Crowned was the King. Stood above the weight of gold and honour was he. Gojo Satoru. The strongest of all kingdoms. The sovereign.

Alone he was on his throne, dark halls, stygian.

Cloaked in riches, the finest of the lands between. Gojo Satoru. His name carried much weight.

He was a reserved man. His daily routine consisted of council meetings, going over treaties, signing agreements. His hands, constantly stained from ink. Almost purple at the tips of his fingers. Constant agreements he had to sign. Treaties. Letters to other kingdoms.

His breakfasts were always alone. Other than the staff perfectly anchored in parts of the room as though they were statues. They weren’t his friends. He couldn’t actually talk to them. Considering he was the king, they were viewed as lesser than him. Lunch alone. Dinner, alone. The same cycle. Satoru considered his life as boring. So utterly miserable. So lonely. Echoes of nothing but footsteps day in and night. Bickering voices that silenced as his steps were heard. He almost hated being king.

That was all until he met you.

-

It was your wedding day. Kingdoms coming together to celebrate the reign of the strongest clan and his wife.

Chants of

“Long live his sovereignty!” Scattered across the Gojo kingdom. All the days leading up to the wedding, noblemen and noblewomen congratulating his kingship.

Chandeliers hung as though they were constellations on the rounded ceiling. A warm, honeyed radiance bathed every silvery surface. The light, catching on a few faces. The palace had been perfectly decorated for this very moment.

There he was seated on his throne in the main hall. People gathered around the room. Small circles. Gossiping. A few noblewomen cast glances his way.

“Have you heard?”

“Gojo has taken a wife.”

“Ugh I wish it were me.”

“No longer single for us to ogle at.” The ladies giggled at that.

There is no doubt Gojo Satoru is a handsome man. A very handsome one indeed. Flowy snowy white hair, to his milky unwrinkled skin. Flawless. Not a rough edge in sight. His sharp nose. The small pink hue of his plump lips. To his eyes. Indigo outer rings with a hint of teal. A true blue. So vibrant one could get lost in them.

Elbow on the arm of the chair, his hand supporting his drooping face. A few white strands framing his eyes. His cerulean eyes, scanning the room. He was bored. Annoyingly so.

The real reason everyone had gathered here tonight was to congratulate his marriage. You. But you weren’t in the main hall.

A princess of a land so very far away from his. He wondered how he had found you. How anyone found you. You were so quiet. Reserved.

The first day he saw you he knew. You were going to be his wife.

He had to be strategic. Needed to make sure you’re not scared off.

He had received an invitation to a festival. So he went.

-

It was a festival celebrating the good harvest of a northern kingdom, your kingdom. Your palace gates stood open from sunrise, welcoming people of all kinds. Nobleman to villagers alike. Garlands of wheat and crimson leaves hung from every stone archway. Tables stretched across the courtyard beneath a canopy of golden lanterns, embroidered with your kingdom’s emblem. Musicians filled the air with lively melodies as children danced between stalls piled high with apples and freshly baked bread.

At noon, your father, the king, stepped onto the dais, lifting the season first loaf of bread towards the cheering crowd. So many smiles. It always warmed your father’s heart to see his people. He declared,

“This harvest belongs to every hand thy sowed, tended and gathered it.” An eruption of cheers loudening before dying down seconds after. He continues, “Tonight, we celebrate not only the bounty of our fields but the strength of our people.”

A wave of eager applause echoed through the crowd. A few whistles. People searched for any drink nearest to them, lifted it up towards the king and the sky. A huge thanks for another prosperous year.

A buzzing lively scene. Yet, where were you? He knows of the princess of this kingdom. Yet none of the women he’d seen fit a princess’s description.

Gojo had been forced to mingle with the crowd. He didn’t hate it but neither did he like it. The only thing that kept him somewhat engaged was seeing his good friend in the near distance, buried in a large crowd of women. Bubbly women. They wore gowns that emphasised their chests, pushing it upwards it almost looked as though it’ll pop out.

Duke Geto Suguru. A very handsome man with striking features, many women say. Jet black lusciously long hair falling past his waist. Perfectly slanted eyes that did only so well to hide the natural mischievous glint of his plum eyes. Well built, good posture. He wore his hair in his signature style, a bun with many loose strands. Some framing his face. One thing about Geto that Gojo loved was his playfulness that got annoying at times. Geto loves women. It truly was entertaining to see.

To an untrained eye, the women weren’t necessarily flaunting themselves at him, but they could be a little more subtle.

Gojo was standing by a stall with freshly baked bread, just watching his friend talk away with these ladies. And they eagerly engaged whenever they could. Cutting each other off so they’d have Geto’s pretty eyes back on them. Some wore a gown that showed off a bit more than they were allowed. Some hands fixing parts of their dresses, pushing up from underneath the breasts with sweaty hands, while holding an intense stare with Geto. And Geto, being the man that he is, would make them know their efforts weren’t in vain. With a few glances from their faces down to the meat of their chests, holding his eyes there longer than he should. He's a gentleman of course. But there’s only so much he can take. It so happens that his eyes fall to one of the ladies’ peaking breasts.

Reaching the bubbly crowd in heavy stomps of rich fabrics and gold, Gojo hurls an arm onto his friend’s shoulders. There’s that natural mischievous face in play. He’s smirking at Gojo, an eyebrow raised in fake concern that only Gojo knows.

“Suguru, my good friend. It’s been a while since we last spoke, shall we escort ourselves and catch up?”

That wasn’t really a question. Geto knows. He’s just stood there, grinning at his friend’s poor attempt to get him away from these women. Gojo raises his brows slightly, the natural sleepy smile on his lips curving tighter, menacingly if you squint, a hidden message. A warning. Geto I swear on this earth if we don’t leave this instant I’m going to hurt you. Geto surrenders his hands, lifting them just shoulder level, his head falling forward as a small huff of a laugh leaves him.

“Alright alright. Sigh. Excuse me ladies.” Following up with a wink. The two men walk away stumbling into each other with Gojo’s arm still wrapped around Geto’s shoulder, squeezing harder. The echo of Geto’s laughter fades as they get further away. Gojo lifts that same hand up slamming it hard on Geto’s head, there’s an echo. A tiny “ow” coming from Geto.

“Oh you’re excused alright.” One of the women seductively mutters.

It’s nearing the evening. Pink skies strew over the clouds. The festival, still as lively as ever. Gojo’s strolling through your palace floors. Away from his friend that so desperately wanted to be with a certain woman he hadn’t known of. It’s quieter indoors. Echoes of each heavy footfall of his boots scattered across the halls, reverberating off the walls.

Beautiful paintings of seas littered on most walls. Strange. No picture of the King or the Queen. No picture of the princess.

He stood still, eyeing a specific painting. It looked unfinished? Might have been purposely unfinished. Then he hears it. The faintest humming sound from a room so close.

He rushes over to the door, eager to see where that sound came from. It’s partly open, he pauses just beyond it. A narrow sliver of darkness concealing him. Then he sees. He sees you.

Your back faces him, unhearing. You think you’re alone. So you hum to yourself. A tranquil rhythm of one of the melodies you’d heard earlier. His gaze settles on you, noticeably widened eyes, softening. Unmoving.

For a long moment, he simply stares.

You’re painting. A beautiful sea with bright skies connected to land. The perfect balance of nature. There’s an admiration in his eyes that has long since grown beyond anything he knows how to name. Something so unbearably tender softens his expression further as he takes you in. His eyes trace down the top of your head to the back of your neck to your shoulders, your waist, the way in which you sit so sweetly on soft fabric. Legs curled to one side, a hand holding your weight on the other side.

His eyes linger over the smallest things. The dip of your neck. Your posture. How you didn’t care for it to be perfect. No one was here according to you, you didn’t need to pretend. He felt the tightest pull, so fiercely at his chest. An aching warmth.

He takes in a heavy breath and enters, pushing the door so slowly you can’t hear it. Only taking two steps before realising what he’s doing. You could scream. You could be frightened by him. Instead, he takes two steps back before knocking at the entrance door.

You spin around so quickly, an agitated look etched on your face. You usually never get disturbed during these quiet moments.

You suck in a quick breath of air, brows furrowed.

“Your majesty!” You utter, bowing your head with hands flat on the floor.

“In that case,” he starts, getting on one knee before bending his neck forward in a quick bow, lifting it back up like he needs to see you.

“Your majesty.” He repeats back to you. A small smile.

You’re quick to raise your head up in surprise. Mouth ajar, hesitant breaths. You stare at him with such confusion and he chuckles at that.

“No need to be wary of me princess.”

For some odd reason, your heart flutters. You feel it thump, louder than normal, you hoped he couldn’t hear it. It wasn’t a term of endearment. It was merely your title, nothing more. Nothing intimate. You hated the way your brain replayed it.

Princess.

Breathlessly you chuckle, nerves still playing with you.

Your hands are cruddy with various blues. Still staring at him in what seems to be curiosity, he takes a few confident steps closer. Each step makes you anxious. Then he kneels, with a forearm resting on one knee, so you’re eye level. Thick thighs bulging out his black pants.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of your face, no. He tilts his head a little to the side, studying you. It’s hard to stare back. He’s awfully handsome. It was unfair the effect he had on you.

“The paintings on those walls outside, are they yours?” He asks with an amused raise of his left brow. It was hard to miss the way his eyes quickly glanced down to your lips before rushing back to your eyes.

“Uh..yes your highness. I paint a lot.” You speak with too many nerves. You’re playing with the hem of your dress, tucking your legs, hiding them under your clothes.

What would your lady governess think if she sees you.

“Hm.” He nods.

“Not only are you talented but princess, forgive me, you are so beautiful.” He says with a sigh, like he needed to tell you. You pause. Thoughts scrambling.

He has not once looked away, gaze still fixed on you. It travels down to your lips again, then up to your eyes. You have been called beautiful before, certainly but never quite like this. Never by a man who appeared to expect nothing in return other than to be in your presence.

Your father always spoke highly of you, but compliments from other men, suitors, were a different matter completely. Their praises were calculated, only said beneath your father’s watchful eye, dressed in all the proper courtesies. Flattering words, some a little more than others, in means of securing your hand, well mostly the king’s favour.

But him.

There’s no audience here.

“Uh- uh thank you, your majesty.”

“No need.”

And the two of you stay like that in a comfortable silence. He watches as you paint. Soft strokes. His eyes flickering from the canvas to your fingers. He’s seated beside you, legs crossed. You catch him staring at the side of your face, he doesn’t look away. You smile at him. He smiles back, a few teeth show. Cute, you think.

-

He dreams of you. Every night without fail. Ever since that day. It’s been two years and he still thinks about it. You. Sitting on the silk you’ve laid out on polished floors, painting without a care of the world around you. Gentle strokes of your paint brush dance across the canvas. Blue. Lots of it. Started dark at the bottom of the canvas, slowly brightening. A build up of indigo fading into cornflower then a delicate creamy baby blue. Dashes of white where the blue finally ends. Prominent darker wisps of blue scatter at the bottom the large canvas. A sea? Ah. You were painting the sea. Your fingers stretched over above the blue. Higher on the canvas. Starting something else. Green and white snowy looming figures— mountains. Mountains that resemble the ones Gojo would see on his way to your palace.

You dream of him too. The contortion of his arms. The flex of his jaw. The way he speaks of you. You remember how he’d whisper in your ear, telling you a joke of something that made you snort. You remember how warm his breath felt on your ear. How you felt your face warm at his closeness. His smell wafting in your nose. He smelt so good. You want him. But you can’t tell him that. You’ll look too desperate.

He was visiting your kingdom again, you two becoming close friends was something you wouldn’t have ever expected. He travelled a lot. On each visit he made sure to bring something that reminded you of the sea.

The constant closeness, the constant banter between the two of you had made you fall for him so deeply.

It was one special visit. He had brought a souvenir from a travel to another kingdom. A bracelet. Patterns of waves adorned it, with his initials?

It was late at night, in your family garden. The two of you sat on silk on the ground. Staring up at the darkened blue sky. You were. He was staring at you.

“Princess.” He calls you. You turn to him with a hum.

He gulps, before continuing.

“We have spent much time together…”

Oh no. It sounds like he wants to leave. You panic. Hand reaching out to cover his lips, but he grabs your wrist quickly with a laugh.

“I’m not leaving.. I just— sigh.” He’s struggling to get his words out. You stare at him in fear, hoping that this friendship you’ve built over the years doesn’t end.

“I cannot bear to keep this in me longer princess.”

You tilt your head in genuine concern.

“I love you… I have ever since that day.” He isn’t looking at you now. A small flush of pink litter on his cheeks and nose, and ears you note.

The corners of your eyes prickle with tears as you smile so lovingly at him.

“Gojo. Please look at me.” You say with a shaky whisper. He does. But he’s silent. Tensed.

“I love you.” You say in the quietest voice, afraid you’d sob.

His face lightens, with his thumb still on your wrist, he circles the inner part. Gleaming at you brightly.

“Say you will be my wife. Please. I cannot imagine a life where you are not with me.”

There it is. The question you’ve waited for your entire life.

You sob out a “yes” and jump into his arms, crying softly in his neck.

You remember that night so clearly, it shocks you how quickly time flies. The wedding night.

You’re walking over to your husband’s bedroom, dressed in a white corset with a draping skirt, almost transparent. Only the maids are allowed in this quarter of the palace. Timid steps, hands fisting into balls at your sides. Crescent shaped boring into your palms. Sweat forming at your hairline. You’ve never sworn before. Fuckfuckfuck, your brain scrambles. Heard the staff around you do it though. You’ve heard all kinds of things from them.

However you were always afraid your lady governess would somehow hear you. But you’re married now. Away from her finally. It shouldn’t scare you this much. Might as well do it now. You mumble your thoughts aloud.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” A small upward tilt of the corners of your mouth. You’re proud of yourself.

You wait for the guilt to swallow you but you don’t feel anything. Not a single thing. Weird. Your lady governess made it seem so much worse. It helps shake a few nerves, not nearly enough though.

You’re face to face with the towering wooden doors of your bedroom. That small smile quickly diminishes into a thin line, fear taking hold of you. You turn to see a few maids surrounding the area, gesturing for you to enter. Fake smiles smeared on their faces. You turn back, facing the doors. With a heavy sigh you push them open and enter. They shut behind you, leaving you there. You feel a small cramp in your lower stomach. Ah.

It’s your ovulation week. Well, your ovulation day. Just so happens to be the same day as your wedding day. Almost as if your body knows you’re going to get something out of this. Prepping you for that special ceremony you’ve dreaded your entire life. Alone you’ll be with him. The sun had faded from the sky a few hours before, a bold velvet black coated the kingdom skies, a pure white moon in the far distance. Flecks of its light shone into the room, illuminating the place.

There was a fireplace etched in the rich walls. Tiny cracks of wood sounding like a distant echo. Everything was perfectly arranged. You hated it. Pristine white walls adorned with rich patterns of sculpted flowers denting through. A few paintings of seas— but it looks so specific. Like the sea surrounding your kingdom. You’re not sure if that was on purpose.

Dark wooden bed frame pillars anchored the bed at each corner, positioned with such deliberateness even the shadows around seemed intentional. To the silken sheets that spilt over each side of the bed. Blue and white in honour of him. His clan. Now yours. Expected to be stained with a faint red. It’s what you’ve been taught, you didn’t know any better. ‘A little bleeding is fine dear. It’s natural.’ ‘It’s supposed to hurt dear.’ You dreaded this. The faint irritation etched on your brow. The avoidance of your eyes. He saw it.

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting you… ever.” His voice sounded from the opposite end of the room. Gentle. Standing afar near the shared bathroom, just next to the fireplace, Gojo was dressed in fine blue robes, the neckline cut unexpectedly deep, a sliver of bare skin showing. You noticed it only because, inexplicably, your eyes were reluctant to look away. It stopped just at where his chest ends. It was the finest silk you’ve ever seen. White ribbons scattered along the seams.

You’re stood just in front of the big wooden doors. Hands pressed flat against it. You’re glancing around the room, avoiding his face. His softened eyes dart down to your semi trembling fingers.

You want to believe him. He’s never given you a reason not to. It was just this moment that scared you. The way you’d grown up. Teachings of this night. All the young women gathered around, seated on luxury carpet floors, some legs folded by the knee, some crossed, whilst your lady governess talks you through what’s expected of you.

‘Just lay there, make sure you’re perfectly still for he may not like it. Remember girls, disobedience to your husbands is not acceptable.’

He’s still a man after all. Except Gojo Satoru truly would never hurt you. He took a few leisure steps toward you. Graceful he is. He always walked with certainty, knowingness. A kind of commanding presence that lingers after each step, as though the air around still held traces of him after he’d walk past a person. That is, you feel him. In every room you know he’s there. He knows you do. Your body knows it before your mind can.

He’s in front of you now. A large hand coming up to your face. Your eyes follow it. His fingers lands on your cheek before the rest of his hand settles there, grazing it, cradling it. You don’t fight it— don’t fight the feel of it. It’s so unexpectedly soft. A few rough marks here and there, years of hard work and experience but the gesture is so soft. His thumb reaches out, stroking at the apples of your cheeks. Warm, he notes. His thumb circles it. And he’s just stood here, admiring you. Glowing blue eyes staring as if he’s never seen anything as precious as you before. They’re heat ridden. Low.

“You are radiant.” He quietly says, no hesitation in his voice.

A small gasp leaves you and your eyes finally meet his. Slightly widened, dancing between each of his eyes. He gives you a warm smile, reaching his eyes making them crinkle at the sides. You find yourself smiling back. An infectious smile he has. A very charming man you’ve grown to like.

He lowers his face to you, pressing his forehead to yours. The tiniest thud. Just skin softly flattened together. He’s looking at you in reverence. Loving eyes boring into your slightly afraid ones. They’re glistening blue. Like sunlight dancing on sea. You’re both exchanging slow deep breaths. Noses brushing. There's heat in the air, you feel it. Your body, growing warmer by the second. Your eyes glance down at his wet lips. He leans into you, head tilted to your right. His massive body looming over yours. Dwarfing you.

He doesn’t kiss you at first. Just a brush of his opened lips on yours. His breath fanning your lips. Slow blinks of your lashes, a slightly quivering lip, he’s waiting for you to stop him. You don’t. You want this. Whatever this feeling he’s giving you. He leans in further, the both of your eyes fluttering shut, sealing you both. Your hands come up, fiddling with the stubby hairs at his nape. The most tender touch you’ve ever felt on your lips. A closed-mouth press of his on yours. When Gojo felt your lips finally, he felt a wave of heat rush to his cock. The muscle hardening instantly.

The softest lips to ever grace this earth, he thought. He lifts you up so quickly and eagerly you register it. You really register it. A brief display of his strength, your brain stutters. He wraps your legs around his stiff waist then puts an arm around it, holding you there. It cages you with how big it is. Whilst your hands are flat on his chest not knowing where else to put them. A gasp leaves your mouth giving him the opportunity to enter his tongue. You try to avoid your tongue from his. This odd feeling. It’s too wet. You don’t like the warm feeling sitting low at your belly. The rapid thumping of your heart. The stuttering of your brain. It’s too new.

He sucks at your lower lip instead, groaning, pink lips plush against yours. Your brows are screwed in confusion and… need? A small noise escapes you. You think nothing of it, but Gojo.. he’s so hard. His brows jolt the moment he hears you. A pained expression on his face you can’t see. You haven’t noticed the straining length of his cock pressing at the lower part of his robes.

He rolls his tongue deep in your mouth and this time, you like it. You feel him squeeze a large hand at the side of your waist encouraging you. Timidly, you give the smallest roll of your tongue, brushing it against his. He whines like he’s thanking you for giving it to him. The sound makes you feel sticky between your thighs. An uncomfortable throb of your pussy following along. Then you feel it. A bead of slick easily leaving your hole. You whimper into his mouth, unsure of what feeling just came over you. You know you’re ovulating, but it’s never been like this. You, leaking for someone.

He retracts his head a little, your tongues still connected. His hazy eyes staring at your wet muscle. Slowly, he rolls it around your tongue, circling his larger one around yours. You’re panting, warm breaths mixing. He closes in again. Tilting his head, nudging his opened lips against yours. Sloshing it together. A perfect fit.

You pull back, a string of spit pulling from your mouth to his opened one. Gojo’s eyes trail down to the spit connecting you both and the pained expression on his face is amplified. Utterly affected by you.

He brings a thumb up to your parted wet lips, smoothes it along your bottom one for what felt like hours but was only a few seconds and pushes at it. The indent of his thumb at the centre of your lower lip. You’re watching him, a little more dopey now. He slides his thumb in, purposely grazing your lower lip so you really feel it.

“Anh!” You’re unfocused. You didn’t expect him to actually go in.

Your teeth catch onto it instinctively, a harmless clamp, unsure of what else he wants to do.

“Mmh no teeth love..” A low whisper. You listen, your mouth opening wider, top teeth lifting, giving him more room. He bites his bottom lip, a small grin forming.

“..There we go beautiful. Now suck.”

Your body goes stiff. Suck? Your eyes gesture to his thumb in your mouth. He lifts his eyes from your lips, they travel up to your eyes. He sees the lightheaded glare from them, a little confused too. He gives an encouraging nod at you before staring back at your opened mouth, pushing the wet thumb on your flat tongue, rubbing it. He watches the way your brow tensed at that. You liked it, he notes.

You hollow your cheeks and suck. A tiny slurping noise followed after. He groans. So loudly. You feel your clit throb, jolting your whole body.

“Uhn!” You tighten against him.

He keeps pushing his thumb at your tongue as you suck. Every push being a silent command of him telling you to keep going. And you do. Your tongue pushing back against his thumb. Curling itself around him. He leans his face into yours, warm breath gliding over your lips, nose, his thumb still in your mouth. He pushes his lips into your lower one. Mimicking you, he sucks at your bottom lip. Biting it, not enough to hurt you, but enough that you feel it. You feel what you’re doing to him. But he has to be gentle. He promised he wouldn’t hurt you. So he won’t.

He removes his damp thumb, it glistens in the light, the corners of your mouth ridden in yours and his spit. With his tongue entering first, he closes his full lips on yours again. A long open mouthed kiss. Tongues rolling against each other once more. He’s got you stuck. Bodies still pressed against the large wooden door, legs still fixed around his waist.

He pulls back, slightly out of breath and there’s you. Hard sucks of air entering and leaving you. He giggles at that. The white hairs framing his forehead now dampened.

You’re breathless and softly laughing with him.

He trails a free hand to your lower back, fingers treading upwards ever so slowly. You’re watching him with a hazy glare. A little glossy. Sluggish warm huffs slip past your wet lips. Your faces are so close. You can really see him. Flawless skin seeming so absurdly perfect, making every tiny mole stand out. There’s one under his eye. Faintly brown. It’s almost impossible to see.

With two skilled fingers, he finds the ribbon holding your clothing too tightly. He traps the ribbon between his index and middle before giving it a light tug, the corset loosens immediately. Your stomach expands in relief, lungs now able to take in gulfs of air that no longer feel uncomfortable. With the softest smile, he kisses at the right corner of your mouth before continuing. Removing the ribbon one by one until it falls onto the floors with the tiniest sound. Your head feels light. No man has ever seen you this way.

Gojo’s brain short circuits. Your tits planted directly in front of him. Nipples pebbled from the air and him. Especially because of him. He sucks in the air, lowers his face. His brows screwed in concentration and want. He closes his eyes, opens his mouth and plants it on your left tit. He sucks. Real long and hard. Your hands immediately find the top of his head, fingers clawing his hair as you stutter out a moan.

“Gojo?!” You whimper out.

“Mmmh no.” He shakes his head. Still engrossed with the feeling of your tit in his mouth.

“Call me Satoru or husband. The Gojo name is yours.”

He says it, mouth full of tit.

After sucking for what felt like eternity, he comes up for air, strings of spit linking between your left tit and his lips and stares up at your heat ridden face. Widened eyes, parted lips, in both fear and unfathomable lust. He grins at you. A cocky stare, slanted eyes. It’s as if he’s casted a spell on you with the way you have a bodily reaction to that smile, those teeth. Goosebumps litter all around you, he sees it.

He plants wet kisses from the underneath of your right tit leading all the way to your nipple, sucking again. Groaning into it. He carefully bites it. Seeing the squeak that leaves you, he does it again. An airy moan passing through your lips. Head tipped slightly back. Eyes fluttering, not shut, but all over the place. Watching him bite your tit felt so wrong but so good. This is nowhere close to what your lady governess had taught you.

He bites again, sucking right after. Another deep groan of his voice. With his hand still at your back, he circles the raw skin, tickling you. You're jerking your body away, unable to register the sensations he’s giving you. His other hand grasping at your hip. You weren’t fully nude. Not yet. Still draped in a silky transparent skirt that fell to the floor. He hooked a finger at the top of your skirt, dipping in, touching your skin. He wasn’t afraid to touch you. No. He’d been so desperate to do so. Waiting until nightfall just to be this close to his wife had almost killed him.

He pulls down the draping skirt, a harsh tug this time. Your hands still fisted in his hair, you feel your skirt fall completely off. A loud choke of air tumble out of your mouth.

“Satoru!”

“Hm?” He hums, kneeling down with a heavy grunt, pressing a long kiss at your exposed hip.

He hooks each of your legs over his rigid shoulders, your clawing at his scalp at this point. Uneven breaths pumping out of you. Watery eyes. You bite your bottom lip when you feel it. A kiss. Just at the top of your mound. His bottom lip brushing trimmed hairs. He trails opened mouth kisses, purposely, down your mons. Sticking out his tongue, he licks back up to the top of your mound. Trailing kisses down again. He makes his way down to where your clit hides between dripping folds. He spreads your legs further onto his shoulders, your pussy being on full display, getting his face closer to you. Smelling you. He’s salivating.

“Let me taste you? Please.” He says with a twinge of a whine. You’re too embarrassed to speak so you nod.

He brings the tip of his pointed nose to your clit and does a big sniff.

“You smell incredible my love.” He sounds so miserably intoxicated.

He pushes his face to the side, his mouth near your left inner thigh, a slightly darker area. He kisses it before biting it, not hard. You sigh out a moan. He’s so close to your core.

Then, he sucks. Loud wet noises fill the room. He sucks and kisses his way from your inner thigh to the opening of your pussy.

Gathering a wad of saliva, he spits at it. You choke.

“Satoru! That’s— hngh!” You’re cut off before you can even get it all out. He lurches his face forward, nose bumping your clit he begins sucking away at your hole. Wet filthy noises fill your ears, it’s too disgusting. You think it’s disgusting, but you seriously love it. Not secretly, not anymore. You’re too far gone for anything to be secrecy.

He curls his tongue along your slit, parting it. Tracing your sopping hole with his wet muscle, he pushes in. Nose brushing at your clit with every bob of his head. You scream. Head falling back against the doors. You’re pretty sure the maids outside can hear you. There’s no point in caring anymore. You were lied to. Your lady governess, the whispering of maids telling you how painful it was all going to be. Yet here you are screaming in blinding pleasure because of your husband.

He’s moving his hands so they rest on your ass. Gripping them so tightly it hurts. He knows it hurts so good. Pushing you further into him. You’re pushing away at him, his scalp burning at your fingers. Nails digging into him so hard, his eyes roll back at both the feel and your cunt finally in his mouth. He moans, the sound reverbing through your whole body.

He’s slurping, kissing so filthy. Switching to your inner thighs again, biting hard enough there’s an ugly bruise. Now back onto your dripping pussy. It feels too good. How has this been kept away from you your entire life.

You feel something. Unfamiliar. Burning. Scorching. There’s stars dancing around the room, everywhere going white. A coil in your lower belly, so immensely built up, snaps. You're unfurling. Cumming so hard. It blinds you for long seconds. A silent scream. Your neck on full display, bent back. He kisses your pussy through your orgasm.

Your hands uncurl from his ruined hair that still looks perfect on him. With your hands you attempt to push away at his forehead, begging him to give you space. He won’t let that happen.

He’s giggling at your attempt to push him. He’s much stronger than you. It’s cute.

You’re coming down, still drunk on your orgasm, he’s shaking his head so that his nose forcefully grazes your wet clit. Planting tongue kisses all over your inner thighs, tracing them up to your clit before sucking so hard you go limp. He catches you quickly. Hurling your body into his, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your head is lolled, heavy. Eyes dazed. He pulls it against his shoulder with a hand, smoothing gentle circles on your back, shushing you.

“You’re ok. I know it was too much. I’m sorry.” You hear his soft low voice tell you.

He carries you towards the bed, in heavy thuds, bare feet plastered on the ground, laying you on top of it delicately. Treating you as though you were a rare flower. He follows along, his knees either side of you, denting the sheets.

He smoothes your front. Large hands softly circling over your stomach, your shoulders, to your cheeks. He rubs it, leans in and kisses you so tenderly. It shocks you, the duality of it. How is he so rough at times yet so gentle.

He brings his arms up to his waist, hands uncurling the tie of his robes. He pulls it down his taut shoulders, pooling at his waist. He’s so huge. Lean muscle. All built. The definition of raw mass. Looming figure.

Bulging stiff biceps, curling as he takes off his clothes. Each segment of muscle on his torso protruded out, separated by deep narrow lines. His abs looked drawn on. His wide broad chest, dusted with green blueish veins, stretched as he moved. He opens the robes fully, removing it from his waist, throwing it elsewhere in the room.

Your eyes dart down and you see it. That weapon your governess had always talked about. That fleshy sword between his legs. It looked too big. Impossibly big. It wasn’t standing. No. It hung. An angry flush of red splotched at the tip. Bulging veins running down to it. Wet beads of pre dripping from the slit onto the sheets, some running halfway down his shaft. He’s leaked so much. You saw it attempt to throb. Just a jut of its head lifting too quickly before falling back down with another wad of transparent seed spurting out. It couldn’t even bob properly with how heavy it was. Behind it, two very heavy sacks rest. One slightly droopier than the other.

Were you shocked? Well yes. But it makes so much sense that he’s so well endowed. Very fitting on his large body.

He brings his hand up to it, it made his hands look small, grabs it from the base, giving two slow pumps. Your hips buck instinctively. You need that thing inside by all means. Was it your ovulation making it worse? Absolutely. He watches your body squirm under his heated stare, biting his lip as you do it.

“My body burns for you. See this, right here.” He tells you in a strained tone, pointing at his aching cock. A few more droplets of pre slip out.

“It leaks for you.”

A small whine stumbles out of you. Eyes twitching, your tits bounce with every heave of your chest.

He lowers the heavy thing, his hips over yours, caged by your legs and rests it on your mons, the hairs around you kiss his cock. It stretches past to your lower stomach. He was so intimately big. There is no actual way it’ll all go in. He’ll kill you.

“It won’t kill you.” He chuckles. Head thrown back a tad with a few jolts of his body.

“My wife is so funny.”

You’re panicking. Nothing about this is amusing. Your hands are clawing at the sheets beside you, your knuckles brightening.

With his hand still on his cock, he retracts his hips. The tip of his cock lagging slowly down your hairy mound, past your clit, a breathless sigh, to your soused hole. Jetting out drizzles of slick, it falls past the crack of your ass onto the bed.

He ever so slowly pushes forward. Eyes heavy. The knob pops in barely. You tighten.

“It won’t fit— Satoru it’s not.” You’re breathless, crying, pushing away from him. Hands planted on his sculpted chest. You’re smacking him but you’re so much weaker. Little kitten taps on his chest, shoulders.

“It will. It’ll fit.” He repeats. Low, syrupy. A faint whine easing through it, faintly irritated. He sounds so sure. With screwed brows, a concentrated stare. Nose flaring every few seconds. He eyes his cock at your entrance. You’ve soaked him so much. Along with his pre. He’s so wet for you.

He grips his hands on each of your thighs, squeezing it. His thumbs pressing your inner thighs

“We’ll make it fit.” He whispers.

He didn’t prep you with his long fingers. Didn’t stretch you on purpose. No. He wants to feel your pussy stretch around his cock, not his fingers. He wants to feel you take the real thing. He takes out his cock. The tip glistens with your slick and his pre. He draws a wad of saliva. Spitting, it falls onto your pussy, trickling down your folds.

He pulls your body further down on the bed, bringing you impossibly closer. Aligning his painfully throbbing cock at your hole again. He pushes in. Your body goes rigid. You feel it. The hardness, stretching you.

“Breathe for me. Hn! Let me in.” He strains out. He curves his body into you. Leaning his face into your chest, he runs kisses up the valley of your breasts. Mushy, wet. Reaching the curve of your neck, he widens his lips. Deepening the kiss. That spot that gets you delirious. You didn’t even know it felt this way. This good.

He feels the squeezing grip on his cock loosen. He pushes in further.

Halfway in your pussy, it spurts out slick with every push. Spraying onto his thighs.

You hands come around his neck, nails scratching along his shoulders before settling in his hair. You hide your face into his neck and he keeps going. Keeps bulldozing his cock until he brushes past a spot that has you shaking with a broken moan. Your whole body tightening around him.

“Shh. Chu. I’m here.”

He pulls his hips back and gives a leisure thrust. Another stuttered moan.

He pulls his hips back again, this time a harder thrust. You shriek, unable to keep noises in you when he’s grazing that spot. He’s definitely doing it on purpose.

He does it again. And again. So much that your body trembles with every connection of his hips to yours. Every kiss on your neck, your cheeks. Your lips. Tongues intertwining in a messy kiss. Teeth clashing.

Long hard strokes into you. But he still hasn’t fully entered you, no. He will though.

He’s fucking you so hard you see stars. Another three pumps of his cock at your spot and you’re convulsing. Juices spraying everywhere, your back bowed in a beautiful arch. Your nails that were clawing the nape of his neck fall onto the sheets in a soft thud. You claw at the sheets instead. Body too limp to move properly.

“There we go sweetheart. Mmmh fuck you’re divine.”

“Angh! Satoru, please!” Tears spill out of your eyes in many droplets. Falling down your face, falling onto the sheets.

He leans down and captures your bottom lip with his teeth, moaning into you, feeling your shatter around his cock.

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let you come down from your high. He’s bullying his hips, his cock getting deeper and deeper with every thrust. Until, one heavy thrust, scraping deeply at your spot. He brings a thumb down to your clit. Quick circles on the wet muscle. You’re bucking your hips away. Thighs raised, back bowed.

“No please— please. I want you.” Needy voice fanning your ear.

There’s a strange feeling low in your stomach, it feels immensely good. Better than just now. Wetter.

You scream, squirting out your cum. It sprays everywhere, onto his abdomen. His chest. You’re stuck in an arch. Crying full on tears, sobbing. Weak punches at his shoulders.

He’s just grinning at you, so proudly. His wife squirted.

“Ugh fuckfuck— you’re incredible.” He groans out.

He still hasn’t stopped. Your tits ripple with every jolt of your body. He watches it jump. A rising pressure at the base of his cock. He’s close.

Another four hefty thrusts of his cock and he’s gone. His cock gushes. Semen spraying everywhere along your walls, he’s whining into your ear, head too heavy to hold up it falls onto your shoulder. He doesn’t pull out.

He moves your legs, his hands under your thighs, pushing them into you. Now your knees are to your chest, ankles over his shoulders, his bulky weight on you. A mating press.

He places a warm chaste kiss on your shoulder. It’s his way of knowing you’re his. Grounding himself, a reality check. Knowing you’re still here.

You feel your mind break. Unable to do anything but take it. You can’t think, can’t breathe properly. Uneven breaths leaving you with every stuttered moan. You’re whimpering, whining, crying. Flailed arms smacking away at the sheets, his shoulders. Every noise you make, fractured by the wicked movement of his hips. Incoherent babbles roll off your tongue like a frayed thread. Your eyes are half lidded, spinning. Then fully open, then rolling at a particular feel of his tip hit your spot. Long strewn out moans spill out from your sodden drooling lips. He’s so deep. Pistoning hips rutting into you. Eyes shut tight. So many tears leaking out the corners. Beads of sweat roll down his heated face, lingering at his jaw before falling onto you. Opening his eyes, he sees you. Wrecked in pleasure. You bring your forearms over your eyes, trying to ground yourself in some way. He panics. Extending a burly arm, he reaches towards your face, removing each arm in a soft tug. Caressing your cheek with a warm palm before tapping it twice.

“Hey— hey. Stay with me.” He calls out. You can’t really hear him. Not over that blinding feeling. You feel yourself squelch at a certain thrust of his hips. A certain rut of his bulbous tip brushing past your spot, hitting the end? Your cervix. His white trimmed hairs catching on your clit. Tickling it. He’s fully sheathed with every thrust of his cock. You squeeze down on him unknowingly. He doesn’t fight the grunt that escapes him. A loud rugged noise, laced with need. Every moan you hear from him scares you. It scares you how your pussy throbs at every noise, even the tiniest gasp. It scares you how you know he can feel it too. It scares you how close you are to cumming. That burningly delicious build up that’s just over there. Your head is slumped back, digging into the pillows. The sheets drenched in the mix of your pleasure.

“S—Satoru. Hngh!” You claw at his shoulders, tiny red lines littered across the beefy deltoids, his neck. You're properly crying now. Loud wails flowing out your opened mouth. He knows he’s hit your spot again. He doesn’t stop the moving of his lower body.

“Satoru— I don’t know. Hngh! What’s—”

“You’re cumming again. It’s ok, it’s ok. Let it happen.”

White hot, scorching pleasure fills your vision. You can’t see anything. It’s too much. Too wet. Your body goes flaccid. Arms placed on the bed in awkward positions. Head turned to the side. Your eyes rolling. Ugly stuttering breaths that shake your tits. He watches it all in awe.

“Don’t tap out now, we need an heir don’t we?”

You’re finished.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

A/n: whew. This was genuinely so filthy, I loved writing it.

I’ve been day dreaming abt this prompt for so long I had to share with you all.

© pls don’t copyright, transcribe, translate or repost this, I spent so long on this.

@toj1sleftnut <3

It’s been three dreadful years since you got this job. Same boring routine. Your alarm, panging heavily. Screeching. 05:37. An oddly specific time but nonetheless. Your front flat on the bed. Head buried in the satin pillow. An arm underneath it. Your eyes groggy, crust filled, you raise one arm above your laying body and smack the sounding thing, hard. It stops.

You need exactly twenty three minutes to yourself in the morning before you begin your day. Twenty three minutes of silence. You turn over. Back now against the ruffled sheets.

Staring at the ceiling above you. Your curtains slightly ajar, a distant car engine coming to life. The headlights, illuminating. Small patterns of light reflect onto your ceiling. Various shapes.

Lifting a hand into the air slowly, you’re tracing the patterns you see. Index finger pointed, swirling circles, rectangles. A sharp edge, you trace out. Your arm, stretching further away from you.

05:43

You glance at the alarm clock. Bright red font staring back at you. You restlessly bring your arm back down, it lands in a small plop. You close your eyes briefly, a heavy sigh leaving your lips.

You grab your phone by your bedside. Tapping the screen, 05:45. You scroll through your socials, emails and skim read your schedule on your calendar.

Minutes go by as the time finally reads 06:00. You reluctantly sit up, legs hanging off the edge of the mattress. Hands planted on either side of it, you push yourself up with a small grunt. You enter your bathroom, marble dark green tiled walls and a few small plant pots decorated the room.

A red toothbrush in a white mug next to your small sink. You brush your teeth and shower all under thirty minutes. You find a professional business-casual outfit in your closet. A yellow cashmere sweater, paired with indigo straight legged jeans and red bowl of repettos. You grab your wired headphones and your bag, keys already in hand, and head out. A soft tune playing in your ears.

You check your phone, April 5th. 06:50. The weather’s less cold today. The sun rising, a hue of golden skulked behind chalky clouds. A warm easy breeze brushing your cheeks.

Fourteen minutes.

You needed to get the train at exactly four minutes past seven in the morning.

You make it to the station with four minutes to spear. You love walking, such an easy way to get your blood flowing.

The station’s platform buzzed with restless hums of commuters. Swarmed with people. Fatigued faces, sagged shoulders. A heaviness in the air. Yet you were tuned out, bouncing quietly to the rhythm in your ear. You didn’t let the heaviness get to you. You already know you have a long day ahead of you. Can’t do anything about it.

One silver carriage after another rolls in. Tires screeching every few seconds. It halts. The doors slowly opening, a horde of people rushing out, whilst people barge past others trying to rush in, you included. It’s tightly packed. Stuffy air. Poor air conditioning. Blocked in every direction. Bags brushing against people’s backs. Bumping at every jolt of the train. The train jerks at a curve, sending you swaying. Your body failing to catch up with the sudden movement. Your body bends, face pressing up into someone’s swole chest. The train lurches again, he catches you. Beefy arms locking around your waist.

“I’m soo sorry. The train— I didn’t mean to.” You plead. Your eyes haven’t reached his yet, too embarrassed to look.

“You okay?” A deep rumble.

Baritone. Throaty.

You finally look up at him nervously, eyes widening slightly.

He’s handsome. Very handsome. Nearly a whole foot taller than you. His neck tilted downward, fully focused on you. Black hair, a messy wolf cut, almost blue in the train light, frame his eyes. They’re sharp, you notice. Grey with hints of green as they stared back into yours. Intense. Glasses framed perfectly on his nose. Black briefcase over a shoulder. A white t-shirt underneath a navy blue sweat, folded at the midpoint of his forearm, exposing angry veins following up to his massive hands. He could kill me in one punch, you think.

Dark gray slacks, your eyes trailing further down to his black oxford patent shoes.

His arm is still caged at your waist, holding you upright. Wait. You’ve seen him before. Where? At the park? Wait no. This is your coworker. What’s his name again?

T…to…Zen…

You’re trying to remember, still staring at him, unanswering.

“It’s Toji. We’re colleagues."

Ah Toji. That’s it.

“O—oh yeah. I totally remembered.” A slight forced laugh leaving you.

The train bumps again. You accidentally grab at his bicep. Meaty. Thick bicep. He’s so big you think. You’d never noticed Toji. At all actually. But he’s noticed you.

“Sorry again.” You look down, uncomfortable.

“Hold onto me yeah?” Velvety voice. He’s pulling you tighter against him. Your chest flushed against his rigid one. Fuck, how is he so big?

You give a tiny nod, eyes focused on the ground. He grunts in response. Odd. Paying no mind to it, you pull out your phone, needing any distraction. Reviewing your calendar. A full busy day, your phone reads. With it all ending by 6pm. You sigh mentally. You click a few tasks, scrolling on your phone checking the details.

‘Type up a project, send it off to your boss by the end of the day.’ Emails upon emails flooding yours. Constantly responding to them. Lunch break. The same restaurant. Same sandwich. Lettuce, cheese, chicken breast.

All the while, there’s Toji. Fighting your scent. He’s staring at the top of your head. Thoughts overpowering him. The smell of your perfume, so enticing, so inviting. Screaming in his nose. Vanilla with a hint of strawberry. He gives in and breathes you in slow. Quiet. Face nearly pressing into your head. Eyes closing. A flush of pink rushing to his cheeks. A bulge forming slightly in his trousers. Shiiit.

You’re still holding onto his bicep. It felt like the muscle was bursting out. He dwarfed you. His large body shielding, hiding you from everyone else. You couldn’t see over his shoulder even if you tried.

The train still moving, tired groans of its wheels are heard every few minutes.

-

The train slowed with a long screech. Its wheels grinding against the rails. It stops. The doors opened with a sluggish spread. People barging past each other trying to get out. You’re unfocused, not really there. Toji’s large arms guiding you out. Your chest to his front, your feet backing away. His forward. Both stumbling out. He’s holding you tight, the warmth radiating off of him. He’s so close. His musky, sandalwood perfume digging in your nose. You can’t help but inhale.

You both make it out onto the platform. Still clutched onto each other. Your eyes reach his, he’s already looking.

“Thank you Toji.” Face flushing in a deeper colour, he’s making you so shy.

His heart stutters. A small pink on the surface of his face. He swallows the lump in his throat before answering.

“‘S no problem.”

The two of you exit the station in silence. Both side by side, he’s slowing his steps matching your pace. Hands in his pockets. Grounded, confident strides of his long legs next to yours. A heavy walk. Small tilts of his hips from every step.

-

Eventually you make it to the office doors.

Both heavily greeted by your lively boss.

“Ahh! It’s nice to see you two come in together.” Strangely bubbly. Especially with how early it is in the morning. Just twenty minutes after seven. Messy glasses, hair in flying strands. A bright red cardigan with a white shirt underneath. Grey pants and black dr martens.

She reminds you of your old art teacher from college.

You give her a small smile anyway, nodding.

“Why specifically.. us two?” You ask all confused.

Your boss glances at Toji, wiggling her brows. You narrow your eyes at her, then between the two. You pause at Toji, nervously staring at him. He’s glaring at your boss. A minute of silence follows. Just eyes fighting over.

Toji quickly barges past you both, his face flushed red. You couldn’t see it though. Only noticed the growing red at the back of his neck. He reaches a hand up to cover it as he scurries away.

“Uh?”

“Alrighty!” Your boss’s sing songy voice cutting you off.

“I’ve got a bunch of stuff for you to do today. I know you can get it allll done before the end of today! Aaand I’ll reward you if you do.” Eyes beaming at yours. She’s paused in a teeth open smile. Hands clasped together. Interlocked. You don’t know why that scares you a bit, but it does.

You crack a smile again, one eye twitching.

-

Lunch time. Finally. You’ve got a headache.

You’re headed to your easy access restaurant. Reciting your order in your head.

The weather’s quite nice today. Soft kisses of a warm breeze wafting through the air land on your cheeks. It’s a two minute walk from the office.

You’ve got your sandwich in a small brown bag, you’re holding it up with two hands. It’s your favourite sandwich, so you hold it with much care. Pacing, making your way back to the office staff room.

You reach the office doors, tapping your lanyard at the speed gates. A light jog now, you’re heading down to the staff room, excited to quench your hunger.

Reaching the door to the staff room, you stretch your arm out aiming for the handle before the door opens and you meet a larger, sturdier body. Same blue sweater, same toned forearms. You look up, eyes beaming.

“Toji!” A soft smile tugging at your lips as you stare.

He grunts in response, nodding his head a little. Hands coming up to push at the bridge of his glasses. Adjusting the already neatly placed thing on his face. Needing to ground himself in your presence. You make him so nervous you don’t even know it.

He steps aside letting you in. You give him a playful wink as thanks. A rush of heat gathers at his cheeks. Fuck. You don’t know how much he likes you. You’ve just got this easiness to you. So soft. Sweet.

You enter the room, seeing a close work friend sitting at one of the tables. You settle down into a chair next to her, chatting your day away.

-

The end of your shift is approaching. You’ve never been happier. You’re sitting at your desk typing away at the keyboard.

“My lovely staff!” Your boss enters the office room in that annoyingly warm sing songy voice.

“Since you’ve all been such wonderful people, I’m rewarding you all! Office dinner!” She shrieks, her voice getting pitchier at every word. You feel a throb at your ear drums. Covering your ears with both hands you’re smiling at her anxiously. There’s one thing you still weren’t used to in all your three years of being here. Your boss’s unpredictable nature.

“An officer dinner sounds nice.”

You hear murmurs across the room, some eager, some anxious, you being one of them.

-

The long awaited office dinner. You’re seated beside your close friend, giggling at something she’s said. Can’t really register it though you’ve had a few drinks and they’re starting to take effect. You’re swaying side to side, a hearty smile etched on your face. You’re staring at your friend so lovingly. You love friendships. There’s something much deeper about friendships than anything else.

You hear another one of your colleagues talk about their sexual history. The alcohol punching it out of them. With another tipsy giggle, you lean in towards your friend, ushering her closer with a beckon of your hand. A nearly empty glass of wine in the other.

You whisper in her ear. Giggling.

“You know I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

You rise back up, staring with a drunken smile. It’s as if she’s forced into sobriety when she hears you. Face contorting into something that looks like surprise. Before she responds, she notices a certain someone. How they’ve been struggling to keep their eyes off of you. Dull green ones.

Instead, she grabs a spoon and taps in against her empty glass, a chime following. The room has her attention.

“Who wants a round of spin the bottle?” She suggests. A smirk playing on her lips.

“We’re too old for—”

“Yes! Sounds perfect.” Your boss cuts in. Her word being final.

Your boss grabs an empty beer bottle, facing it flat on the table and spins.

“Mr Zenin!” She gleams. There’s a panicked look on his face, you chuckle to yourself quietly. Seems like he’s also not used to her antics.

“Aaaand…”

Spinning the bottle again. It spins for a good 20 seconds before landing perfectly in your direction. What a coincidence.

She yells your name excitedly. And you’re stunned in your seat. Frozen. You look to your friend whispering a quick

“What do I do?”

Before you glance over at Toji’s face. He’s very red. Very red. You look slightly concerned. Brows squinted. Mouthing a

‘You ok?’

He just nods quickly. Eyes dancing around the room.

“Well?” Your boss is still giving that creepy wide smile.

“Well what..” you ask wearily.

“Well head on out to an empty room! Both of ya.” She gestures her hands to the door, and Toji’s standing up quickly. This is the quickest you’ve ever seen him move. Practically speed walking to the door, exiting first. Small snickers are heard throughout the room. You just glance over everyone, still confused but you follow along. Leaving the room.

You find Toji against a nearby wall. Hands digging in his pockets. Shifting from one foot to the other.

“Toji?” You call out. His face turned over to you. Heart beating out his chest. He’s waited for such an opportunity like this, he’s trying so hard not to fuck it up.

“..should we find a room?” His voice is so quiet. It’s as if he’s making an effort to look less intimidating than he already does. Why would you be scared though?

“Yeah.” A reassuring smile shaping on your lips.

The both of you find an empty room, far away from your main building. No person nearby. No noise. Just extreme quietness.

You feel the alcohol setting in even more now. Possibly for him too, he’s had a few shots of whisky.

Your mind drifts back to what you said a few minutes ago.

‘Never kissed anyone before’

Toji seems like an understanding person under all that scruff. He could probably give you advice. He’s attractive. Very evidently. He probably has experience. He could help you. You muster up the courage and blurt it out.

“Toji! You know I’ve never kissed anyone before… or done— you know what nevermind.” A huge wave of second hand embarrassment erupting. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. ‘What possessed you to say that’ you think. Mentally slapping yourself a good few times.

You’re looking away, all shy. Turning around full so your back is facing him now.

You hear heavy thumps, he’s slowly approaching you. Close enough to your back but giving you room to object.

“Would you like me to… teach you?” He asks you, voice deeper than it usually is.

You spin back around shocked that he’s not disgusted by your admission. A small smile forming on your lips, you look up at him and nod twice. The alcohol fully in control of you both now. Hazey eyes, shining at him. He raises a hand up to your face. Slowly. Giving you time to say otherwise. You don’t reject it. He places a thumb at your chin, rubbing softly. Your jaw too. Tilting your gaze at him. Caressing you.

Before dipping his head low, huge body caging yours. He parts his lips slightly. His grey eyes half lidded. Intensely staring into your glazed ones.

His other hand finds your face. Propping up your head in both big hands, making you look so much smaller, he always did, he steps closer. Fingers travelling up your face, a thumb at the apples of your cheek.

“Open your mouth a bit…” he whispers, his thumb lowering, glazing over your glossy bottom lip.

“Yeah jus’ like that.”

You’re staring up at him. Blinking slow. Eyes all doey.

He pushes his thumb in. Delicately. Pushing at your wet muscle. Circling. You hollow your cheeks and suck.

Slurp.

Your eyes close, shutting softly.

“Mnh.”

He removes his thumb, resting it on your bottom lip. Stares at the glistening thing. His eyes, heavy. He inches his face closer. His warm breath wafting over your face. Your mouth.

A gentle, chaste roll of his lips on yours. Slow. Open mouthed.

Chu.

Eyes closing at the feel. He pulls away just a bit. Low eyes boring into you. He’s still close enough that you’re breathing his air. You’re dazed. Panting unhurried deep breaths. Every exhale fanning his lips. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip slowly. His eyes gloss over your wet mouth.

He leans in again. Eyes closing. Pulling your lips against his. Angling closer. Noses brushing at every twist of his head. Deepening this kiss. His tongue wetting your lower lip. Asking. Pleading.

“Let me in.” Heavy pants in between kisses.

You open your mouth with a tiny moan, welcoming, enveloping his thick tongue. He’s bigger everywhere. So much bigger than you. You love it. He’s rolling his tongue against yours now, tracing the crevices of your mouth. Swallowing you. Tongues tangled. Moaning into you.

“Mmph!” Sultry groans leaving his mouth. Trapping your lower lip between his teeth. Sucking softly.

“Hn!”

You never knew kissing could be like this. Feel like this. You feel a pool of warmth settle at your lower belly. Butterflies. You push into him further. Tongues flat against each other. Sucking. Teeth clashing.

You’re grinding against each other now. His hands, wandering down your back, gripping your ass.

Your hips give an experimental thrust. An elongated roll. Holding it for an extra second. Mid kiss, you feel something rigid. Taut. Quite long too. You pull away just a little.

A gasp leaves you. You’re not too sure if it's pleasure or shock. Definitely both. You glance down at the hard thing. It looks painful, almost. Huge dent protruding at his lower clothes. A hefty thing he is. Couldn’t possibly be a normal size. You’re zoned out at the sight of him, he nudges a meaty thigh between your legs. Pulling your lower body closer to his. Veiny hands fixed at your hips. Rolling your clothed pussy against the solid muscle, he flexes.

“Unh!”

You’re moaning into his mouth. Hot breaths mixing. Eyes dilated. Fluttering.

“T—Toji!” You tried to pull away, voice trembling.

“Wanna stop?” He whispers with a shaky exhale. Low grey eyes piercing yours.

He hasn’t stopped moving you on his body. Gyrating hips in firm hands. You attempt to respond. But you whimper instead. He takes that as your answer. Entranced at how good it feels on his thigh. Throbbing pulses of your pussy every few beats. Aching. Craving more. Is this a normal thing that happens during sex? You don’t know. But you love it.

“I’m gonna pick you up okay?”

You give a few rushed nods, flushed face, parted wet lips brushing his.

Lifting you easily with one of his massive arms, he locks your legs around his toned waist. Flexed arms firm around your body. Caging you. Pulling you in so your clothed pussy’s face first against his bulge.

He’s grinding you down harder. Longer. Your clit catching at the large bump. He’s moving into you. Slow rolls of his.

“Angh!” Eyes shut. Lips caught in your teeth. They’re trembling. Poor attempts of you stifling your sounds. You hide your face into the crook of his neck.

“That good huh?” His voice all rugged. He’s feeling this as much as you. Hot breaths fanning your ear. You can’t reply.

You’re clutching at his tricep. Shoulders, his neck. A deep feeling settling in your lower belly. A build up. It's tight. Severe almost.

“You gotta say it.”

“Toj— hn! I don’t angh! Something’s—”

A few more rolls of your clothed pussy on him and you’re shuddering. Thighs shaking vigorously, eyes spinning. A silent cry leaving you. You’re cumming, hard. Nails gnawing at his shirt.

“F—fuckk!” Heavy heaves of your breath against his flushed neck.

“Breathe… breathe for me..that’s it.”

Beats pass. He helps you down from your high. You look ruined. Face stained in aftershocks of pleasure. You’re so fucking beautiful he’s barely holding on.

“I didn’t think it could be like that.” You breathlessly say. Staring at him.

“There’s still a lot more to learn…” His eyes dance around you before continuing.

“Let me take you home?”

-

Stumbling into your apartment, you’re pressed tightly against each other. Lips in a tangle of wet opened mouth kisses, your hands scratching at his back, forcing him impossibly closer to you. His face pinked in pleasure, harsh breaths strangling out airing your face.

Your apartment keys tumbling out your hands in a single swift motion, clattering against the floor. He’s all over you. Broad hands tugging at the hem of your shirt. Hoisting the thing above, now off of you. Your arms coming up with his before locking around his neck. Lace black bra on full display. His hungry gaze drifted to them, lingering. The curve of your breasts. The fullness. The way your nipples poked through the fabric. Awe didn’t begin to cover the way he ogled at your tits. The way he looked at them was deeper, almost reverent.

Obsessive.

You’ve both found the nearest wall, your sweat filled back pressing into it. Lifting ever so often with how your chest chases after him. He brings a hand to one of them, squeezing just right. Enough to cause pressure, but not enough to elicit pain from you. Can’t do that. He wouldn’t dream of it. You’re so precious to him, so perfect. Can’t ruin you just yet. He claws at your top pulling down in one swift tug. Tits spilling out in a perfect motion, as though flowers were breaking through their petals. You bloomed. He’s quick to grab hold of one of them, large hands swallowing it whole. The raw feeling now. You’re so warm. So pliable in his hands. He gives another experimental knead. Playing with you. Testing it.

Your pebbled nipple, glossing over his palm. You can’t fight the sound that leaves you. A soft mewl.

“Hnntoji!”

Back arching into it, needing more. Eyes unfocusing, you head slightly lulled back. A soft thud on the wall.

“Eyes on me.”

His free hand grips the back of your neck, pulling your face flush against his. Lips meeting in a hurried passionate kiss. Tongues entwining. Wet sounds of your lips filled the void.

“Mnnchu— Toji..I want more.”

“Yeah you want more?” He says in an almost whisper. Hot breath ghosting over your lips. You’re nodding pathetically, he can’t help but find it adorable. He snickers a bit.

“Tell me hm? Tell me sweet girl.” Eager eyes searching yours.

“I.. I need your fingers.” The words leave your lips so quietly, like a fragile thread of sound, barely audible. He catches them anyway. So focused on your every move. Watching your wet lips, a sensual glint in his eyes.

“Need to hear you baby.” He teases, a small smirk fighting his lips.

“Your fingers… ‘need them.” Your eyes snap close in shame, a silent surrender. Cheeks deepened in colour, prominent. Lips quivering in small unnoticed waves.

“Yeah? Where d’ya want me?” Another taunt.

“..Inside.” You hesitate. An eye peeking open at him. Waiting. Hoping he doesn’t tease you some more.

“Hnnfuck yeah ya do.” With a groan, he brings his hands further down your body. Hurried tugs of your jeans and you’re left in your underpants only. Matching black with your bra, beautiful lace patterns on the top. His greedy eyes peer down at them. Sucking in a slow breath, his fingers tremble over them. As if he’s too scared to go any further. He’s not scared though. Far from it. He trails his index and middle down your shuddering stomach, passing your belly button, down to the top of your panties. Slowly hooking them into it, he’s dragging it down, past your sweaty thighs until it falls on its own.

A hand by the bottom of your thighs, he’s trailing it up, brushing against it. You’re waiting with a bated breath. Finally reaching your mound. Softly trimmed hairs sweep against his rigid fingers. He bites back a groan. You’re just there, eyes blown, helplessly waiting for him to keep going.

He has to fight his eyes away from your pussy.

“Gonna show me where your room is?” Haggard voice. So clearly affected by you.

“Y—yeah.”

He hauls you up into him, bulging biceps, your legs wrapped around his trimmed waist, arms around his neck, your face buried into it. Heavy thuds on the ground, he’s walking slowly. Almost too slow. Certain, assured that he’s going to have you. No arguments. Just measured steps as you lift your face off of him just a tad, timidly pointing to where your room is. He gives a small pat on your ass as thanks. It ripples under his massive hand.

Toji finds your bed, lowers you onto it so delicately as if you were something so fragile. His knees digging into the sheets. Shoes off. Still fully clothed while you lay bare for him. Large hands cradling your face, stroking softly. The look he’s giving you, so loving. Blushing cheeks, slightly ajar mouth. Hot puffs of air leaving every exhale. You’re giving him an equal stare. Dazed. Scared almost. Needy. His knuckles, brushing your heated cheeks. He felt the warmth. Knows how much you want this, just as bad as he does.

He’s leisurely taking his time with you. Running his hands from your cheeks to your neck. He lingers there. Giving you a soft squeeze, testing your limits. You don’t fight back. Can’t fight back.

The orgasm you had earlier, still fogging your brain. His thumb brushes the front of your neck before he continues down. To the valley between your breasts, your belly, to your lower belly. He points an index below your belly button still touching your soft skin.

“Gonna be in there soon.” He whispers. His voice, so quiet it sounds like awe. You just stare at him, a bit confused. Head tilting a little. Slightly squinted brows. Then your eyes follow down to where his finger touches you. Blinking softly. He chuckles at your unfocused gaze. You don’t understand. Not yet.

He continues drifting his fingers down, meeting your hairs. Your hips stutter only just a bit. He marvels at the movement. So sensitive. He brings his other hand down, pushing your thighs away from each other. Revealing a soaked you. Glistening pussy on display, your clit fairly protruding out, throbbing under his devoted eyes.

“Fuck me..” He murmurs. Breath hitching at the sight of you, all wet, all for him. You try to hide from him. Head turning to the side, digging into your pillow, face tucked into your elbows. You can’t see him now. He doesn’t mind.

Toji lowers his face, lining his mouth to your pussy. Deep heavy breaths escaping his lips, fanning your clit.

“Angh!” You jolt your hips. Pressing your face closer into your elbow. He darts his low eyes at your hidden face. Blows a cold, long breath on your clit.

“Hnn!” You’re mewling, voice muffled in your arms.

“Can you look at me..please.”

You don’t want to. Too shy, too embarrassed to let him see you like this. It was all fun and games before. But it’s becoming too real. He blows at your clit once more. A tremor running through you, your lower body mainly. Small involuntary movements. You move an arm just above your eyes, you can see him a bit. He can see you too. The dilation of your eyes, the fuzzy look of it. The heaving of your chest, just enough that your tits bounce every inhale. It’s all too much for him. He shouldn’t have asked.

Once your eyes are on his, he moves. Closer now. Just a hair away from your weeping pussy. He juts a wet tongue out, pushing past his lips. Slowly, ever so slowly, curling the muscle against your clit. The moment you feel it, you whine. Teeth pulling at your lower lip. Not over his clothes, not over your clothes. His tongue. The raw thing.

He gives another slow curl, this time staring lower. Near your opening. Sliding upwards, meeting your clit before blowing. Cold. Shuddering, you try to close your thighs, locking his head in place. He’s quicker. Grabbing below your thighs, hiking them up on his broad wide shoulders.

“You’re okay. Hm?” He assures you before continuing.

He’s way stronger than you, you couldn’t fight back if you tried. He dives in again, sucking hard all of a sudden.

Slurrrp

Your heads lulled back, the front of your neck on full display. Holding in whines, that barely leave your lips. Arms still above you.

He brings his mouth off of your clit and blows again. Another wave of cold air gliding on your pussy.

“Fuck!” You moan out. Loud. You bring an arm down, your hand finding his hair, tugging him into you. He lets you. Forcing his face into your pussy.

Sucking, slurping. Full French kisses on your pussy. Tongue jutting out before sliding between your slit, not entering you yet, just parting you. It slides from the entrance of your hole up to your clit. He waits there, sucking the aching muscle into his mouth. Hollow pink cheeks. His eyes closed in pleasure. Admiration. His crush, letting him eat her out. He’s dreamed of this.

He teases his tongue, gliding lower, circling back up to your clit then lower again. You’re shaking violently, eyes tight shut, mouth hanging open. The sounds you tried so hard to fight back leaving you so easily now.

His tongue circles your hole. Pushing in slowly.

“Toji!” You mewl out to him. He knows you’re getting close.

He hums into you. You cry out. Back lifting. He removes his wet mouth again, an inch of distance from him and your pussy. He blows. A familiar coldness on your clit. Quivering hips, bucking into the coolness. Chasing that feeling. You’re crying now. Tears rolling down your cheeks, staining the sheets.

An abrupt orgasm ripping through you, a fast build up pooling at your stomach that you couldn’t realise quickly.

You’re shaking so much now, whining so much, thighs jutting beside him. Your chest heaving vigorously, tits swaying. He doesn’t stop.

Tongue plunging back in. Bringing a rough thumb to your clit. Circling it. You attempt to run away. Hips bucking the opposite direction. He uses his free hand and grounds you. Digging you into him, the bed. You can barely move. Just violent trembles as he eats your pussy.

“Insi— hngh!”

He fucks his way inside your pussy. Tongue delving in, whilst keeping harsh circles of his thumb on your clit. Fuck it’s all too much for you. No one’s ever done this before. He’s gonna ruin anyone else for you.

Shlck shlck

Wet noises of your pussy filling the room. He’s groaning into you. Deep baritone noises buried in your cunt. Your arms are everywhere now. Gripping the sheets below, your pillow above.

“Toooo much! Ugh!” Moaning loud. Your face twisting, burying the noises into your pillow.

He’s locked you in place. Moving is so much harder now. Meaty biceps flexing at every thrum of your clit. Your juices, his saliva drooling out the corners of his lips. He’s so into it. Engrossed. Eyes still closed, just feeling you. He’s overwhelming you. Pushing your body past limits you didn’t know you had.

You’re nearly there again. But it’s slightly different this time? It feels warmer. Wetter almost? You can’t really tell but you know it’s different.

“Toji! I think— hck! It’s ouuhhfuck!” Your voice pitches higher and higher, need tightening it, edged with a hint of fear.

He doesn’t stop. Still tongue fucking your pussy, pushing as deep as it can go. Thumb circling against your clit, harder, faster. It’s all too much. Your back’s arched in a gracious bow, hips lifted, legs falling on and off his shoulders. Tears clogging your vision. You can’t see him. The build up coiling so perfectly you can’t hold it in.

It’s everywhere, your juices spraying out, covering his face. Pink cheeks stained in wetness. His glasses, fully fogged now wet.

“That’s it baby, let go f’r me.. mhmm soo good f’r me.” Thumb under your clit, pushing it higher, letting more of your juices out. He’s kissing your shakes thighs, wet open-mouthed. Sucking slightly. Trailing the kissing up to your knees, while humming praises at you.

Your wailing, sobbing. Breathing turns uneven, your chest stuttering at every tremble. Tits following along.

He sits up on his knees, bringing a wet hand removing his stained glasses, to the hem of his shirt, lifting it in one quick tug. Then his t-shirt underneath. Unbuttoning. Top to bottom. His low eyes still fixed on your quivering state. You roll your tired head upright, facing him. Watching. Chest falling softer now.

Sculpted, taut contours of his abdomen come into view, hard, rock-like muscles that look engraved. The t-shirt falls past his arms, beefy veiny biceps, strong forearms flexing as he removes it fully. You’re in awe. You knew Toji was strong but nothing like this. Sharp deep lines of his abdomen, the ease of his movements. You can’t take your eyes off.

He lowers his hands to his belt, unraveling the thing easily. He steps off of your bed for a second. Your eyes follow him. He’s dragging his slacks down. Two hard tugs and it pools at his ankles, he steps out of it.

You see the meaty indent of his boxers. Bulging, thick muscle fighting against the fabric, pushing at it. It’s so big. Much bigger than you thought. It throbs under your stare.

He’s put you under a spell. You see his hands come to the top of his boxers, his thumb hooking under, disappearing into his boxers. Your gasp goes unnoticed. Lips parted, eagerly waiting to see the rest of him. His thumb pulls down, fully exposing himself. You finally see it. Angry reddish tip, nearly purple, beady clear drops of precum leaking through, falling from the head nearing the base. Thick, girthy, too long. Distended veins running up the sides, a prominent one running up the top of his shaft. Heavy hanging balls, darker than the rest of him. It’s fucking huge. Full eight inches of raw cock. Your eyes almost pop out. Fully in disbelief of that fitting inside. It can’t possibly fit.

He hauls the boxer until it falls to his feet, steps out of it and onto the bed again. Knees digging back into the sheets. A weighted dent on the bed. Pure muscle. You haven’t stopped staring at it, nearly drooling, he’s eating up your reaction. Chuckling. Body vibrating at the rumble. You’re still in a daze, he’s gripping your hips, both hands, pulling you closer so your thighs rest atop his. Feet hanging off the side. He grabs the weapon in between his legs. Gives a few slow pumps of his fist. Squeezing at the tip, moaning low. You throb at the sound, shifting a little. Fingers tightly grasping the sheets below.

He lowers it, lining it with your clit, rubbing around it, circling it. Realll slow. Pushing into it, past it til the tips catches your hairs. He grunts at the feel. Heavy breath puffing out his nose. Brows knitted. You hiccup a broken moan. Lips parted. Wet.

He rubs it further into your hairs again, biting his lower lip before bringing it to your sopping hole. Both sodden. Hot.

A slow push of his hips, he’s entering. The tip stretching your virgin hole. He halts. The pressure, too fucking tight. He’ll work you open. Has to. He retracts his hips, turns you over so your back is against his chest. You're both laying on your side. It feels too intimate this way. He’s hugging your body so close to his. Spooning you. Not letting you go. A hand wrapped around your waist. The other, fondling your tits.

“Gonna take you this way.” His voice rumbles in your ear, he gives a steady long stripe of his tongue against it. A throaty groan leaving him. You wiggle on him, whining. Your ass bumping his cock every few turns.

He reaches a hand down to his cock, bringing it to your hole once again. Pushing in heavily. Tip nudging further. A few inches getting in. A quarter way. He brings his free arm up, covering your neck, your teeth gnawing at his swollen bicep, his forearm. Tears springing at the edges of your eyes. Wetting your lashes again.

“Hnngh!” You whinge out. Inaudible words pouring out.

“I know baby, I know.. I know it’s too big.” He encourages you, voice rough, laced in pleasure.

Another few inches forcing their way in.

“Toji! F—fuck!”

“Shh. I’ve got you.” He reassures.

He’s easing in slow. A couple more now. Your pussy sucking him in so well. Soo good. He’s nearly at the base. He abruptly stops. The wet heat of your cunt trapping him in place. Clinging onto him. He might cum if you move. He digs his face into your hair, breathing in deep, eyes fluttering. An unhurried push of his hips and he’s all in. Burly inches of his cock stretching you so deep. Your eyes are rolled back from the feel.

It’s not that it hurts. It did. But it was that uncomfortable stretch. The fullness of his cock edging deeper. An unfamiliar feeling yet, you felt completely whole.

Fully sheathed inside you. You feel it throbbing, every rigid vein, every pulse. Pressing at your cervix.

“Fuck, ‘got a deep cunt— nghhfuck.”

“Toji.. please— something! Do something!” You cry into his elbow. Voice muffled. It hurts a bit but the little throbs of his cock hitting places you’ve never reached before. Never felt before. And he’s soo deep. Way too deep.

With a husky groan, he retreats his hips back and steadily rocks into you. Long, deep strokes thumping at your cervix. Balls thumping, his strong hips flush against your ass. Rippling with every thrust. The tip of his stiff cock, gliding through you, bumping your g-spot. You feel it once. Twice. Then you're smacking at his hip, arm reaching behind you. Pleading with him to let you go. It’s too good. You can’t take it.

“Ffuck off. Hnn!” Moaning, fussing into his flexed bicep. Wet eyes. You’re urging your shaky hips away. Scrambling forward, desperate.

“You want me to fuck off?” He sneers back at you. Laughing into the spot behind your ear. Breath fanning it.

“N—no. I don’t knoww.” You keen, sniffling. Tears pouring down his forearm.

“You don’t know.” He’s snickering.

His pace quickens. Deep fast strokes, you feel it in your throat. Your gaze turns unfocused, eyes forced back. Your nose buried in his arm, hot breaths leaving your soppy lips. You’re kissing his arm. Biting. Marking him. Grounding yourself as he plummets your insides. Turning you to a putty mess. You’re gone. So far gone. He’s snaking a hand up, pinching your nipples, rolling the buds in his fingers. You’re wailing loud. Juddering.

A familiar torrid ache forming at your lower belly.

“O—oh my godhnn!” It doesn’t even settle in your belly. Wrenching out of you intensely. So incredibly. You couldn’t hold it in even if you tried. Too sensitive.

“Yeah? ‘You cumming again?” Teasing you. Low voice gone breathy.

“Nghh!” With a groan, you’re coming down. Tits bouncing, your body so very warm. He’s helping you through it. Slower strokes. Still bumping your spot. You whimper.

“Nghstopp!” Crying out, begging. A hand clutching at his, scratching. The other, clasping at the wet sheets. Smudged with the mixture of sweat and cum.

He doesn’t stop. Instead, he hauls his burly body, shifting his weight so he’s fully on top of you. His face, closer to you. Near your left ear. You’re crushed underneath him. Belly flat on the bed. He’s locking an arm around your neck once again, bringing the hand on that arm to your face, covering it. You can’t move, at all. He’s clamped your lower body in place. His other arm, steady beside you. Contorted. Tensed. His veins are more prominent like this.

Wet lashes brushing your cheeks, your mouth now muffled in his larger hand.

“Mhhhhn!” You try to kick your legs, but it can only fold at the knee. You can’t move your thighs. Can’t part your legs. His hefty body won’t allow you.

He does a lengthy grind into you. His happy trail flushed at your ass. He hasn’t pulled out the entire time, not giving you an ounce of space.

He keeps at it. Deep grinds, his tip knocking at your cervix. Pressed so heavy against it. Stretching you impossibly further.

Haggard breaths, uneven moans brush at your ear. He’s getting closer now. Hips stuttering in broken circles.

You’re completely out of it. Dumbed. Fully. Can’t think of anything but the feel of his cock so far deep in your pussy. The veins. The bumps. And god you’re so sensitive. Another quickening build up of warmth steadily rising in your stomach.

“Fuckfuckfuck—”

Another few irregular rolls of his hips and he’s cumming. White thick hot beads of cum discharging into you. He won’t stop moving. Pushing it as deep as it can go, making sure you don’t spill a drop.

You’re numb. Body limp under him. Arms flat at your sides. Eyes fully rolled back, coarse hot air puffing past your lips.

He’s grunting atop of you. Moaning low, still feeling the white hot pleasure of his cum, your pussy. Especially your pussy.

He brings an arm up, rough hands palming, rubbing your back in slow gentle movements.

“From now on, just let me teach you everything, yeah?”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

A/n: lawdfddd I need him so bad bruh

@toj1sleftnut <33

Don’t transcribe or translate into anything else. Thank ya <3

Grey dull skies. An enmity of snowy clouds. Barely audible patters of snow smear the concrete. Frost fragments fracturing the roads. Small cracks. An icy cast. Slippery. Polished by the freezing air, reflecting a cold blue-grey.

The town is quiet. People retiring to their homes. A combination of flats and houses. Bricked. Semidetached. All lifeless and ashen now painted in snow.

It’s December. The cold’s really taking root. You’re in a small cabin just a few yards away from the main road. Dark wood, white stained trees looming around, making it seem like you're buried deep into a forest. Luckily, you live close by to the nearest town centre. English weather was never really nice.

You’re in your kitchen. Pastel yellow coloured walls, adorned in small beautiful plant paints. Pictures of flowers you’ve taken over the years. Paintings you’ve bought. Small counter top, bluey-grey marble board at the surface with white coloured sides. You’re wearing your white turtle neck paired with a long black silken skirt and black Mary Jane flats. All covered by a long black trench coat. The week’s coming to a close. You’re running out of ingredients.

Black pen in hand tapping slowly at your bottom lip, a small note in the other.

Meats, vegetables, fruits, water bottles, go to pharmacy.

You’re missing something. Eyes squinting in annoyance. Brain raking, it’s bothering you. You’re getting lost in the walls around you, trying to figure out what this thing is. You repeat the list again.

Meats. Vegetables. Fruits. Water bottles. Pharmacy.

Ah.

Suppressants.

You rolled your eyes scoffing at yourself. You’ve been a bit forgetful lately. Waiting until your suppressants are nearly out. You’re checking your cupboard. One..two pills left you count. You sigh.

“Tomorrow.” You say aloud.

You’re used to this little life you’ve created. Weekly shopping, Sunday cleaning. Wake up 5am. Earphones in. Jog, eat, shower, work, repeat.

Like clock work, you’re awake. Still black out. Alarm panging, dead on five. Screeching in your ears.

You’re laying in your long sleeve bunny pyjamas belly flat on the bed, head turned, pressed into your pillows. Brows screwed, eyes squinting, sleep lines etched on your face. Crust stuck at the corners of your eyes. Your nose crinkling in annoyance. Sniffing. You bring up your right elbow from its disfigured but comfortable position and smack it down on your alarm clock sitting on the bedside table.

Groaning, you rise slowly. Stretching your back, tiptoeing, arms up high now folding behind you. Heading to the bathroom, you’re splashing cold water on your face. A slow deep breath. Arms steady, hands holding either side of the sink. You meet a tired you in the mirror. Opening it, you reach for your scent repellent. Just two sprays. Now you’re ready for your day.

Shutting the front door behind you, earphones in, you stretch a bit. Left arm swinging, right arm under it. You do it the other way. Back bent downwards, legs straightened, arms elongated, touching your toes, the ground almost. With a gradual rise and a long exhale, you’re on your way. Unhurried, lazy runners pace. You maintain that for a lap around your cabin. Then you’re headed to the main road. ‘Nettles’ by Ethel Cain playing softly in your ears. Low melodious. Pace still measured, arms shifting each step. You’re a few metres in, flats, houses forming in your peripheral. A corner shop open. Bright. Vivid.

You could use a drink.

You head down further into town, body directed at the shop. Eventually meeting the door of the shop, your body slightly adjusted to the frozen air. A ring of the bell is heard as you enter. The male shop keeper notices you, his face resting in one of his hands, eyes heavy. Sagging. A purple brownish colour engraved below them. His head falling and quickly rising. His eyes lighten fairly upon seeing you. Waving sluggishly at you. You give a soft smile and wave back.

Heading to the drink section, you grab a five hundred millilitre bottle of water from the fridge and walk up to the till. Placing your bottle down on the counter, you pay shortly after.

“Have a nice day.” You say. Short, soft, concise.

“And you too.”

-

The sun had already risen. A pale whitish sphere, faintly piercing through. 9am, the clock read. You were in your home, had already showered, eaten. Although your fridge was practically begging to be full. Only a couple red peppers remained. ‘More shops will probably be open.’ You thought.

You were out the cabin, car keys in hand on your way back to the town centre. A small, red Mini Cooper sitting slumped in heavy snow just outside. You open the drivers side, snow falling off that side of the car, and sit down. Plugging your keys into the vehicle, wind shields wiping away at the snow covered front window. You drive steadily into town.

Meats, vegetables, fruits, water bottles, pharmacy — must go!!

A vivid image of the note you made flashed. It repeated in your head, chanting almost.

First stop, the supermarket.

-

A cold quiet morning. Harsh crispy air brushing against your cheek. Your eyes crinkle at the feel of it. You’ve parked your car in a nearby parking garage.

Not so often you see the supermarket this silent. You’re dressed warmly in a loose white shirt underneath a grey jumper. Straight legged dark blue jeans covering your black uggs. All hidden under your black trench coat.

Boots crunching in the snow, you’re walking in. Automatic doors sliding open for you. You grab a basket and begin your search.

-

Heavy bags weighing down at your sides. Full of fresh ingredients, meats.

Meats, vegetables, fruits, water bottles, pharmacy.

“Alright.” You whisper, cold air passing through your lips, pleased with your small achievement of the morning.

Second stop, small shop.

You enter the shop, a bell sounding as you do so. There’s a few people in the shop. About four if you bothered to look. You pay no mind though. Just solely focused on one task at hand. That task being water bottles. You’re pacing around the shop, eyes raking up and down the shelves. The bottles. Finally. Placed on the grey marble ground, in front of a transparent fridge directly reflecting the shop door. A free mirror, you think. You crouch down, hands out and ready to grab one pack. For a reason you couldn’t explain, your eyes glance up to the fridge, unfocusing, you see a few people walking by, their figure cutting out where the fridge ends. Still looking around, you see the trees, how they’re no longer green but white. The no longer brown wood, eyes trailing down the trees back to the public. Eyes- you notice deep hazel eyes staring as if staring at your open skeleton itself. Fixed on yours. You let the thought of the transparent fridge fool you into believing no one could see you. A coincidence.

Shrugging, you pick up either end of the pack of water bottles and stand to your full height. Out of curiosity, you eye the see-through shop door.

Khaki coloured eyes. Closer now. Black jacket. Hooded up. A man that seems to be in a balaclava?

He’s huge, you ponder. Biceps nearly bursted at the sides of his black coat. His lower half is covered by bushes. Your face contorts into a puzzled look. There’s no way he saw you. You don’t want to believe it. Looking away you head over to the till and pay.

Exiting the shop, hefty bags carrying all your shopping, a litter of bumps gather on your skin. You want to believe it’s from the cold. A low lump sitting at your belly. A warning maybe.

You head over to the last stop on the list. The pharmacy. Suppressants. Your brain reminding you once again.

It’s a cramped place. Medicine stacked on the dark wooden shelves across the room. Chalky walls. Ashen almost. The lights flicker a bit. Must be old. There’s a man at the other side of the till. Got a gloomy look to him. Thin glasses hanging at the top of his bridged nose. Crinkled skin. A small bruise on the side of his cheek. Eyes droopy.

“Can I help you?” You hear his tired voice ask.

You give a small smile.

“I’m here for a replenishment.” You keep your eyes on his, still smiling as you readjust a bag on your arm.

“Your name please.” He responds dryly. Your face falters a bit.

You give him your name. He types away at the old white desktop on his right. He reaches over to a small brown plastic bag and hands it to you.

You hear a smile chime of the pharmacy bell but don’t pay too much mind to it. There’s heavy thuds behind you. A hefty musky smell, woody almost with a hint of an orange peel. A citrusy smell meant something. A near heat or rut possibly. A familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. Fear? It's only footsteps, probably getting their suppressants. You’re still focused on the man in front-

“Have I seen you ‘round here before?” A deep baritone voice sounding behind you. Close to you. You spin around, eyes all wide at the sound of him. The pharmacist immediately drops into a crouched position. He knows that voice. Can’t let this customer see him.

“Uh—uh…” You stutter. Lip quivering.

You know him. Know exactly who this is. Simon Riley. Or what the town calls him, ‘Ghost’.

The whole town knows of him. They know to steer clear of him. Never get in his way. Avoid him if you can. Don’t let him get you. A menace. Killer. All sorts of nasty comments you haven’t heard before. He’s got a familiar balaclava on. Almost looking like the one you saw earlier. Squinting eyes staring deep into your wide ones. Head tilted slightly, amused by your reaction. You can’t tell though.

“Can’t talk?”

“Uhm no—no. No you uh haven’t.” You’re shaking your head looking everywhere else but at him. There’s a thin line of sweat forming at your forehead. You try not to wipe it.

His broad frame, blocking everything in front of you. You finally look up at him, eyes all doey, scared.

“Hm.” He grunts, gives you a slow look over. Eyes falling slowly down your frame then back up to your nervous face. Cute.

He turns back around and exits the pharmacy. You heave a sigh of relief. Ghost? Talking to you? You nearly don’t believe it. Not until the pharmacist behind you speaks.

“H—here. Please leave. Quickly.”

Weight bags on either side of you, you’re walking over to your parked car. The cold air, still lingering. You’re heart patters in your chest. Simon Riley. Absolutely no way.

You make it to your car, fiddling with your bags arms scurrying deep in each one to find the key. You hear it unlock and you’re carefully placing the bags at the back seat, then heading quickly into the front. Door slamming shut. Locked. Both hands on the wheel. Knuckles losing then regaining colour.. You’re brain still lagging. You look around yourself, assessing the area. You see him. Again. Your breath stutters when you notice him. He’s staring deep at you. He’s to your right, body slightly hidden by a tall bush. You’re tapped in place, body hypnotised, regulating. Registering something deep. Pooling low. A small warmth. There’s no way. Your body recognises him as compatible. You have his full attention.

Your breath’s still stuck in your throat.

“Simon.” You breathe out finally. It’s almost as if he heard you because he’s walking now. Quick measured steps toward you. You’re shaking. Yet you can’t move. Hands still plastered at the wheel. He’s nearer. Walks over to the passenger's seat window. One two firm taps at the window. Eyes still fixed on him. He never left yours. Your body responds before your mouth can. A needy smell illuminates you. Lemony. Citrusy. Your eyes are fully dilated. The omega in you keening. Inviting. You want him. Your brain hasn’t caught up yet. His scent now etched in your body. You didn’t even realise he had been warming you up to his smell this whole time.

A whisper of a faint musky orange peel surfaced your brain. It was when the autumn air still lingered. That citrusy smell you couldn’t get enough of. You’d perch over your opened windows, eyes all closed as you relished the smell. He was scenting your home and you didn’t know. You recall hearing small cracks of sticks but it could’ve been anything. Except it was Simon.

Your right arm moves to open the passenger door. He opens it and sits his burly body inside your car, shutting the door as he does so.

You’re still looking at him, mouth parted slightly. You can’t understand why your body is reacting this way. He’s still staring. Eyes heavy, low. You don’t know what it is but you start the car, engine roaring quietly. You’re driving home now. A hidden command from him. Your omega wants him in your space. Wants him to invade your things. Invade you. Is it your heat? That’s not until a couple— days. You wanted to think weeks. But your body has found a compatible mate. It just so happens to be the worst person you can think of.

You park in your entry, turn off the engine and slowly look to your left. Eyes hazy, breathing hesitant. A whine stopping at your throat. Trapped in your esophagus. He knows you want to. Doesn’t need to ask you.

You’re both stumbling into your cabin, his tongue deep in your mouth. Balaclava bunched on his crooked nose.

He’s ripping your coat off your body. Biceps contracting. Your black trench falls carelessly on your floors. Green veins running up his large hands holding the back of your neck, your waist. One of his hands drifting down, gripping your arse. Groaning into your mouth. Spit mixed. Your odours intertwine. A ripe lemon and orange peel staining the air.

You're whining. Teeth clashing. He’s biting at your bottom lip. Strong arms wrapping you. Engulfing your body.

“Been watching you for weeks.” His voice came out heavy, breathy.

You can’t respond with anything other than a mewl. Your hands haven’t left the fabric at his chest. You’re clutching at him. Body all needy. The warmth at your lower belly blooming into a vicious heat. White hot pleasure taking hold of you. Body seizing up. You're stunned. Eyes all wide and wet. Breath coming in fat heaves.

“Si—” You whimper out. Knees bending. Betraying you. Submission. He sees your body submitting to him before you can even voice it. You really want to. Badly.

Beefy arms pull you up and into him. Your legs hanging off his forearm, head lulled out, falling backwards.

He knows where your room is. Knows where everything in your home is. He knows exactly where you keep your suppressants, your diary. He’s read it all. You’ve never heard anyone enter your home at night. Yet he’s always there. Watching you sleep. He admires how your tits puff out when you breathe in, how you drool a bit. A few snores. Fucking obsessed with your body. The fat of your thighs. His alpha knew you were his.

You’re trembling, snivelling into his chest. He sets you down on your bedsheets, body going slump. He stands to his full height, pulling down his balaclava back over the rest of his face and just watches. Hidden again.

He’s slow to take his jacket off. Pulling the zip down in a long stroke. Shoves it off his body.

“I need nghh~” You’re moaning out, hands attempting to take your top off. Too weak. There’s a little drool spilling at the side of your mouth.

He doesn’t bother to take the rest of his clothes off. He’s come too far in this to focus on himself.

“Shh.” Your body, listening immediately.

He hauls your top off for you, now left in just a black lace. Sweat glistening on your chest. Beads rolling down.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” He curses low.

His arms circle your body, taking the lace off. Tits spilling out, the air wafting over your hardened nipples. You sob. Body clutching in on itself. He doesn’t let you. His large hand, pushing you down at your shoulder.

“No movin’.” A warning.

Your arms are flat on the bed, hands resting above you, fisting the pillow. He removes your lower clothing in one strong pull. Your hips lifting instinctively. Your insatiable need to please your mate.

Panties gone. You're vulnerable before him. Hairs decorated around your wet pussy. Weeping. Leaking. A bead of slick sliding down from your hole onto your arse. Hips twitching.

Your body’s flushed, waiting. He’s being too slow. He has to savour this moment.

“Please.” You whimper out.

“A talkative bird ain’t ya.” He voices, still low toned.

“Gotta please this pussy, don’t I?” Taunting you. Letting out a low, mocking whistle.

He’s got his knees pressed into your bed, hands on your inner thighs, pressing into them. Your pussy parting each time. A tear slips out of you. Your head’s thrown back into the pillow. Lips tightly pressed, suppressing the moan trapped at your throat. Eyes shut tight.

He presses in once more, and you can’t help the noise that left you. You bring down one of your arms, scratching at his, trying to bring it where you need it most.

“Want me there, hm?

My fingers in your cunt?”

You’re vigorously nodding. A string of ‘please’s leaving your wet, kissed stained mouth. He doesn’t remove your hand. Doesn’t need to. You can’t move someone as big as him.

You still can’t see his face fully. Only his eyes. But you know he’s smiling at you. You make out a small dent under the balaclava. His alpha pleased at your omega. You want to see more of him. But your heat won’t let you form the sentence.

He doesn’t care though. He’s going to take you.

He brings his rugged thumb, circles it on your throbbing puffy clit.

“Angh!”

Your hips twitch towards him. More beads of slick fall out your drenched pussy. A few more tears rolling down your face. The heat nearly consuming you.

His thumb moving slowly up and down your clit, inching towards your gaping hole. Your hips follow on instinct. Rolling with his hand.

“Fuck sakes.” You’re a sight. His tip leaking heavy drops of pre.

His thumb finds your soaked hole, another bead leaking out coating it. He pushes in slow and deep. Long thick thumb stretching you out.

You scream. Back bowing. Toes curled into the sheets, fingers still scratching at his arms. Your head is lulled to the side, the whites of your eyes on display.

He’s thumbing your hole. Quick deep strokes of his thumb.

Squelch squelch.

“She’s a loud twat, ain’t she?” Voice rugged.

You’re moaning loud, your heat making it feel way better than it’s supposed to.

Fuck you’re close. Body heating up even more, twitching, writhing. Leaving moon shaped dents on his forearms.

“You markin’ me already?” He’s cackling low.

“Ngh c—close!”

“I know.” You pussy throbs.

His voice has such an intense effect on you. He’s been scenting your clothes so you get used to his smell. Needs your body reacting before you do.

One…two..three pumps of his thumb and your convulsing. Body quaking. Mouth hung open in a beautiful ‘o’ shape, brows squinted. You silently cry out letting your orgasm wash over you. Long waves of heat spread over your body.

“Need you.” Voice all gone, yet you managed to whisper out.

“You’ll have me.”

He slowly pulls his thumb out and stares at it in awe, glistening in your cum. You’ve marked him as yours, now he has to return the favour.

Not giving you any time to recover, he plunges two thick long fingers deep into your pussy. You let out a shocked scream. Hips jerking at the sudden stretch. He leans his body into yours as he pushes his fingers as far as they could go. He’s close to you now. Face just a few inches from yours. You're breathing out hefty breaths, fanning his hidden face. Eyes fully dilated.

“Got a deeep cunt on ya.” He praises. You moan in response. Your arms feel heavy, your trembling fingers attempting to hook the edges of his balaclava and pull down. It comes off revealing messy blonde locks. The two of you reach forward, lips meeting in a sloppy kiss. Mouths open, breathing heavy. Tongues rolling against each other. He’s pistoning his fingers fast. Quick deep strokes making it hard for you to kiss him back. It’s too messy.

He’s grunting into you, you’re whining into him. One hand gripping the hairs at his nape. The other gripping the hairs at the middle of his head. You're rolling your hips into his hand. His thumb bumping your clit every stroke. He’s fucking at your g spot, fingers curling, scissoring your pussy. You break the kiss with a loud moan.

“C—can’t take it! Simon—”

“You will. Didn’t wait this long for you to tap out.” He sounds so rough.

“Anhh! Hngh.”

Another few scissors of your pussy and you’re sooo close again. You’re whinging, body twisting, turning away. You want to run. Want to scream at him. Fight him.

You’re smacking at his chest, he’s still too close watching your face so intently. He needs to see what makes it contort. He likes that you fight back. Makes him harder. He’s straining at his boxers. Cock twitching, itching to be inside your needy cunt. He knows you need his knot.

You're slapping his shoulders, hands balled up in fists, punching at him. He curls his fingers just right and you’re screaming. White blinding pleasure. You’re clutching at him now. He’s fucking his fingers at that exact spot. Engrossed in the way your brows contorted, the way your cheeks deepen in colour. How your wet lashes stick to the top of your cheeks.

“F—fuck fhuck!” Your orgasm, ripping through you.

Your arse pressed deep into the sheets, back arched, pussy gushing out ruining his hand. Arms flailing.

Squelch

His hand sliding out slowly from your bruised pussy. Admiring your work on his fingers. Shining wet. He sees your pussy lips flutter in the corner of his eyes.

“You’re something else.”

He brings his stained fingers to his mouth, sucking them deep, relishing the taste. Groaning deep. Eyes fluttering shut.

“Knot. Y—your knot please.” You cry out. Head still planted to the side. Arms wobbly, you reach out to his dark grey joggers. Fingers tugging at the top of it. His happy trail peeking out. He helps his dick out of his joggers, his boxers next, not taking them off fully. It’s so big. Thick veins running up a few sides, dark red at the tip. Angry. Purple almost. So girthy. Leaking so much pre. He’s so wet for you.

Your omega hungry at the sight. The orangey peel stench, very prominent now.

“Gonna fuck you now. Knot you.”

“Please.”

He lines his fat cock at the opening of your cunt. Rubs it slowly up and down your clit. You’re hips jutting, bucking away from him.

The tip pops into you in a slow, deep stroke. He stalls for a moment. Hot pulsing pussy pulling him in.

“Fuck—”

He pushes further in. Still slow. You feel every vein on his cock, every curve. Every inch, stretching your walls out. Your mouth, watering at the fullness.

You push at his lower hard stomach, a few hairs tickling your fingers. He’s fucking huge. You can’t take it all at once. You’re weeping, tears spilling at the sides of your face, tits puffed out.

“M’gonna make you take it bunny.”

He hikes your thighs on top of his, pushes himself further into you, digging your knees into your chest. He sinks in another few inches. Your squinted eyes peer down at where you’re both connected, there’s still so much more. Your head falls back as you sniffle, a tiny noise leaving your lips.

He pulls his hips back all of a sudden, you gasp at the loss. Your head comes up quickly. Watching.

“Noo. Simon, fuck—”

Slamming his cock deep, hips grinding into yours. A bulge forming at your lower belly. Your head collapsing back onto the pillow, brain fogged. Your eyes forced back, body quivering. Quick heaves of your chest, your mouth left hung open, more drool spilling out.

Plap plap

He’s fucking you so deep. Big burly body rocking into you, your pussy sucking him in so tight. So wet. So hot. The room’s filled with the mix of your bodies, your sweat, the smell of your pheromones. Blooming. Inviting him even more. He takes it.

Cock, pistoning so good. Fucking at your spots. You're wailing against him, scratching at his chest, his hard rigid stomach, his neck. Leaving red crescent marks all over.

“Anngh!”

“Such a good bird huh? Taking a stranger's cock so well.”

“Y—yeah nghh ahh.”

He’s grinning at you, a few teeth on display.

You’re gone. So far gone. You're grinding your hips into his, grabbing behind him, his back, pulling him into you. He slows. Deep long strokes now. You can’t do anything but feel it. The dent of your stomach, more evident at every rock of his body into yours. Simon places one of his hands on the bulge. Pressing. Pushing it.

You scream, your juices squirting out of your uncontrollably. You’re shaking so much. Crying. Head stretched back, you're pushing at the bed, jolting away from him.

“Thereeee’s a girl. Thaa’s it bunny, squirt all on me.”

He’s still fucking you slow and deep, riding you through it. The bed, soaked in your cum, your sweat.

“Knot! Knot me please.” You beg. Voice strained, gone from pleasure.

His arms come to the neck of his shirt. He’s taking his shirt off now.

His broad hairy chest on show. Ample. Decorated in various tattoos. You’re in awe of his body.

A few wet hairs stick to the top of his forehead, cheeks dusted pink. Eyes heavy, low. He’s ogling at your scent gland, right by the curve of your neck and shoulder.

“M’gonna mark you.” His eyes gestured at the gland. You can barely hear him through your heat.

He moves both of your legs on his shoulders, pushes closer to you. Breaths mingling. He pulls his cock out to the knob, then rams into you. Quicker, harder than before.

“Ouuh fuck.”

Chasing his own high now, on the brink of release. Cock brushing at your cervix on every thrust. Did he get bigger? Your eyes widening at the thought. There’s a swollen feeling at the bottom of his— knot.

“Want my thrust knot yeah? Tell me bunny. Thrust. Tell me how bad you wan’ it.” His voice, straining. Low, deep. Grunting.

“I wan’ it. Want it so bad. Please. Please. Please—”

He angles his face at your neck, his mouth a breath away from your gland. One hard heavy thrust into your pussy he’s finally cumming. He bites down hard. Your gland, blooming. Blood spilling from the corners of his mouth, his eyes rolling back. You shriek at the feel. Your breath comes in short, rapid pants. Eyes shutting tight. More tears spilling. It hurts so good. Burning sensation washing over you. White hot. Scorching.

White blotchy spurts of his cum flooding you deep. Throaty groans leaving his mouth. You're soaking, drinking it up. There’s so much cum, it’s spilling out. Dropping on the sheets. His body nearly collapsed on yours. Your body can’t take the weight on you. He’s so heavy. Your omega yearns for it, wants the weight on you.

His knot, plugging your cunt, trapping you together. You sigh in pleasure. Satisfaction. Content. You still feel a twitch of his cock, small spurts shooting into you.

A few beats pass, his knot finally deflating. Cock only half hard now. He’s pulling out of you slowly. Beads of his cum following suit. It catches on his tip.

His breathing ragged as he brought his face down to your bruised pussy. It throbs under his burning stare. His mouth inches closer. Wetting his bottom lips, he lunges into you. Sucking, circling, licking at your pussy.

You’re whining, mewling, bucking your hips away from him. He’s quicker. Pining your hips down with two large hands. He’s eating his cum out your pussy.

“T—too much!”

“Mmh.” Groaning, voice vibrating through your over sensitive pussy.

He brings one of his hands, two fingers plugging it back in. Deep. Fucking his cum back in. You’re on the cusp again. Hips hiking up. Back arched in a beautiful bow.

His tongue curling, circling on your clit. You’re seeing stars, everything’s all blurry. You’re cumming again.

“Simon!”

His fingers slow. Just strong unhurried thrusts. You’re coming down. Breath haggard. Eyes blown.

“Can’t leave me now.” He tells you, voice quiet.

You're his.

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