#zeus's asks

You’d been talking about a project that actually mattered to you- a personal one which was years in the making and something vulnerable you had never showed anyone. 

Sukuna, lounging on the massive couch like he owned the entire building (which, technically, he could if he felt like it), had waved a dismissive hand, eyes half-lidded in that signature arrogant smirk.

“It’s mediocre at best,” He’d said voice casual, as if the words weren’t cruel. “Why waste your time on human sentimentality? You’re better than that pathetic little dream.”

The words landed like a slap. Not because they were the harshest thing he’d ever said- they weren't -but because he’d said them so flippantly about something you’d let him see. 

You hadn’t yelled. You hadn’t even argued back. You’d simply looked at him, expression blank, and decided in that moment that the silence would hurt more. No words, no acknowledgement and maybe he'd have a better fucking attitude. 

Sukuna had laughed loudly at first, thinking it was a game. “Oh? The silent treatment? How quaint. You’ll crack in an hour, sweetheart. You always do.”

He was wrong.

Six hours later, the apartment felt like a pressure cooker.

Sukuna paced the open living room like a caged tiger. His usual overwhelming confidence had cracked, the black markings across his skin pulsing faintly with irritation. He’d tried everything.. everything.

First came the noise.

He blasted music some aggressive, bass-heavy song that rattled the glassware in the kitchen, while shooting you pointed glances from across the room. You had just sat at the dining table with your laptop, eyes on the screen with not even a flicker of recognition. He turned it up louder and yet he still got nothing.

Then the 'accidental' provocations.

He strolled past you shirtless, sweatpants slung dangerously low on his hips, the sharp cut of his V-line and the dark tattoos drawing the eye whether you wanted them to or not. He stretched slowly, muscles flexing as he reached for a glass in the cabinet. You didn’t even look up. 

By late evening, the arrogance had started to fade.

Sukuna’s pacing had grown more agitated. He ran a hand through his pink hair, tugging at it in frustration. His cheeks carried a faint flush he couldn’t hide, and when he tried to speak, his voice cracked just slightly on your name only for him to clamp his mouth shut when you refused to even glance his way. 

The silence was suffocating. It weighed down on him heavier than any binding vow, more maddening than any opponent he’d ever faced.

He hated it.

He absolutely hated how your absence of attention felt like he was facing  withdrawals. Like something vital had been ripped away. Sukuna, the King of Curses, reduced to this- restless, needy all because his favorite person wouldn’t even spare him a single word.

He stopped pacing near the couch where you’d eventually moved to read. For a long moment he just stood there, chest rising and falling a little too quickly eyes locked on you with an intensity that bordered on feral.

You didn’t look up.

That was the final straw.

Sukuna dropped to his knees with zero grace. He shoved his way between your legs, broad shoulders forcing your thighs apart as he pressed his face desperately against your thigh. His breath was hot through the fabric of your clothes, mouth already open, lips mouthing and sucking at the material like he could taste you through it.

“C’mon…” His voice was rough, edged with a whine he would never admit to. “Say something. Yell at me. Call me an asshole. Anything.”

He nuzzled higher, nose dragging along your inner thigh, pink hair tickling your skin as he breathed you in. His hands so capable of destruction gripped your hips like you were an anchor keeping him stable. 

“Please…”

The word sounded foreign on his tongue, but he said it again. And again. His tongue pressed flat against the fabric, tracing the shape of you with messy, needy strokes. His pupils were blown wide, crimson eyes glassy and desperate.

He had never been ignored by you before, and it was breaking him beautifully.

When you still didn’t speak, didn’t even card a hand through his hair, something inside him snapped. 

With a low, broken whimper, Sukuna tugged at your waistband, yanking your pants and underwear down just enough to free you. He surged forward like a man starved, lips wrapping around the head of your cock in one sloppy motion.

The first suck was greedy and desperate. His tongue swirled messily around the tip, pressing into the slit as if he could draw your attention out through pure sensation alone. He moaned loudly at the taste, the sound vibrating through you as drool immediately spilled from the corners of his mouth.

“Fuck… look at me,” He mumbled around you, the words garbled and wet. Drool already slipped from the corner of his mouth, trailing down his chin as he took you deeper. He hollowed his cheeks and sank down further, taking more of you into the tight heat of his mouth. 

Sukuna had sucked you off countless times before, usually with cocky control and teasing flicks of his tongue. This was nothing like that. This was frantic messy in a way the King of Curses never allowed himself to be. . He bobbed his head with messy enthusiasm, gagging softly when he pushed too deep but refusing to pull back.

Instead he leaned into it, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes from the effort. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, nails digging into your skin as he held you in place. One of his hands eventually wandered, palming desperately at the massive bulge straining against his low-slung sweatpants. He ground into his own palm with shameless need, hips jerking erratically while he continued worshipping you.

You stayed silent, but you finally spread your legs wider, giving him more room.

The small mercy tore a loud, muffled moan from his chest. The vibration shot straight through your cock, making your thighs tense. Sukuna’s eyes fluttered, lashes wet with unshed tears as he doubled his efforts. He pulled off for a gasping breath, strings of thick spit connecting his swollen, reddened lips to your glistening cock.

“You’re my only fucking person,” He rasped, voice hoarse and cracking. “Don’t- don’t do this to me. I was an arrogant prick. I’m sorry, alright? Just… say something. Please.”

His voice broke on the last word. Before you could respond he dove back down. This time he took you all the way to the hilt in one slick, determined slide. His nose pressed flush against your pelvis, throat bulging visibly around your length as he held himself there. His throat fluttered and constricted wildly, massaging every inch while he fought the urge to gag. Tears slipped freely down his flushed cheeks now, but his eyes never left yours.

He stayed like that until his lungs burned, then pulled back just enough to suck in a desperate breath before plunging down again. Over and over, he fucked his own throat on your cock with sloppy, uncoordinated movements. 

The sounds were filthy- wet glucking, choking, and constant needy whimpers vibrating around you. Drool poured from his mouth in thick strands, soaking his chin, neck, and the front of his chest. His pink hair was a mess, strands sticking to his sweaty forehead.

Sukuna’s hand moved faster inside his sweatpants, jerking himself in time with the bobbing of his head. His hips rolled helplessly, fucking into his fist while he worshipped you. Every time you let out even the smallest groan or shift of your hips, he grew more frantic, sucking harder doing everything he could to earn any reaction.

His thighs trembled. The wet spot on his sweatpants had grown massive, precum leaking steadily as he edged himself closer and closer just from the humiliation and desperation of being ignored.

You finally reached down. Your fingers threaded into his messy pink hair and gripped tight. Sukuna’s entire body shuddered violently at the contact. A broken, pathetic whine escaped around your cock.

“Good boy,” You said, the first words you’d spoken in six hours. Your voice was low and rough. The praise hit him hard Sukuna’s eyes rolled back, a muffled, guttural cry vibrating around your length as his hips stuttered hard. 

He came violently in his pants without warning, thick ropes soaking through the fabric and dripping down his thighs. Even as he shook through his orgasm, he kept sucking you desperately as if he couldn’t bear to stop.

You didn’t let go of his hair. You held him in place and rocked gently into his mouth, fucking his face with slow, deliberate thrusts while he trembled and whimpered through the aftershocks.

“The prettiest, neediest curse I’ve ever seen,” You murmured, stroking his tear-streaked cheek with your thumb. “Look at you. Falling apart just because I wouldn’t talk to you. Sucking me like your life depends on it. Making such a mess of yourself.”

Sukuna moaned pathetically at the words, another weak spurt leaking into his already ruined sweatpants. The praise seemed to unravel him further. He pulled back just enough to swirl his tongue messily around the head, licking and sucking with sloppy devotion while looking up at you with glassy, adoring eyes. 

You kept praising him in that low, calm voice telling him how good he looked on his knees, how only you could reduce the King of Curses to this desperate, drooling mess, how much you loved seeing him like this. Every word made him whimper and suck harder.

Finally, the pressure became too much. You gripped his hair tighter and spilled down his throat with a low groan. Sukuna’s eyes fluttered shut in pure bliss as he swallowed every drop, milking you until you were completely spent.

Only when you loosened your grip did he pull off with a wet gasp, coughing softly as strings of spit and cum connected his lips to your cock. His face was a wreck: flushed dark red, eyes red-rimmed and glassy, chin shiny with mess. 

The moment it was over, Sukuna surged upward. Strong arms wrapped around your waist as he climbed into your lap, clinging like an octopus who refused to be pried off. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, body still trembling as he pressed flush against you.

“Don’t… ever do that again,” He mumbled, voice hoarse and raw. He pressed lazy, possessive kisses along your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. “I hate it. Hate not hearing you. Hate not having your eyes on me.”

You ran your fingers through his damp pink hair and he practically purred, nuzzling closer. 

“Next time I say something stupid,” He muttered, kissing you again, slower and deeper this time, “just punch me instead. Or make me ride you. Anything but silence.” A small, cocky smirk tugged at his lips even now. “Because if you ignore me again… I’ll just have to get on my knees faster. Make an even bigger fool of myself until you forgive me.”

So here he was, kicking the warehouse door shut behind him with the heel of his boot. The place was surprisingly clean for a shithole in the industrial district.

You were already sitting there like you owned the world, leaned back in a heavy leather chair with one ankle resting on the opposite knee. An expensive suit, calm eyes. The kind of quiet confidence that made lesser men nervous.

Toji exhaled a plume of smoke and smirked, voice low and rough.

“So you’re the big bad Collector, huh?” He cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders as he stepped closer. “Heard you got a deal for me. One night and I walk away square. Let’s hear it. Who do I gotta kill?”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you let the silence stretch just long enough for his cocky grin to twitch. Then you slowly spread your legs, the fabric of your slacks pulling tight over your thighs, and rested one hand lazily on your belt.

Toji’s eyes flicked down for half a second before snapping back up. You finally spoke, voice low, steady, and dripping with amusement. “No killing tonight, Fushiguro. The only thing you’re working off… is this debt.”

You patted your thigh once. “On your knees first. Then I’ll bend you over that desk and fuck the rest of what you owe out of you.”

The warehouse went even quieter, which didn’t seem possible considering you both were the only people in the warehouse. Toji stared at you for a long beat, cigarette nearly falling from his lips. Then he barked out a short, disbelieving laugh, running a hand through his messy black hair.

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.” His smirk stayed in place, but it faltered slightly. “This the kind of ‘collection’ you do? Thought I was dealin’ with a professional, not some pervert with deep pockets.”

He took another drag, trying to play it cool, but his stance had shifted. Legs a little wider and his jaw clenched as if he was ready for a fight.

You just watched him, completely unfazed. Toji clicked his tongue, green eyes narrowing.

“I’ve taken worse than whatever you think you can dish out, big guy. Way worse.” He dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his boot, stepping closer with that signature lazy swagger. “If suckin’ dick and bendin’ over is all it takes to clear my tab… fine. But don’t think for a second I’m gonna make this easy for you.”

He stopped just a few feet away, towering even while sneering down at you in the chair. “So? You gonna sit there all night, or are we doin’ this?”

You smiled slowly, fingers already working open your belt with a soft click. “Get on your knees, Toji. Let’s see how well that mouth works when it’s not running.”

Toji muttered something under his breath but dropped to his knees anyway, the concrete biting into his joints. His large, calloused hands made quick work of your slacks, yanking them down along with your boxers until your cock sprang free- thick, heavy, and already hardening under his gaze.

“Shit… not bad,” He grunted, wrapping one hand around the base and giving it a firm stroke.

He leaned in without waiting, lips parting as he took the head into his mouth and hot, wet heat enveloped you immediately. Toji sucked hard, tongue pressing flat against the underside while his hand worked the shaft he couldn’t fit yet. He was rough and eager, clearly trying to make you lose control fast so this would be over quicker.

You let him have his moment, threading your fingers through his messy black hair, but you didn’t stay passive for long. You pushed his head down further, forcing more of your length into his throat.

Toji gagged once, eyes watering, but powered through with a glare aimed up at you. Drool spilled from the corners of his mouth as he bobbed his head, taking you deeper with each pass. The wet, filthy sounds of him sucking you filled the warehouse, mixed with his occasional choked grunts.

“Fuck, that’s better,” You praised lowly, hips rocking forward. “Look at you- you look so pretty like this.”

Toji pulled off with a wet pop, gasping for air, lips shiny and swollen. “Shut the fuck up… I’m doin’ this for the money, not because I like it.”

You chuckled and tapped your cock against his cheek. “Keep telling yourself that.”

After a few more minutes of his sloppy, aggressive blowjob, you hauled him up by the hair and spun him around, shoving him chest-first over the wide metal desk.

“Yeah? This the part where you wreck me?” He taunted, glancing back over his shoulder with a smirk. “Go ahead. I’ve taken worse than some rich asshole’s dick.”

You reached into the desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube, clicking it open with a deliberate snap. Toji’s eyes tracked the motion, his smirk faltering for just a second.

“Lube? How considerate,” he sneered, though his voice had lost some of its bite. “Didn’t think you’d bother.”

“I want you to feel every inch,” You replied calmly, pouring a generous amount over your cock and then drizzling more between his cheeks. You pressed two slick fingers against his hole, circling the tight ring before pushing in slowly. Toji hissed through his teeth, muscles tensing, but he didn’t pull away.

“Relax,” You ordered, scissoring your fingers and curling them until you found his prostate.

“F-fuck-!” Toji’s hips jerked, a low groan escaping him as you rubbed that spot relentlessly. You added a third finger, stretching him open thoroughly while your other hand reached around to stroke his cock, which was now fully hard and leaking.

By the time you pulled your fingers out, Toji was breathing heavier, forehead pressed to the desk, ass subtly pushing back against nothing. You lined up your cock, pressing the blunt head against his now-slick hole.

“Ready to start working off that debt?”

Toji clicked his tongue. “Just fuck me already, you bastard. Let’s see if you can actually make me-!”

You pushed in with one long, steady thrust, burying yourself balls-deep in one go. The lube made the slide smoother, but he was still incredibly tight, his heat gripping you like a vice. Toji’s back arched sharply, a raw, broken moan tearing from his throat as his fingers scraped against the metal.

“Shit… shit, you’re fucking huge…” He gasped, voice strained. “Slow- fuck, give me a second-”

You pulled back almost all the way and slammed back in, setting a deep, punishing rhythm that made the heavy desk creak under the force. Each thrust drove him forward, his cock trapped between his stomach and the edge of the desk, leaking steadily.

“Still think you’ve taken worse?” you growled, gripping his narrow waist with both hands and pounding into him harder. Toji tried to laugh, but it came out as a wrecked moan. “Y-yeah… I’ve had bigger… fuck!”

You angled your hips and nailed his prostate dead-on, causing his legs to buckle.

“Liar,” You said, reaching around to stroke his cock in time with your thrusts. “You’re clenching around me like you’ve never been properly fucked before. Listen to those pretty sounds you’re making.”

Toji’s moans grew louder, less controlled. His usual lazy drawl was gone, replaced by broken grunts and curses every time you bottomed out. Sweat slicked his scarred back. His ass rippled with every impact, red from the force of your hips slapping against him.

You fucked him harder, faster, the wet squelch of lube and skin filling the air along with the slap of flesh. “Gonna cum just from my cock?” You taunted, twisting your hand around his leaking tip. “Go on.”

Toji came first with a strangled shout, body seizing up as thick ropes of cum painted the floor and your fist. His hole clenched rhythmically around you, milking your cock so tightly it pushed you over the edge.

You buried yourself deep and filled him up, pulse after hot pulse, until cum started leaking out around your shaft despite the tight fit.

For a long moment the only sound was heavy breathing. You stayed inside him, grinding slowly as he came down from his high, letting him feel every twitch.

“…Debt cleared?” Toji finally rasped, voice hoarse and wrecked.

“Cleared,” You confirmed, pulling out slowly. A thick trickle of your cum immediately dripped down his trembling thighs.

Toji pushed himself up on shaky arms, legs visibly unsteady. He yanked his pants back up with clumsy fingers, wincing as the fabric brushed against his abused hole.

When he tried to walk toward the exit, his stride was anything but his usual confident swagger- instead an obvious limp. Each step made more of your load leak out of him.

At the door he paused, one hand on the frame, and glanced back at you. His face was flushed dark, hair sticking to his forehead, green eyes glassy and half-lidded. For once, the smirk he tried to give you looked almost shy.

“…If you ever need to ‘collect’ again…” He muttered, voice rough, “you know where to find me, asshole.”

His thighs shake. Hard.

“Mmh- say it again,” he begs, voice cracking. You drag your mouth up the curve, kissing along the tight skin, suckling gently until he whimpers.

His belly is heavy, round, and he loves when you handle it like it’s precious. “You’re glowing, Satoru,” You whispeedr. “My pretty pregnant boy.”

He gasps at that and you weren't surprised Gojo loved the praise falling out of your mouth. “God keep talking-”

The pregnancy’s made him leak  just a little- and he’s mortified but you absolutely love it. You pushed him gently onto his back. His nipples already pebbled and tender. When you flick your tongue over one, he arches up off the mattress like he’s been shocked.

“Ah-! Don't- I can’t-”That motion had him on the edge of orgasm his sensitivity almost increasing by tenfold by his pregnancy.

He’s trembling, toes curling, breath catching. “You’re so sensitive,” You murmured against his chest.

“Because of you,” He moaned.

And when he starts leaking, beads of milk, he gasps sharply, embarrassed and turned on enough to cry.

As you catch it with your tongue Gojo loses his mind. `His hands fly to your hair, tugging hard, hips bucking helplessly. “D-don’t- it’s embarrassing-”

But he’s already grinding into nothing, cheeks flushed scarlet, eyes glassy. “I love that you're making milk for our baby, don't you?” You whispered, sucking gently until he moans again. He nods fast, tears forming.

“Touch me more. Please.”

You hold his chest, thumb brushing leaking skin, and he sobs with pleasure. “You’re perfect, Satoru,” you murmur.

Gojo had been restless all evening, pacing, belly heavy and tight beneath one of your shirts he’d stolen. The sensitivity was bad, nipples aching, thighs shaking when you so much as looked at him, and he’d been needy for hours without admitting it.

Finally he crawled onto your lap, belly warm against your chest, breath already uneven.

“I need you,” He whispered.

He kissed you, slow at first  but the moment your hands slid under his shirt to hold the curve of his bump, his whole body jerked helplessly. “Wait-” he gasped, but he didn’t pull away. He wouldn't dare pull away.

You kissed down his throat, hands warm on his belly, and he whimpered - actually whimpered-  thighs tightening around your hips.

“S-slower…”

But he was already shaking, eyes glassy, breath catching like he was right at the edge. You pressed your forehead to his, voice low against his lips. “Satoru. Breathe.”

He did but barely weak and shuddery, trying so hard to steady himself as you guided him down, inch by inch. His fingers clutched your shoulders, knuckles white, the soft weight of his belly pressing to your stomach as he sank onto you.

A broken sound escaped him.

His thighs trembled around you, the stretch making him gasp, head falling to your shoulder.

“D-don’t move yet,” he whispered, though his hips were already shifting, trying to take more of you as greedy as ever.

You held him steady, one hand splayed over his swollen belly, the other at his back, keeping him close as he exhaled shakily against your neck.

He shivered, clinging to you, breath warm and desperate against your skin.

“Satoru,” you whispered, kissing his temple, “I’ve got you.”

“I-I’m trying-” He let out a soft cry, burying his face in your neck as his body trembled. “I can’t- god-you're too much-”

His belly pressed tight to your stomach with every tiny movement he made, every shift amplifying the sensation until he was gasping into your skin, clutching you like he was drowning.

“Please- just touch me-”

You cupped the underside of his belly gently, grounding him and that broke him. He cried out, body arching, thighs trembling around you. “N-no-wait- ‘m too sensitive”

His voice dissolved into breathy, desperate moans, tears clinging to his lashes.

You slowed immediately, hands firm and steady on his belly and waist. “Hey. Look at me.”

He tried but with eyes unfocused, lips parted, chest heaving - it felt impossible.

“You’re okay,” You murmured. “I’ve got you. Breathe with me.”

His hands fisted in your shirt as he collapsed into your chest, trembling from head to toe, overwhelmed by sensation, by hormones, by how deeply you touched him.

“You’re… too good to me,” he whispered hoarsely.

You kissed the wet corner of his eye. “Let me take care of you.”

Gojo nodded, breath ragged, belly pressed tight and warm to you as he melted into your arms.

And for once, he didn’t try to be in charge.

For once, he let himself fall apart on you he truly, absolutely… couldn’t handle you.

2. the time his body betrayed him and he still begged for more 

Gojo lies back on the bed, shirt rolled up under his chest, huge swollen belly exposed to your hands and mouth. He’s flushed pink already, breathing shallow, fingers gripping the sheets. 

You kiss the underside of his belly and he breathily whines. “Don’t tease… you know how sensitive I get there-”

Every kiss makes him shiver. Every touch makes his hips jerk. 

You held his bump with both hands, big and warm and full, and he cradles your wrists like he needs the grounding. “Look at you,” You murmured. “So beautiful carrying my baby.” 

“Mmh- say it again,” he begs, voice cracking. You drag your mouth up the curve, kissing along the tight skin, suckling gently until he whimpers. His belly is heavy, round, and he loves when you handle it like it’s precious. 

“You’re glowing, Satoru,” you whisper. “My pretty pregnant boy.” He gasps at that and you weren't surprised Gojo loved the praise falling out of your mouth. 

“God keep talking-” The pregnancy’s made him leak just a little- and he’s mortified but you absolutely love it. 

You pushed him gently onto his back. His nipples already pebbled and tender. When you flick your tongue over one, he arches up off the mattress like he’s been shocked. “Ah-! Don't- I can’t-”That motion had him on the edge of orgasm his sensitivity almost increasing by tenfold by his pregnancy. 

He’s trembling, toes curling, breath catching. “You’re so sensitive,” You murmured against his chest. “Because of you,” he moans. And when he starts leaking, beads of milk, he gasps sharply, embarrassed and turned on enough to cry. 

As you catch it with your tongue Gojo loses his mind. His hands fly to your hair, tugging hard, hips bucking helplessly. “D-don’t- it’s embarrassing-” 

But he’s already grinding into nothing, cheeks flushed scarlet, eyes glassy. “I love that you're making milk for our baby, don't you?” You whispered, sucking gently until he moans again. He nods fast, tears forming. 

“Touch me more. Please.” You held his chest, thumb brushing leaking skin, and he sobs with pleasure. 

“You’re perfect, Satoru,” You murmured. 

3. the one time he climbed into your lap and reminded you who was really in charge 

Pregnant Gojo didn’t even bother pretending tonight.

His shirt was pushed up, soft belly out, the curve of it full and heavy, his breathing fast. “Sit,” he ordered, voice low and honey-thick.

You barely touched the edge of the mattress before he was crawling into your lap, thighs straddling you, belly pressing into your abdomen, his hands on your jaw forcing you to look up at him.

“You keep acting like you’re the one in charge,” he murmured, grinding down once, yet it was enough to punch a groan out of you. His lashes fluttered. “But look at me. Look at what I’m carrying.”

Your hands instinctively went to his hips, and Gojo slapped them away, pinning your wrists to the bed.

“You don’t touch me unless I tell you to,” he breathed, leaning in close enough that his breath ghosted over your ear. “I’m the one in charge tonight.”

He rocked down again, harder this time, belly dragging against your stomach. A soft moan slipped out of him, the kind that got higher when he tried to hold it back.

His swollen belly brushed you every time he moved — warm, weighty, demanding attention. He noticed the way your eyes kept dropping to the curve.

“Oh?” he smirked, voice sinful. “You like that I'm full of a permanent reminder of you?”

He grabbed your hand and pressed it to the underside of his bump, forcing you to feel how firm it was. “You like how I look when you’ve knocked me up?”

You swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Good.” His eyes glowed with satisfaction. 

Gojo shifted, guiding you underneath him completely, thighs spread wide as he hovered over you, belly hanging low, the sight utterly obscene.

“And you’re going to take me exactly how I say,” he whispered, kissing you hard, messy, desperate.

He sank his weight onto you and on your cock letting out a sound that landed somewhere between a moan and a gasp, his nails digging into your shoulders as his belly pressed flush to your torso.

“S-stay still,” he panted, already shaking. “Let me… let me use you.”

His forehead pressed to yours, breath hot, voice trembling.

“I’m going to ride you,” He moaned. “And you’re going to let me.”

The world narrowed to the heat of him, the weight of him, the way every exhale trembled against your lips as he began to move.

(bonus-  the time he asked you to give him another baby while he was still carrying the first)

He’s leaning against the counter, sipping juice, belly huge and round, and suddenly he blurts:

“We should have another.”

You nearly choked. “Gojo- you’re literally-”

He smirks, sliding your hand under his shirt. “I know. I’m just saying… this feels really good. Being full of you. Being yours.”

He kisses you, slow and hungry. “You think you could get me pregnant twice?”

He’s so serious it’s insane.

“Make me.” Your free hand grabbed the front of his Nightwing suit and ripped downward in one violent motion. The fabric tore with a sharp sound, exposing his sweat-slicked chest. You shoved your hand inside, palming his pecs roughly, thumb brushing over a hardening nipple.

Nightwing’s breath hitched.

You smirked against his ear, grinding your already hard cock against his thigh. “Look at that… already getting worked up for the villain you claim to hate. Fucking pathetic.”

“Shut up,” He hissed, but his hips jerked forward despite himself.

You crashed your mouth against his in a kiss- teeth clashing, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. He bit you back just as viciously, and the taste of it only made you grind harder against his body.

You spun him around roughly, slamming his chest against the wall. Keeping his wrists pinned high with one hand, you yanked his suit down over his hips with the other, letting it bunch around his thighs. His perfect, firm ass was fully exposed now.

“Tell me to stop,” You taunted, spitting on your hand and stroking your thick cock once before pressing the blunt head right against his tight hole. “Go on. Be a good little hero.”

Nightwing only pushed back against you with a defiant click, but you didn’t thrust in right away.

Instead, you pressed two fingers against his entrance first, circling the tight ring of muscle teasingly. “What’s wrong? Scared you’ll like it too much?” You mocked, voice low and rough in his ear.

You pushed both fingers inside him without warning, deep and rough. Nightwing’s breath hitched sharply, his body tensing around the sudden intrusion. You scissored them immediately, stretching him open while your other hand kept his wrists pinned high against the wall. Your fingers curled deliberately, searching for that spot-

“Fuck-!” He gasped when you found it, fingers rubbing hard against his prostate.

You smirked against the back of his neck and added a third finger, pumping them in and out with filthy, wet sounds. You kept working that sensitive bundle of nerves relentlessly, until his cock was fully hard and leaking against the torn remains of his suit. His hips even started jerking back against your hand despite himself.

“Already dripping for me,” You growled as you fingered him faster, deeper. “Fucking pathetic… acting like you hate this when your hole is sucking my fingers in.”

“Shut the fuck up” Nightwing hissed, but his voice cracked into a moan when you crooked your fingers just right again.

You kept him like that for a long minute, stretching and teasing him open, making sure he was good and desperate. Only when his thighs started trembling and his breathing turned ragged did you finally pull your fingers out.

You replaced them with the thick head of your cock, rubbing it against his now-slick hole for a few torturous seconds before you thrust forward hard.

A broken moan tore from Nightwing’s throat as you buried yourself to the hilt in one stroke. The tight heat of him was still vice-like, but now slick enough for you to start pounding him.

“Fuckk you’re still so goddamn tight,” You hissed against the back of his neck before sinking your teeth into the sensitive skin. You sucked hard, leaving a dark, possessive bruise while you fucked him deeper, harder.

“Arrogant… prick” Nightwing gasped out.

You moved your palm across his exposed ass in a loud spank, the sound echoing through the warehouse. His hole as a response clenched impossibly tighter around your cock. You spanked him again, harder this time, then reached around to grab his leaking cock, stroking it roughly in time with your thrusts.

You pulled out abruptly, spun him around, and shoved him down onto the dirty concrete floor. Nightwing barely caught himself on his elbows before you were on him again. You hooked one of his legs over your shoulder, folding him in half, and drove back inside in a single, merciless thrust.

“Shit!” he cried out, eyes squeezing shut.

This new angle was even worse and somehow you were getting deeper inside of him. The filthy wet slap of skin on skin filling the empty space. You wrapped one hand around his throat, squeezing just enough to make his breath hitch and his eyes fly open.

“Look at me,” You growled, forcing his gaze to stay locked on yours. “Watch the villain who’s ruining you for anyone else.”

His blue eyes were glassy, burning with fury, shame, and overwhelming pleasure. You kept thrusting deep and hard, grinding against that perfect spot inside him on every stroke while your hand worked his cock faster.

Nightwing came first with a strangled shout, his hole spasming wildly around you as thick ropes of cum shot across his own abs and chest. You didn’t slow down for a second instead you fucked him straight through it, dragging out every aftershock until his moans turned into broken sobs and fresh tears of overstimulation welled up in his eyes.

“Too much- fuck.. I can’t please” He sobbed, voice hoarse and cracking.

You leaned down closer, pressing another dark mark into his collarbone. “Cry for me. I want to see how pretty you look when you break on my cock.”

The second orgasm hit him even harder. Nightwing’s back arched violently off the floor as loud, wrecked sobs tore from his throat. Hot tears streamed down his flushed cheeks while his nails clawed deep, bloody lines down your back. His cock gave weak, dry spurts between your bodies, hole fluttering and clenching uncontrollably as his whole body shook apart beneath you.

It was only then did you let yourself go.

You pulled out with a wet sound, stroked your cock furiously, and came with a low groan watching as thick ropes of cum painted his spent cock and cum-covered abs.

For a long minute, the only sounds were both of your ragged breathing and the distant noise of Gotham traffic outside. You sat back on your heels, chest heaving, staring down at the exhausted hero lying beneath you. Nightwing’s suit was shredded, his body covered in sweat, bite marks, and your cum. 

His chest still heaved with quiet, exhausted sobs as he slowly pushed himself up, avoiding your eyes.“This doesn’t change anything.”

Gojo was an absolute brat about it every single time- teasing, mocking, pushing your buttons on purpose because he loved how hard you’d wreck him once he finally got under your skin. He’d send you cocky selfies after his wins, then show up at your door later with that same smug grin and zero shame, practically daring you to put him in his place.

Tonight was the sweetest version yet.

Your team had just handed his team a decisive loss in the championship game. Gojo played like shit in the final quarter he was frustrated, distracted, and clearly affected by the way you’d been locking him down. After the game he disappeared from his team’s celebration, only to show up at your hotel room still in his post-game sweats, hair messy, cheeks flushed from more than just the game.

The second the door closed, the mask slipped back into place.

You barely had time to lock the door before Gojo was already leaning against the dresser, arms crossed, wearing that signature bratty smirk.“Congrats, captain,” he drawled, voice dripping with mockery. “Beat us by fifteen and suddenly you think you’re hot shit? Cute.”

Even after losing, he was still running his mouth. Typical.

You crossed the room in two strides, grabbed him by the front of his hoodie and slammed him back against the wall hard enough to make the cheap hotel artwork rattle. Gojo’s breath hitched, but his eyes sparkled with challenge and heat.

“Been waiting for this since the third quarter,” You growled, shoving a thigh between his legs. “You played like a bitch tonight. Got distracted every time I touched you on the court.”

Gojo laughed breathless, and already a little strained. "Maybe I just like it when you get rough with me in front of all those people,” He shot back, hips rolling once against your thigh like the needy slut he was. “Bet your whole team would lose their minds if they knew their captain’s been fucking me raw for months.”

You gripped his jaw, forcing his head back so those bright blue eyes met yours. His pupils were already blown wide.“Keep talking,” You warned, sliding your free hand down to roughly palm his ass through his sweats. “See how loud I can make you scream within these thin fucking walls.”

Gojo’s smirk faltered for half a second when you shoved two fingers between his cheeks, pressing against his hole through the fabric. He was still sweaty from the game, skin hot, and you could feel the way his thighs trembled.

“F-fuck… at least prep me this time, asshole,”  e muttered, but he was already arching his back, pushing his ass into your hand like he couldn’t help it.

You spun him around, pressing his chest flush against the wall. One hand pinned both of his wrists above his head while the other yanked his sweats and boxers down in one rough motion, exposing that perfect, toned ass. You didn’t bother being gentle—two dry fingers circled his rim before pushing in, stretching him open with the kind of roughness you knew he secretly craved.

Gojo’s forehead hit the wall with a thud. A shaky, broken moan slipped out before he could bite it back.

“Shit-! Slow down, you fucking animal-” But his hips were already rocking back, chasing your fingers, greedy as always. You curled them hard against his prostate and his whole body jerked, a much louder moan tearing from his throat.

The walls really were thin. You could hear people laughing and music thumping from nearby rooms. If he got any louder-and you planned on making him much louder- the entire floor was going to hear the great Gojo Satoru getting his ass destroyed by his rival captain.

His eyes were already starting to water at the corners, lashes clumping together as he panted against the wallpaper. “Still gonna run your mouth, brat?” You asked, scissoring your fingers wider, deliberately rough.

Gojo let out a wet, teary little laugh, voice cracking. “Make me shut up then… if you can.”

He was already falling apart, and you’d barely started.

Gojo’s bratty challenge hung in the air for all of two seconds before you shoved a third finger into him without warning, stretching him wider. His body tensed hard, a choked gasp ripping from his throat as his walls clenched greedily around your fingers.

“F-fuuuck-!” His voice cracked beautifully. “You’re such a dick-ahh!”

You curled your fingers again, brutally targeting his prostate with rough, punishing strokes. Gojo’s hips jerked forward against the wall like he was trying to escape the intensity, only to slam back down on your hand a moment later, chasing more. 

His white hair was already sticking to his forehead with fresh sweat, and when you glanced at his face, you saw the first hints of glassy tears clinging to those long lashes. “Always acting like such a fucking brat,” You growled against his ear, biting the lobe hard enough to make him whine. “Even after I just embarrassed your whole team on the court. You came here knowing exactly what was gonna happen, didn’t you?”

He tried to laugh, but it dissolved into a broken moan as you sped up your fingers.

“I just… hah… wanted to see if the winner had any balls- ngh!”

You pulled your fingers out abruptly. Gojo let out a pathetic, needy sound at the sudden emptiness, his hole fluttering around nothing. Before he could complain, you spun him around, shoved him onto the bed, and yanked his sweats completely off. 

He landed on his back, legs spread, looking up at you with flushed cheeks and that defiant, watery smirk still clinging to his lips.You stripped fast, cock already aching and leaking as you climbed over him. It was a good thing the hotel came stocked with lube,. Gojo’s eyes flicked down, pupils blown wide with lust and a flicker of anticipation.

“Don’t go easy on me now, captain,” he taunted, voice breathy. “Wouldn’t want you to ah-!”

You hooked his legs over your shoulders and after a quick pour of lube pushed inside him in one rough thrust, burying yourself to the hilt. Gojo’s back arched off the bed, mouth falling open in a loud, broken cry that definitely carried through the thin walls.

“Shit-! Too big, you fucking- mmph!”

You didn’t give him time to adjust. You pulled back and slammed in again, hard and deep, setting a brutal pace that made the cheap hotel bed creak loudly. Every thrust punched a moan out of him loud and shameless. His eyes were watering for real now, pretty tears spilling down his face as he clawed at your shoulders.

“Fuuuck slow down, asshole!” He sobbed, but his legs tightened around you, heels digging into your back like he’d die if you actually listened.

You grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at you while you railed him.“Tell the whole floor how much you love getting destroyed by the guy who just beat your whole team,” You hissed, angling your hips to hammer his prostate relentlessly. “Louder, Gojo.”

A particularly hard thrust made him wail, head thrown back against the pillows. His voice cracked high and desperate, echoing off the walls. You could hear the faint sound of a door opening somewhere down the hall, someone was definitely listening now.

Gojo’s cock was leaking all over his toned abs, untouched and twitching with every brutal snap of your hips. His usual cocky grin was gone, replaced by teary, fucked-out bliss and an open mouth that couldn’t stop moaning your name mixed with curses.

“Gonna hah.. gonna cum-fuck, I’m so close-!” He cried, voice hoarse and loud enough that half the team probably heard it.

You leaned down, biting his neck hard enough to leave a dark mark as you pounded into him even harder, chasing your own release while pushing him over the edge. “Cum for me, Satoru. Let them all hear who owns this ass tonight.”

Gojo’s whole body seized up. A loud, broken sob tore out of him as he came untouched, stripes of white painting his chest and chin. His walls clenched rhythmically around you, milking your cock as fresh tears streamed down his flushed face. 

The sight and feeling pushed you over right after him and you buried yourself deep and filled him up with a low groan. For a few long seconds the only sounds were both of you panting, the distant thump of music, and muffled voices from neighboring rooms.

Gojo’s chest heaved, eyes glassy and unfocused as he tried to catch his breath. A shaky, little smirk tugged at his swollen lips.

“…Round two in the shower?” He rasped, voice wrecked. “Or are you scared they’ll file a noise complaint?”

---

You stepped out of the elevator into the hotel lobby the following morning, legs still a little loose from last night’s marathon. Your team was already scattered around the breakfast area- some nursing hangovers with coffee, others loading up plates at the buffet. The energy was high after the championship win, laughter and shit-talking filling the space.

The second you walked over to their table, half your teammates turned with shit-eating grins.

“Yo, Captain!” one of your forwards, Marcus, called out loud enough for the whole lobby to hear. “What the fuck, man? You trying to get us kicked out the hotel or what?”

Your point guard, Tyler, leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Bro. I swear the walls were shaking. We heard that girl screaming through like three rooms. She was loud as hell.”

Marcus laughed, slapping the table. “Nah, not just loud she was getting destroyed. All that moaning and crying? ‘Fuck- ahh!’” He did a terrible high-pitched impression that had the whole table cracking up.

You kept your face mostly neutral, though the corner of your mouth twitched. “You idiots done?”“Hell no,” Tyler grinned wider. “So who was it? That cheerleader from their school that’s been eyeing you? Or the one with the braids from the front desk? She sounded fine as hell, bro”

Another teammate, Jacob “Sounded like she was getting her soul taken. We were all in the group chat last night debating if we should bang on the wall or just let you bw.”

You shrugged, grabbing a coffee from the table and taking a slow sip, trying not to think about how Gojo had been sobbing and moaning your name into the pillow just hours ago while you railed him into next week.

“Mind your business,” You said casually, but your voice had a hint of smugness you couldn’t quite hide. “She was… enthusiastic.”

“Enthusiastic?” Marcus barked a laugh. “Bro she was getting wrecked. You broke her or what?”

Before you could answer, the elevator dinged again.

Gojo Satoru stepped out looking far too good for someone who got his ass absolutely destroyed the night before. His white hair was messy in that deliberate way, neck covered by a hoodie he definitely hadn’t been wearing last night (probably to hide the bite marks), and he walked with that usual cocky swagger even if his steps were just a little careful.

He locked eyes with you across the lobby for a brief second. That familiar bratty smirk tugged at his lips, eyes still a little red-rimmed from all the crying. He looked thoroughly fucked and entirely too pleased with himself.

Your teammates hadn’t noticed him yet.

Tyler nudged you. “For real though she coming down for breakfast? We gotta give her a round of applause. Poor girl probably can’t even walk straight.”

Gojo, now close enough to overhear, let out a soft, amused huff as he passed your table on the way to the coffee station. He didn’t stop, but he made sure you heard him mutter under his breath just loud enough for you: “Tell them I’m free later if they want an encore, captain.”

Your team kept laughing and pressing you for details while Gojo poured himself a coffee, glancing back over his shoulder with those bright, mischievous eyes that promised he was absolutely going to brat out again the second you two were alone.

You took another sip of coffee, hiding your smirk behind the cup.

The temperature in the immediate area dropped. Satoru was suddenly there, Six Eyes glowing dangerously bright behind his sunglasses. Without a word, he activated Blue and cursed energy surged forward, aimed directly at the man’s face.

The man stumbled back with a shout, hands flying up to shield his eyes as the technique nearly blinded him. Gasps and yells erupted around you. People scrambled away, creating a sudden circle of empty space.

Immediately your hand shot out to clamp down on Satoru’s wrist like a vice before he could escalate further. “We’re done here,” you said, voice filled with anger.

You dragged him through the crowd, ignoring the stares and whispers. Satoru didn’t even try to resist, but he was still vibrating with jealousy, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips even as you pulled him outside into the cool night air.

The car ride home was dead silent. Satoru kept glancing at you from the passenger seat, that cocky little grin never fully disappearing, like he was waiting to see exactly how you’d punish him for the mess he’d caused.

The moment the apartment door clicked shut, you didn’t waste time.

“Bedroom. Now.”

Satoru obeyed, but he moved with deliberate slowness to tease you, hips swaying just enough to test you. Once inside, you told him, “Everything off except my shirt.”

He stripped slowly, peeling away his clothes until he was left in nothing but your oversized black button-up. The hem barely covered the tops of his thighs. He looked up at you with bright, expectant eyes, cheeks already faintly flushed.

You sat on the edge of the bed first, then pointed to your lap.

“Face down. Ass up. Legs spread.”

Satoru’s breath hitched. He crawled onto your lap, pressing his chest and cheek into the pillow, arching his back deeply so his ass was presented high. The shirt rode up completely, exposing his smooth, pale cheeks and the slick, puffy folds of his cunt already glistening with arousal.

You took your time rubbing slow circles over his ass, letting the anticipation build until he was squirming. “You don’t get to decide who looks at me, Satoru,” you said calmly, voice low. “That’s my job.”

The first hard spank echoed sharply. Satoru jolted forward with a gasp, fingers twisting in the sheets. You didn’t pause, raining heavy smacks one after another, turning his pale skin a bright, stinging pink, then a deeper red.

Every impact made his ass jiggle and forced more slick to drip from his cunt onto your lap. His thighs eventually started trembling. When you felt the familiar flicker of Infinity trying to wrap around him, you reached between his legs and pinched his swollen clit hard in warning. Satoru cried out, hips bucking wildly as the technique vanished.

“No hiding,” you growled, spanking him harder. “You caused a fucking scene tonight just because someone looked at me.”

Tears quickly gathered in his eyes. His soft, flushed face pressed harder into the pillow as broken moans and whimpers spilled out. The more you spanked him, the wetter he got, forming a growing soaked patch beneath him.

By the time his ass was a vivid, glowing red, Satoru was sobbing openly. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, soaking the fabric. His whole body twitched uncontrollably with every strike, cunt clenching and drooling messily.

You kept the rhythm merciless, pushing him straight through his first orgasm. His pussy pulsed hard, squirting messily onto the mattress as violent shudders ripped through him. You didn’t stop, spanking him through the overstimulation until a second, even stronger orgasm crashed into him. His hips jerked and twitched wildly, another gush of slick flooding out while broken apologies and moans filled the room.

“I’m sorry-! I’m sorry, I won’t do it again- please- ahh~!”

Tears streamed freely down his pretty face. Only then did you decide to take mercy on his ass. You let the silence linger for a moment, one hand gently rubbing over Satoru’s glowing red ass while he continued to twitch and whimper into the pillow.

His cunt was a complete mess- puffy, flushed dark, and still pulsing visibly. He looked utterly debauched: face buried in the tear-soaked pillow, ass raised high, legs trembling, your shirt bunched up around his waist.

You took a long moment just to admire him- your strong, untouchable Satoru reduced to this trembling, leaking, teary-eyed mess because of you.

Only when his breathing started to even out slightly did you move. You lifted him up and repositioned him to be lying flat on the mattress. You shifted behind him, knees planted on the bed as you gripped his hips firmly, fingers digging into the soft flesh. The head of your cock nudged against his dripping entrance, sliding slowly up and down along his slick, puffy folds.

Satoru let out a broken, needy whine, hips instinctively trying to push back against you, desperate for more. “Stay still,” you ordered quietly, voice low and firm. Your grip tightened on his hips, holding him exactly where you wanted.

He whimpered in protest but obeyed, fingers twisting tighter into the sheets.

Then you pushed in.

A wrecked moan tore from Satoru’s throat as your thick cock stretched his oversensitive walls. Even though he was soaked and sloppy, the slow stretch made his whole body jerk and shudder violently. His cunt fluttered and clenched around every inch you gave him, greedy and pulsing like it couldn’t decide whether it was too much or not enough.

“F-fuuuck…” he sobbed, voice hoarse and cracking. “You’re so deep ahh-!”

You kept pushing until you bottomed out completely, hips pressed flush against his reddened ass. You stayed there, buried to the hilt, letting him feel every thick inch stretching him open while his body twitched and spasmed around you.

Then you started moving- slow, grinding rolls of your hips that dragged heavily against every sensitive spot inside him. You forced him to feel exactly who owned him.

Satoru’s moans turned into broken, hiccuping cries as you fucked him through the overstimulation. Fresh tears slipped down his flushed cheeks while his cunt continued to pulse and leak around your cock with every slow thrust.

“You’re mine,” you murmured against his shoulder, voice rough. “I spoil you rotten because I love you… but I guess I always need to remind you who you belong to when you need it.”

He nodded frantically, babbling soft, teary apologies and “yours, yours, only yours” between moans as you continued fucking him slow and deep.

When a weak orgasm finally hit, his cunt squeezed around you like a vice, squirting messily around your cock and dripping down onto the bed.

By the time you finally chased your own release, Satoru was barely coherent- moaning and whimpering your name like it was the only word he remembered. You buried yourself to the hilt and came hard, filling him up with thick, deep pulses. His body shuddered violently at the feeling, another small twitchy orgasm ripping through him.

You stayed inside him for a long while afterward, gently stroking his back and sides while he trembled beneath you. Eventually you pulled out carefully, a thick trail of mixed cum and slick leaking from his used cunt.

Satoru collapsed completely onto the soaked mattress with a broken little sigh. You flipped him over gently and pulled him into your arms. He immediately clung to you like a lifeline, face buried in your chest, legs tangled with yours, arms wrapped tight around your waist. His whole body was still twitching faintly, soft sniffles escaping as the last tears dried on his cheeks.

You pressed slow kisses to the top of his head, his damp forehead, and the bridge of his nose. “I’ve got you,” you whispered. “Behave next time, baby.”

Satoru nodded weakly against your chest, already half-asleep. “…Love you,” he mumbled, voice tiny and hoarse.

“That supposed to scare me?” He rasped, smirking even with metal digging into his skin. You dragged the warm barrel slowly down his body: over his collarbone, across his blood-stained chest, down the hard ridges of his abs until it rested against the growing bulge in his pants.

“You’ve been a real fucking brat lately, Toji,” You growled. “Running your mouth, disobeying orders, acting like I won’t put you in your place. By the time I’m done, you’re gonna be crying for me to go easy on you.”

You stepped back just enough to free your cock which to the surprise of neither of you was already hard from the adrenaline and the sight of him like this defiant, and entirely too smug.

“On your knees.”

Toji scoffed, but dropped anyway, knees hitting the floor with a dull thud. The second your cock pushed past his lips he took you in deep, eyes locked on yours the entire time. That infuriating smirk was still there, even with his mouth stretched around your thick length.

You groaned at the wet heat, then spun the revolver’s cylinder with a loud click-click-click. You pressed the cold muzzle firmly to his forehead between lazy thrusts into his throat.

“Keep looking at me like that and I might just test my luck,” You warned, fucking his face harder. “You feel that? One pull and your brains paint the wall while my cock’s still down your throat.”

Toji moaned around you, your sick threat clearly turning him on, the vibration shooting straight to your balls. He didn’t look away though if anything, the challenge in his eyes sharpened as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked harder as if daring you.

You gripped his messy hair tighter and fucked harder into his throat. “Brat,” You hissed, voice rough with arousal. “We’re just getting started.”

You fucked his throat with punishing strokes, the revolver’s muzzle never leaving his forehead. Every time you bottomed out, his nose pressed against your pelvis and his throat convulsed around you. Toji’s eyes watered but he refused to break eye contact, that cocky glint still burning even as spit dripped down his chin.

You spun the cylinder again and laughed low.

“Still smirking? Even with my cock down your throat and a gun to your head?” You pulled out abruptly, strings of spit connecting his swollen lips to your cock. Before he could catch his breath, you pressed the warm barrel of the revolver between his lips, forcing it into his mouth.

“Suck.”

Toji obeyed with a muffled groan, hollowing his cheeks around the steel while staring straight up at you. The sight of the dangerous assassin sucking on your gun like a cock made heat flare in your gut. You rocked the barrel slowly in and out of his mouth, letting him taste the metal while you stroked yourself right in front of his face.

After a few moments you pulled the gun free with a wet pop and immediately shoved your cock back down his throat in one smooth thrust.

“Greedy fucking brat,” You growled and hauled him up. You dropped onto the old couch and dragged Toji between your legs. “Hands on my thighs. Don’t move them.”

Toji smirked, lips shiny. “You really think I need-”

You clicked the safety off and pressed the muzzle under his jaw again, tilting his head up. “I said don’t move.”

He stayed quiet after that, but his eyes still held annoyance. You grabbed the bottle of lube from the table top and poured a generous amount onto your fingers. Without warning, you reached behind him and pushed two thick fingers straight into his hole. Toji grunted, his back tensing, but he kept his hands on your thighs like ordered.

“Fuck…” He hissed through gritted teeth.

You scissored him open roughly, curling your fingers deep while the revolver stayed pressed under his jaw. His cock twitched hard against his stomach as you worked him.

“Thought you didn’t need prep, big guy?” You mocked, adding a third finger and stretching him wider. The wet, filthy sounds of lube and his greedy hole filled the room. “Yet you already look like you are about to die from 3 fingers"

Toji’s breath hitched. He tried to rock back onto your hand, but you clicked the safety again deliberately making him freeze.

You kept finger-fucking him mercilessly, brushing his prostate with every thrust until his thighs started shaking and low, broken groans slipped out despite his efforts to stay quiet.

By the time you added a fourth finger, Toji’s head had fallen forward against your shoulder, panting hotly against your neck. His hole was slick, stretched, and fluttering greedily around your fingers.

“Enough,” You said, pulling your fingers out. “Get up here and ride me. Slowly though.”

Toji straddled your lap, knees sinking into the couch on either side of your hips. His usual smirk was still there, but it was shaky now, his breathing ragged.

He lowered himself onto your cock, inch by inch, until his ass was flush against your thighs. A deep guttural groan tore from his chest at the full stretch.

The second he tried to slam down harder and take control, you pressed the revolver firmly against his temple.

“Slow!” You warned, voice dark. “You don’t get to fuck yourself until I say so. Understand?”

Toji’s jaw clenched, but he obeyed rolling his hips in slow, deep circles, taking every inch of you while the gun stayed glued to his head.

You let him ride you like that for a while, watching the assassin tremble and fight to keep his sanity while you controlled the pace with the threat of the gun.

Every time he tried to speed up, you clicked the safety and forced him to stop, making him whimper around the barrel when you eventually shoved it between his lips again.

By the time you finally gripped his hips and started thrusting up hard into his perfectly prepped hole, Toji was drooling messily around the gun, eyes glassy, pride crumbling fast.

“Fuck- please…” he mumbled desperately around the steel, voice completely wrecked. “Let me cum… I’ll be good- I swear”

“That’s more like it.”

You gripped Toji’s hips with bruising force and slammed up into him, burying your cock to the hilt in one brutal thrust. His prepped hole took every inch easily now, hot and slick around you, but the stretch still pulled a wrecked groan from deep in his chest.

“Fuuuck-” Toji’s head snapped back, mouth open around the revolver barrel you shoved between his lips again. His hands clutched at your shoulders, nails digging in as you set a merciless pace, fucking up into him like you were trying to split him open.

Every powerful snap of your hips made his thick cock slap wetly against his abs, smearing precum everywhere. The gun made it's way to his mouth, your thumb resting dangerously close to the trigger guard.

“Eyes on me,” You growled, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. “Look at who’s fucking that attitude out of you.”

Toji tried. His green eyes were glassy and unfocused. He hollowed his cheeks around the barrel and sucked on it mindlessly, drool running down his chin and onto him while you railed him.

You laughed darkly and flipped him over without pulling out, bending him over the arm of the couch. His ass was up, back arched, and you drove back in even harder from behind. The new angle made him choke on the gun as you hammered his prostate relentlessly.

You reached around and wrapped your hand around his leaking cock, stroking him in time with your thrusts. “This dick is throbbing. You love getting used like this, don’t you?”

Toji moaned loudly around the steel in his mouth, pushing back to meet every thrust despite the gun at his head. You fucked him faster, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing through the safehouse along with his muffled, broken noises.

You pulled the gun from his mouth just long enough to hear him gasp.

“Beg,” You demanded, slowing your hips to a torturous grind.

“Shit- please… harder,” He rasped, voice completely shot. “Fuck me harder- I need it fuck, I’m your slut, just don’t stop-”

You rewarded him by pounding him even deeper, the couch creaking dangerously under the force. You threw the gun somewhere hearing it clatter against the ground and reached down to spread his cheeks wider, watching your cock disappear into his greedy hole over and over.

Toji’s thighs started shaking. His moans turned into desperate, whimpering cries as you stroked him faster.

“You gonna cum again for me?” You taunted, angling your thrusts to abuse his prostate. “Go on. Cum for me like the pathetic brat you are.”

Toji came with a loud, guttural shout, his hole clamping down around your cock like a vice as thick ropes of cum splattered across the couch. His whole massive body convulsed, muscles flexing and trembling while you kept fucking him through it without mercy.

You pulled out, spun him onto his back again, threw his legs over your shoulders, and slid back inside in one smooth motion. The new position let you fold him in half fucking him even deeper.

“Look at you,” You cooed, pounding him into the cushions. “Big bad Toji Fushiguro, covered in blood and cum, getting his hole wrecked.”

Toji’s eyes rolled back, tears of overstimulation pricking at the corners as you used him mercilessly.

You buried yourself to the hilt and came hard, flooding his insides with a low groan. Even after you finished, you kept the gun pressed to his skin, grinding slowly through the aftershocks while he twitched and whimpered beneath you.

Toji was a complete mess- drooling, cum leaking from his abused hole, chest heaving, eyes hazy and submissive at last.

You leaned down and kissed his scarred lips, voice low and satisfied.