#ktv.writes

——

You remember being laid across your bed, phone in hand as you yapped away to a new friend of yours. Now, you and this friend got along because he was the complete opposite of Sukuna. He didn’t threaten you over petty things, didn’t curse you out and call you mean nicknames, and most importantly, he wasn’t batshit crazy.

While you were busy half-listening to your friend’s voice on the line, you began to smell the faint scent of something acrid. The smell made your face scrunch up, nose crinkling as your brows furrowed and you glanced around your room. You thought that maybe you could’ve left the stove or oven on somehow, even though you don’t remember turning either of those things on..

The scent reminded you of burnt toast if it was intensified to the third degree so, clearly something was burning.

“Are you even listening to me…?” The man on your phone grumps. You could practically picture the pout on his lips, “Hellooo?”

Shaking out of what’s got your expression shifting, “Yeah-, yes, I’m here,” You replied hurriedly, “Sorry, Satoru, gimme a second.” You end up telling him as that smell from the first floor of your home began to grow stronger.

The whole thing was making you very uneasy and it didn’t take much for you to feel the panic seeping up into your veins as you slipped out of your bed and went rushing towards your door. As soon as you opened it, you were smacked in the face with clouds of thick, black smoke that made you cough, bringing one hand up to cover your nose as you ducked and walked out into the wall of heat coating your home’s air.

“You alright over there?” Gojo had asked you, having heard your coughs and even catching a faint crackling as the phone picked it up into the call.

Between another cough, “Yeah, m’fine,” You say jokingly, “My house is just on fire.”

“What??” He gasps, taking in the full severity of the situation, “Shouldn’t you be calling the cops or something?”

You’re leisurely making your way down the hall with your nose still covered and your body slightly hunched over so you don’t inhale too much smoke. This isn’t the first time a certain someone has set something of yours on fire so you suppose that’s why you’re more annoyed than you are scared as you make your way to the edge of your staircase.

Standing there, you lean into the phone a little more. “Yeah, I’m getting to it…” You tell Gojo, easing your way down the steps to peak around the corner and see that the fire is much bigger than what you were expecting.

Again, this isn’t the first time that “best friend” of yours went setting shit on fire in your house. But, this is the first time he set your actual house aflame. Your eyes widen and all that casualty you previously had died inside you as big, wild flames pop and crackle with heat from your living room.

“Oh shit,” You gasped, “S-Satoru, I’ll call you back.”

“Are you oka—“ Before he could even finish, you were hanging up and moving with shaky fingers to dial the police.

And somewhere under all those flames, you swore you heard laughing. Sick, maniacal, and twisted laughter—a sound of which you’d come to recognize anywhere.

Everything that happens after that is one big ugly blur of events. Such an innocent night had turned into something foul all because you’d called Gojo one of your best friends earlier in the day. You don’t even know how the fuck Sukuna got wind of that comment but low and behold, he was the one who set your living room on fire.

The cops were called shortly after you’d discovered the flames and you remember having to be transported out safely in the arms of one hulky blonde fireman, who Sukuna then tried to attack before he was swiftly arrested and pinned to the ground by policemen.

Outside of your home, the two of you had argued back and forth from a distance while they worked cuffs over his wrists. You don’t remember the details of what you’d shouted at him as most of what you spewed was in anger but you do still picture the crazed smile the man had on his face every time you said something especially vicious to him. That was exactly why he liked you so much–, or rather, liked being your friend so much.

Sukuna always adored how you never let him walk all over you, even after he’d literally burnt a part of your house down. 

Somewhere between him getting arrested and that sweet blonde fireman—who’s name you noted as Nanami—Sukuna happened to see a gently clothed hand cleanse your face from the few ashes that’d covered your features. The only thing you heard was a snap as he’d broken out of the cuffs and launched himself forward.

It was an even bigger mess from then on.

You barely remember seeing that poor fireman get punched in the face, to which you jumped up, went swinging at Sukuna and… yeah, it was bad. Really bad.

It took multiple police officers and firefighters to pry the two of you off of one another. Well, more like to pry you off of him. You’d landed multiple blows to his face and quickly caused his nose to bleed but, the thing about that entire altercation that had you livid was the fact that he was smiling throughout each second of it.

This was another thing that wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to do. You’d done almost everything under the sun towards one another within the past ten years that you were acquainted—which yes, includes fighting one another. Though, the fighting in question mostly consisted of you hitting him and Sukuna just taking it.

He may have been crazy in every other field imaginable but he'd, surprisingly, never hit a woman. Especially not you.

While you'd been beating up on the man and just before the officers had pulled you two apart, you do remember one more little detail that still manages to cling to your mind to this day.

It was just as an officer had shouted something along the lines of, "Stop right there!" that you recall the glint in Sukuna's eyes dimming and the way his smug smirk flickered. It seemed like reality had finally settled back into his head for a moment and even though you still had a partially bloodied fist hoisted up, ready to land on his face again, you swear that second stretched out longer than it should've before his voice came out ever so softly.

"Fun's over, huh?" Sukuna had whispered to you, as if he somehow knew and fully expected this to be his last moment seeing you. He understood that he was going to jail for all this but that wasn't exactly his biggest concern.

His main thing here was that he had to accept the fact that you probably hate him now—

"Fuck you." You spat, finally, before he could even finish his thought.

If the pill wasn't a tough one to swallow previously, it damn sure was then.

You were pulled off of him seconds later and he was dragged away—this time towards the back of a police car—and although there was something distant and somber about the way his eyes still lingered on you and that same fireman who came to help you, he kept those two words of yours in the forefront of his mind.

After all, it was the last thing you'd said to him.

“Are you okay?” Nanami ended up asking you as he stepped impossibly closer and was quick to tend to you as if his condition wasn't worse off. Concern was etched all into his features but, even though you heard him, your eyes were busy fixed onto Sukuna.

You managed a nod and felt the man's hands reach for yours to clean the blood off of them. You should've been able to take your eyes off of the same guy who literally just set your house on fire and then proceeded to attack someone just for helping you.

And yet, there you were, letting Nanami's smooth suggestion of, "Let’s get you checked out,” flow through one ear and out the other.

Even as he gently pulled you away from the scene, your mind was one big mess of confliction. You're supposed to hate Sukuna now, obviously. He was insane!

But... he's always been that way and somehow, you've always forgiven him for it. Maybe it was because there was more good with him than there was bad. Or perhaps it was because he was the only man you knew could match your crazy.

Part of you wanted to go and fight for Sukuna's freedom after the whole ordeal, y'know, that really delusional and stupid part of you. And the other half of you knew that the sensible thing to do here was to leave him where he was. Maybe a couple years in jail would do him some good.

Right?

——

That was five years ago from now, where your home has since been repaired and free of the violent crimes of which your ex-best friend committed against you.

Luckily, you listened to the logical half of your brain and went against fighting for his freedom or contacting him at all, no matter how many times you found yourself missing him.

These days you try to convince yourself that you don't even think about him as much but, every time you bring a new guy into your life it just feels weird or, something feels like as though it were crawling up your spine. Especially if you tried to talk to someone romantically.

You'd always experience this odd lump of guilt eating away at you and it made you feel strange considering the fact that you should feel free of Sukuna's control over you and who you date. You'd been in relationships before he was locked up, after all.

Even though most of them ended in the weirdest ways...

You remember how one guy told you how he didn't want to die just for dating you. At the time you laughed it off, thinking he was being dramatic, but looking back on it now... perhaps Sukuna had something to do with it?

There was also the time a guy completely ghosted you just a few days after you'd both admitted you were in love with one another. You don't know what that was all about but, again, looking back on it now...

To take your mind off of the man you're not supposed to be thinking about, you end up fishing for your remote after plopping down on your living room couch. The TV soon flicks on and you shove all thoughts of your ex-best friend into the very back of your mind where he belongs.

He's exactly where he's supposed to be now anyway; rotting in a cell somewhere.

On a brighter note, for the past five years straight you've been living your best life. For the most part, anyway.

You and that nice blond fireman got closer through the years and he often comes over to your house to give you some company after you'd explained how Sukuna was your closest friend years ago. You know Nanami visits you out of pity but, you never exactly reject him.

The only unfortunate thing about that situation is the fact that every time he flirts with you, you can't find it in yourself to reciprocate. There's nothing wrong with him and he'd be a good fit for you, truly. The issue here is that you can't ignore how wrong you feel when you're with him.

He could be doing nothing more than sitting on your couch watching TV with you and yet you felt as though you had Sukuna's eyes burning into the very back of your skull—watching, judging, daring. There was even a time you and Nanami tried kissing. He wasn't bad at it and neither were you, something was just wrong about it and you didn't know what it was.

Perhaps Sukuna had unconsciously conditioned you into some sort of deep rejection towards anyone that wasn't him and you hadn't realized it.

Things only became clear for you when the same thing happened with Gojo. Who you tried going on dates with, tried to let spoil you, and even tried sleeping with. All of which failed miserably, especially that last little act. You'd felt off the entire time, so much so that you don't even think you were turned on.

Which was crazy to think about considering he's Gojo Satoru! It's not like you weren't into him.

He'd treated and touched you better than any guy ever had before—as did Nanami—but maybe that was the problem. Maybe you didn't want something that was smooth and gentle with you. Maybe you needed the craziness you only knew to come with the asshole sitting in prison right now.

Or at least... the asshole that was sitting in prison.

The moment your TV finally turns on, there's a news report playing that instantly snatches up your attention and makes every vein in your body run cold. The report ahead explains how a man who'd been convicted for arson had recently escaped prison and has been on the run for at least three days now.

You swallow thickly and your eyes quickly flock around to various corners of your house. Three days? Logically speaking—and not like you looked this up before or anything but—that's about the same amount of time it would take for him to get to your house on foot...

You turn back to your TV and sink further into your couch, turning the volume up to listen intently to the rest of the report before you drive yourself insane. The fugitive could be anyone after all. Arson is a pretty common crime to commit, isn't it?

"—The man is said to be at least six feet tall with pink hair, dark red eyes, and tattoos all over his face," The woman on your screen adds on suddenly before a mugshot pops up just a few inches away from her.

Aaaand fuck, it's him.

You immediately shoot up from your seat and start rushing around your house to make sure all the doors are locked and that every window is shut tightly. Hell, you even consider bordering up all exits and entryways.

The sound of your heart racing in your chest thumps all the way up against your eardrums as you fight with the increasing sensation of paranoia rising within you. You move all throughout your home, slamming doors shut and double-checking each lock with slightly trembling hands.

You hate how all it took was one little report to have you all anxious and thinking about him again. It's been five years. Maybe you saw the report wrong, maybe it was about that younger, identical nephew of his...

No, no, that doesn't even make sense. He was just a kid the last time you saw him and from what you remember, he wants to be nothing like his crazy ass uncle.

Fuck.

Over six feet tall, pink hair, dark red eyes, tattoos all over his face... Only one person fits that description and you know it.

Fuck.

You saw his face too, you can't just ignore that and try to convince yourself it isn't him.

The news is still playing off in the background, echoing throughout the walls of your house almost hauntingly now as you struggle to ignore the punctuating reality of Sukuna no longer being behind bars.

"He's not coming here," You mutter to yourself, despite the suddenly pounding memories of him flooding right back into the forefront of your mind.

Fuck.

It's been five years, there's no way he's going to escape from prison just to come torment you again. Or worse, to come get revenge from you not coming to see him all this time...

Then again, if you still can't help but think about him in moments where you really shouldn't be, he's probably been doing the same thing. Hell, you're probably the only thing on his mind right now.

Something in your chest throbs at the mere idea. You don't know why that invoked such a physical reaction from you, it's not like you've ever liked the guy or anything like that.

Aside from the first few years of your friendship when you had the biggest crush on him.

But that was fifteen years ago, feelings like that don't linger this long. Feelings like that shouldn't linger for this long, not after he's burned down a quarter of your house and has been sent off to jail for it.

For a moment you consider dialing the police but, what exactly would they do aside from send an officer or two out to your house for the night? Your phone is in your hands now and all you're doing is staring at the screen with a million thoughts in your head.

You can't call the police, that'd just end in another big brawl between you and Sukuna before he's arrested again and, unfortunately, the last thing you feel like doing is fighting anymore. You don't think you have the energy for that, especially not this late into the night. So, you end up pocketing your phone and instead head back to your living room.

Up until you hear a sudden thud from somewhere behind your house.

Your heart sinks into your ass and you freeze. Straining your ears to catch more sounds, you slowly turn on your heels and creep back towards your kitchen. The floorboards beneath your steps creak softly but you swear you hear a distance set of steps creeping around as well.

Yet, when you stop, the sound stops as well.

So perhaps you were just driving yourself insane?

Yeah, that's probably it. It's been five whole years, Sukuna would not spend all that time thinking about you and then turn around and come back to the same woman who got him thrown into jail. He's crazy but he's not that crazy.

Taking one more stretchy moment to let the silence linger on, you release a long sigh and pace into your kitchen. Just in case, you still want to have a weapon on you in the event that your delusions turn out to be true.

Right before you reach the knives, the sound of your house phone ringing like something out of a cliche slasher movie cuts through the air and easily scares the shit out of you.

Flinching, you hurry over to it and scramble about to get the phone into your hands properly, quickly lifting it up to your ear. "Hello?" You call out with a slightly shaky voice.

At first there's no sound, just static. Which, of course makes you want to hang up.

You've never been a fan of scary shit and the only person who knows that about you is Sukuna. So if the creepy silence was telling you anything, it's that it was definitely him—

"Hey, have you seen the news?" Gojo's voice rings out to you after one too many deafening seconds of eerie silence.

With a heavy sigh of relief, you almost smile into the phone. Thank God it's just him. "Yeah," You reply half-breathily, "Of course I saw it."

There's a slight sound of shuffling over the phone and you think you hear keys for a moment, "Do you want me to come over? Y'know, just in case that maniac shows up?"

You're shaking your head before speaking, "No, no, you don't have to do all that, Satoru. I'm fine-, it's fine."

"You don't sound fine..." He points out.

You roll your eyes for a moment, hating how well he's gotten to know you over the past few years. Leaning against your kitchen counter a little, you glance over at the knives just a few inches away from you, "How do I sound then?"

Gojo scoffs harmlessly, "Shaken up."

You're quiet for a moment and within it, it's almost like your breathing is echoing around you. Ignoring the intensified sound, you shake your head and shut your eyes for a second to ground yourself, "I'm fine, really."

The man over the phone lets out a long hum and you could almost hear the skeptical look on his face, "I'd be over in fifteen minutes top, y'know... I just-"

"Satoru," You cut off gently, "Seriously, I'm okay. I... I know how to handle myself and I doubt he's even coming here. It's been three whole days after all. He's probably on the other side of the country by now."

"Right..." Gojo trails off for a moment before shrugging, even though you can't see it. "Well, if you're sure. Just uh," He clicks his tongue slightly and leans into the phone, voice getting a little louder against your ear, "Call me if you need anything."

"I will, I will." You promise, "Goodnight, Satoru. A-And don't call my house phone anymore, you scared the shit out of me."

He chuckles, "Sorry, you weren't picking up your cell so I got a little worried. But, yeah, goodnight, sweetheart."

You place the house phone back into its original place and the call ends there. Your hand lingers on top of the phone for a bit before you slowly slide your touch away and let your shoulders relax.

All the tension that'd been there just a moment ago has died down a little and you feel calmer now.

See? Everything is perfectly fine.

But, it wouldn't hurt to grab one of those knives just in case...

Fishing through the knife holder, you eventually pluck one up and bring it closer to you for inspection. You let the blade's end tap against your finger softly to make sure it's sharp, not exactly cutting yourself but just checking it out. Then, you breathe out another sigh as if to steady yourself again.

You had a weapon and you could call up Gojo if anything else went sideways so, everything was okay.

Just as you turn around, that last little thought of yours is practically fucked out of your head violently. There's a tall, brooding frame of a man standing a few feet away from you inside of your kitchen, the sight of him enough to make your entire body flinch with a physical force strong enough for you to drop the knife you just picked up.

You shoot down for the weapon you dropped and scramble it back up into your hands before rising up to your feet again, seeing that the man who'd just scared you hasn't moved an inch.

As your breath remains uneven and weighted with fear, the male inside your house is standing there with that signature smile of wickedness plastered all over his face. Cocking a thick pink brow, which you notice has two slits in one them, "'Sweetheart', huh?" He drawls, voice all dense with a baritone that fills every inch of the space between you both.

Your eyes are wide and frantic, running over every bit of your ex-best friend standing before you, trying to figure out whether or not this is real or just some fucked up nightmare. His hair, that same bright pink you know it to be, is all unkempt and wild atop his head as his eyes, low-lidded and dark, steadied onto yours.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You hiss out slowly, sounding unsure in your own tone given the abundant sense of unease inside you.

You watch his lower, rose-toned lip get pulled in between his teeth at the mere sound of your voice before his head angles to the side in slow motion. Then he lets his crimson eyes drag up and down the expanse of your frightened frame and swallows up every inch of you with his gaze alone. It's only been a few seconds and you felt as though you were shrinking under him already, despite the distance between you.

Sukuna's voice carries out with the same rasp that never fails to drive you insane, "Awh, come now," He coos with a pout of mocking smearing across his face for a moment, "Is this any way to greet your best friend? Pointing a knife at me as if it hasn't been years since we've last seen one another."

Your eye twitches in annoyance, "You set my fucking house on fire!"

He visibly reacts to the elevation in your tone with a rise of his brows and a slight adjustment backwards as if you'd pushed at him. "Surely you're not still mad about that," He purrs lowly before taking a small step forwards and ignoring the blade you have aimed his way.

You shift backwards but you merely meet the counter and realize you'd have to run left or right if you wanted to escape him. That, and most of the exits are somewhere behind him.

"You need to leave," You breathe hotly, "Get out before I call the cops again or I swear to—"

"Call the cops again?" Sukuna scoffs loudly and his next step closer makes the floor groan distantly under his bulky frame, "You think they can keep me locked up forever? I escaped once, I can do it again." Now he's only a few more steps away from you and you've yet to pry yourself away from your spot.

You hate how you can hardly move under his gaze, as if you'd been put under some type of spell or something, your body condemned to stay in place.

"And do you know where I'll come once I do?" He adds on slowly, sneaking nearer until he's only one step away from your personal space. "Right," The distance lessens as he takes that final step, "Back," Sukuna extends an arm out and you feel it brush against your side as he places his hand on the counter behind you, his lips grazing your ear now, "To you." he finishes off in a chilling whisper.

You fall impossibly quieter and he pulls away from your ear just to meet eyes with you, leaving you there to stare up at him with years of and years of emotions floating around your gaze. You wanted to say something, anything, but the only thing you could manage was a subtle twitch of your lips. To which he took as an opportunity to fill the silence.

Tone almost vulnerable if you listened hard enough, "I just wanted to see you," Sukuna admits, almost like he'd missed you or something.

Your grip on that rather useless knife of yours tightens, as does the feeling in your chest. You're standing face to face with him now, halfway trapped between his large body and the counter behind you.

And as if to unintentionally ruin the moment, his eyes sink further along your frame, drinking in your lack of a response to him and instead letting his expression color itself in amusement as he leans down to you and whispers, “You look good.”

The heated, “Fuck you.” that pours past your lips is instantaneous. You didn't even have to think about the words before uttering them, nor do you regret saying them to him in such a distasteful tone.

Sukuna hums somewhere deeply in his throat and draws himself back just a bit, “That’s what I’m here for, brat.”

You blink, “What?”

“Don’t you remember?" He continues, eyes studying every curve and twitch in your face as if he'd forgotten how expressive you could be. "All those years ago, that’s what you asked me to do, isn’t it?”

Your lashes are batting with perplexity now, “I didn’t ask you to do shit-”

“Well, that is the last thing you said to me.” He cuts off quickly. Then his hand moves off of the counter behind you and you instinctively draw your knife up, the tip of the blade tickling his chin and causing his head to tip back some. There's a faint hitch in his breath as he's caught off guard ever so faintly.

Testingly, your eyes remain vexing and pointing upwards on his, “So?”

His hand carefully reaches your wrist and his fingers curl around it, his touch a sense of gentleness you've never felt from him before. Sukuna was touching you as if you were made of some kind of porcelain—liable to break at any given moment. Which, naturally, had you even more pissed off. It lets you know that five years away from you did nothing but make him think he'd left you all fragile and on the edge of breaking or something.

“Are you really gonna sit there and act like you didn’t miss me all this time?" The fugitive questions further, voice an annoying cadence of softness. It was so out of character for him that it made you feel even more uneasy standing in front of him.

Something wasn't right here.

“I didn’t," You claim as if you hadn't spent over half of those five years doing exactly that.

“Mh," Sukuna hums again and this time his lips twitch back up into that usually smug smile, voice dropping, "Yeah? Is that what helps you sleep at night?”

To combat with his never ending smugness, you try to appear as nonchalant about it as you can and drag out your little white lie some more, “Yup.”

“Tch.” He's quickly irritated by that one word threading past your lips with such indifference, “So I set your house on fire one time and now all of a sudden ten years of friendship don’t mean shit to you?” He asks.

The statement itself was almost more concerning than the fact that he'd done that to you. You'd think five years in confinement would help a person think over their actions and actually consider the wrong in their crimes but apparently Sukuna Ryomen wasn't prone to such a thing.

“You tried to kill me, asshole.” You remind him for the nth time.

He talks half a step away from you and chuckles, “I’d never do something like that and you know it. If that fire had hurt you that day, I’d never forgive myself for it.” Sukuna claims in a weirdly endearing way.

You hate how that makes your chest do that weird clenching thing again, as if his words still had an honest affect on you after all this time. Somewhere distantly in your mind, you were screaming at yourself about how you should've called the police on him again when you had the chance, while you were still somewhat in your right mind. But now it was too late, you were already wrapped around his finger tightly with no desire to unravel yourself from him.

Before you can manage out another jab, he ends up bringing one of those large hands of his up to his sharpened jawline and then runs his palm over it carefully, gaze drooling out an emotion you don't care to acknowledge right now, “And I meant what I said,” He whirs, “You look good.”

Finally rolling your eyes elsewhere, “You shouldn’t be here.” You deflect.

Sukuna obviously doesn't move, “You’re not telling me to leave.”

“You need to.”

“Do you want me to?” He retorts, taking the following long second of silence as a decent enough response from you, “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

After which you allow yourself a moment to finally take the sight of him in. He's not as close as he was before which is somewhat helpful to your buzzing nerves but... fuck, he got even hotter within the time he's been gone.

Sukuna's always been tall but you swear he's grown a few more inches. All his features are sharper and more defined as if he hadn't let a day go by without properly taking care of himself, despite being locked away for so long. His body is staggering more so now than ever before as he stands in front of you clad in nothing more than a crisp white T-shirt and the rest of his prison jumper sitting low on his hips.

Now, this shouldn't be as distracting as it is but, as soon as you look down you can't help the way your eyes widen at the sight of the slightest sliver of smooth skin peeking out from the space between his lower abdomen and his pelvis. That bright orange fabric was way too low on his hips and you're sure he was aware of it too.

The toned V-line of his was adorned with trails of teasing veins that led to something you swore yourself up and down you didn't want to think about at all. But of course, it's hard not to think about it when you see that heavy tent in his crotch. You always knew Sukuna was... packing but, most times when you'd acknowledged it, you tried to shove the thought away just as quickly as it came.

It's a little hard to do that now when he's standing right in front of you watching you watch him. You don't even realize the way your eyes all but linger there as your lips part and a soft breath ghosts past them.

Then you're speaking your mind without thinking first, “You got… bigger.”

Your eyes are still glued to that outline of something bulky in his pants just before you hear him scoff at your shamelessness and force yourself to look up again. Sukuna's eyes look hungrier now. Shit, that wasn't your intention at all. You're should be kicking him out of your house right now-

“That’s what five years in a cell does to someone, woman," The man drawls, voice a pitch lower already.

One little moment of taking in his appearance and he was already feeling the effect you had on him. Moving your gaze away from his starved one, you resort to studying his now folded arms and how hefty they are tucked over his even broader chest. The tattoos across his skin still seemed as fresh as ever, almost as if not a day had ever gone by.

Clearing your throat and ignoring how hot you start to feel when your mind flashes an image of those same arms around you, “F-Five years in that cell and you still can’t even address me by my-” You're cut off when he looms closer all of a sudden, causing your stammered words to die out in your throat somewhere. He's mute as he draws close and then cranes his head down to your neck, inhaling you sharply. “...What are you doing?” You ask slowly, heart beginning to do that loud thumping thing again.

“You smell like another guy,” Sukuna utters a few inches away from your skin. It was almost as though he could see the scent of someone else on you before he even leaned in like that.

It gave you chills.

Trying to laugh his actions off again, you end up reaching a free hand up to his chest to try and lightly push him away, “What are you, a dog?”

“Woof," wisps out of his lips in a half-joking manner but with the way it slathers against your skin before the tip of his nose replaces the sensation as he zeros in on your neck, you're left struggling with a million and one emotions.

“The fuck…?” You whisper to yourself.

He only chuckles at your reaction, finding it rather cute, “Is that what I have to be to get in your good graces again?" Sukuna asks as his face adjusts to your neck and his teeth graze you, "Some kind of mutt?"

"No," You scoff, "Y-You're never getting in my good graces again." Your hand pushes at him again but even he could tell you don't mean anything by the gesture. Especially considering how you finally place your knife down somewhere behind you.

To which he smiles knowingly, "Oh yeah?"

"...Yeah," You manage out softly, turning your head to try and see what exactly he's doing.

"You don't sound so confident," Sukuna utters into your skin as if to let his words tattoo themselves into the area.

And hey, maybe you didn't sound confident because you weren't. So instead of searching for something new to say to him in response, you fall back on the same thing you've been saying to him for as long as you can remember. Angling your head elsewhere as you scoff a neatly said, "Fuck you."

"You keep saying that," He replies quickly while steadily gliding his head away from your neck and lifting. It's then that you're made well aware of how close he is to you now. Such little distance remains from his face to yours and all it would take is a short lean downwards for his lips to be against yours if either of you wished it so, "And I'm starting to think you want me to." He finishes off bluntly.

You blink out of your temporary daze just then, "What?"

"Fuck you," Your ex-best friend half-way clarifies, "It seems like you want me to fuck you."

"You-," Your words pause whilst your lashes flutter over one another, mind troubling itself trying to wrap around the audacity he seemed to carry after all this time. "You can't set my house on fire, go to jail for it, and then come back to me years later and try to sleep with me," You remind the man as you carry your stern gaze back up onto his, "Time does not equate to an apology, asshole."

Sukuna cocks a brow and bites back a laugh at the sound of that, "Is that what you need from me? A measly little apology?"

You scoff, "No, I don't need one from you but it would be nice-"

"I'm sorry." He says frankly, "Now, what else can I do to make up for it, hm?" His other hand presses behind you and you're trapped between both of his bulky arms before you even realize it, his voice dropping a tone and making the moment all the more intimate, "One thousand, eight hundred, and twenty nine days in which I have not seen nor heard from you and yet," You watch as his head tilts slowly and his eyes cascade down to the curve of yours lips, "You expect me to pry myself away from you?"

"Sukuna," You whisper, feeling almost suffocated in the lack of space between the two of you. Every fiber of his being was swallowing you up by the second and yet no matter how consuming it all felt, you couldn't find it in yourself to want to pull away.

You're unsure why his name even tiptoes past your lips like that when you carry no sort of argument against him any more. Sure, you should hate him now-, you think you still do but, it's hard to consider those emotions when he's so close.

Then his voice sinks another octave and your knees are feeling weak as his words exit him with something sinfully heated behind them, "I have missed you, achingly, for years," Sukuna claims, leaving you intoxicated in everything that pertains to him all over again. The tip of his finger meets your chin and forces your head further up, both of you now looking at the same thing now. "Yet you deny me. Why?" He questions.

You swallow thickly, as if that would lessen your nonexistent will to escape him, "You tried to kill me..." Your voice is meek and you hate every second of it, "Y-You set my house on fire."

The man fights with the smile that nearly broadens itself across his lips, "You remain unharmed."

"What about my home, Sukuna?" You ask in return, seeing as that is the most important thing here second to your well-being. Your tone is a little more sturdy now and he catches onto it, the sound making that undesirable glint in his irises return.

"It has been repaired, I see," He points out comically. After which his hand shifts and he holds the entirety of your jaw in his palm, thumb caressing your skin whilst he leans in and stops juuuust before his lips are on yours, "What more do you want from me?"

Your mouth trembles with the words that ached to leave them, unconsciously longing for the finality that is him kissing you at some point. You hated how in all the time he's been gone you'd done everything but move on and instead worked yourself up to a point so low in being touch-starved that you wanted to whine from the sheer closeness you shared with him alone.

"...Tell me why you did it." You eventually manage to demand from him.

He sighs but his answer is immediate, "You tried to replace me."

"What?" Your brows meet and your eyes shoot up to his, "No I didn't. I-I'd never-,"

"Gojo," Sukuna starts off interruptingly, allowing himself to meet those gorgeous pupils of pure vexing distaste he'd missed oh-so-graciously, "The fireman..."

"You can't be serious," You spat as you barely made an attempt to tug your chin out of his hold.

The effort you make is completely in vain since he only tightens his grip and this time tugs you impossibly closer, your breaths intertwining with one another now. "Forgive me," He demands, lips grazing the skin of yours as he does so.

Your mind halts every thought for a moment. The way he was looking at you alone was enough for you to have forgiven him a long time ago. Hell, you almost forget you were ever even mad with him to begin with. Sputtering, "I-I can't just-"

"Then let me apologize properly," Sukuna cuts off smoothly, words practically seeping out directly into your mouth now.

And all you could do was swallow down each one, completely entrapped in every thread of seductive manipulation he'd woven into you over the years. Your statement is airy as it strings out of you slowly, "You shouldn't even be here."

"I'm here because you need me to be," He protests.

You detest how true that may be but, you lie anyway, "No, I don't."

"Your body betrays your claims," The fugitive points out in the same way he always had whenever he saw directly through you, "Just look at the way you've leaned into my every touch as if you crave it—long for it, even," Sukuna continues on as his lips being to part over your own, ready to capture them in the sweetest, long overdue kiss. "Let me make my amends to you, woman." He requests of you kindly, shortly adding a borderline desperate, "Please."

——

You should never have given to that, really.

You were supposed to keep up with your act of stubbornness and not go back to your old ways of forgiving him no matter how wrong he did you. Yet, like any toxic relationship, you can't seem to find it in yourself to do that at all.

So here you are now, debauched and ruined in front of your own bedroom mirror. Having been put on display by the same man you were supposed to kick out of your home hours ago, you're busy bouncing up and down a looong expanse of his thick inches as he did nothing more than talk you to filth.

“Y’see this? See what’s all mine?” Sukuna rasps hotly against the sensitive shell of your ear, having one of his thick hands settled neatly onto the curve of your hips as he guides you up and down his swollen shaft with no sense of gentleness whatsoever. His other hand busies itself away with your jaw to keep your head facing the mirror just a few inches away from the edge of the bed where the two of you are sat, “Yeahhh, look how pretty she is taking all that cock. Taking all my cock. Uhuh..”

Your pussy is left swallowing up everything he stuffs up into you, singing out sloppy glistens of wetness and slick every time he hits that spot inside you no one else ever has or could before. All whilst your mouth dangles open, gorgeous strings of moans 'n whimpers gliding out of your throat and filling the air of your bedroom—the same bedroom he'd previously heard you talking to so many other guys in.

You never knew it of course; never knew that he had your entire home bugged from top to bottom, always listening to who you talked to and how you spoke to them. So five years ago, that might've been how he'd heard you call Gojo your best friend but, none of that matters much now. You're exactly where Sukuna has wanted you to be all this time.

“Fucked so stupid on it already,” He grunts at the way you're struggling to keep up your rhythm on top of him. “How cute,” Sukuna adds on cooingly, to which your cunt flexes ever so deliciously around his slobbering length.

Everything's a literal mess now.

You've got your neck plastered in spit and bite marks, all from the man who just swore he had to make sure you and anyone else who dare set their eyes on you after this knew you belonged to someone. The two of you have been at it for hours now and at this point you're hoping the police have long since forgotten about searching for him.

At some point you think you should've gone numb from the pleasure he'd given you but instead it was the exact opposite; you just couldn't get enough!

With the way your walls hugged the fat of his cock so snuggly every time he spoke, he couldn't help but carry out his teasing, “No one else has been in here, huh?” He asked, despite already being quite sure of the answer.

From drooly lips, “N-No, Sukuna,” You hardly manage out, especially with the way the wide crown of his cock is just thrashing up against your cervix, leaving the nastiest of kisses all against it so that you'll never forget the feeling, “Jus’ you.."

He smiles proudly at the sound of that and something in his chest swells dangerously. Hips bucking up faster-, harder to rudely knock up against the same place that's been gushing all over every inch of him for fuck knows how long now, "Really? So you were saving this pussy just for me, hm?”

“No,” You try huffing out. Instead, the short word comes out as more of a moan than anything but, all your syllables had been leaving you like that.

Just a few minutes ago he'd had you spread out over your bed and mumbled apologies into your cunt with nasty swirls of his tongue, inscribing every "sorry" into your walls with searing licks and lathers. It was the only time in all this that he'd gone somewhat quiet and instead let your pussy do the talking.

You hardly grasped what transpired from that to now since you're struggling to take everything he's giving you. Hell, you can barely get yourself to sink all the way down to that dark ink he's got wrapped around his cock, having told you that the tattoo there is—apparently—what you're supposed to be reaching with every thrust.

“Feels like you were,” He husks out thickly in between ragged breaths, grin only enlarging itself out across his slicked face, “Look at how sloppy she is around me,” And just as he says that, you're doing nothing more than watching the way your pussy lips drool so stupidly against the angry veins of his dick. To which he snickers into your ear just to tease you some more, “Such a wet lil' thing.”

You can't even control the way your head flops back somewhere against him, hips growing fatigued by the minute and throat hoarse from your pathetic mewls of pleasure, “Hnngh, S-Sukunaa."

The man only tuts before shaking his head a little to get the sweat-soaked pink locks of hair sticking to his forehead to move a bit, taking in the sight of how slovenly the both of you look right now.

With his lips sticking to the sensitive crest of your ear, he whispers ever so tentatively, “Made s’perfect for me,” A praise that only has you drenching the stretching girth that's tucked heavenly inside you, “Aren’t you?”

“M-Mhmm,” You agree instantly, of course. You think you've forgotten how to and the overall desire to deny him a long time ago from now.

Just then you feel a certain twitch spasming against your honeyed walls, causing a lewd squelch to ring out. Sukuna's breath gets even more breathier as his heavy balls ache for the release he's been saving just for you. “Slut,” He calls, almost as if that were your birth given name. “Look at me,” The same strong hand on your jaw forces your head to turn and your eyes meet his dilated pupils, “Can you feel that? Feel what you do to me? What you’ve been doing to me? Hm?”

Just as he asks you all those dirty questions, you feel him rolling the rest of his cock deeper inside you, trying to make that slathered tattoo disappear all the way past your puffy folds already.

“Yes,” You croak pliantly, earning a mocked pout of his kiss-bitten lips.

“Yeah? How do I feel inside there, huh?” He asks, just to earn a soft whine out of your throat instead of proper response. Then he cocks his brow up, “S’good you can’t answer me properly? Poor thing—here," All. of your breath is ripped out of your lungs as he then moves both of his arms down to swoop under your thighs and lift them up and out. Followed by which is him finding the nerve to stand with you in his hold.

You quickly find yourself in a full nelson before you have the time to break out of your cockdrunken state. The drool from your lips drips out onto the floor with soft, nasty splatters that match what's currently leaking all off of his balls and onto the floor.

Oh, the sight is nothing short of pure filth.

But—naturally—Sukuna's not phased by the change of positions in the slightest, "Tell me if this is better for you.” He taunts.

Better for you? As if. You could feel a tingling sensation thrumming all throughout your legs as they reduced to utter mush in his arms, especially as he starts moving. His thick cock dives in and out of your leaking hole, creating the prettiest sounds of nastiness that reverberate throughout the space around you.

Sukuna spreads you out impossibly wider with his rugged, tattooed arms secured too neatly under the plush of your thighs, having you take him fully now. Your hips feel wobbly whilst he hauls you up and down his cock, leaving you to do nothing but sop up everything he slid so thoroughly into you.

You're gasping when his wiiiide cock lodges so suddenly against your sweetest spot, “Kuna’, c-can’t—mmgh! Fuck! M’gonna cum,” You pant heavily, adding on a cute whine of, “S'too much!”

He's kissing somewhere near your neck now but you're too focused on the feel of his weepy head against where you needed him most to realize. Not until he starts that raspy purring against your hot skin, “Again? You like my cock that much?”

“N-No,” You manage to argue playfully, “I just-, mmnh! I-I like the way you fuck me.”

“Oh really?” He scoffs instantaneously, as if offended for a second. “And yet look at this messy pussy," Sukuna directs, causing your attention to shift down at the way you've left the creamiest mess of release all around that dark ink of his. "Crying alll around the same cock she hates.”

“Ohfuck,” You gape, eyes watering up again when he bites down hard at your neck. Something deep in the pit of your stomach felt as though you were bursting and fuck did it feel good.

So good that you're driven straight into overstimulation for the nth time of the night, all while sobbing and pleading for something—though you're not quite sure what for. It's not like you wanted a break by this point, no, no, you were much more interested in him breaking you.

So why does your body start squirming in his arms all over the place as if to escape him? You've no idea.

“Don’t do that,” Sukuna starts scolding you the moment he catches onto it, arms bulging around your folded body and locking you in place, “Take it, since you like the way I fuck. Take it, every fuckin’ inch—none of these-," His head angles up to lick the streaming teardrops off of your cheeks, "Mmh… sweet-, tears. Awh, look at you trying to run from it. S'this too much for my slutty girl?” He sears into you.

“Sukuna, please,” You beg. For what? You're still unsure but by this point you're unsure about everything. The only thing you can think about is the way he feels inside you.

He's still breaking out that smug smile of his, taunting, “Please what?”

“I-I can’t—“ You don’t even know what you were trying to say with the way your mind blanks and you cream around the thick of his cock yet again.

“Shh, shh, listen to her," Sukuna instructs, letting your gasps and cunt become the loudest things in the room. “Y'Hear that? That’s what good sluts sound like when they get fucked right.” He explains to you, talking into your ear once more just to have you spasming all around him for the millionth time. The baritone in his voice gets impossibly heavier in the next second, “Hah, ready to hear how they get bred?”

In response, all you can do is clench around him and manage a lazy, fucked-out nod of your head.

“Ohhh, you are, huh?” He coos.

“Uhuhh,” You babble, “Please ‘Kuna... N-Need it."

A scratchy grunt tumbles up from his throat, “Need what? Say it for me.”

“Cum inside me,” You say fully and almost perfectly for the first time in hours, “Fuck me full.”

He almost does at the sound alone but for some reason, he feels as though he needed to hold out just a little longer. "S'that what you need?" Sukuna huffs, thrusts entirely uneven now with the way his pearly 'n dawdling cockhead thwacked around your insides with no more direct focus, just feral need. "You need my cum inside you?"

"Yes," You weep delightfully.

Your best friend can only manage another, "Fuck, I've missed you so much." at the sound of that. Then he's spilling every globbing rope of cum inside you. His thrusts punctuating to make sure it takes, "Thought about you every. single. day."

"Sukuna," Your head is turning elsewhere again and for some reason he hates that.

So he's rasping a needy, "Look at me," all over again, swallowing down the terribly plead that nearly jumped out of his throat. Masking the near level of patheticness he'd reached, "Now tell me you love me." he demands instead.

Your mind may be a mush of cockdrunk and fucked-stupid but you still carry that same strength to push his buttons one more time, "F-Fuck you,"

Sukuna groans harshly and turns around with you. One second you're held tightly in his hands and the next he's laying you down on the bed flat with a rough grab on your head just to push it against your bedsheets. The next few moans that leave your throat are broken and muffled as he plows into you in yet another new position—prone bone—and driving his fat cock into every quivering crevice of your cunt.

His free hand presses down against the newfound arch in your spine and his dick feels even thicker inside you somehow. Eyes fluttering, you end up giving in without him having to say anything else, "F-Fuck! I love you, 'Kuna..." You sob into the bed.

He tugs your head up by your hair with a sharp pull, "One more time f'me?"

"Hnngh, I l-love you," You whimper.

He chuckles as if he's aware of something you're not, "Oh, I know you do, sweetheart, I know." Then he's leaning down, wide, muscular body caging yours as he speaks carefully, "You're never gonna send me off like that again, right?"

"Never," You're choking now, his hard tip kissing that spot of yours yet again.

"So obedient," Sukuna comments whilst practically spelling his name out into your cunt, "All I have to do is give you some cock for you to obey my every word, huh?"

You're nodding like some idiotic whore now, "Mhmm.."

"What a slut." He scoffs—as if he isn't into it or something—and then lets his eyes glide down your gorgeously ruined body, "My slut though, isn't that right?"

You don't even try to think before speaking. The words easy fall past your lips in a wispy puff, "All yours S'kuna."

"Juuust as I fuckin' thought," He breathes out in return. And then with one last little snicker, his voice dips to something so quiet that you nearly miss the way he finishes off with a softened, "'Love you too, woman."

tags 1/2:

@2linaaeatsfamilies @scarletmoonshine0 @medusamara5 @needtoloveoutloud @lipstainedgemini

@kaofindj @d43dg1rl @mimiluvzu2 @lululemmington @choso-enthusiast

@brefninanami @stay0802 @chosos-prettyprincess @ersharyzst @blubearxy 

@ravenbc @sugarcoatedsoul @jay4luvsya @melancholic-cow @grignardsreagent 

@littlefuzzybabykitty @designerpvssy @chrysaoraa @noyaswrld @anonimedsk 

@matchaabliss @thiscornerofmyfanficbrain @fishosezo @midnightartist @mattsukitty 

@idkstrawbs @kenney7124 @didibxx @st4ryki @aeminrty 

@ifiwereabug @crispycatt @natasaa13 @broimherebcsimboredok @ellkaysdream

@mandistromboli @pussyeaterleah @theuniversesnepobaby @mollysails @ficrepostblog

“Well, I can’t take this anymore,” You argue back, breathing all unevenly against his ear in with that airiness you know he loves. “You’re supposed to go the whole month without cumming but that doesn’t mean don’t touch me at all…”

Your husband scoffs profoundly in your face as his eyes roll. Hands at your hips, he hooks a thumb under the flimsy fabric of your panties and tugs at it, “I’m touching you now.” He points out as he released the fabric and lets it smack! against your skin rudely. “And if you wanted me to get you off all selfishly, you should have just asked instead of pulling this shit.” He grumps.

“I did ask,” You frown in return, flinching from the recent sting. Your hips are rocking methodically back and forth against his lap and you feel yourself getting wetter from the way his cock keeps throbbing up against you, “But you stopped giving me attention.”

Sukuna lets out a low hiss when he starts feeling the slick from your pussy soak up his sweats and through all the layers between you both. “I am trying to avoid making a mess of myself, which requires giving you no attention,” He explains as calmly as he can.

“Well you can’t ignore me like this,” You’re firing right back, lifting your face away from his ear to meet eyes with him.

You thought you were imagining the way his eyes were faintly glossed over but it was clear that the friction against his cock was getting to him. Especially as he lets out a weighty huff.

“Stop.” He mutters, even though his hands are guiding you against his cock now.

All you do is smile and let your head tilt to the side innocently before purring an all too sweet, “That’s not our safe word, Sukuna.” Then you arch forwards and angle your lips down to his neck, making his situation even worse with the way you kiss and bite at him as if you just couldn’t help yourself.

“Fuck,” Slips past his—now drooling—lips before he can even help himself. Sukuna didn’t think a week of no physical contact would have you this needy against him. His grasp on your hips grow tighter, nails digging into your skin as he thrusts up and pulls you down simultaneously. Contrasting his actions with a pouty, “Get off of me.” exiting his throat.

To which you lap your tongue around the spot you just bit on his neck and smile, “Make me.”

Mere seconds later and he’s flipped the two of you over, holding your arms up above your head and grinding his thick cock down against you—making both of you gasp out in sync as he presses into your clit.

The swollen head of his dick is weeping with precum and he’s glaring down at you as if he despised you more than anything. “You’re evil,” Sukuna rasps, the sound lacing with a whine he wished he swallowed down.

Because the moment you hear it, your back is arching up from the couch and your eyes are starting to roll back. Jaw falling open, cunt clenching around nothing, you moan a sweet, “You love it.”

As if proud, your husband sandwiches his body to yours just so he can feel your orgasm wash over you. Tipping down to kiss along your jawline as he whispers, “Damn right I do…”

Now he was slowly grinding against you, giving you enough friction to coax you through your high. He’s too wrapped up in softly kissing you and watching how pretty your face twists up to realize he’s sticking up his boxers with thick loads of cum.

It’s not his fault he loves getting his wife off. This was inevitable for him, really.

You end up snickering at the feeling, “Look, you just lost.” You hum out to him, a nasty slick of release leaving all fabric in between the two of you soiled.

Sukuna lets go of your arms and readjusts his hands down to fully wrap your legs around him. A smug smile pressed at his lips now, “Maybe. But I’ve won something else.”

You scoff confusedly, “And what might that be?”

He’s working your panties to the side before you know it and then you feel something slobbering and hard slip between your folds, “Reminding my slut of a wife what happens after she teases me like this.”

Yeah, consider yourself fucked for the rest of the night (literally).

"Pfft-, what?" You snort, "Suguru, that doesn't even make sense-"

"Mmgh, y'know what, I'm not even mad at losing that stupid challenge," He claims in the middle of him stretching his limbs a bit, though his face totally said otherwise. "Jus' wish all that went into you instead."

You feel his hands snaking over to pull your warm body back against his and the feeling makes your expression shift from something smug to something intrigued. After all, ever since your boyfriend had been trying to go through with this stupid challenge, you'd been missing out on his touches and attention too.

Hence why you're all but purring an almost needy, "S'not too late, y'know."

His brows instantly shoot up excitedly, "Yeah?"

At least he was getting something out of his loss.

A couple minutes later and he's solidifying that loss via pulling those gorgeously soaked panties of yours to the side and squeezing the fat of his cockhead in between your lathering folds. His breath meets the crook of your neck and the way he groans while sliding into you let's you know he was never gonna make it through this entire month anyway.

Even while the two of you take things slow and lazily fuck one another in the middle of the night, you can't help but tease him still, "Can't believe you-, mmnh.. came in your sleep, though..."

Suguru's prodding head kisses up against your cervix as his lips press against the crown of your ear, "Wouldn't be the first time, gorgeous."

You moan deliciously and his cock throbs against your drooling walls. "Really? You do that often?" You ask softly.

To which your boyfriend's hand comes around to roll two fingers around your clit with quickened circles, smiling now. "When I'm dreamin' about you?" He asks rhetorically before his hips press forward and he groans heavily, "Yeahh, all the fuckin' time."

Zombie!Choso who lets out another string of almost pained groans and grunts as he inches closer. The sluggish movement of his limbs have you sliding down to sit on the floor as if that would help you escape him.

Zombie!Choso who comes to a full stop when he looks down at you and the way you’re trembling in—what seems to be—fear. Something in him appears to be clinging onto what’s left of his humanity as the look on his face shifts. While you’re squeezing your eyes shut and waiting for him to tear into your flesh, hoping for a quick death, you’re thrown off by the whine he lets out.

Zombie!Choso who doesn’t talk clearly. Everything that leaves his throat is rasped and broken, hardly even audible to your human ears. Even so, you hear a low grumble of your name and when you look up, his slouchy, rotten gaze is pleading as it meets yours, “Aagh..” Then you redirect your gaze and see it stitched ‘n patched up fingers tapping at the edge of his torn pants.

Something along the lines of ‘it hurts’ croaks past his fleshy mouth and it’s followed by another inaudible set of dialogue. You just barely catch the way he asks for your help. Eyes widening and excitement growing quickly, your body leans forward as your knees hit the floor with a soft thud. “You want my help?” You’d asked him, wiping the once fearful tears away from your cheeks.

Zombie!Choso who nods his head at you and shows that your friend was still somewhere in there. Then you’re looking forwards and carefully bringing your hands up to give his pants a gentle half-tug. It quickly falls off of his body with fluttering peels of fabric.

He starts groaning again, this time in approval when his fat, aching cock springs out in front of your face. Your mouth waters at the way that seems to be the only part of his body that’s not rotted. All pinked and flushed with hot need, his dick curves upwards slightly before he brings his it into his palm and lightly taps you on your face with it.

You let off a moan and bite back a whorish smile. You shouldn’t be into this as much as you were but fuck, he was hot. Even in death! Plus, you just wanted to help him out a bit. His entire body looked painful and yet the only thing he (groggily) asked you to do was suck him off.

Zombie!Choso who grunts longingly when his plump tip slides over your lips, smearing… precum? over it all sloppily. You’re not even sure how that’s possible but, again, it seems he only had one body part that was fully functional in a human like fashion. Hell, it was so functional that you feel the way it throbs against your tongue once you open your mouth for him.

Then Zombie!Choso moves his tether-gloved hands to the sides of your pretty head and holds you still as he instinctively rolls his hips forward.

The first thrust into your mouth lets you lap your tongue against the underside of his pulsing cock, each vein feeling very much alive in your mouth. When you give him that initial firm suck, the inhumane parts inside him immediately kick in and then he’s growling like some kinda animal—hips bucking forward and grip tightening on your skull with monstrous strength.

“Mmmgh,” He groans hoarsely enough for your thighs to squeeze together. One of your hands come up to steady yourself as he begins to glide his thick shaft in and out of your gaping mouth. The deeper his wet head kisses inside your throat, the more you start to gag around him, and he takes that as encouragement.

Zombie!Choso who’s rough with the way he fucks his cock into your mouth, leaving slick dribbles of drool spilling out the corners of your mouth. It quickly gets to the point of your nose constantly bumping into those dark hairs he has decorating his base as your lips bulge around him.

Then his hand shifts over to the back of your head and his other palm slams into the wall somewhere above you as he uses your head to ease the lust thrumming all throughout his length. Your eyes slowly begin to narrow as tears prick the corners from how rough he’s being.

“Mhmm,” He starts humming deeply, “M-Mmngh.. aaughh..”

Zombie!Choso who ends up cumming all inside the warm walls of your mouth, fleshy cock felt pumping the thick filth out against your tongue. As he does so, you look up and see the way his head is lazily angled to the side, sly grin tugging at the non-decaying side of his mouth as he finally manages a fully-understandable, “Swallow it.”

And swallow it you do. Happily.

A federal crime in itself to be that obliviously divine at all times. And the worst part about it? You’ve got one big flashy rock decorating your pretty ring finger, one Ino noticed as you lathered yourself in a lotion he’s sure smells like liquified heaven. 

Any sensible person would’ve quickly looked away the moment they realized you weren’t wearing anything but for some reason, Ino just couldn’t tear his eyes away. And who could blame him? It’s not his fault you decided to walk around naked in your home with the blinds left wide open…

As such, there he stood at his window all wide eyed and slightly slack-jawed. It was evening time so, the sun was making its downcast journey and due to that and the angle of these neighboring houses, the fleeting sunlight cast such a beautiful warm glow on your body. You seemed so clueless that it didn’t take much staring for Ino to snap out of his daze.

Quickly pulling his curtains shut and taking a shaky inhale of air into his lungs, the man tried to shake the vivid image of you out of his mind. You were clearly an older woman, as pulchritude as they come, and married above all else so, it was beyond disrespectful and perverted of him to stare the way he did just now. It’s unlike him too, normally women have the tendency to make him nervous but you? You sparked something within him that day.

——

A week later and it gets worse. 

Ino’s only ever truly looked up to one person all throughout his life; Nanami Kento. Now, Nanami is one of the head executives of the company Ino works for and all he’s ever wanted to do was work his way up into being that man’s assistant. He’s had the opportunity of being in meetings and working on some team projects with him but, he’s always idolized Nanami and now he was learning that he lives next door?

Just what are the odds that the husband of the neighboring hot woman just so happens to be Nanami of all people? Ino swears the world is against him because he’s only been living in this neighborhood for no longer than two weeks or so and he went most of that time completely unaware of his idol—if you will—living right next door.

The day he finds out is when he comes home from work a tad bit earlier than normal, having almost crashed his vehicle into his mailbox due to the cliche display of you washing a car out in the center of your long driveway. Ino had unconsciously been waiting to lay eyes on the man who gets to come home to all that every night ever since the day he saw you naked.

Luckily for him, today was the day. 

Ino eventually parked his car into his driveway, slightly stumbling out just to place his greedy eyes on you again. Almost frantically was his gaze landing on you, spotting your beautiful frame all bent against the hood of some luxury vehicle (he hadn’t the mind to note what kind at the moment), arm stretched out to the windshield as you thoroughly cleansed the glass, and chest adorned with soapy bubbles ‘n water that glossed against your skin and sparkled beneath the beaming sun.

It’s the middle of October and while it should be way too cold for you to be doing such an activity, you didn’t seem to bat an eye despite being doused in water and soap. Even as a chilly breeze brushed over, he didn’t see you shiver not once.

Your clothing hugged every inch of you seeing as the water allowed the fabrics to stick to your skin like glue. You worked while being so gorgeously soaked, bending and stretching all over your vehicle enough for Ino to catch a glimpse of the lacy blue bra you’ve got on under your top. 

A thick swallow was warranted from him at the full presentation of you. It was as though you got even sexier with clothes on. The sensual sway of your hips and your chest as you pressed further against that soapy hood and scrubbed away at the glass until it was sparkly clean had the poor guy unable to move his feet toward his front door for a hot minute.

It wasn’t until he saw something or, someone moving within his peripherals that his body remembered how to function. Though, the second he flicks his gaze over to the person approaching you, Ino chokes on his own breath. 

It’s Nanami. Dressed in something more homely than Ino’s ever had the pleasure of gawking at, the tall blond man comes out of his home and casually strides over to you, facial expression void of any surprise at seeing you all arched over the hood of your car. Ino’s feet are slowly moving now, making a small attempt at getting toward his front porch and hopefully inside his house before he’s caught staring but, he unfortunately trips over his own feet when he sees Nanami approach you with a shameless slap to your ass and a brief kiss.

His stumbling catches the blond man’s attention from across the way and earns a glance from both you and your husband. 

Oh, he’s screwed now. Ino tells himself, trying to regain both his posture and his composure all at once as he gives his beanie a slight tug down with an aversion of his eyes. Then he’s got a hand fumbling into the pockets of his baggy pants in search of his keys, only for the damn thing to fly to the ground as he tries to tug it out. Just his luck, huh.

When he crouches down to swipe the keys—and maybe his bubbling embarrassment—up off of the ground, the sound of his name could be heard by that stoic voice he adores so much. Glancing over, he makes eye contact with Nanami again and he can feel his heartbeat picking up as the older man does nothing more than raise his hand to wave. 

Awkward as ever, Ino throws his hand up in response and just when he thinks this embarrassment is about to come to a long overdue end, up goes your hand along with a beaming smile that makes his entire body twitch.

You were so gorgeous that it hurt. God, it hurt so good to look at you.

And the cherry on top? The two young girls that come running out of the house as if they’d been trailing behind Nanami giggling and squealing adorably before rushing over to you and hugging your legs. Ino couldn’t hear the conversation from where he was but he did get the chance to take in the sight of a relatively lovely family.

Y’know, Nanami—his idol—you—the woman he’d developed a minor crush on—and two little girls that look exactly like both of you! It was adorable really. The kinda sight that should turn a normal person off from having any type of crush on a woman who’s clearly happy in her marriage and with her children.

And yet… Ino feels something blossom in his chest. He’s not a homewrecker of any sort but damn did the sight of you mothering your two girls do something to him. Before spending any more time standing outside and watching like some creep, Ino quickly turns back to his door and makes haste in getting inside his home.

He can’t keep ogling you. That’s disrespectful to Nanami.

——

So, rightfully, Ino does everything in his power to avoid the two of you within the next few days. 

Everytime he steps outside, he keeps his glances over at your house to a minimum, acts like an awkward loser whenever he does happen to run into you and you wave at him or try to speak to him, and even drags out his commute home just to avoid getting there at the same time Nanami does. 

And yet, the world can’t help but fuck him and all his attempts to avoid you two over. How? Well, one weekend there’s a soft knock on his door and when he opens it—thinking it’s probably a delivery or something of the sort—he’s pleasantly surprised to see you standing there. 

Now, Ino hasn’t had one full conversation with you outside of a simple hi or hello and yet, here you are with the cutest smile on your face and eyes that ooze interest. 

Blinking a few times to make sure he isn’t imagining the way you’re standing in front of him with a warm dish in your hands, “Mrs. Nanami?” Ino breathes out as if this were genuinely a dream. 

Your eyes seem to light up twice as much as he addresses you, the softening of your smile causing his heart to do backflips in his chest. “Oh, so you do know my name,” You say all sweetly in a tone that coaxes his inward desire to be in Nanami’s shoes. He’d give anything to hear that sound all day long.

Ino has never been more conflicted about a person in his life.

Whether or not he wanted Nanami or wanted to be Nanami was a mystery but, he was feeling something in between that. 

You watch him lift a hand up to his face to clear his throat and make his voice a bit more sturdy to conceal his nerves, “Of course I do.” Ino replies, “I uh, I work for your husband.”

Nodding, “I know!” You exclaim all cheerfully. Now he’s questioning why you assumed he didn’t know who you were if you understood he-, “You’ve just been avoiding me these past few days so I wondered if I’d made myself that much of a stranger to you.” You add, derailing his entire train of thought.

Oh. So you’d noticed his recent evasions? Quickly taken aback by your words, he clears his throat—though it comes out as more of a sudden cough—and then tries to open his mouth to work out some sort of reply to that.

Unfortunately, you only interrupt him again.

“Takuma—can I call you Takuma?” You begin with his name, the sound is so natural on your tongue that he’s forgetting you’re a married woman with two kids for a second. Then, after he gives you a soft nod of his head, you extend the pan of food in your hands out to him, “I brought this over to officially welcome you to the neighborhood! I’ve been trying to do this but, you kept running off before I could,” That last statement of yours comes out with a short chuckle before you add, “Kento speaks so highly of you that I really started to think I’d done something wrong or—”

“N-No, no, you’re fine,” Ino interjects quickly in an attempt to kill that thought immediately. You’d done everything but something wrong towards him. “Thank you,” He says, taking the pan of food from you and peeking under its top to try and see what it is.

Before he could, you’re leaning forward. The movement is sudden, quick—like you didn’t even think before doing so—and then your hand is coming over his as your eyes peer upwrds, “Hey, don’t open it now, it’s a surprise!”

Ino blinks, looking down at your hand over his and then back up at your face. His body feels hot and all you did was put your hand on him! One touch from you and he was gulping thick nerves down again. He knows he gets nervous around women but this was different. Not only that, the way you mentioned how Nanami—the Nanami—speaks highly of him has him reeling.

Clearing his throat again, Ino adjusts his feet against the ground a little to give his body some sort of easing on the tension he was fighting with. “Ah, okay, yes ma’am.” He rushes out to you.

His politeness seems to have a lightbulb going off in your head for a moment and you very slowly remove your touch from him. “Good. Now, if you ever need anything—and I mean anything at all—don’t be afraid to come knock on my door, okay?” You offer all of a sudden.

Staring at you as if you’d just spoken a language foreign to him, Ino’s left with a suddenly dry throat and an annoyingly heated body. He might’ve been a little delusional but, you did flirt with him just now, right? 

Ino replies to you with another nod of his head and that’s when you finally motion to leave, giving him a little wave before walking off towards your house. He blinks a couple more times and then looks down at the pan in his hands. Just now, it dawned on him that you said this was supposed to be a surprise. 

When he takes it inside, he doesn’t waste any more time in opening it to find that it’s a pan of food that looks as though it were made from the heart. Now, he knows you said this was to welcome him into the neighborhood but he can’t help but feel as though this were a little more personal than that.

——

That feeling of his quickly turns out to be right as a couple weeks fly by. 

Every weekend, you’d pop up at his doorstep with a plate of food. Each time, there was a sweet smile that never failed to leave him overly nervous and hardly able to think properly. Ino doesn’t know why you do this but, he doesn’t decline the routine you both quickly fall into. Nanami is never with you—nor do you mention him much whenever you stop by—but that’s the least of his concerns.

His true worries lie in why you keep bringing him food. Surely you’re just trying to be nice but he doesn’t see you do this with any other neighbor and each week, you progressively get him to talk more as if that were your end goal in this whole thing.

By the fourth week of bringing him food, things change.

For the past three prior to this, the two of you have gradually had longer—but simple—conversations on his front porch and gotten to know one another just a tad bit more. Ino is now aware that you work from home and you’re usually spending most of your time with your two girls, and you now know he’s working hard to get promoted.

The relationship between you two was never anything inappropriate outside of his occasional deluded moments where he mistook your kindness for flirting.

But today? Oh, he didn’t mistake anything. No, no, you were quite bold with your flirting.

When you bring food over for him, it’s usually sometime in the afternoon—Ino knows this because the setting sun always compliments your frame just right on his doorstep—and he’s always excited to see what new dish you’ve got for him.

On this particular evening, he decided to take an early shower thinking he could be in and out before you showed up. Unfortunately, he was only halfway through a cliche shower performance to his imaginary crowd before he’d heard his doorbell ring. 

Ino rushed out of his bathroom and didn’t even bother to put on clothes or dry any part of himself off. Much too eager to see you, he’d lazily wrapped a towel around the slim of his hips and made his way to the front door. Swinging it open, he’s met with the sight of you standing there with… no dish in your hands?

Blinking once-, twice to make sure he’s not going crazy, Ino lets his eyes run over you a couple times before he cracks a small smile, “You’re early.” He points out. And technically, you were.

The setting sunlight angled a bit higher against your body than normal but, that could have been because of the gloomy clouds beginning to decorate the sky. Even so, it did feel like you were a few minutes earlier than usual.

You merely shrug before saying, “And you’re naked.”

Then Ino watches-, no, feels how you look him up and down slowly as if he were a piece of meat and you weren’t literally married. Given that he’s fresh out of the shower, you watched the way fall’s cool breeze brushed over him and caused him to shiver faintly as it wipped the clinging steam off of his body. Water shimmered against his lean figure and clung to the outline of his shoulders. 

Your eyes were everywhere; trailing the droplets that chased one another in a downwards race against his skin, the way the light behind you caught against him and made his body glisten rather sinfully, and how the towel was far too low on his hips. You couldn’t help but stare at the sexily carved V-line that trailed down into the obstructing white fabric wrapped around him.

Its edges were damp and you felt mesmerised watching his hips sway to the side a bit as he shifted over to lean against the frame of his door—arms crossing over his chest. When you do look up again, it’s not at his face quite yet but his arms. Water is still dripping off of him and you never quite realized just how alluring the man before you was until now.

Or rather, you did realize it but you weren’t expecting such a handsomely lean physique to have been hidden from your hungry eyes for so long.

Chuckling nervously—as he typically did with you—Ino moves a hand to the back of his head to scratch, his fingertips brushing against the soaked ends of his brown hair, “Sorry, I didn’t want to leave you waiting out here for too long. But,” He pauses, looking down to your empty hands again before his brows pinch together, “You uh, you didn’t bring me anything…?”

You finally manage to snap out of your drooling daze for a second long enough to look up into his eyes. Ino was taller than you but a bit shorter than Nanami and usually when the two of you meet eyes, he doesn’t hold it for long before glancing elsewhere. You were well aware of how intimidated he seemed to be by you, despite your bubbling kindness.

Yet, today’s recurring theme seems to be a series of surprises.

Ino’s eyes, a warm sepia hue that you found quite pleasant to look into, are now the steadiest you’ve ever seen them. Set lowered on yours and almost needy as if he drank in any and all motions or syllables that vacated your very being. 

You’re the one looking away for a second as you pinch the fabric of your shirt in between your fingers to distract yourself from how intently he was staring at you. 

Then you sigh, “I actually wanted to invite you over tonight…” You say with an intentionally looong pause in between that statement and the next, “For dinner.” He watches your attention steadily drag itself back over to him before you step closer, just a fraction, “The girls are at their grandparent’s place for the weekend and Kento’s gonna be home late. I didn’t wanna eat alone, y’know?”

Your reasoning made complete sense if he’s being honest with himself here but something was telling him to go against this and politely decline you. Not only were your kids not home but apparently your husband wouldn’t be there until late? This meant it’d only be you and Ino alone in your house for god knows how many hours. That’s the kinda temptation a logically thinking and respectful man in his situation should decline.

Unfortunately for Ino, he was never the strongest soldier and the word no or any sort of decline to your lovely invitation is nowhere to be found within his mind. As your eyes rake back over to his face and you watch thick droplets of water flick off of his wet hair, you pick up on the faint upward curve in his lips before he says, “Yeah, I get you.” Though his mind is currently wracked with a guilt that spurs from simply talking about doing such a thing, “I can be over in the next hour or two, if that’s alright with you?”

You start nodding, running your gaze over the scar stretched out against the side of his forehead—his left, your right—and letting out a little hum at the sight. Most of the time when you saw Ino, he’d have a beanie on his head that left such a blemish covered but given that he’s recently out of the shower, almost everything was on full display for you. And boy were you soaking up every little detail by the minute.

“That’s perfect!” You chime as another pleased smile plastered itself over your features. Then, the two of you say your goodbyes for the time being and he waves as you turn around and stroll back to your home.

Watching you every step of the way, Ino finally lets out a very weighted breath of air he hadn't been aware he was holding in until now. All you did was invite him over for dinner, nothing crazy.

Being alone with you in your house for a little while wasn’t gonna kill him in the end.

…Right?

——

Ino moved around his home with gentle urgency as he prepared himself for the very normal dinner he was about to have with you.

He cycled through way too many outfits, trying to decide what sweater would have you not  looking at him as if you wanted to sink your teeth into him like you’d done earlier.

Though, he’ll soon come to realize that his choice of clothing matters little when your attraction towards him is so bluntly shown. 

About an hour and a half flies by and before he knows it, he’s standing outside your door fidgeting like crazy and trying to fight the sweat building up against the back of his neck. He’d already knocked a couple times and now he was waiting for you to open the door. Everything felt slow, too slow, almost as if he wasn’t supposed to be here.

And when your door finally swings open and his eyes sink to the very low-cut top you’ve got on, pounds of guilt lumps onto his shoulders and he begins to regret this instantly. There’s no way in hell he’s gonna be able to survive this dinner with you comfortably without feeling as though he was being a home-wrecker through merely looking at you.

It wasn’t just that you were an attractive woman who was married to his favorite person on earth but, you’re exactly his type.

It’s supposed to be dinner, nothing more. Neighbors share meals with one another all the time, adults are fully capable of talking for a prolonged period of time without it being anything more, and yet, jaw is taut now that he’s looking at you again.

“You’re right on time,” You start off, stepping back and widening your door to give him enough room to walk in. Even as he foots past you and his arm oh-so-faintly skims against you unintentionally, you’re quick to notice how uneasy he seems to be. “Everything’s fresh off the stove.”

Then, while he drives himself to the side to remove his shoes, he hears you shut and lock the door behind him.

He’s just here to eat and give you some company—a thought of which is constantly ringing throughout his mind to keep him from going utterly mad.

“Oh and, Kneto told me to tell you he’s sorry he’s running a little late,” You add on all of a sudden.

Ino’s brows shoot up and he glances over his shoulder to watch you pace off into your kitchen. So, Nanami knew he was here? You weren’t going behind your husband’s back to spend time with him like he’d so heavily feared? Actually, this dinner was originally supposed to be the three of you??

The very thought makes Ino’s head spin. Sitting at a table with you and Nanami sounds like a recipe for disaster towards his bodily functions. He’d be a stuttering mess if something like that were to ever happen.

But, with your words, his guilt is chipped away now that your invitation feels less like something done in secrecy.

The following events flow pretty smoothly from here on out.

You guide him into your kitchen once he’s removed his shoes and coat, showing him all sorts of dishes you’ve made, and suddenly, he feels less on edge. Perhaps tonight will go without a hitch after all. 

“You’re not disappointed that Kento’s not here, are you?” You ask him whilst you both set the table for one another—him following your lead most of the way through.

Ino’s ears seem to perk up at every mention of your husband but you’ve been pretending not to notice it. “Hm? No, of course not. I understand that he’s a busy man, so it’s fine.” Ino replies simply, keeping his eyes down on the utensils he’s currently placing onto the dinner table, “Why do you ask?”

For a simple dinner with a neighbor, things were feeling oddly domestic…

“Ah, well, I’ve noticed a few things about you, Takuma.” Oh shit, you caught on to the way he’s been unable to keep his eyes off of you for the past few minutes he’s been here, haven’t you? Or perhaps you somehow sensed how guilty he felt about this even though he’s not doing anything to warrant such an emotion… yet. Or maybe-, “You really admire him, don’t you?”

His lashes bat and the knife he was setting down falters until it hits the table with a soft clatter that’s louder than he wanted it to be, “Huh?” Ino respires, head flying up and eyes quickly flocking over to you. “I mean, yes, of course I do. E-Everyone does, I’m sure.”

You’re just about done with the area of the table you’d been setting and now you’re slowly easing your way closer to him. Humming, “Mmmh, perhaps,” before you approach his side and lean a little closer, “But not as much as you, right?”

That heat that keeps coming and going throughout Ino’s body returns tenfold as you stand directly next to him. He could smell your perfume and how pleasant it was to his senses. The lessened proximity made it hard to think-, hell, even hard to breathe. And above it all, the guiltiness he wanted so badly to go away returned again. Gulping, “I–”

“Yes or no, Takuma," Your body tips to the side so that his eyes couldn't stray away from yours. Then, you offer him some kindness through a comforting grin, “It’s a simple question.”

“Yes ma’am,” Comes stumbling past his lips as if he were possessed, the polite and well-mannered agreement so natural to leave him when directed towards you.

“There you go,” You purr in response. After which, you're finally turning away from him to go get the food, and he feels the strain in his anxiety begin to dissipate. “So I’m right, you do really admire my husband!” Your voice elevates so that he doesn't miss your words and although you don’t see it, Ino’s nodding his head while he searches his mind for what to say in response.

“I do,” He calls back to you honestly, adjusting a couple more things against the table to make sure his area matches yours before he pulls out both your chair and his own.

It’s quiet for a moment whilst you start moving stuff from the kitchen to the dining room and although Ino wanted to help, you’d insisted that you didn’t need any and made him feel even more domesticated around you.

As the minutes ticked by, he truly started to feel like a husband of some sort. The way you carried the food out and placed it onto the table in front of him like it was all made specifically for him had his heart doing those stupid jumps in his chest again.

He was definitely overthinking everything but, he really couldn’t help it!!

You were a little too sweet with him. Not that he didn’t like it, though. It just made this deep, dark part of him wish that he was really your husband instead of—

“You should tell him that, y’know,” Your voice eventually cuts through both the air and the war of his thoughts, shaking them away from wherever they’d been going.

He watches you bring out the last dish and then sit down next to him, a small sigh skating past his lips as he asks, "I should?"

Your response is immediate, “Mhm, he loves to hear that kinda thing from people,” You explain whilst taking a napkin and splaying it out over your lap. You were so poised and almost elegant in a way that made Ino’s envy of the man he so very admires, deepen. Then you send him the look that causes his hips to twitch in his seat, “Makes him feel more accomplished.”

Ignoring what’s stirring up already, “I’m sure he feels accomplished enough,” Ino compliments lightly while he scratches the back of his neck, “I mean, look at you—“ He quickly cuts himself off with a cough to correct himself, “—Your house, the cars, your kids, hah… he has everything a man could ever want…”

The tone of his voice almost gives away his conflicted feelings but he hopes you don’t notice it (you do).

Kind smile remaining, “Yeah? You think so?” You snicker, leaning forward to rest your chin against your knuckles as your elbow props up near the table’s edge.

“Mhm,” Ino hums lazily. That quickly earns a cock of your brow and he immediately feels a stiffness in his spine. As if trained to speak better, “Y-Yes ma’am.” comes out in a much more respectful pitch.

Thankfully, the conversation becomes lighter-, fluffier within the next couple of minutes. The room around him feels less tense and every word that exits your throat comes across softer. Perhaps it was because the conversation had slipped into something inherently slower, involving topics of work, how his past few weeks in the neighborhood had been so far, and even the weather. 

The usual awkwardness you’d noted him to carry returns but you seem pleasantly amused by every second of it. The most that made his heartrate spike up again would be the touches you leave against his arm whenever he makes you laugh.

Ino doesn’t think he does it intentionally—y’know, utter something funny in hopes of feeling your palm against his bicep—but it happens anyway and before he realizes it, he finds himself enjoying it.

If he was going to have any sort of guilty pleasure in getting to know you and spending all this time alone with you, it was going to be your lingering little touches that were rather harmless in the long run. Sure, it gave the guy a rush of adrenaline and perhaps something below twitched when your fingers gave him a slight squeeze but, it was all innocuous.

“You’re a lot younger than I thought you were,” You’re heard saying as the two of you now talk in between the diminutive bites of food you both had been taking in courtesy of dragging this dinner out a little longer.

“Am I?” Ino asks rhetorically with quirked up brows, “I’m only a few years younger than Nanami.” He adds, wondering why you’d mentioned his age in the first place.

One of your hands lifts to wave as your head tilts and that look is sent over to him again, “Oh, I know.”

The viewing of your eyes felt as though you were reaching into his soul, as if you could see every thought running throughout his mind. Ino had never felt so exposed to someone through nothing more than a sheer glance and yet here he was. 

He swallows leisurely, “That’s not a bad thing though, is it?”

“Not at all! You just have this constant look on your face that reminds me of how Kento used to look at me,” You explain.

At first your words make him relax but then he replays them in his head, chews through another short bite of food, and meets your eyes with perplexity raging though his own, “Used to…?”

Your eyes roll softly, “Way back when he was crushing on me really hard,” You clarify with a laugh at the reminiscent memory, “Was’ super shy about his feelings but acted like he was sooo direct with them later on.”

Ino titters before he catches on to what you’re saying, “Wait, and you said I’m looking at you like that?” Fuck. You knew about the coming and going of his crush on you, didn’t you?

“Yep,” You express shortly with a dramatic pop of the p at the end of the word. “It’s cute though, I like it.”

And it was in times like this where he wondered if Nanami was aware you behaved this way. All these lingering, heated gazes, the subtle teasing, the comparison to your own husband—who he’s sure is rightfully and hopelessly in love with you—and even your body language occasionally had Ino concerned for the status of our relationship with that man.

Yet, his concern was always diminished quickly when he was reminded of the pretty ring still wrapped around your finger. That, and the way Nanami always came home to you every day—not that Ino had noted this down in his head or anything like that, of course.

Like now, for example as the two of you hear a sound coming from your front door before it swings open and you both turn your heads to see the man in question walking in. Early. Ino wonders why you told him the man would be late if–

Oh yeah, that’s right, normally Nanami’s probably here before you’ve sat down for dinner so—essentially—this is late. For him, anyway.

You and Ino watch as Nanami quietly tugs off his coat and kicks his shoes off by the door. The tall blond had yet to utter a word and even though he’d only just entered the house, something about it felt unnerving. 

Ino’s anxiety is now skyrocketing by the mere presence of the person he’s been idolizing for as long as he can remember. It’s not like he’s never been in the same room with the man but, even so, that doesn’t make seeing him in person any less nerve-wracking. 

You’re the first to move, making an attempt to stand up out of your seat and head over to greet your husband but when he raises a hand and signals you to stay where you are, you do exactly that. Not without a slight pout tugging at your lips, though.

It was clear Nanami was getting home from something stressful and while you weren’t quite sure what exactly had caused such stress, you hoped you’d be able to ease it quickly before he takes that out on the guest you’ve decided to have over tonight.

The sound of his careful, yet heavy footsteps fill the tense air as Nanami paces toward the dining room and heads straight for you. As soon as he’s close enough, your eyes are lifting to his face and you’ve still got a frown on yours, “You told me you were gonna be late and yet you’re-, mmh!” You’re swiftly cut off as your husband’s hand reaches your jaw and tugs your face upwards so that he can bend down and kiss you deeply as if he hadn’t done so in ages.

Swallowing up the sound of your surprised hums like a man starved and kissing you greedily like Ino wasn’t sitting just a few inches away from you, your hand eventually meets his chest and you give him a lighthearted push of protest.

Mumbling, “K-Kento!” between his constant kisses that leave your lips wet with affection and your mind temporarily dazed from how weighty his need seemed to exude off of him, “We have company…”

A low grunt rustles against his throat before he tilts his head and keeps your jaw tight within his grasp, searing into your mouth with a husky, “I know.”

Only a few seconds had passed since your husband had gotten home and yet your thighs were clamping together desperately already. You had no idea why he was acting this way but, you weren't exactly complaining. You never minded the way Nanami shows off how much he loves you in front of someone else but it did feel a little awkward considering Ino was left to watch.

Well, at any point he could’ve looked away and returned to his food but, he physically couldn’t tear his gaze away. Not with the way nanami was sucking your lips in between his teeth, nibbling over them for a moment before skillfully swatting his tongue into your mouth and shamelessly moaning into the connection.

Just as you were squeezing your thighs together to stifle your arousal, Ino found his hips shifting helplessly against his seat. This was by far the hottest thing he’d ever had the pleasure of looking at and it was just two people kissing in front of him. Part of him felt like a creep for sitting there and watching but it wasn’t until he felt his cock begin to swell up against his sweats that he snatched his gaze away.

Did that help? No, not at all.

The sounds of Nanami possessively making out with you were almost more erotic than the sight of it had been. Wet smacks and hungry grunts spilled out into the air and there was no other noise to distract him or his cock from it.

It doesn’t take much more for him to have to sneak a hand down and readjust his sweats given the way he’s started to stick against his boxers. God, this was embarrassing for him. A married couple couldn’t even kiss normally in front of him without him getting turned on? What kinda person was he becoming?

When Nanami finally pries away, he’s whispering, “You should really check your phone, my love.”

Your eyes are left all low and dazed, lips left kiss-bitten and slightly slicked with saliva before you hurriedly wipe them off and shake yourself out of it. “Oh, did you text me?” You ask.

Nanami’s got his thumb playing with your bottom lip as he stares at it, “Multiple times, yes.” Then he stands up straight and looks at Ino, who flinches from the sudden attention. Cracking the same warm smile you usually give him, Nanami tilts his head a little, “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”

Caught off guard by the question, Ino’s brows furrow for the nth time today and he’s speaking without thinking. “Very,” He answered with a quick glance to the thumb at your lips. Everything the two of you did was so unbelievably hot that it had Ino wondering if the two of you would maybe let him sit and just watc–

Your husband cocks a brow at Ino’s answer and he’s quick to clarify, “W-With all due respect, of course.” Ino appends.

To which the older man laughs and shakes his head before letting go of your chin, stepping away, and then disappearing off around the corner.

You wave your hand, “Don’t mind him,” You tell Ino, “He may seem like a big scary guy sometimes but I promise you, beneath all that is a big ole softie.”

“Right…” The brunet replies steadily.

Then he watches you fish for your phone and scroll through something on the screen that has your expression twitching. He doesn’t know what you were looking at but based on the way Nanami just made out with you and told you that you should’ve checked your phone, Ino can only assume there’s something rather explicit on the device.

With a clearing of your throat, “Well, that, amongst other things….” you add after going through your phone and flipping it upside down as you place it onto the table. You hoped it wasn’t obvious but, your face was beyond flushed after the many messages of pure need your husband had been sending you within the past hour.

If you weren’t soaked from the kiss he just gave you then you damn sure are now after opening the picture of the stout tent in his slacks he’d sent you—telling you how he needed you to take care of him once he got home, no matter who you had over.

“What?” Ino expels, trying to figure out whether or not he’d heard you correctly.

Ignoring him, you reach over the table for a tray of food that hasn’t been touched yet, “Oh, here,” You redirect, “Try this next!”

And with that, the two of you resume dinner together.

——

Despite Nanami being home now, he doesn’t accompany the two of you at the table for a long while. Even though you have an inkling as to why that is, Ino’s still sitting there with an annoying boner and a lot of confusion.

Was Nanami not going to join the two of you after all? Had Ino interrupted something between the two of you by being here? Should he be leaving soon to give you guys some privacy or–

As always, his train of thought gets disrupted.

This time it’s by the sound of approaching footsteps. You’re in the middle of talking about your daughters and something about how weekends like this are rare for you and Nanami but Ino can hardly focus on what you’re saying when his peripherals pick up on the man passing through the dining room to enter the kitchen.

He seems to be a bit more refreshed now but, he’s still not out of his work clothes and an expression of frustration is still tightly knit into his sharp features. While Ino’s distracted and you’re busy yapping away, you catch the lack of his focus on you mid-sentence and just stop talking.

As you go nonverbal, Ino brings his gaze onto you again and his heart sinks into his ass.

You don’t look upset at the fact that he was lowkey ogling your husband but, you look intrigued by it. No, not even-, this was something more than that. Something deep and longing like a strong rush of desire had coursed throughout your eyes and was now being directed onto him. 

Ino’s gulp is loud enough for Nanami to hear from the kitchen. He doesn’t get to break the momentary silence though.

“Ken’,” You call out in a sweet drawl, eyes low-set onto Ino’s nervous frame.

Appearing from the kitchen now as if he’d been anticipating the sound of your voice, “Yes, my love?” Nanami answers.

You tilt your head and the man beside you is sweating as your question enters the air, “What’s your company’s stance on workplace relationships, again?”

Ino chokes.

“Hm?” Nanami hums, pacing over to the table and standing on the other side of Ino but looking at you, “Why do you ask?” Your eyes break away from the anxious male trying not to squirm where he sits for a moment to send your husband a telling glance. Understanding immediately, he nods, “Ah, I see. There is nothing set in place against…” He glances down at Ino and then back to you, lips twitching, “That.”

“Hmm, perfect!” You say all cheerfully before sitting up and clasping your hands together excitedly. Then you lean over and your arm brushes up against Ino’s, “…Takuma,” You begin in the same voice that’s constantly making it hard for him to function—in every sense.

Struggling to clear his throat and collect himself, his tone comes out in an unintentional squeak, “M-Ma’am?”

You’ve got the most innocent look in your eyes as if what you were about to do wasn’t everything but, “Would you mind staying for a few hours more to help us with something?”

“Uh, sure.” Leaves his lips before he even thinks about it. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into and he’s not sure he cares. Ino is more than willing to help you and Nanami with anything—in spite of him having no clue as to what’s in store for him now. “What… What did you two need help with?” He questions gradually. 

“Well, you see…”

——

Ino doesn’t know how the fuck he got here. He’d only come over for dinner with you, so if anyone expected him to explain how the hell he ended up in between your spread legs with his leaking dick out, he’d be at a loss for words.

He’s confused, flustered, and drooling from multiple areas of his body—the most profound area being the blushing crown of his cock.

You’re leaning back against Nanami—who’s the only one fully dressed in all this—and your legs are spread out for him with the sozzled display of your panties presented to him like some kinda reward. Humming, “Awh, Takumaa, you look so shy,” You point out softly.

His cock flinches before the rest of his body and then he snatches his gaze up toward your face, “Huh?” He breathes, “I’m not shy, I just…” Fuck, he could hardly finish his sentance here.

How could he possibly explain why his body was a mix of pink and red hues all over? Of course he’s flustered! One moment you were asking him to help you and Nanami with something and now he’s in your bedroom helping you two with… sex?

“C’mere,” You direct.

Nanami’s silent behind you, fully erect and twitching against the curve of your ass whilst you both carefully watch Ino draw himself nearer. When he gets close enough for you to reach, your fingers graze the tip of his cock, slide over it, and then wrap around his not-so-neglected shaft—giving it a gentle tug that has his body lulling forwards.

Breath heavy and noticeably uneven, Ino peers down at the hand you’ve got wrapped around him. He fights a whine against his throat when one of your fingers glides against the tender vein he’s got trailing the left side of his dick in a jagged pattern.

“Oh shit,” Ino breathes heavily the moment you guide him up against your panties, which were clung stupidly saturated against the puff of your folds—obstructing his view of the delicacy that lay beneath.

Not that this wasn’t just as stimulating. Especially as he brings a hand down to accompany yours and you both push on his cock a little to make it press, sandwich, and then spread the glossy slicks of your cunt out against his welting mushroomy tip.

You give out an aroused giggle and Nanami behind you seems everything but amused, scoffing a mean, “You can use your cock better than that, can’t you?” towards Ino as he watches his every move like a hawk.

Ino snaps out of the tantalizing little drag of his tip against you and swallows down another whine, “What-, sorry… What?” He asks, brain a mushy mess already.

The room was hot with a dizzying coat of thick lust that infiltrated his lungs and made it overly hard for him to breathe, much less think straight. Whenever Nanami opened his mouth it made something utterly errotic inside Ino ooze and that feeling only got worse whenever your voice followed quickly after.

Eager to play the nice role in all this, “Kento, go easy on him,” You chime in with a sugary scolding edge.

“If he’s going to fuck my wife then he’s going to do it properly,” Nanami says sternly, sending his brooding brown eyes over to the florid male in front of you, “Right?”

Ino quaffs a thick sum of saliva and nerves down his throat before his voice exits him gingerly, “...Yes, sir.”

“Your manners are so pleasant,” You talk as if you weren’t dragging the ending weight of his cock against your slippery folds, providing stimulation only through how wet the two of you were and the sticky mess of fabric that lay in between your skin and his.

Something breathy and soft ghosts out of him, “Miss.. please stop talking like that,” Ino requests politely.

If there was one thing you adored about the man so far, it was definitely how nicely he spoke to you. He harbored nothing but respect when speaking to you and fuck if it wasn’t driving you just as insane as he’d been driven from the moment he saw you.

“Like what?” You tried to tease.

Before he can quite reply, Nanami is slipping two fingers past your lips, “She tends to do that, don’t worry. I know how distracting it can be. But look, a couple fingers in her mouth and she’s rendered eager,” He explains, moving his other hand down to your cunt, swatting your fingers out of the way, and then gently parting your folds against the fabric of your panties to let them bundle up in between your slit, “See?”

Ino looks down and his breath chokes up in his throat at the gorgeous spread of your lustrous pussy against Nanami’s merciful fingers. Liquid arousal was leaking steadily out of your hole and everything it touched was left graciously soaking. 

Your husband—sensual, slow, and meticulous with everything he does—lazily hooks a single digit around the fabric of your panties and then tugs it over to the side, letting it snuggle itself against one of your spread lips. The sight was absolutely filthy. Ino had never seen a woman so wet from just a few touches and it seemed as though the fingers stuffed into your pretty mouth really did contribute to your sousing.

“Now, before you give in to your own needs, you must make sure she’s taken care of. Understood?” Nanami continues on with his instructions as he then slots one finger into you and gently curls it up to earn the first luscious moan from you. “If you skip this step, you’ll finish within the first few minutes, trust me.”

Ino’s nodding along at his every word, making his own mess of precum against the silken sheets below and itching to press forward. 

Nanami’s single finger inside you has your arms wrapping around his bulkier one and your hips inching upwards every time he strikes that spot he, obviously, knows your body adores. And the squelches that draft out into the air with a slow ring of sound—knocking against Ino’s eardrums persistently enough to make his head spin—are nearly more debauched than what was occurring.

Each time Nanami’s finger exits your cunt, Ino catches the whine dancing on your tongue. You were such a needy woman that it had him going insane. 

Sluggishly, Ino soon moves himself and a hand down, meeting eyes with Nanami, “May I?”

Nanami slips his finger out of you with one pluckful pop! of wetness echoing out into the air before using two digits to keep your folds open, “Be my guest. Show me how good you are at playing with my wife.”

Eager to please, Ino starts out with one long finger that glides into your warm hole seamlessly. A few experimental thrusts are made at first, and then he adds a second and then looks up to catch your expression and the way you’re writhing around what’s currently pressing lightly against your tongue.

Instinctively letting his touch curve upwards inside you, Ino can’t help but smile as his confidence grows. Whispering a breathy, “Cuute..” that tickles hotly against your stretching walls.

“Isn’t she?” Nanami agrees, voice near your ear.

When you start sucking on the fingers in your mouth and moaning against them for more, Ino takes that as a sign to slot in a second digit to satisfy the greediness you were displaying. Your insides were sucking him in deep and all he could picture was how prettily your cunt would look with his cock inside.

Ino knows he could stretch you out real good ‘n earn even sexier moans from you than what he was receiving now.

“Add a thumb to her clit,” Nanami coos, watching the way your neighbor does exactly that without hesitation. Your pussy twitches around every touch you were receiving and Ino ends up grinding down against the bed when your husband adds an easy, “There you go, atta’ boy…”

As if suddenly motivated, his thick thumb swats and toys with the budding bundle of nerves a little faster whilst his fingertips caress the sappiest spot inside you, causing your syrupy slick to gloop out around the skin of his hand and trickle downwards. His fingering progressively increases in pace before he tips his head to the side and licks your taste off of his hand and arm.

The moment it hits his tongue, Ino’s drunk. Sliding his fingers out of you completely driven by the taste he just got into his mouth and before you can whine at the loss of something being inside you, there’s a searing tongue slithering between your weepy folds and his lips are cupping the spread of your cunt.

The fingers Nanami’s using to keep you open for Ino twitch as the man’s tongue laps over them accidentally but neither of them seem to mind the sensation much. With his hips jerking upward against the plush of your ass, Nanami sucks in a sharp breath of air before smiling at the brunet in between your legs, “Ohh, someone was eager for a taste, huh?” He teases before emptying your mouth and turning to whisper into your ear, “How’s his tongue feel down there, honey?”

“S’good,” The response comes out as a mix of a gasp and a moan, relief breaking out in between the pleasured smile you reveal. “He-, ah… I like how hesitant he is as if he-, mmgh.. D-Doesn’t know what he’s doing,” You narrate as if you couldn’t feel the swabbing tip of his tongue swirling against the same spot his fingers had been hitting before. 

“Oh yeah?” Nanami huffs, glancing down to Ino as he presses a chaste kiss against your shoulder, “C’mon now, Takuma. Eat properly, won’t you?”

At that, Ino instantly sucks on your cunt and his mouth becomes sloppy against you. His jaw quickly slacks and those hungry brown eyes of his blow into the back of his head as he moans into you.

All whilst his hips are rutting into the bed, cock desperate for some type of stimulation as it dribbles a light mess of pre against your sheets.

You’re gasping after a few minutes, having moved a hand down to his hair and used your grip for better control, “Right there..” then your back is arching away from Nanami’s beefy chest, your nails are scraping against Ino’s scalp with desperation, and your hips are bucking, “Yes, jus’ like that… fuuck-, m’gonna–”

“Shh, shhh, my love,” Nanami interrupts, though his two fingers are lightly pinching your clit as Ino operates his mouth into you, “We’re not done with you yet, you can’t go making messes on our guests’ tongue before he’s ready.” Your husband scolds before grabbing your wrist and forcing you to tug the man’s head up, “Tell me,” He begins, noticing how lathered and pussydrunk Ino is already. Chuckling faintly, “Do you think you’re ready for what she’s about to give you?”

Ino nods, completely intoxicated with need, “Uhuh..”

And with that, Nanami lets go and allows Ino to do as he pleases for a moment. You feel his hands come over your thighs and grip tightly as his tongue laps through your constantly gushing slick, groaning at every swallow of the taste and literally feasting on you as if you were his final meal.

His tongue is gooey and hauling against your inner walls, saturating you even more with his own slop of saliva, and only ever pulling away to suckle the flavor out of you until you’re whining his name out—all as your orgasm washes over your body.

Does he give you time to recuperate? Not really.

You are only given a few seconds to blink your vision clear from the white sparks that’d just flashed over your gaze before Ino’s trailing wet kisses up along your body and then stops when he’s eye to eye with you.

His entire face looks different as if something feral had possesed him and when Nanami’s question hits his ears from the right, his eyes only flock over to the man for half a second as he asks, “How do you want to fuck her, hm?”

To which you feel Ino’s lengthy cock slot upwards against your sopping slit, “Like this.” He says shortly, only looking at your face again to see the way your mouth falls open.

It’s like you were inviting him in so, naturally, Ino leans down and shoves his tongue right into your pliantly parted lips. After which his arm snakes under your body and he tugs you away from Nanami to reposition the two of you as he wishes.

This was the first surprise of many for your husband who leans back and watches the way Ino handles you as if you were his.

The last slither of his attention Nanami receives is after Ino’s got you laid out under him and he stops kissing you just to ask, “Is this okay?”

Your husband is a bit too baffled by the fact that Ino quickly gained some confidence and is left with little nods of his head in response.

Then, Ino begins to act like the man is hardly there. Tugging your legs over his own while placing his hands onto your hips, he makes sure you're nice 'n spread for him before his tip begins to lick in between your folds with a teasing graze. The moment his head catches against your entrance, he grinds forward and quickly finds his jaw gaping.

Having you on his fingers and mouth was one thing but the moment he pushes inside you, he begins to heed Nanami’s words from earlier about how he would cum too quickly. But he couldn’t do that, not when he had your eyes erotically rolling into the back of your skull from just the first couple of inches—making him wonder if Nanami ever even fucked you at all (though, he definitely knew the answer to this).

“Ohh f-fuuuck…” Ino chokes, looking down at you and feeling his chest tighten at the way you were clinging to the silks below, “You’re so… agh-, you feel so fucking good…”

Between taking his lengthy girth into your snugging pussy that greeted him in with sappy hugs of wetness, you still manage out a playfully breathless, “Language..” since this was the first time you’d heard the word on his tongue like that.

A pussydrunken smile spreads across his lips, “M’sorry, I can’t help it… You’re so wet around my cock,” Ino utters filthily, “A-And you suck me in so deep, godd…”

“He’s right, sweetheart.” Nanami's adding in. Fuck, you’d almost forgot your husband was here for a moment before you saw an arm slithering in between you and Ino’s body. Then familiar fingertips are rolling around your clit in rhythmic motions that has your cunt sucking Ino in more. “Look, you’re taking him so well...”

Choking a cute, “K-Kento! You’re supposed to be-, fuck... watching, n-not touching…” You remind the man.

His hand goes from toying with your clit to palming your lower abdomen when Ino was currently bulging in, and then he applies pressure that has your walls clamping around Ino’s cock and him gasping at the feeling. 

Your arms wrap around Nanami’s again and he chortles, “How can I help myself when you cling to me so cutely, hm?” He asks, feeling your nails claw against the fabric of his long-sleeve work shirt, “With this, you’re bound to leave more marks on my arms. Does he feel that good inside you?” He asks.

Ino’s trying so hard not to give into the achy feeling in his heavy balls that press against your skin as he bottoms out inside you. But it feels impossible when you’re agreeing with Nanami’s honeyed words and moan a gentle, “Yes, he feels s-soo fuckin’ good-, mmgh!”

“Better than me?” Your husband challenges.

“Kento,” You’re gasping as you feel yet another orgasm building up and blooming deep within you.

He only smiles, “Be honest, honey. You know what I want to hear.”

Your head angles back and the two of you meet eyes as you finally nod. 

Before Nanami can do anything more, he watches a hand wrap around your throat and the way your gaze widens as Ino snaps his hips forward with a rougher, more impatient thrust. Then he’s huffing, “C’mon-, hahh.. Tell him. Tell your husband I’m fucking you better than he does.” Ino demands.

Nanami’s gaze lifts to the man slowly and his face blushes over from hearing that. Ears pinkened and throat running dry, the swelling of his cock is starting to hurt after those words. Nothing turned him on more than seeing another man fuck you to tears and be cocky about it. And the last thing he expected was for Ino to fit into this criteria perfectly.

Perhaps being inside you was slowly changing the very chemistry of his brain. Now his face was doused in confidence and Nanami’s struggling to hold himself back as he watches Ino move his arm out of the way to replace it with his own thumb to your clit—rubbing his name into it (not that Nanami could tell, of course).

Swirling perfectly over the bud and angling his thrusts slightly enough to hit that sweet spot of yours again, Ino glances up at Nanami—desperate for his approval, even if it meant feeding into his cuckolding kink—and then cocks his head to the side, “S’like the missus said, you’re supposed to be watching anyway, not touching. So do that, yeah? Sit back ‘n watch.”

Your husband nearly cums right then and there while still being fully clothed. He’s let plenty of men fuck you for the sake of satisfying this shameful side of him but no one has ever spoken to him in such a way.

With a short scoff, Nanami smiles slightly, “Alright, you wanna be in control?”

Ino’s got something downright sinful strained out against his slightly drooling lips, “I already am, aren’t I? You-,” He moans and flashes a smile down to you for just a second, “Fuck, keep squeezin’ me like that,” Then he’s looking at Nanami again, “You both asked for my help with this little problem,” He emphasizes with another blunt thrust that has you crying out his name. “So let me do that properly.”

Nanami doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on while watching someone else fuck you before. He no longer hesitates to work his thick belt through their loops and tug the damn thing off with a loud clack to the floor, quickly shuffling a hand down to pull his cock out and soothe the throbbing ache he feels thumping all throughout its hefty size.

He’s so aroused that his brain feels grogged with nothing but pure sin, especially with the way Ino rips all of his attention away from him and focuses back on you. 

One hand still focused on your clit, the other moving to weave his fingers in between yours as if you were his woman, and hips rolling his long cock in and out of your saccharine walls—drawing the prettiest of sounds out of your throat all for him and no longer your husband.

“You like this just as much as he does, don’t you, pretty girl?” Ino asks you breathlessly, eyes low with a glint of demand in them as if you had no room to refute his words. When you answer with nothing more than a mere whine, he cracks a handsomely fucked-out smile, “Yeahh? Y’like having someone else fuck you in front of your husband? ‘Like feelin’ a different cock inside you, huh?”

Your cunt is soaking the entirety of his veiny shaft, dousing him in thick liquids of your release, and squelching around him louder than you were moaning. “Uhuh, love it,” You gasped, “Love havin’ you inside me, Takuma… aah-, you fuck me s’good..”

Ino’s nodding with you now, “Mhm, I knoww. And look at him, jus’ watching it all happen and getting off to it. Isn’t that so filthy of him?”

“Mmgh! Y-Yes,” Then your head angles back enough to glance at your husband and your pupils all but dilate at the mess he’s made of himself.

Ropes and ropes of gooey white cum smothering his cock as his lathered hand remains wrapped around it—tugging with jerky motions and driving himself far into overstimulation. All as he’s muttering a flushed vocalization of nasty curses, his groans and grunts reverberating throughout the room and clashing with the sound of Ino fucking you into the mattress. 

Then you’re cumming again and In’s pounding you through it, using your body on the length of his cock, dragging you along his every thrust whilst your free hand comes out and pushes at his chest as if to steady yourself, and hardly allowing you a second to catch your breath.

You had no idea your cute neighbor had all this in him. His hips are brutal against yours and you don’t even think anything of it by the time he’s spilling his seed into you in thick ribbony ropes.

The only thing you’re crying out is a cockdrunken babble of more as if you could handle that at the point of which you were reaching.

Maybe it was the few years of age that differed between you and Ino but he definitely had a lot more stamina than you were expecting from him. And while Nanami does keep up with you for hours, it was definitely hard to compare to this.

You’re still clueless about the fact that Ino’s first impression of you was completely naked, but now his last impression of you was going to be stuffed full of cum and fucked dumb on his cock.

How embarrassing!

tags 1/2:

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@kaofindj @d43dg1rl @mimiluvzu2 @lululemmington @choso-enthusiast

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@mandistromboli @pussyeaterleah @theuniversesnepobaby @mollysails @ficrepostblog

He never came back and you never heard from him again. Yes, you tried missing person reports and all sorts of things in that nature but, alas, no results.

Which brings you back to now as you sit here asking Google very important questions like, "Do vampires cum to the taste of blood?"

While that does sound like a strange thing to be typing into your search bar, it’s October—kinktober if you’re on the right side of the internet—these questions are of utmost importance! Last year, you did a search or two on werewolves and how they work…

Reeling back into the present though, your fingers are tapping away at the keys of your laptop, scrolling and clicking on all sorts of links to find your answer. These are the kinds of activities that keep you well distracted from just how lonely you’ve found yourself feeling lately.

The rest of your house is cold, lacking the warmth of another body, quiet in a way that’d make some people lose their minds, and almost eerily still in some parts. There are rooms you haven’t been inside of in months since those are the rooms Gojo used to frequent most often and you fear that if you walk inside them, the ghost of his charming and brightening presence would still be lingering.

Even sleeping in your bed is hard without him sometimes. It’s the same bed the two of you used to share, after all. The same bed he’s comforted you in with those big arms you swear you could still feel wrapped around you to this day. Everything about Gojo just… lingers around your house.

Sometimes you think you can still smell his cologne in the fabrics of just about everything, which is why you took it upon yourself to bake like crazy on nights like this—hoping that the scent of fresh cookies and pies would flush his scent out of your nose for good.

That only ever worked for so long though. As soon as everything got cold, you’d walk past the chair he’d claimed as his own and feel like you were literally passing his ghost again. You didn’t even know if he was dead and yet it felt like it.

You tried to get over it via distractions like tonight but—like everything else—that never lasted long, if even at all. He was always dancing around in the back of your mind. You’d even find yourself glancing over to your front door, hoping that one day he’d just appear. It was a pipe dream for you at this point, considering he’s been gone a whole year now.

The two of you had even been on the road to getting engaged. You unfortunately found that out when you were cleaning out your previously shared bedroom and stumbled upon a ring he oh-so-poorly hid beneath the bed in some box he thought you’d never get to. Now that? Oh, you were a mess when you found that ring.

It was by far the prettiest piece of jewelry you’d ever seen in your life. So pretty that you have it displayed on your nightstand now as some kind of ghastly reminder of what your life could have been if Gojo hadn’t gone missing.

Sometimes you wonder if he ran off with that best friend of his… Y’know, the one who you only saw at night and always seemed a little too close to your boyfriend? After all, it's not like you could locate him after Gojo’s disappearance either. Maybe they’d run off together.

That was one of the last things you told yourself before really trying to move on. Now your home was more of a mere house than a place of comfort. Every day felt like something was missing and you knew what it was but you continued to distract yourself. Gojo wasn’t coming back and you knew that.

Or at least, you thought you did.

——

About thirty minutes into your very intense Google searching, your oven chimes with a soft ding! that captures your attention, letting you know your pie is done. 

You slip out of your chair and pace over to the appliance, soon opening it and taking your freshly baked delicacy out with oven mittened hands. The warmth seeps past the fabric against your palms before you place the desert onto your counter and something deep in your heart twinges at it.

Satoru loved sweets.

You hated that your only distraction from thinking about him did nothing but pound the memory of him right back into your mind. Sometimes, when your longing gets really bad—like now, for example—you could feel his presence against you.

The way his hands used to trail around your waist, squeezing whatever skin he could before hugging you from behind, and then muttering into your neck about how much he loved you was a burning memory for you. Followed by this was always him tipping your chin up and then pulling your face back to kiss you. The way he’d always smile against your lips still lingers to this day.

It’s been a year and yet all it took was taking one measly pie out of the oven for the tears to start welling up again. You should be over him now, truly. Yeah, you two were together for years but… you have to move on at some point, right?

The task seems impossible though. You’ve tried going on dates and meeting other people but none of them were him. No one talked to you like he did, teased you like he used to, barked out bright laughter and a series of giggles that’d fill up a room just as he did, and—most importantly—no one loved you like he did.

No one could love you the way Gojo did. It was impossible when he was the kinda man who’d give his life up if it meant saving you.

In came the waterworks as your own brain fucked you over. You snatched those mittens off your hands and flung them to the other side of the counter, your body leaning against its edge as droplets of sadness coated the clean surface below.

Just as quickly as you’d wipe them away, they came rushing back twice as hard—just like the fragments of your time with him did.

Your sobs end with you bunched up on the floor a few minutes later, hugging your knees tightly as your back pressed against one of your lower kitchen cabinets. The worst thing about Gojo’s disappearance was the fact that you didn’t know what happened to him.

You didn’t know if he was kidnapped, ran away, or even dead somewhere… Which left a burning hole of unknown in your heart that ached so thrummingly it’d make your chest cave in and leave you numb with a sense of nothingness.

Simply “missing” him was a severe understatement in regards to how you truly felt. His life had been far too entangled with what was once your own that without him, a necessary part of your very being was violently ripped away from you.

Silly Google searches kept your mind at bay for what, an hour or two? Then it was right back to the depressive air that’d made home in the space around your body.

Now you sit alone on your kitchen floor, craving the presence of someone who’d vanished out of your life. 

At every waking hour of the day, everything reminded you of that man. Working, trips to the grocery store, the rare outings with your friends—who found it difficult to spend time with you these days since you were too wrapped in your mourning—and even simple things like watching movies or going on walks.

The distant sound of pattering rain could be heard against the windows of your home and that only fueled the mood swirling about the air. That, and it also leaves you to think about how Gojo would always make light of situations like this.

He’d tell you how beautiful the rain outside was and make you appreciate nature’s natural occurrences more than you ever would on your own. You specifically remember how both of you got each other sick because you’d stupidly run outside in the rain and goofed around together like two love-sick fools.

The following week after may have been filled with nasally sniffles and hoarse coughs but, you mostly remember the cuddles and the warmth that came with taking care of one another.

For the nth time in your life, you miss times like that so dearly.

It takes you a while to push yourself up from the floor and the only real reason you got up was because you’d heard a knock on your front door. You dragged yourself over to it and when you unlocked the door and pried it open slowly, you were met with nothing.

Nothing stood in front of you aside from increasing rain and distant thunder. Your eyes survey your front porch before you step out only halfway to make sure you haven’t received a late-night package or anything of the sort.

When you continue to find nothing there for you, a sigh fogs past your lips and then you enter your home again with a soft shut of your door.

You steadily return to your seat, the scent of baked goods still dotting your house’s atmosphere. The rain outside gradually grows heavier and heavier as the minutes drag on, the sound of agitated water beating against your windowpanes in unrhythmic waves. 

The little candle you’ve got sitting inside your happily carved pumpkin glows and flickers its light faintly against your mostly clear kitchen counter—its softness a complete contrast to the way you were feeling now. While you lug your laptop closer, trying to dive back into those absurd searches, you end up making your way to Reddit and skimming over vampire biology. 

It was kinda funny how you could go from balling your eyes out one moment and then reading shit about vampiric ejaculation the next. But you suppose that’s how a lot of your days have been; sobs one second and something to distract you the next.

Your mouse whirs around your screen for a moment before you hear a clean, gentle set of knocks against your front door again. This time you freeze, barely turning back to stare at the door. It wasn’t as hesitant or faint as the first few knocks had been but, perhaps you were too tangled in your sadness to realize the first time.

It takes you a minute to move. Your mind is still a mess but, you wonder if it’s one of your neighbors' kids messing with you again. After all, ever since Gojo disappeared, the kids who’d grown quite fond of him beforehand do try their best to stop by and check on you. There’d been nights like this all throughout October as well where they’d knock on your door and then run off as soon as you opened it.

You knew they meant no harm by it so it never angered you. Hell, this time they were probably trying to get some early Halloween candy…

Chuckling wearily, you rise from your chair—pulse thumping in your fingertips all weirdly from the flush of mixed emotions swirling around inside you—and make your way to the door. Due to your slow walking, there’s another set of knocking and you sense the impatience oozing off of whoever stood outside, as if they knew you were stalling or something…

You press on your best, fake smile, expecting three kids—Yuji, Nobora, and Megumi—to be standing on the other side of the door eager for some sweets. You had plenty of pie and cookies to share anyway so, them stopping by unexpectedly like this wouldn’t be so bad.

Hand on the doorknob, twisting and steadily pulling it open with your eyes fixated downward, “You guys know Halloween isn’t for another two weeks,” You start off playfully, noticing only one pair of feet below before you begin to crane your gaze upwards, “R-Right…?” Your voice dies out in your throat and the world feels as though it stops.

Your footing shifts back against the floor and your hand leaves the doorknob to come up over your mouth and conceal the gasp that’s stolen from your lungs.

There he was.

Standing soaking wet on your porch as if he’d only been gone a day or two instead of a year, hair a shaggier shade of white from the rain—moist strands clinging to his forehead—and face a soft-set expression of somber. Those familiar blue eyes you only ever knew as sparkling and radiant seemed wracked with guilt and shadows of regret. 

Everything had felt so still in the moment. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe as you gaped all wide-eyed and unmoving at who-, or rather, what stood in front of you. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

Surely someone was playing a trick on you. Perhaps some really fucked-up prank? 

“S.. Satoru…?” His name, unuttered from your lips for oh so long prior to this moment, comes out as a cracked whine of syllables.

Your gaze doesn’t miss a beat, catching the way his throat adjusts to swallow something down, the same jaw you’d traced your fingertips over in the past now taut with tension. Then his lips part and a soft, “Hey,” works out of him, voice a tinge unlike the tone you remember fondly.

The single word has something inside your chest clenching.

Your top lashes are meeting your bottom ones with quick, uncontrollable flutters as your vision begins to blur all over again, this time too much to fight off. “You-,” Words choke in your throat and your head is shaking, “How are-, I thought you were…”

Making up for the words you can’t seem to say just yet, he creeps forward, just a little. “I know,” Gojo whispers tenderly, hand twitching at his sides to reach out for you. “I know, sweetheart. I–”

“D-Don’t call me that,” Everything was trembling; your voice, your hands, hell, even the clouds seemed to shudder with tears just as you were. Those words stung him just as much as they left your tongue with a harsh sting of reality.

That raw grief and anger that you’ve been harboring for months is consuming you entirely now, spilling into your words, “You disappeared!” You’re shouting, voice echoing out into the rainy night air. “No calls, no texts, no… no anything. Do you have any idea what that did to me? I thought-,” You catch yourself holding back on saying it for a moment but your sentiments get the better of you shortly after, “I thought you were fucking dead!”

Sarcasm presses against his lips as they distantly twitch, the gesture so faint you almost miss it. Even unspoken, you knew Gojo wanted to say how it was obvious he wasn’t dead seeing as he’s standing right in front of you, alive and well. You understood him better than he understood himself sometimes—even after a whole year—so what was unsaid still clung to your ears.

He steps forward again and you inch back, the heavy droplets of rain from his body wetting up your porch as he moves. It’s then that you notice how pale he is. Your porch lights catch him just right and your head tilts a bit, noticing the lack of warmth in his skin tone that felt… completely void of light or… as if the moon engraved itself into his very flesh.

And his eyes—having been darkened from just a few seconds ago—now seem to glint with something deeper and almost uncanny with a crystalline blue that shimmers beneath his white lashes.

Shaking off your overanalyzation of the man, you tell yourself it was nothing more than your grief playing tricks on your mind and making you see things that weren’t really there.

Your eyes were telling you that this was the same man you loved—Gojo Satoru—but somewhere deep in your tethered soul, you knew otherwise. A hallowed shell of the man you once knew couldn’t be standing before you or anything crazy like that, right?

That sounded ridiculous but even with a few words exchanged, something felt off.

“I-I know,” Gojo murmurs finally, gaze drooping down to the floor. Even angsty and wet, his tall frame still managed to tower over your very being in a way that was once endearing but now felt haunting. “And I’m sorry,” He continued slowly.

It was all so sooo sluggish. Every word dragged away from his mouth as if he were stretching each second out to make the rekindling moment with you last longer than it actually was.

He stumbles a bit closer and this time you don’t move back. Then his hand comes up to the frame of your door as his lanky body leans against it and his head flips up, hair flicking water all over the place before slicking back all messily. Then he weighs his head to the side in a way that has you… mesmerized?

Voice lowering into something coiled with desire, “Just… let me in, and I’ll explain everything,” He promises. Though, there’s a twang inside you that’s telling you not to make things that easy for him—not after the year of heartbreak you just endured.

Your brows pinch together, “What? Do you know how torturous this past year has been for me? How… How painful? A-And you think I’m just gonna let you waltz back into my house after a single apology and acknowledgement of your own faults?” You scoff, arms crossing under your chest and eyes rolling elsewhere. “Fuck that, and fuck you. I want an explanation now.”

A brief smile flickers over his unfairly angelic features, “You mean our house, right?” He asks half-jokingly, as if now was the time for such a thing. You could tell your claim over a home that you two once shared struck a nerve, seeing as he’d breezed over everything you just said for a second. Gojo’s forehead rests against the back of his hand a bit, “I’ll give you an explanation and more if you just let me in. C’mon baby, I.. I’m cold.” He says carefully.

Your tears have sunken into your skin by now, halfway dried up and replaced with heated frustration. “So was I for the past twelve months,” You spat, “Y’know, seeing as you abandoned me. If you want to come inside so badly, just–”

“Do you want me to beg?” He interrupts to offer, not waiting for a response. You stand there and watch the way his body gradually lowers and he slides down to his knees, now staring up at you with a gorgeous apologetic look in his eyes. All puppy-like and doleful, his gaze never leaves yours, “Please, let me in, sweetheart. Hah, I can’t explain everything while m’out here, it’s too cold—I’ll freeze to death.”

It was weirdly comforting to hear he still had his dramatic sense of humor despite ghosting you for a year…

Rolling your eyes again, “Gojo–”

He suddenly utters your name, all longingly like a prayer on his tongue. Then you feel a connection somewhere below, looking down to see he’s managed to pinch a fraction of your sweatpants in between his long fingers. “Please? I want to explain, I really do, but you’ve gotta let me inside first,” He insists with a slight tug.

You stumble forward, your body exiting the warmth of your home as you stand an inch past your doorframe. And before you could argue or send any more curses his way, he’s wrapping his arms around your legs and nuzzling his face into your thighs.

“I missed you,” Gojo has the nerve to utter so lovingly that it has your mind raging wars again. After which you feel his nails—that seem as though they haven’t been clipped in forever—slightly sinking into the back of your thighs to hold you closer to him. “Please let me come in,” He repeats like a broken record before looking up at you again, cheek mushed against your leg, “Let me come home.”

The way he says that almost makes you want to burst into another fit of tears but you don’t. You inhale sharply and steel your emotions before glancing off with glossy eyes.

Muttering something you hopefully won’t regret, “F-Fine.”

At the end of the day, he was the love of your life. You couldn’t deny him no matter how much you lied to yourself.

“Say it,” His tone is harsh like some sort of command and it makes you flinch slightly.

You’re confused but, you sigh anyway, “You… You can come inside, Gojo.”

You’d think your recent search history would’ve given you some insight as to why that may not have been the best idea….

——

After a slight groan exited his throat, you could barely register what was happening before he tightened his hold on you and then stood up, throwing your body over his shoulder as if you were weightless.

It’s not like Gojo couldn’t do such a thing before—he used to pick you up all the time—but something about this was a little too seamless. It was rather supernatural the way your body hauled up over his shoulder as he walked into the house and then kicked the door shut behind him with a slight slam.

Not that you questioned that either.

You were far too busy carousing in the fact that Gojo, your ex, had just walked into your house again. It felt different, especially with a million questions unanswered. But, something in you was on the path toward healing.

Gojo’s damp clothes brush against your skin and begin to wet you up slightly in the process of carrying you. Every step he takes only drips rainwater onto your floors and although you probably should, you don’t find room in your mind to care. His breathing is scarily quiet and evened, like having your weight on his shoulder truly did nothing to his body.

By the time he reaches your kitchen, the lingering thick scent of your pie hits his nostrils and brings that domestic comfort back into his body. The way he set you down on the counter and settles his body in between your legs to stand close and meet eyes with you is painfully familiar. You’d been in this position with the man thousands of times before, all for different reasons but always eye to eye with him no matter.

Gojo’s palms rest against the cool of the counter outside your thighs, keeping you caged by his imminent frame. He’s close, too close. You notice the way his eyes are searching your face as if to recommit every detail to memory whilst he struggles for where to begin.

“Gojo,” You hum, voice wavering with more exhaustion than fear or concern. “I didn’t let you in just to stare at me. Start talking—”

“First off,” Your ex cuts off rudely, eyes boring into yours hungrily. “Don’t treat me like a stranger. You know me. Say my name.” He commands.

You blink at him as the audacity of his words leaves your jaw tense. Scoffing in his face, “You’ve been gone for a year. Get over yourself. I’ll call you whatever the hell I want.”

He jeers under his breath, plush lips twisting up slightly in the same way you remember it to before an argument—something of which was pretty rare between you two, “Yeah? So that’s the game we’re playing here? You’re gonna sit here and pretend to be mad at me?”

A humorless laugh escapes you, “You really don’t think I’m mad at you?” You question rhetorically with a slight cock of your brow, “You were gone for a year, Gojo. A year.”

“And I said I’m sorry for that.” He replies blankly.

You couldn't believe his audacity, acting as if you owed him forgiveness. “Yeah, because that makes up for it—”

“Okay, okay, listen,” He sighs interruptingly, shoulders sagging, “I got into some… stuff.”

You hated how vague he was being, your brows knitting together and your voice pointed, “What kinda ‘stuff’? Don’t beat around the bush, just tell me.”

“It’s uh,” His hand lifts from the counter and meets the back of his neck to scratch, “It’s kinda hard to do that…”

This was driving you insane-, he was driving you insane. Gone for a year just to come back and do nothing but confuse you even more? The number of scoffs that’d left your lips by this point was almost concerning, yet expected. “Why?” You ask him, hoping he’ll stop dragging this out.

Unfortunately for you, Gojo can’t even help himself. His pupils travel your face—so full of hurt and perplexity—and he carefully takes in your every shift in expression. He’d watched your face change from sadness to anger, and now confusion in only a matter of ten to twenty minutes. And to top it all off? His body was betraying him.

He was anything but focused on the conversation at hand, his gaze dipping down to your neck and then your collarbone area. Fuck, his mouth was salivating before he could control it. Then his ears were thrumming, the sound of your blood flowing beneath your soft flesh ringing throughout his senses and dazing his brain. 

Almost possessed, “I’m a bit distracted….” He tells you in a voice so light you almost miss it, like he hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

You narrow your eyes, “By what?”

Gojo leans down suddenly, so close that his breath ghosts your skin. His nose grazes your neck and your pulse stutters. “Your… scent,” He mutters, almost moaning the word. His voice is a pitch lower now, breathier, and you feel the heat of it sliding down your skin along with the drips of water from his body.

Your hands shoot up to his chest, the wet fabric cold beneath your palms, ready to push him away—but he doesn’t stop. You cling to his soaked shirt, a familiar care flashing in your mind as you consider escorting him back to the bedroom you used to share so he could change out of these rain-filled fabrics and avoid sickness.

Despite the cold water coating his body, his breath is warm against your neck while something starved rumbles at the center of his throat, “Fuck, I uh—hahh… I can’t really think about anything else…” He mumbles randomly before adding a faint, “God, you’re dizzying…”

You blink, “W-What? Gojo, what’s wrong with y—”

“Say my fucking name,” He grunts, voice pleading and raw all of a sudden. Then a whine laces in, and his teeth are sharpening, “Please?”

You hesitate. His back and forth between something commanding and something utterly desperate was gonna give you a headache sooner or later. “…Satoru,” His first name on your tongue has him purring like a stray cat before you thread your fingers into his wet hair and then force him to meet your gaze. The moment your eyes lock with one another, you flinch. The azure in his gaze were so unfocused and glassy, completely drunken with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. “Are you okay??” You finally ask.

He shakes his head no indistinctly, lips pulling into a soft pout, “M’thirsty, sweetheart. So goddamn thirsty…”

You blink, confused, and then snort with a half-smile forcing itself onto your features at his bizarre acts, “D-Do you want some water?”

Your voice was making his body throb. Every part of your lips and subtle adjustment of your figure only amplified the sound of your blood running beneath your veins and he felt like he was seconds away from either passing out or doing something he’d regret for the rest of his immortal life.

An actual whine threads out of his lips this time, completely broken as his eyelids seal shut like he’s in pain, “Shiiit, I shouldn’t’ve come here yet…”

Colored completely confused, you just stare. You hardly know what to say, much less what to do now, “Satoru, can you please tell me what’s going on with—”

“For fuck’s sake,” He snaps abruptly, and when his eyes open again, they’re impossibly hued with an inhumane glint, “I’m a vampire,” He finally, finally admits to you, “I’ve been gone for a year because I was turned, and if I immediately came back to you, I would’ve accidentally killed you trying to quench my insatiable thirst.”

His explanation hits you like a truck, leaving you frozen.

Your ex-boyfriend’s a vampire now? And he’s standing right in front of you after a year of avoiding you because he didn’t want to kill you?

Wait, more importantly…

You let him into your house not knowing this? 

So much for all that research…

The air between you both is thickened all over again and his voice breaks out along with him slipping away from your hold on his hair, face sliding back down toward your neck again, “God, that’s so shitty of me, isn’t it?” Gojo whispers tenderly. “Leavin’ for a year and then coming back with that as an explanation…”

As he speaks, his head steadily angles against your neck and you find yourself instinctively making room for him. Your fingers still run through his hair like second nature and you notice how, despite him being quite soaked, there isn’t a single shiver exuding from his body.

Perhaps he wasn’t lying. He really was a vampire.

“You probably hate me now,” He’s murmuring still, lips on your skin now. Then they part and you feel his teeth graze you for half a second before he grunts and shuts his mouth. “…Shit, I-I’m sorry.” Even as his apology exits him, you feel his hands slide up so that his fingers could curl against your waist—claws digging into you.

To which you flinch and shoot a hand down to his wrist, “Fuck, Satoru, that hurts..” You wince softly.

He frowns at your neck, “M’sorry..” Then the other hand you’ve got in his hair grips tighter before you yank his head away from your neck. Gojo moans shamelessly at your aggressiveness and his eyes are low with the desire to please coating them. “W-Wait, wait,” He huffs, as if drawing him away from your neck would very well kill him any moment now. “I just… I need a taste, sweetheart.”

You’re staring at him blankly but something faint in your expression twitches. You were never good at refusing Gojo’s begging. That was always your weakness. Even more now that he looks as though he’d drop dead if he didn’t get some sort of nutrients on his tongue.

As you finally consider your recent research, you do know a bit more about vampires now than you did a couple hours ago. You know it’s difficult for them to communicate when their thirst is clawing at their insides and driving them insane. With that in mind, you couldn’t possibly expect to have a proper conversation with Gojo when he’s like this.

So, your grip on his hair finally loosens and you sigh, “Okay… What do you want me to do?”

His pupils dilate as your words hit his ears and there’s a twitch from his cock already. You were so perfect, just as perfect as he remembered you to be.

Treating this situation like a delicacy wrapped in some sort of blessing, Gojo’s careful with the way he draws his hands up and takes your face into his palms. He then leans forward and you blink as his lips touch your forehead—a motion of silent thanks before he redirects his touch to your waist and drags your body closer to the counter’s edge.

Your legs are nearly wrapped around him now but neither of you seems to care too much. Gojo hears the bumping of your heart growing faster as the distance lessens and the sound only makes his teeth ache to bare fangs. There’s a noise simpering somewhere deep in his throat but you can’t really make it out and you’re too distracted by how he makes his way to your neck.

Gracefully, he lifts a finger to your chin to tip it up and then angles it off so he has room. The chill that’s induced from his breath on your tense skin is prominent. He hasn’t even answered your question verbally and yet you felt beyond nervous.

He should be able to quench his thirst without harming you, right? He wouldn’t drain you completely, would he? What if it hurts too much? What if—

“I can hear your thoughts, you know,” Gojo says all of a sudden, the words felt at your neck. “I’d never ask to do something like this if I didn’t know what I was doing.”

You gulp. “…You can hear my thoughts?”

“Every last one is like a dreamt sonnet to my mind,” He voices thickly before wrapping his arms around you as if to keep your nerve-racked body steady against him. Then his tongue darts out and he laps over the area he plans to sink his sharpening fangs into, “No matter how insignificant… or remarkable, I cling to every word in that pretty head of yours.”

Before you can comment on his rather poetic way of saying he now possesses some type of telepathic ability, the warm spread of his lips followed by something honed is grazing your flesh. Your hands have found his shirt to clutch onto and that grasp grows tighter.

Gojo lets the two tips of his fangs prick your skin before he whispers, “This will only hurt for a moment, then you will feel pleasure. I promise.”

Your brows furrow. Pleasure? From getting blood sucked out of you? That doesn’t even sound righ—

His teeth pierce through your neck before you could even finish that thought of yours. Your eyes widen and you yelp out in pain whilst his hands soothe over your waist with gently rubbing thumbs as if to coax you through it. 

The pain is rivaling something excruciating but because it’s him, because it’s someone you still believe to be the love of your life, it’s a sensation you can almost ignore. Not completely, of course. You could still feel the very structure of his fangs lodged past the layer of flesh on your neck so that blood could pour out past them and travel to his taste buds. The initial bite has you holding onto Gojo for dear life and you swear it lasts forever.

Then those fangs retract and you feel his mouth cup the area, a slosh of blood and saliva coating that part of your neck before his tongue laps out at you. The skin there is tender given the wound he’d just created but a strange noise slips out of you the moment he begins to suck.

It’s an eccentric sensation to feel someone suckling your blood into their mouth. The feeling can hardly be described at first outside of something strictly painful. But, just as he’d told you, pleasure soon follows like the calm after a wild storm. Perhaps it was because of how his tongue navigated around the open wound as if he’d mapped the region out time and time again.

And hey, technically speaking, he had mapped that area out thousands of times before this. Y’know, back when he was a human…

Reeling back into this moment, Gojo takes a while to quench his thirst and through every second you could feel your body responding in ways you weren’t quite expecting. You didn’t even realize you were coddling his head closer to your neck and where he was sucking until he groaned at the way your nails faintly scraped his scalp.

He tries to pull away for a moment to breathe but each time he does, a slim stream of your blood begins to trickle down and threatens to stain your shirt. To which he’d dive back in and lick the sweet flavor back onto his tongue.

When he was a freshly-turned vampire, he’d been told how the blood of a lover is sweeter than anything else on this earth and yet, he never quite expected it to be like this. “Mmnh,” Gojo moans unintentionally against you.

Every time he thought he was done, he just went right back in for more, beyond addicted to the thick liquid gushing out onto his tongue. The vampire only ever knew of one other thing to be sweeter than this.

But he hadn’t quite made his way down to that yet…

You think he’s satisfied his thirst at some point but you’re quickly distracted when you feel his lips traveling up, bloodied kisses decorating the side of your neck as he peppers them into your skin. One of his hands dives into his pocket—as if prepared for this—and he quickly pulls out a bandaid for the wound. Your grip on his hair steadily loosens and you should’ve said something about how he started kissing you as if he earned the right to do so but, instead your head is tipping back as he makes his way to your jaw.

The bandaid he pulled out is pressed over your open wound and his hands then find the thick of your hips so he can force your body to be completely flush with his. Right then, you gasp out into the air with the way his cock is felt poking up against your clothed cunt. There are multiple layers in between the two of you but that matters little with the way he starts marking your neck with dark love bites and grinding up against you.

Gojo solely plucks away from your throat for one thing and one thing only.

As his head flies up and your eyes meet his, neither of you spares the other a word nor do you think before you’re doing what’s so severely natural. You know you shouldn’t be giving into him this easily, you know you should still be yelling at him about how hurt you are but when his lips are slotting onto yours and his tongue is transferring the taste of your blood into your mouth—you can’t fathom a single thought outside of this moment.

Your face twists up at the metallic taste and he catches it, biting back a smile at your rather endearing reaction before pulling away—just barely—and clasping your chin in between his fingers to whisper, “It’s not as sweet for you, is it?” He whispers. You shake your head in response and he hums, “Figured… There’s an easy fix for that though, just spit in my mouth,” He breathes out suddenly.

Almost instantly, you’re taken out of whatever trance you’d just been stuck in and blink, “W-What?”

Gojo smiles faintly before letting his tongue lull out, “Cleanse me, sweetheart.”

As if possessed, you hardly know why you do just as he’s asked and let a thick droplet of your saliva coat his blood-stained tongue within the next second. Then you watch the way he swirls his tongue around in his mouth, as if the liquid from your mouth truly absolved the taste of your blood and replaced it with something even sweeter.

Not many seconds after that pass before your lips are colliding against one another again and your bodies are moving in unison—physically proving the deep and utterly natural craving you both harbored for one another. Everything is sensual and desperate. It’s a wet ‘n messy glide of need through the act of making out that collides oh so heavily. Gojo’s now clinging onto your hips again as if he were afraid he’d be snatched away from you again, his body unable to avoid creating more friction just to earn those pretty whines he’d missed so much.

And the moment you start moaning as if you missed him just as much as he missed you? 

Oh, he can’t even control his own body before he’s scooping you back up into his arms and carrying you off into the living room, tossing you down gently on the couch. You try to gasp but he doesn’t even give you time to do that, his lips are crashing down into yours again and this time he’s got your thigh against his palm and is tugging your leg up to rest at his hip while he grinds down into you achingly.

“S-Satoru,” You’re attempting to pull him back into reality and remind him that you’re not his girlfriend anymore and that he still has a shit ton of explaining to do!

Groaning to let you know he heard that, “S’that so? You’re not my girlfriend anymore?” Gojo mumbles against your mouth, tongue still darting out to swipe over your bottom lip.

Your eyes are half-lidded and your body is hot all over, even with his wet clothing mashing against you and soaking you up. “It’s been a year,” You huff, “You can’t just show up at my house–”

“Our,” He corrects testingly yet again.

Rolling your eyes, “Whatever, our house, suck my blood, and then try to fuck me like you haven’t been gone,” You scold seriously with your hands at his chest, pushing his body up to create some sort of distance. “I don’t even know what happened to you yet-, or, how you became a vampire...”

“And yet you let me kiss you,” He points out. “We can get into the details later, sweets. Right now all I wanna do is—”

“You don’t get to leave me emotionally wrecked for a year and then come back into my life trying to fix it with your dick,” You say with finality.

That seems to strike the right nerve.

“Tch, fine,” He moves his hands to the bottom of his shirt and slowly lifts it up all slut-like to reveal his marred body, one thick painful-looking scar stretching out across his abdomen as if his body had once been split in half or something like that. “S’This what you want, huh?” He asks meanly, as if he was trying to hide the shame he felt from his tethered body beneath anger, “Want me to tell you how some seven foot, four-armed freak ripped me to shreds? How it was Suguru—who I know you never liked—that found me at the last inch of my life and then saved me?”

Your gaze trails down his figure and even though it’s clear by the aggression in his outburst that he’s ashamed of what he’s showing you, you can’t help but gawk at the man presented to you. Even with nasty battle scars all over his skin you still found him as attractive as ever—if not more so now than you did before.

You gulp and let out a soft scoff, “Jesus, Satoru…”

Then he flings his shirt across the room and his palms relax against the couch at the sides of your head, caging you under him, “Is that what you wanted to hear? Does that satisfy you?” Gojo asks in a voice threading onto something broken, “Or… do you also need to hear how I only stayed away for a year because I was too much of a coward to come back to you like this?”

When you finally meet eyes with him again, you notice his are coated with tears and the sight immediately makes your heart lurch in your chest as your expression falters. You couldn’t bear to see the love of your life looking at you as if he was wrapped in a disgusting cloud of something shameful and hideous. Gojo Satoru, of all people, looming over you now with a look on his face that said he was abashed to show himself to you like this.

Your hands instinctively shoot up to his face, cupping his cheeks into your palms and pulling him closer to you so that your thumbs could wipe his lower lashline where the fluid had welt up. It wasn’t water, no. It was yet another reminder that the man before you was no longer human as a reddened liquid pricked the corners of his eyes.

And yet, despite it all, he was still as beautiful as an angel before you.

The thought fluttering around in your head makes his lips twitch up into a saddened smile, “You can’t… You can’t yell at me, think such pretty things about me, and then expect me not to crave you the way I do.” He mutters.

Still wiping his bloody tears away, “And you can’t come home to me acting as though I wouldn’t have accepted you exactly as you are. I’m not mad that you’re a vampire, Satoru—you know that. I’m upset because you left me to think you were dead. I mourned you.”

“I know,” He whispers for the nth time, turning his face into your palm and kissing it delicately, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m unsure how many different ways I can say that but I mean it, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything.” Gojo expresses in that breathy voice of his. Then his gaze trails elsewhere, “I tried to, honestly. The first thing I wanted to do when I was turned was run back to you but… if I’d done that, I could’ve accidentally killed you. I had new powers I couldn’t control a-and… I can’t even begin to imagine a life without you, sweetheart. I only exist where you do.”

Your heart aches and his words are starting to feel like a cursed apology, “I…”

His hands come to your wrists for a second before he pulls his face out of your hold and leans all the way up. 

In his mind, he’s cursing at himself for not coming home sooner. He’s been in control of his powers for months. Hell, he’s even been lingering outside the house on multiple occasions. All those times you felt as though his ghost was haunting you? He was actually there, somewhere off in the distance connecting with you via silent entries on your mind.

“If this is too much,” Gojo begins whilst looking off to the front door. He was going to do it again, run away and avoid facing you as he is. “I can leave. If you can’t handle or accept all this now then just say the word and I’ll—”

You cut him off sharply, your voice trembling through gritted teeth, and a hand of yours coming up to tug him back down to you, “Satoru, if you ever leave me again, I’ll drag you out into the sunlight and let your ashes decorate our lawn.”

“Well, shit… t-that’s a bit of an oxymoron, don’t you think?” He chuckles nervously in response. When he notices you find humor in that too, and your lips twitch to fight off a smile, his head tilts dotingly, “Did you miss me that much, sweetheart?”

You glare at him, “You can read my mind, you know the answer to that already.”

In reaction, Gojo eases his way down to you again and his mouth ghosts yours, “Does this mean I can kiss you again?”

“Just once more,” You lie so obviously through the same lips that are meeting him within the next second.

This time the connection is softened with all the desperation of two people who’ve been starving for a year. His body is slow to sandwich down against yours again and it’s as though the depressive weight on your shoulder was finally lifted again.

Gojo’s lips are tentative and loving now as opposed to the messy, desperate movements from before. His grunts are lighter at his throat and your tongues dance in and out of one another’s mouths in a familiar rhythm. You were finally feeling whole again.

Your other half had returned to you and although he was different and although the two of you should probably be taking this a lot slower than you were, one year without any sort of stimulation mixed with grief really does something to the human body.

You don’t even know when your legs wrapped around Gojo’s waist or when he started grinding his hard cock down against your clothed cunt again but you do know it feels better now than it did a few minutes ago. Perhaps it’s because most of the tears and heartfelt confessions were out of the way.

Or, maybe it was because the movement of his body against yours was something you accepted now.

Not that this means you won’t tease him in between kisses to cover up the worked-up noises at your throat. “I still hate you, y’know,” You’d whisper, though Gojo heard the baselessness in your words.

“Yeah?” He snickers, smiling softly against your lips before the shape of his cock pressed right up between your steadily drooling folds and slicked panties, “Want me to suck your clit as an apology next?” He offers.

You gasp at his crudeness, “Satoru!”

To which he only grins and tilts his head a little, eyes low on yours, “You’re laughing but m’serious…”

“I’m not letting you fuck me that easily…” Your hand readjusts across his chest and you push him away enough to look down at his scars again, “You just got back.”

Gojo groans and lets his eyes roll at your claims, “And we’ve so much lost time to make up for.” He protests, hand coming up over yours as he whorishly guides it down his chest, “Plus… I’m a lot stronger now.”

You cock a brow as your gaze flicks back and forth between the sharp abs against your palm and his gradually blushing expression, “So?”

A snarky grin spreads out across his rose tinted lips, “Don’t you wanna test out this new strength of mine? C’mon, you were just wondering how vampire bodies work and now you’ve got one right in front of you—willing to do anything to heal what he’s broken.”

You grit your teeth and he stops your hand right against his pelvis, letting your fingers tease the veins that trail down to the same cock rubbing against your cunt through many tiresome layers of clothes. 

It doesn’t take much more for you to give in, “I hate it when you sweet talk me…”

“You love it,” He argues.

Your hand slips down all of a sudden—catching him off guard—and snags onto the waistline of his pants, fingertips teasing beneath the fabric. The sound of his breath hitching doesn’t go unnoticed and when you look up, you feel yourself throb at his reaction.

Gojo’s jaw has fallen open slightly and you see him fighting with his fangs as if to keep them at bay. They keep sharpening slightly and then retracting in tandem with his fluttering white lashes as if he were fighting his own lust.

Smirking, “Hey, Satoru…” The moment your voice hits his ears, you watch his fangs uncontrollably elongate in raw reaction to the sound. “Why do your teeth keep doing that?” You ask with faux innocence.

Gojo lets out a long and heavy breath of air before swiping his tongue over his teeth and clicking his tongue, “Think of it like a vampiric boner…”

You snort, “What? That’s a thing?”

“Obviously,” He replies sassily. “And I can’t even control it, every time you touch me, I—“

You purposefully start peeling his pants down to reveal more of his carved V-line to your greedy eyes and earn an aroused hiss from the man. It’s not until you pull the fabric down enough to expose a sliver of his needy cock that Gojo snatches your hand away and pins it up above your head.

Low and heavy, “...Is this your way of saying you’re ready to make up for lost time or what?” He sears, eyes glinting with a primal desire for you, who’s laid all too prettily beneath him.

A slip of drool decorates his bottom lip and his fangs seem almost sharper than they did before, bared with another low hiss exiting his throat as you answer him with one shy nod of your head.

———

And approximately six minutes later he’s in between your legs.

What can you say, you’re an easy woman when it comes to your ex-boyfriend Gojo. That, and it’s been a whole year since you’ve had sex! Do you know how crazy that drives a person?

Well, when your ex began kissing downwards and rubbing his thumbs greedily against your inner thighs before spreading them out, you just couldn’t help but give in entirely. 

“Goddd, I missed my girl,” Gojo’s moaning now, “Look at her, just as sloppy ‘n wet as I remember. Mwah,” He presses a nasty kiss to your soaked pussy lips, a glistening mess of slick stringing in between the connection as he continues running his mouth. “Mmnh, did you miss me, baby? Yeah? Y’missed ‘Toru, didn’t you?”

Then he’s expertly tonguing his words deeper into your cunt as if to prove a point, the lathering licks from the pink muscle echoing all throughout the living room. You wanted to hate how easily you sprawled your legs out for him but, he was your boyfriend after all—at one point, anyway.

Plus, he’s unfairly good with his tongue.

Back arching up and mouth left agape, “S-Satoru… I hated when you-, mmgh! T-Talked to my pussy then, hah.. what makes you think I like it n-now?” You ask in between breathy moans.

There’s a constant thump from his hips as he humps his hard cock against the couch, aching for some type of friction again whilst he suckles your clit into his mouth with wanting fervor. 

Sloppy and uncaring of how debauched he is, “I dunno, maybe the way she’s suckin’ my fingers in like the slutty girl I remember her to be,” Gojo husks out in that arousend ‘n raspy baritone of his before prying his mouth away and replacing it with two thrusting fingers that waste no time stimulating your g-spot, “Ain’t that right, pretty?” He snickers, watching your pussy gush out more aroused slick against his skin, “Ohhh, there’s the spot, huh? Yeah, I still remember.”

“P-Please shut up,” You moan as your eyes cross a little. You’ve got a hand flying down to his wrist as if to guide his fingers where you want them but your light grasp is futile since he seems to remember every tender spot inside your honeyed walls, “Fuck-, you’re so embarrassing…”

“You can’t say that while you’re cumming on my fingers,” Gojo points out as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Sad thing is, you didn't even realize the gluey mess that was quickly decorating his fingers in thick uncontrollable globs. “Kinda’ hypocritical if you ask me..” He adds with a cheeky smile on his face.

Then his two digits are hastily scissoring your insides to prepare you for what’s to come as he knows you haven’t been with anyone else since he’s left and although your insides are exactly as he remembers them to be, he almost feels as though you’re squeezing his fingers tighter than you ever have before.

And the way your gorgeous slick spurts out at his every word has him smiling way too proudly, “All that arguing and yelling ‘n yet all you needed was a couple of fingers to get you to act right again, huh?” Gojo says cockily.

You groan through gritted teeth as your soft walls clamp around him and your legs twitch to shut and run away from the pleasure you were receiving, “Y-You know, mmgh, damn well you’re the one who was actin’ wrong,” You argue back, hips steadily reeling away from him.

Scoffing at the cute attempt, Gojo quickly brings his other hand up to your hip and snags your body right back towards him as he dives his mouth back down against your clit and signs the letters of his name out around your clit in what feels like cursive. Drooling against the twitching bud profusely as if every drop of your taste was coaxing him towards something premature.

And it was, Gojo felt his plumped cockhead jumping in between his constant humps against the couch, smearing precum all over his boxers and leaving a sticky mess of need that he knew he’d probably be embarrassed about later. Especially since it only takes fingering you to one more orgasm for his own to come crashing over him like a tidal wave, creamy cum soiling his crotch awkwardly.

Then it gets worse because you notice, you see how his eyes gloss over and watch the way he starts crying at how blissfully good it feels—as if he’d been holding it in for a while prior to now. Broken mutters of, “Fuck that feels s’good,” Tiptoing past his slobbed lips before he plucks his fingers out of you.

You’re a mess yourself but he’s definitely far worse. Staring up at you with tear-stained cheeks, Gojo merely takes it a step further and lets you ogle the way he sucks your taste off of his fingers and rolls his eyes back in the midst of doing so.

After which he’s operating like a male beyond possessed and steered by his own lust. It’s been way too long since he’d been inside you and if you thought his cock would soften after one pathetic orgasm then you clearly underestimated a few things about him.

Now, sex with Gojo as a human was one thing in itself but sex with Gojo as a vampire makes you feel dirty.

Minutes later and he’s got his cum lathered dick sprung out and slapping against his abdomen, smearing his own mess against his skin whilst he takes one hand and uses it to pry your thighs apart again—his other set of fingers wrapping around his heavy girth and giving himself a couple of needed and lazy strokes.

His body was on fire and he felt as though if he didn’t stuff himself past the twitching spread of your pussylips any second now, he would die of a different kind of thirst that wasn’t exactly vampiric…

When he starts angling himself up against your cunt, mushroomy tip scribbling his milky seed against your folds, his fangs begin to sharpen again. “I missed you s-so fuckin’ much,” Gojo groaned as his cock finally began to slide past that stubborn ring of resistance he’s sure missed him just as much.

The way your glossy folds stretch around his blushing head is enough to make his eyes glint with that burning hunger of his again and—one more—you’ve never felt like a slut more than you did right now. 

“Did you miss me? Huh? Tell me,” Gojo would whisper out. Of course, you can’t tell if that’s to you or pussy, who’s he’s busy caressing messy rubbings against as if that would ease how difficult it was to take him in. It felt as though he got even bigger than you remembered him to be and hell, maybe he did. “I need to hear it, please…”

You nod hurriedly and your body is itching to pull away for a moment to breathe, “Y-Yes, I missed you, Satoru… ohm-mygodd, I missed you s’muuch,” You whine out into the air convincingly enough to urge his hips into suddenly snapping forward.

The two of you choke out the same moan in sync and his head falls back, “Ohh f-fuuck,” Gojo voices hotly. Then he rolls his head so that his eyes could fall down on you and make sure you weren’t struggling to take his cock too badly,  “Yeah, I missed you too… “ He coos, “Thought about you everyday, sweetheart...”

Between the breaths he was unintentionally fucking out of your lungs, you manage a breathess, “Did you? Or d-did you just think about… hahh-, fucking me?” 

He smiles almost wickedly, “Both, my love.” Then he’s down against your ear in the next second, fangs grazing your skin, “I only dreamt of being inside you like this again. Hah, look at youuu.” He purrs whilst glancing down and watching the way his dick glides almost all the way out of you so unfairly gorgeously. Then, Gojo snickers, “Missed me s’much you won’t even let me go, how cute…” He comments, tip still poking against your entrance.

“Satoruuuu,” You begin to whine at the lack of him inside you and he doesn’t waste any time making it up by taking your legs into his hands.

“I hear you sweetheart, relaax. M’not pulling out, just wanna..” He palms the underside your thighs and pushes them up, up, up so that your legs are sandwiched snuggly to your chest, “Theree we go, now I can fuck this pussy properly,” He accentuated with a simple, yet brutal push into you again.

His long cock snags deep against the plush insides of your enveloping pussy and the way he’s got your body pinned to the couch and completely unable to lift or even move a muscle to escape his thrusting has your moans coming out in stammered breaths.

Gojo’s length is greedy ‘n one big, messy mess against your insides, hitting that spot to make you see streaks of blinding white stars in seconds. The constant slap of his heavy balls against your skin plows throughout the room and you were being stuffed to the brim with him up until you couldn’t even think about anything else.

The only time you get some type of break is when he hauls your left leg up and starts pumping his veiny girth at a new angle, his head turning and lips meeting your calf. Then Gojo starts licking the skin there, one leg wrapped around tightly as his hips hammer forward and your body jerks in tandem.

“J-Just one more taste, sweetheart. Please,” He whines suddenly, trailing his eyes over to your cockdrunken state, “I won’t make a mess this time, promise…”

You could hardly make out what he was saying considering how dumb he’d fucked you on his cock so, all you do is give him one messy nod of your head and the next thing you feel his im driving his fangs into your leg.

The pain is nowhere near excruciating this time. If anything it feels good, so good that you’re squirting around his shaft with that translucent liquid before you even realize it. Your moan is loud enough to fill every hallway of your house and Gojo’s losing his mind all the same.

Smiling into the wound he’s actively creating, “You’re so sweet,” He praises, his other hand moving from your thigh and over to where his cock is pumping in and out of you so that he can press down. “Fuckin’ delicious… Does that feel good, baby?” He asks in between his slovenly laps, ”A-Am I still makin’ my girl feel good, huh?”

“Y-Yes ‘Toru,” Your voice is hardly there but even if you’d thought those pretty words out, he would’ve reacted all the same.

Groaning, “Fuuck, I missed that nickname.” Then your gummy walls start squeezing around him again and he feels his cock trembling for release, “Aah, b-baby… m’gonna cum,” He whines honestly, “You feel too-, fuck, n-no.. you taste too good, I’m…” He finally stops sucking and lets himself gulp your blood down his throat, eyes widening in sheer bliss before he looks down at you carnally. Voice many pitches deeper, “Sweetheart, you gotta let me cum inside you.” Gojo huffs.

You finally break out a smile as your mind makes enough space to think about your searches from earlier in the night and your hand grips onto the couch a little tighter, “Mmgh, ahh… y-you need my permission to do that, huh?”

“Fuck, don’t tease,” He whines again, eyes glossing over again whilst his thrusts grow erratic, “P-Please don’t fuckin’ tease me… J-Just say I can… fuuuck… baby, please.. please?”

“You could always-, mmnh, pull out,” You giggle cockdrunkenly.

Gojo groans as if you just cursed at him and his hips snap forward with more vigor, fucking a drooling head of curses into you hard enough to have your vision numbed with stars again, “You really think I can-, hahh… go a year without bein’ inside this pussy and-, fuck.. not breed her when I get back?” He asks, mind barely even present in this conversation.

All he can think about at this point is filling you with his seed and fucking something dangerous into you. Perhaps if he’d done that a year ago, he would’ve never taken so long to return…

“S’toru,” You babble as drool trickles down to your chin and he starts repositioning slightly again.

“Let me cum inside,” Gojo huffs whilst folding you back into the meanest mating press, “Sweetheart, let me fuck my cum into you, please…” His voice cracks into something beyond submissive as his eyes fight a crossing, “I-I can’t… pleasepleaseplease—“

“Satoru!” You gasp out instead of saying what he wants to hear.

To which he takes a slightly different approach and comes up to your ear again, “I’ve been a good boy for you haven’t I?” He asks so abruptly that it catches you entirely off guard.

“W-What?” You stammer cutely.

“Reward me,” Gojo demands in return, leaning up just a little to look you dead in the eyes with want pouring out of their blued haze, “Let me breed this pussy again… I-I’ve earned it, yeah?” He questions adorably. To which you shake your head and his body shudders. Making him grumble, “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”

A smile breaks out across your face and you chuckle breathlessly, “I-I know..”

Gojo moves suddenly and his hands snake under your entire frame, grabbing at the fats of your ass before he steadies himself on the couch and starts pulling your body up to meet his bruising thrusts, the couch beginning to shake and even shake violently as he does so.

You’re a mess of drool and faint tears as he does that, the feeling of his thick cock prodding at the syrupy hilt of your pussy in a French-kissing manner has you gasping for air and clawing at his back hard enough to leave more scars. “‘Toru-, ohmygod,” You cry out, “O-Okay, fuuck.. you can cum inside me…”

“Uh-uh, you can say it better than that,” He opposes. You hate the way he always manages to get precisely what he wants out of you, “Tell me what I wanna hear, what exactly do you want me to do, huuh?”

“You’re s-so fuckin’… shit-, a-annoying,” You mumble before finally, finally giving in, “I want you to breed me, ‘Toru.”

“Thereee she is,” And then it’s instantaneous the way his cum flushes out into your cum, each drop fucked deeper and deeper into your tight cavern to make sure it takes. “Never gonna leave you again,” Gojo whispers lovingly to contrast the carnal movement of his hips whilst his cock thrashes against your womb.

Your fingernails are still lightly lodged into his back but you manage out one heavy breath of, “You better not…”

Which lets you know that, apparently, the random Reddit thread you scrolled through was wrong…

Vampires do, in fact, need permission to cum inside you after all!

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