Imagine trying to have a normal Halloween party but all of your guests are REAL monsters that are horny as FUCK.
You see a fairy prince rubbing his bulge as you walk by, some werewolves eyeing your hips with each step, and you swear those “fake” vampire teeth just got longer as if getting ready to sink into your neck-
You’ve gotta stop having open invite parties unless you’re ready to feel tentacles and knots stretching you out.
Humans are cute, and you’re a particularly intriguing snack to monsterkind. With those plump hips and soft tummy, they’re about ready to tackle you and get to making babies.
A few drinks in and your giggling as a bottle spins. You end up in a closet with something you can’t quite comprehend and leave with your panties soaked with viscous black fluid and mind numb.
Some pretty vampire boys take turns kissing you, their cold fingers traveling down your body. It’s only later that you realize they’ve begun drinking from your neck, you’re too buzzed to even notice the pain.
Your pussy gets played with by an incubus who doesn’t even try to hide his flicking tail. Not like you’d notice anyways, you’re too focused on the feeling of his tongue swirling your clit.
Several cocks enter you that night, some slimy and long, others short at first before growing longer and thicker once they cum. By the end of your night they’ve all left some sort of claim on you, and you’ll be visited by different monster suitors until you pick which one to mate with.
You’ve got the sight after all, even if you’re not aware of it yet, and monsters prefer a human that came see them when they’re plowing into them.
Hopefully next time you’ll actually realize you’re getting pounded by actual monster cock, though.
︵ ೀ mdni. satoru is undoubtedly attractive but you still see him as the annoying little kid you babysat every weekend to earn some extra money during high school. little do you know that he wants to rail you bad ( pervert!satoru / reverse age-gap / dubcon )
satoru gojo used to be the annoying little kid you babysat every weekend to make extra money during high school.
he was your neighbor’s son—loud, spoiled, with those striking blue eyes that always followed you around the house like you hung the stars. you’d tuck him in, read him stories, and laugh when he threw tantrums about bedtime. “you’re like my big sister,” he used to say, clinging to your leg. you found it cute back then.
now he’s nineteen, tall, ridiculously handsome, and somehow even more trouble.
you still live next door, working part-time while finishing your degree. satoru has grown into something dangerous. six-foot-three of muscle, messy white hair, and that infuriating smirk that makes girls on campus lose their minds. but to you, he’s still little satoru. the kid you used to scold for eating too much sugar.
he wishes you’d stop seeing him that way. because every night when he’s alone in his room, it’s your face he sees. your soft smile, the way your hips sway when you walk, the curve of your breasts under those old t-shirts you wear when you come over to help his mom. he wraps his hand around his cock and strokes himself slow and desperate, imagining bending you over the same couch you used to read him stories on.
he cums hard every time, biting his lip to stay quiet.
seeing you now drives him insane.
you’re in his kitchen again, helping his mom with groceries like you always do. satoru leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you laugh at something his mother says. you’re wearing shorts that hug your thighs and a loose top that slips off one shoulder. he wants to rail you so badly it hurts. wants to push you against the counter, shove those shorts down, and fuck you until you finally see him as a man.
“hey,” he says, voice low and smooth as he walks in. he’s learned how to turn on the charm. “you look good today. new shorts?”
you glance down, then smile like he’s still ten years old. “these old things? thanks, satoru. you’re sweet.”
sweet. the word burns.
he steps closer, towering over you now. “i’m not a kid anymore, you know.”
you laugh softly, patting his arm like you used to when he threw tantrums. “of course you’re not. you’re all grown up. my little troublemaker became a heartthrob, huh?”
satoru’s jaw tightens. he wants to grab you, pin you to the wall, and show you exactly how grown up he is. instead he flashes that signature gojo grin, leaning in so his breath brushes your ear.
“you should let me take you out sometime. dinner. drinks. whatever you want.”
you blink, tilting your head with that innocent confusion that drives him crazy. “aww, that’s so nice of you! are you practicing your lines for the girls at school? you’re gonna break so many hearts.”
he nearly groans. “i’m not practicing. i mean it. i want to take you out. just us.”
you wave him off with a smile, completely missing the heat in his eyes. “you’re adorable. but i’m way too old for you, satoru. focus on college girls your age.”
adorable.
the word makes something snap inside him. he’s imagined you on your knees, lips wrapped around his cock. imagined folding you in half and pounding you until you scream his name. imagined filling you up while you moan about how big he is.
and you still call him adorable.
he steps even closer, backing you against the counter. his height makes it impossible for you to ignore how much he’s grown. “i’m not a little kid anymore,” he says, voice dropping. “i know what i want. and i want you.”
you laugh again, reaching up to ruffle his hair like you did when he was eight. “you’re so funny. always teasing your old babysitter.”
satoru catches your wrist gently but firmly, holding it against his chest so you can feel how fast his heart is racing. his blue eyes burn into yours.
“i’m not teasing.”
for a second you pause. but then you smile again. “you’ll find a nice girl soon. i promise.”
he lets you go, watching you walk away to help his mom again. his cock is half-hard in his pants just from being close to you. the frustration is driving him insane.
every time you treat him like the child he used to be, it only makes him want to ruin you more. to prove how much of a man he is by fucking you so deep you forget you ever saw him as anything but yours.
satoru leans against the counter, eyes dark and hungry as he watches you move around the kitchen. he stays there until he can’t take it anymore, then pushes off the counter and heads upstairs to his room without a word.
the second his door clicks shut, he’s already palming himself through his pants. he frees his aching cock and starts stroking, hoping that you’ll take the garden path home like you usually do so you’ll walk right past his window and hear the wet sound of his hand pumping his cock and the moans he doesn’t even try to hide because he wants you to know. he wants you to hear exactly what you do to him.
a few days later, satoru comes back from a late training session when he cuts through the side yard like he always does. your bedroom curtain is pulled mostly closed, but there’s a gap—just enough, and he stops dead. through the narrow opening he sees you.
you’re on top, completely naked, riding your stupid boyfriend with slow rolls of your hips. your head is tilted back, lips parted, hands braced on his chest. the moonlight catches the curve of your breasts, the way they bounce every time you sink down. your boyfriend’s hands are on your waist, guiding you, but his thrusts look lazy.
satoru’s mouth goes dry.
he should look away. he knows he should. but he can’t. his cock hardens instantly, straining against his pants as he watches you move. you look so pretty like this—flushed, glowing, lost in pleasure. but something ugly twists in his chest because it’s not him underneath you. he wants to be him so fucking bad.
before he can think, satoru slips behind the bushes, hidden in the shadows. his hand shoves into his pants, wrapping around his aching cock. he strokes himself in time with your movements, eyes locked on the way your body rises and falls. every soft moan that drifts through the cracked window makes him leak.
“fuck… you should be riding me,” he whispers. his fist moves faster, thumb swiping over the head as he imagines it’s your tight, wet heat instead. he pictures grabbing your hips, slamming you down on his much bigger cock, making you scream his name instead of whatever soft sounds you’re making now.
he cums hard, biting his lip to stay quiet, painting his hand while watching you chase your own pleasure. the sight of you cumming—back arching, mouth open in a silent cry—pushes him over the edge again. he milks himself through it, thick, messy spurts flooding into his boxers and soaking through his pants. after the orgasm fades and reality came back he stares down at the dark wet patch on the front of his sweatpants.
later that night he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, still half-hard while his damp pants he cleaned in a hurry so his mom wouldn’t notice, dry on the back of his chair in his room. that loser didn’t even make you cum properly. satoru could tell.
your moans were pretty, but not desperate enough. your body moved like you were doing most of the work. he knows he would be so much better for you. he would flip you over, pin you down, and fuck you so deep and so good you’d forget any other man existed. he’d make you cum until you cried, until your legs shook, until you begged him to fill you up. he’d treat you like the goddess you are instead of some half-assed ride.
the jealousy burns hotter than the lust now. you still see him as the little kid you babysat. you have a boyfriend who can’t even make you cum right, and you smile at satoru like he’s harmless.
it makes him insane.
the next afternoon he sees you working in the garden.
you’re kneeling in the flowerbed next door, wearing those same old shorts that ride up your thighs and a loose tank top, hair tied back messily as you dig around the roses. the sun makes your skin glow. satoru leans against the wooden fence that separates your yards, arms crossed over his chest, watching you in silence for a long moment. his eyes trace the curve of your back, the way your shorts cling when you shift, the soft bounce of your breasts every time you reach forward.
his cock twitches at the memory of last night—you riding that loser, the way your body moved, the sounds you made. he still feels a little ashamed about cumming in his pants like a desperate pervert, but the hunger is stronger.
finally he speaks, voice casual but laced with something darker.
“had a good night?”
you look up, brushing dirt off your hands, and give him that same bright, innocent smile you always do. “oh, hey satoru. yeah, it was alright. why do you ask?”
he shrugs, but his blue eyes are intense behind his sunglasses. “just curious. you seemed… busy.”
you laugh softly, standing up and stretching. the hem of your tank top rides up, showing a sliver of skin, and satoru’s gaze drops there instantly.
“nothing special,” you say. “just hung out with my boyfriend. watched a movie, you know how it is.”
satoru’s jaw tightens. he wants to tell you that “hung out” clearly wasn’t enough if you weren’t even satisfied. instead he flashes his usual grin and leans further over the fence.
“movie, huh? sounds boring. you deserve better than boring.”
you tilt your head, amused. “are you offering to entertain me now, little satoru?”
there it is again. little satoru.
the nickname stings worse than usual after what he saw last night. he wants to vault over the fence, push you down into the dirt, and fuck you right there in the garden until you scream his name instead of calling him little anything.
“i could entertain you way better than a movie,” he says. “just say the word.”
you chuckle and wave him off, going back to your flowers like he’s still the kid you used to babysit. “you’re such a flirt these days. go find a girl your own age.”
satoru stays leaning against the fence, watching you work, heart pounding and cock half-hard again. the frustration coils tighter in his chest. one day you’ll stop seeing him as the little boy next door. one day he’ll make you see exactly how much he’s grown—preferably while he’s buried nine inches deep inside you.
as you lean down deeper to reach a stubborn weed, your loose tank top slips forward. satoru catches a clear view of your tits—soft, full, and perfect, nipples just barely hidden by the thin fabric. the sight hits him like a punch to the gut.
his cock instantly swells, painfully hard again in seconds.
he can’t tear his eyes away. he imagines pulling your top down completely, watching those pretty tits spill out into his hands. he wants to grope them, squeeze them, bury his face between them while he fucks you. he wants to suck on your nipples until they’re swollen and sensitive, until you’re whimpering and arching into his mouth.
the urge to take a picture is so strong it almost hurts. he wants to save this view forever—the way your tits hang and sway as you work, the soft curve of them, the way they move when you shift. his fingers twitch at his side, desperate to grab his phone, but he forces himself to stay still.
he can’t. not without risking everything.
instead, he just stares, breathing hard through his nose, cock throbbing angrily in his pants as fantasies flood his mind. he wants to cover them in his cum. he wants to watch them bounce while you ride him. he wants to mark them as his.
he can’t take it anymore. muttering a quick excuse, he turns and practically runs inside his house. he doesn’t even make it up the stairs to his bedroom this time. the second he’s inside the downstairs bathroom, he locks the door, yanks his pants down, and wraps his hand around his throbbing cock.
he strokes himself furiously, leaning against the sink, replaying the image of your tits spilling out of your top and the memory of you riding your boyfriend. it only takes him a minute before he cums hard again, biting his arm to stay quiet as thick ropes paint the sink.
panting, flushed, and still half-hard, satoru stares at his reflection. he knows he’s completely fucked. but he also knows he won’t stop until you finally see him the way he sees you. lucky him, it didn’t take long for the next opportunity to arise.
the next time you come over, it’s to help with groceries like always.
satoru’s mom is out running errands, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. you’re putting things away, humming softly, completely unaware of the way satoru is watching you. he’s done playing nice. the images from the garden and that night through the window have been burning in his brain for days. he’s tired of being “cute little satoru.”
you reach for the top shelf, standing on your tiptoes, trying to slide a heavy bag of rice into place and your shorts pull tight across your ass.
“here, let me help,” satoru says.
he steps right behind you before you can protest. his tall frame cages you against the counter, one arm reaching easily over your head to push the bag into place. but he doesn’t step back. instead, he presses forward, letting you feel every inch of his hard cock against your ass through his sweatpants.
you freeze. “satoru…?”
he doesn’t move away. if anything, he presses closer, rolling his hips just enough for you to feel how thick and heavy he is. his breath is hot against your ear.
“you feel that?” he murmurs. “that’s what you do to me. every time i see you. every time you smile at me like i’m still that little kid.”
his hands slide down to grip your waist, holding you in place as he grinds slowly against you. the hard line of his cock nestles perfectly between your cheeks, and he lets out a shaky breath.
“i’m not a kid anymore,” he continues, lips brushing your ear. “i’ve been jerking off to you for months. thinking about bending you over this counter and fucking you. thinking about how much better i’d be than that useless boyfriend of yours.”
you try to turn around, but he keeps you pinned, chest pressed to your back.
“satoru, this isn’t funny—”
“i’m not joking.” his voice drops even lower, more aggressive. one hand slides up your side, thumb brushing the underside of your breast. “i saw you riding him the other night. through your window. he couldn’t even make you cum properly, could he? i would. i’d fuck you so good.”
he rolls his hips again, letting you feel how hard he is, how big. his cock twitches against you, desperate and leaking.
“tell me to stop and i will,” he whispers, even as his grip tightens possessively. “but i think you feel it too. how much i want you. how much better i can make you feel.”
you’re breathing faster now, trapped between the counter and his tall, muscular body. satoru leans down, lips grazing your neck. “let me show you. just once. i’ll make you cum so many times you’ll be begging for more.”
you’re breathing faster now, trapped between the counter and his tall, muscular body. satoru doesn’t wait for a clear answer. he rolls his hips forward again, slower this time, deliberately dragging the thick ridge of his cock against your ass through your thin shorts.
a shaky breath escapes you and he feels it—the way your body tenses then softens just a little. encouraged, he does it again, pressing harder, grinding his clothed cock between your cheeks in slow rolls. the friction is maddening. even through two layers of fabric, you can feel how hot and heavy he is, how big.
“satoru…” your voice comes out breathless.
“shh,” he murmurs against your ear, lips brushing the sensitive skin. “just feel me.”
his hands tighten on your waist, holding you still as he starts dry humping you properly. long, deliberate thrusts that slide his hard length up and down between your ass cheeks. every roll makes your shorts ride up further, the fabric catching and pulling against your pussy. you can feel yourself getting wet, your body reacting even though your mind is still spinning.
satoru groans softly, forehead pressed to the back of your head. “fuck… you feel so good. been dreaming about this for so long.”
he picks up the pace a little, hips snapping forward with more urgency. the kitchen is quiet except for your shared heavy breathing and the faint rustle of clothes. you grip the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white, trying to steady yourself as heat pools low in your belly.
“you’re getting wet, aren’t you?” he whispers. one of his hands slides down your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your shorts. “i can feel how warm you are. your body knows i’d be better.”
you bite your lip, a soft, involuntary whimper slipping out as he grinds particularly hard against you. the pressure on your clit through the fabric is driving you crazy. your breathing is turning faster, chest rising and falling quickly.
satoru notices immediately. a pleased sound rumbles in his chest.
“that’s it… getting breathless for me already?” he teases, but his voice is strained. he rolls his hips in a slow circle, pressing his cock right against your clothed entrance. “good girl. let me hear those pretty sounds.”
he keeps grinding harder, faster, like he’s trying to fuck you through your clothes. every thrust makes your tits bounce slightly and pulls another shaky breath from your lips. you’re starting to push back against him without thinking, chasing the friction.
satoru’s hand finally slips under your tank top, palm hot against your bare stomach.
“tell me to stop,” he rasps, lips against your neck, “or tell me to keep going. because if you don’t… i’m not gonna be able to hold back much longer.”
you’re panting now, head spinning, body burning under his aggressive touch. satoru keeps grinding against you like he’s possessed, cock throbbing against your ass, waiting for you to decide how far this is going to go.
“satoru… we can’t.” your fingers dig harder into the counter, knees feeling weak. “this is wrong… you’re—you’re basically still my—”
“we can,” he cuts you off. “we definitely can. and we’re going to.”
before you can protest again, his hand leaves your waist. you hear the metallic clink of his belt buckle, the sound of his zipper being dragged down. your heart hammers wildly as he frees his cock. it’s heavy and hot as it springs out, slapping against your ass cheek. he’s so hard it looks painful, the tip already leaking.
“feel what you do to me,” he murmurs, pressing the thick length against you again, this time with nothing but your thin shorts and panties between you.
his fingers hook into the side of your shorts and panties, tugging them just enough to the side. cool air hits your soaked pussy for a second before he slides his bare cock along your drenched folds. the hot, velvety length glides up and down your slick lips, parting them slightly with every slow stroke but never pushing inside.
you let out a broken whimper, forehead dropping against the cabinet door.
“fuck… you’re soaked,” satoru groans. he rocks his hips, sliding his cock repeatedly between your folds, coating himself in your wetness. the head catches on your clit with every pass, sending sparks shooting through you. “all this for me? and you still tried to say we can’t?”
he keeps the teasing motion going—long, deliberate slides from your entrance up to your clit and back down. every time the thick head nudges against your hole, you clench around nothing, aching to be filled. your breathing is ragged, little gasps and moans slipping out despite yourself.
satoru’s free hand comes back to your hip, holding you steady as he grinds his bare cock against your dripping pussy.
“see? we can. and it feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? just imagine how much better it’ll feel when i finally slide inside you.”
he presses forward a little harder, the head of his cock dipping just slightly against your entrance before sliding back up, teasing mercilessly. you’re trembling, breathless, torn between pushing him away and pushing back for more.
“tell me to stop… or tell me you want it. because i’m this close to bending you over and fucking you right here on the counter.”
finally, you break.
“…just the tip,” you whisper. “okay? just the tip, satoru. and don’t come inside me.”
the words barely leave your mouth before satoru groans like he’s been granted heaven. “fuck, yes. just the tip, baby. i promise.”
he lines himself up, the fat head of his cock pressing against your dripping entrance. he pushes forward slowly, and the stretch is immediate. only the tip slips inside you—just the swollen head breaching your tight walls. it’s enough to make both of you lose your minds.
“oh my god…” you gasp, fingers scrabbling against the counter. the feeling of him inside you, even just that little bit, is overwhelming. he’s so thick.
satoru’s forehead drops to your shoulder. “fuck… you’re so tight. so fucking warm. just the tip feels this good?”
he rocks his hips in tiny, shallow movements, fucking just the head in and out of you. every shallow thrust makes wet, obscene sounds echo in the quiet kitchen. he doesn’t push any deeper, but the way he’s teasing your entrance is driving you insane. the constant stretch and release has your walls fluttering around his tip, trying to pull him in further.
“satoru…” you whimper, pushing back against him despite yourself.
“i know, i know,” he pants. “just the tip. i’m being good. but fuck, baby… you’re sucking me in. your pussy wants more, doesn’t it?”
he keeps it like this—shallow little thrusts that only give you the head, never more. it’s torture. for both of you. satoru’s hands grip your hips so tightly you know you’ll have bruises. his breathing is harsh against your neck as he fights every instinct to slam all the way in.
“you feel so perfect,” he groans, circling his hips so the head rubs against that sensitive spot inside you. “i could cum just like this.”
you’re moaning softly now, completely breathless, knees shaking. the denial is making everything more intense. every shallow thrust sends sparks through your body, but it’s not enough. you need more, but you’re scared to ask.
satoru’s control is hanging by a thread. his cock twitches inside you, leaking precum, and he has to bite back a whine. then his hands slide up under your tank top, pushing it up until your breasts spill free. he immediately gropes them, one large hand squeezing and kneading your soft tits while his thumbs flick over your hardened nipples.
“mmh— satoru…” you moan, pushing back against him desperately.
he chuckles against your neck, pinching your nipples hard enough to make you gasp. “what’s wrong, baby? your loser boyfriend doesn’t play with these pretty tits like this? doesn’t know how sensitive you are here?” he rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging them while still fucking you with only the tip of his cock. every shallow thrust makes you clench greedily around his head, but it’s never enough.
“bet he doesn’t even make you wet like this,” satoru says, voice dripping with arrogance as he squeezes your breasts harder. “bet he fucks you like a pathetic little boy and still can’t make you cum. that’s why you’re dripping down my cock right now, isn’t it?”
you whimper helplessly, forehead pressed against the cabinet, hips trying to push back to take more of him. but satoru keeps perfect control—only giving you the tip, no matter how much you beg with your body.
“say it,” he murmurs, biting your shoulder lightly while still playing with your tits. “tell me his dick isn’t enough for you. tell me you need mine.”
he punctuates his words with another shallow thrust, the head of his cock catching perfectly against that spot right at your entrance. your moan comes out broken and needy.
“satoru… please—”
“please what? please fuck you properly? or please keep teasing this desperate little pussy until you’re crying for me?” then, just to torture you more, satoru pushes in a little deeper—only an extra inch, but it’s enough.
you cry out sharply, the sudden stretch pulling a broken, needy sound from your throat. your body reacts on instinct, pushing back against him desperately, trying to take more of his thick cock.
“greedy girl… you said just the tip, but look at you pushing back like you want me to ruin you.”
he gives you another shallow thrust, still not going all the way in, but deeper than before. you whimper pathetically, hips rocking back against him again, chasing the feeling. your pussy clenches hard around him, dripping down his length.
“fuck, you really want it, don’t you?” he laughs breathlessly against your ear “you want your former babysitting kid to fuck you stupid—”
the front door suddenly swings open.
“satoru? i’m back early—”
his mom’s voice cuts through the air like ice water.
you both freeze.
satoru reacts instantly, pulling out of you and yanking your tank top back down to cover your chest. he quickly tucks himself back into his pants, heart hammering. you’re still pressed against the counter, legs shaking, face burning with embarrassment as you try to fix your shorts.
his mom stands in the doorway only seconds later, holding grocery bags, blinking at the two of you.
satoru clears his throat, somehow managing to sound almost normal. “hey mom. we were just… putting the groceries away.”
you nod quickly, too mortified to speak, cheeks flaming red. your thighs are still trembling, pussy aching from being left empty and dripping.
his mom narrows her eyes slightly, suspicious. “hm. well, don’t make a mess in here.”
she sets the bags down and walks further into the kitchen, completely unaware of how close she came to catching her son balls-deep inside you.
satoru glances at you, eyes still dark. he leans in close while his mom’s back is turned, whispering hotly against your ear: “this isn’t over. next time i’m not stopping until you’re creaming all over my cock.”
you shiver, pressing your thighs together as you try to calm your racing heart.
note: please do not ask for updates, continuation dates, or whether this story will be continued. if there is an update, i will post it.
you sleeping on your tummy, one leg stretched out and one knee bent close to you. and your boyfriend arrives, cock hard and aching for you. he presses his bulge to your ass and rubs it against you, groaning as he does so. inhaling the scent of your shampoo. rubs your pussy through your panties before he pulls his cock out. he moves your cute undies to the side and fills you up with him :( and you begin to wake up and you’re so needy. so unbelievably needy for him
your palm smacks! weakly at his stomach—. “fuckfuckfuck!—sukuna—slowww!!”
he snorts, grabbing your wrists in one hand, pinning them flat above your head. “slow? thought ya said you could take it?” his free hand comes to your jaw, palm squeezing your cheeks together until your lips pout. “so fuckin’ take it.”
your thighs tremble, heels digging holes in his lower back—desperately trying to ground yourself.
“quit movin’ your ass.” he mutters, his hips slamming up brutal, fat cock punching so deep it feels like you’re gonna split.
your breath stutters, hips bucking into him. “s-soooo ngh—deep..”
“yeah? no shit.” he laughs under his breath.
your wrists twist under his grip—trying to brace against the way he’s fucking you into the mattress, hips snapping into you hard enough to make the bedframe shudder.
you stare up at him through big bleary unfocused eyes, tears sticking to your pretty lashes. “k-kunaa.. hngh please? lemme catch my-”
“catch it while i’m still bein’ nice,” he grunts, hand sliding from your wrists to wrap around your throat—not choking, just enough to make your breath flutter.
he leans down, chest brushing yours, eyes tracing your cunt, drooling on the sheets and making your face burn. “pussy’s s’fuckin’ greedy—” he rasps, breath hitching as he watches his cock stretch you out.
his hips grind harder, sliding in deep, deliberate strokes, cock dragging over that spot that makes you keen. your stomach tightens, chest rising and falling so fast it hurts.
he yanks your hips flush against him, slick coated thumb pressing against your nub—rubbing quick little circles that elicit high-pitched moans from you. “awwh… look at that face,” he murmurs, smirk tugging at his lips. “gonna make such a mess for me, huh baby?” he coos.
“yesyesyes! s’much—pleaseeee!” you babble, drool slipping from your lips as your brain melts. moans spilling in time with the way he’s driving you closer to your high.
the tight knot in your tummy bursts, fat tears sliding down your face—as the rest of your body locks, muscles twitching and hips jerking—sharp pleasure tipping straight into overstimulation.
“ngh! n-no more—kunaa!” your mouth falls open, a ragged a whine escaping as you claw at the sheets, legs kicking in a weak, useless attempt to push him off—but his grip on your waist is iron.
he drags you back down, pounding straight through your orgasm. “uh-uh. c’mere, hah!—take this shit.” he tuts.
you don’t even have time to breathe before sukuna hisses low, a drawn-out groan slipping past his teeth. his cock pulses deep inside you, creamy ribbons spilling hot, flooding your cunt so full it runs over and pools on the sheets.
it’s not long before his hips start up again, each thrust dragging through your overstimulated cunt, the messy sound of him fucking you drowning out everything else, your fucked-out, twitchy body locked in place under him.
he grabs your jaw, forcing your face up. “nah… you wanted this, silly girl… we ain’t done ‘til i fuck you stupid.”
a/n | ive been soso sick this past week, sorry if its a lil rushed <\3
making dadbf!jack ♡ repeat his age to you whilst riding him.
𓊆 cw: SMUT, fauxcest, dad / daddy kink, dadbf!jack wearing his readers, age gap, reader is an adult with a fully developed frontal lobe ! !, dubcon, undertones of reader wanting to baby trap jack, unprotected sex, coercion, creampie 𓊇 ‧₊˚ ┊ 755 words
“say it again, daddy–” squish. squash. every bounce you made on jack’s thick girth was discernible in the quiet stillness of his home office. “p-please say i-it to me–” squelch. “–again.”
you merely snuck in as you were feeling lonely and would like to be in close proximity with him. and by that, it meant nestling into him as you stick his cock inside you. you said in faux confidence that you would stay still as he proceeded to work on his computer.
‘you really think you could last more than a minute like this?’ jack squinted at you through his readers, there was a teasing lilt to his question — as if he could already envision how this was going to end. spoiler: he would be correct.
but you were determined (and stubborn) to prove to him you could. ‘promise – i’ll be good, dad.’
“tell me how old you are.” you mewled, you gripped onto his strong shoulders, ruining the crisp shirt jack got on.
his head was tilted up, groaning to the ceiling. his readers had gone out of alignment, it now sat on the pointiest tip of his nose. his hair unruly from your fingers roughly running across his scalp, and his face flushed and sweaty — he looked absolutely laughable like this. what would his peers or juniors think if they caught their very serious and very professional attending — helpless before a pretty young thing?
there was a large, creamy stain starting to form on jack’s dress pants, and it’s only getting bigger the longer you keep this up.
“oh god. fuck– ff-fifty. i’m fifty.” he almost whined at the end of his response.
“again.” you pressed. the roll of your hips getting faster and more desperate.
“i’m fifty. i’m fifty.” he held you firmly at the soft curve where your hips met your thighs, encouraging your movements. his breathing had become more ragged, his moans and groans getting much louder as he’s nearing his peak.
you begged once more. “say it again, please. dad, please! i’m gonna cum if you tell me again. please. please! i’m gonna cum–”
since you asked so nicely, looking so pretty as you did, jack leaned in close to the shell of your ear. the lightest touch of his lips and the gruffness of his voice made you shiver.
“i’m fifty years old, babydoll. shouldn’t have any business playing around with your dad like this, hm? but you’re a nasty girl. when nasty girls feel achey here–” he pressed the pad of his thumb over your throbbing clit. “–they fuck themselves on their dads’ cock.”
“aahh!” you shrieked at the top of your lungs, the walls of your cunt intensely pulsated around his fat length.
“shit! i’m gonna cum. i’m not wearing a condom – baby, baby i gotta pull out!” he tried to maneuver himself so he could take himself out before he shot his load in you.
but you kept yourself buried deep, using your position to your advantage.
“babydoll–” jack warned you. “get up, young lady.”
“no!”
he wriggled and squirmed beneath you. he should be able to overpower you but if he got up all of a sudden, he’s afraid he might push you down the floor or hurt you in any way. he just desired for you to gently pull out.
“you asking to get spanked?!”
he didn’t mean to raise his voice, but he’s very strict about using practising safe sex. it was already risky enough to let you warm his cock in the first place. he also didn’t want you to feel regret — if something or someone did come to fruition. he didn’t want to put any pressure on you if you were unprepared to step into that chapter of your lives.
“don’t care, daddy. jus’ wanna feel you cum inside me. i need it.” if that was not convincing enough for him, you took hold of his face in your hands to look him in the eyes.
despite the sensitivity of your core, you started to slowly grind on his lap again, mercilessly not giving your lover any other choice.
that made the dam burst, loads and loads of his spend was released in your sex. his cries were sharp, the loudest you’d ever heard from him. you noticed there were actual tears in his eyes, you carefully wiped them away with the tips of your fingers.
“daddy? i reallyyy want a sister, but i don’t care that much at all, to be honest. a healthy sibling would be perfect.” ♡
🐑 : something short, sweet, and icky that's been collecting dust in my drafts for 2 weeks now. i couldn't get it out of my head so might as well drop this lil treat :3 CORRUPT THAT OLD MAN MONDAY !
Now that he’s out of my system… [Dub-con Warning 18+]
Sleepy sex with Sylus in the middle of the night. You wake up warm all over, assuming it’s because of the literal furnace of a man beside you only to discover it’s him but even better. Sylus is having a wet dream, brows pinched and jaw slack as his chest heaves in an unsteady rhythm. One you recognize all too well, the only other dead giveaway is the visible bulge in the sheets over his groin.
You watch him for a little bit, memorize the way his face twitches and his hips roll up against the bedding. Searching for relief, searching for you. His own subconscious trying to recreate the physical pleasure his mind is conjuring. It makes your stomach flutter, heat surging straight between your thighs as you wonder what he could be dreaming about. What he could possibly be doing to you in his dreams, or what you could be doing to him. Either way, he looks so adorable and needy.
Not able to contain yourself, nor let him suffer for much longer. So you snuggle in closer, running your hand down the planes of his stomach and under the waistband of his boxers to wrap around his hard on. Gasping with him as he bucks into your hold, your nose nuzzling his pulse. Jerking him slowly while kissing on his neck, muttering sweet nothings as you try so carefully not to wake him.
It’s no use, Sylus is too sharp even in sleep. Just as he’s about to cum, those crimson eyes flutter open and a hand shoots over the covers to stop you. “Wait…” thick and groggy, you can feel your panties stick to your cunt as you squirm, peering up at him in the dark. “… I need to cum inside of you. It’s the only way.” You could die happy.
That’s how you end up cradled in his arms, faces nuzzling the other, cock buried so deep inside of your warmth it’s hard to decipher where one begins and the other ends. Sylus somehow has staved off his orgasm in favor of rocking slowly, letting the pleasure melt his mind and body into the mattress. Letting it consume him, letting you consume him in his entirety. Everything he has to offer.
Imagine sleepy cockwarming with John Price like UGH HOT.
You’re well and truly asleep in your bedroom when you hear the door creak open. You’d be more worried but you’re so comfy, you can’t find it in yourself to care all that much. Besides, more than likely, it’s just your partner, John.
You don’t even care when the intruder climbs on top of you and starts pulling down your bottoms.
You only start to care a little when you hear the sound of a zipper, but you immediately melt back into the bed at the familiar sound of John’s gravelly voice, mumbling into your ear.
“Shhh. Jus’ me, love.” He presses a kiss below your ear and you feel him slip inside your hole. Once he's fully inside, he drops his entire bodyweight on top of you, pressing deeper into you and nudging that one spot that especially makes you squirm.
"John.." You push your hips back into him and bury your face in the pillow.
He huffs, not moving except to press you further into the mattress, "G'back to sleep."
You wish you could squirm at least a little bit to get some more stimulation going, but you're completely stuck.
What makes it even worse is when he falls asleep and you just know that he won't be awake for another few hours.
