#emosongs.collab

You should’ve known by his facial scar.

Your upcoming first day as a devil hunter was setting you on a pile of nerves, from then on you would be risking your life everyday.

Your upcoming first day as a devil hunter was setting you on a pile of nerves, from then on you would be risking your life everyday.

Your upcoming first day as a devil hunter was setting you on a pile of nerves, from then on you would be risking your life everyday.

This was your last weekend before the new job, so why not enjoy it at a bar followed by a hook up with a stranger?

Monday morning you still felt sore, it shouldn’t be a surprise after almost a entire night/morning of raw fucking and countless orgasms.

Your first weeks were supposed to be only training and supervised field work.

Unfortunately fate had other plans when your group was assigned to be supervised by Kishibe.

“You all should feel lucky, the first division hunters don’t do this kind of work, but we are short on staff” he murmured looking down at his own lighter trying to light up the cigarette.

Your stomach dropped at the sight of the black haired man from two nights ago.

While he took his time not looking up you stared at the scar on the side of his mouth, the memories you had from him sucking every inch of your skin brought a sudden heat to your lower half.

He finally looked up and his eyes stopped on yours, nothing on his expression indicating he recognized you, except the two seconds he looked at you then down at your pressed up thighs.

Of course. Things could never be simple for him.

Not for Kishibe.

It’s not like he meant to keep in touch with you after that hot night anyways. So he could just pretend to not know you for the time being.

“Who’s the newbie?” the last person he wanted to see showed up on his side.

“Not your business, Quanxi”.

“Someone’s grumpy, fine. Just asking ‘cause if you don’t hit that, I will”.

Soon you finished your task getting devil’s parts all over you. An unusual way to finish your training month, but you were proud. The only way things would be better is if the man training you didn’t pretend you weren't even there.

How were you supposed to feel watching him use his swords against the biggest devil you've ever seen, killing it like a cockroach? Or when he spoke a little too close to you, especially when your other colleagues were watching, so you just had to stay there and breathe his scent pretending it didn’t affect you.

At the end of your first and very long month you just wanted to go home, shower and find another stranger to hook up with that would not be your senior.

“That’s some nasty mess” you raised your head from the sink where you were cleaning your face and chest. You just happened to be the target of all the devils insides that day.

“At least I got the job done” you murmured looking at Kishibe’s reflex standing against the bathroom door frame.

“You know there are showers on the second floor, right?” he said shamelessly staring at your half naked form, only the dark bra covering you while the white shirt and tie were by the sink, if you had another shirt you would’ve thrown that on the trash already.

“I just wanna get this done as soon as possible to go shower at home” you rubbed your neck with a damp hand to remove the stains.

“Let me help” he entered what was supposed to be the woman’s bathroom taking some paper towels and wetting them on the way to meet you, rubbing the towels on the extension of your neck slightly gazing down at your chest.

You, on the other hand, seemed hypnotized by his lips, so close. After a month long where he barely looked at your way, you took the chance to admire his facial features, hair falling at the sides almost reaching his shoulders, two piercing at his ears. You never exchanged a full conversation that didn’t involve moans and whines, but you knew for sure that man couldn’t give a shit if anyone criticized his piercings or hair. Or even the fact he was at the ladies restroom with his half naked trainee, at a dangerously close proximity.

Kishibe rubbed the towels all the way from your neck to your cheeks, you noticed how his gaze fell upon your lips.

“I think we should—” you even tried to say something but was cut off by his rough lips pressing against yours.

He walked a few steps forward squeezing your body between his and the wall. You didn’t even have the time to feel self conscious about your body not being on it’s best state.

No.

Kishibe’s lips were your poison.

A slight touch of them and you had no more thoughts of your own.

His hard shaft was pressed against your lower stomach, his breath heavy against your lips.

You placed your hands on his chest lightly pushing him till his lower back reached the sink, now you had the space to drop on your knees and zip down his pants.

Kishibe didn’t have a plan when he got in the bathroom to check up on you, although having your sweet mouth around him while you looked like a mess on your knees was better than anything he could’ve planned.

The cherry on top of the cake was when Quanxi walked through that door.

You didn’t even realize it, too busy having Kishibe down your throat, but the sneaky smile he showed Quanxi when she stopped in her tracks was enough. She raised her hands in a surrounding motion slowly walking backwards to leave the bathroom to the two of you.

Not too long after you felt his hot cum slide down your throat, which you swallowed until Kishibe pulled you up by your neck immediately pushing his tongue inside your mouth.

You loved how he didn’t seem to be grossed out by anything, in fact the more nasty the more it seemed to arouse him.

“Here, let’s go” he dropped his coat over your bare shoulders and did exactly what you wanted to do, which was throwing the dirty shirt onto the trash can. You adjusted his coat on you to cover your bare front.

“Go where?”

“Finish this in my place, obviously”.

As a man of word he is, he took you to his apartment giving you his shower to get rid of the previous dirt and, of course, joining you there.

Kishibe didn’t like to owe people anything, the minute you were out of the shower he threw you on his bed ripping the towel off and parting your legs to gaze his cheeks on your thighs.

For the next years that became an arrangement of yours, two single hunters that had nothing to lose and way too much stamina.

You usually celebrated a successful hunt with a heating night or stood by each other when a fellow hunter passed away on the job.

That was until you got promoted to the first division to work along with Kishibe.

Of course your superiors didn’t know about anything going on between the two of you.

But you noticed how his behaviour around you changed.

Maybe things were easier when he was your senior, now with you around him every mission you two almost looked like… a couple?

“We need to talk” you dragged him into an alley after you two were assigned a mission together, “What’s going on? You’ve been acting all awkward around me, is it because I didn’t tell you about this promotion?”

“You don’t need to tell me anything, I’m not your boyfriend” he put a cigarette between his lips looking for the lightning, his hair now was turning gray, the years caugh up to him, even some wrinkles were starting to form around his eyes “I think we should end this” he motioned a finger between the two of you, “We work together now, it all leads to another messy ending.”

And just like that he walked away leaving you mouth agape.

You knew he wasn’t one for marriage, yet you stuck around, even dismissing potential good husbands you meet on the way. But you were not so young anymore, maybe it was time to settle down, marry someone with a normal job…

Kishibe remained truthful to his word, and he didn’t try to contact you anymore, however all the stuff you left in his place was a constant reminder of what he had lost.

No one would ever call Kishibe a coward. So why was he feeling like one?

All the years you two were together you never tried to force him to commit to you, even when it was clear neither of you were seeing other people.

It took him months — watching you laugh and even go home with other men — to realize he loved you.

“What happened to ‘it all leads to another messy ending’?” you asked when you opened your door to find your former lover waiting outside your apartment, the familiar starved look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry” something you never heard leave his lips before, “I can't take another disappointment” you heard the pain in his words, “But I need you back, and I would do anything to—“

“Even marrying me?” you cut him off going straight to the point, if you were younger maybe you could bring the topic after some quickie have a pillow talk about the future, but both of you were too tired for that.

The butterflies in your stomach haven’t change even after years of knowing him, you knew it was bad you were giving him an ultimatum yet it had to be done.

What you didn’t expect was the silver ring he pulled out of his back pocket, there was no box, just the first ring he found, on the first jewelry he passed in front of, on his way to meet you.

“Aren’t you supposed to get down on your knee or something?”

“Oh I will”.

His name bled from your lips in a moan, your back arched painfully as he fucked into you from behind with short, deep thrusts. Long, nimble fingers were wrapped around your throat, pulling you up until your head lolled back against his chest. “That’s it,” Gojo hummed into your ear, “such a good little whore for me, aren’t you, sugar?” Tears rolled down your cheeks, dragging thick streaks of glitter and darkness with them. You caught sight of yourself in the cracked mirror over the bathroom sink and closed your eyes in shame. You were a mess, a foolish lipstick-stained mess. The scarlet that had been so carefully painted onto your lips earlier was now smeared down your chin and bare neck, matching carelessly with the crimson smudges on Satoru’s face and collar. The neckline of your dress had been tugged down to free your breasts, the hem rolled up to reveal your cunt. And anyone could see you. The heavy thump of the bass reverberated through the cheap linoleum counter you were bent over, and just a few steps away, multicoloured lights flickered through the door to the club.

Tonight was meant to be different, tonight was going to be the night you quit. Tonight, beneath the kaleidoscopic shadows, on the melting dancefloor, you would walk away from your undoing. You would resist those bright summer sky eyes, that fox’s smile, that smooth lilt of crooned saccharine nothings. You would confront your addiction and defeat it. The words had wound their way around your tongue in barbed coils, ready to cast their iron thorns into the man who so carelessly cast you aside.

But, within the waves of rolling bodies, surrounded by the rhythmic surge of smoke-saturated song, his lightning-charged touch had ignited you and the daggers in your mouth had fizzled away into static. When Gojo Satoru held you, danced with you, kissed you, you reached a high beyond the stars. He was your drug, your celestial addiction, your escape. To him, you were nothing.

Gojo slapped you across the ass, hard. “Didn’t you hear me, slut?” he rumbled, “I told you to fucking watch yourself, watch me fucking you stupid,” he caged your jaw between his fingers, forcing your head to turn toward the mirror. “Open your eyes, whore,” Gojo hissed, painfully still within you. The ice of his belt buckle shivered over your outer thigh, and the open zip of his jeans rubbed harshly against your silken skin. Your eyelids fluttered open and Gojo slipped his fingers past your lips. “Suck,” he ordered, his other hand digging his digits deep into the plush of your hips. Without warning, he pulled out of you, until only the tip of his cock rested in your pussy. Then, he slammed his hips against your ass, stretching you out again on his pulsing length. You choked out a howl around his fingers, and drool began to trickle down his digits. Silently, Gojo fucked you, driving his cock into your cunt with quick snaps of his hips. To your relief, the music of the club just past the door drowned out the sound of your coupling, masking the slap of your ass against his lower abdomen and the muffled moans pouring from your mouth.

You were close, had been close since you’d started, your pulse thrumming with need from the moment you’d felt his hands on your hips and his words in your ear. “Bathroom. Five minutes.” Satoru had spoken. And you had obeyed. Despite all your previous resolutions, despite the well-worn tracks your tears travelled, night after night, despite the tired ache in your heart. Despite knowing that for all the love you held for him, you were only ever a casual fuck, a pastime, a source of release. It was the price of loving the powerful, you told yourself. How could you expect the person who always looked forward, always looked ahead, to ever look at you?

Of course, you knew your love was a web of lies. You knew that whatever sweet reassurance you gifted yourself was an empty promise. As much as you comforted yourself with the thought that someone like Satoru would never know how to love, you knew that that was false. Satoru could love. Had loved. Would not love again, especially not someone like you. So you settled. Settled for sudden wake-ups in the middle of the night. Settled for a cold bed the morning after. Settled for meaningless fucks in the bathroom of a grimy club.

Gojo picked up his pace, his fingers bruising in their hold, his breath hot on the back of your neck. You watched him rather than yourself in the mirror, memorising the rose flush of his cheeks, the wayward snowfall of his hair, the shine of his parted lips. Even under the glare of fluorescence, Satoru was an angel, feathers tousled from his celestial fall. A guardian angel, a visage of salvation, just not yours.

Your knees began to wobble, and you scrambled for a grip on the crumbling sink in front of you. Gojo was almost pulling you back onto his cock at that point, nearly toppling you from your heels with each spartan thrust. The tension in your lower abdomen had you trembling around Gojo, legs shaking and chest heaving. Your cunt ached, and you knew that walking tomorrow would be excruciating, but in this moment, Gojo deep inside you, his hands burning your skin, tomorrow was an eternity away.

But that eternity was a mirage. This would end, as always. And you would be alone, as always. Alone, until the next late night text or casually mentioned invitation, bright blue sparkling at you meaningfully over shadowed glasses, the trap laid out blatantly for all to see. And, with glossy eyes and fluttering lashes, you fell for it. Every single time.

Gojo pulled out from you completely, and your legs buckled beneath you. He hooked his hands below your arms and hauled you upright, spinning you and lifting you onto the counter. The linoleum creaked under your weight and you shivered at the ice touch of the tiled wall against your back. Satoru tugged your hips forward, and your ass hung off the edge of the counter. He gave you a wicked smile, throwing your one leg over his elbow and plunging himself deep into your soaking cunt. “Satoru!” you yelped, tears blossoming at the edge of your eyes, hands scrambling to find purchase on Gojo’s broad shoulders. You wound your fingers into the silk of his shirt, wrapping your other leg around his hips to bring him closer. “That’s it,” he cooed, “tell them who’s making you feel this good.” Satoru leaned back, one hand gripping your hip and the other anchoring himself to the counter. He began to piston his cock into your cunt, watching intently as his length was devoured by your needy pussy. With each thrust your entire body jolted, your tits bouncing and your knuckles white as you clutched at everything, anything, to keep yourself from harm. Gojo made a quiet observation of your face, your glowing skin, glazed over eyes, and drool trickling down your chin. His name came out in panted gasps and hitched moans, and Gojo had never felt closer to divine. Your cunt clenched around him and your legs twitched. You were close. Good.

His thumb was rough against your clit, ruthless in rubbing the nerves into burning pleasure. Your lower abdomen tensed, the white heat of your climax flaring into even greater flame. Gojo adjusted his grip on you, shifting how his cock pierced your pussy, igniting a burst of sparks in your belly. You keened then, desperate and weeping, almost collapsing from the wash of static warmth rushing over you. “Cum, slut,” Gojo ordered, “cum for me.” And you obeyed, sobbing his name as you shook around him. He fucked you through your shuddering pleasure, his hips sputtering and twitching as he chased his own release. Muttered curses fell from his lips as he hid his face in your neck, his fingers pressing deeper and deeper into your soft skin. “Fuck,” he rasped, pulling out to release himself onto your thighs and stomach, the white splatter hot on your exposed flesh. He shuddered into you, leaning his torso onto yours with its full weight, his breath warm and wet on your collarbones.

It was over. Again. Hesitantly, you reached up to caress the snowy fluff of his undercut, unconsciously holding him close as you savoured the gentle moment between you. Then, Gojo was stood, snatching a wad of paper towels and handing them to you with a cheeky smirk. He stood too far away, focussed on wiping himself off and tucking his cock back into his trousers. “Do you mind?” he asked, and you frowned, chest still heaving, limbs still trembling. You’re in front of the mirror, and he needed to neaten up. Shakily, you shuffled out the way, taking the clump of tissues and mopping at the mess of cum whilst you absently watched him from the corner of your eye.

Gojo Satoru was a drug, your drug. His high took you to heaven, but the crash was worse than the pits of hell. You fell too fast, and landed hard, for there are no soft words and loving caresses once he was finished. He splashed his face and combed his hair back with water, erasing all lipstick evidence of your tryst with a towel and a smile. He rebuttoned his shirt and straightened out the creases. He takes a moment to assess his appearance before hooking his sunglasses over his ears. He flashes you a grin and gives you a pat on the shoulder. “That was fun. Thanks, sugar,” he pinched your cheek playfully and strolled to the door. And he was gone.

You shivered, cold and coated in his cum. You cleaned yourself up with quaking hands and eased yourself off the counter. It was only when your knees hit the tiles that your tears truly began to fall. Your legs had given in as you’d tried to climb from where Gojo had left you, and you had sunk slowly to the grimy bathroom floor. Your eyes were ringed in teary fire, and your cheeks were wet with your pain. Once again, you were alone, used and abandoned. Once again, you were left with mending all your shattered selves back together, torn apart by cruel, carefree hands. Your tears dripped onto the tiles beneath you, stained black by mascara and shame. You clenched your fists, fighting back the raw red scream burning in your throat, fighting the urge to throw yourself onto the floor, fighting the need to feel anything but the hollow ache that rattled your chest.

You left the club in a daze, ignoring the stares as you climbed the stairs to your empty apartment. You were numb as you washed the night away, washed him away, wishing that the bleeding love you felt for him could dissolve and disappear from your life like the soapy water down the shower drain.

You got into your bed, your hair still dripping, your eyes still swollen. You perched on your mattress, desperately ignoring the aching expanse of vacant sheets beside you as you checked your phone. A few scoldings from Shoko. A wine recommendation from Nanami. A warning from Utahime to keep strong. Your mother asking if you were ever going to bring a partner home for dinner. And a message from him. A time and place.

Another night. Another club. Another fuck.

You answered.

Toji passed so fast you couldn’t even guess if he recognized you. But if he did you would be screwed.

“Suguru…” you whispered, pushing his shoulders, “I’m afraid I should go now, I’ll leave the check on my way out” you said, fixing your clothes and pecking his lips.

“Of course” he gave you the space to walk away, “Congratulations on your wedding, by the way”.

After an agonizing week the wedding day finally came. You waited everyday for someone to deliver you the news that the wedding was canceled, but nobody said a thing. The night before the wedding, Naoya came to take you to the Zenin state, where the wedding would be hosted. You would stay in a separate bedroom that night and move to Naoya’s later. During the drive to the state, Naoya remained calm and composed, talking a few times about your duties as his wife, so you guessed that Toji hadn't recognized you that day.

You didn’t know much about him anyways, besides the fact he’s a Zenin, the few times you were in the same room your eyes would obviously be drawn towards him, though no words were exchanged between the two of you.

Upon arriving on the state you started to look around, but no sight of him. Maybe he wasn’t even an active part of the family, right? You had nothing to worry about.

Servants from the Zenin state entered and left your room every minute to do your makeup, hair and nails as the white wedding kimono laying in the bed waited to be worn.

“Can you bring me something to drink?” you asked the last servant in your room that was supposed to stay in and help you dress the kimono.

For now you were wearing a long silk white robe and nothing underneath, while you stared at the mirror reflection checking the final details of your makeup you heard the door sliding open and close.

“Bring me that thong on top of my suitcase” you ordered not actually looking at the direction of the door since you were behind a folding screen, “Do you think I should wear a bra? That Kimono looks so thick, no one would know…” you stared at your perky nipples clearly visible through the silk material of the robe.

“No, I don’t think you should” the same cold green set of eyes you saw last week found you again through the mirror.

“Toji” you gasped his name, turning to face the invasor and looking around searching for the servant.

“What? Are you afraid someone will find you with another man…” he stepped forward and you backwards like a hunted animal that had nowhere to escape “…again?”

Your heart was beating so fast you were afraid it would come out of your mouth.

“Does that prick know his bride is not a virgin?” he was so close you just then realized you have never seen him from this close, his features were so mesmerizing that when brought his index finger to lift your chin your heart was beating for a whole different reason now, “Let me rephrase that: does he know his bride is a whore?”

“I— Are y-you—” you stuttered trying to come up with a decent sentence and failing miserably.

“If I’m going to tell? No, I’m no snitch, sweetheart” he caressed his thumb on your chin and you sighed in relief, “But you’re family now, so you won’t mind me welcoming you the proper way, right?”.

Toji roughly turned you around, pressing his bulge to your butt and placing one hand on your tummy covered by the silk robe slowly bringing it up to your breast and groping it with zero shame.

“Oh, you asked for this?” his other hand showed the thong you asked thinking he was the servant. You gasped at the sight of the pink delicate material in his big calloused hands and tried to reach to catch it back only for him to withdraw his hand puting the piece in his back pocket, “I’ll give it back when we are done” the hand at your breast moved to the inside of your robe pinching your bare nipple and earning a lustful moan in return.

“Would you really fuck the bride at her own wedding?” you twisted your neck to find his eyes but you couldn’t help staring at the scar at the side of his lips.

“Oh, I would and I will. If you have any objections speak now or forever hold your peace” his dark lashes fluttered above his threatening eyes waiting for an answer from you.

How could you deny a man like him? This could be a test, yet something about that scar made you believe that Toji had no intention to play by the moral rules.

So you naturally brought his hand, that was not on your breast, to the bottom gap of your robe making him feel the slickness between your legs.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I really thought you would be just another righteous and obedient bitch to marry a Zenin” his chest vibrated with a chuckle behind you, he moved the robe away exposing both your breasts to the air and groped then simultaneously with one hand making your body melt against him. His other hand was playing around messing your slick and bringing it to your clit in circular motions, in your hazed mind you knew he was trying to make you produce even more wetness and your body shivered at the wonder of how big he was. You jiggled you ass trying to feel his length and of course he complied by rubbing his clothed cock against your cheeks.

Finally Toji inserted two thick fingers at once, your walls receiving him with some struggle as he experimentally pumped his fingers moving them to stretch you in a scissor movement, you dropped your head on his chest, mouth wide open.

“Such a waste that a cute little thing like you will marry that virgin prick...” he mumbled, bringing his head low to suck on the inviting skin of your neck while his fingers worked that magic inside you.

Toji couldn’t believe how angelic you looked right now melting on his arms, he already thought you were way too pretty to marry Naoya, but as far as he heard you actually agreed to the wedding, though some elders discussed that you looked too much like a gold digger to join the family.

Fuck, so what? I would be glad to give some gold to that pretty face.

The opportunity of his life came when he found you almost publicly fucking with that weird cult leader. Who knew that the perfect bride could be such a whore?

Toji was thrilled for, not only be fucking you, but fucking you an hour away from professing your love publicly for his cousin.

“Toji—” you moaned his name sinking your freshly done nails into his forearm but he pulled his fingers off just when you were about to get there and brought them into his mouth to taste you.

You turned around to complain but your thoughts were interrupted by Toji lifting you up and making you lay down on the chaise lounge chair while he removed his shirt and pants.

Many scars marked his torso and, you imagined, even more on his back. You sat up on the chair reaching your hand to grab his neck and bring his lips closer to yours.

“Needy whore” he complained on your lips but indulged in your wishes nevertheless, hovering over you meeting your soft lips.

Toji was definitely not a kisser, but how could he resist a needy little thing spread out with the white robe pooled around like angel wings? It was a heavenly sight for a sinner like him.

The man above you bit your lip before moving away and placing a cushion under your lower back to rise your hips. You understood why he paid such good attention to previously stretching you when he finally got rid of his boxers, his huge throbbing cock standing tall and angry against his defined abdomen. For a second you wondered if your future husband’s dick would be that hard just by touching you.

Toji took his shaft and rubbed it on your folds to properly lube himself before sinking into you.

“Get ready, sweetheart, you will think about this cock when your husband pathetically fucks you tonight” your toes curled immediately when he was all the way in. The way you felt him so deep inside you made you want to cry.

On the other side, Toji was panting, his eyes glued on your pussy taking him so well, even sucking him for more.

“This whore hole of yours doesn’t want me to go away, maybe I should steal you for myself, eh?” he brought his thumb down to meet your clit, caressing it to make you relax your grip around him. Finally he pulled off and thrusted back into you, his pace combined with the attention on your clit made you squirm and moan against your arm. Toji grabbed your waist to hold you still while he thrusted harder, the sound of his heavy balls slapping into your ass and your drenched pussy taking him were loud enough to bring a red tint of embarrassment to your face.

For a second you wished it was him you would meet at the altar today, his body you would see every night, his dick you would cum around tonight again.

But you already made your choices, so all you could do was enjoy the moment.

Toji stopped his ministrations when he felt you clenching more and more, your orgasm just a few thrusts away. You cried since this was the second time he edged you.

“Y-You—“

“Shh, be good for me and turn around” he pulled off completely and gave your pussy a light slap.

With a whine you turned around supporting your weight on trembling legs by placing your knees on the lounge chair and raising your ass in the air, the silk robe now covering your back and failing on your side.

“Atta girl” Toji praised and rose from his place to drag you to the edge of the chair while he stood behind you, one foot on the floor and one knee beside yours.

The second Toji’s cock entered you again, tears pooled on your eyes, blinding you with pleasure.

This position made it much easier for him to pick a rougher pace, hitting hard on your cervix making you see stars every time.

All the work put into your hair and makeup was wasted now you were nothing but a mess, as the knot in your tummy was threatening to be undone you had to bite the cushion to stop the inevitable scream of pleasure.

“If we had more time I would edge you all day until you came with a mere blow” he didn’t need to touch your clit with the way his balls were hitting it, his restless pace made your body move slightly forward with every thrust to the point the cushion bellow you was stimulating your sensible nipples as well.

It was all too much and you never came so hard like this, Toji kept thrusting faster and faster, you were still cumming when you felt another sensation.

“Fuck, look at the mess you’re making squirting all over me”.

Squirted?

Toji brushed his fingers on your pussy, still wrapped around his cock, gathering the juices you produced and bringing to his mouth, mind hazed with how delicious it was.

“You will let me taste you another time, won’t you?” he slapped your ass to wake you up from your bliss.

“Yes, whenever you want, Toji” you mumbled against the pillow, your weak voice and teared face were enough to send Toji to the edge.

The man only needed a few more thrusts to come with a loud groan, thick ropes of cum filled you to the brim, so much and you took it all.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” he praised watching the white ring around the base of his cock before pulling out, freeing the path for his cum to run down from your pussy like a river, “Is that enough for this greedy hole?”

You laid on the chair trying to catch your breath and wondering how the hell you were supposed to walk in front of hundreds of people after that.

While you were at it, Toji dressed himself back and fished the cute thong off his pocket sliding it into your shaking legs.

“W-What do you think you’re doing?” you turned your head to watch him adjust the thin fabric on your sensible area.

Toji smiled at the sight of your widened eyes.

“That’s my wedding gift for you” he cupped your now covered cunt, “Gotta make sure it won’t go to waste, right?” he slapped your ass one last time before bending to kiss your neck, “And even if my cum runs down your legs while you stand there in front of all of those people promising to be loyal… at least it will match your white dress” he laughed and walked to the door turning around just when you were sitting up, “Welcome to the Zenin’s”.

taglist: @fiona782

“Let me guess, it’s the relationship news cast?”

“Hm, yeah I guess… Look Eren, I know she can be over dramatic sometimes, but I don’t believe in everything she says about you”.

“Over dramatic is the polite term” he left a bitter chuckle. You took two cans from the bag and offered him one and opening the other for yourself. “Enough of that, why were you planning on drinking alone at home when you could be getting free drinks at a bar?”

“What bar is giving away free drinks?” you asked confused at his question.

“Any bar you go there will be men offering to pay for your drink, don’t tell me I’m wrong” his emerald eyes ran through your body from head to toes.

“Yeah, right…”

“I mean it, you should enjoy shit like that while you’re still single, that’s what I would be doing” he threw the tiny bud left of the cigar into the floor, stepping on it.

“You say it like you are a seventy year old man married for decades” you said making you both laugh slightly.

“Well, that’s how it feels sometimes” Eren signed. You took the last sip of your can and reached the trash can beside Eren. “Sometimes all I want is to give her a real reason to bitch about” suddenly your faces were so close you could almost taste the cigarette on his breath, you two exchanged looks and that was enough to crash lips together.

You would be lying if you said that you never thought about Eren, having multiple hook ups in order to stop thinking about your best friend’s boyfriend was pointless when you were left barely satisfied while having to hear your friend bragging about how good Eren made her feel.

You would never admit how often you dreamed about kissing Eren, but actually having him caress your bottom lip with his tongue before deepening the kiss was surreal. He held your hips while moving to press you against the wall, one can of beer was not enough to make you drunk but Eren’s kiss was, more than the alcohol and nicotine.

A warm hand made its way under your shirt, his palm rested on your hip while his thumb circled your hip bone, such a simple thing made your underwear drench.

Just when he detached his lips from your mouth to move down your neck, your phone started to ring in your back pocket.

“Shit, really?” you murmured upon seeing the name of the last person you wanted to think about on your screen.

“Pick up, she’s probably looking for you to bad mouth me” Eren whispered to your ear before starting to suck your lobe.

You answered the call, placing the phone on your free ear.

“Hey, have you seen Eren? I’m trying to call him, but he is not picking up”.

“Why would I’ve seen him?” you tried to sound composed but now with Eren kissing the spot behind your ear you had to bite your own lip to suppress a whine.

“He lives in your neighborhood, dumbass. I wanna fix things, if you see him just say I wanna talk.”

You hanged up after assuring your friend you would deliver the message.

“Well, you heard her” you said.

“I couldn’t give two fucks about her right now” he reluctantly removed the hand under your shirt, “Can you take a plus one to that party?”.

The beers were forgotten at some corner of the house while you slowly walked backwards with Eren sucking your tongue. The bedroom seemed too far giving the amount of lust you two shared right now, so he once again pressed you to the nearest wall detaching himself from you just so you both could remove your shirts.

“E-Eren...” you moaned to his hot tongue running up neck. You gripped his arm trying to find a balance that your legs couldn’t provide. Eren took one of your hands from his bicep and placed it on his chest slowly leading your hand down until your fingertips felt the hardness of his abdomen, he quickly got rid of your jeans too and wasted no time cupping your intimacy.

“Fuck, princess, you are this wet just from making out? How long has it been since someone fucked you like you deserve?” his deep low voice was only fueling the ache between your legs.

“Please” you begged, pulling him by the waistband. His finger teased you through your panties, slowly massaging your folds up till your clit where you left the neediest moan Eren ever listened to, that was the incentive he needed to pull your panties aside and easily insert two fingers into you while tightly holding your butt with his free hand.

“Do me a favor and take off that bra, will you?” your hands abandoned his body to open the clasp and get rid of the undergarment. Eren left a trail of hot kisses all the way to your chest until his lips were wrapped around your nipple, sucking it lightly and swirling his tongue around the tip that was inside his mouth.

Calloused fingers found your sweet stop with no time, moving inside you with his palm deliciously resting on your clit.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this” he lips detached from you just to blow at the wet nipple bringing goosebumps to you and an involuntary clench around Eren fingers.

“Is t-that so?” you mumbled grabbing Eren’s hair and moving his face back to yours, green eyes cloudy with lust, his pace quickened especially to see how your face contorted from close.

“Remember that party where you were making out with Jean? God, I was so pissed, he wasn’t even trying. All I wanted was to push him away and have you…” you thighs pressed together as the wave of pleasure rushed through your body “...all to myself,” his palm was now pressing your clit to prolong your orgasm.

You shouldn’t be feeling like this, but right now anything Eren asked you would give to him, he had you utterly wrapped around his finger.

Eren took the opportunity of your open mouth to push his tongue inside, devouring you again. Not even a minute after you orgasmed passed, yet here you are, rushing to undress your best friend's boyfriend out of his pants and underwear, his long cock standing pretty against his toned abs. If the occasion was another he would be glad to have you on your knees and those pretty lips around his pulsating length, but right now he couldn’t wait to feel your walls around him.

Eren picked you up after quickly getting rid of the last piece of clothing you wore, you automatically wrapped your legs around his hips and arms around his neck.

He took his shaft and slowly glided it through your sweet juices.

“Fuck, Eren. I want you, please…” you hips jolted when his tip kissed your sensible bud.

“You’ve always wanted me, haven’t you princess? Always dressing up so pretty whenever you know we will be at the same place” your breath hitched, did he notice?

“N-No, I—”

“It’s okay, the best part of my night is when you enter the room...” he sank his length into you, “...and immediately avert your eyes right after meeting mine” his cock throbbed with the moan you let slip over being stretched out so good, “Am I right?”

“Y-Yes, Eren, you are” he couldn’t help but to place a wet kiss on your check. So cute for him.

“Good” his hips started to move, slowly dragging his cock in and out of your pussy, the silence of your apartment only increasing the squelch noises.

It was embarrassing how much you were enjoying this, from gripping his broad shoulders to having the top of his muscled thighs against your butt.

His pace fastened while murmuring sweet praises in your ear about how well you were taking him, your back arching the best it could given the tiny space you had between Eren and the wall, singing moan after moan while he groaned against your cheek, he was over the moon by having breasts so deliciously pressed again his torso and your walls sucking him every time he moved away.

You were not going to last much, not when you had the real Eren fucking you like this instead of some random guy you pretended it was him.

“Cum, baby, cum for me” he increased the speed against your spot, hitting it almost in a painful way if it didn’t feel so good, so perfect.

So you did.

Biting hard on his shoulder as your vision went blurry, heels pressing on his lower back and pulling him even more into you while creaming all over his cock.

Eren wished he could have you squeezing him so hard like this every night.

His thrusts became sloppy, fingers digging deep into your soft flesh until his hot cum filled your insides.

“Fucking shit, princess” he looked down to where you two met only to find a ridiculous mess all over his thighs dripping down onto the floor, he rested his sweaty forehead on your shoulder leaving kisses on your collar bone.

You attempted to unwrap your legs but he was quick to hug them back around him.

“Shouldn’t you go reconcile your relationship now?” you asked in between breaths.

“I will arrive fashionably late for that” he adjusted you and moved out of the wall walking towards the bathroom.

By the time Eren left, after the shower but not before a second round against the tiles, you were exhausted laying on your bed with a pleasing ache between your legs so you understandably drift off, it was earlier than the time you normally go to sleep so you woke up a few hours later with your phone buzzing on your night stand

The first message you check was from your friend.

Thx for delivering the message, I talked to him and we are good now <3

The second was from Eren:

When can I see you again?

This was a long goodbye. A goodbye that was meant to end after a single kiss, after a final confession made between two people who were robbed of words, robbed of time. But somehow that kiss had grown to an embrace, to skin against skin, bodies entwined. You tucked your face into his neck as he rocked into you, your legs wrapped around his hips and your fingers embedded in the shifting muscles of his back.

Suguru fucked you slowly, painfully, his breath hot on your neck as he held you flush to his chest. This was the last time he’d hold you like this, the last time he’d get to feel you around him, to see you unravel beneath him. It was the first time he’d seen you in months, and the last time you’d see him for eternity. He refused to speak, instead listening to the soft huffs and moans that trickled past your tongue, listening to the thud of your heart echo through his ribcage. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, look at you, wouldn’t witness the teary adoration in your eyes, wouldn’t trace the pain in the curl of your lips. He couldn’t face another truth, even if the beauty of it outweighed the rancid taste of the truth he’d swallowed for so long.

You loved him. You loved Suguru. Despite the enraged pain in Satoru’s eyes, despite the cynically laced sarcasm of Shoko’s jokes, despite the empty seat in the classroom reserved for him, never to be filled again. You loved him, despite what he’d done. Despite whom he had become. Because the madness of a few bloody hours could not erase the years of desperate embraces and unspoken love letters. The power of an execution order could not erase the ache in your bones for his touch, his love.

You could laugh, and probably should laugh, given the absurdity of the situation. Three years. It had taken you three years to fully understand your love for Geto Suguru, and the breath of a few words to forbid you from ever loving him again. Three years of lazy kisses stolen between classes, of secret trysts in storage closets, of long nights spent caught up in each other’s bodies, each other’s hearts. Never defining the words that bound you together, never voicing the confessions that lay in peaceful silence between you. And now, the declaration of his execution destroyed those unspoken promises into fractured hearts. When you’d found him, sitting at your apartment door, those words hung over your head, a tug of war of thoughts. Turn him in? Let him in?

You’d let him in, handing him a bag of groceries and telling him where to pack away your supplies for the coming week. You had not mentioned the tightness in his jaw, the circles below his eyes. You had not mentioned the call you had just finished with his former best friend, or the mission that was being planned to catch him. You had not mentioned that he was a wanted killer, and that you loved him, loved him with everything you had. Instead, you’d offered him coffee, and had received a kiss as an answer. A kiss that had become your last coupling, the last time you’d feel complete, the last time you’d feel anything.

Suguru pulled away, avoiding your eyes whilst he grabbed your legs and pressed your knees to your chest. He glanced at his hands, bloodstained despite the scrubbing. Soap cannot sanitise memories. His hands, a killer’s hands, and your fingers wrapped around his wrists. He pushed your thighs flush to your chest and began to pick up his pace, pumping himself into your soft warmth with long, deep strokes, coaxing you towards your high.

He kept his eyes closed, hair falling around his face in inky waves of silk whilst he thrust into you. You yearned to reach out, to cup his cheek, to brush the strands clinging to his forehead away, to press your lips to his. Instead, you held him, hands trailing up and down his arms, circling his wrists when you started to climb. Your orgasm soaked into you, saturating each nerve ending in warmth until your body was a beacon of white heat, burning too bright, too fast. Suguru kept going through your high, his movements jagged as he chased his own release. He nearly suffocated you when he came, trapping you beneath his chest as he filled you, his face hidden away in the crook of your neck. You lay like that for a small eternity, his heartbeat flooding your chest, your tears spilling down your cheeks to join his in their salty descent to your sheets.

When he finally pulled away, leaving you empty and weeping, he settled on his side, tugging you against him with your back to his chest, his hand laying right over your brokenly beating heart. You waited until his breathing fell into deep dreaming sighs, gentle on your bare shoulder, when you began to speak.

You whispered, half in fear of waking him, half in fear of the words themselves. Your words were strangers to you, and your tongue got tangled in the rich red of love and the bitter green of betrayal. They were words sorcerers should never speak, because when the heart gained a voice, the world gained a curse. But they flowed from you in jilted poetry, singing of shattered promises of a rosy future, of summer-shaded memories, of the shadowed present. Of your vows to him, and the vows to yourself.

You could not walk his path. You would not. Even though you knew and understood his pain, had borne witness to his suffering and the suffering of your fellow sorcerers, your heart did not beat with his. You believed in life, and would not follow him to death. You would fight a losing battle, would sacrifice yourself to the eternal war. And you would be okay. Happiness would not be an option, not in a world where he walked away, not in a world where you walked with him, but you would be okay. You and Satoru would be okay.

You reassured him as much as you reassured yourself, hoping the ragged gasp of your sobs wouldn’t tear him from his slumber, praying that you were imagining the gradual rivers of tears rippling down your back where his face nuzzled into your skin. You would miss him, you told him. Miss the way he always tasted of black coffee to offset whatever stupidly sugary treat Satoru had shared with him earlier, miss the lingering scent of nicotine and incense that clung to him, miss the silken smoothness of twirling his hair through your fingers. You would miss the way his hands felt, the way they made you feel, loved, precious. The way he smiled, a sight you had not seen since Riko, the way he laughed so hard it was contagious, the way he would scold Satoru like an irritated grandmother would an obstinate toddler. You would miss him, and you told him. But you would still be okay.

You woke alone, the pillows still damp from weeping, sheets still crumpled from where he’d slept.

There was love, and it had left

…

Years later, and love was leaving, again.

Love was smiling, soaked in blood, panting out breathless chuckles and curses far worse than hate. You knelt beside Satoru, one hand in his, the other in Suguru’s. Satoru clung onto his best friend’s shoulder, blindfold unravelled, persona evaporated. You brushed the hair out of his eyes, your fingers sticky with his blood, wiping away his tears with the heel of your hand. You returned to holding his hand, his fingers slowly losing their grip. He repeated your promise back to you, from that night, all those years ago. You and Satoru would be okay. You had to be.

But how could you lie? How could you deny him the truth? You were not okay, hadn’t been since that morning. That morning when he’d walked away from you and Satoru, and you had walked away from Jujutsu entirely. You’d walked away from his ghost, dissolving yourself into the ceaseless race for the next raise, next promotion, next tier of emptiness. Like Nanami, it was easier to lose yourself to humanity than to save it, especially when your hero wasn’t there to stand beside you. Satoru had offered to be your hero, one night, after a sombre dinner and a tearful stroll beneath the stars. But Satoru needed a hero himself, he could not be what he himself required. So the pair of you had drifted, two lost souls without an anchor, one burning to win, one already defeated. Until he’d returned, full of false malice and poorly hidden pain. The lost hero, the reborn villain. Now dying.