kento has a wife at home... a beautiful wife whom he loves very much. he's so in love, he wouldn't ever consider having an affair, the idea is so foreign to him, so unthinkable... until you start your internship at his work.
he's happy in his marriage, he really is! but there's something missing. once a week, sometimes less, kento is granted sex in missionary for as long as his wife allows it. he loves being close to her, but she wont even let him go down on her anymore. she's a busy woman... a tired one, one with no time for foreplay or dirty talk or a proper orgasm.
poor kento is left... pent up. as he's made good on taking care of himself. he fucks his fist in his morning showers, and maybe sometimes he parks his car down a quiet road to relieve himself on his way home. never to porn, always to his imagination or some old pictures he has saved of his wife....
until you 'accidentally' text him a picture of your tits instead of some files he had asked for! and sure, he thinks of deleting it. but he also thinks about how the skirts you wear are so short that every time you bend over he gets to see what colour panties you put on that morning. sometimes, if you've been teasing him a lot that day, he can also see the wet patch forming from how needy you are to be bent over his desk and—
no. he can't. he has a wife! he deletes the pic and brushes off the mountain of apologies you give him the next day.
until a few weeks later he notices your accidents become more frequent, and you start ditching the panties in favour of being able to drop a pen by his desk and bend over to show him just how pretty your pussy looks when she's able to breathe :(
and can he really be blamed? he's only a man at the end of the day, lust driven and deprived at home... he deserves some relief! at least that's what he tells you when he drags you into the employee bathroom and pushes your pretty face up against the mirror while he drives into your wet and gooey cunt over and over again. he's so big and strong and pent up after so long since having a good fuck that he manages to make you cum twice on his cock before spilling his load into you, pulling your skirt down a little and sending you to fetch some papers with his cum literally leaking down ur thighs...
he picks up some flowers for his wife on the way home <3
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toji is grimy and does not give a fuck if you have a boyfriend, he'll even admit the thought of taking what another man has dubbed his 'property' is an arousing one. he's been a thief, you knew this!
leaving your house after telling your man you're going out with the girls, just for him to watch you get into tojis front seat, who has the audacity to wave your boyfriend goodbye alongside you. that's just one of your friends mans... right?
you come home all sweet and sated, like you've really worn yourself out... and when your man tries to initiate sex, he finds you already soaking wet.
"this all for me?" he asks, swiping his fingers through your folds to circle your clit with the slick. "you must've been so needy for me all day to be this wet, baby."
"yeah," you feign, unsure just how to tell your boyfriend that the fingers he's bringing to his lips to suck clean are covered in toji's second and third load of the day.
Warnings: Dub-con, misogyny, name calling, nude photos, coercion, dubcon touching, fem genitalia for reader, mentions of divorce, general perversion, praise, clit play, cheating, readers husband is a scumbag.
(AN: Requested by an Anon early today, and it made me feral.)
Tick... tick... tick... the sound of an office clock rings in your ears, the only sound louder is your heart, pounding in your ribcage. The clock was awfully loud, though you had never noticed it before, when you were coming to bring your husband a warm, home-cooked meal. Maybe then you didn't notice it because you weren't fearing for your future.
Morgan & Cole, the investment firm your husband had been working for for years had been doing better than ever, and in turn, so had your husband. Promotions, expensive raises, and more had been sent his way. The house was even being repainted. All that begs the question, how had you found yourself in this situation.
It was a few nights ago when your husband informed you of the deal he had made with his boss. Morgan, the co-owner of the company, had his sights set on you, apparently. At a holiday party, he approached your husband with an offer, an offer to get a night with you in exchange for another fat raise. You had always known your husband hadn't been the most loving, but you had never imagined his greed could get to this. The worst part was how casual the deal he described was. Approaching a man at an office party and asking to sleep with his life like you were discussing sports frightened you. You had only met Morgan once or twice, and while he seemed charming, him doing something like this made you very much doubt he was in actuality.
You are snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of a door opening. Morgan steps out of his office, fidgeting with his smart-watch when he looks up and sees your meek form in the office lobby. His brow furrows.
"Oh, Mrs. Peters, I hadn't expected you to met me here. I had intended to come pick you up. How long have you been here?" He asks. You gulp. "Not long, just ten or so minutes." You say, trying to hold eye contact. He sighs and shakes his head. "Well, I wish you would have knocked on my office door, I feel awful having left you out here alone. Come, we can head back into my office and chat." His voice is so soothing, and in any other situation it would have been nice. You enter his office, and he closes the door behind him, before sitting at his desk. You take the chair in front of it.
"So, I assume your husband-" His teeth grind as he says this. "Is assume he has gone over what this is about." You nod. "He did... and... and I don't know if I can do this. I don't know you at all, and I'm a married woman." You whimper. Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, and Morgan sighs heavily. He comes around to lean back against the front of the desk, one hand supporting him while the other touches your cheek.
"I know this must be scary, I understand that. But I'm gonna solve both of those problems right now." He kneels down so your eyes meet his. "First, you worry you don't know me. Let me fix that. My name is Morgan Brant, I am thirty-two, and I live in a loft down on 37th. I like charcuterie and making my own organic lattes. I work out everyday, and enjoy walking through the city. I have both of my parents, Ruth and John, and they live in the city as well. Anything else you'd like to know?" You're too stunned and still panicked to respond, so you just shake your head. "Okay, okay. Good." He murmurs. A hand strokes your hair softly, as if trying to soothe a wild animal. To your shock, for a man who basically paid for a co-workers wife to prostitute herself, he does seem genuinely upset at your fear. His eyes are filled with a sorrow, and he chews his bottom lip nervously. He looks down for a moment.
"Mrs. Peters, your second concern, about being a married woman, is very respectable. I appreciate that you respect the sanctity of marriage so much. I think your loyalty and love for your husband is beautiful." He pauses, and gently grips your chin so you look him in the eyes. "But... I worry that love and loyalty may not be returned. Mrs. Peters, I need you to promise me you will listen to what I am about to tell you." You gulp, his suddenly serious, yet still soft, tone worries you.
He stands, walking to the back of his desk and opening a drawer, grabbing a manila envelope before sitting down at his chair again. He pushes the envelope towards you, folding his hand together and sitting up. He looks as those this odd exchange is yet another business deal, as he sits like a man prepared to do whatever it takes to seal a deal. A real businessman. Your hand trembles as it opens the envelope. Your heart stops.
Inside, your husband can be seen in several photos, from many different angles. Some looked ripped from security footage, others appear to be taken at a distance. However, they all contain the same subject. Your husband, locking lips with various women, every photo a different one. Your hand covers your mouth as you let out a choked sob. "N-no... I mean, he was never warm to me, b-but..." Everything comes crashing down at once. All those nights you waited up for him when he was 'working late', all those warm meals you brought him at work, only to be brushed off so he could talk to his secretary. It all made sense.
"I can't believe this..." You squeak. Morgan shakes his head. "You can believe it, I know you can. He's never loved you, I've seen how he treats you. Rejecting your meals, ignoring you at office parties and work functions. My dear, he is actively sitting at home and preparing to count the bonus he received for pimping you out to me." Morgan exclaims, his shoulders tightening. You put your head in your hands. "I'm... what am I going to do?! I'll divorce him, but I'll have nothing. I, oh god." You cry. Morgan once again moves to try and comfort you. His broad arms wrap around your shoulders.
"I know, I know this is scary. You've been through a lot tonight, your entire marriage even. But it's going to be okay." He cups your face. "I've been watching the two of you, you mostly." He hands you something. An empty tupperware container. "This is from his lunch yesterday. Every meal he rejected from you, I gladly took. I hadn't had the chance to eat something made so lovingly in a long time. They don't serve home-cooked meals like this at business conferences." He chuckles. "I saw how you would cling to him at those same parties he was ignoring you at, and wishing, praying you would cling to me like that." You look up, his confession is shocking. "Your husband... he is a greedy man, but he has pride. I knew I wouldn't even get a moment along with you unless there was something in it for him." He shakes his head. "Darling, I was just as disgusted as you were that he'd agree to that. As excited as I was, as I am for this moment with you, I was thanking whoever is out there that no other person at this office had tried something similar. I'm not some deviant, or criminal. I've had my fair share of sexual encounters, with prostitutes and escorts, but... I never felt anything. I need to feel something. I do with you." He says.
You shake your head. "You don't know me." You say. He shrugs. "You don't need to someone to love them, not at first. I hate to say this, but you didn't really know your husband, did you?" You sob again, and his sticks his hands out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry darling, that was out of line. I just needed to prove a point. What I'm saying is, I don't just want one night of pleasure with you. I want you to be mine. If you left him, you wouldn't be lost or desolate, you would have me. I could give your everything he has and more. Money, a penthouse, and my love. Real love. You deserve someone who wants to care for you the way you cared for that man-child. I can do that." You sniffle. "It's all so soon, and I don't... I'm scared." You say again. "I know. I hadn't wanted to do this here. I had wanted to show you the pictures and confess early on, I had plans to pick you up and take you somewhere nice to eat. I know the last thing you want right now is a fresh new relationship, I understand. But just maybe, the idea of revenge tempts you?" He suggests. You look up, and bite your lip. "What are you suggesting?" You ask.
"He thinks he's better than you, and that you could never leave him, because you have no one else, nothing else. Why else do you think he assumes their will be no repercussions for a night like this? He's so confident that you would never leave him, never even think about another man, that he truly believes you will return to him after he's pimped you out." Morgan moves closer. "I won't lie, I'll enjoy this, but don't just do it for me. Do it for yourself. Give in, leave him for a man who will worship you, who can give you more. Get back at him, and be with me." You shake your head. "You... you paid him to pimp me out to you like this though?" You exclaim. He nods "I had to show you how little he cared for you, same with the investigators I hired to get those photos." He nods in the direction of the envelope, now dabbled with your tears. "Besides, I've already signed his termination papers, I don't hire men like that here. He isn't getting shit for doing this to you." He assures.
In a moment of weakness, you break. The betrayal of the evening, the hurt and the fear, the anger, it's all too much. You sink to your knees, and nod. "Alright, let's do it. Just... be gentle, go slow." He nods. "Oh, my sweet. I'll do whatever you ask." He captures your lips, pressing your back against the front of his desk as he kneels beside you. His lips are soft, and taste of bourbon and mint. He smells like cologne, but a good kind, something smokey. Not like the tacky expensive stink of your husband, now ex-husbands favorite cologne. His tongue prods at your lips, and shyly you part them, allowing his tongue to slip in and suck against yours. He groans, and you both pull away breathlessly. While you take a breath, he immediately latches onto your neck, placing quick, feverish kisses along your collarbone. You gasp at the feeling, shrinking in on yourself. He grins.
"Does it really feel that good, that's quite a reaction." He chuckles. You blush and look to the side. "It's- It's been a while." He frowns and tilts his head. "How long is awhile, darling?" He whispers. "A few months, maybe eight or so." He shakes his head. "My poor girl, doing all that for him and he still wouldn't please you." He grips your waist, his lips on the shell of your ear. "To be fair though, even if he did, he couldn't make you finish. He would please himself, not you. But I won't, baby. Tonight, is all about you." You can feel a thick hardon pressing against your knee.
"Tell you what, darling. Let me make you feel good, real quick. Something nice and easy for my sensitive girl. Then, I'l take you out. I'm not just going to have sex with you without wineing and dineing you. Then, I'll take you back to my place, I-I'll send for your stuff tomorrow, and if you want, we can go for round two." He coos, looking up at you with admiration and hope. "Won't my husband try to resist my stuff being taken?" You ask. He shakes his head. "He's not your husband. If he calls, I'll hang up. He sold you out, and if he gets pissy, I've go the best lawyers in the country at my disposal. I'm not letting you spend one more night under a roof with that man. You aren't Mrs. Peters anymore, you're Mrs. Brant. Now... let Mr. Brant make you feel good." Hands cradle your thighs, slipping the skirt of your sensible slip dress up over your knees. A hand paws at your panties, cupping your cunt as he sighs. "So warm, poor little thing hasn't been touched in months. I've only kissed your neck a little, and your soaked. Is it because I said I love you? Does your little cunt respond well to just being admired and appreciated? Oh, my darling." He slips your panties aside just a little, not wanting to ruin your outfit for dinner later. Fingers part your lips as a long digit strokes up, from your entrance to your clit. A finger prods the entrance, and you gulp at the throbbing heat you feel.
"Gentle, slow please." You murmur. He nods, placing a gentle kiss on your neck before slipping in his digit. His long, calloused fingers rub your neglected walls in all the right ways. "A-ah, Morgan..." You pant. "Good?" He asks. You nod, breathless already. He thrusts it in and out gently, before asking to add another digit. When you nod, he adds another, while his free hand circles your clit with his middle finger. Perhaps its from typing everyday, day in and day out, but he is skilled. Even when your husband has slept with you, you had never felt like this. A coil forms in your stomach as you pant and whimper.
"M-morgan." You moan. "Please, I need to-" You're cut off by him sharply curling his fingers, as they hit a spongy spot deep inside you. "Oh, god. Yes." You moan again. "Cum for me, darling, please. I want to hear you." Morgan's tone is suddenly more desperate ethan you had heard it all night. He's needy, begging to know that he is pleasing you in the way he so desires. "Say my name, would you? I just want to please you, I need to know it feels good." He begs. "Morgan, I'm gonna cum, shit-" Your walls begin to pulse, juices coating his fingers. As you moan, finishing your high, he kisses you feverishly, desperate for closeness.
When you pull away, panting as you come down from your orgasm, he licks your juices off his hands with a squelching noise, putting your panties back into place. He helps you to your feet, and hands your your purse. "Ready for dinner?" He asks. Tired and very hungry, you nod. "Just one more thing, and you don't have to do anything, I've dealt with this myself plenty but-" He looks down, the tent in his pants is still very prominent.
[»»] Hello pretty girl! I have come to you finally with my Uncle Satoru thoughts.
Thinking about how you’re trying to stay away, trying to be happy with your boyfriend. Trying to force the spark between you two. But you have to think about Satoru every time you and your boyfriend have sex so you can cum. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen eachother. You try to ignore him because you know if he asked you, you’d give him everything you have.
a/n. beLoVEDDD thank you for the uncle gojo idea he mAkES ME CRAZY!!! He makes me a bit insane ♡♡ thank you for the support ily ily ily
tw. incest, uncle gojo, coercion, cheating
wc. 1.5k
gojo satoru x fem!reader
“Does that feel good?”
“Look at me. I want you to see me when I fuck you.”
The blond between your legs rubs his tongue in the way you like, swirls it around your puffy nub as two thick fingers slide back in and make your legs twitch, opening further. His hair tickles a little on the inside of your legs, and you hum into a moan that’s half-artificial, half-bodily when the sucking gets to that exact spot you want.
“So desperate. So whiny for your -”
Stop. You stare at a spot in the ceiling not to whine and moan, grip onto his soft hair as you bite your bottom lip, and fight the need. To mewl his name like a prayer the way your body wants. Uncle Satoru. Uncle Satoru. Uncle Satoru.
“Huh?” Kenji’s big eyes find yours blown out and searching, as you whither under his ministrations.
“Said, feels good.” You breathe back, and also shake your lower half left and right for attention. Attention your boyfriend’s more than willing to give as a sweet, encouraging smile slips onto his wet lips, slick dripping from his chin.
“Yeah?” He kisses the bundle of nerves and wraps a hand around your thigh to push it open further, nodding against your pussy. “Gonna get you there again tonight, babe. Don’t you worry.” Because that’s who you’ve become. A girl who can’t cum without thinking of a very specific set of hands on you, a specific shape pushing into your insides. You don’t tell Kenji that, of course.
It’s not his fault you’re ruined. Not his fault that you want the hair lighter, the voice smoother, more languid. That it’s different long fingers you really want tracing your folds and slipping down your throat.
“There you go, pretty girl. My favorite. Favorite fucking pussy in the world.”
Your body shakes as you imagine baby blue eyes staring back at you, smiling as he gets you to your limit. The fingers bounce against that soft, spongy spot and his tongue rubs hard and precise against your clit, and you grab your tits like uncle ‘toru does— the tight coil in your stomach finally snapping. “Agh, aghh- cu-mming. Fuck.” Satoru, satoru, uncle Satoru. You can’t stop yourself from mouthing his name, so you bite your hand to shut it up.
+
It will be fun, is what your boyfriend had convinced you of, cooking for you. It will be fun. But it hadn’t really been the cooking or the fun that had had you dragging your feet. The company, however, is something else entirely.
Cooking in your kitchen means uncle Satoru comes home to see you both cozied up in the small room, invites himself, is now perched against the cupboards with a second home-made mojito. Blue eyes basically staring through you as you do your very best to ignore the sensation. “You like cooking, Kenji?” He mumbles around his straw, catching you when you look at him from the corner of your eyes.
“When she’s the one eating, yeah.” It’s sweet. You feel bitter standing on the other side of the kitchen, trying not to look as longingly as you feel. Every time you catch his shape, all you can think of is his mouth on you, breathing down your neck as he pushes you up against the wall. The exact wall you’re leaning against, tasting his spit and swallowing it with a choked moan.
The way he ripped your underwear down your thighs like it was offensive to see you wearing anything, and patting the flushed, hot head of his cock against your pussy before pushing in. It’s shameful how easy you feel for him.
Your flesh and blood, pedestalled miles above.
His voice is tinted a little dark when he chuckles. “You two kids are adorable.”
This isn’t funny. None of this is fun to you. It sinks your gut, and has you crossing your arms over your chest. “Don’t do that. Don’t treat me like a child.” Satoru’s surprised you even speak at all, it seems, because long white lashes flutter as he rights himself a little more.
Something glimmers in his eyes as he rolls the straw either way between his lips with his tongue. Then he tutts his lips. “You and I both know I don’t treat you like a child, baby.” Baby. Even the way he says the word, full of subtext, makes the heat rise on your cheeks and has you looking away to instead focus on the layers of pasta your boyfriend is carefully placing between each layer of sauce. “You two act like a married couple, s’all.”
“Aren’t you interested in getting married, Gojo san?” Kenji politely asks over his shoulder, and entirely misses the way your uncle -the object of your affections- stares you down with a look that says all too much.
It gives you shivers. His eyes seem to peel your skeleton out from your skin, entirely exposed. “My family would love to see me married off to some other big important family and pop out a bunch of kids. And that’s exactly why I’m not gonna.”
You know he’s talking to you and not to the other blond at all, when he pushes from the cupboards to come to stand before you— towers you more like. And places his hand on your head to pet your hair, before biting his bottom lip as a line of deep thought appears between his brows. “I’ll only do what I’ve always done. Which is whatever I want.” You feel the difference in temperature when the touch moves away, and miss it too much.
+
A knock at your door later that day makes the hairs on your neck stand upright— until you watch him push inside with a look. Blank, unlike him. He traces random figures over the wood grain with a soft noise. “Nice kid.”
Your mouth corners quirk up without you having control over them. Even his presence makes you heat from your toes to your ears. It’s so unfair. “You don’t have to act like it’s the first time you’re meeting him every time he comes by.”
“You don’t bring him around that often. Feels like the first time.” You can’t say anything at that, only go back to tapping your fingers against the keyboard distracted. He walks in, and that distracts you too. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too mean to me?”
“Satoru.”
“-Uncle Satoru,” he corrects, and ends up beside you with two big steps, to tilt your head back by your chin. He’s pouty now. There’s an order to the song and dance, and you’ve messed it up. He holds onto you. “I’ve missed you.”
“U-uncle ‘toru… we said- I thought we’d stop.”
He leans down to trace his fingers over your mouth, before tilting his head to the side. “Who said that?” With baby blues fixed on you, he draws you out from your chair with a single word. “Stand up, I want you to see something.”
It happens whether you like it or not. You end up standing with your toes to his and letting him loop your arms around him, as you longingly look up. Feel his breath dust over your face as he leans down enough to make you cross eyed.
“Y’love your uncle ‘toru? You love me, don’t you?” Your nodding gets interrupted because he kisses you on the lips, gently— then hands drop to your thighs to start sliding under your skirt without hesitation. “Then you should stop lying to the poor guy, don’t you think?”
You melt in his arms to watch him peel the panties from under you, and he snaps the elastic with a teasing smirk. Then he goes to lift you up so you’re hanging onto his shoulders and pressed against the wall. The seam of his pants rides against your cunt when he readjusts, and nudges your head aside to place mean kisses on your throat, biting as he goes. “It’s been so long, baby. You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted your little pussy squeezing around me.”
Your mouth drops open, and your fingers dig into his shoulders. You can feel yourself slicking up at just the thought of him, and let out a moan. The truth comes out whether you want it to or not. When Satoru looks at you, he can see it. Dips his head to push soft lips against you, tongue pushing inside your mouth to taste yours as he rolls his hips in a perfect arc to make you squirm. Your fingers trail through the shorter hair at his neck to hang on, as he smiles. “There’s my good girl. My favorite little niece. You won’t ever grow out of being my biggest fan, will you?”
Your voice hitches when feeling that hard, perfect cock swell against you in his pants. And your head goes cloudy. “Uncle Satoru. Uncle Satoru. Want you- wanna cum with you inside. Needed you so much. Please?”
synopsis: eren jaeger was the best and worst part of your life. your first love, first heartbreak; but what if when you move on, he comes right back and worse than ever?
content warnings: angst(?), smut, porn with plot, p in v, unprotected sex, hair pulling (on eren), biting, reader is gender neutral but afab and femininely dressed, toxic eren, implied cheating, pet names angel, sweets, pretty, possessive eren
a/n: never wrote for eren before. i love toxic men even though i'd probably kms if i fell for a toxic man irl.
eren jaeger was your worst nightmare. your first love on college campus, freshmen year. honestly, the red flags were there - he started flirting the first night you met despite him having his hand on your best friends hip not even a few moments ago before she shoo'd him off in your direction. even worse, it was a halloween party—it was bound to fail from the start.
the flimsy material of the black dress you wore and the fake tail clipped to the back of it to make more of a dressy cat woman outfit. the little cat ears you wore reflected the flashing strobe lights of the room, the glitter etched into the black fake fur shining brightly.
he was eager, a real flirt—he had you fooled. if only you had discovered months prior of his scandals with other women, you would've brushed him off the same way your friend did. but when you ended up on your back that night, arched with sweat pooling down your body and the high of pure ecstasy rushing through your veins, you were hooked.
for the next 6 months, you were treated like the campus queen.
"eren's never settled down so fast.."
"what'd you do to him?"
"what spell did you bewitch him with?"
numerous of your friends had warned you of what would happen. your heart would get broken and you'd ugly cry for days, just like you were known to do even over the slightest inconvenience or frustration from you, but you clung hope. eager to make it work, you gave it your all, yet to eren... your all hadn't been enough.
the countless night you had spent on your back or on your stomach with your head pushed into the pillow, in front of your mirror, spending hundreds on fancy lingerie for him to tear off and promise to buy more had all meant nothing. it wasn't that you were shocked when you found him in a room with another woman he told you not to worry about.
her grin haunts your nightmares, and the glint in his intoxicated eyes still made you sweat in your sleep—you moved to learn on, in peace, but it took you until your sophomore year to begin dating once more. it was a sweet, polite boy, someone who'd surely treat you right.
but somehow, eren lured you right back in with a couple of apologies and wet eyes. he always looked prettiest with those long wet lashes of his batting away tears, not that you'd ever mad him cry—but seeing him sniffle over your own crying still made your heart warm.
he pulled you away from the crowd, hiding in a private room and sitting you down on the bed. he said it was to "talk", to put the past behind you. if that was the case, why was his hand dragging up your thigh?
"eren, no touching—" you gasped quietly once he traced over that one barely ticklish spot on your inner upper thigh, watching the way his dimples formed once he smiled. "i still know your body like the back of my hand, angel. i always will." he whispered, letting his lips run along the soft of your neck. your date, the man you were planning on going right back to, waited for you patiently downstairs while your ex kissed on your skin.
"eren," you muttered desperately, brows furrowing as you pushed back slightly on his shoulders. you squirmed in his hold, the old feelings that you had so desperately pushed down resurfacing quickly. your fingers grasped a hold of his long dark brown hair, the same hair that you had tugged on so desperately months ago while he made home in between your thighs. he giggled against your skin, green eyes leaning in on you.
"too much, sweets? cant handle it? are you really satisfied with the fucker that brought you in here?" eren whispered, the words trailing into your ear and igniting a deep fire within you, "he knows you're still mine, angel. you don't blush the way you used to with me." he muttered, snaking the dress you wore upwards and around your waist, noting the way your panties clung to your body. his pinkie teased the lace of it, grinning just a bit.
he sunk to his knees slowly, spreading your thighs apart just slightly. a hunger took over the both of you, your entire body melting into his touch. parting your lips, you were so tempted to beg, eager to whimper his name and scream it to the top of your lungs without him even ghosting his fingers along your core. his teeth dug into the fat of your thighs, looking up to you as he sucked harshly against your skin.
barely a moment had passed before your clothes were eagerly tugged off and he pushed you on your back, taking in the dips and curves that he had foolishly taken for granted. he breathed in your scent and kissed the crook of your neck once more. after he had prepped and entered the same wet cavern that gripped him like a vice, it took his all not to cum right there and then—no words in the english lexicon could explain how desperately he missed this, more so, missed you.
"pussy s'perfect, dunno how i coulda' thrown this away, fuck," he muttered under his breath. the praise had your toes curling, the angle of which he had you in with your hips slightly upward and your ankles locked around his back, had you seeing the stars you never thought you'd see again. the overwhelming feeling of guilt chewed at you, tears prickling your eyes as you watched him enter and leave you with his thrusts.
it was easy to tell when eren was holding back, and now was that exact time. the usual rough pace that you grew accustomed to within the 6 months of dating was now replaced with something much lighter. it had you think, even just for a moment, if this was really eren. the gentleness in which he cradled you, his thumbs rubbing circles into your thighs as he marked you up from the crook of your neck to the valley of your breasts.
you dont know how many times you sobbed his name, nails digging into his back while sweat covered your bare bodies. "you're s'pretty, don't know why i didn't see that with you, ma," he muttered with a moan, "like that? yeah, felt you get a lil' tighter. fuck, keep clenchin' me like that an' i wont be able ta pull out." he groaned against your skin, and you sobbed, "missed you, 'ren, missed you s'much!" you called out desperately without a care in the world. the bass from the music outside still thumped against your heart, so being loud wasn't an issue.
he shuttered at the sound of your begging, and the gentle thrusts that he had started with growing more erratic. you moaned, the spongy spot inside you that he never had any trouble reaching now being abused. his thumb that had previously rested on your thigh now drew attention to your clit, dragging tight circles around it rapidly as if to bring you impossibly closer to the edge.
"eren," you cried, convulsing as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, "gonna cum, m'gon cum, 'ren!" you warned, waterline wet from tears that had shifted from guilt to those of pure overwhelming pleasure. "cum with me, pretty, you wan' cum? cum with me." eren pleaded with you, those jade eyes of his watching the way he disappeared into your hole.
with his encouragement, you reached and came to your peak. you twitched and arched your back higher and higher until you were struggling to breath, feeling the way eren stilled and helped you ride out your high while his own pent-up cum desperately spilled inside you, filing you to the brim as he moaned.
calming down, he grinned at you. "i'm so sorry i left you, angel," he cooed. he brushed your hair back, kissing your forehead while you stared up at him with the prettiest fucked-out expression he never got tired of. "missed this pretty pussy, missed that pretty little face of yours." he hummed, pulling out slowly with a shlick sound coming as he did. he pulled up his pants and ran out, fetching a wash cloth as he returned.
"promise i'll do better if you just give me a chance and drop that fucker you're talking to," he muttered, kissing the hickeys that lined your neck as you nodded drowsily, "you were always mine, pretty. you never stopped being mine."
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WARNINGS: 18+ Only, infidelity, breeding, misogyny, pregnancy mention, Cucking, Mean husband!Madara, Polygamy, Unnamed Wife, Reader is referred to as the “Bride”.
This brings me back to the concept of Konoha’s Breeding Program. Madara would most likely be stuck in a loveless arranged marriage for the sake of Clan alliance and be stuck with an incompetent wife, whose sole duty was to provide him male heirs. However he would soon find that she is useless and unable to accept his cum to get pregnant. It enrages the Uchiha because he has expectations from his clan to create an heir, soon calling to question his authority and manhood for having an unpregnant wife. The Uchiha suspects she was threw away by her former clan because of her disgraceful infertility, being unable to marry her off to anyone. He takes out his frustrations on his wife without holding back, her life is a living hell. Madara sees this as a sign of deceit and an insult to his manhood. She tries to fulfill her wifely duties by cooking, cleaning, and even offering her body for his pleasure only. However, Madara is too disgusted to even get his cock hard around her because of her infertility. He soon searches for a second wife to bring into their home. He needs a young, fruitful woman to take as his new wife and provide him with strong Uchiha children. The Uchiha does not even tell his first wife of his plans, she is of no importance to him. His first wife will be brandished as nothing more than livestock, her marking would be placed somewhere visible for the common eye to observe. Everyone in Konoha will see this useless woman as a mere object. She is only Madara Uchiha’s wife by legal name, but he will find another woman who will be the first and only in his heart who will fulfill all his desires.
It is likely Madara would find a beautiful, bountiful woman he has admired for awhile. Regardless if she is a Senju or not from a strong clan, he must have this woman and impregnate her immediately. The Uchiha elders grant Madara’s wish to take a second wife, they are also enraged over the botched marriage their clan was given. They were promised many sons and they will have them one way or another. To convince the woman’s family for marriage does not take long. Not many can deny the advances of a strong man like Madara Uchiha, known across the Land of Fire for his merciless battle prowess. The woman will be swiftly taken from her home and injected into his life. She is now his favorite wife and breeding hole. The Uchiha man does not care if his First Wife is greatly insecure over this new addition to their household. He tells her that his Bride will become head of the household when he is not around. She must obey his Bride’s every demand. The poor First Wife quickly becomes a slave to her own marriage. She is forced to watch as Madara happily fucks his new Bride in their shared bed. He has no qualms letting his First Wife know that this new Bride’s pussy feels better than hers. He is vocal about how much he is filling up the new woman with fertile sperm–guaranteed to plant a seed to grow into a strong Uchiha son.
Madara is a cruel husband. After long sessions of fucking his new Bride, he will call onto his First Wife and demand she clean them up. He smirks while watching the way tears brim his First Wife’s lashes, as her hands delicately swipe away her husbands precious cum with a rag from the Bride’s swollen pussy. If he is feeling particularly crude, he may even demand she clean with her tongue. Something about making his useless First Wife eat out his Bride makes his cock stir, ready for another round of ruthless breeding. Madara cannot get enough of wetting his cock with his Bride’s fertile pussy. She was a tight virgin when they married, now he has molded her into the perfect cock-hungry slut that constantly begs for sex. The couple does not bother hiding their sexual encounters. Often times the First Wife watches as Madara rails and completely fucks the brains out of his Bride. Her moans carry around the entire estate and Madara’s groans are music to her ears, she has never even heard a sound from him when they consummated their marriage. The final nail in the coffin would be when Madara has his Bride ride his cock in the middle of the night as his First Wife sleeps, however they all know she is awake and knows what is happening. It is laughable how the First Wife accepts her new life.
The Bride, while reluctant at first, feels a peculiar bubble of joy over having power to run her own household. She may not be cruel to the First Wife, but she isn’t afraid to flaunt her favoritism around the home. She doesn’t clean up the cum running down her legs after a quick fuck with Madara, allowing it to show freely to the First Wife as she cooks dinner. The Bride will even offer to have the First Wife join them in bed, but merely only as a joke. Knowing fully well Madara cannot keep an erection around the woman. After Madara arrives each day, his first objective is to check in on his Bride and give her a healthy load of cum. They are trying for a baby again. She is bound to be pregnant already but the man just can’t get enough of her pussy. After a quick fuck he will demand his First Wife to serve them dinner. Of course, she is not allowed to join them at the dinner table, her spot taken by the new beauitful, radiant Bride.
The Uchiha Clan is elated to finally have a woman to bring pride to their honorable clan. They disregard the First Wife and completely ignore her as Madara’s wife, the Bride is the true beauty of the clan. When she is heavily pregnant, they absolutely flock to her side and spoil the Bride. She is given extravagant kimonos to accommodate her ever growing belly and fed only the best food. Madara is beaming with pride over his Bride. She will birth him as many sons as he needs to carry on his superior Uchiha genes.
love is rising, no resisting. cheeks are flushing, now you're living.
explicit content - mdni. infidelity, husband!kuroo, wife!reader, co-worker!fem oc, angst, too much plot, not proofread!
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"shit, that was close."
the reclinable chair creaks under his weight as he leans back, his forearm covering his eyes, but the relieved smile on his lips brings a veil of youthfulness to his tired eyes. kuroo has never felt so much bliss just by turning off his computer, signaling he's finally free from the claws of his 9 to 5 that, somehow, had turned into a 9 to 9 lately. a headache started brewing at the back of his head for the past hour, but the knowledge that he'll be home in less than thirty minutes eases up his mind.
before he can start wondering what you, his wife of three years, made for dinner, the familiar and feminine laugh of his co-worker echoes through the empty office. he’s giving her a funny look before joining in her chuckles with the last bit of energy he's left.
"remind me to never, ever, trust you again with a project."
even with twelve hours of a stress-filled day clutching at her spirits, uesugi yuko still manages to look somewhat composed. at least more than him, and that’s something kuroo has always admired from her.
"aw c'mon," he’s quick to stand up and squeeze her shoulder, earning him a scoff as soon as he smiles smugly at the woman, "we work better under pressure."
"i'm beat, tetsuro."
yuko curses under her breath while rising from her seat, letting out a whine after being in the same position, hunched over her own laptop, for over 4 hours straight. kuroo's eyes wander almost automatically down her legs as she stretches before him, amber eyes following the tight fit of her pencil skirt around her hips and thighs. he’s not really thinking, just… watching the fabric hug the suppleness of her behind. he vaguely remembers yuko complaining about having lost her favorite “work skirt” two weeks ago.
“you said you lost it," he points at her legs, and she follows his line of sight, her lips stretching into a smirk.
"left it at sukuna’s place."
and there it is, the daily reminder that yuko is a beautiful and single woman that lives her life however she wants. kuroo vaguely remembers when he used to be like that before settling down with you, feeling as if that was a lifetime ago, even though yuko is barely a year younger than him.
he’s too busy in his thoughts, unconsciously frowning, that he doesn’t notice her putting her laptop in her designer bag before sliding it up her arm, offering him a wave as she struts to the elevator.
"bye tetsu!"
—
later that night, as he’s deep inside you and your breathless moans fall against his neck, he briefly wonders if yuko is doing the same thing in sukuna’s bed.
—
the screen in front of him displays an array of numbers that his mind refuses to understand so early in the morning. ten minutes in, and kuroo already wants to remove his eyeballs from their sockets, when it usually takes until noon for the sentiment to brew.
a large cup of hot coffee and a rather cute, baby blue bag with something that smells like a salmon bagel, are placed on his desk. he looks up, mouth slightly agape in surprise and confusion at a fresh-looking yuko who seems to glow under the sunlight with her navy blue suit and long hair—always down in soft waves.
"can't have you lacking," she says before he can ask what’s the meaning of the sudden act of kindness. not that she’s ever been mean to him, but yuko is known for her cold and sarcastic persona. "suguru wants us in his office in an hour."
and since kuroo is well versed in the art of yuko's disinterest and roll of her eyes, the faint smile in her lips throws him off guard, doubting for a second if it was even real, but he trusts his observant eyes wouldn't fail him like that.
and it feels as if he just scored a goal.
"don't be late," she’s walking away right after, not giving him even a second to thank her for the coffee.
exactly one hour and two minutes later, he walks by her desk, not without placing a can of diet soda next to her keyboard and making her look up at him from her seat. an understanding nod is shared between the pair as they walk together to the meeting room.
—
"text me as soon as you land, okay?"
your voice is drowned out under the sounds of honking cars, and planes flying on top of your heads, the chaos of the airport not helping with the jitters you’re experiencing of sending your husband to another three-day-long business trip. granted, it’s not the first time he has to travel for work, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it.
with almost tearful eyes, you watch as he unloads the trunk of the car with his backpack thrown over his shoulder and his hand gripping the handle of his carry-on, leaning down to kiss you once he makes sure it's properly closed.
"i love you."
kuroo smiles against your lips at your sudden profession of love before covering your face in kisses, your soft giggles making his heart grow.
"and i love you," he whispers, and that’s all it takes to ease up your heart, the stars in his eyes gleaming as he stares down at you before kissing your lips and your cheek one last time. "see you in three days, pretty girl."
a small smile plays on his lips as he walks inside the airport, right after making sure he watched you drove away to the safety of your shared home. he’s already checked-in through the airline’s app, so he heads straight to his gate after going through customs, deciding he might need at least a cup of coffee to get through the flight.
the queue is long, as he expected, but he’s got time, briefly checking his watch and adjusting his backpack on his shoulder as he glances around the menu until he’s spotting the familiar figure of yuko. the grin on his lips appears suddenly as he strides towards her, the nasty glares from the people waiting in line flying over him as he moves to stand beside her.
"always the early bird," with a quick glance, she realizes it’s him and not some random weirdo getting into her personal space, so she goes back to facing the cashier, handing out her card as she receives a large latte in return. kuroo makes sure to point that out. "hey! where's mine?"
"buy one yourself."
yuko pushes him softly aside, struggling between making sure her latte doesn’t spill onto her purse hanging around her forearm and getting the tiny wheels of her carry-on to cooperate. he finds his fingers itching to carry it for her, a frown etching onto his lips and soon, he’s snatching the small luggage from her hands, her eyes widening slightly in surprise.
“w-what are you–”
"c’mon,” he strides ahead of her while making sure she’s not too far behind him, offering a smug grin at her that he knows very well will make her huff and scoff. “you're my work-wife: you help me stay sane by buying me coffee, and i help you look good.”
“i am not your work-wife, what the–”
“ah, see? that’s where you’re wrong,” he tuts at her, a disapproving look in his eyes as she stares at him in bewilderment. “c’mon, we’re a great team! our projects are the best, and we’ve never messed up with a client.”
her mouth opens and closes, words failing her as she tries to make it clear that she is not his work-wife. yes, she agrees that he’s good at his job, or whatever, but she’d rather die than tell him that.
“and i know i’m your favorite at the office,” he shrugs his shoulders innocently, a knowing grin on his lips that’s quickly making her blood boil, “can’t blame you, the rest are a bunch of incompetent idiots.”
yuko is ready to tell him off, to make it clear that there’s no way he’s her favorite and that he too is an idiot—just a little less of an idiot since he does have common sense. but he beats her to it, starting to walk towards their gate with their carry-ons.
“better hurry, or we’ll miss our flight!”
—
meetings with clients always went the same way: paying for a fancy, expensive meal where they barely ate anything as they tried to pry into their interests until they found something in common with them, using said interest as bait to make the client think they’re just like them, meet up again but this time in a more private and business-like setting where they can finally pitch in their ideas and make the client take the bait, and finally, celebrate with drinks before sending them off to the airport.
yeah, that’s how usually it’s supposed to work. but the CEO representative of this fast-growing corporate was quite the tough cookie to crack.
“did you notice he didn’t even bother to look through the documents!? jesus, he could’ve at least skimmed through ‘em. that fucker.”
yuko is on her second beer already, five minutes in, and she hasn't stopped once to let out her frustrations after meeting with their client. with her manicured hand, she catches the attention of the bartender and orders a couple of tequila shots for herself before turning to look at him.
“another whiskey?”
but she immediately turns back to the bar and orders it for him along with a third shot of tequila. amusement dances across kuroo’s lips, the tension in his shoulders slowly fading as he realizes hell is over, and he gets to see yuko lose her marbles.
“i didn’t know we were gonna be getting drunk.”
“we aren’t,” she’s quick to deny, eyes lighting up as the row of shots is presented before her, “we just… deserve this after dealing with that asshole.”
“i’ll drink to that,” he sighs and takes one of the tequila shots, welcoming the heat from the liquor heating down his throat.
the hotel bar is rather empty, a few patrons sitting on the booths or by the garden outside while they remain by the bar. the high stools are all empty too, just the two of them keeping the bartender busy with their orders and keeping him company with their complaints.
yuko faces him, her knees knocking against his accidentally, and she giggles, her fingers running through her hair, “i’ll definitely ask for a week off after this.”
kuroo perks up at that and pouts dramatically, the tips of his ears flushed and his lips glistening with his last sip of his drink, “nooooo, don’t abandon me! that’s mean.”
she smirks before bursting in a fit of giggles, and he thinks he has never seen her smile this much, or be so laid back. her whole face looks different when she smiles, as if she became five years younger and, overall, happier.
“you’ll manage.”
kuroo pouts even more and knocks his own knees against hers, making her gasp and chuckle at the childish reaction. but she guesses it’s nice to finally bond like this with him, since he’s certainly the only sane person in the office.
after a quick trip to the ladies room, yuko comes back with sleep-laced eyes, resting her head on her hands to try and get it to stop spinning.
“you good?”
her heart drops faintly to her stomach, his voice against her ear in the softest whisper. without looking at him, she shakes her head with a whine, “m’sleepy, tetsuro.”
and honestly, so is he. he’d kill to lie on his hotel bed and sleep until the afternoon. he’s about to agree with her when she finally looks up at him with big eyes, her cheeks flushed and her hair messed up. he doesn’t think she has ever looked this cute, plus the way she’s being vulnerable with him clouds the rational side of his brain.
kuroo realizes he wants to kiss her. badly.
“let’s get you into bed, then.”
being none the wiser, yuko trails before him with his help. her touch is enough to make him tense up, recalling the brief snippet of her light blue bra peeking from her blouse during their uber drive back to the hotel, and how he tried to fool himself by imagining you with it, making a mental note that he should buy one for you. yuko’s head resting on his arm shouldn’t be making his pants this tight, but it’s both cute and hot that she’s way smaller than him that she can’t even rest her head on his shoulder—not even with her heels on.
“we’re here,” his voice has grown considerably hoarse, amber eyes observing her search for her key until she shows it off to him proudly. “text me if you need anything. good night, yuko.”
fuck. he thinks to himself, he can’t wait to get off of his slacks and jerk off. he wonders if he still has one of those videos with you sucking him off. or maybe he should try his luck and call you, hopefully you’re still awake and–
“tetsu?”
he blinks, yuko standing under the threshold with her door wide open and gnawing at her bottom lip. all he can do is make a sound to acknowledge her,
“thank you,” she pauses, exhaling softly and letting the words of appreciation sink in. “m’glad we got paired up for this trip.”
fuck it.
it only takes one long stride for him to be face to face with her and grip her waist, smashing his lips onto hers as her own hands grip his shoulders. the kiss is impulsive and messy, barely an outlet to show how much he wants her.
it doesn’t take long for them to part from the kiss, and he sees her wide-eyed, her swollen lips looking even more inviting, if possible.
“shit. y-yuko… i–” he swallows down, hard, the ring on his finger starting to burn against his skin. “fuck, fuck, m’so drunk.”
“me too.”
and he doesn’t even bother to pretend thinking it through, taking it as a green light to push her inside her room and slam the door behind him, carrying her over to the bed.
“hmm fuck, i’m so hard,” he nibbles across her neck and collarbone, breathy moans escaping her lips and only making him press himself harder against her frame.
his hands travel along her sides, cupping her breasts in his hands and gently squeezing the soft flesh while he goes back to kissing her.
“take it off,” she whispers against his lips before moving to sit on his lap, her legs around his hips and his erection pressing right onto her clothed center.
it doesn’t take long for his thumbs to pinch at her hard nipples, the feeling rushing to her pussy and making her wetness grow, while her own hands fumble with his belt.
kuroo can’t remember the last time he felt so needy, so desperate to sink his cock into a woman that wasn’t you. right, his wife. his mind wanders fleetingly to you, but before the guilt starts to brew, he groans as yuko’s hand wraps around his length timidly.
taking the lead once again, he moves to the side so that he's on top of her and her body is in the right position for him to enter her. his voice is lustful with a mix of passion and need, watching her legs spread out to accommodate him, her skirt bunched up at her waist and her breasts spilling from her bra.
“don’t have a condom with me. can i pull out?”
his question is answered by her soft legs wrapping around his hips and pushing him forward, his leaking tip rubbing against her folds before he’s guiding it inside her.
blame it on the alcohol or having grown used to his wife’s body, but kuroo swears he’s never had a pussy feel this good around him, feeling like velvet stroking his sensitive length.
“ohh fuck, yuko…” he gasps as he falls forward, his frame on top of hers as his lips search for her breasts, “fuuuuck, you’re so… tight— shit.”
“tetsu–” her fingernails claw at his back as his tongue laps around her nipple, his thrusts slow yet deep, his pelvic bone meeting her clit with each movement, “oh god, feels so good.”
his eyes open to stare at hers hungrily, his lips wrapped around her breast as he slowly increases his pace, the squelching sounds of her pussy taking him growing louder. he lets go of her nipple and raises up, holding onto her waist as he pounds into her and one of his hands grips her chest.
“these are the prettiest tits,” his thumb strokes over her nipple, and she whines in return, his rhythm speeding up slightly, “and the prettiest pussy.”
her inner walls tighten and he’s letting out more groans and filthy words at her, his gaze moving between her folds taking his length and her breasts bouncing with each thrust of his hips. his other hand moves down to her clit to rub slow circles, grinning like a mad man as her pussy creams even more around him. he smiles and presses his lips to hers and moves his hips faster, letting her feel every inch of his length as his breath becomes heavy with her every moan.
with each stroke on her clit and the fullness of his cock inside her, yuko is quickly reaching her orgasm, not being able to hold back from moaning and whimpering against his lips.
“oh tetsu! m’gonna—” she squeals as he starts moving faster, his tip reaching deep inside her as his lips attach onto her neck, “gonna come!”
his ragged breaths fall against her ear, and it only takes a few more strokes on her clit to have her coming around him, her pussy quivering and fluttering around his girth as her squeals turn into screams. the sudden tightness makes him lose his mind as well, barely pulling out in time to jerk his cock against her pussy, the head resting between her folds as he comes too, smearing the white liquid around her entrance and teasing her by sliding in the tip
that night, kuroo goes to bed with yuko’s pussy around him, and his wedding band around his finger.
CW. cheating, nsfw, angst, Dazai, They have sex with a female random person, the boys don't care and toxic
A/N :: they cheat on you and I write smut for the cheating :P — written by a minor
[MASTERLIST] — (ノ^_^)ノ works in link!
DAZAI— walking up to your bedroom, you were tired from hanging out your friends and you missed the sounds of moaning and the bed squeaky. You just wanted to go to sleep with your lovely boyfriend, in his arms but once you open the door. Your met with a sight of Dazai pounding into someone, the sounds of slapping and wet sounds are heard from you. His dick pumping in and out, you let out a gasp. Your eyes widen in shock and fear, Dazai notices you but he doesn't stop. The girl below him scratches his back, they continue their fun even when they notice your there. Dazai smiles and goes faster, Dazai was finding you boring and he wanted something new to fuck. He was going to cum, you won't stop him from cumming. The girl's legs twitches as she screams loudly, your frozen to your spot. Your legs tremble in fear, you can't believe the sight infront of you. Tears streaming down your face, you finally move. Your footsteps going less heard as he continues, she was tight around him.
CHUUYA— You were going to visit him from his work, the bodyguards give you a stare. It was weird, they had look that said sorry or said poor you. You hear soft grunting and moaning, you raise an eyebrow. Would Chuuya masturbate at his work? You thought and open the door, you see a girl bouncing on his dick. Her tits jiggling with her movements, your eyes widen. Chuuya helps her out, his hand lifting her up and down. He was having sex with a worker and he was in a relationship with you!! His head is threw back as you can see a white ring around his cock, some of his seeds drooling out of the girl riding him. He lets out grunts, feeling the warmth from her. Clenching him and milking his cock. He feels so good, can you really blame him?
