g𖦹to

On the other hand, you couldn’t possibly imagine that everything Yuji said about that thing was the truth. To your eyes, it was invisible, but there was a tall, gloomy figure next to the kid, his sleepy eyes slowly opened wide as that question slipped off your tongue, a reaction that made Yuji giggle before responding.

“ Choso is nice ! But he is too shy to talk to others, that’s why you can’t see him. ” 

“ Oooh that’s his name ? Choso ? Well, tell Choso it would be nice to meet him, hope he won’t be shy for long ! ”  

You’ve never been someone easy to scare, but from that night on, nothing has been the same.

It all started with simple coincidences, nothing worth noticing but difficult to ignore in the long term. The first days went smooth, you got to get to know Yuji better, help him with homeworks, cooking him his favourite meals before bed; something began happening the first time he showed you one of his family drawings, well dressed stickmen under a big sun.

“ This is dad, this is me and my brother ! ”  the entire scene felt like something ripped out of a classic horror movie with a haunted house and sensible kids able to see something that parents couldn’t see until it was too late. The figure next to drawn-Yuji was way taller than both of them, it seemed to be wearing a very long black robe fully covering his body, spikes coming out his head.

“ He’s almost as handsome as you, little tiger. ”  after jokingly scruffing up his pink hair, you leaned your face down towards the paper when, all of the sudden, you felt a huff of icing cold hair behind your neck. You couldn't help but react instinctively, covering the nape of your neck with your hand before straightening up your back and look behind you. Nothing, of course.

“ Choso don’t be rude ! ”  all you saw was an open window behind you, and Yuji’s voice brought you back to the reality you had lost attachment to for a slip second. With a small smile curling up your lips, you stood up and went to close the window, looking up at the clock on the wall.

“ Don’t worry Yuji, I’m sure he just wanted to get a better look at your drawing. ”  of course it was nothing more than the chilling autumnal breeze. “ ready to go to bed ?  ”  lucky you, Yuji was never difficult to deal with, the most well behaved child you’ve ever met, even if he seemed to have energy to stay awake for days on end. 

After tucking him in bed, you went straight back to the living room : you closed every window, cleaned up all the dishes, markers and papers scattered around the coffee table, until you could finally sit down and cozily curl up into a fluffy duvet. It was still early for you, and Mr Itadori had a long night shift at work. 

A new horror film popped up on the screen, something about a family being haunted by a spirit. How ironic.

Days, weeks passed.

Your experience as Yuji’s babysitter went great, spending a lot of time together almost as if you were becoming some kind of older sister to him; Yuji wanted you to meet his friends, baby Megumi and Nobara were such cuties, you even offered to chaperon all of them during some playdates. It was then when some more peculiarities began to happen more frequently.

First of all, every time you went to those playdates, you began to feel an incredibly cold sensation coming from your back. Every, single, time, but it didn’t pick much on your scepticism, given the fact that it was almost fully winter by then. At home, objects seemed to shift on their own in places where they were not supposed to be. 

Vases shifting on their surfaces, folded clothes that you personally had put on the coffee table that, when you left for a moment to answer the phone, were suddenly on the sofa. You did not believe in ghosts but holy, things were getting weird.

“ ..Choso is not a bad guy, y\n. Please don’t go away.  ”  as you were tucking Yuji in bed for the night, his words hit directly to your heart, tender with this little boy’s sweetness.

“ Don’t worry, little tiger, I will stay. ”  your palms stroking his soft strands of hair when a spark of clarity shooted through your brain : why did he say that ? Did he know something about the strange things happening around the house ? –   Oh my god, I’m getting paranoid.  “ Dream about something nice, alright ? Don’t let bad thoughts trouble you. ”

What the fuck was happening ?

…

Today’s been a long day, you had to study for your own exams and helped Yuji with his never ending homeworks. Is it normal for elementary school to give this much homework ? Your mind is so tired, to the point you think you’re actually hallucinating as, while cooking dinner, you seem incapable of finding the cloth you swear you just placed on the kitchen counter next to you. Your eyes finally catch it, and you could swear it is moving on it’s own sliding away from you. No hand moving it, not a huff of hair strong enough to do something like this.

You can’t understand whether it’s for tiredness or because you’re scared to death, but your hand abruptly grabs it and shove it on your shoulder, heart pumping so fast you quickly fill a glass of water and chug on it.

I’m just stressed, I need to eat and take a nice shower. That’s all.

Oh, you couldn’t be more wrong.

Maybe it’s your stubbornness mixed with the hot shower’s steam clouding up the bathroom that’s convincing you that everything’s alright now, nerves no longer brushing against your skin making you all tense; the small droplets running down your body help with giving  you some sense of relaxation, together with the softness of the towel wrapped around your naked body. 

You let down your hair from the hairpin’s grip, slightly swaying the soft strands side to side to let them loose, your eyes still closed as you take in a deep breath. Who would have thought that that would have been your worst  mistake ? As you use another towel to dry away the sheer stratification of humidity from the mirror - which was making the surface all blurry - next to your reflection, you suddenly catch a blood chilling figure right behind you. 

Whatever noise was supposed to come out your mouth gets stuck into your throat, eyes wide open with terror while your skin becomes a couple of shades lighter the more you look at it.

“ – it’s just.. no, this is just.. an hallucination. ”  one step, two, but at the third one, as you go backwards, back collides with something sturdy and inhumanly cold.

“ why ? ” you don’t move. You can’t. The figure’s reflection hasn’t disappeared yet, and the voice brushing right against the outer shell of your ear makes it impossible for your conviction  of being hallucinating  to stay solid. You do your best to swallow down the huge knot that’s tying your vocal chords, but never has something felt so difficult.

The voice sounds distorted, polyphonic even, it seems like it’s your entire body that’s listening to it, that he is talking right to your very spirit; there’s not much you're able to do other than never leaving it’s reflection from the mirror, silently observing how Choso actually looks like. Turns out that Yuji’s quite capable of depicting his brother, who’s wearing that exactly black robe - traditional clothes you’d say, something truly antiquated - the black line tracing the center of his face side to side turns out it actually looks like it is bleeding something .. thick, something you truly don’t want to find out what it is … or do you ? 

The tip of your tongue suddenly feels like tingling at the thought, but it’s when you finally set your eyes onto his that you realize there’s something truly wrong with you. They look sleepy, haunted, pitch black pupils so large they almost cover every trace of white in it, looking downwards straight at you.

“ why are you not scared ? ” Choso doesn’t fail to give you chills exactly like the first time, fist gripping the towel so tight your knuckles are turning fully white.

“ you’re .. you’re not real.  ” still not able to turn around and face whatever is behind you, you finally manage to speak, trying whatever you can to gain back the last bits of your sanity. Fool. 

In the blink of an eye, the creature is right in front of you, leaning his face down, down at a mere palm from yours, trying to stare into your soul through your eyes. Black strands fall down his forehead like thin spikes, contrasting so much with the alabaster shade of his skin, just like the like on his nose, which you notice it’s starting to elongate a little through the cheeks.

“ you know I am. ” his lips stay flat despite the tone of his voice now resembling a scraping screech, those eyes of his being just a moment ago heavy lidded, are now fully open, observing your face with a creepy accuracy, almost as if he’s looking for something in your expression. “ do you.. think I’m handsome ? ” 

A pop of color finally appears on your skin, a sheer pink coloring up your cheeks hearing that question. 

So he was actually there the whole time.

“ yes – ” unlucky for you, the pain you feel after slapping both your hands on your mouth is way too bland to distract your mind from the unholy thoughts it is forming. 

“ yes ? oh, you are a strange one. ”  so tall, so broad, so.. fucking hot. It’s like one of your deepest fantasy just became reality, but the monstrous nature of it makes it almost impossible for you to understand what your body is telling you : are you supposed to run and never come back in this place, hoping not to end up in a psychiatric hospital, or to realize that the dampness in between your leg is not a product from the shower ? 

His eyebrows suddenly furrow, the distance between you dissolves into nothing as he almost beauties his nose into your collarbone. Choso emanates such a cold energy, your body gets immediately covered with goosebumps, and your nipples so perky their shape become visible though the fabric of the towel that’s barely hanging on your body by now. 

There’s not a single word you can think of as he slowly brushes the tip of his nose along your skin, confusion contorting his face as much as yours, since you do not understand what's happening. You even just got out of the shower for god’s sake !

“ you’ve got a strange smell on you, y\n.  ” just like this, hearing your name pronounced by his distorted, but somehow softer voice,  the need to brush your tights against one another becomes impossible to ignore, embarrassment making your body tingle and step back, only for you to hit the wall. That’s when it hits him, a careful observer for being a ghost . “ is it arousal ? ”

“ what ? no –  no ! Absolutely not.  ” and who, exactly, are you trying to fool ? Acting as if your entire body isn't asking for whatever that creature is to touch it; it recognizes the presence that’s been haunting you lately while you were taking care of Yuji, the lingering cold sensation behind your neck when you brought the kid to the park, or when you tucked him in bed. 

Your skin remembers it, and now, it’s craving it.

Choso steps closer, as if he has not even the slightest clue about what personal space is, his fingers slowly curl around the knot that’s keeping the towel on your body.

“ do you want me to please you ? ”

A loud crash makes your head turn immediately to the side, and just like that, you wake up in your fully dark bedroom, the window shudders wide open because of a strong huff of wind. Why are you in your room ? How ? Your head spins like from a hangover, you look around and there’s nothing strange, your body still wrapped around you. 

I was so tired that I collapsed, that’s all.

After properly closing the window, you fall back on the bed, eyes looking at the ceiling when those sensation’s memories hit directly your skin : it’s almost as if you can feel the tip of that ghost’s nose brushing against your neck, and you can’t help but envy that version of your dream who got to directly experience that. Because it was a dream, right ? 

The strangest thing of all is that it felt so real, it's obvious that the whole Choso situation with Yuji is sticking to you after all this time, but it’s not the first time you have a wet dream about some supernatural creature or a horror’s villain. Nonetheless, the frustration is hitting your need for pleasure hard, so it’s only natural for your fingers to reach down between your tights.

Untying the towel once and for all, as the fingertips find your throbbing clit, you pinch one of your nipples just enough to make yourself whimper –   his name.

“ Oh God, Choso, right there ..  ” your voice soft, inner tights getting wetter and wetter as you build up the pleasure you wish it was him giving you, with closed eyes  you imagine his fingers touching you, his broad figure hovering over you as his eyes drink your pleasure expression in.

What your mind can’t even conceive, is the fact that not only Choso is real, but he is in the room with you,  hiding in that particularly dark corner right in front of your bed. His tall figure perfectly merges with the absolute absence of light, admiring your body reacting to the pleasure you’re feeling thinking about him.

After you passed out in the bathroom, Choso thought he finally managed to scare you once and for all to the point of convincing you to go away and leave him alone with Yuji’s full attention; yes, he’s been jealous of you since you firstly came, the way his little brother couldn’t stop talking about you made him angrier every time he saw you coming back to his house, despite his tentatives to scare you away. They always worked with other babysitters, why not with you ? Choso sensed something was different with you the first time he heard you asking if he was cute, but never had he imagined you had such a .. attraction for something like him.

It is not the first time he observes you from your own room, he got curious with time, but never has he seen you do something like this. Maybe this is the reason he can’t take his haunted eyes off of your sopping wet pussy, or maybe it’s because of the unbearable urge to touch it. To taste it –    to feel it. He is so used to you being asleep, that he doesn’t think before stepping out of the corner, his steps not making a single sound of course.

“ so you do want me to please you. ”

On the other hand, you are so caught up in your own pleasure, eyes shut while you try to remember every single detail about him, that you’re convinced you’re imagining his voice.

“ touch me- pleeeease touch me. ” your words are a mere whisper brushing against your own lips.

It sounds like enough for him to get closer, and closer, as a haunting spirit he is, until you sense the bed sinking under something’s weight. 

You finally open your eyes, pulled away from your fantasy.

Your mouth immediately opens up to let out a scream Choso doesn’t let come out by putting his hand on it.

Oh I’m soooo fucked.

He’s silent, head slightly tilted to the side trying to understand your reaction, given the way you were begging him just a moment before for him to touch you in such a scandalous manner. Then, the same smell as before hits him, way stronger this time, and his eyes slowly fall onto the hand you were using to give yourself pleasure. Choso wraps his fingers around your wrist, under your attentive gaze, he slowly brings your hand towards him, letting your wet fingertips brush against his lips.

Your heart pumps so fast into your chest you can feel the rhythm into your eardrums, watching a haunting entity taste your pleasure : the tip of his tongue swipes against the few stains on his lips, before sliding your fingertips into his mouth, gently sucking on it with, what it seems, a crescent greediness. 

“ I want more. ” His touch is way more gentle than what you could ever expect from whatever Choso is, those droopy eyes of his set on your face as he sets both your mouth and your wrist free. Your supposition about him becoming particularly interested in your body slowly takes form into his gestures, his body sliding down the mattress until he’s facing your ridiculously wet folds.

Your intentions get more wicked every moment Choso spends looking at you, making you spread your legs a little bit more, silently giving him all the access he needs to get what he wants,

What both of you so desperately want. 

His mouth is cold against the tender flesh of your center, latching his lips onto your sensible button and hollowing his cheeks creating a suction so sudden that makes your head sink into the pillows, your hands immediately finding grip onto his hair.

Is it actually happening ? You’re getting eaten out by a .. spirit ? Demon ? whatever Choso is, he’s making your whole body tremble with so much pleasure, your eyes are already starting to tear up from the stimulation. You barely manage to open them, feeling the urge to look with your own eyes at what he is doing, and oh –   the black line cutting on his nose is bleeding.

Black streaks falling down his cheeks like pitch black tears, his lids fallen closed as his eyebrows are furrowed than ever, but the best of all are the his whimpers mixed with the wet sounds of his mouth making out with your sopping wet pussy. 

“ fffffuck Choso ‘m gonna cum–   gonna cum  gonna cum gonna cum ! ”  you’ll thank god later for your room being downstairs, meaning that Yuji could not possibly hear you anyways, because his big brother is revealing himself to be capable of making you a moaning mess by just a few wipes of his incredibly skilled tongue.

White spots hit your vision together with an orgasm so intense, you didn’t even realize how desperately you were tugging at his hair; now, that he’s slowly getting up, you notice his now free, long black strands falling down to his shoulders, making him even more hauntingly attractive than he was before.

“ I liked it, I want to give you more. ” right before he could bury his face once more between your thighs, you miraculously manage to stop him by holding his face with both your hands, a small chuckle filling up your chest in response to his instinctive drive. 

“ easy on that, handsome ghost, ” you sit up despite the wobbly tights, freeing his cheeks from your hands, only to carefully wrap your fingers around the hems of both sides of his outer robe. “ would you like me to make you feel as good as you did to me ? ” the bold move you could have never imagined yourself doing, trying to undress an ancient spirit out of pure lust.

“ me ? ” the genuine confusion on his face makes him appear so pretty to your eyes, letting you fully undress him from both the robe and the under robe, exposing a perfectly sculpted torso that leaves you out of words for a moment or two, almost fully distracting you from what he says. “ I don’t know if a Yokai can feel it. ”   

Maybe undressing his was the smartest move you could pull, because as your absolutely starstruck eyes gaze down his torso, fingertips delicately tracing the curves, you notice his hakama pants tenting up. A lot.  

“ so that’s what you are, mh ? It must be so intense .. ”  your voice honeyed with intention, while your fingers work their way down to his bulge, carefully wrapping around it to give it a gentle squeeze, just to taste the waters. “ have you never been touched ? ”

“ n-no.. I’m too —  nggh! monstrous ” the definitive proof that this Yokai is a mourning virgin  it’s not just the whimpers sliding off of his mouth, but the way his black mark keeps bleeding more and more. You can’t help but bite down your own lower lip and squeeze a little bit more around his growing hard on.

“ monstrous ? Nonsense, ” you can feel him tense under your touch, even more when your fingers begin to undo his pants, under his begging eyes, which Choso tries to cover with a hand on his face for the .. embarrassment ? There could rise a debate on who’s the true monster now between the two of you, given the way you’d devour him if natures were switched. “ you are captivating, Choso. And incredibly talented with your tongue. ” 

The sight of his cock being finally freed from his clothing’s constriction becomes the only thing capable of catching your attention. There’s some think purple veins tracing his V line reaching the base, a couple of them spreading along the discreetly long shaft; but it’s the thickness that makes your mouth water, the mushroomy tip already leaking some precum because of your hand. 

The temptation is way stronger than your ability to resist. You fall on all fours, the bed slightly creaking under your movements as your lips reached for his glistening tip, licking away some of those precum beads. A low, shattered cry fills Choso’s chest at the warmth of your lips, now fully wrapping around his tip, sucking it gently enough to let him get used to the sensation. 

There’s a cold sensation filling up your mouth, almost as if you were sucking on a popsicle, you sprawl out your mouth wide inch by inch you take in, until it reaches the back of your throat. The more he moans, holding onto your hair as he begins to almost crawl into himself, incapable of managing the waves of pleasure, the more you’re getting wet. Oh, you’re already a mess, your juices wetting your thighs. 

“ ‘s too much— does .. aaah! does it — always feel like this ? ”  his question sounds so genuine you feel devilish about the level of list that’s guiding your actions as much as your mind, now fully blown away by the fact that you are, indeed, sucking a spirit off. After lulling your tongue out of your mouth, swiping away the drooling mess you’ve made around him, a wicked smile curles up your lips, as you stand your torso back up to face him. Well, almost. 

He’s a really tall Yokai, the most you manage to reach is his sternum, looking up at him, the face of someone who’s barely holding it together. But is it going to stop you ? 

You’re definitely the one who should be in hell for the way you hold his cheeks with both your hands, lowering his face towards yours, enough to put your lips on his. The kiss is slow at first, not at all rushed, especially because of how still Choso is at first; you begin to move your lips, guiding him until he does the same, soft whimpers shattering between your mouths as the kiss develops into something sloppier. You yourself said that he’s a talent with his tongue, nonetheless it surprised you how much he tries to entangle it with yours, lips slicking and sliding against one another.

“ want me to make it feel even better, mh ? ” the contact stops when you let your mouth slide to the corner of his, then to his jaw, until you reach that specific point under his ear. “ want to know how does it feel to be inside me ? ” one last bite to his lobe, and you’re back at looking him in the eyes. Yours lighted up by a sparkle that matches his, deep curiosity on both ends, the unbearable need to give in to it. 

He nods, almost as if you sucked his voice out of him through his cock and now, biting your lips, lids heavy with the nastiest intentions, you grab his hand and guide him on the bed, between your legs. Hovering over your naked body with his, you can feel his tip brushing against your clit, the sensation makes you gasp a little, already greedy for more. 

“ but I don’t .. know how to do it. ” Choso surely feels a bit clumsy, his body rigid on yours since he clearly doesn’t have any idea of what to do. Despite the nature of the moment, you can’t help but find him incredibly sweet, it’s most certainly the first time you do it with a virgin. 

A virgin Yokai.. I’ve officially gone insane.

“ don’t worry Cho, let me take care of you. ”  with your hand you reach for his throbbing shaft, which you can feel twitching against your palm, then, against your slick hole impatient for a taste of his ghostly vigor. The tension Choso released from his muscles comes back the exact moment his tip slides in, a single taste of your velvety rings sucking him in turns out it’s enough to make him hide his face into your collarbone. “ gooood boy, just like that. ”

The deeper he slides in, the more delicious it feels to be stretched out by his thickness, his vein’s textures brushing against your weak spot right after his plump tip, ripping a moan out of your chest before he’s fully inside. Both your hands now find his upper body, one holding onto Choso’s strong back and the other entailing with the long black strands behind his neck; his cold breath shatters against your flush skin, and if he had a functioning heart, you know you’d feel it thumping against your own chest.

“ sssooo good so damn  good –  you’re so tight y\n.. ” the polyphonic tone of his words reach your ears even more shattered than before, dragging words with the weight of a pleasure he’d never felt in a span of time you couldn’t even conceive. Choso finds the strength to hold his bodyweight onto his forearm pressed on the mattress near your face, his lids so heavy he’s barely keeping them open to look at your spit slicked lips and flushed cheeks.  “ can I move ? please, pleeeease let me. ” 

“ of c-course Choso, go on.. want you deep inside me –  ”  it is your luck that he needs a moment to adjust and find his own rhythm, nonetheless, the feeling of his rock hard cock dragging over every ridge inside you drives you insane already, the memory of your previous orgasm imprinted very lively into your body. 

And just like a puppy in rut, his hips begin to snap against yours, slamming fast and sloppy, chasing after something he’s way too desperate to experience on his own skin. This makes both of your similar, ina certain way : a human eager to being fucked by something supernatural, reaching for a level of pleasure no other man could bring you to, and a yokai, bound to an eternal mourning state, so desperate to feel something as intense as his sns of isolation.

It will be something interesting to think about in the future, when Choso will no longer be folding your body into a nasty mating press, ice cold hands hooking behind your knees pulling his cock all the way to the hilt, head smooching your womb as a claim. 

“ I’m.. I feel something, ”  Choso is properly crying out his words by now, the black line on his face, now wide enough to “cut” it in a perfect half, is bleeding so much it is starting to run down his neck and torso. “ nnngghh!  it’s so intense ! ” 

“ d-don’t hold back Cho –  fuck me faster baby, come on ! ”  your body was already on the verge of giving up under his hips frantic slams, and it was probably the way you started clenching around him that he’s fully losing his mind. It is a true sight you mark into your brain before you can realize, mushy and sloppy on a bed that seems about to give up under Choso’s neediness.

His torso falls onto yours once more, knees digging into the mattress as he suddenly lifts you to make your thighs straddle him, his arms wrapping so tight around your hips you know it’s going to mark you with bruises. You anchor your arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as Choso hammers his cock so deep inside you, you’d swear he’s past your cervix. 

Bright red marks get traced by your nails digging into his back muscles, the sound of wet bodies clapping against each other getting loud –  you’d notice it and beg whoever in the sky to not let Yuji wake up to the noise, if only your brain wasn't all mushed up by Choso’s pummeling head inside you, a creamy ring forming around his base, your ass cheeks getting all red and bruised each time his balls slam against them.

“ I’m cu- fuuuuck I’m cumming – ”  your mouth can no longer be used to form whatever word, your lips being shaped as a “o” and your tongue numb, even your eyes are rolled all the way back. The only logic thing you manage to do is biting down at Choso’s shoulder to suffocate the incredibly loud moan as soon as the orgasm shatters through your body like a furious thunder.

Choso stutterers a couple of thrusts more as he releases himself inside your throbbing cunt, liquids gushing out of you and directly on his tights and mattress. None of you speak, none of you dares to move, drained out of energy, the same that’s now drenching the sheets probably. 

Your bodies feel glued together when you firstly try to fall back on the bed, still straddling his thighs, yous feeling too bruised to keep that position. 

“ are you.. altright, Cho ? ”   a small smile appears on your reddened lips, admiring the mess you both made of each other : his alabaster skin is shiny with what looks like some kind of sweat - can yokai actually do it ? - the ridges of his torso filled with whatever substance kept bleeding out of his face, some pitch black strands sticking to his forehead before he brushed them away with his hand.

Choso doesn’t answer at first, observing you with a heavy chest slowly moving up and down, until he begins to crawl at you. Like a predator. The color of his eyes it’s not fully black, and on his lips ? A devilish grin that makes your skin itch with spookiness.

With his face at a palm to yours, he simply says.

The same one, who you could hear from two alleys away, running your way with another stupid thing you wouldn't agree to buy.

"Baby, my sweet baby, can we buy–" but before Gojo could finish, he noticed another man standing next to you. Too close.

His demeanour? Changed. As if touched by a magic wound.

Face turned serious, muscular back strengthened, as he walked your way slowly, predatory, with one hand gripping the bag of XXL marshmallows and the other curling around your waist.

"Hello," he mumbled, looking at the stranger from above as, of course, no one in this supermarket was as tall as him.

And also as funny, handsome, strong, smart, with the biggest di–

"Satoru, meet Ino. He was my first boyfriend at the university," you giggled and Gojo tightened his grip on your waist.

Why was this pathetic man making you laugh?

"Ino, please meet my–"

"Husband."

You glanced up, seeing a completly serious, almost stony expression on Satoru's face.

"Oh, I didn't know you were married!" Ino said, gripping Satoru's extended hand.

His face twisted in a slight grimace, feeling the definitely too strong grip of your... husband?

"Yes, I also didn't know," you mumbled to yourself, quite enough to not let them hear you.

"Gojo Satoru, nice to meet you," his voice was polite, but hand still clutched on poor Ino's palm.

You jabbed him with an elbow because taking your ex-boyfriend to an ER with broken fingers was the last thing you wanted to do on a Saturday evening.

Ino cracked an awkward laugh, massaging his fingers.

"Gojo as in–"

"Gojo Corporations. Yes, the biggest media outlet in Japan."

Oh my fucking god.

"That's really nice," Ino cracked an awkward laugh, looking back your way. "Well, maybe we'll see each other more often. I've noticed this neighbourhood is full of young married couples with children, so–"

"We have two."

Both you and Ino shuddered. You, because your fucking fiancé was getting ahead of himself, Ino, because he honestly started to feel threatened. Well, it was true that you were trying for a baby (started exactly a week ago), but you weren't mad enough to already have two at the age of twenty-eight.

"Satoru, what are you–"

Before you could finish, Gojo's hand moved down your belly. "Third on a way."

Oh, he must've been joking.

You looked pleadingly, prayerfully at Ino, trying to say please just go already, but he just tilted his head, eyes moving over your body.

"Oh three that's... already quite a lot–"

"Yeah, but you know how it is," Satoru's ocean eyes dropped down to your fuming, absolutely furious face, before he cracked a grin. "I just can't keep her off my di–"

"Well, Ino, thank you for saying hi," you quickly interrupted, jabbing his abs with an elbow once again. But this time, making sure it would leave a nasty bruise. "I'm sure we can catch up another day."

He nodded politely, glancing up at Satoru's painfully twisted face.

"My wife and I just moved in, so I'm sure she'll be more than happy to make some friends," Ino said, scratching the back of his head. "Actually, she's also pregnant, so maybe you could, well, give her some tips. It's our first child, and we're both pretty stressed."

You slowly glanced back at Satoru, and he shuddered at the murderous gaze you washed him with. "Yes, sure, as a mother of three, I may have some advice."

And on the same evening, Gojo was pounding you. Pounding, in every raw, maddening, nasty meaning of this word, with knees welded to your chest and his cock thrusting all the way up to your womb.

He had you folded in half, ass up, saliva dripping down your chin, his cocky grin never leaving your feverish cheeks.

"Oh fuuuuck, baby, you're gripping me so tight, ahhh–" a deep groan rolled from his throat, hips moving in synch with your shallow breaths.

Nothing but squelch, squelch, squelch of your drenched cunt and sweet, slippery moans filled the foggy bedroom.

"Swallowing me like a slut, milking fucking dry," he chortled, one hand going down to your puffy folds and spreading them nicely with two fingers. He smiled, looking at your fluttering cunt swallowing his girthy cock, with a creamy ring forming around the cherry-flushed hole, and a sweet clit trembling under his thumb. "My sweet baby, love to see you stuffed full. Fuck, can't wait to fill you up, breed you like a good fucking slut, my wifey hehe–"

"Nghh s-shut up! You've embarrassed me today so much! You– ahhhh," words stuck in your throat, when he rolled your clit between his fingers. "Fuckfuckfuck, Satoru, fuck, so good, mghmmm."

"Mmm, good, right? You feel sooo goood, baby, getting fucked by my cock, being bred by my cum," he started to thrust faster, deeper, ravaging your pulsing walls, pushing his shaft till its head nuzzled warmly against your cervix. "Fuck, can't wait to see you fat and pregnant. My sweet mama jumping on my cock, fucking hell," he shuddered.

"S-stop treating me like I'm fucking breeding cow," you cried, feeling an orgasm slowly building up in your jammed lower belly.

His thumb rolled your clit, cock pushed deeper and harsher than ever, as if he wanted to make sure that the next burst would go straight into your womb. And after it, he would lift your hips for at least five minutes, making sure that not even a drop would leak out from your creamy cunt.

"What do you mean? I don't see any of my calves running around. But give me time and we'll gonna fill a fucking barn."

Oh, he was so disgustingly, obnoxiously filthy, with this arrogant grin, muscular shoulder and smooth skin swirling with droplets. You clamped on his cock, and he hissed, throwing his head back.

"Fuck I'm gonna be such a good daddy. I promise, fuckfuckfuck," his thrusts became messier, sloppier, cock brusing your cervix with mean, sticky precum. "You gonna call me daddy? Hm? I can be your daddy too, you know?"

"S-shut up and make me–nghhh–cum!"

And a second later – he finally stilled. A low groan rolled from the deepest parts of his lungs, hands pressed your thighs even meaner, till your ass fully lifted off the bed and stuck to his heavy balls. He was pumping you like a fucking animal, with thick, heavy ropes filling your womb, sticking like a spider's net and glueing your hole shut.

You shuddered, spasmed, came all over his abdomen and cock, drenching the freshly changed sheets of your bedding.

Oh he's gonna be the one to change them again!

He breathed heavily, still stuffing you full, although his cock started to slowly soften.

There was a moment of silence, before you've noticed another stupid idea coiling in his mind.

"I've heard the better the orgasm, the higher the chance of getting pregnant."

You scoffed, nevertheless going for the second round, and third, and fourth, till your belly overflowed with a cum, and Satoru finally lay down on your chest with a satisfied hum.

for someone who doesn’t want to be a mother I tend to write a lot of breeding kink fics…….

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toji towers over you the same as always—broad shoulders blocking out half the sky, scarred forearms bracketing you like a fortress. at six months pregnant, you still feel small against him, just the way you did the first time he lifted you clean off your feet in a moonlit alley and carried you toward freedom.

toji huffs a laugh and the sound vibrates through you. “trouble’s already here. married it. gave it my last name and everythin’.”

you reach up and thread your fingers through the dark hair at his nape. he lets it grow longer out here. no more sharp cuts, just soft black strands that curl against his collar when he forgets to tie them back.

you tug lightly, “you’re the one who keeps checking the ridge line every sunset like you expect a posse.”

“old habits,” toji shrugs. one massive hand slides forward, covering yours where it rests on your stomach. his palm swallows both your hand and part of the curve of your belly, “new ones too.”

the baby rolls under the pressure, a slow, lazy somersault that makes you suck in a breath. toji goes still.

“again?” he murmurs.

you nod, “she likes your voice.”

toji lets out a low disbelieving sound. like he still can’t quite believe anything this soft belongs to him. slowly and carefully, he turns you in his arms until you face him. even on the raised porch you have to tip your head way back to meet his green eyes. those eyes that still carry that dangerous glint when he looks at the rest of the world—but never at you.

not anymore.

toji sinks to one knee without warning, bringing his face level with your stomach. one scarred hand splays wide over the swell, thumb brushing back and forth like he’s petting something wild and precious.

“hey, little terror,” he says, deep voice pitched softer than you’ve ever heard it in the old days, “you plannin’ to keep kickin’ yer mama all night, or ye gonna let her sleep?”

another kick—harder this time. right against his palm.

toji’s mouth curves, slow and crooked. “yeah. that’s what i figured.”

he leans in and presses his lips to the taut skin just above your navel through the thin cotton of your dress. a kiss so gentle it barely stirs the fabric. then another. and another. like he’s counting blessings he still doesn’t think he deserves.

you comb your fingers through his hair again, holding him there, “you’re gonna spoil her rotten before she’s even born.”

“damn right.” he doesn’t look up, just rests his forehead against you, eyes closing. “gotta make up for all the years i spent bein’ the worst kind of man.”

the wind moves through the cottonwoods, carrying the scent of dry grass and distant rain. somewhere in the pasture one of the horses nickers. ordinary sounds. safe sounds. so unlike the ones you’ve been used to hearing ever since a year ago.

you bend as far as your changing center allows and kiss the top of his head. a small gesture back.

“you’re not that man anymore,” you whisper.

toji exhales. when he finally stands he pulls you against him—careful, always careful now—chin resting on your crown.

“maybe not,” he murmurs, the words vibrating against your scalp. “but i’ve got enough scars and enough stubborn left to make damn sure nothin’ ever touches either of ya. and enough sense now to know that’s all i want.”

you tilt your face up. your cheek slides against the worn flannel of his shirt until you can press a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“awww, my big, scary rancher,” you giggle, letting the tease curl warm between you.

toji lets out a rough chuckle, amused at the way you always know just what to say to tease him, “mhm. scary’s still on the table if anyone comes lookin’.”

his free hand drifts down, palm flattening over the curve of your belly again. his thumb sweeps in lazy, protective arcs. the baby answers with a quick flutter, like she’s agreeing.

toji’s low voice drops even quieter, “you two are the only soft thing i’ve ever been allowed to keep. ain’t lettin’ the world or anyone take that away.”

you slip both arms around his waist as far as they’ll go and squeeze, “then keep holding on tight. we’re not going anywhere.”

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ emperor!sukuna who has a habit of touching the small of your back. just a hand, warm and heavy, settling there when he passes you in the halls or stands beside you at court. it's not possessive—well, it is possessive (not that he'd ever admit it), but that's not the point. the first time he did it, you practically jumped out of your skin. now? now you lean into it slightly, just a fraction, and he pretends not to notice the way your shoulders relax under his palm.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ emperor!sukuna who says "come here, little one." that's all he says, voice low and rough, and you're already moving toward him before your brain catches up. you hate how your body obeys him so easily. you hate the way your heart stutters when he calls you that. but most of all, you hate that he knows, you can see it in the way his lips curl up just slightly under the palace lights, when you settle next to him, one of his four arms snaking around your waist and resting on your hip.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ emperor!sukuna who likes spoils you with lavish gifts. it first starts with small boxes filled with hairpins. they were delicate and intricate, jade and pearl and something that looks suspiciously like diamonds scattered across their length.  others were shaped with flowers on the head of the pin, dusted with gold and glitter. another box holds earrings that make your ears feel unworthy. a necklace with a rose quartz the size of your thumbnail rests in the last one, glimmering against your skin. soon they gifts became more extravagant to the point that a chest arrives at your chambers, carried by two servants who struggle under its weight. inside: silk. mountains of it. rolls of fabric so fine they slip through your fingers like water, in colors you didn't even know existed: sunset oranges, deep crimsons, gold that catches the light and holds it hostage.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ emperor!sukuna who doesn't give gifts for gratitude, he gives them to see. he wants to watch the silk drape across your shoulders, wants to see the way light dances off the gems at your throat and ears, wants to watch the hairpins adorn your beautiful locks. one evening, he summons you to his chambers and you come dressed in the softest pink silk he sent, the rose quartz necklace resting against your collarbone. he doesn't speak for a long moment, just looks at you with those ancient, unreadable eyes. then he's crossing the room in two strides, one hand softly weaving into your hair, tilting your head back. "this," he says placing one of his hands on your waist, fingers digging into the soft silk, "looks better here than it did in the box." his other hand finds your waist, pulling you flush against him. "but i'm starting to think it'd look even better on the floor." you don't wear those pink silks for a week after. not because you didn't like them, but because every time you try, your face burns too hot to leave your chambers.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ emperor!sukuna who's other concubines despise you. you're quiet, you're shy, you don't scheme or claw your way to his attention, and somehow that makes you his favorite anyway. they have been forgotten and replaced by the timid peasant village girl.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ emperor!sukuna who doesn't ask for things. he takes. so when he starts keeping you in his chambers at night, just sleeping, just your small form curled beside his massive one, it's not a request. but, he notices the way you burrow closer when the palace grows cold, the way your fingers curl in his sleeping robes like you're afraid he'll disappear. and one night, when you whimper softly in your sleep (a nightmare, probably about the chains, about the village that gave you up, he would have to make sure that the village was adequately punished for their deeds), he pulls you against his chest and rumbles something unintelligible against your hair. you don't wake. but you stop trembling.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ emperor!sukuna who has you sit on his lap during meetings. it happens mid-meeting. you're standing in your usual spot behind his throne, trying to be invisible, when his lower right hand reaches back and curls around your wrist. before you can process what's happening, you're being tugged forward and down, deposited unceremoniously onto his thigh like you weigh nothing. his upper arms continue holding his brush, signing documents like this is perfectly normal. his lower hands settle on your waist—one splayed across your hip, the other resting just below your ribs, thumbs pressing gently into the silk covering your stomach.

the entire court stares at him in shock. you stare at the floor, certain you're about to combust.

"continue," sukuna says flatly, and the meeting resumes as if the emperor doesn't currently have a trembling concubine in his lap. you sit frozen, barely breathing, hyperaware of the heat of him beneath you and the weight of his hands on your waist. occasionally, his thumbs move small, idle circles against the silk and you have to bite your lip to stay silent.

after that first time, it becomes routine. any meeting, any audience, any time he wants you nearby, you end up in his lap. his lower hands find your waist automatically now, like they belong there. sometimes he'll pull you closer during a particularly boring report, tucking you against his chest while his upper arms handle business. sometimes his thumbs trace patterns on your hips that have nothing to do with patience, circles that get slower, deeper, until you're squirming just slightly and he has to tighten his grip to keep you still. "behave," he'll murmur against your hair, but there's a smirk in his voice that makes your stomach flip.

and sometimes, when someone says something particularly stupid, you feel his grip tighten on your waist, crinkling into the newly bought silks he bought for you, before he destroys them with words alone.

you've stopped trying to hide your burning face. it's useless anyway.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ emperor!sukuna who one time, during a particularly long council meeting, his lower hands started wandering. just slightly, one sliding up your ribcage, thumb brushing the underside of your breast through the silk. you made a sound. a tiny, embarrassing sound that you immediately tried to cover with a cough. sukuna's upper hands didn't even pause in their writing, but his lower ones squeezed, a warning, a promise, a later, and you spent the rest of the meeting trying to remember how to breathe normally.

that night, you understood exactly what "later" exactly meant.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ emperor!sukuna who another time, he had you sit facing him. on his lap. in front of the entire court. your legs on either side of his thighs, your face buried in his neck because you couldn't look anyone in the eye. and also because if you looked down, you'd see exactly how much he was enjoying having you this close. his lower hands rested on your hips, fingers occasionally dipping just beneath the hem of your robes to trace circles on bare skin. his upper hands continued running the kingdom like nothing was happening.

you didn't hear a single word of that meeting. you were too busy trying not to make any sounds that would give you away. afterward, in his chambers, he told you exactly how proud he was of you for being so quiet. then he made sure you weren't quiet at all.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ emperor!sukuna who one night, after a particularly long day of meetings, you're still in his lap in his private study. the documents are finished, the servants have retreated, and it's just you and him in the flickering candlelight. you're half-asleep, cheek pressed to his chest, and his lower hands have gone slack on your waist. but then one hand moves, sliding up, tangling in your hair, tilting your face toward his.

"you wear my gifts," he says, voice rough. "you sit in my lap. you sleep in my bed. i have gotten rid of all the other concubines." his thumb traces your lower lip. "do you know what that means, little one?"

you nod, because you do. because you've known for a while now.

"good." and then he's kissing you. it's deep and slow, like he has all the time in the world. when he pulls back, you're breathless and dizzy and your hairpins are definitely crooked. "mine," he murmurs against your lips, and you've never heard a word sound so much like a claim.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ emperor!sukuna who makes you empress and watches the court riot. a sacrificed village girl? a trembling little thing who can barely look anyone in the eye? sukuna listens to their protests with an expression of utter boredom, one lower hand resting on the small of your back, while the other stays wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to his side. you're trying very hard to become one with the floor, but he won't let you shrink away—his grip keeps you anchored against him. when the objections finally die down, he simply says: "she stays. or i start executing people. your choice."

you're pretty sure half the court wets themselves. you're also pretty sure sukuna finds this hilarious.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ emperor!sukuna who, now that you're empress, still has you sit in his lap during meetings. it's not even questioned anymore. his lower hands find your waist automatically, and sometimes—when the discussion gets particularly heated—you feel his thumbs slip just slightly beneath the hem of your robes, tracing circles on bare skin. you've learned to keep your face neutral. mostly. and sometimes, when his hands start wandering and you shift just slightly—rock your hips back against him, just a tiny movement, just enough that only he can feel it—his grip tightens immediately, his breath hitching almost imperceptibly. then his voice gets that particular edge when he dismisses the court early. "everyone out. now." you never make it back to the chambers. the throne room has a door. it locks.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ emperor!sukuna who sometimes, in the middle of the night, you wake up and find him just… watching you. not in a creepy way, but in a way that makes your chest ache. like he's never had anything worth watching before. "what?" you whisper, voice sleepy. "nothing." his thumb traces your cheek. "just looking." you bury your face in his chest, hiding your blush. his arms tighten around you, and you feel his lips press against the top of your head. "sleep, little one." you do. because for the first time in your life, you feel safe enough to.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ emperor!sukuna who says "come, my empress." and you go. you always go. and when you settle in his lap, face hidden against his chest, his four arms close around you like you're something precious—something worth keeping. "mine," he murmurs against your hair, and his hands are already finding their favorite places—your waist, your hip, the small of your back, your neck tilting your face toward his. and when he kisses you, slow and deep and claiming, you forget that you were ever a sacrifice at all. you're his. and that's the only thing that matters.

“hiromi,” your breath catches. just the raw, skin-to-skin contact is making arousal pool in your underwear, thighs squeezing together on instinct. 

“let me eat you out,” he whispers, breath fanning against your ear and making your stomach flutter. “please.”

“but you must be so tired, baby. don’t worry about me, you should rest,” you tell him, though your body gives away your desires, automatically leaning into his touch. “you’ve had a long day.”

“so have you,” he mumbles into your skin. “let me take care of you.”

every nerve in your body is screaming at you to just take his offer and indulge yourself for one night. 

your husband turns you to face him. he leans in closer. now, you can smell the faint scent of his cologne mingling with sweat on his skin. it’s musky and heavy and so so him. his eyes flick down to your lips and he presses his against yours. the kiss is tender and full of all the love you hold for one another but never have the time to say. his taste is familiar; reminds you of home. 

as he tangles his tongue with yours, he starts to gently push you towards the bed behind you. he breaks the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting his lips to yours, and rests his hands on your shoulders. you sit on the edge of the bed and shuffle backwards, leaning against the mess of pillows at the head of the mattress, elbows planted by your sides. 

you clench together to try and provide some semblance of friction between your legs, where your clit is aching with need. slowly, higuruma crawls towards you. he parts your legs and you let yourself get lost in the warmth of his touch, his rough hands running across the burning hot skin of your inner thighs. a soft exhale escapes his lips when his gaze falls upon the damp spot that has begun to spread across your cotton underwear. you suddenly feel exposed, sitting here in nothing but your bra and panties, whilst he’s fully dressed and looking up at you with glassy, pleading eyes. 

he leans his head against the inside of your plush flesh, and you extend a hand to cup his face. the ebony haired man in front of you nuzzles into your palm as you stroke your thumb across his cheek. hiromi begins to kiss the inside of your hand, sending chills scampering down your spine, and never once breaking eye contact with you. 

“please,” he pulls away slightly and his voice cracks with hunger. “let me make you feel good. you deserve it.” 

higuruma shifts his body to be face to face with your clothed, yet still drenched, pussy. 

“i don’t want to burden you, hiromi—”

you’re cut off by him pressing his nose into the fabric and inhaling deeply. “you’re never a burden,” he kisses your core. “i can relieve your stress for you. i want to help you out.” his worship of your body as if it were a temple makes butterflies swarm within you.

you nod lightly, any sense of resolve dissipating in an instant. “okay.”

hiromi wastes no time in peeling the sticky fabric away from you, tossing them to the ground and revealing your drooling cunt. it’s almost embarrassing, the way you're already dripping so much for him, slick oozing out of your hole after all he’s done is talk to you sweetly.

your husband swallows thickly. “sit on my face,” his voice drops down an octave and your stomach lurches. 

obediently, you follow his command. whilst he rolls over on to his back, you position yourself over him, straddling his face. it’s obscene how soaked you are—you think you can literally feel a drop of wetness drip down your inner leg—from the way your husband is gazing up at you right now. his eyes are half-lidded, jaw slightly agape as he breathes heavily, eager to taste you. who would have thought that a few weeks of abstinence would leave you so desperate to be touched?

“sit.” hiromi’s voice is husky and deep and he wraps his hands around your thighs, pulling you down on to his face. 

you can feel his breath flutter against your heat as you sink down on him. he presses a gentle kiss against you, then kitten licks at your clit, and your body tenses up in anticipation. instinctively, your hips buck down to chase his mouth. 

higuruma laughs, low and sultry. the vibrations reverberate throughout your body and make you shudder. 

“so eager.”

before you have time to scold him, he licks a strip up from your candied entrance to your throbbing clit, tongue flat against your folds. a strangled cry escapes your throat, the noise guttural and raw. it’s been so long since you’d had time alone with him, even the most mundane of acts feels almost overstimulating. 

hiromi’s eyes flutter closed as he moans into you, lapping up your juices like a man starved. 

“mmh,” he groans. “missed your taste.”

his words fly straight to your pussy; your hole quivers around nothing. your hands find the headboard in front of you and, when he glides between your folds, you grip it so tightly your knuckles start to turn white. his warm, wet tongue traces patterns into your clit, and the bliss is so overwhelming that you can’t help but whiiiine his name out. he’s slurping and gulping all of you and the sounds coming from the two of you are nothing if not filthy. 

and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, he plunges his tongue into you. in this position, his nose is pressing up against your clit, providing a mind-numbing pleasure that ripples over your body in electrifying waves. 

“fuuuuck, hiromi,” you mewl. “feels so—hah—good.”

you’re grinding down into his face now, velvety walls clenching around him with every push of his nose against you. his hands guide your hips as you fuck his mouth, legs trembling above him. 

“keep going, baby,” he grunts. “use me.” 

higuruma pumps his tongue in and out, curling it inside, nose relentlessly rubbing up and down your clit as he moves his head to match the pace of your hips. your mouth hangs open in pure ecstasy. helpless pleas tumble from your lips as he coaxes an orgasm out of you. 

“h-hiromi, ngh, so close,” you whimper. 

any other day, he would have taken the time to edge you until your brain turned to mush. today, however, he takes pity on his poor, overworked wife, and decides to let you take what you need from him. 

“you’ve worked so hard, baby,” he rasps, letting up his ministrations temporarily to praise you. “you deserve to cum, right?” 

“mhm,” your eyes are screwed shut in complete ecstasy as you thrust onto his face oh-so-desperately. “s-so close, i can’t hold out—”

your dewy slick is coating his nose, leaking down the sides of his mouth and his chin and higuruma is utterly drunk on your smell, your taste, on you. you fervently rock your hips, chasing your high with nothing in your brain other than hiromi, hiromi, hiromi. 

he withdraws his tongue from inside of you and drives it against your sticky silk, incessantly swirling around your clit. then he sucks, and you gush on his mouth. 

“shit—fuck—hiromi, ‘m cumming—”

your thighs clamp around his head, hard, and you cry out. the pleasure overtakes your body in full force, euphoria coursing through your veins and clouding your vision. the man underneath you continues to lick you through your orgasm, your muscles convulsing uncontrollably. to hiromi, the sight is exquisite: you, writhing above him, moaning his name out so deliciously. it’s almost enough to make him cum in his pants. 

and when you come down from your high, body slumping next to him, he just pulls you close to him, nestling your bodies together.

“thank you,” you whisper, fatigue spreading throughout your body. “i needed that. i love you.”

“i’ll do anything for you,” he kisses the top of your head. “always.”

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