#rottenomelet

Gojo Satoru

In no world could I ever imagine Gojo Satoru treating you like a real human being.

He is the strongest. There is no one who could destroy him. He can see all. And the issue isn’t just that he’s the best, it’s that he’s been told that since the day he opened his bright eyes. He has a big ego and it’s justified because there is no one better than him.

And sure he’ll indulge you. He'll laugh at your jokes and console you when you cry. But in the back of his mind, in every kiss to your forehead, in every smile, there will always be a domineering aspect. Because he knows that you are insignificant in the grand scheme of the world. you are only important because he deemed you worth something.

You’re not quite a toy or a pet to him. You’re more like - an indoor plant to him. Something that needs nurturing from his caring hands, watering and sunlight granted to you by him. You adapt and grow according to his needs and his conditions. But at the same time, you are to be cherished. never handled too roughly, case you begin to wilt. You don’t have to do much but sit and be nurtured and be pretty while he gives you whatever he deems necessary for your survival.

It fascinates him, really, how simple your little life is. How much you don’t know and never will know because as a flower, all you need to understand is that water and sunlight and love are given to you before you’ll even realize that you need it.

But you still have a job to be pretty and sometimes that’s sitting on the bed, still, as he observes you or bouncing on his cock. It just depends on the day.

Geto Suguru

Suguru is a calm man, a quiet man. He makes decisions based on logic. He is not exactly one for emotional outbursts, and even at his angriest, he rarely raises his voice.

But you.

A little non-sorcerer that can’t even see curses somehow made him look twice. Little unimportant you constantly runs through his mind. What you’re doing, what you’ve eaten, what places you’ve gone to. Who you’ve talked to, who your friends are. Your hobbies, your interests. Your lips and your eyes and that special something between your legs.

Just thinking about you, even innocently, makes him harden. It’s uncomfortable, it’s infuriating, it’s maddening.

He thought, surely someone in your family was a sorcerer, a powerful one at that. But no, your family is normal. You are, genetically, as average as they come.

He doesn’t treat you softly at first, doesn’t have a mind to. You’re a filthy little nothing, after all. When he fucks, he fucks without care. Suguru treats you like a doll, not made of porcelain but made of cloth, one he can throw around and still be in decent condition. He keeps a hand pressed to your mouth, to keep your voice down. A blindfold around your eyes so he doesn’t have to look into them. Your hands are bound behind your back so you don't touch him even by accident. Flat on your stomach, unable to see or feel or say anything is how you find yourself every time. He doesn’t even come inside of you, the only thing you’re grateful for.

It’s scary, how roughly he treats you. But it’s downright terrifying when he begins to lay softer hands upon you, begins to kiss instead of bite, caress instead of pinch.

Nanami Kento

He is a very traditional and stern man.

You are, silly, to him. stumbling and bumping and in general, unsure of yourself and what to do. But he sees potential. Even when you’ve tripped over thin air or broken something by accident, there’s a certain grace to your movements. A grace he wants to harvest and invest in.

And while he wants to give you direction, he also doesn’t have the patience or time to teach you like he wants. So, it’s best to ‘learn on the job’ when it comes to Kento.

Learn how to cook his favorite meals and bake the sweets he loves just right. When he’s okay with speaking and when he needs quiet. Remembering to kiss him goodbye every morning and remove his coat for him every night.

Learn how to suck his cock right - which vein is most sensitive, when to suckle and gag and slurp, what noises to make, and remember to always always swallow. He hates messes after all.

Learn his favorite positions. The lingerie sets he like best. How loudly he wants you to be. Accept his cum in your tummy with a smile.

It’s not hard - please him and you will be rewarded. Rewarded with pleasure, with time outside, with gentle hands.

And if you stumble or forget, he will easily remind you of your job.

Mahito

You’re his personal entertainment. You’re an experiment.

Mahito is incredibly laid-back, even lazy to an extent. He lets you roam and explore and fall. He doesn’t care what you do as long as you stay within the four walls he’s placed you in.

It's hard to understand him. For a curse, he’s always laughing, finding almost child-like joy in the most odd things. Whether that’s watching an animal documentary or wondering if a human’s neck can extend like the turtles on TV.

One thing you do know is that he likes games and he likes playing with you. The only problem is you don’t when the game starts and ends, the rules or even if you’re playing right. Oftentimes, you find yourself playing a game that you don’t know the rules of and Mahito has named himself the gamekeeper.

He usually starts by asking a question. Something simple like “What time did you wake up?” or “What did you eat today?”. You find out the hard way that no matter what you say, you’re always wrong.

Say you woke up at ten? Then you’ll find yourself pressing into the mattress, drooling on your pillow as he drills you, punishing you for waking so late in the day. You had a slice of cake earlier? Then don’t be surprised when you’re in the kitchen licking icing off his cock as punishment for an unhealthy lunch.

Itadori Yuuji

He's the jock that gave you a chance. That made you feel special and pretty and popular.

He's sweet. He gives you his hoodie when you’re cold. He drives you home after school. Buys you lunch when you can’t afford it. Takes you on nice dates.

He wants you sitting front row at all his games, wearing his varsity jacket so everyone knows you’re his girl. He twirls you and kisses you in front of the whole school when he wins, the whole thing right of a cheesy rom-com.

But, surely, you didn’t think he was doing all that for free? No, he wants compensation. He deserves a reward for treating you so sweetly. It's only fair.

It doesn’t matter if you’re ‘not ready’. No, no, you’re just nervous, sweetheart. But he’ll be gentle with you so calm down. Yeah, calm down when he slides a hand up your skirt on a date to the movies. Be quiet when he asks you for head in the janitor’s closet between classes. And don’t make a fuss when he slips his cock inside of you, raw, even though you begged him to use a condom.

‘Rubbers hurt,’ he says. ‘It feels better raw’,’ he pleads. ‘Don’t worry - I'll pull out.,’ he promises.

And you better be understanding when he comes inside of you. Afterall, he’ll buy you a plan b.

Choso

Whatever you do, do not stress this man.

He’s going through enough as is. The last thing he needs from you is any attitude or ungratefulness. Even an upset face will have you with your knees pushed beside your head and Choso making you scream, all while watching you with that same tired expression.

Choso is the oldest of ten siblings. He is used to dealing with bratty behavior. He handles your tantrums with grace - once you’ve finished throwing things and screaming, he’ll only ask if you're finished. And then he will be upon you.

Having you as his responsibility brings him immeasurable joy. Choso is prideful about how well he’s taken care of you, how much brighter and healthier you’ve looked since he’s taken you into his care.

He’s attentive to your needs like no one else, recognizes what you need even before you do. If you take any medication, he reminds you of it. He makes sure you drink enough water, that you eat balanced meals at healthy times, that you go to bed on time every night. Choso does not allow you much personal time for hobbies but he has no qualms about an - approved - book now and again, or even a tv show as long as you watch it with him.

Any nasty habits you have - smoking, drinking, not eating right, insomnia - he goes through absolute lengths to ‘cure’ you of. It’s not that he thinks these things make you imperfect, but rather that you’re his/. His darling, his responsibility - it just won’t do to have you feel anything but 100% good all the time.

Of course there is the more… concerning side of this attentiveness. He’ll mention special dates (an old friend’s birthday or the graduation of a family member). Choso will bring up tv shows you used to love but forgot about, give you comics you were once interested in but deemed too expensive. He even knows your cycle, buys you sanitary products the day before you begin. Choso sees no issue in telling you when you’re ovulating.

(“You’re at your most fertile today.” He’ll mention during dinner and you freeze. Your stomach churns as you process what he just said.

Choso doesn’t have to eat so he likes to sits there and watch you eat dinner. It was awkward at first, the man not much for talking and you reluctant to converse with your capturer. But as time passed, the two of you could at least exchange comments here and there for the duration of the meal.

Choso pays your discomfort no mind. “I know your stomach hurts, but try to eat a bit more. You have a busy night ahead of you and I want you at your best.”)

You’re in his capable hands now - there’s no reason to even think when Choso is there.

He’s caring in different ways too.

Choso loves your reactions. The way your brows scrunch, when you bite your lip, when your eyes roll into your skull. When your toes clench and your hips twitch and your thighs tremble. The sounds you make - heavens bells could never compare. Whether you’re moaning, whining, screaming, or crying his name, Choso revels in anything that leaves your lips.

He finds that the easiest way to get you to react is when his tongue is between your legs. You practically sing for him then.

The only thing he doesn’t like is how difficult it is to see your face when he’s down there. Because of this, his favorite position is with you on your back and your knees hooked over his shoulders. His face in your cunt, his eyes on you as he licks your most delicate place. He holds your shaking thighs apart as he suckles your clit. Choso practically moans with you when you cum on his tongue.

He doesn’t stop after one - doesn’t see a reason to. He’s here to take care of your every need - one orgasm isn’t enough for him.

(“No more. Please no more.” You whimper as you plead for Choso to have mercy on your sweet pussy.

You’ve come thrice on his tongue already. You’re shaking uncontrollably and the only reason you haven’t collapsed onto the bed yet is because Choso is holding you up. You’re overstimulated and your cunt aches. You can feel your clit pulsate on his tongue.

Choso only pauses his ministrations to reply. “You can handle it. You’ve done it before.”

He kisses the top of your cunt before sliding his tongue back against your special place. His tongue slides against your inner labia, only teasing your clit by circling it.

Your head falls back as moans spill out. It’s all just too much. You’ve never experienced pleasure like this - no one ever good enough at this to make you enjoy oral to this extent.

But Choso? Choso is a master at understanding your pleasure.

“I can’t.” You say, keening as you do.

“You can.” He responds and this time you know he’s not giving you any other options. “Just a little more, love. I know you can take it.”)

But even though Choso loves taking care of you, sometimes he needs to be taken care of.

He needs cuddles more than he would like to admit. He likes to lay on top of you with his head in your chest and your hand in his hair, scratching at his scalp. Choso likes praise, though he’ll never ask for it. Tell him he’s a good big brother, that he’s a good man to you too. He’ll be over the moon.

He’s quiet. He never reveals much of himself unless you prompt him to. He’ll always answer any question you have for him, adhere to most requests. But Choso will always be surprised, pleasantly so, when you show interest in him or want to spend time with him.

And when it comes to more human things, you find yourself leading. Kissing, hugging, holding hands. All things Choso has never heard about until you.

He was a shy kisser at first but now he absolutely loves it. That closeness? It’s something he could never replace.

You take one more deep breath before starting to sink down. His tip pops inside all too easily and it makes you near sick - it’s almost like it belonged/ inside of you.

Your wrists flex against your bindings behind your back as you take him inch by inch. Aizawa had your hands tied with a pretty pink ribbon, a mockingly perfect bow on top.

He looks all too happy to lay back and watch you, a lazy little smile on his face as you slowly take his cock inside.

The slide inside is easy, wet. As you take him, inch by tantalizing inch, your cunt feels full. It feels betrayingly good and you struggle to hold back a shiver once you’ve got him completely inside. You pause and try to catch your breath. You just need to calm down, get a grip on yourself.

‘Not turned on, not turned on. This doesn’t make me happy. I hate this man. Remember that he stole you away. God, please don’t cum. Not again.’

Aizawa tilts his hips up a bit, making you yelp. “Start riding, kitten. I don’t have all day.”

You may hate him but you know better than to defy him. Reluctantly, you start to bounce.

You can feel your resolve start to crack at just the first thrust. It feels so good/. Like all your best nerves are in your pussy, and his cock is brushing against every one of them. It doesn’t help that he’s been the only thing inside of you, touching you, for months. Your cunt has practically molded to fit his cock, and his alone.

Your breasts bounce along with you and embarrassingly, you feel his eyes watching them do so. Your fingers twitch but you do nothing to stop his heated gaze on your tits.

His hands go from behind his head to on you in an instant. One on your hip, squeezing, and the other to one of your jumping tits. His calloused fingers massage your boob for a moment before his thumb flicks your pebbled nipple. You moan at the feeling and he smiles.

You stop hopping in exchange for grinding - he can’t feel you up if you’re jumping like a bunny. The realization that you don’t want/ him to stop, that you like those rough hands on your soft tits, is horrifying. But you can hardly think when his tip is brushing that delicious/ spot inside of you.

“You’re so cute like this. All tied up with a bow, just for me.” The hand squeezing your hip travels south and makes it way to your hot mound. “Doesn’t this feel good?”

It’s sad how little coercion it takes for you to nod your head and moan - such a good little girl for him. “Yeah, yeah. Feels so, mmh, so good.”

His thumb reaches your clit now, pressing against it, as his other hand has taken to pinching your sweet nipple. “You like taking a ride on my cock?”

You can feel the pressure building. Oh gods, it’s gonna happen soon -

“I, I love it!” His thumb drives hard circles into your clit and it’s exactly what you needed to spill over. You throw your head back and your hips rock faster as your orgasm comes over you.

Your cunt pulsates and clenches and quivers. In the throes of your orgasm, you feel him thrust into you and cum. Ropes on white paint your walls and that only makes the orgasm sweeter.

You collapse onto his chest. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer.

your wish isn’t granted, but then again, the universe hasn’t exactly been in your best interest lately anyways. you spend the next twenty minutes or so taking geto’s cock, only taking small gulps of air whenever his grip on your hair loosens and you can tilt your head up a bit. it never lasts long before he’s pushed your head back down, but your grateful for even that small mercy.

you try to focus on anything but the feeling of his cock inside of you. he’s not aiming for your pleasure, you know that well, but it feels betrayingly good whenever he slams into that special spot inside every once in a while.

you keep your noises to a minimum and save for his occasional grunt or groan, only the sound of skin slapping and birds chirping can be heard.

when he finishes, he finishes on your back. he’s never not once finished inside of you which is another small grace. geto’s reasoning is because, “i wouldn’t risk getting a stupid thing like you pregnant.”

as soon as he’s come down from his high, geto removes himself from you as if touching you gives him hives. without his hands holding your hips up, you collapse onto the bed and curl into the sheets. it’s almost as though you’re a puppet whose strings have been cut. he doesn’t say anything as he gets dressed and reties the knot in his hair.

“get cleaned up. i’ll be back tonight.” is the only thing he says as he leaves. the door closes and you only bundle up tighter, bottom lip caught between your punishing teeth. getting back to sleep is futile, you know, but you always take a few minutes to recuperate afterwards.

eventually you rise. you throw the ruined nightgown and sheets into the hamper and draw a bath. once you’re clean and your muscles have relaxed as much as they could in the hot water, you put on another dress. dresses, night gowns, babydolls: they’re the only things he’ll allow you to wear. something about easier access.

you numbly make your way to the garden. you don’t notice anyone in the hall or the paintings hanging up or the whispers around you. you don’t have the energy to care about any of it. once outside, you take your usual seat at your usual bench. a small ghost of a smile appears on your face when you notice a pastry and cup of coffee on the other side of the bench. you know it was the gardeners - they do the same thing every morning but it never fails to make you smile.

“good morning.” you say to one tending to the wysteria tree you’re sitting under. “thank you. beautiful weather we’re having.”

he doesn’t respond, continuing to trim and pluck away. you pay the silence no mind - you know they don’t speak under geto’s orders.

when you asked why no one ever talks to you, naively back in those first weeks, he laughed cruelly. “i told them not to. after all, i see no point in making anyone converse with the house slut.” you stopped asking questions after that.

the day goes on, with you sitting in the garden and the gardeners working around you. once the sun sets, you head back inside for a light dinner that you can barely get down. you go to your room, change into another nightgown, and wait for geto on the bed.

when he walks in, he only gives you a look before he turns to close the door behind him. you know that look and obediently, you put your head in the pillows and perk your ass up.

it’s disgusting, it’s dehumanizing how well he has you trained. but you know better than to fight back, you know what monstrosities await you only a snap away if you put even a toe out of line. so you’re pliant as he lifts up the edge of your gown, no underwear in the way because he refuses to give you any.

you hear the familar shuffle of his robes before that same warm tip kisses your cunt lips. no matter how many times he does it, the breath always gets knocked out of you once he slips inside. his cock is always bigger than you remember, always more consuming than in your nightmares.

tonight is what you classify as an unfortunate night. he’s slamming into that sweet part inside of you more than usual. you moan accidentally and go rigid when you do. but he either didn’t hear or didn’t care because he doesn’t reprimand you for making noise.

it feels good, the pleasure leaving your brain a little fuzzy. when he’s against that spot, it’s easier to focus on the slide of his cock in and out. makes everything feel better and better.

you try to fight the feeling of your orgasm but it’s a losing battle. he goes deep, balls kissing your untouched clit and that tips you over the edge.

when you cum, you bite the pillow to muffle the scream. your world explodes with colors before completely whiting out. you tremble with the force of your orgasm. it’s been weeks since geto last forced you to cum - your body’s unused to the sensation. you can feel your pussy tighten around him, hear him grunt at the sudden warmth.

“you fucking whore.” his hand threads through your hair and tug until you’re looking up at him. his bun has completely fallen apart, sweat soaked messy strands framing his face.

“my cock feels that good? you came and i barely touched you.” his thrusts start back up again, punishing and hard. “this is why i keep you here - a little slut like you couldn’t survive without my cock.”

“say it. say your a slut.”

you know what will happen if you don’t do what he asks. “i’m a slut.”

you thought it wouldn’t be possible but he speeds up. he thrusts harder and harder each time. the sounds of skin slapping get louder, the bed creaks and groans as geto screws you silly. the overstimulation is driving you insane, your poor pussy aches for a break but all you can do is allow your eyes to roll into the back of your head and bite your lip.

“say you’re mine.” his grip on your hair tightens and you yelp without meaning to.

“i-i’m yours!”

“fuck, fuck. say my name.”

you hesitate.

you’re not allowed to say his name. that was the first thing he told you - that it didn’t matter to him what your name is, and that his name is too important for someone like you to know. you only figured it out a week after that by listening to the maids gossip in the halls.

you’ve only called him by his name once. you learned after that to fear those two words.

‘is it a trick?’ you wonder. he hasn’t tried to trip you up in months but you could never know with him.

you don’t have anymore time to think before he delivers a punishing thrust. he doesn’t like to wait.

“g-geto… geto-sama.” you whisper. gods, you’re practically shaking. please, please don’t be some trick.

one, two, three more thrusts and geto’s pulling out just in time to cum all over your butt. his hand lets go over your hair as he comes down from his high. you drop, gracelessly, onto the bed, too worn out to try to sit up. your head falls into the pillow and you just lay there, trying to remember what your name is.

you expect him to let go of you like you’ve burned him. to quickly get his things and scoff at your cum and sweat covered body and then leave you to your own devices.

but he doesn’t immediately jump away from you like he usually does.

instead his hands travel from your waist to your cum coated ass. his left hand pulls your cheek apart as his thumb slides from the other cheek to that untouched hole. his thumb teases that unused entrance, circling it but never entering, making a mess of his cum on your butt.

you’re trembling as he does. in the past, he’s threatened to fuck your butt, just to see you quiver. but he’s never really gone through with that particular threat.

is he going to do it as punishment for saying his name?

luckily you don’t have to worry for long before geto stops. he removes his hands and then himself. he routinely gets dressed and reties the knot in his hair.