First Time Dry-humping With Katsuki..?

JUST ONE YESTERDAY— HANMA SHUJI

SYN: i know im bad news, i saved it all for you.

CW: dark content & nsfw. fake marriage. smoking. italics are past events. extreme violence (blood, bone breaking, weapons used, murder, etc.) if you can handle the anime you can handle this. smut. fingering. choking. unprotected sex (hate fucking, sloppy fucking, biting, hair pulling.) gun play. dacryphilia. pet names (babe. princess. little lady. sweetheart) MINORS DNI! AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI!

WC: 9.5k. unedited? beta read halfway by @tetsutits. barely proofread bc fuck it, we ride at dawn <3

assassin!fem!reader + assassin!hanma

NOTE: someone tell my brain to stop coming up with ideas, i simply cannot run away. heavily inspired by: this song. this took me two days to write due to me analyzing fight scenes and other nonsense. also i suck at trying to write smut and im slowly easing myself into those waters again, so please be nice! if i missed anything in the cw tags please let me know but don’t be an ass about it :D thank you guys!

MASTERLIST

Hanma pulls out another cigarette from his pack, placing the stick in between his lips, “Babe, have you seen my lighter?” he mutters distinctively, looking down at you.

You hum out tiredly, hand patting the cup holders, the sound of the lighter bouncing around in the empty holder fills your ears. Fingers wrapping around it, you sit up and away from his chest. Your thumb rolling against the friction roll in one practiced motion, the light from the igniting flame lights both of your faces.

Hanma leans closer to you, the cigarette dangling from his lips, his eyes never leaving yours— even as he leans forward, lighting the cigarette. You swallow dryly, the gaze he held on you made your skin crawl, even after working with him for years now, he still gets you riled up.

The smell of the cigarette lingers in the air, and you grimace at the potent smell. The smoke makes your lungs burn heavily as you lazily toss the lighter back into the cup holder. You snuggle back into his neck, humming softly to yourself. He lets out a grunt, looking down at you while taking a long drag, flicking the excess ash off to the side, making sure to not get you. He knew you already hated the way he smoked but it calmed his nerves and eased his mind.

Your fingers start to trace the outline of the suit he’s wearing, his chest heaving out slowly each time he takes a drag. With one hand on your waist, his long fingers played with the rim of the black dress you had on, feeling content with how you were sitting. The both of you ignoring the beeping coming from his watch, and the ringing from his phone.

You stir lazily, letting out a groan, already wishing for this mission to be over with. You lift yourself up off of him, throwing yourself in the passenger seat.

“Time already?” you mumble out in question, letting out a sigh. Hanma hands you the gun that he held onto, his eyes on his phone.

He hums, giving you an affirmative nod, flicking the ashes off into the cup holder, “Seems so,” he breathes out, giving you a wink.

You lean into the seat and fumble for the bag as Hanma drives to the club. It felt heavy in your lap, grabbing the things you both needed for the mission. You’ve already received the coordinates along with the target that had to be eliminated. Hanma watches you from the corner of his eye, a small smirk lingering on his lips, he places his hand on your thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You don’t really remember when you started to work with Hanma, both of you coming from the same network. Freelancers took side missions that others couldn’t finish, you hated him, his stupid grin and the way he smokes like it’s nobody’s business. He was a well known man, an assassin that everyone feared and in return you were “legally” married to him for the sake of holding a story—a fake marriage that made everything look better. Many of your targets ate up the fact that the both of you played the role of being highschool sweethearts.

“Your wife?” the man says, exhaling smoke from his lungs, you watch as it wafts in the air, causing you to clear your throat.

Hanma grins, placing an arm around your shoulder, placing a kiss on your temple, “Wonderful, isn’t she?”

You gave the man a small smile, closing the gap between you and Hanma, placing a hand on his thigh. “Highschool sweethearts.” you chirp out to him, looking up at Hanma with adoration. He looks down at you, eyes glancing at the way your lips were parted and back up towards your eyes.

You are a temptress, it was your job to seduce and destroy— an irresistible urge Hanma had to mollycoddle with not caring if you couldn’t stand him. He wanted you more than anything and he slowly had you wrapped around his finger, just the way he liked.

The man rips a chilling laugh, placing the cigar on the tray. “Ah, yes, young love.” he sneers, hands quickly rummaging for the pistol he had underneath the table.

Hanma hums at the man, tipping his whiskey glass to him. “Don’t do anything stupid.” he warns, taking a sip of the rum while letting out a relaxed sigh. The man tilts his head, unsure by what Hanma meant as his hand glides over the pistol.

You smiled at Hanma, free hand grabbing the gun from your thigh holster, pointing it at the man. He yelps, a shadow of fear glistening over his face, trying to grab the pistol but you smile to yourself when you hear the weapon fall to the floor. Hanma pulls you closer with a single pull by the chin, kissing you roughly as you fire four shots at the target, ignoring the way his blood splatters around the table. Hanma slips a hand underneath your dress, rubbing your thigh causing you to drop the gun on the table.

“Security on the way! Guys!” your tech engineer yelled in both of your earpieces, you straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers lacing with the strands of his hair. “GUYS!”

Hanma bites the bottom of your lip, giving you one last sloppy kiss before he pulls himself away from your touch. He looks over your shoulder, grinning widely, “Damn princess, overkill?” he whispers to you while pecking your cheek, you look over your shoulder, watching the man’s blood pool around him.

You give Hanma a shrug, sliding yourself off of him, “He kept staring at my tits.” you state in defense, getting up from the booth.

In your defense, Hanma was irresistible, a danger to you, but the way he held onto you after each mission told you otherwise. You were a trained assassin, but yet you couldn’t decipher him at all. A lost feather in the wind tumbling to the ground before being swept back off its feet, Hanma Shuji was the dancing feather in the wind and you were simply the one chasing.

A man full of mysteries, he always knew how to dodge the questions that kept you up at night, but he knew how to keep you on your toes. There has never been a dull moment with him, many called him the “Reaper” or even the “Man behind the mask.” Assassin’s were cautioned to avoid him, always taking him as someone who wants to work alone. You decided to test those waters years ago with the game of cat and mouse.

The smell of bacon and the sweet smell of syrup fill the small outdated diner, the bell above the door rang out in alarm. Causing the waiters to greet you, your heels softly clicking on the porcelain tile as you shrugged off the trench coat, folding it over your arm. You made your way down the aisle, glancing at the man that sat in the red booth that was sipping on a cup of coffee.

The hand tattoos distinctively make an appearance, your stomach flips in excitement, knowing that you had found the man that you wanted to work with. The black tailored suit made him stick out along with the obnoxious newspaper that you could see he was hardly reading. Already coming to terms with yourself on how you were going to get him strung in.

You stood in front of the booth, waiting for him to address you but nothing came out of him. Causing you to tap your heel impatiently, clearing your throat in order to get his attention fixated on you.

Hanma gives you a smug grin, slowly but surely giving you attention after waiting a long 5 minutes. He folds the newspaper in an even half, letting out a low grunt, “Well, are ya’ gonna sit?” he questions you with a smirk.

“Right,” you belittle, sliding in the booth across from him folding your hands together over the table. You started twiddling your thumbs, looking up at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

“You must be the little lady that took her time tracking me down?” he asks, taking a generous sip of his coffee. You swallow the lump in your throat, he figured you out even before you could. It made you backtrack your plan a few steps, wanting to bonk yourself in the head for being so careless. Your intentions were clear, you only needed him for your work and that’s it, already feeling the passion of loathing him had started to set.

“I am that little lady, yes,” you reply with a nod, your eyes never leaving his amber ones. Hanma adjusted his posture, leaning into the table, taking in the way you didn’t do your best to hide your nervousness.

“Heard that you wanted to give me a proposition, hm?” he chides, placing his head on top of his hands, tilting his head in a teasing manner. Hanma slowly wanted to get under your skin, making sure to never take his eyes off of you.

You snap out of the trance, brows going up in realization. “Correct, I actually wanted to ask you if-if you wanted to work side by side,” you calmly say out loud, it sounded so much better in your head but you didn’t care. You had been searching for him for a year and a half, you weren’t going to let him slip away from you now. “I have a lead I’ve been doing for almost two years now—“

He laughs, throwing you off your words, his finger sliding his round glasses back up his nose. “Your yakuza errand, two years?” he baffles out, giving you an uninterested frown. “Honestly, princess, I would have killed that man a long time ago. It’s not worth anyone’s time.” he shrugs off, causing you to blink at him with bewilderment.

You lick your lips, grabbing the butter knife that sat happily on the white napkin, the silver feeling cool against your skin. “I’m not like everyone else,” you grumble, gripping the knife, giving him a stoic glare.

The sound of his laugh ripples through the air, he didn’t know if you were just plain stupid or being serious, his laugh died down in his throat as his fist hit the table, “Don’t waste my time, cut to the fucking chase, little lady.”

You blink, mouth agape in shock, you clench your jaw, nodding your head in agreement. “It has taken me this long because I have to present myself as a married woman. I have gotten closer towards my target, but he wants to meet my fucking husband,” you explain angrily, sticking the butter knife in the air, you twirled it around your knuckles. “I don’t have a husband and that’s the only reason why I've been searching for you. I don’t want anyone else in the network to work with me.” you truthfully say, letting out the breath of air you held in.

“Deal.” he agrees, not even caring to hear more of your sob story. You let out a shocked huff, setting the knife down and looking over at him. You didn’t know if he was bluffing or just saying it to get your hopes up—it intrigued you.

Except Hanma didn’t want to admit, he was truly entranced with your beauty and your solitude, it showed him just enough. You work until your heart contents, no wonder he could see why you dragged out the mission. He knew you were capable of killing a man within 60 seconds and he wasn't going to find out how.

“What’s your coordination?” Hanma says swiftly into the earpiece, drinking the tonic from the glass. His eyes scan the crowd, counting the guards that stood in front of the doors you needed to walk through.

You sigh, adjusting the strap of the dress, clutching the small handbag as you look around the club. Your eyes squint, trying to get used to the flickering lights that danced above you, looking off to your left, you spot Hanma sitting in a private booth.

“To your left, Shuju,” you grumble out awkwardly, letting the nickname slip from your mouth, watching as a dancer starts to straddle his lap as he takes a sip of his drink in the process. “That’s gross, hope you don’t kiss her.” you sneer, swallowing the bile that crawled up your throat.

Hanma takes a long glance over at where you stood, giving you a teasing smirk, “What happens if I do?”

You scoff, not wanting to play his little game, rolling your eyes at his rancid behavior. Smoothly turning on your heel, you made your way up to the second floor of the club. Rolling your shoulders out, and straightening out your posture. Your fingers pinching the sides of your dress down—preparing yourself to advance towards your target.

The goal was to walk through the double doors to the back of the club, eliminating everyone in the room by request of the client. It always got your blood pumping at the thought of revenge kills, something that you enjoy doing. Even if the idea of revenge never suited you, it brought in a hefty amount of cash. You put your life on the line to end fears that haunt people, something that you never thought you’d be doing either.

You didn’t have time to play coy, you had one night, and the only window was in this club. Hanma could tell you were antsy the moment he saw you make your way back down the staircase—you were not going to wait. He quickly pushes the girl off of his lap, muttering a small curse word as he stepped out of the booth.

You were too quick on your feet to be caught by Hanma’s grasp as you waltzed on over to the guards. A single finger twirling in your hair as you chewed on the inside of your cheeks, giving the two men a sultry smile. You ignore Hanma’s protests in your ear as you place a hand on one of the guard's beefy shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Steroids? Protein? What’s your secret?” you pester, dropping your hand from the man’s shoulder.

“Move along, the party is back there, not over here.” the other man rudely clarifies, pointing a thick finger over your shoulder. You blink in wonder, following where he pointed his finger, you pout.

“That’s no fun, I wanna go back there!” you plea, crossing your arms over your chest, making sure to bunch up your breasts at the same time. One of the men rolled his eyes, turning his gaze away from you but the other started to salivate at the sight before him.

“You walk in there on your own and I won’t be able to help you, babe.” Hanma says angrily through the earpiece. You smile up at the guard, picturing Hanma gritting his teeth and clenching his fists into frustrated balls of anger.

The guard lets you through the doors, his hand respectfully on your shoulder guiding you, “Go have your little bitch fit.” you whisper off to the side, hearing Hanma scoff.

The sound of girl’s moaning and panting filled the dark hallway, time to get this show on the road, the sooner it’s done, the sooner you could relax. The rooms in the back were the brothel’s sex rooms, it made you sneer out in disgust. The smell of sex started to stick to you skin, causing you to look over at the guard, but his eyes were trained at the way your breasts slowly bounced with each step you took.

Your hand quickly slipped the knife out from the thigh holster, it glistened underneath the neon lights. The guard furrows his thick brows, hand ghosting over the weapon he had on his hip. “What do ya think you're doing?” he asks you, pulling your shoulder back to display the scene unfolding before his eyes.

You grab the guard's hand, pulling his wrist back harshly, ignoring the way he hisses out in pain. Once you heard the bone crack, you sent the dagger straight into his arm, dragging it across the flesh. You sneer as you feel his blood come in contact with your face. You step away, dodging a blow to the side, leaning back with a wide eyed look, you jump in the air as you kick him across the face. Letting out a satisfied huff, you wipe the blood and sweat from your brow as you land in a staggering position. Lifting your hands up to protect your face as the dagger is protectively at an angle walking closer to him.

The guard lunges for you, dodging the blade as he grabs you by your hair, sending you to the floor as you feel blood dribble from your temple. You yelp out in pain, trying to shake it off. You wrap your legs around his bloodied forearm, making you groan out in disgust at the way his blood drips onto you. Using all the strength you had, you sent him to the ground, twisting him forward, the sound of his chin meeting the concrete flooring, gave you just enough leeway to crack his shoulder out of place easily. The sound of his pained scream filled the hall, causing many to stumble out of the rooms as you let the man go quickly. Panting heavily, you heard multiple shots in your earpiece—Hanma was definitely having his bitch fit.

You grab the gun that had landed on the floor, checking the clip with blurry eyes. You aimed the gun at a few people, shooting a girl in her back as she tried to make an escape for the door. Everyone that dared to try and escape now came to a halt, all of them cowered to the floor covering their heads.

You lean up, blinking away the tiredness, seeing the guard stagger up, holding his shoulder in place. You let out an angry breath of air. “You owe me,” you say softly, getting up, slipping out of the red bottoms, picking them up, “A new pair of these, you bitch.” you finish, throwing them at the man, aiming the gun at his knee caps.

“Hanma! You better get your ass in here now!” you yell out, kicking the guy down, firing one last round straight between his eyes.

You sneer at the sight, tossing the gun off of the side. You pull a few strands of hair away from your face, and wipe the blood from the side of your head. You hear nothing but static on your end of the earpiece, worry starts to build in the pit of your stomach.

You walk over to another door, knocking on it, jiggling the doorknob angrily. Looking over your shoulder, a few more guards rush in, guns in their hands and ready to fire. You felt the door jolt open, startling the girl that was in nothing but a g-string, shoving your way past her. You start to search the room for any weapon, throwing things off of the tables in a frantic manner. You heard the girl scream out, making you stop, she didn’t scream when you walked in so why was she screaming now?

Turning around you were faced with a man no shorter than you pointing a small glock in your direction. You laugh at the man’s stupidity, giving him a sadistic grin. You extended your hands out, tapping his shiny bald head with a low smirk on your lips, the man tilted his head at the actions. You continue to grin sheepishly, bringing your knee up at an 90 degree angle as your hands grip the back of his neck. The feeling of his nose hitting your bare knee makes you wince out as you block his hits. Your palms send the weapon up towards the roof, letting the man fire out the shots. You suck on your bottom lip in between your teeth, sending the man back a few steps, letting out an angry yell as you lunged towards him. Colliding into his body quickly sending it to the floor. You watch him land on the small step to the bathroom as the sound of his vertebra snapping sent shivers down your spine.

“Where are you?” Hanma rings in your ear, causing you to come to a halt, ignoring the girl that was off to the side yelling at you.

“Further down on your right—” you rush out, feeling the barrel of a weapon meet your side, you turn around softly. The girl stood behind you, shaking harshly as tears stream down her face, she started to mutter incoherent words. Blocking out the sound of Hanma’s voice, you swallow, raising your hands in the air, tossing your dagger off onto the floor.

“Put it down,” you coax, looking at her with pleading eyes, “I won’t kill you!” you say sweetly, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Oh, but I will.” Hanma bellows from behind you, causing you to lunge at the girl, subconsciously yanking the weapon from her. The sound of the gun popping makes you jump, watching her body drop to the floor, your hands fly to your side, wincing at the pain as your hands shook violently.

Spitting up a few drabbles of blood, you blink away the tears. “You shot me?” you ask, spitting out blood onto the floor.

“You got in the way.” he scoffs, stuffing his gun in the back of his pants, pacing over to you.

“I had it handled,” you wince, pulling your hands away from your side slowly, seeing blood on your hands. You look down at the girl, her blood pooling around her skull, he fired two shots. Feeling the world around you grow dizzy, you extend a bloodied hand out towards Hanma, choking on small wads of blood.

Hanma rolls his eyes, giving you a ‘are you serious’ glare, bringing you closer to him. He grabs hold of you, pulling your slumping body up by the top of your dress, you hiss out in pain. “Up you go,” he huffs out, picking you up easily as he slowly carries you out of the room.

You blink in and out of consciousness, seeing the neon lights shine bright above you to the sound of men yelling and gunfire fill your ears. You harshly grip the collar of Hanma’s suit, muttering small words out, trying to keep your breathing even.

“These requirements…are they meant to be taken seriously?” he asks you, lighting the cigarette that dangled from his mouth, blowing the smoke off to the side. You scrunch your nose at his habit, passing him the last document he had to sign.

“Yes, if anything happens to either of us, these documents will save our asses.” you embellish, pouring the syrup over your pancakes, Hanma raises a brow at you.

“You put syrup on your eggs too?” he queries, grimacing at the way the fork met the plate. You nodded your head at him, taking a bite of the food.

“Shut up and sign the paperwork, we’re getting weird stares.” you retort, poking the egg yolk. Hanma takes one long drag from the stick, quickly signing the document before sliding it back over to you.

The requirements that would justify the marriage, you were the humble wife and he was the loyal husband that came home after work on time. No evidence leading back to what both of your occupations were and you made sure it stayed that way.

“You just had to be in the way, huh?” he scolds, trudging up the stairs of the penthouse slowly. You flick his ear out of protest, having to hear him scold you all the way home was definitely what you needed. You moan out in pain, your hand flying to the wound. Forgetting that you were injured, you press on it lightly, seeing blood start to seep from it.

“Oh, don’t worry! It’s all over me and my car.” he exclaims sarcastically, sitting you down on the toilet. You blink up at him, smearing your fresh blood on his now stained suit. Hanma grunts at you, shrugging off the jacket and rolling up his sleeves. You watch him, noticing the blood that is splattered all over him, along with the huge stain from your own wound.

“I’ll buy you a new one, and for the record,” you say wincing as he turns his back to grab the medical kit, “That’s my car,” you mumble, sitting up slightly to take the dress off, letting out hisses of pain as the fabric let loose around your skin. “Here.” you grumble out as Hanma stuck a hand out to take the dress from you.

“Your car?” he questions, tossing the dress in the sink before placing the kit on the white counter, fishing for the things he needed. You hum in response, “Babe, I bought that car, just because you drive it. Don’t make it yours.” he blathers, pointing the scissors at you before washing his hands.

“Whatever you say, Shuju,” you utter, grabbing the hand mirror off the counter, and start examining the wound. Your hand reaches back behind to see if the blow went through. “Shit,” you gasp, tilting the mirror back over your wound, noticing the bullet that stuck out of your skin, “It wasn’t a clean blow.”

Hanma let out the breath of air he was holding in, unaware on how to approach this predicament. You were always the one patching him up, not the other way around. He didn’t mean to shoot you but he panicked.

He ruffles his hair, patting the top of your head, and leans over to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “On the counter,” he commands, making enough space for you, he doesn’t say another word as he exits the bathroom quickly.

You look at yourself in the mirror, noticing the blood that was caked on you, the dirt that had caked your legs and even your shoulders. You felt grimy and in desperate need of a shower. Fixing the bra strap that had slipped off your shoulder, you hopped onto the counter, breathing in and out as you watched more blood seep from the wound.

“You’re gonna need this,” he remarks, handing you the large bottle of vodka. “Oh and don't squirm because I have no fuckin’ idea how to do this.” he finishes with a smirk, wiggling his brows as he throws on some medical gloves.

You nodded quietly, twisting open the top to the bottle, taking a generous chug of the beverage. You hum at the way it crept back up your throat, causing you to cough up small specks of blood onto the counter. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, ignoring a wide eyed Hanma as he starts to mutter under his breath.

“Check the wound, disinfect, clean, suture, disinfect, and wrap,” you guide out to him, your hand rummaging through the medical box, finding the wrap he needed to use. “The bullet is still embedded in my skin so you have to use the prongs, er, maybe tweezers.” you add, leaning back a bit.

Hanma nods along, placing himself in between your legs, one hand firmly grips your thigh as the other leans you farther back. He needed to make sure the light hit the wound perfectly, he didn’t want to cause anymore pain or unwanted blood.

You let out a shaky breath, hands gripping the edges of the counter as you feel the cool metal at your skin. Hanma bit his bottom lip, moving his shoulder in front of his face, pushing the glasses back up his nose as he slowly started to work on the bullet. You bite back a yelp, your hand reaching out for the heavy bottle as you seeth out in pain.

“Deep breaths, princess.” he mutters to you, looking up at you through his lashes. You nod meekly, pouring some of the vodka onto the wound before bringing the bottle back over to your mouth. You hiss once the alcohol hits your skin, letting out a shaky breath.

Hanma presses lightly on the wound, letting the blood race down your skin, he maneuveres the tweezers over the biggest piece of bullet that had been sticking out of your skin. You felt the metal work its way into you, taking a sharp inhale of air as you felt the bullet being pulled out of your skin. You bit down your lip as your hands went over to cup your mouth, trying to hold back the scream. The tears started to slowly roll down your face as you felt the wave of pain course through your body.

“That’s one,” he mutters, placing the bullet in a bowl, he looks up at you, wiping away the stray tears that fell from your eyes. “One more, okay?” he reassures you, dabbing gauze over the bleeding wound.

You look at him with low lidded eyes, “Shooting me was not a part of the plan, Hanma.” you cough out, leaning your head back up against the wall. He looks at you, hands shaking slightly as he tries his best to get the smaller chunk.

“It was an accident, it’s not like you’d do that to me,” he admits, flicking his gaze up at you and back down at the bullet. You grew quiet, biting down your lip in thought. “Right?“ he asks as he pulls away from you.

It was exactly how he put it, you would shoot him. You would make sure to kill him if it was needed, your need for him was already completed. At this pace, you just enjoyed his company, his work ethic and the way he fucks you. Being caught up in a fantasy that didn’t seem real in the occupation you were in, Hanma wanted to retire. You wanted to go on trips and live in another country away from your past. These were two different dreams for two different people that had no connection outside of work.

“I wouldn’t,” you lie smoothly, giving him a tired smile. “You’re too pretty for me to even raise my gun at.” you let out, feeling the pit in your stomach churn with guilt.

He hums in satisfaction, swiftly taking the bullet out from your skin, “I can’t get the last one out.” he bellows, his hoarse voice fills your head.

“Yes, you can.” you encourage as you adjust the way you sat on the counter. You grab the bottle of vodka, taking another swig of the burning liquid.

“On three,” he tells you, looking at you as his hands pressed against your stomach. You nod out in pain, taking a deep breath, looking up at the blinding lights of the bathroom.

“One.”

You held back a whimper, clamping a hand over your mouth, hearing the way the sound of your flesh squirmed against the tool. “Two.” Feeling him tug harshly on your skin.

You yell out, tears streaming down your face as you kick Hanma off of you. “You said, on three!” you remark at him, wiping your tears away from your stained cheeks.

He shrugs, tossing the items in a bowl that was filled with alcohol. “I got impatient.” he states with a smirk. You groan out in pain, fighting back the urge to slap him.

You surely were going to regret your mission. It was bound to happen, you are an assassin, someone that doesn’t trust easily. Here you were, getting assigned to another job by your network to take out one of their own.

“I reckon you won’t get your personal feelings involved in this?” the board's director asks you through the phone.

You put the cigarette out up against the concrete wall, blowing out the smoke. Looking out at the pedestrians that were doing their daily commute, that could have been you chasing down a taxi but maybe in another lifetime. Maybe in another life you’ll be away from all the anger, the guilt, and the constant fear you lived in.

You quickly hum into the call, closing your thoughts, “Feeling is mutual.” you state harshly, holding back the next set of words you wanted to add. Why did it have to be you? Ending the call without another acknowledgment before walking back into the building.

“Eliminate Hanma Shuji at all costs, 200,000,000¥ will be deposited once the assignment is completed.”

He was too caught up in his own concentration as he sutured your wound shut. Throwing out curse words every given second, his fingers slipping against your spilled blood.

Not glancing up at you to see that you had slipped out of consciousness due to the pain. “Babe?” he repeats as he shakes you awake with panic forming in his eyes. He hears you hum out to him as he wipes his brow, feeling full of relief.

He tosses the gloves in the sink, trying his best to make sure the blood doesn’t get on the clean wrapping. Hanma leans over and kisses your cheek softly, “I’m sorry.” he whispers to you. Pulling away, frowning at the sight as he starts to bring the wrap around your abdomen.

“It’s okay.” you utter restlessly, giving him a small smile. You knew better than to keep adding fuel to the flame but the time was now. If you pushed this on even more, then both of you wouldn’t be able to move past it. Especially you.

“I thought I lost ya’,” he sighs out truthfully, throwing you a worried look. You hear the scissors snip the wrap and the way his hands pressed down carefully onto the now sealed wound.

He places both hands on his hips and looks at you, biting down his lip in thought. Admiring the work he had done on you, “I think I did well.” he comments with a wide grin.

Of course he did well, you were always the one patching him up if he got snagged. You gave him lessons on stuffed animals and on pillows. He just didn’t want to admit that an assassin like you sometimes got wounded. You were skilled, your tactics always came together and you’re a quick thinker. Something that threw his ass out of your league, you downplayed and he didn’t dare to step foot on your turf. Even if he knew that, you were going to be the death of him one day and he had a feeling that it would be sometime soon.

You shake your head in agreement, “I’m starving.” you croak, trying your best to hop off of the counter, wincing at the sharp pain.

Hanma quickly goes over to help you, helping you off of the counter, giving you a scolding glare. “I just patched you up. Stay still will ya?” he hooks a finger under your chin, “I’ll go grab ya something, okay?” he murmurs softly, bringing his lips to your forehead.

You stand there briefly, hearing the sound of his footsteps fade away, the feeling of the cold air coming from the air vent made you shiver. You rubbed your face, groaning out in agony. “Now or never.” you whisper to yourself, hitting the secret compartment that was hidden on the side of the counter.

You grabbed the clips, slamming one of them into the glock as you wobbly made your way to the closet. You calculated the time it would take for Hanma to travel back up the stairs from the kitchen. “Two minutes?” you ponder, yanking a black baggy nightshirt from the velvet hanger. “No, 60 seconds.” you murmur, slipping the shirt over your head, quickly rushing over to the back of the bathroom door.

The sound of his footsteps grew heavier, closing your eyes in thought, you started to contemplate on the next move. Either shoot him with no remorse or question him. You grew silent, hearing his voice before you.

“I got your fav—“

You swipe your tongue over your bottom lip, pressing the gun into his side, “On your knees,” you snarl out in demand, Hanma looks off to his side, dropping the food he had made for you. “Now!”

“Princess?” he exclaims, the sound of his voice wavers, full of disbelief. That gut feeling had come true, you were going to murder him in cold blood.

“For the violation of code, thirty two, you’ve been sentenced to be executed,” you sneer, kicking him in the knee, watching him stumble to the floor. “You remember the incident in Osaka?” you dryly ask, gripping the gun with both of your hands, this wasn’t the time to fall to his tricks.

He laughs, “So this is what it’s about?” he scowls, jaw clenched and fingers thrown into large shaking fists. You circle around him, keeping your eyes on him as you keep the gun at an angle.

“Tell me, did you kill them?” you ask, biting down your lip, the familiar taste of copper fills your mouth. You wanted to hear it from him and not from anyone else.

He grins sadistically, ruffling his hair with his tattooed hand, the word ‘sin’ flashing in your eyes. You swallowed the saliva that had started to build in the back of your throat, clenching your jaw as you stepped closer towards him. “Don’t tell me you knew them?” he taunts, slowly rising up from the ground.

“I-I don’t let my feelings get involved with my work,” you stutter, holding back the tears that started to well up. Stepping closer towards him, you pressed the gun up against his chest, letting out a shaky breath.

“You let your personal feelings get in the way of our work. Didn’t you, sweetheart?” he murmurs to you, one of his hands met the barrel of the weapon as his other hand found its way up your shirt.

No. It was him. He slithered himself in between you. Seemingly, you fell for his charm and you were so careless. So devoted to your work that you kept running back to him and you were carelessly in love with him. You had a mission to carry out and you knew better than to ever get your feelings involved with such need.

“Why did you do it?” you ask him, feeling his large hand start to knead your breast like his own personal stress ball. His fingers pinching your nipple in the process sent shivers down your spine.

He chuckles, prying your shaky fingers off of the gun, “Just following orders,” he coos, his hand yanking the weapon away from you. The sound of it going off, caused you to jump slightly. Looking up to see the hole in the ceilings of the penthouse. “Oops.” he tosses the gun onto the bed.

You watch as he starts to lower himself back towards the ground. You feel his lips start to kiss along the inside of your thigh. Mouth agape, you furrow your brows, “Orders? F-From— Fuck.” you breathe out when he nibbles on a piece of skin, you feel his tongue swipe over the spot.

“No. No. Continue,” he states, voice laced with sarcasm, an envious grin on his face. “It’s not like you tried to just kill me or anything.” he smarts off, swiftly shoving your body into the edge of the bed. You hiss out in pain, quickly closing your thighs in the process.

“I was assigned to kill you,” you muster, looking at him through half lidded eyes. He laughs out at your snide comment, hands unbuckling his belt. The click of the belt set alarms off in your head, looking at the gun that was laying on the opposite side of the bed. You lean up using your shoulders for support trying your best to scoot away from him as he crawls over you.

“Assigned, huh?” he chuckles, yanking your legs open, causing you to squirm in the process. An inaudible hiss of pain leaves your lips, fire to the fuel was now being burned slowly and you had no way to control it. That need grew for him more and tonight was going to be the last night.

“A game of cat and mouse,” he whispers in your ear, pressing himself against your soaked panties. You threw your head back at the sensation the friction was giving you, trying your best to hold back the pitiful moan. “You had me fooled but two can play that game,” he sneers as his lips ghost over yours. You grew quiet, not wanting to say a word as he hooked two fingers over the band of your underwear, sliding them down effortlessly.

Throwing your head back, a loud moan erupted from your lips as you felt two of his fingers slip through the folds of your cunt. He smirks down at you, letting out a soft, “May I?” admiring the way your lips parted in awe. You nod quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him closer towards you.

You felt his lips brush against yours, impatiently kissing you as his hand started to roam your body. His digits started to circle the sensitive bud in slow motions, causing you to tug onto the bottom of his lip. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, your fingers entangle themselves with his hair as you part your legs wider, needing him to pick up the pace. His hand finds comfort at the dips of your hip, gripping at the skin harshly. You let out a needy whimper as you feel his fingers curl inside of you. The sound of your pussy squelching around his fingers in such a lewd manner made his cock twitch. He needs to be inside of you now before he lets his load go to waste.

“Please,” you whisper out. Taking in the way he looked above you, his amber eyes showed nothing but anger and lust. “Just this once.” you beg, moving strands of hair away from his face and tucking it back behind his ears.

He laughs out loud while pulling away from you, bringing the two fingers towards his mouth. You watch him suckle on them, eating up the way you tasted. “You dumb little lamb.” he avows coldly as he grabs the gun from the side. You swallow hard, your eyes grow wide at the way he sets the gun on your chest.

“You move an inch and I won't hesitate, ” he scoffs, pinning your arms over your head. Your eyes dart down at the gun and back up at him, nodding quickly.

“Good. Now spread.” he demands, watching you slowly spread your legs for him. He bites his lip down, holding back the words that wanted to spill from his mouth. Humbling himself quickly as he reminds himself that you are still assigned to kill him.

Too worn out, too weak, to even fight him back, you grew limp at the way he pounded into you. From the way his fingers pulled at your scalp to the way his teeth dragged across your collarbone, everything he did was poison to you. Sending your body into another yelping orgasm, you cried out his name over and over again like a broken record. Tears started to form in your eyes as he bit down at the sensitive skin around your breasts.

“Sh-Shuji, please— Ah! Fuck!” you whimper, bucking your hips into his. He grunts out in response, a throaty groan left his lips as he felt your pussy clench around his cock.

Your moans fill the room as you feel his hand grip loosely around your neck as he thrusted into you. You turn your head away from him, feeling pathetic that he was fucking you with such hatred. “N-No, you're going to watch me.” he grunts out, pulling on your chin.

You let out a huff of air, completely forgetting the situation before he started to feel himself up against you. He was going to use this one night to fuck you, like he hated your guts. Knowing the task at hand still stood, but you needed him and he needed you.

He wipes the sweat from his brow, taking the gun into his hands, you lick your lips out in thought. Feeling worry start to build in the pit of your stomach, you had your mouth agape as a stifled moan left your lips. “Open wide.” he says, waving the gun around. You close your mouth shut, glancing up at him with hate in your eyes.

“I said, open up.” he seethes, pounding himself into you harder causing you to throw your head back in pleasure as you arch your back forward. Your mouth starts to open up slowly, trying to form words but nothing comes out.

He doesn't give you no time to think as he places the gun into your mouth. You furrow your brows, looking up at him through your lashes as you feel your drool drip down the barrel of the gun. You started to say something but the words became muffled as he started to move the weapon around in your mouth.

You didn't even know if he emptied out the rounds, his finger ghosting over the trigger as he stared at you with icy amber eyes. You moan out, your shaky fingers starts to press onto your clit, trying to add as much pressure to reach the desired need you wanted to feel. He continues to thrust himself deeper into you, his hands never leaving the gun that he had shoved into your mouth. Trying to say something to him once again but your drool bubbled in the small slits of the corners of your lips.

“I'm sorry? What was that?” he explicated, pulling the weapon from your mouth, watching you take a deep breath of air. Your chest heaving up and down viciously but he didn't care, he was too entranced by the way your breasts bounced to his own rhythm.

The sound of your moans started to fill his head, dragging the gun down your body as he let it hover over your patched up wound. He pinched the flesh of your ass roughly with his other hand, watching you jolt up at the contact. You cry out in pain feeling the heavy weapon lay on top of your wound, tears pricking your eyes but Hanma didn't stop. He felt himself reach his high to the sound of your cries, your begging and even your sweetened pitiful moans.

You tangle your hands within the sheets of the messy bedding, throwing your head into the body pillows, letting out a loud moan that could have been heard from outside of the penthouse— if you had left the windows open. You call out his name like a mantra needing to be spilled, wrapping your legs harder around his waist, letting him come undone inside of you.

“I-I'm—“ you stutter, rolling your eyes in the back of your head as you feel yourself starting to ride out your aching high with Hanma. His pants and low moans filled your ears as his thrusting grew sloppy as his lips attacked your skin. The sound of your name blabbering from his lips made you grow wide eyed as he breathed out heavily, wiping the sweat off of his brow.

Both of you lay there, his head meeting yours as you tried your best to control your breathing. He didn't even glance up at you, give you a reassuring kiss on the forehead or even offer to crack a joke. It was filled with labored breathing and growing tension.

You closed your eyes, breathing out harshly as your hands lightly toss the gun off of the bed. Hanma watches you with caution, pulling himself away from you as he gently pats your thighs. Climbing out of the bed, you watch him with tired eyes as you grab the robe off the night stand.

Back to reality starts to hit you, and now the tension grows heavy. Not wanting to finish out the mission and wanting him to ask you if this was a joke. You wanted to take it all away, you wanted to run away with him, but you were greedy. Brainwashed and manipulated into thinking this man killed the most important people in your life. You were blinded by rage. This was a lesson, a lesson that showed you to never spill your guts to the first man that taught you how to love. Teaching you how to love in the worst kind of way.

“If you're going to kill me,” he sighs, throwing on a pair of pants, “At least, do it when I'm asleep, okay?” he comments, walking past you with a frown as he pats your shoulder.

You shove his hand off of you, scoffing at his behavior, “I can't.” you reply hoarsely, hands wrapped around your waist in a protective manner. Hanma halts, turning back around slowly.

He tilts his head to the side mockingly, waving a finger inches from your face, “How pathetic.” he chuckles out, shaking his head at you. He takes two steps closer to you, hovering over you as he gets closer towards your ear. “Here I thought you'd be able to kill a man within 60 seconds,” he pauses, looking down at the way your face palls.

Almost finding comfort in the way your face showed nothing but waves of emotions even he couldn't convey, it made him think back to all of the years you two spent together. It almost felt like a fever dream. “What are ya waiting for?” he whispers as his teeth nip at the top of your earlobe.

He was right, you were pathetic. You couldn't even bring yourself to run towards the guns in your closet or even the knives you kept in your draws. You stood there frozen, eyes glistening with tears as you watched him walk into the bathroom that followed with a door slam.

His words run through your mind like a mosquito hovering over flesh waiting to take a swim in the enriching taste of blood. It left a sour taste in your mouth as the loaded gun lay on your lap as you watched the sun start to rise. The quick buzzing of your phone snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Confirm kill….payment is waiting.”

The phone grew heavy in your hands, looking over at Hanma, admiring the way his chest rose and fell. You let out a shaky breath as you wipe away the tears that have started to well up in your eyes. You pull the covers off your body, sliding off of the bed quietly, fingers straightening out the black top you wore as you shoved the phone in your back pocket.

The weapon grows heavy in your hands with each step you took towards his side of the bed he was laying on. You cup a hand over your mouth, stifling the sobs that started to fall from your mouth. Breathe hitching in the back of your throat as you raise the shaky gun over him.

“You're bad news,” he chucked out, shoving another piece of candy in his mouth, “I like it.”

“Careful, what you wish for Shuju.” you mumble, yanking your bag of candies from him, giving him a small weak glare.

His laughter rings in your head as he brings his large hands to the sides of your face, “My wish has already come true.” he whispers as he pecks your lips.

Bang!

“When I tell you, I can handle it! Means I can handle it!” you yell at him, tossing the paperwork off the table. He scoffs, tapping his shoe against the tile angrily, shaking his head at you.

“To hell with our requirements, then?” he seethes out, his voice never rising as he waltzed over to you. Yanking the yellow folder from your fingers, “You missed a whole ass paragraph and that proves to me that no. You can't handle it!” he retorts, slapping the folder against his open palm, giving you an eye roll before he storms off.

Bang!

“Once again, Hanma, you are letting me down.” you murmured into the phone, flipping through the magazines as you peered at the woman that walked in. The target you needed to eliminate.

“Look who's talking,” he snarks back, flicking the toothpick off onto the sidewalk, “Anyways, are you almost done? I got reservations for us in two hours.” he grins out widely, winking at you through the wide shop window before walking off.

Bang!

You turn away, throwing the gun at the window far across the room. Your choked sobs and screams filled the quiet room, as your knees buckled underneath you. The sound of his blood dripping off onto the floor made your skin crawl. Bringing your hands over your ears, you started to rock yourself, murmuring the two words you value the most, “I'm sorry.”

Your phone vibrated in the back of your pocket, grabbing your attention as you rubbed your eyes, wiping the blood that had splattered onto your face in the process. You look at the no caller ID, clenching your jaw in hatred. You answered it after the fourth ring, the line was quiet, waiting for you to speak.

You let out a shaky breath, “Target has been eliminated. I want my ransom and I'm out.” you harshly spew, your fingers pressing the red button as you fumble back up. Taking one last glance at the pool of blood but never at his face or his body.

You don't remember much of the night when you murdered him, you didn't bury him nor did you notify the authorities. Having already seen the network clean-up crew waiting outside of the penthouse doors tells you enough. But you didn't stay, no, you ran like a dog with its tail in between its hind legs. You cleared your name and went to another country that didn't have any data on you. You wanted to forget, and this was the only way too.

Except the nightmares still crept through your dreams, his smile, his voice, and even down to the way he used to hold you so close at night. It was all gone, you were the one, who had taken that away. You were never really taught how to grieve, but slowly you felt the lingering pain of heartbreak park its way right into your tainted soul.

Each morning, you sit on your large porch, watching the waves crash against each other, reminding you of him. Each night, you stayed up until two, whispering goodnights to yourself and wishing he was there with you. Everything you did was for him.

It was a year, maybe two when you finally grew out of that state of misery. Coming to terms that you were just meant to never accept anyone else or love anyone else. Your time as an assassin caught up with you, many of the townsfolk got word that a killer lived amongst them. Though, they would never suspect it was you, the sweet lady that gave the kids candy anytime they walked through the garden as a shortcut to the beach.

Your time as an assassin did bring in many freelancers to your doorstep begging you to train them, take them under your wing as a student. You did agree to one girl, she reminded you so much of him. It made you want to tell her about him but you refrain yourself from doing so.

“My old sensei, Hanma, has told me about you.” she says out loud, grabbing the walking stick and digging it into the ground.

You pause, dusting your hands off with the cloth that was draped over your shoulder, turning your gaze on the girl. “Excuse me?”

She laughs, “Did you really think you killed him?”

Your blood ran cold, dropping the gardening tool as you quickly got up from the sitting position. The girl panics, fumbling to grab her ringing phone from her pocket, the ringtone rumbles through the speakers.

“Answer it.” you demand with a clenched jaw. You watch as the girl answers the phone, whispering into it quickly and flickering her eyes at you and back towards the roses bushes. She quietly passes you the phone, stepping away from you but making sure to be within earshot.

“Hello?” you chime into the phone speaker, feeling your skin crawl at the line and its waves of static. You kept your expression stoic making sure to have your eyes trained on your student, if this was a joke you would surely have her do laps until she passed out.

After a few more seconds went by, you started to realize that this wasn't a joke. You heard someone's voice, a voice that you tried to distinctly make out but the connection of the call was static. Briefly making out the three words that made you shake in bewilderment.

“Miss me, Princess?”

can i request arranged marriage with toji and corruption please 🥰

wedding rings - toji x fem!reader (5k)

the zenin clan just can't stop meddling in toji's affairs. what's he supposed to do with the nervous little virgin who shows up on his doorstep and says that her family and his have said they have to get married? not fuck her?

warnings: not sfw/minors dni. arranged marriage. corruption kink. virgin reader. light cunnilingus, fingering, coming inside. light dub-con by nature of 'arranged marriage'. afab reader, fem pronouns.

[a/n: writing toji is always so much fun ;_; ]

When you showed up at Toji’s door with suitcase in hand, trembling lip and eyes all wide and frightened, he had laughed outright.

It was just like the fucking Zenin clan to be meddling in his life even now, wasn’t it? Even though Toji has abandoned them and slaughtered their ilk, their bullshit about bloodlines still leaks into every facet of what they do; and clearly the idea that Toji, even with his flawed lack of cursed energy, might be able to pass on the technique and hasn’t got a pretty little wife to impregnate yet had rankled them so badly that they’d sorted the whole situation out for him.

If he didn’t hate jujutsu society so much, he’d almost feel bad for you.

You’re clearly in the bloom of life; fresh-faced and innocent, not expecting to find yourself in Toji’s messy shithole of an apartment (why bother making it nice, when he spends so long out of it for work?). He wonders who you’ve pissed off to end up here.

As it turns out, you end up telling him yourself, a frown on your face.

Turns out, you’re . . . not quite just like him, but you’ve been fucked over by your clan just as much for not being able to be useful. You can see cursed spirits, but you’ve got no cursed energy, no technique – despite your clan usually producing good, dutiful, powerful wives. Disappointment of the family. He can understand what that feels like.

So they were probably glad to get rid of you. Might even hope you’ll bear Toji’s kid and it’ll have no technique to speak of itself, too – so both families can forget about you.

(Well, Toji thinks to himself with a grin – his family can’t forget about him, much as they want to, considering both his nickname and his line of work.)

He takes a sip of the glass of water he’s holding in his hand, green eyes focused very hard on you. You’re not in traditional clothing, like most clan members he knows would be; you’re wearing a pale blue dress that you keep tugging uncomfortably down over your thighs. Toji lets his eyes linger on your thighs, too – he might as well appreciate the view, he supposes.

Your suitcase is full of, as well as a collection of clothes in modest cut and soft, pastel colours, documents. Toji flips through some of them, nose wrinkling at the boring jargon. He does linger on a caveat about if you bear him children, they all have to take the Zenin name, and Toji and you will be ‘compensated handsomely’ for handing over the kid’s education and raising to the clan--

Bullshit.

Toji’s about to crumple them up on the floor and tell you to get the fuck out of his house, when he catches sight of you over the edge of the paper. You’ve drawn yourself in; shoulders tight, pretty mouth pressed into a tight line, eyes shining with a mixture between hope and fear. You look so lost. You look so innocent.

A little curl of heat makes itself known in the very base of Toji’s stomach; the thought of you being a good little wife, on your knees. The thought of him telling you exactly how to suck his cock.

He knows how the sorcerer clans raise women like you.

He knows you’ll be eager to please and obedient, falling over yourself to keep your man happy. He knows, too, that you’ll be pliant and agreeable – and that you’ll be pure as the driven snow. That thought gives him pause.

You’re seductive to him without realising it, in the totally guileless way you act, as if you don’t know that he’s considering how your tits would fill his hands and how tight your precious, untouched cunt would feel around his girth.

If he rejects you, what will your clan do?

You’re as fucked as him. He can see it in the shine of your eyes in his kitchen; you’re afraid he will throw you out, like he was thinking of. Leave you to fend for yourself on the streets of Japan, because there’s no way your family will want you back after even scum like Toji’s rejected you.

Would it be so bad?

He lets himself look at you critically. He takes in the curves, the dips, the contours of your body; the way you’d feel beneath him. Your face, and what it would look like lost in pleasure.

Perhaps it would be pleasant, to have someone to return to after a hit; to have someone warm his bed, curl around him, cook for him and take care of him. Perhaps it would be pleasant to take a pretty little virgin and break her into exactly what he wants in a woman. To teach her how he likes to fuck, how he likes her to act, to condition her until he can crook his finger at her and she’s bending over, presenting herself already slick and needy for his cock to use however he sees fit.

“Alright,” he says, draining the glass. “Sure, sweetheart. We’ll get married.”

Later on that night, he creeps into the spare room. You’re asleep on top of the covers in a cute pyjama set that’s all frills and froth and pale pink; elastic in the shorts digging into the flesh of your thighs, top clinging to the curve of your chest. His cock stirs in his pants looking at you. You’re so . . . innocent. There’s no mark to you; Toji wants to cling to your hips until there are bruises in the shape of his hands, wants to worry love-bites into your neck like a necklace, wants to ruin you until you’re tear-stained and whimpering and arching your hips up for him--

Calloused fingers trail along your skin. You’re so soft. Where Toji is all scars and muscle, your skin is like satin. You moan in your sleep, pretty face furrowing, and Toji wants to see your face creased in pleasure too. Your mouth drops open and he imagines thrusting his cock in it; how pretty and shiny your lips would look wrapped around his shaft, almost too big for you to even take.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, thumb skimming the exposed stomach where your pyjama top has ridden up. “Ripe for the picking, ain’t ya?”

Your eyes twitch. Eyebrows, furrow – and you blink your gaze awake, sticky-slow, to see your fiancee looming over you in the dark.

“What’re you—?” You ask, still sleep-laced, but Toji just makes a soft noise in the back of his throat.

“Just lookin’ at the merchandise, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Wanna make sure you ain’t damaged, that’s all--”

“I—I’m not!” The cute little burst of outrage is ruined somewhat by the yawn that you have to suppress in the middle of it, but Toji grins.

He didn’t think the Zenins would send you if you weren’t – they wouldn’t want to risk the precious possibility of a kid born with power and technique not really being one of theirs – but it’s nice to hear your mouth confirm what he’s been suspecting and hoping is the truth.

“Aw, baby girl,” he says, keeping his voice low and even, trying to comfort you even as his hand is sliding further up, cupping one of your breasts (his palm brushes your nipple and he feels it harden beneath his touch, stiffening to a peak – he wants to see what you look like under there so badly), “C’mon, it’s fine. I ain’t gonna hurt you--”

“M-Mr Zenin,” you say, and the tremble in your voice is so cute. His cock is straining against the boxer shorts he wore to sleep in. You’re wide awake now; your eyes meeting his. “I—I know, but--”

He’s on the bed. He doesn’t miss how your gaze strays to his veined forearms, where the muscles bulge in his biceps, the carefully sculpted and maintained abdomen and pecs – he sees the swallow in your throat, the way your cute little tongue reaches out to swipe nervously over your lower lip.

Thumb brushes your collarbone and you shudder, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation. He sees your thighs twitch, squeeze together – he’s willing to bet if he dipped his fingers into your slit right now, he’d pull his digits back out with your slick glimmering on them.

“Just call me Toji.”

“T-Toji—” Your voice pitches, shuddering with arousal that you don’t know how to handle. He’s heard that note in women’s voice before; that desperate ‘I want to be touched, but I know I shouldn’t want it’ wobble. He’s been the cause of it more times than he can count.

“S’okay,” he soothes, his other hand rounding over your hip, his knees nudging your legs apart. “You’re savin’ yourself for marriage, yeah? We’ll get the papers signed in the mornin’, I promise, botha our families are the kind to make sure things can be rushed through quick--”

“I—” You’re a little breathless, all needy and hot under his touch. It’s adorable. “I shouldn’t, please, it’s only a few days--”

“You want to.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement, as he curls his fingers about your hip, as he settles his own muscular thighs between yours and he sees that there’s a damp spot on the pale pink shorts. Soaked through your underwear and your nightwear? He forgot how sensitive virgins can be. “Don’t lie to yourself, angel.”

He leans down, scarred lips brushing yours. You taste like his toothpaste; peppermint on his tongue as he swipes it over your lower lip and you sigh as you allow him entrance. It’s the first mark of him on you, but he knows it won’t be the last. He deliberately presses his knee against your clothed mount, grinding it just a little – and you whimper into his mouth, heated and desperate.

“We’ll be married soon as,” he murmurs to you, pulling back, looking at you with lust darkening his eyes. No man has ever looked at you quite as hungrily as Toji is looking at you right now. And he’s so handsome, his touches gentle-- “You wanna be a good girl for me, right? S’just what a wife does for her husband, yeah?”

“Yes,” you breathe, and Toji grins at you. It’s a feral, starving grin, that you feel deep inside of you as you clench around nothing and burn to be touched.

He kisses you again, hungrier. He nips at your lower lip, his tongue roughly demanding entrance – he dances against your own. You’ve never really understood the idea of kissing with tongues, but Toji knows exactly what he’s doing; hitting a spot on the roof of your mouth that makes you shudder and gasp, your hands coming up to grasp his biceps.

The muscle underneath them is so solid, and Toji can’t help but notice how soft your hands are on him. He knows you’ll be that soft everywhere else, and the thought spurs him on.

“I’m gonna undress you now,” he tells you, thick and throaty. His big fingers curve under the hem of the lacy top you’re wearing, gently tugging it up over your stomach and then your breasts. That sharp green gaze caresses every newly bared inch of you, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Fuckin’ hell. You’re a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart.”

Your skin feels hot under the compliment, Toji’s flat palm sliding along the softness of your tummy to round over your breasts. Your nipples have pebbled and stiffened in the cool air of the spare room, and Toji flicks his thumb along one (making you shiver, again, he notices) before he bends his head to suckle the bud into his mouth, his tongue lapping at it in a way that has your back arching and thighs clenching.

He chuckles at the noise you make as his lips pop off, and he turns his attention to the other side.

“Responsive, ain’t ya?” He asks. “You’re adorable.”

You give him a trembling breath as a response, which he takes as a sign to begin a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses down from your breasts to your stomach, tongue tracing the shape of your navel, teeth grazing your hips so gently that you barely feel them. He takes the waistband of your shorts in his mouth and tugs those down using your teeth, and the vision of him between your legs like that--

“Ha,” he says, as his fingers reach to tug them, expertly manipulating your legs so he can get them off without moving from between them. “Careful there, darlin’. You’re gonna soak right through the sheets.”

His mouth, again – kissing firmly against the wet patch on your underwear, his breath fiery hot. His mouth is solid enough that you feel the jolt that goes through you as his nose pushes against your clit, even through the cotton. Toji almost smirks at how much of a cliché the white cotton underwear trimmed with pale pink lace is, but the scent of you is too heady for him to want to do anything but bury his head between your thighs.

Lower. He kisses all over your slit, hard enough that you jerk, ruing the barrier between you two. His thumb strokes circles into your inner thigh--

He seems content to kiss at you through the fabric – but really, he’s waiting for you to give in. To beg him to take them off. From just how wet his face is even with the barrier in his way, he doesn’t think it will be long – and you do not disappoint. You raise your whips, softly mewling;

“Please, I –”

“Please, what, darlin’?” He asks you. “C’mon, you can use your words – no secrets from your husband, right?”

“I—” You’re so cute, squirming and feeling like a slut for him. He loves it. He loves the tremble of your body and the fact that your eyes are glassy with need. “P-please take my underwear off, I wanna--” You swallow. “W-wanna feel without it--”

“Aww, y’should’ve just said so,” Toji says. Fingers pry beneath the gusset.

He doesn’t bother manipulating your body this time. He simply tugs hard enough to split the seams, the fabric delicate from being saturated in your slick.

(Doesn’t matter, anyway. While he’s home, you won’t be wearing underwear.)

You gasp at the display of strength, swallowing – and Toji grins at you again. Oh, you like that? He’s got more shows of strength where that came from, don’t you worry.

He props up your knees with his hands and says;

“Wrap your hands around these, keep your legs spread for me like a good girl, yeah?”

You nod, shyly averting your gaze as you do just that and the position spreads you open lewdly; your velvet-soft folds bared entirely to Toji’s hungry eyes.

You’re already absolutely dripping, but Toji can see that you’re nervous.

“Don’t worry,” he soothes you, again. He can’t help but notice how small you look; the pearl of your clit nestled between curling soft petals, your pulsing hole. He knows you’ll take him, but . . . fuck, he thinks you’ll be a stretch. Not that that’s a bad thing. “I’m gonna open you up, darlin’, alright?”

“Y-yeah,” your voice is tremulous, soft – and sends a throb right to his cock. It’s been straining against his boxer shorts since the moment he saw you, but your eyes all big and glossy with trust and the vulnerable position you’re in and the knowledge you have never been touched like this are really doing a number on it.

But fuck it, he’s not gonna hurt you more than he has to if he’s really going to keep you around. He gently spreads your plump labia lips even further apart with his fingers, so your clit stands swollen to attention. You shiver under his calloused fingers, as he leans in and a hot wash of breath fans over you.

Toji’s tongue darts out to lap a long, slow stripe from perineum to clit, and though he can’t see your face any more, he hears the way you whimper.

Another. He lets himself soak his face in your slick; lets his tongue get deep between your folds. You taste so good on his tongue; honey-sticky and sugar-sweet. The tip of the wet muscle gently flickers against your clit and your hands are suddenly wrapped in his hair, your chest heaving in sensitive gasps. You keep your legs raised, so he decides to be kind. He eases his lips off of you for a moment to mumble, amused;

“Don’t pull too hard, I’m too young to be losin’ my hair--”

Before he dives back in between your legs, once more licking and sucking at the tender flesh. Your stomach explodes in fireworks, your heart beating so fast you can hear it in your ears. Toji’s mouth and tongue against you is a wet, lascivious noise that at once makes your toes curl in pleasure and cringe in embarrassment. Is it awful and forward of you to be enjoying yourself like this? Your family have always drilled into you that a proper wife isn’t a slut, but still does what her husband wants--

Toji’s not your husband yet, but this is fine, right? To have him eating you out like you’re a desert oasis? His lips lock around your clit and he sucks and your vision whites out for a second, your hands tugging hard at the dark hair in your grip--

And he comes away with a light laugh that still manages to shiver with seduction. His face is shiny with you as he looks at you with eyes half-lidded and still hungry.

“What’d I say, huh?” He teases you. “Angel, I could have fucked you with my tongue all night--” He likes seeing how the crude words make you flinch, nervous but pleased but ashamed all warring within you. Your lips are pushed forward, the moue almost petulant. His voice drops a tone. “Don’t look at me with that cute pout. You don’t know what it does to me.”

If he didn’t still need to stretch you out using his fingers, he’d take a moment to kiss you so you could taste yourself and just how needy you’d been for him on his lips. But he’s still driving a hole through his boxers, so . . . the sooner you’re able to take him, the better.

You’ve gone back to holding your legs apart with your hands. Excellent.

Besides. He hadn’t finished what he was doing, and he thinks it’ll be easier to fuck you if you’ve already come once. Your poor, swollen clit hasn’t had all the attention it deserves. You’re being so cute, so well-behaved for him--

“Relax,” he says, softly, as he eases his fingers from spreading you open, dipping them in the mess he’s made of your slit. “This might sting a bit--”

One finger finds your hole; circles the sensitive entrance, making the muscles in your thighs tremble. But you keep your legs spread open for him like a good girl, and he’s able to gently push his index finger in, first to one knuckle, then to the second, and then to the ones at the base.

“Good girl,” he breathes, barely able to breathe at how tight you feel around him. Your insides are silky and hot and wet, clinging to him like a lifeboat in the sea. He pumps the lone finger in and out of you, rubbing the pad against the inside of your walls until he finds the spot that makes you throw your head back and give him a long, choked moan. “There we go,” he keeps talking to you, softly, like you’re a spooked animal. “’M gonna put the second one in, yeah? You’re takin’ it like a champ, sweetheart. You wanted this, huh?”

You babble something that he doesn’t care enough to listen to but overall sounds positive. This one’s a stretch, his middle finger and index finger even tighter. But he needs to get three in you, he thinks, or you’ll never take his cock. You let go of your thighs, and he sucks in a breath – but your feet clearly need purchase on the bed, your fingers twisting in bedsheets now they can’t twist in his hair, and you breathe through the stretch so he figures it’d be churlish to tell you off for it now.

He keeps hitting that spot as he fucks you slowly on his fingers, until he can feel your cunt sucking him in, pulsing around him.

“Third finger,” he tells you, his own throat dry. “Next time I fuck you with this one, you’ll feel my weddin’ ring--”

You tighten around the other two at that. Cute. Three fingers opening you wide, scissoring inside of you, aches – but you’re being so good for him, the most that’s coming out of your mouth sweet little whines. Toji rewards you by crooking them inside you against that spot, his thumb coming to gently rub circles into your swollen clit.

He’s been teasing you for too long, and you are a virgin – it’s no surprise that the stimulation proves too much for you too quickly, and you arch your back at the same time as fireworks go off inside of you, your cunt fluttering around his fingers, tightening and loosening as waves of euphoria wash over you.

You soak Toji’s fingers with the rush of your release; the gush of liquid.

He whistles, low and impressed. So you’re a squirter, huh? Toji doesn’t mind that at all. It’s not like he’ll be doing the laundry – and it’s kind of hot, to look down at you and see what a mess he’s made of your little virgin cunt--

“That’s it,” he says, guiding you over the last low crests of your orgasm. “I think y’can take me now, sweetheart. Let’s get you comfy--”

He shows off his strength a bit, because he knows it will get you going despite the sensitivity of your body from your recent orgasm. You’re man-handled by him higher on the bed, so your head is on the mountain of pillows you’ve slipped down. He can pick you up as if you weigh nothing at all, despite the creak of the bedsprings clearly saying the opposite.

Your legs are urged to wrap around his hips.

“Don’t worry,” he tells you, again. He doesn’t think he’s ever reassured a fuck as carefully and constantly as he’s reassuring you; but then again, he’s never intended to marry one of his fucks before.

You, though – you’re so adaptable. So untouched. So different from women and men who come onto him at bars and flutter eyelashes and make soft little insinuations. He can corrupt you into exactly what he wants, and the thought of you knowing nothing but his cock forever and serving him like he’s the only man in the world--

It’s enough to make a lesser man come in his pants.

“You’re tired, yeah? I’ll do most of the work. You lie there and take it like the sweetheart you are.”

He’s shucked his underwear off in the man-handling, and now he shifts so that you can see the full glory of what he’s packing. Your eyes widen.

He gets that a lot. Even for a virgin who’s probably never seen a cock before, it’s obvious that Toji’s the real deal – you swallow, nervous, and whisper;

“I—what if it doesn’t fit--?”

(There’s a tremble of fear in there, that you’ve fucked up; that he still might throw you aside if you can’t take him, and now you’ve been utterly ruined.)

“Hey,” he says, all comforting and appeasing, “I ain’t hurt you yet, have I?” You shake your head, but your bottom lip is still trembling. “I’m gonna go slow with you, I promise.” He shifts forward again, the head of his cock catching against your entrance. “Just keep your eyes on me, darlin’. I promise, it’ll feel so good . . . you wanna keep your husband happy, don’t ya? I’ve already got you all stretched and prepped. Just breathe--”

He keeps up the steady stream of talk as he urges his hips forward, your cunt swallowing the head of his cock first before he’s able to push more of his shaft in. You keep your eyes on his, green eyes locked against yours – and though he can hear the shake in your chest, you don’t make any noise louder than a huff when he gets two thirds of the way in. He pauses there for a minute, letting you adjust – he can feel every minute tremble of your body, swears he can hear your heartbeat.

“Good?” He asks, and you nod – and he slides the last third of himself inside you in the same unhurried pace, until he’s settled hot and heavy entirely inside of you.

His eyes map your stomach, pleasure rushing through him at how big he must be inside of you; there’s the lightest shadow on your pelvis, as if he’s big enough to make your stomach bulge. He takes in the sight of you with all nine inches of him buried inside of you; the sore, spread-wide stretch of your cunt around him, the creamy ring of your pleasure where you’re joined.

He can’t fuck you vigorously – he thinks he’d fucking breakyou - but you’re tight enough that he’s getting plenty of stimulation just from keeping his cock in there.

“P-please,” you manage to form, through your swollen lips and your glassy eyes and your dry throat. “W-want you to fuck me, Toji--”

Oh, fucking hell.

You’re perfect.

“I will, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he instinctively leans down and presses a kiss on your sweat-soaked forehead, flexing his hips so they withdraw the smallest amount. “Just lie there and take it for me--”

You do.

He doesn’t fuck into you with abandon, though he wants to more than he can say; plenty of time for that in the future, as your cunt moulds to his cock and it isn’t such an effort to get it inside of you. Plenty of time for you to learn just how hard he wants to rail you, until you’re covered in his bruises and there are friction burns on your knees – plenty of time for him to show you every depraved thing you make him want to do to you and make sure that you enjoy it.

He fucks you with slow, shallow strokes, taking most of his pleasure from the way you feel around of him; your eyes, your mouth, your heaving chest. You’re hot and tight and wet and grip him perfectly – his fingers digging into your thighs where they’re wrapped around his hips.

He’s been hard for what seems like hours, so it’s no surprise, either, that he feels his orgasm come quickly up on him like a steam train – it’s not like you’re going to shame him for coming quickly, you’ve never even been fucked before. So he lets the heat all gather low in his belly until he can feel himself teetering on the edge – and then, he dips his head and pulls you into a heated kiss as he grinds his hips in a circular motion inside of you and feels himself tip over the precipice.

His cock shudders and judders inside of you, shooting rope after rope of his come deep into your body; thick and hot and full. His teeth worry at your bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood, the groan vibrating through you as he comes and pushing you into another short, trembling orgasm as if trying to milk him dry of everything that he can give you.

(You like him coming inside? He can work with that too.)

Your thighs are tight around his hips, your arms draping loosely about his neck as he kisses you. Your tongue nervously probes at the scar; the slightly raised line bisecting his mouth, and though he usually doesn’t like it being noticed or touched (he knows it gives him an air of danger, but sometimes the events surrounding it’s acquirement sting), he finds that with you he doesn’t mind.

With you, his eyes flicker closed and he just enjoys the closeness and warmth of your body, even as he gently pulls his cock out of you (you leak slick onto the bedsheets, again. He’s gonna have to buy some more laundry tablets).

“How’s that, darlin?” He murmurs to you, not moving from his comfortable place on top of you. “Glad y’didn’t save it for marriage now, huh?”

Your cheeks radiating heat is enough answer for him, Toji’s smirk so wide and smug that it threatens to split his face in two. He flops to one side of you, pulling you in, cradling you against him like a little spoon. He can’t help but notice that the curve of your body fits perfectly against his.

The two of you will fit even better in Toji’s bed, he thinks.

“We’ll get all the paperwork and shit sorted tomorrow,” he tells you, as he feels your breathing begin to even out, the tremors from your orgasm begin to fade. He could get used to this too. Someone warming his bed. Someone to cuddle up to on cold nights. Someone soft, to ease the loneliness he hadn’t realised he was feeling.

He doesn’t want to get sappy on you, though. He lowers his face to the shell of your ear, breathing gently, murmuring in a voice that’s still dripping with desire for everything you represent to him;

“The other stuff that goes with a marriage too. I wasn’t kiddin’ about wantin’ to finger you with my wedding ring on, darlin’.”

—𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

pairing: half-dragon emperor!zhongli x afab!reader

w/c: 2.9k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact

disclaimer: there is no pronouns for reader but they are afab, reader is a concubine, emperor au, slight angst, some guizhong x zhongli, monster-fucking, zhongli has some patches os scales, horns and fangs, tongue fucking, zhongli’s tongue grows, cunniligus, breeding, dick bulge, zhongli has a unique dick, marking, mention of blood, size kink, full nelson, overstimulation, dacryphila, implied size kink, reader passes out, unedited

summary: after being gifted with immortality after being exchanged to becoming one of the emperor’s concubines, you noticed he is acting very strange this springtime.

a/n: this is my first submission for my monsterfucker may collab! I hope you guys enjoy it

The empire known as Liyue was an extremely prosperous nation, holding many luxuries as trade seemingly thrived. The emperor, Zhongli, was always celebrated, triumphing and gaining more land, more gold and more commodities for his people.

He was ethereal, untouchable to so many people. People couldn’t believe he was human, but only a few people on the other side of the large pearly gates of his palace knew otherwise. Regardless of his humanistic face and body, a dragon lay underneath it—strong, powerful, and unforgiving.

“Pardon, the emperor, has requested to see you. He’s currently in his chambers,” a servant murmured towards you. His esteemed secretary, Ganyu, gave you a small smile. She was always timid and reserved, doing her tasks to perfection regardless of whatever ridiculous request other concubines would ask of her. As a sigh escaped your lips, you nodded your head getting up from your place at your desk.

Although the emperor has thrived for years, the blood staining his hand had known heartbreak and hurt. The emperor once had a wife—the beautiful, kind, collected Guizhong. She did her best to let the culture of Liyue thrive as Zhongli focused on his countless battles. Art, calligraphy, music, dance—Liyue owed a lot to her.

The sweet white-haired empress fell ill though, a disease unknown and incurable despite the many doctors Zhongli commissioned from around the world. It was said, he refused to be there when she took her last break, soft ruby eyes of her going dull.

In order to get worried nobles and artisans off of his back, Zhongli soon created the concubine system. Beautiful women from the various regions of Liyue soon flocked and decorated the once barren palace. Still, Zhongli did not indulge them—hiding away in his studies. It had been a millennium since her passing, and yet he closed the world and his heart off.

You were sure why you were chosen as a concubine either. You were from Liyue, only a traveler that was down on their luck. As you were on the ground, trying to recover some strength from walking hours—golden laid down on you. His expression was unreadable, his hand reaching out towards you.

And you took it without a second thought, not once fearing the monster in a human disguise.

Instead of rags, lay fine silk covering your form. Instead of dirt, jewels decorated your body. Instead of mortality, you were blessed to be immortal. You even had specialized servants there to listen to your every need.

And like the others, he did not touch you once in all these years.

“Thank you for letting me know Ganyu, I’ll be on my way,” you replied. As you left your abode, the halls of the palace seemed more deserted than usual. It always seemed to have someone hanging out there, drinking wine, chatting, etc.—yet none of that could be seen. Your stomach churned as you headed towards the east wing of the estate.

Something just didn’t seem right.

Your face felt warm when you finally discovered where he was in his chambers. The emperor was in a bath. His eyes were closed, long hair drifting down the milky water like a stream. Flowers floated among it as the smell of glaze lilies drifted heavily in the air.

“...Please join me in the other tub. The servants have already added milk, honey, and flowers. I hope it is to your liking,” his deep voice reverberated. Your eyes drifted down momentarily, your heart throbbing in your chest. Zhongli had not touched you once, and now he wished to see you bare in a tub next to his.

The contract you signed in mystic golden ink flashed in your head.

You chose this title. You accepted being his concubine for his luxuries and royalties. He must finally want his share of his agreement.

You slowly took off the sash of your hanfu, letting the various expensive fabrics fall on the tile floor. A shiver took over your body as it tried to adjust to the sudden temperature. You swiftly headed towards the bath, sinking into the sweet water with a loud plop. Water sloshed around before it finally calmed and adjusted to your sudden change.

The water was warm, as it tried to tempt your body to relax. You couldn’t though, not when the emperor was in the tub next to you—eyes still closed.

“You wanted me, my lord,” you murmured. He let out a deep sigh, nose slightly whistling before finally letting his eyes open. Those pupils of his always pierced your own—golden like the sun shaped as if it were a citrine gemstone on top of honey-hued irises.

Your eyes narrowed gazing at a patch seemingly glowing from the light of the window. A patch of golden scales lay on his cheek. Was he beginning to shed his human disguise? You have not once seen the scale on his skin before. Even though you knew of his status, he never showed any of those traits openly like this.

“Zhongli, are you alright? I apologize if I’m speaking out of term, but you don’t seem to be acting like yourself,” your murmured. You caved in to the water hearing him chuckle, almost amused at your statement.

“Do you think so, I think I’m actually beginning to act like myself, my dear,” he replied. My dear? That was new too…

Zhongli rose from the tub, letting his nude form be free to your gaze. As much as you were tempted to turn away, your eyes lay focused on his cock. He was big and so thick. He was fully erect as well. Patches of various scales were scattered at different parts of his body too.

“M-Zhongli!” you stammered out, getting up from the tub as well. Zhongli could only smile, gaze darkening in lust and desire at your form. He slowly got closer to you, large hands holding your side on the base of the bathtub. You could feel sharp nails poking where he felt you, as he leaned in closer—lips whispers away from yours. Your lips quivered at the anticipation, feeling his soft lips hover on top of yours.

“Are you still alright with this, I didn’t clear you from your busy schedule did I,” he murmured. You nodded your head

“N-No…but, I don’t mind. This is what I agreed to when you saved me that day Zhongli,” you whispered back. Zhongli only grunted, capturing your lips finally. As your eyes fluttered closed, you noticed how rough he was, almost taking your breath away in the process. His lips parted, letting his tongue come and savor you. His hands had begun trailing up and down your curves as well, as if memorizing the way your skin felt underneath his touch.

You felt something slightly painful beginning to poke at your bottom lip. The familiar taste of iron hit your tongue. Zhongli leaned out, letting you get a glimpse of the long canines protruding from his teeth. Your eyes widened, noticing the horns that also materialized on the sides of his head.

His human disguise was really beginning to dissipate.

His lips only curled into a smirk, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek before littering them slowly and slowly to your form—your neck, your shoulder, your breasts, your naval, your thigh—letting that sweet taste of honey and milk stain those petal-like lips of his.

He moved your legs wider, getting a better look at your entrance. Your body shivered, feeling his lips connect with your clit, the familiar sensation of pleasure was beginning to burn inside of you. His tongue prodded out, beginning to swipe his tongue along the bundle of nerves, groaning as he could feel your juices beginning to leak out and coat your folds.

“Mmm. I don’t know whether this is from the bath but you taste so sweet my dear,” he murmured out as a moan coaxed out of you as your hands darted up to reach his horns, tightly gripping them to stay steady. His eyes flickered up to you momentarily in surprise only to close once more to properly savor his meal.

Zhongli sucked hard on your clit, lifting it up with the amount of fervor he had, watching it jump back into place once he finally let it go. His tongue maneuvered around the bud too, only drifting away at times to go back and flicker along the actual nub.

His fingers traveled to both of your folds, stretching you out wider for him to continue his abuse on your clit. His tongue slowly drifted down to your puckering hole, pushing it inside as his fingers replaced where his lips once were.

“H-How is this possible. F-Fuck!,” you moaned out. Your eyes blew wide, squirming under his grasp as you felt his tongue reach deeper and deeper inside of you. Your walls fluttered, clamping down at his inhumanely long tongue hitting the deepest parts of you. Your body shook as the pleasure began getting overwhelming for you. With slow, meticulous circles rubbing along your throbbing clit and his tongue somehow curving up and hitting that other sensitive part inside of you.

Your legs caved in his heavy, pushing his face deeper in your crotch with your grip still on his horns. You could feel his lips forming a smirk, as his factions began going faster and faster. His tongue drilled in and out of you, fingers rapidly rubbing your clit. He was slurping loudly, your essence dripping down on the tile.

“M’gonna. M’gonna. Zhongli!!!” you screamed out, back-arching as you finally reached your peak. With your tear-pricked eyes rolled back, your body convulsed trying to recover from the immense orgasm that just rocked you.

When Zhongli finally raised his head away from your hole, your half-lidded eyes noticed his tongue was normal, swiping your slick coating his fingers. His cheeks held a rosy hue, almost as if he was shy all of a sudden. As you let your back fall backward, Zhongli quickly held an arm out, cradling you in them.

“Are you alright?” he murmured out. A flash of confusion hit your expression. You wondered why he was being so attentive and caring, for someone who seduced you not even 10 minutes ago.

“Y-Yeah…” you croaked out. Zhongli sighed once more, eyes drifting down to the floor. His gaze hardened, grip on you getting tighter.

“...I want to apologize. I lost my composure and ended up dragging you into this. I did not wish for you, or anyone to see this side of myself,” Zhongli murmured. You didn’t respond, only drifting your hands up and pressing it on the patch of scales on his cheek. His eyes momentarily widened but softened as he leaned against your touch.

“Spring is a beautiful season for almost everyone. The bitterness of the cold is gone, there is a new harvest and treats to eat, even the glaze lilies I adore so much bloom beautifully at this time,” Zhongli hummed with a slight smile. His lips soon after curved down, eyebrows furrowed in frustration and sadness.

“But it’s a reminder that as much as I’d like to be human, I’m not. Humans don’t go through ruts. Humans don’t lose themselves in lust. Humans don’t have an unbeatable desire as I do,” he sighed.

“Most years I have managed to close myself off and deal with my…issues alone, but I noticed you outside walking around the garden in the window and I completely lost control. I sincerely apologize from the bottom of my heart for putting you through that. Let’s get you up and hydrated. I’m sure Ganyu is already worried and will gladly take care of you—”

“But who's going to take care of you, my lord?” you whispered. Zhongli flattened his lips, not answering your question. The patch of scales under your touch was jarring, they were rough and juxtaposed against the rest of his soft smooth skin.

“...I don’t mind assisting. I agreed to take care of your needs when I signed that contract years ago Zhongli. Let me do this for you for everything you’ve done for me…” you murmur back to him. Zhongli gulped, fighting a subconscious battle with himself, before pressing a kiss on your thigh.

“You know I won’t be this calm and gentle when I lose myself again. This is a temporary moment of tranquility…” he replied back. You chuckled, lifting your lips to his forehead.

“I figured as much…”

His lips captured your once more, as you laid in his bed. His hips were grinding into your core, you could feel just how hard he was rubbing it along your glistening folds. As he lifted his head from your bruised lips, you noticed his eyes had changed—diamonds becoming slits.

Even his dick had transformed as well, looking more monstrous than before. It now had a gradient, his pale skin turning into an obsidian hue. The symbol of Liyue, of his element, of geo glowed. Even his muscular arms favored that obsidian color, with golden geometric lines decorating the sides of it. Translucent precum formed at the black head, ridges now decorated the base of his cock.

“I’m going to breed you…fill you up again and again. Remember, you’re the one that decided to stay and deal with this side of me,” he growled lowly in your ear. He leaned in close to you, hands clasping tightly at your hips.

The head of his cock pressed into your entrance back and forth trying to find a way for it to fit in. Your body jolted as he slowly entered inside of you. You sucked a breath in, feeling him stretch you out wider and wider as he slipped in deeper. Tears pricked your eyes once more, you weren’t a virgin but he was too big for you not to experience some kind of pain and discomfort.

Sensing the pain, Zhongli growled once more letting his fingers swirl against your clit once more trying to distract you from the pain. A moan escaped your lips as he eventually bottomed out, tip hitting against your cervix. You never felt so full in your life, your hand pressing against the new bulge on your stomach.

Not even giving you time to get used to him, Zhongli began thrusting hard inside of you. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, fingers digging into the silk. The bed squeaked and moaned, wood hitting against the wall with the rapid pace he had set.

His lips connected with your neck, sucking and nibbling the skin. His fangs had returned once more, poking you every so often. Your gummy walls squeezed tight feeling the ridges of his cock rub against that mouth-watering spot inside of you. Your legs wrapped around his waist in a futile attempt for him to get even deeper.

“M’M-Zhongli,” you moaned. Your body quivered once more, reaching an orgasm. His jaw clenched firmly, heavy balls slapping against your ass. A low groan came from him as his warm, thick cum spurted inside of you. A ring of white decorated his cock as he continued fucking the cum deep within you.

“More. More. I need more…” Zhongli groaned. Your tired eyes widened as you were flipped over. He now laid under you, his forearms lifted up your legs lifting up your rapidly pounding into you. Your walls only squeezed tighter, as his previous cum began slipping out and falling on his sheets.

Your hand pressed against his own that was rubbing his clit before you found yourself reaching another high. Tears were cascading down your cheeks as how overwhelmed and overstimulated you were. Your clit burned, still being rapidly rubbed against as a wave of pure exhaustion hit your body. You were becoming so tight that he could barely thrust inside of you. Zhongli growled, letting himself cum inside you once more.

Things began drifting after Zhongli came again. You were repeatedly flipped, handled, and fondled in different positions—with him cumming inside of you again and again. You started losing count of just how many times he had done it.

Gold that once enveloped the room turned to navy as you finally got a barring of your surroundings again. Lips were pressing against the various marks and bruises that now adorned your body and your lower half burned in dull pain. As you tried to move, you whined as the dull pain became much sharper.

“Shhh…easy there. Let me just clean up the rest of this on your legs and I’ll get you some water alright?” Zhongli murmured. That sweet smile was on his lips again, as a damp rag wiped off the leftover cum staining your body.

“Z-Zhongli?” you whispered out in confusion. Zhongli only chuckled, reaching over to a glass of water and placing it on your slightly chapped lips. You slowly drank the water, letting the cool liquid lubricate your once dry throat.

“I told you when I’m like that I lose all sense of myself. Still…thank you for sticking by me. No one has done that for me before,” Zhongli murmured, pressing his lips against your forehead. You leaned your head against his, eyes feeling heavy once more. Zhongli’s hand placed itself on your lower stomach with a small smile.

“...I think it may be time this nation sees a new Empress anyway. How do you feel about that?” Zhongli murmured. You whined, closing your eyes again as exhaustion took over you. Zhongli could only chuckle, noting to get you properly fed and checked out once you wake up from his arms. He could only play with the strains of your hair, bringing it up to his lips.

“...Because I think that’s a splendid idea…”

୨♡︎୧ You Got Me Thinking Nonsense ୨♡︎୧

୨♡︎୧ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

୨♡︎୧ Summary: You're Suguru Geto's little sister, which means you've dealt with both him and his best friend Satoru Gojo being overprotective little shits for most your life. You've also been in love with Satoru Gojo that long, but he sees you as nothing but his best friend's little sister. Finally taking the steps to move on from the delusion, you decide to go on a date with a sweet boy from college, Yuuta. Only... then Satoru seems furious, even as Suguru finally approves of a boy. You wonder why he cares, and he wonders why seeing you with someone makes him sick to his stomach. Is Satoru, this overbearing best friend of your brother, actually into you?

୨♡︎୧ CW- MDNI/NSFW- Reader is 20, Satoru is 24- Reader is Suguru's lil sis, you're down bad forever, Gojo is a dick but lowkey sweet. Explicit sexual content, oral (m&f recieving) porn w/feelings and a lil plot, mutual pining, loss of virginity (reader's) rough sex, creampie, Satoru being a cocky lil shit. (Yuuta and reader go on a date but it's SFW, and just to make Satoru jealous) Wordcount 11.6k

୨♡︎୧ Comments/reblogs very appreciated if you enjoy!! ୨♡︎୧ Also happy birthday Satoru!! 🎂

You’ve had a crush on Satoru Gojo for as long as you can remember, there are just two big problems. Problem one- his best friend is your brother.

Being Suguru Geto’s little sister was not for the weak, he constantly chases any man off, big and strong and intimidating, your entire life. Even more so now, that your parents are gone, and even though you’re now in college, he doesn’t care, in fact he’s even more ridiculous. He not only scares every guy off, he is constantly dragging you around with him.

Every outing he goes to, he never lets you just go alone, even though you’re now twenty years old and he’s only twenty four. He acts a million years older than you, and he’s the most overprotective brother you can imagine. He feels it’s his responsibility to take care of you, he doesn’t even see you as an adult. You know he just loves you, but it’s overwhelming lately.

 There’s also another problem- Satoru Gojo is a dick to you.

He’s never done anything but pick on you, ruffle your hair and call you a baby, a little brat, little kid when you’re a whole ass adult, and all you can do is drool over him, all these years. Satoru was a little shithead to you, all through your teen years when you wanted to hang out, he’d throw you out of their room, he’d pick on you, pinch you. Why you feel something for that ass you don’t know.

You’d pined away so long, but finally Satoru has set you off.

You’d been dressed up to go out with your friends, sporting a little crop top and a pleated mini skirt, fishnet stockings with boots. You looked cute as fuck, spinning in the mirror nervously, Satoru has surely never seen you in this way, you think, in a lacy bustier like this, body on full display. You stepped down the stairs, and his icy blue eyes had gone wide.

He’d had pink on his cheeks, lips parted as you walked down, and you think to yourself, it’s like every movie, your moment. The moment Satoru would see you’re not some little girl, you’re not just Suguru’s little sister, you’re a whole ass woman, grown and your own person. And when his eyes trailed down your body, you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

He’s just sputtering when you bounce down the last step, smiling up at him, fuck he’s pretty, and he just gets better looking every year it seems. You’ve had it bad since you were ten years old, and he was fourteen, even then he’d been so tall and pretty, and even then he’d been a little shit to you. You’d gone from being jealous of him getting your brother’s attention to craving his attention.

“What do you think, Toru?” You ask now, and he clears his throat, blush creeping further up his cheeks, nothing like the confident, cocky jock he and Suguru were, the sureness of them with any ladies, who fawned over them.

“What now?” Is all he manages, as you lean forward a bit, hands behind your back, and your breasts on full display for the tall, white haired man you can’t stop thinking of in the worst ways.

“How do I look?” You ask now, feeling your cheeks heat up when those insane blue eyes stare at you, framed by a fringe of snowy lashes.

“How you look…” He trails off now, opening his glossy ass lips again, it’s not fair for a man to have such glossy lips or lush lashes, truly.

“Mmhmm. New outfit.” You do a little spin, popping a foot out then. “New boots. I think they’re so cute.”

“The boots… mmm.” He is staring at your fishnet clad thighs now, exhaling, blinking as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Um. They’re fine.”

You blink now. “And I look?”

“Fine I guess.” He looks off, before looking back directly at you, glaring now, while you feel yourself close to fucking tears. “But you know Suguru won’t let you out like that, all… are these even clothes, brat?” Satoru tugs on your mini skirt, you smack his hand now, scowling.

“Yes they’re clothes! I’m an adult, he can’t tell me what to wear anymore.”

“An adult, hmm. Still a little brat.” He ruffles your hair and you smack his hands again, glaring now. “Go put on a hoodie or something.”

“You know what, fuck you Gojo.” He blinks now, before glaring back.

“Fuck me? No sweetheart.” You gasp, stepping back, feeling the tears start to form in your eyes. “Don’t… why are… are you crying?”

“N-no!” You turn now, swiping at your eyes, taking a breath, he literally turned you down, stone cold. How stupid were you?

Suddenly you feel a big jacket on you, and you hate how good it smells, that expensive, musky cologne Satoru wears, the one that drips money. Suguru did very well for you both, but Satoru had come from money, and you could see it in everything, from his Gucci shades, to his Givenchy clothes, and his Rolex watches, including this damn cologne probably $100 a spray.

You hate that it makes your tummy clench with need when he’s standing behind you, feeling his body heat almost, drawing you in and tempting to no end. You also hate that you find your thoughts drifting to him when you play with yourself, even when you have so many twitter links pulled up, no, it’s still him.

And now?

“I don’t want your jacket.” You say, slipping it off, and for a moment his long fingers touch your bare shoulders, you have to bite your lip at how good it fucking feels, a touch from him.

“You’ll get cold.” His voice is husky, a voice already deep and sensual naturally, now it sounds like pure sex.

“What do you care?”

“I’m your brother’s best friend, we both-”

“I don’t care, I’m not a kid! You’re barely older than me.” You turn now, shoving his letterman’s jacket in his hands, wishing instead you could stay in it forever, but he’s never going to see you differently, you realize now.

Never.

“What’s going on, you two bickering?” Suguru comes out now, and glares when he sees you. “Excuse me young lady, no. Get changed now.”

“Young lady my ass, Suguru you are barely older!”

“You’re still a little-”

“I am not a little kid. I’m over it. I’ll wear whatever I want.” Now Suguru is following you, he’s throwing his own coat over your shoulders, as Satoru is snickering, making you even angrier. “No!”

“Some creep will try to grab you, or worse. Where are you going, and who are you going with?” He turns you to him, violet eyes assessing your face, as if you’re some lying little kid. You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

“I’m going out with my friends, I’m an adult, I have a car and a licence, shit I work at college! Maybe I should live at the dorm.”

“No, you will not. It’s not safe, you don’t know what kind of guys are there.”

“I’m grown, Suguru.”

He blinks now, violet eyes emotional, making you feel like shit. “You’re my responsibility.”

“I don’t need to be. Now here.” You take off his jacket, and Satoru stomps up now, shoving it back on you. “Oh fuck off somewhere, Satoru, go enjoy some boyfriend time while I’m gone.”

“I’m not gay!” He says, and you smile meanly.

“Sure you’re not.”

“Just because I don’t find annoying little brats like you attractive doesn’t mean I’m gay now.” You blink again, stepping back, and Satoru rolls his eyes.

“Lots of people think I’m pretty.”

“That’s why you should wear actual clothes. And why would Satoru find you attractive, you’re like family to him. You’re a little sister to him.”

“Fuck both of you. I’m not coming home tonight, don’t wait up.” You stomp out to your car, flipping them both off from your tinted windows as you drive to your best friend’s house to go out. Of course Suguru is protective, but Satoru!?

A little sister huh.

After that night last week, you have decided you damn sure will go out with someone finally. You have a date tonight with your classmate in college, Yuuta, he was sweet and a gentleman, there was no way Suguru could find fault with him. And if he did, so what, and if Satoru did!? So what.

You take the pictures you have collected of Satoru and shove them in that shoebox, the one with all the love letters you’ve written him and never sent, and kick the box under your bed frame. Fuck that, fuck him, it’s not as if he ever thought of you any different, it’s like every stupid moment was imagined.

Now you’re dressed tonight in a pretty little black dress and red bottomed heels, red lipstick on and your hair done up, earrings glittering and dangling as you catch your reflection. You tend to have a bit of a baby face, you always have, but how you look tonight is mature, womanly, body showcased but it’s still covered enough Suguru can’t say shit.

You hear the door knock, and you panic, knowing the two of them are going to try to scare Yuuta away, so you dart down the stairs, only to trip, Satoru sees you and catches you so quick you are left breathless. You’re cursing yourself for being so damn clumsy, as his hands are on your back, arms wrapped around you, steadying you to the floor.

When you’re in Satoru Gojo’s arms, you forget he’s an asshole, you forget everything but how good it feels, for him to hold you like this, feeling his steady heart thrumming against your breasts. Your nipples perk up at being pressed on his hard body, your tummy tightens at how badly you want him, when your eyes lock and you see his blush again.

You’ve seen Satoru blush a few times, but especially recently, it just makes him look more attractive even. Fuck he’s the bane of your existence. When he sets you down, his hands linger for just a moment too long, addling your psyche, wrecking your thoughts to just let him go, let the idea go.

His eyes glide down your body, mouth open, and you brace for whatever stupid comment he is going to say, but Suguru comes over then with Yuuta, and he actually smiles at you now. Yuuta has his jaw dropped, quickly clearing his throat as he clutches flowers he’s brought, earning Satoru scowling at him, for no good reason.

“You look so beautiful…” Yuuta says your name softly, brushing back his dark hair, giving a tired little smile, making you flushed under the praise, so nice to hear after constantly being around two assholes.

“Oh thank you so much, sorry I’m so clumsy.” Your heels click on the tile as you walk to him, taking the flowers and inhaling their sweet scent. “Oh you didn’t have to do this at all!”

“Nonsense, of course I did. Do you like lilies?”

“I do!”

“She likes sunflowers.” Satoru grumbles, earning a look of shock from you, and a curious look from Suguru. “Well she has them all over her shit, and wears them all the time.”

How did he notice that about you?

“I love them, thank you.” You lean forward, kissing his cheek, feeling Satoru’s eyes rip through you. Suguru tenses now, stepping between you both, and you sigh, shaking your head. “Do you want to get to know Yuuta before we go out?”

“I sure would. C’mon, kid.” Yuuta looks at you nervously with his sad brown eyes, and you smile encouragingly.

“I’m twenty?”

“Kid.” Satoru says, snorting, you glare at him.

“You all act old as fuck, I swear. Yuuta they’re not even a couple years older, and don’t be scared. He’s a softie.” You nudge Suguru, he snorts, inclining his head. “May the force be with you.”

“I really like you.” Yuuta says with a grin, and you giggle, watching Suguru drag him for ‘a drink and a talk’ aka- how your brother tries to scare everyone.

You are giddy as you look at the gorgeous flowers, heading to the kitchen to find something to put them in. You set the flowers on the counter, tiptoeing in your heels, to try to reach the cabinet. Satoru’s behind you suddenly, you feel his hard body against you, right against your ass, and you damn near trip into the counter, as he reaches up and grabs a vase.

“You show off.” You huff. “Must be nice being a giant.”

“It’s pretty nice up here. Air quality.” He’s grinning, and it makes your tummy do flips, you look away, taking the vase to the sink.

“Thanks. They’re beautiful, hmm?” The water is sloshing gently, filling the vase up halfway, Satoru stops you then. “What?”

“If you clip them diagonally they stay fresh longer.” He snatches up the kitchen scissors, of course he knows where everything is, Satoru is here more than he’s home. He uses those long elegant fingers to unsnap the rubber band the flowers are in, starting to clip the green stems.

“How do you know these things?” You ask curiously, he shrugs a broad shoulder, that dress shirt stretching over those muscles.

“I remember my mom doing it when she’d get roses.”

“Oh, that’s sweet.”

“I guess.” Satoru clears his throat, like Suguru and you, his parents were gone, which you believe is why Suguru and him were so very close, amongst other reasons, you’ve never seen two people closer. Even you and Suguru aren’t.

“I bet she was beautiful.” You say then, and he pauses, putting the flowers in the vase and arranging them.

“What makes you say that?”

“Look at you. Gotta be strong genetics. Oh thank you.” Satoru hands you the pretty vase now, eyes drifting down your body quickly before looking away.

“She was beautiful.” He says then, softly, and you feel it, his pain emanating. It is as if you feel it yourself. You gently put a hand on his shoulder, feeling him tense at the contact.

“I shouldn’t have brought that up…”

“No, just… I don’t like to think about it.”

“I get it.”

“Yeah I know you do.” His hand comes on yours, and for a moment you pause there, and you wonder… does he see you as the woman you are? He eases your hand off his shoulder, patting your head again with a smile, a gesture he has always shown you, and it makes you emotional.

Will you ever let this fantasy go? He just doesn’t see you.

You gulp now, looking away to where Suguru is actually laughing, and Yuuta smiles nervously at you. “Knew he’d love him.”

“You never dated. What’s the rush?” Satoru asks casually, leaning on the counter with hands in his pockets.

I want to get over you, that’s what.

“I’m twenty, Satoru. I know you think I’m a kid, but I’m not. I want things… to be desired, to be close to someone.” Your voice is quiet, Satoru’s snowy lashes lower. “I want someone to make me feel beautiful.”

Satoru swipes a hand over his face, shaking his head and stiffening. “You are-”

“Okay, okay, I like him.” Suguru says, and you bounce up and down, hugging your brother, he kisses your head and sighs. “You’re allowed.”

“You can’t tell me what to do anyway.” You stick out your tongue. “But, I’m glad you approve. Yuuta, you’re brave.” Yuuta laughs a bit, hugging you by the waist, Satoru’s eyes dart right there, jaw tensing when Yuuta’s fingers press into the nip at your waist.

“I like him too. What was your name?” Yuuta asked, and Satoru walks up, holding out his hand.

“Gojo.” He says, then he squeezes the shit out of Yuuta’s hand, smirking, but Yuuta squeezes right back, and Gojo blinks. “Damn, strong kid.”

“We’re not children, stop acting like the Golden girls. All right, you ready?” You ask, and Yuuta nods. “We’re out!”

“Don’t be out late.” Satoru says, narrowing his eyes, you laugh out loud.

“Oh jesus. I’ll be back when I get back, maybe go home, Satoru?”

“You need a jacket.” Satoru says now, and Suguru nods.

“You do need a jacket.”

“I’m fine!” Yuuta grabs his jacket off, slinging it over your shoulders, you smile gratefully, and you see your brother smile at you too.

“Have fun kids.” You roll your eyes as you walk out, hand in hand with Yuuta, and it feels nice, his presence, how interested he is.

“Not too much fun.” Satoru’s words are terse, however, not teasing. You peer back at him for a moment as Yuuta opens the door for you, blue eyes glinting in the dark night, before sliding in and shoving him in the back of your mind.

Yuuta is the sweetest, and you want to feel those butterflies, maybe you do a bit, but you can’t get Satoru out of your damn head. It’s like he’s right there, you’re unable to get rid of him, even having so much fun, even enjoying yourself like this, you can’t stop thinking of how he looked at you, how he almost seemed sad.

But how can he be?

Yuuta is walking you up now, you hand him his jacket he’d placed back on you, smiling as you stand in front of your door, he takes your hand and pulls you just a bit closer. “I had so much fun.” He says.

“I did too, so much. Should we…”

“Do it again?”

“Yeah?” He nods with a smile, tired eyes lighting up. You nervously step even closer, and his hands rest on your waist, you both stare at each other in the quiet night, hearing the distant sounds of cars whirling on the road, a gentle breeze brushing against your skin.

You’ve kissed of course, but it’s been little hidden kisses at parties you’ve snuck out to, or sneaking around at school, Suguru had been that strict with you. So you haven’t gone past it, despite your never ending sources of smut and porn links - you’re very thankful that you have a big house and Suguru is nowhere near your room- when you take care of things.

But… Yuuta’s hands slipping up and down your back are feeling good, when he leans down, you lean in and meet his lips, soft and gentle. You exhale, wrapping your arms around his neck, and his hands are pressing into your hips now, bringing you flush against him. His tongue slips in your mouth, and you gasp a bit at it, at how sensual he is with you.

“Is this all right?” He asks softly, pulling back for a moment, you nod, dragging him back down for more, until he’s pressing you against the wall, kissing down your neck, tickling your skin, earning a little moan. “Oh you’re so sexy.”

“Me, sexy?” You giggle, and he nods, eyes dilated when he’s cupping your cheek with one hand.

“Very. Beautiful. I am not usually so forward.” He pulls back just a bit, you bite your lower lip, hands running up his chest now.

“I like it, Yuuta.” He kisses you again, hands brushing down the sides of your breasts. “Mmm, Suguru will kill you.”

“It’s worth it.” You giggle again, letting his kisses wash through you, his sweet words, his touch, but your mind is flitting to Satoru, you almost feel terrible, but how can you? It’s not like he’s a possibility…

You wish you weren’t so pathetic for him.

“I can’t invite you in, they’d lose it.” You murmur, his hands are slipping lower down your back, looking at you for permission, you nod and now they’re slipping up your thighs, sliding your silky dress up, baring your thighs. Fuck it feels good, being so desired, and he’s such a good kisser…

“I could sneak in your window.” He teases, you grin, shaking your head, but feeling the thrill of him touching you, thumb brushing over your hip, toying with the elastic of your panties, you cry out softly just against his lips, when the door opens, and Satoru Gojo stands right there, keys in his hand.

You pause, he’s wide eyed as he sees you like that, Yuuta pulls back, clearing his throat, earning Satoru stepping up to you, grabbing your arm. “Time for good night, I think?”

“Whatever, aren’t you leaving?” You shrug your arm out of his hold, and Yuuta is bright fucking red, taking your hand and kissing it.

“Text me?” He asks, you nod then, smiling and stepping to him, kissing him right in front of Satoru, a brush of the lips but still, you feel something so petty doing it.

Maybe he’ll see you’re a woman.

Yuuta is so sweet and perfect, you wonder if you’ll one day shove those thoughts of Satoru far enough away. “Good night, Yuuta, I will.”

“Good night, beautiful.” You feel your cheeks heat up at it, turning when he heads inside his car, and bumping right into Satoru.

“Shit… go on, I’m safe.” You say, shoving past him, but he doesn’t move, glaring down at you now, towering over you, you’ve never seen him so damn mad. “What, gonna tell my brother I kissed someone? Snitch.”

“That was more than kissing.” Satoru leans down, blue eyes raking down your dress, still scrunched up just so, you tug it down a bit. “Boy probably came in his pants touching you.”

“What!? You’re so stupid!”

“I’m stupid?”

“You are. Think I don’t wanna be touched, Satoru? Think I wanna be a virgin forever because you and Suguru are so overbearing?” Satoru blinks at that, leaning back now, you cross your arms, trembling with anger and the chill of the night.

“And he’s who you want? On one date?”

“Don’t you even, I know you like the back of my hand. How often do you sleep with women? Plus I wasn’t yet.”

“Yet!?”

“Satoru why the fuck do you care? Your big brother act is getting old. I don’t need you to babysit me. If I wanna sleep with someone eventually,  I will.”

He scoffs now. “You don’t even know what fucking is.”

“Not with you and Suguru cockblocking my life away. But I feel I’ll be a fast learner.” You pat his shoulder, smiling and tilting your head. “Are you mad?”

“Me, mad? No. I just care about you. I just… want you to make good decisions. I just…”

“He’s sweet, he’s got his shit together. And he thinks… I’m beautiful.” You say softly, brows drawing together. Satoru exhales now, hands gently pausing you, tilting your chin up with two fingers.

“Who wouldn’t think you’re beautiful?” His voice drops an octave, then you feel it, the tension coiling, not sweet butterflies, no Satoru’s touch is destroying you, like a fire that you want to burn from. His words muddle your mind.

“You don’t think I’m anything but ‘fine’ remember?”

“What do you want me to say? If I say what’s on my mind I’ll be a shit friend, a shit person.” You blink rapidly now.

“What’s on your mind?”

Satoru’s hands slip down your body slowly, every bit of you responds, when he’s leaning so low, you can feel his breath on your lips, you can taste his sweet breath, feel your pulse pounding in your neck. “Last week in that outfit, all I could think of was bending you the fuck over, ripping those fishnets.”

You gulp now, vividly imagining it all, shaking with need, feeling your cunt dripping wet, embarrassingly. “Y-you what!?”

“And this dress? Unzip it slowly, brushing your hair back as I do.” Satoru lifts your hair now, turning you to where your back is pressed against him, you can barely control your breaths as his fingers trail over that zipper. “Kiss down your back, every pretty inch of your skin, until I got here.”

His hands press on your thighs, slipping up one, and you’re a mess when he presses up against your panties, your drippy cunt throbbing around nothing, letting out an embarrassing moan. He exhales at it, pressing long fingers up against your clothed clit as he wraps an arm around your waist, you feel like you’re in some Satoru Gojo fucking wet dream, damn near cumming from that.

“Wh-what… since… you never…ngh!” Satoru laughs softly, tickling your ear with his breath, sending shivers down your spine as you get wetter and wetter, shamelessly grinding against his hand, your own gripping his arms.

“Think I haven’t wanted you for so long? That I don’t die every time you run around in those slutty boy shorts you sleep in?”

“Then why… why…”

“I can’t, I can’t do it. But don’t think I don’t fucking want you, so badly it makes me stupid. F-fuck, feel how wet you are, that from that boy?” His voice gets darker, as he’s swirling his fingertip, coating it with your slick, your head falls back, eyes fluttering shut at being touched this way.

“Maybe I am.” You taunt, and he laughs, slipping his finger under the elastic, slamming a hand on your mouth to cover your cry, fingers brushing your slick folds, you almost cum, pathetic for him.

“Nah, sweetheart, think that’s from me. Barely touch you and…” He takes some of your pooled arousal, bringing it to his lips then, moaning. “Fuck you taste good.”

“Satoru what the fuck… do you know how long I have-” You both hear steps now, and Satoru is off you in a flash, leaving you a flustered mess with sticky thighs, panting as you try to pull yourself together.

“I can’t do this to him.” Satoru says, brows drawn together, and your lips tremble, breath catching.

“You want me?” You whisper, then Suguru opens the door, leaning on the doorway, assessing you both as Satoru hastily yanks out his keys again.

“Scare the boy off?” Suguru asks, Satoru lets out a big grin, so genuine looking you wouldn’t know it was fake.

“Of course I did, he was getting a little handsy.” You glare at him now, simply earning a smoldering look from him, before he waves.

“You little shithead.” You earn a laugh, and Suguru glares.

“Handsy?”

“Night!” Satoru bounces off to his sleek sports car, as if he hadn’t just tasted your pussy, as if he hadn’t just wrecked everything for you.

How can you get over him now? Is it some game to him?

“Handsy how?” Suguru demands, you shove past your brother, rolling your eyes now.

“Go to bed!”

“Excuse me-”

You’re off to your room before Suguru can catch you, back against the door, struggling to catch a breath. You yank off your heels, unzipping your dress, picturing his hands doing it. Picturing what it would be like to kiss him, to kiss Satoru Gojo. You huff as you lay on the bed, pussy aching, you clench your thighs together and cover your face, overheated from everything.

“What a dick. What an ass.” You yank your phone out then, dialing him now, and to your surprise he answers.

“What, brat?”

“What was that!?” You whisper, leaning up on an elbow, Satoru sighs heavily, you hear it in his voice.

“Me fucking up once, it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t happen again?”

“Why, ya want it sweetheart, my fingers on you?” You let out an unwilling moan, and he moans in response, cursing. “Do you have to sound so fucking hot?”

“Since when!”

“You’re his sister, you know what that means?”

“I’m not just his sister, I’m a woman, okay? My own woman.”

“Yeah, I know, how can I not? I can taste you on my tongue.”

“Jesus, Satoru.” You can’t stop yourself from reaching down, touching your clit, puffy and slick, crying out as you do.

“You’re not… are you… touching yourself to my voice?” Your hips buck up as you rub in circles, whining out. “You’re a slutty little virgin.”

“Satoru, I want you.”

“Want me, hmm?” His voice is too much, you can’t stand it, you nod though he can’t see. “Want me to taste you there? Drag my tongue over your slit?”

“Please, please, want it.” You’re moaning now, and he’s cursing, cock hard and straining under his jeans as he drives, cursing you mentally. He can hear your cries, picturing your perfect body as you play with your pussy, the one so yummy, so hot and wet. “Satoru…”

“Shh, what if he hears?”

“He never has before.”

“You’ve cum to the thought of me?” His words are a whisper, you don’t even know what to say, the entirety of this feels so surreal you have no sense of shame over it or embarrassment.

“Just… keep going, please I hurt.” Satoru practically drools as he pulls into his driveway, leaning his head back, hand rubbing his cock over his jeans now, eyes fluttering shut as he listens to your cries, picturing his face between your thighs.

“You’d hurt when I got done with you, would fuck your pretty cunt so good. Have you… fuck…” Satoru’s having trouble concentrating, releasing his cock, it springs and smacks his stomach, dripping pre cum all over.

“Are you-”

“Keep touching yourself. Fuck I wonder how pretty it is.” He huffs, and you bear his own gasps as he strokes his cock just making you drip more. “I hear how wet you are.”

Your eyes roll back at him. “Want you to. To touch me again, more.” You're gasping as your fingers move in sure circles, listening to Satoru stroke his cock in sync. “Want you… for my… first.”

“Oh my fucking- slip a finger in.” You nervously do as he says. Feeling your finger in your slick hole but wanting him so badly, it’s just a tease for what you want. “That’s it, god I can hear it through the phone.

“Satoru… jus’ come back.” You’re pressing a finger inside your little drippy cunt, panting breaths, breasts rising and falling.

“Yeah, you want me to come back? What do you want?”

“W-want your fingers. So long- ah!” Satoru moans as he listens, his mind going insane with images of all the times he’s watched you in your bikini, all the times you’ve bent over in front of him, remembering how wet you were on his fingers.

Fuck.

“Want 'em deep in you, so greedy.” His words just edge you more, and you’re huffing, oversensitive, not hitting what you need. “Aw baby can’t cum?”

“Fuck you, Toru.”

“I know, you want me too hmm? Break your tight little pussy?” You’re on the edge of cumming, while you hear him moaning, picturing what his cock must look like, it drives you insane, your pussy so slippery your hands nearly fall off.

“Yes, I do. Do you want it, to be inside?”

“Fuck…” Satoru’s tip is sensitive as he spits on it, mixing with the drooling precum, pinching his tip as he tortures himself with thoughts of you. “Wanna bury myself in you.”

“Ah!” You’re screaming out, covering your hand as the phone falls next to you, Satoru hears as you shatter, cumming so hard your pussy throbs, entire body sensitive, so sensitive just your sheets against your skin have you shivering. Your hand is covered in your own slick as it trembles. “S-Satoru, can you cum for me too?”

“Oh my god.” Satoru’s cock starts twitching as he cums so hard he can’t remember, white hot sticky ropes dripping all over his hand, as his head slams his head against the driver’s seat, jerking as he’s so sensitive.

“Satoru, I-”

“This can’t happen.” He says tersely, you blink back tears, so damn weak from cumming to his voice, to hearing him say the words you’ve literally dreamed about, that he wants you.

“You want me.”

“Yes, god how don’t you know!?” Satoru embarrassingly cleans himself up with napkins, cursing. “Got me acting like a dumb fucking teenager.”

“Satoru please just come back over.”

“No, because at this rate I’ll knock you up when I get in you, and your brother will literally hate me forever.”

“You don’t know that! And okay then we be sneaky.”

“You’re still a little brat. No.”

“And you’re a dick!” You get into pajamas now, staring at the mirror in your dark room, lit only by the little fairy lights hanging over your bed.

Satoru scoffs, swiping at that silky white hair as he walks into his home, cock twitching at the thought of you. “I won’t do it, this is terrible enough.”

“If you wanted to, why were you so mean to me!?”

“So you’d stop having a goddamn crush on me. It clearly failed.”

“Yeah, no shit. Fine, then I’ll go on another date.”

“What!?”

“No hope for us, and well Satoru now I’m so wet.”

Satoru glares at the phone, you don’t see it but you can sense it, as he remembers how mad he was seeing you. “You do what you want, we can’t be together so it doesn’t matter.” He curses himself as he says it, leaning over the counter.

“Fine then. You’re immature.”

“Me!? You’re a little annoying thing I swear. You have to forget what I did, what we just did… I can’t.”

“Forgotten then.” You say, choking on a cry. “You’re so scared of what, Suguru would love you even if we were together.”

“You just don’t do that. And I don’t date.”

“You fuck?”

“Yep.”

“Then fuck me.”

“Oh my… go to bed, brat.” You sniffle, shaking your head, hating how weak you constantly are for him, you hang up, slumping back on your bed and screaming into your pillow.

How can you get over him now!?

Meanwhile, Satoru slams into the counters, grabbing a drink and pouring it, throwing it straight down his throat.

How can he get over you now?

“Satoru! Are you ready for this?” Suguru asks, and your heart damn near beats out of your chest when you see Satoru Gojo shirtless. You've seen it here and there, it was not something one got used to.

His rippling, lean muscles make your mouth dry, you struggle not to look, arms covering yourself a bit in your bikini, while he stares at you in shock, eyes drifting down you in a moment’s glance while Suguru is snatching up bags and slinging them over his shoulder.

Your breasts are on full display in the bikini top, and Satoru can’t get his mind off it, that night last week, he’s avoided Suguru all damn week because of it. How he’s jerked it to the memory of your moans, and now he has to see you like this in this bikini that barely covers your tits, pretty and pink, popping against your milky skin. It takes so much not to tear it off and suck on your nipples.

He sees them perk up through the thin material, tempting him more, how can they not perk up when you want him so bad? You can barely formulate a thought in your head, when his muscles flex just so, and your eyes trail to his trunks, where you see the outline of his cock.

Great, you’re wet.

You quickly clear your throat when your brother smiles, bringing you the little white cover up. “Thanks.”

“Mmhmm, let’s go, Shoko, Nanami and Utahime will all be here.”

“You gonna talk Shoko up finally?” Satoru teases, a heartbreakingly pretty grin on his stupidly pretty face.

Ugh.

“You gonna get Utahime not to hate you?”

“Ha, no fucking way.”

“She’s hot though.”

Satoru looks back at you, something swirling in his blue eyes. “I guess so.”

“You guess so? Didn’t you think so like a week ago?”

“Yeah. Sure.” He only can think of you, little brat driving him insane, have you seen that guy again!?

“She’s pretty.” You agree, smiling brightly, putting on a show. “My friend Maki is coming too, and Yuuta will be here.”

Satoru’s fists clench, raising a white thin brow. “Oh?”

“Mmhmm. A full pool party.” The doorbell rings now, and everyone starts piling around the house, you grab the appetizers and drinks with Suguru’s help, greeting everyone as you all head to the pool.

Watching Satoru Gojo grill out was doing things, things that made you unable to focus, even as Maki comes, and gives you a big hug, so pretty with her emerald hair and glasses, her body lean and muscled. “Maki you look hot!”

“You look hot, baby. Oh, is that your boyfriend?”

“Not a boyfriend. But we went out. You’ll like him.”

“Give up on Gojo?” She asks, peering over, she knows you’ve been in love since you were a teenager. You sigh, nodding. “Suuree.”

“Oh stop. Yuuta!” You give him a hug, he smiles and hugs you back, lean and cut in his swim trunks, and when he sees Maki his mouth drops, though he quickly clears his throat.

Maki blushes, and you look between them, smiling then.

“Yuuta, come meet Maki, my best friend. Isn’t she gorgeous?”

“What!?” Maki hisses at you, but you see it the moment they meet.

“You’re both beautiful.” Yuuta takes Maki’s hand and she is bright red, you lean over to Yuuta’s ear.

“Think she likes you.”

“What!?” You just giggle.

“I’m hopping in!” You wave at everyone else before you jump in, and Satoru watches the way your ass bounces when you do, to the point he has to turn and adjust himself, semi hard from that.

You hop up in the pool, covered in dripping wet water, hair slicked back and sticking to you just so, tempting him to no goddamn end. It’s like you know it too, smirking at him with a bratty raise of your eyebrows. He holds the spatula and thinks of beating your ass with it, when Suguru walks up.

“So I thought I liked the kid, but look.” Suguru nudges his head, shaking Satoru out of his reverie, as Yuuta is clearly flirting with Maki, then he looks back at you, smiling at them.

“I think… She's matchmaking.” Satoru says, and Suguru sighs.

“I guess, but I was hoping for her to get a good guy, not some dick you know. He seems like a good kid.”

“Yeah, she deserves the best.” Satoru’s voice gets hoarse, and Suguru puts his hair up in a ponytail, tilting his head curiously at Satoru.

“She does. Not some shithead like me and you were at her age.” He jokes, smacking his shoulder, Satoru feels the words like a punch to the gut.

“I mean we’re not much older.”

“What now?” Suguru’s called over, and Satoru is barely able to breathe, Nanami walks up and takes over cooking with a tired smile, leaving Satoru to watch you, swimming across the pool in smooth strokes.

All he can picture is carrying you up to your little room and hearing those moans in person, making you moan. If he hadn’t touched you, if he’d just held himself back, maybe he could keep this in, but now you’re pulling him in, he’s a stupid moth smacking a fucking lightbulb.

Satoru grabs two drinks, cracking them open, sitting on the edge of the pool now and handing you one. You smile so damn pretty he’s dying. “Ah thanks, Toru, I’m old enough now?”

“I guess so. Fuck I was wasted in a frat house at your age.”

“I bet you were a slut.” Satoru glares, earning your grin, damn he’s sexy when those blue eyes narrow.

“You don’t know shit. Your brother was the slut.”

“What? No!”

“Sure was.” Satoru slides in the pool, you two are the only ones in there, and he’s dangerously close, the cold water chilling you as he warms you up, his gaze takes in the goosebumps on your breasts and how the water is just pressing them up more. “I’m no virgin but I’m not what you think.”

You sip the beer now, nodding a bit. “I was teasing, really.”

“You tease a lot, run your mouth all the time.” You scowl, and he smirks. “Wonder if I could put it to better use.”

Fuck.

Your body hums, stepping closer, your legs brushing against Satoru’s, strong and so damn long, and you watch him tense, but you act so casual, just sipping your drink, eyes locking with his. “Something wrong?”

“I swear to god you’re annoying.” You feel his hand on your back, taking it over with his long fingers, slipping lower where no one can see, grabbing an ass cheek and exhaling. “Annoying with a nice ass. And perfect tits.”

You’re flustered now, for all your talk, his hand is gone as quick as it was there. “Did you just compliment me?”

“It’s no compliment, it pisses me off.” He sips his drink with a scowl, then he jolts as you teasingly brush the back of your hand on his cock under the water, his free hand snatches your wrist.

“What, you did it to me?”

“You’re a slutty little brat you know that?”

“Hmm, am I?”

“Lucky your brother’s here, I’d drag you out of this pool and beat your ass.” You’re further turned on, he sees it, in your dilated eyes and parted lips, how your breasts rise and fall quicker. “I swear you’ll kill me before he gets to.”

Soon everyone else starts to get in the pool, and Satoru goes as far from you as he can, avoiding even looking at you, lest he has a stupidly hard cock in a pool with all of his best friends. The women there are beautiful too, but his eyes are only on you, his mind is overtaken in the most annoying way, you had the audacity to touch him now too!?

He wants to beat that bouncy little ass.

You end up a little overheated from the sun, deciding to head inside and chug some water, only to shut the fridge and there he is, snatching you by your arm before you can blink, dragging you into the pantry. You blink in surprise, also to adjust your vision, before gasping as Satoru turns you around, pressing you against the wall, smacking your ass.

“Ow!” You hiss, it stings so bad, but you’re clenching around nothing when he smacks your other ass cheek. “You dick!”

“That’s for touching me, brat.” He turns you back around now, bending low, cupping the side of your face, and your breath catches in your throat, hammering when you taste his sweet breath on your lips, lingering so close. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” You whisper, hand sliding up his bare, slick chest, his eyes slam shut, forehead resting on yours.

“Stop looking at me that way.”

“I’ve just hid it. You think I haven’t always wanted you?”

“You can’t. So stop.” You laugh softly, shaking your head. “We won’t do it.”

“What, kiss?” You pull on him, but he refuses to budge. “You don’t kiss?”

“I can’t kiss you, it won’t end there. I’m not that boy. I’d have my fingers in you at dinner.” You gasp as he slides your bikini bottoms to the side, sinking a finger in, you have to cover your mouth not to scream, he has to bite back a moan. “I’d have been licking you right in the car, have you on the hood of my fucking car, making you cum all over my face.”

“Satoru, please.” You yank on him again, and he’s shaking his head, sighing over your lips, knowing you’ll end him when he does, your cunt squishing so loud in the little pantry, as you soak him, and he slides a second into your eager hole. “Please.”

“Stop making me want you so fucking bad. Now.” He presses on that little spot in your gummy walls. You can't even see then, gripping him, dizzy as he studies you.

“I was swimming-”

“Stop looking so good.”

“Don’t stop!” You beg, when he’s slipped his fingers out, sucking on them and exhaling, pressing you against the wall further, a thigh between yours now, pressing up and making you gasp.

“I can’t do it to him.”

“Satoru who’s to say he won’t approve? You’re his best friend.”

“Ha, and not good enough.” You frown now, hands sliding up, wrapping around his neck, entangling in drippy silvery hair.

“You’re good enough for anyone.” He melts at your words.

“Not for his little sister, you don’t get how much he cares, he feels like a damn parent to you.”

“He’s not though. Satoru just… kiss me.”

“No I’ll be fucking you and crash the shelves.” You sigh frustratedly when he pulls back, shaking his head when you grip his arms.

“Then let me please you-”

“Jesus christ you’re a whole monster meant to fuck me up.” You snort at that, at his eyes bugging out. “You’re a virgin, you’ll be with someone special.”

“You’re special.”

“Fuck me.” He storms out, once again edging the fuck out of you, you go to chase him when Suguru and his friends are all walking in, and Satoru puts on the role of unbothered so damn well, all while he’s fucking you up.

You storm to your bathroom after making an excuse you don’t feel good, letting the hot spray of the shower hit, trying to focus on anything other than him, and his face when he thinks he’s not good enough. How can he ever think that!? You lean back against the wall, the water beating your skin, scalding hot on full blast, trying to blank your stupid mind out.

“No, I'm not mad at all!”

“But you went on a date-”

“Maki, I… I can’t get over Gojo.” You say softly, leaning against the door of your room. “I just can’t let the love go.”

“Baby, maybe just tell him?”

“I think he knows, but he’s too scared of Suguru to do shit, I am not sure he feels the same anyway.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t know, but how do I say- oh yes, I love you Satoru Gojo, I have a box of your pictures and love notes- aha it’s chill though!” Maki snorts in laughter over the phone.

“You need clarity or you’ll never move on. Are you really okay with me and Yuuta hanging out though? It’s like the only date I’ve seen you on.” You hear the concern in her voice.

“No, it’s fine, he’s so sweet Maki. I think he’d be good for you.”

“Oh don’t get so serious, just a movie. But okay, I believe in you!”

“You shouldn’t.” She laughs and you say your goodbyes, it’s been another week since Satoru had fucked you up again. You’re annoyed by his back and forth, you’re annoyed you can’t think of anything but kissing him.

You open the door then, to go get water, and he’s right there, making you gasp, jumping when blue eyes lock on yours. Suguru is out on a date tonight and you didn't expect him to be here, pouty lips set in a thin line when he looks down at you. You stare at each other for a heart stoppingly long time, just breathing, until his arm drops from the door frame, and he steps inside your room.

“God how much did you hear?” You whisper, Satoru shuts your door behind him then, the resounding click echoing.

“I heard all of it.” He says quietly, brushing a hand down your hair, making you tremble.

“That's not how I wanted you to find out.”

“Were you ever going to tell me? That it's not some little crush?” He asks, eyes darting across your face, his own chest heaving.

You look down, trying to find any words. “I didn't want to scare you away even more.”

“Is it true?” Satoru cups your face now, and you nod, tears in your eyes.

“Satoru Gojo, I have loved you since you first met Suguru. I know I was a kid, I get it, but it never went away. It's more intense, my feelings, aching to be with you every moment of every day.” Satoru stands there, listening, and you step closer, a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. “I thought if I went on a date I could try to get over this, but you occupy all my dreams, all my thoughts.”

Satoru exhales, shocking you when he picks you up in his arms, holding you like you're nothing, your legs wrap slender hips, your arms around his neck. Satoru’s huge hands are on your bare thighs, as his hard body presses against you. You're so close to his lips, lips you've ached to kiss since you first knew what kissing even was.

“I'm in love with you, Satoru.” He exhales, his eyes swirling with emotions. “I can't stop how I feel, I have tried. I'm so in love with you, I just wish you could see me as more, I'm not a kid okay? I'm not just Suguru’s sister. I'm-”

“You're beautiful.” He cuts you off, his words melting you completely, his voice hoarse as he whispers. “I know you're you, I see who you are. I see more than you know.”

“That's all I ever wanted, for you to see me.” Satory carries you to your bed, laying you on it now, hovering over you, lips tantalizing when you run a thumb across them. “I do love you, fuck I think I always will, it just won't go away. It's okay if you don't feel the same, but you deserve to know.”

Satoru leans down, and he kisses you, the sparks from his lips like electric tingles everywhere, your every nerve ending is on fire as he does. You moan into his mouth, hands sinking in silky white hair, and he deepens the kiss, moaning himself, sinking low onto you, hard body pressed on yours. You're arching up against the thigh he has, braced on for support, gasping as it brushes up, firm and strong, bumping where you're so needy.

“You're so hot for me.” He murmurs, pulling back, before diving back in, tongue swirling with yours, and it's so breathtaking, the intensity in which your tongues meet. When he's biting your lips, sinking lower, on his elbows now, your tongues dripping saliva, so messy. Satoru takes over everything, long limbs too long for your small bed, you drown in him.

“Please.” You whisper, and he exhales, kissing down your throat, your chest, big hands gripping your breasts, you cry out at it.

“Are you sure about this? It's important, sweetheart.” He whispers, slipping down your shirt and moaning audibly. “Perfect.”

“I've never been more sure about anything.” Your words strike a cord with him, when he's sucking a nipple into his hot mouth, you cry out, pussy wetter and hotter against your shorts, he feels you on his thigh, dying to shove his cock so deep, you grind on his thigh as he sucks on your other pretty titty.

“So desperate, gonna cum from that?” He raises a sarcastic ass brow, and you remember, Satoru is a cocky asshole.

One that you love.

You roll your hips again, he gasps at it, leaning up on his knees, you whine. “No, get back!”

He smirks now, peeling down your shorts, revealing your bare cunt to him, glistening with your arousal. He moans as he looks at you, parting your lips and looking at your pretty cunt. “So wet already…”

Your thighs shake as he stares at you so intimately, then he's kissing down your waist, between your breasts, your tummy. You're whimpering and soaking wet by the time he's kissing up your inner thigh, breath teasing your entrance. “Satoru… you don't have to um… if you don't…”

“I love to eat pussy, especially when they're this fucking pretty.” You're dripping wetness out of your little hole, when his lips press, you jump now. “So pretty it'll ruin me forever.”

“Satoru!” You scream out when he slips his tongue up your slit now, nothing you've felt or done can prepare you for it, for him flicking his tongue on your engorged clit, you see him staring at you under lidded eyes, big hands pressing into the plush of your thighs. “Oh my god.”

“You taste s’fucking good.” He whispers, flicking his long tongue up against your clit again, you’re screaming out from just that, earning his little laugh. “So easy, I’ve barely started, baby.”

Baby.

Satoru called you baby.

Satoru called you baby as he’s grinning against your pussy, tongue slipping between your folds again, licking up your slit, your cunt is gushing down his pretty face, coating his tongue in your arousal. He takes a hand off your thigh, using it to separate your lips, slipping his tongue inside your tight little entrance, you’re falling apart under him.

Your entire body reacts to the sensation, your hands unwillingly pulling at his hair, hips arching up for more of him, and then Satoru leans up a bit, spitting on your clit, grinning as he watches it slip down your pretty pussy. “S-Satoru…”

“So pretty, look at her.” He muses, swirling the saliva around with your own slick, shoving two fingers in your cunt, stretching you so good you gasp out, then he’s using his tongue on you with them, pumping them in and out of your slick walls, pressing on a spot that makes you drool, closer and closer when he sucks your clit in his mouth, humming on you.

“Oh my- f-fuck I… Satoru!” You’re crying his name as your orgasm wracks over you, arousal drooling out of your cunt all down his mouth, his chin, he groans as he laps it all up.

“Messy little brat.” He huffs, grinning again against you, before nipping at your clit, the sensation of sharp pain only egging your orgasm on further. “Mmm.”

Satoru now holds your hood up, thumb and finger pinching your clit as he fucks you with two fingers, hearing the sloppy mess he was making your pussy, looking up to see your pretty face flushed and fucked out already. Your pretty breasts are heaving up and down, the peaks taut and begging for his mouth again. He presses up on your spot again, watching you fall apart.

“That’s it, you’re so easy f’me.” He teases, but you don’t talk shit, you don’t talk back like usual, no you’re just whimpering, your thighs tightening on his head on either side.

“Ngh!” Is all you manage, walls pulsing around his two fingers now, fingers deeper than anything you’ve felt, you’re so slippery and messy his fingers slip, he’s drinking you up, you hear him sipping you, devouring you, you’re losing it as his hand presses on your tummy, curling his fingers just so, sucking your clit again, bringing you to another climax. “Toru!”

“Mmm.” He finally lets you go, leaving you a twitching mess and smirking, charming fucking asshole over you, having so casually wrecked you, you’re so flustered when you see he’s glistening with you. You wipe at his chin. “You feel better, brat?”

“I want more.” You whisper, hand slipping down his abdomen, his breath catches at it, brushing your hair back, kissing you. You taste yourself on his lips, hands trembling as you unbutton his shirt, revealing his strong chest. “Please.”

“We can stop here for now.” You see it then, the concern on his face, you shake your head.

“I want you inside me. I wanna feel you. Satoru I love-”

“I love you.” He cups your face, eyes darting back and forth, your heart pounds so loudly you hear it in your ears, body thrumming and reeling from the orgasms, from his words.

“What!?”

He laughs now, shaking his head and kissing you. “I love you too, annoying little brat. I don’t have a box of love notes and pictures though, simp.”

“Oh fuck off!” You giggle then, sniffling as emotions hit, and he grins, so beautiful your heart breaks.

“You’re a regular yandere.” You laugh once more, kissing him over and over, slipping his dress shirt down his shoulders.

“I am no yandere, I just am in love with you, Satoru. How could I not be? How could anyone not love you?” His own lips tremble, but he catches himself, glaring.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Make me sappy. Are you sure, I could eat you out every day all day, we can wait for more.” He kisses down to your breasts again, touching you so deeply, worshipping you with his hands, his lips, his tongue.

“I’ve been ready.”

“Masturbating to me?” He teases.

“Yes.” Satoru groans now, kissing you again, pressing between your thighs now, you feel his bulge against you, frustratingly inside of his jeans, you rub on him eagerly, earning his huff of frustration.

“Do you have to be so sexy?” He murmurs, pink lips glossy from your kisses, you nip at one, earning a breathy whine from him.

“Yes I thought of you, it’s hard to think of or see anyone else when there is a Satoru Gojo at your house all the time.” You unbuckle his belt, gasping when he springs free from his boxers, huge, long and thick, two veins wrapping around his cock from the base to the pink tip, all leaking precum. “You’re so big…”

“Did you ever do it while I was here, hmm?” He asks, standing up now, slipping off his jeans and boxers, and his cock slaps his belly button before it settles back, hard and throbbing. You feel your tummy clench again, he’s so perfect, but also…

“Will it fit?” He snorts, as he eases you to sit up, brushing your hair back as you stroke it, little hand nowhere close to covering any of it.

“We’ll have fun making it try to. Open your mouth pretty.” You eagerly obey, and Satoru Gojo’s cock enters your mouth, you taste his salty precum on your tongue, swirling the tip as he leans his head back for a moment, moaning.

“That’s it, fuck… mouth feels s’good.” You whine out now, thighs pressing together as you lap at him, sucking as much as you can into your mouth, but there was no possibility of deep throating as you’ve seen, at least not yet, Satoru Gojo is way, way too big. He’s pulling at your hair, thrusting into your mouth, groaning as you take more and more of him. “Did you?”

“Hmm?” You look up at him with dazed out eyes, drool dripping down your full lips, he smirks then, cock aching to slide inside you.

“Did it while I was here?” You feel your cheeks heat up now, looking down shyly, nodding. “You did!?”

“Oh shut up! Yes, do you really wanna talk right now?” He glares again, pulling at your hair, it feels so good, the pricking of pain on your scalp you moan.

“Tell me a time.” He murmurs, tilting your chin up, as you stroke his cock, aching for more and more of him as your eyes drift down his perfect, chiseled body.

“You’re such a perv.”

“Me? You were playing with your pretty pussy in the room next to me.” His words fuck your brain up more, while he presses you back down on your bed, kneeling between your thighs, you gasp when his length presses against your inner thigh, hot and heavy.

“There were lots of times.” You whisper, and he moans, slipping his tip against you, drooling tip pressing on your clit, you cry out, shaking. “First night was my high school graduation, after my eighteenth birthday, remember the party we threw?”

“Fuck you looked pretty in that little dress.” You melt further, eyes catching him as his tip presses just so in your entrance, you feel it, the burning stretch, almost cumming from his tip alone. Satoru cups your face with one hand as he leans on an elbow, lips hovering over yours.

“Y-you noticed?” You whisper, he smiles then.

“That was the first time I noticed you grew up, your little graduation cap and that pretty blue dress. Fuck… could cum from this.” He kisses you again, desperately, just staying there, not going further, fucking you with his tip, a ridiculous tease.

“Mmm, that night I imagined you in here, my graduation gift, all tied up in a big ribbon. Even better than the car Sugu got me. Ah!” Satoru presses deeper, eyes lidded as he feels your tight walls gripping him.

“In ribbon!?” He demands, you just giggle a bit, before whining out, he’s pressing deeper, your cunt stretching to accommodate. “For you to have your way with me.”

“Absolutely. Ah! Please…”

“It’ll hurt for a sec, okay?” You nod, and he kisses you so sweetly then, a hand sliding down the curves of your body to your thigh, then he shoves past the little barrier, nestling himself in your snug entrance, you scream out at it, tears pricking your eyes at the pain, he pauses, cursing. “Fuck, you okay? Breathe.”

“S’big… so full…” You feel too full, never anything like it, Satoru’s about halfway in and already you don’t know if you can take him. He kisses you, slipping his hand between you both, thumb pressing against your swollen clit. “T-Toru!”

“That’s it, relax, breathe. You’re too tight, please.” He lets out a strangled sound, as you grip him so good he could bust right there, fucking embarrassing. He looks at your pretty face, hating the tears in your eyes, he wants it to be so good for you, he eases out then sinks back in, easier as he plays, and you let out a moan. “Good girl, listening for once.”

You sniffle and smile tremulously, before your eyes roll back in your skull, mouth in an O, and Satoru’s sinking deeper in your cunt, gushing around his cock, feeling him fill you so good as his fingers work your clit. Soon it starts to feel so fucking good, you’re gasping, arching your hips up, earning his snowy lashes fluttering shut before he slams his lips on yours.

“Feel so fuckin’ perfect, baby, she’s tryna milk me already.” He huffs, starting to pump into you, continuing the circles, your velvety walls suck him in greedily as he fucks you deeper, sinking almost balls deep, tip smashing your cervix. “Oh my god, I feel it, cum on me please.”

His little whimper and his plea end you, you cum so hard you’re seeing stars, your pussy spasming around his cock, your orgasm so intense it’s like your whole body is seizing. You’re twitching embarrassingly as his thumb stops its circles, and Satoru is panting, his breath hot against your cheek as he kisses your neck, his cock still buried to the hilt inside of you, not moving now.

“You’re perfect, doing such a good job.” He whispers, his voice strained and full of emotion, his kisses sloppier as feels you ride out the aftershocks. 

“M’just laying here, you’re doing the work.” You mumble, he laughs then softly, grinning at you.

“Next time, on your knees. Ah- f-fuck…” He’s groaning as he bottoms out, balls smacking on your ass, you hear the sounds of it as he’s flushing on top of you, eyes getting darker and darker. “Then, on top the third time.”

“Y-yeah?” You whisper, and he moans, nodding before kissing you again, fingers dipping into the jut of your hips, he pulls back on his knees, hand on your white headboard, rolling his hips and making every abdominal tense, as you look down, seeing him in your tummy, bulging. “Is that… your…”

“Ha, look at it. Fucking you so deep, feel me there?” He takes your hand, pressing it on your tummy, and you feel him, his movements slower, sweat dripping down his porcelain skin, dripping onto your lips as he works you.

“I feel you everywhere.” Your words ignite something in him, the nostrils of that thin perfect nose flare.

"I can't hold back baby, can you take it harder?" His voice is strangled, you nod eagerly.

"Y-yes, I can." You gasp out, still panting, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. "I want it, I need it, all of you."

"Fuck…" Satoru groans, his eyes darkening even more, pupils huge as he pulls back a bit before slamming back into you, making you scream out again at the sensation, it hurts so fucking good. “Hang on t’me baby.”

Your hands grip his shoulders, pressing in, then he leans down, and his hips begin to piston, his cock makes you feel like you’re going to split in half, but it’s so good you crave more, weakly whining out. You wrap your legs around his waist, trying to keep him as deep as possible, your nails digging into his back, leaving crescent marks, earning his hiss of pain.

“Brat.” He huffs, you just whimper, hearing the sounds of his pelvis slamming you, and you feel another orgasm building, your pussy clenching around his shaft, your walls fluttering. Satoru’s eyes widen, feeling your muscles tightening around him. "You gonna cum again? You’re so easy."

"F-fuck off… just… y-yes, fuck yes!" You scream, your body shaking as he picks up the pace, his cock hitting that spot, tip dragging on it over and over, you’re a drippy mess down his cock, your thighs, dripping down your ass to the bed as he works you, pounding your pussy. You cum again, harder than the first time, crying it’s so good, burying your face into his neck, shaking from it.

“Oh my god…” Satoru feels his own climax approaching, his movements becoming erratic and desperate. "I'm gonna fill you up, baby, so full of me. Fill your pretty pussy, yeah?"

“Please, please.” You beg, sniffling, tears so pretty from the pleasure, from the overwhelming feelings you have as he pounds you.

“Can you take it?” He asks, shoving your thighs up high, until you’re bent in half, so small under him, the bed is small compared to him, hands pressing into your thighs and squeezing almost painfully as his cock works you, fucking harder and harder, you watch him come apart over you.

“I can, I can.” He moans, leaning over you, cock bottoming out balls deep, you do feel him everywhere, when he slams into you one last time, his cock swelling and releasing hot ropes of cum inside of you, filling you to the brim with him.

“Baby… filling you s’fucking much. Fuck.” You’re cumming just from his heat inside you, from him throbbing inside you so deep, kissing you, you cling to him, thighs shaking around his hips, while he pumps it in and out of you.

“Oh my god...” You whisper weakly, eyes fluttering shut, struggling to keep them open.

“You’re so fucked out. Cute.” He huffs, and you glare, earning his chuckle as he lays on top of you, his weight pressing you into the bed, his heart hammering against your chest. "That was..." He can't even find the words, his breathing ragged while he stares at you, brushing back your hair.

"Amazing." You whisper, stroking his sweat-slicked hair back too.

He lifts himself up, looking into your eyes. "It was more than that. I’ve never felt anything like you.”

You heat up at his praise, and he watches you with a lazy smirk, kissing down your chest, to your breasts, so sensitive, every bit of you is, his cum dripping out of your pussy along with your own. “Can we do it again?”

“What a fiend, give me a minute!” You grin up at him, so beautiful fuck you make his heart ache, his cock already having blood rush through it when he slips out, fluids pouring from your hole as he does. You look down nervously.

“Oh it’s…”

“Shh, lemme clean you up.” You nod nervously, and Satoru runs out to the bathroom, running back and cleaning you up carefully, kissing you between each gentle wipe of your pussy, you feel the soreness set in, but it’s delicious. “Only happens once, okay?”

“It doesn’t bother you?” Your brows draw together, he shakes his head, finishing cleaning you up, kissing your pussy now, and you feel her throbbing again for him. “I don’t think I’ll get enough of this.”

“Neither will I. That's why I tried to avoid this.” He exhales, kissing your hood, darting his tongue out to circle your clit again, you scream out, pulling on his hair, and it urges him on, as he starts tasting his own cum mixing with yours on his tongue.

“Toru! Y-yes!”

“What the fuck!?” You both hear it then, Suguru slamming the door, and you separate quickly, Satoru’s jumping into his jeans, falling backwards as you hastily slide up your shorts, grabbing your twisted tank top and yanking it over your tits as you hear footsteps up the stairs.

“We’re screwed.” Satoru grumbles, kissing your lips deeply, and you cling to him as your brother walks up into the room, furious.

 “Satoru Gojo, what the fuck are you doing with my sister!?”

“A kiss before I die.” Satoru asks, tilting up your chin, and you kiss him eagerly as he’s dragged off you by Suguru, but Satoru and you both can’t stop the stupid fucked out grins on your faces even as Suguru loses his shit.

A/N- this was a request fill for you loving your big brother's best friend, so ofc I made it Suguru lol! <3 Hope you enjoyed! Tagging below!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61154809

|Character/s ➵ All bonten members.

|Warning/s ➵ NSFW, Fem!reader, crack language, suggestive themes, making out, cock block(😔).

|Note ➵ Ctto. They look so fine, damn it. Anyways, here's the part 2 that some of you peeps asked for. And I'd be happy to know on what you thought of this story in the comments! Enjoy <3

✿ Part(s): One, Two, Three

"My head." You let out a small groan then blankly stared at the unfamiliar ceiling which you still haven't realized... "My fucking head."

Letting out a sigh, you turn on your side, seeing an unknown but somehow familiar man sleeping on the bed with you which immediately made your eyes wide in shock.

"Did I finally lost my v card?" Was the first questions you asked. "To this fine fucking man?" Pursing your lips, you felt a tear slip out of her eyes. "Holy shit?? Is this for real?" Pumping your fist in the air, you almost shout a cheer.

"I fucking hit jackpot!" You squealed a little, excited to share the news to your friends. "I'm not a goddamn virgin anymore, Haya." You mumble before glancing at the still sleeping man.

"Goddamn pretty." You whisper with a dreamy sigh. "So fucking pretty. So lucky." You do a little victory dance in your mind as a memory suddenly comes in mind, making your face heat up.

It was a memory of you, clothes gone except for the matching undergarments. While half naked, you and the man were kissing each other so slow and passionate first before it became deep and rough, him dominating over you as his button up shirt were now half undone. Your inner self squeals, remembering how his hands traveled and caressed your body, the hazy memory ending there for you with a small huff.

You lift the blanket, wondering if you're naked along with Ran Haitani. A small hum came out of your mouth when your question was answered. You were wearing a large shirt, which obviously belonged to him, with nothing underneath but your black underwear while Ran wore a gray sweatpants next to you, his torso completely bare.

"How sweet. He must've cleaned and dressed me up." You mumble before lifting the blanket again, seeing his toned body with a half tattoo on it.

"...Now that's fucking sexy." You say, face heating up as you press your legs against each other. "Great. I'm getting horny over a tattoo." You roll your eyes at your own words before letting out a small chuckle and biting your lower lip when you took a quick peak at Ran's body once again.

"Damn sexy." You try your best not to squeal like a little girl so you set the blanket back down on your torso and turned your attention back to admire Ran's beauty but seeing him awake absolutely caught you off guard.

Your first reaction was to pull the blanket over your head and turn around in a flash, face turning red from embarrassment when you question yourself on how long was he awake and how much has he heard since he was looking pretty smug with a handsome smirk on his face.

'Cringe.' You thought, face going red from embarrassment. "Good morning, miss horny." The male greets with a small laugh while you question the somehow familiar name he just called you.

"Don't get all shy on me now." You hear him speak once again. "You were such a naughty girl last night, you know?" Your inner self lets out a scream, face flushed at his husky deep voice.

You remain still and quiet under the blanket, your shyness now getting the best of you which Ran found cute as you were a different person unlike last night.

Anxiety fills you up when the male became quiet with you, and it only increased when you feel him shift closer to you, feeling his warm toned body against your back that it made you think your heart was gonna yeet itself out of your chest.

"You're such a cutie." He said as you let out a small squeak when you felt his cold slender fingers make contact against your legs.

"You were so loud last night." You shut your eyes when you felt his hot breath against your nape. Ran was now under the blanket with you and the tension felt heavy for you that it made you aroused.

"Why so quiet now, sweetheart?" His hand caressed your leg up and down first, giving it light squeezes as it stopped on the side of your thighs.

"If you don't let me see your pretty face," Ran moved even closer. His rough hand quickly went to your hip, pulling it against his harshly, a small hiss went through his lips while yours were a yelp.

You bite your lips hard when you felt your underwear getting soaked with your own slick as Ran's hard cock twitching against his pants and at your ass, his heavy breathing against your now red ears made you feel really hot, especially when you're both under the blanket.

"I'm gonna have to punish you." The male finished with a small blow of hot air on your ears making you press your legs harder against your own legs while Ran held your hips so tight, his own bucking at yours made you mewl.

"You're so, haa, fucking cute." He grunts, his hand now moving again to tug the garter of your black panty. "Sexy thing." He mumbles with a smirk before inserting his hand inside, his forefinger and middle finger went up and down your wet folds.

"I've barely touched you and you're so fucking wet already, princess." You held back the moan that was about to escape your mouth while a drool slipped passed and trickled down on the corner of your lips.

"And so sensitive too." Ran chuckles deeply, almost letting out a growl while his cock kept twitching and throbbing inside his gray pants, wanting attention and to be touched by you so badly.

Ran never felt so turned on that he wanted nothing but to bury his cock deep inside your wet cunt, but then he remembers that you're still a virgin which made his eyes darken and thrust his hips harshly a couple of times on you.

The trigger of him being so horny must be because you're a virgin, he wants to cover you with hickeys or bruises. Just the imagination of it made him groan and his dick to release more pre against his pants.

He wants to fuck you so rough, shove his dick deep inside you until you beg him for no more as fat tears stream down your face while you whimper.

Ran must have some kind of corruption kink or something...

He starts to pepper your neck with wet kisses until it came to him biting it lightly first, then moved to biting it hard as bruises started to form on your neck, his fingers still playing with your cunt, rubbing your clit.

"Turn around and let me see your face, [Y/n]." He gruffly said, mentioning your name in a low voice which you obeyed after seconds had passed.

"Great expressions." He huffs, his half lidded beguiling eyes filled with lust bore into your teary-eyed ones.

"Come on, moan my name. Ran." He whispers, biting your earlobe. "Don't hold back. Say it. Moan my fucking name." With a growl, Ran inserts a finger inside in a harsh and quick motion that made you moan out his name loudly along with the sound of something hitting a wall or something..

"I knew you'd make a move on our pet " A voice said with a sigh, obviously shaking their head. "I can't believe you're making out without me." Another voice spoke with a huff.

'Pet? Who???' You question as the events that occurs last night came to you like lightning. Ran takes the blanket of him, but his hand didn't leave your pussy.

"Sorry, guys." Ran chuckles, flashing the stoic Rindou and smirking Kokonoi. "Nothing personal." He showed a subtle smile at them.

"But did you really have to come in and interrupt?" Ran moved his one slender finger inside you making you yelp as he inserts another one.

"Things were really getting good, you know." Ran pumps his fingers inside you for a while, making a moan slip out.

"Oh, what a cute voice." Kokonoi comments. "Bet she'll sound fucking sexy when a dick's finally inside of her." Sanzu states, a devilish smirk on his face while he leans against the doorframe.

"I was about to do that." Ran takes out his fingers and showed the men your glistening slick. "She's fucking tight." Rindou whistles, Koko lets out a chuckle, and Sanzu chuckles at the sight. Ran licks and sucks his fingers.

"Taste so damn amazing." Your face became bright red at their words, and when you decided to just stay still like you did earlier, the blanket was yanked away from you.

And just when you were about to cover your face face with a pillow, it was snatched away including the one you're using by the Haitani brothers. They laughed lightly at your expression.

You looked like a dog that had its ball of toy stolen away.

You huff and turn your back to the men, only to be met by a pair of mesmerizing emerald eyes boring into yours.

"Hello.." You greet shyly, a sheepish smile on your face. "Gorgeous." Sanzu chuckles, noticing the way Ran sent you a look as he flashes a smile.

"Morning, horny lady." You swear that you've never felt your eyes and ears so blessed, especially on mornings like this.

"I can die as a happy woman now." You blurt out suddenly which caused the men to go quiet while you continue to stare at Sanzu's face in a daze.

"Oh. Oh shit." You say, a nervous chuckle erupting from you as they just showed a smirk. "Anyways, uhm, something happened between us, right...?" you ask, a bit unsure since the memory you have kept ending with him on top of you on the bed, his fingers playing with you sensitive clit. You glance at Ran, who had his cheek resting on top of his palm, lazily grinning at you.

"Of course, princess." He said, his grin growing wide with mischief in it. "I told you that you were loud last night, right?" Ran states, leaning in close to you.

"Really loud." Rindou joins in with a deep chuckle making you blink your eyes. "...So, I really lost my v card???" You question, head slightly tilted to the side.

"You are such a cute pet." Sanzu comments, patting your head in the process. "No. You woke up in the middle of the night, saying that you were hot and uncomfortable in your clothes." Kokonoi starts

"You left Ran's room to find the bathroom while stripping your clothes off in the way." Sanzu joins in, the memory making them laugh a little. "And we were in the middle of a meeting. You gave everyone quite a show, even Mikey was amused." Rindou states, his hand patting your legs.

"You have a great body, so don't worry your pretty head over it, sweetheart." Ran finishes with a smile, and you swear that you could hear the heart in his sentence while your face goes bright red again, confusion written all over your face as you try to remember the memory.

"Ran excused himself to take your half naked body back to his room." Kokonoi adds making you groan while he obviously enjoys the reaction you're showing.

"And then you started shouting, I'm getting laid tonight! Ey!" Sanzu copies your actions last night with a small wheeze. "Then next thing we know you're singing something: I'm gettin' ripped tonight! R.I.P that pussy, ey!" Sanzu continues, his laugh getting louder as Ran joins in since he was there to witness it all.

"You kept repeating- shouting, singing the Dick word." Rindou chuckles while you wish that someone would bury you six feet in the ground...

"I didn't know that you were that desperate for a dick if it weren't for last night." Ran teases making you scowl at him as Sanzu's laugh echoed in the room.

"Same." You sigh out. "I'm disappointed that nothing really happened between us." Your honesty really amuses and making them speechless.

"We were about to make out last night, but you fell asleep on me." Ran sighs out, tapping your forehead with his forefinger. "I had to take care of junior by myself you know. Even today as well." The male glances at the three men in the room, who only replied by shrugging their shoulder or averting eye contact.

"Oh, you're all gathered here so early in the morning, surprisingly." A voice spoke from behind, catching everyone's attention. "I brought you breakfast." Kakucho enters the room with said breakfast in hand. It was your favorite and you're not even gonna question him on how he knows that information, knowing that he or everyone already did a background check on you since they're literally criminals, but that doesn't faze you.

Nope, not at all. You're only distracted by their beauty.

"You being here and bringing her breakfast is more surprising." Rindou blankly states making the others nod in agreement while the ravenette averts eye contact, cheeks slightly flushed.

"Shut up, man." He mumbles, brows furrowed slightly at the younger Haitani. "Just being thoughtful to...our pet." Kakucho adds, seemingly hesitant to call you like that while Sanzu starts to tease him, earning an icy glare from him.

"Aww! Aren't you a sweetheart!" You smile at the flustered male and took the food, immediately starting to eat as you're already hungry. Kakucho sighs in relief that you didn't seem hurt that he called you did...after all you did call yourself a pet last night and even signed up for it, so everything's well making him flash a little smile, a warmth feeling bubbling inside him as he watches you eat so happily.

"I'll just clean your sheets if it gets dirty, Ran." Said male replied with a go ahead at you, chuckling when he saw your cheeks puffed as it was filled with food. "Thanks for this, uh," With a troubled expression, you try to think or find the memory in your brain if the scarred man had already introduced himself to you. Kakucho chuckles at you.

"Kakucho Hitto, nice meeting you, [F/n] [L/n]." You beam at him and bow your head a little. "Pleasure is mine, sexy." Giggling at your own words, Kokonoi introduced himself as well along with the other men. Koko even told you the missing members' name and their feature so you wouldn't look so confused if they come to greet you.

As you eat, Sanzu takes your hand to take a bite and taste your chosen food. "Not bad." He said, scarred lips curving upwards into a smirk.

"I'm so not gonna get tired of that." You say, giving the pink haired a thumbs up. "Handsome men are the best!" You mutter, not really caring if they all heard it. Sanzu laughs again before grabbing your chin with his hand and pulling you in for a rough kiss, catching you off guard.

"Wha..." You squeak out, face flushed while he licked his lips in a seductive way for your eyes. "You're adorable." He whispered deeply in your ears, feeling his hot breath in the process.

"I can't wait to feel you and destroy that virgin pussy of yours." With a red face, you cover the lower part with your hand as you feel your panty dampen again.

"That's the only problem we have." Kokonoi hums. "Shouldn't you be doing your first with the person you love?" He ask making you wave your hand in front of your face. "Was about to that, but I don't really care about that anymore." You reply blankly. "Love is...Eh." Finishing the last bite of your breakfast, everyone suddenly got quiet, knowing your history with your ex.

They did a good job with their research about your background.

"Thanks again for this Kakucho." You flash a smile at the ravenette who nodded his head in return. "Yet you said that you love our boss." Ran sighs dramatically. "I'm hurt, princess. After the things we've been through?"

"Not much happened between us, Ran." You deadpan. Ran cups your cheek with a taunting smile. "Yet."

You scorn at him, a red hue spreading across your cheeks. "Anyways, about last night. I know what I did..." You trail. "And, I so don't regret what I said! I'm fine with giving my v card to any of you. There's no such thing as true love anyways! For me.." You exclaim, bitterly muttering the last part.

"As your pet, what'll be my job?" With a chuckle or smirk on their faces, Rindou gets close to you, thumb swiping across your lips, getting something out of it.

"I'm sure as hell that pleasing us is one of it." He states, his lazy grin growing wide as he licks the thumb he used against your lips, resulting for your face to heat up again for the nth time.

"And to obey our orders." Takeomi suddenly joins in, a cigarette in his mouth. "Guess you're all happy about the pet you got, hm?" He chuckles out.

"You're taking real good care of her." Takeomi glances at the smug Ran, getting the hint that he made a move on you.

"I'll check on you again later after I'm done with my work, [L/n]." The older man said before completely leaving with a slight wave of his hand.

"Now that I finally got a nice look at you, you're actually really pretty." An unknown deep voice comments. "Oh, thank you." You say bashfully at the tall man who grinned at you.

"I'll see you around." Mochi said, waving his hand at you as he also left. "Yes, see you around, sir!" You shout, then mumbling, "Is being handsome one of the requirements here..?"

"What are you all doing gathered here?" A quiet yet cold voice asked. "Get dressed and start working." Mikey/Manjiro Sano states making some of them sigh and leave the room, some of them bidding you a normal goodbye as some were flirty or naughty remarks making you laugh and roll your eyes.

Ran stands up, giving your forehead a kiss. "I'm gonna take a shower." He informs, sending you a playful wink next. "If you're both gonna make out in my bed, be sure to call me." You giggle, already getting used to this side of him.

"Shower well, sexy!" You say, giving a thumbs up making him chuckle then grunt. Mikey stomped the tall male's foot then entered the room to sit on the bed, acting as if nothing happened while Ran grumbles, "Can't feel my damn foot." On the way to the bathroom.

"You're quiet today." The white haired said making you flash a sheepish smile. "I'm really sorry! I don't know what came to last night. Sorry for disturbing your me—"

"You should strip around here more often." Stunned at his words, you just stared at Mikey. "It's entertaining."

In a flash, you hid your head under the pillow as you lie with your stomach on the bed while Mikey stared at you first, wondering what's up before his lips curled up into a small smirk.

"Are you sure about your decision?" He ask, obviously questioning the pet things making you lift the pillow a little and nod your head. "Yeah. You can just think of me as a desperate woman who wants to get laid... despite being surrounded by criminals." You reply quietly as a yelp suddenly came out of you.

"For a virgin, you act like a fucking slut." Mikey deeply said, his hand cupping the cheeks of your ass. "I wonder," He pauses to turn you over and pin your hands above your head so you wouldn't be able to hide your face.

"Which of us is gonna be your first." He lets go of one of your hands to guide it to his hardening cock. "Whose dick will be able to feel your pussy." Mikey leans, a soft peck on your lips.

"I'd be delighted if it were me." He notices the bruises on your neck that was made by Ran earlier, making him frown and bite it, hard enough to draw blood which he licked quickly. Mikey does it a couple of times, satisfied at the sounds you gave.

"Mikey..." Said male lets out a groan, hearing his name come out of your pretty lips. "That's right. Moan my name." Lifting your shirt up, enough to reveal your stomach, he starts to give it wet kisses then looked at you. His dark eyes were piercing as it stared straight into yours.

"Will you let it be me, [Y/n]?"

Finally, Mikey was able to touch, hold, and taste his childhood crush.

the spider’s sense! a spidercaleb series.

♥︎ spider-man!caleb 𝑥 fem!reader

synopsis. ┆ caleb’s life was perfect—until it wasn’t. a radioactive spider bite turned him into linkon’s friendly neighborhood spider-man, the daily bugle started hunting for the man behind the mask, and to top it all off, he was forced to partner up with you—his smart, competitive, and infuriatingly perfect classmate who threatened his spot as number one in the class rankings.

tags/warnings. ┆ college/modern au, academic rivals to lovers, fluff, angst, eventual smut, gran isn’t evil in this LOL, the canon event, college parties, alcohol consumption, cliches, depictions of serious crime, references to the spider-man comics and movies, mdni

a/n. ┆ fanart art is by 长白山小葱头 on weibo. this is my first series on this app to celebrate hitting 1K! if you want to join the taglist, comment on this post or send me an ask.

main masterlist. ┆ talk to me!

chapter one ── pest control.

caleb's worst fear comes true when the two of you are assigned as lab partners, especially after your first experiment together goes horribly wrong in more ways than one. (4.6k)

chapter two ── too easy, this game. (soon)

after you’re forced to check up on caleb, you realize that your methods of revenge can be sweeter and much more interesting than you had originally anticipated.

Daichi, Tanaka, Sugawara , Iwaizumi, Kuroo, Kenma, Lev, Hinata, Bokuto, Oikawa, Sakusa, Atsumu, Osamu, Aran, Meian, Akaashi, Koganegawa, Izuku, Shoto, Shoji, Kirishima, Aizawa, Bakugo

(Ignore that you’re getting your nails done at 21:43💀)

run, rabbit, run

JJK HALLOWEEN! nanamixreader

summary ❥ you babysit for the wealthy single dad who lives across the street. it’s the end of october and his halloween party is the talk of the neighborhood. you’re not invited because the kids are out of town, but you decide to pop up on him anyway, and he shows you just how badly he’s been dying to get you alone without the children.

CONTENT: age gap, 86’d sorcery, dilf!nanami, toys, smut, alcohol, dom!nanami, cunnilingus, afab!reader, fluff, friends to lovers kinda, bossxworker, aftercare, slowwwww burn, reader wears animal ears during sex, breeding kink, spit kink, masochism.

word count. 10k

soundtrack 💿: eating - madeintyo

p.s. there’s a joke in here involving the color of 🐱; i know everyone’s is not the same color so , fill in the blank for the color that fits yours if u have one LOL

✩

You give your ass a good shake.

You’re making sure the long, fluffy tail poking out of your blue shorts isn’t going to fall out. It doesn’t.

You’re dressed as a fox, but not just any fox. A fox cop. You have on a short blue collared top, matching shorts, and of course you’d be no real cop without your utility belt housing fake handcuffs and a plastic baton. To top it all off, you’re wearing fuzzy fox ears on your head, and sheer tights to cover your legs.

You nod in the mirror, satisfied. But the real test, to you, is if Mr. Nanami will like it just as much.

Mr. Nanami is your employer, but more importantly, your neighbor. You watch his two young children five days a week; sometimes even overnight when he has a particularly busy work day. You consider yourself close with them, but your feelings about Nanami are a little deeper than that.

You’d seen him the first time a little under a year ago, when he’d been out on an early morning jog. From then, on you’d become disgustingly obsessed ever since.

Your schoolgirl pining only gets worse every time you see him, and recently you've even gone as far as trying to shamelessly flirt - but he seems to have absolutely no idea. That is the less painful explanation, the other being that he’s just not interested.

But you’re planning to see if you can get that to change tonight. You always dress sensible in front of his children; this will be the first time he's seeing so much skin. It has to work, right?

Tonight, Nanami is throwing the party of the century. He has house workers of all kinds who serve towers of food and delicious mixed drinks. The cherry is that his entire gated lawn has been decorated to the perimeter of fun inflatables and spooky decorations. You know it's mostly for his kids, whom he goes nothing short of above and beyond for.

However, he had informed you days ago that they would be out of town this weekend - and, even if they were not, he's off work, so he doesn’t need you. This means he also had not invited you to his party.

You clearly still intend to show up unannounced, a bold move on your part.

You lock up your house - a small, co-owned property that truly looks out of place across from Nanami's home - which he technically pays the rent for. You carefully make your away across the overcrowded street full of cars, decorations, and humans who are already half past drunk.

As you walk up the stone steps that lead to his front door, your stomach is keyed up. You shouldn't feel any different than you normally do when coming over for work, but you’ve really let this highly unprofessional crush of yours get out of control.

You make it to the porch. You're unsure if he will even hear the doorbell, but you press it anyway. The door slides open after about ten seconds, as if he has been standing there watching it. You feel your body freeze immediately upon seeing him.

Nanami is towering over you in the threshold. His face lights up almost instantly, but that's not all that has your heart threatening to crack open your rib cage; it's also his delicious white button down, popped open by a few to reveal tiny bits of blond chest hair, and then of course there are the long, white ears on top of his head.

“Why hello, officer, did we get a noise complaint?” He chuckles at his own dad joke before bowing his head in greeting. “Sorry, I’m just surprised to see you. I figured you would be thrilled to not have to look at these four walls for a few days while my children are with... their mother.”

You watch his face drop in disgust at the mention of his ex-wife, but he’s never said anything bad about her. Whenever you’d asked why things hadn’t worked out, he’d said "they just didn't." And that was that, but part of you aches to know what had happened.

It shouldn’t matter. He is not interested in you. He gives you a paycheck, and that is all.

"Well," you begin carefully, "Who would want to miss out on the most exclusive Halloween party of the year?"

This coerces a deep laugh out of Nanami, then he steps aside and allows you to walk in. He is holding a short rocks glass of unidentified brown liquor, and you can smell whatever it is in a cloud around him.

Once inside, Nanami’s voice is quite muffled from the clank of dishes and bustle of workers. The two of you stop to stand in the foyer, a grand crystal chandelier winking at you from above.

"Exclusive isn't the word I'd use," he says, following your eyes as he takes a sip. "Everyone and their mother is here. Literally." He tilts his glass towards an elderly woman who stands next to a redhead about Nanami's age.

You should be laughing at his joke but instead, your stomach knots grow tighter at the reminder of how many people his age are here preying on him, the neighborhood catch, with careers and homes of their own.

Nanami is seven years your senior, you think. No wonder he wants nothing to do with a young, non career-oriented thing like you when he has all of these sophisticated people crawling at his feet.

You can't think about that now, or the courage you’ve spent a week building will cease to exist.

"Heh - well, either way," you continue, "it's a big party. I know the kids aren't here, but-"

"But I'm glad you are," Nanami smiles, his eyelids hanging a little low from the liquor in his system. "You look very nice, darling. I like your ears."

He grins and points to his own headband. A grown and very, very large man dressed as something as vulnerable as a little rabbit has your nerves aflame.

"Hmm, I bet you do," you tease. “Like it so much you had to copy me?”

Nanami makes a disapproving sound with his tongue, leaning forward a bit to be eye level with you. "Copy you? I was unaware that rabbits and foxes were the same animal. In fact," he adds, "if I'm not mistaken, foxes are a rabbit's natural predator."

You had been trying to look away from him now that he has moved so close, but as the last sentence rolls out of his mouth, you make the mistake of looking directly into his eyes - and what you see makes your limbs jelly. Maybe it's your delusions, but he seems to be drinking you up equally as much as he is his liquor.

You laugh to pop the bubble of tension, but Nanami's face remains as still as ice.

"Well, I certainly don't think I pose a threat to you, sir," you say, voice unnervingly dry. "You are twice my size."

At this, his intense stare transitions into a soft smile. "You just have to get my guard down. Then, I'm sure a little thing like yourself would be able to have your way with me."

You blink quickly, assuming you've misheard him. Then again, though, he tends to say things that could be flirty - but he is just a naturally charismatic man. Means nothing.

"Ah," you mumble out, shifting your weight from side to side. You have to find a way to change the subject, but most importantly, you need get his attention off of you. You’d wanted it so bad, now you don’t know how to handle it. As you scheme, he sips his drink again, eyes still watching you over the rim of the glass.

"So... the kids always go with their mom on Halloween?" you ask abruptly.

Nanami quickly swallows his sip before shaking his head. "Well I had them for the Fourth of July, you recall."

You do recall. A little too well. Nanami in nothing but tight, black swim shorts and his signature sunglasses as he flipped meat over the grill - and you playing in his pool with the kids. He’d invited you to celebrate the holiday with him after his kids had begged, but your mind was definitely elsewhere. The memory popping into your head almost makes you not hear what he says next.

"We alternate holidays. So I will have them for Thanksgiving, she for Christmas," he shrugs a shoulder. "I would have traded Thanksgiving for Christmas, but alas. Christmas is always the busiest day of the year for me, so they would just miss out on time with their father anyway. I couldn't ask you to ditch your holiday plans for us, again, either."

He sighs. You feel your heart ache; he cares deeply about his kids, but he is definitely a workaholic. That is why you spend every chance you get at his house… well, that’s mostly why. But even then, you sometimes wish you stayed more to help, because Nanami works tireless double shifts, then spends his off days trying to make up for lost time with the kids.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," you say, attempting to comfort him. "You're an amazing father who is doing all he can. They love you so much."

He smiles and bows his head politely, so as to say thank you. "They love you as well. Sometimes, I think more than they do their mother."

You swallow a choke, before rutting out, “Surely not."

Before Nanami has the chance to reply, an older woman who you’d come to known as Agnes walks by with a large tray arraignment of bright green cocktails.

“Nanamin!” she shrieks out. “Where would you like me to put these? Very afraid of them falling. There’s drunkards crawling up the walls! I’ve already swept up sixteen broken glasses! Sixteen!”

You and Nanami turn to look at her with an equally astonished expression.

Nanami leans forward a bit to whisper in your ear, “My apologies in advance for her erratic behavior.”

Agnes is still staring wildly between the two of you as you giggle, awaiting further instructions from Nanami.

“Sit them wherever you think is safest,” he says calmly.

She huffs but ultimately takes his word, speeding off with her kitten heels clacking against the marble floor.

Nanami turns back to you and opens his mouth, but another voice cuts him off.

“Nanami, sir!”

You feel a twinge of irritation in your chest, but you really shouldn’t. He is the host and people need his attention. You should have seen this coming.

“Is everything okay?” he questions politely, turning to face the short brunette in front of him, who bats her eyelashes.

“I… I think that someone is fighting outside,” she says quickly, unable to keep eye contact.

Nanami is a smart man, though. “Oh? Well, what shall we do about that?”

“I thought you could run and stop them,” she says, twisting a piece of her hair around her finger, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m in no mood to be in the middle of a brawl,” he says sternly. “Have the butlers stop it, and remove them. You try not to get involved either.”

She huffs and spins on her heel, walking back through the living room with an angry stomp in her step.

Nanami clicks his tongue, “I really need to have her counseled in compulsive lying. She cries wolf so many times a day.”

You’ve never seen her before, she must be new. This makes you jealous all over again. She’s not quite as old as the rest of the workers, but still older than you. The issue is you see yourself in her, the uncontrollable pining over your shared boss. She just makes hers much more obvious.

Nanami clears his throat, and you notice too late how his hand has slithered to the small of your back.

“Perhaps we should escape somewhere more secluded, hm?” he says. “I really am enjoying our conversation. A shame we keep getting interrupted.”

You swallow thickly. The hair on your spine has raised at his sudden contact, making you shiver.

“Yes, that’s a good idea, sir,” you say, trying to hide how dry your voice has gotten.

Not another word is uttered before Nanami is swiftly whisking you off to another room; his hands now free of his drink and instead gently guiding you by his hand placement.

His gaze is not as focused on you as it is leading you both through the overwhelming crowd of people, and to the hall under the stairs that you know for a fact leads to his workspace. He moves his hands into yours as he gently pushes you ahead of him.

You take the lead and find yourself pushing open the big door to his study. Inside is a complete reflection of Nanami, his wealth and his cleanliness. Even his desk is free of papers, or any indication at all that he works in here.

You recall the days he works from home, in this very study, and he'd still be in his work suit, just minus the blazer. You'd let the kids sneak in on him, only once or twice thoughout the day, just to see his smile; and while you’re already there, you'd drop off a cup of hot coffee to help him plow through the rest of his shift.

He shuts the doors behind you both as you run to make yourself comfortable in his desk chair, spinning around like a child.

As you do so, you fail to see or hear his fingers slyly clicking the lock on the door.

“Much better,” Nanami breathes, moving to flick on a floor lamp in the corner, giving the study a soft, warm glow accompanied by the full Halloween moon. “Now, what were we discussing?”

“You, uh,” you clear your throat as you stop spinning in the chair to face him. “You really didn’t have to come in here just to talk to me. You are the man of the evening, you know.”

Nanami rolls his eyes, an out-of-character action you never thought you'd see, but one that looked so tasty, so sultry. God, you’re a pervert in heat - and your sweet, sweet boss is completely oblivious to the kind of horrible thoughts you have daily about him.

Nanami's now staring at you. His mouth is moving, but you have no idea what he had been saying.

"… to spend time with all of those shallow, insolent creatures,” you register, “when I have someone like you here?" He walks over to the desk and leans against it, right next to you now, as he crosses his arms over his massive chest. "We have never just sat down and talked. We always have little people depending on us or wanting our attention. Tonight, I’d like that to change.”

You let his words simmer for a moment. “What is it you’d like to talk about, Mr. Nanami?” you then question.

“What did I tell you about that ‘Mr.’ nonsense?” He frowns. “That makes me feel so old.”

"Sorry, sir," you gulp, not intending to upset him. You just can't help the way 'Mr.' and 'Sir' roll off your tongue, or how bad you enjoy seeing him shift uncomfortably at the use of the names.

"Meanie," he tuts, knocking you playfully with his leg. Another uncharacteristic action.

"What'd I do?" you blink, tilting your head as you look up at him.

"You mean besides drive me insane with your teasing?" he questions, before his eyes widen and he looks as though he's just spilled a secret. "I- wow, I am sorry. That is not what I meant to say."

"I drive you insane?" you echo. "I didn't even think you noticed my… teasing.”

Nanami's face is neutral, but his jaw is working under his skin. "I’m not naive, little fox." He lets out a breath. “This was truly an excellent costume choice.”

He leans forward and flicks the furry ear on your head.

“Thank you,” you smile. “I can’t say the same for yours. You hardly scream innocent bunny.”

“What about me isn’t innocent?” he raises a brow, standing off of the desk.

“I…” you blink as he walks around to the back of the desk chair. “You’re just, um…”

“Fox got your tongue?” he coos, spinning the chair so that you’re forced to face him.

You inhale a deep breath and hold it as heat travels through your stomach and right to the center of your thighs.

“You’re a man who is about his business,” you say. “I imagine you’ve… had a lot of life experiences,” you pause to remind yourself to breathe, but it’s hard because of how ferociously Nanami is staring into your eyes. “So you c-can’t be all that innocent…”

“You seem nervous,” he coos. “Here. Let’s stand up, I’ll sit down. Maybe that will help you to not be so tense, hm?”

Your body obeys before your mind catches on. You’re standing in a beat, and Nanami has replaced you on the chair. Your bottom hits the crease of his large desk, and you slam your hands down on the surface to balance yourself.

“Sorry,” you say, putting a hand up to cover your face. “I don’t mean to imply that you make me uncomfortable, sir.”

Nanami's pupils flash white, but it's gone so quickly, you might have imagined it. "If I do, please let me know immediately.”

“No,” you say, dropping your hand, “I just think we need to get to know each other better, right? Our entire relationship is through the kids. I know that your son’s favorite shade of green is kiwi, but I don’t even know your first name.”

Nanami chuckles at this. “You know, I was thinking exactly the same thing.” He taps your knee. “Kento, silly girl. My first name is Kento.”

"A-And your favorite color?” you continue, trying to ignore how close he’s moved the chair towards you, now that you have fully planted your bottom on his desk.

“Pink,” he says, serious as death.

You giggle. “Why pink?”

“It’s the color of my favorite thing to eat,” he says, slowly placing his arms on either side of your thick thighs, hands planted flat on the surface of the desk.

You think for a moment. “Strawberry ice cream?”

“No,” he cocks his blond head to the side and his eyes fall on your tights. “Try again.”

You pretend to think, though you fear you may be catching on now. “Hmm, dragonfruit?”

“Nah,” Nanami says, looking up at you through his eyelashes. His pupils have been dilated from the alcohol, but there is an unrelated darkness in his eye now. “Something I don’t even have to swallow.”

You gulp. “Oh,” your suspicions have been confirmed.

“Get it now, little fox?” he coos.

“Mhmm,” you taunt back. “Well, I suppose I came prepared with your favorite dish, then.”

“Did you?” His hands boldly make their way to the top of your thighs, barely hovering over the skin but enough to make the flesh there light on fire. “Prepared it all nice and pretty for me?”

“Yes sir,” you nod eagerly, feeling your own boldness appear as your knees slide further away from one another. “How do you like it?”

“Extra moist,” he grits hungrily, fingernails curving into your tights and shredding a thick rip! through the material.

You gasp, entire torso lurching forward as he drags the hole bigger and bigger.

“Sorry, little fox. They were in the way,” he shrugs an innocent shoulder. “And what should we do about these shorts? They’re in the way, too.”

“Then let’s get them off,” you whisper, hardly registering that such filth had been uttered.

This truly can’t be happening. Is Nanami… Kento Nanami actually going to eat you out? Are his hands really slithering up your waist and fumbling with the button on your shorts, or are you in some kind of sick daydream?

"Mr. Nanami-"

"Please," he holds up a hand, one still remaining on the button of your shorts. "Kento. Call me Kento."

"Kento," you echo softly, and his eyelashes flutter. “You really want to do this?”

Nanami sucks in a breath. Several moments of silence pass, then his fingers are gently pressing against your chin, and he has risen to tower above you. "Maybe it's the liquid courage in me that's pushing me," he says, "but I’m okay with that. I dream about you on my tongue, night after night. I need you, Y/N.”

Instead of allowing you to reply, Nanami's lips are assaulting yours in a flash. A harsh, irrational kiss from a man who's lost his battle of self control.

Your hands fly up to his face to balance yourself at the sheer force the shock of the kiss has on you. He groans softly into you as your lips mold together, getting used to the shapes of each other’s mouths.

You want to begin deepening the kiss, but Nanami is suddenly pulling away.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly. You look at his face; for a man who is always so calm and composed, he is flushed and even shaking a little. “I should have asked if that was okay.”

"Did you hear me complaining?" you ask sternly.

“No-”

“Then shut up and kiss me, Kento.”

He wastes no time obeying your command; this time as he kisses you, his hands find the soft skin where your hips crease into your thighs. You’re aware of your thighs rubbing against his stomach as he crawls further on top of you.

You slide your arms up around the back of his neck to hold onto him as his lips work pure ecstasy into your mouth.

You sigh against him and he digs his fingers into your sides to get you to do it again. Now his tongue is in your mouth, softly swirling your own, smacking fiercely on your lips as he does so.

You're panting now, but Nanami is swallowing your breath with every second. He's leaning his weight on his palm, so his body isn't quite attached to yours, but you want to make him lose his balance so he can crash down on top of you. Every moment that you stay like this, your cunt drips wetter and wetter, seeping through your shorts onto his desk.

"So perfect," Nanami utters into your mouth, "s'much sweeter than I deserve."

You frown at his self deprecation but don't comment, instead your hands start sliding down his chiseled back, exploring the deep ridges and shapes of pure, hard muscle.

Then, plop! You blink in shock as his bunny ears have fallen plum onto your face, nearly gauging out your eye.

"Oh," he gasps, breaking away from you. "Forgot about these."

He pulls away from you, standing upright but staying between your legs. You swallow a needy whine at his absence, before sitting up with him, staring expectantly.

"Think they'll look better on you though, huh, darling?" he coos, reaching over your head and plucking your fuzzy ears off. Then, he’s replacing them with his bunny ears. "There, that's more fitting. I feel much more like the hunter than the hunted.”

You tilt your chin defiantly. "Mm, so I'm just an innocent rabbit in the sights of a dangerous hunter?"

“Clever bunny,” Nanami murmurs, leaning forward and catching you by surprise with a wet kiss at the nape of your neck. You shudder. “Time for me to eat my latest catch, hm?”

“I-I guess so-”

“Oh, don't get shy now, bunny,” he mewls against your ear. “Do you want to do this?”

You pretend to consider it, but your dripping hole has already answered for you. "Yes, sir."

Nanami purrs in response and taps your earlobe with his perfect teeth - before you're being shoved back on the flat surface. Three quick beats occur. Beat, shorts off. Beat, tights off. Beat, panties sliding slowly down your legs.

"God," he says, hooking his fingers over the trim of the panties, which are light blue in color, accented by an adorable pink bow in the front. "All this time, I could've had you like this, if only-” he cuts himself off to lean down and place a kiss to your inner knee.

Your nerves send repeated quivers over you. You dig your nails into the desk, but your palms are so sweaty that your hand slips. Nanami catches you, a heavy hand on your lower back, the other hand entangling in your panties and proceeding to rip them all the way off. Your clothes are now in a discarded pile to the right of you, fuzzy tail and ears a reminder of what got you into this position in the first place.

“Well we can make up for lost time now,” you whisper, sliding your feet farther apart until your knees are angled into the air - gaping pussy winking up at Nanami.

His eyes nearly jump from his body as he watches you open up for him, glistening cunt all in his face. He's sinking back down into the chair before either of you really processes it, and his heavy palms fall flat on your inner thighs.

"She's s'pretty, sweetheart," he coos, the breath from his words tickling your clit and making you writhe pathetically. "Haven't even touched you yet. Why are you shaking?”

You whine out in embarrassment. Something about your most perverted fantasies coming alive before you, Nanami talking to you like this, and him staring directly at the forbidden parts you'd never thought he'd see, is depleting your confidence.

"What's wrong, bunny?" he asks, reading your expression. "You look like you are second guessing this."

"N-No!" you cry out, making him jump, before you sigh. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell. No, I want to. I'm just embarrassed."

"Why?" he perks a brow, astonished.

"Because you're so..." you huff uncomfortably, "fine, and here I am, of course anyone would be embarrassed of their own genitals, y'know I just kind of never expected this and-”

"Y/N," Nanami interrupts. "I've seen plenty of these before; all different types, sizes and colors. I am going to devour you regardless of what you think.”

You swallow thickly. Your head nods like a puppet, though you're unsure if that's you saying you understand, or telling him to go ahead.

While you're deciding, Nanami plants a kiss to your bikini line, then slides his hands to wrap his arms around your thighs so that it's now impossible for you to close them. Your stomach is on fire, and you're on the verge of gyrating your pelvis right into his stupidly perfect face.

"Tell me you want this, bunny," Nanami rasps, placing another loud kiss to your inner thigh.

"I want this," you confirm again, "want you."

You don't have to say anything else because his mouth has already found your clit. Warm breath travels between your folds as he keeps his tongue narrowed out to swirl agonizingly slow circles over the bulb.

Your hips convulse against his strength. It does nothing except prompt Nanami to flatten his whole mouth over your heat and pick up speed with his tongue.

"Oh, ohh," you drawl, your hands leaving the desk surface and going right through his fine hair. His hold on you ensures you can’t fall backwards, but you’re gripping his roots for dear life.

He grumbles against your cunt and you feel it all the way up to your ovulating uterus. The desire to have your womb house more of his children starts to enter your brain and you have to remind yourself that this is just sex.

Oh, but it's so much more than that. Nanami's taking his time to work your body, to know exactly which pace makes you cry out like a pathetic fucktoy, noting when you wriggle under his grip, as he pushes his fingertips into the flesh on your legs.

His warm tongue keeps your puffy lips parted effortlessly; lathering you up with his saliva, drinking in the fluid your body creates more of each second.

You sit up farther to look down at him; his eyebrows are furrowed and focused, his cheeks hollowed as he treats your twitching clit like his tongue’s dance partner.

He swirls, flicks, slurps - each variation unlocking a new noise from you as you fight back your orgasm.

As you watch him, your fucked-out, needy brain begins to tell you would give him whatever he wanted in this moment; six children and a house from scratch if that's what he requested. Because he deserves it; the way his tongue’s now dipping slightly into your desperate hole, making your hips jerk from the desk until he counter-forces them with his hands.

"Where do you think you're going?" he snaps, grazing his teeth over your clit.

You can’t even speak; he’s eaten your voice right out of you. His head shakes side to side as he plants his mouth back on you and peers up through his blond lashes, daring you to pull that stunt a second time.

Your hands are still deeply entangled in his roots, but at this point you can't keep your eyes in the front of your head. Your head lolls back on your neck as your hips twitch with an unholy amount of momentum. Your moans are growing dangerously loud; knowing full well there's an entire party nearby, as well as the possibility of nosy maids. Not that either of you care.

"Kento, s-so good," you lament, bucking your hips into his chin as if you could chase more pleasure than he's already giving you. The heat in your stomach is the first indication that your pleasure is morphing into an orgasm, but you don’t want to cum yet.

You want to try and run again, just to give yourself a little time to catch up…

The minute Nanami feels your hip bones sliding away from him, he pulls his mouth off of you; your orgasm slipping away. You take a deep breath in regret.

“Someone must not want to cum,” he taunts, keeping his mouth close to your trickling cunt. “Need you to stay still.”

“I can’t,” you breathe, trembling.

“Try for me?” Nanami requests softly, lifting your thighs into the air before plopping your feet flat on his shoulders.

He plants a heavy kiss to your clit after the adjustment in your position and you dig your toes into his back.

“F-For you,” you repeat mindlessly, brain officially scrambled like a breakfast platter.

“Mmh-” Nanami grunts, planting his fat tongue back between your slick folds, working his jaw intensely to finish pulling the orgasm out of you. He sticks the narrow tip back at your hole, flicking the rim of the inside as if it’s his purpose for living.

Your toes lift into the air as Nanami tests your flexibility, pushing your knees next to your ears. With the pressure built up in your stomach, you barely have time to mutter out the announcement of your orgasm before you're cumming all over his tongue and clenching your walls around the wet muscle.

"Give it to me, bunny," he moans, words muffled because of the way you're gripping his tongue with your pussy.

You keep shaking for a solid thirty seconds, because he is refusing to take his tongue out of you. When finally you’ve calmed to a slight twitch, he removes his face from between your thighs and the entire lower half of his face glistens in the light.

"That's one," he murmurs to himself, crawling back over you to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips. "You did so well. You taste so sweet, bun.”

"Can I return the favor?" you ask needily, dragging your palm down his chest.

He grinds his pelvis across your lower half, so that you can feel the sheer length of his bulge beneath his pants. "What for?"

Your eyes widen at just how large it feels; surely it's smaller than it appears.

"Wanna please you, sir," you babble out, watching his eyebrows furrow at the self-proclaimed pet name.

"Hm, think that ship sailed long ago,” he chuckles, rubbing his clothed dick against your inner thigh this time, and now, you take notice of the warm trail of precum that’s leaked through his pants onto your skin.

You dig your nails into his chest instead of replying. He bites back a groan and kisses your neck.

“I’m going to have to restrain you if you want’a keep being so touchy," he whispers sternly.

"I do have handcuffs," you say, following it with a giggle. Though you’re only half joking.

"That's cute," he mewls. "You think I need handcuffs to restrain you?" He pauses. "What's that you said? That I'm twice your size?"

You swallow thickly, remembering that you had, in fact, said that.

"So I can, and will easily pin you down, bun," he continues. "Don't act up, and I won't have to, yeah?"

You wish you can say you won’t, but if he thinks you dislike the idea of being pinned down, he must not be faking his innocence, like you’d thought.

A moment later, he's standing away from you, and his hands expertly unbutton his shirt. You watch him with desire, and he smiles a little shyly at you as he shrugs off the garment and tosses it to the floor.

“Funny, you’ve seen me shirtless before,” he says suddenly. “Why do I feel a bit nervous about it this time?”

You giggle and cock your head to the side, legs still spread wide. “Should’ve always felt nervous. I’m a huge pervert, y’know.”

Nanami dips his head before coming back to be close to your body again, his fingers mindlessly tugging on the hem of your shirt now.

“I know,” he whispers. “A little minx, you are.”

“Took you long enough to realize it, hm?” you tease as you lift your arms to assist him in removing the shirt. But you are caught off guard when he doesn’t continue.

"You're still sure you want to do this?" he questions, changing the subject. “I'm sorry. I'm going to ask a hundred times, it’s just a habit.”

"Yes, Kento," you rasp frustratingly. "Do I have to get on my knees and beg to be fucked for you to get it?"

He blinks, stunned, as if that is not something he ever considered; but does sound appealing to him.

"No," he says quickly, slowly lifting your shirt further over your body. "How did we end up here, hm? Was this your plan from the moment you crashed my Halloween party?"

"Uh-uh," you say innocently, as he pulls the shirt over your head. Now you sit completely naked in front of him - save for the bunny ears on your head.

"I get the feeling you're a big, fat liar," he teases, leaning back over you, now your stomachs are touching and everywhere your skin meets is tingling. "Didn't I tell you to be a good girl? Good girls don't lie."

“‘M not lying," you argue. "Admit you were over here waiting for me to show up all night."

"Maybe I was," he murmurs, dragging his top teeth over the connection between your neck and your shoulder before planting a wet kiss on your collar bone. "And you came for me, like always."

A gasp erupts from your throat and Nanami cuts it off by sliding his hand there. He uses his fingers to apply the gentlest amount of pressure to the sides of your neck and your body arches against him.

"Tell me if anything I do is too much for you, little fox," he coos in your ear before dropping his hand from your neck and standing back straight to quickly unbuckle his belt.

He slides the garment out of his belt loops, and discards it to the side, on top of your clothes. So in other words: close by.

"Kento," you pant, "please."

"Please what?" he questions, raising a brow innocently as he pops open the button to his tight pants - visibly taking a deep breath as his bulge pokes free.

"You're dragging this out," you whine. "I've needed you for so long. This is torture."

"So what?" he shrugs, allowing his pants to fall to the floor, where he steps out of them.

"I..." you cut yourself off with a frustrated grunt.

"You said please, but you aren't using your words, little fox.” He slides his body back over yours - his boxers now being the only barrier between you. "What do you want?"

"You, your cock, your mouth," you pant all of it out in one quick sentence. "I... I just need you inside of me, Mr. Nanami."

Your breasts rub against his hard chest, teasing your achingly hard nipples. Just so pathetic. Can’t control yourself. Your brain's swirling with desire and ecstasy for him. If he can't read your mind, you're sure he can see it in your face.

"Okay, sweetheart," he says, voice returning to its usual softness, "you got me. All yours."

He tugs his boxers down quickly, desperately. Now your hips are aligned to each other's. He's still hovering, his cock not even touching you yet. He slides a hand between your legs as his other keeps you steady, gripping harshly on your hip which is sure to leave a delicious bruise.

Your arms wrap around his neck and he drags his mouth across your jaw before attaching his lips to your neck. His fingers gather the drip from your hole, and then he slides them up through your folds and to your clit. He swirls the fingers softly, keeping his ear right next to your mouth so that he can hear exactly what he’s doing to you.

Your legs shake against his ribs while you moan for him, and he grunts as he takes in all of your body's reactions to his touch.

He goes to try and put a finger in your cunt but you grab his wrist. He does not argue with you, which should be a red flag, but you think you’ve won until he takes the hand he had been using to play with you and grips your wrist, yanking it back, and your entire body goes falling against the desk.

Somehow, both of your wrists are being pinned to the wood in one large hand now. You whine and squirm under him, but he doesn't care. His free hand grabs his cock.

He takes the heavy tip and taps it against your clit several times, each time causing you to gasp and arch against him.

"That's right," he whispers above you. "No escaping now, bun."

You blink up at him, lifting your hips to grind your pussy on him, which causes his lips to part and his eyebrows to furrow.

You open your mouth, tongue flying out, wanting to appeal to another twisted fantasy. “Need your spit,” you mumble shyly.

He seems to ponder for a moment before he realizes what exactly it is you are asking, and a moment later he is leaning forward, dripping a warm glop of saliva from his mouth down your throat.

“Mmh-” you moan as you swallow happily, before looking down between your legs where he is finally done lubricating himself on your juice. He's staring at you hopelessly, as if he’s thinking that putting his cock in you isn't going to be enough.

“So nasty,” he coos, “ready for me, sweetheart?”

"Hngh- please," you beg.

Not a second later, hot pressure is at your hole. Nanami slides his hips upward to push himself deeper, deeper, deeper - the girth feeling like it's going to simply rip you in half.

You shriek and shut your eyes tightly, waiting for the pain to pass. It doesn't.

You feel so embarrassed as he takes his free hand to lift up your left thigh, because pain shoots up through your stomach - and not the good kind.

"Ah- wait," you cry out, eyes falling open.

Nanami stops immediately. "What's the matter?"

"It... it hurts," you admit shyly, biting your lip. "Wh-Why d'you have to be so big?"

"Why d'you have to be so tight?" he chuckles back, but carefully slides out of you. "Hang on. I know what will help, little fox."

He pulls away from you, letting go of your wrists to lean over and dig into a random drawer in his desk. You have no idea what he could possibly be doing until he stands back straight, a hand still holding up your leg, while the other holds a small, light pink, bullet-shaped rubber object.

"Brand new," he says, eyeing it as he rotates it between his fingers. "Just put batteries in it."

You swallow as you realize what this implies. He knew he was going to fuck you - or at least, that he was going to use this toy on you at some point. Or, a third worse thing: it hadn't been for you at all.

You don’t want to think about that possibility, though.

He hands the little toy to you, a small buzz coming from it already.

"Hold it for me," he instructs. "I need my hands to keep my prey from running."

You gulp and do as he says, and again he is taking his cock head and pushing it against you, before it slides through the gummy entrance and you cry out again.

You hold the toy to your clit and the feeling travels straight through your veins. You focus on the vibrations and before you can even inhale again, your insides are completely full.

"Deep breaths, bun," he grunts, "feel her o-opening up… now.”

Did he just stutter? Kento Nanami, who's always so composed. You'd made him lose his wording. You.

Nanami takes his hands and pulls your knees up, holding them to his sides, while you keep your hand occupied on the little bullet between your legs.

The combination of the toy plus his cock filling you up and molding your walls against it has you aching to spill over, already.

Now that the searing has begun to dissolve, his cock is gliding effortlessly inside of you - feeling as though the organ was crafted to fit you perfectly. Your juices cover every inch of him, delicious squelches creating a symphony with your moans as Nanami's pace quickens.

He has his hands still pressed on your thighs but he leans forward and gently pulls a nipple into his warm mouth. You don't know what to do with your free hand, so it ends up on his back, nails mercilessly breaking open his skin. He hisses and nips your nipple between his teeth.

"Fuck. Me," he groans, pulling away from your chest to look down at you. You want to make a comment about how you already are, but he just looks so fucked out - so vulnerable. Lips puffy and wet, eyes shut tight, hair dangling over his forehead.

He’s ruined.

He claws his fingers into your outer thighs. His fingers dig so hopelessly into you as his cock swirls your insides, his hips now moving in a rhythmic wave motion.

Your hand falls away from your clit with the toy and you hardly notice that it's gone because now, his pelvis is brushing over it, sweat practically gluing the two of you together.

"Aw," he purrs, and you look up to see that his eyes are staring directly between your legs. "You’re creaming all over me. Shit - your cunt looks so good, swallowing me up.”

Your face heats and you take your hands to grip his arms, as he's now drilling into you so torturously that you're gliding up the desk - the sweat on your back making your skin slick. He notices you're moving away and shifts his hands to grab your hips, holding you down onto him, and now his fat tip is violating your cervix.

"H-Hah Kento, ngh - God," is all you can manage to say, but there’s nothing holy about what his cock is doing to you, as he angles himself upward, attacking your uterus from a new direction.

You shriek, so horribly loud. It sounds like a horror movie - which is fitting. You’ve nearly forgotten that it’s Halloween night; the moon full, your passions like the tides, being pulled to their peak.

You desperately feel a needy confession on your lips but you know that now isn't the time. You can't love a man you don't date... right? But you definitely love the way he's tearing up your insides, sure to leave you swollen and limping.

"I don't remember telling you that you could remove your hand," he snaps, realizing you’ve removed the bullet, "put it back. Now."

You shake your head, begging for mercy. "Was too much, c-can't take it."

"Yes you can," he whispers, leaning forward and hovering his mouth over yours, cognac-scented breath teasing your parted lips. "Put it back, or I stop."

You whine and obey, the vibration revisiting your clit making your body convulse against him.

"Mhmm, like that sweetheart," Nanami coos, staring at you as your face twists every couple of seconds from the introduction of new kinds of pleasure. "Stick that tongue back out for me."

Your mouth is open, drool practically spilling out of the sides in a millisecond. He's spitting another alcoholic saliva drop into your mouth the next.

His breath is ragged as he drags out, "Thought I knew everything. But y’teaching - hah - me new things. Like how I can never live without your pretty pussy, ever again."

You quiver your lip and dig your nails into his back again, ready to cum on his cock.

"S-Stop talking like that," you grit out. "G-Gonna cum if you don't stop."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" he questions harshly. "You can cum over and over. I’m not finished with you."

You shake your head, but before you can fire back, Nanami is suddenly sliding himself out of you. You panic and sit up, staring at him with wide eyes as he drops to sit on the chair.

His hands come up to grab your hips roughly, and he's effortlessly pulling you down off of the desk. Your stomach makes contact with his thighs as he lays you over his lap like a disobedient child.

"Nanami?" you breathe, but he doesn't seem to hear you at all.

"We just needed to pause for a second," he says softly, running a hand down your spine and over the hill of your ass. His voice is very misleading, as are his gentle gestures; you have no idea what's coming.

"N-No," you whine, "I was so close."

"But, naughty bunny, didn’t you tell me to stop?" he questions, distracting you from the fact that his fingers are sliding between your asscheeks and down to your swollen hole.

You jerk in his lap as two of his fingers glide down your slick, parting your thick lips, repeating the process several times just to watch you squirm.

“Y-Yes, but-”

“What’d I tell you about lying?” he grits, and a blink later his fingers have parted from your skin.

You turn to scold him and his hand cracks down on the back of your thighs.

You yelp, but the action exhilarates you in some kind of disgusting way.

“Oh, and here’s another for calling me Nanami,” he spits, another crack landing on your backside but this time - higher, and harder.

“K-Kento, I’m sorry,” you whine, but you truly don’t want it to stop. Your fingers dig into his leg and he hisses, his cock jerking against your stomach as his body responds.

“How sorry, bun?” he coos, voice faking softness before another pop! of his palm stings your skin.

“I’ll be good, promise,” you whisper, arching your hips up to encourage another smack.

“You like this, don’t you, naughty bunny?” he realizes suddenly, and you try to shake your head in denial - but he’s caught on. “Hm. I’ll only accept your apology if you give me two more orgasms. Deal?”

“Two?” you cry. “I-I’ve already had one!”

“Good things always cum in threes, baby,” he murmurs, running his hand over the pretty hand-shaped welps he’s left on your skin. “You can give it to me. You want to be good, don’t you?”

You don’t know when the shift happened, but you loved it. You loved how he was letting his soft facade crumble to the ground so that he could truly slap you around like you were just a hole. Truthfully, that’s all you wanted to be. Wanted to let him take out the stress of being a single father on your guts, fill you up with more babies to care for, and then kiss you on the forehead when it was all done.

Pathetic. This is still your employer, your boss. And not to mention how much older he is. You don’t care, but you’re unsure if he does.

“I wanna cum again, please,” you beg, wriggling your ass up to show him you still needed punishment.

He groans before his two thick fingers are pressing between your lips and then, shoving through the soft ring at your center.

Your body shamelessly arches, but he allows your arms to stay free, clawing into his skin wherever you can get a grip.

Nanami is making his own noises above you but you’re on the verge of tears, wailing and carrying on as he fucks you with his fingers, curling the tips into your squishy ridges to try and drive the cum out of you faster.

“Maybe we should get one of those tails with a plug,” he comments, tone implying he’s thinking out loud. “It’s a shame I didn’t get to see you in your cute little tail while I fuck you.”

“Hngh - no, mmh…” you don’t even know what noises to make anymore. Words escape your brain.

Nothing but mush and the burning of your approaching orgasm are on your mind.

“Hold it in for me,” Nanami requests suddenly, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready for it, sweetheart.”

“God,” you shake your head and clench your thighs, but Nanami’s strong hand forces them back apart.

Your toes curl on the other side of the chair, your head falling forward. The pulse in Nanami’s cock is still drumming against your abdomen, as if knocking on your tummy to threaten you to hold your orgasm.

“I-I can’t,” you say, “Please, can I-”

“Cum.”

Nasty, wet squelches don’t stop as your body sends you over the edge. Your vision blacks and you shake so hard that you nearly roll right to the floor.

He hums approvingly, slowing his fingers down as you clench around them. “Good job, bun. Only one more to go.”

“I can’t take another,” you shake your head, as he gently guides you up into a sitting position on his lap.

“You’re so strong,” he says, “the perfect person for me. The way you always take care of me and the kids, how you fit so effortlessly into our little family. I know you can do this for me, sweetheart. Let me repay you for all that you do for us. Make you feel good.”

You hadn’t expected this little speech. It almost brings you to tears as Nanami gently rubs your back, sliding his free arm underneath your legs to lift you princess-style back onto the desk.

“Say something,” he begs, his voice hoarse.

“I wanted to be good for you,” you grin softly, and he smiles back as he runs his hands gently over the top of your legs. “But you want to be good for me. Which is it?”

“Both,” Nanami whispers. “I told you that you already do everything that keeps me content. Now, I want to please you.”

You realize that he is passing his power off to you. Letting his dominance slip through his fingers and right into the palm of your hand. You think you can handle being in control for your final orgasm, so you grip him harshly by his cock and scoot your ass to the edge of the desk.

He moans so softly that it could have been a whimper. You take his curvy length and drag it up to be aligned with your hole.

“Is your cock alone gonna please me, hm?” you purr, swirling your hips to tease his cock head, salty precum spreading across your hole.

“Y-yes ma’am,” he mutters, body lurching forward as if he’s the overstimulated one.

“Prove it,” you quip, shoving him back inside of you before pushing your hips down onto him.

You furrow your eyebrows to try and pretend the pain of him entering isn’t still intense. You lift yourself off of your palms and feet, using them to fuck down onto his twitching cock.

“Hah - Y/N,” he speaks your name in two sultry syllables, putting his hands on the desk to fully release his control as you use him.

“Baby, I need to fill you up,” he continues, “b-but if you don’t want me to…”

“Yes,” you say, “want me to have your babies, Mr. Nanami?”

“Oh,” he whimpers, “shit. Shit, don’t say stuff like that.”

You whirl your hips on him in the shape of an ‘O.’

“Want to breed me?” you continue. “Make me all big and pregnant?”

“That’s enough,” he snaps suddenly, hand clamoring down on the belt that is to your side, before he grips the garment in his hand. He sits up from where he’d been leaning on you, before taking the leather and slithering it around your neck, pulling it through the buckle, and yanking it towards him like you’re just a pathetic bitch on a leash.

“You had your fun,” he grits, “now you need to remember your place, bunny. I’m going to fill you to the brim until your cunt can’t take anymore and it drips back out of you, got it?”

“Mmh,” you pull against his belt as your hips are no longer the once controlling the pace. “Nanami, n-nooo…”

Your voice tapers off as he fucks you, fucks you so good and hard and mean until you’re drooling and crying and shaking and hissing and-

“Cumming!” you scream, but Nanami shows no signs of slowing down.

“That’s it,” he says. “Number three. What about four?”

“Y-You said…”

“Oh, you’re the only one who gets to lie around here?” he chuckles, a deep hypnotic sound that vibrates against your chest. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m gonna - ngh” and one viscid moment later, Nanami begins to shudder, and it is the beginning of the end.

You cannot tell if you are mourning or rejoicing the conclusion of this insane chain of events, but you forget all about it when Nanami is spurting hot semen all over your taut, spongey walls - that are now sore and quivering from the excessive abuse.

Your name leaves his lips in between the sultry noises he makes, and his body jerks on top of you until he’s finished spewing his load. Now, he stands in front of you with his head dipped down as he pants for several seconds.

“Do you understand how addicting you are?” are the first words that leave his lips after he is able to drag his head up to look at you.

You’re focused on your own huffing as you try to come up with a witty response, but with your brain so fucked out, the only thing you can mutter is “Oh, Kento.”

He nestles his sweaty face into your neck and plants a feathery kiss there, reminding you that he is still the same gentle Nanami that tucks his children in bed at night and drinks green tea in the garden.

He is everything you have dreamed of, but the sex had truly sealed it. Now, as he slips out of you and his cum follows soon after, you feel your post-high clarity morphing into embarrassment at the fact that all you’d been feeling is lust; Nanami deserves so much more than that, including his recognition as a father.

“Why are you staring at me? Have I still got your nectar on my face?” he jokes, and you admire his ability to loosen the tension.

“I’m sorry,” you say meekly, “I just think you are amazing. I don’t want you to think I really did just come for some cock.”

At this, he laughs so hard that his torso shakes. You smile, as it is rare to hear, and you are the cause of it.

He grabs his shirt and begins to use it to wipe himself off, then does the same for you, his movements intentional and gentle as he cleans you up, rubbing all of the puffy, red reminders on your body softly.

“I don’t think that,” he says with a crooked smile. “But whatever the case, I do hope that things have… changed between us.”

You scoff. “I should hope so,” you tease, tilting your head as he stops his hands on your body. “I hope you’re not going around making every person who comes near you cum three times in one sitting and expect to just be friends.”

He grins. “Nah, that treatment is reserved for you, bun.” His hands slide up your hair and pat the fuzzy ears on your head. “We should keep these around, though. But I’d like to take you out before we use them again.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring his face to yours, planting a gentle kiss on his nose. “Of course. You did say good things come in threes,” you grin. “The sex was one. The date will be two. What’s three?”

And your question gets answered nine months later, when Nanami proposes to you on a white beach in another country.

…Right before you go into labor.

But of course, once the baby is out, it’s time to start on number 4 the following Halloween.

A/N 2.0

ty all sm for the love on this series so far i’m rlly havin the time of my life writing all these twisted monster-fucker stories ^.^

~ pennjammin

DATING APP HCS - KAZUHA

Oopsss, I dropped my WIP, khehee, sorry :>

HOTLINE BL☆NG!

summ. wine nights and free will? a recipe for disaster— such as matching your ex on a corny dating app and having him in your bed within that same hour. . .

cw. eventual smut. 18+. fem!reader. alcohol/substance consumption. ex boyfriend!gojo. mild toxicity. breakup & makeup. girlhood ft jjk girlies. unreliable narrator sorta. sukuna slander. mild impact play. mild asphyxiation. oral (f). fíngering. backshōts. reader is a little questionable. self sabotaging my beloved. lowkey angsty. @/3aem on tumblr for art creds. most of these stories are real shit i’ve heard/experienced LOL. can you tell i’ve never used tinder a day in my life? 16.4k words. . oops.

rena’s note. @yung-notorious and her filthy mind. . .

“you like it when i fuck you like this? yeah you do.”

god, you do.

you can’t bring yourself to remember why you’d ever let go of dick this good. the kind that had you taking the rubber off and considering finishing inside. the kind that had you babbling apologies for having done absolutely nothing wrong. the kind that made you begin to believe his careless whispers, empty promises to work things out.

his fingers dig in the column of your throat, the weight of his hand wrapped tightly at your neck. he’s everywhere at once, but simultaneously no where to be found. while you can feel his tip prodding at your most sensitive spot, you don’t feel the overwhelming force of love he once bore with open arms for you.

“nahhh. . . don’t start running now.” you didn’t realize you were. the sheets are crumpled in your tight hold, while your other hand lightly pushes at his lower abdomen. naturally, he pins your wrist at your spine to maintain his ruthless pace, and with another gentle yet cruelly empty promise, “not when i’ve just gotten you back.”

how the fuck did you get yourself in this mess?

friday nights were meant to decompose after a long week. a cute tradition you followed— sipping on moscato wine and munching on takeout with your homegirls while the lamest horror movie played as background noise. the skincare bit happened every third friday of the month, which fell on this particular night, thin layers of korean products lathering at your skins while fluffy headbands sat atop your hairlines, keeping stray hairs away.

it was an easy way of recapping all of your week’s worth of bullshit and listing each girl’s new lineup of men of the season.

girlhood.

“i’m cool off men for a whileee,” you sigh, placing your third wine glass on the coffee table. you tuck your legs back onto the couch, propping your head into your palm. you watch as shoko, who’s seated on the floor, grabs your glass and fills it with another unsolicited round. you narrow your eyes at her, “after the shit kuna pulled— girl, slow down!”

“don’t watch me,” shoko chews at her unlit blunt tucked in her teeth, lifting an arm above her head to pass you your refill. despite the slight spin of the room, you accept the cup against better judgment, “keep talking. what the fuck did he do now?”

“you mean what didn’t he do,” seated in the pink bean bag rested on the floor, utahime quips. in between her teeth sits a wooden stick, drizzled in the honey-like wax residue she smeared over her shin. “i woulda left his ass the second i found out he— FUCK— lived with his mama at his big age.”

as utahime soothes her smoothened skin, yuki leans over the coffee table to grab at the blunt passed over to her. “y/n baby, you know i love you,” she starts off, taking a deep inhale before ghosting the smoke. you can tell she’s about the cook the shit out of you, “but come on— he lives in his parents’ basement. was that not a red flag in itself? is that seriously the kind of man you see yourself marrying.”

“nevermind the fact he’s pushing thirty and still unemployed,” shoko throws in her two cents, takeout back in her lap as she breaks open a new set of chopsticks, “he’s one more ‘tap in’ away from getting caught by the feds.”

“how much y’all wanna bet he’s at the club right now as we speak?” it’s a rhetorical question, but utahime pauses her waxing to check. with sticky fingers, she taps away at her phone, and with a knowing smile she yelps, tilting her screen towards you three, “aha!— and there goes the infamous money spread.”

“cornballllll.” shoko cringes.

you’re filled with dread and shame at the sight presented. god— every single chance you gave this man, he spun around and somehow does worse. it’s not like the two of you were together— never officially, but the sole fact that you’ve let this man treat you as if you were his girl haunts you. you’ve let countless of bullshit slide all because his stroke game came second within all the men you’ve dealt with.

the only thing you’ll give him besides a being a good lay is that you’ve never had issues concerning other women. he’s a very transparent guy— you’ve yet to receive a “hey girlie. . .” text from anybody. though, it isn’t like either of you have ever dropped any hard launches. it was mostly content that only close friends could catch onto— the interior design of his car, your latest set of nails, subtle shots of his tattoos, your purses and jewelry. nothing evident but pretty obvious to those who know.

if sukuna was still cool with him, however. . . yeah, he’d definitely know, considering the fact he purchased most of the purses you own. that’s excluding the fact your favorite necklace, the one with your name engraved, the one you always wear, was also bought by him.

“move,” you push utahime’s hand away from your peripheral, slumping further into the couch. embarrassment floods you yet again, and you drown it away with more wine. much to your chagrin, they spare no mercy as they giggle at your pout, “not too much on me— shoko, you’re literally the one who put me on!”

“don’t do that,” she rolls her eyes, picking at the orange chicken on her platter. you have half a mind at chucking your drink at her. “all i told you was to fuck him. nobody said anything about keeping him around.”

“instructions: unclear,” utahime giggles, smearing another coat of wax mixture onto her calves. “she’s now a year deep into a situationship with a man who files for disability checks to blow on parlays.”

you spring up in your seat, your wine nearly spilling on shoko in your excitement, “shit, i never told you guys!”

“told us what?” yuki kills the blunt in the ash tray, and stretches an arm to grab at her food. she knocks over a few emptied bottles as they roll on the carpet, and winces when one of them knock at shoko’s knee, “my fault girl.”

shoko clicks her tongue, but you loop your arms around her neck as you proceed, “before you bitches attacked me for literally just being a girl,” you decide ignore the way they all groan, “i was trying to tell you all why i finally ended shit with him.”

“well don’t hold back now!” utahime eggs on.

“guess what i found out,” you set the empty wine glass back onto the table. you’re most likely gonna need your hands in this specific conversation, “he bet thirty thousand dollars on the super bowl game— and lost.”

the room falls quiet. utahime pauses in her ripping, yuki drops her noodles from her chopsticks and shoko nearly chokes on her wine. amidst it all, three pairs of eyes slowly crawl to meet your gaze, in complete disbelief at what you’d told them.

“are you deadass?” shoko speaks first, her facial expression almost incredulous. her eyes are teary from her food slipping through the wrong tube. “you’re playing, right? right?”

“she has to be. . . this is a new level of low even for him.” yuki shakes her head, most likely in attempts to give him the benefit of the doubt. you don’t blame her— no sane person would drop thirty grand on a fucking betting app of all things— and on top of that, lose.

“i wish i was?!” you groan, still upset, “the worst part is that he told me that money was supposed to be deposit money for a condo he’d been,” you raise your fingers in air quotes, “looking into.”

“you know what though? this doesn’t actually surprise me,” utahime laughs, as if she hadn’t been in a daze for a solid minute. she rips at the strip, and winces, “didn’t i just say he was getting checks to place on parlays? frank gallagher looking ass.”

“but thirty thousand?” yuki emphasizes, blinking rapidly in her disbelief, “what the fuck would possess somebody to bet thirty grand on anything?”

“grown ass man, by the way.” shoko mumbles mindlessly, before chowing down some more food. you can’t find it in yourself to disagree.

utahime nods, blowing a puff of air, “on god, bro. don’t he got mortgages to pay off or some shit?”

yuki shoots her a deadpanned look, “girl, with what house.”

and that had been your final straw with him. not the fact he lived in his mother’s basement despite clearly having money to rent out a place, or the fact he was still flexing bands he allegedly has on the gram— but blowing all your money on a fucking football game. and losing. you do respect yourself, as much as these girls believe you don’t. a man with no ambitions and no money? you need to run and far.

“i’ll miss his dick though.” you pout, the alcohol already coursing through your body. being wine drunk always made you horny, that was a known fact, and letting go of one of your greatest eaters was not on your bingo card. naturally, the girls roll their eyes at your antics, “boo me all you want— he horsed me the fuck around in bed.”

“you used to say the same shit about gojo,” utahime points out, rising to her feet as she grabs the used strips in her hold, before circling around the couch, “and look how that ended up.”

technically. . . she wasn’t exactly wrong but that still stung a bit. “hime, seriously?” shoko rolls her eyes, and you feel her hand rubbing at your foot soothingly. her motions are a little stiff but you appreciate the sentiment, “we get you don’t fuck with him but he was still her man. and basically my friend, kinda.”

you hear her wince in the kitchen, followed by footsteps, “right. . . sorry girlie.” she runs back to you after throwing the waste away, and kisses at your temple. she doesn’t comment on the pout on your lips. “i didn’t mean it. . . okay maybe i did, but i’m still sorry!”

your history with gojo was complicated. you’d met him through shoko in your third year of college, at a kickback party hosted by his people. it’d been an invite only thing, but shoko had brought you along as a plus one, and you both instantly connected. as far as you were concerned, it was technically supposed to be a sneaky link vibe, but you soon learned gojo was anything but sneaky. in fact, he was so vocal in him wanting you, that he actually did end up getting you a couple months later.

he’s a year older than you, therefore he’d graduated a year ahead. the separation in itself was something you hadn’t looked forward to at all, but he had found himself a condo downtown, not too far from your residency, therefore seeing each other hadn’t been an issue. he always made it clear he wanted to see you— even after gruelling nine to five shifts in the office. his words matched his actions, driving you up to his place since yours had a stupid curfew policy for visitors.

(you’ve kept him in your dorm numerous times.) (your closet has suffered enough with his lanky ass.)

the first year worked out for the better. he was still welcomed to the parties you invited him to, he made time in his schedule help you with your studies, planned consist dates and even took you out on trips. he was physically, mentally and emotionally present— and you genuinely believed he would be your forever man when you’d introduced him to your parents at your graduation ceremony and he seemed thrilled. they adored him— and that says a lot considering they hated all your other exes. with good reason, but still.

it’d been the honeymoon phase until it wasn’t.

you expected arguments. those are inevitable in relationships, but with every argument he grew distant. you were now both graduated students juggling between jobs, rent and a relationship. it was a lot— your schedules never seemed to align which jumbled into multiple failed dates, which further escalated into more arguments. it hadn’t always been him, you could agree you were at fault too. that post graduation depression spiralled worst than you’d anticipated— the fear of falling behind when your boyfriend had already been successful so early into his career entirely consuming.

he reassured you plenty, but you could see it in his face as he spoke to you— he was exhausted. of work. of life. of you. he had bigger fish to fry than dealing with a workaholic girlfriend with low self esteem. the bigger the promotion, the less your value. you’d seen this play out before— it was less i love you’s and more hours in the office. less dinner dates and more project plannings.

the more time you spent by yourself, the more your mind began overthinking. you had no place in his life anymore. you didn’t resent him for it— you wish nothing but the best for him. he deserves to be successful in life, and he’s already so close to it. your slacking behind is nothing more than dead weight in his rise to the top.

the breakup had been anticipated. you’d broken up with him first. he never asked you to explain why. he nodded, never uttering a word. it’d been the first time you’d seen him in weeks. you kept it simple, “we should break up.” and he kept it even simpler, a curt bounce of the head in agreement. as quick as he’d entered your apartment, he left.

and that’d honestly been it. you’d been together for four years, and broken up for a year and a half. after all this time, you still don’t resent him for it. he made the rational choice in prioritizing himself and his future, and you simply didn’t fit in it. it took you quite some time to work on yourself as well, and you’re honestly satisfied with where you are in life. the breakup clearly worked in favour for you both.

it sucks that he was genuinely the only man you ever cared about. the only man you can confidently say you loved.

“look— now you got her thinking about him!” shoko complains, chucking the nearest thing— a throw pillow, at utahime. it hits her square in the face, to which she lets out a muffled oof! “way to fucking go.”

you blink out of your thoughts. well that’s embarrassing, you got caught up in the past again. you lift yourself from the slumping position you’d unintentionally fallen into the midst of daydreaming, “shit, my bad. got flashbacks to that time he ate me off the bone after his first promotion.”

“yo, what?!” yuki hollers, falling into a fit of laughter. shoko rolls her eyes so much you’re thinking it’ll get stuck at the back of her skull and utahime physically cringed from head to toe. “so fucking unserious— here we are, worried about your ass and here you go, upset you lost your best eater.”

not exactly, though there was some truth to her words. gojo was your best eater, and nobody’s topped him since. he really did tongue fuck you that night like you were the boss who raised his pay. but it wasn’t just the sex you missed— you wholeheartedly missed him. the closest thing to a soul bond you’ve experienced, now gone.

they don’t need to know all that though.

“oh come on,” utahime groans, picking at her nails. trust her to find any reason to slander your ex. for what reason? she’s never told you other than him annoying the fuck out of her, “he could not have been that great. it can’t be anything you can’t find elsewhere— plenty of men eat pussy.”

“okay but do they enjoy eating it or is it more of a duty thing?” yuki points out, rolling her thumb on her lighter mindlessly. she watches the flame arise, casting a soft glow on the sheet stuck to her face, “because you can definitely tell the difference. one eats for foreplay, the other eats for his own pleasure.”

shoko hums in agreement, still poking at her plate, “a man versus a munch,” and with a beat of silence, she takes a deep sigh, throwing her head back, “i should call him.”

“no! no you should not,” utahime laughs, before shooting you a glance. your smile quickly falters and is switched with a look of confusion as she points a nail filer in your direction, “and you,” you cock a brow, “stop thinking about him. we’re supposed to be independent women, y’all need to stand the fuck up.”

“hime, please, you were literally just complaining to your close friends about your latest dry spell.”

“irrelevant!” she dismisses yuki, waving a hand absentmindedly. you don’t see how it’s irrelevant exactly, but you let her proceed. “we are sexy, successful and strong women. stop relying on the past and focus on the future. there are bitches that fought for their lives for the freedom we have! you could literally get dick anywhere— they actually have apps for it, if you didn’t know—”

“so tell us, o’mighty one,” shoko cuts her off, “are you suggesting we download tinder to relieve our stress?”

she remains quiet, and you can see the gears churning in her head. you’re about ninety nine percent positive shoko was fucking around, but the scrunch in your friend’s eyebrows tells you she’s seriously contemplating the idea, “. . yes actually.” she finally decides.

“hime. . .” shoko groans, but is effectively cut off when she springs up to her knees to grab at her phone.

“no, seriously, think about it!” she scrolls through her phone like a maniac, searching through the app store and typing the name in. you all watch her incredulously, her enthusiasm in the matter as if she hadn’t been preaching about feminism half a minute ago, “i’ve met some of my best lays in college through tinder. i haven’t been on this app in years though.”

you don’t see why not. you were pretty tipsy and would never have agreed to this under typical conditions, however it could be regarded as a bonding activity. you also haven’t been on tinder since before your last relationship, and the shit sukuna put you through this past year was enough to make you want to deal with literally anything else.

“i’m down.” you pull out your phone, and shoko may have gotten whiplash with how quick she snaps her head back to eye you. you shrug your shoulders, “we don’t have to take this shit seriously— god knows i’m not entertaining anybody on this app for real.”

“exactly!” utahime nods, walking up to scoot herself beside you. she nudges at shoko with her foot, who flicks at her toes to keep her away, “it’s just for shits and giggles.”

“i’m definitely not doing this shit,” yuki crawls to sit at the couch’s feet, right at shoko’s side, and grabs at the remote sitting uselessly on the table, “but i will be watching you both embarrass yourselves.”

“the only other bitch with common sense here.” shoko sprawls her legs onto yuki’s lap. she receives a slap at the back of her head by utahime, and naturally she slaps the hand right back. “can’t stand that little fucker sometimes.”

“aweee, love you too!” she blows a kiss at her to which she receives a middle finger. you snort, eyes glued on your screen as you redownload that forsaken app back into your phone.

you’d probably regret it in the morning, but that was something saturday you would have to deal with. as of right now, with white wine in your system, logic was not an option. you were learning to live more in the moment, and apparently that starts with the corniest dating app in the world.

it’s not like you’d magically stumble upon your ex on the platform. now wouldn’t that be something? ha!

there’s no fucking way.

this had to be one big, fat cosmic joke. a cruel prank, even. and if it was, then the universe had a twisted sense of humour. you still don’t believe it— were the girls in on this? this kind of shit didn’t just happen to anybody.

it took about a total of twenty minutes between logging back into your old account, updating your password and bio, and swiping left on passing profiles until you landed on it. on. . . him.

you blink slowly. your phone is shaky beneath your unstable hands, and you’re pretty sure you’ve been holding your breath in far longer than recommended for the average human. it’s quiet as fuck in the room— despite the three girls huddled over your shoulders, sticking their noses in all directions to get a clearer view of your illuminating screen— almost as if to confirm if what they were seeing was truly was they were seeing, as if this was all too fucking ironic to be true.

there’s a knot of anxiousness that simmers in the pits of your stomach. you’re pretentiously aware that even the slightest movement— one wrong click or swipe, would ultimately change everything. there was too much at risk here. “oh there’s no fucking way. . .” shoko speaks up first.

utahime leans in impossibly closer, a few centimetres away from fully emerging with your iphone as her nose scrunches, “way too sexy? fuck around and find out? god, he’s still so corny, i swear.”

your eyes trail over his biography, curiously. that “way2sexy” had been an inside joke you both shared years ago— back when drake had dropped one of gojo’s favourite albums, certified loverboy. he overplayed the shit out of that song when it came out, so much that you received multiple complaints from your RA for “public disturbance”, but he swore it worked as daily affirmations for him in the same sense crystals and tarot cards worked for spiritual girlies. you called him corny for it, but before you knew it, it’d shown up in your spotify wrapped the following year.

rapid memories of morning rays of light peeking through blinds, a groggy yet mysteriously clear “alexa, play way 2 sexy” as you fixed your sheets and lit your candles, fighting over who gets to spit toothpaste residue first, hearty laughter to fumbled lyrics, shared minty kisses paired with one “gimme one more” too many.

the ache clenching at your heart is hard to ignore.

“i would give him the benefit of the doubt in believing he hasn’t updated his account,” yuki draws out, eyes narrowing as a finger sticks out to point, “but his age matches. emoticons as a grown man. . . no shade though.”

his age did match. inside joke aside, none of it was adding up. if he already had his account set up years ago, had he willingly changed his bio to one of your most infamous gags after the breakup? if you were to swipe right right now, would it instantly match? you don’t think you want to figure it out— both possible outcomes scaring you shitless.

“should i swipe left?” you speak uncharacteristically softly, torn between the idea of tucking your tail inwards and running away from the opportunity or your typical it is what it is mentality.

“yes! obviously— mmmph?!”

“do you want to?” shoko, with a pillow stuffing an agitated utahime in the face, counters. between all the girls, she seemed to understand you the most, granted her own relationship with the man. you’re sure he had given her his own version of their breakup, how you’d opened the doors to endless opportunities for him, had given him the easy way out. you never bothered asking her, afraid of the illusion you’d created to shield yourself shattering, “only you have the answer to that.”

“i honestly don’t know,” you sigh, joints in your thumb aching from hovering over your screen for too long. swiping left meant completely abandoning any the possibility of the two of you as one. you don’t want that responsibility weighted on your shoulders again, “what if he’s moved on? the shit that’ll do to my ego if i swipe right and he passes on me?”

shoko finally grants her friend the permission of speech, freeing her off the couch decoration, though the look she gives her serves as a warning to tread lightly. with a heavy breath, utahime releases a puff, “i’d crashout, just sayin’.”

“but what if he hasn’t moved on?” yuki poses, and apparently that was all the confirmation you needed to swipe. fuck pride— pride wasn’t going to get your back blown out. pride wasn’t going to help you get the love of your life back. pride can go fuck itself.

“wait—”

utahime is cut off again, however, not by shoko but tinder itself. the notification pings loudly, resonating in depths of your ear cavity and shoots straight to your chest. you can feel your heart pounding wildly against your rib cage. it’s so silent you can hear a pin drop, and the way your gut churns gives away the end result to your spontaneity.

it’s a match.

“well. . . shit.” shoko slumps back into the couch nonchalantly, and you don’t need to see her to know she’s sporting a smirk. you do feel her knee knock into yours. fake ass idgafer.

you’re no better, biting down your bottom in order to suppress the smile itching to spread. a year later and the sole idea that he’d already came across the same mindset as you, willing to give whatever it was that needed a second shot, had you beyond delusional. god, you need help.

“look at youuu, cheesin’ and shit!” yuki pokes at your cheek and you swat her hand away, ultimately caving into the smile. fuck yeah you were geeked— it’s hard carrying a nonchalant attitude when you were an honest to god, soft hearted lovergirl. if you played your cards right, with a few lash bats and glossy lips, you’d be getting dicked down in no time.

“i’m gonna be sick.” utahime deadpans.

“and i’m getting dickkk,” you sing, jumping to your feet as you stood on the couch. you turn around, hands clutching onto the headrest, giving your ass a cute shake as it rotates in circular motions. you feel shoko’s hand tapping it encouragingly, her phone illuminating as it records while she rests her head on your moving thighs. you hear yuki cackle, pulling out her phone to film as well. you giggle, “rip that pussy!”

“ayeeee!” they complete the lyrics, and the vibes are restored yet again, girly giggles filling the room. when your legs begin to feel wobbly, you stop your twerking to plop yourself right back down, leaning your head onto shoko’s shoulder.

you hear her click her tongue as the recording of your ass graces her screen, and she groans, “gojo is one lucky bastard— he can’t handle all that.”

he most definitely can, and has. you’ll opt with shrugging in the meantime.

“with that being said,” utahime jumps in, crossing her legs, “what’s the next move here? you reaching out first?”

your lips straighten as your mind reflects. if you still know him as well as you think you do, he’s definitely going to text you first as soon as he sees the green light. sure, you were anxious for a reply, desperate to check what his temperature was— but you’d already sacrificed a grand amount of dignity just swiping right. he could do take on the role of texting first.

“nah, i’m almost a hundred percent sure he’ll—”

ping!

you all whip your heads to the source of the sound. your phone. the screen shines as it undergoes facial recognition, and exposes the messenger. from tinder. gojo. sending you a message. just as you’d expected.

you can’t help the cocky smile, eyes trailing at their perplexed faces, “—text me first.”

naturally, the girls are impressed. even you are— that timing? would it be insane to genuinely be considering gojo might honest to god be your soulmate? yuki blows a puff of air, followed by a laugh, “your pussy has to be magical cause what the fuck?”

“ladies and gentlemen,” utahime stands to her feet, fisting her hand into an imaginary microphone, and addresses her fake crowd. in the hostiest voice she can muster, she curtsies as she continues in comedic fashion, “miss pussy fairy in thee flesh.”

“put a stamp on it.” shoko shakes her head in acknowledgment, laying her own phone in her lap as she claps. yuki places two fingers in her mouth and whistles at you, to which you rise to your own feet and dramatically place a hand over your chest in faux humility.

“oh please!” you flatter yourself, tucking your hair behind your ear. you smile behind your palm, your improv classes in high school coming in clutch, “this is too much— thank you! thank you deeply.”

“girl, byeee,” utahime breaks character first, giggling as she sits back onto the abandoned bean bag. you mimic her motions, as she pops open a stray water bottle and swallows a big gulp, “open his text! i wanna see what he said!”

you’re in the same boat, thumbing at your phone to unlock it and open the app. naturally the girls hover over you yet again, just as eager to see how he finally broke the no contact phase. it took him less than three minutes to slide in your messages, as the option had finally been granted.

right as your thumb hovers the message, a hum draws out your throat, “how much y’all wanna bet it’s something corny?” you tease, something close to a hunch giving it away. seeing as your assumptions were deemed accurate just a few minutes ago, the only way he’d think of clearing the ice would be with something plausibly lame.

“open itttt!” utahime ushers you, hands clamping at your shoulders. you roll your eyes, letting her dramatics sway your body back and forth before she lets up. you let out a sigh, and open the unanswered message.

and just as you’d predicted. . .

@gsatoru: they say shooters shoot 👀

“oh brotherrrr,” the girls groan in sync, and even you can’t stop the cringe that stiffens your face. if there’s one thing that hasn’t changed, it’s the fact he still doesn’t act his age. he needs to let those college days go.

“now, what’d i tell y’all.” you tut, leaving out the part of nostalgia simmering deep and warmly in your bones at his predictability. ever the goofy he was, gojo satoru. jeez.

“i was really found myself rooting for him too,” shoko sighs, rising to her feet. she dusts at her lap then stretches her limbs lazily, “i’m gonna go pee— hime, i swear to god, don’t take my seat.” she doesn’t look back to flip her off when she hears utahime blow raspberries her way. to which, against shoko’s wishes, leaps over to snatch her seat.

both you and yuki give her a deadpanned look, but yuki voices out your thoughts, “she’s gonna get on your ass and i’m not helping you out.”

“girl, boo.” utahime rolls her eyes, “more importantly, what the fuck do you answer to that?” her nail taps at your phone screen, peering at you expectantly through lashes.

you consider your options. do you reciprocate the same energy or do you call him out on his corniness? matching his vibe would be like starting off a blank slate— a new start, new conversations, something almost superficial. like a fling you meet at the bars for one night of fuckery that you regret the next morning. but calling him out would induce in falling into familiar patterns— calling him a cornball while he attempts to sweet talk you, old conversations brought up, risking broken boundaries for the sake of reminiscing.

decisions, decisions, decisions.

“i’m thinking taking the easy way out.” you nod your head, readying your fingers as you type your response out.

you miss the exchanged glances between utahime and yuki, too busy trying to format how to come off playful but not forgetful. flirty but not desperate. come pull up on me but demurely. well you’ll be damned— in what world had you ever expected second guessing yourself for gojo?

“what’s the easy way out?” yuki asks, and you hit send. where this confidence comes from is beyond you, but any error you make you can blame on the wine (you’re hardly fazed but it’s nice to have something to pin the blame on instead of yourself) (old habits die hard).

you tilt your phone, holding it out as you watch the girls’ brows furrow, eyes scanning over the screen. when their faces contort into a look of amusement mixed with horror, a girly giggle escapes your throat.

@yourstrulyname: sukuna ryomen wsp with you?? 🙈

“you didn’t!” utahime hollers, her laughter so intense she doubled over to clutch at her stomach. yuki sways her body back and forth as she finds herself in a hysterical fit as well. “goddd, i would kill to see the look on his face right now.”

“yooo, that’s evil.” the blonde swipes at a tear. “woulda had me deactivating the whole account.”

“who’s deactivating?” shoko pops back in, not without slapping utahime upside the head. she ignores the way utahime complains in favour to swipe a nearly emptied bottle to pour.

“it’s not even that bad,” you defend yourself, flashing her your screen as she installs herself in the bean bag utahime once occupied. her eyes squint as she reads the conversation, nearly bulging out their sockets when she catches your message, “nahhh, don’t give me that!”

“if he gives you the time of day after that,” shoko swirls the wine in her glass, snorting, “he must really still be in love with you.”

“he should know i’m playing. . .” you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince the girls, him or yourself. you really were just joking around— albeit a terrible joke, but one regardless! sukuna was officially removed from the roster, a financially irresponsible man never standing a chance against you, “right?”

“don’t ask us?” utahime chimes in, uselessly, to which you roll your eyes. well shit, maybe you should double text? let him know you were just fooling around, trying to check temperatures and establish the mood. your phone pings again, and all unnecessary thoughts are thrown out the window.

@gsatoru: oh so you got jokes now?

as you’re about to let him know you’ve been had jokes, but never the goofy type, you see the bubbles pop up, a telltale that he’s got more to tell you. you let him have it, already having possibly fumbled the mission before even starting. it feels like an eternity and a half waiting on his text, the girls having huddled over you yet again, just as curious to see what he had to counter with.

@gsatoru: can’t be a joke if the guy had you outside on valentine’s day tho. stk steakhouse? really girl?

your jaw falls slack. you watch with burning eyes at your screen as your built up suspicions were ultimately confirmed. okay, so those two were still somehow connected. you didn’t like to question male friendships, the lack of loyalty not one you’d ever understand. god forbid you ever started fucking with utahime’s ex of many years.

“wait. .” said girl speaks up, drawing the word out as she processes his answer. her tongue rolls around in her mouth, face cringing as the next words follow, “i can’t lie, he kinda ate you up.”

“just sassy as fuck,” shoko laughs, and it’s one of those giggles reserved to shit she honestly finds hilarious, “really girl is crazy. all comfortably like he’s one of your homegirls.”

“now what’s wrong with stk’s?” yuki grumbles, picking at her nails with a childish pout on her lips, “everybody isn’t born with a silver spoon plugged up our asses. god, i can’t stand rich people.”

you don’t bother answering the girls, already aware he chewed with his response, that he’s as sassy as he was years ago and that he had found that particular steakhouse shabby despite it being a fucking steakhouse. these were things you already knew. your thumbs proceed before your mind can register,

@yourstrulyname: been keeping tabs on me?

“you don’t look too happy,” shoko pokes at your cheek. there’s an ache creasing in your forehead, and you relax the furrow of your brows. you’re not exactly upset, just a bit on edge with his approach— you can’t tell whether he’s on tens or not. whether he’s genuinely joking around or not.

“i’m fine.” you poke back, and she nods. she ushers the other girls to pick a new movie to play, and you clock this is her way of allowing you some privacy between exes. you shoot her a grateful look, and she offers a sly wink. you’ll make sure to update her on whatever happens as soon as it’s over.

you switch your ringer off, and open his new message.

@gsatoru: hard not to when he posts you like he has smth to prove

@yourstrulyname: who said it was me?

you knew it was you. you knew he knew it was you. but still, you wanted to hear it from him yourself, wanted to know if he really was keeping tabs on you ever since the breakup. it’d help ease your mind with unanswered questions.

@gsatoru: you mean besides the bags and jewelry i got you?

@gsatoru: your build was a dead giveaway. could recognize you blindfolded in a room full of women

you bit your lip. you could work with this text, play around with it and see if shit flips. would he fall for the bait? you’ll start off slow, create an opening and see if he decides to indulge.

@yourstrulyname: like what you saw?

he answers instantly and your heart sinks a bit.

@gsatoru: of course

@gsatoru: you’re as a beautiful as the day you left me

is that how he saw it? you assume you did leave him in a practical sense, but there was no way he hadn’t seen it coming miles away. you had both been caught up in your lives, the additional stress of romance an unwanted factor in the rise of your careers. so yeah, you’d given him the opportunity to leave. it’s not as if he fought it anyway, so did you really leave him if he’d closed the door on his merry way out?

this was starting to get personal. toeing between the line of uncharted territory and familiarity. everything you didn’t want— debriefing the logic behind the underwhelming breakup on tinder of all places was out of the fucking question.

@yourstrulyname: you still cool with sukuna?

@gsatoru: something like that

@gsatoru: he’s slimey as fuck for sliding on you tho

you figured as much. you couldn’t imagine a world where gojo wouldn’t feel some type of way at his friend going after his ex girlfriend a couple months fresh off a breakup. he probably felt the same way towards you, the difference being one owes him more loyalty than the other.

@yourstrulyname: and what does that make me?

@gsatoru: did he mean something to you?

he didn’t. you think of the importance of somebody meaning something to you— the fear of losing that person larger than life itself. the joy of waking up in that person’s arms on a rainy morning. the vulnerability in bonding souls with that person. the relief your body undergoes as it melts in that person’s embrace.

he didn’t mean shit to you.

@yourstrulyname: no

@gsatoru: then that makes you someone who made a choice

neutral and impassive. you wondered if he truly meant that. in a sense, you assume he really did mature.

@yourstrulyname: so he’s in the wrong but i’m not?

@gsatoru: who am i to assign right from wrong? you’re both adults at the end of the day

you don’t know what to answer to that. there was a lot of truth to his words— you were both consenting adults with choices made. jeez, just what had gojo gone through all these months that made him none the wiser? you’re considering leaving him on opened for a while, at least until you come up with an answer to that philosophical ass message, when he double texts you.

@gsatoru: this is so backwards lmaoo. what’s good with you? how’ve you been?

so he realized it too. thank fuck— skipping small talk and diving into the nitty gritty this late at night was not how you expected your night to go. the girls had completely forgotten your predicament, invested in the latest reality tv show flashing on your flat screen.

@yourstrulyname: been good. you?

@gsatoru: wow you’re as dry as ever

@gsatoru: life’s been blessed, could be better tho. too much to explain over text

oh? was this what you were thinking it was?

@yourstrulyname: what are you getting at, gojo?

@gsatoru: gojo? so it’s fuck me then

@gsatoru: not getting at anything. ball’s in your court, yn

so it was. you contemplate it for a second— should you invite him over tonight? the girls won’t be upset about kicking them out, and if anything they’d encourage you to call them as soon as it’s over. you suppose your doubts lie within the idea of having your ex boyfriend back into your territory. in the comfort of your home, a home he’d once already graced.

as scary as it sounded, you also desperately craved seeing him. it’d been a solid eighteen months since you’ve broken up, and thirteen since you’ve last seen him entirely. ironically, around the time you started getting involved with sukuna. you weren’t sure if it was your heart or pussy talking, but laying up in bed with this man was not something you were against.

fuck it.

@yourstrulyname: you know where i stay at

and his response comes instantly.

@gsatoru: be there in half an hour.

oh fuck.

“yo. . .” you speak up, for the first time in a few minutes. the girls turn their heads, acknowledging you, as you shut your phone close and chuck it across the sofa. “i love y’all but y’all gotta go, like now.”

shoko shakes her head, but there’s a smirk on her lips. utahime, as lost as ever, gives you a frown. yuki has most likely caught on, rising to her feet, dusting her lap, “say no more.”

the girls do you an immense favour as they excuse themselves. they pick at empty bottles and containers, throw dirty dishes in the dishwasher, rearrange the throw pillows and even light up your candles. you feel bad for kicking them out so late, so you pitch in some money for gas as well as the inconvenience.

as they cleaned out your living room and kitchen, you’d rushed to your shower for a mini cleanse. pulling out your bests, you wash over intimate parts thoroughly, lathering your limbs in scented soap, before rinsing, brushing your teeth and stepping out. you stare at your reflection through the haze of steam, the foggy mirror reminding you of the missing messages he used to leave on mornings you had to get to work.

no point in dwelling on the past when he was on his way over this moment. you swap your silk robe for the skimpiest loungewear you own— matching camisole and shorts, and let your hair cascade back down. you’re about your fifth spritz of body spray when the doorbell rings, and your stomach flutters.

you halt in your step when you notice how fast you’re going. yikes! the last thing he needs is his ego inflating, knowing you were rushing to get him inside, nevermind the fact you washed, pulled out your sexiest pyjamas and even wore a brand new pair of panties. you know. . . just for preparations. better safe than sorry.

after the third mindless lap around your kitchen, you make your way towards the door. you inhale sharply, clenching at your shaky fingers, easing your nerves. you quickly snap out of your daze, pulling the door open.

his eyes, momentarily distracted by the number engraved in the wall next to your door, glaze over your figure curiously. his hands are tucked in the pocket of his sweatpants. he lets out a breath, a sound borderlining a chuckle as it shoots straight to both heartbeats, shoulders drop from its hunch,

“hey.”

he’s thick.

no perverted shit. you’ve noticed he’s put on weight in the right places— not to say he’d been anything less than nicely built in the past, but his biceps are significantly fuller and the material of his compression tee stretched over bulging muscles in a telltale pattern.

somebody’s been at the gym one too many.

“you good with this?” he mumbles, hand running across the smooth skin of your calf. with every stroke of his palm are fleeting memories of the past, burning deep into your limb. you hate the way your stomach sinks st the thought, “me being here and shit.”

“wouldn’t have let you in if i wasn’t.” you answer honestly, back pressed into the arm of the couch. you don’t understand how fast he’d gotten comfortable with being in your personal space just like that— you don’t understand how you’d allowed him in your personal space just like that.

he nods, and the air is eerily quiet. you watch with furrowed brows as he traces shapes into your skin with his fingertip, a frenzy of emotions resembling those of turbulence all in cerulean eyes. he’s torn— you can see it in the way his nose scrunches, as if he’s debating on whether he should voice out his thoughts or not. whether it’s worth debriefing— if this is his last shot or not.

with all this time passed, he’s still so easy to read.

“what is it?” you sigh, albeit irritated. the last thing you’d planned when you got rid of your friends in favour of having your ex over was this weird ass tension roaming. crazy sentence to speak— you know, but you were really hoping it’d be less talking involved and more sexing. it wasn’t that you were against conversing with him, but the way he was choosing to go about it was just so. . . awkward .

he senses the irritation laced in your question and immediately chuckles. his laugh sounds breathless, almost dry, but he shakes his head. his free hand swipes at his nose, a tic of his you noticed years ago whenever he’s feeling bashful or caught, and clears his throat.

“how’d you and sukuna happen?” he rips off the bandaid, and asks you the last question you wanted to hear. the tracing on your leg slows down, and your arms tighten a bit around your torso.

you let out a puff of air. if gojo notices your discomfort, he doesn’t mention it. in fact, he doesn’t pull the question back at all— he stares at you intensely, as if baring into your soul, as if the answer to his question will determine whether the boulder weighted on his shoulders will free him of restraint or not.

as if he still stood a chance or not.

“not much to say,” you shrug, as dismissive as possible. he doesn’t budge, the same intensity in his gaze and you roll your eyes, “honest to god. we broke up, he was there at the right time and shit happened.”

the words simmer into the stillness of the night, and he swipes his tongue over his lips pensively, “were y’all ever official?” he pushes, and you click your tongue against your teeth, offering him a deadpanned look. seriously, as if he didn’t know his own friend— in what world was sukuna anything worthy of official?

“god, no.” you shudder, and he nods again. “you know your friend.”

“i don’t,” gojo counters, momentarily wrapping his hand around your ankle. it fits as perfectly as it did all those years ago, where thumbs at your anklet— another prized possession he’d gotten you. your face heats in embarrassment, and he flicks his eyes to glance at you, a fleeting smirk on his lips, before staring back at the jewelry, “going after my ex girlfriend is not something i expected. i don’t know him at all.”

fair enough, you think to yourself. there has to be some lingering resentment towards you for the same reason. had the tables been turned and he’d gone after one of your closest friends, you would’ve cut him off from your life completely. you were being truthful— it wasn’t anything remotely serious with sukuna, not even close to how it’d been with gojo, but you could see it as a matter of principle. you’d already taken the initiative to break up with him first, and going after his homeboy?

god, you had questionable morals.

“it’s different with you,” he feeds in, as if he could read your thoughts. it was probably written all over your face, the scrunch in your brows never letting up. his index finger slides beneath the band of your anklet, the contrast of the silver shade lining perfectly against his complexion, “‘s hard to explain, but you broke up with me so you technically owe me no loyalty— besides, i get why you ended things. never blamed you.”

now that peaks your interest. he gets why you ended things with him? he never blamed you? you clear your throat, forcing the question out, “you do?”

“of course,” he shrugs naturally, as if it hadn’t taken you eons to conclude. as if it hadn’t broke you apart when you’d realized how unneeded you were, “i honestly expected it. you deserved better than what i was giving. you must’ve been lonely— work had always taken a big part of my time, and that left you behind in the dust.”

you’re waiting for the punchline. he continues, “i can’t lie to you— i was wishing you’d resort to cheating over breaking up. that way you’d still be mine, even if it was temporarily,” he chuckles, a soft shade of pink dusting over his cheekbones, as he sniffs, “corny, i know. but you didn’t deserve putting up with my bullshit, so you left. time is of the essence, and that was the one thing i never seemed to give you. you fell out of it— out of love, so. . . i’m sorry.”

words cannot seem to leave you. you’re left utterly speechless— that had been so far from the reason, the realization sitting bitterly at the pit of your stomach. anything, literally anything, would’ve been better than hearing him lie to you again.

“that. . .” you inhale a sharp breath, steadying yourself, “is nowhere near the reason why we broke up.”

he stops in his caress. you think he got whiplash from how fast his neck snaps, eyeing you incredulously. he genuinely seems so confused, and you hate it. to think he’d show up with some lame ass excuse, so far stretched from the truth of the matter, and expected you to believe that. to believe him.

he blinks slowly, “i don’t understand.”

you try to pull your leg away from his lap, feeling like he was stripping you bare of the last bit of dignity you had left, wanting to rip you open. he presses the weight of his hand lightly, urging you to stay near while simultaneously giving you the option to pull away. the ball was in your court yet again.

“wait— help me understand,” the pad of his thumb rolls over your ankle bone gently— far too intimately. your feet curl away, protectively, and his fingers stroke at the ball of your heel, “please. what drove you away? what was it i did?”

there’s a pang in your chest. does he really plan on keeping this up? right in your face? it was one thing wishing him well despite the obvious, but dragging it out even a year later was a bit much. inviting him over was starting to seem like a terrible idea.

“i fell out of love?” you parrot, unbelieving. “gojo— i’m not the one who fell out of anything. i gave you a way out, and you happily took it,” his face contorts into a deeper state of confusion. you huff, “i’m not blaming you for it or anything, but shit, don’t get up in here with lies to cover your ass.”

“lies?” he whispers, to himself, running his free fingers through tousled white locks. he stares at your anklet hardly, like the gift has all the answers he’s looking for. you don’t think he’s avoiding eye contact, but he seems so distraught, so out of the loop, that broadway ought to sign him to a new movie deal. what an actor.

“time is of the essence and you failed to give it?” you continue regardless, throat restricting as it burns in an emotion you’re far too familiar with. suddenly, you feel like you’re twenty five again, left to your own devices and thoughts in the emptiness of his apartment, dressed in your prettiest outfit and another failed date night. “i never gave a shit about that, i knew how much of a hardworking man you were. i took it to the chest— anything to keep you from leaving. you stopped loving me, gojo.”

his jaw falls slack, mouth gaping and you blink your lashes furiously to prevent tears from appearing. god, this was so humiliating, bearing your heart raw in front of your ex boyfriend, “y/n, i never—”

“spare me,” you scoff, mortified by the rush of emotions coursing through you. you take a deep breath in, calming yourself to avoid further explosive feelings, “this isn’t me saying i was the perfect girlfriend. i know i wasn’t— you know i wasn’t, and piling a spiralling partner on top of all the shit you were dealing with wasn’t an option. that’s fine,” it was fine. it didn’t matter, “doesn’t matter anymore. i broke up with you, you didn’t fight to stay, and we both moved on. shit happens.”

it hurt a lot. the sound of the door clicking shut, followed by the crack splitting in your chest. the run towards your bathroom, emptying your contents from both your stomach and heart. you were undeniably a mess, that period of time it took for you to recover. you would never voice it out loud, but you’d been praying he’d tell you just how wrong you were. how he needed you in his life. how you weren’t a burden to him. how he loved you enough to fight through it all.

he hadn’t.

there’s a soft hum in the silence. the sound of your clock ticking near the entrance door. the pounding of your heart against your rib cage. seconds turn into minutes of quietness, and it does no good to your mind. you’re focusing your gaze on the inanimate objects in your apartment, anything to dismiss the reality of the situation. your leg feels cold as his hand pulls away suddenly.

he rolls his tongue against his cheek. another tic of his— he’s formulating his word choice, carefully. you’d seen a ton of this before, though it usually followed a deep sigh and a you’re good baby, trust me. the more you’d see it, the more anxious you became. and christ, if that anxiety wasn’t forming right back.

it takes a while for him to speak, and every passing breath had your chest tightening. he runs his hand across his face, tiredly. when he pulls it away, there’s a melancholic smile on his face, “i think there’s a lot that needs to be addressed. jesus, i always knew you sucked at communicating but this is something else.”

you glare at him. he doesn’t mind it, continuing, “no, you weren’t the perfect girlfriend. but you were my girlfriend, and that’s all that mattered to me. you wanna talk about spiralling? nothing i’m not familiar with— you’re the only reason i didn’t let myself fall into that rabbit hole. you kept me going after graduation. i worked as hard as i did to make sure you wouldn’t have to lift a finger around me. that was the end goal— you were end goal.”

gagged is what you felt. nothing else pure shock. he doesn’t stop there. he isn’t merciful anymore.

“i know i didn’t go about it the right way,” a regretful puff of air is released, “i canceled on you often. our phone calls were shorter, our texts were vaguer and at some point i’d forgotten what you tasted like. but i never loved you any less. not once, even after we argued. not to say i’ve converted into those spiritual people, but you’re the closest thing to a soulmate i’ve experienced.”

shit, you weren’t tripping. he felt it too. fuck. the weight of his words made it impossible to steer him away. you want to intercept, to call him a liar and turn a blind ear at his confession, to shield yourself but how could you when every word he spoke broke the bricks you’d built down?

“i’m not an asshole— i could feel you slipping away. i did try my damned hardest to reel you back in, as you’d done with me. clearly that hadn’t worked how i was hoping it would,” a bitter laugh, or maybe a resentful one. towards you or himself? you wouldn’t know, “it’s because i loved you so much, i let you go. i knew i was losing you, and when you finally came to me, the right thing to do was agree. why keep you from reaching your fullest potential? you weren’t happy with me, trying to fight the inevitable was cruel.”

the inevitable. letting you go was the right choice to make because fighting the inevitable was cruel. he loved you so much he had to let you go because you deserved more than what he had to offer. you call bullshit— in what right did he have to make that choice for you? what right did you have to make that choice for him?

it’s too much at once. your eyes burn with a remorseful feeling, your heart aches in agony and your mind is clouded with thoughts. there your ex boyfriend sat, wide eyes still as blue as when he’d once been yours, presenting you his heart raw in cupped hands— and you still couldn’t find it in you to believe him fully. everything yet nothing made sense. vulnerability was a scary thing, and you weren’t ready to face it.

so, you kiss him.

his breath is taken out of his chest as you lean forward, sealing his mouth shut. you can’t take any more of his merciless words, and the only way to get your mind off it is by getting on it. he feels stiff against you, pupils dilating as you mould lips with his own. your hand travels to the back of his neck, sitting on your knees as you hold him still.

and with a faint lip smack, he pulls away ever so slightly, hands hovering awkwardly over your waist, his breath warm and fanning your cupid’s bow, “wait—”

“don’t wanna talk,” you interrupt, placing another chaste kiss on his lips. he tastes as good as the day you left him. and with another soft smack, your voice lowers, reduced to a whisper, “you gonna fuck me or not?”

he blinks and you stare back at him, full of conviction. a simple yes or no question— and he could gladly see himself out if his answer didn’t satisfy you. his hands finally rest on your waist, and you take it as an invitation to straddle over his hips. he eases your movements by aiding, lifting you just barely to sit on him. his hands fit just as they did all those times ago. a sour, bittersweet feeling— fingertips caressing the nakedness of your torso beneath your camisole.

your back arches as he finds your sensitive spots with quickness. he’d always been great at that, leaving trails of goosebumps past his teasing touches.

“you’re doing it again,” he mumbles against your lips, ever the hypocrite, fingers gripping at your waist like a vice. he rolls your hips over his own, reeling in the softness of your palms cupping at his face. you ignore him when he continues, still nibbling on his bottom lip the way he loves, “you can’t— mmh, avoid this forever.”

maybe not, but you sure as hell could right now. the tip of your noses bump into one another as you tilt your head, deepening the kiss. you want to rid your mind of these plaguing thoughts, ones that made you doubt everything you thought you knew. losing control was out of the question, so naturally you needed it back into your grasp.

sex was an easy way to do that.

“yes or no, gojo.” you give him one last chance, grinding your hips down on his awakening dick. you feel his bulge through his pair of sweats, the print so evident you wondered why he was trying to fight it. the sight alone had your panties dampening in your arousal, uncomfortably sticky against your loungewear.

he hums in between kisses, a false pretend of debating his options. his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your shorts and past your panties, fondling at the flesh that sat beneath. he could fake it all he wants, but fuck chivalry— he was turning to mush the more you sucked at his tongue, licking at the crevice of the roof of his mouth.

it’s when you sink your teeth into the flesh of pink lips, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to draw a moan from him, he comes to a conclusion. he nods his head, snaking his arms to wrap at your waist tighter as finally kisses you back.

“it’s always a yes.” for you. he doesn’t say it, doesn’t need to, but you hear it and dismiss it. no more lovey doveyness and time to get to the nitty gritty of shit— getting your back blown out. the very thought alone is enough to put a smile on your lips.

bingo.

your bedroom door hardly shuts before he pins you against it. he’s annoyingly big— tall in height and wide in weight. he towers over you comically, hands roaming at every inch of your body as he drinks you up. his lips seek yours desperately, sliding over your glossy ones with practice that suggests hints of comfort.

your arms loop at his neck, and his at your waist. his mouth hardly lets up of yours, mumbling a little jump, as you comply with ease. thighs trapping him in your hold, you then find yourself face to face with him as he lifts you, large palms cupping at your ass. you fit just as perfectly in his hands as you did years ago, flesh so fat he gropes it tenderly.

the walk from the door to your bed passes in the blink of an eye, a timeframe you find pointless to recall as you indulge in the taste of him through his tongue. his presence is so overwhelmingly powerful— every touch and caress at your body reducing your limbs to mush. you cling to him, either out of safety reasons or desire, tilting your head from side to side to deepen the lip-to-lip action.

when he gets to the edge of your bed, he lowers you until your toes reach the floor. due to the difference in height, your lips part, a thin string of saliva connecting from both your mouths as proof of your unison. the blue shade of his orbs darken with desire, eyelids lowering as he drinks up the sight of you— lips plump and swollen, slick in saliva, chest heaving from lack of oxygen.

he raises a hand from your waist to cup at your face, and you detest the way your lean into his touch. your cheek fits in his large palm, and he swipes a thumb at your bottom lip, collecting your shared spit onto the pad of his digit. as he smears the fluid further across your mouth, he prods his thumb a little further— testing out the waters, wanting to see if you’d cave into old habits.

naturally, you allow it, his thumb swallowed by your puckered lips. you roll your tongue over his finger and your eyes never leave his— hoping to convey the rush of emotions you feel through your sultry gaze. your core throbs in want, your stomach erupting in butterflies and your heart pounding unnecessarily. unspoken words you’re positive he understood, if the way he groans when your teeth sink lightly into his digit said anything.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles, popping his finger back out. it’s coated in saliva, and like the freak he is, pops it into his own mouth. once he’s had his fill, he removes his hand from his mouth, and lowers it to your fleshy waist, slipping past the waistband of your panties, “take these off— ‘m hungry, need a taste of that pussy.”

your cheeks nearly split from your excitement, and you comply to his order, gripping at the hem of your shorts to pull them down to your ankle. he assists you despite the previous demand, his own hands atop of yours, a warmth and sense of security so familiar. when your shorts reach past your mid thigh, you allow him to meet you halfway.

he pulls your shorts down to your ankles, lowering himself to a knee. his movements are agonizingly slow, basking in the sight of your thighs in contrast of the shade of your loungewear. he steadies a hand onto your calf, patting it lightly, and you lift your leg just barely, permitting him to slide the shorts off your ankle and tossing it aside.

when the item is discarded, he redirects his focus back to you. he pampers your skin in kisses— delicate but hungry, trails of moisture crawling back up at your inner thighs and shooting right to your core. he looked unexplainably sexy on his knees, littering your body in hushed praises, the tip of his nose nudging at your soft skin. you bit your lip in attempts to cease it from wobbling at the intimacy he was providing.

“god, you smell so good,” he speaks into you, hands snaking to the back of your thighs, pressing you forward into him. your panty covered cunt presents itself right before him, and he plants his nose right into your intimates, your body shuddering as his nose bumps into your clit deliciously. a shaky breath escapes you, and his hands travel upwards to play with your ass. “turn around, wanna eat it from the back.”

the words are taken from you when his hand slaps your ass encouragingly, releasing a mini squeal, “you’re still too freaked out.”

“mhm, something like that,” you don’t see it, as you’re occupied on spinning on your feet to plant your hands on your matters for stability, but you’re positive he’s smirking. your arch your back for him, wanting to properly present the meal he plans on devouring. your cunt oozes slick against your thong just thinking about how he’s going to do you in, “there’s that arch,” a hand slides in the curve of your lower back, before snapping the band of your thong. it recoils against your cheek and you jerk forward at the sting.

“oh? did that hurt?” he taunts, and as you’re about to protest, he does it yet again. the snap is intense but never painful, but the nerve he had to play around like your pussy wasn’t a few centimetres away from his face. you don’t acknowledge how your panties cling even tighter to your folds.

“fuck off,” you curse through gritted teeth, but your hips wiggle backwards in attempt to get him to hurry it up. as if now was any time to tease— you couldn’t stand it when he did it all those years ago, and your feelings haven’t changed since, “get on with it. . . the fuck?”

you hear him sigh, almost disappointedly, and it only aggravates you further. your brows furrow in annoyance and you think you feel a vein tick at your temple.

“still so disrespectful,” gojo tuts, rubbing at your booty tenderly. so he wasn’t exactly wrong, but how was he expecting you to react when he’d just said he was going to eat you out, and proceeds to do anything but that? of course there’s going to be a little pout on your lips, “we gotta work on that attitude of yours.”

your face twists into a look of further aggravation, and you tilt your head back, readying whatever other bratty objections you had— though you’re ultimately interrupted by a sharp sting that spreads across your ass.

the strike of his palm against your cheek sprawls into an intense heat, the pain oddly pleasurable, and the moan that rips out of your chest is impossible to suppress. your eyes nearly jump out of their sockets at the audacity, and right as you’re about to complain, he does it again. and again.

“o-okay, shit!” you attempt to voice out, but he’s relentless, delivering blow after blow onto the same ground. there’s a curve in his palm, and it amplified the sound across the room. despite your protests, you can’t deny every jolt of pain rushes to your clit. you’re positive he knows you’re enjoying this, “gojo— fuck, okayyy!”

to your pleasure, he eases the slaps, opting to smoothen his hand flat across the reddened flesh. he hums pensively, the heat of your skin radiating against his palm in a way that forces a smile on his lips, “ ‘okay?’ what do you mean by that, baby?”

you clench your teeth at his faux ignorance. you know exactly what he wants from you, and you’re not sure if you’re able to give it to him as you are. an apology— he wants you to apologize, that bastard. your left cheek stings like a bitch, even with his now gentle touches, and your core is begging you to cooperate with him, in order for that attention it was neglected of. he is such a dickhead— putting you in a predicament like this one.

you swallow the last bit of dignity you hold, a constant reminder in the back of your mind that this was for the greater good— for the sake of your pussy. with a pained sigh, you tilt your head backwards to meet his playful gaze that stares back at you, right below the plump of your ass, and you muster the cutest look you can give.

doe eyes paired with a little pout, “‘m sorry. . . for the attitude,” you’re not sorry at all, but you desperately want your cunt in his mouth, so you do what you have to do, “can you eat it now? please?”

he flashes you a million dollar smile, all thirty twos on full display, and it takes every ounce of willpower in you not to roll your eyes right then and there. he was so full of shit, his eyes might as well brown. but still, you knew he got off on this kind of thing, and when he presses a quick kiss at the print of your lips, he replies, “of course, sweet girl— only because you asked so nicely.”

there’s no further need to speak, as you feel your thong being pushed to the side, followed by a cold breeze hitting your bare cunt, meshed with warm breathe as he feasts .

gojo eats you out like he has something to prove, and you know what— maybe he does. to prevent you from straying from him, he grounds you with two firm hands gripping at your ass. he spreads the flesh apart, his tongue lapping at your slick greedily. you can’t tell who’s moans are louder— yours or his, the man so engaged in sucking at your clit, nibbling on the bundle of nerves with practiced ease. you hold onto the sheets on your bed with dear life, thighs trembling as you struggle to hold yourself up.

“fuck, don’t stop,” you whine, pushing your hips further back, your mind overcame with utter greediness for more of that insatiable pleasure. you might as well have swallowed him whole into you, just as he’s swallowing you whole into him, his tongue diving deep past your hole and into your folds. he flicks his tongue expertly, licking at every crevice and nook of your cave, his jaw working overtime as his bottom lip never lets up at your clit.

your entire pussy is consumed by him, no area going neglected— drool slips past his mouth and spills onto your floor. a familiar heat licks at the pit of your stomach, a telltale that your dam is bound to burst anytime soon. he remedies your ache with another painful spank at your ass, groaning into your pussy when you clamp down on his tongue.

he was so fucking nasty— fucking into you with his tongue like he needed this more than you did. he makes out with your cunt, like he was a starving man on death row. at a particular cruel angle of his tongue fucking, your body would react with an all consuming tremble, fingers clawing at your duvets, your lungs releasing pathetic mewls. and the further you pushed back into his merciless mouth, the closer his nose nudged at your puckered forbidden hole.

he pulls away with a gasp, subbing his mouth out for his fingers, the pads of three fingers rubbing messily at your sloppy lips. the sound it creates is downright filthy, so painfully loud that it damn near drowns out your own moans.

“pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he spits a wad of saliva at your already soaked cunt, further amplifying the squelching sounds. he drags his fingers down to your clit, pinching at the bud with enough pressure to have your knees buckling, before sliding back upwards to your clenching hole. he slides into your entrance, index and middle fingers twisting in with ease, “bet she missed me, hm?”

“y-yes!” you nod mindlessly, your high creeping up on you as he works himself into you. taking six inches of fingers twice was a task in itself— the average length of a man’s dick serving purpose as fingering was just downright disrespectful. his knuckles poke at your silky walls, stretching you out to the best of his abilities, “shit— oh fuck, ‘m gonna cum!”

to your statement, he latches his lips back to your neglected clit, sucking on the bud as if he were intentionally trying to milk you dry. he hums at your taste, the vibrations shooting right up your alley and into the knot tightening in your guts— and when he curls his fingers upwards, at that spot that has stars dancing beneath your eyelids, the dam breaks. that knot stood no chance.

“oh goddd,” you cry out, spraying your release all over. it dribbles out your pussy and past the lower half of his face, to which his jaw widens as his mouth gapes— greedily aiming to slurp at your juices while simultaneously flicking your bean. the stimulation has your brain going dumb, as you fall flat onto your bed, drool collecting at the corner of your mouth and staining your sheets damp.

he lets you ride out the euphoric bliss, the movements of his fingers and the lapping of his tongue slowing down the more your body reacted to the overstimulation. when he deems you well spent, he lets up, slipping his fingers out and popping them back in his mouth, swirling your taste across his pallets, “as sweet as ever,” rising back to his full height.

you haven’t came that hard in a while, limbs reduced to nothing as you merge into one with your bed. your legs are still trembling, and your chest heaves as you exhale deep breaths. letting your eyelids close shut, you take the time to regroup yourself from that mind shattering orgasm. who the fuck had he been fucking that forced him to keep this skill? granted, you had no right to complain but holy shit, he was no fucking noob.

you feel the weight of his body press on top of you, a well-built chest meeting your moist back. it doesn’t take much to realize he’s hovering over you. his lips litter kisses at the column of your neck, moving up to the shell of your ear, leaving a trail of goosebumps after each embrace, “you tappin’ out already?” gojo snickers at your shell of a body, and you kiss your teeth at his typical mockery, “what happened to my champ while i was gone?”

“fuck off,” you pout, a little embarrassed by the fact that you really were retired from the game. sure, you were getting dicked down real good by your previous partner (question mark), but it never had you as exhausted as you currently were. there was absolutely nothing gojo satoru couldn’t do, and that ticked you off to no end, “nobody said shit about tappin’ out.”

“hm. . .” he hums, nuzzling his nose into your jugular, his hips grinding into the cleft of your ass. it’s impossible to ignore the bulge poking into you, and you doubt he was trying to hide it regardless, his hips rolling against the plushness of your behind, “guess sukuna didn’t do as good of job as he should’ve.”

that has your eyelids opening right back up. talk about an awkward situation— bringing up you and your ex’s (question mark) sex life while having sex with your other ex was a double edged predicament in itself. had you agreed, which lowkey wasn’t entirely wrong, you’d be stroking the fuck out of gojo’s ego and be disrespecting sukuna. but had you disagreed, you could end up on gojo’s wrong side and fumble an entire night worth of dicking.

so, once more, you take the easy way out, at the expense of inflating the white haired man’s ego, much to your dismay, “think you can do better?”

he stays silent for a while. in what you assume is him coming up with an answer to your question, his kisses travel to the dead centre of your shoulder blades, wet and open mouthed, as they crawl lower down your spine. with every kiss, your body caves into a state of relaxation, as if he was undoing every stress clouding at your hazed mind with his mouth alone.

he lands at the middle of your back, before he pulls away abruptly. and just as soon as he started, he was finished— removing himself off your body entirely. panic settles quickly in your stomach, as you turn your head around to see what he was up to. had you unintentionally hurt his feelings? damn, and here you were enjoying the body worship.

“what are you—” your words are cut off as his hands cup at your waist. he slides you back towards the edge of the bed, your feet planted on the floor once more. you feel some residue of your previous orgasm beneath your heels, eugh. you don’t have much time to spend thinking about how gross it feels when a hand holds your shoulders, and lifts you right back up.

your brows jump to your hairline in surprise at the sudden manhandling, though you can’t deny you found just a bit sexy. with his chest pressed into your back once more, you can feel his heartbeat thudding at the blade of your left shoulder, the organ withholding a steady rhythm— the tempo of a lullaby you’d once been accustomed to. and then big arms wrap around your frame, and holds you.

you hate the way your body folds so easily to his touch. it’s been an entire year, and despite your mind shouting at you for the intimacy you’re allowing to gallop right back into your life, your heart craves it. the sense of security his embrace offers you alone makes the least of sense, but you blindly lean into him, allowing yourself to be deluded for the time being. he won’t be yours as soon as this is over, so you might as well take the most advantage of the situation.

it takes a minute for either of you to speak. here you stood— half naked and legs sore, but still happily in his arms. his cologne is still as rich and dominating as it’d been all those times ago. he breaks the silence first, his chin resting above your shoulder, as he mumbles, “you really hurt my feelings, you know.”

to some degree, you know you did. about what exactly? you weren’t sure, but still, you offer him what you believe he wants, the realization leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, “i’m sorry.”

“‘s all good,” he kisses your cheek so tenderly that your neck cranes to the side to meet his gaze. gojo had always been so readable when it came to emotions, as he always wore his heart on his sleeve, but even with all the knowledge you knew about, you weren’t prepared for the look in his eyes. raw, unfiltered emotions. you only notice the close proximity between you both when your noses bump into one another. he shoots you a warm smile, “could never be upset with you. you hold that power over me.”

it’s you who kisses him first, and he returns the favour with more intensity. it’s an awkward positioning for your neck, but you don’t let up regardless of the ache in your joints. his mouth stays on yours as if you were his lifeline, tongues sloshing one over the other, brushing your lips together so gingerly.

in the midst of his tongue down your throat, he slips a hand in between your thighs, cupping at your abandoned pussy. the casual brush of his fingers at your core sent a breathy whine from your throat right into his mouth, and it only motivated him to work harder, rubbing slow patterns into your throbbing clit. your hips chase the feeling, riding the wave of his fingers.

he pulls away from your mouth, just barely, mumbling against your kiss bitten lips, “one of these days you’re gonna let me finish speaking,” followed by a knowing smile. sure, it could be seen as a flaw, but it was the only way you could protect yourself while keeping him within arm’s reach. never ready to have him but never prepared to let him go, “we can do that later— gotta blow your back out first.”

you couldn’t agree more.

it all happens so quickly— he retrieves his hand from between your thighs, having collected your juices at his fingertips, before lubricating his dick. he pumps at the length leisurely, his bottom lip tugged by his top row of teeth, and the groans he lets out are enough to have you squeezing your thighs eagerly, your cunt aching and ready to go. in the midst of your eagerness, you slip your hand behind you and catch his twitching cock, working your wrist right above his own, jerking him off.

a deep groan grumbles from his chest, and he instantly stops your hand from moving any further. you frown at his ceasing, but when you tilt your head to voice out your confusion, he offers a sheepish smile, “don’t wanna cum too soon,” ever the minute man, he was.

though, you soon find yourself regretting your own thoughts the very instant you feel the tip of his dick pushing past your entrance.

there’s a blended harmony of both your moans that bounces off the walls. his fingers dig deep into the flesh of your hips, holding onto you so tightly you’re positive you’ll bruise, and you clamp down on his intruding dick so tightly you’re positive you never want to let him go. the initial stretch is a feeling you’ll never get used to, but the sensation is all but unwanted.

“fuckkk, y/n,” he moans right into your ear, his voice so full of want, you can’t help but understand exactly where he’s coming from. he pulls his hips back, almost entirely, though his tip stays inside. it takes him a second to regroup, mumbling incoherent words under his breath, before he plunges back into your cunt.

and from that point on, it’s wraps. he fucks into you like a madman— as if he’d been punishing you for your crimes. punishing you for sleeping with another man. punishing you for leaving him a year and a half ago. punishing you for punishing him. his pace is ruthless— hips meeting your ass as fast as he’d pull out, pounding into your little hole to mould it into the shape of him.

he’s thick, this time on perverted shit.

you’re so painfully full of him, and despite your arms stretched outwards to grip at the sheets that had suffered more than enough of your abuse on them, your walls never let go of him. you don’t want him to pull out ever, utterly obsessed with the rough pace he set from the jump. it feels impossible keeping the curve of your back when the tip of his length repetitively attacks at your golden spots.

“ohmygoddd,” you words come out slurry, head lolling forward uselessly. if he kept fucking you like this, you weren’t going to let him leave again. stuck in an endless loop of bliss, with every thrust into your folds, his balls would slap at your clit and drive you insane, “y’re d-doing me s’gooddd,”

“yeah?” he eggs on, his voice as breathless as you’d been, though his pacing would never suggest so. there’s a hypnotic recoil of your ass bouncing back onto his pelvis that indulges him into disrupting it, delivering a new spank at your cheeks. you cry out at the feeling, and he strikes again, hips never letting up, “tell me more baby.”

you rise at your tip toes when you feel yourself sinking, legs giving out yet again. you hold yourself up at your elbows, a newfound confidence pushing your hips back to match his pace. when he heaves out a loud moan, you’re encouraged to keep going. the melody of your skins slapping against each other echoes into the stillness of the night, arching your back the further he plunges into your guts. you’re so turned on, the evidence creaming around the perimeter of his cock, easing the slides of his dick inside of you.

“toruuu,” you whine, too fucked out to notice your first mistake— calling him by his favorite nickname. at that given moment, you couldn’t care any less, the intense heat in your guts growing once more. the curve of his dick reaches spots you don’t think anybody could reach, almost as if he was made entirely for you, “you’re so big— can feel you, nghhh, everywhere!”

“that’s cause i am everywhere,” you think you can hear him smirking behind you. though, he has every right to feel entitled, with how much of a mess he’s reduced you to. he rolls his hips deep, a firm bulge forming into your tummy. as if he’s got a sixth sense or eye, he leans forward to rest his chest against your back— your eyes rolling back from the new angle. he slides a hand beneath your stomach and presses at the bulge hard. you can’t help the squeal you let out, “that’s me right there.”

you nod your head feverishly, the applied pressure on your stomach pushing his cock right at your cervix. oh god, he was going to kill you. what a wonderful way to go— all judgements clouded in favour of an eight inched dick penetrating your walls, “‘s all yours— mmh, always been.”

and that’d been your final mistake.

because the chuckle he lets out right into your ear is dark. the sounds shoot right up to your spine, shivers crawling up your back deliciously. he might as well be back stabbing you with how his cock plunged so sloppily out of your gaping cunt, “you always knew how to, fuck, pillowtalk,” he pants into your neck, his additional weight onto your shaking frame nothing short on welcoming. the hand pressing into your stomach lowers to your clit, and pinches meanly at the bud, “you know i’d, mmh, give you the world if you asked— my smart girl, shit.”

he’s so cruel, talking to you so lovingly despite it all. you tighten your eyes, in poor attempts to ignore the tenderness of the words fleeting his lips and focus instead on the stretch of your cunt down his dick. you feel yourself creaming on him, further proof of both your unison through his diabolical thrusts. he pinned you into place like this— unable to do anything but take what he gave you gratefully.

at a particular stroke at your abused golden spot, your body releases another tremor of shudders. it overtakes you from head to toe, a moan so ripe escaping your lips as you claw at ruined sheets. gojo works into aiming at that spot over and over again, each thrust more intense than the previous one. the change of his pace, slowing for a minute, draws you near the end of the line quicker than you’d anticipated.

“oh?” he grunts playfully, swaying his hips back and forth into your poor pussy. mercy is nowhere to be found, however, “you like it when i fuck you like this?” another agonizingly beautiful thrust at the same place, you can’t help but reward him with a cry. he’s fucking you into the damn mattress, and he has the balls to ask this question knowing the answer. still, you nod your head mutely, tears collecting at your lash line, and he nips at the skin on your jaw, “yeahhh you do.”

god, you do.

and suddenly, you can’t bring yourself to remember why you’d ever let go of dick this good. the kind that would have you taking the rubber off and considering finishing inside. the kind that had you babbling apologies for having done absolutely nothing wrong. the kind that made you begin to believe his careless whispers, empty promises to work things out.

in the midst of your delusions, he pulls you both back up from the bed, standing once again. at this new position, he reaches impossibly further into you, the difference in your heights making up for the inches he’s dug into you. his fingers dig in the column of your throat, the weight of his hand wrapped tightly at your neck. he’s everywhere at once, but simultaneously no where to be found. while you can feel his tip prodding at your most sensitive spot, you don’t feel the overwhelming force of love he once bore with open arms for you.

or was it you were feigning you don’t? because as he works himself back into you, at a pace so tender yet cruel, the line of boundaries you’d once set has been entirely deterred. a force so overwhelming, just like his entire being, bringing you right back to him as if you’d never left— nevermind the fact your thighs could barely support themselves, quaking pathetically. it was getting too much— everything was a lot.

“nahhh. . . don’t start running now.” you didn’t realize you were. the sheets are crumpled in your tight hold, while your other hand lightly pushes at his lower abdomen. you were a trooper, but there was only so much pleasurable torture you could handle. naturally, he pins your wrist at your spine to maintain his ruthless pace, and with another gentle yet cruelly empty promise, he coos, “not when i’ve just gotten you back.”

how the fuck did you get yourself in this mess?

oh right. . . tinder. you had a bone to pick with the ceo of that app right after you come back to your senses.

“i— i can’t,” you fumble at your words, the lack of oxygen catching up to you. you’re bound to his mercy— hands tied, breath nearly restricted, pussy obliterated, and yet, there’s nowhere else you’d want to be. the pressure on your throat lolls your head backwards, chin facing the ceiling as your eyes fall onto snowy lashes, “gonna cum again— oh fuckfuckfuck,”

and despite his brutality, he shoots you a sweet smile, the contrast in his words versus his actions grand, “right behind you, baby.”

you cum, and hard . much harder than you had before. you gush your fluids down his piercing cock, your folds squeezing him tight as you release. you think your mind blanks for a minute, an orgasm so powerful, you fear your eyes would stay stuck at the back of your skull. you shiver in his embrace, the insatiable desire racking your body from top to bottom.

when he pulls out, you fall flat yet again onto your stomach, face first. you assume you look like a puddle of nothingness, your limbs spent from the overexhaustion. but still, you find yourself in a similar position to prior, as gojo leans over your body, a hand holding him up as the other works on his jerking him cum out. smart move, not finishing inside, though a weird feeling of disappointment sits in your stomach, swapping the fiery heat from your orgasm.

he sinks his teeth into your shoulders as you wince, emptying himself right onto your lower back. it runs hot and smooth into the dimples of your back, that you can’t help but stretch your limp arm towards the mess to collect the residue on your fingers. you pop them into your mouth, his taste still so familiar as he plops right at your side, face up.

there’s a thick silence that fills the sex scented room. you wonder what is going through his brain now that the lust demon that was half his ego had been taken care of. was he on the same page as you were? had he realized just how messy this could turn out? he’s too quiet for a man of his nature— and that terrified you shitless. no matter the outcome, you’re ready to kick him out. post nut clarity was a scary thing— it revealed the violent truth of how tempting the flesh could be, even with consequences on the line.

you want to beat him to it. the last thing you need on your consciousness is your ex boyfriend who’d you invited into your home a year after you broke up with him, leaving you. he seemed petty enough to do the eye for an eye shtick— it wasn’t too out of character for him.

with a heavy heart and sigh, you turn your head to the side where he lays comfortably. the words want to die in your throat, but your urge them out, the sooner the better, “you should—”

“no.” he interrupts, followed by a yawn.

you frown at that, brows scrunching as you insist that yet again, “you need to—”

“nah.” gojo cuts you off yet again, rolling onto his side. his dick falls limp onto your bed, and you don’t think about the mess it’s making. to be fair, you’d done far worse. and it was proven difficult to care about that mess when he brought a finger to play with your loose hairs, cerulean eyes zeroing in on them, “i’m tired. let’s get you cleaned up and go to bed.”

“you’re not listening to me.” you click your tongue, a little desperate to have him hear you. you’re scared to keep him around longer, because you know you’ll grow attached again and that already ended terribly once, and took you forever and a half to get over. he has to leave and right now, “you have to go.”

gojo hums at that. he stops the twirling of your hair, rather reluctantly, and finally meets your sharp gaze. he still looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, “why?”

you narrow your eyes, “you know why,” you shouldn’t have to explain why two exes cozying up after indulging into each other was a bad idea. common sense, you figured, but was it common sense to have him over in the first place? a flurry of various emotions coursing over you laced with exhaustion had you overthinking like a motherfucker, “this was a bad idea.”

he trails his finger along the slope of your clenched jaw, and you don’t think about the fact it immediately relaxed at his touch. the longer he traced your skin, the longer he kept looking at you like that, you were wavering in your own logic. you’d both gotten what you wanted in the first place, so why was it he was still here? the rational decision would be to pretend this never happened and part ways again, but why was the thought of him locking the door behind him once again at your expense making you feel sick to your stomach?

when his finger lands at your pouty lips, he taps his index finger twice against the flesh. naturally, your pout deepens. his eyes flick from your mouth to your shying gaze, and his index swaps for his thumb. he runs the pad of his finger across the reddened surface, and his voice falls a few octaves lower, hushed for nobody else but you to hear, “you don’t want me to leave.”

you don’t.

he takes your silence as acceptance, and plants a soft kiss to your lips. it’s enough to rid your mind of its plaguing doubts in the meanwhile. and when his hand slides to cup at the back of your neck, ultimately deepening it, you can’t find it in you to care about the consequences for the time being. not when he was swallowing you whole like he was the one terrified to feel you slip from his fingers. you melt into him far too easily.

well. . . that was something you’d deal with in the morning.

tinder: 1, you: 0.

now can y’all stop calling me a deadbeat 🙎‍♂️