build.
And you’re having soooo much fun moving your hips ‘round in all sorts of ways that made his muscles bulge—
“Fuck- fuck.” He’s stupid after just a few strokes. Bucking. Moaning. Hands tugging on the edge of the mask that found itself firmly upon his face, he’s attempting to loosen it and gasping for air-
“You should take that off, too.” You’re turning around and huffing at the sole scrap of fabric that kept you from seeing - what you assumed to be - Spider-Man’s pretty face. The only thing you could see of him were those stray curls of…white? Perhaps they were a super platinum blond? They wrapped around the nape of his neck and slightly leaned towards his jawline, drenched in sweat and flushed right down to his tone pecs.
The way that he’s squirmin’ and letting out the most unfairly erotic grunts every time you’re swallowing him up only left you so much more impatient. So much more impatient. “I s-swear I won’t tell anyone about who you are…fuck, and isn’t it getting super hot in there?”
“It is…” He murmurs, more to himself than anything. “But, what if—”
Peering back at him as he trails off, “What?”
“What if I don’t look how you expect?”
“It’s the personality that matters.” Nodding in conviction, and then a sly smile stretches across your face at the way that makes his cockhead throb-throb-throb harder inside you. You’re wasting no time before increasing the speed of your hips until your hamstrings scream—“And the cock…heh.”
“S-so filthy.” The hero mutters, “But what if I’m…not your type?”
“Ugh—” Almost rolling your eyes- it was cute just how shy he was, really. But the first thing you’d wanted to do upon finding out that he was the real Spider-Man was to fuck him - so how much of a hint could you really give? “Baby, my type is loser heroes, and I think you fit the bill.”
“Thank y- hey.”
Just a few more sloppy thrusts - just a few more - and the man beneath you finds himself completely n’ utterly gone from the force of your hips. The sweetness of your cunt.
The way you’d tighten your legs around him any time he swabbed near your sweetest spots. And he was chasing that particular bundle of nerves with such fervour- he was gasping as he feels himself veering even soooo much closer to the throbbing of your deepest walls- he was reddening the skin ‘round his pelvis through sheer impact.
And just as he thinks that he couldn’t get even more drunk on the texture of your pussy…
You’re whimpering out a sweet lil’ echo of his hero name—
And the superhero beneath you lets his head loll behind into the pillows with a groooooan- mouth falling open at the feeling of your cunt surrounding him. Clenching.
Clamping down, you’re holding him hostage better than any villain ever could.
His heavy balls were nearly full enough to burst- and he’s thinking that he’s gonna cum just as soon as he rams his blushin’ tip almost straight into the target of—
And then his spider senses tell him that your fingers are thinking of reaching for his mask.
But before you can even let the thought come into proper fruition in your mind, he’s taking nothing but a single split second to web your pretty wrists together and flip the two of you over. Just because he’s pussydrunk doesn’t mean he isn’t one of the world’s best superheroes, hm?
Now fucking you with your face smushed into the pillows, your knees bracing on the mattress. His cock pounding out a single thrust between those sweet, sap-covered pussylips of yours- the hero hits your g-spot instantly.
And that’s all it takes for you to topple right into your high.
Pleasure rushing through your body in waves. Fingertips clenching at the sheer force of it. You’re seeing stars behind your eyes at the sensation- “Sh-shiiiiit—” Perhaps one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had in your life- and not only was it wound up by a virgin, but the virgin was none other than Spider-Man?!
Jaw dropping open—though it was in slight shock, he’s taking the opportunity to lean and spit.
Making you moan as the gluey wad skids down your tastebuds, “Ohhh, you’re a secret freak, huh?” And though you’d meant it as a half-joke, the hero is leaning his chiselled body dooooown to whisper into the side of your ear.
“Maybe.”
Then there’s the rustling of fabric.
Of masks being removed, perhaps? It takes your mind a few more moments of him slammin’ his rugged cock inside you to realize…
And then the white-hot feeling of your orgasm coursing through your veins is suddenly overtaken by the realization that Spider-Man - maskless and exposed - was right behind you. Looming. Looking for your reaction, you suppose…you feel a jolt go through your body as you realize that he was waiting for you to turn—bearing all of this for you.
And you wondered what he would look like.
Pretty, sure.
Slightly nerdy—perhaps, he never struck you as the jock type.
Someone sweet. Someone kind.
Maybe that was just your wishful thinking.
You turn around and there he is - Gojo Satoru. You fucking knew him—he went to your university. The white-haired ace of the Physics Department; always roaming around campus with his textbooks or camera, always with his head buried and rarely meeting anyone’s eyes, always in the library to the extent that he might as well have been part of the furniture.
Always with his camera lens pointed at you, though he doesn’t think you saw him enough to notice.
But of course, you saw him.
Of course, you saw him.
He’s the boy you’ve had a crush on since freshman year.
Gojo doesn’t meet your eyes now, either. He’s without his thick-rimmed glasses and has to squint just a little bit, looking self-consciously down at himself and fuck- you have to resist the urge to beg for missionary then and there just so that you can stare into his deep, azure eyes as he fucks you.
Instead, you just say- “Did you know that nerds are also my type?”
He beams brighter than the sun.
.
.
.
The next time you’re beside Gojo Satoru, it’s hand-in-hand and entering your next lecture.
You could feel the stares, the gasps, the whispers.
The nerd of the physics department, and one of the most popular girls on campus- or at least, that’s what Gojo claimed. Professor Yaga himself lets his bushy brows raise just the slightest inch once he spots the two of you—and it makes your nerdy boyfriend blush right now to his ivory roots.
“Sweetheart—” He’s whispering to you, “How about we swing around the city today? Promise I’d never let you drop.”
You smile, “I’d love to, Toru.”
Oh, you can imagine that the Daily Bugle is going to go into haywire.
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Daredevil.
“Do you trust me, angel?”
You can’t keep the smile off of your face, “Who would I trust if not the best lawyer in Tokyo? Maybe even the world?”
“Why only maybe?” Higuruma smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges—just barely visible past the frames of his sunglasses. Your boyfriend was just so handsome when he was in his work clothes: one amongst the many crisp suits he often wore to court, hair slicked back n’ not a single strand out of place, his cane by his side. But he continues, “You know how I’m a…lawyer of sorts?”
“Oh really? I had no idea.” You jest.
“How about we try something tonight, my angel…” And as you’re peering down at him in curiosity, Higuruma starts to loosen his tie just the slightest bit—and you’re suddenly understanding what he means. “How about a simulation of this aspect, though in a far lighter tone?”
Your jaw drops, “R-roleplay?”
.
.
.
“Denied.”
“Hiromi, baby—”
“The court finds you guilty on all counts of seduction.” Higuruma’s deep baritone rasps down at you, punctured only by the slamming of his gavel on his desk. Bang! Bang! Bang! Those pressurized vibrations send shockwaves down your own body, and the lawyer’s grin stretches as he watches you affected by such a thing.
How cute…he couldn’t stop but let your orgasm edge for the nth time tonight.
Edging you.
It’s later into the night, you’re spread out across Higuruma’s neat work desk- your back against the frigid texture of the mahogany, your front arching into his own. He presses his suit-clad front against your naked tits—the harsh texture of his heroic suit - as per your request - rubbin’ against your nipples n’ sending you into an absolute frenzy.
He was such a tease.
Grinning as though he knew exactly what he was doing- even though the tone of his voice speaks of nothing but faux innocent. The lawyer speaks, “You’re moving around so much- something wrong, sugar?”
“A-absolutely nothing.” You’re managing to echo out.
“Good.” Higuruma utters, pure devilish desire in his tone. And he doesn’t need to say his next words for you to already know where this was heading- after all, one of his hands reaches for where his gavel was upon the table - using his radar sense - and the other presses down on your hips.
Right above where his thickened length was pressed between your pussylips—Higuruma feels his hand down upon your stomach as he sinks himself inside. The throbbing, cylindrical intrusion of his cock glissading inside- “Because we’re having a retrail.”
And then the gavel comes down right on top of the wooden desk.
It creaks and nearly splinters—but all you can think of is the way that Higuruma was fuckin’ his rotund tip into you as though there was no tomorrow. He wasn’t wasting a single second.
Court time was precious, y’know?
So you best believe that Higuruma had your hips pinned down with his own powerful ones, the scritch-scratching of his tufted happy trail rendering you stupid. Fucking you in hard, purposeful thrusts - each one aimed precisely for where you were most sensitive.
His swabbin’ thrusts didn’t just hit deeeeep into the back of your pussy, but your boyfriend was ending up pressing against your sweetest orifices, your soft roof, the door to your womb—dragging his thumb down the knob of your clit.
With those honed senses of his, you’re lasting barely two pumps of his accurate cock before he’s locating your g-spot—fuck.
And giving it the most merciless strike ever.
He knew where it was from the slurping sounds of your cunt - the way they’d grow just a little damper as he headed for that one spot, he knew where it was from the counts of your breathing - how you’d let them grow a bit more ragged as he veered his cocktip even closer, he knew where it was from the smell of your cloying slick—growing even wetter n’ more drenched in honey as you’d find yourself spearheaded by him.
Rough.
“State your name.”
And so the trail commences.
You’re doing so as he says- a monumental task given the way that Higuruma’s greedy hips don’t stop taking you for a single second. In fact, he’s kissin’ your g-spot at a constant pace and seeming to only ask you questions when he knows you’ll be affected by the sudden bursts of pleasure.
“State your age.”
Your mouth opens. But instead of your age, comes out a jumbled mess of pleads and his name—because just then, Higuruma had reached his dominant hand down and pinched your pretty, puffy clit. So needy that you’re trickling out wads of slick from between your pussylips.
Your hole’s clenching so thoroughly around him that he almost has to falter, too. “Now, now…” Tutting - and you knew that that was never a good sign when it comes to lawyers, but especially Higuruma. “Is that a refusal to testify? I’m afraid this won’t help your case, my angel.”
“I-it’s not…” Hot tears run down your cheeks - and in response, he’s only squeezing your poor clit even harder. “Promise I’ll tell you.”
And it’s only after you’re finishing your response - syllable after syllable - that Higuruma finally lets go of your sensitive nub. That too with such a level of reluctance—if you hadn’t known any better, then you’d have said that that was a sullen pout slashed across his lips as Higuruma lets go of that sultry appendage.
His fingers instead slide uuuuuup and down your wettened crevice- the perfect feeling of where his throbbing cock kept on pumping in n’ out. Higuruma’s lips slightly part as he touches upon the sheer difference in girth, in the way that your cunt was struggling to keep all of him bulging inside of you and yet you were still yearning for more. “Hmmm, state your crimes now.”
“I-”
“Not you.” Higuruma interrupts, “I’m calling up another witness.”
And yet, there was no other witness - at least not that you could see. And surely you weren’t that dumbified yet that you couldn’t conjure up the vision of someone else here when—there was clearly no one else here.
None but you, your boyfriend, and…your pussy.
Higuruma Hiromi - the best lawyer in Tokyo - had his head leaned lovingly down and his brows furrowed as he listened to the precious sounds of your pussy. As if he was deeeeep in the middle of the conversation, understanding every single slurp, squelch, and the most sultry gulps as yet another inch of him is being swallowed.
All of it reaches his ears like music. And he hums as he feels the sound of it send shivers through his very being- “Ahhh, I see…” Straightening up, he leers down at you. “My witness states that your crime is seduction.”
“G-guilty…or wait- no.”
“Guilty?” Higuruma questions in faint amusement, “Do you admit to the charged and- hah, forfeit your right to an orgasm?”
“No—” Whining out needily, “No, please- I need to cu-”
“Objection, hearsay.” He cuts through you coolly - through his cock was rutting into you in a way that was anything but. “You do not need an orgasm, angel. But does the defendant believe that she deserves one?”
“Y-yes.” You shamefully admit.
“Does the defendant believe that she is guilty of the crimes of seduction?”
“Yes-”
“Does the defendant believe that she is worthy of a second chance, however?”
Arching your back into his. “Of course.”
“Hm…we might have to settle this with a jury.“ Those dark brows of his furrow, between them a perspired bead of sweat tracks down his forehead. And it doesn’t take long for your smart boyfriend to know just whom to ask—before you know it, he’s veering his head down and using his super-heightened senses to listen to every single sound of your pussy.
To listen to your arousal.
To smell it- just so sweet.
To let his brain come to a conclusion—“The jury has come to a unanimous decision.”
Your heart jumps to your throat.
“All counts- not guilty.” And then with a few more fervent rolls on top of your throbbing clit, Higuruma drags you all the way to the precipice of your high and—and this time - just this time - he actually lets you topple over the edge.
Straight over it.
White-hot flashes. Warmth filling you up like a flood.
It starts from the tips of your toes and then shoots all the way up to your poor, sparking brain. The superhero grins as tears track down your cheeks at the final release that you’re been waiting so long for, and he grins as you’re shaking through wave after wave of your high. “Good-” You’re gurgling out cutely, “S-so good-”
Head dropping back against the pillows.
The rounded edge of his cock shovels in as he’s bursting your high through you wildly—
“What can I say?” He hums, “I’m a really good lawyer.”
A/N. Confession time: Higu and Kuna’s ones were the hardest to do because I’ve never watched Hulk or Daredevil WHOOPS-
