SIMP

“celius?”

you blinked confused, trying to blink away the red that has blurred your vision.

but you knew better, the sticky warm substance that flowed down your face and stuck to your clothes at this moment.

“what on earth—“

a boy you didn’t recognise stood in front beside your fiance, his sword pointed against you. you struggled to get up but to no avail, you couldn’t feel your legs but you could feel the warm puddle of blood against the cold tiles floor of the throne room.

“that’s enough, you despicable tyrant.”

tyrant..? you didn’t understand, what king was he talking about when you were still uncrowned. the ceremony was still a month away. the most shocking thing was not the boy next to him but perhaps it was that your future queen was standing across you and not next to you where he should rightfully been.

you could never have expected that the grand duke would one day stare you down with those eyes. the same ones that he gave to his enemies beyond the north. the warm eyes that used to ooze with honey when they look at you would one day remind you of the unforgiving winters in the north.

“today will be the day, your madness will be put into an end and the rightful heir would be put back into place.”

the more your duke went on the more you didn’t understand. you understood every word, but when strung together like that and for some reason it was like your brain couldn’t recognize them.

both he and you knew that this was once everything to you. you were raised for the throne, everything that you lived for up until your fathers death was solely to reign the kingdom. out of anyone in this country, he of all people should know best. he was the one who released you from those shackles.

which made everything happening in front of you so absurd. why was the person who cut you free from your puppet strings now turned his blade towards you.

“celius, what’s wrong?” there was something wrong, very wrong. “why are you— of all people, why are you-“

“wrong? everything is wrong.” you didn’t know that those grey cold irises could turn even icier. “you made everything wrong in this kingdom with you vile disgusting reign. do you have any idea how many people suffered and how many lives were lost.”

what was it, there was that saying that goes on about how you don’t know you only treasure things once you lose it. maybe this was one of those times. “

the sweet times when he would snuggle with you in bed and you would leave him to get ready for the day. the way he would whine and try to get you to sleep in for five more minutes before getting ready with you.

those sweet moments you don’t know if you could ever go back to. maybe if you knew back then that things would end up like this you would indulge in those five minutes more. maybe you didn’t treasure those small moments of sweetness in-between the busy palace days.

“brother.” the boy behind the duke finally speaks up, “tell me, does it ever keep you awake at night?”

does the unjustified screams of the deceased ever haunt you in your dreams?” you finally diverted your attention to the man– no, boy standing behind celius finally spoke to you. you were sure that this boy was not born in nobility, no matter how noble his words sound. he clearly did not have the poise in his posture beaten into him from a young age. yet, a fake like him has the audacity to stand behind your fiance to question your life’s meaning in front of you.

“it doesn’t,” you replied, a boy too young and untrained for the crown would not have not shaken your will if it wasn’t for celius pointing his sword against you,

“i’ve always lived for the crown, everything was for the prosperity of the kingdom. my studies, food, rest, my words, everything was for the crown.”

all the gruesome training was for the happiness of the kingdom, your ego nor self ever mattered in it. you were only a cog in the large picture, a king without a will until that day you were freed by the duke,

“i would never disgrace myself to subject my people tosuffer under a tyrant.” the duke face scrunched at your words, “you are shameless, until the end.”

“my duke, i wish to lead a life where i can be true to myself, the crown and to you.” you smiled like you always did when it was just the both of you, yet the unfamiliar duke didn’t return it.

at your words, the boy behind the duke clutched celius sleeves tightly anxiously. no matter how much your heart hurts

“even on your death bed, you only continue to spew nonsense.” celius spats at you. truly strange, your celius would probably be over the moon to hear those same words from your lips,

“don’t say that, these feelings aren’t nonsense.”

“enough of your blasphemy. today will be the day this kingdom will be free from your chains.”

ridiculous, you thought. even when the cold metal sliced through your neck and your head hit the floor, your celius would never say that.

you thought you would return to home or maybe reincarnate into your next life but your soul stayed. you floated adrift amongst the kingdom for the next several years watching the kingdom burn without you.

you watched the young boy grow into a fine adult but his heart didn’t grow with him and was left behind in time. he struggled against the court, against the people and against the crown. the cracks began to happen in court, the nobles schemed amongst themselves to gain even more riches. laws were no longer upheld as they used to, panic and crime swept in and the security

amongst the kingdom fell gradually. nearby nations eyed the kingdom greedily as corruption begin to form in between cracks and the young man still remained a boy beneath the pressure of upholding the kingdom. you watched the nights go by where he would cry in the arms of the duke’s in your old bedroom,

you watched how he struggled in the day approving the faulty decisions made from greed but disguised as welfare for the people. choosing to trust the wrong merchants, who only smuggled substances into the kingdom.

as you watched, you wondered why you were shown this. you were no longer part of the world, yet they refused to let you move on. there was a day where you watched the younger brother

you never know exist crumble inside your office, unable to scavenge the pieces to undo the damage he dealt to his home. he could only helplessly read documents over and over to no avail.

it was no surprise really, you don’t blame him. you were the only person that received the proper education for this, you spent your whole life preparing to be entrusted into that heavy position

one day. if being thrust into all this blindly wasn’t bad enough, not being born from high society most certainly made it more difficult to build alliances with other nobles. even the ever reliant duke was unable to put a stop to the rot sprouting within the kingdom.

“you truly are unfit to be king.” you weren’t sure what washed over you in that moment to let words slip past your ghostly lips, words that would never reach anyone and be lost in the void.

perhaps it was your sole comfort that all your efforts while you were alive would have meant something.

to your surprise, your brother’s head whipped in your direction and for a brief moment you could’ve sworn your eyes met.

“That can’t be right… that person is already long gone…”

you continued to haunt like the ghost you are and watched the the court preyed on the weak king slowly tearing him apart piece by piece, and the kingdom slowly crumbled under the corruption that now reached deeply inside of it.

war eventually broke out with other countries that longed to covet the former prosperity of the kingdom and the fire eventually reached the castle. you watched for the final time as the kingdom burned to the ground alongside with it’s history, culture and people and how it ended with your generation.

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

the next time you opened your eyes again, you were back to your shared bed.you could feel the warm body pressing against yours and the prickling lashes that were on your cheeks. you could recognise the kisses that were left behind and the circles that were being rubbed into your waist.

“you were crying in your sleep, my prince.”

“was i?” you closed your eyes again to blissfully receive the affection of no doubt your duke, he made sure not only kiss your tears away but also to shower you in them. his lips touching your cheek, eyelids, nose and when your lips finally touched his, you opened your eyes to meet his.

you held his face in your hands to make sure this was really your duke and not the one you saw in your dreams. you took your time to affirm yourself that you were back and this was not the

same person who struck you down with that frigid stare of his. celius stared at you with confusion, you could tell there was affection and warmth at the bottom of it all. this was the fiance you were familiar with, the one that would maybe forgive everything you do even if you

one day decided to burn the kingdom down.

“your highness, you’re smiling.”

you left a soft laugh and pulled his waist closer to yours, entangling your legs together. “i just had a bad dream, that’s all.”

the duke furrowed his brows at your answer “surely something you would cry in your sleep in is no simple matter.” you quietly nodded to yourself this was definitely your duke.

“you were in my dream.” you held him close and tucked his head beneath yours, your lips brushing his temple. celius listened to

your words quietly continuing to rubbing soft circles against you, “but you aligned yourself with a bastard and beheaded me.” the duke’s body evidently stiffened beneath yours,

“my prince, you know i would never dare.” he mumbled against your collarbone,

“you are the sun i revolve around, i would never survive without your light shining on me, you are the being that allows me to live.”

“i would never side with a bastard much less dare blemish you in any way.” you gave him abreassuring kiss on his head, hugging his neck close. you knew that was the truth, this duke – your duke on your bed would never but the vivid sensation of his cold blade against your neck

and the feeling of the light in your heart being extinguished against the cold floor of the palace.

“you chose my brother.”

“my dear prince, you have no brother.”

“but you chose him.” you said, “you didn’t choose me.”

maybe this was a silly conversation, maybe you shouldn’t have questioned your lover who has never done you wrong. maybe you shouldn’t have been bitter over something he has never done but the dream clung to your skin and was trying to seep into your bones.

“i would never not choose you,” this might be the hardest he ever clung to you, celius looked up at you from your chest, “that was not me, my prince.” he held your hand against his chest, you could feel his heart thumping against his chest constantly, “ that was a monster donning my skin with my voice. i am right here, my prince.”

“you swear?”

“i swear on the moon and stars,” he intertwined your fingers as if doing so would entwine your fates together and blurring the lines between them, “and i swear upon you, my sun.”

“you won’t betray me?”

celius held the back of your head against his lips, “i deserved to be skinned alive by you and hanged by the city walls half alive, have the people ridicule me until i leave this world in upmost shame and burn in hell for all of eternity.”

you let out a small hum and leaned down to connect you lips again. It was a slow kiss, your tongues played around with each other, celius wasn’t as playful as he usually was. playing a submissive dog in front of you, only pressing his tongue against yours whenever you enticed him, leaving his mouth open for you to explore. your lips continued to touch and part, savoring every touch between you two. celius clutched your shirt beneath you, as he struggled for air but continued to part his lips for you.

for the final time, you simply pressed your lips against each other and a string of saliva connected both of your lips.

Despite your partner's many begrudging protests, the soft snoring that emanated from his position in your lap proved that this sleep was much needed. Pointy teeth peeked through Dottore's lips while his head rested on your shoulder, facing towards you with his arms snaked around your neck. Your own arms were wrapped around the doctor's waist comfortably, holding him close while he slept

Half an hour passed by before Dottore's snoring gradually faded into another sound. You had begun to drift off as well when the noise pulled you back to the waking world. It was hard to tell what exactly this new noise was, but eventually it became clear. It was a whine. Your partner was whining— and beginning to grind against you in your lap

The doctor's hips rolled against yours as a lewd — and rather loud — moan escaped from his lips, leaving you to blush and squirm underneath him, well aware that if this continued on you would get hard and slowly give in to your desires...

“Ah...y/n...y-yes, harder...” Dottore mumbled against your neck, calling out for you in his dreams, no doubt. Does this mean that his dream involved...you? Specifically, did it involve you fucking him? Your answers soon became clear when the doctor's hands unconsciously tangled in the hair near the nape of your neck, thrusting his hips more vigorously than before as he chased some feeling that the 'you' in his dreams caused

It was impossible to ignore the aching, wet feeling in between your legs now. With every sharp thrust against your lap, your dick grew harder and leaked more precum into your underwear. And clearly, your partner had the same issue; tilting your head down a bit, you noticed the growing wet spot on his pants as well. Dottore's own cock had been leaking the whole time, spilling into his underwear as they became stained with his sleepy lust

Carefully, you slid one arm in between your bodies and undid his belt buckle, slipping your hand down the front of his pants and stroking over the wet fabric. The action elicited a gutteral moan from Dottore, who began bucking his hips immediately. His sleepy mind could barely process the new sense of pleasure being administered to his stiff cock, humping your hand like a desperate puppy as you teased him

Letting one of your own needy moans slip out, you maneuvered your hand again and pushed it fully into Dottore's underwear, grabbing his drooling dick and stroking the shaft. “Yes...yes...gods yes...mmm y/n...” Came the doctor's wanton cries as you jerked him off languidly, hissing once your thumb found his slit and teased at the hole. His hips greedily chased your hand, fucking into your tight fist as more whorish sounds were breathed against your neck

“Mmm...good boy, Zandik. Such a cute whore even in your sleep.” You said, clutching the back of his shirt with your other hand. Groaning at how good his dick felt in your hand; slick and veiny and incredibly sensitive underneath your touch

Dottore's hips stuttered before stiffening while his cum painted the front of your shirt, squirting on his shirt a bit too. He always came so much, a little quirk that you found attractive and often used to tease him whenever you milked load after load out of him

After your partner settled down a little you began to squirm again. Even though he came minutes ago, he hasn't stopped humping you yet. Dottore's dick was semi-hard within your hand and making the hottest noises as he continued to fuck up into your cum-coated fist...but you hadn't cum once and it was starting to hurt...your baby's hot breath fanned against your neck with every moan and cry of your name and it was driving you fucking crazy

Surely the doctor wouldn't mind if you let go of his cock long enough to slip yours inside? He would probably love it if you used his sticky cum as lube to finger his hole before you pushed your own thick shaft inside and bounced him on your cock...

It was no secret that the eleventh harbinger, Tartaglia, had boundless stamina. It's one of the reasons why most fatuus would sweat and stammer an excuse whenever the young man asked for a sparring match. That and his terrifying strength, that is...

You were one of the few people that could keep up with that stamina, somewhat... Today just so happened to be one of those days where your match lasted long enough to wear Childe out to the point of exhaustion. Swiftly falling asleep in your lap after you suggested a rest. His eyes fluttering shut as his head laid back onto your shoulder

The comfortable silence that fell over the secluded area that you had fought in was nice after such a fierce fight. Childe's steady breathing nearly lulled you into a lovely nap as well— until a breathy moan came out of him, anyways

Quirking a brow at the unexpected noise, you stared at Childe's face as it scrunched up, opening his mouth to moan again but this time bucking his hips into the air. It was obvious what was happening; your partner was having a wet dream. Calling out your name as his hands unconsciously searched for yours, grasping at them until you helped lace your fingers together. Childe turned his head to the side, now breathing against your neck and arching his back. “Unf...y/n pleeeassee...more, harder...aah– ”

The harbinger's slutty moans caused your dick to twitch, stiffening under him as his hips wiggled and humped the air with more frequency. His hands squeezed yours tighter as he bit back a groan, thrusting upwards one more time and then stilling. A dark wet spot made itself visible in the middle of his pants; he had cum. Your partner just creamed his pants in your lap

You were forced to bite back some sound of your own at the realization, involuntarily thrusting your own hips as you searched for any friction. Childe's lewd scene had you too worked up to ignore it, so you decided to fix the problem that he has created

Trying to go slow and not wake him up, you discarded your partner's pants and boots, leaving him naked from the waist down. You freed your cock from its constraints, growling as the wet head rubbed against your underwear on the way out. The way your member nestled in between Childe's soft cheeks sent a shudder through your body— swallowing dryly, you rubbed against his hole for a minute, teasing both of you before you pushed inside

It was tight... deliciously so. The head of your dick barely fit inside, but you pushed in harder until it popped in. The stretch was what woke the harbinger up, gasping as his eyes snapped open. The burn was immediately noticeable before Childe even figured out what was happening or remembered where he was. “Ah-aah! Ouch...what is– Hey...c-comrade?” He whined, gazing up at you with those beautiful, confused eyes

“Shh, you already came...now it's my turn–” You groaned as your cock pushed farther inside, dragging along your partner's impossibly tight walls. You snaked one hand up and wrapped it around his throat, squeezing tightly and said, “You were...fuck...were grinding on me...felt really good, hah- Mmm take that fucking cock, Ajax—!! ”

He had no choice (not that he would've chosen anything other than this) except taking your fat cock as you thrust up into him, bouncing him in your lap while your heavy panting filled his ears. Childe's hands are laid over yours, digging in harshly as he accepts his situation. Whimpering like a slut while you abuse his hole repeatedly. Not that the harbinger wasn't enjoying this, of course. The dumb smile on his face was proof that he was grateful for this outcome

Tartaglia's naughty dream earned him the kind of fast-paced, desperate fucking that he always begs for. In return, his hole clenched around your dick and he let every last moan and cry fall out of his whore mouth

“Yes, yes, yes...fu-uuuck!! Yesyesyesyesyes—!! ” Childe blurted out, moving his hands down to grab your thighs, using them as leverage to bounce himself and take more of your cock. You responded by choking him even harder, growling right into his ear while your dick pressed on his prostate, which caused your partner's eyes to cross

“Gonna cum, baby? Go on, cum for me. Slut. ” You teased, squeezing the base of Childe's dick before jerking him off. The way his voice goes up an octave and his moans become broken and pathetic signals his incoming release, begging as if his life was on the line while your cock drills his pretty ass

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseyeahyeahyeahyeaaaaaahhhh—!! Fuuuuck yeeeaaahh—!! ” The harbinger cried, sinking down on your dick as it filled him completely, his own cock spraying another round of cum onto the ground as you milked him fucking dry

Satoru Gojo + Suguru Geto

You smelled them the second you stepped inside. two thick, sweet-musk scents tangled together in the air. Satoru’s bright and almost sugary, Sugurus deeper, warmer, like rain on warm wood. It hit you low in the gut and made your cock twitch in your pants before you even saw them.

Satoru was on the couch, shirt hiked above his stomach, one hand loosely around his leaking cock like he’d been trying not to touch too much. His white ears were flat, tail lashing hard against the cushions. The second he saw you he made this broken little sound and tried to get up, but his legs wobbled.

Suguru was in the kitchen doorway, robe hanging open, long black hair messy. His ears were low, cheeks flushed dark, and there was a visible trail of slick running down the inside of one thigh. He looked like he’d been trying to hold it together with sheer will. The second your eyes met, his tail curled tight around his own leg and he exhaled shakily.

“Both of you?” you said, voice low. “At the same time?”

Satoru whined and nodded fast. “It’s bad. Really bad. I tried waiting but Suguru came out of his room and he smelled so good and then I got worse and—” He cut himself off with a soft moan when his own hand twitched on his cock.

Suguru swallowed. “I… didn’t want to bother you. But it’s not stopping. The ache. I can’t think.” His voice was quiet, rough at the edges. “If you’re tired we can—”

“I’m not tired,” you cut in gently, stepping closer. “Come here. Both of you.”

They moved at the same time. Satoru basically launched himself into your chest, tail immediately wrapping around your thigh, face buried in your neck while he rubbed his leaking cock against your hip. Suguru came slower, more hesitant, but when you reached out and cupped the back of his neck he leaned into it like he’d been waiting for permission. His purr was low and shaky.

You walked them toward the bedroom, one arm around each. “Tell me what you need,” you said. “Use your words.”

Satoru answered first, voice muffled against your throat. “Your cock. Please. I need it inside, I need to be full, it hurts so much—”

Suguru’s ears flicked. He didn’t speak right away, but when you glanced at him he met your eyes and whispered, “I need you too. I tried touching myself but it’s not enough. I keep thinking about how you feel.”

You got them on the big bed, side by side on their backs. You took your time stripping them the rest of the way—slow pulls of fabric, hands sliding over their warm skin. Satoru squirmed and whined the whole time, tail trying to drag your hand between his legs. Suguru stayed quieter but his breathing got heavier every time your fingers brushed the base of his tail or the soft skin behind his ears.

You started with your hands. Two fingers in Satoru first because he was already dripping down his thighs and begging. He arched hard, a high sound ripping out of him, ears flattening all the way back.

“Fuck—yes, yes, right there—” His tail thrashed, then wrapped around Suguru’s wrist like he needed something to hold onto. You crooked your fingers and he sobbed, cock jumping against his stomach.

You looked at Suguru while you fingered Satoru. “You okay?”

Suguru’s eyes were glassy. He nodded once, then shook his head. “I—I need it too. Please.”

You pulled your fingers out of Satoru (who whined in protest) and slid them into Suguru instead. He was just as wet, maybe more, and the second you pushed in he let out this long, shaky exhale and his whole body relaxed.

“There you go,” you murmured. “Breathe for me.”

You worked them both open like that. alternating, sometimes two fingers in each at the same time, watching the way their tails curled around each other for comfort. Satoru kept up a running commentary of needy little noises and half-begged sentences. Suguru was quieter but every time you hit the right spot inside him his ears would twitch hard and he’d let out this soft, broken purr that vibrated through the bed.

When they were both loose and dripping and begging, you finally pushed your pants down. Your cock was hard and leaking, and both of them stared like they were starving.

Satoru reached for it first. “Me first? Please? I’ll be good after, I swear, just—let me feel it first—”

You lined up with Suguru instead, slow and deliberate. “You can wait a minute,” you told Satoru, voice calm but firm. “Let me take care of him. Then you get your turn.”

Suguru’s eyes fluttered when you pushed in. He was so hot and wet around you it took effort not to just slam in. You went slow, watching his face, one hand stroking his tail base the way you knew he liked. He made this soft, relieved sound when you bottomed out.

“God—yes. Just like that. Don’t pull out yet, please…”

You rocked into him in long, deep strokes while Satoru watched, whining and touching himself, tail lashing. Every few thrusts you reached over and wrapped your hand around Satoru’s cock or slid two fingers back into him to keep him open and desperate.

“Look at you both,” you said, voice a little rough. “So fucking needy. Dripping all over the sheets. You feel so good, Suguru. So tight around me.”

Suguru moaned softly, one hand reaching out blindly until Satoru caught it and laced their fingers together. The sight of them holding onto each other while you fucked Suguru made heat curl low in your stomach.

You didn’t let Suguru come yet. You pulled out when he was close, ignoring his soft protest, and turned to Satoru.

“Your turn.”

Satoru practically threw himself onto his hands and knees, tail high and quivering, presenting so fast it would’ve been funny if he wasn’t shaking. You pushed into him in one smooth thrust and he screamed—high and broken and so loud Suguru actually laughed breathlessly beside him.

“Fuck—fuck, yes, finally—your cock, it’s so good, please don’t stop, pleasepleaseplease—”

You fucked him harder than you had Suguru, one hand reaching over to stroke his cock. Satoru babbled the whole time, ears flat, pushing back into every thrust like he couldn’t get enough. Suguru watched, one hand slowly stroking his own cock, eyes dark and hungry.

When Satoru got too close you slowed down, pulled almost all the way out, and said, “Not yet.”

He whined but obeyed, trembling. You turned your head to Suguru. “Come here.”

Suguru moved without hesitation. You had him position in front of Satoru while you stayed buried in him. Then you reached and guided Suguru’s cock to Satoru’s mouth. Satoru took it greedily, moaning around it.

You started moving again—slow, deep thrusts into Satoru while he sucked Suguru. The sounds were filthy. You kept talking, low and steady.

“That’s it. Both of you. So good for me. Suguru, you can fuck his mouth a little if you want. He can take it.”

and suguru did.

careful at first, then deeper when Satoru moaned encouragement around him. You fucked Satoru through it until his whole body was shaking, then pulled out and switched to Suguru instead, repositioning him on his back. Suguru’s head fell forward with a broken moan.

You went back and forth like that for a while—fucking one while the other got attention with your hands or mouth or just watching. Every time one of them got too close you backed off, made them breathe, made them wait. The begging got louder. Satoru stopped making sense. Suguru started saying your name like a prayer every time you pushed back into him.

When you finally let them cum it was almost at the same time. You had Suguru on his back, legs wrapped around you, fucking him deep and steady while Satoru knelt beside you and jerked himself off, tail wrapped around your thigh. Suguru came first, whole body locking up, a long shaky purr ripping out of him as he clenched around your cock. You followed right after, buried deep, filling him while he held onto you and shook.

Satoru came two seconds later with a loud, broken cry, painting Suguru’s stomach and his own hand.

You stayed inside Suguru for a long minute, catching your breath, one hand petting Satoru’s ears, the other stroking Suguru’s flank. Both of them were purring now. Satoru loud and ragged, Suguru low and content.

You pulled out slow. Suguru made a soft unhappy noise at the loss. You kissed his forehead, then Satoru’s.

“Stay right there,” you murmured. “I’ll clean you both up.”

Satoru, already half-asleep and clingy, mumbled, “Don’t go far…”

Suguru just reached out and caught your wrist, eyes soft. “Thank you.”

You cleaned them gently with a warm cloth, then got water and made them drink. When you finally lay down between them they both curled in immediately—Satoru half on top of you, Suguru tucked against your side, tails draped over your legs like they were making sure you couldn’t leave.

The heat would come back later. But for now they were full and warm and purring against you, and the only sounds in the room were soft breathing and the occasional sleepy, satisfied little mewl.

You closed your eyes, one hand in white hair, the other resting on a warm striped tail, and let yourself rest.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji was on the bed, back against the headboard, one arm thrown over his eyes like he could block out the heat if he just ignored it hard enough. His tail was curled tight under him, tip twitching every few seconds. He was naked already—had probably stripped the second his heat hit. his cock was flushed dark and leaking steadily onto his stomach. Slick had soaked the sheets beneath him. every breath came out rough.

The second the door clicked he growled without moving his arm. “Out.”

You didn’t leave. You just leaned against the doorframe for a second, watching him. “Wow. Look at you.”

Toji’s arm dropped. His eyes were glassy, cheeks flushed dark under the scar. “I said—”

“Trying to tough it out all by yourself again?” you cut in, voice soft but teasing. You pushed off the door and crossed the room slow. “Such a big, tough guy… until the heat hits and you’re leaking all over your own sheets.”

He bared his teeth, but it didn’t have much bite. His tail uncurled a little when you sat on the edge of the bed. “Don’t fuckin’ baby me.”

“Too late.” You reached out and scratched behind one of his ears. Toji’s whole body jerked, then he leaned into it before he could stop himself. A low, reluctant rumble started in his chest. “Aww, there it is. You’re burning up, huh? Poor thing.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, but his eyes were already half-lidded and his tail had started curling around your wrist.

You kept petting his ear with one hand while the other slid down his chest, over the hard lines of muscle, down to where his cock was twitching against his stomach. You didn’t touch it yet—just let your fingers trail through the mess of precum and slick on his skin.

“Bet you were touching yourself before I got here,” you said, casually, like you were talking about the weather. “Trying to make it go away. Did it help?”

Toji’s ears flicked back. “No.”

“Didn’t think so.” You finally wrapped your hand around his cock, slow and loose. He hissed and his hips jerked up. “Look how wet you are already. All this slick and you’re still trying to pretend you don’t need help.”

“I don’t—” His voice cracked when you gave him one slow stroke. “Fuck—don’t tease.”

“But you’re cute when you’re all worked up and stubborn.” You leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Lie back for me.”

He grumbled the whole time but let you push him down flat on the bed. You settled between his spread thighs, running your hands up and down them, thumbs pressing into the tense muscle.

You took your time opening him up.

Two fingers first, sliding in easy with how wet he was. Toji’s head tipped back against the pillows and he let out this rough, bitten-off sound. You crooked them just right and watched his stomach jump.

“There we go,” you murmured, voice warm and a little teasing. “Feels better when you stop fighting it, doesn’t it?”

“ shut up,” he growled, but it came out breathless and his hips were already rocking down onto your fingers.

You added a third, slow and careful, and he moaned—low and rough, trying to swallow it. You stroked his cock with your other hand at the same time, just slow enough to keep him on edge.

“Look at you,” you said softly. “All that growling and now you’re pushing back on my fingers like you can’t get enough. Such a good boy when you let me take care of you.”

Toji’s ears flattened harder. “I’m not—fuck—a good boy—”

“Sure you are.” You leaned down and licked a slow stripe up his cock, then took the head into your mouth for a second, sucking lightly. He made a choked sound. You pulled off with a wet pop and smiled up at him. “See? Taking it so well for me.”

You worked him open until he was loose and dripping, four fingers easy, his hole fluttering every time you pulled back. Only then did you slick your cock and line up.

Toji’s eyes were dark and hazy when they met yours. He didn’t look away.

You pushed in slow, watching every flicker across his face. The stretch made his mouth drop open on a silent moan, ears twitching wildly. When you bottomed out he let out this long, shaky breath.

“Fuck… yeah,” he rasped. “Just like that.”

You stayed still for a second, one hand stroking his hip, the other petting slow behind his ear again. “There it is. All full now. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

He nodded once, jerky. You started moving—long, deep strokes that made his whole body rock with every thrust. Toji met you halfway at first, pushing back, but the teasing and the soft coaxing seemed to have changed something in him. After a minute his growls turned into rough, needy moans and his hands came up to grip your shoulders like he needed something to hold onto.

You kept talking, voice low and warm between thrusts.

“Look at you taking it so well. So desperate for me.” You reached down and stroked his cock in time with your hips. “You can growl and curse all you want, but your body’s honest. Dripping everywhere. Clenching around me like you never want me to pull out.”

Toji’s head tipped back, a broken sound ripping out of him. “Shut—ah—shut up—”

You didn’t. You leaned down, chest to chest, and kissed the corner of his mouth again while you fucked him a little harder. “It’s okay to need it. I’ve got you. Not going anywhere until you’re full and satisfied.”

His ears flicked at the word “ full,” You kept the pace steady and deep, hitting that spot inside him on every thrust, stroking his cock, petting his ears, murmuring soft teasing things against his skin.

When he got close you slowed down just enough to drag it out.

“Not yet,” you said gently when he whined. “Let me enjoy you a little longer. You’re so pretty like this—all flushed and shaking and trying so hard not to beg.”

Toji cursed you out, but it was weak and his hips kept trying to chase your hand. You gave him what he needed eventually—fucked him harder, stroked him faster, whispered “That’s it, cum for me, good boy” right against his ear.

He came with a deep, guttural groan, cock pulsing between you, hole clenching tight around your cock. You fucked him through it, then pushed in deep and came too, filling him while he shook and panted and finally let that low, rumbling purr out.

You stayed inside him after, both of you catching your breath. Toji’s arms were still around your shoulders. You stroked slow fingers through his hair and behind his ears, soft and soothing now.

“There you are,” you murmured. “ Knew you had it in you.”

Toji made a gruff, embarrassed sound but didn’t shove you off. If anything he pulled you closer, face tucked against your neck.

“Don’t get used to it,” he muttered, voice hoarse.

You smiled and kissed his temple. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Ryomen Sukuna

His door was closed, but you could hear him pacing. Heavy steps. The occasional sharp thump of his tail hitting the wall. Low, frustrated growls left him.

You knocked once. “Sukuna.”

“Go away.”

“You’re in heat.”

“I’m aware.” Another thump. “I don’t need your help. I can handle it.”

You opened the door anyway.

He was a wreck. Pink hair wild, markings standing out stark against flushed skin, ears pinned flat, tail lashing so hard it kept knocking things off his desk. His cock was hard and angry-red, leaking down his thigh, and there was slick running in shiny trails down both legs. The sheets on his bed were already in shreds from his claws.

His eyes snapped to you. (all four of them) narrowed. “I told you—”

“You’re hurting,” you said, calm, stepping inside and closing the door. “And I’m not leaving you like this.”

He bared his teeth, sharp fangs flashing, but he didn’t move when you crossed the room. Didn’t move when you reached out and touched his jaw. He leaned into it before he could stop himself, then jerked back like he’d been burned.

“Brat,” he snarled. “Touch me I’ll kill you.”

“I’m willing to risk it,” you said. You backed him toward the bed until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. You knew it was a loose threat. He sat down hard, legs spreading without meaning to. More slick dripped onto the floor.

You got on your knees between his thighs and ran your hands up them. He watched you with narrowed eyes, chest heaving. When you wrapped your fingers around his cock he hissed and his hips jerked up.

“Don’t—shit—”

You stroked him slow, thumb swiping over the head, while your other hand slid between his legs and pressed two fingers against his hole. He was soaked. The second you pushed in he made this choked sound and his head fell back, ears flat, claws digging into the ruined sheets.

“You can growl all you want,” you said, voice low, “but your body’s telling me exactly what it needs.”

He didn’t answer with words. Just pushed down onto your fingers with a snarl that turned into a moan halfway through. he clawed the bed and cursed and tried to pretend he wasn’t shaking.

When you finally pulled your fingers out and lined your cock up he was panting, eyes glassy, tail wrapped tight around your waist without him seeming to notice.

“Do it,” he ordered, voice cracking. “Fill me. Now. And don’t you dare be gentle.”

You pushed in slow anyway. He took it. his hole clenched around you—but the second you bottomed out he let out this long, shaky breath and his whole body went limp for a second.

“Fuck… yes.”

You fucked him hard, just like he asked. Deep, rough strokes that made the bed creak and his claws tear new holes in the sheets. He met every thrust, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, growling and moaning and cursing your name like it was an insult and a prayer at the same time.

“Bite if you need to,” you told him when his teeth started worrying at his own lip. “I can take it.”

He did—latched onto your shoulder and bit down hard when you changed the angle and started hitting that spot inside him over and over. The pain mixed with the heat in your gut and made you fuck him even harder. He came like that—sudden, violent, cock pulsing untouched between you, hole clenching so tight it dragged you right over the edge with him. You buried yourself deep and filled him while he shook and growled and bit down harder on your shoulder.

After, you stayed inside him. One hand stroking slow through his hair, the other resting on his hip. He didn’t shove you off. Just kept you there, still buried in him, tail heavy and warm around your waist, one clawed hand resting on the back of your neck.

“…Stay,” he muttered against your throat, so quiet you almost missed it. “Until it comes back. Then we’re doing that again. And you’re not pulling out until I say so.”

You smiled and kissed the bite mark you’d left on his skin. “Whatever you need.”

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 . . . you were aware of choso's family. his circumstances weren't exactly normal. then again, in the jujutsu society, whos circumstances are really normal? your used to these type of things, well—you thought you were. but! there isn't much you can do when your boyfriend is half-human, half-curse. at least he was a good brother.

choso had—albiet terribly—expressed his concerns for dinner. after hearing about his "dad," and brothers situation, you could concur the dinner might be a little . . . dramatic? it was a family reunion! things like this make choso stressed, so like the good boyfriend you are . . . you helped him keep his mind off of the drama—with a distraction.

choso was right, its barely started and the dinner is already awkward. a man you swear you've seen before, one with a long horizontal stitch on his forehead, was trying to chat it up with people much younger than him—or so you thought. he was somehow the mother and father to choso and his brothers. eso, one of choso's brothers, the one with leather and a shitty haircut, looked a bit bored. he looked like a slut, in your opinion, then again—would that be an insult to him. and kechizu, the more curse-looking one . . . lets not talk about that. the last person there was a teenager, yuuji itadori. you actually liked this one. he was a sweetheart, although sukuna knocked some of the sweetness down. choso and him were the ones to be glaring at geto—kenjaku—mr. kamo? whichever name. regardless, you answered their questions, acting as if you were angel.

"are you a sorcerer?" technically, yes. "why haven't i seen you before, then?" i tended to stay overseas for a period of time. "why do you like my son." he's adorable, why not? "you better treat my big brother right!" i swear on my life, i wouldn't dream of hurting him.

you'd answer their questions with a smile, soothing rubbing choso's thigh. simply for fun you'd ask him a question for your own amusement, knowing what he's feeling.

you'd think choso would be focused and in the conversation, he wasn't, that much was evident in his expressions. "big brother, are you alright?" eso asked, looking confused at choso. "yea, your really red!" yuuji chimes in. it was quite adorable and funny how much choso was struggling. before they arrived at the house you had strapped a pretty pink vibrator to his cock. you were sure his tip was red and throbbing, leaking precum onto the toy and his boxers. it didn't help he also had a butt plug in, preventing your cum to slip from him. choso clears his throat with a nod. "y-yes . . . " he mumbles, putting food into his mouth to prevent him from moaning.

kenjaku looks between the two of you with a knowing look, a slight grin on his face. you chuckle and continue rubbing his thigh gently. the thing about choso, is that he has a sensitive tip. that thing in his legs is most definitely a pussy destroyer (anything destroyer really), it was was uselessly big and sensitive. good thing he didn't have to use it! he had you. despite you being so cruel.

throughout the dinner, you'd occasionally put your hand in your pocket to adjust the vibrator strapped to his sensitive tip. he'd jolt and dismiss his brothers questions until he couldn't handle it anymore.

choso gently tugs on your dress shirt beneath the table, looking at you with pleading eyes, knowing he'd be punished if he came without permission. he looks as if he's about to cry—you smile, looking at his adorable expression. you nod towards the bathroom, silently telling him to get up—a look in your eye that says "'ill be there in a second." choso nods, choking out an 'excuse me' as he gets up with shaky legs. after about a minute, smile and excuse yourself "excuse me," you push your chair back and stand up, walking to the bathroom. as you do, everyone gives you questionable looks, but you ignore them.

you walk into the bathroom to find choso sitting on the toilet like a good boy, tightly gripping his pants. "such a good boy," you whisper, pressing a kiss to his red cheek. "p-please," the poor boy pleads.

a chuckle leaves your lips. "i know, i know . . . i'm helping, i am." you help him get out of his pants, a sympathetic pout on your face as his cock. your sure its super sensitive to the touch at this point. theres a mess made of precum, his cock is throbbing, and his tip is an angry red. you mercifully take of the vibrator. "i'm surprised you lasted this long. it wasn't a punishment, honey," you coo, gently grasping his cock. "you know you could've asked for some help a while ago right?"

choso grips onto the edge of the sink counter as you carefully grab his raw cock, a whine leaving his lips as you pump it slowly. "y-yes," he mumbles. you look at him with an unimpressed expression. "did you really?" choso looks away from your eyes. "no . . . "

you frown. "aw, im sorry, honey. i should've communicated better." you lean up and press a kiss to his cheek before kissing his leaking tip. "do you need to be fucked, or do you just wanna cum?" choso whimpers, "fucked! please . . . " his desperation was always so cute. so you ablige, switching spots with him. when you remove the butt plug you can't help but drool. your cum starts to spill from him. perhaps it was your possessive side, but you loved it. his leaky cock bounces, sticky tip slapping his stomach as you make him bounce on your cock.

his uselessly big tits bounce as he does, his nipples calling to you as he bounces. another thing about choso, he also has a sensitive chest. one of your hands cups his chest, thumb and index finger lightly pinching his nipple. choso whimpers, leaning towards your touch as you rub and tug.

your cock so thick, it touches where it needs to, stimulating his prostate. he begins to pant, desperately fucking himself on your cock. "a-ah! ngh—ah . . . fuck," he moans, eyes rolled back because of how good he feels. "ah, ah. quieter, honey. you don't want your brothers to hear you, do you?" you face pout, looking up at him. he vigorously shakes his head 'no,' his lips pursed. his arms warp around your neck, pushing your head towards his chest. you smile, kissing his bare skin before you kitten lick nipples. your free hand going to the other one, playing with it as your mouth envelops his bud in warmth.

his ass slaps roughly against your thighs as his movements, his back in a pleaured arch as he rides you. "f-fuck," he curses. and there's that sign. when choso's close, he purposefully tilts his head to the side or back, silently asking for kisses. once he gets those, his legs spread and he sucks in a breath, eyes rolling back as he cums. of course, this time he's slapping a hand over his mouth, but only after he's fully come down from his high does he suck in a breath and start breathing again.

"good j—" you begin to speak before he interrupts you. "more . . . " he begs in a whisper. he swallows and leans close to you, tears streaming down his face. "more! please . . . "

you grin at his expression and lift him off of your cock, your cum leaking from his ass. you smile and stand up, carrying to the shower. you were lucky to have a shower seat, allowing him to actually rest his back on something while you fuck him. setting him down, you smile at the mess he's making. "so cute . . . " you mumble and line your tip with him, pushing in him eagerly. you push his legs up by his thighs, almost folding him over as you fuck him. "ah—fuck, honey. don't squeeze me so hard, i'm gonna loose it—" you curse through gritted teeth.

"'m sorry," he pants, taking your cock like champ with his thighs to his chest. "c-can't help it. fuck!" he wraps his arms around you again, rocking with the force of your rough thrusts. it's becoming harder for him to keep his moans quiet.

choso's sobbing while taking your cock. fat tears roll down his cheeks as his nails dig into your back. "so good. so good—ngh! ah . . . a-AH!" choso whines and he starts to do it again. his chest stutters and leans his head back, sucking in a deep breath. a whine leaves his throat—one several octaves louder than his speaking voice. his mouth parts as he feels your lips against his skin.

he cums with a cry, stifled by him biting his bottom lip. although, it doesn't make much of a difference.

his brothers are curses. everyone in that room is at least half-curses. all of them, which have exceptional hearing—they can hear him. it doesn't help that the walls aren't particularly thick. choso's loud moans can be heard, the four in the dining room looking awkwardly at the wall as they hear you fuck choso dumb in the bathroom. on the toilet, on the sink, in the shower, on the floor, they can hear you going at it—choso's restraint loosening every time your cock jabs his prostate. 'more' . . . 'more' . . . 'more.' the poor man wasn't at all satisfied. he wanted to filled, pleaured by your cock. maybe even give his brothers a neice or nephew in this thirsty little fantasy of his.

"yesyesyesyesyes," a string of words left choso's lip as your fucking him on the floor. his head his resting on the fluffy shower mat at the edge of the bath. thank god the two of you cleaned the house before his family came.

"mng—AH! fuck—ngh!" his moans were music to your ears as he cums with you for the maybe sixth time in this "bathroom break." his chest is a mess of cum, your shirt a bit dirty from when he rode you. your voice his shaky and husky, as you press sloppy kisses along his neck. "satisfied?" choso nods, not trusting his voice to respond to you. you chuckle at his love-filled eyes, you could swear there were hearts in them. you life him up. "let's clean you up, yeah?"

you help him clean himself, putting on his robes and fixing his hair. he looks ashamed at the mess he's made of both you and himself, but he can't be super upset with the outcume. considering your cum is stuffed inside of him via the butt plug that you reinserted. "ready to have an awkward dinner?" you rub his arms gently and kiss his nose, putting the pink vibrator in a drawer. "uh, sure . . . "

you chuckle at his lack of words and open the bathroom door. the two of you walk out, choso hunched over a bit in shame. he knows they heard him. he was supposed to be the perfect older brother, but—he so happened to be a loud moaner. you've told him to be vocal in the past, now he has . . . at the cost of embarrassment.

behind him is you, walking wth confidence and amusement with your hands in your pockets. you had fun, this is your house, there's no need to be ashamed. plus, the embarrassed blush on choso's pale cheeks was worth it.

the two of you reach the table. you pull out the chair for choso and wait until he sits down to push it back in. the table is quiet as you yourself sit down in your chair with a slight smile. everyone has a pink tint on their cheeks, looking away from choso in awkwardness. it was silent until kenjaku started laughing, perhaps getting flashbacks of his younger years? everyone looks at him skeptically, wondering what he could possible say.

"choso's a bottom, huh? didn't think the quiet one would be so loud."

But that relief lasted until Bruce decided he was done dancing.

He staggered dramatically off the table and made a beeline straight for you. His arm slung over your shoulders, weight settling against you like he’d just run a marathon instead of having a glass of champagne.

“Whoa,” he slurred, head tipping forward to rest against your collarbone. “Think I overdid it.”

You didn’t look at him. Didn’t acknowledge him. Just adjusted your stance automatically to support his weight. However, inside, you were begging the universe to swallow you whole. The cameras followed. Of course they did.

“My knight,” Bruce whispered, poking your cheek with a drowsy smile. “My mysterious shadow man. Tell me, have you always been this handsome or did I finally drink enough to unlock your true form?”

You remained still like a statue. A really annoyed statue. Which apparently meant that your boyfriend had an invitation to nuzzle your neck.

“God,” someone nearby laughed, “he’s drunk-drunk.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response.

He was not drunk. This was all a bit. An elaborate cover for the fact that Bruce Wayne was in love with his bodyguard, but couldn’t exactly go around holding your hand in front of the media without starting a frenzy. So this? This was his solution. Pretend to be inebriated. Cling to you like a sloshed koala. Hide his affections behind feigned debauchery.

You hated how well it worked.

Eventually, the opportunity came—a lull in the music, a bored crowd, enough drunken distraction elsewhere—and you seized it. One firm arm around Bruce's waist while the other hastily plastered his shirt to his chest, you made a clean getaway. By the time you got him into the limo, he was grinning like a man who had won.

You shut the door behind him, climbed in, and finally, finally, let yourself react. You turned, leaned in, and flicked his damn forehead.

“OW!”

“Stop pretending you’re drunk,” you muttered. “You’re lucky I couldn’t shove you off the table.”

“You were going to shove me!?” Bruce clutched his shirt to his bare chest like some Victorian damsel. “I was performing.”

“You were humiliating the both of us.”

“I was working the room!”

You let your head fall back against the seat with a muted thud and stared at the ceiling like it might offer divine intervention. “God,” you exhaled. “I need a new job.”

Bruce’s head snapped toward you like you’d just declared you were moving to Mars. “No. No, don’t say that. Take it back.”

“I’m serious,” you said, rubbing your temple. “I could be doing literally anything else. Teaching self defense to kids. Working personal security for someone less high profile. Hell, I could be a lighthouse keeper. Alone. With peace and silence.”

Bruce's bottom lip jutted out slightly. “But then I wouldn’t see you every day.”

“That’s kind of the point.”

“You’re being mean,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “You didn’t say anything earlier when I climbed on the table.”

“Because I was too busy calculating sniper angles and exits in case Falcone’s men decided to get jumpy.”

“Oh.”

You looked at him. “You had, what, one glass of champagne?”

“Two,” he said defensively. “And one of them was very full.” You stared. He wilted. “…Okay, fine, I wasn’t drunk. But I had to make it believable.”

“So you could grind shirtless on a $30,000 table?”

“So I could lean on you in public without anyone asking questions,” Bruce snapped. “You know how hard it is to date someone when everyone thinks you’re Gotham’s most available bachelor?”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It is!” he said, gesturing wildly. “You think I want to act like a drunken himbo just to get away with hugging you? I hate champagne. It tastes disgusting, yet I drink it for us.” You didn’t answer. Simply, tilting your head to rest it lightly against his. “Besides, admit it. That little spin on the table was hot.”

Even with Enten sheathed, Chihiro felt your energy vibrating through the thick bamboo wood of the swords cover. Your heart pulses like a drummer banging his instrument. Fingertips digging into the handle like you wanted to imprint yourself into it.

Chihiro rids himself of the thought of you standing anxiously on the other side of the room, watching him carefully so that he could keep his vision from blurring as he shuts the journal and inspects the outside.

Worn down. . . Used.

The binder of the brown leather journal has an initial carved into it — C.R.

Every bit of your personality sparks the journal in Chihiro's hands. You've made it into your own, and it strikes a massive interest in his core.

"Sooo.." You clear your throat. Chihiro turns his head to glance at you, and he instantly spots the way your pulse jumps on your neck. "S-so, do you.. like my room? Isn't it cool?"

In a fit of nervous energy, you give a small spin to gesture the room.

Chihiro opens his coat to 'casually' and carefully hide the small journal marked C.R. in his pocket before you can see him doing so as if he wasn't going to read through the pages when he was alone.

His breath catches in his throat at how anxious you seem before he nods wordlessly. He could see himself coming in here often. It smells like you. A soft, soapy smell fills the air, and he can't help the way he leans into it because it reminds him so much of you.

You bite at your inner cheek to hide a satisfied smile and take a half-step towards him, only for him to take a step back. His shoulder bumps into the lampshade placed beside the desk with the action.

A weak, shaky smile is placed on your face. You could only manage enough composure to hold out Enten for him— he had prompted you to hold onto it while he used your restroom and didn't ask for it back when he decided to inspect your room too.

"Here." You tried to hide the way your heart broke at his distance.

Chihiro has always been like this with you. Quiet, and... and cautious. He keeps his distance despite knowing so much about you. In spite of him knowing how much you liked him and why you do so.

Chihiro is like this with you.

He just is.

Because with everyone else; he seems more comfortable. He acts with his heart and his head. With you, it seems to be his head and his body.

And his body never hides his discomfort.

It confused you immensely. You were his as he was yours. Why did he feel the need to tense his shoulders when you walked in?

The red eyed boy nods and steps up to grab it carefully, "Thank you, [Name]."

"Yeah." You reply breathlessly.

"Let's get going." Chihiro orders as he loops Enten in his halter. His fingers clench around the handle in a nervous habit before his left hand reaches out to grip your wrist lightly (he feels your blood pumping through your veins at the touch) to lead you out with him.

He's embarrassed. . . You noted as you watched the back of his head. To anyone else, he would have just been dragging along his friend outside with a blank expression. To you, he is your boyfriend who rarely touches you, but he doesn't mind leading you head first in case danger striked. He's confident in his ability to protect you and it shows that much but he isn't confident when it comes to holding your hand — which is why he resorts to holding your wrist instead. Why is he always so embarrassed?

"...Can I ask you a question, Chihiro?" You lips part when your voice comes out shaky. Chihiro's ears perk up, much like a kittens, pausing in the middle of the hallway to place his focus on you. "... Uhm, uh-..."

With his eyes on you and his grip still warm and tight, you loose your train of thought. It felt like crickets were chirping in the back of your head and they all decided to band together to eat away at your brain — all they'll taste is your worry anyway, not much need for concern really...

Chihiro waits patiently.

He blinks slowly, lashes fluttering with every blink, and brings his bottom lip in between his teeth, chewing softly. He's never looked quite guilty as that before.

Your eyebrows shoot up upon further notice.

"Why do you look like that?" You asked abruptly.

Out of context, yes, you can understand why that would cause someone to be offended. You weren't the greatest at picking out your words (quite the contrary to Chihiro). But, within context, you simply wanted to know what was on his mind to figure out why he gave you such an expression.

Heat rises to Chihiro's face and he looks to the side, genuinely caught off guard by your question. His eyes shift from the carpeted floor, to your shoes pressed up to the furthest corner of the room before they finally dropped to his coat. His pocket is heavy with your journal.

When his grip loosens off your wrist, you were quick to backtrack, "I mean. You have this look on your face- not, it's not ugly. You're not ugly, dear me, not at all. Sorry for how it came out, I'm wondering why you look like that?"

You send him a boyish smile to cover up your stuttering nature, too cute for chihiro to not gaze at. His glare is heavy. Heart pounding. But it doesn't last long as he turns to walk again, his fingers weakly digging into your veins to feel your heart beating beneath his touch.

"... Thanks." He replies to your compliment (if one could call it that), but he does not mention that he's got your journal tucked away in the confinements of his coat. "You don't often ask me things. I've come to that realization just now.. it makes me wonder what you really wanted to ask me..."

"Oh." You shrug lightly. "Sorry, it's - it's a habit, i guess. I wanted to ask why.. why did you happen to look so tense? Did you need a massage or what? I can help you out, Chihiro -"

He reaches the door for you and slids it open with such delicate silence that you were almost afraid of breaking it. Surely, he can hear you swallow nervously...

Chihiro briefly considers your offer, but that is not why he is so tense. The sun hits his face as he steps outside your family house with you in tow. "I didn't realize you've noticed."

The rays of sunlight peak through his spiky hair and warm his scalp. He's been growing it out because you mentioned it looking good on him. He remembers it clearly — 'Do you style your hair? I like it like this.' — it was the first time you ever played with his hair, the light tugging of your hands in his hair left him feeling breathless.

"I notice a lot of things about you, 'hiro." His breath hitches at your words. In an almost reverent nature, you smiled down at him as he turned to you, startled. You held such a tender grin on your face that you can see the effects it has on him.

His body goes tense again, and his hands drop to his side, clenching and unclenching his fist like he can still feel your pulse under his.

You almost wanted to push more affection onto him to test why he seems so afraid of you. But you knew that could possibly drive him further away, so you bear the pain of his discomfort to keep him as close as he can let you.

"..." Chihiro frowns in confusion, his nose scrunching with the expression. "Shiba, Hinao, Char... they're waiting on us for dinner..."

Right... You've all agreed to eat dinner like normal people. Like the son of Rokuhira Kunishige wasn't on a revenge mission and that everyone else wasn't hiding secrets about themselves (more like you're starting to feel bitter about Chihiro's coldness).

You bought him in your home in hopes of letting him have an insight into your life — to look at your photographs on the wall and to maybe meet your family, but they just happened to be busy. Maybe you hoped for something more, something far more precious, a side of his vulnerability, his weaknesses and his strengths, his body, his mind, and his soul.

Instead, you were a desperate frog trapped on a sinking water lily with clueless fish surrounding the lake who poke and prod at you.

"...Okay." And yet, you still didn't question the way his breathing stuttered in relief.

. . .

November 1st,

i bumped into a boy while getting ice cream. he was so pretty that i believed he was a dream. his eyes were breathtaking as were his lashes, they were dark. his eyes were red btw. red. and his nose, oh, if i could give birth, i would give birth to a bunch of his kids with his nose structure. and he had this scar on the side of his head. it was a big contrast against the sharpness of his features but i believe it suited him.

November 6th,

i've seen him again. i really hope he doesn't think i'm a stalker. wait, i'm getting ahead of myself. he probably doesn't remember me. it's whatever. so, i see him walking down the street with his little sister(?), i think. they didn't really look a like, but siblings come in different shapes and sizes? and she wants ice cream, and i think to myself me too! so i follow after them. maybe i was hoping to talk to him. yeah, i was. did and done. i wonder if he even likes ice cream, i saw him being ice cream, and i rambled to him about my favorite flavor, and he sticked around and listened. i think he was trying to be polite. i liked it, so i pretended we were friends already and that i knew him.

at first, i could see the confusion of it. he tried to remember me then he admitted that he doesn't recognize me. this. this is where my plan starts to work out, his little sister helped me out by saying his name; chihiro. argh, even his name suits him. so chihiro, his sister and i eat ice cream together in tense silence. did he have friends? oh no, what if he didn't and he thought i was poking fun at him?

November 9th,

his little sister found me. she keeps doing this. i don't even know her name but i know that she's got a big appetite for such a little body. she asked me superficial questions- i'm not a fan of them but what a kid doesn't know won't hurt them. there was something in the pit of my stomach that warned me to stay away from her. she's a cute thing but, things weren't adding up. especially when a random man appeared in the middle of my kitchen, he teleported inside and ate my food and took her away! what normal kid goes along with that??

Chihiro smiles to himself, and the tips of his ears burn harshly. He can just imagine Char's joyful nature as she was being fed by a total stranger. He flips through the pages, aware that he only ever has limited time by himself whenever the world slept. When he catches sight of his name- he stops to read with wide eyes.

November 22nd,

chihiro is much more observant than i can even begin to explain. he sees when a hair is out of place on shiba's very slimy head and when the cornea of an eye is off centered. but he's also so blind to my feelings. i didn't expect myself to be this taken by him. i can't help it. he's just kind. he's very kind and thoughtful, but he's distant and cold at the same time. i want to go beneath those walls, not to benefit me, but because i have seen how he is... i would like for him to have someone he can be himself with. that if he wants to cry, he can go ahead and do it. if he wants to laugh and get angry a second later, he should feel safe to do so. i am not opposed to that being me.. however, chihiro is blind to this, even when i tell him honestly, on my own life, what i would like.

November 31st,

i've asked him out. i'm pretty sure my face was redder than a tomato and that my voice was shaky. it was embarrassing as much as it was exhilarating. he's been so busy with other things that I really doubt he'd even consider it, but he said yes?? i'm so confused, but i'm so happy. i've planned the perfect date with him.

Unknown,

i can't remember the date. i can't remember the time, i can't remember what happened exactly, but chihiro kissed my cheek. his lips were cold, which wasn't a problem considering how hot my face became once i realized the reality of the situation. he kissed my cheek goodbye before he left for a mission. i regret not asking him why he felt the need to do it when he always returns..

Chihiro, on the other hand, remembers it clearly. He was overwhelmed with an urge - it was strange, and it made the pit of his stomach tingle. He didn't expect himself to do it.

The last time he kissed someone... it was his dad (and he was also extremely young). His lips only know the taste of copper from his blood, the salt of his sweat, and the savory taste of food.

But, before he left, he lingered in your space. Your eyes kept holding his gaze as if you were waiting for him to leave, and he remembered how his eyes welled up with unshed tears before he blinked them away.

You told him in a whisper: 'Come back soon, Hiro.'

And instead of a nod or a ghost of a smile as he usually does, he leaned into you and pecked your cheek with a racing heart. It was a quick one. The type Chihiro gave to his dad when he was embarrassed about it. But the feelings were different here. It was intentional and heart pounding, to him, at least.

He wanted to reassure you in the best way possible that he will return and that... that there is more of him than just a straight face.

That now, his lips know the sweet taste of your skin.

December 5th,

it snowed when chihiro walked with me. i've heard fairy tales that say the first snowfall with a lover will be the one to keep forever. i sure hope so. i'll keep the memories of chihiro forever, and if i were to lose them all, i would love to go through it all again. but i don't ever want to forget the sight of a snowflake falling on the bridge of his red-tinted nose. he was cold, i could tell, but he never mentioned it and denied it when i asked. so i wrapped my scarf around him silently. thinking about it now, it was very cheesy, but i was honored to know that he kept it on even after he was in the comfort of hinao's warm home. he never gave it back either, i hope he forgets it's mine. i like him and i like when he carries something of mine.

December 30th,

every time he sits beside me, he goes tense and quiet. but when he's with hakuri, things are more natural. does he even know i dream about him? ahhh!! that's probably it. at least.. maybe he doesn't hate me?

i think i may be jealous of hakuri.

January 16th,

i dreamt about him. it was different from the rest of dreams- like, a lot different, and i feel guilty. i shouldn't be thinking about him like this. i really shouldn't, but i don't know what to do. he -

Chihiro flips through more pages, confused and uncertain. The handwriting becomes more... frustrated, they turn into scribbles, and it's hard to distinguish the letters. Like you rushed through your emotions and patience all at once.

He grips onto your journey tightly, his nails digging into the leather as he tries to find something sensible until — the most recent page, a page numbered 71.

Chihiro presses his thumb into the recycled paper material like it would help him understand you. The ink is fresh. . .

April 1,

i'm too nervous with him.

every night, every day, any time i think of him, i want to love him until he realizes that there is no one else for him.

today i dreamt about him again. about how he would sound if i pressed him into my mattress. would he be whiny? grunty? whimpery? is that even a word?? is he a crybaby —

Chihiro shuts the journal. He quickly glances away from the book with a wide, wavering gaze. He feels his mouth go dry in shock.

His once sturdy and scarred hands are shaking.

He quickly sets the journal down on the couch and stares at it as if the devil created it himself. By the skies, the sea, and the trees; he would have never seen this coming from you, too.

Chihiro is good at observation. He has his father's eyes, both figuratively and literally. He can spot shiba's hair from miles away. He can spot an off centered piece of art. But he did not see this coming.

He keeps his warm heart tucked away beneath a blade he carries around that is painted in his enemies blood. His heart has never touched another's without intention. He does not give himself easily, and he does not plan to do so without genuine commitment.

He understands what it means to lurk around someone like him. All the dangers, the coldness, and the instability of his life. His world is corrupt and dark.

He thought...you were too good for someone like him..

You, in an extraordinary way, never pushed him for anything else but to be himself.

You strive for the things you want. You're responsible and respectful and patient.

So patient that you've been waiting on him to give in to what he wants too. So, he stares at the book, silently assessing it.

Should he continue reading? Should he let his curiosity win?

Chihiro swallows quietly and picks up the book with one hand, holding it away from him as if it'll come to life and start barking at him. If he keeps reading, what will happen next? Will he be able to look you in the eye and pretend he doesn't know what you're thinking about?

Too immersed in his thoughts and worries, he doesn't hear the lights click on until he's able to see how one of his hands is clenching tightly onto his pant leg, and his body flinches slightly at being caught.

"—Chihiro?" His red eyes flint to you. There is that flicker of guilt again before it's washed away, again.

You stand by the entrance of the kitchen with a glass of water, watching him carefully. You glance to the journal in his grasp, and that guilty look suddenly makes sense. "Is that mine?"

Chihiro's gaze drops to his lap as he sets the journal down beside him.

You catch the initials 'C.R.' carved into the binder.

Chihiro Rokuhira.

The journal you created for him alone.

"Oh." You make a pathetic noise lost between a squeak and a huff. "I see..."

There's a tight grip inside of your throat clawing at your esophagus to keep you from throwing up and blurring in your vision as your eyes glaze over with a thin layer of water.

Oh, this can not begin to describe embarrassment.

Your face burns terribly the more you think of it. All those times where you've written your wet dreams in hopes of pushing out your sexual frustrations into something other than your palm.. the pages upon pages describing your feelings for him, the memories dating back months ago — your jealousy.

Chihiro awkwardly shuffles to his feet, covering his shaky hands by clenching them into sweaty fists beside his stiff body. He looks up at you through fluttering lashes before his gaze drops to the floor just as quickly as the glance comes.

A guilty pang thumps at your chest, eyes softening at his struggles.

He's uncomfortable.

You clear your throat and drink the remaining water in your glass cup to rid yourself of the dryness in your mouth, "..S-sorry about that.. I never meant for you to read that.."

In the history of relationships, ever, from when the first humans decided to get together, bang it on, and move onto the next (or whatever goes on in relationships) — there has never been someone who's felt quite as lonely and starved for affection while standing in the same room as their lover as you do.

Or maybe you were just being dramatic.

But he didn't look at you. He stared down at the floorboards, tracing the pattern of wood in his head until it burned behind his eyelids.

He didn't step closer to comfort you like he would've done with anyone else.

He didn't even move as you watched him carefully, a look akin to desperation crossing your features as you hoped he would tell you that he didn't hate what he read.

Please don't be weirded out. . .

Chihiro lets out an air from his nostrils, not quite a sigh, something akin to a laugh and breathes deeply. You watch as he inhales calmly, his fingers finally relaxing at his sides, his knuckles regaining their tan color.

"No, [Name]. I'd like to apologize." Chihiro says. He speaks in a quiet voice. The rumble in his chest no more. It was replaced with a delicate whisper reserved for you alone. "I'm sorry for invading your privacy. I. . . I got curious at the potential of this being written about me. I wanted to know your thoughts and feelings for so long that. . . it didn't matter how I found out. If I had been more upfront with you, you wouldn't have had to suffer all on your own."

You opened your mouth to butt in. However, Chihiro continues.

"But -" He lets out a shaky breath and takes a step back, retracting into himself. He hides in himself again as he tries to find the carefully crafted words he's known for, but that's not what you wanted. You want to scream at him and shake him around until he finally understands that you just want him to be. Without limits or restraint. "But I'm a coward when it comes to you, [Name]."

You gulp and set down the glass on the coffee table by his feet. "How come?"

Chihiro nearly flinches at your question. Like he didn't expect the genuine curiosity in your tone. He raises his head to look at you — your face begged for sleep, but your eyes screamed at him to continue.

"Because I was too afraid to hear them from you; yourself." He is a coward. He's afraid of you and your emotions.

You're wonderful — "It's different with you," — You're special — "It's a little overwhelming." — But I don't hate it.

He presses his fingers together to feel warm again. To shake off the numbness his body has collected over the years of his youthful life.

"Someone like me shouldn't bring you down in my hardships and errors -" Chihiro said, "I tried to distance myself, but I realized that I kept sticking to you in my own selfish ways. And I still want to know about you even when I'm afraid because I will continue to lay my sword and duties aside to have just a second with you."

The room fell quiet except for the heavy exhale you released, your chest rising and falling in a steady motion. He could hear the bed creaking as someone toss and turned around in their bed. He thinks it could've been Char. Or maybe Mr. Shiba...

You watch him with wide eyes, a deep burning taking over your body and shooting down to the very place you prayed for the gods to ignore.

And then, your shift your hips to make the pitching tent less noticeable, but in the still room, there's no denying that Chihiro has spotted it.

His gaze drops to your crotch, his eyes widening by a fraction.

Damn it. . .

You cleared your throat, "Sh-shoot, sorry- I've, I never thought you'd break - I knew what I was getting into when I chose you - I think I need the bathroom —"

"— Let me take care of it." Chihiro cuts in. His own eyes widen at his words before he plays it off by walking closer to you — a newfound glimmer of determination in his eyes. Like he was ready to prove himself.

What.

". . .What?" You smile sheepishly, "What do you mean?"

He steps in front of you with a small tick in his brow. He doesn't know what he's talking about. He glances to the side as the tips of his ears burn a harsh red, "I want. . . to do the things you dream about. I want to prove to you that I can do better."

"This," you take a half-step back to give yourself some space and bring your hands to your lap to provide some coverage. The soft feel of your sweatpants felt tight now. Too tight at his offer. "This is no way to prove it — you can start by.. by just being yourself."

Chihiro frowns lightly at your soft argument, his fight dying just a little because to him, you said no, and he will respect that. "I need a bath. I'll be right back -" You said that, but you still find yourself in the same room with him and the urge to lunge at him with desire. Chihiro shakes his head softly, "No, you don't have to. Let's head to bed together. Can I stay with you?"

(In Chihiro language, this translates as 'I like how you smell, don't wash it off')

You pause, "You want to go to sleep? With me like this?"

Chihiro tried his hardest not to glance downwards, and he repeats his earlier request, "It's not a bother to me. . . I can take care of it."

You make a small defensive noise. Absolutely not. Nonono, this is just a wicked dream. One that hangs your desires right into front of you with a cruel smile.

"Chihiro-" He blinks and waits for you to continue, but your argument dies out. There is no way this is real, right? "... Are you serious?"

You'd be stupid to pass up an opportunity like this.

Dumb, and desperate. That is all you. Needy and clingy. It is also you. So when he says he'll 'take care of it', potentially jerk you off for your pleasure. . . you made your brain forget how to speak.

You don't know the sensations. It's always in the back of your head, but you do not know how it really feels to be touched by another— "I am." Chihiro defends his statement with determination, his eyes twinkling lightly. "...I think about you, too."

"I-" You gulp thickly as your face heats up terribly, "I should wash myself beforehand-"

You're sweaty, bacteria accumulating over your body through hours of sleep but Chihiro likes it. He shakes his head again, "I don't mind it. It's normal..."

"Uhm," You start.

"There will be another time, [Name]." Chihiro finishes with a straight face. like he's reassuring you about not smelling good(???). He steps up with a silent flinch - battle scars are probably ten times better than embarrassment of stumbling around in a moment you've been dreaming of, you think. "Would you... like to do it with me, too?"

You didn't expect him to be so bold.

Or maybe you've blinded yourself.

You gave a jerky nod.

"Yes."

. . .

"Hnng.." You groan in a pathetic way, mouth dropping as your thighs shake around his shoulders. Despite the tremors overtaking your body, you push through to roll your hips deeper into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat, knees sinking into the couch as you hold your hips over his face; your presence pinning him down to the couch.

The back of his head softly hits the cushion as you repeatedly thrust back inside the warm cave of his slimy mouth. Gosh... He's producing so much drool for someone lying on their back..

"So warm haahhh-"

Your shaky fingers thread through his sweat damped dark hair to lift his head just right for him to swallow you whole, his teeth lightly grazing around you in the effort of keeping his jaw loose, "Watch your teeth, 'Hiro. Soften your tongue— yeah, just like that.."

He did it like it was a mission. And all that mattered was that he helped you complete yourself, quote on quote "I'll give you everything you want."

Chihiro — oh, he was so good. So limp beneath you and yet trying so hard to give you something worth of your memory.

He opens his teary eyes to take in the sight of your pleased smile, a dazed look in your eyes as watch him.

You're pleased.

You're feeling good.

Chihiro feels a warmness in his chest, his heart slamming wildly in his chest to recover from it all.

Your thumb slides down from his scalp to meet his scar. You feel the wet liquid of his sweat lining up at his temple as you wipe it away and Chihiro whines.

A low and rumbling noise from an action he thought to be incredibly sweet.

It's a pleasuring vibration that purrs against your wet cock and makes you suck in a sharp breath.

Then, you hear a small gargle, and Chihiro's chest starts to jerk up with the pressure inside his throat, the walls of his throat convulsing wildly around you and squeezing, his eyes shut tight to stop the tears from leaking. You panic and pull out, the tip of your hard, pulsing cock pressed against his chin as he recovers with a cough, his drool trailing down his lips and sticking to his chin as he swallowed heavily — an empty feeling in his throat. "Ack-"

He reaches out to touch his lips, like his mouth has fallen numb, and he has no clue what to do about it.

"Are you okay??" You panic, hands trembling as you press them against his heated up face. His head pounds with the smell of you, and he can't resist the shiver that runs down his spine.

"Yes... keep going." Chihiro murmurs more to himself, a small huff of desperation leaving his tingling lips before he grips at your hips and guides you back inside, his tongue lolling out to welcome you in again.

Your eyes widen at the new feeling.

His throat is pulsing.

His eyes are hungry.

His tongue slid messily, inexperienced, against the underside of your cock.

"Ngh.." You moan quietly. You tilt your head as you thought about how he seems too eager to please you, your hands instinctively gripping at his hair as he silently lays on his back.

His face is hidden beneath your hips, ears flushed red, and his fingers are clenched around your body loosely. His figure is tensed to the fullest degree. You're not sure you've ever seen someone as stiff as him before.

He keeps you buried inside his throat until the tip of his nose is buried in your pubes. He exhales and inhales sharply through his nostrils, humming quietly as he releases his hold on your hips to let you take what you want.

"A-ah.. you're the prettiest thing ever -" It slipped out before you could stop it. His eyes widened at your words. The living room is heated with the smell of sex and the echo of his saliva being pushed back into his throat as you push yourself to the very end to hit every inch of gummy walls. "Dreams disappoint against the real thing. Against you. You have no idea how I've been wishing for this. On your knees, in the bed, riding me - Chihiro, I want you in every sense and in every way -"

When you pull out abruptly, your hands are quick to shoot out to apply pressure on his jaw to keep his mouth wide open with no problem, "I'll cum if you keep this up- ughhh, your lips are so soft-" your thumb slids to his mouth to run over his pink lips gently, "your tongue is so wet, your face is so cute- I love you so much, Chihiro, yes, I do."

Chihiro's hips jump.

An involuntary twitch.

A defiance of his own control over his body. A reaction he can't help.

And he liked it.

Your thumb pushes into his mouth, pressing down on his slimy tongue as drool starts to accumulate around it. You meet Chihiro's wavering gaze. His wide, red eyes shine as they stare up at your curiously. He doesn't move, surely doesn't even think of moving either...

"You like getting your throat bruised?" Chihiro's breathing hitches sharply at your teasing muse. You're not even talking directly at him, more so, cooing at him like a cute kitty on the street.. but he didn't mind it.

In fact, his mouth falls shut, your thumb trapped between his lips as he sucks on it gingerly. That's a yes. At his confirmation, you remove your hand off of his scalp to wrap your fingers around yourself — cock glistening in his saliva and your precome. . .

Your hand moves frantically over his face, hips thrusting into your warm palm as you jerked yourself off over him. Chihiro pressed his thighs together as he felt sticky liquid drip onto his cheek.

"Mff-" He swallows with your thumb still in his mouth. You push it further in as his face begins to contort, and his trembling thighs squeeze shut again.

You noticed this time.

How his hips tremor just the slightest bit underneath your weight, his dark pants hiding his desire...

"Hah- you're so cute," you say, voice low with affection. "I'm gonna come on your face, 'Hiro."

Your breathing starts to quicken, and your balls go taut against his chin as you pointedly press the head of your cock into his cheek, a loud muffled groan leaving you as you bite your lip harshly to quiet yourself.

Spurts of white come coat his face, his eyes squeezing shut immediately when a droplet strikes his brow with short puffs of air escaping his nostrils in surprise.

You smear your twitching cock against his cheek as he swallowed thickly around your thumb, you pull your hand away from his mouth to brace yourself against the arm rest his head laid on, chest rising rapidly and thumb wet with his drool. His lips parts so his tongue could dart out to lap at you again.

You wince and your hips twitch back, barely having enough time to think of recovering. "One second, Chihiro."

He slowly peeks an eye open, the heavy feeling of something warm on his eyelid weighing the other one down.

His cheek squished up against your cock as you meet his eyes.

It's a sight that would have had you hung in hell.

His father would probably drag you off of him and demand you never touch his 'innocent' Chihiro again. His father would conduct a baptism and an exchange of bands between the two of you before you go any further — or not, you never met him but from Chihiro's words, he seemed like he loved his son.

Regardless, your semen clinging on his handsome face; it was a holy sight.

You lean back with a heavy sigh before getting off from atop of his face on shaky legs. You could feel his eyes on you, watching for any discomfort — "... Are you okay?" He asks with a wavering expression, his voice is hoarse and thick with something that sounded a lot like need.

You huff heavily and send him a dazed smirk that leaves him red. "Better than okay."

He gave a small nod.

His expression is unreadable, but the air around him feels... charged.

He wants to ask something. You can see it in his gaze. It's written all over his glassy eyes. You settled closer to him until you were kneeling timidly on the couch cushions in between his legs.

Chihiro lifts his upper body to prop himself on his elbows, his head spinning and throat bobbing as he swallows around nothing.

Whatever it is that he wants to say, he doesn't speak it, and you glance down, disappointed.

You thought — immaturity running through your head — that he would at least feel a little. . . need for you.

That he wanted you to show him what you've dreamt about. To make him an experience and an experiment.

The thought leaves your eyes teary and exposed to the cold air chipping at your sweaty skin. Your, previously half hard, cock twitches as it softens against your stomach.

A small nudge against your thigh makes your racing mind hit the breaks.

Chihiro pushes the bottom of his shoe into your clothed front of your thigh. His eyes begin to soften when your gaze flickers to him.

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. He knew you were getting too deep into your thoughts and he pulled you out before you could spiral.

He cares.

He knows you.

He sees all of you. Him reading your diary, probably, helped too.

You place your hands on his thighs, keeping his legs spread apart as you place your body between them. The smooth material of his black slacks makes a soft noise against the warmth of your palms. You rub at his inner thighs to hear the satisfying sound again.

Your touch on his inner thighs was electric. Claiming, almost. To him, at least.

He leans back into the sofa's armrest to cross his arms over his chest, a blockage (a denial really) of his desire, suddenly finding the sticky substance on his face far more interesting.

"Does your throat hurt?" You asked softly, eyeing the way his throat swallows as he wipes at his face.

"Nothing I can't handle." See. There it is. A closure you can never get from him — his true feelings are still calculated. Hidden.

But it's strange.

Because you also understand why.

He wasn't given the safety to process and release his emotions. He didn't have the time right now, so he shuts it off to quickly keep some composure.

You understand because you do the same when he gets like this.

But it's tiring.

Emotions are made to be complicated when they don't have to be, so you force yourself to ignore the burning embarrassment of your face and neck to lean your upper body above his chest- his body jolts slightly and he removes his hands from his face, your semen no longer coating his pretty features- "You did so well, Chihiro. Thank you."

You nuzzle your nose against his collarbone to maybe seek the smell of arousal if you can't see it in his eyes.

His pecs twitch in surprise as you tilt your head far enough to press your lips to his collarbone, "A-ah?"

You still, bitten lips from your own teeth pressed against his skin.

Was that a bad or good sound?

You could feel every pulse of his blood and flutter of his heart beating alive inside of him.

You could hear the change in his breathing — slower, heavier..

He's trying to regulate his heart rate.

"No." Your stern denial makes his heart jump beneath your tingling lips, "Just relax. Feel it all. I want you to feel."

His throat works to force another swallow done. From this distance, you can see how his jaw clenches, and you can hear the slight grit of his teeth.

You press yourself even closer, your lips trailing repetitive pecks over his neck without thinking. Kisses so sensual — so heated that Chihiro can't help his instinct to melt underneath them all.

"Nnh. . .'' Most of his weight falls onto the armrest as he begins to fall limp, his lips parting in a huff. A huff that sounds...

Was that a whine?

It was quiet. Soft. Expected from his voice but not expected from him.

You slow your kisses this time. The sound of the tame suctions from your mouth nipping against his skin filling his ear drums.

It sounded considerably louder since you worked long, slow kiss from his clavicle bone up his throat, his hips rolling slightly into your hips when you stopped to leave a lingering kiss on his Adam's apple and he gasps.

A startled gasp at the feeling.

You grind back down against his hips, groaning into his neck as you feel a stiff bulge press back by pure instinct. He's hard.

He's actually turned on by this (hopefully by you too..)!!

You smile against his skin, teeth shining with drool as you part them to let your tongue loll out against his skin.

Just a taste. . .

"It- [Name].." Your eyes flutter open at his shaky call. "Slow down please.."

Slower?

"Hm?" You hum for more clarification at his request. The noise brings vibrations down his bones that make him shake with nerves.

This is slow. . .?

His pulse jumps under your paused tongue. He can feel your shiver as you glide your wet muscle against his adam's apple subconsciously, like you couldn't control the need to do so.

Chihiro's body resists a shudder at the feeling.

"Ah... I'm not sure how to react?" He says in a shaky voice.

You pull away from him, your lips wet with your own saliva. Your eyes meet as you hover above him, your hips slotting perfectly against his, "I just want you to let yourself feel it, 'hiro... Can you tell me how my hands feel?"

You let one hand slip beneath his shirt while your other arm held you up. Your palms — warm and... simply warm make goosebumps raise over Chihiro's body as if the cold had touched him.

Chihiro nods firmly and glances down at your hand. Your grip feels possessive in the way you caress his hip. But he only knows how to describe the ache in his chest that brings him comfort along with your touch; "Warm."

It feels strangely intimate in how your thumbs start to rub circles into his skin, "It tickles..."

"Yeah?" You smile tenderly at him, your eyes soft and pupils blown wide to the point of total darkness. "You feel.. hot. Very hot to the touch. Your muscles are tense, but I can also feel your heart beating."

Chihiro swallows nervously. His eyes flutter shut when your hand reaches his waist, tracing over his muscles to soothe him.

His knees press together before he lets them relax and fall apart from each other as if he isn't sure if he wants to close himself off and open himself whole.

You watch as his shoulders pull up into himself, like he wants to shrink away from your touch, but he back arches to have more..

"Why are you always so tense.." You finally ask quietly. Your voice is soft and undeniably confused. "Do you- ... do you want this?"

His head turns to hide into his own shoulder, his nose scrunching up at your question. "I do."

"Then, please relax," you whisper in a plea. Maybe it came from deep down inside because he never has been with you — not really. but you also wanted him to feel good.

Chihiro makes a noise crossed between a soulful sigh and an adorable 'hmph', "I can't-"

"Why not?" You emphasize with a sigh. Your hand stops as you lean back on your heels, giving him enough space to leave if he wants to.

"..." Chihiro adjusts himself to lay further down on the couch, sprawling out with his hands pressing down on his lap to give himself some decency from your prying eyes. "I like it and I don't know how to take it."

"Oh." You exclaim dumbly. Your lips open and close as you wait for words to just spill out of your mouth to no avail. "I, uhm, I thought you- that maybe you didn't like me?"

Chihiro frowns lightly, "I don't have the time to waste.."

Ouch. That stung you. So maybe you were dumb for thinking that even when your conscious told you that wasn't the case..

"I feel warm with you-" That was his way of saying 'I like you', "Sometimes too hot that.. I can't keep myself relaxed."

You stare at him, dumbfounded.

"Oh." You exclaimed once more. He stares up at you with a slow rising smirk — it's tiny and practically nonexistent, but with his feelings hidden behind a stoic expression, it's easy to spot. "You- you're.."

He waits patiently.

"You're so-" You take a deep breath to think of a word to describe him. Why.. why is he just watching you fumble around? Does he like you like this?? "-rational?"

Chihiro tilts his head.

"You know how to control yourself very well, and you know what to say and do to make me nervous and sweaty and ticklish all over that I almost want to hate you," You groan out as you let yourself fall limp on top of him. Chihiro grunts quietly when the air is pushed out of his chest, but he welcomes your weight. "I wanted to make you feel the same that I bottled my feelings to keep you close but all this time.. you were doing the same."

He just hid it better...

His hands drift from covering his lap to slipping around your waist, his warm calloused hands tethering between the fabric of your shirt and your shivering skin.

This talk didn't simmer down your body's natural response to being on top of your cute boyfriend. And it betrays you by slowly rolling your hips down onto his, his body tensing again but this time, you know why.

Because he likes it.

His grip tightens on your waist as he stuffs his face in the crook of your neck, his forehead feeling overwhelmingly feverish when it meets your skin.

He pushes back to reciprocate the feeling, his cock jumping in the restraints of his dark trousers. He grinds experimentally upwards to meet the same friction you gave him with a small gasp of air, his ribs expanding as he sucks his breath in, his abdomen going taut.

"A-ah," Chihiro grunts softly, the sound is so soft and shocked. He got a taste of it before, but now.. now it felt stronger. He lifts his hips up again with knitted brows, confused in how he should feel.

When you thrust down again to meet him, a whine tumbles past his bitten lips. He licks at his lips to wet them, tongue coated with the taste of you.

You moan at the sound of his pleasure, ears tingling to hear more. He's whiny.. he's really whiny.

That answers the question in your dreams and your journal.

Without wasting much time, you shuffle around to push your sweatpants out of the way, just enough for your cock to pop out and slap against your stomach, your fingers fumbling around to purchase the button of his pant, pausing to ask him a silent question; do you want these off?

And Chihiro gives you a firm nod.

You get to work. His hips lifting up higher to help you pull his pants off, momentarily stilling when you reach his shoes.

... They're staying on.

You smile with giddiness at the thought of his shoe prints on the couch the following morning.

You shove his sweater off of him, his coat pooling beneath him as the rest of his clothes disappeared, excluding his socks and shoes. Chihiro flushes deeply, his eyes darting away to the side.

You take him in.

Chihiro; strong and sentimental, quiet and kind-hearted — his body is just as beautiful as his soul. Strong and sturdy, trembling with a hint of vulnerability, covered in scars from late night practices.

"You're a treasure, Chihiro," you whisper softly as your warm hands caress his sides, thumbs carelessly flicking over his nipples, watching in awe as he shudders.

Chihiro bites his tongue and stays as still as he can for you.

It felt incredibly intimate.

To be beneath you in the full nude...

His face tinted red, and his eyes shaky as he waited for you to make the next move. But you just kept looking at him as if he were something precious. Someone to adore and hold.

Chihiro never thought of himself that way.

If someone were to ask him, 'Who's the most important person to you?', he would give his father's name. 'Dad is.'

He wouldn't have considered himself.

But you always have.

You tell him and you show him and he's afraid of it but he wants it so bad. .

He feels a strange sting in the back of his eye, burning and messing with his emotions.

Like the burning sensation of tears he's suppressed when he thinks of good things, things that could be good, things that could have had a future.. and he believes you could have a future with him too..

It's intimate and strangely confusing how he finds this more emotional than anything..

Chihiro's eyes meet yours briefly, a complex mix of emotions swirling in those red irises of his—pain, pleasure, affection, reluctance, confusion...

Tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he feels an inexplicable connection forming between you two in the mix of this opening and humiliating act.

"Can I turn around?" He asks politely. He wants to hide his face. He wants to hide his tears from you so that you won't worry.

You nod and lean back to give him space for him to reposition himself onto his stomach, his face pressing into the couches' pillow. The only thing on his face you could see is the edge of his ragged scar peaking near his hairline and the crinkles around the corners of his eyes as he shuts them tight.

Your hips lean down to press your cock in between his thighs.

His hands clench tightly into the cushions, knuckles white as he tries to maintain some semblance of control, "Ngh..."

"Wha-" you stop yourself with a swallow. What do you do now? In the videos you've seen, they just stick it in. Do you stick it in?

As you stare holes in Chihiro's back, your hands adjust his legs to give you enough space to loom over him, your cock poking against his backside.

"Um, I'm- I'm going in." You mutter, raising a brow at your own sentence before aligning the head of your cock blindly, not even bothering to spread his legs further apart to see what you're doing.

Chihiro gives a nod, face hidden in the sheets.

Your mouth falls open in an 'o' shape as you push in. He's tight. Chihiro immediately tenses, clenching down shut and stopping you from pushing any further. Not realizing it could be hurting him, you try to push past the rim again, only for his breath to hitch in the effort.

He reaches behind him to hold onto your wrist that settles on his waist, his nails digging into your pulse.

Chihiro flinches when you keep trying to push inside of him, barely even getting an inch in before a shaky cry leaves his throat. It's muffled by the pillow, but you still catch onto it.

You freeze, eyes wide, as you wait for his response or reaction.

"That... hurts." He finally grits out. He wants it. He does. But it hurts. Is it supposed to hurt? Is that right?

"Oh, I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to -" You rush to pull out, wincing when he whimpers at the dry extraction. "I don't know - I've never done this with a man - or.. anyone, give me another chance -"

Chihiro lets go of your wrist and spreads his legs wider, nearly pushing his leg off of the small couch, which makes you hold onto the front of his thigh to keep him steady. His shoe catches onto the fabric of the couch, holding his foot at an awkward angle.

A shaky laugh, that sounds more like a quiet pained sob, escapes him.

Your heart clenches at the sound.

It must've hurt badly. . .

"I'm sorry, Chihiro." You lean down to pepper soft kisses to his shoulder blade, squeezing his thigh gently to comfort him. "I wish I had the experience to make love to you properly, but I am learning, please, will you give me another shot?"

His upper body leans into your kisses, his chuckle dying out with each meaningful touch of your lips.

"Yes." He nods once, turning his head to the side to breathe properly. His cheek is pressed against the pillow as his eyes land on Enten by the coffee table.

"Thank you." You whisper in gratitude as you press a kiss against his nape. "I won't disappoint."

You never do — Chihiro wants to say, but his tongue doesn't want to work with him when your hand leaves the support on his thigh, making his leg shoot down to hold himself up. The sound of the bottom of his leather dress shoe tapping the floorboards ring in his ear as a reminder that he should keep quiet in Hinao's home.

You open his cheeks to use your thumb to gently soothe the irritated muscle, your heart clenching at his sigh, not quite desperate but needy enough to want more of your gentle touches, "I've heard that it could hurt, but only for women, but... I may have an idea? I know that... women do it to help make the process smoother."

"But I'm not a woman...?" Chihiro questions, tilting his head as he listens to you.

"I mean-" you shake your head, dumbly staring at his anus, the pink muscle is a tight ring that will probably be extremely uncomfortable for him if you push in your finger without warning, "I know that, just that.. I need to loosen you."

"Loosen?" Chihiro asks curiously, his face back in the pillow.

"They-" lubricate, obviously self, bodily fluids that come out when stimulated. See, you did pay attention in Sex Education in Middle School. Men don't produce that... "Play enough to make themselves wider and... more comfortable?"

You gulp as you explain.

"I've seen them in some magazines.." You try to explain yourself, not knowing how bad that sounds to Chihiro. Chihiro frowns and nods into the pillow, making a mental note to look even deeper in your room to find any magazine so that he can slice them up.

At his approval, you lean down and purse your lips over his hole, letting an accumulation of your drool and spit slide out of your lips. When the first drip of your warm saliva hits the rim and slides downwards, Chihiro shivers and pushes his face deeper into the pillow.

You prop his hips higher into the air, his knees scrambling to hold himself up. In the shift, his shoe scraps against your sweatpants, and he puffs out a sigh.

"I'm going to use my fingers, okay?" You warned him meekly, your voice cracking slightly as you realize that you're actually about to do this.

His ears burn red, "Go on."

Should I touch him some more beforehand? You second guess yourself. You glance down at your dominant hand. Which finger do I use? The middle finger is the longest.. will he like that?

You measure the size of your cock with your fingers and decided to go for the middle finger, just to be safe...

The tip of your finger catches onto his spit slicked hole, and his body automatically stiffens, his toes curling in his shoes, "Try to relax, hiro.. can you do that for me?"

He sucks in a sharp breath through his nostrils when your middle finger tentatively rubs at the rim.

"I'm trying...'' he whispers softly, tears appearing from the corners of his eyes and soaking the pillow.

He tries desperately to obey your words, forcing his rigid muscles to relax as you push your finger deeper inside him. He lets out a shuddering breath, his face flushing dark red with the humiliation of being fingered open using your spit.

Your finger breaches his entrance, the slickness of your spit making the slide smooth and humiliating. It's not as smooth as you would've thought, but it's what you had on hand at the moment.

"Very good, Chihiro." You encourage softly and lean your chest against his back, your hard cock pressing against the back of his thigh, breath hitching when his hips involuntarily buck backwards onto your finger at your praise. "You're taking it very well..."

His cock bobs pathetically between his legs, gravity pulling his testicles down and weighing them heavier than usual, the exposure to the cold air has his cock glistening and ultra-sensitive.

"Almost there, handsome.." Your mouth falls open as you watch with hawk eye vision. The tip of your finger disappears inside of him, his insides feel warm and fluttering, and you slowly sink the rest until your knuckle reaches the rim, the rest of your fingers wiggling almost like they know they're next. A soft moan leaves your lips at the feeling.

If it feels this good and interesting around your finger... you can't wait until you can stick yourself inside..

"Mnn-" Chihiro cuts himself off in the middle of an almost silent whine. His heart is beating too loudly in his ears that he could hardly hear the noise.

You reach in between his trembling thighs to wrap your fingers around his cock.

Chihiro's breath comes in ragged gasps against the pillow, muffling any noise he can't quite suppress. His hands claw weakly at the cushions, fingers twisting the fabric as your fingers grip him tightly.

"Ah—!" The sound escapes before he can stop it. He bites down on the pillow, muffled and desperate. His leg twitches, shoes catching on your sweatpants.

His body stiffens abruptly as you peel back the foreskin of his uncircumcised cock, revealing the sensitive, pink glans beneath. Every instinct screams at him to fight and to squirm away, but he tells himself to stay still and to just feel it as you wanted.

"My body is tingling -" you describe to him, "I want you so bad, Chihiro. Your cock feels so hot and hard to the touch and your insides, God, you keep clenching back. It almost feels like a heartbeat.."

His hole clenches desperately around your finger as you push your finger in deeper and then pull it out, his cock throbbing desperately in your other hand, raw and exposed with his foreskin pulled back, precum begins to leak down the cushions.

"Feels good?" You mused, cocky.

It shocks Chihiro that you could turn into such a person in bed. He would've never expected it. Never. But... he's not complaining. He quite likes you confident.

"Good..." He mouths, the word barely coherent behind the pillow.

Chihiro shuts his eyes tightly, his body clenching around your finger as you wiggle it inside him to gradually spread him open. His cock twitches weakly again, leaking a small amount of precum. His back back arches into the couch, and his hips lift higher into the air — onto your finger — as you simultaneously pump the tip of his cock, squeezing and pinching the foreskin together soothingly, and curl your finger downwards.

His left hand shoots down to grip at the hand around his cock.

His dominant hand claws desperately at your wrist, trying to pull your hand away, only to grip it tighter a moment later. His thighs fall open wider, and his spine arches into the couch as he pushes back against your fingers in tiny, jerking motions.

You chuckle, grinning wickedly at the sight. The sound vibrates through the quiet living room. It makes him whimper pathetically, his skin overheated by the compromising position.

He can feel your finger curling inside of him, as if you were inspecting the inside of him home.

His thighs shake, unable to hold his own body weight. Why? He's fought for hours on end, starved himself, broke bones in his body, and pushed himself for much longer than this and his body seems to be responding to you shamelessly.

His hand goes limp, and with him no longer holding your wrist, you were able to stroke him in the same way you'd do to yourself when you thought of him; the constant wet noises coming from his cock made him want to hide away with shame but he still bucked helplessly into your hand.

You decide it to be time for the second finger.

His body tenses, the stretch sharper now. The pillow muffles his choked-off gasp as you work a second finger alongside the first, scissoring slowly, patiently. His thighs tremble around your wrist. "S-slow—"

His hole is spreading open around your fingers like he's trying to swallow it whole. And then, your finger curls just right, and his entire body seizes up. "Ah!"

"Ah.." Your grin deepens, "Found the spot?"

Judging by his trembling thighs and the little bundle of nerves pulsating underneath the pad of your finger, you were certain of it.

His hips shift slightly, pushing up against your fingers, seeking more friction.

"More," he whimpers into the pillow, voice muffled and broken.

"More?" You ask with a teasing lilt in your tone. "Do you want more fingers? Or something else? Something bigger? Hotter?"

His breath hitches at the whispered tease, instinctively pushing back against your cock resting on the back of his thigh.

Do you think he's ready?

"It won't hurt, correct?" Innocently asked Chihiro, not understanding why your cock twitches by his leg, "You've spread me well enough?"

You wiggled your fingers inside, scissoring them open for you to watch his cute hole flutter and suck them back in. "I think so."

He trusts you immediately, "Okay.."

You tug his shoulder back lightly like a baby asking for more milk, your fingers popping out of him and letting go of his cock, "I wanna see your face.."

Never one to deny you (and maybe a little tired of carrying his weight), Chihiro immediately shifts onto his back, the position making him feel safer and less afraid of slipping off.

When your [color] eyes catch his, his body calapses into the couch with a confusingly relieved expression. His muscles melt and force his body to go limp at your mercy, his knees spreading wider for more of your ministrations.

His hole flutters shut to soothe the slight sting of not having anything inside. You're really doing this with him. . .

"Please be gentle.." He requests. His voice is strained, that rough edge of his usual calm disappearing into something breathless.

You nod frantically, "Always."

He nods back. A signal to insert yourself.

His arms wrap around your neck to bring you flush to him.

"Thanks for understanding," He utters, his fingers brush against your lips, gentle and caring.

He's grateful for you.

He's gateful that you understood him even when he failed to notify you of these habits of his. He's over the moon that you like him, that you love him, and it was him that got to be loved by you.

Your hand gently cradles his head, lovingly, in a way that makes Chihiro make a noise of appreciation, as you lined your sticky, hard cock up to his puckering hole. You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, giving him such gentle kisses to prepare your cute boyfriend for what's to come, now lined up to his rear.

Your eyes were dark and surprisingly intense, your usual gentle and awkward nature shifting into an effortlessly endearing cocky charm.

You pushed forward slowly, the thick head pressing against his hole.

His rim spasms around the intrusion, his body trembling violently from the intense breach.

Chihiro's body trembles at the sudden stretching, his fingers clawing into your shirt as he burries an embarrassed cry against the fabric.

"Breathe in," you tell him quietly. When you feel him sucking in air, his spongy walls squeezing around you with the expansion of his lungs was the biggest telltale sign for you, your hips push deeper inside, "breath out.." Chihiro exhales sharply as you bottom out, the stretch burning but feeling strangely full in a way that makes his cock twitch strongly. His hips begin to wither forward, his sensitivity reaching its peak when you rub circles into his hip with your thumb.

His face was buried in your neck, his breathing ragged as he waited for the rest of the impact.

It's not as tight as last time. . .

Feels.. much better, more spongy...

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, one hand still cradling his head tenderly while the other gripped his hip tightly, "Okay?"

He hissed in satisfaction as you throbbed inside of him, rocking deeper with a slow, steady thrust.

"H-hot.." He pants out, word muffled into your shoulder.

Hot?

"What is?" You asked breathlessly. A feeling of worry crawls into your heart and yanks at your soul. Is it supposed to be a good hot or a bad hot?

Chihiro opens his mouth, his tongue darting out to wet his lip, unintentionally lapping at your neck with the motion. "My body.. is hot as is your.. your p-penis."

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh at the shy way he uttered 'penis'.

"Yeah..." You agree, nodding and cradling his head further into your neck, "just means I really needed you..."

"Ah..." Chihiro voices. His legs shake with pleasure in ways that fear could never possess. He feels himself relaxed around you as he lets out an exhale, his eyes fluttering open as he stares at the ceiling. "I'm ready. I'm sure of it."

His hips stutter insistently, back arching into you for more warmth, more weight — more of you.

I'm not — you argue mentally, taking a deep breath before hissing in satisfaction at the way he tightens up.

You pant, ragged and done for. You know you're not going to last, oh god.

"Argh.." You try to voice out as you gave a jerky thrust. Your body jolts, and your thigh muscles stiffen. "You're so hah warm."

Chihiro makes a 'mmn' noise, something between a hum of acknowledgment and a sound of embarrassment. He pushes his face further into your neck and his hands tug at your shirt to make you move.

You take the hint once he tugs, and you hear the stitches of your shirt tearing in the silent living room. With a shaky breath, you pick up your trembling hips to grind inside of him, groaning loudly when he instinctively clenches down on you, his hold on your shirt tightening.

His hips twitched helplessly beneath you, trying to buck up away from the sudden fullness but held back by the weight of your body. He holds his breath as he feels your heated, pulsing cock stretch him open completely.

You grunt when he holds his breath, feeling his insides cling onto you with the motion.

But you persist, suddenly thrusting again.

"Ah!" He cried out against your shoulders, sending a shockwave of pleasure through his entire body. Oh. It felt good to let his voice out...

The sudden, brutal sensation made his entire body lock up, muscles straining as he struggled to stay silent in Hinao's home.

You grinned mischievously, squeezing your eyes shut as you rolled deeper. One, two, three times — eliciting three choked whimpers against your shoulder for each thrust.

"Yeah? I'm making you open up pretty wide for me, huh?" Your voice dropped low. Chihiro was losing his mind beneath you, your words making him grind down onto your cock, finally able to form a thought. Your thick head poked and prods his walls. It feels like a constant pull that yanks at his stomach, tugging it lower and lower.

He bit your shoulder so hard it hurt, his hips bucking wildly now, chasing that brutal pleasure as you ground deeper inside. He was mindless. Lost. Swimming in the sensation. "Yeah..."

His hips jerk downwards, burying your cock even deeper inside of him.

The sharp poke against his lower belly made his breath hitch. That was... that was hitting something deep, something that you hit when you used your fingers on him earlier. His walls clenched involuntarily as his back arched slightly.

Chihiro's expression is a perfect picture of pure, agony, and desperate need. His eyes are squeezed shut, tears leaking out the corners as he bites down on his tongue to keep from whining out loud. His thighs are trembling above your thighs, his hole gaping around your throbbing cock.

The sight of the usually stoic and tense man, now vulnerable and weakened, has taken your breath away.

"That's it, Chihiro. Enjoy my cock.." You say with a groan as you watch his body jolt and bounce with each jerky and inexperienced thrust of your hips, "Take it all, it's all yours. Just for you..."

The praise makes him shiver, his body arching up into yours, arms holding your tighter against him. His eyes flutter open. They're half lidded, pupil blown wide with desire, and he's trying so hard to be quiet, but every movement you make pulls tiny gasps and whimpers from his throat. "Please," he breathes out, barely more than a sigh. "Please..."

"What is it?" You rasped out.

For a moment there, he was paralyzed with the feeling of you inside with no barriers. It made his cock twitch pathetically.

"Ahh- ngh!" His words died in his throat as your hand wrapped around his twitching cock, stroking him with trembling fingers.

His hands flew to your wrists, gripping desperately as he felt your cock stretching him open — is it- did you just get bigger inside of him?? But then your finger pinches his sensitive foreskin together and he let out a broken whine, forgetting about the stretch.

You pull back to look him in the eye, smiling when he peers up at you with glassy red eyes.

Your cradling hand ruffles the back of his hair, and you tug very lightly with each thrust.

The smile you gave made his heart flutter, his cheeks heating up even more. Somehow, it felt so right in this moment - like it was all that he needed for him to finally feel his balls draw up tightly.

You moan out as you feel him squeeze you tighter, your own orgasm approaching rapidly, "You gonna cum for me?"

He presses his forehead to yours, dark lashes fluttering shut. "Mmph... mmmmm...!" He whined and nodded against your forehead, his face contorting with pure pleasure as he felt his orgasm creeping up.

His hips snapped up into your hand desperately, his cock throbbing wildly as he chased after your warm grip.

His cock, already so sensitive from being focused on the glans and foreskin, erupted messily against your stomach and hand. His face scrunches up, lips parting as he forgets how to make noise — he holds his breath.

Your hips bucked up helplessly, your cock throbbing inside you, leaking precum down the shaft. You were so close already, your thighs trembling violently under his.

You frantically pulled out your cock, his hole staying slack and gaping for a moment before slowly clenching around air when your hand left his cock to jerk off above him using his cum on yourself.

Embarrassed, he brings you closer to bury his face into your shirt.

He let out a deep, muffled exhake against your shoulder, his nose pressing deep into your sweaty skin. The sight went straight to his softening cock, making him twitch violently against nothing but the space between your bodies.

"Hah- hahhh-" Your breath is ragged as you try to speak, lost in the pleasure. "So whiny.. you're so whiny- gonna cum—"

Your entire body locked up, eyes squeezing shut as you feel an overload of electricity shocking your body and spraying all over chihiro's body. "Arghh.."

Your cock was still buried in your grasp, twitching weakly as you rode through your orgasm. You cradle his head again and whispered into his ear, your voice guttural;

"Don't hide now. Not from me," you whispered against his ear, your hand drawing out every last spasm of pleasure. "Every thought, every action, every word... they all belong to me."

Don't deny what you are and how you feel when I've accepted them, Chihiro. Don't fight it. Accept yourself.

He nods obediently, his own throat sore as he finally shakes his shoe out of the leg of your sweatpants. "I won't hide from you."

Your eyes glint with relief. Yes. Yes, you're so happy to hear that.

Your body went completely limp above him, eyes rolling back before closing. The orgasm had been too intense, too overwhelming. It was combined with the earlier orgasm, the pleasure, and the emotional turmoil. You'd finally reached your limit.

Chihiro's breathing was shallow, chest rising and falling rapidly as your heavy body melted onto his, his legs shaky as he held you tight.

. . .

The following morning, you woke up alone, but the scent of Chihiro lingers, so you don't mind. In fact, you're more than happy to cuddle into his side of the bed and stuff your flushed face into his pillow.

Then.. you freeze.

You're on a bed?

You sit upright, heart dropping to your feet.

Whose bed is this??

"[Name]." A voice calls from the corner of the room. Your eyes immediately flicker over to the voice, and a sigh of relief deflated your body.

Chihiro.

His eyes softened considerably now.

His face is also lightly flushed from memories of last night and.. he seems to be scribbling something down inside your journal, and he lays it bare of the desk.

But most importantly, his shoulders are relaxed. His posture screams open and vulnerable as he doesn't even bother to put on his shirt — the one you removed off his body last night.

"Shiba found us." He blurts out casually. He walks around the room as his scarred body twitches with aftershocks. Your eyes open wide with shock. "He scolded me about doing.. doing that on the couch, and he wants you to replace the couch."

If Chihiro was being honest, he would've mentioned how Shiba pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought of a way to teleport your body to your room without having you vomiting in your sleep because Chihiro's body was too weak and shaky to carry you himself.

You gulp, "I'll.. think about it."

Couches are expensive.

Chihiro sends you a ghost of a smile, his ears burning red as you stand up, the covers falling from your hips as you stretched.

You round the edge of the bed to meet him at the desk.

This felt strangely domestic to Chihiro. Watching as your nude body worked into a relieving stretch like you have all the time in the world, his own body shirtless and on display in his own comfort...

"Are you hungry?" He asks gently, his fingers fiddling with his belt as he fastens it. "Let me make you breakfast.."

You glance down at the desk, your journal with the initials C.R. faced up — "Okay.. don't let Char help you. She left an egg shell in my omelet yesterday."

Chihiro flexes his shoulders as he finally reaches for his sweater. "She will learn.."

When you catch a glimpse of what he wrote in your journal, your body warms up.

I think I love you too. I am struggling to truly accept it however, don't doubt that I don't want it because I truly do want to open my heart with you. I'm sorry for asking you to be patient than you have already been. I am trying.

- Chihiro.

. . .

“Giyuu, are you paying attention? I’m supposed to be teaching you right now,”

Your words barely register in Giyuu’s brain, but he nods his head dumbly anyway, shaky legs trying to push back against your fingers. “Y-yes-! So good, fuck- sir!”

Giyuu’s fingers scramble to hold on to your shirt for leverage; his thighs burn from staying upright as long as he has; his pretty little cock all red and leaking so much pre it looked like he came already. But he likes it; welcomes it, even, trying his hardest not to come and prolong this for as long as he can so you don’t leave.

“Baby, you’re not even paying attention,” you tut, two fingers deep into his cunt and pressing harshly against his prostate; you other hand grabs his long hair to pull his head back and get a good look at him. He whines, drool escaping his open mouth and he clenched around your fingers, “how’re you gonna satisfy yourself while ‘m gone, huh? You can’t even finger yourself properly.”

Even hearing you mention that week long trip you had to go on had him sobbing, babbling words of protest like he had a say in it. He clung to you, nimble fingers gripping on to your shirt as he tried to find the right words to say.

“I-it’s ’cause it doesn’t f-feel good when I do it my-self-!” and it was true. His small fingers couldn’t reach deep and hit his prostate; they weren’t thick like yours— didn’t fill him up well and stretch him good so he could take your cock.

“Aww, poor baby,” the amused tone in your voice was barely caught by Giyuu, too occupied in fucking himself against your unmoving fingers, desperate to feel that release he was trying so hard to avoid. His hips move clumsily; unsure— trying to grind his weeping little cock against you thigh at the same time. “You’re so useless, can’t do anythin’ by yourself, huh?”

Taking your fingers out of his sloppy hole, your dick twitches and strains against you jeans when he cries, fat tears falling down his flushed cheeks. His cries were delicious, little pleas of “nono, don’t stop, please,” and “want your fingers, wanna come from your fingers,” and “was close, soso close!” so slurred they were barely understandable.

You half-heartedly shush him, rubbing his back while he sobs and shudders from his ruined orgasm. Taking one of his hands, you press a quick kiss against his fingers while his eyes, foggy and clouded, stares in mild confusion.

“‘Yuu,” you address him, another kiss along his neck of new and faded marks, “you gotta do it yourself, ‘kay? You’re not allowed to come unless you finger yourself. Gotta make sure you can do it properly before I leave.”

Bruce doesn't really know what to do with himself around you. His entire life, he's believed that sexual encounters simply weren't important to him. Fun, sure, but he'd much rather spend his time down in the cave digging through cave files or fighting amongst the dark, cold streets of Gotham.

Now, he's trying to decide between a black and red slip to go along with the thong he has on before you finish whatever show has you occupied downstairs...very important decisions to be had by the most important man in all the state.

He feels like a hormonal teenager all over again, but even then, his sex drive wasn't anything like this! Bruce is reaching the age where his libido should be winding down, not up.

He sighs, holding the red garment up to his chest in the mirror. Who knew they even made these things for men his size? Bruce supposes he's relieved, having to shop in an actual woman's section would kill a bit more of his ego than he'd like to admit. Red...or black? He supposes it's a little predictable that he'd opt for the black piece, but it's his signature color for a reason. "Not bad," He mumbles, admiring himself.

He's due for a shave, but he knows you don't mind the stubble as he caresses his jaw. Ah, he's already tenting. The hell is wrong with him?

Bruce sighs, waddling a semi-awkward walk of shame to his side of the bed. He doesn't want to text you to come up; that'd sound too eager, and as much as he wants a good fucking tonight, he can do without that stupid smug look you're already going to have from him dressing up. He stretches out over the silk sheets, palming over himself. His cock bobs and fights against the scrap of fabric, capturing its tip, but Bruce has it tucked enough where it shouldn't slip out that easily.

He hears you creeping up the stairs before you reach the bedroom door, and his mind scrambles for a seductive position to throw himself in before settling on resting on his side. He feigns boredom when you turn the handle, only a quarter sheepish as he meets your gaze. "Had fun keeping me waiting, did you?"

Bruce chuckles when you pounce, eager to strip and cage him on the bed. "I'm only kidding, lover. It wasn't long at all." He coaxes you in for a kiss, immediately licking and biting into your mouth, pulling back with an expectant look. "That doesn't mean I'm not any less impatient, though; there's only so long before I need to head out, and I haven't had my fill of you yet today."

You literally bent him over the tub this morning?

Bruce gets a bit of whiplash seeing the old angsty kiddie he picked up return into his arms with his sons pregnency. Jason revels in the attitude. Finally! The others can see that the happy-go-lucky Dick everyone knows and loves is so not the Richard he grew up with. A lot of the time, Dick just wants to be home, at the manor. With his safe people in his safe haven being pampered by his daddy and his grandpa.

That's not to say he doesn't love being at your new home with Haley, but the added support is needed. He especially gets spitty when he has to retire from Nightwing for the time being (...Bruce Nightwing. Eugh, shiver). His siblings help out with watching the city, but Dick is not happy about it.

When the three little ones are finally born, it's likely through a C-section to avoid complications, which means there's an added surgery he needs to recover from on top of the extrication. You try to take it upon yourself to tend to their needs and to let Dick rest, but the babies want their mama, and he's a night owl anyway. He powers through the pain and the exhaustion even without having to; that's just the type of person he is.

For all Dicks usual niceties, he's absolutely a no-nonsense don't touch my fucking baby type. No kisses, wash your hands, don't take them from me without asking first, and even then, do not think that means you can. It's a bit jarring to see, but heart-warming from your position. Dick worked out through the entirety of his pregnancy, but he's still a little insecure about his body afterwards. Not for the sake of the added weight, that he's proud of, knowing it means he provides for his babies. He just misses his hard muscles...he worked hard for those.

As the buggers grow Dicks old personality resurfaces. He's less rowdy about returning to work because his hands are fuller, spending his days catering to the kids instead of just hovering and making sure they're still breathing. At first, Dick thought it was an amazing idea to dress the triplets up the same...that was until he had a hard time differentiating them. Dick has never told you about it, but he's a little scared he still has them mixed up to this day. Now he's insistent on dressing them differently.

Dick gets the call about Bruce just on the cusp when he's trying to get back into patrolling again. The old man's being broody and whiny, as always, whenever he's bedridden. Honestly at his age, he should be retired, but you've all lost hope on that happening unless he's crippled.

"Look who I've got!" He'll coo, peeking into the room with the little ones under his arms. "Who is it? Who is it, huh? Is it Brucie? Is it Grandpapy?"

"Very funny, chum." Bruce sighs, already relaxing at the sight of his baby and grandbabies in the doorway. "Alfred didn't say you lot were coming by today. How are you?"

He tries to make casual conversation while Dick loads the squirming toddlers over his broad chest. They giggle and squeal, excited to see the familiar face. One shuffles up to his face, smacking and pulling at his jowls with their tiny fist. "Helpful," Bruce muses, supporting their back.

Bruce is a man of high stature and is used to dating women he has to glance down at. Having a boyfriend who's as rough and tough as you are definitely takes some time getting used to.

He can predict how you are in the bedroom before you enter it, and his sore hips afterwards are a result of his correct assumption. You fuck hard, fast, and desperately. As if chasing the last of the sweetest delicacy known to man in this dusty old manner. Bruce isn't going anywhere, you don't have to be so...aggressive, as he puts it.

Bruce can take the pace you're dishing out, but that doesn't mean it isn't mind-melting sex on his end. He's so focused on keeping himself up from collapsing against the sweaty bedsheets that he'll stop responding to your taunts and whispers in his ear. Drooling freely with a bright red face. Contorted as his muscles flex and twitch under you.

The anus is constructed to be able to naturally constrict after 'stretching', but Jesus, the way you piston your cock into Bruce's makes him feel as if it'll never close back up. Every post-round, he'll tentatively glance in the mirror just to inspect the reality of his used hole, sighing in relief that it's not literally torn open.

He's always saying that you're way too rough, but...it's not like he's ever asking you to really stop. Not in a way that makes it clear that Bruce hates it, anyway. Foreplay always looks like this:

"Easy Darling, easy." He'll breathe as you work your fingers inside of him. Groaning some at the sheer girth of them. His eyes roll back underneath their closed lids, his massive hips rocking back against you. You're able to manage that much, but once you slip your cock inside, all reason and restraint leave you.

Then, Bruce has to deal with the entire weight of you against his back. Your hands clawing and gripping at his scarred skin. Leaving blotchy red marks everywhere you touch. It hurts so good, but he isn't so spry anymore. Bruce really shouldn't be entertaining you like this.

"Hah, ah, oh, lover. Lover," He pants through your unintentional headlock. One hand grasps the sheet below him, the other reaches back at your hip. Lightly, he smacks at you. "Baby."

It isn't sex with his young and turnt dolly though if you aren't flipping him through seven different positions only to end up with your face in his tits. He's not as toned as he used to be. Hard muscles fluffed up by the natural layer of fat that comes with old age. So Bruce definitely has a case of man boobs going on. They're perfect to latch onto, really; it's the only thing that gets you to calm down. Your thrusts will slow and shallow in their intensity, and Bruce takes the opportunity to brush over your head and murmur sweet nothings to you.

It doesn't last long, though, and soon you're fucking into him again like it's your last night on earth. Whining about pumping him full and leaving him heavy. Having a baby of your own, god, you want it so bad. Bruce wants to argue that he's one, not a woman and two, an old man, but he's far too overwhelmed to put up any sort of real fight against you. Just bobbing his head along to your rants.

He thought he wouldn't be enough, that it would be too hard with his missing leg and that he would, overall, give you a bad experience.

But he's a grown man, who knows how life is and despite having never laid with another person before he knew sex wasn't as magical as one could think it is. He knew not to have high expectations, it wouldn't heal all his problems. It's just a different form of intimacy. He knew what to expect.

Yet tonight you washed it all away. His insecurities had vanished as he felt your skin against his own. Loving him entirely. Making this night feel magical.

Levi rested atop of you, catching his breath, sitting on you for a moment.

He could still feel you twitch inside him and it almost made him want to start again. He decided against it, preferring to let himself flop to your side.

You held him against you, breathing calmly with a smile on your face.

"You're so pretty." You say, caressing his hair.

"Shut up." It's quiet, almost shy, a faint blush on his cheeks. Despite all the praise you've spewed this night, he's still not used to it. You smiled again and kissed his cheek.

After a few minutes you felt him shift before pulling away, sitting up and looking around.

"What're you looking for ?"

"Something to clean up."

"I'll get it." You say, standing up. He watches your naked form walk around the bed to enter the bathroom. He can hear the faucet for a few seconds then you walk back in the bedroom with a wet cloth.

You approach him and wipe his abdomen carefully, removing the dried splatter of his own cum.

"I can do it."

"I'm the one holding the cloth." You say with a chuckle and you continue cleaning him up, then yourself as he watches the fabric go swiftly around your dick. You wink at him, clicking your tongue, noticing his stare and he scoffs, looking away with a slight blush on his cheeks.

You snort at his reaction, patting his head as he slaps your hand away, and you walk away to put the cloth down and go back to bed, jumping into it.

As you lay down, Levi goes back against you, resting his head by your shoulder, wrapping an arm around you. You sigh, content as you pull him closer and you close your eyes, falling asleep soon after.

He won't admit it out loud, especially since it would be useless as you're asleep, but he felt happy right now, by your side. Maybe life doesn't have to be hard all the time.

He allowed himself to smile, feeling comfortable against your warm touch, his thumb gently caressing your skin, delicately, as if he feared it would wake you up.

He snorted quietly at your snoring, your slumber seemed peaceful and he envied you a bit.