prevalence

In the third year, you forgot to submit a "visual application" and they denied you once again. By this time you were starting to think the program was a scam and that there were just some creepy men behind the whole thing—tricking monster-fucking women into submitting intimate details about themself just for the hell of it.

It's not until this year that you realize this program was very much not a scam at all.

Your final attempt at getting into it was a success, resulting in that previously mentioned email that your eyes happily skimmed over. That, and you also had two other good friends who apparently had gotten accepted into it years ago, only deciding to spill the details of their experience now that you've been accepted.

"I had a great time when I went. Whatever you're thinking it is, I hope you know it's ten times better!" Yuki claimed. Apparently, she slept with some hybrid-wolf guy?

"No because I was actually upset they didn't send that one guy to me, y'know the one on the posters with the tentacles?" Your dearest Utahime had ranted. She got stuck with some dude with more eyes than arms—six to be exact—and evidently that turned her off from the whole experience.

Not that she didn’t go back a few times afterwards, though…

"Well, at least your monster had a face. I got a tentacle man but fuck, he was kinda boring since I was looking at a blank face the whole time." Your last acquaintance hummed in response to the previous statement.

There was a lot of information to take in and yet you were bright-eyed ‘n beaming with excitement upon listening to every little detail. This program asked its recruits for so much prior to acceptance due to the various things that could go oh-so-wrong.

After all, you were required to sign a waiver that said something about being okay with these tests possibly resulting in the loss of your own life. It was scary, sure. But you weren’t exactly thinking with your head whenever S.W.A.M. was involved.

Why would you be? One look at some hot, long-haired vampire who seemed to be the face of the program along with some other dark-haired brute with a freakishly long tongue, and your cunt was leading every decision of yours.

Not to mention the fact that this program housed all sorts of different types of monsters. Many were science experiments gone wrong and some were from entirely different worlds. And now that you were accepted into it, you'd finally be able to meet and sleep with one of them!

What could possibly go wrong?

——

"...Most have said it best if you follow their lead," Dr. Nanami Kento was in the middle of droning about while he led you to your designated "room of pleasure" or whatever he called it. "Some of our specimens here can be a bit... much to deal with, and if you'd like to walk out with the best experience possible, it is always advised that you let them do their thing and simply be compliant."

The two of you had been walking some lengthy hallway for what felt like hours now. Nanami was the first person to greet you upon your entry to the facility—which very much rivaled a prison on the outside, but looked to be a mix of a hospital and a hotel within its interior—and while you swear he's been walking you in circles, he's also explained to you a long list of rules that you'll need to keep in mind before you're to meet your monster.

All experiences in S.W.A.M. are unique and different. Even if two different people have slept with or been bred by the same monster, they both leave the program with two entirely dissimilar stories. 

Along the walk to your designated room, you passed by many others that gave you glimpses of how many differing species occupied this place. There were definitely a lot that looked nowhere near human, but there were also a considerable amount that seemed to be completely human.

Which Nanami clarified for you that they were certainly not.

At some point, the two of you had reached an elevator and after swiftly stepping onto it, Nanami calmly pressed the button for the twelfth floor. During this, you took notice of how some floors had names attached to them. The sixth floor was for hybrids, the eleventh floor was for the undead, and somewhere around the fifteenth floor included spirits and fae.

You naturally found all of this to be most fascinating, but in doing so, you missed the name of the floor the two of you were heading towards.

By the time the elevator creaked its way there, Nanami had let you step out first and then proceeded to remain in place with a stoic smile stitched across his face.

You swirled around with wide eyes, "Uh-, Dr. Nanami? Are you not coming with m—"

"Good luck," was the only, and last thing the man said to you before rapidly mashing at the lobby-level button to his right.

Then the doors shut in your face.

You stared at your slanted, shimmery reflection for a long moment before sighing and turning back around to the short hallway. There were three doors; one on the left that said Simurian, another on the right that read King of Curses, and the last one set in the middle which held your name on it.

You think your eyes stretched open impossibly wider upon seeing it.

Did all people get their own room like this? What the heck is a Simurian and just who the hell is the King of Curses? Why did Dr. Nanami leave you like that?? And what did he mean by good luck???

You were only here for sexualized testing, right?

Pushing all these questions of yours aside, you paced forward slowly. 

With every step you took, you couldn't help but notice how the door to your left seemed to be nearly ten feet tall. Over on your right, that door looked to be a few inches shorter but much wider.

Who or whatever occupied either room must have been freakishly huge. The thought of which makes you shudder before you finally slip into the human-sized door set for you.

Inside the room, you were met with a massive area. Everything looked as though it were twice your size—the bed, a table you end up walking past, a... a cuck chair(?), and a bunch of other stuff you didn't quite familiarize yourself with.

What caught your attention the quickest—aside from the large chair near the bed—was a file that was laid out on the only normally sized piece of furniture in the room, a dresser.

Curiously, you swiped up said file and were quick to open it. One of the papers inside fluttered out and elsewhere as soon as you did so, but you didn't pay it any mind since the first page inside captured all of your attention rather quickly.

It was a profile for someone named Dabura Karaba.

A picture of the man-, or, alien—as you come to know within the next few seconds of reading—sits up near the top left corner of the page.

There's a shit ton of information about him plastered all throughout the rest of the paper, going on to extend towards the back of it, and even a few more pages afterwards. But you skim over the majority of that just to read the details listed about his genitals.

Gross Morphology: The phallus is retractile, measuring at approximately 7-9 cm in total length (base to tip), with a circumference of 6.5 cm at mid-shaft—when flaccid. The organ falls under the spectrum of beige in color [HEX: #c2b6a1 for reference — intermittently a hue lighter or darker dependent on lighting], with twisting veins that pulse at roughly 20 bpm—presumably reflecting circulatory activity. The hemisphere of the glans measure at about 5.7 cm in width, and secretes a viscous, petroleum-like lubricant (pH 7.5-8.0). The membrane is. . .

You think your mouth is watering by the time your eyes return to their skimming, one too many scientific words printed out across the paper for your concern.

That is, until the word erectile seems to stand out in its bold letters before you.

Erectile Dynamics: Upon arousal (typically triggered by pheromonal, faint tactile, or visual stimuli) the glans reaches hues up to HEX: #7f737c — mimicking that of a flushed state. The phallus has then been measured to broaden rapidly, extending the full, non-curved, erect length of—

Unfortunately for your curiosity, your reading is cut quite short when the loud sound of something thumping against the wall causes you to flinch and redirect your eyes elsewhere. Though, you’re pretty sure you saw double digits following those last few words you read.

When you turn, you're met with the same being you've been reading about, who's currently busy with silently cursing your tiny doorframe for hitting the left tip of one of his horns. The alien is hunched over when your eyes make contact with him, but that changes within the next coming seconds as he steps into the room and quietly shuts the door behind him—clearly unaware of your gaze being on him.

The moment his eyes—all three of them—glide your way, you flinch like an idiot and let that document drop out of your hands as if you weren't supposed to be touching it in the first place.

Dabura is a brooding-looking creature, to say the least. He's got a great deal of staggering feet to his height, easily exceeding some inches over seven feet tall. You believe you feel a short shot of pain in your neck just from the angle of which it takes to peer up at his face.

Despite being an alien, he carries a humanoid frame and possess quite the lean, but well defined, musculature. The three eyes he had slipping along your build all carry irises with an redish-orange color in them. There's a pair of long, curved horns—that you'd love to hold onto later—which extend upwards 'n outwards from the side of his head.

You're gulping down a thick sum of nerves as your gaze travels to the expanse of his body in sync with the way he was doing to you. There's a plethora of dark markings plastered all along his neck, arms, and shoulders, which form these uneven, asymmetrical patterns out across his smooth skin. That, and there's even another marking encircling that third eye of his.

Which you note hasn't moved from your face from the moment he noticed you despite his other pair having carried right along...

Your ogling comes to an end just as you're admiring his elongated earlobes from where you are, catching how they run down to his abdomen and are adorned with more piercings than you can count.

"I presume you're the human I am to mate with?" His voice sends a cold chill straight down your spine. Not because it was scary or anything, but simply due to the fact that no human could ever possess such a soothingly deep baritone to their words in the way he does.

You gulp loudly enough for him to hear and the sound makes his head tip over just an inch as if curiosity has struck him. "Y-Yes," The first stutter out of your mouth already makes you want to find the nearest window and ju-, "That would be me, yes. Which means you must be..." You halfway saved yourself of embarrassment until you realized you'd dropped that file with all his information and somehow managed to forget his name already.

Shit, this whole thing is going poorly already and neither of you have even taken your clothes off!

Scrambling to the papers that fell earlier, you hurry to swipe some of them up in search for a name and don't even notice the way he stalks over to assist you until a large hand comes into view just above yours. Then you lift your chin up and the alien is crouched right in front of you while looking down.

Up close, you realize just how intimidating he really is. It was bad before when he was a few steps away from you but now that he's up close, you think you can feel your heart beat pounding against your ears as if to give you an audio representation of your climbing anxiety.

You'd spent four years trying to get into this program and now you finally had a monster (technically alien) in front of you but the only thing you could feel was fear instead of excitement. What a bummer—

"Dabura," The alien murmurs in a contrastingly gentle tone, bass consuming all bits of space in between the two of you and weirdly settling down that anxiousness of yours to replace it with something much warmer. Then all his eyes flick up to meet with yours again and his demeanor is strictly calming as he hums, "There's no need for papers to tell you my name when I am right in front of you."

You blink, letting the word, "Right," tumble out of your mouth all softly. Snapping out of your flustered stupor, you look upwards and notice the faintest scuff on his left horn—which reminds you of the noise you heard when he first came in. Then you redirect your hand to reach up towards it, "Did you hit your horn on the way in?"

"I did,” Dabura cuts off your traveling hand by grabbing onto your wrist and holding it a few inches away from their destination.

"Are they sensitive to touch?" You ask harmlessly, batting your lashes at the creature.

His expression falls impossibly duller, eyelids lowering as an unamused frown takes over his lips, "Every human asks me this, no."

You immediately raise a brow as if unconvinced, "If that's true then,” He sees the way your fingers wiggle before you go to move your other hand, “May I-"

His free hand shoots over to grasp at your other one as his eyes widen slightly. Grumbling, "No." with more firmness to it in hopes you’ll stop with your attempts at feeling on his horns.

Then you pop a pout, "You're no funnnn.”

The alien stares at you for a long moment, taking you all in just as you’d done earlier. You’re far prettier than any other human he’d been sent so far, and he feels his heart doing something weird each time you make a surprising advance to touch him.

But even so, he’s not about to let you get into something you clearly don’t quite understand yet. "Unless you should like to begin mating now," Dabura explains lowly, steadily moving your hands down and towards your lap, "No, you cannot touch them."

A smug smile breaks out onto your face and it makes his brows twitch. He watches as you quickly break out of that momentarily timid shell, "Oh, so they are sensitive!" you exclaim.

"They are not, they just-,” He cuts himself off and shuts his eyes, moving to pinch the bridge of his nose as he exhales strongly, “Human."

Your eyes roll, "I have a name too, y’know-"

"Do you wish to be bred against every available surface in this room?" Dabura interrupts, hoping to catch you off guard just as his initial appearance did.

Unfortunately for him, he’s in the presence of the world’s most eager human.

"Do you want my honest answer to that?" You ask with an unfairly cute grin on your face.

"I-,” He chokes whilst returning his eyes to you, “Pardon?" You act like you didn’t say anything unordinary and blink innocently. In which he’s left to let his shoulders slump a bit and begrudgingly say, "I am curious, yes. Answer me honestly."

That’s when you place your hands on the floor and lean closer to him rather cat-like, causing him to lean back out of shock and nearly fall completely on his ass despite being almost twice your size. "I would love if you fucked me against every surface,” You tell him with this little sparkle noticeable in your eyes.

In the time Dabura has been apart of the program, he can’t say he’s ever encountered a human quite as… enthusiastic as you. Plus, your sentence came out far more vulgar than his had—something he takes note of.

Which is exactly why his next words leaves him slowly, tone etched with concern, "...You appeared frightened by me just mere minutes ago."

"Yes,” You agree before looking down at the way he’s managed to lean back enough to nearly be positioned under you, “And now I'm aroused—in some places this is could even be called scarousal."

Dabura feels like you’re more of the foreign creature in the room as opposed to himself by this point. Letting his brows scrunch up, "I don't believe that's a word-"

"You're an alien, you only know so much,” You hush out in this purring tone that catches him off guard. Then you lift one of your hands and move to tap your index against one of his many, many abs.

His breath hitches and his lips twitch—threatening to smile from the experience of being teased by you.

Dabura’s got two eyes focused on the soft taps of your finger and the remaining one fixated on your face as he utters, "I like you, human."

"Thank you, alien.” You reply, sliding your finger over and tracing a few of his abs just to smile at the way he flinches under your touch. God, for a creature much larger than you and all intimidating, he sure was sensitive to the smallest of things. “I think I like you t-"

"May I taste you?" Dabura requests, throwing your entire focus off the rails.

"What?" You choke as an immediate throb feels out for your attention from in between your legs. Then you remember that he’s still a different species, and find yourself instinctively pulling away cautiously, "You mean like, sexually, right…?”

He snorts and your heart skips a beat at the realization he finds you most amusing when you’re confused. "Unless you have a preference for being devoured in a literal sense,” Dabura reaches for your wrist once more and pulls you closer, letting your palm meet his abdomen as he husks out a careful, “Yes."

"O-Oh. I mean, if that’s the case then of course." You agree with that same twinkle from earlier returning into your irises. Though, Dabura doesn’t miss the way your expressions vocalize your thoughts before your mouth does, "Wait, Dr. Nanami mentioned something about this testing being primarily for breeding.” You recall, moving away from the alien to stand up. “Eating me out will won’t really have anything to do with-"

"It will help." He insists as he too shifts around to bring himself up onto his feet. Then he gives you this look that has your thighs drawing nearer to one another, "And I'm sure that doctor of yours also mentioned how you are to listen to me."

You can’t exactly refute that, "Well-, wait, how do you know that?!"

Rolling his eyes only once as if he’d grown tired of this useless back and forth, Dabura presses forward and tutts, "You worry yourself with the wrong things."

After which, and before you have a moment to debate with him even further, he’s bent down to swoop you up ‘n over his shoulder as if you weigh nothing! One arm is tightly set around your thighs and the other comes over to place a hand against the curve of your ass to support you.

You feel all warm again as you realize how high up in the air he has you, considering how tall the alien stands. 

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean-,” You’re cut off within the next few seconds by your body flopping down onto the bed carelessly, a soft oof lofting out of your mouth instead. You then shoot your inquisitive gaze upwards again and open your mouth to question him further, but find yourself rather speechless from the angle of which he now stands.

It was one thing to see him from afar, another to see him practically beneath you, but above you? Fuck, you couldn’t even help the way your thighs clamped shut—arousal daring to damp itself at your core.

Dabura is looking down at you for a quiet moment before drawing a hand up to his chin in thought and muttering, “Perhaps I should have tossed you the other way…” 

You know you’re supposed to be following his lead but it’s a bit difficult to do that when all he’s said is that he wanted to taste you, “Huh? What are you-“

“Flip over,” He orders flatly, barely adding on, “Please,” after noticing the way you’d begun to glare at him. 

You’re slow to do exactly that, and feel awkward in your every move—being watched so closely by some alien you’ve hardly gotten to know wasn’t exactly what you were expecting from this whole thing. You don’t know why, but you thought this process would be a lot more-

“I’m going to undress you now,” Dabura warns, his hands having met with the fabric at your hips.

You freeze before regaining your thoughts and then glancing back at him from over your shoulder, “I really don’t think this part is necessary for the-“

He interrupts you with an unintentionally rude sigh—as if your extra communication is the problem here and not his lack thereof—and moves his hand to the center of your back before applying pressure. The weight from his palm forces your upper half down against the mattress. Your face smushes right into the sheets and you let out a frustrated grumble in response to his curtness. 

Then you could almost hear the smile in his words as he asks, “Is this the best you can arch?”

“Excuse me?” Your voice is muffled but he could make out what you were saying quite clearly.

Grinning to himself, “Your arch,” He repeats, biting back a snort, “Is this as good as it gets?”

You couldn’t tell if he was taunting you like this on purpose just to get a rise out of you or if he was being sincere but either way it was starting to annoy you. So much so that you lift your head a little and scoff, “How about I arch my foot into your a-ah! Hey,” Unfortunately, your words whisk out into a breathy sound rivaling a moan.

Dabura had deduced that right then, in the middle of your complaints, it’d be best to swipe his thumb against your crotch—bringing friction to your cunt through the few layers of fabric.

“For a human so intuitive, and uncooperative, you are quite wet.” He points out—making you furrow your brows as you wonder how the hell he figured that out from only one little touch. It’s not like you were leaking through your-, “What caused this, I wonder.”

With a bratty frown on your face, you pull your hips away from him slightly—not to reject his touches but simply to torture his desire to do so, “Not you, asshole.”

“Mmh.” Dabura is fully amused now. He’d never encountered a human quite like you. “Seems I forgot to add liar into that list,” He says playfully.

You gasp, “Excuse me-“

Your pants getting tugged down swiftly enough to cut your words off again, cool air slapping against your naked skin rather quickly.

“My, my…” Dabura gawks lightly. “You know, I’ve never tasted human pussy before.”

“Eh?” Your head pops up from the sheets and you look back over your shoulder, “You mean you’ve never given oral before?”

Almost sheepishly and in a stiffened manner, the alien shakes his head. “Many denied me from doing so, but you… You seemed so excited to mate with me, I only assumed you’d enjoy this just as much as I would.”

“Well-“

“And considering how…” The thick of his thumb presses in between your folds, rubbing against the fabric of your panties sluggishly, “…wet you are,” Then Dabura releases a parched sigh. “Why, it’d be improper of me not to get a taste. This entire program is based on sexualized testing, yes? Perhaps your cunt will take my seed best after being thoroughly licked.”

Talk about giving you fancy excuses just to eat you out…

You suppose you couldn’t blame him for wanting to plaster his tongue in your juices—after all, he did just say no other human allowed him to do so. Now, that does make you curious since Nanami specifically informed you to listen to your monster’s whims.

Perhaps he’d only done so based on this one’s past experiences? And that ‘good luck’ he gave you… what was that all about?

——

None of these questions of yours get answered anytime soon but they’re forgotten rather quickly with the way Dabura’s tongue had so feverishly met your twitching folds from beyond the layer of cotton that lay in the way.

You suppose he didn’t care much to move them aside just yet, as he seemed to enjoy toying with the material and liked the way you squirmed whenever he sucked it into his mouth—the raw feel of his plush lips grazing your bare cunt.

Even his decision to eat you out from the back left you curious. Hell, everything this damn alien did had you doused in concern. But of course, he hadn’t spared you a moment to dwell on any of them.

Especially not with those distracting grunts he let out by the time he finally peeled your panties down your clammy legs—hands gripped tightly onto your thighs to keep you spread open at the perfect angle for his tongue to lap inward.

“Mmmgh, yesyes,” Dabura groans, “Such a-, mmh, tasty lil’ thing.” His words slathered in between your pussy lips at varying angles, adding to each flicking movement of his tongue. 

“Dabura,” You moan just as his mouth plucks away for a split second long enough for his teeth to bare. Then angles down just to nibble at your inner thigh for no direct reason other than wanting to feel you squirm against his hands. “I-I still don’t think you’re supposed to-, ngh!”

Again, you’re cut off by his actions—his mouth having returned to your poor, leaky entrance to swab over with his tongue. Then his hands pried your legs further open in an attempt at feeling your labia peel apart even more, tongue hot ‘n aching for more and more of your slick. You’re unsure of what exactly would satiate the alien’s thirst for you when he was already thrusting the majority of his oral muscle in between your walls.

Humans didn’t eat pussy like this, naturally. Not only was there a foreign movement to the way he fucked his tongue into you but the added factor of Dabura being clueless with his every move had you dazed. You wanted to tease him for the way he’d waddle his tongue around your clit for a second too short but he always seemed to make up for it by wiggling it deeeep into your pussy directly after.

It was almost like he wanted to smear your own taste around.

“What was that?” Dabura eventually mumbled against your sappy folds, letting you gush against his lips as he spoke, “I couldn’t hear you over my talkative girl down here.”

Your legs twitch as if to close but it’s to no avail. All while your voice has pitched off into whine after whine, “Y-Your?”

The alien pulled his mouth off of you after one more suctioning pop! and then sported yet another tiny grin, “Whilst you’re in this room, yes.” A fat glop of spit spanked out across your hole next and he moves his thumb to fuck his salive inward, “Mine.”

“O-Oh.” Your jaw flails open some and you feel yourself drooling from the instant he starts feeding his thumb to your cunt. It’s only one finger but fuck, nothing could quite compare to it.

Dabura tipped his head aside as he twirled his thumb around your insides, “You seemed to like that,” He pointed out hotly, breaths fanning into your skin, “Being called mine.“

Your hips did that thing they did earlier when you attempted to flee from the pleasure he’d provided for you, “I do, but-, hahh.. none of this is important for the-“

“Oh hushhh, woman,” Dabura drawls out, fully bored of hearing you remind him about how eating you out has nothing to do with breeding you. “…Allow me to have this in peace, won’t you?” He pulls his thumb out of your cunt and spits once again before tapping at the saliva—mimicking a spanking motion against your hole.

After that, you give up on your arguments. Partially because Dabura decides to replace his thumb with two stretching fingers, and also because he seems to realize he can stimulate you rather greatly with only one hand—digits lodged neatly into your entrance while his thumb runs across your glossy clit.

Of which he’s taken quite the liking to. One could even say he grows fond of the gorgeous bundle of nerves, drawing all sorts of shapes around it and loving the feel of it jumping whenever his other fingers curl into that spot against your inner walls you adore so much.

You’re brought to not one, not two, and most certainly more than three orgasms from his fingers alone. And which each one, you try—you really, really do—to remind him of what you’re here for, but he ignores you each time.

Eventually Dabura finds himself in this drunken state, having his slicked fingers biting into your skin while he devours your cunt sluggishly with his whorish mouth.

Moaning, “S’good,” as his tongue tickles in somewhere deeper than it had previously—almost as if the damn thing were growing! “So sloppy, fuuuck,” The last curse exits his throat in a whine and by this point his hips have been eagerly bucking against the massive bed. “I love the way your pussy feels on my tongue,” He babbles, grinding his hard cock down against the mattress—rocking the entirety of the furniture in the process. 

Now, even though you’ve been occupied with having your cunt licked to utter numbness, you couldn’t ignore how needy Dabura’s other appendages seemed to be for you.

You knew the moment he got hard based on how much he adjusted himself against the bed. It was like the erection he carried in between those loose fabrics of his was a hindrance to him—oozing in precum excessively from the plump head and aching to dive in between the same lips he’d been lapping at.

His tongue is kissing at your clit right when he’s about to cum from doing so, but his orgasm is cut embarrassingly short by the way your room door flings open.

The poor door slams into the wall and Dabura lets out a very adorable yelp of surprise in between your legs.

So much for that intimidating aura of his, huh…

Even so, the sound he lets out, along with his flinching are both disregarded as he focuses back on the task at hand. He’s a little lazier with his feasting since he realizes the two of you have some company now but, again, this doesn’t stop him.

“You greedy fucking alien,” A new voice hoots out deeply, shucking the door away from the wall it slammed into just to shut it properly.

“Mmmnh, Sukuna, you ah-,” Dabura pauses his words to the newly entered monster just to sluuuurp! you right up one more time. A wet, sloppy smile spilt out across his lips, “You must come taste this. It’s like-“

“I know what good pussy tastes like, no need to explain it to me.” Sukuna cuts off, stomping his way into the room with his four eyes all fixated onto you. Pink brows furrowing, “I was a human prior to becoming this,” He adds on with a wave of his hand in Dabura’s direction, “Now move over.”

“…A bossy one, I bet.” The alien breathes out sassily, not paying the man any mind whatsoever and instead playing with the lips of your cunt by pulling them apart and then letting them fall back naturally after lifting his thumb away.

Ignoring his snarky remark, Sukuna ends up shoving poor Dabura out the way and letting his lower set of hands meet the purchase of your hips. One of his upper palms comes down to smack across your ass, making you flinch away from your previously dumbed-out state.

You lift your head and glance back, eyes met with a new creature that causes your jaw to fall open all stupidly. “A-And you are?”

Sukuna seems immediately ticked off by your lack of awareness, shooting a look over to Dabura and ignoring your question entirely. “What have you been up to with our toy so far?”

Toy? Surely he wasn’t talking about you…

“I’ve only licked her a few times,” Dabura claims—knowing all too well that few is beyond an understatement.

Sukuna seems pleased to hear that regaurdless. Sporting a haughty smile, “Have you?” He purrs before gripping onto the fat of your ass and pulling your cheeks apart to steal a glance at how swollen your folds are now, “Mh. That explains why she’s so puffy down here.”

Your face is still resting against the bedsheet but that doesn’t hinder you from mumbling, “M’not puffy…”

“Cute,” Sukuna comments shortly as he speaks as though you weren’t in the room with him. “She’s fucked-out already.”

“M’not,” You huff a bit louder this time, angling your rather wobbly arms to push yourself up on all fours.

You crane your head to get a full look at him, blinking past the blur of pleasurable tears that have built up along your lashline to take all of him in. Now, Sukuna was quite the sight for sore eyes.

While he was a bit shorter than Dabura in height, he surely made up for it in just about everything else. He had dark markings splayed out across his skin just as the alien did—but there was a clear difference in them. He also carried four eyes instead of the three you’d only just grown used to, all of which were red in hue and ever-so-glaring when met with yours.

There was a smirk on his face that never seemed to leave, stretching his pinkened lips out as if every fiber of his being were better-, or greater than you in every way imaginable. You wouldn’t call it smugness per-se, but there was something rather gloating about the way he carried himself. 

You could only see so much of him with the way he was positioned behind you, having taken Dabura’s place entirely and left the alien to lay on the bed somewhere to your left. Even so, you did notice that Sukuna had two of everything except legs.

He had a bulky stature, muscles bulged and stretched out across his limbs. Your eyes felt as though they had little hearts in them upon meeting the mouth stretching across his stomach. It should’ve been grotesque to look at considering the way it moved all freakishly and almost carnally.

The massive tongue would lull out to lather across his lips and you’d get a hint of sharp teeth within your view each time he did so.

Up until that same tongue extended to swipe across just about everything in between your legs. “Oh? Then you wouldn’t mind this,” He’d said in response to your almost forgotten words.

Then you felt the slippery wetness draaag against the backs of your thighs, your jittery-spread pussylips, and even your ass with the way Sukuna took one greedy lick. 

Your eyes bulged out all wide in reaction. The sight of which encouraged him to watch the way your expression contorted up as he focused the rounding tip of his stomach-tongue onto your cunt, bucking in dankly against it.

“Hnngh-, fuck.” You moaned before pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth and letting your back arch again, “W-What is your guys’ obsession with-, ohgod..”

The sweet sound of your voice was drowned out in your own pleasure as Sukuna’s tongue performed the same dances Dabura’s lengthy one had done just a moment ago.

“Poor thing,” Sukuna mocked, pouting at you to mirror the one sewn into your lips, “That dumb alien hasn’t given you any cock yet, has he?”

Your torso ended up falling once again as your hands went grabbing and tugging at the sheets to brace yourself for the full, greedy feel of his tongue. Then you shook your head in response and whimpered something along the lines of no.

Sukuna shot Dabura a look immediately. “Waited for me, didn’t you?” He taunted.

The alien no longer seemed amused and reciprocated Sukuna’s looks with a flat, irritated expression, “No.”

The pink-haired man rolled his eyes. “Mh. No matter, I see why you were occupied here for so long.” His attention returned to you and he found it most pleasing to watch you try to scurry further up the bed in an attempt at escaping that blinding pleasure his dewy tongue was gifting you with. “She is rather tasty.”

Even as you arched and moaned all over the place, you still managed to return to your focus of why you were here in the first place. There was no way you were about to let these two monsters make a pocket pussy out of you and only use their tongues with you!

“Can you just-, mmmph!” It’s quick that you learn Sukuna has even less of a patience than Dabura as one of his many, massive hands come to the back of your skull and push your face into the sheets.

He’s peering down at the way you wiggle your body in response, feeling pleasure begin to overstimulate your every nerve as his tongue invades every spongy spot of yours. “Has she been demanding all this time?” Sukuna asks the alien who seems quite bored now.

Dabura raises his eyebrows, surprised that Sukuna is acknowledging him again, “Yes, I believe she’d like to be bred.” He states, pointing out the obvious.

“Awh, too bad these tests are hardly for a human’s curiosity and primarily for our enjoyment.” The pink-haired man exhales—jerking his tongue back ‘n forth and backkk ‘n forthhh against the entirety of your soddened pussy, clinging to your clit and schlepping it around with his every move.

“Sukuna,” Dabura blinks, his eyes stuck on the motion of the man’s insistent tongue. He almost feels like his own was inadequate in comparison. “I do not believe you’re supposed to-“

Another cry is heard from you and the two are quickly distracted by the way your nails are beginning to tear at the bedsheets. Ah, Sukuna only then realizes that his tongue might just be too much for you after however long Dabura had his own on you.

Leading him to feel bad for you and gesture your way whilst directing his words to the alien at your left, “Hush her up, will you?”

Dabura frowns for the nth time. He didn’t much care to be ordered around by Sukuna like this.

…But that didn’t stop him from listening to each order he was given.

Which is how he ends up with his mouth against yours while Sukuna satisfies his incessant taste for you. 

——

That continued on for… heavens know how long. 

All three of you lose track and the only thing you can recall is the mixed feel of Dabura swallowing up your moans and Sukuna using his stomach mouth to play with your pussy like some toy.

It’s like you were the test subject in the room—not them. They both treated your body as if they’d never felt a human before or something. Which was weird considering the two of them have had their fair share of these tests before.

While Dabura was kissing you, his hands twitched with a need for exploration, soon traveling your body and fondling with your soft breasts. Every part of your body was left either marked or swollen from their many touches or bites.

And you don’t even remember how or when but you believe you were positioned on top of Dabura while Sukuna remained where he was behind you at some point. Because of this tangled position, Dabura was able to wrap his arms around you and keep you perfectly in place as Sukuna rubbed one—of his two—cocks in between the valley of your ass.

Within this position, the alien was beneath you with his own lengthy dick freed from the restricting fabrics of earlier—tugging at his shaft whilst feeling you squirm against him and whimper into his mouth.

That went on until both creatures had painted your stomach and your spine with their seed.

But, that wasn’t even where things really began.

No, no, things started—in your mind—when they let your body roll over from in between theirs and you were left to watch with dazed eyes as Sukuna grabbed at Dabura’s face and tugged him up. Then, erect cocks freed and tapping against one another upon all the movement, the two had exchanged one slow kiss in the name of “sharing your taste”.

You didn’t know what to make of it, really. 

Was it hot? Well, duh. But for the most part you were wondering if this is what both of them had wanted the entire time.

Were you just some ploy in this little game of theirs? Is this what Dr. Nanami had meant when he told you good luck?? Or—

The loud, prominently wet sound of their lips detaching from one another catches your ears as it rings throughout the entire room. When you look at their faces, you note how softened Dabura’s features seem to be. His eyes seem utterly desperate to please as they veer upwards to meet Sukuna’s hardened expression based on the angle of which the two were.

Then Sukuna lifts a hand to wipe away drool from the corner of Dabura’s lips, cracking yet another smirk before looking over to you. “You’ve got my poor alien whipped, human. I’m impressed.”

You stare dumbfoundedly, “Huh?”

Sukuna snorts, “Can’t you see it?” Gripping at Dabura’s chin, he turns his face over for you to look at. “There’s nothing in this head of his aside from you. You should be proud of yourself.”

You chew on your bottom lip again out of fear of saying the wrong thing in response, moving your gaze onto Dabura who is in fact just as whipped as Sukuna described him to be—eyes glazed over with lust and barely wiped away drool staining the side of his mouth.

When you and the alien make eye contact, his pupils seem to dilate and his cock is twitching all over again. He hadn’t the words to describe it, but from the very moment he saw you standing in this room, he was left entranced by you.

Chuckling, Sukuna releases Dabura from his grasp and then pulls away. “I suppose it’s time we give you what you want, yes?”

Now your eyes were lighting up, “Please?”

“Manners, how cute.” Sukuna hums before running a hand through his hair with one hand and motioning for you to follow him with another. “Come, let me place you in the most effective position."

Within the next few minutes, you’re hauled up into a pair of the man’s sizable arms, legs straggled out within his hold as your pussy is left to drip ‘n spill slick out all over the floor. You were a mess but the two monsters accompanying you weren’t fairing any better.

Dabura’s still sat on the bed in a foggy state of arousal, the plummy head of his cock waving in the air as it globed with honeyed plashets of cum. He was sitting there in his own disorder, unable to move until he made eye contact with your unfairly pretty pussy again.

The sheeny gloss from your arousal webbed out ever so beautifully against your lips, hole pulsing softly as it begged to be filled properly. Tongues wouldn’t satisfy you anymore, that much was clear.

Sukuna’s peering over your shoulder as he holds you up like some trophy, “Don’t tell me you’re too pussydrunk to move, alien.” He chastises, “Come breed her with me before she runs out of stamina on us.”

Dabura snaps out of his momentary torpor and staggers up on his feet, quickly looming over the two of you in the next coming seconds. Then he brings a finger to your chin to tip your face further up and his voice is a small whisper, “Tell me something first…”

You bat your damp lashes at him in that same probing manner he’d grown to admire, the sight of which makes his heart feel weird again.

“How exactly did you prepare for this? I’m curious,” He asks.

You’re still hardly lucid so, your voice is at some cockdrunken pitch as words slide out of your throat, “I rode a uh-, t-thirteen inch dildo a couple times,” You explain, giggling in thought shortly after. “Took a while to get used to…”

Sukuna nuzzles into the crook of your neck like a big cat, “And you believe that has properly prepared you for three cocks? Fuck, you’re dumber than I thought—I like that.”

You grumble something short of a curse at him but the sound only makes him smile against your skin. Then Dabura is finally closing the distance between all of you and you feel his tip sloping up against your sex.

Few words are exchanged in the next few moments as the two decide it’s time to finally stuff you full.

The first dick that slides into you is one of Sukuna’s—the lower one—which is absurdly thick as it slots into your gushy hole. Following this is Dabura’s eager cock, which has throbby veins bumping against every crevice of your insides.

By this point you’re being streeeetched all the way the fuck out and think it damn near impossible to fit all three lengths inside you at the same time. One alone was more than enough to have your eyes crossing but two and eventually three?

Oh, you didn’t think you’d be able to feel your legs come next morning.

Though this was of very little concern to you. You came into this program to be bred by monsters and that’s exactly what you were determined to do—no matter how much your poor hole would have to be stretched open in the process.

And it didn’t help that all three cocks just kept bulging and twitching inside you, smooching over one another as they explored the inner depths of your sweet cunt. Something short of a cockdrunk smile was painted across your lips but you couldn’t really feel it.

The only thing you could feel were the three fat dicks wadding their way into you—along with the hot breaths all over both sides of your neck. Then came the gobbets of cum that filled your insides to the brim. So much so that it’d spilt out of your puffed labia and sogged onto the floor beneath the three of you.

They didn’t stop there though.

No, no, your monsters were just as determined as you were so they kept on with their uneven thrusts—Sukuna bucking forward each time Dabura sleethed his hips back, all whilst bouncing you up and down like a true fucktoy.

No other experience could quite compare to how used this one left you feeling, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Their mixed seeds schliiiicked ‘n sloshed around your gummy walls, sure to take after this prolonged session of feral fucking with the excuse of sexualized testing to mask it.

It’s not until you hear Sukuna and Dabura exchanging hushed words that you finally get an answer to at least one of your many questions.

“And if-, shit.. if that doesn’t work…” Sukuna’s steady humming towards the alien, “Dabura..”

“Yes?”

“I shall have to breed you next.”

A loong, awkward silence stretches on uncomfortably before he chokes in response. Batting his lashes, “What.”

perm general tags (1/2):

@navyllll @2kool4skoolll @daxphoriax @gorouenjoyer @blubearxy @wonderfullymickey @iaintblockinnobody @kitassecretgf @nanamitiddiechomper @ohreallyfriend

@withersworld @suguphile @megottheswaskikacooooke @kvsqkiii @yourlocalcatscammer @lucy-lulu @sukubusss @sweetieelilii @lisabelhyhn @serenadesvt

@riameriash @arminseas2 @palanggaaa @makingtimemine @theodoresvalentine @blcknebula @remscreams @jaibunni @a-jazzy-bee

@sktvienna @chloeee20 @naoybby @lanamyersismywife @strwbrrymoonwrites @andhereweareallalone @sindulgent666 @bypanana @valberryboos @breakfastpasty

In fact, he could already sense it, see it. The rocky edges of the small isle. Sharp and shimmering under the pale moonlight, lighted solely by its cold beams and lightnings slashing the enraged sky.

He could see the foam swelling near the ship, with pearly scales appearing here and there, coating the full length of heavy tails.

He could hear the melody, carried by the storm, right towards their ship. Like birds chirping, the glazed sweetness that warmed the shivering hearts of sailors and lulled them into the clutches of deadly creatures.

Choso has never met the sirens, although he had seen them.

The enchanting, nymph-like beings frolic near the seaside, giggling and singing softly as they bathed on the warm rocks. Their skin always shimmered like gold under the warm rays of sunshine, reflecting off the crystal droplets coating their bodies.

The creatures of utmost beauty and lethal nature. Nightmares of every passing ship. One of the few divinities a mortal could actually meet, yet everyone who tried to ogle them from the dense forest, lurking at their gleaming bodies dipping into the sea, would surely end up dead.

But not Choso.

He, somehow, as a simple sailor with only a few foolish things to his name, managed to get close to those mysterious beings. Close enough to smell their skin – the scent of a sweet ocean breeze and sweat, as they soaked in the sun all day. To hear their lovely hums without going absolutely mad, and to cherish them while watching from behind the massive boulders. Big enough to cover his body completely and let him hold dear this special moment.

As myths and legends of forbidden love always go, there was one most enchanting siren, whom the poor sailor couldn't keep his eyes off.

The one, whose tail shimmered the brightest, covered in lovely pinkish scales woven with golden thread. With skin soft as flowery petals, although he never touched it with his own, calloused fingers. With a voice so lovely it lulled him to sleep, whenever he came to the seaside on late, late nights.

When nothing but the gentle waves and low hum of crickets filled the humid air.

He could be more daring. Braver, lurking behind the boulder with his gaze fixed on your body spread out on the sand and the turtles sleeping peacefully near your tail. Cherish the longing melody directed at the moon, as you sang it loudly and clearly, filling Choso's ears with the sweetest ambrosia.

Nights like this were always his favourite. Making his heart swell with a certain pride, as if he were a chosen one. The only one who could hold you dearly in his own, foolish way – never making a step, never saying a word.

But it was enough. He simply didn't need more.

And you… You seemed not to care about him at all.

Even if you sensed his presence, it seemed that this foolish sailor boy was of no danger or harm. As long as he was simply there, lurking from between the trees without sticky hands trying to grab you or your sisters, there was no need to kill him.

And thus, simply because of it, Choso started believing that the heavens had blessed him. Allowed to be the only mortal who could get close to such deadly and mysterious creatures as the daughters of the sea.

But then the storm came as he and his crew crossed the Aegean Sea and aimed for Athens. The journey was long and tricky, yet they finished it time and time again, always without a sweat and with goods delivered on time.

None of them expected the sudden hurricane, which raised the crystal waves to meters high and swelled beneath their ship. But even this would be manageable. At some point, the waters would calm down, and Choso with his crew would find their way to the shore.

Now, however, with the devilish melody slipping warmly into his men's minds, Choso knew that it was over. For the sirens' voice was more treacherous than Poseidon's wrath. A spell of the most unkind sort, luring the foolish man into their warm, open arms, only to sink their teeth deep into the flesh.

With fifty men on the ship, there was no chance for Choso to save everyone. Nevertheless, he needed to try.

"Close your ears," his shout tried to rip itself through the eruption of clashing waves. "The sirens are here, close your ears! Don't listen to them!"

His men started to panic, with low, frightened tremblings filling the drenched deck.

"Sirens? How is it possible?"

"Dear Gods, save us!"

"What Gods? No one will help us! That's it, we're done here!"

The terror grew as the haunting melody sharpened and became more distinct, as if a dozen or so sirens circled the ship. Choso stood on the deck, watching the shimmering tails and wet heads slipping from the tall waves. One more lovely than another, with long, flapping tails and warm eyes fixed on their prey.

With his hands covering ears, he couldn't hear much, and yet the sight of pearly smiles and soft arms stretched towards them was enough to feel the urge to jump right into their loving clutches. To feel the sweetness of their kisses on his cheeks, delicate fingers wrapping around his neck with the utmost fondness, till at last sharp teeth would dig into his body and take it deep under the sea.

As the ship drew nearer to the stony island, he finally realised that the helmsman, immersed in the melody, was completely lost. With both hands on the wooden wheel and a foggy gaze, he had no thoughts, steering the vessel directly toward the sirens' isle.

"No," Choso gasped, running towards the wheel. "No, fuck, wake up!" he screamed and screamed, but nothing could mute the sirens' sweet voices.

The melodic come to me, sweetheart, and, I'll treat you well, darling, or, come closer, fill me with your love. Sometimes it would be only the singing, sweet and treacherous, with a maddening power to possess the men's simple minds.

Choso shoved the helmsman aside and hurried to cover his ears.

He looked around and saw utter chaos. A few men took cover in the wet corners of the ship, clutching their heads and praying fervently. Others jumped off the deck, heading straight for the siren's open arms, foolishly lured by the sweet and tempting promises they had convinced themselves of.

The bodies fell one by one, and soon a wave of screams rose from the pearly foam, as the crystal waters turned crimson. Sirens' strong hands sank the sailors, only to rise to the surface again and wait for another fool.

The helmsman curled under the wheel as Choso took over the steering.

And that was his biggest mistake.

As he took his hands off his ears, all the melodic whispers and giggles suddenly reached him. Loud and clear, one voice sweeter than the other, choking him with an overwhelming power until breathing alone became too difficult. A warmth spread all over his chest, as if the sole sensuality of the voices made his heart beat faster and his skin coat in sweat. The heat hit his cheeks, fever broke, but it wasn't caused by sickness, no.

But by all the devilish oaths, hitting him like an aphrodisiac and pulling towards the ship's edge. He tried to fight the filthy warmth filling his body. The need to jump overboard and nuzzle into the sirens' warm, plush skin.

He gripped the wheel tighter, trying to get the ship away from the stony island. The storm was ravaging the vessel, and yet it seemed that the brutal wind finally started to bend under his pleas. He rolled the wheel, and rolled, and rolled, till the massive, wooden structure slowly turned back towards the open sea.

Men were jumping one after another, and he estimated that half of the crew was already dead. Sirens circled the ship tighter, voices even-pitched, sweeter, making him tremble from the overwhelming heat.

But he was strong, Choso had believed. He could fight them, as no woman was able to make him mad enough to force him to jump overboard. Saving his life was far more crucial than those few, mere seconds of pleasure spent in sirens' arms.

With fingers clutching the wheel and the storm still fierce, he steered the ship away from the island into the endless sea. Pale moonlight struggled to pierce the thick clouds overhead, while ghostly lightning forked across the sky, illuminating his rain-slicked face.

He screamed to his men, telling them to hang in there, to stay calm, hoping that a few of them who still nuzzled into the dark corners of the ship wouldn't go absolutely mad. Sirens sang louder, and Choso thought with nail and tooth to keep his mind clear. But the lustful fever was making him weak, melting his body into a trembling mess, until he needed to grip the wheel tighter to keep from falling.

And then…

Then the catastrophe came.

"Sailor boy," whirled in the air, reaching his ears. His body suddenly froze, eyes widened. "Sailor boy, come here."

The voice was distinct from the others – sweeter, kinder, with a silky undertone that pierced straight to his heart.

"Sailor boy, I know you're there," a melody rumbled through his body once again, forcing Choso to let go of the wheel.

Driven by madness, he slowly moved down the deck, sneakily gliding over the ship's edge. The dark, infinite sea stretched out before him, with pearly waves crashing against each other. Among other lurking sirens, with giggles and claws poised to seize his lustful body – there was you.

Calm and beautiful, with wet hair curling around your cheeks and slightly lidded eyes looking up at him. Water dripped down your shell-covered breasts, and moonlight bounced off the wet skin.

Your gaze carried a kind of grace – patient, almost trusting. And the longer Choso kept looking at you, the more he leaned further forward. Raven hair sticking to his damp neck, lips fallen open, as he tried to fight the heat bubbling in his loins.

"My sailor boy," you chirped, spreading your arms open. Towards the sky, him, with a lovely smile and a little tilt of your head. "Come to me, sailor boy. I know you wish to."

His fingers gripped the wooden side tighter. Till knuckles went white, and breath slipped with a shudder. Wind smacked his cheeks, rain filled the fallen lips as he still, with trembling eyes and body bent in half, looked at your waiting arms.

He wondered how soft your skin would be and what you would taste like if he tried to caress your lips with his. How far underwater would you take him before choking him to death and leaving his body behind, just like you did with all the other men?

Would you devour him right away, or perhaps cherish every piece of his muscular body, which he was ready to offer you on a plate?

Or maybe, just maybe, with gentle fingers, you would first trace his cheeks, gazing deeply into the warm chestnut of his eyes as if meeting a lover’s stare. Run your fingers through his hair and softly press your lips to his, patiently awaiting his response – longing for him to deepen the kiss with the desire of one tempted by forbidden fruit, mindful of the inevitable consequences.

The rest of the crew watched him in fright, yet no one dared to step any closer to the edge. For the captain seemed to fight something none of them could help him with. Something so deeply etched into his chest that he could only grip the deck tighter and lean on the line between life and death.

But then your arms opened even wider, lips curled mischievously, gaze flickered. "My sailor boy, my dearest," the voice suddenly became lower, with the sensual cheekiness swirling in his mind. "Come to me. Let me love you."

Amidst the frightened screams of the crew and the wind whipping his cheeks with sharp, rainy gusts, Choso jumped.

Into the arms of a woman who suddenly turned him into a madman.

𖦹 𖦹 𖦹

He woke up with a sudden realisation that he could still breathe. His body didn't hurt as much as he thought it would after being devoured by a siren, and solely a light pain pulsed on his face.

He raised hand, touching the long, bloody slash marking his nose and cheeks. An ache flickered under his fingers, leaving the crimson, still slightly wet liquid on soft pads.

Moonlight slipped sheepishly through the small opening above, and only then did he realise he had been dragged into the cave. The sand beneath his body was still wet, soaked by the clothes that had weighed him down. He clearly remembered the moment his body touched the cold sea, sinking quickly before a pair of gentle arms pulled him back to the surface.

But the rest of his memory faded, and the bloody mark on his nose was likely caused by a severe blow to his head.

It pulsed a bit, but he was too excited by the thought of still being alive to care about such a minor issue.

He gradually sat up, glancing around the small cave by the seaside. Gentle waves quietly lapped inside, flowing over the golden sand and touching his bare feet. The moonlight glinted brightly in the clear, dark sky, and the warm night air caressed his flushed cheeks. It appeared that, in the end, he wasn't on the rocky siren island, and a breath of relief escaped his lips.

A relief mixed with panic.

Because you weren't here.

He once again looked around, noticing how shallow the cave was. The back wall, covered in slimy seaweed, shimmered under the moonlight, carrying the salty, slightly rotten smell of fish. But nowhere in the cave could he spot the familiar pinkish scales.

"Looking for me, sailor boy?"

His head snapped back towards the entrance.

And there you were – smiling slyly, wet hair cascading down your back, head tilted slightly. You lay on your belly, resting chin on your palm, with long tail swaying back and forth, droplets of crystal-clear water dripping from the soft scales.

A sweet giggle bounced off the stony walls as you looked at Choso's lips fallen open. "Why? Aren't you happy to see me?"

His throat bobbed, fingers gripped the wet sand. "N-No, it's just…"

Too distracted, he struggled to carve into his mind every small detail of your face. His gaze fixated on your lovely eyes, veiled by a gentle fog, where the irises and whites blurred together, almost resembling a spectre. He noticed the gentle curve of your lips and cheeks, which held a slight warmth. Your ears, bent into an eerie shape, slightly pointed and much thinner, added a little uncanny look to your lovely face.

And yet, his breath hitched, and something heavy bubbled beneath the chest. "Why didn't you kill me?"

A sweet hum filled the wet cave, broken only by waves clashing gently against your splayed body. "Would you prefer that, sailor boy?"

"No, i-it's just…" Choso desperately searched for words, but his mind was still as if under the influence of your bewitching spell. "Thank you." That's all he could say, trembling under the heavy gaze of yours.

Lying in front of his seated form, your finger brushed his calf. "It's too early to thank me. You still don't know why I decided to keep you alive."

Heavy muscles bulged under the milky, slightly damp skin, curling around his thick calves and up to beefy thighs. A giggle slipped past your lips as you saw another bulge straining his woollen tunic. With a wetness padding the cloth, trembling slightly whenever your nail marked his skin.

Your fingers travelled up, up, skimming the calves, knees, and thighs, as he slowly spread them open. Chestnut eyes followed your gradually approaching body, crawling closer towards him. Heavy tail dragged on the soft sand as you slowly slipped out of the water.

Leaning on his arm, he gripped the sand harder, ogling carefully the mischievous loveliness twisting your lips.

"Ask me," you whispered, nuzzling into his thigh. Fingers slipped under the woollen cloth, pinching the soft skin. "Ask me why I saved you."

"Why d-did you save me?" he could barely breathe, feeling your digits dangerously too close to his leaking cock.

And then, he felt it. Your thumb pressing onto the wet head, teeth biting gently into the inside of his thigh. A cry rolled out of his lips, little grains of sand dug painfully into his palms.

"I think you're cute," slipped in a giggle, as you licked the bitten skin sweetly. He whimpered lowly, and you noticed crystal droplets swirling in his eyes. "And I need something from you."

But before Choso could ask what, your head slipped under his woollen robes. And then, something in his mind exploded. Sudden pleasure washed over his spine as your lips curled around his cock with a lovely hum, fingers squeezing the pulsing base.

"W-Wait– Ahhh!" his hand landed on your head, but he somehow couldn't bring himself to push you away. Instead, he brushed your hair away, letting himself take a closer, better look at your lovely face.

There was something utterly filthy in the way your pointy ears shivered every time another moan slipped past his lips. How your scales seemed to glow even lighter when his fingers skimmed through your neck, thumb brushing the warm cheek bulging with his feverish head.

You drank the pearly cum swirling on the tip of his cock with a hum before taking him in deeper. Till he could feel the end of your warm throat and muscles tightening around the fat shaft. Delicate fingers played with his balls, and a sudden cry ripped past his lips when you gave them a soft squeeze.

"M-my Goddess–" this time, he tried to push you away, feeling the dangerous heat once again coiling in his loins. "I c-can't, it's too–mhmmm–"

A sudden embarrassment hit his flushed cheeks at the thought of coming that fast. Needing nothing but a single luscious glance of yours and lips locking on his cock. Your head bobbed in frenzied movements, with low hums going straight into his pulsing cock and sending a wave of trembling pleasure down his spine. Nose tickled his pubes, saliva dripping down the veiny shaft, drenched in the honeyed sweetness of your mouth.

Pulling out with a soft pop, your gaze locked with his. "I'm not a Goddess, sailor boy," Choso wished to disagree, but your lips crashed against his. In a quick yet messy kiss, as you bit his lower lip, leaving him with a metallic sweetness and the musky smell of his cock. "But for now, call me whatever you want. As long as you'll give me this," your fingers once again squeezed his tightening balls.

Choso felt dumbfounded, madly besotted, with heart-shaped irises fixed on your face and lips slightly parted. "You want…" he barely pushed, not quite sure whether you were thinking the same thing.

But you nodded gently, giving his cock another squeeze. The flushed head was seconds away from busting, and you could see the milky trace of sticky cum coat the hardened tip.

"Give me a baby," slipped smoothly like a dream, causing Choso to blush deeply. Your hands curled behind his neck, then you pulled him closer, drawing him nearer as you slowly reclined, shifting your positions. "You're such a pretty, pretty boy," your warm thumb brushed his rosy cheek. "Can you do it for me? Do you want to make me pregnant, sailor boy?"

And Choso, with your tail between his thighs and your lovely little head splayed between his hands digging deep into the sand, could do nothing but nod. Slowly, with heat ripping through his body from the inside, and his heart suddenly skipping a few beats.

"Y-yes," he whispered softly, as you pushed behind the ear raven strands of his hair. A gentle sweetness shone in his eyes, melting your heart with its pure and innocent glow. His feelings were so pristine, as he desperately tried to hide this charming bashfulness behind an awkward demeanour. "If you allow me, my Goddess, I do want to–" his throat bobbed, another wave of embarrassment washing over his virgin body. He simply couldn't force himself to admit such a filthy thing!

You giggled, pulling him closer. Till your lips brushed gently and eyes met in a lustful crossing. "Then get to work, my sailor boy. Show me what you got."

Before Choso could ask, flustered, how this was supposed to work, you swiftly lifted your tail, putting the lower half of heavy, pinkish scales on his shoulder. Your hand curled around his, slowly, slowly, guiding it towards the swell of your ass. And then slightly down, through the hard scales covering your whole lower body. Choso tried to remember every little bump, each golden line curling around your tail like a halo, till he finally felt something else.

Something softer, slicker, hidden under a few flakes till you helped him feel the wet entrance of your pussy. His breath hitched, eyes crossed with your mischievous smile, as he sensed the slick coat his palm.

"Can you feel it?" you asked, but something in your voice changed. It became softer, more pleading, with a gentle frown appearing between your eyebrows. "Push them in, mhmm, just like that," guiding him softly, your nails dig into his forearm.

Two thick fingers slipped inside, and he immediately moaned, feeling the maddening tightness of your cunt. Gummy walls – not quite soft, but rather with slight bumps and swells – clamped down on his digits till thrusting them further was nearly impossible.

Choso had never been with a woman before and thus had no basis for comparison. Still, your warmth felt uniquely different from that of humans – slick, slimy, with bulges pressing into his fingers and holding them firmly. His two fingers were trapped in the soft, drenched embrace of your heated cunt, making his mind spin at the sheer thought of feeling you around his cock.

"My Goddess, you're s-so wet," he cried, curling another arm around your tail. His cheek nuzzled into the pink-scaled tail, and the silky fluke fluttered on his shoulder. "So tight, can you r-relax a little?"

When he tried to bend the finger, a sudden jolt of electricity dripped down your spine, and nails dug deeper into his muscular forearm. "I am relaxed, sailor boy. It–ngh–it can't get looser."

Choso was almost losing his mind. The warmth of your cunt burned through his fingers, soft bumps brushed his fingers as he pumped them in slow thrusts. With pads bumping into every swell of your gummy walls and honeyed slick dripping down the drenched sand. It stretched between his fingers, coating them in a weird, slimy softness, and, driven by sheer curiosity, he pulled them out.

Seeing the thought coiling in his mind, your eyes suddenly bulged. "No, wait, you can't–!"

But it was too late.

Two, drenched digits were pushed into his mouth, as he sucked on them with a low hum. His tongue licking them clean, a delicious groan escaped his tightened throat, as the syrupy sweetness exploded on his tongue. His mind started to spin, eyes rolled back, stomach squeezed in an almost painful pleasure and cock, if not hard enough, became almost stony. With head pulsing in feverish need as he brushed the fat shaft against the slick entrance of your cunt.

But something felt wrong… The heat that hit him was too strong, ripping him from the inside with a hungry flame that seemed to grow more resilient.

He looked down, seeing the pearly cum already bursting all over your soft, pulsing cunt, coating the lovely scales with waves and waves of thick semen. And yet, his cock was still rock-hard, throbbing with a raw need to breed your swelling cunt. With small folds puckered out, and a bumpy clit pulsing under the sticky droplets of his semen.

"W-What is g-going–"

"It's like an aphrodisiac," you cried, feeling his warm cum coating your needy pussy. "The slick, it's, mhmmm, you shouldn't eat it."

As the round head of his cock brushed your soaked hole, its muscles tried to draw it in. Your walls tightened around the throbbing tip, causing another surge of pleasure to ripple through Choso's spine and making him climax again with a sticky release.

"I can't, fuck, I-I can't stop cumming," a crying whimper rolled past his lips, as he nuzzled into your tale like a baby. "My Goddess, you tasted s-so, nghh, so delicious, fuck, so sweet. I don't regret drinking it, Idon'tIdon't–ah!"

Oh, what a lovely, whimpering mess he was. Although his massive cock ripped you raw, prising through the swells and bumps with a brutal intrusion, you still managed to giggle cheekily.

A massive arm firmly held your tail in place, while another hand moved down to your pussy. Fingers, a bit clumsy, found your sensitive clit, gently pressing and rolling the soft, pulsing button.

With eyes slightly half-closed and a mind clouded by pleasure, you stared at his face – completely miserable, crying, yet strikingly beautiful, with raven hair clinging to his open lips and a deep furrow across the milky skin of his forehead. His chestnut eyes remained fixed on yours, refusing to break eye contact, even as his hips moved desperately to meet yours. Messy words spilt from his loosened tongue as he kissed, licked, and bit the scales of your tail, making your thoughts whirl even faster.

"Don't, I'm–ahh–sensitive here!"

Deep eyes locked onto you, shimmering with a hint of mischief. "Oh, yeah? Where else are you sensitive, my Goddess?" he murmured, licking your tail again. "Tell me, I want to know every one of your sweet spots."

His thumb rubbed your clit, desperately trying to make your cunt loosen up just slightly. But it seemed that the swells and bumps coating your walls were already relaxed, forcing him to slide through the slick with a beastly thrust. Your cunt squished his cock till you felt every vein, every dripping pearl of his cum with a maddening accuracy.

Your arms spread open, waiting for him to bend over and bury his face in the plushness of your breasts. His fingers ripped the two shells covering your tits with a single tug, finally letting the swelled softness slip into his warm palm.

He leaned forward, folding your tail in half until the thin fluke brushed the sand over your head. "So soft," he whispered, squeezing your breasts with one hand. "My Goddess, you're so soft, e-everywhere," but before a moan could escape your lips, he captured them with his own, drinking in the sweet melody with a low groan. "Where is it? Where is your sweet spot?"

As no matter how hard he forcefully thrusted, how deep his cock slipped into your feverish cunt, it seemed that he still couldn't find this little button that would make you melt under his touch.

He pounded you like a madman, tearing through your clamping walls and sucking gently on your lips, as he felt each and every bump of your cunt. The filthy squelching sound bounced off the cave's wall, as the slimy cum dripped down the curve of your ass.

He mumbled, cried, whimpered miserably where is it where is it where is it, as his cock rummaged through your weeping pussy at a maddening pace, forcing your body to dig deeper into the soft sand. Your breast bounced with every thrust, eyes rolled back whenever he busted inside, filling your womb with heavy waves of cum.

As, dear heavens, he was cumming all the time – from the moment his cock slipped past your swollen folds, till the milky teeth sucked on your neck. The heat caused by your slick was constantly making him cum, till your lower belly bulged from the thickness of milky seed he stuffed you with. It flowed inside your belly, attracting his hazy attention.

His large palm pressed the lower, plump pouch of your belly, feeling the warm liquid spilling inside your puffy womb.

"It's, mhmmm, it's everywhere," you moaned into his lips, pulling him closer. Fingers digging into his hair, eyes glossy whenever the soft skin of his cock pushed your swollen bumps. "The things, ahhh, inside it's–" another cry filled his fallen lips, as the feverish head kissed your overflowing womb. "It's e-everywhere. The bumps–"

"Are your sweet spot?" Choso asked, feeling another wave of heat coiling in his loins. "You wish to tell me that all of them…"

"Yes, fuck, yesyesyes," your eyes crossed in pleasure, when his thumb pinched your clit. Rolling the little button between soft fingers, massaging it in small circles, only to tweak it with a little pain. "So good, mhmm feels s-so good."

And upon hearing it, something in Choso's mind snapped.

Again, again, again, and again, as he pumped his cock with sloppy thrusts. His warm cum filled your womb to the brim, coating his full length with sticky creaminess and spilling through your entrance. He plunged with brutal force, ripping through the swollen bumps that tried to lock him in place.

He pulled back from your neck, taking in the loveliness of your face, utterly lost in pleasure. Kissing warm cheeks, licking the chin, biting down on pointy ears till another moan ripped through your chest and cunt clamped on him tighter.

Tighter and tighter, until Choso somehow felt himself sealed. Your walls softened and expanded, embracing his pulsing shaft with an arousing, warm sensation.

"What's going on?" he brushed away the lost strands of hair stuck to your cheeks. "My Goddess, what–"

"We're, mhmm, mating," your head lulled to the side, and breathing suddenly became harder. He, on the other hand, froze. "You need to s-stay inside till I won't get p-pregnant."

But it was hard to imagine you weren't already with a child, with a lower belly bloated from the sheer amount of cum he filled you with. And when your cunt sealed him with a deathly grip, you finally came. Pulsing around his cock, drenching his hips with the slick sweetness, and bending your back in a delicious arc.

And Choso whimpered, feeling your warm cunt clamp down on him with short pulses, and pressing with his heavy hand on the bloated pouch filled with his semen. Till you cried right into his lips and allowed him to lick the sweat rushing down your temple. So beautiful, beautiful, my beautiful Goddess, bounced off your lips as he mumbled messily like a starving man. Rolling his hips with gentle thrusts, sending waves of pleasure down your spine.

You stayed locked for the next few minutes, and the moment Choso pulled out, his cum burst from your clamping walls. But he, oh, he didn't let it go to waste, quickly slipping beneath your tail and pushing the salty strings back with his tongue.

Drinking, slurping, sucking on your slick mixed with his, till the aphrodisiac once again hit his head. You tried to push him away, overwhelmed from the orgasm that ripped through you a mere seconds ago, but he was completely, utterly lost.

Sucking on your plump clit and stuffing you full with three fingers, only to keep the warm semen deep inside your womb.

He fucked you, caressed you and kissed every part of your body till the soft licks of sun started slipping shyly into the cave. Till your pinkish tail was coated in his cum and belly heavy, overflowing with the creamy warmth.

Sometimes he pounded your back on the sand; at other times, when your scales felt drier than usual, he put you back in the water, filling your tight cunt with calm waves slipping beneath your bodies.

He made promises, large and lovely, while biting and sucking sweetly on your nipples and coating the swell of your breasts with the wettest kisses. He fucked you madly and made love, as if cherishing the moment of intimacy meant only for the lovers.

And you, who initially intended to use him only for this purpose, began to breathe in every soft whisper. To nuzzle into his large, warm hands, kiss the skin on his neck, and look up at his handsome face with a gentle, tender gaze.

Thus, when morning arrived, and you both lay on the warm sand, turning toward each other, a quiet, shy voice said gently, "Allow me to go with you."

Your heart swelled, breath hitched in a tightened chest, seeing the pristine desperation beaming from his eyes. He sighed, feeling your fingers swirl the long, raven hair. "Do you know what you're asking for?"

He nodded, brushing the sweetness of your cheeks.

"You'll never be able to live above the water."

"I know," he added, eyes still kind and utterly hopeless. "I don't mind. As long as I can live with you."

And with a new, such strange feeling blooming in your heart, a soft okay, slipped past your lips.

There was a way to make him breathe underwater. Something sirens kept secret, never letting mortals know about such a deadly weapon.

"Drink my tears, then," you said, rolling him back onto your body. Till he hovered over you, with long, dark strands tickling your cheeks. "Make me cry, my sailor boy, and drink them."

Choso stared at your lovely face, taking in its divine beauty. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered innocently, and you giggled.

Your hands curled behind his neck, drawing him into a soft, dear kiss. "You fool, there's no need to hurt me." A mischievous smile lifted your lips as you once again raised your tail and rested it on his shoulder. "I can think of a few different ways."

And Choso, as a madman, could only follow every wish of his beloved, siren Goddess.

Dearest anon, I hope your wish was fulfilled! And that everyone else also enjoyed it <3

Clearing your throat you jab a thumb to the stairs behind you. “Right- sooo, imma go… Y’know collect your kid’s tooth ‘n all. Tell your wife I’ll leave the tooth on the porch—in a baggie of course!”

The man just watches you, blue eyes piercing through your soul. There’s a hint of amusement swirling around in them, and they’re so pretty, you get lost in them for a moment too long.

Clearing your throat, you slowly step back—yes, actually step. You can’t let this stranger know that you can actually fly, and you can just hope that the guy didn’t see you clearly before—before going upstairs, collecting the kid’s tooth.

After placing the money under the pillow, you just awkwardly stand in the room for a moment longer.

With a heavy sigh you creep back downstairs. This is the first time in the many years of you being the Tooth fairy that someone has actually caught you, an uneasy feeling forming in your stomach.

It’s dark downstairs, making you look around a few times before you peek your head into the living room. No more Santa. Huh, weird. You didn’t hear him go upstairs, so where he went you have no idea, but that’s not something you should focus on right now.

Getting out of the house, you leave the bag with the kid’s tooth on the porch, tied off with a little ribbon. The feeling weighs heavy on you, because you’ve never had to do this before.

You were sure everyone was asleep. You’re careful, so incredibly careful. So how did it come to this? To you having to leave a tooth behind. It gleams up at you, a little bloodied still at the root, almost like it’s mocking you for leaving behind something that belongs to you.

Sighing, you rub your face a few times. Your wings flutter behind you slightly, almost as if they are urging you to pick it up and just… take it with you anyway—like you didn’t promise a parent that they would get to keep their kid’s tooth.

Fuck.

Taking a step back, you look at it one more time, think about how the pouch later will feel off, before taking off and going to the next residence that expects your visit for the night.

But even when you’re doing the rest of your shift, you can’t help but think of that one abandoned tooth laying in the cold night air. But there isn’t anything you can do about that right now, is there?

You always forget just how busy the streets of downtown Tokyo are. Luckily your wings only come out at night. People have no regard for personal space. Tourists. Commuters. You name it. They keep brushing against you, not even uttering a sorry.

There’s a prominent scowl on your face. Muttering under your breath about people being rude, you get interrupted. An arm swings around your shoulder. You instantly freeze.

Turning to look at the person who’s touching you, you’re met with a mop of white hair. The guy is tall, incredulously so. Eyes hidden by a pair of shades. He’s grinning down at you, as if the two of you have been friends forever.

Just who is this guy?

“Heyyyy,” the stranger drawls out. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You stare at him. Your instincts say to flee, scream, push his arm off you, but a different part deep inside your brain says he’s harmless.

The two of you are standing still on the sidewalk. People around you are narrowly avoiding you, muttering about how rude it is to stand still in the middle of the sidewalk. You heed them no mind.

“Uhh- hi?” you question. Still thinking about the fact that this random guy just walked up to you and started talking to you. Stranger danger or something.

He just… looks at you for a little, grin still on his face as he assesses you from head to toe. Though you can’t see his eyes, you can feel them.

“I honestly didn’t think I would run into you this soon, but here you are!” He finally says, and it takes everything in you to not fucking bolt right now. Most people don’t even glance twice at the two of you, while there are a few who stare for a bit longer than necessary, wondering what’s going on before continuing with their day.

Luckily you don’t have to say anything, though, because the guy’s smile slips just slightly. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Biting on the inside of your cheek, you shake your head slightly. You have never met this person in your life, if you had, you would’ve remembered—it’s unusual to find someone here who is this tall, has stark white hair and has the prettiest teeth.

They really are pretty, and you can’t help but wonder if they are naturally like that, or if he had some work done. It pains you every time people shave down their natural teeth to get those veneers. You can’t even collect the scraps!

Realising you’re staring at his teeth, you look up at his eyes—shades, really—again. There’s a small crinkle to his nose and a small smile splayed on his lips instead of that smirk he had earlier.

“Didn’t know you also did this as your day-job,” he casually comments as he starts walking, dragging you alongside him. Why on God’s green earth haven’t you pushed him off , walked away yet?

The words catch you off-guard slightly. Day job would imply he would know of your ‘nighttime job’, which no one knows about, so maybe this is just a random guess? “Do what, exactly?”

His steps falter slightly at that, almost as if he didn’t expect you to question him about it. He looks at you from the corner of his eye, and you can finally see a hint of color—blue, incredibly so. Just like you saw last night.

Surely not, right?

“The whole teeth thing. I thought you only collected them.” Okay well, that confirms it. This is the same guy you met last night when he was dressed in a Santa costume.

Thinking back on it, you realise that he was indeed very tall, but it evened out with his proportions.

Wait… this is the guy’s house you practically broke into last night. The father who was setting out presents for his kid to find later that day. The one who saw you break in and only greeted you like it was something normal.

A nervous laugh bubbles up, and it slips out of you before you can clamp it down. “Yeah… I, uhhh, am a dentist!”

You’re not a dentist by a long shot. The only thing you do is collect teeth, you don’t even have a job—if you don’t count being the Tooth fairy as having a job. So you’re lying straight through your teeth right now, and this poor guy doesn’t know any better.

After hearing that, he practically perks up. “Really? I think I have a cavity, think you can maybe look at it some day?”

“Sure,” you force the words out, strained smile on your face as you try to look for an out. “I have to go now though. Y’know, gotta check out teeth to make sure they stay nice and healthy. Have a great—”

“Oh! That reminds me,” the guy cuts in, absolutely ignoring the fact that you’re trying to get away from him. He shoves his hand into his pocket, fingers absolutely digging into it as he tries to find something. A small ‘aha!’ falls from his lips as he holds up a baggie—tied at the top with a ribbon, completely see-through, and in it sits one, tiny teeth. The same baggie you left behind last night.

Your eyes widen as you whip your head around a few times, trying to see if people saw this guy holding up a bag with a random tooth in it. Snatching it out of his hand, you drag him to one of the alleyways. “What is your problem??”

He pouts at that, lower lip jutting out, as his arms hang beside him. Pushing up his shades into the ivory locks, he finally looks at you with those unobstructed eyes, and fuck, if they aren’t pretty.

Nope, nope, nope nope nope. You cannot think that way. This man is married, you know he’s married because you get all the info before entering a residence. Two adults and one kid.

“You left it behind last night, I just wanted to return it to you!” he almost whines? Why is he so hurt over the fact that you find it strange that he would just give you his child’s teeth to you?

Most parents who don’t believe in the Tooth Fairy keep their children’s teeth for sentimental value—something even you couldn’t understand why they would possibly do that. Sure, you take the teeth and give the kid money in return, but you don’t keep the teeth.

So why is this parent trying to give you—a total stranger—his child’s teeth?

“I left it there for you guys, why would you try to give it ‘back’ to me?” your voice is full of confusion. None of this makes any sense to you. First him finding you and being so friendly, as if he’s talking to a friend rather than a stranger that broke into his house, and then him giving you the tooth you purposefully left behind. You even told him you would do that!

“You’re the Tooth Fairy,” he says slowly, confusion starting to creep into his voice. “The one who collects people’s teeth and exchanges money for it.”

“I- huh?”

“Why are you so confused? You’re the literal Tooth Fairy who collects teeth. I saw you last night! You know, me, Santa. The guy with the big white beard and the red costume. I have a shed with reindeer. The one who delivers Christmas presents to people’s houses…”

He starts trailing off when he sees you furrow your brows together. Surely… surely you, the Tooth Fairy, would believe in Santa, wouldn’t you? The two of you have the same type of job, though his is only for one day out of the year whereas yours is every day.

But then again, it would explain why he wouldn’t be able to find your house. Sure, he hasn’t been doing this for many years—his father having died only a few years prior, making it so that he had to take over—but he knows everyone's address, well, everyone who beliefs anyway.

“…You don’t believe in Santa Claus?” His voice is edged with disbelief. “You sprout wings at night and steal children’s teeth, but a man delivering presents is too far for you?”

“Why would I believe in a myth when he never visited my house?” you ask him.

The two of you stare at each other for a while, blue eyes blinking down at you. His smile is long gone, replaced with something sadder. The bag in your hand feels heavier than it should. Clenching your hand around it, you can feel the way the tooth is leaving behind small indents into your skin.

Finally he laughs. It’s one of those laughs that doesn’t have any humour behind it, feeling rather hollow. “Santa isn’t gonna visit your house if you don’t believe in him. It’s the same for the Tooth Fairy, isn’t it?”

That’s something you’ve never thought about before. Of course it made sense to you that you wouldn’t visit people’s houses who don’t believe in you—normally you get a notification of whose tooth has fallen out that day—because they would absolutely freak out if the tooth was somehow gone.

But you never thought about the fact that it might be the same for Santa. Sure, you’ve waited next to your tree, fallen asleep waiting for the big man in red to come by and give you presents, but there was always a small voice in the back of your mind that told you he wasn’t real.

“No wonder I couldn’t find your residence last night. Hah, who would’ve thought? The Tooth Fairy herself doesn’t believe in Santa,” he mutters, not really directed at you.

Then he looks down at you, and you instinctively straighten up. “Even the Easter Bunny believes in Santa! I just… I can’t wrap my head around the fact that you don’t believe in me.”

Huffing, you turn around. There is no way you’re going to stand here and listen to Santa of all people be butt hurt over the fact that you don’t believe in him when he—or whoever came before him—didn’t even come by your house when you did believe.

“Thanks for the tooth,” you call out over your shoulder, waving around the pouch slightly. “Until next time, Santa. Oh, and don’t bother trying to find me, you’re not able to anyway.”

The sun shines down at you when you step out of the alleyway, busy street bustling with commotion. You’re about to disappear, blend in with the crowd, when you hear your name being called out from behind you.

Turning around, you see Santa—you really should get his name—sprint after you, long strides eating up distance in no time. He stops in front of you, smiling like he didn’t just almost cry about the fact that you didn’t believe in him—okay, maybe not cry, but he was still stupidly hurt over the whole thing.

“Why don’t you show me where you live? Y’know, so I can bring you presents next year now that you know I’m real and all of that.” He’s smiling down at you with those pearly whites, as if he isn’t asking you some insane question right now.

Raising your brow, you just stare at him for a little. “You wanna know where I live,” you slowly say. When he nods his head, white hair bobbing with the motion, you continue. “Do you realise how creepy that sounds?”

His smile falters at that, and you can almost see the way the cogs are turning in his head. “…Would it be less creepy if I treated you to some lunch first?”

You’re about to decline, saying that you’re not hungry or form some other excuse, when your stomach decides to betray you. A small rumble can be heard, and he perks up at the sound of it. Sighing, you reluctantly nod. “Well then, don’t just stand around there, lead the way.”

He loops his arm around yours and starts marching, already chattering your ear off about anything and everything, and it takes everything in you not to snap. Sure, it’s nice he gave you the tooth, but you didn’t plan on being out for this long.

Stopping at a small cafe, he ushers you to sit down while he orders for the two of you. You don’t have the energy to argue with him, so you just choose a small table as far away from the window as possible.

Putting your chin in your hand, you being to softly drum your fingers on the table. You should’ve been home by now, going to sleep before you had to do your shift later tonight, but of course you get looped into whatever the fuck this is.

Luckily, Santa doesn’t take too long, coming back with so much stuff, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when you see it. And it isn’t just a lot of stuff, almost all of it are pastries with the sweetest fillings and toppings imaginable.

“Why would you ever order this much food?” you ask him when he sits down. It’s almost like he perks up at the mention of food—like a fucking dog—head snapping up.

“Oh! I didn’t know what you wanted, so I just chose everything I liked… and then a little bit more,” he isn’t even ashamed to say it, nor has any difficulties to throw away money like that.

Rolling your eyes, you just pick a sandwich up, while Santa is already halfway through a chocolate croissant—how he has scarfed down that much food already is a mystery to you.

“So, what about—”

“Shhhh, no talking during lunch,” you cut him off, closing your eyes as you slowly chew on your sandwich. When you peek one eye open, you see him pout but he mercifully stays quiet. Well, at least he can listen to a simple command. Again, like a dog.

The two of you sit in silence for a little while, before he carefully tries to strike up an conversation yet again. This time you let him, though he still does most of the talking.

At one point you find out his name is Gojo Satoru, and he was kind of flabbergasted that you didn’t know his name. Something about him having a whole toy company under him. That had made you laugh, of course Santa would have a daytime job as the CEO of a toy company.

When you’d asked him if all his employees were also his elves, he had pouted a little, telling you that the elves didn’t like him very much as a boss, so they didn’t want to work for his company during the remainder of the year. That caused you to raise a brow, but you decided not to poke into it too much because he seemed genuinely upset about it, even though he tried to play it off.

After eating your sandwich and one pastry Satoru had hyped up to the point you couldn’t not eat it, the two of you left. Satoru had eaten almost everything else, and you have to wonder how he’s still so lean.

You can feel your eyes start to get heavy the longer you’re awake, considering you haven’t slept yet, but you can’t exactly fall asleep while Gojo is chatting your ear off once more.

“Sooo,” Gojo Santa drawls out. “What do you do with the children's teeth?”

“Sell them on the black market,” you reply deadpan. A yawn escapes you ask you just continue walking. Baby blues are blinking down at you. Once. Twice. An awkward laugh tumbles out of him, not a jolly one this time.

Turning your head, you hold his stare for a few more seconds. You would’ve done more really, but the corner of your lip betrays you. “Kidding, I’ll show you once we get to my house.”

Gojo follows you with a bit more hesitancy in his step now, and it makes you want to laugh once again. Good thing you haven’t told him you’re the one who buys teeth off the black market—they’re a form of currency for you after all.

The busy streets of Tokyo start to get emptier and emptier the more the two of you walk, until you find yourself standing in front of a forest.

“Where even are we?” Gojo mutters, looking around him. It’s a valid question considering the fact that there are no houses nearby.

Smiling, you walk into the forest. “Almost home.”

A bit further down, you crouch next to a tree. Pulling out a different pouch from your pocket, you open it. Fairy dust sparkles up at you, glinting in the light that dares to penetrate through the tree tops. Pulling some of it out, you sprinkle it onto the bark.

You can feel the way Gojo is eyeing you, but you heed it no mind. Stepping back, you watch as the bark transforms into a door. Opening it, you gesture towards Gojo to go inside. “After you.”

“Right, okay then…” He ducks his head to go inside, and you follow not soon after, letting the door close behind you. Gojo jumps a bit at the sound of the door closing, but he starts looking around the room.

Hanging up your jacket, you quickly go to your workstation, bringing out your mortar and pestle. Dumping the tooth in, you quickly begin to crush it. Gojo peeks over your shoulder, hearing the crunch of the little tooth pieces getting ground up.

“Whatcha doing?” he murmurs, eyes transfixed on the way you’re trying to break one of the pieces up, but it clearly doesn’t work. “Let me help.”

Raising a brow, you look at him, but still let go of the tools. He quickly takes over, crushing the pieces in no time. It grinds down to that same glitter you just had in your pouch, which you put onto the workbench.

“It’s uhh, fairy dust. Basically my way of getting into people’s houses,” you explain, tongue peeking out from between your lips as you try to carefully transfer the dust into the pouch. “I was running low.”

“Wait wait wait, let me get this straight. You use the teeth you collect from houses to, what, break into houses to collect more teeth again?”

Swiveling on your chair, you look up at Satoru, who for some reason still hasn’t decided to sit down. “I never said that was all the teeth were used for.” And like the universe could hear you, a small ding grabs both your and Gojo’s attention. “Great timing!”

Walking over to the big press, you open it. Steam comes off, before you can see some bills. “Are you kidding me?! You’re printing money??”

That’s Satoru, who’s watching you in disbelief—his jaw is literally on the floor,eyes full of disbelief as you pull out a steamy fresh yen bill. Holding it out to him, you tilt your head. “Well duh, how else am I gonna pay these kids?”

“By getting a job?! Didn’t you say you were a dentist???”

“Ehhh, I lied about that. Remember, I didn’t think you were the real Santa, but rather a parent whose house I technically broke into the night before.”

Gojo blinks down at you, maybe he’s trying to gauge if you’re joking or not. You’re not. Being the Tooth Fairy is your job. It’s a lot of physical labour—hours of grinding down teeth into stardust, which you either use to make money or get into houses with, it also helps heal your wings whenever they do somehow end up damaged.

“The Tooth Fairy is a criminal. Oh my god, I can’t believe this. I’m in the house of a criminal— wait a minute, do you even pay taxes considering you live inside a tree?” He vaguely gestures around him, but then he finally looks around for the first time.

From the inside you wouldn’t know you’re inside a tree. It’s a normal house, a bit cramped maybe, but normal in the sense that the room is large and square. There’s electricity running, and there are even multiple stories.

It’s just that the room the two of you are in right now is a little odd in the sense that it’s your workspace. It’s filled with machines that look just like the one you opened to pull money from. And of course that workbench of yours.

“Why would I pay taxes in my own realm?” you ask, confused. Because why would you pay taxes over your own little realm that the Japanese government doesn’t even know about?

Satoru hums, looking around the room. “I mean, can’t fault you for that, but still, you can’t just print money— do you know how much trouble you could get into if people found that out?”

You snort at that. “Right, because people can totally find this place. Don’t you worry about that, the Tooth Fairy wont get arrested for something as silly as tax evasion. Also, I’m not a criminal. People should be glad about that, actually, because if we were criminals, people would never be able to catch us.”

“Now why are you bringing me into this? I just deliver presents to people on Christmas eve, I’m not sitting on the North Pole printing money in my hidden house—”

“So you do have a hidden house? Also you’re aware you break into people’s homes, just like I do, right?”

“I- no I don’t have a hidden house! Every present gets made in my toy factory here in Japan. And… okay well that last part might be true, but you didn’t have to put it like that.”

Smiling, you shake your head a bit. “Well c’mon then, I’ll show you the rest of my tax-free house.”

It’s not something you thought you would ever do—showing your house to someone else. It’s been decades since someone last was here, and that person was your own mother. At the time she was still the Tooth Fairy. She’s also the one who has taught you all about fairy dust and its usage.

If anyone was a criminal, it would’ve been the first Tooth Fairy who came up with stealing children’s teeth for money, not you.

The rest of the day passes in a blink, and before you even realise it, your wings sprout out of your shoulder blades. They unfurl, casting small shadows onto your kitchen floor, where you and Gojo were chatting over a cup of tea.

Shit, had you really wasted the day away like this— talking to Santa of all people? You haven’t even slept! And now you’re supposed to make your rounds again?

“Well, I guess duty calls.” you mumble as you stand up. Gojo looks a bit sad, but stands up as well. Digging into your pocket, you gently give him a small pouch with some Fairy Dust. He holds it up like it’s a foreign object—which it kinda is. “You can use that when you want to visit, or whatever.”

“Really, you’ll let me visit again?” There’s a small sparkle to his eyes that almost rivals the dust. It’s kinda cute, but you won’t ever tell him that. Humming, you open the front door. The forest having since darkened, the moonlight peeking through slightly. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

Waving, he walks back to civilisation as you take off to go to the first house of the night.

And he stays true to his word. The first time Gojo came to visit you, you were asleep. He’d at least looked apologetic about it, not having realised that you probably would be asleep until a bit later in the day. You’d waved him off and told him not to worry about it since you hadn’t told him.

After that, his visits were later, around seven or eight at night. He also always brought food with him, since he still had to eat dinner, and you your first meal of the day.

It was honestly scary how easy it was to become friends with him. You never really had any friends, much less people who even knew about you being the Tooth Fairy. Guess the two of you had that in common, though—the secret identities.

Sure, Gojo might be Santa, but he’s a normal guy 364 days out of the year, so he has more freedom with who he spends time with, and he has told you all about his friends. It was honestly cute how happy he is every time he talks about them, but part of you felt lonelier than ever when you heard him talk about it.

What would it be like to truly live a normal life, one where you don’t have to hide away because of the fact that you sprout wings at night and collect teeth?

Seems like you don’t have to dwell on that thought for long, because one day, after months of talking to Gojo, he asked you one simple question.

The two of you are sitting on your couch, watching TV. Gojo is uncharacteristically silent, and you have been side-eyeing him the entire time. After a good forty minutes of silence, you finally break. “What’s up with you?”

He jolts slightly, fingers slipping from the small takeout box he has in his hand, before they clamp around it again—slightly too hard, crinkling the plastic with it. His eyes find yours, and for the first time in forever, you see an emotion you haven’t seen in him before—uncertainty.

“Go out with me?” he finally blurts out, swallowing straight after. The words bounce off your walls and into your skull. Go out with me? He wants to go on a date? With you?

“Me?” you point at yourself, as if trying to confirm that he isn’t talking about anyone else.

He laughs, a bit awkwardly, as he scratches the back of his neck with one hand. “Who else?”

Biting down on your lip, you look down at the takeout in your lap. Why? Why would he ever want to go out with you out of everyone? You don’t have an interesting life, at all. You just… collect teeth and sleep. There’s not much else you do with your days. Looking up at him, you finally whisper, “Are you sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything in my life,” and he does sound so sure, you can’t but help believe in him.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll go out with you.”

A/N: I'm honestly giggling even thinking about Santa and the Tooth Fairy being criminals. They somehow can enter people's residences and no one notices. Anyway, I hope you guys liked this!

Tags: @yoonsucks @etheralpanic @lilithkleia @dollieadored @starsforvia @iinvivible @saniiaa @marisacosm @tojiphoria @yorikae @coveexxx @yagirljelliedkiki @pingui0i @serpenttine @seueuq @mousedit @sugurusbadhabit @cactusvolumes @secretsofchance @lilslovesaizawa @satorusdollie @kcandy-flosz @galinathepanda

pervy!choso who awkwardly positions himself on parts of the apartment you share just to properly satisfy himself. What exactly does this entail? Oh, y’know, him sitting the wrong way on a chair you sat in for twenty minutes, grinding his bare cock against the smooth wood and soon letting his cum paint out across your seat!

pervy!choso who accidentally came mid-conversation with you.

You were yapping about some show he agreed to watch with you and you thought you were going crazy when you noticed how much his hips were moving under the not-so-thick blanket he buried himself beneath, but… then he was grunting. And then his face was made up. And his ears had got red. And he could barely make eye contact with you.

Moments later and he excused himself off to the bathroom, tugging his pants down and scoffing at the way his seed has plastered itself all throughout his boxers just from listening to you talk.

pervy!choso who knew he had a real problem after that. It was one thing to jerk off to you rather often, but to not even be able to have a conversation-, no, to not even be able to listen to you was insane!

pervy!choso who comes to vent to you about it one night—confessing and apologizing about all his habits with the biggest pout on his face. Telling you how he, “can’t control it” sometimes, and that he might be “a bit” infatuated with you.

pervy!choso who’s heart skips a beat when you reveal you’re no better than he is! You pulled out a dildo of yours that… weirdly resembled his cock?

pervy!choso was left to bat his lashes in disbelief. There’s no way you, his sweet sweet roommate was just as much of a perv as he was—if not worse?!

The dildo you’d shown to him not only resembled his cock, but captured the very essence of it down to the slimmest vein trickling down near his balls.

What the fuck.

pervy!choso who starts drooling uncontrollably when you go on to explain to him that you’ve been using the pillows he sleeps on to get off for months now. You told him that you’d made sure the pillows and their cases were washed before his head ever hit them again but, fairly enough, he didn’t give a shit about that.

Hell, he wishes you’d left the evidence of your acts all over his stuff—just to he could rub his face into it later and get a proper smell of you while he humped his cock against his sheets.

pervy!choso who realizes he’s drooling from more than one place halfway through your perverted confessions, his body unconsciously inching closer and closer to you until you’re both practically sharing breaths and every word of sin that’s exiting your lips is being caressed right into his greedy ones.

pervy!choso who, rightfully, cums a good minute ‘n a half into the first kiss you two share. His hands could barely explore your body without shaking and the sounds that left his throat were just nasty. Someone would’ve thought the two of you were fucking already!

pervy!choso who gets shy when you push him down and tell him to show you his cock—what if you don’t like it? What if this is the part where you regain your moral senses and admit that you’re both horrible people who’ve done disgusting things in thought of the other?

pervy!choso who is pleasantly surprised when you get impatient and tug his dick out for yourself, his lashes fluttering whilst his lips quiver open to say something to you. He wanted to warn you about how much he cums, but your hand was already curling around his cream-smothered cock.

pervy!choso who thinks he dies when he first feels your mouth on him, your tongue darting out to taste the mess he’s made of himself, and your eyes almost appreciatively set up on his.

pervy!choso who can’t even move because of how good your lips feel wrapped around his cock. He wants to burry his fingers in your hair, push your pretty head down, fuck himself up into your throat, and more but… he can’t move for some reason.

pervy!choso who chokes when his wide tip knocks into the deepest nook of your mouth, hearing a loud sluuuurp! before he’s gasping and suddenly—you’re not in between his legs anymore..?

Oh.

That’s right. It was just another one of his daydreams.

None of that actually happened, he never confessed his acts of filth to you and you never said anything about you being just as much of a perv.

No, in reality, he’s been staring at you like a true weirdo for the past few minutes—unintentionally making weird ass noises here ‘n there because of how wrapped up in his fantasy he was.

Then you make eye contact with him all of a sudden, popping your lips off of a bright red popsicle and tilting your head, “Did you want some?”

“Huh?” He gapes.

You gesture the popsicle his way and smile all innocently, “You’re drooling and you’ve been watching me eat this for like five minutes now.”

“Y-Yeah.”

You scoff, “Yeah, what? Yeah, you want a taste? Or, yeah, you’re admitting to staring at me?”

“Both,” Then he leans forward and lightly takes your wrist into his hand, holding eye contact with you as his mouth parts. Tongue rolling out all wet with drool, “Feed it t’me, please?”

He hardly has a moment to react before you’re gliding the popsicle in between his lips, watching how his tongue eagerly laps at every inch of it before he sucks on it firmly.

…Then he accidentally moans.

Your brows shoot up and he pulls his mouth off the popsicle. Chuckling at him, “Did you just-“

“Sorry, mommy.”

“What?” You choke.

“What?”

Choso wishes this was a dream too but, based on the way you’re staring at him right now…

Yeahhhh, he might be fucked!

fic inspired by this drabble here || perm choso tags (1/2):

@yulissacastillo11 @xxvendettaxx @blcknebula @imyourightnow @cupidstrace @iiakithegoat @hellodeeyanna @navyllll @etsuniiru @not-a-glad-gladiator

@hopelissromantiq @2kool4skoolll @bbfawns @daxphoriax @gorouenjoyer @avatar4eva @broimherebcsimboredok @indiaas-priv @blubearxy @wonderfullymickey

@iaintblockinnobody @kitassecretgf @iam-souless @nanamitiddiechomper @ohreallyfriend @withersworld @suguphile @megottheswaskikacooooke @kvsqkiii @yourlocalcatscammer

@prettysexcgorgeous @themicthatyeosangwith @autistmicfool @v33326 @lucy-lulu @sukubusss @sweetieelilii @lisabelhyhn @serenadesvt @bloxdhawks

@satoruslxt @sinovi @riameriash @arminseas2 @palanggaaa @makingtimemine @theodoresvalentine @miss-f0rtun3 @jinjen @shamelessdancer

These were intense times. 

The Michigan Wolverines were right in the midst of the NCAA College Football Playoffs, and it has been weeks of non-stop practice, conditioning, strength training, and late-night film recaps for the team of 100-odd men–all in preparation for a chance at being the nation’s top seed. 

There was much on the line, especially seeing that Senior Quarterback and Captain, Toji Fushiguro, was aiming to secure his spot in the upcoming NFL draft. 

As such, his pre-game ritual (one that he has refined and perfected over the course of four years) was a strict routine backed by, and rooted down in, evidence-based science and partially unbiased statistical analyses. 

It all starts with his protein shake: two whole bananas, one cup of oats, a shit ton of peanut butter, one spoon of raw honey, four scoops of protein powder, and full-fat milk. 

Next, his attire. He needed his signature gray game-day sweats (unwashed for the past 10-games in a row), a muscle tank he’s owned and stretched out since high school, and his most industrial-grade, noise-cancelling headphones. 

As for schedule? He needed thirty minutes of privacy, unrestricted and uninterrupted access to high speed internet, and most importantly of all: he needed to watch at least two of “stargiirl_xx”’s videos prior to heading out onto the turf. 

Give him that, and he was bound to have a fuckin’ phenomenal performance on the field. 

His meaty hand was already squeezing his growing erection through his sweats, the thick outline of his cock visible against the backlight from stargiirl’s newest video loading up on his laptop screen, and his protein shake already half finished by his bedside table. 

He wasn’t just a fan. He was her #1 biggest financer. 

Though she never showed her face, he had come to memorize the curve of stargiirl’s thighs and the moles on her hips over the course of the years. He knew her room layout by heart, and diligently watched the animes that she kept posters of on her walls. 

She was the best of the best. Not showy, not performative, just purely indulging herself. 

And sure, if keeping her active meant donating a sizable portion of his D1 stipend to fund her… pursuits, well, then call him a patron of the arts. 

His dick shamelessly pulsed in his pants as the page finally stopped buffering and the title of the video loaded. 

“Lessons in Vibrations Pt I”. 

Part one?!

He knew almost immediately that tonight’s game would be a fantastic one. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

The Wolverines won their first round of the playoffs in a sweeping victory: 41-20. 

And Toji Fushiguro? Well, he was the star of the show, of course. He completed more than 85% of his passes (with six of them leading to touchdowns) and led an 80-yard rush all in a single game. He was on fire: skin buzzing with adrenaline, cool sweat dripping down his face, and his large canines glinting under the fierce stadium lights as the deafening crowds roared his name. 

“To-ji! To-ji! To-ji!”

He felt indomitable, floating on a high all the way from the stadium, to the bus, to the afterparty. 

But in the lecture hall? Well… 

His grades were barely passing for the majority of his classes, and in fact they were quite below when it came to Applied Chemical Kinetics II. 

He was truly a lost cause. 

He had missed countless of Yaga’s lectures throughout the course of the semester, promising himself that he would catch up on the review notes (he didn’t) and trying to watch the recorded lectures on the bus rides to any of the away games (he never). 

So really, it came as no surprise to anyone when he absolutely tanked his midterms those six long weeks ago. 

At the time, he was desperate. Failing class meant getting booted off the team. He needed someone who could easily cover his sorry ass for the rest of the semester, and fast. 

Therefore, the obvious choices for a final project partner were between Ijichi and, well, you. 

And, seeing as Toji Fushiguro had a pair of functioning fuckin’ eyes and a brain that lived partly in his pants, he chose the latter. 

It wasn’t easy persuading you to take him on for the project, which was something he honestly didn’t quite expect (nor was he used to). You were stoic to his ill-attempted flattery and unaffected by his usual charm. Every smile he flashed at you seemed to wither upon arrival, and every playful remark was met with nothing more than an empty stare.

In the end, desperation drove him somewhere pride never would’ve allowed before: straight into his football stipend.

“Listen. I’ll give you $300 if you can help me pass this class.”

It was the Wednesday before the Thanksgiving break, and he remembered how his words rang loud and heavy in the dusty air of the old lecture hall. Everyone had left at this point, the class long-since over.

You had stood before him unmoved, your books hugged to your chest and your normally impassive gaze slowly piquing in interest.

He remembered how you looked up at him through your lashes, and the way you tilted your head almost cutely. “Make it $400,” you said it softly, yet with little hesitation.

He remembered how he felt himself gulp, not from the number, but at the way your eyes were scanning his face like it was the first time you even noticed him. 

His hand had gripped the strap of his backpack just a little tighter. 

Though, you didn’t seem to notice as you continued. “I’ll meet you on Mondays and Thursdays only, I work every other day. And I want half as security in advance.”

You pulled out your phone, swiftly punching in your password before holding it out to him, the contacts app already open on the screen. 

For the first time in all of his college experience, he was genuinely caught off guard.

What the fuck? 

He took your phone. 

“$400?” he repeated, huffing faintly under his breath (was he amused? Annoyed? Aroused? He couldn’t tell at the time, nor does he know now) as he typed in his number. His large hands looked almost comical holding your small device. “You rob everybody like this, or am I just that special?”

He handed your phone back, his calloused fingers gently grazing your warm ones. 

“You’re failing chem,” you replied flatly. “You are not special.”

He hated how his dick twitched at your words.

But most of all, he hated how he didn’t know what to say in response.

He was the star quarterback, captain of the football team, most popular guy on campus and an undeniable chick-magnet, for god’s sake! 

His silence surprised the both of you, and you took it as your queue to leave. “See you later,” you glanced down at your phone, looking at his contact. “Fushiguro.”

You didn’t even know his fuckin’ name?!

And with that, you gently breezed past him, only offering him a small nod as you walked out of the room. The scent of your shampoo faintly caught in his nose as he tried to will his boner to stop growing in his sweats.   

After that, the break passed uneventfully, and by the time campus filled back up again and the chill of early winter settled in, your project was impossible to ignore.

He kept to his word of paying you the $200 in advance.

You kept to yours by meeting him that following Monday. 

The two of you developed a routine during the second half of the semester, meeting in libraries and cafes to review material and project timelines for the final submission. 

And during those couple of hours on the Mondays and Thursdays that he had you, he came to the haunting realization that you were so… chill. 

He was blunt, but you were blunt back. You flicked him when his head got too large, and he flicked you whenever you were too stuck in yours. He shoved you out of your shell at times, while you pulled him back down to Earth. It was rare, and so fuckin’ odd, this kind of dynamic between the two of you, the kind that goes unnoticed until suddenly you realize it’s there.

Soon, he would find himself calling your name from across the quad, and you would nod with what looked like a smile at him when you passed his row in lecture. He gave you tickets to his games (which you would resell for 200% of its value), and put your name on the list for the Kappa parties despite you never showing up. You sent him stupid instagram posts, and brought him homemade coffees whenever the two of you met post-game days. 

And thankfully for Toji, today was one of those days. 

“How’d it go?” Your voice was like honey and wine, low and smooth, as you looked up at him from behind your computer. The light from your screen illuminated halos in your eyes, and the steam from his opened thermos curled languidly in the air between you both. 

You sat across from him in a quiet, off-campus cafe. 

He grinned, smug and wolfish and borderline sleazy, as if he’d been just waiting for you to ask. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his overwhelmingly large, muscular arms over his head. He made a point to subtly flex his biceps while under your scrutiny. His shirt lifted slightly above his abdomen, and you blinked your eyes to focus on the scar on his tanned face, rather than the dark happy trail that ran down, down, down to his…

“Perfect game. You’d know if you actually came ‘round ‘n watched.” He playfully winked, his deep chuckle echoing as you gave him a deadpan stare. 

“I’m quite alright, Fushiguro.” He pouted in mock defeat as you looked back down at your screen. The battery symbol on your laptop flashed red in warning: low power. 

You’d only been there for thirty minutes and you could’ve sworn you charged the damn thing last night. Sure, your outlets were kind of fucked, and sure this was a twelve year old laptop with a battery life the size of a peanut, but surely it wouldn’t give out on you this early in the day?!

You exhaled a long breath. The thought of putting money down for a new computer made your heart physically ache. 

The two of you (mainly you) had just started to make headway with the report (“flow state”, as Toji would call it), and you knew you wouldn’t have a chance to work on the project again until after your Wednesday shift. “You got a charger on you?” 

He scoffed, almost offendedly. “Wanna try askin’ that again sweetheart?” He tsked you lightly. 

You rolled your eyes, a heavy sigh tumbling out of your soft lips. 

“Forget it. I know you don’t,” there was something prickly beneath your uncaring tone, and he curiously paused to examine you. 

He could see the faint circles under your eyes that you tried to cover with concealer, the way your shoulders sagged slightly from the weight of your backpack as you lifted it from the seat beside you, and the brief glimpse of all the mini bookmarks sticking out of your planner as you dropped it inside the bag. 

“I guess we’ll have to call it here then. I’d need to go back to my apartment and grab my charger to do anything else.”

And, perhaps it was because the two of you had formed this unexpected bond over the past several weeks, something deep and quiet and far more important than Toji would ever willingly name, that the weight of being the weakest link finally made Toji Fushiguro feel the heavy hammer of guilt bury deep within his hardened chest. 

A moment passed before he cleared his throat, holding up his hand. 

“Or…” the words were slow to move out of his mouth, embarrassment thickening in his throat. “Why don’t we work there?” You stared at him, almost startled, as if he’d grown another head. His ears warmed under the intensity of your gaze as he continued. “I still got power, I can keep goin’ if you’re down.” 

His triceps flexed as he scratched the back of his neck, tan skin pulling taut as he looked away. 

“It’s a small place,” you warned. 

He shrugged, his voice catching in his throat at the way you were holding his gaze. “I don’t mind. I’d go any place you choose.”

He paused, his eyes widening slightly at the words that tumbled out of his mouth, as if he didn’t realize what he said until after he said them. 

You breathed, and a beat passed before a small, pretty smile pulled across your features – the first he’s ever gotten from you like this. And this time, your tired eyes warmed into something soft, something akin to appreciation, something new.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay, then I’d like that.” You tilted your head slightly, and his heart thumped oddly loud in his muscular chest. “Thank you, Toji.”

For just the briefest of moments, you looked at him as if he had just offered the world. 

All he could do was swallow and nod. 

He didn’t even realize you called him by his first name until you were both out the door. 

The walk to your apartment was comfortably silent. Despite Toji’s taller stature and athletic build, he wordlessly matched your slower pace, walking between you and the road. 

Your apartment was situated right on the outskirts of campus; too close to drive, but too cumbersome to walk. He quietly marveled at your resolution to go in person to class every day, especially when he had difficulty hauling his ass to the lecture hall that was just a block over from frat row. 

The taller man was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even realize how close he was standing to you as you both paused at your front doorstep. His towering frame loomed over you, and he could feel the heat of your body as you dug through your bag, and he could see the goosebumps that rose on your neck when your arm accidentally grazed against his abdomen. 

Your keys softly clinked! together as you unlocked the front door.

And, there was something faintly intimate about being led up the creaky wooden steps to your 3rd floor apartment, your hips gently swaying in his face with each ascent up, and your soft hands lightly tracing the railing in your wake.

He intrusively thought about reaching out to touch your fingers, to run his hand along the curve of your waist–

He coughed lightly.

What was he thinking?

As you opened your apartment’s door, he was immediately hit with the light smell of lemon and jasmine. 

Your place was small but tidy; a one-bedroom attic apartment where the kitchen and living area blurred together, soaking in the same sunlit space. Despite its size, it carried your mark: two types of server aprons hung on the coat rack, a soft crocheted throw blanket you made draped over the worn couch, and a set of reading glasses laying beside a hand-painted mug on your round window table.

It was cute; homely. A small glimpse into your life outside of class.

“You can start getting set up in here, I’ll just grab my charger from my room.” You spoke quietly as you led him to the table. 

You silently turned before he could respond, padding across the old wooden floors to the door that was directly across from where he had set his bag down. 

He had only just started typing his password into his computer when he lazily looked up, his dark eyes catching the movement from your room. 

And, holy shit. 

No. 

There was genuinely no way in hell. 

He was scrambling up out of your wobbly kitchen chair before his mind could even register it. 

His body felt as if it were moving through water, and his brain felt like jam. Was that his own blood roaring past his ears or his soul escaping his body? 

Cool beads of sweat began to form on his neck, tickling at the ends of his dark, grungy hair. He had crossed the width of your apartment in three long strides, until suddenly he was at your doorframe, his large body leaning against it like it was a lifeline, and his scarred mouth parted into the dumbest looking “o”.

His wild eyes scanned your room fervently. The walls, the Cowboy Bebop poster by your bedframe, the pale linen sheets, the empty vase on your bedside table and the stack of yellowing paper backs in the corner of it. 

Everything looked familiar.

Scratch that. Everything looked the same. The same as–

“Can I help you?” 

You were on all fours. All fuckin’ fours. 

You tilted your head up to face him, taking a pause from wiggling the stubborn plug out of the ancient socket underneath your desk.

And… could you? Can you? He was at a genuine loss for words. 

All he could do was stare dumbly, his large fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, and his body emanating a heat that he prayed to god wasn’t visible from where you were.

“Uh. Y-you got a bathroom up here??” 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

He scoured through every single video and rewatched every single clip that night.

The furniture, the decor, the walls, the window placement: everything was the same.

And so, the verdict was in: you–his quiet, guarded, asocial, and steely chem partner–were none other than stargiirl herself. 

What. The. Fuck. 

It was confusing to wrap his head around, this whole stargiirl-chemgirl business. But would he go as far to say that it wasn’t attractive? That he didn’t pop a boner every time he thought about it? 

No. He couldn’t. He’d never.

Was this divine intervention or his own personal hell? 

He couldn’t tell.

What does this mean? How should he act?  What does he fucking do with this information now?

He rubbed his temples before running a tense hand through his hair. At the same time, a notification popped up on his computer. 

“Check out a new post from stargiirl_xx !”

He could feel the blood in his veins thumping against his skin. 

“Don’t do it. Please don’t fucking do it-” he mumbled. 

He tapped into the link despite himself. 

“Lessons In Vibration Pt II”

He wordlessly clicked the play button on the video. 

For a moment, he thought his screen was buffering. The camera was set up to look out onto your bed, though you were not in frame yet, presumably twiddling with the settings of your camera. 

But when you finally did walk into view, his heart nearly imploded. 

The frame only showed you from the mouth down, your identity mainly concealed. You were bottomless, bare legs walking across the floor as you situated yourself on your bed. The only piece of clothing you did have on was an overlarge sweatshirt, his sweatshirt, one that he, in his panicked daze to get out of your apartment earlier, forgot he had left behind. 

He didn’t dare breathe, nor could he move. His head was craned so close to his computer, as if he wanted to go through the screen itself just to get a better look. 

He noted how his hoodie fell past your ass, large and consuming and honestly? So fuckin’ perfect on you.

You were nearing the end of your normal introduction, and he realized you spoke differently on video, low and confident and sensual and hypnotic.

“I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about my content throughout the years,” your hands started to draaag the bottom of his hoodie up, letting it bunch just slightly above the dip of your waist, enunciating your curves. “-And I’ve realized I’ve never had a partner during any of them.”

The comments on the side bar started to flood through, hundreds of viewers already volunteering themselves to be your +1. 

His jaw ticked, hard.

“I think,” you leaned forward like you were sharing a secret. Toji gripped onto his computer until a faint pop! could be heard of one of the inner screws coming loose. “I think I would like to change that in the future,” and then you smiled, really smiled, a full, playful grin wiping across your features in a way he had never been able to see in person before. 

His dick bobbed in his pants. 

This could not be happening to him right now. 

You continued, “but for now, welcome back to my Lessons in Vibrations series.”

He watched as you started introducing the toys you would be using today, before you slowly began to touch yourself, teasingly showing glimpses of the purple lace panties you had on underneath his hoodie. 

And he couldn’t help it, really. 

Because when you started rubbing your vibrator against your clit, your deft fingers plunging skillfully into your cunt, soft whimpers escaping your lips as your pussy started squelching out a fucking melody – all while wearing his fuckin’ sweatshirt – what the fuck else was he supposed to do?

His sweats were already halfway down his thighs, and his meaty hand greedily pumping his own cock in sync to you fucking yourself on your fingers. 

He watched hungrily as you pushed his sweatshirt up further along your body, exposing your stomach, teasing the view of your bare tits. He bit back a groan at the thought of your scent lingering in the fabric, and prayed to whatever deity above that you wouldn’t wash it out before he got it back. 

Below, your fingers languidly teased the head of your vibrator against your entrance. It was the insertable kind, with a slender tip and curved body, the type that had your hole trying to suck up the device with every rub against your dripping slit. 

He could feel the veins in his cock pulsing hotly in anticipation, pushing up thick pearls of precum out onto his flared tip. 

He wondered what it would be like to slip his shaft against your drenched pussy lips, to massage the underside of his cockhead against the tight ring of your entrance, to feel you squeezing around him, and to hear the sounds you would make just for him. 

He gulped, cool sweat starting to form on his brow. You were beginning to fuck the device into you, pumping the vibrator in and out and in and out. He could see your legs trembling, your juices starting to  uncontrollably splash outside of you, and your pussylips fluttering with every bzzz bzz bzzzzzt of the vibrator fucking and swirling and massaging into your g-spot. 

He was matching your pace, furiously pumping his dick, thinking about how you looked on all fours earlier, thinking about how you smiled when you called him his name, thinking about how you look when you concentrate and the mole above your brow, thinking about the coffee you made for him and the weird shitposts you sent and the way you could look at him like he was nothing, and everything, all at the same time.

And suddenly, he wasn’t climaxing to the stargiirl he had always seen on screen.

It was his tough, quiet, calm chem partner. 

And as he shot hot spurts of thick, ropey cum all the way from his dick to his chin (the most he’s ever released before), he realized only one thing. 

He just finished to the thought of you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Toji Fushiguro had a problem. 

No, scratch that. 

He had a fucking crisis. 

It was drill day, and his head was absolutely nowhere near the turf. He fumbled balls, missed targets, and was a full thirty-seconds under his usual sprint times. 

And that was only how one of his practices went this week. 

It had been five whole days since he last saw you. 

Five days of being dogshit at his sport. 

Five days of holing up in his frat, avoiding campus, avoiding class, avoiding your texts, avoiding you.

It’s not like he wanted to do this, but he didn’t know what to do, how to act, or what to even say. 

How could he talk to you casually while knowing he’s given probably a third of his checks to you? How could he be normal in your presence knowing that he’s watched every single one of your streams, and in turn has finished an embarrassing amount of times to each of them?

How could he trust himself when the thought of you alone had his heart pounding so hard his ears hurt? Or how his chest squeezed so tight he almost went to urgent care, just because you texted asking where he’s been and if he was okay? 

How could he face you, knowing that he somehow developed the largest, fattest, most egregious fuckin’ crush on you?!

And, for the record, Toji Fushiguro did not do crushes. He hadn’t necessarily “ran through” the entire roster of available chicks on campus, but he did have an occasional fling, nothing serious, nothing long, nothing that would distract him from football and his dreams.

He was known as the campus heartthrob and heartbreaker. He was Mr. Non-Chalant, Mr. Everybody-Wants-A-Piece-of-Him, and Mr. I-Don’t-Get-Attached all wrapped up in one 6’4, 230 lbs body. 

A crush? That was new, unexplored territory for him. 

He stared down at your last texts to him.

⭐️(Thursday, 12:03pm): i got us a nice spot!! im sitting on 2nd floor @ clark  ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Ba-dump!

⭐️(Thursday, 12:18pm): knock knock, is mr. toji theree 

Ba-dump! Ba-dump!

⭐️(Thursday, 12:56pm): hey, is everythin ok? r we still on for today?

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump–

⭐️(Saturday, 10:01am): r u alive

It physically sickened him that he couldn’t get his cowardly fingers to just fucking write back. But every time he opened up your text chain, all he could do was stare. 

Which is exactly why he couldn’t see you yet. 

He needed time. 

He needed space. 

He needed to get this shit under control.

Fortunately (or unfortunately) for him, the Kappa Epsilon fraternity was throwing a rager tonight. With the group of men only one week out from the next bracket of playoffs, this would be the last night the football frat would get to drink together for a while if they were to make it to the finals. 

It would be the perfect distraction. 

About an hour or so into the party and he was buzzed. He absolutely demolished that shithead Ryomen in beer pong, crushed a pack of PBRs, and now was cooling off in the kitchen, his body feeling swimmy and light. 

He reached for his phone. Maybe, just maybe, if he looked at your messages again for the umpteenth time today, maybe he would know what to say, maybe he–

“Ah, so you can come out and party but ignore all of my texts?”

His heart did that stupid thing where it pounded so hard against his chest he wondered if his ribs bruised. 

Despite the booming of the bass coming from the room over, and the idle chatter of randoms idling in the kitchen, he could hear the dry, unimpressed, and entirely too familiar voice coming directly from behind him. 

He turned, his eyes lowering to find you, as if it was muscle memory, as if it was his second nature. 

You never showed up to these parties (and trust, he has invited you to them all). Yet here you were, your body leaned up against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over your chest, and your hair falling around your frame. 

He grinned, the buzz in his head making it easy for a stupidly cheeky and wide and boyish smile to plaster onto his face. (a/n: toji has a hung smile. Okay? Okay.). 

“Hey, party animal,” he said, almost dreamily. 

The top you wore clung to you like a second skin, accentuating the swells of your breasts and the dip of your waist: features that you usually hid underneath your normal, bulkier campus-attire. 

He was indecisive, his eyes bouncing between the unreadable look on your face to the sliver of exposed skin right above your miniskirt. 

You looked good, really fuckin’ good. 

Your eyes widened, before your cheeks blushed the prettiest shade of red, your manicured fingers tightening around the plastic solo cup you were holding

Did he say that outloud?!

You straightened, steeling yourself, willing the warmth in your cheeks to go away. “You’ve ignored me for five days, Fushiguro-” your voice was firm and cool, cutting sharply through the noise of the party.

Back to the last name basis. 

You looked away, before adding, “-and you ditched me on Thursday.” You spoke that last part softly, deliberately, a look of sadness flashing briefly in your pretty, doe-like eyes. 

A dull pang rippled through his chest. 

He knew the implications of your words – the two of you never missed a meetup since this whole “deal” started. 

And, like those days in the libraries or cafes where he found himself sitting before you, following your every word and direction, he now found himself moving towards you, a small pout forming on his scarred lips, as his strong arms caged you in until you were wedged between himself and the counter. 

And, you knew he was huge before. 

But now, up close, you realized just how large he was - his broad shoulders obscuring your view, his muscular chest rippling under the tight black shirt he wore, and his huge hands riddled with veins that climbed up, up, up his forearms. 

He was overwhelming and all-consuming, surrounding your senses with the kind of intensity only he alone could pull off. You breathed in, your chest rising, fighting against the cotton of your ill-fitting top. He smelled of fresh pine and warm leather, clean and raw and manly. 

You came here pissed, but now found your resolve completely fogged and muddled. 

He leaned forward, dipping his head low, until his shaggy fringe tickled softly against the shell of your ear. 

You knew he had been drinking, but the question was, did he know what he was doing right now? Was this purposeful? Was this real? You couldn’t quite tell, but the way his breath stuttered as his nose traced light patterns into your neck, the way he was breathing you in, and the way his hands periodically clenched onto the countertop as if to restrain himself, told you he was at least semi aware of what he was doing. 

Your heart was hammering in your chest. The two of you never stood this close before, let alone touched each other. 

You turned your head slightly, trying to put at least some ounce of space between your face and his.

But for him? That just would not do. 

He slowly pulled away from your neck, his nose lightly mapping a path from the base of your neck, across the soft expanse of your cheek, to the tip of your own. Noses brushing, breaths mingling, chests heaving, and hearts pounding as his scarred lips hovered your glossed ones. 

“Why have you been avoiding me?” 

The air between you was warm and thick, charged with something tender and so deeply intimate. 

“Because you scare me,” he mumbled. 

“Oh, really?” Your mouth twitched. 

“Mm.” He nodded once, nose rubbing softly against yours in an eskimo kiss. You could see how his eyes were dark and heavy-lidded, lips dangerously close to pressing against yours.

“‘Think ya cursed me.” His neck flushed red, his low voice was barely above a whisper. 

“I can go-”

“Don’t.”

And then his large hands were latching onto your waist, the heat of his skin searing through the thin material of your skirt. 

“Don’t. Don’tDon’tDon’t.” His brows scrunched together, his face becoming serious. “Don’t go. Don’t leave. Not when you’re here, with me, pretty girl.” 

You breathed, taking your time to steady your voice after hearing the pet name roll off his tongue. “Then what should I do?”

“Stay.”

It was as simple as that, really. 

And then his lips were on yours, warm and soft and commanding. He kissed you like you were sin, drinking you in, savoring you on his tongue, before inevitably, always inevitably, going back for more. He didn’t let you breathe; he wouldn’t. He was greedy and wrong and possessive, claiming your mouth like it was his alone to conquer. Your knees weakened as his tongue massaged against yours addictively, molding against you like you were made for him; like he was made for you. 

Your hands moved before you could think, before you could decide if you were angry with him or if you hungered for him. You found purchase on his broad shoulders, before making your way up, up, up to his neck, one hand running through his dark hair while the other held onto the underside of his strong jaw, thumb gently caressing the scar on the side of his mouth, pulling him in.

He pressed into you further, your ass hitting the lower counter. His body was flush against yours, his chest purposefully rubbing against your tits. 

He could feel your nipples hardening through the flimsy cotton of your top, and he couldn’t stop the sleazy grin that was forming on his face. 

Below, his grip on you was gentle but firm, bringing your body to press and grind against his in an unhurried, languid way, like he had all the time in the world, like all of this was fated from the start. 

And his fingers, oh his fingers, which spanned across your hip, slowly found their way to your ass, gripping and cupping and kneading into the soft, jiggly flesh. 

You could feel something move against your thigh, something sturdy and heavy and completely fucking monstruous. 

“Haah-” you shakily sighed out, breathy and dazed as you looked down to the outline of his bulge. Your eyes widened. 

“I like when you use that smart mouth, y’know,” he was talking against your lips, not able to find it in himself to pull away. His hand slid up the side of your waist, until he stopped right underneath your breast, his thumb rubbing against the underside of where it started to swell. 

His voice dropped an octave lower, whispering to you like it was a secret. “Talk to me. Break this curse. Tell me it’s not just me that feels like this.” 

Please.

His heart was racing. He was stone cold sober. This was it. This was his admission. 

ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump–

You breathed. 

The party raged on in the background, muddled and distant, like his ears were submerged under water–

“It’s not just you, Toji.” 

Your voice was quiet, your cheeks tinted rouge, your pretty eyes looking up at him in earnest. 

And that was all he needed. 

He picked you up like you were nothing (his bench was 350 lbs, squat 600 lbs, and his hip thrusts? don’t even worry ‘bout it), a smug, victorious grin tugging at his scarred lips.

He carried you out of the kitchen, and a steady stream of wolf whistles and howls erupted from his frat brothers and party goers as the two of you made your way across the foyer, up the stairs, and towards a bedroom. His bedroom. 

He carried you inside, keeping the lights off, letting the warm glow of the streetlamp beside his window spill softly across the room. Without a word, he set you down on his large king-sized bed.

The air in his room was tender and still. You could hear the faint bass of the stereo downstairs, vibrating against his wooden floors like a heartbeat. The distant cheers of the crowd down below faded to quiet as he pressed his mouth to your own. 

He leisurely climbed over you, never breaking the kiss, his muscular arms holding his body above your own. 

It didn’t take long for the makeout to turn heated again, teeth clashing against teeth, bodies pressed against each other, rubbing and teasing in a way that had your head spinning.

You put your hands against his chest. 

“Toji-”

“Stay,” he breathed, whispering the words against your lips, like he could read your mind. “-Stay with me tonight,” he pressed his body closer into you, rutting his hips, “and lemme show you the things I’ve been wantin’ to say to you all week.”

You could feel his cock twitch ominously against your bare thigh as you swallowed. 

His lips were swollen and glistening from your mixed salivas, his eyes glazed over, jade irises almost completely black. His grip on your lower body was unrelenting, holding you in place. 

You lightly pushed your hand against his chest, a hesitant look crossing your features.

A beat passed. For a second, he didn’t even realize he stopped breathing. 

“You’ve been drinking,” You paused, your voice coming out small. “What if.. what if you don’t mean this in the morning?” 

And for all your expertise and genius, oh, how completely wrong you could be.

He let out a humorless chuckle, his sharp canines peaking through his lips in the process. 

“Did it sound like I was jokin’, sweetheart?” He shakily exhaled through his nose as he pressed his erection against your clothed cunt, holding himself there, letting you feel the pressure and full weight of what he was packing. “Does it feel like I’m jokin’ ‘bout this?” 

You bit your lip, pussy throbbing, a warm slickness starting to soak through your panties, before messily spreading between your clenched thighs. 

You shook your head. 

“What’d I say about usin’ your words?”

He pulsed his dick, the sensation making your pussy clench. 

Fuckin’ tease. 

“Nngh- no. No it doesn’t feel like you’re joking,” you almost gasp out. 

A satisfied smirk plastered onto his tanned face.

“Good girl.” 

And then he’s moving down the bed, his calloused hands spreading your legs as he pressed wet kisses against the hot skin of your thighs. He was methodical and slow, making his way up your inner thigh, savoring the small sounds that you tried to suppress as he reached the bottom hem of your skirt, his face mere inches away from your sopping pussy, and his breath puffing warm air against your dampened panties . 

“Ohhh jus’ look at ya,” you could tell he had the most shit-eating grin on his face right now, pride swelling in his voice as he carefully dipped a large, rough finger between the seam of the thin purple fabric you adorned. “This all f’me?”

And - Holy shit.

The videos of you didn’t even do this justice. 

Because low and behold, here you were, under his body, and you were so fuckin’ wet. His finger slid against your folds with little resistance, putting just enough pressure that you couldn’t help but moan his name as he rubbed circles against your clit.

And, Toji Fushiguro never claimed to be a patient man. So, it should’ve came as no surprise when he grabbed your hips and used his hulking strength to push your clothed pussy to his scarred lips, his face nuzzled to your cunt, nose pressed firmly to your clit, and his greedy tongue lapping you up through the soiled fabric. 

It was obscene and perverse and dirty and wrong. 

But oh, how he loved it. Loved the heady taste you left on your panties, and the sweet scent of your gushing pussy, and the excess slick on your thighs that made its way onto his rough cheeks. 

He groaned, a low, guttural sound against your skin that made your tummy squeeze into knots. 

“T-Toji, please,” you whined, pressing your greedy cunt into his face, “need your tongue. Need you. Need more.” You could hardly string a true sentence together, and he hadn’t even fucked you proper yet. 

His heart was thunderous against his chest. 

And his dick? 

Hardest it’s ever fuckin’ been in his fuckin’ life.

He was grinding his erection against the mattress as he obliged your wishes.

After all, how could he say no to you? 

He pushed your panties to the side. 

And oh. 

His balls tightened below him, the urge to cum almost threateningly near as he stared at your bare, swollen pussy. 

Holy. Shit.

Everything was soaked and glistening. 

He rubbed one thumb across your puffy skin, his coarse finger getting soaked in the process. 

He leaned in, gingerly licking fat stripes along your folds, lapping you up, drinking you in. He worked thoroughly, gathering you onto his tongue, until the lower part of his face was a mixture of your juices and his drool. 

It was only after he was satisfied with his work did he make his way to your clit, humming and sucking, the wet sounds of his mouth making out with your cunt filling the air of his room. 

The warm pleasure of it all was beginning to pool in your belly, your toes beginning to curl, legs beginning to shake – but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. 

“Toji, I might-” 

He plunged a rough, thick finger inside you, spearing your tight velvet walls apart, all the way up to his knuckle. 

You saw fuckin’ stars.

The sound you made was so erotic, so loud and depraved and raw, that his dick lurched in his pants, warm gooey pre-cum beginning to leak out from his throbbing tip and into his briefs. 

He wanted to hear you again, and again and again and again. 

He wanted videos, home movies, and spotify playlists of the way your pussy was talking to him. 

Emboldened, his tongue was unrelenting on your clit, as one finger became two, and then two became three. 

You mewled as he crooked them up, massaging against that soft, spongey bundle of nerves that had you panting his name out like it was prayer. 

Your ears were ringing, your eyes beginning to get wet with tears. 

Soon, he was fucking you on his fingers proper, setting a debilitating pace as he plunged his digits in and out and in and out. Filling you up, stretching you out, hitting your most sensitive areas. Again, and again, and again.

The pressure in your core was reaching its limits now, and the pleasure from the sheer fullness of your pussy and the sinful patterns of his tongue were beginning to send violent tremors down your legs. 

You were orgasming before you even realized it.

And yet, he was didn’t stop – didn’t even give you time to breathe as he’s diving into your pussy, slurping you up, his large nose rubbing against your over-sensitive clit as he’s fucking his thick tongue and his fingers past the tight ring of your entrance, fucking you, warm and wet, through each of your peaks. 

Your hands held onto his hair like a lifeline, your fleshy thighs locked around his head as if to keep him in place. 

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he moaned, his eyes glazed over, completely and utterly pussy drunk, as you looked down at him, his mouth still latched onto your cunt. 

You could see your slick dripping down his face, mixing with the light trails of perspiration that sprouted from his temples. 

Your heart squeezed in your chest. 

It was only after the last few waves of your orgasm subsided when you could finally respond. 

“I think,” you gently reached down to run your shaky hand through his scalp, tenderly pushing away the sweaty fringe by his eyes. “I think I can think of something that might taste better.” 

And then you’re pushing him until he’s moving to the top of the bed, his back resting against the headboard as he pulls his black shirt up and over his head, triceps flexing, exposing his muscular pecs, washboard abs, and the light tufts of hair that sprouted on his chest, and got increasingly darker the further down his abs it went. 

You could feel your pussy walls clamp down, warmth pooling in your core again as you reached out instinctively to run your hands along the length of his torso. 

You never thought, in all of your wildest dreams, that this would be happening. Nor could your dreams do justice to the perfect build of the man before you.

“Well look at you, Mr. Fushiguro.” Your soft hands slowly sliding up, up, up against his skin, all the way from where the dark tufts of thick hair started to disappear under his pants, and towards his pecs, feeling the way his traitorous heart stuttered as you called his name. “Aren’t you quite the heartbreaker.”

You held his gaze, the air around you charged with anticipation.

Who would move first?

His breathing was shallow as he stared at you, your cheeks flushed and eyes glazed. Your top was rumpled to hell, exposing the line of your cleavage in a way that had his pants tenting painfully, and your mini skirt was so far scrunched that it looked like a belt around your waist. 

“For others, sure…” He grabbed your hands, pressing them deeper into his skin as he slid them up to cup his face. “But for you?” he was whispering now, his ears growing steadily pinker by the second, “I’m afraid you have me beat.” 

Oh. 

And then you’re leaning in, tenderly pressing your lips to his own, mumbling his name over and over again to stop you from saying those other three little words, before sealing it with your tongue. 

And then he’s pulling you into his lap. 

You could taste yourself in his mouth and on his lips, your nipples tightening as his large hands grabbed handfuls of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart before making them clap together again. 

A muffled groan escaped from the depths of his chest, vibrating against your mouth, as he felt new gushes of your slick begin to dampen the front of his pants.

“Mmmnh- get comfortable, pretty girl.” He slurred out as he pulled at the waistband of your skirt, before letting go, allowing the material to slap against your skin with a light sting. 

“Hmm… only if daddy gets comfortable too.” your eyes were big as you stared at him through your lashes.  

And oh fuck.

Toji had to lean his head back, his skull hitting against the wall with a dull thud! 

The way the words left your mouth had him breathless, brain short-circuiting, and dick throbbing. He needed to recuperate. Calm down.

Breathe in. Exhale. Repeat. 

You smiled slyly, completely aware of how your words affected him, as you pulled your flimsy top off, followed by your bottomwear. Your tits were heavy and full as they were released from the cotton, nipples peaked and stiff. 

You were bare before him, your arms on either side of his hips, squeezing your tits together lightly as you bent low to whisper against his ear. 

“You like when I call you that?” Your voice was sweet as honey as your hands traced the large outline of his dick through his pants, gripping his shaft through the tight material, and feeling the monstrous size of his girth. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” his voice was a mixture of restraint and warning, “don’t start callin’ me that unless y’er tryna see it through.” His neck was visibly tense, and his hands clutched on to the meat of your hips as he stared at you. 

Pretty girl. 

He squeezed tighter.

His pretty girl. 

A moment of silence passed as you considered his words. “And what if I do wanna see it through…?” Your head tilted cutely while your mean hands found their way to his happy trail, running your nails down through the thick tufts of dark hair, dipping juuust below the waistband of his pants, before retreating back up again in slow, agonizing loops. “Show me your worst, daddy.”

And who was he to deny you? 

Before you knew it, he had his pants and briefs shoved down his legs, his massive cock heavily thudding against his washboard abs

Your mouth gaped open.

And ohhh how he relished the dumb look on your lil’ cute face.  

You didn’t even think anyone could be this large. 

Yet here he was, with a dick that looked like it belonged in a porno, pulsing fat and heavy and huge as he leaked pre-cum all over the angry mushroomed head. 

He smirked, cocky as ever, as you subconsciously licked your lips, eyes glazed over, cock drunk just off the look alone.

Your pussy gushed warm, new slick between your legs as you carefully leant down, your hands grabbing around his base, slowly bringing his dick closer to your face.

He could feel the warm puffs of air coming from ur plush lips, his dick twitching like crazy at how close you were to finally, finally getting your mouth on him. 

You pressed a gentle kiss to his leaking slit, before running your lips over the excess pre-cum, painting your lips with the milky substance.

He swallowed hard. His eyes were wild and his breathing ragged.

He groped your tits, rolling your stiff nipples in his calloused fingers, eliciting the sweetest moan from you that reverberated around his dick.

You gave him small kitten licks at first, teasing the idea, before gradually licking thick fat stripes up and down the length of his huge dick. You traced the pulsing veins that climbed up his hot shaft and licked around the sensitive underside of his throbbing cockhead. 

And it was only when his chest was heaving, his impatient hands gripping onto your skull, did you finally, finally begin to throat fuck the shit outta him. 

None of the videos he had watched of you before even came close to the sensation of seeing the bulge forming in your throat from where his cock was buried inside of you, or the way your nose tickled against the tufts of dark hair at the base of his cock. 

You moaned dreamily around him at the feeling of his heavy dick pounding against the back of your throat, filling your mouth and overwhelming your senses. You couldn’t help the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes as you bobbed him in your mouth, hands jerking off what you couldn’t reach, and your thighs rubbing together greedily, craving any ounce of friction against your throbbing pussy.

But before you knew it, he was lifting you off, a light string of saliva following en suit, connecting the two of you together. 

“What’s wrong?” You had a devilish grin on your pretty face. “Scared you're gonna cum too quick?”

A low, humorless chuckle rumbled through his body as one of his hands wrapped around your throat, while the other smacked your ass. 

“Nah,” his canines glinted in the lowlight, a predatorial grin etching into his features. “Just tryna make sure nothin’ gets wasted.” And then he's shifting you up, rubbing his thick cock against your gooey cunt, mixing his thick pre with your juices. 

Your heart fluttered.

His dick was so warm against your skin – so, so much better (and bigger) than the toys you regularly used to get yourself off. 

You’ve had enough. You’ve done your waiting. You needed him inside you. 

You lifted yourself up, your hands bracing themselves on either side of Toji’s broad shoulders. Your pussy was dripping down onto his angry dick as you slowly lowered yourself, hips circling, letting his throbbing head trace your sopping lips. 

He could have almost passed out from the sight alone.

Instead, he panted out a deep breath, his chest tightening as he tried to restrain himself from bucking up into your cunt. 

You paused your hips, lowering yourself again ever so slightly so that his leaking head was now smooching against your gummy entrance, the heat of his cock stirring something warm and familiar in your belly. 

Please, please, please, ple–

And then your pussy is swallowing his head whole. 

“Oh, fuuuck you’re tight mama,” his eyes squeezed shut, fringe sticking to his sweaty forehead as Toji gasped out at the sensation of his thiiick cockhead squeezing past the tight ring of muscles at your entrance. 

Your gummy walls sucked against him from all angles, squishing into his hardness and rubbing deliciously against the sensitive underside of his mushroomed tip. 

And this was just the tip.

He didn’t know if he would make it out of here alive. At least, without getting you pregnant. 

You whimpered, actually fuckin’ whimpered his name as you reached down, touching where he was spearing you apart, your lips drawn thin and tight to accommodate for the sheer size of him. 

“You’re so big Toji,” a tear rolled down your flushed cheek. “Look at how much more I gotta take.” And he did, he really did look. Because you began to let your finger slowly slide from where the two of you were connected, down, down, down to the tufts of hair at the base of his cock.

“Haah- Ya’ think it’ll fit, sweetheart?” He grunted, his lips involuntarily bucking as you pouted cutely at him. 

Something impassable flashed across your feature. “I’ll make it fuckin’ fit.”

And then you’re slamming down onto his dick, and it feels like the literal wind gets knocked out of both of your chests. 

He has never felt something so deliciously tight before.

You have never felt so goddamn filled up before.

You’re clenching around him, velvet walls fluttering and smooching around his raw cock as it pulses heavy and thick with animalistic need. 

It took you several moments to orient yourself, to gather your scrambled senses back together to remember what you were doing, what your goal was, why you were here. 

“I have a secret to tell you.” You stared down at him, an unreadable look passing over your features. 

“O-oh really?” you squeezed your walls around him, catching him off guard.

“I know you watch me touch myself,” you whispered it like it was a secret, sly and just a touch proud.

And of all the things you could’ve said, nothing would have prepared him for that.

His dick bobbed from inside of you. 

“Fushi-daddy420 isn’t the most subtlest of names, no?” you grinned meanly as you watched his jade eyes turn impossibly black as you began to slowly, teasingly, mercifully bounce on his cock. Up and down and up and down. 

“But-?”

He thought you would hate him if you knew. 

He agonized for days for this reaction?!!

“And after you ran out on me after seeing my place?” you were panting, riding him as you talked. “Yea, that kinda solidified it.”

And just when he thinks you’ve found your rhythm and set your pace, you slowly begin to circle your hips, hitting new angles deep inside your guts that have his throbbing tip pressing into the spongy part of your pussy. 

“You don’t -fuhh- don’t hate me?” his mind was swirling, how could he focus when you felt this good?

“Never.” Your hips rolled, and you pressed your tits together, giving him a show.  

And you were doing so well, and felt so good. He pressed a fat thumb against your clit, spelling out his name, as if to claim you, mark you, over and over and over again. 

T-O-J-I !

He throws his head back as he feels you creaming around his cock, while your eyes are rolling into the backs of your head as you feel his thick goopy pre frothing at your entrance, dripping down onto his balls. The pace is getting faster, the air getting hot, and thick beads of sweat are rolling down your back. The obscene sounds of sweaty skin slapping against skin filled the hot, sex-scented air. 

You lean down to kiss him, tongues messily entangling, drool spilling from the sides of your lips as you ride his cock like a fuckin’ animal, ass jiggling from the force of his hips rocking up to meet you, his heavy balls smacking against your pussy like a promise. 

In one swift motion, he’s flipping the two of you over, your back to the bed, his dick never leaving your pussy, as he continues to fuck into you. He has your legs spread wide, your knees to his sides as he buries himself deep within your warmth, the new angle allowing you to feel his fat tip smooching against your cervix.

He’s panting, breath shaky as he slows down, rutting shallowly, not allowing himself to be too far from your gummy insides. “T-tell me where you want it,” his voice came out strained, and you could see where his veins were protruding on his neck. 

Oh. His cum.

His balls were pressed against you, tightening with every passing second. You could feel his dick bobbing against your walls as he was direly trying to stop himself from cumming. 

You smiled, soft and sweet, as you pressed a hand against your lower tummy, feeling the bulge of where he was nestled inside you. 

“Oh, you already know,” and you were batting your pretty lashes up at him, making his heart stutter. “Isn’t that right, daddy?” 

And oh, how his broken mind snapped. 

The next thing you knew, he’s pressing your knees so far up they’re knocking against your tits, his hulking body leaning over and pressing down into you, chest against chest, until you could feel his warm lips sucking bruises by your ear. 

And then he’s draaagging his thick cock through your pussy until only the tip is inside you, before snapping his hips forward, forcing his cock the deepest it could go back inside you, spearing you apart, and setting an absolutely cruel, delicious, depraved pace that has his balls bruising your ass and his cock breeching your womb. 

It goes for what feels like seconds, minutes, hours.

Your legs began to shake at all the sensations, your pussy walls convulsing around him and your ears ringing as you started to see white. 

And he truly couldn’t keep it in any longer. 

Not when you sounded so hot, with your face scrunched up in the prettiest ‘o’ and your nails digging crescents into his back as you called his name, begging for his seed. 

And so he bucked up, his hips flush against yours, locking you into the meanest of mating presses, as his dick lurched, balls scrunching, as he pumped copious amounts of his thick, sticky cum straight into your womb.

And he’s still bucking his hips, through each of your peaks, fucking his cum deep inside you, until your belly was bloated and full of him.

“Thattaa girl,” he pressed a warm kiss to your mouth as he fucked you through the last few peaks of your orgasms, gingerly swiping his thumb across your cheek as if you were something precious. “My girl.”

And later on, as you softly drifted to sleep, with a belly full of his cum and his softening dick still inside you, you could feel his scarred lips pressing light kisses across your face, and the mumblings of something that sounded vaguely too close to “iloveyou” whispered into your warm skin.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Five weeks passed, and the Michigan Wolverines were in the midst of the NCAA College Football Championships.

After weeks of non-stop practice, conditioning, strength training, and late-night film recaps, the team of 100-odd men were finally going up against their biggest competitor in the nation.

There was much on the line, but thankfully, Senior Quarterback and Captain, Toji Fushiguro, had quite the good luck charm on his side. 

Not only did he pass Kinetics (albeit by the skin of his teeth, thanks to you), but he now had a new, fool-proof pre-game regimen (with an even better success rate!).

He still kept his same protein shake recipe.

He still kept his same choice of attire.

But this time around, he needed at least one hour of your undivided attention, with the provision that his cock be buried so deep and raw inside your trembling cunt that you could feel him in your womb. 

And it was only after intense, depraved, animalistic fucking, with your pussy stuffed full of his gooey cum, and hickies in the shape of a ‘T’ on your neck, could the 6’4 230 lbs man say with absolute certainty, that this championship was in the god damn bag. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

The Wolverines won their final round of the playoffs in a sweeping victory: 52-38. 

And the star quarterback of the show could not wait to celebrate with you, his pretty lil’ girlfriend. 

Perhaps expected considering that the two of you had met just a few weeks ago; you’d announced to your council that you were ready for marriage. And they’d then presented you with a list of all the potential candidates for husband—every eligible bachelor from the Kamo clan to the rather obscure Fujiwara clan. The list had gone on and on with their names and ages.

And at the very end you’d spotted—

Zenin Toji—Age: 38 (once divorced). 

As soon as the elders had noticed you focusing on that one name, they’d dismissed you with a nervous chuckle. “Oh, that’s just Toji. Ignore him, he’s just there out of obligation-”

“But why would I ignore him?”And that had effectively shut them up.

Although what you really wanted were more answers.

Toji.

Toji.

Most of the other candidates ranged across their twenties, and they were names you’d heard of in mere passing during those stuffy clan functions. Toji, however, was beyond that age range and once divorced—and you’d heard of him almost too well. You knew him without ever knowing him.

You’d heard of the newly-appointed Zenin clan leader as he fought against every single elder to claim his rightful title as head - the first one since…ever without a speck of cursed energy.

You’d heard of the terror of the Zenin clan - or so they whispered - who could bring down battalions with a single swipe of his cursed weapons. He didn’t need cursed energy—and what they feared above all was the power of raw humanity underneath it.

But…you’d also heard of the merciful man. The first Zenin clan leader to grant his wife a divorce when she wished for it, thus leaving him printed once more upon a paper listing jujutsu society’s bachelors. 

Leaving him impressioned in your mind.

Zenin Toji was an enigma you wanted to understand.

And you laughed at the expressions upon your elders’ faces as you announced that the sole candidate you were interested in was none other than the notorious Toji. You could count on one hand how many had readily agreed to your union with the older man—and that would be exactly zero fingers. 

However, the meeting had proceeded as tradition dictated. Your council of elders reached out to the uptight council of the Zenins - and they’d reached out to re-confirm thrice that the man you were really looking for was Toji. Wasn’t he much older? Wasn’t he fearsome? Wasn’t he difficult to understand?

You waved off their worries and met him over a fragrant tea ceremony. 

To be quite honest; there wasn’t much talking between the two of you - although the Zenin elders kept up a constant stream of chatter with the elders of your own family. Meanwhile you simply looked at Toji over the rim of your ceramic cup—and—watched—

And he met your gaze just as intensely.

By the end of the tea ceremony, you nudged your elders to proclaim your approval for a union.

And Toji nodded his own approval.

The wedding preparations were accomplished in a week. It was a wedding for the history books - you heard that your council of elders were pushing to get it written in already - and it ended off with a lavish banquet that lasted into the long, long hours of the night. 

As sunlight started seeping into the horizon, you and Toji got up from your seats at the head of the table. And you made your way to the master bedroom—where rows upon rows of elders sat outside in preparation for the consummation.

They were here to hear you-

“Fuck.” You can’t stop the sudden whimper that escapes you at the feeling of Toji hiking up one of his muscular thighs. He still had his wedding robes on - dishevelled upon his frame, the graze of expensive Zenin cotton n’ silk makes you shiver—

And as soon as you do, you feel one of his large palms settle at the base of your spine.

Toji keeps you pinned down - deliciously helpless - once he reaches that upright leg forwards and rests his heel atop your scalp. Stepping on your sweaty crown. Keeping you pinned in one place as he fucks you- with a sheer audacity that makes your jaw drop.

“Careful.” Toji’s low tone trundles out. You’re bent into such a shape that it makes his cock thicker- stretchin’ out your snug channel with a sultry squeeeelch! “Keep your mouth open like that and you’ll catch flies.”

Leaning down as far as he could, he then spits.

“Or you’ll catch me.”

A few more vicious strokes that leave you gaping.

A few more changing angles- Toji was the type to not just straightly thrust. He was stirring his cock ‘round in somewhat circular motions of his hips as he pummeled inside, managing to hit eeeeevery single nerve-ended spot inside you. “And- hah, and we wouldn’t wanna explain that to those old toads, heh?” Asking you. And then…not you. “Isn’t that right, fuckers?”

There’s restless murmuring from outside. 

“W-well, maybe if you—fuuuuuck.” Just as soon as you’re mid-sentence - as though Toji had been waiting for this exact moment - he reaches forwards and slams! his ruddied tip into you hard enough that you can feel him in your damn throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” 

“Loud.” Scoffing. “Though I bet they already know what’s happening- hah.”

You were in utter shambles. 

Toji’s cock was sensually curved towards the right - the perfect angle to spot those areas where you were most sensitive and stimulate them until you were crying. “Y-you’re so shameless—!”

With a roll of his forest-green eyes, the clan leader crouches his body further forwards and accelerates his pace. His heel pressing down even harder.

With this position he had you in, Toji couldn’t keep his palm glued to your drivelling maw anymore. And he was letting it aaaaaall out—the more n’ more pretty moans that were leaving you, the more he’s speeding up his hips. Purposefully thumping his blushin’ red tip down your most precious spots. 

And as if that wasn’t enough, he’s using his free hand to sift apart your stuffy pussy. Pressin’ aside your folds and getting a good eyeful of your entrance - getting flooded with his rock-hard inches, and then emptied out for him to do it all over again. And again. And again and again and—“And who was it that decided to marry me?”

You don’t know what’s hitting you harder: the shock of being called out, or the sudden wad of saliva that he’s spitting between your legs. “Well…me…”

Toji nods. “Pretty young thing like you…for what reason could you want to marry- me-” Every space between his words was punctured with a targeted strike to your g-spot. “Money? Name? Power?”

Your head’s getting foggy - you don’t even realize that you’re drooling before Toji looks down and tuts. He watches as a slick puddle formulates underneath you—“Did you wanna marry this ol’ clan leader for power, doll? S’that what you wanted?”

As much as you could, you’re shaking your head- difficult, given the way he still had the heel of his foot on you.

“No? Then what?” Toji pretends to think. “Hmmm, could it be that your clan elders pressured you into this, doll?” And just at that moment, he stops- even though it seems as if he wanted to say more. “I’ll kill you all if—”

It wasn’t targeted towards you. 

But you’re vehemently denying—“No. No. Not at all…” Sobs and sultry moans strangle in your throat, and your poor, poor hips are driving back into his as much as you could. “Please- oh, I j-just wanted—”

“Let me think.” Now that he’d started his vigorous pace up again, your eardrums were crackling with the constant pap-pap-pap! of Toji’s toned hips hitting yours. He was just so large - in every possible way, it was as though he was engulfing you with his massive body, with his shaft stretchin’ out your insides in ways you’ve never experienced before. “Is it because- haaaaah…” Toji breathes, the cloud of his heated breath wafting down your arched spine. “Is it because you knew that those other- boys couldn’t fuck you as well as I could?”

Your jaw drops- “Fuck.”

But it seems that Toji had found his footing. He drags you even harder against him - the ramming of your two bodies almost violently shaking the flooring beneath. “Is it because you knew that- mmm, this pussy would always be satisfied with me?” Whatever little jostling you’re experiencing at his movements, he’s considering it a nod. “Is it because you’d been greedy? Because you’ve been yearning-”

Somehow, he’s tipping his head backwards and managing to perfect a stream of spit down onto your stuffed cunt.

“-for someone more mature. Someone that knows how to handle a pussy, doll?” Voice dipped in lust. “Have you been yearning for Zenin Toji to fuck you properly?”

“Y-yes—” You pitch out softly. Sniffling. Seeing stars behind your eyelids. “Toji, m’so close…”

“So cum, then?” He snickers, as though it should be the most obvious thing in the world. “What’re you waiting for? Permission?” Leaning back and projecting his voice - though, not for you. “Just so y’know, I’m gonna make my wife cum.” 

“Oh-oh my god—” The words crackle in your throat as a final bash to your syrupy-sweet spot leaving you careening into your high. Stars of pleasure burst behind your shuttered lids - and you’re dragged through wave upon wave of white-hot bliss. 

It overtakes you like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

And Toji was only more than happy to prolong them using his length. Hitting you right when your peaks were at their highest - and if you were in the right state, then you’d wonder how he even managed to time them - and making your veins feel molten within. Making you whimper and thrash into him. Thrashing and thrashing—fucked like you’ve never been before through your orgasm.

You’re so hazy afterwards that you barely even register the shuffling outside the bedroom - as the elders started making their way back to the banquet. Mission accomplished, you suppose.

And Toji takes his foot off your head. 

“Haaaaah, fuck.” He hisses. “Want to give them an encore, my wife?”

You couldn’t nod faster.

Before you know it, he’s tipping his head back and calling out - at the elders—

“Get ready for an encore, fuckers.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Parent-teacher DATING?!

“Ms. Teacher…” 

Itadori’s sweet, sweet voice breaks through your conversation with one of the parents; and you’re looking down to see him clasping one end of your flower-patterned apron. Pink brows furrowed. Chubby cheeks puffed. And how could anyone resist that face?

So throwing an apologetic smile at the parent, you’re leaning down slightly so that you could hear the little boy better. “Yes, Yuji?”

He cups a hand over his mouth then leans in towards your ear as if to whisper. “I have a secret to tell you.” And he does not whisper.

Still, you bite back a giggle and ask. “Oh, really? How exciting. Do I get to know that secret, Yuji?”

He nods.

Then leans in once more-

“My papa has a big, big crush on y-”

“Yuji—!”

You didn’t have to look up to see that it was none other than Nanami Kento, Itadori’s father, pushing past a few gossiping parents and kids playing jumprope- heading in your direction. He quickly clasps Itadori’s arm and gently tugs the boy away, “I am so, so sorry—I have no idea what’s gotten into him-” Nanami pinches the top of his nosebridge with a sigh. “He seems to have gotten it into his head that I have f-feelings for you, and…”

You watch, almost astounded, as the ever-stoic Nanami’s ears burn bright red.

“A-and I sincerely apologize if he made you uncomfortable in any way-”

“Oh, no.” You’re raising your hands up and fervently shaking your head. “He didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. Did you, Yuji?”

“Yup!” Those tufts of pink hair atop his head bounce as he nods as well, beaming - happy to see that you were on his side, at the very least. He then turns back to Nanami. “I didn’t make Ms. Teacher uncomfortable, papa. I just told her what you told me-”

“Sunshine…” Nanami grumbles, though with less panic in his voice this time.

And you’re biting back a smile as you look between the handsome father and his son; it’d been two years since Nanami had adopted Itadori, according to what the man had told you when he’d first enrolled the boy in Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary. Since then, you’ve had the privilege of watching over the father-son duo as they become closer, as they found family in one another, as they opened themselves up to both the school and you. 

And although you knew you shouldn’t have favorites as a teacher - you can’t deny that one of the best parts of your day was seeing the two. 

Yes, the two.

It didn’t quite help that Nanami Kento was the talk amongst the single ladies and men at pick-up. Tall. Tender. With his broad shoulders and his blond hair—always slicked back, not even a single strand out of line. 

Nanami was the type of man to hold doors open for students, other parents, and teachers alike - he’d happily stand there for half an hour as an entire grade passed by, if he had to.

Nanami was the type of man to not worry about what anyone thought of him as he let his energetic son paste stickers all over him, or use the play make-up he’d snagged from Kugisaki.

Nanami was the type of man to buy you a large bouquet of roses for Teacher’s Day- roses. And he’d apologized for at least fifteen minutes about not meaning any sort of innuendo, and he’d completely understand if you didn’t want to take them—you’d cut him off then n’ there by taking them with a gracious thank you. Even if others at pick-up shot you knowing smiles. 

So could you blame yourself if you happened to form a crush on the man?

And hearing what Itadori had to say about it now…

“I wouldn’t mind, y’know.” You speak once you’d ushered Itadori to play with some of his friends—Fushiguro and Kugisaki had just been dropped off. And Nanami was still standing next to you, watching as his son scampered off after causing perhaps the most chaos he’s ever experienced in his life. 

But ah…your voice was low enough that it couldn’t be heard by anyone around you two. Perhaps not even Nanami himself- but of course, he heard.

Of course, he heard.

He turns to you with widened eyes, “I uh…I- excuse me?”

You turn back to him with a grin, “How about coffee sometime this week?”

“I have a better plan.” As soon as the first bout of shyness wears off, he’s clearing his crackling throat and answering you. “How about dinner?”

.

.

.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuh-fuck.” Nanami wrenches between clenched teeth. His hot breath sticks against the side of your throat; and every single puff makes your skin erupt with perspiration. 

Which worked for him—it just let the movements between your two ravenous bodies proceed even faster, slipperier, sloppier. Nanami has you pressed flat against his neat mattress, in a bedroom that was humble and meticulously organized - and with Itadori at Fushiguro’s for a sleepover, the two of you could let those ancient bedsprings creak as much as they liked. 

Nanami could fuck you as hard as you liked.

He’s grinding that golden happy trail into your front; both palms pressed flatly atop your inner thighs to keep them open. To keep you stretched as faaaaar apart as you could go—because fuck- Nanami’s cock was thick enough that he had to pin you down n’ squeeeeeeze his inches inside as far as they could go. 

Rubbin’ his prominent veins along your walls. Entire body tensing up whenever you clench-

“Fuuuuuuck.” With a heavy sigh, he’s letting his head tip backwards. And honestly—you don’t think you’d ever seen a more attractive sight. 

You’ve always known that Nanami was ripped underneath those office button-ups of his - but this was damn-near Herculean. The way his shoulders were defined and pulled taut as they closed in on you, the way his chest was absolutely luscious—you almost wanted to take a bite. And you’d guessed that with energetic Itadori as a son, he hadn’t had the time to hit the gym lately.

Because there was a layer of thickness over his muscles that left Nanami softer and stronger- the soft curve of his belly pushes down on your core. 

Jostling your body back n’ forth with every honed thrust.

Banging at the back of your cervix and your throat- “Fuck. It feels so good, Kento.” 

“S-soooooo fucking good.” And you wonder which one of you two was more gone on your syrupy cunt: you or him. Nanami struggles to keep his damn head up- collapsing into the crook of your neck and letting out botched groans- every single time his sensitive tip slid uuuuuup your channel into its deepest depths. He almost sounded as though he was in pain as he wept—“F-forgive me, darling.”

Perking your head off the plush pillows, “What for, Kento?”

“Well it’s just…” And his foggy glasses were still on his face - which Nanami pushes up his nose bridge. “I haven’t felt this good in—forever. So forgive me if I’m a little…”

And then he’s surging his hips forwards and giving you a good thwack! with the rounded end of his shaft. Enough to make stars appear in your vision-

“-rough.”

And then it’s like the floodgates have opened.

Because Nanami’s grip on you grows hard enough to leave fucking nail marks, his sweat splashes with the urgency of his movements. “And I wanted to f-fuck you all niiiiiice and slow like this pretty pussy deserves.” Those strong arms keep manhandling you open as he shovels straight into you. “W-wanted to show you that a mature man like me could- hngh, make you feel the best you’ve ever felt.”

“But I already do…” You huff out, arms thrown needily around his neck. 

Yet Nanami doesn’t seem to hear—he doesn’t even seem to register. At least, the only acknowledgement that you get of your response is the way his body flinches ever-so-slightly at the mere sound of your voice. “And yet…” Those hazel-brown eyes of his widen as they run down your body, ultimately resting where your pussy was bloated all ‘round him. “And yet, one kiss of these pretty lips and I’m done for.”

“D-done for…” You repeat - mostly because you don’t know what else to do.

Don’t know what else you’re capable of doing other than wrapping your weak legs around his waist. Your hamstrings stretch and scream; and you’re sobbing yourself as his pace seems to accelerate.

“I can feel myself…” Nanami speaks through a watery mouth. “-getting fucking addicted—shit, like some hormonal punk. I should know better. A man my age…”

“Oh- oh, Kento.”

“I should know better- I should fucking know better.” He admonishes himself - though that doesn’t stop or even slow down the feral pap-pap-paps! of his pelvis hitting yours. Through scrunched-up eyes, he’s gazing upon you. “C-can’t believe you got some old man like me-” Despite your instant protests. “-to finally break.”

After a few more sudden strikes - almost animalistic - you’re managing to string together enough syllables. “But…I don’t mind, Kento.”

And that—that might just be the one thing that makes him falter. “Pardon?” He blinks up at you with glazed-over eyes.

Nodding, “I promise I don’t mind.” In fact, you’re tugging him in with a fistful of his blond strands between your fingers. “I- ngh! want you to go even harder…if you can-”

“Of course I can, my love.” The both of you are startled by his instant answer. “I-I mean, if you know that it means I might leave a few marks and—even more marks.” Perhaps most notably on your spongy cervix, welcoming his bashing thrusts.

But you don’t mind. Like you said.

You’re nodding even harder, “Yes, please.”

So polite. How could he ever refuse?

And in the blink of an eye, the blond-haired man leans over to clasp that patterned tie draped over his bedpost. It’d gotten thrown there sometime after the frenzy of getting home - quite convenient for when Nanami wanted to throw it loosely over his clammy neck and give you the other end to hold onto—

“Don’t be afraid to pull if it gets too much.” He puffs out at you in a breezy breath.

“Too much?” You ogle up at his handsome face. You half-jokingly wondered whether the bed - and perhaps you - would be in one piece by the time that Itadori gets home tomorrow. It was going to be a never-ending night…

“Mhm, because this is going to be rough, darling.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Controversy.

WHO IS ROCKSTAR HEARTTHROB GETO SUGURU’S GIRLFRIEND? HOW CAN WE BE HER?!

GOLD DIGGER?! BASSIST OF 6EYES SHUTS DOWN MALICIOUS RUMORS SURROUNDING BEAU: SAYS THEY ARE ‘BULLSHIT’. 

DILF OFF THE MARKET: GETO SUGURU CONFIRMS RELATIONSHIP OF ‘YEARS’ HE SAYS. 

Everyone knew of Geto Suguru. Or so it seemed when they were screaming his name and cursing yours—everyone wanted to be with him. 

Or be him.

Who wouldn’t? Thick rings. Grey-black hair. Feline smile.

A 6’2, long-haired dreamboat that just-so-happened to be the bassist of the hottest rock band on the charts right now: 6Eyes. They’d been discovered quite early on - when they’d just been out of high school, actually - and had maintained a steady presence in the music scene ever since. Shattering record after record and filling stadium after stadium. By the time you’d gone with some of your college friends to one of their concerts, they were already titans in the industry—and you’d been an instant fan. 

So imagine your surprise when your friend announced that one of the security had invited your group backstage. 

That was the night you’d met Geto Suguru - you’d locked eyes and the both of you had just known.

You signed that NDA. You met for dates under disguises. And you’d even met his young adopted daughters- oh, you adored them.

Several months later, when TMZ or some other site had broken the story of Geto secretly dating a fan over ten years younger than him - and that was when scandal ensued. The fandom was rabid—and you understood.

Though Geto, who was rather used to biting headlines and speculation, told you that the whole thing would blow over soon enough- you holed up in your shared penthouse. You turned off your social media notification. You tried not to turn on any celebrity news channel. 

And you decided: the very least you could do is make a good first impression…

“Easy now…easy there…” Geto holds the recorder in one hand n’ the side of your hips in his other. You’re maddeningly aware of both the rolling tape and the way his puckered, pretty tip is getting guided to your entrance—“Don’t strain yourself now. Trust Suguru.”

Just the very first inch of it slipping lusciously between your pussylips and easing inside.

Geto was always so thick, donning numerous veins that creep up the sides of his shaft in zig-zagging patterns. And the sheer girth of him intruding is enough to make you gasp-

“Mmm, that’s good.” The older man murmurs with a smile- long, greying hair forming a curtain around the two of you. “Let’s try again. A little louder this time.” Before he reels his hips back the mere inches he’s squeezed inside, and then rammin’ right back in again - it sounds the loudest squelch! as you’re taking even more of him. “Ohhhh, that’s good. Maybe I can use that as the outro, heh?”

“Maybe just use it for the entire ch-chorus.” You hiss.

“Trying to take my spotlight?” Geto leans down to kiss your swollen lips- or so you think. He’s pressing his pierced mouth against yours and gnawin’ down on your lower lip.

“Scared of- mmpf. Scared of being ousted by the young new talents?”

The edges of his lips curling upwards. “A rock veteran like me? Oh, I don’t think I have anything to be scared of…”

And you can only moan straight into his greedy, greedy maw as you’re jostled back and forth. Geto’s thrusts were oh-so-merciless and puncturing deeeeep into your womb—using the smooth Prince Albert’s piercing atop his flared tip, he’s torching every hidden spot and nerve-end inside. Mazin’ around your walls and pushing into those little ridges that just made your back arch into him-

His eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles. 

“Hey hey-” The only thing snapping you out of your frenzy is Geto’s sharp tuts. He stalls your restless hips by hooking his fingers into your thighs and throwing them over his broad shoulders- dragging you back into him. “Don’t run away, gorgeous—the studio session’s not over yet.”

“I wasn’t running away.” You huff.

“Sure seemed like it to me.” He grins - that silver piercing of his glinting in the dim lighting. It was the type of Cheshire-cat grin that you knew wouldn’t bode well for you…and as soon as you’re thinking about it, Geto opens his sensual mouth and spits—straight between your lips.

The wad lands softly on your tongue.

And Geto himself reaches a second ringed hand up to close your jaw- to urge you to swallow. “Remember to keep those vocals hydrated, gorgeous. We’re getting to the good part now.”

You think you could gasp at the audacity—but what’s leaving you instead are a series of long, lewd moans. Mewls. Pleas. 

He’s drawing them out over and over again by hiking your thighs up his shoulders and pressing you into a mean mating press- lunging his body down into yours. Crushing your pliable self underneath him. Slashing your cervix with loooooong thrusts and his ropey precum puddling sweetly at the back of your pussy.

“Yeah- yeah, louder now.” Pushing the recorder even closer. “Louder, girl.”

“I am—oh.” With the way he was fucking you like he almost hated you - though it was rather the opposite - your sentences warble with hiccups and gasps. The lines of his veins were somehow massaging the exact hidden spots that drove you wild. 

“You got this.”

“Fuck-”

“Louder. S’just you and me.” This was exactly what he wanted to hear - his favorite melody was you. “Just a bit of chopping up n’ remixing- this is perfect. Gonna sound so fuckin’ pretty to my bass.”

“Fuh-feels so good-”

“Mhmmm, I know, gorgeous. Now let the listeners know.” 

Making your noise pitch upwards in volume. 

After a few more strokes, he bores down at you with a thoughtful expression. “Now…why don’tcha try calling me ‘Sugu’ for the recording?”

“You want me to be sappy? Okay, rockstar.” You’re unable to bite your tongue fast enough- though your snapping only makes him even more excited.

Amethyst eyes glistening. “Oh, don’t be a diva just yet, newbie.” The older musician brings the audio recorder closer to catch your every breath, “Trust me. I’ve been in this industry for a loooooong time- c’mon now. Listen to your- heh, vocal coach—say ‘Sugu’.”

How you loved riling him up just as much as he did to you. “Then give me something good to moan for, baby.”

“Don’t test my patience, superstar.”

Though he does as you say. 

You should have expected it all the same; the rockstar had mapped out every single good spot inside you. And it was with a near-photographic memory that he’s inching his length backwards- until it was just his lavish red tip lickin’ up your entrance.

Just for a second…just for two…

Before slamming into your g-spot so hard n’ suddenly that you almost sob.

Making your cunt mold to the exact texture of his circular piercing- hitting your sensitive area first, before then pushing his smooth tip into it as well. You’re feeling every bit of him—and you’re making sure that your future audiences can hear it, too. 

“S-Sugu—!” You’re thrashing in his arms- and he’s crashing and crashing his hips into you. Gluing the heated, stinging pink skin of his pelvis against yours so ferally that you can’t keep up with his pace no matter how fast you’re attempting to buck and bounce.

“Oh, that one’s going in the intro for sure.” He titters. 

“S’fucking mean.” You whimper as he pushes down on your lower half - purposefully, so that his scruffy happy trail scratches your clit.

“Sugu knows best.” So sweetly, he kisses your forehead—and you wonder whether the loud smacking sound that he leaves behind is more for the recorder or to make you squirm. Shy, much? “Now how about I fuck you pregnant n’ we just announce the baby on the album?”

You pause for a second - before a smile twitches at your lips. “A rockstar baby? You read my mind.”

He reciprocates. “Always knew you were made f’me.”

The headlines were sure to love this.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - MY UNCLE’S GF?!

Someone had suggested playing two truths and a lie:

You weren’t a lot older than Choso- at least in his eyes. That didn’t matter to him.

Choso has always wanted you.

He’s over that now, though.

Choso’s palms are sweaty ‘round his lightweight beer as he utters the words; words just a little louder than he intended them to be. Maybe that was the pre-game finally kicking in—but he couldn’t blame it on that, either. Had it been called three truths and a lie, then Choso would have also confessed that he was stone-cold sober as he murmurs two of his deepest secrets to the little circle of drunk college kids. 

And you.

You…you’re looking at him like you’d already guessed he’d say that.

Had he really been that obvious? Choso first met you three years ago, during his sophomore year in college, when he’d gone home for the holidays—and discovered that, this year, Sukuna had been dragged home, too. Except…his uncle hadn’t come alone this time.

He’d brought along- you. 

You were the one to greet him at the door—and Choso remembers his breath catching in his chest. He remembers feeling his heart bang against his ribcage. He remembers his eyes widening- and his mouth gaping stupidly as you introduced yourself.

So caught up in you, he’d been forced to ask Sukuna for your name again-

“Back off.” His uncle had scoffed, crimson eyes narrowing. Honestly - Ryomen Sukuna was the only person alive that could make cotton candy-pink hair look intimidating. “Don’t think I don’t see the way yer looking at her.”

He’d probably stammered something intelligible-

“Look all ya want- if she feels uncomfortable, she’ll thump ya herself. But you can’t touch.” Sukuna set his beer bottle down. “M’actually serious about this one.”

And Choso could see why - you were the first person that Sukuna had ever brought into the Itadori family home. You were smart. You were funny. You weren’t afraid to put the pink-haired man in his place. You were fucking gorgeous—

And…you were Sukuna’s girlfriend. Ten years older than Choso.

Which is why - no matter how badly you made his heart flutter - Choso had vowed to never, never so much as even think to act upon his feelings for you. 

He just had to grit his teeth and avoid prolonged conversation with you during every family function and gathering you attended with Sukuna- of which the man was making an appearance at every single one now. Almost as though to provoke him even more. 

And Choso was forced to make peace with the fact that he’d never make peace with his feelings.

That is…until the two of you broke up.

He’d heard news about it just a few weeks ago, actually- his father had said something about Sukuna being down in the dumps after you’d broken up with him. Something about not making enough time and drifting apart—Choso hadn’t heard the details, he’d been too overwhelmed with the guilty glee that’d shot through his body and made his heart pound. And then just tonight - oh, how he wished he could kiss whoever was looking down at him (but no, that was saved for you…) - Choso just-so-happened to run into you at the bar he was attending with his friends.

So of course he had to invite you over to their table.

Of course, he had to ignore your protests about being older than them all. None of that shit mattered. 

Of course, he had to sit right opposite you on the table and divulge his greatest secret - one he’d been keeping to himself for three years now.

You’re just opening your mouth to respond-

When Choso’s feeling a harsh smack! on his back and one of his friends crowing in his ear. “Atta boy! You never struck me as the type to like MILFs, man.”

“Technically I’m not a MILF yet.” You giggle, fixating your gaze upon him. He almost flinches. “But you’re right…I never thought you’d be the type to like older women. I’m ten years older than you, Choso, you know that right?”

Choso mumbles almost too quietly to hear. “Th-that doesn’t matter to me…”

“Yeah- and you’d probably like that ‘ma’am’ shit, eh?” His friend guffaws, making the now-bashful Choso - whatever courage he had liquified - duck his head. “Oh- sorry I didn’t mean—”

“No, no.” You dismiss the babbling college boy. “I’m not offended at all. In fact, you might be right.”

The table bursts into wolf whistles-

And it’s a blur until you’re ragging with the banter a little more - before discreetly excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Choso’s staring up at you - totally not admiring your back like some pathetic lovesick fool - before catching your gaze and your pointed wink.

And then he’s scrambling right after you. As discreetly as a sledgehammer.

.

.

.

Nose buried into the crook of your neck. Mouth gaped wide open- letting out the sweetest crackling moans into your skin. 

Choso had you pushed against the bathroom stall - clean, don’t you worry - with his arms wrapped around your body n’ his cock shoved between your legs. Dragging in and out in a way that was so messy—he’s roverin’ around his globules of cum with that fat tip of his, and then reeling his hips rapidly backwards to spray it down your walls over and over.

He’d cum as soon as he’d put it inside.

And it wasn’t his fault.

Honest! 

“Oh- oh.” And now he was panting desperate breath after breath between thrusts—“I’m sorry…the condom broke, baby.” Choso’s lower lip cutely trembles as he speaks. “Can’t help it. And then your pussy’s just so warm and welcoming a-and…”

His breath hitches as he hits that one gluttonous spot that makes you clench.

“-and I just- can’t- when you’re squeezing me like that.”

Basically hypnotized, Choso’s slender fingers dip down between your legs. And so swiftly - that you’re almost surprised at his nimbleness - he pulls out of your wet hole n’ clasps his hand around his barely-wrapped length. The rubber condom had been too tight around him, and it’d shattered into a million pieces—Choso looks up at you through his doe-like lashes, and waits until you’re nodding.

That’s when he’s wringing off his broken condom and squeezing out whatever wetness it held. Pushing out the cum back onto your pussy. 

Making such a mess. 

Those pure-white droplets that end up splattered back down on your pussy- warm and utterly unwholesome. A sinful cover. He wasn’t leaving a single ounce wasted. “Sh-shit.” Choso’s mouth gapes wide open. “It’s all your fault…”

Just the cutest trickle of saliva makes its way down his lips - and you’re reaching upwards to wipe it away. “Awwww. Ever done it raw before, Cho?”

After a brief bout of hesitation, he shakes his head.

“I’ve never done it before.” He confesses. Your eyes widen, so he was a virgin…

“Then are you sure you can handle it, baby? No need to push yourself if-”

“No.” He gasps. Sharp. Shot-through. It leaves his lips before he even knows what’s happening- and then you’re clenching again in a way that makes his brows twist together, and his fingers dig into your waist. “No, no, no, no-” Eyes frenzied. “We don’t have to stop f’me, baby. We don’t even have to slow down—”

Cum-coated; his thickened cock gets sandwiched between your lips then jerked back and forth a few times. By now he was so wet with slick n’ sap that it was making him slip a few times before he’s actually managing to get it in again—and that, too, with your help. 

You reach down to help grip Choso’s raging-hot erection, and guide it inside your cunt: an action that leaves the other man blushing down to the roots of his hair. Even his tip throbs just a little harder—“Th-thank you, ma’am.”

Your brows raise in amusement- and it only hits him then. So he was into the ‘ma’am’ thing.

“I mean- baby.” He sounds so utterly ruined. “Thank you, baby. Promise I can handle it now, m’kay?”

And oh…you can’t deny that it was just so fun to tease him. “Hmmm…I dunno, Choso-”

Chocolate-brown bangs sticking to your skin, he’s lurching his face away to bore straight into your eyes. “I-is it because I’m younger?” He asks with a hint of desperation, and your lips part as your ex’s hot nephew keeps steamrolling away with his pussydrunken mouth. Poor, poor Choso. “Because I promise I can handle it. I can fuck you- ngh, the best. Promise m’gonna make you feel sooooo—”

Choso’s hips were hammerin’ away at a pace you’d never have suspected- and his hips end up crushed against yours. So close that the scruff of his happy trail scratches your clit raw.

“-g-good.” A single tear track runs down his face - you’re unsure whether he’s talking about you or himself.

“Easy there, tiger.” You’re pushing back on a stray lock of his hair- darker now with perspiration. The sweet gesture makes Choso huffs. 

It wasn’t doing him any favors, however, as that only made him look even cuter. You’re craning your neck and planting a chaste peck on his bubblegum-pink lips—only for Choso to take control of the kiss and softly bite down on your bottom lip. “Baby-” He rasps. And with just how sweet Choso had always been to you, you could’ve almost forgotten how strong he was- how easily he could bounce you down on his cock- how needy he was for you. Feral. Even though you had him wrapped ‘round your finger, he was jostling your pussy’s inside like craaaazy. “Don’t do that. Don’t baby me- I need to be taken- ngh, s-seriously by you, m’kay?”

“Oh…” You’re letting out a heated breath as his tip empties out at your cervix.

And to prolong that sensation; Choso claws his hand up and pushes on the lower part of your stomach. Right beneath where your cunt was expanding and contracting with his cock. “Feel how big I am?” He doesn’t stop putting pressure on that spot until you’re nodding - “How hard? How much I’m leaking?” Just on cue, a splatter! of precum leaks between your pussylips.

And with something like a broken whimper- Choso snakes his fingers down to push the leakage back up your channel. 

“O-oh—this pussy’s so fuckin’ wet. And I can handle it- I can handle it.” He utters more to himself. The more he’s speaking, the harder and longer he’s fucking you, the more ruined he sounds. “M’not as innocent as you think, baby.”

“Oh? Do tell.” You smile.

Such a gorgeous, gorgeous smile that he almost hesitates wiping away with a roll of his thumb - stimulating the nerves of your clit. But it makes you break out into the prettiest lewd expression that leaves him rutting his hips even harder, “Do you have any idea how fuh-fucking long I’ve waited for this? How badly I’ve wanted to- ngh, stuff my cock and fuck you like an animal?” As he trails off, he feels his stinging tip start to twitch even more wildly. Dangerously. “Fuck—”

“H-how long?” You’re asking with a smug smirk.

Choso’s blinking a few times just to let the question register- and finally muttering. “Even when you were dating- him. Ever since I first saw you…” And then he rubs his thumb at an even more steadied pace, matching it to the pushes of his spearing cock. “You were wearing that red dress of yours- hah, and I could see the strap of your pretty pink bra peaking out…the one with the bows on-”

That makes you gasp.

Which Choso takes advantage of to plaster his lips against yours n’ suckle on your tongue. 

“And then-” Barely managing out through kisses- through stabs of his length- through the pleasure. “And then you called me ‘baby’ as you were getting ready to leave, and I- ngh, knew you were teasing me for being younger—fuck, I h-had to run to the bathroom just to jerk off.”

Rovering his mushroomy trip straight into your nerve-ended g-spot; you’re arching into his chest as you feel Choso lose his grip on his sanity.

Already having been so loose.

He’s babbling as he cums long and hard, and oh-so-deeeeeply into your cunt. Mouth ajar. Body collapsing against yours - caging you even further against the bathroom wall. “Baby- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Shit, so much…” Just feeling the ribbons upon ribbons of creamy-white sap he was emptying out. Hot. hypnotizing. Every stroke managed to hit your best spots, and every push meant your pussy was getting overloaded with his cum. The inches of his shaft were curved just perfectly enough that he’s managing to slip aside your walls and use his tip to circle and circle those webs of cum at the very base of your pussy. All over. 

Soon enough, you’re feeling a layer of it make its way down your inner-thighs—and Choso still didn’t seem like he was going to stop anytime soon. You moan, “H-how can you cum this much- mmpf.”

He captures your lips in another sloppy kiss. “Must be the stamina of a younger guy.”

“Choso you’re pussydrunk.” You’ve never heard him sound so drawling and dreamy.

“Hmmmm…” He’s nuzzling the crook of your neck, leaving bite marks that will be entirely too difficult to explain when you’re going back outside. “Did you cum? Promise I can- ngh, make you cum, too…” Grazing your skin with his lips.

“Prove it, then.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 6…9?

“It’s a fuckin’ pandemic, isn’t it?”

You’re looking at your boyfriend over the rim of your book, “Excuse me?”

Sukuna was seated on the armchair in the corner of your bedroom; just having finished a video call with his brother and his nephew. The bright chatter (at least from their end) had died down some minutes ago, and they’d bid your boyfriend goodnight—which was rather the same routine for these biweekly calls. Despite how much the two of you visited, Itadori Yuji always found it too hilarious to put strange filters on his grumpy uncle.

Except, tonight…Sukuna had sat in the armchair for a few minutes longer.

Usually; he would join you in bed.

Usually; he would grumble - though with a fond smile on his face - about whatever Yuji had been chattering about before. 

He was practically an honorary father to the boy, and it always made you smile to see. 

Usually; he wouldn’t look up at you as expressionless as if he’d seen a ghost- as if his soul had wafted away. And ask you about some…pandemic? Did Yuji put something in his head again?

At the confused expression on your face, Sukuna was heaving out a sigh—pushing up those glasses that were totally, most definitely not glasses and merely a tool he uses to…see…better up his handsome nosebridge. Sukuna was in his late thirties, and silver was beginning to tinge the edges of his pink hair, climbing up his temples. His crows’ feet creased as he frowned at you, “The…67 thing. It’s a pandemic.”

“67 thing?” You gape, your book plopping down on the bed. 

“You heard me.” He scoffs. “I’ve been thinking it’s mass hysteria- every brat at his kindergarten keeps repeating it. But there seems to be no pattern or cohesion. I thought it was just those damn kindergarteners, but the other day I even caught Jin saying it-”

“S-six…seven…thing.” You’re repeating - for no reason other than to confirm to yourself that what you’re hearing was real.

Sukuna straightens in his chair, “See? Now it’s got you—”

“Kuna, like the meme?” You’re shaking your head, “The one from the song? Oh my god, it’s not mass hysteria-”

He crinkles his nose. “The hell is a…meme?”

“You don’t know what a—” How has he been Yuji - of all people’s - uncle but still had no idea? You continue, “It’s basically an Internet inside joke- it’s been over for a while now but the kids are still obsessed with it.” Finally gripping your book once more, you level him a look. “You didn’t seriously think it was mass hysteria, did you, Kuna?”

Sukuna crosses his bulky arms and looks away. “Tch—”

And when he catches you giggling, he barks-

“What?!”

“Oh- nothing.” And from the smile upon your lips - Sukuna knew that whatever was coming out of your mouth next wasn’t about to be anything sincere. 

Which is why he’s raising himself off the sofa and climbing up the foot of your bed.

You continue, “It’s just you’re getting old, Kuna.”

Joking; nothing ever riled Ryomen Sukuna up more than teasing him for not understanding some new slang or lyric. 

And with how much he riled you up sometimes—you had to get back at him somehow, alright?

Soon enough, he’s pinning you down to the bed - with his toned pelvis pressing down on your waist, and his arms creeping upwards to keep your wrists pushed against the mattress. “Say that shit again. I dare you.”

You’re leaning up as though to kiss him. “Old man.”

.

.

.

Sukuna’s tongue was zig-zagging wiiiiildly between your legs- striking the soft circle of your entrance and then swervin’ as deeply inside as it could go. Deeper. Deeper.

No matter how fervently his mouth was glued to your pussy. 

No matter how ravenously.

His hips rut off the bed with every single lick—and that fat, throbbing tip of his kept shovelling n’ shovelling at a synchronized pace with his tongue. 

He had you twisted in sixty-nine with your pussy latched onto his lips. 

Sukuna’s own cock squeezing out heavy volumes of his salty precum near your lips, then promptly pushin’ them inside with his thrusts- Sukuna was so loooong and rock-hard that he was managing to swab across every spot and directly target the back of your throat. Playing with that dangly in the back.

You’re moaning as he squeezes two ringed-decorated fingers into your tight cunt. And he grins as he feels the vibrations—“Ah ah- s’rude to talk with your mouth full.” 

Just then, Sukuna’s planting a smack! on your pussy that makes you pull off of his shaft with a loud pop! “H-hey…”

“What?” He trundles. Reaching his hips up and guiding his needy tip back into your mouth, “Speak.”

All because he knew that you’d attempt to nonetheless- and it would end up with the most lewd noises being muffled into this cock. It would end up with his eyes scrunching shut, his head throwing backwards at the shocks of pleasure. “Th-thought I told you to speak? Hah- not babble. Cock got your tongue or something?”

And…it would end up with you being all huffy n’ puffy. “That’s not even f-fair…”

“Heh- fair?” From where he’d been nipping at your clit, Sukuna pulls off - just to confirm he wasn’t hearing things. He wasn’t. And though you couldn’t see his expression from this angle, you could practically hear the amusement in his tone. “What happened to me being old, huh? You surely don’t need me to go easy on you.”

“I d-didn’t say that…” You’re stubbornly answering him - though the constant drives of his fingers were driving you absolutely mad. Sure. 

“Good.” And then you’re feeling two more consecutive smack-smacks! atop your bloated folds. “Because, babydoll…m’barely even started.”

In no time, Sukuna has you manhandled so that your stomach’s against the soft bed. Your back’s against his thoroughly toned front - so incredibly strong; he was bulky—with a layer of thickness to him that made your skin tingle with want - and his erect cock placed between your legs. He takes a few moments to wetten your core up- because no matter how many times you’ve taken him, you think you’ll never get used to Sukuna’s sheer size.

And before long you’re clawing onto the headboard for dear life—as he damn-near molds your tender cunt to his size. Startin’ at the tip-top of his bloated shaft, and then bouncing you down- down- down so many inches greedily. 

Utterly greedily. 

“Oh- oh, fuuuuuck.” Hands shooting forwards to grab onto more of the mahogany frame.

But Sukuna stops you right then n’ there by wrapping his right arm around your neck; like a wreath, your pants are immediately cut off. And his muscles bulge as they tighten—the defined ridges of his biceps pushing against your throat - it’s sensual enough to make your mouth water…“And where’d you think you’re going, huh?”

“Nowher- mmpf.” Cut off immediately by the tightening of his muscled restraint. 

“Lying’s not a good look, brat.” Then his second set of fingers snakes down to spank! your stuffed pussy- right atop your bloated folds. The shockwaves that run up your spine are enough to make you buck and whine—and enough to make him drag you back into him. Again and again. “Wasn’t stuffing this mouth earlier ‘nough to teach you a little lesson?”

So stubborn. “Not at all-”

He’s spitting straight between your lips.

And when Sukuna’s fucking you; it’s with harsh, pointed jabs - scouring deeeeep into the bottom of your pussy and leaving the mark of his cockhead. That rounded bruise you feel throb-throb-throbbin’ away every time he repeats the action—he fucks you like he hates you.

And he’s only growing faster, harder by the second.

Only tightening his headlock and wrenching your body back into his. Again and again.

Over and over.

Until the globes of your ass were stinging with impact, and you’ve memorized the pattern of his happy trail. It’s practically a part of you. 

Sukuna’s rugged cock knew aaaaall the right spots. Making your pupils roll around in the whites of your eyes, and leaving you wondering just how he had this much stamina still…“Awww, c’mon now.” His low voice trundles in your ears. “Get your act together, girl. You don’t wanna be this cockdrunk for someone so old, huh?”

“I-I—”

“What was it you called me?” He growls, sharp canines nipping at the shells of your ears. “Huh? What was it you called me? See, this fossil ‘ere has some trouble…remembering-”

Every syllable of his was punctured by a thorough glide across the velvety channel of your pussy- “Ummm, then in that case, I didn’t say anything?” You try your luck.

“Nice try.” Sukuna grins. “But m’not that geriatric yet.”

Another spank. “Please-”

“What did you call me?”

“I-I just meant-”

And another. “What did you call me?”

“An…old man.” You feel embarrassed just letting the words slip between your lips.

You didn’t think he could get even rougher with his movements - his shaft was throbbing, and his pelvis was smack-smack-smacking into you. So hard that you’re propelled forwards by the sheer force; and Sukuna roughly lurches you back with his headlock. “I might be an old man- cheh. I might not know all these…damn Internet memes- but I do know how to fuck this pussy right.” To prove his point, he scours in-between your pussylips to squeeze your pretty clit. “Look at her- she’s in love with me.”

“O-oh—” Eyes fluttering shut. 

“I know how to make her cry with pleasure. I know how to make her- mmmngh, squeeze like she doesn’t want me leavin’…heh.” He continues muttering into your ear as his hips grow more fervent. “I know how to make her feel so good—”

Your teeth grit. “Shit.” And you recognize the twisting sensation at the pit of your stomach. “K-Kuna, I’m gonna cum-”

“And even better.” He chuckles. Gnawing at the top of your ear shell, before moving down to bite the tender crook of your neck - like a wolf catching his prey. “I might not know those fuckin’- memes like the youngsters do. But I do know how to make this pussy- cum.”

“S-sooo close—don’t stop.” You’re bouncing n’ bouncing back into his pistoning hips. 

Feeling the pleasure well up. Feeling your head start to spin a little as you near your high- 

You’re crashing past your tipping point. And Sukuna gives you one, two, three good strokes to fuck you through the bursts of white-hot pleasure running through your veins - before he’s suddenly setting you free of his headlock and letting you drop straight into the plush pillows. 

Reeling his damn cock out.

You don’t know what’s louder: your disappointed groan or his rough cackle.

“What? Wanted this old man to be nice in bed or something?” As soon as you’re looking over your shoulder, you’re met with Sukuna’s priggish grin—his sharp canines peaking out at the edges of his lower lip. 

Grumpily, you nod. “Yes? What- can’t last or—oh.”

Another smack. “That’s not gonna work on me again- sorry, babydoll.” And before you know it, you’re being flipped right over - getting your legs thrown over his shoulders and pushed into the meanest mating press you’ve ever experienced. “Because m’not letting my bratty girl properly cum until I’ve had a good few rounds to blow off some steam. And m’sure you can keep up- heh, if not…”

“And um- how many rounds might that be exactly?”

Sukuna smirks. “67.”

“I hate you.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - “M-mommy!”

AITA for seducing the HOT rich MILF (40’sF) that I (23M) pool-clean for while her ex-husband and kids were away?! In my defense, she’s reeeeeally hot.

You freeze.

Ino freezes.

The world itself seems to freeze; all except for the ruby-red tip of Ino Takuma’s cock. Shoved deeeep inside your cunt - deep enough to leave a permanent bruise there - and throbbing away wildly—he’s cumming with that particular title escaping his lips. 

And then his lower lip wobbles once- twice- before he ducks down and attempts to hide his face in his arms. 

“Hey hey-” Swiftly, you reach down to push his hands away - you’d be disappointed not to see his pretty expressions as you fucked him even further. All pouty lips and doe-like eyes—Ino Takuma was so pretty, and perhaps that’s what drew you to the younger pool cleaner in the first place. “What’s the matter, Taku?”

“I-I didn’t mean to call you that- honest!” He stammers out.

To which you’re cocking your head with a sly smile- time to try something. “Call me what, Taku?”

“Y’know what it is…” Ino grumbles, huffing. And when you simply continue to stare at him in slight confusion, he’s rockin’ up into your wet cunt as he speaks- “The way I c-called you—mommy- oh.” Just as you’d predicted, his velvety length jolts at the mere utterance of that title. Excitedly spurting out a few creamy-white wads of cum that glue to your cervix.

So messy. He was so fucking messy.

How ironic, considering that his entire job was to clean your pool.

You’d been introduced to Ino through one of your friends - those networks of older rich women with far too much time and money on their hands. Juggling kids and businesses. And you’d just been complaining to them over a gold-flaked brunch that your last pool cleaner had moved towns, and with your kids now entering middle school, the pool was left without use and starting to gather leaves. 

That’s when they’d shared Ino’s number with you—a reliable pool cleaner. Just graduated college, and so easy on the eyes if they did say so themselves…

You’d huffed that you’d tell their husbands- meanwhile you on the other hand had just recently gotten divorced. One too many nights of your husband coming home with a cloud of mysterious perfume around him, or a lipstick stain on his collar - at least you’d gotten a good chunk of everything in the divorce!

But that was all in the past- maybe love just wasn’t for you.

You had your kids. You had your gorgeous hillside mansion. You had your hobbies and friends- men just weren’t…for…

Fuck, that’s when he’d showed up at your door. 

Bright and early. Beaming with all his gorgeous pearly whites; the sweetest smile on such a killer body. Ino showed up in nothing but an unbuttoned flowery shirt and swim trunks—their lightning-yellow color perfectly complemented his slightly-tanned skin and messy brown hair. Slightly tawny from the Sun.

“Er, I hope you don’t mind.” Ino had said, a sheepish smile on his face. “I thought I’d get changed for the job before I got here.”

Mind? Mind?!

In simply what world would you mind—it took every speck of reason and rationality in you to dart your eyes away from the plane of his chest, his washboard abs. Sultry shoulders. Slender waist. There was a scattered happy trail that ran between his six-pack and- beneath his swimming trunks. 

Fuck. 

Instead, you focused on the tight necklace of shells around Ino’s throat. “C-come in.”

On the first day, you stayed inside - only peeking out occasionally from your bedroom window - as Ino cleaned your pool. You tipped him heavily.

On the second day, he’d told you that it was completely okay with him even if you used the pool whilst he was cleaning—and you took that as your sign. You donned a bikini you hadn’t gotten the chance to use in years, and sprawled yourself out on the nearest sun bed - making occasional conversation with him almost as an excuse to ogle him.

And if you weren’t mistaken, you’d say that he ogled you too. 

But you really did discover that Ino was a sweetheart- and made you giggle like a schoolgirl, too. How embarrassing you felt admitting this!

And a part of you was almost relieved when your kids arrived home from school - escorted by their driver - so you could resume your mundane lavishness. But a bigger part of you was already yearning for when you’d see him again…

And so continued the third day.

And the fourth day.

And so on to the fifth and the sixth.

Before you knew it, Ino had been employed as your pool-cleaner for at least a month—and he’d quickly grown to become someone you and your kids were quite fond of. Even your driver had caught on, and shot you a knowing smile every time you asked him to escort Ino back to his downtown apartment. Perhaps feeling jealous of such an occurrence, your ex-husband had showed up with tickets to an amusement park - already having planned a day trip for your kids.

They’d, of course, begged to go. And so you’d agreed.

Leaving nobody inside this vast mansion: but you, Ino, and the growing tension between you two. 

The only thing was, right before he left, your ex-husband had the audacity to stop Ino and snipe at him. Low and threatening. “Touch her and I’ll make you very, very sorry.”

So, of course you’d fucked Ino as soon as they were out of the house. 

Squeezing your robe-covered thighs ‘round his waist—just so perfectly curved to meet your embrace. “W-we really shouldn’t be…I mean- I’m old enough to be your-”

“Works just fine for me, pretty.” He’d cut you off. Pulling on the gauzy material of your robe to let your tits spill out- fuck, he was in heaven.

Enough so that it’d taken just putting it in for Ino to cover your luscious inside in his sap. To watch the satiny liquid seep between your pussylips and leave his pelvis gleaming with a sheen. To wrench out the most pathetic calls of your name—and one particular title that made him want to get swallowed up by the Earth.

Again and again.

Ino’s cock was longer than you’d expected - and all this time, you’d been wondering where the hell he’d been hiding all that in his swimming trunks. Just reaching over six pretty inches. Just smooooth and leaned ever-so-slightly towards the left. It’s making his bulbous tip drag across every sweet spot inside you, and your thighs quiver as you take him.

Every single inch. You’re arching your back and mustering up your strength to grind your hips forwards and back, forwards and back.

Milking him—

“C’mon, baby.” You’re cooing down at the handsome man. He blinks his teary eyes open- and you just can’t help but lean down n’ kiss them away from his cheeks. “Call me ‘mommy’ again?”

“C-can’t…” Ino blushes down to the roots of his chocolate-brown hair. “It’s embarrassing-”

“But it gets me so wet, Taku.” You pout—and his eyes widen at your admission. You watch as his pupils shift down- as if making sure. “Pleeeeeeeease? Just once?”

And in response, you smush your thighs harder around him. You’re sure you leave red, red welts on his skin - but that wasn’t registering in his mind right now. Nothing was. Nothing but the smooch of your soft velvety insides embracing his cock, and the sensation of cum sploshin’ around inside you. “Fine…but only because I wanna impress you…” His breath hitches. “-mommy.”

You shiver. “Oh, I liked that—”

And he does, too, because your cunt’s just suctioning on his length as if you were trying to take his soul. His fucking soul. 

The thing is- Ino would have gladly given it to you at this moment.

“It feels good- it f-feels s-sooooo good.” Tears begin to crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and Ino’s fingers dig into the sides of your hips as he bucks upwards. “Fuck, it should be illegal for it to feel this good- mommy.” And he can’t fucking help it—it echoes before he can stop himself. 

“Taku, I think you like saying that more than me.” With a soft chuckle, your dominant hand ends up wrapped around his throat. “C’mon now- a little faster for mommy.”

“Sh-shut—ngh.” No matter how hard he attempts to regain control- it doesn’t work. He pushes upwards into your soft, syrupy cervix as though marking it.

After a few desperate thrusts, he asks you- “Is this okay?”

“Hmmmm…” You pretend to think - and the ruined expression on his face is oh-so-completely worth it. “How about a biiiiit faster?”

His jaw drops- but he doesn’t complain. He’s grabbing onto either side of your thighs now, and plunging straight into your deepest depths—multiple thwacks! every second, it feels like. “H-how about-”

“Just a little faster.”

Doubting himself. “Is that even possible-”

“But you’d do it for- heh, me won’t you? You’d do it to make me feel good?”

Nodding and nodding. “Yes, mommy. A-anything for you mommy—” Broken moans and pleas cycle at the back of Ino’s throat, and he’s planted his feet flat on the mattress to push himself up ravenously. “M’just here for you to use me.”

Your eyes widen - your smile grows.

“Just use me-” He gasps, face reddening as he follows your instructions. “Fucking use me like a toy. Use me- fuh-fuuuck—”

“A liiiiiittle bit—” Your head tips backwards as he’s entering the perfect pace - rapid enough to leave your thoughts stupidly muddled, but still steady enough that you’re feeling every single ridge, vein, and curve. Giving your walls such a good massage—“Th-that’s perfect, Taku.” You squeeze his pretty neck tighter, and you’re hearing him let out a little hiccup of a sob. “Mommy’s so proud of you.”

Oh, and you thought that he was ruined enough already?

You thought that he was reaching his limits?

Because after that particular sentence - oh, you’re evil for that - Ino digs his digits into the flesh of your thighs and rams deep into your womb. His pistoning cock resting there for a brief few split-seconds as he sputters—“L-let me make you a mommy all over again.”

Your breath catches. “Do you even know what you’re asking for, Taku-”

“Fucking yes.” His glazed tip twitches dangerously in a way that told you he was oh-so-close to cumming again. Again.  “Yes, please- fuuuuck, let me get you pregnant. Let me make you a mommy for the third time. I-I promise I’ll be the best- ngh, dad and nothing like that asshole. I’ll take care of you and cherish you and-”

You kiss him to shut him up.

“But of course, baby.” You hum. “But you have to be quick before my ex-husband finds out.”

He’s never cum harder in his life. 

Verdict: NTA (drop the fucking tutorial, OP).

♡ GOJO SATORU - Sugar, sugar…

Gojo Satoru wasn’t technically a DILF - but he was a sugar daddy.

And they called you a gold digger.

Gojo called you business-savvy.

It was a rather unique situation: the relationship between the two of you had started out as a regular sugar daddy-sugar baby relation. You met Gojo Satoru at some stuffy ol’ business function when you were the arm candy of some other businessman—one who’d been ignoring you in favor of one of his business associates the entire night, of course.

Whatever.

You’d gotten used to this routine by now - and so you’d drifted by the grazing table with microscopic clean cuts and cheeses you couldn’t even pronounce. 

And that was exactly how your knight-in-shining-suit had sidled up next to you.

With two champagne glasses in-hand and a flirtatious smile upon his face, he handed you one of the drinks. Then you gestured at the businessmen you’d arrived with- and Gojo had the audacity to roll his eyes and pretend to retch. That was when you knew you’d get along.

Tall. Toned. With twinkling blue eyes—and just the slightest bit of silver creeping into his already-white hair. Gojo Satoru was as handsome as he was rich—and considering that both aspects occupied a fair share of the conversations tonight, you were rather flattered to be in his presence. Though the CEO of Gojo Corporations didn’t waste time: “Y’know, if I was lucky enough to arrive with an angel- I’d never leave her sight. Why waste time with some geezers over such a gorgeous gal?”

You smiled.

And you left that night with Gojo instead.

From the boxes of jewelries and flights around the world - to the tabloids and online speculation that couldn’t get enough of you. 

CEO of Gojo Corporations finally finds love?!

Gold digger or gold-hearted: All we know about Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend!

Is it sugar baby season? The newest IT Girl’s best red-carpet looks so far—

But of course, there was always some truth to those headlines. Perhaps. 

You were Gojo Satoru’s sugar baby. You were in a transactional relationship- though he never laid a hand on you. Not unless you initiated it.

So…what was it really?

You got your answer a few months into this limbo of lust—the two of you finally started dating. 

And to be quite honest; it wasn’t that big of a change at first. The two of you went out for romantic dinners either way. The two of you dodged paparazzi and rumors every step. The two of you bantered and teased as much as you did anyways- the only change would be that Gojo Satoru finally let loose when he fucked you.

Though, at times, he still did like to let his sugar daddy side peek through…

“A-awwww- just look at you.” Gojo’s hands were rubbin’ furiously down his length - from those curls of white cozily decorating his base, up to that poor, pretty tip that just wouldn’t stop cumming. Up and down. Up and down. 

Salty-sweet heaps of cum were pouring out of his cockhead and splashing down your front- your stomach, your inner thighs, your cunt. He watches as it creates a little waterfall effect—and Gojo reaches down to pat your stuffed pussy with his long fingers. “No matter what pretty trinkets n’ expensive lingerie you wear- you always look the prettiest covered in my cum, sweetheart.”

“S-Satoru—” You’re squirming underneath him. Hands clasping the silken sheets.

Your fingers were decked-out in diamond rings. Your lacy lingerie was tugged n’ pulled aside for access. 

Around you were bracelets upon necklaces upon every piece of jewelry that your heart could desire - Gojo had taken it upon himself to empty out Tokyo’s luxury stores earlier. All for you, of course.

All to drown you in—whilst he attempted to do the same with his fucking cum-

“I fuckin’ loooooove it when it covers you like this.” He hisses- nose scrunches in a feral way as he glides his fingers across those splatters. Those smears. That ruinous mess. His favorite was to see you like this: pull out game, who? You often scoffed whenever Gojo claimed that his was unmatched. “Love the way it looks like your pretty pussy can’t keep it in-” Just another light tap on your cunt. “Love the way it looks so pretty on your skin like this—mmm, you’ve got me obsessed, girl.”

Your thighs were shaky- but not shaky enough to stop you from attempting to pull him even closer. They’re wrapping around his waist, and careening him close ‘nough to kiss your puffy pussylips with his throbbing tip. His length doesn’t stop sensitively twitching for a single second—“O-oh…greedy for more, my girl?” 

“More.” Just barely managing to wrangle out. “W-want some more—”

“Fuuuuck.” He whispers underneath his breath - something so ragged in his tone. That blushin’ tip of his was twitching in excitement already, and Gojo probably doesn’t even realize before he’s slotted his still-erect length between your legs and his rockin’ away at a slow pace. “You seriously want more?”

Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation of him intruding your hole- seemingly only growing bigger every time he feels you clenchin’ around nothing. So needy. 

“Yes-” You’re nodding furiously. Perhaps had this been any other time, then you’d have been almost embarrassed at your unabashed eagerness. “B-but this time, I want it inside, Toru.”

“Inside?” Gojo’s pale brows fly to his hairline. “But you’re already stuffed so full, my sweetheart.”

And then he’s smearing his fingertips between your bloated folds- teasin’ them apart and taking a good look at your entrance. He can’t help himself - he’s spitting straight into that puckered hole—and watching at the glossy wad slips down your crevice and only adds to the mess he’s made previously. You’re shivering as he runs his nimble digits up n’ down your slit and presses on your clit.

“Yes, but—” You keen, arching into his firm core. “But you never really came inside, Toru.”

“Oh…” Those glossed lips of his part.

And you’re taking the opportunity to throw your arms weakly around him- “And I want it inside this time.” Though Gojo loved teasing you with his creamy-white sap—making you beg for it at times, he’s never properly cum inside.

He always thought it’d be too soon: you were younger, after all. And a pregnancy at this point might derail your plans-

“But I want it.” Had he been babbling this entire time? The sheer determination in your eyes sends a jolt of dark-black need through him - far more primal than he ever thought possible. Far more. Gojo’s blue peripherals glaze over as he clasps his cock even tighter, as though afraid he’s so hard now that it’d fucking fall off.

“Shouldn’t fall off now.” He whispers breathily.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Gojo quickly amends. Before he uses the pointed tip of his shaft to web up those dollops of cum he’d spurted ‘round your thighs and folds—it creates a gloss of white that he thinks would suit the insides of your pussy so well (did he mention that he was the one to pick out your lingerie colors?) ‘Round and ‘round.

It devises the most sinful sounds between your legs. And your breath catches in your throat: “A-are you gonna cum inside or not, Toru? Hurry-”

“So impatient.” He’s tutting. Voice low and husky. “I hope you know that if I fuck my cum inside—then m’gonna fuck you pregnant, sweetheart.”

Goosebumps scatter across your skin.

But Gojo doesn’t let you squirm, he doesn’t let you move about restlessly- he’s pinning you down with his hips and rumbling lowly in your ear. “M’gonna make sure it takes.” A rough sliiiiiide of his length sandwiched between your cushy pussylips - drooling for him by now. “M’gonna stuff you so full that you won’t even be able to walk—” Another rough slide. A thrust. “M’gonna give you the most precious gift of all - in my eyes.”

“P-please—!”

As you’re letting your head tip backwards, Gojo reaches his hand up to and clasps your gorgeous, gorgeous face. Smushing your cheeks together in a way that was so pathetic - “Are you okay with that, pretty baby?”

You’ve never heard him sound so serious.

And you’ve never yowled an affirmation faster in your entire life—

In the next few seconds, Gojo’s stuffed rawly all the way to the hilt and is messin’ up your insides with determined strokes. Once. Twice. Thrice- he punctures through your clingy walls and hits all the best spots - memorizing your g-spot and running his flared tip along it. 

And honestly, it doesn’t take much - the two of you were already so overstimulated already - before you’re feeling the wave of euphoria start to build up in your stomach already. Almost as lewd of a sensation as the clear twitchin’ mess that Gojo and his length had turned into—babbling, gasping, sobbing as he runs his fat cock raw on your velvety walls. Fucking raw.

You were going to make him an actual DILF.

“Y-you’re gonna get it now…” It’s the last thing he’s getting out before a flood of white sap enters your tight cunt. Getting absolutely drenched from the inside. “When have I ever forgone you of a gift, my girl?”

“Never—” You’re keening out. Rushes of pleasure start up between your legs- before crackling through your veins and ultimately ending up at your brain.

Hazy and startling at the feeling of him fucking you through both your highs. Thrust after thrust. Gush after gush of both pleasure n’ his milky-white cum. 

Underneath the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm; you can feel his spurts of cum start to trickle between your legs. It was just as warm as your skin was getting, and creating a little puddle beneath you that Gojo takes one looks at and gasps- 

“Now now, are you wasting your gift, sweetheart—?” He cocks his head, genuinely ruined. 

“N-no?”

“Or do I just have to- heh, regift it to you again?”

“Shut up.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Ms. Babysitter.

“We have to be quiet, angel- fuck. Fuck.” Higuruma’s voice sounded ragged—

Ruined. Nothing but carnal desire creeping up into the edges of his tone; giving you a jolt, considering that you’ve known the older man to be nothing but utterly calm and collected.

He was one of the best parents that you babysat for. 

One of your college friends had recommended you for the job - the hot lawyer in your neighborhood needed someone to look after his young daughter whilst he worked long nights? You were agreeing before you’d even heard the hours, you can’t deny—and despite how hasty of a decision it had been, you thoroughly enjoyed working under Higuruma Hiromi.

And being under Higuruma Hiromi…though that didn’t come until a few weeks after you’d been employed. 

The first night, you’d barely seen him. Dark hair. Dark circles.

The main thing you remember was that he looked exhausted—and some strange part of you was actually enticed by the hard-working man. Especially when he was such a gentleman…

Fuck, that suit fit him so well.

He addressed you oh-so-respectfully; unlike some parents who were tempted to treat you like a live-in server. Hands behind his back. Jet-black eyes to himself as he gave you a two-minute tour around the house- you’d been thoroughly enjoying yourself admiring his broad shoulders in that suit, when a sudden call from the office meant your tour had to be paused. 

Higuruma had pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. He’d sighed.

And he was out that door before you could even confirm bedtime- which hadn’t been too much of a problem, to be honest. His daughter was extremely well-behaved and didn’t hesitate to let you know. 

She also didn’t hesitate to let you know that her dad was very, very single.

You let her stay up just a liiittle past her bedtime. 

And then the second night, he’d apologized for his hastiness - telling you that a recent case had them fighting to prepare before the court deadline, and there’d just been so many fucking tax audits to go through.

You nodded like you understood. But what really intrigued you was when he’d told you that his daughter had just loved having you over. Though a part of you was simply satisfied that you did your job well (buttered popcorn and K-pop Demon Hunters wins again!), you can’t deny that it made your heart…flutter hearing it from the older man like this. 

It made you realize that you had a little crush.

So of course, you made him a regular.

And the pay was so good that you were able to weed out your other clients to focus predominantly on Higuruma and his bizarre babysitting schedule (some nights he worked until 3AM…)—you guessed the overtime was paying off. 

Though your interactions were limited mostly to the brief conversations before and after- though you never did cross your boundaries. That all came to a head when one night - about a month or two into your babysitting gig - Higuruma suddenly perked up after a late night at the office. It was 3:31AM when he quietly let himself inside the house, sighing as he finally tugged off his tie.

It was 3:32AM by the time you got up off the couch and offered him some cookies you’d made with his daughter in the morning.

3:40AM when he suddenly remembered- and suggested resuming that house tour you didn’t get to finish. And though you’d been a bit hesitant—for nothing other than the fact that you might wake his sleeping daughter up, he promised that the two of you would be quiet.

Then, finally, 3:47AM when he was telling you to be quiet in bed-

“Wouldn’t wanna wake her up, hm?” The prominent outline of his nose runs down the side of your throat - and it makes you shiver. Fuck, you always have thought that that was one of the most handsome parts of him. 

A soft moan strangles in your throat as he slots his thickened tip between your folds—feeling it like this, your mind’s reeling with the question of how the fuck he’s going to fit like this.

Higuruma always did strike you as the type of man to be big; but this was enough to make your mouth water and your eyes damn-near bulge out of your skull. From here, you were feeling at least seven or eight inches of his erection, furiously hot, wrapped in throbbing red veins and having the most luscious precum dripping out from top. He seemed hard enough to fucking ruin you - just how you wanted it. 

And as if reading your mind, Higuruma runs his slippery wet tip down your pussylips, and trundles in his low tone. “Are you sure you want to do it? We don’t have to rush into anything if you don’t want-”

“I do.” Cutting him off mid-sentence.

Although by the way that Higuruma’s stern lips were quirking up ever-so-slightly—you’re taking it to mean that he didn’t exactly mind. He keeps one hand underneath your ass, so that you can be pushed up into his roverin’ hips, and his other one caresses your cheek softly. “Hm, is that so…? Then I guess what I meant to say is…can you take every single inch, sugar?”

You gulp. Your eyes dart down nervously to his twitchin’, throbbing length. “Yes.”

And you’ve never been more sure of anything.

Higuruma merely horses out - “Then buckle up, angel.”

Before you know it, his round, ruddied tip is probin’ inside. Sifting your gluey walls from side-to-side before spreading you up so maddeningly open.

He spots your sweet areas with a few dollops of pre- as soon as Higuruma found himself inside you, he was fighting back whimpers of pleasure. The older man’s achin’ cock doing all the talking for him as he shovels his way in—

“Sh-shit.” Your eyes sprint to the back of your head as you take him. “Shit, you’re so big-”

The way you’re moving your hips around as though confused whether to buck right down or make him ease up- it’s just so cute. And he plants a reassuring hand on the side of your waist, “Easy now.” Higuruma hushes out, “Eeeeeeasy, angel. You can take it for me.”

“Right there—” You keen out as his flared tip rubs along your g-spot.

And although he knows what you meant, that doesn’t stop Higuruma from throwing you a ravishing smirk. Letting his second hand run down your core- “No, sugar. Right here.” He pushes down right where he knew your womb would be - that soft pressure making your walls clench around him wildly, until you could feel every throb of his engorged tip even in your brain. “And you’re gonna take it f’me, right?” 

Jostling you hard with every thrust—so that you’re nodding away. Almost pathetically. 

“Mhm…exactly what I thought.” He coos - so lovingly thrusting away between your quiverin’ legs. Higuruma’s skin slap-slap-slaps against yours at a steady pace, “Just a few more inches now—keep quiet, please.”

“I’m t-trying.” Gnawing down on your lower lip. “How many more?”

“Ah, just one inch…two…” And after a prolonged thrust- so deep that you swear you’re feeling it in your throat, Higuruma cracks a grin. “Maybe more.”

Five more?

Five more?

And you were already on the verge of being fucked absolutely stupid? You’re letting a groan escape you—lewd and louder than you intended- and before the realization hits you, Higuruma himself swiftly reaches over to where his work tie had been dangling off the side of the bed. Bunching it up, shoving it between those pretty lips - he couldn’t have anyone waking up now, could he?

And that’s exactly what he’s telling you: “C’mon, angel…” Shoves getting deeper and longer. Rougher- as he rams his thickened inches past where you don’t think anyone’s ever gone before. And throughout it all, the older man was so steady with you—“C’mon- c’mon. You can do this—fuuuuuck, you can do this. This pussy’s gonna take all of me, right?”

Nodding and nodding.

“Yeah? Because you’re my goooood girl, right? Taking me so well.” He continues rasping - tone pitching higher and higher as he goes on. “My good- fucking- girl—”

“O-oh, fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“You’re my goooooood fucking girl, huh?” The stubs of his five o’ clock shadow rub up against your skin. The deeper he thrusts, the hotter his body seems to become on top of yours. More and more. “Can you count how many inches m’putting in you?”

Tears flow down your eyes, “Y-yes- mmpf.” Somehow managing past the tie. “Ah- four? Five. Six.”

Higuruma’s eyes widen.

“Seven—” Your voice seems like it’s on the verge of cracking. “Eight.”

It’s just too adorable how you’re sweetly attempting to respond to him even with the gag in. And Higuruma can’t help himself as he leans in and kisses you through the tie.

It’s hot and it’s messy.

And it ends up with him smiling against your stuffed lips, “Finally bottomed-out.”

Hazily, you’re blinking a few times. It clears your vision enough for you to jerk your head down and see that it was indeed true, Higuruma had stuffed himself inside your pussy until his thick base was kissin’ your pussylips. Just the most innocent peck.

“And now…” Except…fuck, except he was reeling right back again. “-for the fun part.”

Right back until that rounded tip stretched your hole out.

Right back inside-

“Makes me wanna put a baby in you- I swear. Taking me like this.” 

A/N. TONY’S BACK.

——

You remember being laid across your bed, phone in hand as you yapped away to a new friend of yours. Now, you and this friend got along because he was the complete opposite of Sukuna. He didn’t threaten you over petty things, didn’t curse you out and call you mean nicknames, and most importantly, he wasn’t batshit crazy.

While you were busy half-listening to your friend’s voice on the line, you began to smell the faint scent of something acrid. The smell made your face scrunch up, nose crinkling as your brows furrowed and you glanced around your room. You thought that maybe you could’ve left the stove or oven on somehow, even though you don’t remember turning either of those things on..

The scent reminded you of burnt toast if it was intensified to the third degree so, clearly something was burning.

“Are you even listening to me…?” The man on your phone grumps. You could practically picture the pout on his lips, “Hellooo?”

Shaking out of what’s got your expression shifting, “Yeah-, yes, I’m here,” You replied hurriedly, “Sorry, Satoru, gimme a second.” You end up telling him as that smell from the first floor of your home began to grow stronger.

The whole thing was making you very uneasy and it didn’t take much for you to feel the panic seeping up into your veins as you slipped out of your bed and went rushing towards your door. As soon as you opened it, you were smacked in the face with clouds of thick, black smoke that made you cough, bringing one hand up to cover your nose as you ducked and walked out into the wall of heat coating your home’s air.

“You alright over there?” Gojo had asked you, having heard your coughs and even catching a faint crackling as the phone picked it up into the call.

Between another cough, “Yeah, m’fine,” You say jokingly, “My house is just on fire.”

“What??” He gasps, taking in the full severity of the situation, “Shouldn’t you be calling the cops or something?”

You’re leisurely making your way down the hall with your nose still covered and your body slightly hunched over so you don’t inhale too much smoke. This isn’t the first time a certain someone has set something of yours on fire so you suppose that’s why you’re more annoyed than you are scared as you make your way to the edge of your staircase.

Standing there, you lean into the phone a little more. “Yeah, I’m getting to it…” You tell Gojo, easing your way down the steps to peak around the corner and see that the fire is much bigger than what you were expecting.

Again, this isn’t the first time that “best friend” of yours went setting shit on fire in your house. But, this is the first time he set your actual house aflame. Your eyes widen and all that casualty you previously had died inside you as big, wild flames pop and crackle with heat from your living room.

“Oh shit,” You gasped, “S-Satoru, I’ll call you back.”

“Are you oka—“ Before he could even finish, you were hanging up and moving with shaky fingers to dial the police.

And somewhere under all those flames, you swore you heard laughing. Sick, maniacal, and twisted laughter—a sound of which you’d come to recognize anywhere.

Everything that happens after that is one big ugly blur of events. Such an innocent night had turned into something foul all because you’d called Gojo one of your best friends earlier in the day. You don’t even know how the fuck Sukuna got wind of that comment but low and behold, he was the one who set your living room on fire.

The cops were called shortly after you’d discovered the flames and you remember having to be transported out safely in the arms of one hulky blonde fireman, who Sukuna then tried to attack before he was swiftly arrested and pinned to the ground by policemen.

Outside of your home, the two of you had argued back and forth from a distance while they worked cuffs over his wrists. You don’t remember the details of what you’d shouted at him as most of what you spewed was in anger but you do still picture the crazed smile the man had on his face every time you said something especially vicious to him. That was exactly why he liked you so much–, or rather, liked being your friend so much.

Sukuna always adored how you never let him walk all over you, even after he’d literally burnt a part of your house down. 

Somewhere between him getting arrested and that sweet blonde fireman—who’s name you noted as Nanami—Sukuna happened to see a gently clothed hand cleanse your face from the few ashes that’d covered your features. The only thing you heard was a snap as he’d broken out of the cuffs and launched himself forward.

It was an even bigger mess from then on.

You barely remember seeing that poor fireman get punched in the face, to which you jumped up, went swinging at Sukuna and… yeah, it was bad. Really bad.

It took multiple police officers and firefighters to pry the two of you off of one another. Well, more like to pry you off of him. You’d landed multiple blows to his face and quickly caused his nose to bleed but, the thing about that entire altercation that had you livid was the fact that he was smiling throughout each second of it.

This was another thing that wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to do. You’d done almost everything under the sun towards one another within the past ten years that you were acquainted—which yes, includes fighting one another. Though, the fighting in question mostly consisted of you hitting him and Sukuna just taking it.

He may have been crazy in every other field imaginable but he'd, surprisingly, never hit a woman. Especially not you.

While you'd been beating up on the man and just before the officers had pulled you two apart, you do remember one more little detail that still manages to cling to your mind to this day.

It was just as an officer had shouted something along the lines of, "Stop right there!" that you recall the glint in Sukuna's eyes dimming and the way his smug smirk flickered. It seemed like reality had finally settled back into his head for a moment and even though you still had a partially bloodied fist hoisted up, ready to land on his face again, you swear that second stretched out longer than it should've before his voice came out ever so softly.

"Fun's over, huh?" Sukuna had whispered to you, as if he somehow knew and fully expected this to be his last moment seeing you. He understood that he was going to jail for all this but that wasn't exactly his biggest concern.

His main thing here was that he had to accept the fact that you probably hate him now—

"Fuck you." You spat, finally, before he could even finish his thought.

If the pill wasn't a tough one to swallow previously, it damn sure was then.

You were pulled off of him seconds later and he was dragged away—this time towards the back of a police car—and although there was something distant and somber about the way his eyes still lingered on you and that same fireman who came to help you, he kept those two words of yours in the forefront of his mind.

After all, it was the last thing you'd said to him.

“Are you okay?” Nanami ended up asking you as he stepped impossibly closer and was quick to tend to you as if his condition wasn't worse off. Concern was etched all into his features but, even though you heard him, your eyes were busy fixed onto Sukuna.

You managed a nod and felt the man's hands reach for yours to clean the blood off of them. You should've been able to take your eyes off of the same guy who literally just set your house on fire and then proceeded to attack someone just for helping you.

And yet, there you were, letting Nanami's smooth suggestion of, "Let’s get you checked out,” flow through one ear and out the other.

Even as he gently pulled you away from the scene, your mind was one big mess of confliction. You're supposed to hate Sukuna now, obviously. He was insane!

But... he's always been that way and somehow, you've always forgiven him for it. Maybe it was because there was more good with him than there was bad. Or perhaps it was because he was the only man you knew could match your crazy.

Part of you wanted to go and fight for Sukuna's freedom after the whole ordeal, y'know, that really delusional and stupid part of you. And the other half of you knew that the sensible thing to do here was to leave him where he was. Maybe a couple years in jail would do him some good.

Right?

——

That was five years ago from now, where your home has since been repaired and free of the violent crimes of which your ex-best friend committed against you.

Luckily, you listened to the logical half of your brain and went against fighting for his freedom or contacting him at all, no matter how many times you found yourself missing him.

These days you try to convince yourself that you don't even think about him as much but, every time you bring a new guy into your life it just feels weird or, something feels like as though it were crawling up your spine. Especially if you tried to talk to someone romantically.

You'd always experience this odd lump of guilt eating away at you and it made you feel strange considering the fact that you should feel free of Sukuna's control over you and who you date. You'd been in relationships before he was locked up, after all.

Even though most of them ended in the weirdest ways...

You remember how one guy told you how he didn't want to die just for dating you. At the time you laughed it off, thinking he was being dramatic, but looking back on it now... perhaps Sukuna had something to do with it?

There was also the time a guy completely ghosted you just a few days after you'd both admitted you were in love with one another. You don't know what that was all about but, again, looking back on it now...

To take your mind off of the man you're not supposed to be thinking about, you end up fishing for your remote after plopping down on your living room couch. The TV soon flicks on and you shove all thoughts of your ex-best friend into the very back of your mind where he belongs.

He's exactly where he's supposed to be now anyway; rotting in a cell somewhere.

On a brighter note, for the past five years straight you've been living your best life. For the most part, anyway.

You and that nice blond fireman got closer through the years and he often comes over to your house to give you some company after you'd explained how Sukuna was your closest friend years ago. You know Nanami visits you out of pity but, you never exactly reject him.

The only unfortunate thing about that situation is the fact that every time he flirts with you, you can't find it in yourself to reciprocate. There's nothing wrong with him and he'd be a good fit for you, truly. The issue here is that you can't ignore how wrong you feel when you're with him.

He could be doing nothing more than sitting on your couch watching TV with you and yet you felt as though you had Sukuna's eyes burning into the very back of your skull—watching, judging, daring. There was even a time you and Nanami tried kissing. He wasn't bad at it and neither were you, something was just wrong about it and you didn't know what it was.

Perhaps Sukuna had unconsciously conditioned you into some sort of deep rejection towards anyone that wasn't him and you hadn't realized it.

Things only became clear for you when the same thing happened with Gojo. Who you tried going on dates with, tried to let spoil you, and even tried sleeping with. All of which failed miserably, especially that last little act. You'd felt off the entire time, so much so that you don't even think you were turned on.

Which was crazy to think about considering he's Gojo Satoru! It's not like you weren't into him.

He'd treated and touched you better than any guy ever had before—as did Nanami—but maybe that was the problem. Maybe you didn't want something that was smooth and gentle with you. Maybe you needed the craziness you only knew to come with the asshole sitting in prison right now.

Or at least... the asshole that was sitting in prison.

The moment your TV finally turns on, there's a news report playing that instantly snatches up your attention and makes every vein in your body run cold. The report ahead explains how a man who'd been convicted for arson had recently escaped prison and has been on the run for at least three days now.

You swallow thickly and your eyes quickly flock around to various corners of your house. Three days? Logically speaking—and not like you looked this up before or anything but—that's about the same amount of time it would take for him to get to your house on foot...

You turn back to your TV and sink further into your couch, turning the volume up to listen intently to the rest of the report before you drive yourself insane. The fugitive could be anyone after all. Arson is a pretty common crime to commit, isn't it?

"—The man is said to be at least six feet tall with pink hair, dark red eyes, and tattoos all over his face," The woman on your screen adds on suddenly before a mugshot pops up just a few inches away from her.

Aaaand fuck, it's him.

You immediately shoot up from your seat and start rushing around your house to make sure all the doors are locked and that every window is shut tightly. Hell, you even consider bordering up all exits and entryways.

The sound of your heart racing in your chest thumps all the way up against your eardrums as you fight with the increasing sensation of paranoia rising within you. You move all throughout your home, slamming doors shut and double-checking each lock with slightly trembling hands.

You hate how all it took was one little report to have you all anxious and thinking about him again. It's been five years. Maybe you saw the report wrong, maybe it was about that younger, identical nephew of his...

No, no, that doesn't even make sense. He was just a kid the last time you saw him and from what you remember, he wants to be nothing like his crazy ass uncle.

Fuck.

Over six feet tall, pink hair, dark red eyes, tattoos all over his face... Only one person fits that description and you know it.

Fuck.

You saw his face too, you can't just ignore that and try to convince yourself it isn't him.

The news is still playing off in the background, echoing throughout the walls of your house almost hauntingly now as you struggle to ignore the punctuating reality of Sukuna no longer being behind bars.

"He's not coming here," You mutter to yourself, despite the suddenly pounding memories of him flooding right back into the forefront of your mind.

Fuck.

It's been five years, there's no way he's going to escape from prison just to come torment you again. Or worse, to come get revenge from you not coming to see him all this time...

Then again, if you still can't help but think about him in moments where you really shouldn't be, he's probably been doing the same thing. Hell, you're probably the only thing on his mind right now.

Something in your chest throbs at the mere idea. You don't know why that invoked such a physical reaction from you, it's not like you've ever liked the guy or anything like that.

Aside from the first few years of your friendship when you had the biggest crush on him.

But that was fifteen years ago, feelings like that don't linger this long. Feelings like that shouldn't linger for this long, not after he's burned down a quarter of your house and has been sent off to jail for it.

For a moment you consider dialing the police but, what exactly would they do aside from send an officer or two out to your house for the night? Your phone is in your hands now and all you're doing is staring at the screen with a million thoughts in your head.

You can't call the police, that'd just end in another big brawl between you and Sukuna before he's arrested again and, unfortunately, the last thing you feel like doing is fighting anymore. You don't think you have the energy for that, especially not this late into the night. So, you end up pocketing your phone and instead head back to your living room.

Up until you hear a sudden thud from somewhere behind your house.

Your heart sinks into your ass and you freeze. Straining your ears to catch more sounds, you slowly turn on your heels and creep back towards your kitchen. The floorboards beneath your steps creak softly but you swear you hear a distance set of steps creeping around as well.

Yet, when you stop, the sound stops as well.

So perhaps you were just driving yourself insane?

Yeah, that's probably it. It's been five whole years, Sukuna would not spend all that time thinking about you and then turn around and come back to the same woman who got him thrown into jail. He's crazy but he's not that crazy.

Taking one more stretchy moment to let the silence linger on, you release a long sigh and pace into your kitchen. Just in case, you still want to have a weapon on you in the event that your delusions turn out to be true.

Right before you reach the knives, the sound of your house phone ringing like something out of a cliche slasher movie cuts through the air and easily scares the shit out of you.

Flinching, you hurry over to it and scramble about to get the phone into your hands properly, quickly lifting it up to your ear. "Hello?" You call out with a slightly shaky voice.

At first there's no sound, just static. Which, of course makes you want to hang up.

You've never been a fan of scary shit and the only person who knows that about you is Sukuna. So if the creepy silence was telling you anything, it's that it was definitely him—

"Hey, have you seen the news?" Gojo's voice rings out to you after one too many deafening seconds of eerie silence.

With a heavy sigh of relief, you almost smile into the phone. Thank God it's just him. "Yeah," You reply half-breathily, "Of course I saw it."

There's a slight sound of shuffling over the phone and you think you hear keys for a moment, "Do you want me to come over? Y'know, just in case that maniac shows up?"

You're shaking your head before speaking, "No, no, you don't have to do all that, Satoru. I'm fine-, it's fine."

"You don't sound fine..." He points out.

You roll your eyes for a moment, hating how well he's gotten to know you over the past few years. Leaning against your kitchen counter a little, you glance over at the knives just a few inches away from you, "How do I sound then?"

Gojo scoffs harmlessly, "Shaken up."

You're quiet for a moment and within it, it's almost like your breathing is echoing around you. Ignoring the intensified sound, you shake your head and shut your eyes for a second to ground yourself, "I'm fine, really."

The man over the phone lets out a long hum and you could almost hear the skeptical look on his face, "I'd be over in fifteen minutes top, y'know... I just-"

"Satoru," You cut off gently, "Seriously, I'm okay. I... I know how to handle myself and I doubt he's even coming here. It's been three whole days after all. He's probably on the other side of the country by now."

"Right..." Gojo trails off for a moment before shrugging, even though you can't see it. "Well, if you're sure. Just uh," He clicks his tongue slightly and leans into the phone, voice getting a little louder against your ear, "Call me if you need anything."

"I will, I will." You promise, "Goodnight, Satoru. A-And don't call my house phone anymore, you scared the shit out of me."

He chuckles, "Sorry, you weren't picking up your cell so I got a little worried. But, yeah, goodnight, sweetheart."

You place the house phone back into its original place and the call ends there. Your hand lingers on top of the phone for a bit before you slowly slide your touch away and let your shoulders relax.

All the tension that'd been there just a moment ago has died down a little and you feel calmer now.

See? Everything is perfectly fine.

But, it wouldn't hurt to grab one of those knives just in case...

Fishing through the knife holder, you eventually pluck one up and bring it closer to you for inspection. You let the blade's end tap against your finger softly to make sure it's sharp, not exactly cutting yourself but just checking it out. Then, you breathe out another sigh as if to steady yourself again.

You had a weapon and you could call up Gojo if anything else went sideways so, everything was okay.

Just as you turn around, that last little thought of yours is practically fucked out of your head violently. There's a tall, brooding frame of a man standing a few feet away from you inside of your kitchen, the sight of him enough to make your entire body flinch with a physical force strong enough for you to drop the knife you just picked up.

You shoot down for the weapon you dropped and scramble it back up into your hands before rising up to your feet again, seeing that the man who'd just scared you hasn't moved an inch.

As your breath remains uneven and weighted with fear, the male inside your house is standing there with that signature smile of wickedness plastered all over his face. Cocking a thick pink brow, which you notice has two slits in one them, "'Sweetheart', huh?" He drawls, voice all dense with a baritone that fills every inch of the space between you both.

Your eyes are wide and frantic, running over every bit of your ex-best friend standing before you, trying to figure out whether or not this is real or just some fucked up nightmare. His hair, that same bright pink you know it to be, is all unkempt and wild atop his head as his eyes, low-lidded and dark, steadied onto yours.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You hiss out slowly, sounding unsure in your own tone given the abundant sense of unease inside you.

You watch his lower, rose-toned lip get pulled in between his teeth at the mere sound of your voice before his head angles to the side in slow motion. Then he lets his crimson eyes drag up and down the expanse of your frightened frame and swallows up every inch of you with his gaze alone. It's only been a few seconds and you felt as though you were shrinking under him already, despite the distance between you.

Sukuna's voice carries out with the same rasp that never fails to drive you insane, "Awh, come now," He coos with a pout of mocking smearing across his face for a moment, "Is this any way to greet your best friend? Pointing a knife at me as if it hasn't been years since we've last seen one another."

Your eye twitches in annoyance, "You set my fucking house on fire!"

He visibly reacts to the elevation in your tone with a rise of his brows and a slight adjustment backwards as if you'd pushed at him. "Surely you're not still mad about that," He purrs lowly before taking a small step forwards and ignoring the blade you have aimed his way.

You shift backwards but you merely meet the counter and realize you'd have to run left or right if you wanted to escape him. That, and most of the exits are somewhere behind him.

"You need to leave," You breathe hotly, "Get out before I call the cops again or I swear to—"

"Call the cops again?" Sukuna scoffs loudly and his next step closer makes the floor groan distantly under his bulky frame, "You think they can keep me locked up forever? I escaped once, I can do it again." Now he's only a few more steps away from you and you've yet to pry yourself away from your spot.

You hate how you can hardly move under his gaze, as if you'd been put under some type of spell or something, your body condemned to stay in place.

"And do you know where I'll come once I do?" He adds on slowly, sneaking nearer until he's only one step away from your personal space. "Right," The distance lessens as he takes that final step, "Back," Sukuna extends an arm out and you feel it brush against your side as he places his hand on the counter behind you, his lips grazing your ear now, "To you." he finishes off in a chilling whisper.

You fall impossibly quieter and he pulls away from your ear just to meet eyes with you, leaving you there to stare up at him with years of and years of emotions floating around your gaze. You wanted to say something, anything, but the only thing you could manage was a subtle twitch of your lips. To which he took as an opportunity to fill the silence.

Tone almost vulnerable if you listened hard enough, "I just wanted to see you," Sukuna admits, almost like he'd missed you or something.

Your grip on that rather useless knife of yours tightens, as does the feeling in your chest. You're standing face to face with him now, halfway trapped between his large body and the counter behind you.

And as if to unintentionally ruin the moment, his eyes sink further along your frame, drinking in your lack of a response to him and instead letting his expression color itself in amusement as he leans down to you and whispers, “You look good.”

The heated, “Fuck you.” that pours past your lips is instantaneous. You didn't even have to think about the words before uttering them, nor do you regret saying them to him in such a distasteful tone.

Sukuna hums somewhere deeply in his throat and draws himself back just a bit, “That’s what I’m here for, brat.”

You blink, “What?”

“Don’t you remember?" He continues, eyes studying every curve and twitch in your face as if he'd forgotten how expressive you could be. "All those years ago, that’s what you asked me to do, isn’t it?”

Your lashes are batting with perplexity now, “I didn’t ask you to do shit-”

“Well, that is the last thing you said to me.” He cuts off quickly. Then his hand moves off of the counter behind you and you instinctively draw your knife up, the tip of the blade tickling his chin and causing his head to tip back some. There's a faint hitch in his breath as he's caught off guard ever so faintly.

Testingly, your eyes remain vexing and pointing upwards on his, “So?”

His hand carefully reaches your wrist and his fingers curl around it, his touch a sense of gentleness you've never felt from him before. Sukuna was touching you as if you were made of some kind of porcelain—liable to break at any given moment. Which, naturally, had you even more pissed off. It lets you know that five years away from you did nothing but make him think he'd left you all fragile and on the edge of breaking or something.

“Are you really gonna sit there and act like you didn’t miss me all this time?" The fugitive questions further, voice an annoying cadence of softness. It was so out of character for him that it made you feel even more uneasy standing in front of him.

Something wasn't right here.

“I didn’t," You claim as if you hadn't spent over half of those five years doing exactly that.

“Mh," Sukuna hums again and this time his lips twitch back up into that usually smug smile, voice dropping, "Yeah? Is that what helps you sleep at night?”

To combat with his never ending smugness, you try to appear as nonchalant about it as you can and drag out your little white lie some more, “Yup.”

“Tch.” He's quickly irritated by that one word threading past your lips with such indifference, “So I set your house on fire one time and now all of a sudden ten years of friendship don’t mean shit to you?” He asks.

The statement itself was almost more concerning than the fact that he'd done that to you. You'd think five years in confinement would help a person think over their actions and actually consider the wrong in their crimes but apparently Sukuna Ryomen wasn't prone to such a thing.

“You tried to kill me, asshole.” You remind him for the nth time.

He talks half a step away from you and chuckles, “I’d never do something like that and you know it. If that fire had hurt you that day, I’d never forgive myself for it.” Sukuna claims in a weirdly endearing way.

You hate how that makes your chest do that weird clenching thing again, as if his words still had an honest affect on you after all this time. Somewhere distantly in your mind, you were screaming at yourself about how you should've called the police on him again when you had the chance, while you were still somewhat in your right mind. But now it was too late, you were already wrapped around his finger tightly with no desire to unravel yourself from him.

Before you can manage out another jab, he ends up bringing one of those large hands of his up to his sharpened jawline and then runs his palm over it carefully, gaze drooling out an emotion you don't care to acknowledge right now, “And I meant what I said,” He whirs, “You look good.”

Finally rolling your eyes elsewhere, “You shouldn’t be here.” You deflect.

Sukuna obviously doesn't move, “You’re not telling me to leave.”

“You need to.”

“Do you want me to?” He retorts, taking the following long second of silence as a decent enough response from you, “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

After which you allow yourself a moment to finally take the sight of him in. He's not as close as he was before which is somewhat helpful to your buzzing nerves but... fuck, he got even hotter within the time he's been gone.

Sukuna's always been tall but you swear he's grown a few more inches. All his features are sharper and more defined as if he hadn't let a day go by without properly taking care of himself, despite being locked away for so long. His body is staggering more so now than ever before as he stands in front of you clad in nothing more than a crisp white T-shirt and the rest of his prison jumper sitting low on his hips.

Now, this shouldn't be as distracting as it is but, as soon as you look down you can't help the way your eyes widen at the sight of the slightest sliver of smooth skin peeking out from the space between his lower abdomen and his pelvis. That bright orange fabric was way too low on his hips and you're sure he was aware of it too.

The toned V-line of his was adorned with trails of teasing veins that led to something you swore yourself up and down you didn't want to think about at all. But of course, it's hard not to think about it when you see that heavy tent in his crotch. You always knew Sukuna was... packing but, most times when you'd acknowledged it, you tried to shove the thought away just as quickly as it came.

It's a little hard to do that now when he's standing right in front of you watching you watch him. You don't even realize the way your eyes all but linger there as your lips part and a soft breath ghosts past them.

Then you're speaking your mind without thinking first, “You got… bigger.”

Your eyes are still glued to that outline of something bulky in his pants just before you hear him scoff at your shamelessness and force yourself to look up again. Sukuna's eyes look hungrier now. Shit, that wasn't your intention at all. You're should be kicking him out of your house right now-

“That’s what five years in a cell does to someone, woman," The man drawls, voice a pitch lower already.

One little moment of taking in his appearance and he was already feeling the effect you had on him. Moving your gaze away from his starved one, you resort to studying his now folded arms and how hefty they are tucked over his even broader chest. The tattoos across his skin still seemed as fresh as ever, almost as if not a day had ever gone by.

Clearing your throat and ignoring how hot you start to feel when your mind flashes an image of those same arms around you, “F-Five years in that cell and you still can’t even address me by my-” You're cut off when he looms closer all of a sudden, causing your stammered words to die out in your throat somewhere. He's mute as he draws close and then cranes his head down to your neck, inhaling you sharply. “...What are you doing?” You ask slowly, heart beginning to do that loud thumping thing again.

“You smell like another guy,” Sukuna utters a few inches away from your skin. It was almost as though he could see the scent of someone else on you before he even leaned in like that.

It gave you chills.

Trying to laugh his actions off again, you end up reaching a free hand up to his chest to try and lightly push him away, “What are you, a dog?”

“Woof," wisps out of his lips in a half-joking manner but with the way it slathers against your skin before the tip of his nose replaces the sensation as he zeros in on your neck, you're left struggling with a million and one emotions.

“The fuck…?” You whisper to yourself.

He only chuckles at your reaction, finding it rather cute, “Is that what I have to be to get in your good graces again?" Sukuna asks as his face adjusts to your neck and his teeth graze you, "Some kind of mutt?"

"No," You scoff, "Y-You're never getting in my good graces again." Your hand pushes at him again but even he could tell you don't mean anything by the gesture. Especially considering how you finally place your knife down somewhere behind you.

To which he smiles knowingly, "Oh yeah?"

"...Yeah," You manage out softly, turning your head to try and see what exactly he's doing.

"You don't sound so confident," Sukuna utters into your skin as if to let his words tattoo themselves into the area.

And hey, maybe you didn't sound confident because you weren't. So instead of searching for something new to say to him in response, you fall back on the same thing you've been saying to him for as long as you can remember. Angling your head elsewhere as you scoff a neatly said, "Fuck you."

"You keep saying that," He replies quickly while steadily gliding his head away from your neck and lifting. It's then that you're made well aware of how close he is to you now. Such little distance remains from his face to yours and all it would take is a short lean downwards for his lips to be against yours if either of you wished it so, "And I'm starting to think you want me to." He finishes off bluntly.

You blink out of your temporary daze just then, "What?"

"Fuck you," Your ex-best friend half-way clarifies, "It seems like you want me to fuck you."

"You-," Your words pause whilst your lashes flutter over one another, mind troubling itself trying to wrap around the audacity he seemed to carry after all this time. "You can't set my house on fire, go to jail for it, and then come back to me years later and try to sleep with me," You remind the man as you carry your stern gaze back up onto his, "Time does not equate to an apology, asshole."

Sukuna cocks a brow and bites back a laugh at the sound of that, "Is that what you need from me? A measly little apology?"

You scoff, "No, I don't need one from you but it would be nice-"

"I'm sorry." He says frankly, "Now, what else can I do to make up for it, hm?" His other hand presses behind you and you're trapped between both of his bulky arms before you even realize it, his voice dropping a tone and making the moment all the more intimate, "One thousand, eight hundred, and twenty nine days in which I have not seen nor heard from you and yet," You watch as his head tilts slowly and his eyes cascade down to the curve of yours lips, "You expect me to pry myself away from you?"

"Sukuna," You whisper, feeling almost suffocated in the lack of space between the two of you. Every fiber of his being was swallowing you up by the second and yet no matter how consuming it all felt, you couldn't find it in yourself to want to pull away.

You're unsure why his name even tiptoes past your lips like that when you carry no sort of argument against him any more. Sure, you should hate him now-, you think you still do but, it's hard to consider those emotions when he's so close.

Then his voice sinks another octave and your knees are feeling weak as his words exit him with something sinfully heated behind them, "I have missed you, achingly, for years," Sukuna claims, leaving you intoxicated in everything that pertains to him all over again. The tip of his finger meets your chin and forces your head further up, both of you now looking at the same thing now. "Yet you deny me. Why?" He questions.

You swallow thickly, as if that would lessen your nonexistent will to escape him, "You tried to kill me..." Your voice is meek and you hate every second of it, "Y-You set my house on fire."

The man fights with the smile that nearly broadens itself across his lips, "You remain unharmed."

"What about my home, Sukuna?" You ask in return, seeing as that is the most important thing here second to your well-being. Your tone is a little more sturdy now and he catches onto it, the sound making that undesirable glint in his irises return.

"It has been repaired, I see," He points out comically. After which his hand shifts and he holds the entirety of your jaw in his palm, thumb caressing your skin whilst he leans in and stops juuuust before his lips are on yours, "What more do you want from me?"

Your mouth trembles with the words that ached to leave them, unconsciously longing for the finality that is him kissing you at some point. You hated how in all the time he's been gone you'd done everything but move on and instead worked yourself up to a point so low in being touch-starved that you wanted to whine from the sheer closeness you shared with him alone.

"...Tell me why you did it." You eventually manage to demand from him.

He sighs but his answer is immediate, "You tried to replace me."

"What?" Your brows meet and your eyes shoot up to his, "No I didn't. I-I'd never-,"

"Gojo," Sukuna starts off interruptingly, allowing himself to meet those gorgeous pupils of pure vexing distaste he'd missed oh-so-graciously, "The fireman..."

"You can't be serious," You spat as you barely made an attempt to tug your chin out of his hold.

The effort you make is completely in vain since he only tightens his grip and this time tugs you impossibly closer, your breaths intertwining with one another now. "Forgive me," He demands, lips grazing the skin of yours as he does so.

Your mind halts every thought for a moment. The way he was looking at you alone was enough for you to have forgiven him a long time ago. Hell, you almost forget you were ever even mad with him to begin with. Sputtering, "I-I can't just-"

"Then let me apologize properly," Sukuna cuts off smoothly, words practically seeping out directly into your mouth now.

And all you could do was swallow down each one, completely entrapped in every thread of seductive manipulation he'd woven into you over the years. Your statement is airy as it strings out of you slowly, "You shouldn't even be here."

"I'm here because you need me to be," He protests.

You detest how true that may be but, you lie anyway, "No, I don't."

"Your body betrays your claims," The fugitive points out in the same way he always had whenever he saw directly through you, "Just look at the way you've leaned into my every touch as if you crave it—long for it, even," Sukuna continues on as his lips being to part over your own, ready to capture them in the sweetest, long overdue kiss. "Let me make my amends to you, woman." He requests of you kindly, shortly adding a borderline desperate, "Please."

——

You should never have given to that, really.

You were supposed to keep up with your act of stubbornness and not go back to your old ways of forgiving him no matter how wrong he did you. Yet, like any toxic relationship, you can't seem to find it in yourself to do that at all.

So here you are now, debauched and ruined in front of your own bedroom mirror. Having been put on display by the same man you were supposed to kick out of your home hours ago, you're busy bouncing up and down a looong expanse of his thick inches as he did nothing more than talk you to filth.

“Y’see this? See what’s all mine?” Sukuna rasps hotly against the sensitive shell of your ear, having one of his thick hands settled neatly onto the curve of your hips as he guides you up and down his swollen shaft with no sense of gentleness whatsoever. His other hand busies itself away with your jaw to keep your head facing the mirror just a few inches away from the edge of the bed where the two of you are sat, “Yeahhh, look how pretty she is taking all that cock. Taking all my cock. Uhuh..”

Your pussy is left swallowing up everything he stuffs up into you, singing out sloppy glistens of wetness and slick every time he hits that spot inside you no one else ever has or could before. All whilst your mouth dangles open, gorgeous strings of moans 'n whimpers gliding out of your throat and filling the air of your bedroom—the same bedroom he'd previously heard you talking to so many other guys in.

You never knew it of course; never knew that he had your entire home bugged from top to bottom, always listening to who you talked to and how you spoke to them. So five years ago, that might've been how he'd heard you call Gojo your best friend but, none of that matters much now. You're exactly where Sukuna has wanted you to be all this time.

“Fucked so stupid on it already,” He grunts at the way you're struggling to keep up your rhythm on top of him. “How cute,” Sukuna adds on cooingly, to which your cunt flexes ever so deliciously around his slobbering length.

Everything's a literal mess now.

You've got your neck plastered in spit and bite marks, all from the man who just swore he had to make sure you and anyone else who dare set their eyes on you after this knew you belonged to someone. The two of you have been at it for hours now and at this point you're hoping the police have long since forgotten about searching for him.

At some point you think you should've gone numb from the pleasure he'd given you but instead it was the exact opposite; you just couldn't get enough!

With the way your walls hugged the fat of his cock so snuggly every time he spoke, he couldn't help but carry out his teasing, “No one else has been in here, huh?” He asked, despite already being quite sure of the answer.

From drooly lips, “N-No, Sukuna,” You hardly manage out, especially with the way the wide crown of his cock is just thrashing up against your cervix, leaving the nastiest of kisses all against it so that you'll never forget the feeling, “Jus’ you.."

He smiles proudly at the sound of that and something in his chest swells dangerously. Hips bucking up faster-, harder to rudely knock up against the same place that's been gushing all over every inch of him for fuck knows how long now, "Really? So you were saving this pussy just for me, hm?”

“No,” You try huffing out. Instead, the short word comes out as more of a moan than anything but, all your syllables had been leaving you like that.

Just a few minutes ago he'd had you spread out over your bed and mumbled apologies into your cunt with nasty swirls of his tongue, inscribing every "sorry" into your walls with searing licks and lathers. It was the only time in all this that he'd gone somewhat quiet and instead let your pussy do the talking.

You hardly grasped what transpired from that to now since you're struggling to take everything he's giving you. Hell, you can barely get yourself to sink all the way down to that dark ink he's got wrapped around his cock, having told you that the tattoo there is—apparently—what you're supposed to be reaching with every thrust.

“Feels like you were,” He husks out thickly in between ragged breaths, grin only enlarging itself out across his slicked face, “Look at how sloppy she is around me,” And just as he says that, you're doing nothing more than watching the way your pussy lips drool so stupidly against the angry veins of his dick. To which he snickers into your ear just to tease you some more, “Such a wet lil' thing.”

You can't even control the way your head flops back somewhere against him, hips growing fatigued by the minute and throat hoarse from your pathetic mewls of pleasure, “Hnngh, S-Sukunaa."

The man only tuts before shaking his head a little to get the sweat-soaked pink locks of hair sticking to his forehead to move a bit, taking in the sight of how slovenly the both of you look right now.

With his lips sticking to the sensitive crest of your ear, he whispers ever so tentatively, “Made s’perfect for me,” A praise that only has you drenching the stretching girth that's tucked heavenly inside you, “Aren’t you?”

“M-Mhmm,” You agree instantly, of course. You think you've forgotten how to and the overall desire to deny him a long time ago from now.

Just then you feel a certain twitch spasming against your honeyed walls, causing a lewd squelch to ring out. Sukuna's breath gets even more breathier as his heavy balls ache for the release he's been saving just for you. “Slut,” He calls, almost as if that were your birth given name. “Look at me,” The same strong hand on your jaw forces your head to turn and your eyes meet his dilated pupils, “Can you feel that? Feel what you do to me? What you’ve been doing to me? Hm?”

Just as he asks you all those dirty questions, you feel him rolling the rest of his cock deeper inside you, trying to make that slathered tattoo disappear all the way past your puffy folds already.

“Yes,” You croak pliantly, earning a mocked pout of his kiss-bitten lips.

“Yeah? How do I feel inside there, huh?” He asks, just to earn a soft whine out of your throat instead of proper response. Then he cocks his brow up, “S’good you can’t answer me properly? Poor thing—here," All. of your breath is ripped out of your lungs as he then moves both of his arms down to swoop under your thighs and lift them up and out. Followed by which is him finding the nerve to stand with you in his hold.

You quickly find yourself in a full nelson before you have the time to break out of your cockdrunken state. The drool from your lips drips out onto the floor with soft, nasty splatters that match what's currently leaking all off of his balls and onto the floor.

Oh, the sight is nothing short of pure filth.

But—naturally—Sukuna's not phased by the change of positions in the slightest, "Tell me if this is better for you.” He taunts.

Better for you? As if. You could feel a tingling sensation thrumming all throughout your legs as they reduced to utter mush in his arms, especially as he starts moving. His thick cock dives in and out of your leaking hole, creating the prettiest sounds of nastiness that reverberate throughout the space around you.

Sukuna spreads you out impossibly wider with his rugged, tattooed arms secured too neatly under the plush of your thighs, having you take him fully now. Your hips feel wobbly whilst he hauls you up and down his cock, leaving you to do nothing but sop up everything he slid so thoroughly into you.

You're gasping when his wiiiide cock lodges so suddenly against your sweetest spot, “Kuna’, c-can’t—mmgh! Fuck! M’gonna cum,” You pant heavily, adding on a cute whine of, “S'too much!”

He's kissing somewhere near your neck now but you're too focused on the feel of his weepy head against where you needed him most to realize. Not until he starts that raspy purring against your hot skin, “Again? You like my cock that much?”

“N-No,” You manage to argue playfully, “I just-, mmnh! I-I like the way you fuck me.”

“Oh really?” He scoffs instantaneously, as if offended for a second. “And yet look at this messy pussy," Sukuna directs, causing your attention to shift down at the way you've left the creamiest mess of release all around that dark ink of his. "Crying alll around the same cock she hates.”

“Ohfuck,” You gape, eyes watering up again when he bites down hard at your neck. Something deep in the pit of your stomach felt as though you were bursting and fuck did it feel good.

So good that you're driven straight into overstimulation for the nth time of the night, all while sobbing and pleading for something—though you're not quite sure what for. It's not like you wanted a break by this point, no, no, you were much more interested in him breaking you.

So why does your body start squirming in his arms all over the place as if to escape him? You've no idea.

“Don’t do that,” Sukuna starts scolding you the moment he catches onto it, arms bulging around your folded body and locking you in place, “Take it, since you like the way I fuck. Take it, every fuckin’ inch—none of these-," His head angles up to lick the streaming teardrops off of your cheeks, "Mmh… sweet-, tears. Awh, look at you trying to run from it. S'this too much for my slutty girl?” He sears into you.

“Sukuna, please,” You beg. For what? You're still unsure but by this point you're unsure about everything. The only thing you can think about is the way he feels inside you.

He's still breaking out that smug smile of his, taunting, “Please what?”

“I-I can’t—“ You don’t even know what you were trying to say with the way your mind blanks and you cream around the thick of his cock yet again.

“Shh, shh, listen to her," Sukuna instructs, letting your gasps and cunt become the loudest things in the room. “Y'Hear that? That’s what good sluts sound like when they get fucked right.” He explains to you, talking into your ear once more just to have you spasming all around him for the millionth time. The baritone in his voice gets impossibly heavier in the next second, “Hah, ready to hear how they get bred?”

In response, all you can do is clench around him and manage a lazy, fucked-out nod of your head.

“Ohhh, you are, huh?” He coos.

“Uhuhh,” You babble, “Please ‘Kuna... N-Need it."

A scratchy grunt tumbles up from his throat, “Need what? Say it for me.”

“Cum inside me,” You say fully and almost perfectly for the first time in hours, “Fuck me full.”

He almost does at the sound alone but for some reason, he feels as though he needed to hold out just a little longer. "S'that what you need?" Sukuna huffs, thrusts entirely uneven now with the way his pearly 'n dawdling cockhead thwacked around your insides with no more direct focus, just feral need. "You need my cum inside you?"

"Yes," You weep delightfully.

Your best friend can only manage another, "Fuck, I've missed you so much." at the sound of that. Then he's spilling every globbing rope of cum inside you. His thrusts punctuating to make sure it takes, "Thought about you every. single. day."

"Sukuna," Your head is turning elsewhere again and for some reason he hates that.

So he's rasping a needy, "Look at me," all over again, swallowing down the terribly plead that nearly jumped out of his throat. Masking the near level of patheticness he'd reached, "Now tell me you love me." he demands instead.

Your mind may be a mush of cockdrunk and fucked-stupid but you still carry that same strength to push his buttons one more time, "F-Fuck you,"

Sukuna groans harshly and turns around with you. One second you're held tightly in his hands and the next he's laying you down on the bed flat with a rough grab on your head just to push it against your bedsheets. The next few moans that leave your throat are broken and muffled as he plows into you in yet another new position—prone bone—and driving his fat cock into every quivering crevice of your cunt.

His free hand presses down against the newfound arch in your spine and his dick feels even thicker inside you somehow. Eyes fluttering, you end up giving in without him having to say anything else, "F-Fuck! I love you, 'Kuna..." You sob into the bed.

He tugs your head up by your hair with a sharp pull, "One more time f'me?"

"Hnngh, I l-love you," You whimper.

He chuckles as if he's aware of something you're not, "Oh, I know you do, sweetheart, I know." Then he's leaning down, wide, muscular body caging yours as he speaks carefully, "You're never gonna send me off like that again, right?"

"Never," You're choking now, his hard tip kissing that spot of yours yet again.

"So obedient," Sukuna comments whilst practically spelling his name out into your cunt, "All I have to do is give you some cock for you to obey my every word, huh?"

You're nodding like some idiotic whore now, "Mhmm.."

"What a slut." He scoffs—as if he isn't into it or something—and then lets his eyes glide down your gorgeously ruined body, "My slut though, isn't that right?"

You don't even try to think before speaking. The words easy fall past your lips in a wispy puff, "All yours S'kuna."

"Juuust as I fuckin' thought," He breathes out in return. And then with one last little snicker, his voice dips to something so quiet that you nearly miss the way he finishes off with a softened, "'Love you too, woman."

tags 1/2:

@2linaaeatsfamilies @scarletmoonshine0 @medusamara5 @needtoloveoutloud @lipstainedgemini

@kaofindj @d43dg1rl @mimiluvzu2 @lululemmington @choso-enthusiast

@brefninanami @stay0802 @chosos-prettyprincess @ersharyzst @blubearxy 

@ravenbc @sugarcoatedsoul @jay4luvsya @melancholic-cow @grignardsreagent 

@littlefuzzybabykitty @designerpvssy @chrysaoraa @noyaswrld @anonimedsk 

@matchaabliss @thiscornerofmyfanficbrain @fishosezo @midnightartist @mattsukitty 

@idkstrawbs @kenney7124 @didibxx @st4ryki @aeminrty 

@ifiwereabug @crispycatt @natasaa13 @broimherebcsimboredok @ellkaysdream

@mandistromboli @pussyeaterleah @theuniversesnepobaby @mollysails @ficrepostblog