hawaii (maui) — gojo :: you sign up for surfing lessons hoping for a relaxing summer activity and instead get stuck with the most insufferable instructor on the island. By the time your final lesson arrives, saying goodbye feels a lot harder than falling off a surfboard.
You signed up for those surfing lessons on a whim, thinking it’d be the perfect low-stakes way to kick off your Maui summer. Turns out it was the start of something you still can’t quite explain.
You’d moved to Honolulu a few months earlier for a teaching job that kept you buried in lesson plans, grading, and parent emails most of the year. Summers were your reset—two full months off to actually breathe. The city was fine—palm trees, good poke, that constant warm breeze—but it felt like you were still unpacking your life in slow motion. So when the school year ended, you booked the ferry to Maui on impulse for the first couple weeks. One duffel bag, a beat-up pair of flip-flops, and zero expectations. You figured you’d lounge on the beach, eat too much fruit, and maybe learn to stand on a board without eating sand. Simple.
The surf school was a small operation tucked behind a row of rental shacks near Lahaina. A hand-painted sign read “Maui Wave Riders – No Experience? No Problem.” You showed up fifteen minutes early on the first day, sunscreen already sweating off your arms, and joined a group of five other beginners milling around on the sand. Two college guys from California, a couple on their honeymoon, and a woman in her forties who kept checking her watch like she had somewhere better to be.
Then Gojo showed up.
He jogged down the beach carrying three boards under one arm like they weighed nothing, white hair shoved under a backward baseball cap, board shorts hanging low on his hips. “Morning, wave warriors!” he called out, voice loud enough to scatter a few nearby seagulls. “Who’s ready to get absolutely destroyed by the ocean today?”
The group chuckled nervously.
He dropped the boards with a thud and clapped his hands once. “Alright, quick roll call. I’m Gojo, your ridiculously talented instructor. I’ve been surfing these waters since I could walk, so trust me when I say I’ve seen worse than whatever you’re about to do out there.” His eyes skimmed the group and landed on you. “New face. You from Honolulu? You’ve got that city-girl posture.”
You blinked. “Yeah. How’d you—”
“City girl it is,” he said, already moving on. “Let’s get you all suited up before the sun decides to cook us alive.”
The first hour was mostly on the sand. Gojo demonstrated pop-ups with exaggerated slowness, then yelled corrections while everyone practiced on dry land. He was everywhere at once—fixing the honeymoon husband’s grip, teasing the California guys about their “mainland form,” and somehow remembering the watch-checking woman’s name after hearing it once.
You kept falling during the pretend pop-ups. Your arms shook, and sand stuck to the backs of your thighs in gritty patches.
“Easy, rookie,” Gojo said, appearing beside you without warning. He placed one hand on your waist to steady you as you tried again. His palm was warm, calloused from years of paddling. “Bend your knees more. you look like you're waiting for a bus”
You wobbled and dropped back to the sand. “I feel like a newborn giraffe.”
“Giraffes can’t surf,” he shot back, grinning. “You’re doing better than that guy over there.” He jerked a thumb toward one of the college dudes who’d just face-planted dramatically. “At least you’re not dramatic about it. Yet. Come on, try it without looking like you’re about to file a complaint with HR.”
By the time you actually got in the water, the sun was high and relentless. The waves were small, beginner-friendly, but they still felt like they held personal grudges. You managed to stand up twice—brief, glorious seconds—before the board shot out from under you and you ate it hard. Saltwater burned your nose. When you surfaced, coughing, Gojo was already paddling over on his own board, laughing.
“Ten out of ten for commitment,” he said, offering a hand to help you back onto your board. “Zero out of ten for grace. Classic city girl move. You fall like you’re texting and walking at the same time. Or maybe you’re just trying to hug the ocean. Either way, entertaining.”
“Stop calling me that,” you grumbled, but took his hand anyway. His grip was firm, steadying.
“Can’t. Forgot your actual name already. Too many new people.” He winked, then paddled backward. “Try not to drown. I don’t get paid enough for lifeguard duty. Though I’d look great doing it. Sunglasses and everything.”
The rest of the lesson blurred. Gojo flirted shamelessly with everyone. He told the honeymoon wife her form was “elegant as hell” and fake-pouted when her husband splashed him. He called the California guys “bro” every other sentence and pretended to steal one of their boards. With you, the teasing kept coming. After your third fall he yelled from twenty feet away, “Nice splash! You training for the Olympics or just showing off for me? Wait, don’t answer that—I already know it’s the second one.”
You wanted to throw your board at his head. Instead you paddled harder and ignored him, muttering under your breath about cocky instructors who talked too much.
After the last wave, everyone dragged their boards back to shore. Your legs felt like jelly. Sand caked your knees and there was a suspicious amount of it in your bikini top. Gojo tossed you a faded blue towel from the pile near the shack. It hit you square in the chest.
“Dry off before you attract every crab on the beach,” he said. Then, without asking, he reached over and tugged the strings of your bikini top tighter. “This thing’s loose. Don’t need any wardrobe malfunctions on my watch. I’ve seen enough of those this season.”
Your face heated. “I can tie my own—”
“Clearly not tight enough,” he interrupted, already stepping back. “There. Now you won’t flash the tourists. You’re welcome, city girl.”
The group dispersed slowly. You sat on the sand, wringing out your hair, when Gojo dropped down beside you holding two plastic cups of shaved ice from the nearby stand. He had sauce on his shirt from something he’d eaten earlier, and his cap was on crooked.
“Peace offering,” he said, shoving the red one toward you. “Cherry for the newbie who ate the most waves today. Don’t say I never did anything nice.”
You took it, the cold cup instantly numbing your fingers. “Thanks. You don’t have to—”
“I know.” He spooned a massive bite of blue ice into his mouth and spoke around it. “But you looked like you were about to melt. Or cry. Or both. Figured sugar would help. Plus I already paid for it so don’t waste it. I’m not made of money, you know.”
The second lesson started late because Gojo showed up fifteen minutes after the scheduled time, half a breakfast burrito in one hand and sauce on his chin. “Traffic,” he mumbled around a bite, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving a smear. “Or maybe I hit snooze. Who remembers? My bad. Summer schedules, right?”
He spent the dry-land warm-up doing handstands for no reason, sand flying everywhere. “Watch this!” he yelled, then immediately toppled over laughing. Sand went everywhere, including into your water bottle. You snorted despite yourself.
“Child,” you said, shaking your bottle.
“Proud of it,” he replied, upside down for a second before collapsing. He shook sand out of his hair like a dog. Some of it landed on your leg. “Your turn, surfer girl. Impress me with those city moves.”
“No thanks. I’m trying to survive the actual surfing part. And you got sand in my drink.”
In the water he was still talking too much. Every time you wiped out he had a comment ready. “That one had style! Too bad style doesn’t keep you on the board. Maybe next time aim for the wave instead of the sandbar.” One joke about your paddling form landed so flat that the honeymoon husband winced and changed the subject. You paddled away and focused on the waves instead, wondering why you’d signed up for this when you had two whole months to fill.
After that lesson the group stuck around for a beach bonfire someone had mentioned. Gojo helped stack the wood, mostly by handing pieces to other people while he talked nonstop about his worst student stories. Sparks popped against the darkening sky. The college guys passed around snacks from a cooler. You sat on a log, legs sandy, picking at a bag of chips and trying to brush off the grit that kept sticking to your thighs.
Gojo plopped down next to you, closer than necessary, his knee bumping yours. “Not bad today, rookie. You stayed up longer on that last one. Almost looked like you knew what you were doing.”
“Yeah, until I didn’t.” You brushed sand off your calf, then reached for another chip.
He shrugged, then reached over and pressed a cold can of soda against the back of your neck without warning. You jumped at the chill. “Brain freeze prevention,” he said casually. “You seemed off after that third fall. Work emails again? Or just tired of my amazing instruction? Teachers get summers off, right? Lucky.”
You nodded, taking the can when he finally handed it over. The cold felt good against your skin. Across the fire, the watch lady was struggling to open a stubborn bag of marshmallows. Gojo hopped up immediately, nearly tripping over the log. “Here, let me. These things hate everyone.” He tore it open with his teeth, spilling a few into the sand, then helped her skewer a few on a stick. The lady laughed and thanked him. He waved it off like it was nothing and sat back down, wiping his hands on his already messy shorts.
You watched him for a moment—the easy way he’d jumped in even after forgetting half the group’s names earlier, the way he launched right back into a dumb story about a tourist who tried to surf with a GoPro attached to his forehead and nearly lost it to a wave. He kept talking, forgetting a detail midway and backtracking, but the story still landed. Something clicked as you listened. Not the jokes or the confidence. Just him helping without making a big deal out of it, even while covered in sand and burrito sauce. You looked away, took a long sip of soda, and passed the bag of chips his way instead of saying anything.
Lesson three was the rainy one. Light drizzle turned the sand dark and the water choppier. Gojo showed up on time for once, but his board shorts had a new mystery stain down the side. “Don’t ask,” he said when you glanced at it. “I tripped carrying coffee this morning. Forgot the lid. Classic me.”
Everyone wanted to cancel but he talked them into one short session. “Come on, it builds character. Or pneumonia. One of the two. What’s a little rain between friends? You teachers deal with worse every day, right?” You fell more than usual. One wipeout left you with a minor scrape on your knee from the board’s fin. Gojo had you sit on the sand under the shelter of the rental shack while he dug through the first aid kit, muttering about how he always forgot where he put the good bandages.
“It’s barely anything,” you protested, wiping water from your face.
“Still.” He crouched in front of you, antiseptic wipe in hand. His touch was light, almost careful. “Don’t want it getting infected. Then you’d blame me and never come back for more of my top-tier teaching.” He blew on the spot gently to dry the wipe, then stuck a bandage on it. “There. Battle wound. Makes you look hardcore, princess. Just don’t tell the others I played doctor or they’ll all want one.”
“Thanks, Doctor Gojo.”
He laughed. “Don’t get used to it. I forget half my own stuff anyway.” He patted his pockets, realized he’d left his own towel back at the shack, and used the hem of his shirt to wipe his hands instead, leaving a wet streak across his stomach.
After the lesson the rain eased up. Most of the group headed out, but you and Gojo ended up walking toward a food truck a short distance down the beach. “I’m starving,” he announced, kicking a piece of driftwood ahead of him. “Burrito guy owes me after yesterday’s mess. I left my wallet there last week and he held it for me like a saint.”
You went along. The truck had tacos. Gojo ordered way too much—three for himself, plus extras—and then insisted on paying for yours when you reached for your wallet. “Instructor discount,” he claimed, even though the guy behind the counter just rolled his eyes and muttered something about Gojo always saying that. You sat at a rickety picnic table under a faded umbrella, eating while waves crashed nearby. He talked nonstop—about a bad wipeout from last season where he lost his board for two hours, about forgetting his keys in the surf shack twice this month, about how the honeymoon couple asked him for couple’s surf tips that were definitely not appropriate. You laughed despite the stress still lingering from wrapping up school emails before the trip. He noticed your quieter mood and launched into an even dumber story about the time he tried to teach a group of kids and ended up wearing a floatie as a hat until one of them cried laughing. Your taco nearly fell apart in your hands from laughing.
The next lessons passed quicker, with the group slowly thinning as people’s vacations ended. Gojo remained equal parts chaos and competence. He was late again once, showing up with the half-eaten burrito and complaining about forgetting his phone charger. He still teased, though less constantly now. “Nice recovery, trouble,” he’d say after a decent ride. The hand on your waist during stance checks became routine. He stole your sunscreen again but actually applied it properly this time, thumbs pressing into the tight spots between your shoulder blades without comment. The towel toss after every session stayed the same—sometimes missing and forcing you to chase it across the sand while he laughed.
One afternoon after the group had mostly cleared out, Gojo suggested grabbing shaved ice and walking the beach path instead of heading straight back. “Not a big deal,” he said, already heading toward the stand. “I’ve got nowhere to be and you look like you could use the extra sugar before the ferry. Plus I forgot my water bottle again, so I need something cold. Teachers probably have all kinds of summer plans, huh?”
You agreed. It wasn’t called a date. You just walked side by side, cups melting in your hands, stopping once so he could tie his shoe and complain about the sand getting everywhere in his shorts. He pointed out a crab scuttling sideways and made a bad joke about it being a better surfer than half the beginners he’d had that week. You kicked sand at him. He kicked some back, missing widely because he was distracted waving at a kid building a castle nearby. The kid’s mom looked stressed, juggling a cooler and a phone call. Gojo wandered over for a second, showed the boy how to pack the sand tighter for a taller tower, then returned like it was nothing, brushing his hands off on his shorts.
“Kid had the right idea,” he said, spooning more ice. “Build big, fall big. Kinda like your first few days out there.”
You rolled your eyes but kept walking. The path wound past some rental houses, and Gojo kept up a running commentary on random things—forgetting midway through a story about a local food spot and starting over. The shaved ice dripped down your wrist, sticky and cold. You wiped it on your towel, which he’d tossed at you earlier. By the time you reached the end of the path, the sun was lower and your legs were tired in that good way. He didn’t say much about the next lesson, just mentioned the time and waved as you headed toward the ferry dock.
A couple more lessons followed the same loose pattern. Gojo showed up late one day with wet hair from an early morning swim he’d decided to take on impulse. During one session he spent half the time in the water chasing after a loose board that got away, cursing loudly enough that a nearby family gave him dirty looks. “My bad!” he called back to them, then turned to you with a grin. “See? Even the ocean thinks I talk too much. What do they teach you in school about dealing with loudmouths?”
You were getting better though. Standing up on more waves, riding them farther. He noticed, adjusting your stance with that familiar hand on your waist. “Weight back a little, rookie. There you go.” After one solid ride, he met you on the shore with a cold can of soda, pressing it against your arm this time instead of your neck. “Not bad. You’re sticking around longer than I thought you would. Two months of summer? You planning to turn pro by the end?”
One evening after a decent lesson, the two of you ended up at the food truck again, this time splitting a basket of fries because he’d forgotten his wallet but the guy knew him. You sat at the same picnic table, watching the waves, while he rambled about a surf competition he’d entered last year and placed dead last in because he showed up late. You kicked his foot under the table when he exaggerated the story. He kicked back, laughing, then complained about the fries getting cold too fast.
The sun was still high most days, and there were plenty more lessons lined up across your two months off. You started taking the ferry more regularly, packing extra snacks in your bag that sometimes ended up shared when Gojo forgot lunch. He remained forgetful—leaving the first aid kit open one day, losing track of whose towel was whose—but the teasing mixed with those small things that kept you showing up. Sand stuck to your legs after every session. The sunscreen he borrowed without asking. The way he’d toss your towel and miss half the time, forcing you to chase it while he pretended not to notice.
Another afternoon, after the group was basically just you and a couple stragglers, Gojo stuck around longer than usual. The lesson ran a bit over because he got distracted showing off a trick to the remaining college guy. You helped gather the boards, and he tossed you yours with a grin. “See? Teamwork. Or whatever.”
You ended up grabbing drinks from a nearby stand—cold sodas again—and sitting on the sand a little farther down the beach where it was quieter. He stretched out, complaining about forgetting to bring his hat today and how the sun was going to kill him. You passed him the extra snack you’d packed, some chips, and he took them without hesitation, talking about a funny parent email he imagined teachers got during summer break. The conversation wandered—him forgetting the name of a local spot, you mentioning a chaotic field trip story from last school year. Nothing big happened. Just sand on your calves, the occasional kick at each other’s feet, and him spilling half his soda when he laughed too hard at his own dumb joke.
The summer stretched on, with more days ahead on the island. You headed back to the ferry that evening with wet hair and sandy flip-flops, already thinking about the next trip over. There was still more than a month left of your break, plenty of time for more wiped-out rides, more shaved ice, and whatever else came with showing up for lessons.
No one would have been able to resist him.
A few weeks into the classes, with the original group mostly scattered back to their real lives, new faces kept showing up. A pair of retirees from Texas who wanted to try something new before their cruise, three high school kids on a family trip who spent more time laughing than paddling, and a solo traveler from Seattle who kept asking Gojo for tips on the best poke spots. It kept things from feeling too quiet on the sand. Gojo still ran the sessions the same way—late half the time, talking too much, tossing towels that missed by a mile—but now there were fresh people for him to tease.
You were getting decent on the board by then. Not great, but you could ride most beginner waves without eating sand every time. Gojo noticed, of course he did. His hand on your waist during stance checks lingered a beat longer. The teasing had shifted too, lower voices when no one else was close, dumb jokes that felt aimed just at you.
It started after one lesson when the new group had cleared out. You were rinsing off at the outdoor shower near the shack, water cold against your shoulders. Gojo leaned against the post, watching with that stupid grin. “Not bad out there, trouble. Almost looked like a real surfer instead of a teacher on summer break.”
“Almost?” You shut off the water and grabbed your towel.
“Yeah. Still paddle like you’re grading papers.” He stepped closer, sand stuck to his legs, and tugged the towel out of your hands to drape it over your shoulders himself. His fingers brushed your collarbone. Neither of you said anything for a second. Then he tilted his head toward the rocks down the beach. “C’mon. Before the next group shows up.”
Behind the rocks, where the tide pools hid you from the main stretch, it happened fast. His mouth on yours, tasting like the cherry shaved ice he’d split with you earlier. The rocks were rough against your back but you didn’t care. Gojo’s hands were everywhere—sliding under the wet bikini top he’d tied too tight that morning, pulling the strings loose with one tug. “Been wanting to do this since you showed up looking all city-girl annoyed,” he muttered against your neck, voice rough.
You laughed, breathless, and yanked at his board shorts. “You’re still annoying.”
“Good. Means you’ll keep coming back.” He lifted you against the rock, one hand steady on your thigh. It was quick and messy, salt on your skin, his laugh turning into a groan when you bit his shoulder. Sand got everywhere. Afterward you both sat there catching your breath, his arm loose around you while waves lapped nearby. He tossed your towel at your face like always. “Don’t say I never clean up after class.”
That became the pattern. Lessons during the day with the rotating crew of new students—Gojo showing off for the high school kids, helping the retirees with their balance in that sneakily kind way that still got to you—then sneaking off after. Sometimes right there behind the rocks if the timing worked. Other times you took the ferry back together and ended up at the little apartment you’d rented for the summer, a studio with a view of the harbor and a bed that creaked under both of you.
One afternoon after a rainy session like the old days, the new group bailed early. Gojo drove you to your place in his beat-up Jeep, windows down, complaining the whole way about forgetting his keys again. “Left them in the shack. Again. You’d think I’d learn after the third time.”
Inside the apartment it was slower. He pushed you against the kitchen counter first, hands on your waist like he was correcting your stance, only this time his fingers dipped under your shorts. “You looked good out there today,” he said, mouth on your jaw. “Steady. Made me want to skip the rest of the lesson.”
You hooked a leg around him, pulling him closer. “Then stop talking and do something about it.”
He did. Lifted you onto the counter, dropping to his knees right there with the fridge humming behind him. His tongue worked you over until your fingers were in his white hair, tugging hard. When he stood up again, board shorts shoved down, he fucked you right on the edge, one hand braced beside you, the other gripping your hip. The cold can of soda from your fridge pressed against your neck at one point—he grabbed it mid-thrust and held it there, grinning when you shivered. “Brain freeze prevention, remember?”
You came hard, legs shaking, and he followed right after, messy and loud like everything else he did. Afterward you both ended up on the couch, half-dressed, sharing the rest of the soda while sand from your legs dusted the cushions. He rambled about a dumb tourist story from that morning, forgetting the punchline halfway through. You kicked his foot and he kicked back, laughing.
His penthouse was different. A few nights later he talked you into staying over instead of taking the last ferry. The place was nicer than you expected—big windows overlooking the water, but messy as hell. Boards leaned against the wall, empty soda cans on the counter, a towel draped over the couch like he’d forgotten it there days ago.
“Welcome to my palace,” he said, kicking clothes out of the way. “Don’t judge the decor. I’ve been busy.”
You didn’t judge. The place was a mess—surfboards propped against the wall, empty soda cans on the nightstand, a pile of board shorts and towels on the floor—but the second the door shut you were on each other. Gojo backed you straight into his bedroom, hands already shoving your bikini top up, mouth latching onto one tit while he palmed the other roughly. “Fuck, these have been teasing me all day under that top,” he muttered, sucking hard enough to leave a dark mark right where your bikini would hide it tomorrow.
He pushed you down onto the unmade bed, sheets already tangled from whenever he’d last slept. You yanked his board shorts down, his cock springing free, hard and leaking at the tip. Gojo grinned that cocky grin as he pinned your wrists above your head with one hand. “Look at me,” he ordered when your eyes fluttered shut, sliding into you in one slow, deep thrust. You were soaked from the day’s tension, and he groaned loud as your pussy clenched around him. “That’s it, trouble. So fucking tight for your annoying instructor.”
He fucked you like that for a long time—slow and deliberate at first, hips rolling deep so his cock dragged against that spot inside you with every stroke. His free hand slid down to pinch your nipple, then moved lower to rub your clit in tight circles. You arched up, legs wrapping around his waist, but he held you right where he wanted, controlling the pace. “Say it,” he teased, voice low and rough as he ground against you. “Who’s the best instructor on this whole fucking island?”
“You’re the only one, idiot,” you gasped, trying to move your hips faster.
He laughed, dark and filthy, then flipped you over onto your stomach without pulling out. He gripped your ass with both hands, spreading you open as he started pounding harder. The wet slap of skin filled the room, his balls hitting your clit with every thrust. “Fuck yes, take it just like that. Been thinking about this pussy since you fell off that board the first day.” He reached around to rub your clit again, fast and rough, while his other hand fisted in your hair. You came hard, crying out into the mattress, pussy pulsing around his cock. Gojo didn’t stop, fucking you through it until your legs shook.
He pulled out, flipped you onto your back again, and shoved your legs up toward your chest. He thrust back in deep, hips snapping. Sweat dripped down his chest as he railed you, talking the whole time like he couldn’t help it. “Gonna fill this cunt up. You’re gonna feel me leaking out of you on the ferry tomorrow.” A few more brutal thrusts and he came with a groan, burying himself deep as he spilled inside you. He stayed there a minute, cock twitching, before pulling out and watching his cum drip from your pussy with a satisfied smirk.
You both collapsed, sweaty and spent, his arm slung over you while he complained about the sand still stuck to his back. “Found some in my ass crack earlier. Your fault.”
Even his car wasn’t off limits. One evening after a long lesson with the new retirees asking endless questions, Gojo pulled you into the Jeep parked behind the shacks. “Quick one before you ferry out,” he said, already tugging you into the back seat. It was cramped and ridiculous—your knee hit the door, his elbow knocked the seat—but he made it work, yanking your bikini bottoms aside and pulling you onto his lap.
His cock slid into you in one go, your pussy still slick from earlier thoughts about him. “Bet those Texas folks think I’m just giving extra pointers,” he grunted, hands on your ass guiding you up and down. “If only they knew I was balls deep in my favorite student.” The windows fogged fast as you rode him hard, the car rocking with every bounce. He sucked marks onto your tits, one hand slipping between you to rub your swollen clit until you were biting his shoulder to stay quiet. “Cum on my cock like a good girl,” he growled. You did, clenching tight around him. He followed right after, filling you up again with a low curse.
Afterward he wiped you both down with a random shirt from the floor, then drove you to the dock with his hand on your thigh, whistling like nothing happened.
The hooking up didn’t change the daytime stuff much. New students kept the lessons lively. The high school kids thought Gojo was hilarious when he did his handstand fails. One of the retirees brought extra snacks and shared them during breaks. Gojo still stole your sunscreen, still pressed cold drinks to your skin after hot sessions, still called you trouble or rookie when others could hear. But now there were these stolen moments—behind rocks with quick, desperate fucks where he covered your mouth so no one heard you moan; in your apartment where he stayed late and left his board shorts on your floor; in his messy penthouse where you woke up to him burning toast the next morning; in the car where everything felt urgent and stupid and perfect.
One afternoon with the group thinned to just you and the Seattle guy for a bit, Gojo kept the lesson short. Afterward he grabbed your hand and pulled you behind the rocks again. This time he bent you over a smooth boulder, yanking your bottoms down and thrusting into you from behind while waves crashed close enough to spray mist on your skin. His hand snaked around to rub your clit fast, mouth on your shoulder biting down. “Good girl, squeezing my cock so fucking tight,” he muttered when you came hard, clenching around him. He pulled out and finished on your back in thick stripes, then used your towel to clean it up, tossing it at you with a grin.
Back at the apartment that night it was lazier. You both showered together first, water running over sand and salt. He washed your hair without being asked, fingers careful, but it didn’t stay innocent long. He fucked you against the shower wall, your leg hooked over his hip, pounding deep until the water ran cold and you came again with his name on your lips. In bed after, he was half-asleep, arm around your waist, muttering something about forgetting to set an alarm for tomorrow’s lesson.
The summer kept going, weeks blending with lessons, new faces rotating in and out, and these hookups that left you sore in the best way. Gojo remained Gojo—late, messy, overconfident, talking too much—but you kept showing up anyway.
You zipped up the last duffel bag on the apartment floor, the sound loud in the quiet studio. Gojo sat on the edge of the unmade bed, legs kicked out, watching you like he was trying to memorize the way you folded your towels. The same faded blue one from the surf shack was stuffed in there somewhere, still smelling faintly of ocean and sunscreen.
“Two and a half months,” he said, not for the first time. “Every damn day. And now you’re just… packing.”
You didn’t look up right away. Your hands kept moving, shoving flip-flops into the side pocket. “Summer’s over, Satoru. I’ve got lesson plans due next week. Kids don’t care that I learned to stand on a board.”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, white hair messy from the wind earlier. “Yeah, well. I got used to you showing up. Even when you were terrible at popping up. Especially when you were terrible.”
You finally glanced over. His usual grin was missing. He looked like a kid who’d lost his favorite toy—slouched, one foot tapping the floor. You sat on the bed next to him, shoulder bumping his. “I’ll come back. Teachers get three weeks at Christmas. And next summer’s already booked in my head. Maui again. Same stupid lessons.”
He snorted, but it sounded forced. “You better. Who else is gonna chase my towel when I miss the toss?” His hand found yours, fingers lacing tight. “I’m gonna be bored as hell. New groups every week, all of them asking dumb questions. No one to call me an idiot after I forget the first aid kit again.”
You squeezed back, throat tight. The last few weeks had been a blur of lessons with whoever showed up—more retirees, some honeymooners, a bachelor party that Gojo mocked relentlessly—and stolen time in between. Behind the rocks, in his Jeep, in this apartment where the bed still creaked from last night. Now it was quiet. Just the hum of the fridge and the distant harbor noise.
“I’m not exactly thrilled either,” you said, leaning into him. “Honolulu’s gonna feel small after this.”
Gojo pulled you closer, arm around your waist like he did during stance checks. “Stay one more night. Ferry tomorrow instead.”
“You said that yesterday.” You turned your head and kissed his jaw. “And the day before.”
He sighed, dramatic as always, but stood up anyway. “Fine. But I’m driving you to the airport. No arguments. And I’m stealing one of your sodas for the road.”
The drive was mostly quiet. Gojo’s Jeep rattled over the roads, windows down, his hand on your thigh like always. He complained about forgetting his sunglasses, then about the traffic, then about how the next instructor rotation was some guy who talked even more than him. You let him ramble, watching the island scenery slide by. Every now and then he’d squeeze your leg, like he was checking you were still there.
At the airport drop-off, he parked illegally for a minute, hazards on. You grabbed your bags from the back while he hovered. “Text when you land. And when you unpack. And when you remember how much you miss my shaved ice.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled. “I will. Promise. Christmas break, okay? I’ll book the ferry or whatever.”
He nodded, then cupped your face with both hands and kissed you. It wasn’t quick. Deep and a little desperate, his thumb brushing your cheek. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “Don’t forget the instructor who taught you to surf. Or whatever.”
“Hard to forget.” You kissed him once more, quick, then stepped toward the doors. He watched until you were inside, hands in his pockets, that sad-slouch still there. You didn’t turn around again until security, and by then the Jeep was gone.
Two months later, you trudged up the stairs to your Honolulu apartment, keys jingling. The school day had been long—parent conferences, a kid puking in class, endless grading. Your shoulders ached like after a bad wipeout. All you wanted was a cold drink and to kick off your shoes.
The door across the hall was propped open. Movers carried in a surfboard and a pile of random junk—empty cans, towels, a familiar backward cap. You stopped, staring.
Gojo stepped out, wiping his hands on his shorts, white hair sticking up. He spotted you and grinned like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. “Hey, new neighbor. Took you long enough to get home from work."
You blinked, bags slipping off your shoulder. “What the hell?”
“Surprise.” He leaned against the doorframe, messy as ever. “Penthouse was too quiet without you yelling at me for being late. Figured Honolulu needed a surf instructor. Or at least one annoying one. Lease is month-to-month, so don’t get any ideas about me being permanent or whatever.”
You stood there, heart doing something stupid. The hallway smelled like his sunscreen already. “You moved here? For real?”
He shrugged, but his eyes were bright. “Had to. Couldn’t wait till Christmas. Plus, I forgot my favorite towel in your bag. Needed an excuse to see you every day again.” He kicked a box aside. “Come on. Help me unpack before I lose my keys in here. Then I’ll make you a shitty toast dinner like old times.”
You laughed despite the long day, crossing the hall. Sand from his shoes already dusted the floor. “You’re still impossible.”
“Yeah, but you like it.” He tugged you inside by the wrist, door clicking shut behind you. The summer might be over, but this—whatever it was—clearly wasn’t.
Synopsis- You tell your fuck buddy Toji you wanna try something new and crazy (sexually) but he comes up with absolute bullshit that you would've never guessed.
Warnings- HardDom!Toji, Camgirl!reader, Psychological exhibition(Pseudo-exhibition), sex on stream, clit play, edging, humiliation, orgasm denial, rough sex, slight praise kink, verbal degradation, sensory deprivation, blindfold, handcuffs, fingering, overstimulation, au (no curses), exhibitionism, pet names, claiming.
AC-RocnirWarrior
Word Count- 1.4k
A cold breeze blows harshly against your naked skin. You hear the rushed sound of the city and chirping of birds, so distinctly. Are you outside? Where the fuck has Toji brought you. What the fuck is he planning? Your mind is racing.
Nothing but empty darkness surrounds you. At least that's how it looks. You’re blindfolded, with your arms bound by cold handcuffs, clenching your wrists. Sitting on the cold seat of a chair pressed against you. Tilting with every gust of wind.
You can tell you are balancing on something. Your senses feel like they're incredibly heightened. You’re taking in every sensation down to a chemical level. Hyper aware of everything around you.
Every feeling, every smell is potent. You’re completely at Toji’s mercy. You told him you wanted to try something spontaneous, this wasn’t what you had in mind at all.
But you will admit… This feeling of risk is enthralling. Your heart is beating so fast. It too is trying to process this inebriating moment.
“T-Toji…Where the fuck a-are we??”
“Shhh..Stop shaking. You don't wanna fall, do you?”
This is nothing but fun for him. Taunting you that is. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
You’re so scared you might fall, you don't want to move an inch. But maybe you’re daring enough to test him. You lift up your foot slowly. Your heart feels like it will pop out of your chest. You accidentally kick him.
Big fucking mistake.
“Oh- Was that-” Interrupting you, he grabs and jerks your leg aggressively. Shaking you and the chair. “Be careful. I could drop you right now and not give a fuck after.” He says sternly.
You can’t see him. But you can tell he’s not joking anymore. “Please just answer me at least...” You ask but you know he won’t. He likes seeing you bend at his will. The way you obey his every word. That's why you’re his favorite toy. You just can’t get enough of him.
Suddenly you hear the high pitch chime of a stream starting. “Look how amazing she looks guys.” There is no way he's doing what you think he is. You scoff in disbelief.
“Haa- Toji.. what the fuck are you doing...?”
You can feel him breathing against your ear. Taking in the sound his lips parting as he smiles and whispers,
“I’m only doing what you asked for, doll. We’re gonna put on an amazing show.”
That rich, slick, seductive tone of his. That, along with the position you’re in sends a shiver through you. You feel an internal heat as your heart drops. But this feeling isn't fear… No, it's something far from it. A dark, perverse sense of pleasure. So, why not give them a show?
His thick fingers trail up your thigh. Pressing down and gripping your skin as he spreads your legs. Blowing against your skin to mess with your sensory perception. Toying with you.
He grazes his fingers up the slit of your pussy. Making sure the camera catches every second of this. You’re dripping just from the rush of being with him.
“She’s already so excited, guys. What a slut you are.”
He’s smirking with every word. Not that you can see it though. You just know it.
He traces slow controlled circles around your clit. Creating a pestering wave of warmth building in your sweet spot. “Nnghh…” A moan escapes your lips as he plays with your begging clit. Further igniting whatever flame you’ve sparked in this man.
His fingers slip into you with a heavy stroke. Thrusting in and out of you and curving his fingers upwards so they hit your sweet spot perfectly.
He wants to hear those pretty moans of yours. That begging is what he craves oh so much.
“Tsk… You better quiet down before someone hears you and comes looking.”
Laughing as he finger fucks you without pity. The feeling of his fingers going in out of you feels so good, you almost forgot where you were. As if you even know. All you have is an assumption.
“Ugnhh…Fuuck..”
You instinctively try to cover your mouth forgetting that your hands are secured.
“Haha.. How pathetic. Awww poor baby.”
He laughs as you squirm under his control. You're trying to contain your moans with no real hope of succeeding.
How can someone be so alluring yet so callous and calculating? But you can’t help it... You love the way he bends you at his will. You’ve never felt more alive than at this moment.
“Toji- Ngnhh...”
You feel a heavy pressure swelling inside of you, spreading all over your body. He stops as soon as you’re about to cum. Like he knows just from the way your pussy clenches.
“You don’t get to cum until I say so”
This man is a tyrant. He’s indirectly controlling your every move and you love it.
His fingers start picking up pace. Being sucked in and out of your sopping pussy. You can hear the constant notification chime of more views and gifts from the stream. Reminding you that you have thousands of eyes captivated and fixed on you.
“All these people watching. All here for you… My perfect girl.”
The thought of his words and being watched like this. The way your body is being pushed to the brink of ecstasy every second. This rush of adrenaline and pleasure. This feeling is intoxicating. Suffocating in the best way.
Out of pure desperation you start grinding your hips along his fingers. “T-Toji…Pleeeaase…” Begging him for something he will only give you on his terms.
“Mhmm that's what I like to hear. One more time for our lovely viewer, then maybe I'll let you cum.”
“M’leeeaase… I’m beggiing you…”
Without warning his fingers slip out of you. The recognition of the bleak sound of traffic and notifications snaps you back to reality. Panting as your body adjusts to this lack of stimulation.
“I love how hard you’re trying for me.”
Did you genuinely think he’d let you finish so easily?
You hear him walk away so you take the moment to catch your breath. Suddenly you feel his hands scooping you. Carrying you with ease.
“This is what you wanted right?”
He rubs his leaking and throbbing tip on your clit. Making you jerk. Your body feels increasingly more sensitive than before. “Mmmf..” Suddenly, he rams his thick, rigid cock into you. A shallow gasp breaks out of you. “Fuck…” he groans as he plumits into your tight pussy.
You can feel his cock pulsing with every deep stroke. Hitting every sweet part of your walls and making you clench tighter around him. You start grabbing at the air reflexively as he fucks mindless. The same way you’d clench the bed sheets when he’s inside you.
“Now tell the people who you belong to.”
“Mgnhh…T-oji..”
“Good girl…”
He slams you down on his cock. Brushing your bobbing cervix. His thumb softly massages your puffy clit methodically. “Haa…so good..” You moan. It's like every sound you make is an airborne aphrodisiac for him. You can tell he’s losing control.
His cock feels like it's getting stiffer inside of you. Pulsing with every glide. Sending strikes of bliss through you. Your body is trembling as your moans fill the space. Your hips jerk with every motion.
“Go ahead and cum for me baby.”
The lovely magic words.
His raspy breath is quickening along with his strokes. The moans coming out of him are like a drug. The sound of his hips smacking against yours is getting so much louder as he pounds. It feels like it's echoing. You can feel every twitch coming from his thick cock.
Your head whips back as your muscles strain and tense up. You feel yourself hyperventilating. Every single sound you’ve heard up until this point feels muffled.
A wave of pure euphoria washes over you. Finally cumming all over his cock as he pours into you. Your mind feels so cloudy and your body feels more than weak.
His thrusts are getting disorganized while his grip on you tightens. You can feel his hot cum leaking out as he fucks you sloppily.
“Let me see that pretty face of yours…”
He finally removes your blindfold. Your eyes flutter, painfully trying to adapt to the harsh light. As your vision focuses you realize… There's no city traffic, no birds, no real wind. You’re not outside at all. You’re in his damn basement. With his computer and a big ass fan acting as “the outside”.
Your eyes widen.
“What. the. fuc--”
He rams into you with a smirk as big as his ego. Flicking his head back.
toji fushiguro has your body naked in front of the mirror and his warm hands groping your hips. he lets his pinky slide up your puffy, wet slit—just a graze, just over your clit—and he doesn’t let your eyes leave the mirror as he draws back his pinky dripping with your slick.
“go on, princess,” he rasps into your neck. “m’listening.”
but he’s not just listening. your boyfriend is still in his boxers—unfair, really, because you’re clad in nothing & the room is too warm & your thighs are trembling from both the heat and the pressure. he wraps himself around you and slides his hands up to your tits. he gropes your breast once and lets his hands fall away.
your mouth dries. “i can’t.”
but your hips are bucking into him. rolling against his clothed cockhead as your pussy drools from the anticipation. toji laughs, chest warm against your back as he pinches your clit, forcing your hips to stutter & a whine to leave your lips. “y’got a pretty mouth, dollface. wanna hear you use it.”
in the mirror your thighs are still aching, chest heaving, and toji fushiguro has slipped his cock out of his shorts. you’re not sure you heard his waistband snap but his cock is there, flushed and swollen and dripping with precum.
"you see that ?" he murmurs, breath hot against your neck as he pumps himself in his fist all heavy & slow. "see what you do to me, sweetheart? standing there all pretty and wet?”
he lets the soaked head tap against your ass—once, twice—before dragging it lower between your thighs, letting it slip through your slick folds without pushing inside. your pussy flutters at the teasing, & toji watches your chest heave in the mirror through bleary eyes.
"you want this?" he murmurs, cockhead nudging your throbbing folds from behind. "want my cock in this pussy, baby?” he lets his precum smear over the folds. “start talking.”
you swallow, eyes glazed with lust and hips stuttering as you force the courage to speak. “i…i have nice tits.”
“breasts,” toji growls into your neck. “breasts, dollface. say it properly.”
your thighs squeeze. your eyes are teary when you look in the mirror, face flushed, tits heaving. "i have nice breasts."
"mmh," toji slides a palm up your side. he lets his thumb brush against your aching nipple, before twisting and stretching the pebbled peak between his fingers. you arch into him on instinct. "so nice, dollface. and what else? look at this pussy in the mirror, baby. tell me all about it."
his thumb presses into your clit. but then he slides it away.
you moan, loud, slick dripping down your thighs. toji’s cock twitches against your ass, but clearly he’s got the self control of a god.
your lashes are tear rimmed. “i have—i have a pretty pussy!”
“so pretty,” he murmurs, tugging your clit before pressing his thumb against it, rubbing slow circles over the bud. “prettiest pussy i’ve ever fucking seen. so wet and noisy for me. tell me more, sweetheart.”
“my pussy is so tight,” you rasp, breathless and hips twitching as toji rubs his thumb against the sensitive bud. “hnngh—so tight and wet for you, toji.”
"yeah?" he murmurs against your ear. his cock nudges your slick folds, pulsing and throbbing at the entrance. "love this fucking pussy, you know that?"
you can only whimper in response.
"love how puffy it is," he continues, dragging his swollen cockhead up your slit, only to drag it down again. "love how it tries to swallow me. see that, baby? see how it slobbers all over my cock?” he pushes his swollen head in as your cunt flutters around him. “fucking perfect.”
“toji—“ you gasp, “please—“
“please what?” he growls, pushing his hips into you. his thick cock swells between your folds, pulsing and stretching your puffy cunt. “want me to play with this pussy, baby? fuck you so hard your tits bounce in the mirror?”
“mhm—“
“words, sweetheart.”
“want you to fuck me,” you gasp out, hips bucking back to chase his cockhead and push him deeper into your folds. “want you to play with my pussy and fuck me till i’m dripping—“
“fuck,” toji groans, slamming into you, hard. “thaaaat’s my fucking girl. see how easy it is to please me?”
▶︎︎ Southbound (starring . various jjk men & women)
synopsis . Mundane things you do that drive them craaaazy. pairings (separate) . Sukuna x f!reader, Gojo x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Toji x f!reader, Shoko x f!reader, Geto x f!reader, Yuki x f!reader.
content . afab!reader, some established relationships, modern au, dirty talk, pet names, feral men & women, creampies, pervy!choso, finger sucking, perversion, overstim, filth, spit, cock stepping, rough sex, they’re naaaasty & obsessed, jealousy here ‘n there, fingering, possessiveness, brat taming, oral sex, etc.
word count . 8.4k || author's note: based on a request i can't find (help lol)! (not proofread) & the banner art is by rororogi mogera <3
☆ Sukuna Ryomen — flipping him off.
The moment your finger flew up his way in an aggravated flare, you expected the usual annoyed grunt or two in response. Instead, Sukuna's entire attitude shifts and you think you see his eyes getting uncharacteristically softer on you. Well, not really soft but soft in the way that lets you know that man is not paying attention to a word you're saying anymore.
"—and I really can't believe you," You're continuing on, "It's the same shit every week, and I just don't think I can—are you even fucking listening to me?!" Your words seem to capture his attention for a second, but his eyes are mostly trained onto your hand.
A muscle in his jaw flexes ever so slightly before you spot the faint quirk in his lips, crimson eyes just barely managing to find your face again, "What?"
"Oh, so you weren't listening," You scoff, turning away from the man with a pronounced roll of your eyes. Then you flip him off a second time and attempt to walk away from him, "Yeah, I'm done with this. Fuck y—"
“How far down my throat do you think that finger of yours could reach?” Sukuna asks all too casually and too slowly for your liking.
To which you end up choking, the remainder of your tirade dying out in your throat with one stupidly dry swallow. Your hand steadily retracts from where it is in the air and you turn to look at him, “What.”
Yeah, you knew the guy had some… strange interest when you first started talking to him romantically but nothing could’ve prepared you for the boner he popped when your middle finger went waving his way.
That—paired with that weird ass question he asked—is exactly how you ended up watching your boyfriend suck those same fingers of yours with a dark look in his eyes while he fucked you from the side. He had a singular hand neatly perched against the curvature of your hip as his other held onto your wrist to keep your hand from falling away from him.
“Mmhmm, mmmph,” Sukuna purred deeply, lathering your shaky digits with a slicked glaze of his saliva and driving his long, aggravatingly hard cock in ‘n out of your leaky cunt.
Squelch after squelch after squelch and the man was an utter mess before you. You watched as sweat trickled all down from the pink tuffs of his hair, strands clinging to his forehead messily while he sucked at your hand.
Between your moans, you found your eyebrows scrunching up as you huffed, “Why are you into this—aanh-, shit. Right there… f-fuckin’ freak.”
He nearly swallows your fingers whole, sucking impossibly harder in reaction and letting your fingertips graze the very back of his throat like some deranged whore. Sukuna had always been one to kiss your hand whenever he was trying to be romantic with you but you didn't think that'd translate over to this.
“Sukuna,” You called out in a desperate attempt at tugging him out of that fucked-out state of his.
The mean smack of his balls against your skin echoed and bounced off the bedroom walls with loud plaps, mixing in and growing louder with the grunts he was letting out and your moans.
He suddenly drags your hand away from his mouth and lets his droopy saliva splatter out and fall onto the side of your exposed waist, “Fuck do you want? Can’t you see my mouth is busy, woman?”
Your lashes flutter lightly as an utterly appalled feeling wells up inside you, “I—“
Unfortunately for you and whatever complaints you were about to strew his way, you're promptly cut off by the sultry motion of his hips plowing on as if fucking you was too easy of a task for him to put all his attention into. Then Sukuna politely takes your fingers back into his mouth and you think you see a little gleam of satisfaction coating his ruby gaze.
You tried to go on and catch him off guard by curling your fingers, but that only earns a stingy spurt of cum from the head of his cock as he gags. Then his eyes fly back and he seems to suction his mouth to your fingers even harder. Almost like he wants you to keep doing that.
To which you crack a smile, “Y’like that, ‘Kuna?”
Your boyfriend nods his head in a near pathetic manner—a way of which only your eyes are meant to capture. His cock is still ploughing through your puffy folds, sure to leave your inner walls swollen and stuffed with him by the time he's done.
Especially if you continue to egg him on by tilting your head at him and barely pulling your fingers away from him so that his mouth could follow like some big, starving mutt. Shaking your head, “This is so gross. Hah, why are you drooling like that?”
Sukuna pulls your digits out of his mouth again but only to stick his freakishly lengthy tongue out and then give you a slutty display of him wrapping a bit of the muscle around your fingers. Then he plasters wettened kisses the tips of them, “You have a really pretty fuckin’ hand.” He unexpectedly compliments.
You watch as the man shifts to drag your saliva-coated digits down along the tense plane of his sharp abs, his hips having stilled for a mere second so you could feel how your touch caused his weeping cock to pump 'n twitch frantically all around your insides.
“Can’t expect me to focus when you go waving it around in my face," He explains through a shortened breath. You take it upon yourself to feel at more of his chest while he leans over and moves both of his hands to your leg, practically pinning your body in place so he can rapidly puncture his dick past the elasticity of your entrance. "All I can think about it how good you feel against me—any part of you.”
A smile is placed upon your lips just then, “Aw, that’s kind of romanti—“
“Especially when you start stroking the inches of my cock that haven’t made it inside you just yet," He groans at the memory of it and your hand had unintentionally met the firm dips of his v-line, causing every inch of his body to shudder violently against you.
Then you deadpan, “Okay, never mind.”
To which he flashes a smug smile your way, “Keh.”
What a weirdo.
☆ Gojo Satoru — sneezing.
This freak. When he’d muttered a strangely hoarse bless you after the sneeze you’d let out, you tried not to think much of it.
But it was a little difficult to do that when he started to stare at you afterwards, flaunting that look of his that explicitly tells you his mind has gone somewhere very dirty. You were lightly rubbing the back of your hand against the tip of your nose to ease the itching sensation that the sneeze of yours had left and yet your weird ass husband was spotted in the corner of your eye bitting his bottom lip.
You sneeze one time during sex and now the damn from you sound makes his dick stand up no matter the situation!
Apparently whenever you sneeze, you clench especially hard around him—hard enough to drive him absolutely insane.
The two of you were trying to do some late spring cleaning and ended up in your cozy little attic, the air tinged with dust due to the vacancy of this area of your home. So naturally you were prone to a sneeze or two.
Unfortunately for you, this gave Gojo the brightest idea of all time.
He now has you hoisted up in his large, grabby hands—fucking you stupid as he bounces you up and down the fidgety length of his flushed cock—and hoping that having sex in this specific part of your home will coax a sneeze or two out of you.
"You're so weird," The words muddled out of your mouth in an airless little laugh, your head falling forward against the firm plane of his shoulder as he readjusted the mean grip he had on your thighs.
Despite hearing you just fine and smiling, "Is there something you wanted to say, baby?" Gojo asks, breath coming out warm near your skin.
Your eyes roll. "I said-," His hips snap upward just to purposefully cut you off, his thickened shaft sprawling your weepy hole open all the more with his ever swift motion. "Nngh-, ‘said you're so weird."
His head turned just so that his lips could brush at the shivering shell of your ear, "And yet," Gojo's teeth bare out to graze over your skin teasingly, "You're the one squeezing my cock like you don't wanna let him go." He points out.
While that was more than true, you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of you admitting it when he's the same mane who got turned on from your sneezing.
The attic air was rather warm from the glowy sun outside, and dust particles floated around lazily through the slanted beams of warm rays creeping through the singular small window placed not too far away from where Gojo stood with you. Nearly every bit of forgotten furniture cluttered in the area was painted over with a thin layer of ashy gray.
It'd been quite some time since the two of you had been in here. Hell, you believe the last time you both visited your attic was back when you guys were still christening the house via fucking in every room.
Per his idea, by the way.
The wooden floorboards beneath Gojo's sturdy feet had creaked from the weight of both his body and you hauled up in his arms. Wet droplets of slick splattered down onto the floor just under you with his every other uneven thrust, and you found yourself holding onto him tighter as he suddenly picked up the pace.
The plan to clean the attic up flew out the window about three or so sneezes ago and now he was waiting for you to do the same while his dick was inside you. It shouldn't have been too hard.
"Y'know most h-husbands just say bless you 'n hand their wife a tissue when they sneeze," Your voice was a bit unsteady from the way he was moving inside you—balmy cockhead poking all around your cervix and just kissing at your inner sweet spot to get you all the more wet around him.
You felt his chest rumbling slightly against your tits as he chuckled deeply, "Mmmh, yeah. But most husbands probably aren't blessed with the—fuck, knowledge that their wife's pussy sucks on their cock every time she—"
"Ohmygod, don't say it," You whine, cringing slightly as you leaned away from him as best as you could to catch the expression he was making.
He looked far too proud of himself, "...lets out the cuuutest little—"
"Satoru." You cut off with a warning glare in your eyes.
He only ignores it to smile at you, hands shifting to hike your body up higher in the air. The sudden change in angle brought about stars behind your shutting eyelids, his cock dragging against that squishy spot inside you that had your toe curling.
It seemed as though this was a position he'd managed to perfect with the the way he had you perfectly suspended in the air as if you weighed nothing, your tits bobbing, and feet left to dangle uselessly as he used gravity and his freakish strength to fuck you exactly how he wanted.
Oh, he was getting that sneeze out of you again.
Your hands reached up a little to tangle your fingers into his hair, holding on and tugging at him sharply whenever his tip plucked into the tightest nook of your pussy.
Mouth left open and mixed breathy moans 'n pants pouring out of you, Gojo saw how he already had one part of his plan down so far—fucking you straight to tears like he always did.
"Admit it, sweetheart," His voice dipped a pitch lower and he sounded overly determined to get his way, "You love that I know this about you, that I pay attention."
"Mmph-, I think it's weird, 'Toru. I just said this," You counter, words lacking any sort of bite to them.
Gojo's lips quirk up and his lashes bat slightly as he feels your saccharine walls quivering around the base of his cock, his hips barely rocking your body up. "Riiight, and that's why you're drippin' all down my cock right now—because you think it's weird."
You pout at him, "You're so annoying."
"You love me, though. And you love this," He picks his pace right back up where he'd just barely left off, letting his the crowning tip of his cock swat nastily against your depths to tug something sluggishly slick out of you. "Love that your weirdo husband still thinks you're sexy even when you're blowing sno—"
"I'm gonna get dry if you keep this up," You lie as your fingernails slightly scrape against his scalp and you cling onto his body tighter.
His smile manages to get impossibly wider, "Hah, not with my cock inside you, you're not." Gojo says cockily. Then his brows scrunch up and his dick is felt twitching inside you, "Plus it's your fault I'm like this to begin with, you should've held your sneeze back when we were cockwarming that night."
With every thrust and every word that jumped out of his mouth, you were only finding yourself surprised by the things he was coming up with. Scoffing, "You're being ridiculous."
Gojo lets your little comment slide for the time being and begins to walk over towards one of the attic's dustiest corner. Your expression instantly begins to twist up and you could feel your breathing growing shallower as the prospect of a sneeze tickles at your nostrils.
You really didn't want to give him what he wanted just yet.
"Oh? Did your nose just twitch?" Gojo asks, tugging your body impossibly closer to his so that your tits were sandwiched against his firm chest.
His hips became relentless just then, making it even harder for you to breathe with the way he was mercilessly fucking the air right out of your lungs.
"N-No," You tried to gasp but he saw the way tears welled up in your eyes.
Smirking knowingly at you, "Nah, don't hold it back now. Let it out, sweet girl. C'monnn, I just wanna feel you clench around me again." His voice softens up on you and you let out a short breath.
"This is so weird 'n embarrassing," You're whining, cunt spasming around his jaggedly thrusting cock. He was getting more and more frantic with each second that passed.
"Is it?" Your husband taunted, eyes lighting up as he watched your face contort into an expression that told him you were on the verge of a sneeze. "Well, I think—"
He's cut off almost comically by his own body—the dust having gotten to his nose instead of yours and leading him right into a short sneeze. With it comes a harsh thrust from his hips as the crash against your skin and you feel his muscles clenching tightly before his balls begin to twitch.
And then he's cumming inside you like an idiot.
"Oh," You're gasping now as you smirk right back at him, "I think I'm starting to get the appeal now."
☆ Shoko Ieiri — putting on lipgloss.
It’s a simple thing you, and many other people in the world, do to add some shine to your lips and yet your perpetually overworked girlfriend can’t help but get worked up every time she sees you doing it.
Perhaps it’s because you’re hers that it drives her insane but fuck, something about watching that pretty translucent shade of gloss slip out across the gorgeous curves of your lips makes her mind run to the most sinful of places.
It always reminds her of her lips against yours—and no, not the ones on your face.
There's only one other thing she can think of that's as lustrous 'n pretty as your lips are after you put on lipgloss. And that other thing is the same thing she's spreading open now with the two meticulous pads of her thumbs.
Your pussy is quivering under her due to the way she's panting like she's on the verge of dehydration from not lapping at you fast enough. She watches the cute pucker and clench your hole makes around nothing as she does so—eyeing how slobbers of slick dribbles out of you and trails down to your other hole.
You always got so wet for her, she just couldn't get enough of it.
That, and what's better than eating out her pretty girl after a long day of work?
Shoko nearly moans after blowing some air over your cunt to watch the way it flinches in reaction. "So cute," She mutters gently, "And wet." Then she's sending a fat wad of spit towards your clit and letting it trickle downward to mix with the rest of your soaked glory.
You don't even get to say anything before she's diving right in. Hell, you're not sure what got into her in the first place. You were supposed to be heading out to do some shopping but in the midst of your getting ready, Shoko said she needed something from you beforehand.
You knew she was watching you get all dolled up but you didn't think she was getting turned on from it too.
Locking her lips onto your cunt, she darts the length of her tongue out and sloppily lathers the muscle with your taste before groaning. A moan of her name leaves your lips but she hardly hears it—the taste of you has her dazed already.
Truth be told, Shoko could eat you out for hours and never get tired. Which makes sense, of course. You were her favorite meal after all.
But one of the best parts about doing so now—after you'd recently applied lipgloss—is looking up to see the way your mouth flails open with drool slipping out to mix with it. She always had you a wet mess from every single hole and she loved it.
Considered herself obsessed with it, even.
You shoot a hand down to her hair and try to grab ahold of her, pathetically attempting to move or shift her mouth where you want it to be but ultimately failing. Shoko goes wherever she wants to, the area of desire being your clit at the current moment with the way she foes from those lengthy laps 'n licks to kissing and softly suctioning her mouth to your slobbering pussy.
"Fuck, I almost forgot how sweet this pussy gets," She comments gingerly, warm breath grinding out against your smeared-open folds. "All sensitive on my tongue, nnngh-, can't get enoughhh..."
Her eyes sealed shut for a moment and you saw how she smiled into your cunt, kissing and licking like she was drunk on you or something. Fairly enough, she always got like this when she ate you out but fuck if it didn't drive you just as crazy each time.
Shoko's lips cup around your clit and she pulls at the sensitive bundle of nerves, the tip of her tongue tickling you obscenely before she moans into you once more.
Your back arches up away from the bed and you're left gasping for the air that'd recently left your throat, "Sho—fuuuck, Shoko..."
Her smile widens slightly when she hears you moaning for her but that doesn't stop the nasty flicks of her tongue. Then it begins to twist in a sloppy manner and her hands maneuvered over to peel your pussy lips further apart. She only removes her mouth from you to glide it downwards and pluck her tongue directly into your hole.
A broken gasp jumps out of you and she watches the entire thing from in between your legs. Then her hips and thighs move to try 'n relive the ache she felt building up in between them, especially as she saw how much of a mess you'd been above her.
Your lipgloss had smeared down to your chin and the sight made her eyes widen. Then her mouth worked at your cunt harder, feasting on you like a woman absolutely and utterly starved. Something feral left her throat but you're not sure if it was a groan or a growl.
It was some type of husked sound that made you try to push at her head. Of which she shakes immediately, "Don't fuckin' push at me," Shoko demands, eyes glaring as they find yours, "Let me-, ah.. ruin you. C'mon, cutie, you can take it. S'just my tongue," She hums before dragging that very muscle around your entrance.
Your hands moved elsewhere and you instead tried to pull your body away from her, only to be cut off by her arms moving to wrap around your legs and yank you back towards her mouth.
She pops off of you and then spits meanly, following it up with a harsh smack to your cunt. "Try taking my pussy away from me again 'n see what happens," Shoko warns, "Don't move, take it—I only just started."
Gulp.
☆ Choso Kamo — putting on/taking off shoes.
No, he doesn’t have a foot fetish.
You had started to think your best friend was a little weird when he’d stare at your legs whilst you slipped out of or into your shoes. But, with the way he’s currently panting like some mutt against your thigh, you realize his odd staring had nothing to do with your feet specifically.
Instead, his unwavering gazes had everything to do with the jealousy he felt in his heart upon seeing you apply so much pressure onto your footwear instead of him. Weird, right?
Yeah, he’s aware. But fuck, sue him for wanting his best friend—who orders him around 24/7—to step on him a time or two!
Which you're finally doing now after catching the erection he managed to get just from helping you put your heels on.
In his defense, it was a gorgeous red pair of heels he couldn't wait to see you walking around in.
Also the same pair of heels he accidentally came on a week ago when he was jerking off in your closet...
But that part was besides the point, all that mattered in this present moment was how good your heel felt mashing into the thiiiick outline of his poor cock—finally applying all the pressure he’d been fantasizing about.
“Nnngh-,” Choso moans, head slumped against your thigh with wet pants splaying out over your skin. “More, p-please, more… mistress—“
“Excuse me?” You choke and your foot stutters in its stepping as that title hits your ears.
You figured he’d be pathetic once he got a taste of you like this but you were not expecting him to say that in the slightest. And the way he angles his head up to look at you with those charming brown eyes of his—all glimmered over with tears while his hips jerk to create more friction between your heel and his dick.
“You’re such a loser, Cho. How many times did you think about this, hm?” You ask in an unfairly demeaning tone that makes his heart skin multiple beats within his chest.
“So many fuckin’ times,” He gasps out as if his breath had run away from his lungs entirely. The warm skin of his cheek is felt rubbing against your leg and he looks rather deranged in the state he's in, “Fuuuck—do y’know how long I’ve been wanting you to step on me?” He asks in return.
You head tips in faux thought and you bring your free hand up to your chin, the other occupied with patting his head softly, “Mmm, I think I’ve got a pretty good guess.” Then you move your touch to his broad shoulders and force the upper half of his body away from your limbs—exposing all of his pathetic frame to you. “In fact, I want you to pull your cock out and show me how badly you’ve been wanting this.”
Choso’s never moved faster to do anything in his life.
His hands are a bit jittery as they slip beneath the thick band of his sweats, then his boxers, and soon his dick is quickly flying out into the air. The upper inches of it appear to be a flushing shade of red, and he looks like he'd cum if you blew at him.
You spot a thick pool of precum spilling out from his mushroomy head and find yourself biting at your lip, then you let the tip of your heel brush against his shaft and Choso whimpers.
“Y-Yes,” He mumbles, “More, fuck.. please-, step on me moreee.” His body moves about against the floor so that he could meet the motions of your heel with a few ruts of his own.
You roll your eyes at how desperate he is but let your foot do exactly as he’s asked and grind it against his cock, guiding his erection down in a way that looks like it should hurt.
And yet, Choso’s throwing his head back and moaning into the air. “Ohmygodddd,” He releases a hoarse grunt from the pressure you're gifting him, “That’s so fuckin’ hot. C-Can you tell me how.. hahh-, pathetic I am too?”
You blink. “What?”
“Please?" Choso's eyes get droopy and he pants leisurely while giving you the cutest puppy eyes he could manage, "Look at me—look at how m’leaking all over your shoes… isn’t that nasty?”
Clearly he was taunting you into giving him exactly what he wanted. And unfortunately for you, it was working.
“Yeah, really nasty…” You say in a soft spoken tone. The edge of your heel lifts up to his tip and you tap at it in short intervals, watching the way he squirms and sporting a smirk on your lips as you say, “Think you can be a good boy ‘n lick them clean for me after I let you cum?”
Choso nods aggressively enough to bring himself to a throbbing headache, but he doesn’t care.
Which makes you snort, “Wow, Choso. I mean pathetic is one thing but, you’re more like a slut for me, aren’t you? Rubbing yourself all over my shoes like that… what a needy boy.”
Only a few words out of your mouth and all his fantasies had been fulfilled tenfold. He couldn't stop his eyes from rolling back, lips wobbly from how many sounds were escaping them, “M’gonna cum."
Your foot presses down harder and adjusts his cock over to the left, forcing it to pulse against the skin of his waist. Challenging him as you snort, “Are you?”
“Please-, ohfuck.. pleeease let me cum,” Choso's a quick learner, he didn't need any more questions out of that mouth of yours to realize you wanted him to ask for it. “I’ll be good, I’ll lick it up when m’done, I’ll lick you up when I’m done—whatever you want, please.. let me cumm.”
You pretended not to hear the claim in between his pleas about how he'd lick you up, ignoring the throb it invokes from deep in between your legs. It was almost annoying how he was the one receiving pleasure here and yet you could feel your panties clinging to your folds from wet arousal already.
Then, with gracious eyes do you nod your head and hum, “Mmmh, fine. Go ahead.”
A throaty groan is ripped out of his throat as he does so. Choso’s body jolts, cum shooting out of his tip in creamy waves
“Fuuuhh-, fuck..” His breath sounds exasperated.
You’re left to watch his release come flying out, landing up along your shin and even a little higher than that. As it lands, you feel the way it sluggishly glides down and Choso’s busy trying to collect himself from where he is.
Once his panting comes to a stop and he manages to blink away those tears he’d been holding back—his eyes run down along your body and just when you try to pull your leg away from him, he reaches out for it.
His grip on you is sudden and rather rough, but you let it slide for the time being. Your composure falters for a moment in shock, and he decides to take things another step forward.
At first, he does as you said and starts to lick up his cum—cleaning it off your shoe and the lower end of your leg. Then he starts to take some of his seed up onto his thumb and lick it up that way, scarcely meeting eyes with you every now ‘n then.
You didn’t realize he’d schemed something up until it was too late.
Choso went to wipe up the second to last drop of his cum and paused before taking it into his mouth.
Noticing his hesitation, “Hey, that’s not all of—“
The man cuts you off via grabbing at the bottom of your dress, and pulling you to bend down towards him. You stumble from your footing and then choke on your own breath.
Within your gasp and while your mouth is open, Choso swipes his cum out across your lips and then pushes himself up on his knees to lick it off—tongue sneaking into your mouth right after.
“Mmph!” You moan against him, kissing him back but definitely cursing him out within your head.
When he pulls away, he’s got a smile on his face even as he whispers, “Sorry.”
To which you glare at him, “You’re not.”
His voice grows low and sheepish as his gaze darts off from yours, “I was jus’ following your instructions. You said to lick it all up.”
“Yeah, but—“
“And I think,” He leans away from your face and dips down towards your legs, “Some of it got in between your thighs…”
It absolutely did not, but with the way he was looking at you…
Your head turns away and you stand up straight before crossing your arms. “W-Well then… clean me up properly.”
Choso’s cock twitches faintly and he’s bubbling with his own excitement as he starts to move your legs apart, “With pleasure.”
☆ Toji Fushiguro — working out.
There’s nothing Toji loves more than seeing you sweat. You thought it was his normal way of being overly affectionate in the beginning of your relationship with him, but over time you’ve come to learn that your boyfriend actually has a thing for you exercising.
And it doesn’t matter how you do so either. You could go on a short walk around the neighborhood, do some yoga around the house, stretch as soon as you wake up from a nap—and that big perv is rubbing a hand over the fat cock stiffening in between his legs.
Ever the weirdo.
If only you’d known about his obsession with seeing you exercise prior to going to the gym with him.
You were doing some cardio, running on the treadmill and oblivious to his verdant eyes trained solely on you from across the way. You already warned him beforehand that if he couldn’t control himself during one trip to the gym then it wouldn’t be happening again.
Toji tried to keep his eyes away from you, but he saw one too many other people walking your way and throwing their gazes at you for him to ignore.
And by the time his attention landed on you, he was a goner. You were running rather fast and all he could focus on was the way your body looked in motion. There was nothing inherently sexual about watching you sprint, but you couldn’t tell that to Toji.
Only thing running through his mind was the multiple ways in which he could work you out afterwards.
He was only halfway through his workout before he saw you heading off towards the locker rooms. And what kind of man would he be if he didn’t follow after his wife?
Okay, technically he had no real reason to do so but he’s not about to explain that to you now—even though you’re cocking a brow at him and questioning him about it.
“Toji, I told you to behave,” You sigh as you turn around and bend over, reaching for the clean shirt that’d fallen down within your locker.
Rookie mistake.
Now he’s creeping behind you and putting his hands on your waist, coming over to your ear and whispering, “I’m so behaved, baby. Haven’t even done anything yet.”
Your head shakes as you stand up straight, “Yet?”
Your questioning is immediately answered when you shift backwards and feel the heavy bulge poking in between your ass cheeks. All you could do at this point was shut your eyes and exhale again.
Glancing back over your shoulder, “How long have you had that?”
“Since I saw you stretching,” He admits.
You wanted to laugh at the man since that happened almost an hour ago. Instead, you simply turn your head away and let your shoulders drop, “Perv.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Your husband grumps, “Tell me more about it while I fuck ya’.”
A cool brush of air meets your suddenly exposed thighs as your workout pants are tugged right off your body in one go.
“Toji!” You whisper-shout, feeling him apologetically nuzzle his face into your neck.
Then you feel that tender tip of his swatting its way in between your folds as wets himself with your arousal. “Shhhh, no one’s coming in here,” Toji insists.
Considering how you were equally as turned on as he was—with the way you’d been eyeing his beefy body work out all evening long—there wasn’t much of an argument on your end.
Though, you can’t say you expected him to be so animalistic with the eay he fucks you up against that locker. The poor thing is shaking and making all sorts of creaky, rickety noises while he pounds the meaty girth of his cock deep into your cunt.
You had to pull your shirt up and bite down on the fabric just to stop yourself from crying out too loudly.
Toji on the other hand didn’t seem to care one bit about the noises, nearly lifting your body further up against the lockers as he gruffed into your skin. “Love this fuckin’ pussy,” He praises, heavy balls hammering against your puffy folds as he stuffed himself in to the hilt of your cunt with each thrust.
“Hnngh-, hahhh—yeahh?” Your shirt falls out from in between your teeth, “H-How much?”
Your questioning taunt has his cock growing impossibly harder, and he sandwiches your frame against the cold metal ahead.
Each movement from his hips is accompanied by a sharp thwack of his chubby tip, streeetching you out from the inside and aching to pull something soaked from out of you.
“You know how much I love my pussy—nasty lil’ thing.” Toji huffs before wrapping one massive arm around your waist and towing your body back onto his to meet with him, “Always squeezin’ this dick like she wants every drop of cum I’ve got for her.” His thumb locates your clit and taps at it, “Ain’t that right, doll? You want me to cum inside ya’. Right here in this locker room, ‘n force ya’ to walk out with it drippin’ alllll down these pretty thighs?”
Your maw dangles open all dumbly and he grunts loudly at the way your walls convulse around him in a rather nasty fashion—as if to answer him or something.
Toji’s free hand moves out to slam into the locker as he holds onto it and you swear you see him dent it a little. Still holding you in one arm, you’re reminded of just how strong your husband really is.
He practically lifts you up a few inches off the ground and pins you to the locker, “Think you can still run on that treadmill after bein’ thoroughly bred?” He asks only to earn a gaping sound out of the pit of your stomach, “C’mon, talk to me, dollface. Wanna hear it out this slutty mouth of yours.”
Dropping you, your legs are left trembling once your feet hit the floor and you don’t even get to breathe properly before Toji’s moving his arm from around your waist and up to grab at your jaw.
Angling your face back to his, he’s just babbling on about all the things he plans on doing to you—leaving you little to no room to answer him with any words.
“I might hafta’ cum inside you before every workout—make sure you’re reminded of who this pussy belongs to each time you come here,” Toji’s tongue folds out to lick the sweat off the side of your neck. He saw some people in particular looking at you for a few seconds too long so you can’t really blame him for his suggestions, “Would ya’ like that?”
You told yourself right there at that moment that you’re probably not going to attend this gym with him again.
Especially since your trainer—a tall blonde named Nanami—comes walking in due to a noise complaint he’d received from one of the other gym-goers outside.
Shit.
☆ Geto Suguru — yapping.
Now, between the two of you, you’ve always been the talker. He made a habit of throwing out a topic he knows you like, just to get you to talk more and then fall silent as he listens.
You adored his attentiveness for a long time until you realized he’d only been that way for an ulterior reason. That reason being that hearing you ramble on about literally anything gets his dick unbelievably wet.
Mainly because he loves to mess up the flow of your speeches by touching you—as he currently finds himself grinding the long, curvy shaft of his cock up ‘n in between your pussy lips. It started out as dry humping while you told him about your hectic day.
But now…
“Keep talkin’, gorgeous. I swear I’m listening,” Geto claimed despite doing everything but. His eyes weren’t even at your face anymore—trained entirely on the way your lips got speared apart by the head of his cock each time he rolled his hips forward.
Your cunt was leaking all over him far too much for you to remain focused on whatever story you'd been most recently yapping about. Instead moaning, “Thought about you all-, hnngh—all day, Sugu.”
“Yeahh? I know you did, pretty girl.” Geto puffs out gently, as if his length wasn't being the exact opposite with each heave and drudge against your exposure. “Did you think about this too? About my dick slippin’ against you like this? Teasin’ you?” His voice gets breathy as he says that, falling victim to the same thing as you with the way he gets caught up in the not-so-dry humping.
“Uhuhh,” Your hips stag upwards and roll, forcing his cock to angle down and press a nasty smooch against your hole.
Geto's hand moves to sprawl out against your abdomen and he forces you to be flat against the cushions. Scoffing whilst taking his shaft into his other hand and angling it around your slavering hole instead of in, “Keep talkin’ then. Finish that story of yours. What happened with Satoru after he spilled that drink on you?” He asks.
He needed to get back on track here. After all, you only allowed him to grind against you if he promised to listen to your story properly.
“Suguruuu,” You started to whine though, as if it wasn't you who agreed to this in the first place. He then watches as you grab at his wrist and wiggle your body around below him, cutely trying to work that plump head of his past your desperate ring of resistance, “I-I can’t think about him right now,” You push his hand away next and reach further down to grab at his cock, “Jus’ put it innn. Pleaseee?”
Geto manages to smile but his breath hitches in your throat. While he loves hearing you all needy for him, he also wants to be good and abide by your prior request, “Hm… I could," He says playfully, nibbling on his lip once you begin to stroke the inches of his dick he refuses to put in you, “But I think I wanna hear you l-like—hah, shit... like this for a little longer.”
Purposefully, your mean boyfriend begins to fuck himself into the small hole your hand has created for him and you continue to feel him slide all his weight over your clit each time he thrusts forward. It was driving you inside since you could feel his many veins twitching to be shoved inside you instead.
“Fuck me,” You gasp, hoping your please would convince him to do so quickly, “Please Sugu, I need you inside me.”
His dick practically jumps against your hand and you watch how his chest rises and falls with the deep breaths he has to take to hold himself back. “Need me inside you?" He snickers, "Oh, so you want my fingers then?”
The prettiest pout appears on your lips and it makes his cock begin to drool excessively onto your skin. “N-No, I need your dick inside me. C’mon Sugu, don’t you wanna fuck me?” You say before holding your legs up ‘n open for him, “Can't you see how wet I am for you?”
Geto tries—he really does—not to look down, but when you're spreading your legs like that... he just can't help himself. His eyes descend your body and a pornographic expression is painted into his pretty features.
“Shiiit…” He mutters, moving his hips back and jerking himself off in a few, quickened strokes, before he places his swollen tip up against your cunt, “You always know how to convince me, huh?”
Not a second more is wasted before he's sliding into you with vigor, eyes locking onto the moans you let out, and head tilting over.
“Missed this dick inside you that badly? That moan was louder than normal," Geto teases, feeling your pussy let out a squeaky squelch around his thickness.
You meet his eyes with something sinful coating your own, “I missed you fucking me."
“Oh yeah?” His arms move out so that he could properly cage you beneath him, hips casually bucking into you to spread the translucent glosses of his precum all across your hugging walls, “How much, baby? Talk to me—talk to Sugu.” He mocks.
You're a mess under him already and he feels as though he's barely even done anything yet. Plus, he still hasn't let you finish that story of yours and it's gonna make him feel bad any second now. You seemed so excited to tell him what happened while you were out today and now...
“Nnngh-, aanh,” Moans were slopping out of your mouth and your body was easily being fucking up against the bed, the frame distantly thumping against the wall hard enough to leave multiple marks that you're sure to scold him about later. “S-Soo much, Sugu," You reply, "Thought about havin' you inside me all fuckin’ day.”
Geto truly couldn't get enough of your voice. He loved hearing you talk more than anything, so every time you moan for him it just drives him insane. His balls come slapping against your skin with each heavy rock of his slim hips, cock getting swallowed up so nastily by that gorgeous pussy of yours.
Hell, he can't help himself from pushing into you a little deeper, “Ohhh don’t tell me that. My poor girlll, did you rub one out before I got home?”
You nod helplessly and your hands are reaching up to hold onto his arms, leaving light scratches across his skin due to how rough he was getting with you. “Wanted to feel you," Your whines ring out and enter his ears the same way a loving kiss from you would.
“Awhh, did you?” He mocks you again and ends up tossing his hair back—long, dark locks flying with the motion all elegantly as he grunts. “Shit, you’re so cute when you’re like this. Couldn’t even finish that little story of yours.”
Your legs feel like jello underneath the large man once his pounding begins to slant—the crooked curve of his cock knocking around that spongey spot inside you, and earning gossamers of your arousal to squirt out in return.
Then he's got the nerve to grin, “Guess you’ll have to tell me about it later.”
As if that won’t lead to the same thing happening all over again…
☆ Yuki Tsumuko — eye rolls.
Now, your girlfriend has many joys in this world but one of her favorite things to do with you is be nice 'n close to your face while she's knuckle deep in your cunt.
Why? Because she loooves watching the way your eyes flock to the very back of your head each time she curls her precise digits into that spot she knows you so desperately crave for her to reach. Giggling, "Hear how loud my girl is?" She'd tease in a slightly hoarse mutter.
You'd let out a moan in response if it weren't for her lips latching onto your again to drown the sound out completely. Her tongue twirls and dances over yours the same way it typically does to your pussy and you try your best to keep up with her but it's no use.
Perhaps you should've known better than to catch an attitude with her. You only rolled your eyes once because of how much she'd been lecturing you about something and now she was punishing you for it.
You can't really say you were complaining, though.
She pulls away from your mouth simply to watch the way your face twists up into pure bliss. Her fingers are dragging out something far too sweet 'n delicious out of your weeped hole, and she's eyeing down the way whines of her name leave your pretty, spit-slicked lips.
"Y-Yuki, please," You gasp and attempt to lift your hips for a moment to breathe only to be tugged right back down by the grip she's got on you with her free hand.
Then she pouts as if to mock you, "Aw, you close, pretty?" She hums in that faux sweet tone that causes your stomach to churn with butterflies, thighs a trembly mess over hers. "Gonna cum for me? Make a nasty lil' mess on me like you always do? Hm?"
As she continues to taunt you, her fingertips are busy rubbing right against that angled spot inside you that has your eyes crossing with stars in them. You're trying to nod your dumb head, and wanting nothing more than to duck down and hide your expression from her greedy eyes.
You make a laughable attempt at doing so, trying to move your face into the crook of her neck only to be stopped by the searing grip of her hand coming up to your throat. Her thumb pushes at your chin to lift it up and she smiles when you're forced to look at her again.
"Tryin' to hide your face from me now? Seriously?" She gasps in an exaggerated manner. "Now, you know that's my favorite part of you." Her fingers pick up in pace all of a sudden and you could feel the pads of each one ramming into you as if to punish you. "Just look atcha', all teary eyed 'n pouty like you weren't asking for this."
Your eyes are quick to dart elsewhere but you feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, "S-Shut upp," You huff, "I hate it when you do that."
The knowing smile on her face only widens out before she tips her head to the side, thumbing at your puckered lil' clit to roll her name into it. "Do what?" Yuki puffs out in that soft tone once more, brownish eyes dilating fro the disorientated sight of you, "Watch you when you're about to cum? Smile at the way your eyes run to the back of your head 'cause it's too much for ya'?
Before you could even answer her, she was leaning forward and your body was easily getting unsteady with its hovering over her lap.
"Would you rather I watch her instead?" She taunts, pushing you over so that your back flops down against the mattress. "Cause' I can do that. It has been a while since I've seen my girl up close, after all. Wonder if she's got just as much of an attitude with me as you do."
With a heavy huff exiting your throat, you watch with wide, glossy eyes as she sits up over you and meets your thighs with her soaked hands. Internally you were dreading what was about to happen as Yuki was never one to be gentle with her tongue as it laid onto your folds.
She parts your legs open for herself, "Think she missed me just as much as I missed her?"
You're too busy trying to cover your face out of some sort of shyness, refusing to answer or look at your eager girlfriend. To which Yuki playfully rolls her eyes and repositions herself down in between your legs. Her eyes stay up on you and your heavily breathing chest for a moment before she pushes forward and presses a chaste kiss against the soaked slit of your pussy.
"Babyyyy," She purrs in that evil voice of hers, "Look at me, will you?"
Even though you know damn well she only wanted to tease you, you ended up listening to her anyway as you removed your hands from your face and lazily drag your eyes down to her.
God, the sight was nothing short of sexy.
Her blonde hair had been strung back into a messy ponytail, brown eyes set dead on you, and pretty pinked lips slipping upwards into that smile you know and love so much.
"Theree she is," Yuki coos, tipping her head to the side again as she flaunts a mocking pout at you, "Was that so hard?"
Your brows tangle upwards and just as you go to answer her, she slots her two fingers right back into you slooowly with a loud squelch emitting into the room. "No," You whisper, "But d-do you have to stare?"
She scoffs, "Of course I do! How else would I watch your eyes roll back while I fuck you?"
Toji Fushiguro who makes you lock your own ankles around his neck.
You’re a biiiiig shit talker, love talking about how you’ll “drain him dry” and “make him cry tonight” but as soon as he’s half way inside, as soon as you feel that fat mushroom cockhead giving a messy smooooch to your sticky insides you’re squirming. Trying to back out and pushing at his happy trail, that only makes him snicker, “The fuck are you doing doll?”
You suck in the drool threatening to leave you mouth, hands gripping onto the sheets for dear life, “F-Fuck you, mmph- just-“
And he takes the words right out of your mouth, giving your cunt the best gut punch with his throbbing member you’d ever get in your life, slamming into you with his girth. Filling your hole to the brim. Tojis head lulls to the side, jet black hair swaying with every jackhammer into your tight walls, “Heh- what was that baby?”
You can only moan out, feeling the curve of him while he rolls his hips into you, the thwack of his balls against your gushing pussy, mind getting dizzy at the way he’s fucking you. You mewl out, that bottom lip quivering, “Tojii-“
“—No mama, what were you just sayin?” He can’t help the stupid smirk on his face, canines showing only fucking into you harder, faster— “Thought- hah- you said you’d make me cry t’night, nngh- wring me dry. But from the looks of it-“ he thrusts into you again, deeper, and he can see it, the way the way your brown eyes are blown out, glossy, “You’re ‘bout to cry.”
Toji pushes your knees up to your earlobes, drilling into your spongey g-spot that has you hiccuping, tears spilling out, “You’re too- aaangh jii- you’re too biiig!”
He condescendingly coos, “Awww, you poor thing, you’re poor, poor cunt.” He gives you a sloppy kiss on your lips, feeling the way your gummy walls sucks him further in, your arousal coating his strawberry red cock. “She’s begging for me tho mama.”
The older man shudders and the thought, letting out a grunt, “Wanna make it all better, -shit baby- then put your feet around my neck.”
You’re already sobbing out, your hands slipping from your feet and grabbing onto his beefy biceps. Crescent moons appearing in his skin, You can’t, really you can’t.
“No mama, I think you can.” He lets out a chuckle followed by a moan.
That was out loud?
“Use that empty cockdrunk brain ‘f yours f’me pretty.”
“Fuck Toji, mmmph- aaangh- Toji, fuck!” you don’t even realize what you’re spewing out at this point, hooking your ankles around his neck. Your legs are shaking, fucking squealing when you feel his weepy tip knock against your cervix. You’ve got the man cursing up a storm, holding you tight in the fucking pretzel fold he’s got you in, your sticky slick making it’s was down the both of your pubic hairs. He’s delirious in your heat, squeezing your plush thighs, while you feel every piston into your cervix, brushing past your sweet spots.
And Tojis fucking seething with the way he’s pounding into you, head resting in the crook of your neck, licking up your skin, “Shit mama, y-you might actually drain me dry- mmmck- fuck- you’re squeeze me so fuckin good. Goddamn baby.”
Pairing: Hubby/NBA Player!Connie x Black!Pregnant!Wifey!Reader (Based on my headcanon HERE!)
Synopsis: After an extremely grueling basketball season, Titans champion Connie Springer is ready to start his night off right with his beautiful trophy...and no, not the trophy he got from winning the most anticipated game of the season. He means you, his adorable wife carrying his unborn child. But what should be a long night of clubbing turns into something hotter when he suspects that you're feel unconscious in your new dress due to the bun cookin' in your oven. How does your hubby resolve this? By bending you over and giving you a quickie in your dress, of course!
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI); No Titan/Modern AU; Married AU; Sports AU; Body Insecurity; Latino!Connie; Some Spanish; Soft Dom!Connie x sub!Reader; Lactation Kink; Some Degradation ("Puta"); Praise; F*cking in the Mirror; Fingering; Pussy-Eating; Tongue Piercing; Tattoo Kink; Quickie Sex; Clothed!Reader x Naked!Connie; Mating Press; Riding; Connie F*cking You From the Bottom; Reader Cums 2x; Raw Creampie; Breeding
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer's Note: I'm so happy I was able to get this out!! I'm on a little weekend trip & got so caught up in work/school that I was afraid i wouldn't be able to make it to the end of May. This is a little fic for my Connie's b-day (month since i missed the day lmaoo) inspired by @laylathegoddesss's Eren x Pregnant!Reader fic. Please go give her stuff a read!! She's AMAZING!! i hope y'all enjoy!! <3 -love, Jazz
You stood in the full-length mirror leaning against the bedroom wall, staring at the plump woman standing in front of you.
Her stomach protruded so obviously from underneath her skin-tight black mini dress that it would've comical if the woman wasn't you.
Despite your 12-inch buss down flowing down your back in soft, black curls, soft, glamorous makeup, and gorgeous heels, you don't feel any bit of sexy, fabulous, or desirable. Unlike the trophy your husband treats you as, like the one he won earlier today at his championship game.
You ran your hands over your very pregnant stomach, your lips, slick with Fenty Beauty Lip Bomb gloss, downturning into a deepened frown. 'I look so fat in this.'
The thought came out of nowhere, conjured by the way the soft, black fabric of the bodycon dress stuck to your form, stretching over your stomach in the most embarrassing way possible. You would've loved the dress on your unpregnant, smaller body, but now? It made you look like a joke.
You didn't have time to inspect your tummy any more than you already have when you hear your husband calling from the bathroom down the hall. "Baby!" he called. "You ready yet? The ride will be here soon!"
"Uh...just a minute!" you called back. "I'm just puttin' on my earrings." You quickly waddled over to your vanity where you plucked up two diamond earrings that your husband bought you last Christmas. Just as you turned back around as you're fastening them, your husband is there, leaning against the bedroom door.
Connie Springer was truly the apple of everyone's eye...including yours. He was your husband. Your love. Your one and only. As the star player of his local basketball team “The Titans” and a member of the NBA, the Japanese-Latino player was no stranger to affection, both wanted and unwanted. Even though he’d been with you for four years before proposing and marrying you, Connie was still getting affections from every woman sitting outside at his games.
And why not? Connie was truly a hottie with his tan skin and muscles that glistened in sweat on the court; his buzz cut to went so well with the 24k diamond studs in his ears; his tattoos inking up and down his right arm and muscular calve; his charming smile and green eyes they blazed with fire during a game before he shot a basket and blew you a kiss in the bleachers.
You couldn’t believe he chose you out of all of the women at your local game. Not a model or a singer or an actress. You, a simple city girl who owned her own bakery, though that wasn’t some small feat.
You just figured a basketball player would rather date a socialite. But after Jean Kristen, Connie’s friend and fellow Titan player, introduced you to Connie at a celebratory party you were catering for them, sparks flew and Connie was instantly attracted.
As were you. To his hot-headedness, protectiveness, and bold personality especially. Despite his height, Connie was irresistibly confident and that made him irresistibly sexy to you.
Your man didn’t play about you. You sat courtside at all his games. Traveled with him first class. Was kept locked at his side on the street or in his lap at the club, no matter the stares. He decked paparazzi in the face, knocking cameras that tried to snap flicks of you on the ground. He argued people down on Twitter and TikTok who bashed you, including the fuck ass Shade Room on IG. He even had a bodyguard walk around with you once he found out you were pregnant.
You were his woman and he wanted everyone to know that. Now, years later, married with a baby on the way, nothing has changed. Except your body.
"What?" you murmured, flushing hot at his intimately soft look. Connie was wearing an Armani shirt with jeans, the cuffs rolled up to expose his yummy tattoos. The simple silver chain glistened like his stud earrings, making your stomach flip.
"You're just...perfect," he sighed, his jade eyes rolling over your body. "Can't believe how fuckin' lucky I am to have you." You flushed, biting back a smile. Of course, he’d say that. "You don't think it's too..."
You trailed off, biting your lip. As your husband slunk into the room, you twisted around to face the mirror. Your body seemed to change over night from the baby—wider hips, bigger stomach, larger tits plump with milk, a fatter ass, etc.
Though you’d take the fat ass and titties, the stomach is a whole other issue. At six months, you feel like a walking hippo. A balloon about to pop. You had to switch your wardrobe due to your weight gain.
"Too what, mama?" Connie murmured, coming up behind you to wrap his hands around your stomach. Something he always did. Despite his short height, he still stood a couple inches taller than you, the top of your head just brushing his chin. “Too...y'know...tight?" you asked, your eyes facing down at your tummy.
Connie pressed himself against you, giving you a feel of his bulge. “It ain't tight enough," he murmured against your neck. "Love it when you wear that sexy shit. I want everyone to know that your fine ass is mines." His hand cascaded down to your ass, possessively squeezing it.
"Like the big ass rock on my finger don't say that," you giggled, admiring the gorgeous diamond ring in the 24k gold band he slid on your finger at your highly-anticipated wedding. He smacked your behind at the little remark, making you squeak (and gush into your very expensive Savage X Fenty panties).
God, you loved how rough and hard Connie’s hands were! He was a grabber—always grabbing your waist, your ass, your tits, your tummy. He loved to grip your hair and pin your thighs back during sex, grab your throat and palm whatever he could. It always made you feel so kept and desirable, but lately, not even your man's handsiness could stop these insecure feelings taking over you.
“Really, Con, is this okay to wear for your party? With my tummy and all?" He met your gaze in the mirror, confused painted across his face. “Baby, why you askin' me that? You look amazing!" He paused, brows furrowed. "Why? You don't think so?"
Quickly, you tried to backtrack. The last thing you wanted was for him to worry about you on his big night. He just won a championship game earlier today! Tonight was to celebrate HIM! "No, no, it's not that! I-I was just wonderin' is all. Since we'll be around your team and big names in the sports business."
Connie was still giving you a concerned look, but you masked your true feelings with a plastic smile, draping your arms around his neck. "It's nothin', babe, really! I'm almost done anyway." Your husband looked like he wanted to say more, but his phone ringing in his pocket stopped him short. He slipped it out and read the text over.
He groaned, irked that the moment was ruined over some BS. "Shit, my driver just texted me sayin' he had a family emergency. Lemme order an Uber real quick." He gave you a quick kiss on the lips before he shot out of the bedroom, already on the phone with his driver.
As soon as he was gone, you waddled over to your walk-in closet and dug through your clothes for another dress. You had quite the collection, ranging from the business-like, sophisticated gowns to the tighest, sexiest club dresses. All kinds of designer—Gucci, Versace, Dior, Dolce & Gabbana—stared back at you, most from when your body was a lot smaller.
You felt tears burn in your eyes as you stared at them, grieving your old shape, but you pushed them away and picked out an off-the-shoulder black dress with a skater skirt flared to conceal your stomach. It wasn't at all the kind of sexy, jaw-dropping dress you had on before and even pulling it on, you felt internally guilty for changing clothes.
After you had the new dress on, you didn't feel any better. In fact, you felt worse. So much so that you sat on the edge of the bed you shared every night with your husband and felt like you could cry from how low you felt. You placed a hand on your stomach, feeling so many emotions that battled with each other.
If Connie hadn't came back upstairs whistling so happily, you would've definitely begun crying. Damn hormons.
"Alright, my beautiful wife! Let's getcha outta here so we can..." He abruptly paused, his full, pink lips turning into a worried frown. "Hey, what's up?" He knew from the moment he entered the room that you were down. He could read you like a book.
"Huh? O-Oh, I'm fine! I just got winded." But Connie didn’t smile back. He knew it was a shit lie. Worriedly, he sat beside you on the bed and placed a comforting hand on your thigh. "Baby, if you don't think you're up for this party, we can always stay home."
You gaped at him, upset at him even suggesting such a thing. "What?! Nooo! Connie, you just won a championship game and everybody is lookin' forward to seein' you! It's important!" Connie pulled a stern face, holding your hands firmly in his.
"You're important," he firmly replied. "You and my baby." His hand ran over your stomach, right over the gold buttons running down your dress. “Why'd you change your dress?" he bluntly asked, those green eyes daring you to lie to him.
You looked away, biting your lip. Usually, being vulnerable with Connie wasn't a battle, but this time? It was a damn war.
"I just...didn't like how the other one looked on me." The silence that stuck in the air was tense and thick. Connie was obviously upset with your confession, but he didn't show it just yet. "Why?" he demanded. "And don't try to bat your lashes outta this one, mi amor. Tell me what's goin on up here."
You felt tears prick your eyes, threatening to burst and ruin your makeup. You stared down at Connie's knuckle tattoos, unable to stare him in the eyes. "I-I...I just don't think I look sexy anymore. I feel ugly and fat a-and—oh!" Suddenly, you were over Connie’s lap with your ass tooted in the air for him.
"Connie?!" you gasped, looking back at him as he splayed you across his lap. "What are you—"
"Shut up," he snapped. "I don't wanna hear nothin' but those pretty little moans outta you.” Quickly, he hiked your dress up to show off your lace panties nestled between your plump asscheeks etched in tiger stripes and—
Rrrriiiip!
"Con!" you gasped. “Those were new!” You pouted as he flung the flimsy lace undies away somewhere across the room. “I’ll get you new ones. Now be quiet and take your punishment, wifey.” Before you could take a single breath, your husband was raising his hand over your ass and striking it down hard on your asscheeks.
SPANK!
You gasped and flinched as if you weren't aware that he was about to do this. Connie loved all of you, but he was an ass guy down to the T. He couldn't get enough of squeezing, smacking, grabbing, and caressing your butt every chance he got, even after matches right on national television.
But he especially loved hanging you over his knee and spanking you, just to hear you moan and scream for him. He loved punishing you just to see those tears and feel how wet you got from the sparks of pain and pleasure mixing into one intoxicating cocktail. “Ah! Con, wait!” you tried to protest. You squirmed, trying to free yourself, but Connie locked one arm around you to keep you there. “Ah-ah, you ain’t listenin’. That’s liable for another spank.”
SPANK!
You gasped as his hand came down again, much harder than before. You felt fire lick across your right asscheek, harsh and unbearable. “Ow!” you yelped, cringing at the pain. Your husband only watched, in love with the way your ass recoiled against his palm. “Hurts, mamas? That’s how I felt when you told me you changed your dress ‘cause you don’t think you looked sexy in it.”
SPANK!
He hit your left cheek this time, making your ass burn with a thousand fires all from his hand alone. “That’s how I feel whenever you feel insecure about that body of yours. The one I love so, so much.”
SPANK!
“Do you have any idea how fuckin’ hot you are? How many men would kill to snatch you up and take you away from me?”
SPANK!
“How many men would love to breed you? Give you a baby like I did?”
SPANK! SPANK!
“Do you like to hurt me, baby? You wanna see me heartbroken over you? Is that it, mamì?”
You were surprised you could even speak. Connie's assault on your ass has left you twitching and hot all over, your ass raw from the spankings. You also were wetter than you ever remember being since the negative feelings over your pregnant body. "N-No," you softly whimpered.
SPANK!
You let out a loud whine in anguish at the agonizing singe of Connie's assault on your ass, the fire against your cheeks getting much worse. "What was that, mama? I couldn't hear you." You were shaking as you replied, tongue-tied and teary-eyed. “N-No, Papì! I’m sorry! I just felt insecure!”
You sniffled as Connie began to rub his hand over your asscheeks, soothing the burn. "And why the fuck do you feel that, huh?" he growled. "Do you even realize how sexy you are? How hard you get me all the fuckin' time?"
You felt it now underneath you, pushing against your stomach. His hard cock chubbing against hiss slacks. "Connie," you whined. "That's so lewd." You tried not to rub against it, not wanting to throw in the towel and admit defeat just yet. "And you love it," he chuckled. "My good little girl."
The pet name made your stomach flip, his pet names always being your weakness. Your krypnonite. "But I'm not little," you muttered. Connie paused, quirking an eyebrow down at your little self-deprocating remark. "Oh, no?"
You squeaked as he suddenly yanked you up and placed you on his lap, your back meeting his front. He locked one arm around your midsection, placing you right on top of his bulge. "Then why is it so easy to lift you up and put you wherever I want, hermosa? Why don't I break a sweat when I pick you up and fuck you, hm?"
He began to rub himself against your pussy, causing your gush to ooze onto his cock, staining his slacks. "P-Papì, don't," you whined. You bit your lip as you felt your puffy pussy lips split open, causing more of your honey to spill out and embarrassingly soak Connie's dickprint through his pants. "'Don't' nothin'," he growled. "Don't make me smack this pussy...unless ya want that."
His hand skated down your pussy, pressing right against your slit in anticipation of a smack. "Ooo, I think you do. She just gushed for me!" He tsked, nibbling your earlobe, making you whimper at the contact. "Still so slutty. Keep it up and I'mma give you another baby, baby."
Your teeth sunk deeper into your bottom lip, excitment coursing through you at the idea of your hubby giving you another raw creampie. "But I won't do that if you don't put the dress back on," he whispered in your ear. And just like that, your stomach pitted and turned to ice. When you turned to look at Connie, his eyes were fierce and all ablaze. He wasn't playing with you. "B-But—"
"So I guess you don't want your husband to make you feel good before our night out together?" he cut in, raising a brow at you. "You don't want him to bust a fat load in you?" You paused, your face hot and your pussy wet as his fingers toyed with it. Your body betrayed you, dammt. "Mmm-hmm, that's what I thought."
Together, he helped you stand and undressed you, taking good care of carefully unbuttoning each button on your dress until it was off. You felt so loved and special as he slid the skin-tight dress back on you, no panties included. Then he had you stand between his legs as he sat on the bedside, grinning at you.
"Theeeere's my sexy wife!" he cooed. "Spin for me, mama." You tried to bite back your smile, but your joy took over as you twirled for him, giggling when he groaned at the sight of your ass pushing against the fabric. "Baby, THIS is what made you insecure? Dios mio, turn around and look at yourself."
He took your hands in his, pressing a sweet kiss to each knuckle. "You're beautiful, baby bump or not. But the fact that you're hold a little me or you in there makes you ten times more gorgeous." His hands released yours to hold your stomach, pressing a kiss to it before posessievely yanking down the window to your dress that showed off your cleavage.
You let out a little intake of breath as each of your full tits popped out for him, hanging like ripe fruit for him.
"Connie," you whined. Your husband was mesmorized as he massaged and held each tit in his hands, his thumbs running over the hard nubs. "Look at these full tits," he murmured before he leaned in to suck on each, his tongue swirling around the hardened peaks.
You moaned, knees almost buckling as he sucked and toyed with your nipples until he moaned in surprise as liquid leaked out of your nipples. Milk. "Lactating already, mama?" he chuckled. You flushed, realizing that this wasn't a kink you both explored. "I started early for the baby. Is that okay?"
Connie's eyes flashed with a lustful fire as he practically stuffed his face in your tits, motorboating you and making you giggle. "That's more than okay. Fuck, you taste so fuckin' good, mama." "He continued to suck on your tits, drawing milk out of the hard, brown peaks as you moaned and whimpered, gripping onto him for dear life. "Look at me. Look at how hard you've got your man."
You did so, finding that his cock has grown in his slacks, twitching and pulsing against his fly as if he was about to bust out. "Yeah? You want this dick right now?" He paused, gripping his cock in his hand, palming himself to your heart's content.
"Yes, please, Papì." You tried to touch him yourself, but he stopped you, shaking his head. "Mmm...not yet. You gotta earn this dick first. Lay back f'me, but don't take your eyes off the mirror. I've gotta make my wife feel good, don't I?" He gave a wolfish grin that was so Connie-like that you giggled, all of those pesky little negative thoughts about yourself starting to vanish.
You bit your lip and watch him as he knelt down in front of you and opened your legs. When he got a look at your soaked little pussy, puffy from arousal and glistening for him, he almost looked pained. “Goddamn, mama,” he hissed. “You’re so wet f'me. You didn't need them little panties anymore.”
His eyes flicked up to yours, his hands laying on your thighs. ‘Okay?’ his eyes asked.
Wordlessly, you nodded, unable to speak. But he wasn't satisfied. He began to brush his fingers up and down your wet slit, paying close attention to your reactions. “No es suficiente, hermosa (Not enough, beautiful). Words, baby,” he growled. “Gimme words.”
SMACK!
His hand smacked lightly against your pussy, making you yelp in pleasure and your pussy throb against his palm. “Yes!” you moaned, your pretty red-painted toes curling in your heels. “Please, Con…please touch me.”
He gave you a devastating smile at your pitiful reaction, but didn't keep you waiting. He split your thighs wider, causing your pussy lips to slightly split and expose your dripping hole for him. “Shit!” he hisses, gaping at your sex. “You have the prettiest pussy, mamì. I can't believe I get this all the time."
“Thank y–!” But your words were cut off by a sudden gasp as Connie leaned in and began suckling on your clit and eating your pussy like a starving man. He was relentless with his tongue slashes, flicks, and long licks up and down your slit.
He moved his tongue like he was a master at eating pussy, paying close attention to your reactions even though you had this mouth over a thousand times before. But every time was still fucking amazing.
You moaned and whimpered above him, your fingers carding through his buzzcut as your other hand moved down to your pussy, trying to make Connie ease up on his immaculate, fast pussy-eating. "Ah, f-fuck...w-wait, Con, b-baby! Do we...oh, shit yes! Do you have time to do this?"
Your husband paused, his forest-green eyes boring into yours. "Who cares? We'll get there when we get there. Now move your hands before I move 'em for you." You gushed at the dominance in his tone, loving it when he shifted into such a demanding, bossy mood. "You're gonna ruin my dress, babe."
Your husband smirked, teasingly licking you from slit to asshole with his fat tongue, the cold metal of his tongue piercing making you moan. "Shouldn't I be sayin' that?" he chuckled. "You seem mad animate 'bout it now when you was the one who didn't wanna wear it."
He slid your dress up higher, exposing a bit of your pregnant stomach to him as you leaned back, both of your holes on full display for him. Connie loved you like that: slutty, open, and vulnerable on his bed. "I'll get you another one. It wouldn't be the first time I did that; besides, I paid for it."
And he did. He saw the dress in a window and immediately thought of you, FaceTiming you to show you. "You like this, amor?" he had asked, flashing you the slinky dress through the phone as he popped his gum. "I thought you could add this to your lil' club dress collection."
"B-But it was for your party," you whined, squirming as your husband wiggled his tongue in a way that made your eyes roll back. Connie glared at you from between your thighs, pissed that you're interrupting his meal. "Fuck the dress. And motherfuck the party."
You laughed but it turned into a breathy moan as he slurped at your pussy, drinking in every drop of your arousal you could give. "You say that now till Jean takes half the basketball cake. You know he's greedy for my cake."
Connie's eyes flashed with lust as he forced your thighs to your chest, stretching you completely open for him, exposing your ass to him. "I am too. And if Jean knows what's good for him, he'd better stay the fuck away from both."
You writhed and grinded your hips against his mouth as he dove back in, trying to get him closer. Your pussy pushed into his pillowy-soft lips and wet tongue that drew shapes and wrote hois name across your wet, swollen pussy lips and needy little clit. "God, baby!" you moaned. "Please faster! I-I need to cum in your mouth!"
Connie hummed in enjoyment, making the most salaciously lewd sounds as his tongue swirled in your wetness. "The feeling's mutual, mi amor," he cooed. He then pulled away from you, lips glistening with your juices. "How 'bout you..."
He sat on the edge of the bed and patted his lap, making your seat hot for you. Pat, pat. "Hop up here in my lap, hm? I wanna feel your pussy squeeze 'round my fingers when I finally make you cum."
He nodded at the mirror across the bed facing the bed, his expression hot. "But I'll only make you cum if you keep lookin' in that mirror at yourself. I want you to watch yourself gush 'round my fingers f'me, okay?"
Connie always loved him some mirror sex...and so did you. You loved watching his pretty face contort in pleasure when he sunk in your pussy, railing you with all that he had until he blew a fat load in you. You felt your body tingle in arousal and excitement, your pussy thinking for you. "Uh...can you get naked first?"
He grinned at you, already popping onto his feet to undress. "What a little puta my wife is! God, I'm so lucky!"
Connie was right: fuck the party. As soon as he was down to his briefs, showing off every mouth-watering muscle, tattoo, and the ridges of his fat cock in his briefs, you weren't thinking about anything else but getting more of him.
And once you were sitting in his lap, all thoughts of going anywhere flew out the window. Because your husband had you locked in his lap, thighs spread, with two fingers stuffed inside of your pussy, making you watch him finger-fuck your brains out in the mirror.
Your mouth was a permanent O as you moaned and whined from Connie teasing you wet entrance, sliding his fingers in and out, slowly pumping them and curling them up till you keened. “So needy,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your neck as he continued, his expression lustful as he watched you in the mirror. "Mmm, that's it. So wet f'me. Feel so fuckin' good."
He dug his nose into the long curls cascading down your back as he got you closer, closer. The edges of your vision blurred as you raced towards your orgasm, your moans bouncing off of the wall. Your eyes closed as bliss took over, your clit throbbing. "Connie, m'close!" you slurred. "I'm gonna cum soon!"
“Que?” Connie immediately stopped, leaving his fingers in you. “And who the fuck said you could do that? I don't see your eyes on that mirror." Your eyes opened, staring at the pregnant woman with the brown skin and full lips, her pussy on full display in her man's lap.
"Look at yourself," he demanded. "Look at that goddess. Who's that pretty girl gettin' her pussy fucked?" He slowly pulled his fingers out of you and began to rub at your clit, making you groan from the sweet pleasure. "M-Me," you stammered.
SMACK!
You gasped as Connie slapped your pussy again, the sharpness of his hit almost making you gush. "Louder! Who is she?!" Then his fingers were back inside, pumping, stroking, pushing you towards a much-needed nut. "Me! It's me, Papì! I know I'm beautiful and gorgeous and...fuck, I'm gonna cum!"
Connie grinned into your neck, kissing behind you ear the way you liked; the shit that made you melt. "That's my good girl. Now cum for me.” And after a few more thrusts and some teasing moans in your ear that turned you into a puddle, you came on your husband's thick fingers.
The ink lacing his knuckles looked sinful, especially since his fingers were stuffed so nicely inside of you, sticky and glistening with your pussy juices. He made you cum the only way Connie Springer, NBA player, and your husband/baby daddy, could: hard and intense.
Your eyes rolled back and you twitched in his lap as your orgasm washed over you, taking you through space. When you finally came down, you were dizzy and supremely satisfied, feeling like the sexiest bitch to walk the earth. Connie peppered your face in kisses, making you giggle. “Muy bien (very good), baby! That’s my good lil' listener. Look at the mess ya made.”
He pulled his fingers out of you and pressed them, wet and sticky, against your bottom lip. “Now you gotta clean it up.” You pried your mouth open, sucking on his digits as you stared at him in the mirror. “Now what do you say?” he whispered, one hand lacing around your throat.
You swallowed as he squeezed, the act making your pussy throb. “Thank you, Papì.” He smiled, kissing your lips. “You’re welcome, baby. Feel better now?”
You did...but you couldn't let him know that. You needed his dick like you needed air to breathe. There was NO FUCKING WAY you could leave this house without getting dicked down by your man. “Not really. I could use a little more persuasion.”
He clocked that sexy little purr as you spoke, his eyes growing lustful. “Little slut. Of course, you could. Well—“
Ding-ding! Groaning, Connie snatched his phone from across the bed and looked at the notification there. “Damn. Ride will be here in 15 minutes.” Disappointment flooded in you. That meant no fucking until the party was over...which could've been 2AM for all you knew. “Oh. Well, we can always finish when we get home.”
Connie scrunched his face at you, disgusted by such a statement. “Da fuck? No way are you leavin’ this bed without gettin’ my dick in you.”
With ease, he scooped you up in his arms and placed you on your back on the bed. “B-But, Connie. Our ride—“
“Can wait. He knows who the fuck he’s pickin’ up, plus I tipped him extra.” Then he was snatching off his briefs, freeing his big, beautiful, fat, veiny cock from its prison, making your stomach flip with anticipation. “Now lay back f’me, baby. I can make you cum in 10.”
You had no doubt that he could, but the thing was once you and Connie started fucking, a quickie could turn into a two-hour fuck session. Nasty, sticky, wet, and messy: just the way you both enjoyed.
And staring into his moltenly-hot eyes, you knew that this would probably be either a quickie or an hour-long session depending on how he was feeling. “Just keep your eyes on that mirror. Am I clear?” He gripped your chin and forced it back, making you stare at yourself hanging off of the bed upside down in the mirror. “Y-Yes, sir," you whimpered.
Turned out that was hard to do when your husband was fucking you so good. He put you on your side to make it easier on your tummy and fucked you from the side, pumping his cock in and out of your dripping pussy, making the bed squeal and you make such slutty sounds. "Ah! Ah, fuck, Connie, yes!" you wailed. "Please do it faster! Harder!"
Your man hovered above you, hands gripping your ass and thighs, trailing over your tiger stripes, relishing every womanly part of you. "Yeah? That's how you want it?" he grunted. "Even while pregnant, you still wanna be put in the mattress. Dios miyo, what a sexy lil' whore I've got for a wife."
He put his foot up on the bed and thrusted in a way that put himself deeper, making you feel every inch of him. He pumped himself inside, in and out like a machine, never slowing or stopping. "I'm a whore for ya too, y'know," he panted. "I can't play one fuckin' game without thinkin' 'bout comin' home to you and fuckin' this pussy...makin' you cum over."
He smacked your ass hard, the sting mixing with the pleasure of your pussy being filled and your clit stroked against his toned stomach. "And over."
He flipped you onto your back, pushing your thighs up to stretch you, make you take him more. "And over again. 'Cause you fuckin' deserve it, baby. You deserve everything!"
You were losing your grip on reality, staring at your husband fuck you stupid in the mirror. "F-Fuck, Papì! You're so deep!" He met your eyes in the mirror, his pretty face and muscles adorned with tattoos and his tan skin glistening in sweat. "Tell me where you feel me, mamì. Tell me where my cock is."
You trailed a hand down to your plump, pregnant stomach, your manicure glistening at him. "Here. R-Right here." Connie grinned, loving to hear how much his dick had you going insane. "Maybe I can give you another creampie. Give my baby another baby...if that even works."
You had no idea, but the idea of being bred with another child by your husband made you want to squirt right there! "We can find out," you purred.
Connie smiled at you, flashing those pearly whites as he leaned down to give you a sloppy kiss, all tongue. "We sure can, mi amor. If you–shit–keep takin' that dick like that, I'll definitely give you another raw load." He fucked you harder, faster, deeper, making the bedsprings creak in protest below you. "How's that, hm?! That feel good?!"
He yelled at you as he fucked you dumb into your marital bed, his gold band listening at you as he held your throat. "Ye-e-esss!" you hiccuped, each word a jumbled meshment of words as you headed towards another fat nut. "Ohmygod, Con, I'm gonna cum soon! I'm s-so close!"
Your eyes squeezed tight as you felt it coming, Connie's grip on your throat increasing. "Yeah? You want me to make that lil' pussy cum for me?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave, making you lose control of yourself.
"Sì!" you moaned. "Yes, please, please, Daddy!" But then...he stopped. Your eyes opened in shock as he paused mid-thrust, looking very disappointed in you. "Uh-uh. Not yet, princessa. You ain't do what I asked you to do."
"What?" you dumbly asked, discombulated from being fucked within an inch of your life to not anymore. Connie clucked his tongue at you, shaking his head like a disappointed father. “I don’t see them eyes on that mirror, sexy.”
Fear shot in your stomach as he pulled out, smacking his cock against your pussy before he moved away from you entirely. You sat up, confused and sexually frustated. “What are you doing?” you panted.
Connie smirked as he laid back on the bed, slowly pumping his hard cock for you as he waited for you to join him. “Hop up. I want you to ride me and don’t you fuckin’ dare take your eyes off yourself. I’m close and so are you, so you’d better make it count.”
You were a little nervous about sitting on him since you were so much bigger now with the baby, but Connie's grip was secure as you crawled on top of him, pressing his dick against your entrance. You tensed as he gripped your hips, pushing his legs up to keep you upright. "You won't fall, baby. I've gotchu. You trust me, right?"
You stared down into those eyes that you loved for so long and continued to. "Yes," you replied. "With my life." He smiled, his cock twitching against your pussy impatiently. "Then bring that ass down here and ride this fuckin' dick."
And with a smile, you did as you were told and gave Connie the ride of his fucking life. You put it down heavy, your ass smacking against his thighs, as your pussy sucked in his cock, getting it wet and sticky with your honey, drawing the sluttiest noises out of both of you. "Fuck, that's it!" he moaned as he held onto you for dear life. "Bounce on that fuckin' dick, babe! You love takin' Papì's fat dick, don't you?"
"Fuck, Con, yes!" you whined. "Yes, I love it! I-I love you so, so much, Papì!" You gripped his chest as you alternated between bouncing on his dick and grinding so you could stroke your clit against his pelvis. Any move you did made sparks of pleasure explode through you, making you lose your grip on reality.
"Fuckin' prove it then," he growled. "Fuck me back and cum for me. Watch yourself cum all over my cock, mi amor. Look at how perfect you are."
You did as you were told and stared in the mirror across the room. "Who's that pretty girl ridin' dick, hm?" Connie groaned out. You stared at the woman bouncing on the fat cock in her, her juicy tits bouncing in time out of her dress, her plump stomach on full display with the dress hiked up over your hips. She glowed from her toes to the tip of her head, so free, screaming sex.
Yes. That pretty girl was you. You were beautiful.
You watched your tits and fresh curls bounce around your shoulders more as Connie fucked you back, pistoning his hips up like a jackhammer.
"Sì, sì, sì!" he panted, each word leaving his lips like a mantra as he got closer to his orgasm, his cock swelling and throbbing inside of you. You could feel yourself getting close again, that knot in your core about to snap. "M'gonna cum soon, Con," you whimpered.
"Cum for me then, baby!" Connie moaned, moving a hand between you to rub your clit, desperate to get you there. "Don't hold back."
But you did. There was only one thing that could help you get there. "I wanna cum with you," you begged. "Please cum with me, baby. Fill me up...please?" Then you tossed your ass back in a way that massaged his balls, making his toes curl and his mouth open on a moan.
"Aww, my baby can only cum if her man cums with her," he cooed. "So fuckin' adorable...so fuckin' mine!"
Together, you fucked the shit out of each other, meeting each other's thrusts. When you slammed yourself down, Connie thrusted up, giving you deep dicking from below, your moans, gasps, and whines collaborating and mashing together to fill the bedroom smelling of mingled body spray and sex.
"You're too beautiful," he groaned. "Ay coño, I can't fuckin' stand it, babe! You're gonna m-make me—"
"Cum with me!" you whined. "Please, Connie, cum inside me! Gimme another baby! Please!"
And then, finally, something magical happened. With a moan of his name on your lips and a swear in Spanish on his, you and your husband came at the same time. Pleasure exploded through the both of you, shared between you, bonding you to one another for that one moment as you reached your pinical together.
You felt Connie blow a very fat, wet, creamy load inside of your pussy, shooting up your club until your eyes fluttered and rolled back while you came, creaming all over his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm as you collapsed against him, totally exhausted.
"Sh-sh-shit!" he hissed out, hugging you tight against him. He stammered and shook as he continued to cum, pushing his spunk deep into your pussy even as it dripped down your thighs and over your ass crack. "C'mere," he hissed before his lips were fiercely on yours.
You kissed, moaning into each other's mouths until finally, exhaustion took over and the high faded. You both began to softly laugh as Connie rolled you both over onto your sides so you were facing each other. He smiled at you, skin to skin, body to body. "You okay, mama?" he purred. "Was I too rough?"
You smiled as he sweetly caressed your cheek, pushing stray curls out of your face. "No," you giggled. "You were perfect."
"So were you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. And look! Not a stain on that pretty dress!" You laughed as you examined your dress and sure enough, there was nothing. Not even cum! "You feel better now?" he cooed.
You dragged yourself over to him, pressing yourself into his chest, needing to feel him against you. "Yes. Thank you, hubby. I'm sorry I was being so stupid."
Connie tutted, muttering, "Nonsense. Never that. And you're welcome, wifey. It's always a pleasure to show you how precious you are." His hand trailed down to caress your stomach, loving and adoring. "You and this little bun in the oven...maybe two buns now."
You nearly burst with happiness at the thought of starting a family with Connie. One full of love and no judgment. Nothing but happiness. You tilted your face up to kiss him, slow and passionate. "I love you, Connie."
Connie smiled against your lips, holding you close. "I love you too, baby. No matter what shape or size. You're beautiful no matter what form."
BEEP-BEEP!
"Shit, that's our ride!" he announced, instantly popping up to get dressed. "Let me get dressed so we can leave." Quickly, because time was of the essence though all you wanted to do was lay with your husband in the after-sex glow, you began to get ready too. "Okay! Let me just get some new panties."
Connie shook his head as he yanked on some new briefs and pants, fastening them. "Nah, leave those off. I'm gonna need easy access later." He smirked at you as you scowled at him, pretending to be disgusted by his perviness.
SMACK! You squeaked when he smacked your naked ass beneath your dress, already setting up a possible second round at the club. "Now let's get you in that club so I can make all the other dudes jealous that I knocked up such a baddie."
You smiled at him, your wedding ring glistening around your finger as you stared at yourself in the mirror, accepting and loving. "Yes, Papì."
Your face was buried in your pillows, ass hiked alllll the way up as Toji pounded you with his thick, veiny cock.
“Always squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight” he snarls, delivering a firm smack! to your ass, both hands spreading it roughly.
“Ngh- Toji, fuck!” you moan, biting down on the pillow below you. He was so fucking big compared to you, thrusts brutal and relentless.
God, he fucked you so good every time, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish for a change of pace sometimes- something slower, more intimate.
You lift your head slightly from the pillows to say something when Toji pushes it back down, large hand gripping the back of your neck.
“Head down, ass up, stop squirmin’” he rasps, large frame leaning over your smaller one, forcing his cock deeper into your sopping hole.
“Toji I- ah! Wait, just-”
He yanks your head back up by your hair, chin resting on top of your shoulder as he pants hot against your ear.
You were practically flat against the bed, helpless beneath him.
“Got something’ to say, huh? Interrupting me while I fuck this greedy cunt?” He licks your ear before nipping it with his teeth, making you yelp.
It’s now or never.
“Jus thought m-maybe you could- mmph- go slower.”
Your boyfriend was so taken back by your words he stopped fucking you altogether, the loss of friction making you whine childishly.
“Got a problem with the way I fuck you, doll?” he responds, punctuating his words with a particularly hard thrust.
You mumble incoherently, gripping the sheets below you for some type of much needed stability.
“Huh? Speak up.”
"N-no!” you cry out, “jus’ wanted to try something different…” you whimper.
He pauses again for a second, the room going silent besides the sound of both of you catching your breath.
Toji didn’t do slow. But for you, he’d try.
“…Fine” he says with a sigh, turning you over onto your back effortlessly, glistening cunt on full display as he lines himself back up with your entrance.
“Least let me see this pretty face while I do” he grunts, pushing his length back inside of you.
He rolls his hips against you, deep, slow thrusts that make your head spin. You grip his biceps, bulky veins pulsating beneath your hand.
You moan shamelessly, head thrown back against the pillow as his cock massages the deepest parts of you.
You look at him with watery, half lidded eyes, his jaw clenched from holding himself back.
“This what you wanted, huh?” he groans, your pussy squeezing him so fucking tight, fluttering around every thick inch.
“Y-yes, feels s’good baby” you moan breathily.
If there was one thing he hated, it was admitting he was wrong. But his body was doing all the talking, his cock beginning to throb as he neared his peak.
His thumb finds your swollen clit, rubbing it in unhurried circles as he picks up the pace jusssttt a little- your thighs shaking as you cream deliciously on his dick for what felt like the hundredth time tonight.
“So fuckin’ pretty f’me when you cum” he groans, leaning in to press a sloppy kiss to your lips.
“Want you to- ngh- fill me up” you mewl against his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist, forcing him in deeper.
“Fuck, yeah- keep talkin’ like that baby” he pants, angry red tip beginning to leak.
“Wan your cum so b-bad” you continue, his eyes locked onto yours.
You were the prettiest sight, cheeks flushed pink as you beg for his load so sweetly. With that, he snaps, grunting loudly as he spurts copious amounts of cum into your heat.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” you chuckle, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close, his cock plugging your hole to keep his load from weeping out.
“Shut up” he mumbles, burying his face into your neck.
AN; ib a post i saw a few hours ago but it was sukuna x reader. pls tag them if u know who as i cant find it !!
Pairing: Hubby/NBA Player!Connie x Black!Pregnant!Wifey!Reader (Based on my headcanon HERE!)
Synopsis: After an extremely grueling basketball season, Titans champion Connie Springer is ready to start his night off right with his beautiful trophy...and no, not the trophy he got from winning the most anticipated game of the season. He means you, his adorable wife carrying his unborn child. But what should be a long night of clubbing turns into something hotter when he suspects that you're feel unconscious in your new dress due to the bun cookin' in your oven. How does your hubby resolve this? By bending you over and giving you a quickie in your dress, of course!
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI); No Titan/Modern AU; Married AU; Sports AU; Body Insecurity; Latino!Connie; Some Spanish; Soft Dom!Connie x sub!Reader; Lactation Kink; Some Degradation ("Puta"); Praise; F*cking in the Mirror; Fingering; Pussy-Eating; Tongue Piercing; Tattoo Kink; Quickie Sex; Clothed!Reader x Naked!Connie; Mating Press; Riding; Connie F*cking You From the Bottom; Reader Cums 2x; Raw Creampie; Breeding
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer's Note: I'm so happy I was able to get this out!! I'm on a little weekend trip & got so caught up in work/school that I was afraid i wouldn't be able to make it to the end of May. This is a little fic for my Connie's b-day (month since i missed the day lmaoo) inspired by @laylathegoddesss's Eren x Pregnant!Reader fic. Please go give her stuff a read!! She's AMAZING!! i hope y'all enjoy!! <3 -love, Jazz
You stood in the full-length mirror leaning against the bedroom wall, staring at the plump woman standing in front of you.
Her stomach protruded so obviously from underneath her skin-tight black mini dress that it would've comical if the woman wasn't you.
Despite your 12-inch buss down flowing down your back in soft, black curls, soft, glamorous makeup, and gorgeous heels, you don't feel any bit of sexy, fabulous, or desirable. Unlike the trophy your husband treats you as, like the one he won earlier today at his championship game.
You ran your hands over your very pregnant stomach, your lips, slick with Fenty Beauty Lip Bomb gloss, downturning into a deepened frown. 'I look so fat in this.'
The thought came out of nowhere, conjured by the way the soft, black fabric of the bodycon dress stuck to your form, stretching over your stomach in the most embarrassing way possible. You would've loved the dress on your unpregnant, smaller body, but now? It made you look like a joke.
You didn't have time to inspect your tummy any more than you already have when you hear your husband calling from the bathroom down the hall. "Baby!" he called. "You ready yet? The ride will be here soon!"
"Uh...just a minute!" you called back. "I'm just puttin' on my earrings." You quickly waddled over to your vanity where you plucked up two diamond earrings that your husband bought you last Christmas. Just as you turned back around as you're fastening them, your husband is there, leaning against the bedroom door.
Connie Springer was truly the apple of everyone's eye...including yours. He was your husband. Your love. Your one and only. As the star player of his local basketball team “The Titans” and a member of the NBA, the Japanese-Latino player was no stranger to affection, both wanted and unwanted. Even though he’d been with you for four years before proposing and marrying you, Connie was still getting affections from every woman sitting outside at his games.
And why not? Connie was truly a hottie with his tan skin and muscles that glistened in sweat on the court; his buzz cut to went so well with the 24k diamond studs in his ears; his tattoos inking up and down his right arm and muscular calve; his charming smile and green eyes they blazed with fire during a game before he shot a basket and blew you a kiss in the bleachers.
You couldn’t believe he chose you out of all of the women at your local game. Not a model or a singer or an actress. You, a simple city girl who owned her own bakery, though that wasn’t some small feat.
You just figured a basketball player would rather date a socialite. But after Jean Kristen, Connie’s friend and fellow Titan player, introduced you to Connie at a celebratory party you were catering for them, sparks flew and Connie was instantly attracted.
As were you. To his hot-headedness, protectiveness, and bold personality especially. Despite his height, Connie was irresistibly confident and that made him irresistibly sexy to you.
Your man didn’t play about you. You sat courtside at all his games. Traveled with him first class. Was kept locked at his side on the street or in his lap at the club, no matter the stares. He decked paparazzi in the face, knocking cameras that tried to snap flicks of you on the ground. He argued people down on Twitter and TikTok who bashed you, including the fuck ass Shade Room on IG. He even had a bodyguard walk around with you once he found out you were pregnant.
You were his woman and he wanted everyone to know that. Now, years later, married with a baby on the way, nothing has changed. Except your body.
"What?" you murmured, flushing hot at his intimately soft look. Connie was wearing an Armani shirt with jeans, the cuffs rolled up to expose his yummy tattoos. The simple silver chain glistened like his stud earrings, making your stomach flip.
"You're just...perfect," he sighed, his jade eyes rolling over your body. "Can't believe how fuckin' lucky I am to have you." You flushed, biting back a smile. Of course, he’d say that. "You don't think it's too..."
You trailed off, biting your lip. As your husband slunk into the room, you twisted around to face the mirror. Your body seemed to change over night from the baby—wider hips, bigger stomach, larger tits plump with milk, a fatter ass, etc.
Though you’d take the fat ass and titties, the stomach is a whole other issue. At six months, you feel like a walking hippo. A balloon about to pop. You had to switch your wardrobe due to your weight gain.
"Too what, mama?" Connie murmured, coming up behind you to wrap his hands around your stomach. Something he always did. Despite his short height, he still stood a couple inches taller than you, the top of your head just brushing his chin. “Too...y'know...tight?" you asked, your eyes facing down at your tummy.
Connie pressed himself against you, giving you a feel of his bulge. “It ain't tight enough," he murmured against your neck. "Love it when you wear that sexy shit. I want everyone to know that your fine ass is mines." His hand cascaded down to your ass, possessively squeezing it.
"Like the big ass rock on my finger don't say that," you giggled, admiring the gorgeous diamond ring in the 24k gold band he slid on your finger at your highly-anticipated wedding. He smacked your behind at the little remark, making you squeak (and gush into your very expensive Savage X Fenty panties).
God, you loved how rough and hard Connie’s hands were! He was a grabber—always grabbing your waist, your ass, your tits, your tummy. He loved to grip your hair and pin your thighs back during sex, grab your throat and palm whatever he could. It always made you feel so kept and desirable, but lately, not even your man's handsiness could stop these insecure feelings taking over you.
“Really, Con, is this okay to wear for your party? With my tummy and all?" He met your gaze in the mirror, confused painted across his face. “Baby, why you askin' me that? You look amazing!" He paused, brows furrowed. "Why? You don't think so?"
Quickly, you tried to backtrack. The last thing you wanted was for him to worry about you on his big night. He just won a championship game earlier today! Tonight was to celebrate HIM! "No, no, it's not that! I-I was just wonderin' is all. Since we'll be around your team and big names in the sports business."
Connie was still giving you a concerned look, but you masked your true feelings with a plastic smile, draping your arms around his neck. "It's nothin', babe, really! I'm almost done anyway." Your husband looked like he wanted to say more, but his phone ringing in his pocket stopped him short. He slipped it out and read the text over.
He groaned, irked that the moment was ruined over some BS. "Shit, my driver just texted me sayin' he had a family emergency. Lemme order an Uber real quick." He gave you a quick kiss on the lips before he shot out of the bedroom, already on the phone with his driver.
As soon as he was gone, you waddled over to your walk-in closet and dug through your clothes for another dress. You had quite the collection, ranging from the business-like, sophisticated gowns to the tighest, sexiest club dresses. All kinds of designer—Gucci, Versace, Dior, Dolce & Gabbana—stared back at you, most from when your body was a lot smaller.
You felt tears burn in your eyes as you stared at them, grieving your old shape, but you pushed them away and picked out an off-the-shoulder black dress with a skater skirt flared to conceal your stomach. It wasn't at all the kind of sexy, jaw-dropping dress you had on before and even pulling it on, you felt internally guilty for changing clothes.
After you had the new dress on, you didn't feel any better. In fact, you felt worse. So much so that you sat on the edge of the bed you shared every night with your husband and felt like you could cry from how low you felt. You placed a hand on your stomach, feeling so many emotions that battled with each other.
If Connie hadn't came back upstairs whistling so happily, you would've definitely begun crying. Damn hormons.
"Alright, my beautiful wife! Let's getcha outta here so we can..." He abruptly paused, his full, pink lips turning into a worried frown. "Hey, what's up?" He knew from the moment he entered the room that you were down. He could read you like a book.
"Huh? O-Oh, I'm fine! I just got winded." But Connie didn’t smile back. He knew it was a shit lie. Worriedly, he sat beside you on the bed and placed a comforting hand on your thigh. "Baby, if you don't think you're up for this party, we can always stay home."
You gaped at him, upset at him even suggesting such a thing. "What?! Nooo! Connie, you just won a championship game and everybody is lookin' forward to seein' you! It's important!" Connie pulled a stern face, holding your hands firmly in his.
"You're important," he firmly replied. "You and my baby." His hand ran over your stomach, right over the gold buttons running down your dress. “Why'd you change your dress?" he bluntly asked, those green eyes daring you to lie to him.
You looked away, biting your lip. Usually, being vulnerable with Connie wasn't a battle, but this time? It was a damn war.
"I just...didn't like how the other one looked on me." The silence that stuck in the air was tense and thick. Connie was obviously upset with your confession, but he didn't show it just yet. "Why?" he demanded. "And don't try to bat your lashes outta this one, mi amor. Tell me what's goin on up here."
You felt tears prick your eyes, threatening to burst and ruin your makeup. You stared down at Connie's knuckle tattoos, unable to stare him in the eyes. "I-I...I just don't think I look sexy anymore. I feel ugly and fat a-and—oh!" Suddenly, you were over Connie’s lap with your ass tooted in the air for him.
"Connie?!" you gasped, looking back at him as he splayed you across his lap. "What are you—"
"Shut up," he snapped. "I don't wanna hear nothin' but those pretty little moans outta you.” Quickly, he hiked your dress up to show off your lace panties nestled between your plump asscheeks etched in tiger stripes and—
Rrrriiiip!
"Con!" you gasped. “Those were new!” You pouted as he flung the flimsy lace undies away somewhere across the room. “I’ll get you new ones. Now be quiet and take your punishment, wifey.” Before you could take a single breath, your husband was raising his hand over your ass and striking it down hard on your asscheeks.
SPANK!
You gasped and flinched as if you weren't aware that he was about to do this. Connie loved all of you, but he was an ass guy down to the T. He couldn't get enough of squeezing, smacking, grabbing, and caressing your butt every chance he got, even after matches right on national television.
But he especially loved hanging you over his knee and spanking you, just to hear you moan and scream for him. He loved punishing you just to see those tears and feel how wet you got from the sparks of pain and pleasure mixing into one intoxicating cocktail. “Ah! Con, wait!” you tried to protest. You squirmed, trying to free yourself, but Connie locked one arm around you to keep you there. “Ah-ah, you ain’t listenin’. That’s liable for another spank.”
SPANK!
You gasped as his hand came down again, much harder than before. You felt fire lick across your right asscheek, harsh and unbearable. “Ow!” you yelped, cringing at the pain. Your husband only watched, in love with the way your ass recoiled against his palm. “Hurts, mamas? That’s how I felt when you told me you changed your dress ‘cause you don’t think you looked sexy in it.”
SPANK!
He hit your left cheek this time, making your ass burn with a thousand fires all from his hand alone. “That’s how I feel whenever you feel insecure about that body of yours. The one I love so, so much.”
SPANK!
“Do you have any idea how fuckin’ hot you are? How many men would kill to snatch you up and take you away from me?”
SPANK!
“How many men would love to breed you? Give you a baby like I did?”
SPANK! SPANK!
“Do you like to hurt me, baby? You wanna see me heartbroken over you? Is that it, mamì?”
You were surprised you could even speak. Connie's assault on your ass has left you twitching and hot all over, your ass raw from the spankings. You also were wetter than you ever remember being since the negative feelings over your pregnant body. "N-No," you softly whimpered.
SPANK!
You let out a loud whine in anguish at the agonizing singe of Connie's assault on your ass, the fire against your cheeks getting much worse. "What was that, mama? I couldn't hear you." You were shaking as you replied, tongue-tied and teary-eyed. “N-No, Papì! I’m sorry! I just felt insecure!”
You sniffled as Connie began to rub his hand over your asscheeks, soothing the burn. "And why the fuck do you feel that, huh?" he growled. "Do you even realize how sexy you are? How hard you get me all the fuckin' time?"
You felt it now underneath you, pushing against your stomach. His hard cock chubbing against hiss slacks. "Connie," you whined. "That's so lewd." You tried not to rub against it, not wanting to throw in the towel and admit defeat just yet. "And you love it," he chuckled. "My good little girl."
The pet name made your stomach flip, his pet names always being your weakness. Your krypnonite. "But I'm not little," you muttered. Connie paused, quirking an eyebrow down at your little self-deprocating remark. "Oh, no?"
You squeaked as he suddenly yanked you up and placed you on his lap, your back meeting his front. He locked one arm around your midsection, placing you right on top of his bulge. "Then why is it so easy to lift you up and put you wherever I want, hermosa? Why don't I break a sweat when I pick you up and fuck you, hm?"
He began to rub himself against your pussy, causing your gush to ooze onto his cock, staining his slacks. "P-Papì, don't," you whined. You bit your lip as you felt your puffy pussy lips split open, causing more of your honey to spill out and embarrassingly soak Connie's dickprint through his pants. "'Don't' nothin'," he growled. "Don't make me smack this pussy...unless ya want that."
His hand skated down your pussy, pressing right against your slit in anticipation of a smack. "Ooo, I think you do. She just gushed for me!" He tsked, nibbling your earlobe, making you whimper at the contact. "Still so slutty. Keep it up and I'mma give you another baby, baby."
Your teeth sunk deeper into your bottom lip, excitment coursing through you at the idea of your hubby giving you another raw creampie. "But I won't do that if you don't put the dress back on," he whispered in your ear. And just like that, your stomach pitted and turned to ice. When you turned to look at Connie, his eyes were fierce and all ablaze. He wasn't playing with you. "B-But—"
"So I guess you don't want your husband to make you feel good before our night out together?" he cut in, raising a brow at you. "You don't want him to bust a fat load in you?" You paused, your face hot and your pussy wet as his fingers toyed with it. Your body betrayed you, dammt. "Mmm-hmm, that's what I thought."
Together, he helped you stand and undressed you, taking good care of carefully unbuttoning each button on your dress until it was off. You felt so loved and special as he slid the skin-tight dress back on you, no panties included. Then he had you stand between his legs as he sat on the bedside, grinning at you.
"Theeeere's my sexy wife!" he cooed. "Spin for me, mama." You tried to bite back your smile, but your joy took over as you twirled for him, giggling when he groaned at the sight of your ass pushing against the fabric. "Baby, THIS is what made you insecure? Dios mio, turn around and look at yourself."
He took your hands in his, pressing a sweet kiss to each knuckle. "You're beautiful, baby bump or not. But the fact that you're hold a little me or you in there makes you ten times more gorgeous." His hands released yours to hold your stomach, pressing a kiss to it before posessievely yanking down the window to your dress that showed off your cleavage.
You let out a little intake of breath as each of your full tits popped out for him, hanging like ripe fruit for him.
"Connie," you whined. Your husband was mesmorized as he massaged and held each tit in his hands, his thumbs running over the hard nubs. "Look at these full tits," he murmured before he leaned in to suck on each, his tongue swirling around the hardened peaks.
You moaned, knees almost buckling as he sucked and toyed with your nipples until he moaned in surprise as liquid leaked out of your nipples. Milk. "Lactating already, mama?" he chuckled. You flushed, realizing that this wasn't a kink you both explored. "I started early for the baby. Is that okay?"
Connie's eyes flashed with a lustful fire as he practically stuffed his face in your tits, motorboating you and making you giggle. "That's more than okay. Fuck, you taste so fuckin' good, mama." "He continued to suck on your tits, drawing milk out of the hard, brown peaks as you moaned and whimpered, gripping onto him for dear life. "Look at me. Look at how hard you've got your man."
You did so, finding that his cock has grown in his slacks, twitching and pulsing against his fly as if he was about to bust out. "Yeah? You want this dick right now?" He paused, gripping his cock in his hand, palming himself to your heart's content.
"Yes, please, Papì." You tried to touch him yourself, but he stopped you, shaking his head. "Mmm...not yet. You gotta earn this dick first. Lay back f'me, but don't take your eyes off the mirror. I've gotta make my wife feel good, don't I?" He gave a wolfish grin that was so Connie-like that you giggled, all of those pesky little negative thoughts about yourself starting to vanish.
You bit your lip and watch him as he knelt down in front of you and opened your legs. When he got a look at your soaked little pussy, puffy from arousal and glistening for him, he almost looked pained. “Goddamn, mama,” he hissed. “You’re so wet f'me. You didn't need them little panties anymore.”
His eyes flicked up to yours, his hands laying on your thighs. ‘Okay?’ his eyes asked.
Wordlessly, you nodded, unable to speak. But he wasn't satisfied. He began to brush his fingers up and down your wet slit, paying close attention to your reactions. “No es suficiente, hermosa (Not enough, beautiful). Words, baby,” he growled. “Gimme words.”
SMACK!
His hand smacked lightly against your pussy, making you yelp in pleasure and your pussy throb against his palm. “Yes!” you moaned, your pretty red-painted toes curling in your heels. “Please, Con…please touch me.”
He gave you a devastating smile at your pitiful reaction, but didn't keep you waiting. He split your thighs wider, causing your pussy lips to slightly split and expose your dripping hole for him. “Shit!” he hisses, gaping at your sex. “You have the prettiest pussy, mamì. I can't believe I get this all the time."
“Thank y–!” But your words were cut off by a sudden gasp as Connie leaned in and began suckling on your clit and eating your pussy like a starving man. He was relentless with his tongue slashes, flicks, and long licks up and down your slit.
He moved his tongue like he was a master at eating pussy, paying close attention to your reactions even though you had this mouth over a thousand times before. But every time was still fucking amazing.
You moaned and whimpered above him, your fingers carding through his buzzcut as your other hand moved down to your pussy, trying to make Connie ease up on his immaculate, fast pussy-eating. "Ah, f-fuck...w-wait, Con, b-baby! Do we...oh, shit yes! Do you have time to do this?"
Your husband paused, his forest-green eyes boring into yours. "Who cares? We'll get there when we get there. Now move your hands before I move 'em for you." You gushed at the dominance in his tone, loving it when he shifted into such a demanding, bossy mood. "You're gonna ruin my dress, babe."
Your husband smirked, teasingly licking you from slit to asshole with his fat tongue, the cold metal of his tongue piercing making you moan. "Shouldn't I be sayin' that?" he chuckled. "You seem mad animate 'bout it now when you was the one who didn't wanna wear it."
He slid your dress up higher, exposing a bit of your pregnant stomach to him as you leaned back, both of your holes on full display for him. Connie loved you like that: slutty, open, and vulnerable on his bed. "I'll get you another one. It wouldn't be the first time I did that; besides, I paid for it."
And he did. He saw the dress in a window and immediately thought of you, FaceTiming you to show you. "You like this, amor?" he had asked, flashing you the slinky dress through the phone as he popped his gum. "I thought you could add this to your lil' club dress collection."
"B-But it was for your party," you whined, squirming as your husband wiggled his tongue in a way that made your eyes roll back. Connie glared at you from between your thighs, pissed that you're interrupting his meal. "Fuck the dress. And motherfuck the party."
You laughed but it turned into a breathy moan as he slurped at your pussy, drinking in every drop of your arousal you could give. "You say that now till Jean takes half the basketball cake. You know he's greedy for my cake."
Connie's eyes flashed with lust as he forced your thighs to your chest, stretching you completely open for him, exposing your ass to him. "I am too. And if Jean knows what's good for him, he'd better stay the fuck away from both."
You writhed and grinded your hips against his mouth as he dove back in, trying to get him closer. Your pussy pushed into his pillowy-soft lips and wet tongue that drew shapes and wrote hois name across your wet, swollen pussy lips and needy little clit. "God, baby!" you moaned. "Please faster! I-I need to cum in your mouth!"
Connie hummed in enjoyment, making the most salaciously lewd sounds as his tongue swirled in your wetness. "The feeling's mutual, mi amor," he cooed. He then pulled away from you, lips glistening with your juices. "How 'bout you..."
He sat on the edge of the bed and patted his lap, making your seat hot for you. Pat, pat. "Hop up here in my lap, hm? I wanna feel your pussy squeeze 'round my fingers when I finally make you cum."
He nodded at the mirror across the bed facing the bed, his expression hot. "But I'll only make you cum if you keep lookin' in that mirror at yourself. I want you to watch yourself gush 'round my fingers f'me, okay?"
Connie always loved him some mirror sex...and so did you. You loved watching his pretty face contort in pleasure when he sunk in your pussy, railing you with all that he had until he blew a fat load in you. You felt your body tingle in arousal and excitement, your pussy thinking for you. "Uh...can you get naked first?"
He grinned at you, already popping onto his feet to undress. "What a little puta my wife is! God, I'm so lucky!"
Connie was right: fuck the party. As soon as he was down to his briefs, showing off every mouth-watering muscle, tattoo, and the ridges of his fat cock in his briefs, you weren't thinking about anything else but getting more of him.
And once you were sitting in his lap, all thoughts of going anywhere flew out the window. Because your husband had you locked in his lap, thighs spread, with two fingers stuffed inside of your pussy, making you watch him finger-fuck your brains out in the mirror.
Your mouth was a permanent O as you moaned and whined from Connie teasing you wet entrance, sliding his fingers in and out, slowly pumping them and curling them up till you keened. “So needy,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your neck as he continued, his expression lustful as he watched you in the mirror. "Mmm, that's it. So wet f'me. Feel so fuckin' good."
He dug his nose into the long curls cascading down your back as he got you closer, closer. The edges of your vision blurred as you raced towards your orgasm, your moans bouncing off of the wall. Your eyes closed as bliss took over, your clit throbbing. "Connie, m'close!" you slurred. "I'm gonna cum soon!"
“Que?” Connie immediately stopped, leaving his fingers in you. “And who the fuck said you could do that? I don't see your eyes on that mirror." Your eyes opened, staring at the pregnant woman with the brown skin and full lips, her pussy on full display in her man's lap.
"Look at yourself," he demanded. "Look at that goddess. Who's that pretty girl gettin' her pussy fucked?" He slowly pulled his fingers out of you and began to rub at your clit, making you groan from the sweet pleasure. "M-Me," you stammered.
SMACK!
You gasped as Connie slapped your pussy again, the sharpness of his hit almost making you gush. "Louder! Who is she?!" Then his fingers were back inside, pumping, stroking, pushing you towards a much-needed nut. "Me! It's me, Papì! I know I'm beautiful and gorgeous and...fuck, I'm gonna cum!"
Connie grinned into your neck, kissing behind you ear the way you liked; the shit that made you melt. "That's my good girl. Now cum for me.” And after a few more thrusts and some teasing moans in your ear that turned you into a puddle, you came on your husband's thick fingers.
The ink lacing his knuckles looked sinful, especially since his fingers were stuffed so nicely inside of you, sticky and glistening with your pussy juices. He made you cum the only way Connie Springer, NBA player, and your husband/baby daddy, could: hard and intense.
Your eyes rolled back and you twitched in his lap as your orgasm washed over you, taking you through space. When you finally came down, you were dizzy and supremely satisfied, feeling like the sexiest bitch to walk the earth. Connie peppered your face in kisses, making you giggle. “Muy bien (very good), baby! That’s my good lil' listener. Look at the mess ya made.”
He pulled his fingers out of you and pressed them, wet and sticky, against your bottom lip. “Now you gotta clean it up.” You pried your mouth open, sucking on his digits as you stared at him in the mirror. “Now what do you say?” he whispered, one hand lacing around your throat.
You swallowed as he squeezed, the act making your pussy throb. “Thank you, Papì.” He smiled, kissing your lips. “You’re welcome, baby. Feel better now?”
You did...but you couldn't let him know that. You needed his dick like you needed air to breathe. There was NO FUCKING WAY you could leave this house without getting dicked down by your man. “Not really. I could use a little more persuasion.”
He clocked that sexy little purr as you spoke, his eyes growing lustful. “Little slut. Of course, you could. Well—“
Ding-ding! Groaning, Connie snatched his phone from across the bed and looked at the notification there. “Damn. Ride will be here in 15 minutes.” Disappointment flooded in you. That meant no fucking until the party was over...which could've been 2AM for all you knew. “Oh. Well, we can always finish when we get home.”
Connie scrunched his face at you, disgusted by such a statement. “Da fuck? No way are you leavin’ this bed without gettin’ my dick in you.”
With ease, he scooped you up in his arms and placed you on your back on the bed. “B-But, Connie. Our ride—“
“Can wait. He knows who the fuck he’s pickin’ up, plus I tipped him extra.” Then he was snatching off his briefs, freeing his big, beautiful, fat, veiny cock from its prison, making your stomach flip with anticipation. “Now lay back f’me, baby. I can make you cum in 10.”
You had no doubt that he could, but the thing was once you and Connie started fucking, a quickie could turn into a two-hour fuck session. Nasty, sticky, wet, and messy: just the way you both enjoyed.
And staring into his moltenly-hot eyes, you knew that this would probably be either a quickie or an hour-long session depending on how he was feeling. “Just keep your eyes on that mirror. Am I clear?” He gripped your chin and forced it back, making you stare at yourself hanging off of the bed upside down in the mirror. “Y-Yes, sir," you whimpered.
Turned out that was hard to do when your husband was fucking you so good. He put you on your side to make it easier on your tummy and fucked you from the side, pumping his cock in and out of your dripping pussy, making the bed squeal and you make such slutty sounds. "Ah! Ah, fuck, Connie, yes!" you wailed. "Please do it faster! Harder!"
Your man hovered above you, hands gripping your ass and thighs, trailing over your tiger stripes, relishing every womanly part of you. "Yeah? That's how you want it?" he grunted. "Even while pregnant, you still wanna be put in the mattress. Dios miyo, what a sexy lil' whore I've got for a wife."
He put his foot up on the bed and thrusted in a way that put himself deeper, making you feel every inch of him. He pumped himself inside, in and out like a machine, never slowing or stopping. "I'm a whore for ya too, y'know," he panted. "I can't play one fuckin' game without thinkin' 'bout comin' home to you and fuckin' this pussy...makin' you cum over."
He smacked your ass hard, the sting mixing with the pleasure of your pussy being filled and your clit stroked against his toned stomach. "And over."
He flipped you onto your back, pushing your thighs up to stretch you, make you take him more. "And over again. 'Cause you fuckin' deserve it, baby. You deserve everything!"
You were losing your grip on reality, staring at your husband fuck you stupid in the mirror. "F-Fuck, Papì! You're so deep!" He met your eyes in the mirror, his pretty face and muscles adorned with tattoos and his tan skin glistening in sweat. "Tell me where you feel me, mamì. Tell me where my cock is."
You trailed a hand down to your plump, pregnant stomach, your manicure glistening at him. "Here. R-Right here." Connie grinned, loving to hear how much his dick had you going insane. "Maybe I can give you another creampie. Give my baby another baby...if that even works."
You had no idea, but the idea of being bred with another child by your husband made you want to squirt right there! "We can find out," you purred.
Connie smiled at you, flashing those pearly whites as he leaned down to give you a sloppy kiss, all tongue. "We sure can, mi amor. If you–shit–keep takin' that dick like that, I'll definitely give you another raw load." He fucked you harder, faster, deeper, making the bedsprings creak in protest below you. "How's that, hm?! That feel good?!"
He yelled at you as he fucked you dumb into your marital bed, his gold band listening at you as he held your throat. "Ye-e-esss!" you hiccuped, each word a jumbled meshment of words as you headed towards another fat nut. "Ohmygod, Con, I'm gonna cum soon! I'm s-so close!"
Your eyes squeezed tight as you felt it coming, Connie's grip on your throat increasing. "Yeah? You want me to make that lil' pussy cum for me?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave, making you lose control of yourself.
"Sì!" you moaned. "Yes, please, please, Daddy!" But then...he stopped. Your eyes opened in shock as he paused mid-thrust, looking very disappointed in you. "Uh-uh. Not yet, princessa. You ain't do what I asked you to do."
"What?" you dumbly asked, discombulated from being fucked within an inch of your life to not anymore. Connie clucked his tongue at you, shaking his head like a disappointed father. “I don’t see them eyes on that mirror, sexy.”
Fear shot in your stomach as he pulled out, smacking his cock against your pussy before he moved away from you entirely. You sat up, confused and sexually frustated. “What are you doing?” you panted.
Connie smirked as he laid back on the bed, slowly pumping his hard cock for you as he waited for you to join him. “Hop up. I want you to ride me and don’t you fuckin’ dare take your eyes off yourself. I’m close and so are you, so you’d better make it count.”
You were a little nervous about sitting on him since you were so much bigger now with the baby, but Connie's grip was secure as you crawled on top of him, pressing his dick against your entrance. You tensed as he gripped your hips, pushing his legs up to keep you upright. "You won't fall, baby. I've gotchu. You trust me, right?"
You stared down into those eyes that you loved for so long and continued to. "Yes," you replied. "With my life." He smiled, his cock twitching against your pussy impatiently. "Then bring that ass down here and ride this fuckin' dick."
And with a smile, you did as you were told and gave Connie the ride of his fucking life. You put it down heavy, your ass smacking against his thighs, as your pussy sucked in his cock, getting it wet and sticky with your honey, drawing the sluttiest noises out of both of you. "Fuck, that's it!" he moaned as he held onto you for dear life. "Bounce on that fuckin' dick, babe! You love takin' Papì's fat dick, don't you?"
"Fuck, Con, yes!" you whined. "Yes, I love it! I-I love you so, so much, Papì!" You gripped his chest as you alternated between bouncing on his dick and grinding so you could stroke your clit against his pelvis. Any move you did made sparks of pleasure explode through you, making you lose your grip on reality.
"Fuckin' prove it then," he growled. "Fuck me back and cum for me. Watch yourself cum all over my cock, mi amor. Look at how perfect you are."
You did as you were told and stared in the mirror across the room. "Who's that pretty girl ridin' dick, hm?" Connie groaned out. You stared at the woman bouncing on the fat cock in her, her juicy tits bouncing in time out of her dress, her plump stomach on full display with the dress hiked up over your hips. She glowed from her toes to the tip of her head, so free, screaming sex.
Yes. That pretty girl was you. You were beautiful.
You watched your tits and fresh curls bounce around your shoulders more as Connie fucked you back, pistoning his hips up like a jackhammer.
"Sì, sì, sì!" he panted, each word leaving his lips like a mantra as he got closer to his orgasm, his cock swelling and throbbing inside of you. You could feel yourself getting close again, that knot in your core about to snap. "M'gonna cum soon, Con," you whimpered.
"Cum for me then, baby!" Connie moaned, moving a hand between you to rub your clit, desperate to get you there. "Don't hold back."
But you did. There was only one thing that could help you get there. "I wanna cum with you," you begged. "Please cum with me, baby. Fill me up...please?" Then you tossed your ass back in a way that massaged his balls, making his toes curl and his mouth open on a moan.
"Aww, my baby can only cum if her man cums with her," he cooed. "So fuckin' adorable...so fuckin' mine!"
Together, you fucked the shit out of each other, meeting each other's thrusts. When you slammed yourself down, Connie thrusted up, giving you deep dicking from below, your moans, gasps, and whines collaborating and mashing together to fill the bedroom smelling of mingled body spray and sex.
"You're too beautiful," he groaned. "Ay coño, I can't fuckin' stand it, babe! You're gonna m-make me—"
"Cum with me!" you whined. "Please, Connie, cum inside me! Gimme another baby! Please!"
And then, finally, something magical happened. With a moan of his name on your lips and a swear in Spanish on his, you and your husband came at the same time. Pleasure exploded through the both of you, shared between you, bonding you to one another for that one moment as you reached your pinical together.
You felt Connie blow a very fat, wet, creamy load inside of your pussy, shooting up your club until your eyes fluttered and rolled back while you came, creaming all over his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm as you collapsed against him, totally exhausted.
"Sh-sh-shit!" he hissed out, hugging you tight against him. He stammered and shook as he continued to cum, pushing his spunk deep into your pussy even as it dripped down your thighs and over your ass crack. "C'mere," he hissed before his lips were fiercely on yours.
You kissed, moaning into each other's mouths until finally, exhaustion took over and the high faded. You both began to softly laugh as Connie rolled you both over onto your sides so you were facing each other. He smiled at you, skin to skin, body to body. "You okay, mama?" he purred. "Was I too rough?"
You smiled as he sweetly caressed your cheek, pushing stray curls out of your face. "No," you giggled. "You were perfect."
"So were you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. And look! Not a stain on that pretty dress!" You laughed as you examined your dress and sure enough, there was nothing. Not even cum! "You feel better now?" he cooed.
You dragged yourself over to him, pressing yourself into his chest, needing to feel him against you. "Yes. Thank you, hubby. I'm sorry I was being so stupid."
Connie tutted, muttering, "Nonsense. Never that. And you're welcome, wifey. It's always a pleasure to show you how precious you are." His hand trailed down to caress your stomach, loving and adoring. "You and this little bun in the oven...maybe two buns now."
You nearly burst with happiness at the thought of starting a family with Connie. One full of love and no judgment. Nothing but happiness. You tilted your face up to kiss him, slow and passionate. "I love you, Connie."
Connie smiled against your lips, holding you close. "I love you too, baby. No matter what shape or size. You're beautiful no matter what form."
BEEP-BEEP!
"Shit, that's our ride!" he announced, instantly popping up to get dressed. "Let me get dressed so we can leave." Quickly, because time was of the essence though all you wanted to do was lay with your husband in the after-sex glow, you began to get ready too. "Okay! Let me just get some new panties."
Connie shook his head as he yanked on some new briefs and pants, fastening them. "Nah, leave those off. I'm gonna need easy access later." He smirked at you as you scowled at him, pretending to be disgusted by his perviness.
SMACK! You squeaked when he smacked your naked ass beneath your dress, already setting up a possible second round at the club. "Now let's get you in that club so I can make all the other dudes jealous that I knocked up such a baddie."
You smiled at him, your wedding ring glistening around your finger as you stared at yourself in the mirror, accepting and loving. "Yes, Papì."
blood and sex. king! Sukuna x concubine! fem! reader
synopsis: Sukuna, the king of plagues, returns seriously injured from a battle and is being treated by his favorite concubine but he want fuck you.
warnings: NSFW (MDNI), some fluff, nipple playing, riding, cowgirl, missionary, belly tummy, breeding, multiple orgasms in a row, overstimulation, masturbation, eating pussy, cervix kissing, blood, sukuna in his true form and has two big dicks
a/n: thanks @twinklingstarinthesky for the request 🤭💕 And tysmmm for 4.8k followers!!💗
words: 6829.
The night has already fallen when the large doors of the palace open with a deafening crash. Sukuna, in his true form, advances with heavy and unsteady steps down the main corridor.
Dark blood flows abundantly from several deep wounds: a large gash crosses his right shoulder to the middle of his chest and another wound on his left flank. His four arms hang heavily, two of them weakly pressing against his wounds to contain the bleeding.
His four red eyes glow faintly, his lips are clenched, slightly parted on a silent groan of pain.
“My Lord! Let us treat you!” exclaims a healer running forward, hands trembling. “We have herbs and bandages, we can—”
A low, threatening growl escapes Sukuna’s throat. One of his upper arms sweeps the air with force, pushing everyone back.
“Don’t touch me, vermin.” His voice is hoarse, breathless, but still full of authority. “Where is she? Bring me Y/N. Right now.”
The servants bow deeply and step aside without arguing. A few moments later, you arrive running, your heart tight with anguish. As soon as he sees you, Sukuna lets out a hoarse sigh and continues toward his private chambers.
He collapses heavily onto the raised platform, his back against the thick cushions. His massive body trembles slightly from the effort. The blood continues to flow slowly along his tattoos, staining the silk sheets.
You rush to his side without waiting, already carrying clean cloths and supplies the healers gave you. Your hands tremble as you begin to clean the deep gash on his shoulder and chest.
The wound is irregular, the edges burned by enemy magic, and you see the flesh regenerating slowly, too slowly for your liking. The wound on his flank is bleeding even more, the mouth on his stomach clenched in pain every time you touch it.
“Sukuna…” you murmur, your voice tight.
He places one of his upper hands on the back of your neck, warm and heavy despite his weakness, and pulls you against him. Your face nestles against his chest. The smell of his blood envelops you.
“Stop shaking,” he growls softly, his voice tired. “It’s nothing… those insects couldn’t do anything more.”
“You’re still bleeding a lot,” you reply, throat tight. “I thought… when the servants came rushing to get me, I thought this time…”
A heavy silence settles. His four arms slowly surround you, pressing you possessively against his injured body. His four eyes stare at you with a weakened but burning intensity.
“I can’t die,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice low and hoarse. “Not as long as my pretty concubine is waiting for me here…”
One of his hands slides under your chin, gently lifting your face, and he kisses you. His lips are warm, pressing despite the pain, almost desperate. The kiss is slow, deep, loaded with everything he doesn’t say out loud.
You feel the mouth on his stomach part slightly against your belly, letting out a burning breath, while his arms hold you tighter against him.
You eventually place your hands on his chest and gently push him back, just enough to break the kiss. Your breath is short, your eyes shining with worry and determination.
“Let me treat you first,” you say firmly, your voice more assured than you really are. “You’re still losing a lot of blood. I can’t… I don’t want to lose you because of your pride.”
Sukuna stares at you for a long moment with his four eyes. A low growl rolls in his throat, half-amused, half-annoyed. The mouth on his stomach lets out a small hoarse chuckle. Despite the obvious pain, a carnivorous smile slowly stretches his lips.
“You dare push me away, little thing?” he murmurs, his voice deep and hoarse. Yet his arms loosen slightly around you, giving you just enough space to move.
You take advantage of this opening to pick up the clean cloths again. Your fingers are still trembling a little as you apply the care to the large gash on his shoulder, then to the one on his flank. Sukuna doesn’t take his eyes off you, his two lower arms remaining placed on your hips, wanting you close to him even in his weakness.
The flesh closes slowly, but the bleeding persists in places, staining your hands and the silk sheets. Sukuna remains still, his four arms placed around you, two of them absently caressing your back.
You feel his breathing become more regular, his strength returning little by little. His cursed regeneration does its work, even if the wounds remain impressive.
A few minutes pass in tense silence, broken only by the sound of the cloths and his hoarse breathing. You are focused on your task, carefully cleaning the deepest wound on his chest, when suddenly one of his upper hands slides over your waist, while another caresses your hip. His body now gives off a more vivid heat, a sign that he is recovering quickly.
“Enough,” he growls in a stronger, almost impatient voice. His four eyes shine with more intensity. “Come here. I want you now. You missed me on that battlefield, my favorite.”
You shake your head, refusing to let go of the cloth. “No. You’re still injured. Let me finish, Sukuna. It’s important.”
A low and dangerous laugh resonates in his chest. He grabs your hips with two of his arms, trying to pull you onto him despite your protests. The mouth on his stomach opens slightly, letting out a hot breath against your belly.
“Do you really think a few scratches will stop me?” he says, his voice harder this time, tinged with irritation from the persistent pain. “You’re just a concubine I tolerate by my side, nothing more. Stop playing healer and obey.”
The words hit you like a blade. Your heart clenches violently. You freeze, hands suspended above his wound. Your eyes mist over despite yourself. You know he is cruel by nature, but hearing him say it so coldly, after everything you do for him… it hurts.
Sukuna immediately notices the change on your face. His expression darkens. A heavy silence settles.
“…Wait,” he finally murmurs, his voice lower. He gently holds you back when you try to pull away. His four arms surround you with more care. “I shouldn’t have said that. The pain makes me… irritable. You’re not just a simple concubine. You are the only one I tolerate near me. The only one I can’t do without. Forgive me. Please? My pretty girl.”
You smile internally. Seeing Sukuna, the most feared king, begging you to forgive him is exceptional. You remain silent for a moment to make him believe it, then in a surge of frustration, you press the cloth firmly against his deepest wound on his flank. That’ll teach him. You press just enough to remind him of the pain but without aggravating the injury.
Sukuna startles slightly, a hoarse growl escaping his throat. Then, against all expectations, he bursts into a deep, sincere laugh that vibrates through his entire massive body. The mouth on his stomach laughs too, a strange and guttural sound.
“Ah… there’s my favorite with the strong character,” he says between two laughs, his eyes shining with amusement and a darker glint. “You dare wound the King of Curses? What audacity.”
Before you can react, his four arms move with surprising speed despite his injuries. After all, he remains the strongest. He suddenly pins you under him on the platform, his massive body completely towering over you.
His dark tattoos contrast with your skin, his four eyes staring at you with a mix of possessiveness, desire, and brutal tenderness.
You are trapped beneath him, his two upper arms holding your wrists above your head, while his lower arms slide over your hips and thighs, holding you firmly in place. His face is very close to yours, his hot breath against your lips.
“You are mine,” he murmurs in a hoarse voice. “And I am yours, whether you want it or not. Now… let me show you how much better I am thanks to you.”
Without giving you time to answer, Sukuna lowers his head and kisses you again. This time, the kiss is deeper, more voracious. His lips capture yours with obvious hunger, his tongue sliding against yours in a possessive movement that takes your breath away.
You feel the heat of his massive body weighing on you, his wounds still sensitive but ignored by his recovered strength. The mouth on his stomach parts against your abdomen, letting out a burning breath that passes through the thin fabric of your nightgown.
One of his upper hands remains on your wrists, while the other slowly descends along your arm, brushing your skin. His two lower arms, meanwhile, explore freely.
One slides under your dress, caressing your bare thigh, moving up gradually. The other hand settles directly on your chest, enveloping one of your breasts. His fingers gently pinch your nipple through the fabric, making it harden instantly.
You can’t hold back a muffled moan against his mouth. “Sukuna…”
That sound seems to encourage him. His kiss becomes more intense, leaving you little air, while his hand on your breast slowly kneads it, massaging with controlled strength.
Your body arches instinctively beneath him, seeking more contact despite the voice in your head still reminding you of his injuries.
“You’re already moaning so well for me,” he growls against your lips, his voice hoarse with desire. “My little favorite… is so sensitive because of me.”
His two lower arms continue their exploration. One of them moves up to your other breast, caressing it with the same avid attention. He presses, kneads, his thumbs circling your now hardened nipples, sending waves of pleasure directly between your legs.
You moan louder, head slightly thrown back, eyes half-closed. Your breathing becomes irregular, interrupted by soft little cries each time he pinches a little harder.
Sukuna pulls slightly away from your mouth, just enough to observe your face flushed with pleasure. His four eyes shine with a satisfied and hungry glint. The mouth on his stomach slowly licks your skin through the fabric, wanting to taste every part of you.
In one fluid and impatient movement, he releases your wrists and easily tears the top of your dress, exposing your bare chest to the cool air of the room. An appreciative growl vibrates in his throat.
“Much better like this,” he murmurs.
His hands immediately return to your bare breasts. The feeling of his warm, rough skin against your sensitive flesh makes you moan louder.
He kneads them greedily, pressing them together, his thumbs and index fingers playing with your hardened nipples. Each caress sends jolts of pleasure through your entire body. Your hips move unconsciously against him, seeking relief.
“Sukuna… ugh more please.” Your moan is longer this time, almost pleading.
He lowers his head, capturing one of your breasts between his lips. His warm tongue circles the nipple, sucking it slowly before nibbling just enough to make you jump with pleasure.
Meanwhile, his hands continue to explore: one stays on your free breast, kneading it firmly, while the other slides lower, pulling on the rest of your dress to slide it down your hips. He throws the dress aside.
You are now almost completely naked beneath him, wearing only your panties. Sukuna raises his head, observing your exposed body with satisfaction.
“Perfect,” he breathes against your skin, before kissing you again, more slowly this time, while continuing to slide his hands over your bare curves.
His lips leave yours to descend along your neck, gently nibbling your sensitive skin. One of his upper hands remains on your breast, kneading it firmly, while the other slides lower, between your thighs. His fingers brush your intimacy through the thin fabric of your panties, already feeling the heat and wetness accumulating there.
“Just for me, isn’t it?” he murmurs in a hoarse and possessive voice against your ear, his four eyes shining with desire. You shiver beneath him, breathing short. “Yes…” you reply in a trembling sigh. “Just for you.”
A satisfied growl vibrates in his chest. His fingers finally push the fabric aside and slide directly over your hot and wet flesh. He slowly caresses your intimacy, tracing circles around your clit before plunging a thick finger into you. You moan louder, back arched, hips moving instinctively against his hand.
“So wet already…” he growls with a carnivorous smile. His two lower arms hold your thighs spread while his upper hands continue to knead your breasts, pinching your sensitive nipples. The mouth on his stomach slowly licks your belly, descending progressively lower, leaving a trail of wet heat on your skin.
You pant, lost in the sensations. Your hands slide over his massive chest, following the black tattoos, carefully avoiding his still sensitive wounds. Sukuna intensifies his caresses: he pushes a second finger into you, curling them to touch that precise spot that makes you see stars.
“Sukuna… ah… yes ugh… it feels so good! There!”
Suddenly, he withdraws his fingers from your intimacy, leaving you empty and frustrated. You moan in protest, hips desperately seeking his contact.
Sukuna laughs softly, a deep and amused laugh that resonates in his chest. His four eyes contemplate you with a mischievous and dominant glint.
“Not so fast,” he murmurs. “You dared push me away earlier to treat me… now I’m going to make you wait a little.”
He pins your wrists above your head again with one hand, completely immobilizing your upper body. His other two hands explore your body with deliberate and torturous slowness:
He caresses the inside of your thighs, brushes your swollen clit without ever really pressing, pinches your nipples just enough to make you moan, but never enough to fully satisfy you.
The mouth on his stomach descends lower, licking the inside of your thigh, very close to your intimacy, its hot breath making you shiver, but never touching you directly where you need it most.
Every time you try to move for more, he pulls back slightly, keeping you on the edge of pleasure without letting you fall.
“Sukuna… please…” you beg in a frustrated moan, your body trembling with unfulfilled desire.
“No, no,” he murmurs against your neck, his voice deep and amused. He slides two fingers along your slit, barely entering you before pulling out, repeating this slow and superficial movement again and again. “I want to hear you beg louder. I want you to yearn until you can’t think of anything but me.”
His hands on your breasts gradually slow down. He almost completely releases them, leaving only his thumbs brushing your swollen nipples from time to time, just enough to keep you in a state of burning frustration.
His two lower arms remain focused between your thighs: his fingers slowly caress your wet lips, spread your folds, brush your swollen clit with unbearable lightness. Each pass is too soft, too brief. Your body trembles, your hips lifting desperately to seek more pressure, but he pulls back each time with a low chuckle.
The mouth on his stomach lazily licks the inside of your thighs, leaving wet and warm traces very close to your intimacy, but never touching it. His burning breath makes you shiver violently.
“Sukuna… I beg you…” you moan, voice broken, body covered in a thin layer of sweat. “I need… I need more… please…”
He doesn’t answer you, too busy with his torment for long minutes, alternating between his fingers barely penetrating you and the tongue on his stomach brushing you without ever relieving you. Your moans turn into small sobs of frustration, your numb wrists still held above your head by his powerful arms.
Sukuna finally brings his face close to yours, his four eyes shining with cruel and amused desire. “If you really want to come, little favorite…” he murmurs in a hoarse and authoritative voice, “then you’re going to have to ride my tongue. The one on my stomach. Sit on it and rub yourself like the desperate little thing you are.”
Your cheeks burn with shame and excitement. You hesitate for a moment, but the need is too strong. When he slightly releases your wrists, you sit up. Sukuna lies completely on his back, his injuries almost forgotten, his massive body exposed. You settle above him, knees on either side of his torso. As you slowly descend, you immediately feel the heat of the mouth on his stomach against your soaked intimacy.
As you position yourself, your ass and pussy brush against something hard, hot, and thick. You clearly feel his two thick and long cocks, erect against your back. A shiver runs through you as you realize how aroused he is.
Sukuna smiles widely, a carnivorous and satisfied smile that reveals his sharp teeth. His four eyes contemplate you with a possessive and amused glint.
“You feel them, don’t you?” he growls, voice thick with desire. “My two cocks waiting only for you. But first you’re going to use my tongue. Go on. Rub yourself. Show me how much you need me.”
The mouth on his stomach opens wider, its thick warm tongue immediately sliding against your slit, licking slowly from bottom to top with diabolical precision. You can’t hold back a long hoarse moan as you begin to slowly move your hips against it.
You settle more comfortably above him, your hands resting on his chest while carefully avoiding his still sensitive wounds. You begin to rub against the hot and wet tongue, rolling your hips back and forth in a hesitant rhythm at first, then more and more pronounced.
Each stroke of the tongue makes you shiver. It is thick, rough in places, and slides perfectly between your soaked lips, caressing your clit with every movement. Your breasts move with the rhythm of your hips, and your moans become louder, more uncontrollable.
Sukuna watches you from below, his four eyes shining with satisfaction and raw desire. His two lower arms come to rest on your hips, gripping them firmly to guide you.
“You really are a desperate little thing to cum,” he growls in a hoarse and mocking voice, a carnivorous smile on his lips. “Look at you… rubbing yourself like a slut on your king’s tongue.”
His hands guide your movements, making you press down harder against his mouth. He makes you roll your hips in circles, forcing you to press your swollen clit against his tongue which now moves faster, licking and sucking your intimacy with voracity. The sensation is intense, wet, burning. You pant, nails lightly digging into his chest.
Encouraged by the pleasure consuming you, you slide one of your hands behind you. Your hands still find one of his two cocks through the stretched fabric. You clearly feel his first dick, enormous and hard, throbbing under the thick fabric. You begin to caress it through the clothing, pressing your palm and sliding your hand up and down its impressive length.
Sukuna lets out a hoarse growl, almost a guttural moan. His massive body twitches beneath you, and his four eyes narrow in pleasure. “Haaa ugh- you’re too insolent today…” he growls, his voice rougher.
To get revenge, he lifts you above his tongue and penetrates you with it in one thrust, sinking deep into your intimacy. You cry out in pleasure, back arched, as it begins to move inside you, turning, pulling out, plunging back in with force. The rhythm is merciless, as if he wants to punish you for daring to touch him even through the fabric.
“Mhh! Sukuna…! Please..-” you moan, voice broken. Your hips move faster on their own, riding his tongue desperately. Your hand behind you continues to caress his first cock through the hakama, squeezing harder, moving up and down its entire length.
Sukuna growls with pleasure, his hips lifting slightly. His tongue fucks you relentlessly, entering and exiting, licking your inner walls, finding that sensitive spot that makes you tremble violently. His hands on your hips continue to guide you, making you press down harder, faster, forcing you to take everything he gives you.
“That’s it…” he breathes between two growls, voice thick with desire. “I fill you so well with my tongue. You’re so wet it’s dripping onto my stomach. You needed this so badly?”
You moan in response. Your thighs tremble, you lean a little forward. You remove your hand from his cock and place both hands on his chest to keep your balance. The tongue continues its deep and rhythmic assault, taking you higher and higher. The wet and obscene sound of his tongue entering and exiting your soaked pussy fills the room, making you moan even louder.
“Sukuna… ugh- I… I’m gonna…” Your hips move frantically now, riding his tongue without restraint. Each deep penetration makes the liquid of your arousal slap against his stomach. The thick tongue turns inside you, presses hard against that sensitive spot, licks your inner walls with almost brutal greed.
Sukuna growls with satisfaction as he feels your contractions around his tongue. His two lower arms squeeze your hips tighter, holding you pressed against him so you can’t escape.
“That’s it, my little slut…” he growls in a hoarse and dirty voice. “Cum on my tongue. Flood me like the desperate little concubine you are. Show your king how much you get wet for him.”
You cry out, the pleasure becoming too intense. Your nails dig into his tattooed chest, your thighs clenching around him.
The orgasm hits you violently, like a burning wave. Your body arches brutally, your pussy contracting spasmodically around his tongue which continues to fuck you mercilessly throughout your pleasure.
“Sukuna!” you scream, voice broken.
At the same time, Sukuna sits up slightly, one of his upper arms sliding behind your neck to pull you toward him. He captures your mouth in a voracious kiss, devouring your cries of ecstasy. His tongue invades your mouth at the same rhythm that the one on his stomach continues to penetrate you, as if he wants to fill you from both sides at once.
The kiss is dirty, wet, and possessive. He swallows each of your moans while you tremble and cum for a long time, your body shaken by spasms. His kiss muffles your complaints, his tongue turning against yours, nibbling your lower lip.
“There… good girl,” he murmurs against your mouth between two kisses, his voice low and hoarse. “Cum hard for me. Your little pussy squeezes my tongue like it never wants to let it go. You’re so greedy… even when I’m injured, you can’t help but get fucked by your king.”
You continue to tremble, the orgasm seeming to last forever. Your hands remain pressed on his massive chest, feeling the powerful beats of his heart under your palms.
The tongue on his stomach gradually slows down, gently licking your sensitive walls to prolong your pleasure, collecting every drop of your arousal.
Sukuna doesn’t break the kiss right away. He continues to kiss you deeply, almost tenderly this time, while holding you against him. When your trembling finally subsides, he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his four red eyes shining with satisfaction and a desire still far from satiated.
“You came so hard…” he breathes against your lips, a carnivorous smile on his lips. “But we’re far from finished, my beautiful.”
Sukuna kisses you again with intensity, swallowing every little cry and every ragged breath. When he finally pulls away slightly, a string of saliva still connects your lips. His four eyes stare at you with dark and burning satisfaction.
“Look at you…” he murmurs in a hoarse and dirty voice, while slowly licking your lower lip. “You just came like never before on your king’s tongue. You flooded my entire stomach. What a dirty little concubine you are.”
You don’t answer, body still sensitive, cheeks burning. Sukuna gives you no rest. His two lower arms firmly grip your hips and lift you just enough to withdraw his tongue from your intimacy. A wet and obscene sound echoes as it slides out of you, leaving you empty and throbbing.
He lays you back on his chest, but this time he sits up a little more, leaning against the cushions despite his injuries. His massive body still dominates you. In one fluid movement, he uses his upper arms to turn you slightly, placing you lower on his abdomen, right above his hakama stretched to the extreme by his two erections.
“Sukuna…” you breathe, still breathless.
“Shh,” he growls, nibbling your neck. “You don’t think I’m done with you, do you?”
His hands explore your naked body with greed. One kneads your breast, pinching your still sensitive nipple, while the other slides between your thighs to slowly caress your swollen and soaked lips. He spreads your arousal all over your slit, making you shiver.
“You’re soaked… ready to take my dick.” His voice is low, dangerous. “But first, I want you to feel how hard I am for you.”
He presses you more firmly against him. Through the stretched fabric of his hakama, you clearly feel his two thick and burning cocks. They throb against your ass and intimacy, enormous, hard as stone.
You can’t help but moan as you rub lightly against them. Sukuna laughs lowly, amused and excited. He grabs your hips and makes you move slowly against him, sliding you back and forth over his two erections still trapped under the fabric.
“You feel them?” he murmurs against your ear, nibbling the lobe. “Two big cocks waiting only to fill you. You are the only one who has the right to take them. The only one I want to fuck until you cry with pleasure.”
Your hands remain placed on his chest, seeking support as he guides you faster. The friction of the fabric against your sensitive clit makes you pant. Sukuna continues to speak, his voice becoming rougher and rougher:
“You are mine. My favorite. My personal little slut. Even when I come back from the battlefield covered in blood, it’s you I want to destroy and rebuild with my fucking dicks. Say it. Say you want me to fuck you.”
“I… I want you to fuck me, Sukuna… please my king.” you moan, voice trembling.
Satisfied, he growls and, with an impatient gesture, uses two of his arms to lower his hakama enough. His two thick cocks finally spring out, heavy, veined and glistening with precum.
The one underneath, slightly smaller than the first, rubs directly against your slit, while the first presses against your clit and belly.
He doesn’t penetrate you right away. He makes you wait a little longer, slowly rubbing his two members against you, sliding them between your soaked lips without entering.
“Look how wet you are for this,” he breathes while looking into your eyes. “You were made for me. To take everything I give you.”
Finally, he aligns his first cock against your entrance. With a slow but firm thrust of his hips, he begins to sink into you. The thickness is impressive. You moan at length, nails digging into his shoulders, as he stretches you progressively, inch by inch, until he is deeply buried inside you.
“Fuck so tight…” he growls, teeth clenched in pleasure. He remains still for a moment, savoring the sensation, then begins to move. Slow and deep thrusts at first, then more and more powerful. His second cock rubs perfectly against your clit with every movement, adding intense stimulation.
His four arms completely surround you: two on your hips to guide you, one on your neck to kiss you, and the last caressing your breast. He kisses you again, devouring your moans while he fucks you with an increasingly sustained rhythm.
“Take it all,” he murmurs against your mouth between two kisses. “Take your king’s cock like the good little concubine you are for me. I’m going to fill you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”
You pant against his lips, body completely overwhelmed. Each deep thrust drives his massive first cock to the very bottom of you. You feel it so thick, so long, that it directly touches the cervix of your uterus with every push.
The pressure is intense, almost too much, a mix of burning pleasure and a delicious slight pain that makes you tremble. Your belly swells slightly every time he sinks completely, as if your body is struggling to accept him entirely.
Every movement creates a perfect friction that sends electric shocks through your entire body.
“Sukuna… ahh… it’s too deep…” you moan, voice broken. He laughs lowly, a hoarse and satisfied sound, while accelerating the rhythm.
His hips slap against yours with more force. Your intimacy contracts violently around him, squeezing his veined length as if it refuses to let him go.
“You feel that?” he growls against your ear, nibbling your skin. “My big cock hitting the bottom of your belly. I’m touching your little uterus.”
His crude words make you moan louder. Your hands tremble on his chest, nails digging into his tattooed skin. The heat of his massive body, the smell of blood, sweat and sex, everything overwhelms you.
Sukuna slightly changes the angle of his hips, and suddenly every thrust hits that sensitive spot inside you even better. You cry out, body shaking. Your thighs tremble around him, your arousal flowing abundantly along his cock.
He fucks you harder, faster, using his four arms to hold you exactly how he wants. One of his upper arms slides between your bodies to pinch your clit between two fingers, rubbing it at the same time as his second cock stimulates it.
The pleasure rises quickly, almost unbearable. You feel your second orgasm approaching like a gigantic wave. “Sukuna… I… I’m going to cum…!” you sob, tears beginning to pearl at the corners of your eyes.
“Cum,” he orders in a hoarse and authoritative voice. “Cum on my cock like the good little favorite you are. Let me feel your pussy squeezing me.”
You cum.
The orgasm hits you with incredible violence. Your body arches violently, head thrown back. Your inner walls contract spasmodically around his thick cock, squeezing and pulsing as if you want to milk him.
Tears flow down your cheeks, a mix of overwhelming pleasure and raw emotion. Your hands desperately cling to his chest while you scream his name.
“Sukuna…! I love you…!” you sob between two spasms, voice broken by pleasure and tears. “I love you… mhh- I love you so much…”
These words seem to strike him. Sukuna groans deeply, his massive body twitching beneath you. His four eyes widen slightly, then darken with an intense emotion he almost never shows.
He holds you tighter against him, his arms enveloping you while he continues to penetrate you through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure until you are completely exhausted and limp against his chest.
“…Idiot,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice hoarse but strangely soft. He kisses your forehead, your temples, wiping your tears with one of his thumbs. “You cry while telling me that… You really are my only weakness.”
You remain nestled against his massive chest, body still shaken by light spasms, when Sukuna decides he is not done with you. In one fluid and powerful movement, he rolls you onto your back without fully pulling out of you.
He positions himself above you, placing you in missionary. His imposing body completely dominates you, his four arms resting on either side of your head and on your hips.
You are already hypersensitive after your intense orgasm. Your intimacy is still pulsing around his cock, swollen and ultra-sensitive. As soon as he moves slightly, a high-pitched moan escapes you.
“Sukuna… wait… I’m too sensitive…” you breathe in a trembling voice.
But he doesn’t listen. On the contrary, a carnivorous smile stretches his lips as he adjusts his position. He passes your legs over his hips, opening you completely to him, and sinks in with one deep thrust to the bottom.
“You’re going to take more,” he growls, voice thick with desire. “I want to feel you cum around me one more time. I want to get you pregnant.”
He begins to fuck you with passion, long, powerful and measured thrusts. Each push makes his hips slap against yours. His massive cock touches your cervix again, even more intense in this position. The sensation is overwhelming — you are overstimulated, every friction makes you jolt, tremble, and cry with pleasure.
“Ahh! Sukuna… it’s too much… too deep!” you sob, hands gripping his shoulders.
Your inner walls, hypersensitive, contract violently around him with every movement. Every time he sinks completely, an electric shock runs through your belly. Your clit rubs against the base of his second cock with every thrust, adding unbearable stimulation.
Sukuna looks you straight in the eyes, his four red eyes burning with a rare emotion. He lowers his head and kisses you deeply, swallowing your moans and your cries while continuing to pound you with passion.
His hips roll with force, but there is something different this time: it is no longer just raw desire, it is possessive, almost desperate.
“Look how you squeeze me…” he murmurs against your mouth between two kisses. “Even after cumming, your little pussy wants more. You were made for me.”
Your tears flow nonstop down your cheeks. The pleasure is so intense it almost becomes painful, but you don’t want him to stop. Your legs tremble around his hips, your nails scratch his tattooed back.
Sukuna gradually accelerates, his thrusts becoming deeper, faster. The room is filled with the wet sound of your bodies slapping, your high-pitched moans and his hoarse growls.
He slides one of his hands on your cheek, wiping your tears with his thumb while continuing to fuck you passionately.
“Listen to me,” he breathes against your lips, voice low and hoarse. “I love you.”
These words, spoken by the King of Curses, make you open your eyes wide despite the tears.
“I love you, little idiot,” he repeats louder, burying his cock to the bottom with every word. “You are the only one I love. The only one who can make me feel this. The only one I will never destroy.”
His words make you tip over. Your third orgasm hits you brutally, even more violent than the previous ones. You scream his name, body arched beneath him, your pussy contracting so hard around his cock that Sukuna groans at length, teeth clenched.
He holds you against him, his four arms completely enveloping you while he continues to pound you through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure until you are completely exhausted, sobbing and trembling beneath him.
“I love you my king…” you murmur weakly between two sobs, completely overwhelmed by emotion and pleasure.
He kisses you tenderly on the forehead, then on the lips, finally slowing his movements to let you breathe. His massive body remains pressed against yours, his cock still deeply buried inside you, throbbing.
“I know,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice softer than it has ever been. “And I will never let you go. You are mine. Forever.”
His movements become more erratic, deeper. You feel his dick swell even more inside you, throbbing violently against the hypersensitive walls of your intimacy. Every thrust makes your whole body tremble.
Sukuna buries his face in your neck, his teeth brushing your skin while his hips slap harder against yours. His growls become rougher, more animal.
“I’m going to cum…” he growls against your ear, voice broken with pleasure. “I’m going to fill you to the bottom, my darling…”
You can only moan weakly, completely overwhelmed. Your hands slide over his back, clinging to him as if your life depends on it. You feel the pressure rising in him, his muscles tensing under your fingers.
With one final powerful and deep thrust, Sukuna sinks all the way in, the head of his cock pressed directly against your cervix. He cums in a long and guttural groan that vibrates through his entire chest.
You feel the hot and abundant jets of his cum pouring into you, thick, burning, filling your belly with powerful pulses. There is so much that you feel completely flooded.
His second member also throbs against your clit, spreading its hot seed over your belly and chest in long jets.
Sukuna continues to move slowly while he cums, as if to push his seed as deep as possible inside you. His four arms hold you firmly against him, keeping you prisoner under his massive body while he empties himself completely.
When he finally finishes, he remains buried inside you, his cock still throbbing, refusing to pull out. He collapses slightly on you, careful not to crush you completely with his weight. The mouth on his stomach gently licks your skin, tasting the sweat and traces of seed on your belly.
You stay like this for a long moment, only the sound of your panting breaths filling the room. Sukuna finally raises his head and looks at you. His four red eyes are softer, almost vulnerable.
He wipes your remaining tears with his thumb, then kisses you slowly, tenderly, a kiss very different from the previous ones: deep, languorous, filled with an emotion he only shows to you.
“You are mine,” he murmurs against your lips. “Not just my concubine. Not just my favorite. You are the one I love. The only one who can make me say such ridiculous things.”
You smile weakly, still trembling, exhausted but happy. Your hands gently caress his chest, avoiding his wounds which have almost finished closing.
Sukuna rolls onto his side without pulling out of you, pulling you with him so you end up lying on his chest. His four arms envelop you like a warm and protective cage. The mouth on his stomach lets out a hot and satisfied breath against your belly.
He slowly caresses your hair with one of his upper hands, his other arms holding you against him. The silence is peaceful, disturbed only by your breathing which gradually slows down.
After a long moment, he murmurs in a deep and serious voice:
“Marry me.”
You raise your head slightly, surprised. His four red eyes stare at you with a rare, almost solemn intensity.
“I want you to become my queen, not just my favorite. I will kill the other concubines. They serve no purpose. They are just useless objects. Only you matter. I will have them executed tomorrow morning.”
Your heart clenches. Despite the fatigue and the warmth of the moment, you gently shake your head. “No, Sukuna… please. Don’t kill them. They have done nothing wrong. They are just… there. I don’t want their blood to be shed because of me. Let them live. Send them far away if you want, but don’t kill them.”
He frowns, visibly displeased. The mouth on his stomach growls slightly.
“You are too soft,” he growls. “That’s why I love you.” He sighs, then finally nods reluctantly. “Very well. I will banish them from the palace tomorrow. But only you will remain by my side. Forever.”
You smile weakly and snuggle tighter against him, placing a kiss on his chest.
“Thank you… my king.”
Nine months later.
Spring bathed the palace in golden light. The cherry trees in the private garden that Sukuna had enlarged for you were in full bloom.
In the royal chamber, you were lying on the platform, exhausted but radiant, holding a small sleeping treasure against you.
Your daughter.
She was tiny, with a tuft of silky black hair, and two small red eyes that sometimes opened to observe the world with curiosity. Two tiny black marks, similar to very small tattoos, adorned her little arms. She had inherited her father’s strength, but also your gentleness.
Sukuna was sitting by your side, in his true form. Two of his arms held you against him, while another delicately supported your daughter’s head. For the first time in his long existence, the King of Curses seemed almost… peaceful.
“She is perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and awed. He brushed the little hand that had closed around one of his fingers. “She will probably be stronger than me. And as beautiful as you.”
You laugh softly, tired but happy.
“She will have your character… and I hope a little of my patience.” Sukuna leaned down and kissed your forehead with infinite tenderness, then placed a very soft kiss on your daughter’s forehead.
“I never thought this would happen to me one day,” he confessed. “Loving someone. Having a family. But you… you changed everything.”
You snuggle against him, your daughter nestled between the two of you. “We are a family now, Sukuna. You, me, and her.”
He tightened his arms around you, protective, possessive, but above all loving.
Outside, the world continued to fear the King of Curses. But here, in this room filled with light and cherry blossom petals entering through the window, he was no longer just a man. A husband. A father. He had finally found something more precious than power.
“I love you,” he murmured against your hair. “I love you too,” you replied smiling, eyes shining with happiness.
Your daughter let out a small sleepy sigh, as if she approved. And for the first time in centuries, the King finally felt complete.
🥀 Synopsis - You go to a club. Toji is there. Need I say more?
🔪 Pairing - Toji Fushiguro x Reader
CW- Daddy kink, drinking, smoking, recreational drug use, kissing, semi-public sex, flirting, age difference, oral (f receiving, m receiving), oral sex, deep throating, pussy slapping, penis in vagina sex, fingering, degradation kink, praise kink, pet names, hookup
“Fuck." You hiss, burning yourself on the lighter. The warm smoke spills out across your tongue, head mellowing out steadily as you shook the pain out of your finger.
"You kiss boys with that mouth?"
The question catches you off guard and your mouth opens to respond with the first thing that comes to mind. "Haven't really kissed any boys lately." You say, knowing it was the voice of the man who kept looking at you from across the bar.
No doubt the one who's been sending you free drinks for the better part of an hour. He stood and swaggered towards you shooting you a Cheshire-like grin before settling down into the booth.
"Is that so? A pretty thing like you? I doubt that."
The smell of his cologne brought to mind a woodsy, almost burning scent. Maybe it was also the cigarettes he was smoking. You swallow, eyes darting across his face before settling onto the scar that curved across his lip. Your gaze lingered before meeting his stare. His sea-green eyes rapt on yours.
You take a drag from the joint between your fingers, taking the opportunity to look away. "Have you been enjoying buying me drinks? I'm starting to think that you're after something."
"Of course there's something I'm after." His smile continued, sickeningly sweet, "I'm just after talking with you, enjoying the beautiful night with you. That’s nothing too out of line, hm?" He moves closer, his thigh pressing against your own. You could smell the smoke on his breath.
"I’m sure,” you hum, not believing him for a moment. “You'll have to work hard to get it,” pressing the salted rim of the free drink to your lips. “Hopefully you’re not all talk.”
He chuckled, "I'm Toji, by the way. And the way you're knocking back my drinks, I don't think it'll take too much effort, darlin’."
"I can hold my liquor fine. Thanks." Your lips quirk into a smile.
“Oh, I’m sure you can. If that’s the case then you don’t mind if I sit with you then, pretty thing? I don’t like booze, doesn’t do anything for me.” He brushes his dark hair out of his eyes, uncaring where it parted.
You shake your head, "Just keep being sweet to me. Maybe another drink or two."
"I can do that. Can I have a drag?" You nod and hold the joint between your fingers waiting for him to take it. Instead, he leans in; the plush of his lips meeting your fingers as he takes a drag.
As he breathes in, he brings his hand to your inner thigh. The gentle caresses of his thumb nearing the hem of your skirt made you hide your blush in taking a sip from your drink.
Toji leaned back, blowing out the smoke as he rolled up his sleeves. The heat of the people and the liquor in your system made your cheeks warm. You subtly looked at the muscle of his forearms then to his prominent pectorals that rose and fell with each steady breath underneath his slightly unbuttoned dress shirt.
The smoke still lingering between you as he caught your gaze on him and the rosy flush flooded your cheeks more intensely. “Ya don’t mind my hand here, do you?”
You shook your head, “Not at all.” You took ahold of his wrist, guiding his hand to your inner thigh. He kept it there, giving the soft flesh a gentle squeeze of appreciation.
Slowly, you felt his hands pressing against your body as you were lulled into the vibe of the music. You felt him playing with the pattern of the fishnet stockings you wore.
“Don’t rip emm’ Toji.” You warn, a little lilt in your voice.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He murmured. His voice taking on a lower tone.
Surveying the bodies on the dance floor and feeling the pulse of the music made you sway with the beat subtly as you sipped on your cocktail. The rosy blush on your face swept away and brought back by the psychedelic quality of the lights against your skin. After a moment he moved his hand from your thigh to circle around you, holding onto your waist and gently coaxing you to settle against his side to hold you close.
"Doll, pay attention to me," he hums against your neck after a couple minutes. You took another sip before running your hand along the length of his forearm, as if to reward him, manicured nails daintily touching the muscle.
You look up at him from against his chest, "I'm listening to the music and you're distracting me."
"I'm supposed to distr-" You didn't let him finish before pulling him into a kiss. It was soft and sweet, just enough to try to get him to be quiet.
"You taste like candy-" he mutters against your lips. The faint taste of your drink, salt, and sweet lipgloss spreads against his lips. His other hand had found its place on your inner thigh. Humming, you shift your skirt to allow the hand on your thigh to pull you closer. The warm, rough skin of his fingers with the contrast of the cold rings that decorated a couple of his knuckles makes you shiver. He bites your lips as his fingers go underneath your skirt and ghosts over your panties. "See I knew you were the type." He mutters against your cheek. "Type to get all kinds of sweet on a stranger and turn out to be a ditzy lil thing."
Your hands press against his well-muscled chest, slipping a couple buttons down. “I’m not a ditz, just do what I want. I could stop if you’re not a fan…” you frown.
He hums and presses an apologetic kiss to your blossom-bitten lips. "No. Ah, I’m sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to offend. It was a compliment. I just wonder if you're twice as sweet down here f'me." He emphasized the want, pressing his fingertips against the black mesh that sweetly cupped your plush lips. His mountain-esque aura was assertive, yet quiet besides the filthy whispers against your ear.
"The only way to know for sure is to taste, right? you smile cheekily, leaning in closer to hum, "I hear it's sweeter than candy." Blushing, you press a couple kisses onto his neck.
"Is that so, sweetheart? I'd love to try," he cradled your cheek in another kiss. A sweet gesture until his spare hand raps the plush of your pussy a few quick pats, enough to have you whimpering into his lips. The rush of the bass mixes with the music of blood in your ears, both flowing like rivers in your psyche. The lights lulling you against his physique.
"You'd like that, yeah?” You goad him, smiling.
He murmured as his hand moved from between your legs up to your shirt, “Such a little tease.” After a moment he slid his palms over your chest, caressing your breasts and feeling their weight in his palms. "No bra? Like people seein’ your little tits?" Toji purred into the shell of your ear, rolling his thumbs over your nipples.
“Why shouldn’t I? They’re so pretty after all…” you trail off with a smile. “It would be a shame to keep them to myself.”
You whined as he pinched them before rolling the soft buds between his fingers again. "So sensitive. It's like you get off on it, slut." He smiled against your neck as your back pressed firmly against him. "Look at you, letting me grope you where anyone can see."
“Yeah, what of it, old man? Hell, everyone here is jealous of you I bet.”
He paused briefly before kissing your cheek.
"Yeah, I love your type."
"Oh, you have a type? Why am I not surprised?" You whisper, relaxing against him and taking another sip of your drink.
"Yeah," he paused to readjust his hold on you, "you were always sucking on that straw whenever I looked over at ya. Maybe you like to have somethin’ against your lips just to feed into your oral fixation just a little, sweetheart." He caught your smile and the blush that burned across your face. "I can help you with that."
You felt the roughness of his scar pass over your skin as he smirked into your cheek. "Plus you’re feisty. I love it. Keeps me in check.” After a few moments he takes the joint out of your hand and takes a drag before putting out the roach on the table. “C'mon pretty thing, follow me." He took your hand as he stood, bracing yourself against his arm. He held you close, other arm crossed protectively across your back as he led you across the crowded club floor. Passing through a purple-hued hallway littered with graffiti and stickers.
You both crossed into the dingy tile bathroom, platform boots holding you up and away from the filth on the floor. He boxed you in. Your ass pressed against the sink and back to the mirror that reflected the man in front of you. He caressed your cheek for only a moment before he kisses you. It turned sloppy almost instantly, practically melting into each other and, before it becomes a little too much, pulls away. But not before biting and tugging on your lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. You had only a moment to wince before he began kissing on your neck, biting blossoms against your skin and flipping up your skirt. The black fabric was tightly bunched in his big hands while his hungry eyes take in the sight of your exposed lower half. You felt his gaze and pressed your thighs together. “Fishnets are cute on you…” he murmured before ripping them open. “Now don't act modest now sweetheart," he breathed out, reuniting his teeth with the side of your neck once again. You groaned, partially because of the attention to your neck, a little because he tore your tights after promising he wouldn’t! He sucked and nipped softly, "not after all that teasin'." He purred.
You invitingly spread you thighs apart, enough for him to slot his knee between them and keep you there. "Good, now let's hope you're not all talk.“ You could feel his gaze burning into you making you want to shut your thighs again. But that thought left as he threw your legs over each side of his broad shoulders.
“Same goes for you old man. Go on, have a taste.”
He squats down to be eye-level with your pussy. Slowly, he drags the rough pad of his middle finger up and down your clothed slit, further soaking the flimsy fabric. He can practically feel your clit rolling against his tongue already. The thought tormenting him into licking a gentle stripe up your pussy. His saliva mixing with the already soaked fabric as he savored you. Toji pressed a kiss to your clit before unwrapping it. As he pocketed your panties a shiver passed through you - the cold air of the bathroom. He spread you open, looking at you enamored before tenderly kissing your clit. That made you shiver, yearning for the warmth of his lips again. "All spread out and pretty just f'me." He cups your pussy, "I'm gonna ruin you after I have a taste." The grip on your thighs intensifies as he continues to slowly lick you, the flat of his tongue slipping against you and becoming more precise the more he explored you. The movements of his lips or tongue that made you moan were duly noted as he laved his tongue against you. “You’re right… you’re fucking sweet,” don't get too loud now.” Toji mumbled against your clit in a moment of clarity, pressing a kiss to the perked nub right after. As if you weren’t getting tongue fucked in the middle of a public bathroom. Those simple vibrations enough to make you keen and whimper his name. You felt his hands grip tighter on the plush of your thighs.
He leaned back at that moment, wanting to see the mess he had made on your cunt, immediately smiling to himself at the pretty sight. You were soaked, the mix of his saliva with your juices coating your folds and inner thighs just like it did his cheeks, chin, and lips. "So fucking pretty too, aren't you?" he continued, appearing to be speaking to your pussy instead of directly to you.
Your ass had gone numb from sitting on the porcelain sink but that wasn’t the sensation you were focused on. One hand moved to lay across your pelvis as he used his thumb to pull your clit's hood back. A moment pause before he spat a gob of saliva directly onto it before drawing slow circles over the sensitive bud with the pad of his thumb.
You nodded, agreeing as you bit your lip, "I'm so close, c'mon, Toji more!" You whined as two of his dexterous fingers slowly caressed your entrance before pressing inside gently. His fingers were long as they stretched you out. The sensation bringing tears of pleasure to your lash line. The feeling of his metal rings at your entrance were having you want to whine out for more.
Toji looked up at you, his sea-green eyes turbulent, drunk on the sight splayed out for him. "Your pretty pussy is sucking my fingers in so deep, can only imagine what it'll do to my cock," he chuckled as he began fingering you faster. “You’re so damn eager, sweetheart.”
The feeling of his fingers in your pussy hitting that spot deep in your clenching walls while the heel of his palms rubbed up against your swollen clit was making you go feral. All you cared about was cumming. You moan, loud enough so he just knows how good you feel. Grasping the stained porcelain of the club sink behind you. As soon as he locked his lips around your clit you squeal and finish against his hand. He holds back on moaning at hearing your pleasured mewls while he moves his fingers inside of you. Just the feeling of your cunt spasming against his fingers is enough to drive him wild with fantasy. “Good fucking girl, painting my rings…” he growled.
“Fuck.” You murmured. A rouge shiver running through your frame. The his scar twitched with a hint of a smile at your reaction. His eyes stayed locked on your pussy for a moment longer, pecking it sweetly before his sea-green eyes were redirected to your flustered expression. Toji slid his fingers out of you, too eager to have his cock inside of you, placing a tender kiss to your thigh as he praised you for being a good girl for him.
As he stood, he slipped the fingers into his mouth, cleaning your essence off of them as he stared you down. You couldn't help the delighted sound that slipped past your lips. His grin spread wider as he inched closer to you his torso pressed into yours. “It’s sweet, can’t help myself,” His face stopped right above yours, stare hungry and his whole aura overwhelming.
"You look so pretty like this sweetheart." He murmured against your neck, pressing a kiss behind your ear. You look absolutely dazed, eyes glistening and lips ever so slightly curved upwards in a small grin. "I'm gonna fuck your delectable cunt until everyone knows you're mine. Look at me," groaning, his thumb rubbing your bitten bottom lip. Your eyes met his and you could only whine at his words. He knew how praise worked on you already. "You want this right, sweetheart?"
"Yes. Yes, please." You kissed him. Your kiss is fierce, tongue laving over the scar on his lips, he moans when you do so. He licks your tongue and explores your mouth, sharing the taste of your cum between the two of you. He hums into your lips, unbuckling his pants and pulling his boxers down with them to just underneath his fat balls.
Your eye follows his happy trail down to his long, uncut cock. It’s flushed, dark pink head and relatively pale all throughout with a slight curve to the right. Not too veiny, maybe one or two that are prominent enough that you could imagine running your tongue over. The base was manicured maybe a few days ago, but dark hair starting to fill back in.
You took a breath, “Damn. Not even half mast? What, you need Viagra, old man?”
Toji cocked you a grin, “Nah, sweetheart. Just help me out a little with that pretty mouth of yours.”
“You’ll get my pretty mouth when you deserve my pretty mouth.”
“Fair enough.” He sighed as you wrapped your hand around his cock jerking it off a couple times before thumbing at the slit. Even though he wasn’t fully erect he was still supremely thick.
Gently, he pressed in between your legs, your ass balancing on the sink as he slotted himself against you. Your legs gently wrapping around him. Tojis hand held your waist steady as the other pumped his cock when your lips found his. Everything felt warm and in that moment, brain foggy he pressed his now full erection against your stomach. He smirked, "And that's how deep you’re gonna take me, right doll?" he asked.
You nodded, desperately, bracing your hands against the sink and focused onto him. His lips curled into a smile, scar contorting in the mirror as he pressed the fat tip against you.
"Toji, it's big." Your muffled plea was pathetic as he held onto your waist for comfort, thumbing and rubbing your slippery clit, ignoring your innocent complaint.
Your whimpers filled the dingy room as he started slowly pressing into you. It wasn't painful, but having to accommodate for his girth was a task as you arched your back and brought your hands to hold onto his shoulders. You had already felt so full and he was even halfway in.
"That's it. If you wanna stop darlin’, just say the safe word." He cooed into your ear, giving your waist a squeeze.
"Whats- What's the safe word?" You manage to get out in between breaths. Curious.
"Harder." He says offhandedly before pressing a kiss onto your shoulder. His other hand threading through your hair to keep your head up to meet his vision as he slips the rest of his cock inside you. You gasped at the way his tip instantly reaches your sweet spot and his girth stretched you out perfectly. He groans into your shoulder after biting down on your skin, feeling you flutter around his cock. He let you settle for a moment until he felt you wrap your legs around his defined waist. You felt so good around him that Toji felt more high than he was already. Mind hazy and thoughts incoherent as he started plowing into you. He was merciless by accident with how roughly he moved — He glanced at your fucked out face seeing that your eyes had rolled back as your moans sang in his ears. "Fuck baby, breathe. That's it. Keep makin' those pretty sounds," he moans as he pulls out halfway then slides back in. You steady your breathing, moving to meet his hips and his pace. "Feel so fuckin perfect 'round my cock, loosen up for me, doll. Relax I’m not gonna hurt you." His hand reached down to circle your clit to match the rhythm of his hips. His arms are secured tightly around your body, holding you as close to him as physically possible without crushing you. He groans into the crook of your neck, kissing and biting to leave bruises on the column of your throat. He ruts into you like he'll never be allowed to again.
You were barely hanging on before, but now any threads holding you before were cut. Your body tensed- “Toji-!”
"Look at me when you cum. I want to see how pretty you look when you soak me." He ordered, knowing what was coming and wasn’t asking you. You whimper at his command. You can't help but shake as you look into the mirror, his turbulent eyes meeting yours as he smiles leaning back and dragging you onto his cock as you cum. Your sharp nails piercing into the muscles of his back as he fucks you through your orgasm. The more you moan the deeper he goes, fueling how he throbs and twitches inside you. Wetness pools out of you soaking him to the balls with every thrust. The base of his cock decorated with a white ring. "So messy... I love it.” He praises as he withdraws his cock before slipping it in between your thighs.
“Mhmm, feels nice when you grind up like that. Keep going for a lil while…” You coo, pressing your thighs together. Toji’s hands come down to your hips as he fucks your thighs, reveling in your lips wrapping around him and the warm plush squeezing at his length, head peeking out with each trust.
He sighs, admiring how heavenly soft you are. You feel his cheek rest against your shoulder to kiss your neck before meeting your lips for another kiss. “Y’ feel so soft for me doll. You’re like an angel.” He trails off pressing a kiss to your neck again, “But I wanna finish inside you. That allowed?”
“Yeah,” you swallow, savoring the rocking movements of his hips, the feeling of his lips against your neck. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’m in birth control.”
“Too bad.” He smirks. “Kinda want to knock you up.”
“You say that like this will be the only time we fuck. Now pick me up.” You command through the kiss and he obeys. Strong arms pick you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, burying your hand into his black hair. He had walked to the bathroom stall and flicks the flimsy lock shut.
"T-touch me, Toji," you mumbled lazily.
"What was that, sweetheart? I've been touchin' you," He wasn't above teasing you despite your vulnerable state.
"No, no," your babbles continued, "need you... need you to fuck me. Need to cum again. Put your cock in me, please, please Daddy," you trailed off. Feeling it glide against your teasingly before he angled just the tip to touch your entrance.
"Daddy?" He smiled. You were cute, Toji would give you that. A sweet young thing begging for his fat cock. “What happened to ‘old man’, hm?”
“I could say grandpa-“
“You’re a little brat aren’t you?”
“I can be so much worse. But I think you like it…” You trail off with a little smile.
He huffed out a tentative agreement and slipped back inside of you with a little guidance. A deep groan falling from Toji's lips joins your moans once he bottoms out. "Open," he asked before he hiked up your shirt, revealing your breasts and putting the hem in your mouth. "That should keep you quiet, doll."
He was right, your moans and whimpers went right into the fabric as he eased into you gently, rubbing circles and pressing kisses against your chest.
"Such pretty fuckin' tits." He murmured against your skin. His grip on your thighs tightening as he leaned down lick and kiss on your breasts, delicately taking a nipple between his lips to suck. His hips were chasing after yours every time you'd pull away with a small sigh, and then his cock brushed against a spot that made you flinch. A gasp pulled from your throat as he bit down, your hands grasped at him to steady yourself.
"They sen'tive Togi-" you managed to speak through the hem. You were sensitive, but even then, you couldn't get yourself to ask him to actually stop. Thankfully, he took into account your body language to be able to differentiate when you actually reach your limit.
"You can take it. I know ya can, little slut." As if to punctuate the degradation he pushed your back up against the the stall door. The scrape of stickers against your exposed back complimented the stretch of his cock as he pressed deeper inside you. Toji's hips thrust maniacally against yours, sandwiching you between him and the stall. The feeling of being stuffed deep made your eyes water and flutter shut as you press your mouth against his neck, the muscle and cloth muffling your pitched moan. Your thighs squeezing against his waist encouraging him.
"See, look at that. I knew you could take it, darlin’." He bounced you against his hips relentless pace shaking the flimsy lock on door hips bucked into you and he groaned deep.
His hot breath fans over your neck. You meet his eyes drifting down to where he splits you open slowly as his hips begin to slow down a bit, cock hitting deep inside you over and over. You head starts to reel as you gush, your clit rubbing against his pelvis. You feel his hands groping your ass, kneading and spreading your cheeks. You drop the hem, moans entwined with his grunts, echoing through the bathroom. "You love being fucked like a slut, huh?" He groaned against you, his voice husky against your skin.
"Mhmm," you hum into his lips, enamored with how they feel against your own, with how he pressed inside you.
"Don’t be shy now. Say it.” He growled. You felt your blush burn against your skin, shame flooding the pit of your stomach in that delicious way to whine back.
"Yes! I-i love it... love being fucked like a slut." Your body erupted in tingles as you took him deep inside. Your skin flushing from the sounds of his balls slapping against the fat of your ass the thick stretch of his cock pressing against every plush nerve. "Mhm, I love being fucked by you!"
"So dumb already off of a strangers cock… Tell me sweetheart have you had anyone ever fuck you as good as me? Any little boyfriends or partners?”
You don’t answer – you can't. With Toji in front of you like this, thick cock driving its way in like a weapon being slipped back into its sheathe- formulating coherent sentences are not at the forefront of your brain.
“I - I have-! Haven’t!!”
"Ah that’s too bad, doll, I'm the only one you got. You’re still a lil heartbreaker in my eyes." He cooed before pressing kisses against your shoulders. “I’m glad I get to fill this slutty lil pussy like it deserves. Definitely can’t let you go…” His deep chuckle at your stuttering begging and moans only entices the molten feeling building up.
Your thighs wrapping around his waist as his hips continue to piston through your orgasm. "That's it sweetheart. Soak my balls. Be a good girl f'me. Are you there, baby?" he asked, honestly checking up on you.
You whimper and muster up the energy to be verbal. "Feels ssogood...!” you slur out. A deep belly chuckle comes from him.
"Shit, I'm ruining you, baby. Making you the perfect fit just for me. You're perfect. Fuck- I’m gonna cum inside you- fill you up full.”
You wrapped your arms and legs around him even tighter, as a white ring bubbled around his shaft. Toji's name escaped your mouth as you were cumming for the second time, digging your nails into his skin as your back slamming against the door as your high washed over you. That triggered his orgasm. With a deep groan he flooded your walls with gooey, rich spurts to the point where you felt it drip down your thighs. He let out a sensitive breath as he fucked his cum deep inside of you.
Toji gently brought his movements to a stop as he leaned over you and panted like a tired dog. His tongue hanging as the corners of his mouth widened into a smile. Pausing for a moment for the two of you to catch a breath. He set you down and pressed kisses against your lips. As soon as your boots touched the tile you went down to your knees, a dainty hand taking ahold of his flagging, glossy erection.
“Wait hang on doll. I just finished, I’m sensitive- oooh fuck-“
You practically had hearts in your eyes when you nodded. “I can stop if you’d like. Unless that’s all you have to give me…” you trailed off. The sensation of his hand now resting against the back of your neck made you smile slightly. The reverberation of the music paired with the blood roared in your ears as you waited for his answer. Staring at his pretty pink cock glazed with your cum.
“Nah, no doll, it’s okay. I got more just for you. Keep going for me-“ He purrs as you lick over the swollen tip down has shaft, cradling his balls against your palm.
You look up at his towering figure with the prettiest eyes while you hollow your cheeks, taking his cock into your mouth. You bob your head slowly, taking in as much as you can. He throws his head back in utter ecstasy as your lips fully close around his impressive shaft.
Your tongue flattens against his cock, licking up one of the prominent veins and tears spring to your eyes as Toji's hips snap forward. "Shit, darlin'." He plants a hand on the top of your head, fingers curling into your hair as you deep throat him. After a few thrusts he eases his hold. You take your mouth off his cock, your hand stroking off his length while you look up at him. Mouth is parted, a string of saliva connecting your bottom and top lip, which is enough to drive him wild.
"You're cleaning it but you're still such a damn mess," he let out a breathy chuckle as you jerked him off. "Such a beautiful mess." His cock bobs against the side of your face. "I fucking love you doin’ that." You moan lowly at that, immediately snapping his attention to the low and sultry sound. Tapping the pink tip against your tongue with a few playful slaps before taking him back into your mouth. "Nothin' in that lil brain of yours, huh? You must love sucking me off." He pushes your head down, making you choke. "Fuck.. your throat- that tongue-" he huffs out, attention fully on you. He gazes down at you affectionately. Moaning at the eye contact, you hollow your cheeks to take him in further until your lips kiss the base of his shaft. He moans, grabbing two fist-fulls of your hair as he quickens the pace. The pretty shade of lipstick you had picked out for the evening repeatedly staining the base of his cock as you took him again and again.
Mascara runs down your cheeks and paint your waterlines an inky color as he takes in the sight of your face. It wasn’t long before he grunts out-"Cumming." He twitches against your tongue and with one more rock of his hips he finishes down your throat. You gulp and swallow, as he lets out a strained, overstimulated whine and fucks his release onto your tongue. Tears pooled on your lash line and the feeling of his cum bubbled on your lips when he pulled your head back away. The bit on your lips drizzles slowly, like honey, to the filthy tile floor.
"All clean." You whisper sweetly, yet hoarsely, against his thigh. His breaths are heavy as he tucks himself away. After a couple seconds you felt the weight of his palm pressing against your shoulder as he knelt down, scooping you up to your feet and keeping you steady.
“Fucking hell girl,” He managed a chuckle through his deep breaths, his thumb and forefinger lingering against your countenance. Panting for air, makeup disheveled, no matter what you looked like the lighting had always complimented you. You were immaculate as he held you close against him, leaning against the door of the stall and relishing in how you felt. His arm wrapped around your waist and he cradles your body against his own, kissing you languorously. “Let me give you my number, want to see you again real soon.”
Thank you so much for reading! Comments, suggestions, and reblogs are deeply loved!
౨ৎ experienced!sukuna x virgin f!reader
[adult boutique au] - ongoing series
❝ chasing your dreams isn't all it's cracked up to be. your apartment shakes when the train passes and eating a scoop of peanut butter and calling it girl dinner is getting depressing. when you finally manage to land a job at a store that sells sex toys, it's possibly the biggest relief of your life. there's just one issue:
you're a virgin.
you don't know the first thing about toys and you don't want your cute and flirty white-haired co-worker to know. against your better judgement, you find yourself turning to your other co-worker for lessons and learn the hard way he's just as much of an asshole in bed as he is at work. ❞
౨ৎ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. smut. fwb but you aren't friends. slow burn romance/fast burn smut. sukuna is 23ish, reader is 24/25ish. reader is sexually reserved but confident, nerdy, and a band geek. arrogant!sukuna. dom!sukuna. mild corruption. size difference. piv (protected & unprotected). sex toys. dildos. vibrators. sybians. shibari & bondage. restraint. gags. butt plugs. fingering. cock rings. clit stimulants. g-spot stimulants. nipple clamps. remote controlled vibrator. lubes. sex games. blindfolds. aphrodisiacs. biting. marking. possession. dick piercings & tattoos. established safe word. used safe word. loss of virginity. oral (f! and m!). handjob. dacryphilia. mating press. overstimulation. cum play. manhandling. edging. sensory deprivation. (mutual) masturbation (f! and m!). choking. mild love triangle with gojo.
i aim to spread sex positivity, explore the effects of the stigma around virginity, and educate on safety in exploring kinks :)
౨ৎ wc ; estimated 100k.
౨ৎ a/n ; art by ackshuallyvalerie <3 shoutout to @/yenayaps for sukuna dick piercing brain worms <33
ao3 || wattpad || main masterlist
1 ⊹ ࣪ untouched - coming soon!
2 ⊹ ࣪ coming soon
౨ৎ taglist ; OPEN. age must be visible in bio. 18+ only. permatags will be tagged in chapters.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, DlLFS (and MlLFS too!), age gaps (reader and JJK men are ALWAYS aduIts), arranged marriages (Toji), cIan Ieader!Toji, sIight exhíbitíonism, sIight bóndage (Nanami), mentions of kids, bréeding, manhandIing, matíng presses, HEADLOCKS, p sIapping, p talking, spítting, fíngering, rings and píercings, rockstar!Geto, headIines, use of ‘mómmy’ (Ino), miIking, overstím, súgar dáddies, running from it, oIder men, síxty-níne, talking you through it, pressing down, making it fit, he’s BIG, counting inches, overworked Higuruma, creampíes, cúmpIay, sIight cúmfIation, pIot, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. MWAHAHAH.
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The Arrangement.
“O-oh, sh—”
“Shhhhh.” Toji’s voice is dangerous. Low. His chin was hooked into the crook of your neck - and you’re getting pushed back down, down, dooooown his-
“Oh my…” Your mouth waters, weak arm reaching out to grasp the edge of the futon.
But Toji’s guiding it to his shaggy salt-and-pepper hair. Making you tug. Making you wrench.
His other palm - calloused after what you assume to be countless years of training his Heavenly Restriction - comes up to plaster over your mouth. “Unless ya want them to hear.” He mutters, referring to the council of elders seated behind the sliding doors.
You knew it was part of the ceremony: to make sure that you and the older clan leader…affirmed your new union.
An arranged marriage, of course. The marriage of the century in jujutsu society’s highest circles.
But even after a lavish wedding, and an even more lavish title suited to you, you still couldn’t believe that you were married to Zenin Toji.
Perhaps expected considering that the two of you had met just a few weeks ago; you’d announced to your council that you were ready for marriage. And they’d then presented you with a list of all the potential candidates for husband—every eligible bachelor from the Kamo clan to the rather obscure Fujiwara clan. The list had gone on and on with their names and ages.
And at the very end you’d spotted—
Zenin Toji—Age: 38 (once divorced).
As soon as the elders had noticed you focusing on that one name, they’d dismissed you with a nervous chuckle. “Oh, that’s just Toji. Ignore him, he’s just there out of obligation-”
“But why would I ignore him?”And that had effectively shut them up.
Although what you really wanted were more answers.
Toji.
Toji.
Most of the other candidates ranged across their twenties, and they were names you’d heard of in mere passing during those stuffy clan functions. Toji, however, was beyond that age range and once divorced—and you’d heard of him almost too well. You knew him without ever knowing him.
You’d heard of the newly-appointed Zenin clan leader as he fought against every single elder to claim his rightful title as head - the first one since…ever without a speck of cursed energy.
You’d heard of the terror of the Zenin clan - or so they whispered - who could bring down battalions with a single swipe of his cursed weapons. He didn’t need cursed energy—and what they feared above all was the power of raw humanity underneath it.
But…you’d also heard of the merciful man. The first Zenin clan leader to grant his wife a divorce when she wished for it, thus leaving him printed once more upon a paper listing jujutsu society’s bachelors.
Leaving him impressioned in your mind.
Zenin Toji was an enigma you wanted to understand.
And you laughed at the expressions upon your elders’ faces as you announced that the sole candidate you were interested in was none other than the notorious Toji. You could count on one hand how many had readily agreed to your union with the older man—and that would be exactly zero fingers.
However, the meeting had proceeded as tradition dictated. Your council of elders reached out to the uptight council of the Zenins - and they’d reached out to re-confirm thrice that the man you were really looking for was Toji. Wasn’t he much older? Wasn’t he fearsome? Wasn’t he difficult to understand?
You waved off their worries and met him over a fragrant tea ceremony.
To be quite honest; there wasn’t much talking between the two of you - although the Zenin elders kept up a constant stream of chatter with the elders of your own family. Meanwhile you simply looked at Toji over the rim of your ceramic cup—and—watched—
And he met your gaze just as intensely.
By the end of the tea ceremony, you nudged your elders to proclaim your approval for a union.
And Toji nodded his own approval.
The wedding preparations were accomplished in a week. It was a wedding for the history books - you heard that your council of elders were pushing to get it written in already - and it ended off with a lavish banquet that lasted into the long, long hours of the night.
As sunlight started seeping into the horizon, you and Toji got up from your seats at the head of the table. And you made your way to the master bedroom—where rows upon rows of elders sat outside in preparation for the consummation.
They were here to hear you-
“Fuck.” You can’t stop the sudden whimper that escapes you at the feeling of Toji hiking up one of his muscular thighs. He still had his wedding robes on - dishevelled upon his frame, the graze of expensive Zenin cotton n’ silk makes you shiver—
And as soon as you do, you feel one of his large palms settle at the base of your spine.
Toji keeps you pinned down - deliciously helpless - once he reaches that upright leg forwards and rests his heel atop your scalp. Stepping on your sweaty crown. Keeping you pinned in one place as he fucks you- with a sheer audacity that makes your jaw drop.
“Careful.” Toji’s low tone trundles out. You’re bent into such a shape that it makes his cock thicker- stretchin’ out your snug channel with a sultry squeeeelch! “Keep your mouth open like that and you’ll catch flies.”
Leaning down as far as he could, he then spits.
“Or you’ll catch me.”
A few more vicious strokes that leave you gaping.
A few more changing angles- Toji was the type to not just straightly thrust. He was stirring his cock ‘round in somewhat circular motions of his hips as he pummeled inside, managing to hit eeeeevery single nerve-ended spot inside you. “And- hah, and we wouldn’t wanna explain that to those old toads, heh?” Asking you. And then…not you. “Isn’t that right, fuckers?”
There’s restless murmuring from outside.
“W-well, maybe if you—fuuuuuck.” Just as soon as you’re mid-sentence - as though Toji had been waiting for this exact moment - he reaches forwards and slams! his ruddied tip into you hard enough that you can feel him in your damn throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”
“Loud.” Scoffing. “Though I bet they already know what’s happening- hah.”
You were in utter shambles.
Toji’s cock was sensually curved towards the right - the perfect angle to spot those areas where you were most sensitive and stimulate them until you were crying. “Y-you’re so shameless—!”
With a roll of his forest-green eyes, the clan leader crouches his body further forwards and accelerates his pace. His heel pressing down even harder.
With this position he had you in, Toji couldn’t keep his palm glued to your drivelling maw anymore. And he was letting it aaaaaall out—the more n’ more pretty moans that were leaving you, the more he’s speeding up his hips. Purposefully thumping his blushin’ red tip down your most precious spots.
And as if that wasn’t enough, he’s using his free hand to sift apart your stuffy pussy. Pressin’ aside your folds and getting a good eyeful of your entrance - getting flooded with his rock-hard inches, and then emptied out for him to do it all over again. And again. And again and again and—“And who was it that decided to marry me?”
You don’t know what’s hitting you harder: the shock of being called out, or the sudden wad of saliva that he’s spitting between your legs. “Well…me…”
Toji nods. “Pretty young thing like you…for what reason could you want to marry- me-” Every space between his words was punctured with a targeted strike to your g-spot. “Money? Name? Power?”
Your head’s getting foggy - you don’t even realize that you’re drooling before Toji looks down and tuts. He watches as a slick puddle formulates underneath you—“Did you wanna marry this ol’ clan leader for power, doll? S’that what you wanted?”
As much as you could, you’re shaking your head- difficult, given the way he still had the heel of his foot on you.
“No? Then what?” Toji pretends to think. “Hmmm, could it be that your clan elders pressured you into this, doll?” And just at that moment, he stops- even though it seems as if he wanted to say more. “I’ll kill you all if—”
It wasn’t targeted towards you.
But you’re vehemently denying—“No. No. Not at all…” Sobs and sultry moans strangle in your throat, and your poor, poor hips are driving back into his as much as you could. “Please- oh, I j-just wanted—”
“Let me think.” Now that he’d started his vigorous pace up again, your eardrums were crackling with the constant pap-pap-pap! of Toji’s toned hips hitting yours. He was just so large - in every possible way, it was as though he was engulfing you with his massive body, with his shaft stretchin’ out your insides in ways you’ve never experienced before. “Is it because- haaaaah…” Toji breathes, the cloud of his heated breath wafting down your arched spine. “Is it because you knew that those other- boys couldn’t fuck you as well as I could?”
Your jaw drops- “Fuck.”
But it seems that Toji had found his footing. He drags you even harder against him - the ramming of your two bodies almost violently shaking the flooring beneath. “Is it because you knew that- mmm, this pussy would always be satisfied with me?” Whatever little jostling you’re experiencing at his movements, he’s considering it a nod. “Is it because you’d been greedy? Because you’ve been yearning-”
Somehow, he’s tipping his head backwards and managing to perfect a stream of spit down onto your stuffed cunt.
“-for someone more mature. Someone that knows how to handle a pussy, doll?” Voice dipped in lust. “Have you been yearning for Zenin Toji to fuck you properly?”
“Y-yes—” You pitch out softly. Sniffling. Seeing stars behind your eyelids. “Toji, m’so close…”
“So cum, then?” He snickers, as though it should be the most obvious thing in the world. “What’re you waiting for? Permission?” Leaning back and projecting his voice - though, not for you. “Just so y’know, I’m gonna make my wife cum.”
“Oh-oh my god—” The words crackle in your throat as a final bash to your syrupy-sweet spot leaving you careening into your high. Stars of pleasure burst behind your shuttered lids - and you’re dragged through wave upon wave of white-hot bliss.
It overtakes you like nothing you’ve ever felt before.
And Toji was only more than happy to prolong them using his length. Hitting you right when your peaks were at their highest - and if you were in the right state, then you’d wonder how he even managed to time them - and making your veins feel molten within. Making you whimper and thrash into him. Thrashing and thrashing—fucked like you’ve never been before through your orgasm.
You’re so hazy afterwards that you barely even register the shuffling outside the bedroom - as the elders started making their way back to the banquet. Mission accomplished, you suppose.
And Toji takes his foot off your head.
“Haaaaah, fuck.” He hisses. “Want to give them an encore, my wife?”
You couldn’t nod faster.
Before you know it, he’s tipping his head back and calling out - at the elders—
“Get ready for an encore, fuckers.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Parent-teacher DATING?!
“Ms. Teacher…”
Itadori’s sweet, sweet voice breaks through your conversation with one of the parents; and you’re looking down to see him clasping one end of your flower-patterned apron. Pink brows furrowed. Chubby cheeks puffed. And how could anyone resist that face?
So throwing an apologetic smile at the parent, you’re leaning down slightly so that you could hear the little boy better. “Yes, Yuji?”
He cups a hand over his mouth then leans in towards your ear as if to whisper. “I have a secret to tell you.” And he does not whisper.
Still, you bite back a giggle and ask. “Oh, really? How exciting. Do I get to know that secret, Yuji?”
He nods.
Then leans in once more-
“My papa has a big, big crush on y-”
“Yuji—!”
You didn’t have to look up to see that it was none other than Nanami Kento, Itadori’s father, pushing past a few gossiping parents and kids playing jumprope- heading in your direction. He quickly clasps Itadori’s arm and gently tugs the boy away, “I am so, so sorry—I have no idea what’s gotten into him-” Nanami pinches the top of his nosebridge with a sigh. “He seems to have gotten it into his head that I have f-feelings for you, and…”
You watch, almost astounded, as the ever-stoic Nanami’s ears burn bright red.
“A-and I sincerely apologize if he made you uncomfortable in any way-”
“Oh, no.” You’re raising your hands up and fervently shaking your head. “He didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. Did you, Yuji?”
“Yup!” Those tufts of pink hair atop his head bounce as he nods as well, beaming - happy to see that you were on his side, at the very least. He then turns back to Nanami. “I didn’t make Ms. Teacher uncomfortable, papa. I just told her what you told me-”
“Sunshine…” Nanami grumbles, though with less panic in his voice this time.
And you’re biting back a smile as you look between the handsome father and his son; it’d been two years since Nanami had adopted Itadori, according to what the man had told you when he’d first enrolled the boy in Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary. Since then, you’ve had the privilege of watching over the father-son duo as they become closer, as they found family in one another, as they opened themselves up to both the school and you.
And although you knew you shouldn’t have favorites as a teacher - you can’t deny that one of the best parts of your day was seeing the two.
Yes, the two.
It didn’t quite help that Nanami Kento was the talk amongst the single ladies and men at pick-up. Tall. Tender. With his broad shoulders and his blond hair—always slicked back, not even a single strand out of line.
Nanami was the type of man to hold doors open for students, other parents, and teachers alike - he’d happily stand there for half an hour as an entire grade passed by, if he had to.
Nanami was the type of man to not worry about what anyone thought of him as he let his energetic son paste stickers all over him, or use the play make-up he’d snagged from Kugisaki.
Nanami was the type of man to buy you a large bouquet of roses for Teacher’s Day- roses. And he’d apologized for at least fifteen minutes about not meaning any sort of innuendo, and he’d completely understand if you didn’t want to take them—you’d cut him off then n’ there by taking them with a gracious thank you. Even if others at pick-up shot you knowing smiles.
So could you blame yourself if you happened to form a crush on the man?
And hearing what Itadori had to say about it now…
“I wouldn’t mind, y’know.” You speak once you’d ushered Itadori to play with some of his friends—Fushiguro and Kugisaki had just been dropped off. And Nanami was still standing next to you, watching as his son scampered off after causing perhaps the most chaos he’s ever experienced in his life.
But ah…your voice was low enough that it couldn’t be heard by anyone around you two. Perhaps not even Nanami himself- but of course, he heard.
Of course, he heard.
He turns to you with widened eyes, “I uh…I- excuse me?”
You turn back to him with a grin, “How about coffee sometime this week?”
“I have a better plan.” As soon as the first bout of shyness wears off, he’s clearing his crackling throat and answering you. “How about dinner?”
.
.
.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuh-fuck.” Nanami wrenches between clenched teeth. His hot breath sticks against the side of your throat; and every single puff makes your skin erupt with perspiration.
Which worked for him—it just let the movements between your two ravenous bodies proceed even faster, slipperier, sloppier. Nanami has you pressed flat against his neat mattress, in a bedroom that was humble and meticulously organized - and with Itadori at Fushiguro’s for a sleepover, the two of you could let those ancient bedsprings creak as much as they liked.
Nanami could fuck you as hard as you liked.
He’s grinding that golden happy trail into your front; both palms pressed flatly atop your inner thighs to keep them open. To keep you stretched as faaaaar apart as you could go—because fuck- Nanami’s cock was thick enough that he had to pin you down n’ squeeeeeeze his inches inside as far as they could go.
Rubbin’ his prominent veins along your walls. Entire body tensing up whenever you clench-
“Fuuuuuuck.” With a heavy sigh, he’s letting his head tip backwards. And honestly—you don’t think you’d ever seen a more attractive sight.
You’ve always known that Nanami was ripped underneath those office button-ups of his - but this was damn-near Herculean. The way his shoulders were defined and pulled taut as they closed in on you, the way his chest was absolutely luscious—you almost wanted to take a bite. And you’d guessed that with energetic Itadori as a son, he hadn’t had the time to hit the gym lately.
Because there was a layer of thickness over his muscles that left Nanami softer and stronger- the soft curve of his belly pushes down on your core.
Jostling your body back n’ forth with every honed thrust.
Banging at the back of your cervix and your throat- “Fuck. It feels so good, Kento.”
“S-soooooo fucking good.” And you wonder which one of you two was more gone on your syrupy cunt: you or him. Nanami struggles to keep his damn head up- collapsing into the crook of your neck and letting out botched groans- every single time his sensitive tip slid uuuuuup your channel into its deepest depths. He almost sounded as though he was in pain as he wept—“F-forgive me, darling.”
Perking your head off the plush pillows, “What for, Kento?”
“Well it’s just…” And his foggy glasses were still on his face - which Nanami pushes up his nose bridge. “I haven’t felt this good in—forever. So forgive me if I’m a little…”
And then he’s surging his hips forwards and giving you a good thwack! with the rounded end of his shaft. Enough to make stars appear in your vision-
“-rough.”
And then it’s like the floodgates have opened.
Because Nanami’s grip on you grows hard enough to leave fucking nail marks, his sweat splashes with the urgency of his movements. “And I wanted to f-fuck you all niiiiiice and slow like this pretty pussy deserves.” Those strong arms keep manhandling you open as he shovels straight into you. “W-wanted to show you that a mature man like me could- hngh, make you feel the best you’ve ever felt.”
“But I already do…” You huff out, arms thrown needily around his neck.
Yet Nanami doesn’t seem to hear—he doesn’t even seem to register. At least, the only acknowledgement that you get of your response is the way his body flinches ever-so-slightly at the mere sound of your voice. “And yet…” Those hazel-brown eyes of his widen as they run down your body, ultimately resting where your pussy was bloated all ‘round him. “And yet, one kiss of these pretty lips and I’m done for.”
“D-done for…” You repeat - mostly because you don’t know what else to do.
Don’t know what else you’re capable of doing other than wrapping your weak legs around his waist. Your hamstrings stretch and scream; and you’re sobbing yourself as his pace seems to accelerate.
“I can feel myself…” Nanami speaks through a watery mouth. “-getting fucking addicted—shit, like some hormonal punk. I should know better. A man my age…”
“Oh- oh, Kento.”
“I should know better- I should fucking know better.” He admonishes himself - though that doesn’t stop or even slow down the feral pap-pap-paps! of his pelvis hitting yours. Through scrunched-up eyes, he’s gazing upon you. “C-can’t believe you got some old man like me-” Despite your instant protests. “-to finally break.”
After a few more sudden strikes - almost animalistic - you’re managing to string together enough syllables. “But…I don’t mind, Kento.”
And that—that might just be the one thing that makes him falter. “Pardon?” He blinks up at you with glazed-over eyes.
Nodding, “I promise I don’t mind.” In fact, you’re tugging him in with a fistful of his blond strands between your fingers. “I- ngh! want you to go even harder…if you can-”
“Of course I can, my love.” The both of you are startled by his instant answer. “I-I mean, if you know that it means I might leave a few marks and—even more marks.” Perhaps most notably on your spongy cervix, welcoming his bashing thrusts.
But you don’t mind. Like you said.
You’re nodding even harder, “Yes, please.”
So polite. How could he ever refuse?
And in the blink of an eye, the blond-haired man leans over to clasp that patterned tie draped over his bedpost. It’d gotten thrown there sometime after the frenzy of getting home - quite convenient for when Nanami wanted to throw it loosely over his clammy neck and give you the other end to hold onto—
“Don’t be afraid to pull if it gets too much.” He puffs out at you in a breezy breath.
“Too much?” You ogle up at his handsome face. You half-jokingly wondered whether the bed - and perhaps you - would be in one piece by the time that Itadori gets home tomorrow. It was going to be a never-ending night…
“Mhm, because this is going to be rough, darling.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Controversy.
WHO IS ROCKSTAR HEARTTHROB GETO SUGURU’S GIRLFRIEND? HOW CAN WE BE HER?!
GOLD DIGGER?! BASSIST OF 6EYES SHUTS DOWN MALICIOUS RUMORS SURROUNDING BEAU: SAYS THEY ARE ‘BULLSHIT’.
DILF OFF THE MARKET: GETO SUGURU CONFIRMS RELATIONSHIP OF ‘YEARS’ HE SAYS.
Everyone knew of Geto Suguru. Or so it seemed when they were screaming his name and cursing yours—everyone wanted to be with him.
Or be him.
Who wouldn’t? Thick rings. Grey-black hair. Feline smile.
A 6’2, long-haired dreamboat that just-so-happened to be the bassist of the hottest rock band on the charts right now: 6Eyes. They’d been discovered quite early on - when they’d just been out of high school, actually - and had maintained a steady presence in the music scene ever since. Shattering record after record and filling stadium after stadium. By the time you’d gone with some of your college friends to one of their concerts, they were already titans in the industry—and you’d been an instant fan.
So imagine your surprise when your friend announced that one of the security had invited your group backstage.
That was the night you’d met Geto Suguru - you’d locked eyes and the both of you had just known.
You signed that NDA. You met for dates under disguises. And you’d even met his young adopted daughters- oh, you adored them.
Several months later, when TMZ or some other site had broken the story of Geto secretly dating a fan over ten years younger than him - and that was when scandal ensued. The fandom was rabid—and you understood.
Though Geto, who was rather used to biting headlines and speculation, told you that the whole thing would blow over soon enough- you holed up in your shared penthouse. You turned off your social media notification. You tried not to turn on any celebrity news channel.
And you decided: the very least you could do is make a good first impression…
“Easy now…easy there…” Geto holds the recorder in one hand n’ the side of your hips in his other. You’re maddeningly aware of both the rolling tape and the way his puckered, pretty tip is getting guided to your entrance—“Don’t strain yourself now. Trust Suguru.”
Just the very first inch of it slipping lusciously between your pussylips and easing inside.
Geto was always so thick, donning numerous veins that creep up the sides of his shaft in zig-zagging patterns. And the sheer girth of him intruding is enough to make you gasp-
“Mmm, that’s good.” The older man murmurs with a smile- long, greying hair forming a curtain around the two of you. “Let’s try again. A little louder this time.” Before he reels his hips back the mere inches he’s squeezed inside, and then rammin’ right back in again - it sounds the loudest squelch! as you’re taking even more of him. “Ohhhh, that’s good. Maybe I can use that as the outro, heh?”
“Maybe just use it for the entire ch-chorus.” You hiss.
“Trying to take my spotlight?” Geto leans down to kiss your swollen lips- or so you think. He’s pressing his pierced mouth against yours and gnawin’ down on your lower lip.
“Scared of- mmpf. Scared of being ousted by the young new talents?”
The edges of his lips curling upwards. “A rock veteran like me? Oh, I don’t think I have anything to be scared of…”
And you can only moan straight into his greedy, greedy maw as you’re jostled back and forth. Geto’s thrusts were oh-so-merciless and puncturing deeeeep into your womb—using the smooth Prince Albert’s piercing atop his flared tip, he’s torching every hidden spot and nerve-end inside. Mazin’ around your walls and pushing into those little ridges that just made your back arch into him-
His eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles.
“Hey hey-” The only thing snapping you out of your frenzy is Geto’s sharp tuts. He stalls your restless hips by hooking his fingers into your thighs and throwing them over his broad shoulders- dragging you back into him. “Don’t run away, gorgeous—the studio session’s not over yet.”
“I wasn’t running away.” You huff.
“Sure seemed like it to me.” He grins - that silver piercing of his glinting in the dim lighting. It was the type of Cheshire-cat grin that you knew wouldn’t bode well for you…and as soon as you’re thinking about it, Geto opens his sensual mouth and spits—straight between your lips.
The wad lands softly on your tongue.
And Geto himself reaches a second ringed hand up to close your jaw- to urge you to swallow. “Remember to keep those vocals hydrated, gorgeous. We’re getting to the good part now.”
You think you could gasp at the audacity—but what’s leaving you instead are a series of long, lewd moans. Mewls. Pleas.
He’s drawing them out over and over again by hiking your thighs up his shoulders and pressing you into a mean mating press- lunging his body down into yours. Crushing your pliable self underneath him. Slashing your cervix with loooooong thrusts and his ropey precum puddling sweetly at the back of your pussy.
“Yeah- yeah, louder now.” Pushing the recorder even closer. “Louder, girl.”
“I am—oh.” With the way he was fucking you like he almost hated you - though it was rather the opposite - your sentences warble with hiccups and gasps. The lines of his veins were somehow massaging the exact hidden spots that drove you wild.
“You got this.”
“Fuck-”
“Louder. S’just you and me.” This was exactly what he wanted to hear - his favorite melody was you. “Just a bit of chopping up n’ remixing- this is perfect. Gonna sound so fuckin’ pretty to my bass.”
“Fuh-feels so good-”
“Mhmmm, I know, gorgeous. Now let the listeners know.”
Making your noise pitch upwards in volume.
After a few more strokes, he bores down at you with a thoughtful expression. “Now…why don’tcha try calling me ‘Sugu’ for the recording?”
“You want me to be sappy? Okay, rockstar.” You’re unable to bite your tongue fast enough- though your snapping only makes him even more excited.
Amethyst eyes glistening. “Oh, don’t be a diva just yet, newbie.” The older musician brings the audio recorder closer to catch your every breath, “Trust me. I’ve been in this industry for a loooooong time- c’mon now. Listen to your- heh, vocal coach—say ‘Sugu’.”
How you loved riling him up just as much as he did to you. “Then give me something good to moan for, baby.”
“Don’t test my patience, superstar.”
Though he does as you say.
You should have expected it all the same; the rockstar had mapped out every single good spot inside you. And it was with a near-photographic memory that he’s inching his length backwards- until it was just his lavish red tip lickin’ up your entrance.
Just for a second…just for two…
Before slamming into your g-spot so hard n’ suddenly that you almost sob.
Making your cunt mold to the exact texture of his circular piercing- hitting your sensitive area first, before then pushing his smooth tip into it as well. You’re feeling every bit of him—and you’re making sure that your future audiences can hear it, too.
“S-Sugu—!” You’re thrashing in his arms- and he’s crashing and crashing his hips into you. Gluing the heated, stinging pink skin of his pelvis against yours so ferally that you can’t keep up with his pace no matter how fast you’re attempting to buck and bounce.
“Oh, that one’s going in the intro for sure.” He titters.
“S’fucking mean.” You whimper as he pushes down on your lower half - purposefully, so that his scruffy happy trail scratches your clit.
“Sugu knows best.” So sweetly, he kisses your forehead—and you wonder whether the loud smacking sound that he leaves behind is more for the recorder or to make you squirm. Shy, much? “Now how about I fuck you pregnant n’ we just announce the baby on the album?”
You pause for a second - before a smile twitches at your lips. “A rockstar baby? You read my mind.”
He reciprocates. “Always knew you were made f’me.”
The headlines were sure to love this.
♡ CHOSO KAMO - MY UNCLE’S GF?!
Someone had suggested playing two truths and a lie:
You weren’t a lot older than Choso- at least in his eyes. That didn’t matter to him.
Choso has always wanted you.
He’s over that now, though.
Choso’s palms are sweaty ‘round his lightweight beer as he utters the words; words just a little louder than he intended them to be. Maybe that was the pre-game finally kicking in—but he couldn’t blame it on that, either. Had it been called three truths and a lie, then Choso would have also confessed that he was stone-cold sober as he murmurs two of his deepest secrets to the little circle of drunk college kids.
And you.
You…you’re looking at him like you’d already guessed he’d say that.
Had he really been that obvious? Choso first met you three years ago, during his sophomore year in college, when he’d gone home for the holidays—and discovered that, this year, Sukuna had been dragged home, too. Except…his uncle hadn’t come alone this time.
He’d brought along- you.
You were the one to greet him at the door—and Choso remembers his breath catching in his chest. He remembers feeling his heart bang against his ribcage. He remembers his eyes widening- and his mouth gaping stupidly as you introduced yourself.
So caught up in you, he’d been forced to ask Sukuna for your name again-
“Back off.” His uncle had scoffed, crimson eyes narrowing. Honestly - Ryomen Sukuna was the only person alive that could make cotton candy-pink hair look intimidating. “Don’t think I don’t see the way yer looking at her.”
He’d probably stammered something intelligible-
“Look all ya want- if she feels uncomfortable, she’ll thump ya herself. But you can’t touch.” Sukuna set his beer bottle down. “M’actually serious about this one.”
And Choso could see why - you were the first person that Sukuna had ever brought into the Itadori family home. You were smart. You were funny. You weren’t afraid to put the pink-haired man in his place. You were fucking gorgeous—
And…you were Sukuna’s girlfriend. Ten years older than Choso.
Which is why - no matter how badly you made his heart flutter - Choso had vowed to never, never so much as even think to act upon his feelings for you.
He just had to grit his teeth and avoid prolonged conversation with you during every family function and gathering you attended with Sukuna- of which the man was making an appearance at every single one now. Almost as though to provoke him even more.
And Choso was forced to make peace with the fact that he’d never make peace with his feelings.
That is…until the two of you broke up.
He’d heard news about it just a few weeks ago, actually- his father had said something about Sukuna being down in the dumps after you’d broken up with him. Something about not making enough time and drifting apart—Choso hadn’t heard the details, he’d been too overwhelmed with the guilty glee that’d shot through his body and made his heart pound. And then just tonight - oh, how he wished he could kiss whoever was looking down at him (but no, that was saved for you…) - Choso just-so-happened to run into you at the bar he was attending with his friends.
So of course he had to invite you over to their table.
Of course, he had to ignore your protests about being older than them all. None of that shit mattered.
Of course, he had to sit right opposite you on the table and divulge his greatest secret - one he’d been keeping to himself for three years now.
You’re just opening your mouth to respond-
When Choso’s feeling a harsh smack! on his back and one of his friends crowing in his ear. “Atta boy! You never struck me as the type to like MILFs, man.”
“Technically I’m not a MILF yet.” You giggle, fixating your gaze upon him. He almost flinches. “But you’re right…I never thought you’d be the type to like older women. I’m ten years older than you, Choso, you know that right?”
Choso mumbles almost too quietly to hear. “Th-that doesn’t matter to me…”
“Yeah- and you’d probably like that ‘ma’am’ shit, eh?” His friend guffaws, making the now-bashful Choso - whatever courage he had liquified - duck his head. “Oh- sorry I didn’t mean—”
“No, no.” You dismiss the babbling college boy. “I’m not offended at all. In fact, you might be right.”
The table bursts into wolf whistles-
And it’s a blur until you’re ragging with the banter a little more - before discreetly excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Choso’s staring up at you - totally not admiring your back like some pathetic lovesick fool - before catching your gaze and your pointed wink.
And then he’s scrambling right after you. As discreetly as a sledgehammer.
.
.
.
Nose buried into the crook of your neck. Mouth gaped wide open- letting out the sweetest crackling moans into your skin.
Choso had you pushed against the bathroom stall - clean, don’t you worry - with his arms wrapped around your body n’ his cock shoved between your legs. Dragging in and out in a way that was so messy—he’s roverin’ around his globules of cum with that fat tip of his, and then reeling his hips rapidly backwards to spray it down your walls over and over.
He’d cum as soon as he’d put it inside.
And it wasn’t his fault.
Honest!
“Oh- oh.” And now he was panting desperate breath after breath between thrusts—“I’m sorry…the condom broke, baby.” Choso’s lower lip cutely trembles as he speaks. “Can’t help it. And then your pussy’s just so warm and welcoming a-and…”
His breath hitches as he hits that one gluttonous spot that makes you clench.
“-and I just- can’t- when you’re squeezing me like that.”
Basically hypnotized, Choso’s slender fingers dip down between your legs. And so swiftly - that you’re almost surprised at his nimbleness - he pulls out of your wet hole n’ clasps his hand around his barely-wrapped length. The rubber condom had been too tight around him, and it’d shattered into a million pieces—Choso looks up at you through his doe-like lashes, and waits until you’re nodding.
That’s when he’s wringing off his broken condom and squeezing out whatever wetness it held. Pushing out the cum back onto your pussy.
Making such a mess.
Those pure-white droplets that end up splattered back down on your pussy- warm and utterly unwholesome. A sinful cover. He wasn’t leaving a single ounce wasted. “Sh-shit.” Choso’s mouth gapes wide open. “It’s all your fault…”
Just the cutest trickle of saliva makes its way down his lips - and you’re reaching upwards to wipe it away. “Awwww. Ever done it raw before, Cho?”
After a brief bout of hesitation, he shakes his head.
“I’ve never done it before.” He confesses. Your eyes widen, so he was a virgin…
“Then are you sure you can handle it, baby? No need to push yourself if-”
“No.” He gasps. Sharp. Shot-through. It leaves his lips before he even knows what’s happening- and then you’re clenching again in a way that makes his brows twist together, and his fingers dig into your waist. “No, no, no, no-” Eyes frenzied. “We don’t have to stop f’me, baby. We don’t even have to slow down—”
Cum-coated; his thickened cock gets sandwiched between your lips then jerked back and forth a few times. By now he was so wet with slick n’ sap that it was making him slip a few times before he’s actually managing to get it in again—and that, too, with your help.
You reach down to help grip Choso’s raging-hot erection, and guide it inside your cunt: an action that leaves the other man blushing down to the roots of his hair. Even his tip throbs just a little harder—“Th-thank you, ma’am.”
Your brows raise in amusement- and it only hits him then. So he was into the ‘ma’am’ thing.
“I mean- baby.” He sounds so utterly ruined. “Thank you, baby. Promise I can handle it now, m’kay?”
And oh…you can’t deny that it was just so fun to tease him. “Hmmm…I dunno, Choso-”
Chocolate-brown bangs sticking to your skin, he’s lurching his face away to bore straight into your eyes. “I-is it because I’m younger?” He asks with a hint of desperation, and your lips part as your ex’s hot nephew keeps steamrolling away with his pussydrunken mouth. Poor, poor Choso. “Because I promise I can handle it. I can fuck you- ngh, the best. Promise m’gonna make you feel sooooo—”
Choso’s hips were hammerin’ away at a pace you’d never have suspected- and his hips end up crushed against yours. So close that the scruff of his happy trail scratches your clit raw.
“-g-good.” A single tear track runs down his face - you’re unsure whether he’s talking about you or himself.
“Easy there, tiger.” You’re pushing back on a stray lock of his hair- darker now with perspiration. The sweet gesture makes Choso huffs.
It wasn’t doing him any favors, however, as that only made him look even cuter. You’re craning your neck and planting a chaste peck on his bubblegum-pink lips—only for Choso to take control of the kiss and softly bite down on your bottom lip. “Baby-” He rasps. And with just how sweet Choso had always been to you, you could’ve almost forgotten how strong he was- how easily he could bounce you down on his cock- how needy he was for you. Feral. Even though you had him wrapped ‘round your finger, he was jostling your pussy’s inside like craaaazy. “Don’t do that. Don’t baby me- I need to be taken- ngh, s-seriously by you, m’kay?”
“Oh…” You’re letting out a heated breath as his tip empties out at your cervix.
And to prolong that sensation; Choso claws his hand up and pushes on the lower part of your stomach. Right beneath where your cunt was expanding and contracting with his cock. “Feel how big I am?” He doesn’t stop putting pressure on that spot until you’re nodding - “How hard? How much I’m leaking?” Just on cue, a splatter! of precum leaks between your pussylips.
And with something like a broken whimper- Choso snakes his fingers down to push the leakage back up your channel.
“O-oh—this pussy’s so fuckin’ wet. And I can handle it- I can handle it.” He utters more to himself. The more he’s speaking, the harder and longer he’s fucking you, the more ruined he sounds. “M’not as innocent as you think, baby.”
“Oh? Do tell.” You smile.
Such a gorgeous, gorgeous smile that he almost hesitates wiping away with a roll of his thumb - stimulating the nerves of your clit. But it makes you break out into the prettiest lewd expression that leaves him rutting his hips even harder, “Do you have any idea how fuh-fucking long I’ve waited for this? How badly I’ve wanted to- ngh, stuff my cock and fuck you like an animal?” As he trails off, he feels his stinging tip start to twitch even more wildly. Dangerously. “Fuck—”
“H-how long?” You’re asking with a smug smirk.
Choso’s blinking a few times just to let the question register- and finally muttering. “Even when you were dating- him. Ever since I first saw you…” And then he rubs his thumb at an even more steadied pace, matching it to the pushes of his spearing cock. “You were wearing that red dress of yours- hah, and I could see the strap of your pretty pink bra peaking out…the one with the bows on-”
That makes you gasp.
Which Choso takes advantage of to plaster his lips against yours n’ suckle on your tongue.
“And then-” Barely managing out through kisses- through stabs of his length- through the pleasure. “And then you called me ‘baby’ as you were getting ready to leave, and I- ngh, knew you were teasing me for being younger—fuck, I h-had to run to the bathroom just to jerk off.”
Rovering his mushroomy trip straight into your nerve-ended g-spot; you’re arching into his chest as you feel Choso lose his grip on his sanity.
Already having been so loose.
He’s babbling as he cums long and hard, and oh-so-deeeeeply into your cunt. Mouth ajar. Body collapsing against yours - caging you even further against the bathroom wall. “Baby- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”
“Shit, so much…” Just feeling the ribbons upon ribbons of creamy-white sap he was emptying out. Hot. hypnotizing. Every stroke managed to hit your best spots, and every push meant your pussy was getting overloaded with his cum. The inches of his shaft were curved just perfectly enough that he’s managing to slip aside your walls and use his tip to circle and circle those webs of cum at the very base of your pussy. All over.
Soon enough, you’re feeling a layer of it make its way down your inner-thighs—and Choso still didn’t seem like he was going to stop anytime soon. You moan, “H-how can you cum this much- mmpf.”
He captures your lips in another sloppy kiss. “Must be the stamina of a younger guy.”
“Choso you’re pussydrunk.” You’ve never heard him sound so drawling and dreamy.
“Hmmmm…” He’s nuzzling the crook of your neck, leaving bite marks that will be entirely too difficult to explain when you’re going back outside. “Did you cum? Promise I can- ngh, make you cum, too…” Grazing your skin with his lips.
“Prove it, then.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 6…9?
“It’s a fuckin’ pandemic, isn’t it?”
You’re looking at your boyfriend over the rim of your book, “Excuse me?”
Sukuna was seated on the armchair in the corner of your bedroom; just having finished a video call with his brother and his nephew. The bright chatter (at least from their end) had died down some minutes ago, and they’d bid your boyfriend goodnight—which was rather the same routine for these biweekly calls. Despite how much the two of you visited, Itadori Yuji always found it too hilarious to put strange filters on his grumpy uncle.
Except, tonight…Sukuna had sat in the armchair for a few minutes longer.
Usually; he would join you in bed.
Usually; he would grumble - though with a fond smile on his face - about whatever Yuji had been chattering about before.
He was practically an honorary father to the boy, and it always made you smile to see.
Usually; he wouldn’t look up at you as expressionless as if he’d seen a ghost- as if his soul had wafted away. And ask you about some…pandemic? Did Yuji put something in his head again?
At the confused expression on your face, Sukuna was heaving out a sigh—pushing up those glasses that were totally, most definitely not glasses and merely a tool he uses to…see…better up his handsome nosebridge. Sukuna was in his late thirties, and silver was beginning to tinge the edges of his pink hair, climbing up his temples. His crows’ feet creased as he frowned at you, “The…67 thing. It’s a pandemic.”
“67 thing?” You gape, your book plopping down on the bed.
“You heard me.” He scoffs. “I’ve been thinking it’s mass hysteria- every brat at his kindergarten keeps repeating it. But there seems to be no pattern or cohesion. I thought it was just those damn kindergarteners, but the other day I even caught Jin saying it-”
“S-six…seven…thing.” You’re repeating - for no reason other than to confirm to yourself that what you’re hearing was real.
Sukuna straightens in his chair, “See? Now it’s got you—”
“Kuna, like the meme?” You’re shaking your head, “The one from the song? Oh my god, it’s not mass hysteria-”
He crinkles his nose. “The hell is a…meme?”
“You don’t know what a—” How has he been Yuji - of all people’s - uncle but still had no idea? You continue, “It’s basically an Internet inside joke- it’s been over for a while now but the kids are still obsessed with it.” Finally gripping your book once more, you level him a look. “You didn’t seriously think it was mass hysteria, did you, Kuna?”
Sukuna crosses his bulky arms and looks away. “Tch—”
And when he catches you giggling, he barks-
“What?!”
“Oh- nothing.” And from the smile upon your lips - Sukuna knew that whatever was coming out of your mouth next wasn’t about to be anything sincere.
Which is why he’s raising himself off the sofa and climbing up the foot of your bed.
You continue, “It’s just you’re getting old, Kuna.”
Joking; nothing ever riled Ryomen Sukuna up more than teasing him for not understanding some new slang or lyric.
And with how much he riled you up sometimes—you had to get back at him somehow, alright?
Soon enough, he’s pinning you down to the bed - with his toned pelvis pressing down on your waist, and his arms creeping upwards to keep your wrists pushed against the mattress. “Say that shit again. I dare you.”
You’re leaning up as though to kiss him. “Old man.”
.
.
.
Sukuna’s tongue was zig-zagging wiiiiildly between your legs- striking the soft circle of your entrance and then swervin’ as deeply inside as it could go. Deeper. Deeper.
No matter how fervently his mouth was glued to your pussy.
No matter how ravenously.
His hips rut off the bed with every single lick—and that fat, throbbing tip of his kept shovelling n’ shovelling at a synchronized pace with his tongue.
He had you twisted in sixty-nine with your pussy latched onto his lips.
Sukuna’s own cock squeezing out heavy volumes of his salty precum near your lips, then promptly pushin’ them inside with his thrusts- Sukuna was so loooong and rock-hard that he was managing to swab across every spot and directly target the back of your throat. Playing with that dangly in the back.
You’re moaning as he squeezes two ringed-decorated fingers into your tight cunt. And he grins as he feels the vibrations—“Ah ah- s’rude to talk with your mouth full.”
Just then, Sukuna’s planting a smack! on your pussy that makes you pull off of his shaft with a loud pop! “H-hey…”
“What?” He trundles. Reaching his hips up and guiding his needy tip back into your mouth, “Speak.”
All because he knew that you’d attempt to nonetheless- and it would end up with the most lewd noises being muffled into this cock. It would end up with his eyes scrunching shut, his head throwing backwards at the shocks of pleasure. “Th-thought I told you to speak? Hah- not babble. Cock got your tongue or something?”
And…it would end up with you being all huffy n’ puffy. “That’s not even f-fair…”
“Heh- fair?” From where he’d been nipping at your clit, Sukuna pulls off - just to confirm he wasn’t hearing things. He wasn’t. And though you couldn’t see his expression from this angle, you could practically hear the amusement in his tone. “What happened to me being old, huh? You surely don’t need me to go easy on you.”
“I d-didn’t say that…” You’re stubbornly answering him - though the constant drives of his fingers were driving you absolutely mad. Sure.
“Good.” And then you’re feeling two more consecutive smack-smacks! atop your bloated folds. “Because, babydoll…m’barely even started.”
In no time, Sukuna has you manhandled so that your stomach’s against the soft bed. Your back’s against his thoroughly toned front - so incredibly strong; he was bulky—with a layer of thickness to him that made your skin tingle with want - and his erect cock placed between your legs. He takes a few moments to wetten your core up- because no matter how many times you’ve taken him, you think you’ll never get used to Sukuna’s sheer size.
And before long you’re clawing onto the headboard for dear life—as he damn-near molds your tender cunt to his size. Startin’ at the tip-top of his bloated shaft, and then bouncing you down- down- down so many inches greedily.
Utterly greedily.
“Oh- oh, fuuuuuck.” Hands shooting forwards to grab onto more of the mahogany frame.
But Sukuna stops you right then n’ there by wrapping his right arm around your neck; like a wreath, your pants are immediately cut off. And his muscles bulge as they tighten—the defined ridges of his biceps pushing against your throat - it’s sensual enough to make your mouth water…“And where’d you think you’re going, huh?”
“Nowher- mmpf.” Cut off immediately by the tightening of his muscled restraint.
“Lying’s not a good look, brat.” Then his second set of fingers snakes down to spank! your stuffed pussy- right atop your bloated folds. The shockwaves that run up your spine are enough to make you buck and whine—and enough to make him drag you back into him. Again and again. “Wasn’t stuffing this mouth earlier ‘nough to teach you a little lesson?”
So stubborn. “Not at all-”
He’s spitting straight between your lips.
And when Sukuna’s fucking you; it’s with harsh, pointed jabs - scouring deeeeep into the bottom of your pussy and leaving the mark of his cockhead. That rounded bruise you feel throb-throb-throbbin’ away every time he repeats the action—he fucks you like he hates you.
And he’s only growing faster, harder by the second.
Only tightening his headlock and wrenching your body back into his. Again and again.
Over and over.
Until the globes of your ass were stinging with impact, and you’ve memorized the pattern of his happy trail. It’s practically a part of you.
Sukuna’s rugged cock knew aaaaall the right spots. Making your pupils roll around in the whites of your eyes, and leaving you wondering just how he had this much stamina still…“Awww, c’mon now.” His low voice trundles in your ears. “Get your act together, girl. You don’t wanna be this cockdrunk for someone so old, huh?”
“I-I—”
“What was it you called me?” He growls, sharp canines nipping at the shells of your ears. “Huh? What was it you called me? See, this fossil ‘ere has some trouble…remembering-”
Every syllable of his was punctured by a thorough glide across the velvety channel of your pussy- “Ummm, then in that case, I didn’t say anything?” You try your luck.
“Nice try.” Sukuna grins. “But m’not that geriatric yet.”
Another spank. “Please-”
“What did you call me?”
“I-I just meant-”
And another. “What did you call me?”
“An…old man.” You feel embarrassed just letting the words slip between your lips.
You didn’t think he could get even rougher with his movements - his shaft was throbbing, and his pelvis was smack-smack-smacking into you. So hard that you’re propelled forwards by the sheer force; and Sukuna roughly lurches you back with his headlock. “I might be an old man- cheh. I might not know all these…damn Internet memes- but I do know how to fuck this pussy right.” To prove his point, he scours in-between your pussylips to squeeze your pretty clit. “Look at her- she’s in love with me.”
“O-oh—” Eyes fluttering shut.
“I know how to make her cry with pleasure. I know how to make her- mmmngh, squeeze like she doesn’t want me leavin’…heh.” He continues muttering into your ear as his hips grow more fervent. “I know how to make her feel so good—”
Your teeth grit. “Shit.” And you recognize the twisting sensation at the pit of your stomach. “K-Kuna, I’m gonna cum-”
“And even better.” He chuckles. Gnawing at the top of your ear shell, before moving down to bite the tender crook of your neck - like a wolf catching his prey. “I might not know those fuckin’- memes like the youngsters do. But I do know how to make this pussy- cum.”
“S-sooo close—don’t stop.” You’re bouncing n’ bouncing back into his pistoning hips.
Feeling the pleasure well up. Feeling your head start to spin a little as you near your high-
You’re crashing past your tipping point. And Sukuna gives you one, two, three good strokes to fuck you through the bursts of white-hot pleasure running through your veins - before he’s suddenly setting you free of his headlock and letting you drop straight into the plush pillows.
Reeling his damn cock out.
You don’t know what’s louder: your disappointed groan or his rough cackle.
“What? Wanted this old man to be nice in bed or something?” As soon as you’re looking over your shoulder, you’re met with Sukuna’s priggish grin—his sharp canines peaking out at the edges of his lower lip.
Grumpily, you nod. “Yes? What- can’t last or—oh.”
Another smack. “That’s not gonna work on me again- sorry, babydoll.” And before you know it, you’re being flipped right over - getting your legs thrown over his shoulders and pushed into the meanest mating press you’ve ever experienced. “Because m’not letting my bratty girl properly cum until I’ve had a good few rounds to blow off some steam. And m’sure you can keep up- heh, if not…”
“And um- how many rounds might that be exactly?”
Sukuna smirks. “67.”
“I hate you.”
♡ INO TAKUMA - “M-mommy!”
AITA for seducing the HOT rich MILF (40’sF) that I (23M) pool-clean for while her ex-husband and kids were away?! In my defense, she’s reeeeeally hot.
You freeze.
Ino freezes.
The world itself seems to freeze; all except for the ruby-red tip of Ino Takuma’s cock. Shoved deeeep inside your cunt - deep enough to leave a permanent bruise there - and throbbing away wildly—he’s cumming with that particular title escaping his lips.
And then his lower lip wobbles once- twice- before he ducks down and attempts to hide his face in his arms.
“Hey hey-” Swiftly, you reach down to push his hands away - you’d be disappointed not to see his pretty expressions as you fucked him even further. All pouty lips and doe-like eyes—Ino Takuma was so pretty, and perhaps that’s what drew you to the younger pool cleaner in the first place. “What’s the matter, Taku?”
“I-I didn’t mean to call you that- honest!” He stammers out.
To which you’re cocking your head with a sly smile- time to try something. “Call me what, Taku?”
“Y’know what it is…” Ino grumbles, huffing. And when you simply continue to stare at him in slight confusion, he’s rockin’ up into your wet cunt as he speaks- “The way I c-called you—mommy- oh.” Just as you’d predicted, his velvety length jolts at the mere utterance of that title. Excitedly spurting out a few creamy-white wads of cum that glue to your cervix.
So messy. He was so fucking messy.
How ironic, considering that his entire job was to clean your pool.
You’d been introduced to Ino through one of your friends - those networks of older rich women with far too much time and money on their hands. Juggling kids and businesses. And you’d just been complaining to them over a gold-flaked brunch that your last pool cleaner had moved towns, and with your kids now entering middle school, the pool was left without use and starting to gather leaves.
That’s when they’d shared Ino’s number with you—a reliable pool cleaner. Just graduated college, and so easy on the eyes if they did say so themselves…
You’d huffed that you’d tell their husbands- meanwhile you on the other hand had just recently gotten divorced. One too many nights of your husband coming home with a cloud of mysterious perfume around him, or a lipstick stain on his collar - at least you’d gotten a good chunk of everything in the divorce!
But that was all in the past- maybe love just wasn’t for you.
You had your kids. You had your gorgeous hillside mansion. You had your hobbies and friends- men just weren’t…for…
Fuck, that’s when he’d showed up at your door.
Bright and early. Beaming with all his gorgeous pearly whites; the sweetest smile on such a killer body. Ino showed up in nothing but an unbuttoned flowery shirt and swim trunks—their lightning-yellow color perfectly complemented his slightly-tanned skin and messy brown hair. Slightly tawny from the Sun.
“Er, I hope you don’t mind.” Ino had said, a sheepish smile on his face. “I thought I’d get changed for the job before I got here.”
Mind? Mind?!
In simply what world would you mind—it took every speck of reason and rationality in you to dart your eyes away from the plane of his chest, his washboard abs. Sultry shoulders. Slender waist. There was a scattered happy trail that ran between his six-pack and- beneath his swimming trunks.
Fuck.
Instead, you focused on the tight necklace of shells around Ino’s throat. “C-come in.”
On the first day, you stayed inside - only peeking out occasionally from your bedroom window - as Ino cleaned your pool. You tipped him heavily.
On the second day, he’d told you that it was completely okay with him even if you used the pool whilst he was cleaning—and you took that as your sign. You donned a bikini you hadn’t gotten the chance to use in years, and sprawled yourself out on the nearest sun bed - making occasional conversation with him almost as an excuse to ogle him.
And if you weren’t mistaken, you’d say that he ogled you too.
But you really did discover that Ino was a sweetheart- and made you giggle like a schoolgirl, too. How embarrassing you felt admitting this!
And a part of you was almost relieved when your kids arrived home from school - escorted by their driver - so you could resume your mundane lavishness. But a bigger part of you was already yearning for when you’d see him again…
And so continued the third day.
And the fourth day.
And so on to the fifth and the sixth.
Before you knew it, Ino had been employed as your pool-cleaner for at least a month—and he’d quickly grown to become someone you and your kids were quite fond of. Even your driver had caught on, and shot you a knowing smile every time you asked him to escort Ino back to his downtown apartment. Perhaps feeling jealous of such an occurrence, your ex-husband had showed up with tickets to an amusement park - already having planned a day trip for your kids.
They’d, of course, begged to go. And so you’d agreed.
Leaving nobody inside this vast mansion: but you, Ino, and the growing tension between you two.
The only thing was, right before he left, your ex-husband had the audacity to stop Ino and snipe at him. Low and threatening. “Touch her and I’ll make you very, very sorry.”
So, of course you’d fucked Ino as soon as they were out of the house.
Squeezing your robe-covered thighs ‘round his waist—just so perfectly curved to meet your embrace. “W-we really shouldn’t be…I mean- I’m old enough to be your-”
“Works just fine for me, pretty.” He’d cut you off. Pulling on the gauzy material of your robe to let your tits spill out- fuck, he was in heaven.
Enough so that it’d taken just putting it in for Ino to cover your luscious inside in his sap. To watch the satiny liquid seep between your pussylips and leave his pelvis gleaming with a sheen. To wrench out the most pathetic calls of your name—and one particular title that made him want to get swallowed up by the Earth.
Again and again.
Ino’s cock was longer than you’d expected - and all this time, you’d been wondering where the hell he’d been hiding all that in his swimming trunks. Just reaching over six pretty inches. Just smooooth and leaned ever-so-slightly towards the left. It’s making his bulbous tip drag across every sweet spot inside you, and your thighs quiver as you take him.
Every single inch. You’re arching your back and mustering up your strength to grind your hips forwards and back, forwards and back.
Milking him—
“C’mon, baby.” You’re cooing down at the handsome man. He blinks his teary eyes open- and you just can’t help but lean down n’ kiss them away from his cheeks. “Call me ‘mommy’ again?”
“C-can’t…” Ino blushes down to the roots of his chocolate-brown hair. “It’s embarrassing-”
“But it gets me so wet, Taku.” You pout—and his eyes widen at your admission. You watch as his pupils shift down- as if making sure. “Pleeeeeeeease? Just once?”
And in response, you smush your thighs harder around him. You’re sure you leave red, red welts on his skin - but that wasn’t registering in his mind right now. Nothing was. Nothing but the smooch of your soft velvety insides embracing his cock, and the sensation of cum sploshin’ around inside you. “Fine…but only because I wanna impress you…” His breath hitches. “-mommy.”
You shiver. “Oh, I liked that—”
And he does, too, because your cunt’s just suctioning on his length as if you were trying to take his soul. His fucking soul.
The thing is- Ino would have gladly given it to you at this moment.
“It feels good- it f-feels s-sooooo good.” Tears begin to crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and Ino’s fingers dig into the sides of your hips as he bucks upwards. “Fuck, it should be illegal for it to feel this good- mommy.” And he can’t fucking help it—it echoes before he can stop himself.
“Taku, I think you like saying that more than me.” With a soft chuckle, your dominant hand ends up wrapped around his throat. “C’mon now- a little faster for mommy.”
“Sh-shut—ngh.” No matter how hard he attempts to regain control- it doesn’t work. He pushes upwards into your soft, syrupy cervix as though marking it.
After a few desperate thrusts, he asks you- “Is this okay?”
“Hmmmm…” You pretend to think - and the ruined expression on his face is oh-so-completely worth it. “How about a biiiiit faster?”
His jaw drops- but he doesn’t complain. He’s grabbing onto either side of your thighs now, and plunging straight into your deepest depths—multiple thwacks! every second, it feels like. “H-how about-”
“Just a little faster.”
Doubting himself. “Is that even possible-”
“But you’d do it for- heh, me won’t you? You’d do it to make me feel good?”
Nodding and nodding. “Yes, mommy. A-anything for you mommy—” Broken moans and pleas cycle at the back of Ino’s throat, and he’s planted his feet flat on the mattress to push himself up ravenously. “M’just here for you to use me.”
Your eyes widen - your smile grows.
“Just use me-” He gasps, face reddening as he follows your instructions. “Fucking use me like a toy. Use me- fuh-fuuuck—”
“A liiiiiittle bit—” Your head tips backwards as he’s entering the perfect pace - rapid enough to leave your thoughts stupidly muddled, but still steady enough that you’re feeling every single ridge, vein, and curve. Giving your walls such a good massage—“Th-that’s perfect, Taku.” You squeeze his pretty neck tighter, and you’re hearing him let out a little hiccup of a sob. “Mommy’s so proud of you.”
Oh, and you thought that he was ruined enough already?
You thought that he was reaching his limits?
Because after that particular sentence - oh, you’re evil for that - Ino digs his digits into the flesh of your thighs and rams deep into your womb. His pistoning cock resting there for a brief few split-seconds as he sputters—“L-let me make you a mommy all over again.”
Your breath catches. “Do you even know what you’re asking for, Taku-”
“Fucking yes.” His glazed tip twitches dangerously in a way that told you he was oh-so-close to cumming again. Again. “Yes, please- fuuuuck, let me get you pregnant. Let me make you a mommy for the third time. I-I promise I’ll be the best- ngh, dad and nothing like that asshole. I’ll take care of you and cherish you and-”
You kiss him to shut him up.
“But of course, baby.” You hum. “But you have to be quick before my ex-husband finds out.”
He’s never cum harder in his life.
Verdict: NTA (drop the fucking tutorial, OP).
♡ GOJO SATORU - Sugar, sugar…
Gojo Satoru wasn’t technically a DILF - but he was a sugar daddy.
And they called you a gold digger.
Gojo called you business-savvy.
It was a rather unique situation: the relationship between the two of you had started out as a regular sugar daddy-sugar baby relation. You met Gojo Satoru at some stuffy ol’ business function when you were the arm candy of some other businessman—one who’d been ignoring you in favor of one of his business associates the entire night, of course.
Whatever.
You’d gotten used to this routine by now - and so you’d drifted by the grazing table with microscopic clean cuts and cheeses you couldn’t even pronounce.
And that was exactly how your knight-in-shining-suit had sidled up next to you.
With two champagne glasses in-hand and a flirtatious smile upon his face, he handed you one of the drinks. Then you gestured at the businessmen you’d arrived with- and Gojo had the audacity to roll his eyes and pretend to retch. That was when you knew you’d get along.
Tall. Toned. With twinkling blue eyes—and just the slightest bit of silver creeping into his already-white hair. Gojo Satoru was as handsome as he was rich—and considering that both aspects occupied a fair share of the conversations tonight, you were rather flattered to be in his presence. Though the CEO of Gojo Corporations didn’t waste time: “Y’know, if I was lucky enough to arrive with an angel- I’d never leave her sight. Why waste time with some geezers over such a gorgeous gal?”
You smiled.
And you left that night with Gojo instead.
From the boxes of jewelries and flights around the world - to the tabloids and online speculation that couldn’t get enough of you.
CEO of Gojo Corporations finally finds love?!
Gold digger or gold-hearted: All we know about Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend!
Is it sugar baby season? The newest IT Girl’s best red-carpet looks so far—
But of course, there was always some truth to those headlines. Perhaps.
You were Gojo Satoru’s sugar baby. You were in a transactional relationship- though he never laid a hand on you. Not unless you initiated it.
So…what was it really?
You got your answer a few months into this limbo of lust—the two of you finally started dating.
And to be quite honest; it wasn’t that big of a change at first. The two of you went out for romantic dinners either way. The two of you dodged paparazzi and rumors every step. The two of you bantered and teased as much as you did anyways- the only change would be that Gojo Satoru finally let loose when he fucked you.
Though, at times, he still did like to let his sugar daddy side peek through…
“A-awwww- just look at you.” Gojo’s hands were rubbin’ furiously down his length - from those curls of white cozily decorating his base, up to that poor, pretty tip that just wouldn’t stop cumming. Up and down. Up and down.
Salty-sweet heaps of cum were pouring out of his cockhead and splashing down your front- your stomach, your inner thighs, your cunt. He watches as it creates a little waterfall effect—and Gojo reaches down to pat your stuffed pussy with his long fingers. “No matter what pretty trinkets n’ expensive lingerie you wear- you always look the prettiest covered in my cum, sweetheart.”
“S-Satoru—” You’re squirming underneath him. Hands clasping the silken sheets.
Your fingers were decked-out in diamond rings. Your lacy lingerie was tugged n’ pulled aside for access.
Around you were bracelets upon necklaces upon every piece of jewelry that your heart could desire - Gojo had taken it upon himself to empty out Tokyo’s luxury stores earlier. All for you, of course.
All to drown you in—whilst he attempted to do the same with his fucking cum-
“I fuckin’ loooooove it when it covers you like this.” He hisses- nose scrunches in a feral way as he glides his fingers across those splatters. Those smears. That ruinous mess. His favorite was to see you like this: pull out game, who? You often scoffed whenever Gojo claimed that his was unmatched. “Love the way it looks like your pretty pussy can’t keep it in-” Just another light tap on your cunt. “Love the way it looks so pretty on your skin like this—mmm, you’ve got me obsessed, girl.”
Your thighs were shaky- but not shaky enough to stop you from attempting to pull him even closer. They’re wrapping around his waist, and careening him close ‘nough to kiss your puffy pussylips with his throbbing tip. His length doesn’t stop sensitively twitching for a single second—“O-oh…greedy for more, my girl?”
“More.” Just barely managing to wrangle out. “W-want some more—”
“Fuuuuck.” He whispers underneath his breath - something so ragged in his tone. That blushin’ tip of his was twitching in excitement already, and Gojo probably doesn’t even realize before he’s slotted his still-erect length between your legs and his rockin’ away at a slow pace. “You seriously want more?”
Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation of him intruding your hole- seemingly only growing bigger every time he feels you clenchin’ around nothing. So needy.
“Yes-” You’re nodding furiously. Perhaps had this been any other time, then you’d have been almost embarrassed at your unabashed eagerness. “B-but this time, I want it inside, Toru.”
“Inside?” Gojo’s pale brows fly to his hairline. “But you’re already stuffed so full, my sweetheart.”
And then he’s smearing his fingertips between your bloated folds- teasin’ them apart and taking a good look at your entrance. He can’t help himself - he’s spitting straight into that puckered hole—and watching at the glossy wad slips down your crevice and only adds to the mess he’s made previously. You’re shivering as he runs his nimble digits up n’ down your slit and presses on your clit.
“Yes, but—” You keen, arching into his firm core. “But you never really came inside, Toru.”
“Oh…” Those glossed lips of his part.
And you’re taking the opportunity to throw your arms weakly around him- “And I want it inside this time.” Though Gojo loved teasing you with his creamy-white sap—making you beg for it at times, he’s never properly cum inside.
He always thought it’d be too soon: you were younger, after all. And a pregnancy at this point might derail your plans-
“But I want it.” Had he been babbling this entire time? The sheer determination in your eyes sends a jolt of dark-black need through him - far more primal than he ever thought possible. Far more. Gojo’s blue peripherals glaze over as he clasps his cock even tighter, as though afraid he’s so hard now that it’d fucking fall off.
“Shouldn’t fall off now.” He whispers breathily.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Gojo quickly amends. Before he uses the pointed tip of his shaft to web up those dollops of cum he’d spurted ‘round your thighs and folds—it creates a gloss of white that he thinks would suit the insides of your pussy so well (did he mention that he was the one to pick out your lingerie colors?) ‘Round and ‘round.
It devises the most sinful sounds between your legs. And your breath catches in your throat: “A-are you gonna cum inside or not, Toru? Hurry-”
“So impatient.” He’s tutting. Voice low and husky. “I hope you know that if I fuck my cum inside—then m’gonna fuck you pregnant, sweetheart.”
Goosebumps scatter across your skin.
But Gojo doesn’t let you squirm, he doesn’t let you move about restlessly- he’s pinning you down with his hips and rumbling lowly in your ear. “M’gonna make sure it takes.” A rough sliiiiiide of his length sandwiched between your cushy pussylips - drooling for him by now. “M’gonna stuff you so full that you won’t even be able to walk—” Another rough slide. A thrust. “M’gonna give you the most precious gift of all - in my eyes.”
“P-please—!”
As you’re letting your head tip backwards, Gojo reaches his hand up to and clasps your gorgeous, gorgeous face. Smushing your cheeks together in a way that was so pathetic - “Are you okay with that, pretty baby?”
You’ve never heard him sound so serious.
And you’ve never yowled an affirmation faster in your entire life—
In the next few seconds, Gojo’s stuffed rawly all the way to the hilt and is messin’ up your insides with determined strokes. Once. Twice. Thrice- he punctures through your clingy walls and hits all the best spots - memorizing your g-spot and running his flared tip along it.
And honestly, it doesn’t take much - the two of you were already so overstimulated already - before you’re feeling the wave of euphoria start to build up in your stomach already. Almost as lewd of a sensation as the clear twitchin’ mess that Gojo and his length had turned into—babbling, gasping, sobbing as he runs his fat cock raw on your velvety walls. Fucking raw.
You were going to make him an actual DILF.
“Y-you’re gonna get it now…” It’s the last thing he’s getting out before a flood of white sap enters your tight cunt. Getting absolutely drenched from the inside. “When have I ever forgone you of a gift, my girl?”
“Never—” You’re keening out. Rushes of pleasure start up between your legs- before crackling through your veins and ultimately ending up at your brain.
Hazy and startling at the feeling of him fucking you through both your highs. Thrust after thrust. Gush after gush of both pleasure n’ his milky-white cum.
Underneath the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm; you can feel his spurts of cum start to trickle between your legs. It was just as warm as your skin was getting, and creating a little puddle beneath you that Gojo takes one looks at and gasps-
“Now now, are you wasting your gift, sweetheart—?” He cocks his head, genuinely ruined.
“N-no?”
“Or do I just have to- heh, regift it to you again?”
“Shut up.”
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Ms. Babysitter.
“We have to be quiet, angel- fuck. Fuck.” Higuruma’s voice sounded ragged—
Ruined. Nothing but carnal desire creeping up into the edges of his tone; giving you a jolt, considering that you’ve known the older man to be nothing but utterly calm and collected.
He was one of the best parents that you babysat for.
One of your college friends had recommended you for the job - the hot lawyer in your neighborhood needed someone to look after his young daughter whilst he worked long nights? You were agreeing before you’d even heard the hours, you can’t deny—and despite how hasty of a decision it had been, you thoroughly enjoyed working under Higuruma Hiromi.
And being under Higuruma Hiromi…though that didn’t come until a few weeks after you’d been employed.
The first night, you’d barely seen him. Dark hair. Dark circles.
The main thing you remember was that he looked exhausted—and some strange part of you was actually enticed by the hard-working man. Especially when he was such a gentleman…
Fuck, that suit fit him so well.
He addressed you oh-so-respectfully; unlike some parents who were tempted to treat you like a live-in server. Hands behind his back. Jet-black eyes to himself as he gave you a two-minute tour around the house- you’d been thoroughly enjoying yourself admiring his broad shoulders in that suit, when a sudden call from the office meant your tour had to be paused.
Higuruma had pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. He’d sighed.
And he was out that door before you could even confirm bedtime- which hadn’t been too much of a problem, to be honest. His daughter was extremely well-behaved and didn’t hesitate to let you know.
She also didn’t hesitate to let you know that her dad was very, very single.
You let her stay up just a liiittle past her bedtime.
And then the second night, he’d apologized for his hastiness - telling you that a recent case had them fighting to prepare before the court deadline, and there’d just been so many fucking tax audits to go through.
You nodded like you understood. But what really intrigued you was when he’d told you that his daughter had just loved having you over. Though a part of you was simply satisfied that you did your job well (buttered popcorn and K-pop Demon Hunters wins again!), you can’t deny that it made your heart…flutter hearing it from the older man like this.
It made you realize that you had a little crush.
So of course, you made him a regular.
And the pay was so good that you were able to weed out your other clients to focus predominantly on Higuruma and his bizarre babysitting schedule (some nights he worked until 3AM…)—you guessed the overtime was paying off.
Though your interactions were limited mostly to the brief conversations before and after- though you never did cross your boundaries. That all came to a head when one night - about a month or two into your babysitting gig - Higuruma suddenly perked up after a late night at the office. It was 3:31AM when he quietly let himself inside the house, sighing as he finally tugged off his tie.
It was 3:32AM by the time you got up off the couch and offered him some cookies you’d made with his daughter in the morning.
3:40AM when he suddenly remembered- and suggested resuming that house tour you didn’t get to finish. And though you’d been a bit hesitant—for nothing other than the fact that you might wake his sleeping daughter up, he promised that the two of you would be quiet.
Then, finally, 3:47AM when he was telling you to be quiet in bed-
“Wouldn’t wanna wake her up, hm?” The prominent outline of his nose runs down the side of your throat - and it makes you shiver. Fuck, you always have thought that that was one of the most handsome parts of him.
A soft moan strangles in your throat as he slots his thickened tip between your folds—feeling it like this, your mind’s reeling with the question of how the fuck he’s going to fit like this.
Higuruma always did strike you as the type of man to be big; but this was enough to make your mouth water and your eyes damn-near bulge out of your skull. From here, you were feeling at least seven or eight inches of his erection, furiously hot, wrapped in throbbing red veins and having the most luscious precum dripping out from top. He seemed hard enough to fucking ruin you - just how you wanted it.
And as if reading your mind, Higuruma runs his slippery wet tip down your pussylips, and trundles in his low tone. “Are you sure you want to do it? We don’t have to rush into anything if you don’t want-”
“I do.” Cutting him off mid-sentence.
Although by the way that Higuruma’s stern lips were quirking up ever-so-slightly—you’re taking it to mean that he didn’t exactly mind. He keeps one hand underneath your ass, so that you can be pushed up into his roverin’ hips, and his other one caresses your cheek softly. “Hm, is that so…? Then I guess what I meant to say is…can you take every single inch, sugar?”
You gulp. Your eyes dart down nervously to his twitchin’, throbbing length. “Yes.”
And you’ve never been more sure of anything.
Higuruma merely horses out - “Then buckle up, angel.”
Before you know it, his round, ruddied tip is probin’ inside. Sifting your gluey walls from side-to-side before spreading you up so maddeningly open.
He spots your sweet areas with a few dollops of pre- as soon as Higuruma found himself inside you, he was fighting back whimpers of pleasure. The older man’s achin’ cock doing all the talking for him as he shovels his way in—
“Sh-shit.” Your eyes sprint to the back of your head as you take him. “Shit, you’re so big-”
The way you’re moving your hips around as though confused whether to buck right down or make him ease up- it’s just so cute. And he plants a reassuring hand on the side of your waist, “Easy now.” Higuruma hushes out, “Eeeeeeasy, angel. You can take it for me.”
“Right there—” You keen out as his flared tip rubs along your g-spot.
And although he knows what you meant, that doesn’t stop Higuruma from throwing you a ravishing smirk. Letting his second hand run down your core- “No, sugar. Right here.” He pushes down right where he knew your womb would be - that soft pressure making your walls clench around him wildly, until you could feel every throb of his engorged tip even in your brain. “And you’re gonna take it f’me, right?”
Jostling you hard with every thrust—so that you’re nodding away. Almost pathetically.
“Mhm…exactly what I thought.” He coos - so lovingly thrusting away between your quiverin’ legs. Higuruma’s skin slap-slap-slaps against yours at a steady pace, “Just a few more inches now—keep quiet, please.”
“I’m t-trying.” Gnawing down on your lower lip. “How many more?”
“Ah, just one inch…two…” And after a prolonged thrust- so deep that you swear you’re feeling it in your throat, Higuruma cracks a grin. “Maybe more.”
Five more?
Five more?
And you were already on the verge of being fucked absolutely stupid? You’re letting a groan escape you—lewd and louder than you intended- and before the realization hits you, Higuruma himself swiftly reaches over to where his work tie had been dangling off the side of the bed. Bunching it up, shoving it between those pretty lips - he couldn’t have anyone waking up now, could he?
And that’s exactly what he’s telling you: “C’mon, angel…” Shoves getting deeper and longer. Rougher- as he rams his thickened inches past where you don’t think anyone’s ever gone before. And throughout it all, the older man was so steady with you—“C’mon- c’mon. You can do this—fuuuuuck, you can do this. This pussy’s gonna take all of me, right?”
Nodding and nodding.
“Yeah? Because you’re my goooood girl, right? Taking me so well.” He continues rasping - tone pitching higher and higher as he goes on. “My good- fucking- girl—”
“O-oh, fuck, fuck, fuck-”
“You’re my goooooood fucking girl, huh?” The stubs of his five o’ clock shadow rub up against your skin. The deeper he thrusts, the hotter his body seems to become on top of yours. More and more. “Can you count how many inches m’putting in you?”
Tears flow down your eyes, “Y-yes- mmpf.” Somehow managing past the tie. “Ah- four? Five. Six.”
Higuruma’s eyes widen.
“Seven—” Your voice seems like it’s on the verge of cracking. “Eight.”
It’s just too adorable how you’re sweetly attempting to respond to him even with the gag in. And Higuruma can’t help himself as he leans in and kisses you through the tie.
It’s hot and it’s messy.
And it ends up with him smiling against your stuffed lips, “Finally bottomed-out.”
Hazily, you’re blinking a few times. It clears your vision enough for you to jerk your head down and see that it was indeed true, Higuruma had stuffed himself inside your pussy until his thick base was kissin’ your pussylips. Just the most innocent peck.
“And now…” Except…fuck, except he was reeling right back again. “-for the fun part.”
Right back until that rounded tip stretched your hole out.
Right back inside-
“Makes me wanna put a baby in you- I swear. Taking me like this.”
sukuna's convinced he'll never find a mate. he's tried it all, mate pairing programs, rehabilitation. no one wants him. who needs a bond anyway? he prefers the solitude. you're his last hope. an optimistic volunteer thrown at him by that pesky support program in hopes that he'll finally find a mate. will you be the one to show him that he doesn't really wanna be lonely? or will you throw him to the curb like everyone else? well, his rough exterior and unexpected rut truly puts you to the test.
♡ ﹕ 8.6k words
♡ ﹕ this was commissioned by @lycanqueen
꒰ 🍓 ⸰ ✦ 𝓒ws. hybrid au :: human!reader :: smut :: hurt/comfort :: mean!sukuna :: sweet!reader :: possessiveness :: pining :: hybrid ruts :: scenting :: marking :: oral ( f.receiving ) :: face-sitting :: p in v :: rough sex :: mating press :: multiple orgasms :: emotional sex :: overstimulation :: choking :: breeding :: talks of cubs :: creampie ꒱
"Maybe they were right about you. You are a lost cause."
So this rehabilitation agent had guts? Sukuna would give him that much.
The sun pierced his eyes and slitted his pupils as he stared at the man before him, unshaken. Bold, for someone with noting but a flimsy clipboard for a weapon if Sukuna let his temper get the better of him.
He never had an issue with it before. So where were his claws?
"That mean I can finally do my own damn thing now?" He gruffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he propped against his doorway. He ignored his tail that hung low.
The man furrowed his brows. Sucked in a breath. Looked like he was searching for patience in the late afternoon air. His hand with the clipboard dropped as he stood straight.
"You don't get it, do you Ryomen?"
"What's there to get? That I can't play housecat for your domesticity programs?"
"Behavioural programs."
"That've made shit progress."
"It's not as if you make it any easier."
"Your potential mates bore me."
"You scared them off. Every one of them."
The man didn't need to match Sukuna's tone to scathe him. His face never broke clinical aloofness, even with each word loaded. Baggage of the ugly truth: that Ryomen Sukuna was a lost cause.
Countless mates. Five? Six? He lost track. He pretended to forget their names but he remembered every one.
The first left quietly. Said he was too loud.
The second left loudly. Said he was too quiet.
The third claimed she was frightened. The fourth didn't even give him a reason. Fifth and sixth were some ugly variation of all of the above.
Sukuna stopped caring.
He did care, at one point. That's why he let his coworker convince him to join this stupid 'hybrid nature rehabilitation program' in the first place, right? Because maybe tigers were too bold. Too frightening. Too much.
Too much. That's what the last one said.
Well, if he was too much for anyone, maybe they weren't enough for him.
The agent sighed. Pinching the bridge of his nose and probably contemplating why he chose to work for a facility that boasted a 100% rehabilitation record. Guess Sukuna was about to ruin that too. As he did most things.
"Look," the man said. His shoulders slumped. "We do not typically give up on our patients, but surely you understand that we've tried everything in the book for you, right?"
Sukuna didn't reply.
"Behavioural therapy. Group counselling. Mate pairings and courses. You've chased away every volunteer and potential mate. Somehow even frightened off your therapist last month."
"She was weak."
"She was doing her job. You act like. . ."
Sukuna grunted. His claws threatening to lash out and tear up his own shirt. "What?" He knew the answer. Knew that sickening word that they all used for him. "An animal?"
The man didn't answer. Didn't have to. He sighed again and checked his clipboard. "This is your last shot for clearance."
"And if I don't pass?"
"You'll be escorted to a private facility."
Hybrids were monitored under lock and key by the state. Sukuna guessed he couldn't really blame them. They were different. Unpredictable.
Animals.
Sukuna regretted ever approaching the program in the first place. If he knew what he knew now— that he was simply built to be on his own, he would have swallowed the furball and bit his own tail. Lived out the rest of his life without the feeling of being watched.
Now, they knew he was unstable. Now, they considered him a threat. Guess his claws really were clipped.
"Thanks to your last stunt, none of the volunteers stepped up for this," the man said, flipping through his clipboard.
Sukuna huffed. "What's the point then? Just ship me off already." At least he'd get to be alone, then.
"Because miraculously, one of our assistants offered to help." The man looked up. "She's new. And your last shot." He handed over the clipboard with a small picture clipped at the top right.
That's the first time Sukuna saw you.
The second time he saw you, you smiled at him. Stupid move, really. For someone so small, so frail— so breakable.
"It's nice to meet you," he's sure you lied as you stuck out your hand. Chirpier than a bird hybrid. Bright eyed as a squirrel. Were they sure that you were human?
"Yeah. Hi." He gruffed, not reaching for your hand. It looked too gentle for him.
You dropped your arm to your side, still smiling, but softer. Before you trotted off to lug the rest of your belongings into his home.
He helped you, of course. Tiny thing like you probably would sprain her spine if she did it all by herself. Pathetic.
This was his last hope? They might as well cage him and ship him off already.
Within a week, he was sharing his space again. The few days of blissful solitude had come to an end. Now, there was a canvas in his living room. Pink body wash and products littered across his bathroom counter. Books from authors he couldn't even pronounce occupying his empty shelves.
You were sweeter than the three spoons of sugar you dumped in your strawberry tea every morning. Softer than the dinner rolls you insisted on making every Wednesday and Friday. Shy. Gentle.
Too gentle for someone like him.
In the beginning, Sukuna had watched you. Like a tiger stalked its prey. Scouring for the first sign of discomfort. A hint of fear. Even those who started off strong couldn't keep up the act for long. Not with him.
Which was what made it so odd.
You were timid, sure. But not afraid of him. Guess he'd give it some time.
Because that's simply his fate now, right? Watch a new volunteer skip into his lair and run off with their tail between their legs once he got too much. No one stayed. Not like they did with everyone else.
Others made hybrid bonding look easy. They'd join circles and find mates in the same week. Same night, even. Claiming it all as 'the right timing'. The right person.
Sukuna was a wrong person. Therefore, no right person would fit. Like an unwanted puzzle piece.
Not that he cared. He didn't need to fit in with anyone. If he was too much for any twisted jigsaw of companionship then he'd simply be the missing piece. A corner piece no one looked for. The one that made no difference to the puzzle. The one that no one needed.
He preferred being alone, anyway.
If this last ditch effort blew up in smoke, he guessed he'd have his wish. Whatever facility they'd stuff him into— at least he would be alone. It was better that way.
By himself, he didn't have to soften his tongue. By himself, he didn't have to pretend that he did not have stripes, claws and canines. Didn't have to soften himself for someone who wouldn't soften for him.
Didn't have to watch anyone leave when he became too much.
You didn't leave.
A week went by. Then two. Three, before he knew it. You rooted yourself into his floorboards like a flourishing flower and offered him the same sunny smile every morning.
"How'd you sleep, Sukuna?" You'd ask, as if you cared.
"Fine." He'd grumble from the coffee machine. The bitter stain on his tongue refused to ever let him return the question.
Why should he bother with someone who was going to sign him off anyway? Might as well show her what she was getting herself into. His poor behaviour and slacking social skills, as his therapist put it.
You never flinched. Humans sure were resilient.
But he was hybrid. And everyone knew that tigers were ruthless.
He wouldn't shroud his nature to make himself more palatable for you. For anyone, ever again.
It's odd. You actually tried.
You adapted your body clock to him. Sukuna woke up drearily early. To catch the dawn on his ears during his morning run. He supposed you started waking up shortly after him. Giving you enough time to ready breakfast for him when he stepped back through the door.
Eggs. Bacon. Any raw protein you could think of. You were unfortunately, a good cook.
"This isn't necessary," he said from the counter, but still wolfed down your perfectly fluffy scrambled eggs.
"Waking up early has its perks." You mused, sipping your tea. Probably strawberry. Or rose. He hated that he now knew your favourites.
You made his bed whenever he wasn't looking. He scolded you for it, the first few times. You insisted it was fine. That you liked cleaning up.
You tried to watch movies with him. Plopped beside him on the sofa and struck him your signature smile.
"Wanna watch something?" You asked, soft. Already dangling the remote. Sukuna couldn't help but compare the size of your hand to his.
He scoffed. "What? Some romcom?"
"Or horror." You bashed.
His instincts told him that a gentle soul like you wouldn't last ten seconds with a horror movie. Still, he indulged you. The last thing he wanted was to endure some stupid hybrid hallmark film.
A slasher flick. He didn't pay attention to the name. All he knew was that you quivered halfway through it and that stirred an urge in his gut.
Urge to what? Now that, he once again had no answers to.
It was warm. Low. The same way he felt when kids dropped their ice creams and mothers tripped in grocery stores. He couldn't name it. But he did drape his arm over the back of the couch. Not grazing your shoulders but, there.
You'd probably have nightmares tonight. Silly girl. Now he would be obligated to return the favour.
Because you did, a few nights ago. When he tossed and turned. Creased his sheets and slashed his blankets. Sukuna wasn't one to dream— but he did have nightmares.
About the darkness. About the cold. About a void that for some, unfathomable reason, unsettled him.
"It's okay, shh." Your voice reached out to him through the shadow. Light against the darkness.
"It's okay. I'm here. Wake up, please."
You were luck he hadn't broken your arm.
His grip was too tight. Claws too wretched. Not lucid enough to realise that he snatched your wrist when he had woken up.
"Get out." His voice rumbled. Eyes bloodshot and pupils tight. Sweat burned his forehead.
It must have not sounded like a threat, or maybe it was your stupid human resilience. You leaned over him. One knee on his bed and your hand ghosting his shoulder.
"You're freezing," you whispered.
He jerked from you. Rolled over onto his side and refused to allow himself to be vulnerable under your gentle gaze.
"I'm fine." He said.
You insisted. Are you sure? — Can I get you anything? — All the things that people said to catch you off guard and then left anyway.
"I said I'm fine."
His voice boomed, final. It was the first time he'd seen you flinch. He did not bother calling out for you as you shuffled out of the room. Assumed your bags would be packed by the morning. Your pink body wash nowhere to be seen on his counters and your books vanished from his shelves.
You didn't leave. Here you were, a few days later, with shaky knees and a horror movie. But insisting that you were enjoying it for his sake.
You never turned tail. Never backed down. Maybe it was more than human resilience. Maybe it was stubbornness.
That's the only thing that made sense to him. Why else hadn't you disappeared regardless of how much steam he'd blown at you? Especially when he was too much.
"Let's get one thing straight."
You had said something stupid one day in the kitchen. Something about being there for him. Some empty promise he had heard mixed and minced several different ways until it lost all meaning.
As if his mood was not sour enough.
Your back pressed into the fridge. His strong forearm shoved above your head. Sukuna's hulking body shadowed yours. Perhaps this was it. Where you finally became apart of that void that haunted his dreams.
"You and I. Are not. Compatible." His ears pinned back to his head. Tail coiled tight. Like his jaw and teeth that clenched.
Still, you held his stare. Even when it burned.
"Not a thing. Not. Possible." He spat. "So stop acting like you aren't just gonna sign me off so I can be caged up."
"I'm not—"
"I want you to."
He cut you off. Sharp as his heave as he craned closer. Close enough to smell your cherry shampoo— but not a hint of fear.
What was wrong with you?
"I want you to sign me off. So that we can stop pretending like any of this is gonna work and that I'm anything but better off alone."
The fridge rattled as he shoved himself off. He expected your knees to shake. Expected you to clamber out of the kitchen and stuff whatever you could into a suitcase for the night.
Instead, you watched him storm off. With those same, achingly gentle eyes.
Why were you so gentle?
Why did you stay?
Why did he find himself being gentler, too?
Of course, Sukuna didn't want to snap at you. You were simply the closest thing. The softest thing. His hands weren't built to cherish the tender.
Yet, tender were his hands, as they cooked for you. If you handled breakfast, it was only fair that dinner was his responsibility. Even if all he exchanged with you were grunts and gruffs, as long as you went to bed full, he was content.
Content? Odd. That wasn't a word in his vocabulary anymore.
His voice dangered tender's territory on nights you'd be out. Work, friends, whatever he never bothered listening to but for some reason found himself worrying over when the street lights switched on.
"Do you need a lift back?" He asked into the phone. Taking note to look uninterested, even if you couldn't see him.
"I should be fine, Sukuna." You chirped.
"You sure? It's almost midnight."
"I'm sure! What's the worst that could happen?"
To a sweet thing like you? A lot. More than he'd like to imagine.
Morals, he told himself. He pulled up in the middle of the morning to pick you up because of his pesky morals.
"Sorry you had to come all this way," you said as you shut the passenger door.
Sukuna considered your dress. Hated himself for it.
"What?" His tongue clicked. "Were you expecting to walk all the way back?"
"What's the worst that could—"
"A lot."
It wasn't like the other times. His voice raised, but didn't roar. His brows narrowed, but didn't glare.
The car ride was silent.
Your smile was sickening.
Cute.
He watched you closer. Not as a tiger stalked prey. Not anymore. He couldn't name this.
He refused to call it gentle.
Even when he carefully observed the way you fixed your hair every morning. How he noted which of your curves that the sun bounced odd of. The soft plush of your body and how your thighs moulded into the couch cushions, or rounded perfectly in your shorts.
Never had he been one to appreciate art— though he stood in front of your canvases and stared at your paint patterns. Swirls of green and blotches of warmth. Illustrations of nature: jungles and wild flowers.
It called to something within him. He assumed his hybrid traits. A tiger yearned for jungle, that was his home.
Home.
Sukuna didn't have a home.
He had a house. He had you. Had pink body wash on his counters and books he'd learnt the names of on his shelves. Had a warm meal every morning and a warmer bed you still insisted on making.
He had movie nights. A running partner. Someone who finally rooted her heels to the floorboards and blossomed in his walls. Stubborn as she was shy.
But not a home.
It was only a matter of time. Until he said something that finally was the thing. Until he'd wake up to your paintings missing, and your shampoo gone. He'd come home to no protein, but a sheet of paper:
I've signed you off. Good riddance.
You told him that you wouldn't, after he insisted it that night in the kitchen.
You padded to doorway of his room, picking at your sleeves with a petal-soft voice.
"All we have to do is clear you for rehabilitation," you said.
Not once did your eyes meet his.
"Then what? I can finally be alone?" He asked, incredulous.
You nodded.
It's what he wanted. What he claimed to want. So why was your agreement a sharp pang between his ribs?
That was then. He assumed your plans hadn't changed much. A silent agreement that if he behaved, you'd leave him be by the end of it all.
That's why he was gentler, he told himself.
Just trying to ensure his goals, he insisted.
For now, he would take care of you as you did him. Whether conscious or not. If it meant that when it was through, he'd get what was best for him.
Solitude.
But if solitude was what he wanted, why did he hate seeing you in others' company?
It was late. Emergency work call. He missed his afternoon cat nap and only scuffed down half of his breakfast.
The sun peeped at him from its sprawl across the horizon. Glaring into the back of his head as he stalked home. Burning him hotter. Hot.
He felt so. Fucking. Hot.
It wasn't even summer yet. Spring had only perked its preppy head. The blossoms bloomed. Their nectar tickled his nose. Couples gifted their flowers.
Sukuna hated spring.
He hoped you hadn't cooked dinner yet. That was his job. His responsibility.
But no, you were outside. Prattling to a neighbour.
All smiles and soft. Cupping your hands in front of you as you listened to the man's stories. The irritable snow leopard that lived next door. With his baby blue eyes and boyish grin.
What were you even doing outside in the first place? Didn't he tell you it was dangerous once the street lights started switching on?
Sukuna did what he did best. He watched. Looming by the telephone wire. Feeling the sun stab into his head. His spine. Feeling the heat gurgle from his gut. Splutter up his lungs. Against the back of his teeth.
That spotted fucker touched your arm.
Sukuna scathed.
Blurred colours. A muffled yelp. His claw caught on your woolly sweater as he snatched your arm.
"Sukuna—!"
Your gasp drowned in the rumble of his growl. Grated from the back of his throat. The leopard backed off. Your muscles tensed under his calloused fingers.
"Inside. Now."
He didn't wait for you to agree nor disagree. Dragging you inside and rattling the walls as the door clattered! shut.
"Su—" he lodged your voice in your throat once more. Shoved your back into the nearest thing— the same splintering door.
Was it hotter inside? Or was that the anger?
A sweat drop sweltered between his brows.
"What the hell were you doing?" As if he had any right to ask. You weren't his mate.
Mate? Of course you weren't his mate.
Then why did his teeth crave to sink into your flesh? Mark you?
His stare hazed. Blinking rapidly. Heaving. The heat blistered into his nerves. Clenched his muscles. Suffocating. It was suffocating.
"Why were you. With him. Why—" he zeroed in. Mistake. Big mistake.
Your scent.
You weren't his mate. Why the hell did you smell like it, then?
Did you always smell this good?
Your gaped at him. Hands stiff on your sides and pressed flat into the wood. Your neck craned to account for the height difference. Were you watching him this time? Was he too much?
His eyes squeezed shut.
"Sukuna," you spoke. His name didn't deserve that gentleness. It ached him deeper today.
"I think you're. . ."
Snapping open his stare, he sucked in breath. Considered your words. The phrase your lips wrapped around.
Rut.
Shit.
He shoved himself away from the door. Away from you. The fire crawled up his throat. Thunked his heart. Thrummed a deep, dark chord in his gut.
The sweat slipping down his spine in the middle of spring confirmed it. He was in rut. With a poor, persistent, pretty human in claw's reach.
"Hey— hey it's okay," you attempted, stepping forward where he stumbled back.
"Don't."
He hissed.
You preserved.
Stubborn. Stubborn, sweet thing.
"Let me help." You offered.
"No."
He tried. Tried to stumble off. Lock himself in his room. He could hump the mattress for all he cared but he wasn't so much as touching—
You took him by the wrist. Might as well have taken his soul while you were at it.
Splintered his restraint.
The door rattled again. Creaked awfully with the weight of him. On you. The thickness of the air. The heat. Your wrists fit well in his big hands. Looked like they belonged there.
You looked like you belonged here. Pinned under him.
His chest heaved. Voice jagged, throaty.
"You don't know what you're getting into." He said.
You gulped. He paid too much attention to your throat. "I did when I signed up for this."
"Do you even know what a rut is?"
"I know you can't be alone right now."
Sukuna's breath hitched.
You relaxed your hips. Let them mould into his. Their plush softness drove him wild.
Lashes hung over deep maroons. The quiet thrummed with your heart beats. His, thundering and wanting. Yours, tender yet eager.
He craned closer. Tuffs of his pink hair tickled your forehead.
"I can do awful things to you." He whispered.
Still no flinches. You never did.
Your eyes batted at him.
"Is that so bad?"
"Yes."
"Show me."
Even the kiss, burned.
Your lips really were petal-soft. Softer than he had imagined. He hated himself for imagining this in the first place.
The knot in his gut wound tight. Urging him to flush you further into the wood. Flush further into you. Patience slipped into the simmer between your mouths. Sukuna kissed you with violence. Nothing contained. Nothing hidden.
He told you that he wouldn't placate himself for you.
Abandoning your wrists, his grip sought your plush. Squeezing your thighs between his fingers gaps. Lifting you into his arms so that your heels pressed into his back. So that he could consume you. Tongues tangling and teeth tackling.
Your hands smacked at his shoulder. Breaths huffed through your nose. A desperate sound that plunged him deeper into heat.
He let you breathe. Barely.
"I can be good for you." Was what you used the privilege to gasp.
His chest rumbled. "Yeah?"
The slope of your throat was so pretty when you gulped.
Sukuna slipped a hand to your cheek. Rough. He couldn't be gentle. Not with you. Not now.
"Gonna be good for me, pretty girl?"
Eyes blown out. Jaw tight. If you said anything other than your whined little yes as his hips ground into yours, he might have lost his mind entirely.
His mouth attacked yours again. Sucking on whatever was left of your lychee lipgloss. Surely bruising your lips in the process. He didn't care. Let him mark you. Everywhere. So that stupid snow leopards didn't get the wrong idea. So that everyone knew what you were.
His.
The home blurred into vertigo colours. The floors creaked under the weight of his footsteps. Sukuna hoisted you with him. Haphazardly avoiding furniture in the stagger to his bedroom. Hands palming at whatever part of your flesh he could reach.
He almost stumbled in the hallway. Caught you against the doorway, one of your hands gripped at it while the other clutched the back of his neck. Fisted his hair between your fingers.
"Sukuna, careful." You whined.
He didn't listen. Too busy humping on your thighs that squished perfectly between his hard body and the cold door. Nurturing his bulge. Tucking its hot curve into the smooth crux of your skin.
"Said you'd be good for me." His growl rumbled on your pulse. Teeth mapping out his new territory: your velvet flesh. "So shut up and take it. Like a good girl, yeah?"
The door swung open. You must have palmed the handle. Feet fumbled in a clumsy waltz. Hands clinging for dear life. He caught you. Kept you pressed against his blazing body as he mouthed down your throat. Latched onto a tender spot. Marked you.
Sukuna handled his ruts the way he handled everything else: alone. His hand, a pillow, and a grotesque amount of tissue boxes. When last had he felt the soft touch of a partner? Held their warmth beneath him while his mind drove him wild with fire?
He was always too much. Too much to handle. Too aggressive. Too big.
But you.
You seemed to want everything.
In the way your nails curled on his shirt. In the pitiful way your neck arched to give him more access. Offering yourself up to him. A pretty deer who craved a tiger's claws in her. His maw latched to your throat.
"You're so eager," he groaned.
You whimpered, "I'm yours."
Fuck.
The mattress sunk. Creaking in retort to the callousness of his shove. Your body moulded into his sheets. Into him, as he staggered over you. Knees digging into the bed. Teeth clamped on the base of your throat.
You jerked. A gasped cry vibrating against his teeth. Palms knocking into his shoulders. To push him off?
No— to grip. Cling. To him. To your mate.
After all, you were his now, weren't you?
Bites bloomed across your neck. Over your collarbone. Down your shoulders. Your clothes threading like ribbons under Sukuna's claws. The sound of fabric tearing accentuated the rough pants and pitched whines in the humid air.
He wanted to speak. Wanted to tell you what a good girl you were being for him. Wanted to grunt into your skin about how perfect you were. Tell you that you were everything he'd been waiting for.
The words lodged in his throat. Sticky on the back of his tongue that could only muster out wet pants and deep growls as he feasted on your flesh.
Every inch of your skin revealed to him was another blessing. Your curves. The dips. The soft slopes of your body. Salivated him all the more.
Your bra never stood a chance. Clawed away. Probably ruined at the wire. He didn't care. He'd buy you a new one. Buy you whatever you wanted if you were gonna carry his cubs.
Cubs.
The word slipped into his mind with ease, and ruined it.
Pupils blown out. Lungs clenching. He made the mistake of eyeing your tummy.
Perfect, round, soft. You'd be the perfect mate. The perfect mother for his young.
The thought spurred his hands rougher. Tearing away offensive fabrics until you were laid completely bare before him. With big, doe eyes batting up at him. So pretty. So his.
From the corner of his eye he spotted your hands slipping. To cover up. Cover what was his. Your wrists were snatched in his hard grip.
"Don't," he warned. Lips assaulting yours. Stealing your breath and tonguing on your whimpers.
"Don't hide what's mine."
Your tits were softer under his tastebuds. Delicate to the harsh swirls of his tongue. So small when compared to his mouth that sought to consume, to claim.
Sweet sounds sighed from your kiss-bitten lips. Your spine curved so that you pressed back into him. Squishing your plush breasts into his face. His groan rumbled into the flesh.
So tender it was maddening. So perfect it was addicting.
Kisses, sucks, bites. He littered your tits in more claims. Feasting on your silk flesh. Fantasising about the image of them larger. Fat and swollen with milk— just as you were round with his cubs.
His cock strained thick in his pants. Flushed hot on your inner thigh. He ground into your warmth. Rutting wildly. Like the animal he always was.
Your hands delving into his hair almost broke him. Almost. He withdrew from your chest. Eyes glowing through the dark as he found your face.
"Taste so good. So sweet." A hand roughed down your side. Cupped your thigh and strung it round his waist.
"Up."
Raw strength scooped you into his palms. Flesh spilling between the gaps of his fingers as he squeezed for good measure.
Your little squeaks were so cute.
Teeth dragged on your flesh. Callous over bites sunk into your gentle flesh. He lapped on the indents of his own canines as he wrest you over him. Shoved your thighs higher. Urging you. Demanding.
"Face. Now. Fucking sit on my face."
Senseless. Each word was a growl. It's a miracle you understood him at all. Maybe you always would. That's how mates were, right?
The cotton of your panties dragged on his collarbone. Frantic eyes darted to your face as your hips locked. Unmoving.
Stubborn little human.
"What?" He husked. Scuffling to shove you over his awaiting face. "I said sit."
Your lips pressed together. Hands scrambling for the headboard. "Wait are you— are you sure? I'm—"
"—driving me mad." He hissed through clenched teeth. The throbbing in his groin pulsed the sickening heat hotter. Seared into the back of his skull. To his hands that groped your ass. To his eyes that narrowed.
"Said I wanna taste you. So get. On."
Was that too much?
Was he too much for you?
No, course not. You wanted to be his good girl. He saw it in your doe eyes batting at him. In the quiver of your lip and the tremors of your thighs. You shuffled over him. Pressing the cusp of your panties against his chin.
"Like this?" You meeked.
"Like this."
Sukuna tugged you over him. Knocking your thighs. You stumbled. Caught yourself with shaky fingers in his hair and an adorable yelp.
The musked cotton scrunched into his nose, his mouth, the rest of his hard face. Stuffing his nostrils with the sweet, intoxicating aroma. His eyes threatened to roll back.
A muffled curse rumbled into your heat. First came his tongue. Abrasive like everything else about him. Lapping on your folds. Drenching the fabric. Trying to suck in your taste through it.
Then came his teeth. Impatient. Tearing into your panties. His head wrest, violent. Claws ripping away the cloth in a feral affair.
Your sweet heat was his reward. Slicking up his face with your clit pressed into his nose.
"Fuck," his groan thrummed. Straight into your velvet. Leaking your pussy into his agitated mouth. "Knew you'd taste s'fucking sweet."
Hands slipped up your thighs. Cupped your ass. Sukuna sought to press kisses to your quivering slit— but you dangled above him. Not pressed, not sat. Hovered.
"Said. Fucking sit."
He hauled you into him. Cramped your thighs into his head. Smothered your pussy into his face. Even with his ears muffled by your plush, he heard your stunned gasp.
The weight was perfect on his head. Your hands were perfect in his hair. Pussy pretty, pulsing, perfect, on his tongue that stroked over your slit. Lathered you in saliva. All the way to your clit.
He darted the muscle. Circled on your bud. Trying to commit to a rhythm. A pattern. It scathed into the heat of his rut. The heat to take, to claim. To make you his. Finally.
Even if you hated him after this.
Even if you signed him off and he finally got what he wanted. Solitude.
Right now, all he wanted was your pussy.
Filthy squirts and sloshes squelched through the room. Brimming the hazed air together with your whines. Moans. Gasps of his name.
He always hated how gently you said it. Like it meant something. Like it ever could mean something. Hearing it broken sounded better. Shaky and whimpered as he fucked you on his tongue.
"S-Suk— kuna, ah."
Sweet. So sweet. Sweeter than he ever deserved. But Sukuna was a greedy man. So he gripped on your thighs, bit his nails into your flesh, and feasted to his heart's content.
"There ya go. C'mon, pretty girl, ride my face."
Spank! went his hand. Clamouring your ass and fisting the jiggles. Pulling you down, harder, closer— till he was suffocating. Suckling on your clit. Guiding your hips into a sinful sway.
Your hips fell into rhythm. Atta girl. Always so sweet for him. Always so obedient. Yeah, if you stayed, you'd make the perfect mate.
He hoped you stayed.
He could make you stay.
Keep you in his bed. Make a den for you. Hold you down and fuck you into his sheets day-in-and-day-out. Fill you up until your tummy grew even rounder. Softer. Until you were swollen. Until you were his.
No. Fuck. That's the rut talking.
The rut talking.
It's the rut that had him palming your ass and squeezing you into his face. The rut that had his mouth kissing, sucking, licking and laving through your creamy mess. The rut that had him fucking you on his tongue and bucking his hip into the air just as yours ground down into his face. Smearing mess all over him.
Yeah. That's the rut. But fuck, if he wasn't drunk on your pathetic moans. Your messy pussy.
Your clit spasmed under the flat of his harassing tongue. Your thighs clamped around his head. Fingers dug into his skull. Even your pain was sweet.
"Shit— kuna." Your voice croaked. Called to him as a mate should. "I'm gonna, fuck. Think 'm gonna. . . gonna—"
His eyes fluttered. Throat rasped.
"Gonna cum? Yeah? Gonna cum, hah, all over my face?"
From between the small gap of your thigh, Sukuna witnessed your face. Eyes rolled back. Jaw slack. Tits bouncing as you rode his face as if he was yours.
He was.
In this moment. In these blurred lines of his rut. Where he pictured you as his mate. Entertained the thought of wanting. Of being wanted. Of not being alone.
He was yours. Even if for a moment.
You sung his name through the haze. Tender even when he ripped you apart at the seams. Delicate even in his claws that threatened to tear into you. Mark you with scars and blood.
Your hips clumsily rocked. Once—twice—locked up in feverish tremors. Your hands bunching his hair. Clinging. Your body hunched over his. Shattering.
Sukuna rode you through an orgasm with his lips latched around your clit. Sucking harsh on its throbs. Teething on its twitches.
You splattered his face in warmth. Sweet, sickening warmth that doused him deeper into his rut's clutches.
"That's it. There you go. Fuck. Prettiest fucking pussy," he slurred into your wetness. Tongue delving between your puffy folds. Lapping up your cum. Greedy.
You toppled over him. Breaths ragged. One hand clutched in his hair and the other on the headboard.
"Wanna— wanna help. Wanna." To his surprise you pulled on his hair. Interrupting his creamy kisses on your slit.
Stares met. His hot. Yours warm. Wanting.
"Wanna make you feel good too."
How pretty you were when you quivered. Lips glossed by drool and lashes soaked with tears. It ached a deep chamber in his heart.
"Wanna be good for me?" He panted.
Your nod was doeish. As everything else about you was. His delicate girl. So fragile in his hands.
He couldn't wait to break you.
The bed creaked again. You squeaked as he hauled you down into the wrinkled sheets. On your back with his hulking weight pressing down on you. His mouth fixed to yours. Magnetic. Addicted. Letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
"That mean you gonna let me breed you too, baby?" Catching your lip between his teeth, he grunted. Pressing the swell of his cock between your legs. Staining his crotch in your slick. "Gonna let me breed this sweet pussy?"
Your response was sweet, shy, but oh so eager. A tepid nod, as your fingers slipped to his shoulders. So small. Smaller than him in every way. He took the moment to appreciate it.
You, spread and waiting for him. Your pussy, swollen and twitching. His bulge pressed on your glistening folds dwarfed you entirely.
Oh, how you'd squirm on his cock.
At last he shrugged his shirt off. Shivered when your touch feathered over his chest. He made the mistake of watching your eyes. How they mapped out scars that your fingers traced.
You didn't have to say anything. Your gaze spelt affection he wasn't ready to receive.
"Don't stare at me like that." He gruffed, kicking off his pants.
"Why not?" You asked.
"Makes me think you want me."
"I do want you, kuna."
Damn you.
Damn you and your tenderness. Damn you and that sweet nickname your sugar lips latched onto. Damn you and the way you made his cock throb hard in the strained fabric of his boxers.
He palmed your throat. Focused on your pulse. The control he held over you in the moment.
"Shut up." His hiss muffled with a kiss. Hot and open-mouthed on yours. As if he could suck the words from your tongue and swallow them into his gut that knew better.
Knew that he was better off alone. That this was only for the sake of his rut.
Bulging and angry, his tip nudged between your thighs. Soaking up your arousal. The slippery sensation of your pussy sent shivers down his spine. So wet. For him. Only him.
He let you pull away. Watching as your gaze lowered to his thick cock sandwiched between your folds. Sliding against your slit and dragging on your clit. Your wide eyes eased a chuckle from him.
"What?" He drawled. "Too big?"
"Well. . . yes."
"And every inch's gonna fucking breed you."
He pinned you back into the mattress. Flat on your back with your knees scooped into his big hands. Dwarfed you there too. He pressed them back into you so that they kissed your tits. Folding you in half and completely exposing you entirely to his hungry eyes.
Salivating. He was salivating. Your eyes were too kind for how lewd your pussy spread out for him. Leaking a string of mess. Calling for him. Wanting him.
"Keep your eyes on me, you got that?" Maroon burned into yours. Searching for hesitance. For fear. For something that could cut into this feverish rut and remind him that he didn't deserve you. But no.
You obeyed him.
You wanted him.
His cockhead slotted against your slit. Dipping in to feel the silky sin of your pussy. A deep groan rumbled from the depths of his chest. His brows furrowed. Fuck. When last had he had this?
Blunt nails dug into the backs of your thighs as he sunk in. One inch. Two inch. Three inch. Four— popping through the first tight ring of resistance. Eyes devouring yours the entire time.
He watched your face. How it scrunched up and your mouth parted. How tears clouded your eyes as he pushed past the halfway point.
He stopped.
"You good?" He huffed. Barely gentle.
Very. Gentle.
"Yeah it's— just. . . just a lot." You croaked.
"Too much?"
His face didn't falter, but his heart sure did. His grip loosening on your limbs. Ready to let you go. Free you from him.
But you shook your head. Teary eyed. Twitching smile.
"Not enough."
Hips possessed. Mind a mess. He slammed forward at those two, pretty little words. Till his tip smooched your cervix and his balls squished into your folds. Bottomed out. Filling you to the brim.
The sound you made was sin itself. A blessing. Heaven, hell, and everything in between.
"Oh fuck." You cried, head tossed back. Unable to see him gasping out the same exclaim.
Your syrupy cunt hugged around him. Tight, snug. Nursing on an underside vein and milking him around the tip. Every pulse was your heartbeat, and it devastated him.
Cussing, he pushed down onto you. His heart tugging itself towards yours. To press into your skin as his hips started rutting. Slow, eager.
"Fuck. Look at you take this cock. Like you were born for it," his words husked above you.
Your lashes fluttered. Brows knitting at the centre. He watched your tears threaten to slip as he humped on the sensitive ring that was your cervix.
His tongue clicked. Swapping out a hand on your thigh, he snatched you beneath the jaw instead. Wrenching your face to his hot one.
"Didn't I say keep your eyes on me?"
"M sorry."
"Don't apologise, just take it."
He withdrew. Halfway at first— then shoved back in. The second time was further. And further. Until his thrusts pulled to the tip and plunged back to your womb. Languid, but hard. Sure to make you feel every inch of him pressing into your pussy nerves.
You soaked up his thighs. Splashing his balls and leaking a puddle into the sheets already. The scent was intoxicating. Flared his nostrils and dizzied his head.
The mattress shook beneath the power of his thrusts. Your body bounced with it. He made sure to coil his tail tight around your waist. Held you down like a predator did prey as he fucked you open on his cock.
Pleasure built a knot in his gut. Hot, heavy. Urging his hips to snap harder and chase bruises on your jiggling ass.
Every sound was sin. Sweet. Cries, moans, a whimper than surged into a whine of his name when he removed his other hand from your thigh to instead hold them back with a steeled forearm. So that his palm could press on the bulge swelling up the base of your tummy.
"Fuuckkk," he growled. Ears pinned back to his hair. Jaw hung and canines glinting. "Look at that. See that, pretty girl? What's here?"
You hiccuped, "your— ah. Your cock!"
"Yeah? What's it doing?"
"It's—"
You couldn't answer. Slurred by moans and the delicious drive of his dick stretching you out. He watched your eyes go static.
Spank! his palm landed hot on your clit. Bulging your eyes and jerking your hips up into his frantic thrusts. He laid another. Two. Three— encouraging your pitiful whimpers.
"Asked you a fucking question. What's it doing?"
"It's— hah. B. . . Breeed—"
"Breeding you? Yeah?"
"Uhuh! Breeding. Breeding me s-so . . . s'goood."
Drool bubbled on your lips. Your hands that had tried to scramble on his shoulders and dig your mark into his flesh now fell flat on the pillow. Beside your head. Limp like the rest of your body that surrendered itself to him.
Heat surged down his spine as you clamped around him. Sucking the air from his scathing lungs. Staining his base in a thick, filthy ring of cream.
His hips rammed all the more faster. Harder. Imprinting you into his bed. Your slick. Your sweat. Your scent.
One of your weak hands slipped down. Meeking over to his larger one fixed on your stomach. Wrapping around two of his massive fingers. Or at least trying to.
It strung a deep chord in him. Thin and vulnerable. One he has thought he cut out long ago.
His half slipped over yours. Fingers laced. Pressing you against the bulge he plunged into your tummy. Holding your hand. Holding it tight.
"Sweet pussy's milking me," his grunt fanned your pulse as he swooped down. Mouthing on your neck. Searching for your pulse to feel it race beneath his lips. "Fuck. Wants my cum so bad. Wants my cubs."
"Please!" You slurred.
He swore he could do this for life.
Shoving all the way, Sukuna paused on your cervix. Sweat dripping from his hair. Cock drumming heavy. He clamped you down through your protesting whines.
"Yeah, yeah, shut it." It didn't sound harsh. Especially not with his firm squeeze on your hand.
Slipping out just enough, he watched your juices spray all over him. Mesmerising him. He worked on autopilot. Bundling you into his arms and manhandling you into a different position.
Tossing you to your side, Sukuna slotted behind you. Hips spooning your ass. One strong arm hooked around your neck, choking you on his bicep. While the other strung around your thigh. Wrenching you open for him and his massive cock, that bullied back into your cunt. Squelching your cum and sick in messy streams.
Your angelic cries resonated into his bicep. Making him squeeze it harder against your throat. Headlocking you into his greedy mouth that sucked hickies across your neck.
The angle was deeper. Filthier. Letting him feel so much more of you.
How much smaller you were than him. How you squeezed him just right. How perfect you were in his arms.
Like you belonged.
Shit. Don't go there.
Sukuna tried to drown it out. The returning thought of you. A permanent fixture in his life. Your pink body wash on his counter, that was now his. Your books on his shelves that he could read to you. You, in his living room, painting.
Painting the jungle. Painting home. Being his home.
His cock pulsed hard at the base and sweltered at the tip. The knot in his stomach wound tight. But that thought— that thought gutted him.
That you were here. That you had been here. Warm, and sweet, and soft and for the last few weeks. His.
You could be his.
"No," he wanted it to sound like a grunt. But he whimpered. Panting, heaving, mind dizzy and thrusts frantic—
Sukuna was whimpering.
Your face was pressed into his bicep. Head limp and hand still trying to hold his that clutched your thigh. Still calling his name so sweetly.
"N-No?" You breathed.
Still attuned to him even when he was fucking your brains out.
"Don't want you to leave."
Oh.
Oh.
He hadn't realised that it slipped from his lips. Hadn't realised that through his brutal thrusts— he was breaking. Lost in the burning bliss, the heat, and the warmth of what could be.
Sukuna lost his fucking mind.
"Don't wanna— fuck. Don't wanna be alone." His face fell into your neck. Arms squeezing your body into his. Trying to melt your skin into his. Tuck himself into your warm flesh and the selfish wish you gave him.
Hazed, and hot, and so heavenly yours.
Slick hair pressed into your cheek. His body collapsed onto yours. Pounding his cock up into your creamy cunt. Chasing his blazing nerves as his mouth rambled.
"Don't want you to leave. Don't. Shit. Don't leave me, please, please don't fucking leave me."
His thrusts lost rhythm. As frantic as his rushed whispers. Plunging into your cervix. Bruising your thighs. Clutching you closer. As close as he could muster. As close as it would take to keep you here forever.
"Say you won't— say you," he slurred. Eyes squeezed shut. Words melting into a clumsy splutter of curses. "Say. Say you won't. Say—"
"Won't. Won't. 'kuna I won't— hngahh. Promise!"
That single word. So raw. So true. Choked in a gasp as you tried to nudge your face closer to him.
It shattered whatever pride he had left.
"You promise?"
He croaked. Dangerously hopeful.
You nodded. Cried.
"Promise. I promise S'kuna. Breed me— please."
He should have known you'd be trouble from the moment you first smiled at him.
Heat trapped him. Seeped into every nerve and spasming muscle. Ears drooped. Tail clinging around your waist, as his arms did every inch of you.
He held your hand.
The ache in his hips nulled to the sound of your sweet voice. Tucking promises away in his heart and sealing them with attempted kisses, even when he was choking you.
He felt your orgasm shake through you. Your body locking up as you babbled his name into the humidity. And with that Sukuna finally— finally let go.
Ramming his cock up one, final time. He stilled. Deep and thrumming within you. Heat bursting from his gut and washing over him in a devastating wave of blissful carnage.
Loud and wrecked, his moan vibrated into your back. Hips rocking in small stutters as spluttering, white ropes creamed your cervix. Pouring his thick cum into every inch of your twitching cunt. Brimming you with him and his promise.
"Fucking. . . fuck. . . hah. Take it. Take all this cum in your pretty pussy." Slurs dragged up your throat, to your ear as you face limped into his arm. His voice husked, a vow.
"Just feel me breeding you full. Filling you with my cubs."
You whined, meekly rocking back into him. But he snatched your hips and pressed it down into the mattress with a soft hush.
The throbbing at his base thrummed into swelling. His knot bloomed until it lodged stiff in your cunt. Pulsing with your pathetic little twitches.
He watched your eyes widen and brows furrow. Your body locked up and a whimper strained from your swollen lips. "Mmm. That's your—"
"Mhhm. Just stay still."
Laving his tongue over one of the bites, Sukuna held you near. Savouring your warmth.
The silence finally didn't feel like a void. Even if it was heavy.
He held onto the moment. Clung to its peace as the warmth simmered into cooling sweat on your flesh.
You broke the quiet first.
"Did you mean that?"
He didn't answer you. But his hand cupped your tummy. Fingers still laced in yours as his face tucked against the back of your shoulder.
". . . Was it too much?"
He never thought his voice could ache.
You tried to shift again, and despite the lump in his throat, he clicked his tongue. Squeezed your thigh in warning. "I said stay still, didn't I?"
"You're never too much. Not for me, Sukuna."
There you went, saying his name like it meant something.
Nudging your face to his, Sukuna licked at the tears on your face. A tender act he never thought himself capable of. "Don't say shit like that."
"That I want you? Or that I love you?"
His breath hitched.
Once the knot settled, he pulled out. Hesitantly— especially with your heat still clinging to him.
"You love me?" He muttered, laying a kiss on your cheek. Then to your jaw. To your shoulder. Down your body until you were on your back.
Calloused thumbs swept your folds back. Eyeing the lewd streak of cum leaking out of you.
His eyes found yours as you spoke, tender.
"Do you want me to say it again?" One of your hands raked into his hair.
His face nudged between your thighs. His hummed approval followed the flat of his tongue. Laving up your slit. Licking away the mess and holding your thighs open amidst their intense shivers.
Even as you whined. With your eyes on the brink of tears. They were still soft for him.
"I love you."
You shouldn't.
He shouldn't.
But he still said it back.
"My mate."
Low, and grumbled, not those three words but something that spelt a deeper bond. One he finally had.
After licking you clean, Sukuna bundled you up into the sheets. Pushing himself from the bed and returning with a warm towel and a water bottle.
He cradled the back of your head as he gave you the water.
Worshipped your flesh as he wiped you down. Tracing over bruises and bites. His mark.
And when you were finally tucked into his arms. Dozing off with your head nestled on his heart that now beat for you. His tail curled around your leg and his claws soft on your curves. Sukuna understood.
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