BEKSA

:: part I : part II : part III ::

mdni. higuruma would never have imagined he’d meet you like this... the problem was, you didn’t even know he existed. he watched you through the window every night and felt properly disgusting, knowing he was doing something illegal. but how was he supposed to resist you when you were wandering around the living room with your tits out?

voyeur! higuruma, who the moment he caught sight of his new neighbour in lace knickers and with her tits out, nearly choked on his cigarette smoke. that night, all he wanted was a bit of peace in the privacy of his flat, while the other neighbours were already asleep — and yet your lights were still on, strutting about and oozing sex appeal. he looked away, stubbing out his half-smoked cigarette, silently begging in his mind that this would be the last time he’d see you in such a bloody tempting state.

voyeur! higuruma was a proper bloke, a man who didn’t break the law and even fought so others could live in peace. yet he couldn’t resist his neighbour, who this time was hanging out the washing on the balcony. it would have been perfectly ordinary... if only you hadn’t been wearing that airy little mini dress, and the lack of a bra made your nipples press through the thin fabric. the moment you caught hiromi’s gaze as he smoked on the balcony before heading to work, you waved at him. awkwardly, he waved back, then scuttled straight back into his flat.

voyeur! higuruma, who had been thinking about quitting smoking, because every time he stepped out to light up on the balcony, he saw you scantily clad. and at night you’d strut around with your tits bare, not giving a damn that someone might catch a glimpse. the worst part was that, over time, hiromi stopped feeling any urge not to stare at you, as you tempted him more and more. your young body was far too bloody tempting, and he knew he was a fuckin pervert... which was why he had to stop going out onto the balcony.

voyeur! higuruma did it again. though this time there was no cigarette between his fingers, he stepped out onto the balcony under the excuse of getting some fresh air. and surprisingly, your living room wasn’t lit by bright, blinding light, but by a red led. the man leaned closer to the railing, hands gripping it, and the moment he saw you, his hold tightened until his knuckles went white. you were sitting on the sofa, legs wide, head thrown back, fingers buried deep in your pussy. hiromi felt his cock twitch. after what he’d seen, there was only one thing he could conclude — no matter how much he tried to resist, he’d succumb to your bloody irresistible charm.

voyeur! higuruma started thinking about you even at work. just remembering that he’d seen you in such an obscene state made him rock hard. and when he returned to his flat that evening, he went over to the window to check if you were home — it was dark. your absence drove him to his sofa where he sat, clutching his stiff dick in his fist, masturbating and thinking of one thing — you.

voyeur! higuruma, who the moment he saw bright lights on in your flat again, didn’t step out onto the balcony but went straight to the window, staring at yours, where he had a perfect view of your lounge and well... you. your sweet knickers were purple this time, and your soft tits practically gleamed in the light as you lounged on the sofa, holding a thick book in your hand. while the glasses on your neat little nose kept sliding down, forcing you to adjust them again and again.

voyeur! higuruma hadn’t expected to see that red light in your flat again. and fuck, he had no idea that touching his cock would feel a thousand times better while watching his sweet neighbour masturbate on the sofa. he’d never heard your voice, but he guessed your moans sounded like honey — sweet and addictive. not even five minutes had passed before his hand was covered in thick cum. and oh god... the way you affected him.

voyeur! higuruma was a proper bloody pervert — and he realised it when watching you became his routine, his dirty little secret. over time, he learned more about you: a calm, twenty-something student, living alone, leaving the flat every day at eight, probably to study — he got that from the older neighbours, who loved gossip more than their own grandchildren. oh, if only they knew that this sweet, «quiet» student liked to strip off.

voyeur! higuruma, who was in charge of recruiting new interns, had his eyes glued to the paperwork this time, keeping his attention where it should be — on the job. a quiet knock broke the silence, and when he told them to come in, he was still scanning important documents.

“good morning,” came a honeyed voice, and the moment he looked up, his dick nearly twitched. your eyes were watching him intently, and when you realised who he was, you smiled.

“oh, what a lovely surprise,” you said again, unaware that for him, the lovely surprise was your voice. finally, he could imagine your moans.

voyeur! higuruma, when he got back to his flat the same day, ran straight to the window again, greeted by the same view as always. this time, there was a glass of wine in your hand, your hips swaying to the rhythm of the music you were listening to. you were celebrating — and you had every right to. after all, you’d become his intern.

voyeur! higuruma saw the red light in your lounge and knew he’d have to face you the next day — standing right beside you, answering your questions, and holding himself back from fucking you on his desk. but that was a problem for tomorrow, because right now he was imagining your voice and moans, unable to stop himself from muffling his own as he once again fondled and stroked his rock-hard cock. his eyes were glued to you, the red glow lighting up your skin as a pink vibrator buried itself in your dripping cunt. you were his torment and the spark for doing filthy things, yet...

voyeur! higuruma did it again. and he’d keep doing it, because you were his new bloody addiction.

── ₊˚⊹♡ the greatest advantage II

ty for the kind words and the question, which actually encouraged me to write this. it’s a short continuation of my previous story.

nanami had many virtues.

however, despite that, he also had flaws — ones he claimed he could keep under control or eventually overcome. still, the sight of his younger sister with his best friend stirred something strange within him. he felt an equal mix of jealousy and protectiveness, yet also a certain calm, knowing that his best friend was a good man and that he didn’t have to worry about your heart being broken.

and yet... there was always that lingering worry.

but who would have thought that nanami could be jealous... and it was hard to tell whether he was jealous over you, or over higuruma. well, the blond man was still getting used to the sight of the two of you — cuddling on the leather sofa, stealing quick kisses or speaking to each other in those soft, affectionate tones.

and your mutual friends loved to tease him about it, which only made his irritation grow even stronger.

during your film marathons together, he kept squeezing himself between you and hiromi on the sofa — out of habit. then a few simple words from you were enough to make his breath catch, and the realisation struck him like a whip.

“kento, why won’t you let me sit close to my boyfriend?”

it happened far too often for him to fully come to terms with the fact that you and his best friend were actually in a relationship. yet some part of him kept forgetting.

more often than not, it ended with him sulking in the corner of the sofa, sitting away from the two of you — despite your insistence that you also wanted to sit close to your beloved older brother.

“i want to sit between my two favourite boys.”

there were moments when the dark-haired man’s fingers wandered a little too boldly over your body, yet a single stern look from the blond was enough for higuruma to swallow hard and, instead of groping you, simply pull you into his arms like a lovestruck, innocent teenager.

later that very same day, kento had a serious conversation with hiromi over a glass of whisky — and of course, the topic of that conversation was you.

“even though we’re best mates, that won’t stop me from ripping your balls off if i ever find out she cried because of you.” the blond’s words were serious, almost excessive. yet instead of laughing it off, higuruma took them just as seriously.

“i’ve known for a while that she’s the one. mate... i’m madly in love with your sister,” he said, a faint blush colouring the tips of his ears and his cheeks — perhaps from embarrassment, or perhaps from the amount of alcohol already in his system.

in any case, nanami was much calmer afterwards, and if he’d known it would ease his worries or lessen his jealousy, he would have had that conversation long ago. from that moment on, he felt far less stiff in your and hiromi’s presence whenever you cuddled up to each other, knowing he couldn’t remain the only man in your life forever.

he had simply come to realise that in the life of his younger sister — yours — a second man had appeared, someone who, just like him, would do anything for you. and it would be with higuruma that you would spend the rest of your life, while kento would support the two of you quietly, from a distance.

because he loved you, and he trusted the dark-haired man deeply — enough to entrust you to the care of another man.

nanami knows there’s some kind of secret floating around behind his back — one he hasn’t the slightest clue about. he decides to find out for himself, since neither his best friend nor his younger sister will utter a single word. expect fluff, a touch of comedy, and a brief mention of sex.

nanami had many virtues.

he was a firm, principled man, and although he could be strict in many situations, his loyalty and kind heart made him widely regarded as a genuinely good person. and that wasn’t the end of his merits. kento was a protective older brother — and, as it happened, you were counted among the many blessings in his life.

higuruma took a liking to you immediately — you were the younger sister of his best friend, raised from childhood with the same manners as the blond man himself; modest, kind, and perpetually smiling. in short, your presence was comforting. never would he have imagined that, over time, your bond would deepen and that you would become something far more to each other than merely kento’s friend/little sister.

it began with a harmless crush, kisses pressed to cheeks — and ended with him sneaking into your bedroom at night and fucking you while your brother slept in the room next door. «i love you» slipped from your lips more and more often, even during moments when you leaned subtly over his shoulder during film marathons with your shared circle of friends.

despite being adults, the entire group treated you gently, you were the youngest among them. nanami especially, was overprotective. in his eyes you were a delicate little doll whose innocence had to be guarded at all costs.

so hiromi could scarcely imagine what the blond would do if he discovered that his best friend had defiled the body and mind of his precious little sister. and yet, the thought of being caught in the act stirred something in him — excitement, and a strange sense of relief at the idea that you might no longer have to hide.

“so you’re saying no one was in our house?” your brother asked one evening, pacing back and forth across the living room.

“why would i lie about that?” you replied, tilting your head to keep watching your favourite series, since kento’s broad frame was blocking the screen. irritated, you grabbed a handful of popcorn and tossed it at him.

“i’m not saying you’re lying, but why would the neighbours lie about some man climbing out of your window in the middle of the night?” the statement made higuruma, sitting beside you on the sofa, tense up. his grip on the bowl of popcorn resting on his lap tightened as he struggled to pretend he was focused on the television.

“you were home that night. we both know you wouldn’t let some «burglar» into the house,” you insisted, trying to end the subject. yet nanami halted directly in front of you and hiromi, who — in his opinion — were sitting far too close together.

“and what do you think?” he asked suddenly, directing the question to your boyfriend, who fought to appear nonchalant despite being the very reason this conversation existed.

“i think the same as her. if someone had been there, you’d have noticed,” he shrugged, eyes fixed on the television — though instead of the action on screen, he found himself staring at the enticing silhouette of his best friend.

that was your first mistake.

higuruma had a habit of maintaining eye contact with whomever he addressed — whether a shopkeeper, an acquaintance, or someone far closer. he always looked at the face of the person he was speaking to.

“alright.” the blond dismissed the matter reluctantly, though not before sliding onto the sofa between you, nearly crushing you both. for the rest of the evening, he observed you carefully, not entirely convinced by your words.

three days later, late at night, you lay on that same sofa — this time sprawled across your boyfriend’s broad chest, rising and falling with each breath. higuruma’s fingers traced soothing circles along your hips.

his warmth was exactly what you needed on a saturday evening. normally you would have spent the day with kento, but overtime at work had disrupted his plans, and you hadn’t wanted to remain home alone.

the dark-haired man’s hand drifted to your arse, giving it a gentle squeeze, making you sigh audibly. a soft smile curved your lips as you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

you knew exactly what he wanted from you.

“romi, my brother will be home in an hour. i don’t want to greet him looking all dishevelled,” you whispered, stretching slightly and leaning your face closer to his, until your soft lips brushed against his.

“who says we have to be particularly messy tonight, hm?” he murmured, closing the distance between your lips. the kiss was slow, sensual, deeply intimate. his mouth tasted of nicotine and whisky mixed with cola you’d been drinking earlier, and it only made you sink further into him, losing yourselves in the warmth and quiet heat of the moment.

you released his hand, cupping his cheeks, while he gripped your backside, squeezing and occasionally giving it a playful smack. just as your hand slipped beneath his shirt, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoed down the corridor.

you tore yourself from his arms in panic, and he sat upright instantly. one thought crossed both your minds — kento was home early.

without hesitation you rushed to the front door, snatching up his elegant shoes and black coat and flinging them towards higuruma so he could escape.

the coat hit him in the face with a soft thwack, nearly knocking him back onto the sofa. seeing the handle slowly being pressed down, you reacted without thinking — grabbing the metal and jerking it sharply upwards, preventing nanami from entering his own house.

“oh dear! the door’s stuck again!” you called, stepping back so he wouldn’t realise you were bracing it shut. in that moment you severely underestimated his intelligence, the situation was so absurd even a child would suspect someone was holding the handle.

you glanced toward the living room. your boyfriend had already opened the window and was poised to make his escape. the second he vanished from sight, the handle you were clutching was forced down with a loud click, the door swinging open fully.

you met kento’s weary gaze, a crease etched between his brows.

“why were you stopping me from coming in?” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose like a disappointed parent.

“i wasn’t doing anything,” you replied, letting him step inside.

“the door sticks. look.” you shut it firmly... then reopened it with ease. he ignored you, placing his briefcase on the kitchen counter. but his eyes did not miss the two empty whisky glasses.

“was someone else here?” he asked, brows knitting as he studied you for any telltale signs.

“utahime.” you dropped your gaze for a moment — fuck, you wanted to gouge your own eyes out over that tiny slip. nanami already knew you’d lied, yet he merely murmured quietly, taking both glasses and tucking them into the dishwasher. for the rest of the evening, he kept giving you suspicious glances, saying nothing.

that was your second mistake.

the next day was sunday — a day when you could finally allow yourselves a proper rest. your group of friends decided to meet for another film marathon, this time at your and kento’s house.

nanami was behind the wheel, while higuruma sat quietly in the passenger seat to his right. geto and shoko were fooling around in the back, nearly giving the two introverted men a headache.

and just as they pulled into the driveway of your house, an elegantly dressed couple emerged from the neighbouring home, preparing to leave town. geto and shoko had already long since gone inside, but the blond and his friend weren’t in any particular hurry.

as the couple got into their luxury car, they exchanged polite nods with the two young men, but the older man paused midway, staring curiously in higuruma’s direction.

“darling, isn’t that the man?” kento heard his neighbour whisper to his wife. the words made him freeze in place, not even noticing that hiromi had long since disappeared inside your house.

noticing nanami’s questioning glance, the older man chuckled, waving a hand dismissively as if to say it was probably nothing.

“our apologies, mr. nanami. we’re sorry for mistakenly calling your friend a «burglar».” at those words, his knuckles paled from clenching his fists. still, he nodded politely, silently thanking them for the unexpected clarification.

“thank you, mr. and mrs. gojo.” the couple smiled, unaware of what exactly he was thanking them for. without wasting a moment, kento headed for the front door, ready to confront the truth he had just learned. he wasn’t angry that you had fallen in love, nor that his best friend had likely touched you inappropriately — but he was furious at both of you for lying to him.

from that day on, perhaps having satoru as a neighbour became just a little less irritating.

▎genre: smut : the mc’s a shikigami : there’s domain sex & a creampie : basically porn with a bit of plot thrown in : don’t hate me for this... i just had to write it :

ㅤ₊˚⊹ higuruma was a composed man, the sort who placed justice and other people’s wellbeing above his own. long hours without sleep were beginning to show, at times, he almost felt as though he was losing his mind. the beings he began seeing one evening resembled creatures not of this world. his initial thought was that it was simply the result of overwork — ordinary hallucinations brought on by exhaustion. however, the following day, on his way to work, he saw them in greater numbers.

whatever they were, he could feel a negative energy emanating from them.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ his thoughts swirled, stress mounting relentlessly, and whenever he allowed himself even a brief moment of sleep, he dreamed of a majestic woman whose beauty rivalled that of aphrodite herself. though her eyes were bound with a white silk sash, marking her unmistakably as a goddess of justice — that goddess was you. there was both severity and gentleness within you, and the scales you held in your hands symbolised an order that trembled upon its brass chains.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ at least at first, he believed you were merely a figure appearing in his dreams — the truth, however was far different. the hours spent in your presence were calm, and although you never spoke to him, he told you everything. he confided in you about yet another failure in court and the injustice that reigned within society. he spoke of the filth and the «ugliness of humanity» that festered inside people — and the cursed spirit he saw were no different from humans at all.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ until one night, as he was returning home late, a cursed spirit attacked him. that was when he learned how to exorcise those creatures. all the while, you had been at his side, levitating just above the ground, the hem of your long black robe the only thing that nearly brushed against the grime of the floor. he noticed your presence only after he had rid himself of the fury that had been building inside him for so long.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ that was when he realised you were real. you were not a figment of his imagination — and, strangely enough, that thought brought him a measure of comfort.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ he spent his spare moments teaching himself about his technique, and you began appearing more frequently in his world — not only within the domain he could, at that time, summon solely when slipping into sleep. you followed him like a devoted puppy trailing after its master. he found that he liked your presence — the calm he felt whenever you were near — yet he still had not discovered who, or what, you truly were.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ one day he awoke, yet instead of the rays of sunlight that usually blinded him, he saw your gentle face. you were towering over him, straddling his hips, your hands planted on either side of his head. the sight might have been terrifying, had you not been so otherworldly beautiful.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ higuruma didn’t even realise when his hands rose to your cheek, feeling the delicate texture of your skin. his fingers caught on the white silk that covered your eyes, and just as he was about to remove it, your hand stopped him. you still had not spoken to him. you remained silent, a faint smile resting on your lips, as though you were waiting for the right moment to grace him with your voice.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ he knew you were not human. no one else could see you, and hiromi almost pitied them for it — they were deprived of the sight of the goddess you were. you would lean over his shoulder as he sat in court, exhaustion etched across his face. the last case he had taken on was wearing him down mentally, he waited impatiently for the verdict — a verdict he ultimately lost.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ he wasn’t furious over his own failure. he was furious at the injustice of it all, at the people whose corruption had led his client to ruin. that unjust judgement became a switch — something that snapped inside him — and he could no longer bear the weight of it, the suffering, the accusatory stares of those who placed their faith in him.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ “deliver justice unto them.” it was the first time he heard your voice — soft as silk threads, yet as firm and commanding as befits a goddess of justice. he felt your warm touch on his shoulders, your soft breasts pressing against his back. and your voice... oh, your voice was utterly captivating. he surrendered to the words that fell from your lips, trusting that he could render his own judgment, guided by your presence.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ and there, even though you could not see his actions with your eyes bound, the muffled screams of agony, the wet thud of the hammer, and the metallic tang in the air were proof enough — proof that he had trusted your words. he had trusted you, the goddess of justice.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ once again, you pressed yourself against his back, wrapping your arms around his trembling form and listening to his heart pounding wildly from the rush of adrenaline. leaning close to his ear, you caressed him with your warm breath. “judgment delivered,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the shell of his ear.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ after it was all over, he abandoned everything he had worked for his entire life and went to the colony, where death was an everyday occurrence. guilt no longer existed — he had long since cast it aside, though there were still days when doubt crept in. yet a single glance at your face was enough to shatter his uncertainty.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ you were a part of him, his strength and the tool he could wield. but beyond that, he could not help but be drawn to your feminine curves and assets, accentuated by the tight, flowing robe you wore.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ and one day, within his domain, he pressed you against the railing where countless final death sentences had been carried out. his veined hands gripped your soft thighs as he lifted you onto the railing, your legs winding around his hips. you were a goddess, a judge who delivered punishment — yet in that moment, it was higuruma who was administering the penalty to you.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ one of the man’s hands slid beneath your black robe, tugging it high enough to reveal your bare thighs, adorned with lacy white garters. you looked utterly enticing in that position: your back arched slightly, head tilted back, offering him access to your neck, practically begging for a messy kiss. you were a strict judge, a guardian of order and justice — yet in his arms, you were so damn submissive.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ “hiromi, deliver the verdict,” you gasped, feeling his lips trail over your neck, leaving wet kisses in their wake. the man’s nose brushed against your skin, sliding towards your earlobe. “i hereby render the verdict immediately executable, and sentence your cunt to my cock,” he whispered close to your ear, spreading your legs at the same time.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ higuruma had lost all sense of time, completely absorbed by your dripping cunt. your knuckles had gone white from gripping the railing so hard as he sucked and licked your pink slit. his tongue slid in and out of your wet hole, while his long nose brushed lightly against your parted labia. you couldn’t hold back your whimpers and moans — no one could hear you anyway — and this was only the beginning of your merciless punishment.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ he fucked you with one hand gripping your neck tightly, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. his thick cock stretched your walls, leaving a sticky ring of precum at its base. he moved inside you with smooth, fluid thrusts, holding the soft flesh of your thighs in his other hand, making them tremble from the sheer pleasure. “your~ah cunt is so fucking tight, my little judgegirl,” he murmured, nibbling gently at your collarbone.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ higuruma was your master, even though you still had a measure of free will. yet you couldn’t refuse him, couldn’t stop his warm cum from flooding your womb. your cunt pulsed around his dick as he pounded deep into your cervix, and the moment your breathing grew shallow, you both knew you were close. he leaned down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss that drowned out your loud moans.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ and then, with one last thrust of his hips, your punishment came to an end. thick cum flooded your pussy, single milky drops trailing down your ass all the way to the bench you’d been fucked on. you tilted your head back, smiling at your own thoughts. well, this guy certainly handed out better sentences than you ever could.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ higuruma buried his face in your collarbone, holding your warm body close in his arms, listening to your breaths and pounding hearts. though you were the «judgegirl», he became the judge, if only for a moment — and in the end, there was only one thing left to do.

ㅤ₊˚⊹ “i hereby adjourn the trial,” he spoke in his deep, yet tired voice, giving a hard smack to your juicy ass.

▎genre: smut : includes toxic behaviour : slight manipulation : bath sex & creampie :

whatever there was between you was meant to remain strictly between the two of you, beyond the knowledge of any third party. at least, that was how it was supposed to be — and it wasn’t about fleeting glances across the office or the soft kisses he pressed to your neck at one in the morning.

whatever bound you together was meant to stay a sweet little secret. you trusted one another not to spill your filthy confessions or the affair that had been blooming from the very moment you became his secretary. he trusted that the relationship growing alongside your feelings was sincere.

but the moment you saw his trembling silhouette, a hammer in his hand dripping with thick, still-warm blood — that was when your trust faltered.

he watched as the stack of papers slipped from your hands, scattering gracefully across the tiles, now adorned with droplets of splattered blood like some grotesque mosaic. the ruby liquid seeped into the white sheets, staining their pristine surface just as his actions had stained and shattered your faith in him.

how could you still trust him, after seeing what he’d done? the brutality. the carelessness. and yet, just as your legs urged you to flee the massacre, he stopped you — because he too had stopped trusting you. he didn’t trust that your infatuation, your feelings for him, would survive what you had witnessed.

he wanted to keep you.

to make sure you couldn’t run.

and so now, with his rough hand wrapped round your throat and a firm grip on your hip, you took what he offered. your wrists were bound tightly with his tie, and cold water lapped at your skin, splashing along your body with each of his thrusts, kissing your collarbone and throat with an icy caress. crystal droplets coated your naked form and the floor alike, pooling at the centre of the stage.

he didn’t let you escape, he kept you at his side. now, in the midst of this deadly game, you behaved as though performing for an audience — only there was no one else, no spectators to applaud the obscene spectacle you played out.

the boards beneath the bath creaked with every sharp movement, water sloshing violently over the sides. yet nothing could drown out your sweet whimpers and broken moans, wrung from you by the pleasure he inflicted.

his hips struck against yours pelvis, and with every thrust his dick stretched your tight walls further. your cunt dripped with your seminal fluids and icy water, squelching obscenely each time he drove into you.

for over an hour and a half he had been ravaging your body, teasing it with his coarse touch, leaving marks and bruises he liked to call tokens of adoration. the warmth you’d known weeks ago had turned cold, his once-comforting thoughts hardened into indifference. in public he shielded you from danger, but within four silent walls he tormented your cunt, hoping for penance, hoping to reclaim what he had lost — your trust.

“hiro—ah, enough~mm!” your syrupy moans reached his ears, and how the fuck was he meant to stop when you sounded so pretty? your cunt was overstimulated and swollen from the brutal rhythm of his cock. throbbing pain tangled with pleasure, your eyes rolling back in helpless ecstasy.

“i thought we were working together. do you trust me, sunflower?” his hot breath brushed your ear, trailing lower as his lips began sucking at your neck. his hands slid to your thighs, spreading them wider so he could push deeper into your pink cunt.

you clenched your teeth against the sensation, saliva glistening at the corners of your mouth. your bound hands looped around his damp nape, tugging at his dark hair to drag him closer. each roll of his hips struck at the perfect angle, knowing exactly how to make you fall apart.

you felt every vein along his shaft, the rounded head pressing again and again against that sensitive spot inside you, stretching you further. his earlier come leaked from your hole, forming an almost invisible ring at the base of his cock as the water washed the white slick away with every movement.

the splash of water, the wet slap of his balls against your skin, and your shared moans composed the soundtrack to your private performance. he bit into your flesh, burying his nose against your collarbone. his hands slid to your waist as your legs locked around his hips.

“you take my cock so well, sunflower. you deserve a reward.” he pressed a kiss to your drenched skin, feeling your pussy pulse around him. you were close — and so was he. he wanted nothing more than to spill inside your womb again, even though his sticky come was already leaking out of you.

“i’m close~ah!” you gasped, pain and pleasure laced together as you threw your head back. he smiled in triumph — his hands had been dirtied by blood countless times, all for you. he gave you protection, a comfortable life. he believed he deserved your devotion.

“come on my dick, let yourself go,” he murmured. he wanted you to love him, worship him, belong to him. after everything he had done for you, he wanted you to trust him and stay. to see not a murderer, but a man who believed in righteous judgement.

you felt his hips lose their steady rhythm, his cock twitching inside you as he filled you with thick, warm seed — yet he didn’t stop. he thrust deeper, ensuring his come flooded every inch of you until it would spill from you in obscene excess.

you clawed at his neck and pulled his hair, feeling your inner walls flutter along his entire length until the knot low in your belly snapped, and you came hard around his trembling penis.

“fuck, i love you,” he breathed hot against your throat, not even expecting you to repeat the words. because he knew — he trusted — that you felt the same as you had before joining this deadly game.

you trusted him too.

but in a different way. you trusted that somewhere inside him there was still that fragment of the man you had fallen hopelessly in love with. you were only waiting for the right moment — for your old hiromi to return.

the sound of silent footsteps echoed through the quiet flat, while the hum of the fan and the faint drip of water falling from the showerhead blended into the stillness of the night. the flat was dark, yet he knew every corner far too well for switching on the light to be necessary at that hour. higuruma rubbed his tired eyes as soon as he stepped into the space of his little world — your shared world.

the round moon hung high in the inky sky, and the sultry night only made the weight of the long day press harder upon him. in that heavy moment, he needed nothing more than sleep — and you.

“words like violence break the silence come crashing in into my little world.”

with a weary sigh, he slipped off his dark suit jacket and tossed it carelessly onto a nearby chair. his hands moved to his creased tie, loosening it as though it were his only ticket to relief. and in a way, it was. as a man who was always regarded as polished and impeccably mannered, he cherished the moments when he could shed the mask everyone knew.

the stoic lawyer in a tailored suit, assertive to the point of discomfort. yet he was not like that all the time. the only person who truly knew him better than anyone else was you. in your presence, that rigid composure softened — you were far too tempting, almost like an enchantress.

higuruma practically dragged himself towards your shared bedroom, and as soon as he pushed the door ajar, he caught sight of your sleeping figure.

“painful to me pierce right through me can’t you understand? oh, my little girl.”

the woman who had stolen his heart — who had changed his world. his steps were heavy as he crossed the room, bending halfway to slip off his shoes and leaving them in the middle of the floor. he had no strength for order, no will to tidy. though it was terribly careless, he promised himself he would put everything back in its place «later».

exhaustion clouded his vision, and you were his only motivation not to collapse halfway to the bed. the thought that tomorrow was sunday kept his spirit at ease — it meant he could savour your closeness in the morning, holding you in his arms.

“all i ever wanted all i ever needed is here in my arms.”

the mattress dipped beneath his weight. with the last of his strength, he unbuttoned his rumpled shirt and slid his elegant trousers from his slender yet aching legs. he did not even take a shower — he was too tired, too mentally drained to wash away the failure that had followed him from the courtroom. another adjournment, another burden weighing on his mind. and yet, the moment he felt your soft touch, his thoughts quietened.

higuruma gave in to the warmth, sinking deeper into the mattress as, half-asleep, you instinctively nestled closer into his embrace despite the lingering heat.

“words are very unnecessary they can only do harm. vows are spoken to be broken feelings are intense words are trivial.”

when he finally wrapped his arms around your figure, he could feel the quiet rhythm of your heart and the calm steadiness of your breathing. he loved you — and he did not need to say it aloud. that night he was too exhausted for words, but his actions spoke for him, sometimes meaning more than the phrase «i love you».

he closed his heavy eyelids, gently stroking your bare skin, appreciating the closeness and the rare peaceful moment he could share with you. he felt the faint movement of your arms — you had woken up. yet you said nothing. you let out a soft sigh, perhaps with a sleepy smile upon your lips, and pressed yourself closer to him.

“pleasures remain so does the pain words are meaningless and forgettable.”

there, in the darkness of the bedroom — where words were not the key, but actions were — you both understood the meaning of love expressed in a thousand quiet ways. one of your many ways of saying «i love you» was silence, cherished in calm and tender touch. wrapped in each other’s arms and in the stillness of the night, you listened to the rhythm of your breathing, and sometimes to the quickening of a heartbeat when one of you placed a gentle kiss upon the other’s cheek.

“all i ever wanted all i ever needed is here in my arms. words are very unnecessary they can only do harm.”

“enjoy the silence” by depeche mode — i absolutely love that song, and for some reason it reminds me of higuruma. hiromi is the kind of man who values peace and honesty, and nothing expresses honesty better than actions. i love writing about him because it feels so calming and very much in my own style.

higuruma hated you with a burning passion from the moment he first saw you. you were sitting in the front row, sweetly listening to the lecturer and politely interrupting him whenever some stray question troubled your little head. you didn’t belong there, you didn’t belong as a law student — so he thought — not when you dressed like that and drew the attention of other men, including him.

higuruma hated that his thoughts revolved around you nonstop. he was a machine when it came to studying, easily memorising countless articles and codes. and yet because of you he struggled to focus during lectures, and the nights he once devoted to studying were now spent thinking only of you and that tight dress that showed off your ass.

higuruma hated it when his roommates talked about you, reminding him of your existence and making it even harder to concentrate. he disliked all the attention you received from students of other faculties. and you, in your unintended innocence, would smile at all those people who praised you.

higuruma hated your smile, that warm gaze and gentle voice when you first spoke to him. his throat tightened, he could barely force out a word when you asked whether he would explain the legal terminology to you, since he was the best in the group. you have no idea how badly he wanted to refuse you, to throw in some sarcastic remark. but bloody hell, looking into those eyes, all he could say was «yes».

higuruma hated the way you would sigh and hum quiet acknowledgements, letting him know you were listening carefully. you sat on his bed, just the two of you in his dorm room. when he finished explaining the things you didn’t quite understand, he looked at you and realised you were still staring at his side profile. you seemed lost in thought, as if your head were in the clouds, dreaming of unreachable things. yet even when you weren’t the most attentive listener, he still offered you his help.

higuruma hated that one day, in a rush of emotion, he told you that you weren’t suited to a legal career. but instead of crying your eyes out or stamping your foot in anger, you smiled and nodded, telling him it was your father’s decision, not yours. that was the first time he looked at you differently, because you had confirmed his suspicions. you truly didn’t belong as a law student — because you didn’t want it.

higuruma hated when he realised his thoughts about you had intensified. they were no longer sweet thoughts about your pretty face or that dress hugging your luscious arse. he thought about how you would look riding his dick on that bed that creaked at every slight movement. and the worst part was that he thought of you that way while you were sitting on that same bloody bed, asking about lecture questions you hadn’t fully understood.

higuruma hated that one day he couldn’t bear the tension and kissed you in the dorm he shared with his course mates. minutes later you were beneath him, his cock stretching your tight cunt. he fucked you like a dog in heat, the bed creaking under your combined weight with every thrust. and thank god no one heard you, because the next day you both would probably have been bombarded with questions about whether the sex was good.

higuruma hated how easily he fell in love with you.

higuruma loved it when you straddled him and kissed his hooked nose and cheeks while he studied law intensely. those small kisses drifted to his lips, and giving in to temptation he deepened the kiss, feeling your clothed pussy rub against his growing erection.

higuruma loved that under his influence you became more decisive and dropped law, choosing what truly interested you. you changed him, and he changed you. you supported him, and he supported you. he loved you, and vice versa. you stayed with him to the end, planning what you would do after graduation.

higuruma loved the moment he dropped to one knee and asked you to marry him. you said «yes», because how could you refuse the love of your life?

higuruma loved that you had been with him from the very beginning. living in a cramped flat, leading a modest life, with only each other for comfort. mornings in each other’s arms confirmed he had chosen rightly. and the law firm where he had worked from the start began to grow, providing you with a better life, a better future.

higuruma loved the fact that you were his rock. even when he began to lose faith in justice, you stayed by his side, kissing his lips and holding his cold hands in yours. you were the only comfort he needed, and even in critical moments he thought only of you, because you gave him peace. you were his rock, even when he left you for a few months, unable to bear the thought that this unjust world — that people — might hurt you too.

higuruma loved that despite what he had done, you were still by his side. even knowing what had happened in the culling game, you did not leave him, because you loved him as much as he loved you. your forgiveness stirred forgotten emotions within him, he cried for the first time in a long while. he cried because the emotions bottled up inside him were so overwhelming that at last the valve gave way.

higuruma loved you for accepting the «new him». leaving his position as a lawyer and beginning life as a sorcerer marked the start of your new future. soon after everything that had happened, new life blossomed in your womb, driving him to protect you even more — you and your child. and what about the wedding? you weren’t married yet… there would be time for everything, because…

higuruma loved you, for better or for worse.

ᴢᴇɴɪɴ ɴᴀᴏʏᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ

▎genre: smut : oral sex : a threesome : lollipop play : the reader is a bit of a little weirdo : and naoya isn’t such a complete bastard :

the young zenin had known from the very first moment he saw you that you would be a fucking problem in his life. it certainly hadn’t helped that he’d been only sixteen at the time, his hormones raging like mad, while your short school uniform skirt had a habit of riding up, revealing your sweet pink knickers.

back then, he would wrinkle his nose in feigned disgust, thinking of you as some little slut who spread her legs for every man in sight. yet after closely observing your expressions, the way you moved, your gestures, he had to admit you were entirely unaware of your own seductive behaviour.

a stupid little girl.

and now, at eighteen, questions circled endlessly in his mind — how the hell had he managed not to taste those plump lips of yours even once, when for the past three years they had tempted him so relentlessly? he rested his chin on his knuckles, watching with bored intensity as your wet tongue traced slow circles around a pink lollipop.

and fuck, he couldn’t believe you were that foolish, that oblivious, performing those near-erotic acts without a single clue. if he hadn’t known your nature, he would have thought you were trying to seduce him and drag him straight to bed.

your lips curved upwards, gloss shimmering in the sunlight as you babbled something incomprehensible at him. he wasn’t listening. he was far too focused on how perfect your mouth was — how perfect it would look wrapped around his hard cock. and if you were such a good girl as you appeared to be now, he’d likely reward that pretty little face of yours with his sperm.

“naoya-san, today’s the last day of the sister school exchange. we should all celebrate somehow, don’t you think?” he managed to catch from your endless chatter.

normally he’d be irritated that you were pulling him away from his sinful thoughts, but that irritation vanished the moment you leaned closer, giving him a clear view down your exposed cleavage. noticing his burning gaze on your body, you smiled even wider. his eyes wandered over your breasts, slowly travelling upward to your glossy lips, until they finally met your amused expression. naoya swallowed silently, feeling his dick twitch slightly in his trousers.

yes — today was the last day he would see you, and he likely wouldn’t see that pretty face of yours for quite some time. the thought nearly made him frown in displeasure.

“why would we celebrate all together, when it could just be the two of us?” satisfaction flickered across his face, suggesting something far beyond simple «celebration». but to him, you were only a foolish, empty-headed girl — he was more than certain you hadn’t fully grasped the double meaning in his words.

his gaze drifted back to your lips, which you unconsciously licked once more. you let out a soft hum, pressing a finger to your chin as though deep in thought. the eighteen-year-old scoffed at your behaviour, tilting his head to the side as he watched you carefully. honestly, he expected something stupid from you — something just as silly and innocent as you were.

“i know,” you snapped your fingers, slipping the lollipop back between your lips. there was a new glint in your eye — something he had never noticed before.

you rose from your seat, your short skirt briefly clinging to the backs of your plush thighs, white knee-high socks pulled up high, and you took his hand — so much larger than yours. without protest, he followed you in a direction unknown to him, his gaze fixed intensely on your arse swaying with every step.

the corridors of jujutsu tech were surprisingly quiet and empty, though through a nearby window you could both see that the tokyo and kyoto students had gathered in the courtyard. at first, the young zenin assumed you were leading him there, where everyone seemed to be playing some dull game. but the moment you passed the exit doors and continued down the corridor, he felt an unfamiliar tightness in his chest.

you didn’t say a word, tugging him all the way to the end of the hallway. when you stopped before one of the dormitory doors, he noticed the small plaque bearing your name.

it was your room.

his breath caught in his throat, though he managed a quiet laugh. you hurriedly opened the door and invited him inside, guiding him towards a pink bed scattered with cute plush toys. typical of you, he thought, glancing around the rest of the room. everything was pink and sickeningly adorable — painfully girlish.

he sat casually on the edge of the bed, watching as you bent towards your bedside cabinet, giving him a clear view of your pink knickers dotted with tiny hearts. when you finally found what you were looking for, you turned to him proudly, holding up a small basket filled with sweets.

he raised a brow.

“that’s all i’ve got left. how about we eat them together?” you asked, tossing the basket carelessly onto the bed, a few sweets spilling out.

a flicker of frustration crossed his face. what the hell had he been expecting by coming here? he rolled his eyes, tilting his head slightly — but when you approached him slowly, you suddenly grabbed his chin and turned his face towards you.

“earlier, i saw the way you were looking at it,” you murmured around the lollipop in your mouth, clearly referring to it. his jaw relaxed slightly beneath your touch, allowing your delicate fingers to trace along its line.

“unfortunately, i don’t have any more lollipops... unless you want this one,” you added quietly, maintaining intense eye contact.

“you little bitch, you really are stupid,” he muttered, though you saw his adam’s apple bob and a faint sheen of sweat on his skin.

“hm? so you really do want it.”

you smiled, slowly pulling the pink lollipop from your mouth and giving it one last languid lick before leaning in and kissing him carelessly. naoya was taken aback by your boldness — especially when your tongue began brushing against his. the taste of strawberry spread across his mouth, sweet and sticky, your saliva mingling as your tongues fought for dominance.

feeling himself react, he grabbed both your thighs and pulled you down so you were straddling him. the moment his hands grasped your soft arse, you moaned into his mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss further.

heat pooled between your legs, dampness beginning to soak through your knickers. this time you seized him by his freshly dyed blond hair, tugging lightly — you had always had a weakness for pretty blond boys. with slow but deliberate movements, your clothed cunt began grinding against his growing hardness, and fuck, it hadn’t even been four minutes before you felt on the brink.

one of naoya’s hands smacked your arse, the other tracing patterns along your waist before settling over your right breast. his touch was fuel, pushing you both further. when you finally broke the heated kiss, a thin strand of saliva connected your swollen lips.

“fuck, if i’d known you wanted to fuck me, i’d have demanded that bloody lollipop a lot sooner,” he laughed, squeezing your breast firmly.

you moaned again at his touch, never stopping the steady grind against him.

“stop talking shit, nao~ah,” you gasped as he leaned down and bit at your neck. he sucked harshly at your soft skin, inhaling the powdery scent that was maddeningly addictive. his large hand left your chest and moved to the buttons of your short cardigan. once the pink fabric was undone, it was swiftly tossed onto the fluffy carpet.

you tugged his blond hair again, earning a low growl, though he pulled back to look at you. his eyes widened at your expression — hooded gaze, hot cheeks, rapid breathing. he could feel the dampness soaking through his boxers, the result of your fucking existence.

“maybe i wasn’t the stupid one, hm? if you’d stopped staring at my arse, you’d have noticed my eyes have been on you for ages. you thick bastard,” you breathed, unbuttoning his already creased shirt.

your movements were practised, assured, as though you’d done this many times before. once his shirt was open, you tossed it somewhere onto the floor before rising from his lap and turning your back to him with a playful giggle.

naoya reached for his belt, undoing it while watching your teasing figure. slowly, you unfastened your bra and let it fall to the floor. he couldn’t yet see your breasts, which irritated him — but your next movement more than made up for it.

he bit his lip hard as you bent forward, your short skirt riding up to reveal your entire arse. your delicate fingers hooked into the edges of your knickers, slowly sliding them down to your ankles — giving him a full, unobstructed view of your swollen cunt.

his cock ached, desperate to taste you as soon as possible. the moment you turned back to him and met his gaze, he pulled you into his arms and crushed his lips against your sweet mouth. you straddled him again, wearing nothing but your short skirt and knee-high socks. his fingers dug into your soft thighs — likely hard enough to leave bruises — while you boldly reached for his trousers, undoing his zip.

your hands traced slow shapes, rubbing him through the thin fabric. you bit down on his lip, the once-sweet taste turning metallic with his blood, and god, the sounds he made only made your cunt throb harder. breaking the filthy kiss, you slid off him again — this time kneeling boldly between his legs.

“will you be a good boy?” you purred. he scoffed lightly. he wanted to fuck your throat until you couldn’t take any more, wanted you to wrap those pink lips around his dick and savour him — fuck, his fantasies were finally about to come true.

he shuddered when you tugged his trousers down completely, and when it came to removing his boxers, you didn’t hesitate. his cock sprang free, brushing against his lower abdomen — long, thick enough, the tip flushed red, veins running along the side, slightly curved at the end. at the sight, you swallowed faintly, your thighs pressing together.

naoya smirked.

“be a good girl and suck it like your fucking lollipop, yeah?” he mocked your earlier words — but whatever else he meant to say died in his throat when your tongue licked away the salty pre-cum trailing down the side.

“fuck—” he groaned under his breath as you sucked and swirled your tongue around the head. you reached for the sticky strawberry lollipop you’d used before and slowly dragged it along his length. his eyes narrowed as his hand tangled in your hair. you pulled away just long enough to lick where the sweet candy had touched him, tasting salt and strawberry mixed together.

“so you really are a slut, hm? that sweet, innocent act is just a cover, isn’t it?”

you only hummed softly in response, pressing a kiss to the reddened tip — and the moment your eyes met his, the door to your room burst open.

naoya shoved you away instinctively, sending you onto the hard floor. you looked up at the person who had just caught you and the young zenin in the middle of your sinful act — but instead of panicking, you laughed. gojo, who had just witnessed the scene unfolding before him, looked just as composed — though he didn’t bother hiding his surprise.

“so it finally happened,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

naoya glared at him, making no effort to hide his hard cock under satoru’s burning gaze. blue eyes travelled lazily over your naked bodies, taking in every detail. satoru wasn’t surprised to find you with the zenin. it had been inevitable, judging by the way the blond boy looked at you, often failing to hide his erection. and you — a pretty little doll with a weakness for fair-haired boys — could hardly ignore such a tempting opportunity.

gojo might have tasted you first, but tormenting naoya for years had always brought you greater satisfaction.

“i assume you didn’t have to do much to get him like this,” satoru mused, stepping closer and helping you back to your feet.

“right, naoya-chan?”

the eighteen-year-old let out an irritated sound, golden-brown eyes narrowing as he stared at you. you were completely naked, yet entirely at ease in front of the white-haired bastard. so gojo satoru had had you before him... that thought only fuelled his anger further.

you giggled, clinging to satoru’s arm before pressing a long kiss to his lips. he didn’t seem bothered that your mouth tasted of strawberry and his rival’s spend — he kissed you back, gently sucking your lower lip.

naoya watched closely as you ran your fingers through gojo’s white hair, then lightly pushed him away.

“sorry, satoru ~ but naoya’s the needier one,” you blinked innocently, offering the albino the strawberry lollipop.

he only shrugged — after all, he had access to you whenever he wished. casually, he slipped the lollipop into his mouth, observing your smaller figure as you positioned yourself over the blond again. this time you didn’t kneel fully; instead, you arched forward, presenting your arse as though expecting something in return — something wicked.

as you wrapped your lips around naoya’s cock once more, your backside caught the light, the short skirt nothing more than a teasing accessory.

“naughty girl.”

satoru slipped the lollipop from his mouth and stepped up behind you, possessively gripping your hips and pulling your bare arse back against his crotch. you moaned at the feeling, still sucking and running your tongue along the length of the boy in front of you. you wrapped your hand around his dick, pumping with practised precision while your lips worked over the pink tip of the zenin heir. naoya stifled a groan, resting his hand on your head and urging you to take him deeper into your mouth.

gojo watched closely, enjoying the perfect view from above. one of his hands came down on your arse, striking your skin firmly. you and naoya were a moaning mess — how pathetic, he laughed, this time kneeling in front of your arched, soaked cunt. his fingers slid between your folds, gently spreading them apart.

“you’re absolutely drenched, doll. bon appétit.” he blew softly against your wet heat before dipping his warm tongue inside. your eyes nearly rolled back at the unexpected sensation as the older boy sucked at your sensitive spot. your sweet-and-sour taste mixed with the lingering strawberry, a contrast he clearly enjoyed.

instead of using his long fingers, satoru chose the lollipop — first rubbing it between your folds, then slowly pushing it fully inside your dripping cunt. you moaned at the sensation, gripping naoya’s thigh and squeezing lightly.

the blond barely suppressed a grunt; the feeling of you sucking him made him want to spill down your throat quickly, and your tight grip on his thigh only drove him further. your sweet pink lips glistened — not with gloss this time, but with sticky saliva and his salty nectar. you held his gaze, watching as his eyes turned hazy with ecstasy. you loved that look on his face — he appeared more submissive than ever before.

you sighed as satoru sucked and moved the strawberry lollipop inside your slick hole, his motions growing faster, your thighs beginning to tremble. his long tongue lapped at you, collecting the sweet fluid that spilled from your cunt. you felt yourself nearing the edge — and you knew naoya was too.

his cock twitched, his grip on your hair becoming more possessive yet careful enough not to hurt you. your hand pumped him faster, your mouth sliding along his length with practised speed despite the ache in your jaw. with one final stroke of your hand, you felt his milky seed flood your throat — and with that sensation, you climaxed as well, releasing in pleasure against satoru’s face.

for naoya, it felt like a dream — his fantasies and quiet hopes turned real. his cheeks flushed red, hot breaths leaving his lips as he stared at your smaller figure kneeling before him, his release in your throat and the sweet lollipop still buried in your pink cunt.

you swallowed the salty liquid, pulling his cock from your mouth, stray drops trailing down onto your sweat-slicked breasts that rose and fell with each deep breath. seeing your lewd expression, the eighteen-year-old could have sworn he was hardening again.

“wow, that was hot,” the white-haired man remarked, rising from his knees and wiping his face with his hand. he laughed at his rival’s flushed expression before strolling towards your bed, unconcerned with your breathless state.

satoru sat down on the soft mattress, noticing the little basket where you kept your sweets... and more than that. he reached inside, carelessly rummaging through the rustling wrappers until he found what he was looking for — a condom in pink packaging. the colour blended in with the sweets, exactly as you had intended.

“foreplay’s over,” the albino broke the silence, tossing the condom at the blond.

naoya stepped back from your panting form — you still kneeling between his legs — then grabbed your forearm and pulled you onto the bed, positioning you on all fours. he rolled the condom over his dripping cock, stroking it a few times. the older boy watched without hurry. he unzipped his trousers, revealing the prominent bulge beneath.

looking ahead at gojo, you felt the blond press his cock to your clit, rubbing it several times between your swollen, slick lips, still sensitive from your earlier orgasm. with one thrust, he pushed inside your pink cunt, drawing a sharp gasp from you as your fists clenched into the soft sheets. naoya didn’t wait for you to adjust, driving his hard length deep into you, his hips slamming rhythmically against your arse.

you lowered your head, eyes clouded, unable — and unwilling — to hide your moans of pleasure. after all, you were being worshipped by two strong men at once. your flushed cheeks, quick breaths, and ecstasy-filled gaze were impossible to conceal. suddenly, you felt a warm touch beneath your chin as satoru tilted your head up slightly until you met his piercing stare. you felt intoxicated looking into his eyes — especially without his usual sunglasses concealing them.

“you’re getting fucked from both sides, doll,” he whispered, encouraging you to take his erect cock into your mouth — and you didn’t dare refuse, because you were a good girl. you kissed the head gently before sliding down to suck him properly, your delicate hands stroking his shaft. you felt naoya’s grip on your hips grow more possessive, red marks forming beneath his fingers. his balls slapped loudly against your skin, the obscene sound blending with your moans and the wet noises of your mouth.

he bit his lip hard to suppress his own groans. ignoring gojo, he leaned over you, wrapping an arm around your soft stomach, pressing his damp forehead to your back as he listened to your muffled whimpers around the albino’s cock. he felt himself nearing again, his hips pounding into you faster and harder, drawing broken gasps from your lips.

and fuck — he wished he could fill you with his sticky seed, mark you as his.

after all, you had been his «bimbo girl» for three years.

▎genre: +18

naoya loves stroking your soft, chubby tummy — especially when he’s fucking you from behind with practised precision, when you’re already moaning with pleasure, overstimulated and breathless, yet willingly begging him not to stop. you want more, and he knows it. he smacks your full, juicy arse, listening to your needy whimpers, which only make him crave filling your sweet, pink cunt with his thick sperm. and when you moan his name in bliss, he wraps his muscular arms around you from behind, pulling you back against him, his warm hands settling possessively on your soft belly.

as his dick hits your g-spot again and again, his hands begin to move slowly, soothing circles, squeezing your stomach gently but deliberately. and you have no fucking idea how badly he wants to get you pregnant — to watch your belly grow month by month, swollen with his child. to show everyone exactly who you belong to, who that sweet, needy cunt truly belongs to.

and when he finally reaches his goal, he finds himself staring at his wife’s pregnant belly — round, delicate, protecting his child. you barely notice his quiet, possessive presence until he places his large hand on your stomach, lifting the hem of your shirt and caressing your bare skin. the warmth of your body contrasts with the coolness of his fingertips, sending shivers across your skin — but his touch feels far too good for you to stop him.

and in that very moment, the baby in your womb makes itself known, a gentle kick right beneath his hand — and oh, he cannot even begin to explain how much he loves your belly.

ᴀᴅʀɪᴀɴ ᴄʜᴀꜱᴇ x ᴅᴇᴀᴅᴘᴏᴏʟ¡ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

꩜ .ᐟ The pounding of your own heart was the only sound reaching your ears; it wasn´t caused by fear of losing your life, but by the adrenaline that had been coursing through you since the very beginning of the situation you´d found yourself in. The blood of one of the ARGUS operatives seeped through your mask, staining the surface of your eye a deep scarlet.

“Shit,” you groaned, rubbing your burning eye through the thin fabric of the mask. The pain in your eye would probably have mattered more to you than the fact that you were the main cause of a massive road pileup — and on top of that, you were surrounded on all sides by soldiers working for ARGUS.

You unsteadily leaned against two wrecked cars, which were the only barrier offering you any kind of cover from the watchful eyes of the soldiers aiming their guns at you.

Your knees buckled as you grabbed your right side, blood steadily streaming down; three fresh gunshot wounds were already beginning to heal efficiently. You exhaled loudly, processing the reckless thoughts raging through your mind like an angry storm. You quickly reached for the glock in your holster, counting the remaining bullets — exactly twelve.

Not enough.

You cursed under your breath.

Fuck Dopinder and the weapons backpack you´d left behind in his taxi. You peeked slightly out from behind the car, but before you could make another move, shots rang out.

“Fuck! Guys, I don´t usually say this, but not so aggressive!” You yelled, as if that would magically make them leave you alone. Your hand moved to a small pocket in your suit, which was now completely shredded and soaked with blood. You pulled out a white handkerchief, letting out a light laugh at the ridiculous situation you were in.

“Don´t shoot! I surrender!” You shouted, waving the handkerchief high enough for everyone to see. Silence followed, then a loud order telling you to come out with your hands raised.

Your gaze fell on a grenade lying right next to your leg, a wide smile painted across its surface. Without a second thought, you grabbed it and stood up straight. Slowly, you stepped out from behind the car, one hand hidden behind your back while the other was raised high in a gesture of surrender.

“Both hands up!” Someone shouted, causing every barrel to immediately lock onto you. You laughed, tapping your open palm against your forehead a few times.

“Oh right. Silly me.”

You slipped your raised hand behind your back, deftly pulling the pin from the grenade. But before you could make another move, a loud, single gunshot rang out.

The bullet hit you straight in the stomach.

“And of course, fucking Waller,” you muttered, feeling dizzy and overwhelmingly sleepy. The soldiers suddenly rushed toward you, and once they were close enough, the grenade slipped from your hand with a quiet clink, rolling almost shamelessly in their direction.

Drowsiness clouded your mind, your vision blurring completely. The sedative round took effect immediately — you felt oddly relaxed, the noise and shouting fading into broken whispers. You stumbled backward, completely losing your balance, and just as your eyes finally closed, you heard a muffled explosion.

You squeezed your eyes shut when the harsh fluorescent lights flooded the room. You groaned, exhaustion still clouding your mind. With your head hanging low, you stared at your black combat boots, the leather peeling from the explosion earlier. There was barely anything left of your suit either — shredded scraps covered your chest and lower half.

Your ears rang as a sudden wave of nausea hit you — you felt like you were massively hungover, fighting the urge to puke. You swallowed loudly, lifting your gaze, and that´s when you saw her.

Amanda Waller.

She stood there in all her glory, leaning against the wall not far from you. Her dark eyes bored straight into your soul, making one thing painfully clear — you belonged to her like a dog on a leash.

“Finally awake, Miss Pool,” she spoke first, her voice just as flat and lifeless as it had been five months ago.

You narrowed your eyes, forcing an overly fake smile. You leaned forward toward her, and the moment you tried to move your arms, something stopped you.

Handcuffs.

You were chained to the chair.

“Oh, come on! You said you´d let us go — all of us,” you grimaced. After the Corto Maltese mission, Waller had promised that the entire Task Force X would be free.

With casual indifference, she took a few steps and stopped right in front of you. Without caring about your comfort, she grabbed your jaw tightly and forced your head up to face her.

Only then did you realize — you weren´t wearing your mask.

“Mass murdering criminals in Gotham and attempting to kill Batman is one thing,” she said calmly.

“—but killing my people is another. Even half–conscious, you still manage to cause chaos.” Her shallow voice sent a chill down your spine.

Your smile only widened.

You knew damn well this cunning woman wanted something from you.

“Oh no, no. You forgot to mention it was self–defense,” you shot back.

“Though I could say it was all in the name of peace — just like that dickhead. He uses that dumb excuse to do whatever the fuck he wants.” You laughed, though your grin faltered when Waller stepped behind you and placed her hand on the back of your head. Her cold touch reminded you instantly of the bomb embedded there.

“Oh,” you breathed, tilting your head slightly to look at her. Sure, you were practically immortal — but having your brain blown to pieces would definitely kill you.

“I assume you understand what this means,” she continued:

“Technically, I have complete power over you. I know who you are — and I can kill you easily.”

You knew.

You were nothing but a puppet in her hands, ready to dance on command. Still, she wasn´t the only one who knew your identity. Others had seen your face — Task Force X members who´d been on the mission with you, and ARGUS agents stationed on Corto Maltese that day.

“I could kill you,” Waller said.

“—but I won´t. You´ll complete one last mission. If you refuse, you go back to Belle Reve.”

“Belle Reve ~ sweet dreams my ass,” you scoffed.

“And if I agree, what do I get out of it?” You narrowed your eyes expectantly.

“Freedom.”

You raised a brow, about to speak, but she cut you off.

“Your records and criminal past as an anti–heroic vigilante will be erased permanently. It´ll be as if you´re starting over. I´ll forget who you are — and you´ll be rid of this.”

She gestured to the back of your head.

You knew damn well it was the better deal. But if Waller was this desperate to have you on the mission, it meant only one thing — it was extremely, if not fatally, dangerous.

You smiled crookedly at the thought. At least you´d finally stop being her tool.

“You know, it´s kinda sad,” you said casually, tilting your head to look at her. “Feels like you just wanna get rid of me—”

She didn´t respond. Just stared.

“—but fuck it. I´d love another chance to punch Batman, so I´m in.”

You shrugged, waiting for her next move.

She sighed and headed toward the door, the sound of her heels echoing through the room. You watched as she opened it and motioned for someone to come in.

With a grin on your face, you stared at the doorway — and when two people entered, you locked eyes with a blonde woman. You tilted your head slightly, then shifted your gaze to the bearded man beside her, who immediately looked away the second you met his eyes.

“Jesus,” he muttered, covering his eyes with his hand.

You frowned at his reaction — then it hit you. Your suit was barely covering anything at the moment. You laughed at him, tossing out a teasing remark.

“Dude, I had the same reaction when I saw Batman´s face.”

Yeah. You clearly didn´t like Batman.

The blonde woman rolled her eyes at both her friend´s awkwardness and your comment. She knew you were talkative, but she definitely hadn´t expected you to be joining them on this mission. When Waller announced the team for «Project Butterfly», she nearly lost her mind.

It was a punishment — for standing up to Amanda during the Corto Maltese mission.

That was when Harcourt had first seen your face.

A face that, for some unknown reason, had been carefully hidden from almost everyone. You didn´t look like someone capable of killing anyone.

“You´ll be joining Harcourt and Economos,” Waller announced, crossing her arms. “On the way to Evergreen, they´ll fill you in on everything you need to know about Project Butterfly. You´ll also meet the others involved — and pick up Peacemaker from the hospital.”

Her words made your eyes and mouth fly open.

“WHAT?! HE´S ALIVE?!”

Economos peeked at you through his fingers, then glanced at his irritated blonde friend. They both seemed to share the same thought — putting you and Christopher Smith on the same team couldn´t possibly end without chaos.

After all, they´d both worked with you.

A talkative killer and a man with zero restraint when it came to doing anything in the name of peace.

That´s how they saw you.

But none of you knew yet that this mission would change everything in your lives.