✨✨✨

“Aht aht-” A low rumble echoes out from behind you, its sheer primal tone enough to make the hairs on your body raise. Just as soon as you’re registering Toji’s lowered tone, a sudden spank! rings out against your cunt.

And as you’re yelping in surprise, he lingers his stinging touch right over your clit. The padded tips of his fingers teasing and twisting your swollen clit, “And where do you think you’re going, hm?” 

You’re biting back sobs, “N-nowhere- oh.” Right before your entire throat seems to feel the thumpin’ impacts of Toji’s pulsating red tip. Thwack! He was just so hard that you could almost taste every throb, widenin’ out your goopy walls to his length. Sloooow and sensual, so that you’re feeling each vein primally scrape its pattern out.

And it’s almost as if he’d expected your whiny denial.

Almost as if he’d expected you to react exactly like so, stupidly being tunneled by his inches.

Almost as if he’s been waiting—because in positively no time, Toji’s burrowing the slippery rotundness of his tip against your cervix. Not slow anymore - he was just bashing his circumference in until your eyes damn near bulge out of their sockets.

Such an incredible impact that only he could do, such an incredible speed. It’s leaving you stunned and shaking for a few seconds. A reverie that only Toji can break with his gruff voice, “Nowhere? Hah…” A voice that absolutely didn’t bode well for you or your poor cunt.

The next thing you’re feeling are his roughened digits, slamming down upon your folds once more. Hard. “Leaking all over the sheets- all over. It’s a fucking waterpark down there, and you call that- tch, ‘nowhere’?” His rude grunt is followed up with yet another spank- though, this time, it’s on those jittery hands of yours that still held onto the headboard. “Trying to run from my fat fuckin’ cock and you call that ‘nowhere’?”

You’re squirming your hips away at the pleasure with a whine—

“And look- look! You’re still trying to run.” He breathes, his hold on you tightening enough that you swear you heard your joints pop! “Ya reeeeally think you can run away from me? With my strength?”

“S-swear m’not…” 

“How cute.” Tittering to himself, “Y’know I hunt down people for a living, doll?”

Your mouth lolls agape, just the merciless swipes of Toji’s cock down every orifice made you drool. Somehow, and the slightest rub-a-dub of his winding veins left you seeing stars.

It’s just about all you’re managing to get out before your boyfriend’s hand comes slamming down yet again - this time over your gaped maw. “So to have my girl trying to run away- ‘specially when I’m just trying to fuck her right, is just…” Beads of saliva splatter out, and Toji doesn’t even hesitate before he’s licking the mess off himself. Heavenly restriction flowing through his body, he pins you to him until your body aches lewdly. “One chance to explain yerself. I know you’re in denial because you know you did it, mama- and you’re still trying to say ‘nowhere’.”

Dazedly you can only nod, entire body quivering after the slide-slide-sliiiides of his prolonged shaft. And it wasn’t that you were just overstimulated, it’s that Toji had been hitting your favorite hidden spots for what feels like hours by now (and probably was). “Nowhere…I was just feelin’ sensitive, I promise I wasn’t– oh, fuck.”

As if to prove his very point, he’s dragging his crowned fingertips on your clit- with a particularly hard thrust that has you squealing.

Your limbs weakening, body bucking, arms weakly tugging on the pillars of your mahogany headboard. And through it all, Toji’s looking down at you with a grin.

The headlock tightens, “Still nowhere, huh?”

In shock, you’re immediately letting go of the headboard-

“Too late for that now, mama.” Toji snickers, ignoring those cute pleas of yours. He’d already given you your chance, and now you can do nothing more but arch your back against his chiselled figure, the scritch-scratch of his dark happy trail against your ass- and take it. “You know m’not a patient man…”

Your spit-glossed lips wobble, “Oh, fuck- hck!”

“Nowhere.” Toji hums, and you can almost hear the utter greed in his tone. The breathy octaves. The carnal want. In one fluid motion, he’s giving your traitorous hips two direct smacks! upon either side, and then two more on the inner parts of your thighs, one more straight onto your puffy pussylips.

Just so swollen with need- just so sensitive that you almost don’t register the final two swats he’s hitting on the backs of your hands.

Smack—smack!

Before he lets go of the headlock. Before both his hands clasp your own, fingers tight around your wrists. Toji’s easily pulling and pulling them behind your back, your arms straight and outstretched so that you couldn’t use the headboard for escape anymore- holding you up with nothing but that as he fucks you like an animal.

Bouncing your upper half in midair, inches off the sheets with how hard Toji was manhandling you - easily, at that, he didn’t even break a sweat. “Oh p-please.” You’re whimpering, your head feeling dizzy at the constant pressure from all sides. “Please I wasn’t really going to- oh, my neighbor’s going to hear us-”

“Nowhere.” But you don’t think that Toji Fushiguro can even hear you right now. “And fuck your neighbor.”

He’s driving his toned hips against you like a madman- thrashing and thrashing, bruising your softened cervix. “Nowhere nowhere- nowhere.” That lil’ mantra of his leaving him in scorching hot pants, breezing down your arched spine. Less steady than usual. Less stable. 

In-between each of his feral ruts, the slamming pushes of his cock, “Nowhere.” Sometimes, your eardrums can even make out the sound of Toji chuckling following the word, like even saying it made him laugh. He’s whispering it out as if a broken record player, growing even more crazed by the second. “Nowhere- fuck- nowhere.”

“Toji, you just sound so…” And then you’re turning your head over your shoulder, just to see the expression on your boyfriend’s face- only for any and every breath in your lungs to be instantly wiped from existence. “-oh.”

Oh.

Because Toji’s drunken, half-lidded eyes—fuck, you couldn’t even begin to describe the sheer predatory glint in them right now.

Scarred lips parted into a permanent ‘oh’. The tips of his ears blushing. A thin line of sweat dribbling down the side of his temple. Biceps bulging as he was the only one supporting your weight now. His dark brows furrow in such concentration as he reels his hips back and plunges hot wads of pre straight into your womb—

“You’re going nowhere without me.”

.

.

.

Shiu yawns the moment you and Toji take your seats opposite him, the soft trill of the restaurant bell still following you two. And as you look on curiously at the action, your boyfriend merely scoffs.

“That excited to see us, huh?”

Shiu smirks, “As always.” Before a more weary expression seeps into his face, and you’re noticing the dark circles that have made themselves at home underneath the other man’s eyes. “But oh- I wish. Remember how I told you I moved into that new place? Yeah, so just last night my neighbors were going at it like crazy- fuck! It’s like they were trying to break the damn bed or something, it sounded like a fucking crime scene. I didn’t sleep a wink the entire night, and by the time it was morning, they were still not done.”

Your thighs clench, still sore from your own activities last night - oh, Toji had made sure that you couldn’t run for sure. “You don’t say…”

“Hah! Serves you right, bastard.” Toji’s absent-mindedly looking through the menu for the cheapest options, “What dump did you say you ended up moving to again? So that I never have to come over- ever.”

With yet another sigh (and a yawn), he’s listing off an address that sounds oddly familiar. A building name that you knew too well. An amalgamation of numbers that was much the same as your own home’s…exept for just one digit.

And then you’re remembering that you’d forgotten to greet the new neighbor next-door.

“Wait.”

“Fuck, wait-”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Tie, tie, again.

“So…never thought about having kids yourself?”

You snap your head to Principal Yaga so fast that you think you might’ve gotten a brief whiplash. But the man merely keeps his arms crossed, stare indiscernible behind those shades but obviously pointed in the direction of the school training ground: where your husband, Nanami Kento, was busy sparring with one of his newest students.

You watch as the pink-haired boy gazes up at Nanami with such glimmering admiration, weaving between punches that were slowed down just enough to go easy on the kid. 

And you manage to squawk out, “E-excuse me-” Pupils flitting between your former teacher and the fight happening just meters away, “Did Kento say anything to you about that?”

“No.” Yaga shakes his head, though you think you catch the corner of his mouth just slightly turning upwards. “No, just…saying.”

“I see.” Your mouth was dry, and you weren’t entirely sure why. It’s not as if this isn’t a discussion that you and Nanami have had before - though, admittedly, it wasn’t at great length - but you were under the assumption that he wanted to wait. At least for the time being. Right? Right? “Are you sure he didn’t-”

“He’d make a good father, y’know.” Yaga suddenly says, and you follow his gaze to where the duel had finished by now. 

Though it was inevitable that Nanami would be the winner, he was consoling Itadori with a hand on his head. Crouched down on the grassy field to whisper quiet words of motivation to the boy. Lips slightly curved in that way you knew meant he was holding back a soft chuckle. Almost like father and son.

Yaga turns to walk off, and you almost don’t want to rip your gaze from the sight. He hums, “Just saying~”

.

.

.

“Don’t move a single inch, my love.” Nanami growls, his voice running ragged. “Not a single inch.”

And that was just about how well that conversation with your husband had gone.

Your bleary pupils snap open, and even through the film of tears you can make out the utterly feral expression on your husband’s handsome face. The way his sweaty blond locks plaster all over his forehead, the way his eyes narrowed, the way his jaw grit itself as he reels his sloppy hips back mere inches and thrusts—

“Oh fuh-fuuuuuck.” With your feet planted flatly on the bed, you’re curving your body up into his and rutting- and you honestly don’t know whether you’re trying to move away or down for more, more, more. “Oh my god, Kento, it feels so-”

“And there it is again.” His rugged tone cuts through your whines, and you’re shivering at the purely primal glint in it. With an almost mocking sigh, he scoops a hand underneath your hips and tugs you down.

You’re shaking, “K-Kento…”

“What have I told you now, hm, darling?” He asks, bending your jittery legs without even breaking a sweat. With a hand scooped under your hips, Nanami tugs you down so that your legs are wrapped around his hips instead of pushing against the mattress. You’re being bent so pliably underneath his big, beefy arms- “Keep your legs around my- hah, waist. You can think of tapping out after we conceive our child, m’kay?”

And then your husband plummets a few sopping swipes at the very end of your pussy, making the wads of cum inside you splosh! about. 

And the only thing you can do is gasp, the only thing you can do is nod. Midway through that particular conversation, and his honed cockhead has been drilling into you for hooooours by now, and you think he’ll keep going for hours longer.

The fatness of his thick thumb slides between your pussylips, nudging at your clit. So sweetly sensitive by this point that you’re actually seeing stars—

“And there it is again.” 

Oh, it just made you so much wetter when your beloved husband’s tone got so stern like that. It takes you his parched few words before you’re realizing that you’d started bucking once more- in fact, that last motion of his fingertips had left you arching all the way against his muscular front. “F-fuck, I promise I wasn’t trying to run, Kento.”

“Mhmmmm—” And that was a tone that told you he didn’t believe you. Through his foggy glasses - sliding down his handsome nosebridge - you swear you see him slightly roll his eyes, “But don’t you know that you aren’t supposed to run, my silly wife-”

“I know- mmpf, fuck…”

Just the entire orifice of your throbbing cunt being pummelled by his fat girth, he was the perfect size- with so many winding veins that massaged your sweetest spots. With his blushin’ red tip reaching directly towards your womb, Nanami tightens his grip on your waist, holds you to him, slashes every slick-speckled inch inside you. “If you knew then you wouldn’t be running, hm? Just look at the mess of m’cum you’re making already.” 

Your chin strikes your chest, “I don’t see…oh.”

Before Nanami’s palm flattens over your core, and suddenly he’s pushing down on the slight inflation of his seed. “Now you see.” A creamy puddle of seed drips out between your legs, ropey ribbons of sap drenching the sheets below you. “It’s leaking out so much, what a waste, haaaah, fuck- now we’re never gonna get our pretty lil’ daughter at this rate, my wife.” 

“But there’s already so much.” You’re marvelling, feeling his clingy cum fill you up all the way to your throat—it lets out the most sinful slurps as he’s thrusting his thickened length in and out.

And Nanami’s only leaning his crazed eyes closer, wilder. “But there could be so much more.”

“Oh.”

In an instant, he’s groping your hips and tugging you down- “Mmm, so much more of my cum to give.” Pulling you even deeper onto his hot, veiny length. “So much more to fill you up.” Just your slightest clench is enough to make the man spew out a few more pearly drops of his cum, emptying out all the way into your womb. “So much more of me to fuck you pregnant, pretty momma.” Until the hand on your hip grows bruising, “And you want to fucking run away…”

“Gonna- ngh, m’not—fuck.” Your mouth blabbers away, full of trickling saliva. It was so very easy for his bulbous tip to leave you stupid, somehow reaching across every ridge and crevice, and turning your brain into mush.

“Shhhh shhh sh—” Nanami drawls out, above your lecherous noises. His left hand caresses your face, wiping away a few speckles of saliva that drained the edge of your lips. “I know you won’t run away, my love. Oh, I know you won’t-” Pinpointing the door to your womb just right, he thud-thud-thuds right there. “-I know you won’t run away before I can- hck! get you pregnant. Tha’s what my beautiful wife has been asking me for, isn’t it? To breed her pretty pussy? To make that cunt mine mine mine- until everyone else just has to take one look at you before they know, too, what I’ve done with you?” He purrs, “I know you want me too…”

“P-please!” Nodding, “I want you to- ngh, I really, really…”

With a shudder, you’re letting your feet fall from his waist, arching your back into the perfect lewd curvature. 

And it’s enough for a few more webbed wads of cum to escape from you- and to your surprise, this only makes your husband grin. Something feral. Something gone. His eyes widen crazily for a split-second as he takes in the mess splatterin’ in a glaze all over his v-line, “And yet you’re doing it again.”

“Oh, fuck.…”

You can only watch, with slightly widened eyes, when Nanami leans over the creaking bed. He reaches his arm out of your line of vision, shuffling with something on the bed stand.

And when he’s coming back- oh, Nanami Kento is holding none other than his favorite yellow tie.

The one with the leopard-like print that you’d gotten him a few anniversaries ago. And he’s easily letting go of your body to pin both your wrists together and loop the fabric ‘round and between them, tying you up with a pretty knot.

“Aaaand—there we go.” Nanami gently says, as if he didn’t just finish restraining you with his tie and throwing both your shaky legs over his shoulder. Knees to your chest. Scourin’ tip to your cervix. Pushing you into such a sinful mating press, “All done.”

“Mmmpf-” Teeth grit, you’re instinctually struggling against the restraint whilst he accelerates his hips like an animal—

“All ready to get fucked pregnant, my darling.”

.

.

.

“Hey…Yaga-san? Is it alright to come in?” A few months later, you and your husband find yourselves shuffling inside your former teacher’s office once more. It was later after the school day, and as expected the man was still looking through reports from recent missions. He looks up as you enter.

It’s been years since the time where you’d been here for detentions and important debriefings, and now you were here for a much different reason. 

Slowly, you’re intertwining your hand in Nanami’s as you both face Principal Yaga. He squeezes your hand, golden wedding ring frigid against your skin.

You take a deep breath-

“Kento and I wanted to ask whether you’d like to be our future daughter’s godfather?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - WATERWORKS!

Toshihisa Negi, commander of the Time Vessel Association, a proud core part of Geto Suguru’s ‘family’ of sorcerers, has been having a bit of an issue lately.

Nothing to do with their leader, of course!

He would never speak ill of their glorious leader - never - rather, it’s everything to do with the place of their hideout. The temple made such strange noises at night. Sometimes it’s a constant rhythmic thumping, other times it’s what sounds like nails clawing on tatami- and Negi has half the mind to believe that this particular sanctuary might just be haunted!

And that certainly won’t do for their leader, who only ever deserved the best and nothing but the best. This cacophony must certainly interfere with Geto’s sleep, which must be why his handsome face has been looking a little pale lately, dark circles underneath his eyes.

Which is why the commander took it upon himself to do a little digging, a little snooping around. 

He’s sure he can catch this damned ghost and bring it before their leader (can ghosts be sued? He’s not quite sure…) But either way it’s the dead of night and there’s no turning back now. The man found himself tip-toeing through a winding hallway inside the building, the one where these noises seemed to frequent from. And if this ghost couldn’t get any more audacious, it was the floor their leader’s bedroom was in!

Butterfly net in hand, back plastered against the wall, he’s making his way through the dimly-lit corridor.

Creeping in.

Creeping in…

And there! There it is! That thud-thud-thudding noise was starting up once more. And with a gulp, Negi was tightening his grip on the net and looking into the room where it was emanating from—Geto Suguru’s bedroom.

And what he saw was, oh—

“Once.”

“I d-didn’t—”

“Twice.”

“That was just—”

“Three times you have tried to run away from me tonight, hm?” Geto’s ruthlessly cutting off your pleads, those amethyst eyes of his narrowing in a way that made his pretty face look so mean. And before you can get a proper word out, he’s smacking his fingertips down on your puckered folds.

Not once. Not twice. But three whole times that leave your swollen nub all stinging n’ raw.

Just the wet gush of your slick making you shiver, you’re somehow managing to babble out. “It- it was just reflex, it just felt so good so I-”

“But you know what I’ve told you about running from it, right?” Geto doesn’t raise his voice beyond that familiar purr. “You know?”

And it was almost a challenge to hear him beyond the smack and the smack of his clammy v-line, sticking against the backs of your ass cheeks for a few seconds. You’d been manhandled into a full nelson that was almost too sinful to even look at. To spy on.

Geto had his strong forearms looped underneath your knees, pushing your knees up to your chest. His chiselled body was in control of the pace from beneath, the entire length of his looooong aching cock shoving inside. Hard. Just vicious.

All the way from his pinkish globular tip, and uuuuup between your glistening folds. You can practically hear the grin in his throaty tone, “Or are ya fucked dumb enough that you can’t even remember, gorgeous?”

“I-I remember- I remember!” You’re sobbing out, trying to buck your body on top of his- but the only thing that does is make him pin your body to his even harder.

Geto arches his muscular body upwards, so that the large erection between those legs swerved n’ swerved constantly inside. “Oh reeeeeally—?” It’s almost a growl, a warning, and his slender fingertips slither upwards to pinch that throbbing clit of yours. “And do you remember exactly what I said?”

Hiccuping, “Y-yes–”

He twists that nub of yours, sparks flowing through your body at the act. “Hm—?”

“Yes yes yes!” Yelping, just as loud as he wanted. You’re trying to buck your sheeny hips against his- but all that Geto does is haul your legs upwards until your hamstrings scream, pushed all the way up till your tits. “I remember- ngh, I remember. You said that if I r-run away three times, then…”

“Then?”

“-then I have to- hah, squirt.”

Thwack! The rotundness of his balls end up smacking against your cunt, making a few glittery beads of slick escape your cunt- as if a premonition of what was coming. “Exactly.” There was something breathy in his tone, something that sounded as if he was on the verge of breaking. “Exactly- exactly.” Oh, he already was breaking. “Exactly, you’re going to squirt.”

“Ohhhh, please-” You’re gasping, helpless against his roughening thrusts. Harder and harder, hitting your g-spot multiple times per second. “I don’t even know if I- hah, if I have the possibility to even-”

“You can.” He hums, “And you will.”

You will, you will, you will.

You will and he was thoroughly pumping his shaft into you, just the blossomin’ red tip of his cock entering your womb. You could feel the wetness of his precum seep all over, and it was making your cunt gush out twofold. “Fuh-fuck, it just feels so good-” Running your hands down your front, holding your own core. “-can feel you all the way here.”

“Mmm—” His free hand glides up the middle of your body, just the rotund end of his index drawing a steeeeady line up to your throat. “-not here?”

And then he’s hammerin’ away even faster, hard enough that the circumference of his cockhead bangs your softness- making your entire body go on edge. “C-can feel you there too, please-” You’re writhing in his arms, but Geto’s not letting you move a single inch- you were being fucked to his sloppy pace, with his sloppy wads of precum swirling your insides. “Please, I don’t think m’gonna last long-”

“Then squirt, gorgeous.” His dark lashes flutter as he rolls his eyes, slight amusement in his voice. “Don’t even think about cumming, you better squirt.”

Your nails claw down his forearm, slipping with the thin layer of sweat. “I- I think-”

“Mhmmm—?”

“I think m’gonna-”

Just the flared ridge of his cockhead rubbin’ all over your g-spot, again and again and again. Until that particular bundle of nerves felt way too tender, and you could feel the tug at the pit of your stomach. “Squirt, gorgeous, squirt.” Geto’s hot breath wafts at your throat and down your shoulders, and you can feel yourself veering on the edge of your orgasm. “And don’t think about- hah, running away when you do…”

“I won’t—fuck.”

It’s as if you’re exploding into your sudden bliss- so much of it bursting from between your sopping pussylips that it’s like a faucet. Those splattering wads drip down from your entrance, creating a glaze along his solid inches.

Peak after peak. Thrust after thrust.

His roverin’ red tip perfectly locates your sweet spot, banging against that lil’ treasure trove until you’re almost crying from your high. “It feels so good-” You’re gasping, with your back arched so deep. “Oh my god- fuck! I can’t believe it feels so good.”

“Mmm, told you so.” Geto’s inching in so that he can take goooood long glances between your legs, at the way your sultry hole was swallowing him up with ease. Molded to his thickened girth, “Now just sit back, relax, cum-” His honed canines sink into the left shell of your ear, “-and don’t- fucking- run.”

“I won’t- hck! I won’t…”

At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

Braving through the incredible sensation of his puffy pink veins, they massage into every inch of your walls and make you whimper. In and out. In and out. In and out.

Toes curling.

Back arching.

You throw your head back and the only thing you’re seeing is the white of your high. Your every feeling was heightened, and you can feel the line of his slit embed deep into your cervix, as if carving out his own mark there. 

And it twitches restless each time you’re clenching, it jolts, it spurts out in wads of precum after each convulse- and Geto is just fucking you like an animal. All the way until way past your high, and your hole stops splashin’ out your syrupy sap. All the way until it peters out, and Geto is still pounding up restlessly into you-

“M’high’s over, Suguru…” Your mouth lolls open, slobbering down the front of your chin. Twitching as his slick-glazed cock just keeps going faster, “I said- fuck! I said it’s over, Suguru, I can’t cum again so soon-”

“So what?”

Oh.

A shudder wracks through your entire body, and you’re in sheer awe at the way his thickened length seems to plunge into you. Rapid. Urgent. Not even proper thrusts anymore, mere half-thrusts from the middle of his vein-covered shaft just because he was so eager to feel you. “It’s just so-” And just as urgent, your body thrums with your own pleasure. “Just feels so- hck! Fuck! I can’t even speak-”

“Mmm…you can’t speak, but remember you can’t run, either.”  He warns, slightly chuckling at his own joke.

“And yet- how am I supposed to help it-”

“How am I supposed to help it, hm?” Geto coos, all faux-innocence that you knew too well. Because the problem is- he was fucking you like he wanted you to run from it. Wanted you to squirm away. Wanted you to worry that it was too much. Hard and fast and rough. “I just wanna keep on fuckin’ this pretty- hah, pussy. How m’I supposed to do that if you keep fucking- running- away.” With a slight growl, those fingers on your clit squeeze once more, and you find yourself lurching off of his drilling hips with a gasp. “Just like that.”

“What-” Your eyes snap open, “Wait- wait that wasn’t me running-”

“And yet, it was.”

Such a sweet tone that he’s taking on with you, and yet his actions are so mean. 

One hand moving up to choke your pretty neck, the other twisting over your clit. “I’m not a good man, honey.” He growls in your ear, thrusts speeding up. “I’m not a good man at all- no one in this city can run from me.” Until you think you might just be veering into yet another wave of bliss, mind so muddled that you barely even register it. “Not even you.”

You’re begging, nails attempting to drag down the floor. “P-please-”

“And for running from me four times, hm…how about…” You’re waiting with bated breath as he rattles on, pretending to think when you knew damn well that Geto Suguru always thought his words out beforehand. “-how about we breed you, hm?”

Fuck.

It hits you just as hard as it hits Negi, watching from the doorway—frozen. 

He doesn’t know what do to - laugh at his impression that it’d been a ghost, when it was really this all along (fuck, he should’ve known), or cry because he’s never been harder in his life-

Just then for the briefest second - the briefest - Geto Suguru’s eyes meet his through the slight crack in the sliding doors.

And the glorious leader only smiles.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Giddy up!

Which one of you was more drunk n’ gone by this point?

You had absolutely no idea.

Absolutely no fucking idea—because you were riding you pretty boyfriend until he was spilling out in great, glittering tears. Just the cutest wobble of his pinkish lips, sensitive with how many times he’d been gnawing down on them. Skin flushed a lecherous rouge all the way from the tips of his ears, down to his abs.

And the entirety of his muscular body wracked with shivers after each clench of your clingy walls ‘round him, “Hck! Fuh-fuck!” His quiet baritone shook with so many whines any time he opened his mouth, “Fuck, it just feels so good, baby.”

“S’that sooooo—?” And then there was you - quite frankly, you were just addicted to riding Choso Kamo until he was all overstimulated and tender. Because he just made the prettiest noises, just said the cutest things, just fucked you in the filthiest way.

Because he was addicted too, didn’t you know?

Those hazy chocolate eyes of his bore up into yours, “Mhm, i-it is so.” And he lets out a cracked whimper as you’re kissing away the line of drool built up on one corner of Choso’s maw. “And you better not stop until m’cumming dry, alright?”

You’re holding back a giggle at the way he was urging his head upwards, so thorough in his pleads. “But of course, Cho.”

And he was going to hold you to that.

It wasn’t just a request, it was a promise.

It was an oath- because even numerous bounces of your hips later, when your hamstrings are all screaming and sore, Choso still doesn’t want you to stop. Even as he’s feeling the sensitivity build up in his red, raw cock- Choso still doesn’t want you to stop. Even as he’s fucking beading out a few pearly beads of white from the end of his shaft—

“Some more- some more-” Choso hiccups from the back of his throat, noises wrenching out thickly. By now, the creaking of the bed was so loud that you could barely even make out his sultry words. “Just a little more- hck! I feel like m’getting close to cumming dry, baby.”

“Still just ‘close’?” You ask, through a slight gasp of surprise. “Oh, baby, your stamina is just off the charts.”

Just at that, you can feel his flared tip splash! out a few more webbed wads of cum. Such a pretty blush taking over his cheeks, “Th-thank you for that, baby.”

Grinning, and this time you’re dragging your hips reeeeeal slow along his shaft while you think. Just the sultriest figure-eights that leave the man underneath you panting and begging for more. “Mmm, but that makes me think, Cho-”

“Wh-what does that pretty mind say, hm?” He’s somehow managing out through his tears. Hanging on your every word (as he always did) even when he was being fucked stupid by your pussy, the slip-slip of your velvety walls snatching away every coherent thought in his mind.

“Hmmmm—” And with the final, loudest slurp! Choso’s grabbing the side of your right ass cheek and helping you bounce on his upright cock. Simply moving you with his strength, biceps flexing maddeningly - times like this, it’s hard to forget that his strength was simply inhuman. “Y’know how you still haven’t cum dry, Choso?” He’s fervently nodding, head throwing backwards as your speed picks up once more. “Well, m’wondering whether maybe with your- mm, half-curse body it’s possible for us to even make it out alive before you cum dry-”

“But I’d rather die than stop-” Choso cranes his head upwards in alarm, crashing his spit-glossed lips onto yours in an effort to get you to stop talking.

To stop overthinking.

To stop doing anything but swervin’ and swervin’ his rock-hard cock inside you, until each and every inch of your innards was pinpointed with his cum. 

With both hands he’s grabbing either side of your hips now, pulling you down to meet his wild, thrashing bucks- “Would rather- fuck- fucking die than let go of this pretty pussy.” He’s muttering between each thrust, more to himself. “Would rather fucking die than hafta say goodbye t-to her.” Just the edge of his pinkish tongue darting out as he concentrates on hitting your g-spot juuuust right. “Would rather- hngh, oh, baby, I’d do so many things for you- but giving up when your pussy needs me is something I’d rather die than do. Would rather die- rather die- rather—”

“Oh- fuck!” You’re arching your back into his movements, now more taken over by his own vicious cadence. 

You didn’t even know that your sweet boyfriend could move like this, and he was positively ruining your pussy by stretching out ridge and crevice to mold exactly to his size. Whispering, “Because just feel the way she’s clenching around me- suckin’ me in like she d-doesn’t want me t-to leave.” 

Dark brows furrowed in concentration, in a way that made him look so handsomely serious as he pummelled your pussy raw. “And the way her cute womb twitches juuust like- that- she’s getting herself ready for my seed, y’know- heh.” Babbling on the most nonsensical things, the most pussydrunk, “And the way she’s just dripping- oh, it makes me wanna…makes me wanna…why are you running, baby?” 

Your eyes snap down to meet his, slight shock in your voice. “Wh-what?”

“Running.” Choso’s lower lip juts out in what looks like a slight pout, and he’s running one of his hands down from your thigh to graze down the front of his abs. Down the front of where you’d left a glistening snail trail of your slick, “Look at the mess you’ve made trying to escape- ngh, why are you running from me, baby?”

“That’s probably from it smearing-” You try to explain-

“But it isn’t.” As if to prove his point, the hand at his sheeny-slicked abs moves to grip your throat and drag you back closer to him. “That thing you do- yes, that-” And that’s only when you’re noticing - the way that your hips bucked juuuust slightly upwards in sensitivity, whenever his cockhead veered too close to your battered g-spot. So that was what he was talking about. “-don’t you think of running away from me, baby.”

“I didn’t think I was…”

“Why’s she trying to run a-away? Doesn’t it feel good enough?” He’s pleading up at you, left hand now pinning your lower half to his own. You could feel every single ripple n’ flex of his waist as he fucked up into you like a madman, and it made even the man himself tear up in sensitivity. “Doesn’t this pussy like it? Hck! Don’t I hit—” Stroking the target of your g-spot until you see stars, “-eeeevery good spot so well? Do I need to cum even more inside?”

Dazedly, you’re shaking your head. “No- hah! No no, it’s not that, Cho, it’s just—”

Long lashes fluttering, Choso’s holding you down to him so tightly that his knuckles stretch themselves white. Nails digging into your flesh. Heat seeping into your body. “Jus’ what, baby?”

“It’s just that I’m so sensitive.”

And there, you’d said it.

Blinking past your tears, all there was left to do now was to watch Choso’s reaction. Just the most adorable way he was blushing down to the roots of his hair as he took in your words- took in the way that his needy cock was the one to have done that. 

Mouth slightly agape.

Cock twitching inside of you.

And his mouth opens to let out a scorched pant- perhaps you’re waiting for him to say something. But before saying, Choso’s doing. Acting. Flipping your sweaty bodies over so that you have your back against the silken sheets and your legs thrown over his shoulder.

His perspired forehead sticking to yours with a slight thud, Choso’s pressing you into a fucking mating press before you even know what’s happening. “And here- this-” He crushes your limp legs tightly to himself, stopping you from squirming a single inch. “-you can’t run away in this position, right, baby?”

Your jaw drops, “I-I guess not-”

“Good.” And it’s accompanied by the most lecherous plap! of his rotund tip entering your womb, leaving bruises for days. “So you can take me until I- hngh, cum dry, can’t you?”

“Yes-” The only thing you can gasp out, like a broken record player. “Yes yes yes yes-” You were still so damn sensitive, and every rub-a-dub of his veiny shaft left you reeling. Tears streaming down either of your cheeks. Your toes curling. Back arching-

And then…just then, a sudden realization hits you.

“Wait- Choso, have you stopped your blood manipulation technique from going to your cock yet?”

“What do you-”

“How are you gonna cum dry if you- hck! keep regenerating? We’ll just never stop-”

“Oh.” And yet another few vulgar slams, another smile. “I see no problem there.”

.

.

.

Perhaps it hours later, days later, weeks later—but by the time that Choso’s finally slowing down, finally letting cock dryly orgasm out into your sloppy cunt- you think you can see the sunlight filtering through the curtains.

What day was it?

“Dunno.” Choso hums—did you say that out loud. He huffs out a bark of hoarse laughter, “Yes, yes you did.”

“Mmmm.” You’re curling up into his side, feeling the splash! of ivory sap streaming between your legs. 

Stuffed so full by Choso’s thickened base, “Now…have you ever heard of a ‘rut’, my baby? Especially for curses?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Four arms// Four escapes.

“I really don’t know how you do it, my lady.” The elderly attendant mutters behind her hand, catching your attention from where you both had been watching the infamous King of Curses train.

Punch after punch dealt onto tall wooden pillars.

With his bare hands.

The oak shatters easily beneath his strength, all four arms dealing powerful blows that make the ground trundle beneath your feet. And once he was done with each pillar after one or two strikes, a group of Sukuna’s attendants would totter over yet another one. Hastening to stand it upright in the middle of the dojo, and sprinting away before they, too, were caught in the shockwave.

You supposed that it wasn’t particularly the most productive pastime, especially considering that you were simply an avid spectator.

But oh—did you have much to look at.

The thin layer of sweat on Sukuna’s shirtless body, emphasizing his every prominent muscle, biceps rippling as he moved his arms, abs tensing, eyes honed in on his target. It simply sent shivers down your spine, and you find yourself almost forgetting that you’d been in the middle of a conversation - technically.

“F-forgive me, the noise of the wood is quite loud, isn’t it?” You’re explaining, turning to your attendant with much difficulty. “What was that?”

“I said I really don’t know how you do it, my lady.” She places her palm on one cheek, staring over at the scene with a sigh. “I do not wish to speak ill of his majesty, of course, but with all those extra arms, those extra eyes, those extra mouths- all that monstrous strength…”

“Yes?”

“Forgive me for asking but…isn’t it almost fearsome?”

And you can only smile, “Far from it.”

.

.

.

Less than an hour later and you were splayed out all across the dojo floor - empty, now, except for you and your husband. The King of Curses. Ryomen Sukuna. Shoving you down onto the carpeted ground and shoving his dual cocks inside you.

“What was that- tch.” Sukuna’s snarling out from above you, a hint of amusement in his grumbling tone. “Ya were gossiping about me with the help, were ya? Saying such sappy things- pah! don’tcha know that a king has an image to keep up, lil’ brat.”

And you’re gasping through your tears, words slightly muffled by the way that Sukuna clasps the sweaty back of your scalp and pushes your face deeper into the soft floor. “But- but I wasn’t lying–”

“And for that yer getting it even harder.”

Because they were right - Ryomen Sukuna is merciless, he is vicious…when it’s to do with your aching hot pussy, that is. 

That red, rotund ends of his shafts were so fucking hard that it almost felt like he was about to burst- swirlin’ your insides in combination with his translucent precum. Pushing his wads into even the tiniest crevices within you, he swabs his lengths against your g-spot and then straight down to your cervix.

Creating two dull thud-thuds! that make your teeth set on edge, body weakly crawling forwards from his ploughing hips. “Oh my- oh my god—ngh.” You’re clawing at the ground in an attempt to hold on for dear life, “I will stand by the fact that you’re- ngh, actually a sappy softie-”

“Ohhh, you have such a mouth on you, woman.” The bridge of his nose crinkles in a smile that almost looks like a snarl. “Is it really yours- or that pussy of yours that’s talking now?”

You throw a dopey grin over your shoulder, “Why don’t you c’mere and find out- hck!”

“Mmmm, really is that pussy talkin’ then.” Sukuna’s tutting, and you can almost hear the roll of both crimson sets of his eyes. One of his clawed hands scraping down your spine, “I know my lil’ human isn’t brave enough to challenge me-”

“But I just said-”

“-unless she just wants ta be fucked even harder.”

Even harder. Even rougher.

The sloppy, sloppy glides of his cockhead ends up hitting your every tender orifice inside- just emptying out his pre into every crevice it’d stick. It slips down the sides of your channel and ends up leaking out of your hole, a delicate stream that his second cursed tongue flops out to lap up.

The slimy edge of his monstrous tongue ends up slipping between your quivering legs, ticklin’ back and forth to gulp up your sweetened juices.

Leaving you attempting to uselessly pry your hips away with a whine, “Oh- oh my goodness. Both cocks a-and your tongue, fuck, now that’s just unfair-”

“What’s unfair?” Sukuna humans, and oh—the audacity for both his smirking mouths to snicker down at you. Just raising his pale pink brow at the way you blabber out stupidly with the scourings of his shafts, “And here I thought you said I was sappy-” The words bursting down at you after each heavy probe of his dual tips, “-here I thought you said I was soft-”

“W-well you are t’me…” Bubbling out through the miry ribbons of saliva between your lips, you push your hips back n’ forth into his maddeningly. 

“And yer saying- this is soft?” Only to be shoved a proper few inches down the floor - and you don’t get too far. Because two of his hands end up on your hips, one more on top of your scalp, yet another one wrapped ‘round your neck. All of them tightening to haaaaaul you back into him- “Really? Soft? Soft?” Striking your cervix particularly hard, “Because s’feeling reeeeal hard t’me, mama.”

“It does- it does feel hard.” You’re mindlessly agreeing, and he just finds it so adorable how you’re fucked so beyond stupid that you can’t do anything but whimper out your agreements. And yet, still stubbornly, “But you’re still…”

“Heh, cute.”

It’s just so easy to grip your body from four sides and draaaag you back onto his cocks, sliding across that floor, pulled until the curve of your ass cheeks were snug against his pink happy trail. 

“N’ is it because m’sooooo soft that yer trying to fucking run away, brat?” Sukuna was merciless, manhandling you to him as if you were nothing but a ragdoll. Honed, he shovels all his matching inches into yours until it felt wrong to not have him stuffed inside your cunt. “Is it? M’just too- heh, sweet that you need to escape from my fat fuckin’ cocks? Just such a big softie that you can’t even handle it?”

Insisting, “I can handle- oh.”

“And it’s because the king is so merciful that I need ta be even rougher, don’t I?”

“Oh.”

Before you know it, you’re being bodily lifted off of the floor. And Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t even need to break a sweat to have you moved around just how he wanted it, and you blink- you’re suddenly carried off the dojo ground. 

Arms scrambling to latch around Sukuna’s shoulders, ankles locking over his toned waist.

He’s lifting you clear seven feet off of the flat surface, where you have absolutely nowhere to escape from his thickened cocks. Swelling even further the deeper they push inside of you, “Heh- standing up.” Sukuna’s calling out over your crackling whines, “Now you have nowhere to go. Nowhere to run-” He nuzzles you with his handsome nose, so prominent. “-from your softie, huh?”

“I don’t- fuck.” In practically no time, he’s drilling into you like an utter madman. The round ends of his lengths constantly swabbin’ your sweet spots back and forth, “When I said you were a- ngh, Kuna-”

“Oh, shush, woman.” He’s fondly rolling his eyes - his favorite hobby, fucking his wife dumb. “And fucking- take- it.”

.

.

.

The next time you’re watching Sukuna train, it’s seated.

With your body sore from the day before, and your thighs still quivering. You’re clasping your hands together, gulping, as you watched on at the repetitive motions of Sukuna destroying those towering wooden pillars once again.

A sight that you found hypnotizing- oh, the way he moved-

“I must say.” Your trusty attendant pipes up from her seat beside you, “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen his majesty wear quite this many layers when he is training. Quite strange.” She turns to you, “Is he suffering from some ailment? Must I summon the royal physician?”

“I uh-” You’re blinking down at your husband who- yes, was wearing an extra training robe today, unlike yesterday when he’d simply been shirtless. Though there was a damn good reason for that. “Not that I’m aware of…”

“Then I believe it would be a good idea to have his majesty undergo a check-up.” She’s nodding fervently, leaning into the middle of the battlefield to take a closer look at the fighting royal. “After all, we wouldn’t want to miss anything when it comes to his majesty, I trust that it isn’t anything serious but nevertheless- oh!”

And it’s then that you see it - the both of you.

The way that Ryomen Sukuna’s robes shift just slightly to the side as he gears up yet another punch. The way that Ryomen Sukuna reveals his skin, decorated in a pattern of bruises and lecherous nail marks and bite marks that leave the both of you gaping.

And the attendant snapping her eyes away from the king and towards you-

“W-well, I believe we must summon the royal physician despite that.” Looking at your middle, your own skin peaking out with nail marks of his own hands. “For…other purposes.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - XOXO!

“O-oh, Taku, just the feeling of it is so…” Your mouth waters, and you’re unable to even finish your sentence at the time.

The only thing you can even think about is the feeling of your boyfriend’s long, pretty cock. It was stuck all snugly inside of your cunt, opening up even the tiniest orifices - and not just that, but you were hypnotized by the feeling of his latest Prince Alber’s piercing—

It’d been just over a month and a half since Ino had come back from the tattoos and piercings shop with a surprise. Showing off that silvery orb he’d pierced along the sensitive line of his slit.

And fuck- was it hot.

Bu the waiting had been torture.

You had to wait for weeks after until he’d properly healed, until you could finally corner him in your shared bedroom and all but pounce on him. Until you could finally, finally feel the coldness of that lil’ sphere travelling back n’ forth inside your cunt, a sensation like never before.

“You don’t hafta be nice t’me, pretty.” And oh—Ino Takuma sounded as if he was on the very verge of falling apart as he’s begging down at you. Hips rutting into yours in a mean missionary, just the classic position so he could stare at both your pretty face and your pretty cunt. He blushes, “But…but do you really like it that much?”

You’re nodding furiously, “Like it? I love it, oh—can feel exactly where it is. Just a little to the right, Taku, and you’re gonna hit my- ngh, right there.”

Easily, the frigid circle of his piercing finds itself pressin’ down on your g-spot as if it was nothing but some cute lil’ button for him to push away. “Right there.” He whispers to himself, brows furrowing adorably in concentration. “Right there, right there, right there- you know how my piercing feels all- hngh, inside you, sweetness? How you can’t hide a single spot from me now?”

“Yes yes yes—” You were just so damn wet that any time his cock pulled out, that piercing near the top of his shaft glinted with so many layers of glazed slick. “Feel so perfect inside- hck!”

“If you think that’s perfect just wait until m’hitting your pretty cervix.” Ino coos out, his right hand falling down to the side of your hip so that he could properly control where he aimed. 

Your legs curled tighter around his slender waist, “Well h-hurry up then-”

“My impatient girl.”

And you don’t have to wait too long - Ino Takuma never made his pretty girl wait too long - before the curved edge of his cock finally finds your most fragile spot. And not only is he grazing it with his length, Ino is taking the time to angle his hips and rub right along that particular spot.

Rubbin’ and rubbin’.

A few times until your eardrums pop with pleasure, and you almost don’t hear the next words out of his mouth- “Y’know I purposefully got my piercing exactly where I knew it’d hit your g-spot, sweetness?” Ino proudly announces, making your jaw drop. He did what? “Because I knew my girl’s pretty pussy would appreciate it, and of course- why wouldn’t I wanna always kiss that cute spot?”

“You’re- you’re insane.” You’re somehow gasping out, your entire body overtaken by the precise way that his Prince Albert’s piercing massages your nerves. “Oh my god, you’re driving me insane.”

“Mmm, in a good way- right?”

It takes you a few more cold smooches against your g-spot for you to finally snap -  your legs planting upon either side of the mattress as you thrust yourself higher up the bed. Jerking sensitively every time Ino successfully manages to knock-knock-knock his mushroom tip against your g-spot. “I mean-” You hiss, “I mean- yes- fuck!”

“But then why are you running away…?”

After Ino’s pouty question, he’s grabbing a good handful of your waist and lugging you back down onto his cock. Your eyes snap open as you hit his toned v-line with a smack! fully plunged with his cock- before he’s starting his rugged pace once more.

Hips rutting down into yours like such an animal- “Why are you running?” He breathes, almost as if he couldn’t quite believe your action himself yet. “Don’t run from me, pretty, we still have so much to doooo—”

“M’not really-” But then his cold cold orb lodges against your g-spot once more and you swear you see white, “Oh my god-” Body moving instinctually before your mind once more to bounce away, “-holy fuck, it just feels too good.”

“If it feels too good then maybe this pretty pussy just needs to learn how to take it, hm?” He’s questioning, one brow raised. Pleading, “Don’t run, please.”

“I c-can’t help it- oh.”

And then…and then the strangest thing, Ino finds himself looking forward to that helplessly cute way that you’d try to steady your wobbly legs and push up the bed- as if you were torn on whether you wanted to escape or come back down for even more of him. 

He’s finding himself hypnotized.

Finding himself addicted.

Ino’s growing even impossibly harder every time he has to pretend to roll his eyes, perhaps even sigh. And with the most sleazy smirk on his face, he’d clap his hand down upon your hips once more and gyrate your body back down. “But I haven’t even gotten ta kiss every part of you with this- ngh, piercing yet, pretty.” He’s throwing back his chestnut bangs and pouting, “First I hafta kiss your pretty clit here—mwah!”

Pulling out, you shiver and twitch once he taps his bulbous piercing down on your sensitive nub. “Oh my- ngh.”

“Don’t run.” He’s pinning you back down to him, until your clit gets crushed underneath the mass of his body, the tufts of his happy trail. “And theeeeeen I hafta kiss that s-sweet g-spot right here. Mwah!” 

Precisely striking your g-spot with that metallic addition.

You’re bucking wildly a few times before you realize that you’re not going anywhere with Ino pinning you down. And it’s times like this that his strength, trained with so many missions, so many exercises, really left your cunt soaked.

Letting off the sappiest squelches as he keeps drilling his vein-covered shaft in- “And then- oh, can’t forget your cute cervix. Mwah!” Just sliiiding his cold piercing down the sopping wet end of your pussy,  it draws frigid lines there that you feel even as Ino’s pulling back to do it all over again. “And your womb- oh, how I love her always. Just the sweetest gal, askin’ for my cum—mwah!”

You gasp, “Oh, you’re j-just so filthy, Taku. Didn’t even know you had this side of you.”

“Well, the piercing just has me appreciating every inch of you that I get to call mine, sweetness.” He hums, dragging his kiss-swollen lips down yours. “And next up is gonna be these pretty lips of yours- mwah!”

Shuddering at the implication, you couldn’t move even if you wanted to- and even though that’s what Ino was manhandling you into the entire time, well…

He couldn’t believe it himself, to be quite honest. He’s already hankerin’ for the way those glossy walls of yours would clench around him, would move all over and stir his thickened cock. You just had him drunk on your pussy with just a few sultry swerves.

And he’s holding one hand to your hips, pressing you against his toned pelvis- “Hey- hey, pretty.” Getting your attention, now matter how stupid you were fucked by him. Ino was already starting to move your hips by himself, signalling you to fuck back- “How about s’your turn to get kissed by me this time, hm?”

.

.

.

The tattoo and piercings shop got a speedy appointment the very next day, and their brows slightly raised when they saw the name written down on the register.

INO TAKUMA—3:15PM APPOINTMENT TODAY

(MORE GENITAL PIERCINGS—POSSIBLE JACOB’S LADDER?)

So this was the very customer that’d wanted a Prince Albert’s piercing less than two months ago, and had nearly cried on the chair whilst getting it- though, despite how many times the piecers had suggested perhaps they do something else for the day, it was almost admirable how adamant he’d been. All for his lovely girlfriend, you, it seems.

Ultimately he’d ended up talking about you and showing pictures throughout the entire experience, leaving half the store swooning and the other half disgusted yet happy for the two.

And if he was coming back then- well, they can only assume that the surprise piercing went very, very well.

♡ GOJO SATORU - MARATHON

“Satoru?”

“Yes, my beautiful wife~?”

“Can reverse cursed technique be used in bed?”

.

.

.

And that was exactly what’d gotten you into this mess in the first place.

With your face pushed into the mountains of your pillows, now drenched with all the pathetic droolin’ you’d been doing these past multiple hours. With your ass held high in the air, your skin there stinging and raw with constant impact.

Quivering at the next—

“Come on.” Gojo’s hoarse bass echoes out from behind you, enough to send goosebumps skittering across every inch of your body. “Come on come on- come on-” Because oh—he just sounded so unsteady. So gone. So ready to snap any and every second he’s plunging his red, wettened tip into your insides.

Voice breathy. Octaves higher.

Earlier, you’d made the mistake of slightly attempting to escape his aggressive thrusts- out of sheer surprise at the filthy pressure. And now - instead of being offended, instead of ignoring it, instead of rolling his eyes at your dramatics - your husband was urging you to do it again.

More.

Faster.

Further. 

Shaking every time he’s reeling his hips back to slam into the deepest depths of your cervix, throwing you forwards a few inches down the bed. And Gojo’s watching the entire thing unfold with nothing but a shaky chuckle at the way your poor body was nothing but mush against his maddened pace. “Come on- come- fuck! come- on.”

“Oh my-” You’re throwing your head back, only for Gojo to lean forwards and bite down on the side of your neck like some animal in heat. “Oh my- hck! god- when you s-said regeneration, I didn’t think you’d be able to last- ngh, this long.”

“Come on- fuck, you mean my stamina, sweetheart?” And it was a pure wonder that he was able to even register the words you were saying, let alone form a coherent response. “My stamina’s always been like this, pretty girl…”

And as he trails off, you’re holding your breath- for the way that he’s then slamming a few greedy fingertips down on your clit and letting it buzz with sparks of cursed energy. “Oh fuck- oh.”

Gojo coos as you start to buck with the pleasure that flashes behind your lids, “It’s just that- oh, with my reverse cursed energy now—” He’s leaned up so close behind you that you could feel the glissade of his toned core, abs massaging down your spine. “-I don’t have to worry about breaking bones.”

And something in his tone told you that he was well and fully capable of doing so.

Well and fully.

He drags one of his training-roughened hands down the sides of your body, soothing all those sore tendons and ligaments. “So don’t be afraid to go all out, sweetheart.” Gojo’s humming, voice airy- with just an inkling of something…dark that sets you on edge. “Don’t be afraid to…h-heh run if you need to.”

“R-run?” You’re repeating after him. And you’re only halfway through your wonderment at just why you might need to run, when you’re getting your answer already.

When Gojo’s pummeling his puckered edge into you until you’re seeing stars- and you’re just so overstimulated that his strawberry divot has you crying out. 

Body quivering as you jerk just a little, move just a little off of his rhythmically drilling shaft. Almost running from it.

And you swear that Gojo’s half-lidded peripherals burst with a faint few bolts of lightning as he catches the act, lips squiring up into a shattered smile. “That’s right-” One hand of his finds itself latched onto the back of your neck, forcefully bouncing you back n’ forth. “That’s right that’s right- run, my pretty little wife, run. Come on, run.”

“Satoru—” Whining out, your body can only weakly take his thorough pushes. Shivering as you pap! your hips down onto his, his cum from round prior sploshin’ all around. “Satoru it’s just s-so much…”

That’s all it takes for his blushin’ tip to throb just a little bigger deep inside of you, Gojo’s voice turning breathy as he exclaims. And any time you moved, he would just draaaag you back down. “O-ohhhh, yeah keep saying that. Just a little further, come on now- mhmmm, further.”

“T-trying—”

A cool breeze of reverse cursed energy refreshes your muscles, “Come on. Coooome on, this pretty body can give me a little more- s’just so cute how you keep runnin’ from it but still come back down for more. A little further now, my wife.”

“So bossy.” You’re huffing out.

“Oh yeah, that’s right-” And Gojo’s upturning his pretty pink lips and giggling—the audacity! He leans his weight further down on your lower half, making the gravity of it push you further up the creaking bedsprings. Whispering into your ear, “Does that make you wanna run from me, sweetheart? Wanna- hck! show me what I’m missing? Make me beg for you back again?”

“Yes-” You’re gasping, your entire body still aaaaaching- even despite the reverse cursed energy that flowed through you. As you didn’t have the years of training and stamina that he did, “Yes yes yes, it makes me want to…”

Your mouth waters once Gojo’s tip expertly locates your g-spot- so bruised by now with his constant thrashes. He tap-tap-taps against there a few times, “Makes you want to what, hm?”

“Makes me want to—oh.”

And you’re not quite sure what was about to fall out of your mouth, you’re not quite sure what you were even thinking at that point - because in a split-second, you’re crashing into your nth high of the night. 

With your body dropping drunkenly down onto the bedsprings below, and your eyes glazing over with a fresh bout of overstimulated tears. Toes curling. Mouth squealing his name like a mantra.

Gojo has so much fun simply starin’ down at his pretty wife and sighing fondly - how cute. How easy it was for him to let his cursed energy go out of control- invisible tendrils of power lift you off of the bedsprings, raising you in midair. “I thought I told you to fuck back t’me- I thought I told you to run, my pretty girl.”

“I-I tried-” You’re sobbing, feeling his thick tip thud your g-spot without even trying - as expected, you’re looking over your shoulder and gasping at the lightning sparking around his eyes. He was using his Six Eyes to find your g-spot each and every time.

“Mmm, you tried? But s’not time to- ngh, tap out just yet, y’know?” He drawls out, amused. Those coils of Gojo’s power still keep you moving to his every whim and want- “How about there- the headboard. Try n’ grab it if yer gonna run, might just help you.”

Arm limply reaching forwards, “L-like this?” And it’s Gojo that has to help you properly clasp onto it, too. The audacity. 

“Yeahhhh come on now.” He snickers, “Try to run- yes like- oh, put your back into it, sweetheart.” Whilst he’s pounding your geysering orifice like he’s just gone wild, he’s encouraging you to move your body. “Just a bite more- aw come on.” And just like that, he’s dragging you back down onto his furious cock with ease. “You’d never make it on the battlefield against me- heh.” 

“Well you are the strongest.” You’re blubbering out, and it might just be the most sensible thing you’d said all day.

“Heh, you got that right.” Gojo hums, the prettiest pussydrunken smile on his face. He ends his ruby-red tip out at your cervix with a wettened squeeeelch! “And m’fucking you like it, too.”

The final lewd noise before your cunt gets plugged up again with so many webs of cum, the ropey lines of it taking over every inch inside you. 

He lets his sweaty head fall back with a groan. His back arching into yours. His hips pinning you down to stuff you full, despite how insistent he was on letting you squirm away to your heart’s content. He wasn’t leaving a single bit of space for you, and Gojo watches with a smile at the way the ivory sap gleams out from your pussylips.

Gojo watches with his Six Eyes at the way the ivory sap gets fucked even deeper inside of you, ending up embedded all the way into the backs of your womb-

“Mmm, I think it finally took, my wife.” He announces.

And you have to look over your shoulder with a gasp, “It- oh.”

But Gojo Satoru wasn’t going to give your pussy up that easily, “Now, how about a study on whether infinite void can be used in bed?”

.

.

.

Gojo wanted to burst out laughing, he really did.

He watches Yaga’s face grow paler and paler by the second, by the neat lines, of his jujutsu report. It was probably the first one he’s done since- well- ever (semantics), and if you asked Gojo himself then he’d tell you that he did a damn good job of it.

Diagrams and annotations and all.

Anecdotes, too.

The council of elders wanted a report of his cursed prowess, then they were going to get it.

And by the end of it, Yaga’s dark brows were lifting above his sunglasses- and the hand that’d been holding the report had started to grip it so hard that his fingers were breaking through the paper. “Ay! Easy there, Yaga-san, I only printed out one of those and it’s actually a very through deep dive on the use of my powers in sexua-”

“Gojo Satoru, you’re fired.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - T(rack)star

“Aww, my poor angel.” Higuruma, your loving husband, rubs your nipples softly through your ratty t-shirt. His fingertips alternating between rolling over and just lightly massaging your hardened nubs, slightly cracked from your recent bout at breast-feeding. 

He hums to you gently, nudging his face along the inner part of your throat so that you can seep in his calming familiar musk. “So you’re saying that our daughter has been biting on my wife’s pretty tits too hard, hm?” And you’re nodding, wincing at the memory of your young daughter - you love her, of course, but she’d just started teething and the pain was getting almost unbearable during feeding time. “I’ll have to have a stern talk with her.”

You laugh at his half-joke, so deadpan. “My hero. But no- all I really need is some time to relax, I think.” Sadly gesturing at your tits, “Maybe pamper these girls a little.” 

“I’ll book you a spa day at once- for tomorrow.” Higuruma states, eyes darkening with intent. “And a getaway next month, perhaps for just us. And we’ll start to wean her onto bottle-feeding, it’s about time, anyways. And…”

“And?” You’re raising a brow.

And oh- the way he was looking at you just now…“And for now…I have another solution.”

Less than two hours later and you find yourself flatly on your back, coursing through your second orgasm of the night. The sheer primal bliss rips through you and makes your limbs twitch each n’ every time Higuruma was fucking you through your high.

He was ruthless with it, just swipe-swipe-swiping away any droplet of your slick inside n’ replacing it with his own clingy sap. Claiming you from the inside out, he’s letting his translucent pre overflow from your leaky hole. Muffled, “Feels- mmpf, feels good, sugar?”

“Y-yes—” You’re trilling out, unable to help yourself. Before you’re glimpsing down at the vision of your husband, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, Hiromi.”

He pops off of your right nipple with a wettened plop! “My apologies.” And swear you can catch a thin line of saliva glide down a stern edge of his lip, something so out of place for your attorney husband. “How m’I supposed to be a father if I don’t even- hah, know manners myself?”

“Exactly what m’saying.” You huff, back arching- the nubs of your nipples were all glazed with his spittle, cold against the bedroom air. And you almost missed the hot cavern of his mouth- “H-Hiromi—”

“Mhmmm…” His eyes look down at your bitten-over tits all dreamily, lashes batting. “M’here- your husband here for you, my pretty angel.”

“Just want you to- fuck!” And he’s exactly back where you want him - with his gaped maw rovering over your nipples. Kissing. Licking. Biting. Loving.

He’s paying equal attention to both, swirlin’ the hot edge of his tongue over and over each one- before popping off and sucking on the other. Right as he pummels his achin’ cock into you, he massages your tits—bulbous tip twitching each time he gnawed down on the softness of your tits, and you swear you can feel him swell just a lil’ bigger inside of you.

Your husband was just ravenous- nostrils flaring like he didn’t even need to breathe, face flushing red with exertion, a thin line of perspiration running down his forehead and he can’t even stop.

“There there—” Purring, voice thick in the back of his throat. “Does it feel just a lil’ better, sugar- these soooore pretty tits, after a long day of nursing my daughter? And you- heh, you taste like sugar.”

Your jaw drops, chin falling down to your chest- meeting Higuruma’s sultry stare dead-on. “Wh-what are you talking about, Hiromi?”

Letting his pearly white canines lightly snag on your left areola, he’s humming from the back of his throat. “S’exactly like I said- y’know I’m a lawyer, angel, I don’t mince my words…much.” Lightly snickering, he’s then sucking on your tits- trying to squeeze both pretty nubs into his mouth. “But fuck- you taste so sweet…so creamy…” Dark eyes taking over a glazed look, “-almost like…milk.”

“Milk?” 

And it wasn’t at all the first time that your husband had buried himself in the valley of your chest, sucking on your nipples like his favorite candy. But it was the first time since you’d had your daughter, considering the hectic schedule that came with raising a child- and Higuruma was positively lavishing your poor breasts with attention.

And it was the first time he’s saying that sucking on your swollen, sore nipples tasted anything like…milk.

With a hitched gasp, you’re reaching your dominant hand down and pryin’ aside one corner of Higuruma’s lips. Where he leans into the touch- where his kiss-bitten maw falls ajar for you- where he’s letting a thin stream of something milky white spill out.

“Oh- oh my god…” You breathe, “Hiromi, I’m lactating right now-”

“Mmmm—” He’s drunkenly opening his mouth even wider to lap at your overspillin’ nipples, the sappy gush of milk falling straight to his gullet. Greedy. Gluttonous. “I know.”

“Fuh-fuck!”

Because, as if it was even possible, Higuruma’s increasing the sloppy staccato of his hips. Letting his thick cock somehow swell even bigger. Redder. He was just so hungry scourin’ into every inch of your depths, pinpointing a bead of white precum for every ounce of milk that you were letting out.

A few stray trickles fall down his chin and Higuruma’s instantly darting his tongue to lap it up, not letting a single dewdrop go to waste. “Mhmmm—m’fucking you alright, sugar.” Slurring through his words, it’s almost as if he was pussydrunk and milk-drunk. “Fuckin’s what got these pretty tits all filled up with- ngh, sweet sweet milk, hm?”

“W-well-” You can’t help but arch your hips- unsure whether you wanted them away or papping! back down onto his for more, more, more. “Well, you’re right but-”

“Oh, I know m’right.” With a few more vulgar thrusts, you’re almost numb with pleasure.

Reaching everywhere - anywhere - for something like a lifeline, something to ground you to the constant bashes that Higuruma was roverin’ out on your walls. With so many veins that dappled along your sweetest spots, “You are-” Jerking, “You are and- oh, fuck, it just feels so—” Your milk coming out in streams—and fuck, the sight was just so lecherous. Higuruma gone on your cunt, gone on your overspilling tits.

“And I wonder if…” He briefly pauses in the middle of his lil’ monologue, leaving you curiously peering upwards at his hazy expression. 

Before you even know what he’s doing, Higuruma has his hands detached from one of your tits and dragging you just a few inches deeper down his throbbing shaft, all the way until the tuft of his neat curly hair scratches against your clit. A carnal itch. His baritone sounded so damn serious as he rumbles—“No running.”

You shiver, “I- I wasn’t-”

And your husband’s shaking his head, lightly tutting at the way you’d just been so far from him. “Now now, then why are you so far away—?” Higuruma’s thick cockhead flinches inside of you, making you buck away once more in surprise- “Ah ah- I said no running, angel, how m’I going to- hah, fuck you pregnant again?” Just slobbering down the peaks of both your tits, letting himself gurgle on the creamy liquid. Just choking on it- “And make you leak outta these pretty tits twofold?”

You weren’t even sure if he was making sense at this point- and you weren’t sure if you were, either. Just rounding your hips down to meet every inch of his overeager cock, “I don’t know if it even…” Before you’re looking down at the utterly feral expression of your husband once more, “Well, maybe it could work…”

“Hah-” Higuruma cracks a smirk, still unwilling to detach himself from your nipples. “-s’what I thought, my beautiful wife—now get ready- don’t run.” He has a hand ‘round your throat instantly, pinning you down. “Ngh, you taste like yer about to cum again.”

“Oh, fuck.”

.

.

.

You wake up feeling refreshed, a deep contentment in your bones that you haven’t felt in nearly forever. 

Just slowly blinking your eyes open, just lazily sinking into the soft mattress of your bed- you know instantly by the brightness that you’d slept in late. And it wasn’t just because of last night that the world seemed just a little bit brighter.

“Fuck-” You’re hissing, sitting up on the bed in a panic. There were so many things that needed to be done- for staters, breakfast, and then getting your daughter ready for her debate lessons, and then you had to kiss your husband goodbye and- “Fuck fuck fuck- fuck-” 

Nearly tripping over yourself (or maybe you do, you can’t quite keep track in your urgency) you tumble out of the bed and look over at the clock on your bedside table. 10:45AM. Why hadn’t your alarm woken you up already?!

Struggling to find your clothes from where they’d been…thrown around the bedroom, you’re just about to shrug on a robe of yours and race downstairs when-

“Shhhh, honey- don’t rattle those plates, you’ll wake mommy.” Higuruma’s calm, gentle tone speaks out - to none other than your daughter, you’re guessing. 

“Okay!” Pipes a sweet voice, a tiny rattle of plates. And you’re assuming that your husband reached over to grab them himself, because she then says- “No no, I got it, papa. It’s your off-day so you should relax, too. I wanna surprise mommy with bed in breakfast.”

“Breakfast in bed, honey.”

A/N. I would like breakfast in bed Higu smh-

Before you can even think to shrill out an answer, Toji’s squeezing his thick, reddened tip allllll the way near the back of your slick-covered walls. Just so big that you can feel the globed end of his shaft probe into your cervix, “Fuh-fuck! Again, Toji?”

“Blame the- the…” He’s strangling out a dark chuckle, scarred lips curling. And oh- to have the Toji Fushiguro stuttering? 

You had him ruined. 

“The mating press?” You’re mewling in answer. 

Only to have his entire sculptured body wrack with a visceral shiver- Toji’s hunching his weight on top of yours until you’re being crushed, until your hamstrings scream, until he’s biting his canines down on the side of your neck just to stop himself from whimpering. “Fucking love it when you s-say that, mama.”

One of his roaming hands nestles on the top of your sweaty scalp, and he grumbles, “Yeah a mating press.” Caging you in. Making you feel every tense n’ twitch of his glissading abs. “A fucking mating press. It makes me wanna fill this hah- pretty pussy with my cum up just ooooonce more.” The other still glues to your tummy, feeling for the bumpy outline of his thrusting cock. “Makes me wanna make ‘er leak.”

“B-but I’m already so full.” You’re whining out through wobbly lips, and you swear that his bulbous mushroom tip only grows fatter at the state of your voice. 

“Mmm—” You knew that lil’ hint of greed in his tone didn’t bode well. You knew that it would have his right hand pushin’ down on your stomach until he’s making his knotted white cum leak out of your pussy like a fountain. Sheening the inner parts of your cute thighs and soaking his happy trail - you just feel so filthy. “H-heh, not anymore…”

“Ngh, oh- oh my god.”

And his strokes are vulgar, like he’s knocking that weepy orifice of his against every sweet spot of yours just to fill you back up again. You were so sensitive after all these hours that only a few whack-whack-whacks of Toji’s long, vein-covered cock makes you drool.

A slimy line of pre glues right near your g-spot and makes him giggle at the mess. “C’moooon, mama, stop makin’ such a oh- mess.” Ruthless, Toji’s thumb snakes down from your temple to push between your swollen lips. “M’just trying to make sure that this…mating press really works, heh.”

Just saying those words makes his ravenous cock throb even harder - what have you done to him?

“B-but I think it already works, Toji—” Case in point; each heavy, sensual pump of his inches only makes your walls splosh ‘round with both cum and slick. Utterly full. Utterly ruined. 

“That’s cute.” He simply states, hazy green eyes on the verge of rolling. Toji plants a ruthless smack on the side of your left thigh, “Now hold up those legs f’me, doll.”

As if you could be bent even further- but Toji Fushiguro finds a way. He always finds a way. Even if his rough, knobbly fingertips are trembling as he’s gripping each underside of your legs. 

Overstimulated, Toji’s veiny biceps flex once he’s folding you straight in half with the curves of your knees hitting your tits. Your face pushing into the crook of his neck, his cock stirrin’ up your insides.

Chanting out like mantra—“Up, up, up, aaaand up-”

Jostling you around like some glorified doll, you’re sure that the globes of your ass don’t even touch the bedsheets at this point. He’s just so big that you can barely even clench - the bubblegummy texture of your walls was damn near rubbed raw on each of his prominent veins. Drilling inside over and over and over-

“Cute—soooo fuckin’ cute how she talks back.” As if to prove his point even further, Toji thumbs down your slivery slit and lets off a noisy slurp. Huffing with primal desire, “Gonna be e-even cuter when I fuck her stupid, though. When I feel- my-” Punctuating each word with a bashing strike into your depths, the flared ridge of his cockhead kisses your g-spot and you bawl. “-doll’s cervix get hit alllll the way from the back.”

Your head throws back with a pitched trill, “T-Tooooji–! Don’t talk like that…”

“Why? Feeling shy, mama?” He’s snickering, “How can you even think of feeling- fuck! shy when I have you like this? In this…this…” 

Mating press…fuck, he couldn’t even say those two words anymore. Trailing off. Eyes glazed. 

He’s jackhammerin’ the prolonged inches of his girth into you like it was the only thing he knew how to do at this point, and Toji’s tough fingerpads wield down on your pussy with a solid spank. “D’you even know what you’re doing to me?” Then he’s spanking your treacly cunt three more repeated times like it’s her fault.

“I- ngh, oh-” All that you can babble by now, your pupils are swirling in comical circles inside the whites of your eyes. 

Each one follows the crazed patterns of his crashing cocktip, bashing in the sponged layer of your cervix. Toji’s deltoids bulge as he bullies your body down just a bit further, and lets his rovering cock smooch the door to your womb—thud!

Fuck. 

Instantly throwing his hazy head back, murmuring something intelligible underneath his breath-

“Wh-what was that–?” You’re panting, eyelids fluttering as you try to steady your vision. Toji was just so pussydrunk that he could barely string together his slurring syllables, he could barely even stop the sloppy slamming of his hips to speak-

“I-I said–” Toji drawls out, and he’s bent so low in this mating press - his all-knew favorite position - that he can kiss your forehead sweetly. Whispering in your ear, “-that Shiu’s gonna be the fucking godfather after this.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Shibuya “Incident”

“Legs here and…your pretty pussy- hah- here-” Rattling off, it was almost sexily methodical the way that he was moving your shaky limbs ‘round with no strain at all. “And I’m…”

A mating press.

Nanami Kento had you pressed into a mating press- and the only thing you can do is arch your back upwards into his dewy touch- he’s just so messy like this. Glasses crushed against your body, blond hair falling over his forehead. Your husband hunches his hulking body into you so that he could suckle on your tits like his favorite candy. “Wh-why the sudden mating- ngh, press, Ken?”

“Because, please-” He doesn’t even know what he’s begging into the skin of your chest, clammy mouth gluing to the nubs of your nipples. “Please- we hafta make sure, my love.”

You’re whimpering, “F-fuck! Make sure of what–?”

And his response is muffled, pearly whites snagged on your areolas, “Have to make sure it takes.”

“Oh.”

Truthfully, Nanami had been restless. Ever since he’d come back from Shibuya all bruised n’ battered, he’d simply bent you into your marital bed and folded your legs in half like he hadn’t even realized what he was doing just yet. 

Like he couldn’t think of anything to say but a low, growling—“C-can’t even control it, sweetheart.” His handsome cheekbones blush all crimson, “Somehow I just want to get you…” Hesitating. Rugged. “-pregnant.”

Oh, he’d been struck with some sort of babyfever.

Still in the half-opened uniform of his suit, he was taken over by some sort of madness that made you trill at the top of your lungs every single time Nanami’s rovering cockhead bludgeoned against the back of your pussy. He might have been gentle, but his aching, red length surely wasn’t.

“Oh- fuck-” You’re sobbing out, legs twitching on top of his shoulders with each passing second. “Th-that explains the hck! mating press-”

“Mating press, huh?” Long, golden lashes blink up blearily at you, he was still tuggin’ on your cute nipples until the skin of your chest was all sensitive. A slight brush of his textured taste buds make you buck- and he’s only pressing a forearm to your throat. “S-so that’s what s’called.”

Naturally, Nanami was leaning his entire carnal weight on top of you until you were manhandled like some lawnchair. 

Until your feet were dangling in the air and he was pushing you into a mating press so sloppy that you’re hearing your dripping cunt squelch from below. Slurp after slurp. The reddened, globular crown of his tip nudged against your cervix and made you sob. “Like this-” Extra tight, his vein-decorated hands lace on top of your scalp. “Like this like this. Fuck! A mating press…s’like this?”

“Y-yes, ngh- oh my god-” You didn’t have enough brain capacity right now to tell him that this was more than just your average mating press. 

This pliable position had his hips spanking down on yours until the skin of Nanami’s pelvis turned red. 

He’s snapping his head down with a slight gasp at the slamming impact, molten eyes widening and widening. “O-oh.” Hard, the lines of his v-line thrash down once more. Probin’ his sultry wet tip so deep between your pussylips that you swear you can feel him enter your very lungs. “Oh, m’in love with this position. In love with how deep it makes you take me- how f-fucking tight you squeeze each time.”

Then it’s like he was insatiable - getting such a gooood look at the way your puffy folds expanded with each inch you swallowed, the way your pussy glistened with each spurt of slick, the way you quivered like you wanted more, more, more-

“Y-you’re in so deep- hck!” You can’t help but wrap your fingers into the silken fabric of your husband’s tie and tug-

And that makes him gasp, it makes him pant. Nanami’s slimy tip wallops the roof of your cunt and twitches—“Yes—!” He keens, guttural and raw. “Like that- roughen me up like that, darlin’.”

You’re gaping- because you’ve never heard your beloved husband speak to you like this before. 

He was at the mercy of your pussy.

It’s as if this all-new, lecherous position had loosened his stern mouth, and now it was slick with slobber that gushed every single time your cervix was being bruised by his impressive circumference. A thin line slips from the side of his lips that he smears between the valley of your chest.

“S’gonna take-” He hiccups, pumping you oh-so-full that your ears pop. “Gonna take gonna take gonna take- fuck! Gonna be a-all round and glowing.” Blond brows furrowing, teeth grit. “And m’gonna take suuuuch good care of you, my love. Can be the hah- pretty lil’ mother of my kids, while I take care of eeeeverything for ya.”

His crowned shaft scrapes all the way near the entrance to your womb and you find yourself seeing stars. “Sh-shit, oh, Kento-” Clawing onto his tie, the attire tightens enough to squeeze his airway and make your husband gasp-

“Mmm, spit in my mouth.”

You gape, “Wh-what-”

Oh, you couldn’t hear him? No problem - because all those years of Nanami’s battle-training goes directly into reflexively bending down, down, down until your body n’ cunt scream at the stretch.

His perspired forehead rests on yours, tonality dripping with need. “Spit in my mouth.”

And how could you not?

Not when he was asking you like that. Not when his glassy peripherals were staring into your own like he could just eat you alive. 

Nanami’s parched throat hums at the splatter of your webbed wad of saliva, wetting his taste buds properly. And once you do as he says, his roaming cock twitches- “F-feels like m’gonna cum inside.” Immediately burrowing those cracked moans of his back into your tits.

You’re whimpering, mouth lolling at the feeling of his canines gnawing your nipples raw. “Mmm, oh my god- what’s gotten into you with that today, Ken?”

“Well…” He gruffly admits, the fringes of his teeth trapping your left nipple and tuggin’, “-m’practising for when these tits have actual milk soon, my love.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - FLEXXX

“You- bend- so- well-” Your fuzzy brain barely even has the time to register Geto’s words before he’s drilling each of them in with a rough thrust of his swollen, ruby-red cock. 

Just so fat n’ aching to claim every secret ridge inside of your pussy, he’s not sunken even halfway in before he’s rutting. Furiously. Like he didn’t even care for the way his girthy length was struggling against your tight ring of muscle, Geto pushes down on the undersides of your thighs further and makes you shrill.

He’s marvelling, amethyst eyes flickering at the way this mating press had your pussy all smeared open. All ready. It didn’t matter how much your body stretched and stretched, Geto was just so strong that he had you pliably thrown around like some ragdoll. “You bend so, so well.” 

“Fuck, ngh, Suguru-”

And it was your fault - yours. You were the one to challenge him into folding you into a mating press, and he was more than happy to deliver.

In fact, Geto’s just so impatient that he’s feeling your snug hole clench ‘round his shaft and bucks- knees anchoring down on the springy mattress to get his slick length tunneling deeper. “It’s like you’re- fuck- like-”

Gaze slightly glassy. Expression slightly crazed. 

Geto has to force himself to pull out his entire sloppy cock before he can even manage to speak.

Hot breath heating up your awed features- “S’like this pretty pussy’s been wantin’ to be folded into a mating press for aaaaages, gorgeous.”

And then he’s slamming his rugged, rock-hard girth until the patterns of his veins brand on your cervix. Letting it fill you up till he’s bottomed out, Geto’s dark happy trail rubs the poor folds of your cunt raw, dragging his vulgar strokes out until you’re keening—

“Oh- oh my god-” You’re babbling, tears crinkling from the edges of your eyelids. You’re scrambling to hold onto your trembling thighs, “This position makes me feel so- so…”

“S’okay- s’okay, your Suguru has you.” He snickers from above, the contents of his sentence were gentle but the way he was saying them was utterly mean. 

Just like the way Geto was stickin’ his bulbous tip into you, pouring out drops of pre into each crevice. The squirting sensation makes your poor cunt quiver, wads of syrup oozing out of your entrance and making your pussy weep. You don’t even think twice before roaming your unsteady dominant hand down to toy with your neglected clit-

SPANK!

Only to have it swatted rudely away by Geto’s own.

“S-Suguru- what are you-” Before you know it, one of his knees comes crashing down to pin your hand to the creaking mattress. 

Leaning his weight down even more into the mating press until all the blood in your lower half was rushing to your head, “What did I hngh- tell you, gorgeous?” He purrs, lips twitching into a grin. And every massed inch of his body was collapsing into you, to further bend you cutely. Twisting his thumb ‘round to graze your perked nub, “I said I’ve got you. Look at thaaaat—I can even toy with your p-pretty clit like this, gorgeous.” 

And fuck- did he like seeing that cockdrunk expression on your face.

Did he like having your mouth drop agape with each thump-thump-thump speared way into the back of your cunt. Geto was both long and girthy, and it was maddening to have his curvaceous length molding your walls to his exact measurements - especially in this mating press, that had him filling up nooks and crannies that you didn’t even know you had. 

Your gummy walls clench like you were trying to keep him there- “A-and you’ve got me too now, huh? Locked all in this…fucking mating press- fuck!” Crazed. 

Chuckling.

You’re trying hard to whimper out a response - botched and half-nonsense at this point - when it suddenly hits you that Geto wasn’t even talking to you. 

“That’s right-” He coos, leaning even closer to hear the soft wafting squelches let out from your dripping wet pussy. “That’s right that’s right, you’ve got me- and m’- haaah- sorry for not putting you into a cute lil’ mating press earlier like you deserve.”

And you’re almost shocked because Geto rarely apologizes even to you - rather, focusing on actions and comfort than words. But right now he was pleading to your smeared-open cunt like he’d no sooner be on his damn knees.

“Because you really, really like it- don’tcha?” The sleazy smile slashed across his lips was twitchy, “Like being fucked by me with your legs up? Ngh- this lil’ position to have this cute cunt bred?”

Thrust after thrust, he’s poking your dewy insides with the length of his cock. Letting the bloated ridge of his slit scrape against your g-spot, it makes the man titter to watch you gasp. It makes him groan. It makes his own husky voice crack- “Please- please, Suguru.”

“Don’t you worry now, pretty lady.” The fatness of his thumb bullies between your folds, and before long he’s pressin’ doooown on your clit like some pretty, wet button. The motion lets out such sappy background music- “It’s all that you deserve, isn’t it? All that you- you-”

Splat—! 

You’re looking up through the long, inky strands of Geto’s hair just to find that- oh, he was tearing up now. 

The cadence of his cock was burrowing between your folds at a blurring speed, and each slight thrust with you in this position ran him ragged. Harder. Sloppier. So far gone on your softened cunt, the eager embrace of your walls was enough to make him throw his head backwards and bite down on yet another sob. 

“I-I’m always gonna put you into a mating press from now on, gorgeous.” He fucks you into the exhausted bedsprings until one breaks. Meaning it. “Always.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Fever

“Woah…I can see her so clearly like this, baby.” Choso’s mere words make him blush, a lewd scorching rouge that accompanies each flick of his gaze up n’ down your cunt. “It makes me feel…shy.”

And you can barely even breathe around the fatness of his mushroomy tip, teasingly entered between your folds. Your boyfriend lets out a low, grumbling whine just as soon as he pulls back and looks at you in all your entirety - legs on his shoulders, knees hitting your tits, pussy stuffed. 

“Oh- oh!” Choso seems to snap out of his little reverie just as soon as your hips start squirming, and he’s using his superhuman strength to clasp onto your waist and draaaag you backwards into his body. “B-but don’t worry, that doesn’t mean m’gonna- hah- stop.” He looks almost sheepish as he admits, “In fact…I don’t think I even can ngh- stop.”

And he meant it.

“Fuck- fuck, baby—” Oh, you could feel it with each punishing strike of his rock-hard length. 

Choso wasn’t even bottomed out, but you could still feel the throbbing crown of his shaft swat your inner walls. Deeper. Harder. 

With you all laid out, he could see exactly what he was doing to you - and that pretty pussy of yours. With your puffy core stretched oh-so-widely ‘round his girth, “Shit—” Your entrance glistens each time his length was mazing between your clingy walls. “Sh-shiiit, I really don’t think I can ngh- stop, baby.”

Hit after hit, the globe of your ass cheeks now felt permanently plastered to Choso’s v-line. “H-hah, guess I should mention more ‘human sex things’ more- hngh- often, huh?”

He pleads, bottom lip jutting out adorably, “My baby, if you do that I might just die.”

And Choso’s cock was looong- a pretty pink, with a few curly veins down the sides that were burrowing into your gooey walls. The weepy divot of his orifice bludgeons your cervix like his very personal target, and it makes him tug your legs further ‘round his shoulders with a groan.

“Wait, ngh, oh my-” You’re gasping for air- and you swear his strawberry tip was tuggin’ down the sides of your channel. Was growing even bigger—“Cho…” You’re tasting the familiar metallic tang of cursed energy in the air, “-your hck! Powers–!”

“O-oh, sorry, baby–” He tries to reel his hips back, watching all the while. “Let me just-”

Only to rut all the way back in again.

It’s as if he couldn’t last a single nanosecond without your dewy cunt, steadily getting addicted to the glissading texture of your walls. Choso can feel his skin spark, he can feel the way his blood manipulation technique was going out of control to hone in on the blushin’ crown of his shaft and prolong his inches.

You’re shrilling, feeling his bloated cock swell up even further inside of you. Scouring your snug folds until you nearly couldn’t even take it any more- “It’s just- just this position.”

“The…mating press?”

“Fuck! D-don’t even say the words, please.”

Harder.

Bigger - his aching hot cock was probing your deepest innards like never before. Grunting, “I can s-see you and that preeeetty pussy and- and-” Mashing the thick crown of his cockhead, he can’t control his speed. His thoughts. Not even the way he’s speaking by now. “-and I think m’addicted to mating presses now.”

In the end, the only thing you can do is open your mouth to formulate a quiet coo at your pussydrunk boyfriend- only to have him slam one clammy, open palm down on your neck to stop you from talking.

Choking you. 

“S-sorry, baby, it’s just that your pretty hck! voice makes me…” He’s trailing off with an utterly gaped maw, saliva leaking in excess from one side of his mouth. And you can feel him throb ragingly near your cervix, “-get even harder.”

Somehow managing to wheeze out, “But- ngh- I like that, Cho.” Your hamstrings ache once your ankles pull him in by the back of his sweaty neck, crushing him to you. “Like that you’re inside so deeeep.”

“You…you like it?” Another whiff of jujutsu, another few thwacks of his ever-growing cock.

“Mhm—” You jerk your hips crazily, “More-”

The only response you’re getting for the moment is Choso’s lithe, toned body bending over until his forehead plasters against your own. Staring deeply into your dizzy peripherals when he mutters, “Then- then take it. Take it all.”

It’s an orgasm you didn’t even see coming - just one, two, three sloppy thwacks of his curved cockhead against your g-spot. Even harder.

And he can see the precise moment your high takes over; with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, toes curling, mouth agape. “Oh- oh my god, nghhh, m’cumming m’cumming—Cho-!”

Having you cream all ‘round his length with your quivering walls was simply heaven. 

Each peak n’ explosion of white-hot pleasure made Choso rover his lengthy shaft, dragging out your high until your throat was hoarse with moans. And just when you thought you couldn’t be even more cockdrunk- he’s bursting into his own high.

Hard. Fast.

Stark ivory bliss flashing behind his eyelids the very second that your treacly cunt’s being painted in the same color. And it was so hot, too, practically taking over your body from the inside out with his webbed wads gluing your walls together. “O-oh.” He crouches back just a bit - for just a second - before spitting straight down your soppy slit.

It adds onto the ropes upon ropes of scalding syrup spraying between your legs, trickling down onto the bedsheets in a puddle.

“Look at that-” Choso rasps out, still jackhammering away like he would die if he spent a second without pounding you through the mattress. 

Sensually, he sticks the pulsating, reddened crown of his cock way past the line of your womb. And you’re just starting to ponder that you should ask him to fold you into a mating press more often when his voice trembles - octaves higher, cracking at the back of his throat. “Do you think it took, baby? Or…do I need to try again?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Jet TWO!

“Heh…?” Sukuna had raised an impish pink brow when you’d started describing your ideal sex position. And the longer you’d gone on, the more parched his second mouth had gotten - flicking his monstrous tongue, salivating. “Humans and their filthy creations.”

Rolling both sets of his crimson eyes, he was then easily picking you up in his arms to sprawl you across the ancient bed. 

“Oh well.” He’s forced to hunch more so than he normally would with his hulking figure, and the King of Curses is just so big that your ankles can barely even lock ‘round the back of his neck.

Two arms keeping them spread, the other two bringing your treacly cunt down to kiss his weepy mushroom tips. He grins, “Guess you’re my filthy human.”

And fuck- Sukuna would never fucking admit it, but it just felt so right to have his thick, probing cocks enter you like this. To have you so whiny and helpless pinned underneath his body, he barely even has to try to slip in a few staggering inches that scrape your walls. 

Puffy pussylips spread allll wide open by his circumferences, there was more resistance than usual and that only made it sweeter. Usually having you ride him with his sheer size meant he didn’t get to see you all squirming and bucking out-of-control like this…

Fuck- just then, Sukuna gasps.

He falters. 

Feeling his throbbing lengths spurt out in thin ribbons of ivory sap, he had barely even put it in before cumming. “Goddammit-” Grumbling, “God-goddammit, s’all because of you- because of this damn position.”

“You’re blaming that?” You’re whining, almost smugly. It feels like a whirlwind to have his dewy webs of cum swirlin’ around your insides - you’d just made the big, bad Ryomen Sukuna cum early. Just from a mating press. 

And then he’s pumping a few of his clingy ounces past your walls with a swat of his girths. Flooding your inner thighs with glistening seed that sticks to your skin, “Oh, Kuna-”

Snickering, one of his cursed fingers flick right where your throbbing cunt was all presented for him like a gift. Your lower half was just so limp that it’s all he has to do to make you gush out in a waterfall of slick - loudly. “Kehhh, like this, huh? So this ‘mating press’ is about heh- mating, isn’t it, brat?” Another one of his four hands smush your cheeks together into such an embarrassing pout, “Then you better take it like a champ, ma.”

You’re all at Sukuna’s mercy, and he was rude about it.

Using the plump, pre-sheened crowns of his cocks like headlights- each mazing pump of his girths have your walls revealing hidden nooks n’ crannies you didn’t even know existed. To fill you up. “F-fuck–!” So sloppy that the wads of his cum mix with your slick to let off slurp-slurp-sluuuurps.

“Oh? So you agree?” For a split-second, you think he’s talking to you- 

And you’re blubbering out something that halfway resembled an answer- “I- it’s-”

“Not you. Her.”

Before the cavern of his second mouth licks its lips and snickers. Sukuna stares down at your wet cunt after a few more lecherous squelches, “See? She agrees?”

Clawing down his bulky deltoids, “Fuh-fuuuuck! Just like that- just like that, Kuna—”

“Hah! The entire castle’s gonna know that they’re getting a fuckin’ heir soon, mama.” Rolling his eyes, he’s gifting your humid pussy with a few more inches. “Well…not that I mind.”

With a few more jabs until the strawberry-shaded globes of his tips were burrowing deeply into the back of your cervix with a splat. It was a stretch so good that you find yourself sobbing, your thighs twitchin’ weakly over his shoulders. You couldn’t even escape if you wanted to- 

Your chin hits the front of your chest and you sniffle, being manhandled all out of shape by his arms meant that you could see your front clearly. Especially the large, thick bulge that was taking shape. “O-oh my god…”

“Huh?” He’s catching sight of it too - that cute lil’ tummy bulge his cocks were fucking into you. Each pap! of skin-on-skin leaving your stomach all bumpy with his sheer size, “Jeez…this- this fucking position. Hell, it’s driving me crazy.”

The slivery slit of your cunt weeps the very second that Sukuna’s cursed tongue slithers out n’ laps at your pussy. Just teasing your bloated folds with the rough texture of his taste buds.

Tittering, “S’drivin’ you crazy too, huh?” Nodding along as if he was just thoroughly in conversation with your pussy, the King swats his rugged fingertips back down on your clit and watches you weep. “Yeahhh—I can tell. So talkative, mama, always so chatty when I hah- fuck you.” From both sets of your pretty lips.

And then he’s turning to you - all wrecked n’ trembling. The lengthy muscle of Sukuna’s second tongue has the audacity to trek up your body and lick at the clogged mess of drool leaving your mouth.

Sensually, lazily, he’s stirrin’ around his pummeling cocks just so. Letting wisps of cum stick against the roof of your cunt, your cervix, every spot in-between. 

Sukuna’s leaning over in the mating press to juuust let his cum-glossed tips poke against your womb, letting out such a noisy squelch from below. “Mmm.” He hums, watching as you struggle to take it all. “Y’know why she’s so chatty right- hah- now, brat?”

“Wh-why?”

“Because she know m’just getting started.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - BIG BOYYY

SMACK–!

You’re unsure who’s whining more at the feeling of Ino’s reddened, scorching hot tip spanking down between your pussylips. 

Letting the treacly syrup of your slick coat his cock till it was all glistening, he’s measuring his fat girth out against your entrance just to make sure you’d be able to take him this way. Because he usually did have you ride, maybe even a sloppy doggy once-in-a-while - but now…

“The- the tiktok said it was like this, pretty. Open those legs up wide f’me.” Your boyfriend’s announcing, throwing your legs over his toned shoulders. 

And you gawk at the way that Ino’s biceps flex as he’s holding onto both your ankles behind his neck. “And then it was like this, and…” Truly, you couldn’t forget that he was so strong- and he barely even realized it. Easily bending you in half like a pretzel, Ino doesn’t even hesitate before making the curves of your knees strike your tits, the ridges of his abs blending against your core. “-I bend you like this. All good, sweetness?”

“Y-yes— fuck!” You don’t know how you’re managing to huff out an answer- but whatever’s left of it is being thrust out of your body the very next second. 

Because Ino can’t stand a single moment seeing you all spread n’ dripping wet for him like this - not a single moment. That is, if he isn’t spreading you with all of his aching hot cock.

And before you can even register it, the probin’ crown of his length finds its way stuffed between your pussylips. Ruby-red tip disappearing past your slick hole, he’s pushing and pushing inside with a strained groan. “F-fuck. I’m not fine- oh, m’not fine, pretty- think m’losing my mind—”

“T-Taku, baby–” Your tongue salivates generously at the ridged lines of his veiny shaft, he was smearing you out so openly without even trying. “-this is called a ‘mating press’, y’know?”

You swear you feel his weepy orifice twitch straight inside you, banging against the sides of your walls filthily. “So…so that’s what it is, sweetness.” Kissing you sweetly, your lips are the perfect way for Ino to muffle his husky whines as he pumps and pumps and pumps. “Whoever created this thing is in fucking hngh- heaven- because I am.”

You’re almost feeling a giggle bubble its way up to your throat, dragging your hand through his tawny locks. “I’m sure.”

“No- no, you don’t get it, pretty.”  He’s pleading with you, almost shellshocked. 

With one hand manhandling your hips to dangle cleanly off of the mattress, the other lacing on top of your scalp to get you to look down where he was burrowing his inches. “Look at me- look at- us.” He’s hissing, hips angling each precise strike to target your sweetest spots. “I can bend you like thiiiis—”

In an instant, the hand at your scalp rovers down to your neck - and he’s draaaagging you up bodily, kissing your mouth. “Or like thiiiis-” Moaning, he’s then instantly changing the pressure on your throat to shove you down deeper into the bedsprings. Curling your spine into the perfect curvature, pinning you down with his bodyweight even further, “E-even like…this.”

He was just so trained with his moves - swift and precise through battle, but right now he was using them to ruin you. Ino was naturally chiselled; all ladder-like abs, firm arms, and a veiny v-line that were all pushing into you right now. 

And with a few more vulgar strokes, you’re yelping as he moves you around- this time, Ino has his meaty thighs coming up to cushion the sides of your hips. 

Blushin’ tip creaming down your cervix, washboard abs glissading down your front. “Oh my god-” You can feel a thrill zing through your body at the blatant show of his strength. He was manhandling you like it was nothing. “Taku- fuck fuck fuck, s’more.”

“More?” His voice cracks, his chocolate irises water at the way your velvety insides keep clinging onto him. “M-more?”

And you could’ve sworn that was a whimper.

Right before his pummeling cock was steeply slamming into you - faster, sloppier. With absolutely no care or rhythm; nothing other than the aim to stir up your insides until each nook n’ cranny was thoroughly stretched. And he was succeeding, too. 

Thrashing the globular crown of his shaft against the very entrance to your womb and hissing out–“More? S’that it? S’this more?” Voice cracked. Tone turning rugged.

“Mmm—” You cup Ino’s blushing cheeks and he whines. Just staring into your eyes leaves the bulbous end of his cockhead weepy, “Harder.”

He echoes, “H-harder?”

“Harder.” 

Grinning, and oh- Ino’s got his hands on you already. It’s like a second, animal instinct the way he’s then clawing down your inner thighs, pushing up your every limb, bending you till your joints were creaking nearly as loud as the bed was right now. 

Thrust after thrust.

He’s gluing the curvature of his mushroom tip against the spongy layer of your g-spot, hard enough that you nearly don’t hear the words that leave his mouth next-

“Next time…” Ino starts off, cute pinkish lips trembling. He stares at you with a dopey grin as his cock stretches you furiously, “-I also saw a hah- tiktok about a thing called a…full nelson, pretty.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Kitty Whisperer

“I-I’m gonna fucking purple hollow whoever came up with the fuck! mating press, sweetheart.” He’s leaning in close- leaning in until you could make out every flicker of blue lightning within Gojo’s eyes, every gleam in his peary white grin. And he hisses, “I can’t fucking stop.”

And he couldn’t - not if he even wanted to.

Though, fuck- Gojo’s thrashing the fat, bludgeoning crown of his cock against your cervix until he’s seeing stars. Until his pale v-line was rubbed all red with slamming impact - Gojo doesn’t think he’d ever want to stop.

It’s like he was in heaven with the way you’re clenchin’ around his throbbing length. Gojo was just so hard that his glazed, bulging tip was bruising your cervix.

And all you can do is drag red, red nailmarks down the expanse of his muscular back. “Oh my god-”

He hums in faux thought, though you could feel the way that Gojo’s strawberry tip was flinching in excitement near your cervix. “Mmmm, I prefer ‘Satoru’, my girl—”

“S-Satoru–!”

“That’s right-” He’s punctuating each n’ every syllable with a hollowing thud! of his shaft, voice running ragged. Pitches lilting. And there’s something in the way he looks at you with widened blue eyes that makes you think he wants to eat you alive. “-that’s right that’s right- say my fuck–ing- name.”

And the thing about the strongest was that he wasn’t just pounding you into the sagging bedsprings - right now, he was sloppily reeling his cock back allll the way until the shiny globe of his tip pulled out with dewy plops! Instead of his usually smooth thrusts- Gojo kept on pumping his long, solid inches from leaking orifice of his length right till his very base. Every single time.

It was simply driving you mad at the carnal stretch, your toes curl every time his vein-covered hilt was stretching out your entrance. “This mating press’s gonna drive me ma-mad.” He’s muttering, teeth grit against your ear. “Gonna drive me fuck! Crazy.”

And several things are happening at once - he’s thumping the spongy layer of your cervix with a particularly rough strike, and your flickering bedside lamp shatters.

“Fuh-fuck–!”

“Shit, your powers…” You’re keening at the shards of glass that are halted in midair - your husband’s limitless was covering the both of you now. “Toru, you’re going out of ngh- control-”

“And how m’I expected to stay in control, sweetheart–?” The white-haired man drawls out, almost mockingly. Pitch finding itself a few octaves higher, he’s dragging the puffy veins of his cock down your walls until you find them helplessly sensitive. 

Trying oh-so-hard to extract yourself from his merciless hold, you’re clamoring your feet off of his shoulders and bucking up the mattress like you didn’t know whether you wanted to run away or slam your hips down for more, more, more. “Not when I- oh! not when I have you like this- fuck! Not when m’fucking you like thiiiiis. You can’t expect me to stay sane when I have you in a fucking mating press, my girl.”

And if you thought that the Gojo Satoru wouldn’t notice your restless little squirming, then you haven’t been married to him long enough.

Because, before you know it, he has both hands glued to your throat pliably draaaaag your body down to thwack against his. Hard. Heaving, “Don’t you dare fucking run.” He mutters, something tremoring in his tone. “I can’t let you run when I have you like hah- this…” Squeezing his eyes shut, lightning flickering behind like it made his body ache animalistically to have you like this. “I should never have let the elders talk me into this- oh, ‘Gojo heir’ my ass- I should n-never…”

He’s trailing off- cutting himself off with a deep groan.

And you’re whining just as soon as his stirrin’ cock pokes against your womb, opening you up in ways that you never thought possible before. “Shit- b-but I like it, Toru.”

“Mmm—” Gojo’s body flinches like he’d just been shocked by a thousand volts- and it takes him a few seconds to register what you just said. “You’re so right.” Raising his bleary eyes to stare dead-on into yours, he’s musing, “Y-you’re soooo right, sweetheart. How else would you have gotten ngh- fucked like this?”

What did he mean by…?

Your husband snickers, rosy lips curling with slight smugness - and it’s only then that you’re realizing you’d just uttered that last sentence out loud. 

Almost predatory, Gojo nuzzles his nose bridge to the crook of your neck. “You wanna fuuuuck- know what it means to be put in a mating press by me, sweetheart?” Slap after slap of his bludgeoning tip left your ears popped, barely able to make out his words. “Means m’gonna fuck a baby into ya.”

“O-oh.” You gape, but the strongest wasn’t done just yet.

“Means m’gonna hngh- reach into your deepest spots.” Right on time, the fatness of his crowned shaft reaches for your cervix and then digs in deep— like he would go even further if he could. “Means m’gonna p-permanently keep ya like ngh- this. L-like—”

And then he’s drooling, mouth open and his lust-filled thoughts trailing off.

Without any warning, Gojo reaches back for a split-second to spit down to your leaking slit. Looking through his long ivory lashes as you gasp, “Don’t act like you don’t like it, my girl.”

“I do I do–” You nod your head fervently- or maybe it was the sheer driving force of each of his thrusts. If it was even possible, your ankles are locking even further surrounding the perspired back of his head. Bliss seeping into your veins. “I like it s’much, want it even more, Toru.”

That renders him speechless. It renders him gawking down at you.

The only thing that Gojo can do is stroke his throbbing cock down your tight channel with drill after drill, “Oh my god-” He’s whispering to himself, pounding into you so hard that your ass cheeks were being pushed cleanly off the bedsheets by now. “Oh my god oh my hah-” 

He’s darting his eyes down to take but a single glimpse of you - all folded in half into his mating press - then averts his gaze the moment his skin starts to prickle with cursed energy. 

“What the…having you like this—” He couldn’t even look at you. “How m’I supposed to even go on?”

The ball of tightness at the pit of your stomach makes you shiver, “Ngh- oh my god…mm, Toru-”

In sensual synchronization with the glutinous swipes of his cock, he’s setting one hand free from your throat. Thumping it against his temple as if to knock some sense back into him- “I-I think m’going insane.” Breathily, he shakes his head, eyes now finally daring to look back at you. “Think m’getting new powers- think she’s…” 

His mouth falls open at the sudden squelch letting out from your soppy pussylips, his dazed eyes focus so intensely that you can feel cursed energy sweep your body. Taking over. 

Until he’s finally muttering, “Y’know what she’s oh- saying to me, sweetheart?”

“What?” You whine, your primal greed getting to the best of you. And now the only thing you can do is perk your hips up to match his feral cadence.

And Gojo cracks such a dangerous, pussydrunk grin. “She says we’re gonna make a baaaaaby—”

With a final, solid spank of his rovering cock, you’re getting run over by your high. And he knew this would happen - he saw it with the power of his Six Eyes - so Gojo wastes no time ramming you through your peaks.

“Cum—ing…” The spheroid end of his shaft makes your toes curl, caressing your every deepest inch through each white-hot spark of pleasure - so hard that your husband barely even realizes when he, too, crashes into his orgasm.

Something bursts. 

Collapsing onto your body with his hulking one, grunt heaving after each splat! of wadded cum leaking into your womb.

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck fuck-” He’s damn-near whimpering in your ear, and the angular position of the mating press made it easy for him to pump your cunt full with as many ounces of seed as possible. Enough so that you’re just spilling ivory syrup from your entrance, forming a ring of sap on his base. “Ohhh yeah, oh yeah, sweetheart.”

Gojo feels the warm, knotted mess and twitches- the bedroom lights had shattered but he could still see. In fact, the entirety of Tokyo didn’t have power right about now. 

He gives an experimental thrust and listens for the sluuuurp- “D’you think if I cum in you again our baby’s gonna be twice as strong, my girl?”

“…”

A/N. I thought I was soooo funny for that jet two joke-

Perhaps expected considering that the two of you had met just a few weeks ago; you’d announced to your council that you were ready for marriage. And they’d then presented you with a list of all the potential candidates for husband—every eligible bachelor from the Kamo clan to the rather obscure Fujiwara clan. The list had gone on and on with their names and ages.

And at the very end you’d spotted—

Zenin Toji—Age: 38 (once divorced). 

As soon as the elders had noticed you focusing on that one name, they’d dismissed you with a nervous chuckle. “Oh, that’s just Toji. Ignore him, he’s just there out of obligation-”

“But why would I ignore him?”And that had effectively shut them up.

Although what you really wanted were more answers.

Toji.

Toji.

Most of the other candidates ranged across their twenties, and they were names you’d heard of in mere passing during those stuffy clan functions. Toji, however, was beyond that age range and once divorced—and you’d heard of him almost too well. You knew him without ever knowing him.

You’d heard of the newly-appointed Zenin clan leader as he fought against every single elder to claim his rightful title as head - the first one since…ever without a speck of cursed energy.

You’d heard of the terror of the Zenin clan - or so they whispered - who could bring down battalions with a single swipe of his cursed weapons. He didn’t need cursed energy—and what they feared above all was the power of raw humanity underneath it.

But…you’d also heard of the merciful man. The first Zenin clan leader to grant his wife a divorce when she wished for it, thus leaving him printed once more upon a paper listing jujutsu society’s bachelors. 

Leaving him impressioned in your mind.

Zenin Toji was an enigma you wanted to understand.

And you laughed at the expressions upon your elders’ faces as you announced that the sole candidate you were interested in was none other than the notorious Toji. You could count on one hand how many had readily agreed to your union with the older man—and that would be exactly zero fingers. 

However, the meeting had proceeded as tradition dictated. Your council of elders reached out to the uptight council of the Zenins - and they’d reached out to re-confirm thrice that the man you were really looking for was Toji. Wasn’t he much older? Wasn’t he fearsome? Wasn’t he difficult to understand?

You waved off their worries and met him over a fragrant tea ceremony. 

To be quite honest; there wasn’t much talking between the two of you - although the Zenin elders kept up a constant stream of chatter with the elders of your own family. Meanwhile you simply looked at Toji over the rim of your ceramic cup—and—watched—

And he met your gaze just as intensely.

By the end of the tea ceremony, you nudged your elders to proclaim your approval for a union.

And Toji nodded his own approval.

The wedding preparations were accomplished in a week. It was a wedding for the history books - you heard that your council of elders were pushing to get it written in already - and it ended off with a lavish banquet that lasted into the long, long hours of the night. 

As sunlight started seeping into the horizon, you and Toji got up from your seats at the head of the table. And you made your way to the master bedroom—where rows upon rows of elders sat outside in preparation for the consummation.

They were here to hear you-

“Fuck.” You can’t stop the sudden whimper that escapes you at the feeling of Toji hiking up one of his muscular thighs. He still had his wedding robes on - dishevelled upon his frame, the graze of expensive Zenin cotton n’ silk makes you shiver—

And as soon as you do, you feel one of his large palms settle at the base of your spine.

Toji keeps you pinned down - deliciously helpless - once he reaches that upright leg forwards and rests his heel atop your scalp. Stepping on your sweaty crown. Keeping you pinned in one place as he fucks you- with a sheer audacity that makes your jaw drop.

“Careful.” Toji’s low tone trundles out. You’re bent into such a shape that it makes his cock thicker- stretchin’ out your snug channel with a sultry squeeeelch! “Keep your mouth open like that and you’ll catch flies.”

Leaning down as far as he could, he then spits.

“Or you’ll catch me.”

A few more vicious strokes that leave you gaping.

A few more changing angles- Toji was the type to not just straightly thrust. He was stirring his cock ‘round in somewhat circular motions of his hips as he pummeled inside, managing to hit eeeeevery single nerve-ended spot inside you. “And- hah, and we wouldn’t wanna explain that to those old toads, heh?” Asking you. And then…not you. “Isn’t that right, fuckers?”

There’s restless murmuring from outside. 

“W-well, maybe if you—fuuuuuck.” Just as soon as you’re mid-sentence - as though Toji had been waiting for this exact moment - he reaches forwards and slams! his ruddied tip into you hard enough that you can feel him in your damn throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” 

“Loud.” Scoffing. “Though I bet they already know what’s happening- hah.”

You were in utter shambles. 

Toji’s cock was sensually curved towards the right - the perfect angle to spot those areas where you were most sensitive and stimulate them until you were crying. “Y-you’re so shameless—!”

With a roll of his forest-green eyes, the clan leader crouches his body further forwards and accelerates his pace. His heel pressing down even harder.

With this position he had you in, Toji couldn’t keep his palm glued to your drivelling maw anymore. And he was letting it aaaaaall out—the more n’ more pretty moans that were leaving you, the more he’s speeding up his hips. Purposefully thumping his blushin’ red tip down your most precious spots. 

And as if that wasn’t enough, he’s using his free hand to sift apart your stuffy pussy. Pressin’ aside your folds and getting a good eyeful of your entrance - getting flooded with his rock-hard inches, and then emptied out for him to do it all over again. And again. And again and again and—“And who was it that decided to marry me?”

You don’t know what’s hitting you harder: the shock of being called out, or the sudden wad of saliva that he’s spitting between your legs. “Well…me…”

Toji nods. “Pretty young thing like you…for what reason could you want to marry- me-” Every space between his words was punctured with a targeted strike to your g-spot. “Money? Name? Power?”

Your head’s getting foggy - you don’t even realize that you’re drooling before Toji looks down and tuts. He watches as a slick puddle formulates underneath you—“Did you wanna marry this ol’ clan leader for power, doll? S’that what you wanted?”

As much as you could, you’re shaking your head- difficult, given the way he still had the heel of his foot on you.

“No? Then what?” Toji pretends to think. “Hmmm, could it be that your clan elders pressured you into this, doll?” And just at that moment, he stops- even though it seems as if he wanted to say more. “I’ll kill you all if—”

It wasn’t targeted towards you. 

But you’re vehemently denying—“No. No. Not at all…” Sobs and sultry moans strangle in your throat, and your poor, poor hips are driving back into his as much as you could. “Please- oh, I j-just wanted—”

“Let me think.” Now that he’d started his vigorous pace up again, your eardrums were crackling with the constant pap-pap-pap! of Toji’s toned hips hitting yours. He was just so large - in every possible way, it was as though he was engulfing you with his massive body, with his shaft stretchin’ out your insides in ways you’ve never experienced before. “Is it because- haaaaah…” Toji breathes, the cloud of his heated breath wafting down your arched spine. “Is it because you knew that those other- boys couldn’t fuck you as well as I could?”

Your jaw drops- “Fuck.”

But it seems that Toji had found his footing. He drags you even harder against him - the ramming of your two bodies almost violently shaking the flooring beneath. “Is it because you knew that- mmm, this pussy would always be satisfied with me?” Whatever little jostling you’re experiencing at his movements, he’s considering it a nod. “Is it because you’d been greedy? Because you’ve been yearning-”

Somehow, he’s tipping his head backwards and managing to perfect a stream of spit down onto your stuffed cunt.

“-for someone more mature. Someone that knows how to handle a pussy, doll?” Voice dipped in lust. “Have you been yearning for Zenin Toji to fuck you properly?”

“Y-yes—” You pitch out softly. Sniffling. Seeing stars behind your eyelids. “Toji, m’so close…”

“So cum, then?” He snickers, as though it should be the most obvious thing in the world. “What’re you waiting for? Permission?” Leaning back and projecting his voice - though, not for you. “Just so y’know, I’m gonna make my wife cum.” 

“Oh-oh my god—” The words crackle in your throat as a final bash to your syrupy-sweet spot leaving you careening into your high. Stars of pleasure burst behind your shuttered lids - and you’re dragged through wave upon wave of white-hot bliss. 

It overtakes you like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

And Toji was only more than happy to prolong them using his length. Hitting you right when your peaks were at their highest - and if you were in the right state, then you’d wonder how he even managed to time them - and making your veins feel molten within. Making you whimper and thrash into him. Thrashing and thrashing—fucked like you’ve never been before through your orgasm.

You’re so hazy afterwards that you barely even register the shuffling outside the bedroom - as the elders started making their way back to the banquet. Mission accomplished, you suppose.

And Toji takes his foot off your head. 

“Haaaaah, fuck.” He hisses. “Want to give them an encore, my wife?”

You couldn’t nod faster.

Before you know it, he’s tipping his head back and calling out - at the elders—

“Get ready for an encore, fuckers.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Parent-teacher DATING?!

“Ms. Teacher…” 

Itadori’s sweet, sweet voice breaks through your conversation with one of the parents; and you’re looking down to see him clasping one end of your flower-patterned apron. Pink brows furrowed. Chubby cheeks puffed. And how could anyone resist that face?

So throwing an apologetic smile at the parent, you’re leaning down slightly so that you could hear the little boy better. “Yes, Yuji?”

He cups a hand over his mouth then leans in towards your ear as if to whisper. “I have a secret to tell you.” And he does not whisper.

Still, you bite back a giggle and ask. “Oh, really? How exciting. Do I get to know that secret, Yuji?”

He nods.

Then leans in once more-

“My papa has a big, big crush on y-”

“Yuji—!”

You didn’t have to look up to see that it was none other than Nanami Kento, Itadori’s father, pushing past a few gossiping parents and kids playing jumprope- heading in your direction. He quickly clasps Itadori’s arm and gently tugs the boy away, “I am so, so sorry—I have no idea what’s gotten into him-” Nanami pinches the top of his nosebridge with a sigh. “He seems to have gotten it into his head that I have f-feelings for you, and…”

You watch, almost astounded, as the ever-stoic Nanami’s ears burn bright red.

“A-and I sincerely apologize if he made you uncomfortable in any way-”

“Oh, no.” You’re raising your hands up and fervently shaking your head. “He didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. Did you, Yuji?”

“Yup!” Those tufts of pink hair atop his head bounce as he nods as well, beaming - happy to see that you were on his side, at the very least. He then turns back to Nanami. “I didn’t make Ms. Teacher uncomfortable, papa. I just told her what you told me-”

“Sunshine…” Nanami grumbles, though with less panic in his voice this time.

And you’re biting back a smile as you look between the handsome father and his son; it’d been two years since Nanami had adopted Itadori, according to what the man had told you when he’d first enrolled the boy in Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary. Since then, you’ve had the privilege of watching over the father-son duo as they become closer, as they found family in one another, as they opened themselves up to both the school and you. 

And although you knew you shouldn’t have favorites as a teacher - you can’t deny that one of the best parts of your day was seeing the two. 

Yes, the two.

It didn’t quite help that Nanami Kento was the talk amongst the single ladies and men at pick-up. Tall. Tender. With his broad shoulders and his blond hair—always slicked back, not even a single strand out of line. 

Nanami was the type of man to hold doors open for students, other parents, and teachers alike - he’d happily stand there for half an hour as an entire grade passed by, if he had to.

Nanami was the type of man to not worry about what anyone thought of him as he let his energetic son paste stickers all over him, or use the play make-up he’d snagged from Kugisaki.

Nanami was the type of man to buy you a large bouquet of roses for Teacher’s Day- roses. And he’d apologized for at least fifteen minutes about not meaning any sort of innuendo, and he’d completely understand if you didn’t want to take them—you’d cut him off then n’ there by taking them with a gracious thank you. Even if others at pick-up shot you knowing smiles. 

So could you blame yourself if you happened to form a crush on the man?

And hearing what Itadori had to say about it now…

“I wouldn’t mind, y’know.” You speak once you’d ushered Itadori to play with some of his friends—Fushiguro and Kugisaki had just been dropped off. And Nanami was still standing next to you, watching as his son scampered off after causing perhaps the most chaos he’s ever experienced in his life. 

But ah…your voice was low enough that it couldn’t be heard by anyone around you two. Perhaps not even Nanami himself- but of course, he heard.

Of course, he heard.

He turns to you with widened eyes, “I uh…I- excuse me?”

You turn back to him with a grin, “How about coffee sometime this week?”

“I have a better plan.” As soon as the first bout of shyness wears off, he’s clearing his crackling throat and answering you. “How about dinner?”

.

.

.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuh-fuck.” Nanami wrenches between clenched teeth. His hot breath sticks against the side of your throat; and every single puff makes your skin erupt with perspiration. 

Which worked for him—it just let the movements between your two ravenous bodies proceed even faster, slipperier, sloppier. Nanami has you pressed flat against his neat mattress, in a bedroom that was humble and meticulously organized - and with Itadori at Fushiguro’s for a sleepover, the two of you could let those ancient bedsprings creak as much as they liked. 

Nanami could fuck you as hard as you liked.

He’s grinding that golden happy trail into your front; both palms pressed flatly atop your inner thighs to keep them open. To keep you stretched as faaaaar apart as you could go—because fuck- Nanami’s cock was thick enough that he had to pin you down n’ squeeeeeeze his inches inside as far as they could go. 

Rubbin’ his prominent veins along your walls. Entire body tensing up whenever you clench-

“Fuuuuuuck.” With a heavy sigh, he’s letting his head tip backwards. And honestly—you don’t think you’d ever seen a more attractive sight. 

You’ve always known that Nanami was ripped underneath those office button-ups of his - but this was damn-near Herculean. The way his shoulders were defined and pulled taut as they closed in on you, the way his chest was absolutely luscious—you almost wanted to take a bite. And you’d guessed that with energetic Itadori as a son, he hadn’t had the time to hit the gym lately.

Because there was a layer of thickness over his muscles that left Nanami softer and stronger- the soft curve of his belly pushes down on your core. 

Jostling your body back n’ forth with every honed thrust.

Banging at the back of your cervix and your throat- “Fuck. It feels so good, Kento.” 

“S-soooooo fucking good.” And you wonder which one of you two was more gone on your syrupy cunt: you or him. Nanami struggles to keep his damn head up- collapsing into the crook of your neck and letting out botched groans- every single time his sensitive tip slid uuuuuup your channel into its deepest depths. He almost sounded as though he was in pain as he wept—“F-forgive me, darling.”

Perking your head off the plush pillows, “What for, Kento?”

“Well it’s just…” And his foggy glasses were still on his face - which Nanami pushes up his nose bridge. “I haven’t felt this good in—forever. So forgive me if I’m a little…”

And then he’s surging his hips forwards and giving you a good thwack! with the rounded end of his shaft. Enough to make stars appear in your vision-

“-rough.”

And then it’s like the floodgates have opened.

Because Nanami’s grip on you grows hard enough to leave fucking nail marks, his sweat splashes with the urgency of his movements. “And I wanted to f-fuck you all niiiiiice and slow like this pretty pussy deserves.” Those strong arms keep manhandling you open as he shovels straight into you. “W-wanted to show you that a mature man like me could- hngh, make you feel the best you’ve ever felt.”

“But I already do…” You huff out, arms thrown needily around his neck. 

Yet Nanami doesn’t seem to hear—he doesn’t even seem to register. At least, the only acknowledgement that you get of your response is the way his body flinches ever-so-slightly at the mere sound of your voice. “And yet…” Those hazel-brown eyes of his widen as they run down your body, ultimately resting where your pussy was bloated all ‘round him. “And yet, one kiss of these pretty lips and I’m done for.”

“D-done for…” You repeat - mostly because you don’t know what else to do.

Don’t know what else you’re capable of doing other than wrapping your weak legs around his waist. Your hamstrings stretch and scream; and you’re sobbing yourself as his pace seems to accelerate.

“I can feel myself…” Nanami speaks through a watery mouth. “-getting fucking addicted—shit, like some hormonal punk. I should know better. A man my age…”

“Oh- oh, Kento.”

“I should know better- I should fucking know better.” He admonishes himself - though that doesn’t stop or even slow down the feral pap-pap-paps! of his pelvis hitting yours. Through scrunched-up eyes, he’s gazing upon you. “C-can’t believe you got some old man like me-” Despite your instant protests. “-to finally break.”

After a few more sudden strikes - almost animalistic - you’re managing to string together enough syllables. “But…I don’t mind, Kento.”

And that—that might just be the one thing that makes him falter. “Pardon?” He blinks up at you with glazed-over eyes.

Nodding, “I promise I don’t mind.” In fact, you’re tugging him in with a fistful of his blond strands between your fingers. “I- ngh! want you to go even harder…if you can-”

“Of course I can, my love.” The both of you are startled by his instant answer. “I-I mean, if you know that it means I might leave a few marks and—even more marks.” Perhaps most notably on your spongy cervix, welcoming his bashing thrusts.

But you don’t mind. Like you said.

You’re nodding even harder, “Yes, please.”

So polite. How could he ever refuse?

And in the blink of an eye, the blond-haired man leans over to clasp that patterned tie draped over his bedpost. It’d gotten thrown there sometime after the frenzy of getting home - quite convenient for when Nanami wanted to throw it loosely over his clammy neck and give you the other end to hold onto—

“Don’t be afraid to pull if it gets too much.” He puffs out at you in a breezy breath.

“Too much?” You ogle up at his handsome face. You half-jokingly wondered whether the bed - and perhaps you - would be in one piece by the time that Itadori gets home tomorrow. It was going to be a never-ending night…

“Mhm, because this is going to be rough, darling.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Controversy.

WHO IS ROCKSTAR HEARTTHROB GETO SUGURU’S GIRLFRIEND? HOW CAN WE BE HER?!

GOLD DIGGER?! BASSIST OF 6EYES SHUTS DOWN MALICIOUS RUMORS SURROUNDING BEAU: SAYS THEY ARE ‘BULLSHIT’. 

DILF OFF THE MARKET: GETO SUGURU CONFIRMS RELATIONSHIP OF ‘YEARS’ HE SAYS. 

Everyone knew of Geto Suguru. Or so it seemed when they were screaming his name and cursing yours—everyone wanted to be with him. 

Or be him.

Who wouldn’t? Thick rings. Grey-black hair. Feline smile.

A 6’2, long-haired dreamboat that just-so-happened to be the bassist of the hottest rock band on the charts right now: 6Eyes. They’d been discovered quite early on - when they’d just been out of high school, actually - and had maintained a steady presence in the music scene ever since. Shattering record after record and filling stadium after stadium. By the time you’d gone with some of your college friends to one of their concerts, they were already titans in the industry—and you’d been an instant fan. 

So imagine your surprise when your friend announced that one of the security had invited your group backstage. 

That was the night you’d met Geto Suguru - you’d locked eyes and the both of you had just known.

You signed that NDA. You met for dates under disguises. And you’d even met his young adopted daughters- oh, you adored them.

Several months later, when TMZ or some other site had broken the story of Geto secretly dating a fan over ten years younger than him - and that was when scandal ensued. The fandom was rabid—and you understood.

Though Geto, who was rather used to biting headlines and speculation, told you that the whole thing would blow over soon enough- you holed up in your shared penthouse. You turned off your social media notification. You tried not to turn on any celebrity news channel. 

And you decided: the very least you could do is make a good first impression…

“Easy now…easy there…” Geto holds the recorder in one hand n’ the side of your hips in his other. You’re maddeningly aware of both the rolling tape and the way his puckered, pretty tip is getting guided to your entrance—“Don’t strain yourself now. Trust Suguru.”

Just the very first inch of it slipping lusciously between your pussylips and easing inside.

Geto was always so thick, donning numerous veins that creep up the sides of his shaft in zig-zagging patterns. And the sheer girth of him intruding is enough to make you gasp-

“Mmm, that’s good.” The older man murmurs with a smile- long, greying hair forming a curtain around the two of you. “Let’s try again. A little louder this time.” Before he reels his hips back the mere inches he’s squeezed inside, and then rammin’ right back in again - it sounds the loudest squelch! as you’re taking even more of him. “Ohhhh, that’s good. Maybe I can use that as the outro, heh?”

“Maybe just use it for the entire ch-chorus.” You hiss.

“Trying to take my spotlight?” Geto leans down to kiss your swollen lips- or so you think. He’s pressing his pierced mouth against yours and gnawin’ down on your lower lip.

“Scared of- mmpf. Scared of being ousted by the young new talents?”

The edges of his lips curling upwards. “A rock veteran like me? Oh, I don’t think I have anything to be scared of…”

And you can only moan straight into his greedy, greedy maw as you’re jostled back and forth. Geto’s thrusts were oh-so-merciless and puncturing deeeeep into your womb—using the smooth Prince Albert’s piercing atop his flared tip, he’s torching every hidden spot and nerve-end inside. Mazin’ around your walls and pushing into those little ridges that just made your back arch into him-

His eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles. 

“Hey hey-” The only thing snapping you out of your frenzy is Geto’s sharp tuts. He stalls your restless hips by hooking his fingers into your thighs and throwing them over his broad shoulders- dragging you back into him. “Don’t run away, gorgeous—the studio session’s not over yet.”

“I wasn’t running away.” You huff.

“Sure seemed like it to me.” He grins - that silver piercing of his glinting in the dim lighting. It was the type of Cheshire-cat grin that you knew wouldn’t bode well for you…and as soon as you’re thinking about it, Geto opens his sensual mouth and spits—straight between your lips.

The wad lands softly on your tongue.

And Geto himself reaches a second ringed hand up to close your jaw- to urge you to swallow. “Remember to keep those vocals hydrated, gorgeous. We’re getting to the good part now.”

You think you could gasp at the audacity—but what’s leaving you instead are a series of long, lewd moans. Mewls. Pleas. 

He’s drawing them out over and over again by hiking your thighs up his shoulders and pressing you into a mean mating press- lunging his body down into yours. Crushing your pliable self underneath him. Slashing your cervix with loooooong thrusts and his ropey precum puddling sweetly at the back of your pussy.

“Yeah- yeah, louder now.” Pushing the recorder even closer. “Louder, girl.”

“I am—oh.” With the way he was fucking you like he almost hated you - though it was rather the opposite - your sentences warble with hiccups and gasps. The lines of his veins were somehow massaging the exact hidden spots that drove you wild. 

“You got this.”

“Fuck-”

“Louder. S’just you and me.” This was exactly what he wanted to hear - his favorite melody was you. “Just a bit of chopping up n’ remixing- this is perfect. Gonna sound so fuckin’ pretty to my bass.”

“Fuh-feels so good-”

“Mhmmm, I know, gorgeous. Now let the listeners know.” 

Making your noise pitch upwards in volume. 

After a few more strokes, he bores down at you with a thoughtful expression. “Now…why don’tcha try calling me ‘Sugu’ for the recording?”

“You want me to be sappy? Okay, rockstar.” You’re unable to bite your tongue fast enough- though your snapping only makes him even more excited.

Amethyst eyes glistening. “Oh, don’t be a diva just yet, newbie.” The older musician brings the audio recorder closer to catch your every breath, “Trust me. I’ve been in this industry for a loooooong time- c’mon now. Listen to your- heh, vocal coach—say ‘Sugu’.”

How you loved riling him up just as much as he did to you. “Then give me something good to moan for, baby.”

“Don’t test my patience, superstar.”

Though he does as you say. 

You should have expected it all the same; the rockstar had mapped out every single good spot inside you. And it was with a near-photographic memory that he’s inching his length backwards- until it was just his lavish red tip lickin’ up your entrance.

Just for a second…just for two…

Before slamming into your g-spot so hard n’ suddenly that you almost sob.

Making your cunt mold to the exact texture of his circular piercing- hitting your sensitive area first, before then pushing his smooth tip into it as well. You’re feeling every bit of him—and you’re making sure that your future audiences can hear it, too. 

“S-Sugu—!” You’re thrashing in his arms- and he’s crashing and crashing his hips into you. Gluing the heated, stinging pink skin of his pelvis against yours so ferally that you can’t keep up with his pace no matter how fast you’re attempting to buck and bounce.

“Oh, that one’s going in the intro for sure.” He titters. 

“S’fucking mean.” You whimper as he pushes down on your lower half - purposefully, so that his scruffy happy trail scratches your clit.

“Sugu knows best.” So sweetly, he kisses your forehead—and you wonder whether the loud smacking sound that he leaves behind is more for the recorder or to make you squirm. Shy, much? “Now how about I fuck you pregnant n’ we just announce the baby on the album?”

You pause for a second - before a smile twitches at your lips. “A rockstar baby? You read my mind.”

He reciprocates. “Always knew you were made f’me.”

The headlines were sure to love this.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - MY UNCLE’S GF?!

Someone had suggested playing two truths and a lie:

You weren’t a lot older than Choso- at least in his eyes. That didn’t matter to him.

Choso has always wanted you.

He’s over that now, though.

Choso’s palms are sweaty ‘round his lightweight beer as he utters the words; words just a little louder than he intended them to be. Maybe that was the pre-game finally kicking in—but he couldn’t blame it on that, either. Had it been called three truths and a lie, then Choso would have also confessed that he was stone-cold sober as he murmurs two of his deepest secrets to the little circle of drunk college kids. 

And you.

You…you’re looking at him like you’d already guessed he’d say that.

Had he really been that obvious? Choso first met you three years ago, during his sophomore year in college, when he’d gone home for the holidays—and discovered that, this year, Sukuna had been dragged home, too. Except…his uncle hadn’t come alone this time.

He’d brought along- you. 

You were the one to greet him at the door—and Choso remembers his breath catching in his chest. He remembers feeling his heart bang against his ribcage. He remembers his eyes widening- and his mouth gaping stupidly as you introduced yourself.

So caught up in you, he’d been forced to ask Sukuna for your name again-

“Back off.” His uncle had scoffed, crimson eyes narrowing. Honestly - Ryomen Sukuna was the only person alive that could make cotton candy-pink hair look intimidating. “Don’t think I don’t see the way yer looking at her.”

He’d probably stammered something intelligible-

“Look all ya want- if she feels uncomfortable, she’ll thump ya herself. But you can’t touch.” Sukuna set his beer bottle down. “M’actually serious about this one.”

And Choso could see why - you were the first person that Sukuna had ever brought into the Itadori family home. You were smart. You were funny. You weren’t afraid to put the pink-haired man in his place. You were fucking gorgeous—

And…you were Sukuna’s girlfriend. Ten years older than Choso.

Which is why - no matter how badly you made his heart flutter - Choso had vowed to never, never so much as even think to act upon his feelings for you. 

He just had to grit his teeth and avoid prolonged conversation with you during every family function and gathering you attended with Sukuna- of which the man was making an appearance at every single one now. Almost as though to provoke him even more. 

And Choso was forced to make peace with the fact that he’d never make peace with his feelings.

That is…until the two of you broke up.

He’d heard news about it just a few weeks ago, actually- his father had said something about Sukuna being down in the dumps after you’d broken up with him. Something about not making enough time and drifting apart—Choso hadn’t heard the details, he’d been too overwhelmed with the guilty glee that’d shot through his body and made his heart pound. And then just tonight - oh, how he wished he could kiss whoever was looking down at him (but no, that was saved for you…) - Choso just-so-happened to run into you at the bar he was attending with his friends.

So of course he had to invite you over to their table.

Of course, he had to ignore your protests about being older than them all. None of that shit mattered. 

Of course, he had to sit right opposite you on the table and divulge his greatest secret - one he’d been keeping to himself for three years now.

You’re just opening your mouth to respond-

When Choso’s feeling a harsh smack! on his back and one of his friends crowing in his ear. “Atta boy! You never struck me as the type to like MILFs, man.”

“Technically I’m not a MILF yet.” You giggle, fixating your gaze upon him. He almost flinches. “But you’re right…I never thought you’d be the type to like older women. I’m ten years older than you, Choso, you know that right?”

Choso mumbles almost too quietly to hear. “Th-that doesn’t matter to me…”

“Yeah- and you’d probably like that ‘ma’am’ shit, eh?” His friend guffaws, making the now-bashful Choso - whatever courage he had liquified - duck his head. “Oh- sorry I didn’t mean—”

“No, no.” You dismiss the babbling college boy. “I’m not offended at all. In fact, you might be right.”

The table bursts into wolf whistles-

And it’s a blur until you’re ragging with the banter a little more - before discreetly excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Choso’s staring up at you - totally not admiring your back like some pathetic lovesick fool - before catching your gaze and your pointed wink.

And then he’s scrambling right after you. As discreetly as a sledgehammer.

.

.

.

Nose buried into the crook of your neck. Mouth gaped wide open- letting out the sweetest crackling moans into your skin. 

Choso had you pushed against the bathroom stall - clean, don’t you worry - with his arms wrapped around your body n’ his cock shoved between your legs. Dragging in and out in a way that was so messy—he’s roverin’ around his globules of cum with that fat tip of his, and then reeling his hips rapidly backwards to spray it down your walls over and over.

He’d cum as soon as he’d put it inside.

And it wasn’t his fault.

Honest! 

“Oh- oh.” And now he was panting desperate breath after breath between thrusts—“I’m sorry…the condom broke, baby.” Choso’s lower lip cutely trembles as he speaks. “Can’t help it. And then your pussy’s just so warm and welcoming a-and…”

His breath hitches as he hits that one gluttonous spot that makes you clench.

“-and I just- can’t- when you’re squeezing me like that.”

Basically hypnotized, Choso’s slender fingers dip down between your legs. And so swiftly - that you’re almost surprised at his nimbleness - he pulls out of your wet hole n’ clasps his hand around his barely-wrapped length. The rubber condom had been too tight around him, and it’d shattered into a million pieces—Choso looks up at you through his doe-like lashes, and waits until you’re nodding.

That’s when he’s wringing off his broken condom and squeezing out whatever wetness it held. Pushing out the cum back onto your pussy. 

Making such a mess. 

Those pure-white droplets that end up splattered back down on your pussy- warm and utterly unwholesome. A sinful cover. He wasn’t leaving a single ounce wasted. “Sh-shit.” Choso’s mouth gapes wide open. “It’s all your fault…”

Just the cutest trickle of saliva makes its way down his lips - and you’re reaching upwards to wipe it away. “Awwww. Ever done it raw before, Cho?”

After a brief bout of hesitation, he shakes his head.

“I’ve never done it before.” He confesses. Your eyes widen, so he was a virgin…

“Then are you sure you can handle it, baby? No need to push yourself if-”

“No.” He gasps. Sharp. Shot-through. It leaves his lips before he even knows what’s happening- and then you’re clenching again in a way that makes his brows twist together, and his fingers dig into your waist. “No, no, no, no-” Eyes frenzied. “We don’t have to stop f’me, baby. We don’t even have to slow down—”

Cum-coated; his thickened cock gets sandwiched between your lips then jerked back and forth a few times. By now he was so wet with slick n’ sap that it was making him slip a few times before he’s actually managing to get it in again—and that, too, with your help. 

You reach down to help grip Choso’s raging-hot erection, and guide it inside your cunt: an action that leaves the other man blushing down to the roots of his hair. Even his tip throbs just a little harder—“Th-thank you, ma’am.”

Your brows raise in amusement- and it only hits him then. So he was into the ‘ma’am’ thing.

“I mean- baby.” He sounds so utterly ruined. “Thank you, baby. Promise I can handle it now, m’kay?”

And oh…you can’t deny that it was just so fun to tease him. “Hmmm…I dunno, Choso-”

Chocolate-brown bangs sticking to your skin, he’s lurching his face away to bore straight into your eyes. “I-is it because I’m younger?” He asks with a hint of desperation, and your lips part as your ex’s hot nephew keeps steamrolling away with his pussydrunken mouth. Poor, poor Choso. “Because I promise I can handle it. I can fuck you- ngh, the best. Promise m’gonna make you feel sooooo—”

Choso’s hips were hammerin’ away at a pace you’d never have suspected- and his hips end up crushed against yours. So close that the scruff of his happy trail scratches your clit raw.

“-g-good.” A single tear track runs down his face - you’re unsure whether he’s talking about you or himself.

“Easy there, tiger.” You’re pushing back on a stray lock of his hair- darker now with perspiration. The sweet gesture makes Choso huffs. 

It wasn’t doing him any favors, however, as that only made him look even cuter. You’re craning your neck and planting a chaste peck on his bubblegum-pink lips—only for Choso to take control of the kiss and softly bite down on your bottom lip. “Baby-” He rasps. And with just how sweet Choso had always been to you, you could’ve almost forgotten how strong he was- how easily he could bounce you down on his cock- how needy he was for you. Feral. Even though you had him wrapped ‘round your finger, he was jostling your pussy’s inside like craaaazy. “Don’t do that. Don’t baby me- I need to be taken- ngh, s-seriously by you, m’kay?”

“Oh…” You’re letting out a heated breath as his tip empties out at your cervix.

And to prolong that sensation; Choso claws his hand up and pushes on the lower part of your stomach. Right beneath where your cunt was expanding and contracting with his cock. “Feel how big I am?” He doesn’t stop putting pressure on that spot until you’re nodding - “How hard? How much I’m leaking?” Just on cue, a splatter! of precum leaks between your pussylips.

And with something like a broken whimper- Choso snakes his fingers down to push the leakage back up your channel. 

“O-oh—this pussy’s so fuckin’ wet. And I can handle it- I can handle it.” He utters more to himself. The more he’s speaking, the harder and longer he’s fucking you, the more ruined he sounds. “M’not as innocent as you think, baby.”

“Oh? Do tell.” You smile.

Such a gorgeous, gorgeous smile that he almost hesitates wiping away with a roll of his thumb - stimulating the nerves of your clit. But it makes you break out into the prettiest lewd expression that leaves him rutting his hips even harder, “Do you have any idea how fuh-fucking long I’ve waited for this? How badly I’ve wanted to- ngh, stuff my cock and fuck you like an animal?” As he trails off, he feels his stinging tip start to twitch even more wildly. Dangerously. “Fuck—”

“H-how long?” You’re asking with a smug smirk.

Choso’s blinking a few times just to let the question register- and finally muttering. “Even when you were dating- him. Ever since I first saw you…” And then he rubs his thumb at an even more steadied pace, matching it to the pushes of his spearing cock. “You were wearing that red dress of yours- hah, and I could see the strap of your pretty pink bra peaking out…the one with the bows on-”

That makes you gasp.

Which Choso takes advantage of to plaster his lips against yours n’ suckle on your tongue. 

“And then-” Barely managing out through kisses- through stabs of his length- through the pleasure. “And then you called me ‘baby’ as you were getting ready to leave, and I- ngh, knew you were teasing me for being younger—fuck, I h-had to run to the bathroom just to jerk off.”

Rovering his mushroomy trip straight into your nerve-ended g-spot; you’re arching into his chest as you feel Choso lose his grip on his sanity.

Already having been so loose.

He’s babbling as he cums long and hard, and oh-so-deeeeeply into your cunt. Mouth ajar. Body collapsing against yours - caging you even further against the bathroom wall. “Baby- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Shit, so much…” Just feeling the ribbons upon ribbons of creamy-white sap he was emptying out. Hot. hypnotizing. Every stroke managed to hit your best spots, and every push meant your pussy was getting overloaded with his cum. The inches of his shaft were curved just perfectly enough that he’s managing to slip aside your walls and use his tip to circle and circle those webs of cum at the very base of your pussy. All over. 

Soon enough, you’re feeling a layer of it make its way down your inner-thighs—and Choso still didn’t seem like he was going to stop anytime soon. You moan, “H-how can you cum this much- mmpf.”

He captures your lips in another sloppy kiss. “Must be the stamina of a younger guy.”

“Choso you’re pussydrunk.” You’ve never heard him sound so drawling and dreamy.

“Hmmmm…” He’s nuzzling the crook of your neck, leaving bite marks that will be entirely too difficult to explain when you’re going back outside. “Did you cum? Promise I can- ngh, make you cum, too…” Grazing your skin with his lips.

“Prove it, then.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 6…9?

“It’s a fuckin’ pandemic, isn’t it?”

You’re looking at your boyfriend over the rim of your book, “Excuse me?”

Sukuna was seated on the armchair in the corner of your bedroom; just having finished a video call with his brother and his nephew. The bright chatter (at least from their end) had died down some minutes ago, and they’d bid your boyfriend goodnight—which was rather the same routine for these biweekly calls. Despite how much the two of you visited, Itadori Yuji always found it too hilarious to put strange filters on his grumpy uncle.

Except, tonight…Sukuna had sat in the armchair for a few minutes longer.

Usually; he would join you in bed.

Usually; he would grumble - though with a fond smile on his face - about whatever Yuji had been chattering about before. 

He was practically an honorary father to the boy, and it always made you smile to see. 

Usually; he wouldn’t look up at you as expressionless as if he’d seen a ghost- as if his soul had wafted away. And ask you about some…pandemic? Did Yuji put something in his head again?

At the confused expression on your face, Sukuna was heaving out a sigh—pushing up those glasses that were totally, most definitely not glasses and merely a tool he uses to…see…better up his handsome nosebridge. Sukuna was in his late thirties, and silver was beginning to tinge the edges of his pink hair, climbing up his temples. His crows’ feet creased as he frowned at you, “The…67 thing. It’s a pandemic.”

“67 thing?” You gape, your book plopping down on the bed. 

“You heard me.” He scoffs. “I’ve been thinking it’s mass hysteria- every brat at his kindergarten keeps repeating it. But there seems to be no pattern or cohesion. I thought it was just those damn kindergarteners, but the other day I even caught Jin saying it-”

“S-six…seven…thing.” You’re repeating - for no reason other than to confirm to yourself that what you’re hearing was real.

Sukuna straightens in his chair, “See? Now it’s got you—”

“Kuna, like the meme?” You’re shaking your head, “The one from the song? Oh my god, it’s not mass hysteria-”

He crinkles his nose. “The hell is a…meme?”

“You don’t know what a—” How has he been Yuji - of all people’s - uncle but still had no idea? You continue, “It’s basically an Internet inside joke- it’s been over for a while now but the kids are still obsessed with it.” Finally gripping your book once more, you level him a look. “You didn’t seriously think it was mass hysteria, did you, Kuna?”

Sukuna crosses his bulky arms and looks away. “Tch—”

And when he catches you giggling, he barks-

“What?!”

“Oh- nothing.” And from the smile upon your lips - Sukuna knew that whatever was coming out of your mouth next wasn’t about to be anything sincere. 

Which is why he’s raising himself off the sofa and climbing up the foot of your bed.

You continue, “It’s just you’re getting old, Kuna.”

Joking; nothing ever riled Ryomen Sukuna up more than teasing him for not understanding some new slang or lyric. 

And with how much he riled you up sometimes—you had to get back at him somehow, alright?

Soon enough, he’s pinning you down to the bed - with his toned pelvis pressing down on your waist, and his arms creeping upwards to keep your wrists pushed against the mattress. “Say that shit again. I dare you.”

You’re leaning up as though to kiss him. “Old man.”

.

.

.

Sukuna’s tongue was zig-zagging wiiiiildly between your legs- striking the soft circle of your entrance and then swervin’ as deeply inside as it could go. Deeper. Deeper.

No matter how fervently his mouth was glued to your pussy. 

No matter how ravenously.

His hips rut off the bed with every single lick—and that fat, throbbing tip of his kept shovelling n’ shovelling at a synchronized pace with his tongue. 

He had you twisted in sixty-nine with your pussy latched onto his lips. 

Sukuna’s own cock squeezing out heavy volumes of his salty precum near your lips, then promptly pushin’ them inside with his thrusts- Sukuna was so loooong and rock-hard that he was managing to swab across every spot and directly target the back of your throat. Playing with that dangly in the back.

You’re moaning as he squeezes two ringed-decorated fingers into your tight cunt. And he grins as he feels the vibrations—“Ah ah- s’rude to talk with your mouth full.” 

Just then, Sukuna’s planting a smack! on your pussy that makes you pull off of his shaft with a loud pop! “H-hey…”

“What?” He trundles. Reaching his hips up and guiding his needy tip back into your mouth, “Speak.”

All because he knew that you’d attempt to nonetheless- and it would end up with the most lewd noises being muffled into this cock. It would end up with his eyes scrunching shut, his head throwing backwards at the shocks of pleasure. “Th-thought I told you to speak? Hah- not babble. Cock got your tongue or something?”

And…it would end up with you being all huffy n’ puffy. “That’s not even f-fair…”

“Heh- fair?” From where he’d been nipping at your clit, Sukuna pulls off - just to confirm he wasn’t hearing things. He wasn’t. And though you couldn’t see his expression from this angle, you could practically hear the amusement in his tone. “What happened to me being old, huh? You surely don’t need me to go easy on you.”

“I d-didn’t say that…” You’re stubbornly answering him - though the constant drives of his fingers were driving you absolutely mad. Sure. 

“Good.” And then you’re feeling two more consecutive smack-smacks! atop your bloated folds. “Because, babydoll…m’barely even started.”

In no time, Sukuna has you manhandled so that your stomach’s against the soft bed. Your back’s against his thoroughly toned front - so incredibly strong; he was bulky—with a layer of thickness to him that made your skin tingle with want - and his erect cock placed between your legs. He takes a few moments to wetten your core up- because no matter how many times you’ve taken him, you think you’ll never get used to Sukuna’s sheer size.

And before long you’re clawing onto the headboard for dear life—as he damn-near molds your tender cunt to his size. Startin’ at the tip-top of his bloated shaft, and then bouncing you down- down- down so many inches greedily. 

Utterly greedily. 

“Oh- oh, fuuuuuck.” Hands shooting forwards to grab onto more of the mahogany frame.

But Sukuna stops you right then n’ there by wrapping his right arm around your neck; like a wreath, your pants are immediately cut off. And his muscles bulge as they tighten—the defined ridges of his biceps pushing against your throat - it’s sensual enough to make your mouth water…“And where’d you think you’re going, huh?”

“Nowher- mmpf.” Cut off immediately by the tightening of his muscled restraint. 

“Lying’s not a good look, brat.” Then his second set of fingers snakes down to spank! your stuffed pussy- right atop your bloated folds. The shockwaves that run up your spine are enough to make you buck and whine—and enough to make him drag you back into him. Again and again. “Wasn’t stuffing this mouth earlier ‘nough to teach you a little lesson?”

So stubborn. “Not at all-”

He’s spitting straight between your lips.

And when Sukuna’s fucking you; it’s with harsh, pointed jabs - scouring deeeeep into the bottom of your pussy and leaving the mark of his cockhead. That rounded bruise you feel throb-throb-throbbin’ away every time he repeats the action—he fucks you like he hates you.

And he’s only growing faster, harder by the second.

Only tightening his headlock and wrenching your body back into his. Again and again.

Over and over.

Until the globes of your ass were stinging with impact, and you’ve memorized the pattern of his happy trail. It’s practically a part of you. 

Sukuna’s rugged cock knew aaaaall the right spots. Making your pupils roll around in the whites of your eyes, and leaving you wondering just how he had this much stamina still…“Awww, c’mon now.” His low voice trundles in your ears. “Get your act together, girl. You don’t wanna be this cockdrunk for someone so old, huh?”

“I-I—”

“What was it you called me?” He growls, sharp canines nipping at the shells of your ears. “Huh? What was it you called me? See, this fossil ‘ere has some trouble…remembering-”

Every syllable of his was punctured by a thorough glide across the velvety channel of your pussy- “Ummm, then in that case, I didn’t say anything?” You try your luck.

“Nice try.” Sukuna grins. “But m’not that geriatric yet.”

Another spank. “Please-”

“What did you call me?”

“I-I just meant-”

And another. “What did you call me?”

“An…old man.” You feel embarrassed just letting the words slip between your lips.

You didn’t think he could get even rougher with his movements - his shaft was throbbing, and his pelvis was smack-smack-smacking into you. So hard that you’re propelled forwards by the sheer force; and Sukuna roughly lurches you back with his headlock. “I might be an old man- cheh. I might not know all these…damn Internet memes- but I do know how to fuck this pussy right.” To prove his point, he scours in-between your pussylips to squeeze your pretty clit. “Look at her- she’s in love with me.”

“O-oh—” Eyes fluttering shut. 

“I know how to make her cry with pleasure. I know how to make her- mmmngh, squeeze like she doesn’t want me leavin’…heh.” He continues muttering into your ear as his hips grow more fervent. “I know how to make her feel so good—”

Your teeth grit. “Shit.” And you recognize the twisting sensation at the pit of your stomach. “K-Kuna, I’m gonna cum-”

“And even better.” He chuckles. Gnawing at the top of your ear shell, before moving down to bite the tender crook of your neck - like a wolf catching his prey. “I might not know those fuckin’- memes like the youngsters do. But I do know how to make this pussy- cum.”

“S-sooo close—don’t stop.” You’re bouncing n’ bouncing back into his pistoning hips. 

Feeling the pleasure well up. Feeling your head start to spin a little as you near your high- 

You’re crashing past your tipping point. And Sukuna gives you one, two, three good strokes to fuck you through the bursts of white-hot pleasure running through your veins - before he’s suddenly setting you free of his headlock and letting you drop straight into the plush pillows. 

Reeling his damn cock out.

You don’t know what’s louder: your disappointed groan or his rough cackle.

“What? Wanted this old man to be nice in bed or something?” As soon as you’re looking over your shoulder, you’re met with Sukuna’s priggish grin—his sharp canines peaking out at the edges of his lower lip. 

Grumpily, you nod. “Yes? What- can’t last or—oh.”

Another smack. “That’s not gonna work on me again- sorry, babydoll.” And before you know it, you’re being flipped right over - getting your legs thrown over his shoulders and pushed into the meanest mating press you’ve ever experienced. “Because m’not letting my bratty girl properly cum until I’ve had a good few rounds to blow off some steam. And m’sure you can keep up- heh, if not…”

“And um- how many rounds might that be exactly?”

Sukuna smirks. “67.”

“I hate you.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - “M-mommy!”

AITA for seducing the HOT rich MILF (40’sF) that I (23M) pool-clean for while her ex-husband and kids were away?! In my defense, she’s reeeeeally hot.

You freeze.

Ino freezes.

The world itself seems to freeze; all except for the ruby-red tip of Ino Takuma’s cock. Shoved deeeep inside your cunt - deep enough to leave a permanent bruise there - and throbbing away wildly—he’s cumming with that particular title escaping his lips. 

And then his lower lip wobbles once- twice- before he ducks down and attempts to hide his face in his arms. 

“Hey hey-” Swiftly, you reach down to push his hands away - you’d be disappointed not to see his pretty expressions as you fucked him even further. All pouty lips and doe-like eyes—Ino Takuma was so pretty, and perhaps that’s what drew you to the younger pool cleaner in the first place. “What’s the matter, Taku?”

“I-I didn’t mean to call you that- honest!” He stammers out.

To which you’re cocking your head with a sly smile- time to try something. “Call me what, Taku?”

“Y’know what it is…” Ino grumbles, huffing. And when you simply continue to stare at him in slight confusion, he’s rockin’ up into your wet cunt as he speaks- “The way I c-called you—mommy- oh.” Just as you’d predicted, his velvety length jolts at the mere utterance of that title. Excitedly spurting out a few creamy-white wads of cum that glue to your cervix.

So messy. He was so fucking messy.

How ironic, considering that his entire job was to clean your pool.

You’d been introduced to Ino through one of your friends - those networks of older rich women with far too much time and money on their hands. Juggling kids and businesses. And you’d just been complaining to them over a gold-flaked brunch that your last pool cleaner had moved towns, and with your kids now entering middle school, the pool was left without use and starting to gather leaves. 

That’s when they’d shared Ino’s number with you—a reliable pool cleaner. Just graduated college, and so easy on the eyes if they did say so themselves…

You’d huffed that you’d tell their husbands- meanwhile you on the other hand had just recently gotten divorced. One too many nights of your husband coming home with a cloud of mysterious perfume around him, or a lipstick stain on his collar - at least you’d gotten a good chunk of everything in the divorce!

But that was all in the past- maybe love just wasn’t for you.

You had your kids. You had your gorgeous hillside mansion. You had your hobbies and friends- men just weren’t…for…

Fuck, that’s when he’d showed up at your door. 

Bright and early. Beaming with all his gorgeous pearly whites; the sweetest smile on such a killer body. Ino showed up in nothing but an unbuttoned flowery shirt and swim trunks—their lightning-yellow color perfectly complemented his slightly-tanned skin and messy brown hair. Slightly tawny from the Sun.

“Er, I hope you don’t mind.” Ino had said, a sheepish smile on his face. “I thought I’d get changed for the job before I got here.”

Mind? Mind?!

In simply what world would you mind—it took every speck of reason and rationality in you to dart your eyes away from the plane of his chest, his washboard abs. Sultry shoulders. Slender waist. There was a scattered happy trail that ran between his six-pack and- beneath his swimming trunks. 

Fuck. 

Instead, you focused on the tight necklace of shells around Ino’s throat. “C-come in.”

On the first day, you stayed inside - only peeking out occasionally from your bedroom window - as Ino cleaned your pool. You tipped him heavily.

On the second day, he’d told you that it was completely okay with him even if you used the pool whilst he was cleaning—and you took that as your sign. You donned a bikini you hadn’t gotten the chance to use in years, and sprawled yourself out on the nearest sun bed - making occasional conversation with him almost as an excuse to ogle him.

And if you weren’t mistaken, you’d say that he ogled you too. 

But you really did discover that Ino was a sweetheart- and made you giggle like a schoolgirl, too. How embarrassing you felt admitting this!

And a part of you was almost relieved when your kids arrived home from school - escorted by their driver - so you could resume your mundane lavishness. But a bigger part of you was already yearning for when you’d see him again…

And so continued the third day.

And the fourth day.

And so on to the fifth and the sixth.

Before you knew it, Ino had been employed as your pool-cleaner for at least a month—and he’d quickly grown to become someone you and your kids were quite fond of. Even your driver had caught on, and shot you a knowing smile every time you asked him to escort Ino back to his downtown apartment. Perhaps feeling jealous of such an occurrence, your ex-husband had showed up with tickets to an amusement park - already having planned a day trip for your kids.

They’d, of course, begged to go. And so you’d agreed.

Leaving nobody inside this vast mansion: but you, Ino, and the growing tension between you two. 

The only thing was, right before he left, your ex-husband had the audacity to stop Ino and snipe at him. Low and threatening. “Touch her and I’ll make you very, very sorry.”

So, of course you’d fucked Ino as soon as they were out of the house. 

Squeezing your robe-covered thighs ‘round his waist—just so perfectly curved to meet your embrace. “W-we really shouldn’t be…I mean- I’m old enough to be your-”

“Works just fine for me, pretty.” He’d cut you off. Pulling on the gauzy material of your robe to let your tits spill out- fuck, he was in heaven.

Enough so that it’d taken just putting it in for Ino to cover your luscious inside in his sap. To watch the satiny liquid seep between your pussylips and leave his pelvis gleaming with a sheen. To wrench out the most pathetic calls of your name—and one particular title that made him want to get swallowed up by the Earth.

Again and again.

Ino’s cock was longer than you’d expected - and all this time, you’d been wondering where the hell he’d been hiding all that in his swimming trunks. Just reaching over six pretty inches. Just smooooth and leaned ever-so-slightly towards the left. It’s making his bulbous tip drag across every sweet spot inside you, and your thighs quiver as you take him.

Every single inch. You’re arching your back and mustering up your strength to grind your hips forwards and back, forwards and back.

Milking him—

“C’mon, baby.” You’re cooing down at the handsome man. He blinks his teary eyes open- and you just can’t help but lean down n’ kiss them away from his cheeks. “Call me ‘mommy’ again?”

“C-can’t…” Ino blushes down to the roots of his chocolate-brown hair. “It’s embarrassing-”

“But it gets me so wet, Taku.” You pout—and his eyes widen at your admission. You watch as his pupils shift down- as if making sure. “Pleeeeeeeease? Just once?”

And in response, you smush your thighs harder around him. You’re sure you leave red, red welts on his skin - but that wasn’t registering in his mind right now. Nothing was. Nothing but the smooch of your soft velvety insides embracing his cock, and the sensation of cum sploshin’ around inside you. “Fine…but only because I wanna impress you…” His breath hitches. “-mommy.”

You shiver. “Oh, I liked that—”

And he does, too, because your cunt’s just suctioning on his length as if you were trying to take his soul. His fucking soul. 

The thing is- Ino would have gladly given it to you at this moment.

“It feels good- it f-feels s-sooooo good.” Tears begin to crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and Ino’s fingers dig into the sides of your hips as he bucks upwards. “Fuck, it should be illegal for it to feel this good- mommy.” And he can’t fucking help it—it echoes before he can stop himself. 

“Taku, I think you like saying that more than me.” With a soft chuckle, your dominant hand ends up wrapped around his throat. “C’mon now- a little faster for mommy.”

“Sh-shut—ngh.” No matter how hard he attempts to regain control- it doesn’t work. He pushes upwards into your soft, syrupy cervix as though marking it.

After a few desperate thrusts, he asks you- “Is this okay?”

“Hmmmm…” You pretend to think - and the ruined expression on his face is oh-so-completely worth it. “How about a biiiiit faster?”

His jaw drops- but he doesn’t complain. He’s grabbing onto either side of your thighs now, and plunging straight into your deepest depths—multiple thwacks! every second, it feels like. “H-how about-”

“Just a little faster.”

Doubting himself. “Is that even possible-”

“But you’d do it for- heh, me won’t you? You’d do it to make me feel good?”

Nodding and nodding. “Yes, mommy. A-anything for you mommy—” Broken moans and pleas cycle at the back of Ino’s throat, and he’s planted his feet flat on the mattress to push himself up ravenously. “M’just here for you to use me.”

Your eyes widen - your smile grows.

“Just use me-” He gasps, face reddening as he follows your instructions. “Fucking use me like a toy. Use me- fuh-fuuuck—”

“A liiiiiittle bit—” Your head tips backwards as he’s entering the perfect pace - rapid enough to leave your thoughts stupidly muddled, but still steady enough that you’re feeling every single ridge, vein, and curve. Giving your walls such a good massage—“Th-that’s perfect, Taku.” You squeeze his pretty neck tighter, and you’re hearing him let out a little hiccup of a sob. “Mommy’s so proud of you.”

Oh, and you thought that he was ruined enough already?

You thought that he was reaching his limits?

Because after that particular sentence - oh, you’re evil for that - Ino digs his digits into the flesh of your thighs and rams deep into your womb. His pistoning cock resting there for a brief few split-seconds as he sputters—“L-let me make you a mommy all over again.”

Your breath catches. “Do you even know what you’re asking for, Taku-”

“Fucking yes.” His glazed tip twitches dangerously in a way that told you he was oh-so-close to cumming again. Again.  “Yes, please- fuuuuck, let me get you pregnant. Let me make you a mommy for the third time. I-I promise I’ll be the best- ngh, dad and nothing like that asshole. I’ll take care of you and cherish you and-”

You kiss him to shut him up.

“But of course, baby.” You hum. “But you have to be quick before my ex-husband finds out.”

He’s never cum harder in his life. 

Verdict: NTA (drop the fucking tutorial, OP).

♡ GOJO SATORU - Sugar, sugar…

Gojo Satoru wasn’t technically a DILF - but he was a sugar daddy.

And they called you a gold digger.

Gojo called you business-savvy.

It was a rather unique situation: the relationship between the two of you had started out as a regular sugar daddy-sugar baby relation. You met Gojo Satoru at some stuffy ol’ business function when you were the arm candy of some other businessman—one who’d been ignoring you in favor of one of his business associates the entire night, of course.

Whatever.

You’d gotten used to this routine by now - and so you’d drifted by the grazing table with microscopic clean cuts and cheeses you couldn’t even pronounce. 

And that was exactly how your knight-in-shining-suit had sidled up next to you.

With two champagne glasses in-hand and a flirtatious smile upon his face, he handed you one of the drinks. Then you gestured at the businessmen you’d arrived with- and Gojo had the audacity to roll his eyes and pretend to retch. That was when you knew you’d get along.

Tall. Toned. With twinkling blue eyes—and just the slightest bit of silver creeping into his already-white hair. Gojo Satoru was as handsome as he was rich—and considering that both aspects occupied a fair share of the conversations tonight, you were rather flattered to be in his presence. Though the CEO of Gojo Corporations didn’t waste time: “Y’know, if I was lucky enough to arrive with an angel- I’d never leave her sight. Why waste time with some geezers over such a gorgeous gal?”

You smiled.

And you left that night with Gojo instead.

From the boxes of jewelries and flights around the world - to the tabloids and online speculation that couldn’t get enough of you. 

CEO of Gojo Corporations finally finds love?!

Gold digger or gold-hearted: All we know about Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend!

Is it sugar baby season? The newest IT Girl’s best red-carpet looks so far—

But of course, there was always some truth to those headlines. Perhaps. 

You were Gojo Satoru’s sugar baby. You were in a transactional relationship- though he never laid a hand on you. Not unless you initiated it.

So…what was it really?

You got your answer a few months into this limbo of lust—the two of you finally started dating. 

And to be quite honest; it wasn’t that big of a change at first. The two of you went out for romantic dinners either way. The two of you dodged paparazzi and rumors every step. The two of you bantered and teased as much as you did anyways- the only change would be that Gojo Satoru finally let loose when he fucked you.

Though, at times, he still did like to let his sugar daddy side peek through…

“A-awwww- just look at you.” Gojo’s hands were rubbin’ furiously down his length - from those curls of white cozily decorating his base, up to that poor, pretty tip that just wouldn’t stop cumming. Up and down. Up and down. 

Salty-sweet heaps of cum were pouring out of his cockhead and splashing down your front- your stomach, your inner thighs, your cunt. He watches as it creates a little waterfall effect—and Gojo reaches down to pat your stuffed pussy with his long fingers. “No matter what pretty trinkets n’ expensive lingerie you wear- you always look the prettiest covered in my cum, sweetheart.”

“S-Satoru—” You’re squirming underneath him. Hands clasping the silken sheets.

Your fingers were decked-out in diamond rings. Your lacy lingerie was tugged n’ pulled aside for access. 

Around you were bracelets upon necklaces upon every piece of jewelry that your heart could desire - Gojo had taken it upon himself to empty out Tokyo’s luxury stores earlier. All for you, of course.

All to drown you in—whilst he attempted to do the same with his fucking cum-

“I fuckin’ loooooove it when it covers you like this.” He hisses- nose scrunches in a feral way as he glides his fingers across those splatters. Those smears. That ruinous mess. His favorite was to see you like this: pull out game, who? You often scoffed whenever Gojo claimed that his was unmatched. “Love the way it looks like your pretty pussy can’t keep it in-” Just another light tap on your cunt. “Love the way it looks so pretty on your skin like this—mmm, you’ve got me obsessed, girl.”

Your thighs were shaky- but not shaky enough to stop you from attempting to pull him even closer. They’re wrapping around his waist, and careening him close ‘nough to kiss your puffy pussylips with his throbbing tip. His length doesn’t stop sensitively twitching for a single second—“O-oh…greedy for more, my girl?” 

“More.” Just barely managing to wrangle out. “W-want some more—”

“Fuuuuck.” He whispers underneath his breath - something so ragged in his tone. That blushin’ tip of his was twitching in excitement already, and Gojo probably doesn’t even realize before he’s slotted his still-erect length between your legs and his rockin’ away at a slow pace. “You seriously want more?”

Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation of him intruding your hole- seemingly only growing bigger every time he feels you clenchin’ around nothing. So needy. 

“Yes-” You’re nodding furiously. Perhaps had this been any other time, then you’d have been almost embarrassed at your unabashed eagerness. “B-but this time, I want it inside, Toru.”

“Inside?” Gojo’s pale brows fly to his hairline. “But you’re already stuffed so full, my sweetheart.”

And then he’s smearing his fingertips between your bloated folds- teasin’ them apart and taking a good look at your entrance. He can’t help himself - he’s spitting straight into that puckered hole—and watching at the glossy wad slips down your crevice and only adds to the mess he’s made previously. You’re shivering as he runs his nimble digits up n’ down your slit and presses on your clit.

“Yes, but—” You keen, arching into his firm core. “But you never really came inside, Toru.”

“Oh…” Those glossed lips of his part.

And you’re taking the opportunity to throw your arms weakly around him- “And I want it inside this time.” Though Gojo loved teasing you with his creamy-white sap—making you beg for it at times, he’s never properly cum inside.

He always thought it’d be too soon: you were younger, after all. And a pregnancy at this point might derail your plans-

“But I want it.” Had he been babbling this entire time? The sheer determination in your eyes sends a jolt of dark-black need through him - far more primal than he ever thought possible. Far more. Gojo’s blue peripherals glaze over as he clasps his cock even tighter, as though afraid he’s so hard now that it’d fucking fall off.

“Shouldn’t fall off now.” He whispers breathily.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Gojo quickly amends. Before he uses the pointed tip of his shaft to web up those dollops of cum he’d spurted ‘round your thighs and folds—it creates a gloss of white that he thinks would suit the insides of your pussy so well (did he mention that he was the one to pick out your lingerie colors?) ‘Round and ‘round.

It devises the most sinful sounds between your legs. And your breath catches in your throat: “A-are you gonna cum inside or not, Toru? Hurry-”

“So impatient.” He’s tutting. Voice low and husky. “I hope you know that if I fuck my cum inside—then m’gonna fuck you pregnant, sweetheart.”

Goosebumps scatter across your skin.

But Gojo doesn’t let you squirm, he doesn’t let you move about restlessly- he’s pinning you down with his hips and rumbling lowly in your ear. “M’gonna make sure it takes.” A rough sliiiiiide of his length sandwiched between your cushy pussylips - drooling for him by now. “M’gonna stuff you so full that you won’t even be able to walk—” Another rough slide. A thrust. “M’gonna give you the most precious gift of all - in my eyes.”

“P-please—!”

As you’re letting your head tip backwards, Gojo reaches his hand up to and clasps your gorgeous, gorgeous face. Smushing your cheeks together in a way that was so pathetic - “Are you okay with that, pretty baby?”

You’ve never heard him sound so serious.

And you’ve never yowled an affirmation faster in your entire life—

In the next few seconds, Gojo’s stuffed rawly all the way to the hilt and is messin’ up your insides with determined strokes. Once. Twice. Thrice- he punctures through your clingy walls and hits all the best spots - memorizing your g-spot and running his flared tip along it. 

And honestly, it doesn’t take much - the two of you were already so overstimulated already - before you’re feeling the wave of euphoria start to build up in your stomach already. Almost as lewd of a sensation as the clear twitchin’ mess that Gojo and his length had turned into—babbling, gasping, sobbing as he runs his fat cock raw on your velvety walls. Fucking raw.

You were going to make him an actual DILF.

“Y-you’re gonna get it now…” It’s the last thing he’s getting out before a flood of white sap enters your tight cunt. Getting absolutely drenched from the inside. “When have I ever forgone you of a gift, my girl?”

“Never—” You’re keening out. Rushes of pleasure start up between your legs- before crackling through your veins and ultimately ending up at your brain.

Hazy and startling at the feeling of him fucking you through both your highs. Thrust after thrust. Gush after gush of both pleasure n’ his milky-white cum. 

Underneath the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm; you can feel his spurts of cum start to trickle between your legs. It was just as warm as your skin was getting, and creating a little puddle beneath you that Gojo takes one looks at and gasps- 

“Now now, are you wasting your gift, sweetheart—?” He cocks his head, genuinely ruined. 

“N-no?”

“Or do I just have to- heh, regift it to you again?”

“Shut up.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Ms. Babysitter.

“We have to be quiet, angel- fuck. Fuck.” Higuruma’s voice sounded ragged—

Ruined. Nothing but carnal desire creeping up into the edges of his tone; giving you a jolt, considering that you’ve known the older man to be nothing but utterly calm and collected.

He was one of the best parents that you babysat for. 

One of your college friends had recommended you for the job - the hot lawyer in your neighborhood needed someone to look after his young daughter whilst he worked long nights? You were agreeing before you’d even heard the hours, you can’t deny—and despite how hasty of a decision it had been, you thoroughly enjoyed working under Higuruma Hiromi.

And being under Higuruma Hiromi…though that didn’t come until a few weeks after you’d been employed. 

The first night, you’d barely seen him. Dark hair. Dark circles.

The main thing you remember was that he looked exhausted—and some strange part of you was actually enticed by the hard-working man. Especially when he was such a gentleman…

Fuck, that suit fit him so well.

He addressed you oh-so-respectfully; unlike some parents who were tempted to treat you like a live-in server. Hands behind his back. Jet-black eyes to himself as he gave you a two-minute tour around the house- you’d been thoroughly enjoying yourself admiring his broad shoulders in that suit, when a sudden call from the office meant your tour had to be paused. 

Higuruma had pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. He’d sighed.

And he was out that door before you could even confirm bedtime- which hadn’t been too much of a problem, to be honest. His daughter was extremely well-behaved and didn’t hesitate to let you know. 

She also didn’t hesitate to let you know that her dad was very, very single.

You let her stay up just a liiittle past her bedtime. 

And then the second night, he’d apologized for his hastiness - telling you that a recent case had them fighting to prepare before the court deadline, and there’d just been so many fucking tax audits to go through.

You nodded like you understood. But what really intrigued you was when he’d told you that his daughter had just loved having you over. Though a part of you was simply satisfied that you did your job well (buttered popcorn and K-pop Demon Hunters wins again!), you can’t deny that it made your heart…flutter hearing it from the older man like this. 

It made you realize that you had a little crush.

So of course, you made him a regular.

And the pay was so good that you were able to weed out your other clients to focus predominantly on Higuruma and his bizarre babysitting schedule (some nights he worked until 3AM…)—you guessed the overtime was paying off. 

Though your interactions were limited mostly to the brief conversations before and after- though you never did cross your boundaries. That all came to a head when one night - about a month or two into your babysitting gig - Higuruma suddenly perked up after a late night at the office. It was 3:31AM when he quietly let himself inside the house, sighing as he finally tugged off his tie.

It was 3:32AM by the time you got up off the couch and offered him some cookies you’d made with his daughter in the morning.

3:40AM when he suddenly remembered- and suggested resuming that house tour you didn’t get to finish. And though you’d been a bit hesitant—for nothing other than the fact that you might wake his sleeping daughter up, he promised that the two of you would be quiet.

Then, finally, 3:47AM when he was telling you to be quiet in bed-

“Wouldn’t wanna wake her up, hm?” The prominent outline of his nose runs down the side of your throat - and it makes you shiver. Fuck, you always have thought that that was one of the most handsome parts of him. 

A soft moan strangles in your throat as he slots his thickened tip between your folds—feeling it like this, your mind’s reeling with the question of how the fuck he’s going to fit like this.

Higuruma always did strike you as the type of man to be big; but this was enough to make your mouth water and your eyes damn-near bulge out of your skull. From here, you were feeling at least seven or eight inches of his erection, furiously hot, wrapped in throbbing red veins and having the most luscious precum dripping out from top. He seemed hard enough to fucking ruin you - just how you wanted it. 

And as if reading your mind, Higuruma runs his slippery wet tip down your pussylips, and trundles in his low tone. “Are you sure you want to do it? We don’t have to rush into anything if you don’t want-”

“I do.” Cutting him off mid-sentence.

Although by the way that Higuruma’s stern lips were quirking up ever-so-slightly—you’re taking it to mean that he didn’t exactly mind. He keeps one hand underneath your ass, so that you can be pushed up into his roverin’ hips, and his other one caresses your cheek softly. “Hm, is that so…? Then I guess what I meant to say is…can you take every single inch, sugar?”

You gulp. Your eyes dart down nervously to his twitchin’, throbbing length. “Yes.”

And you’ve never been more sure of anything.

Higuruma merely horses out - “Then buckle up, angel.”

Before you know it, his round, ruddied tip is probin’ inside. Sifting your gluey walls from side-to-side before spreading you up so maddeningly open.

He spots your sweet areas with a few dollops of pre- as soon as Higuruma found himself inside you, he was fighting back whimpers of pleasure. The older man’s achin’ cock doing all the talking for him as he shovels his way in—

“Sh-shit.” Your eyes sprint to the back of your head as you take him. “Shit, you’re so big-”

The way you’re moving your hips around as though confused whether to buck right down or make him ease up- it’s just so cute. And he plants a reassuring hand on the side of your waist, “Easy now.” Higuruma hushes out, “Eeeeeeasy, angel. You can take it for me.”

“Right there—” You keen out as his flared tip rubs along your g-spot.

And although he knows what you meant, that doesn’t stop Higuruma from throwing you a ravishing smirk. Letting his second hand run down your core- “No, sugar. Right here.” He pushes down right where he knew your womb would be - that soft pressure making your walls clench around him wildly, until you could feel every throb of his engorged tip even in your brain. “And you’re gonna take it f’me, right?” 

Jostling you hard with every thrust—so that you’re nodding away. Almost pathetically. 

“Mhm…exactly what I thought.” He coos - so lovingly thrusting away between your quiverin’ legs. Higuruma’s skin slap-slap-slaps against yours at a steady pace, “Just a few more inches now—keep quiet, please.”

“I’m t-trying.” Gnawing down on your lower lip. “How many more?”

“Ah, just one inch…two…” And after a prolonged thrust- so deep that you swear you’re feeling it in your throat, Higuruma cracks a grin. “Maybe more.”

Five more?

Five more?

And you were already on the verge of being fucked absolutely stupid? You’re letting a groan escape you—lewd and louder than you intended- and before the realization hits you, Higuruma himself swiftly reaches over to where his work tie had been dangling off the side of the bed. Bunching it up, shoving it between those pretty lips - he couldn’t have anyone waking up now, could he?

And that’s exactly what he’s telling you: “C’mon, angel…” Shoves getting deeper and longer. Rougher- as he rams his thickened inches past where you don’t think anyone’s ever gone before. And throughout it all, the older man was so steady with you—“C’mon- c’mon. You can do this—fuuuuuck, you can do this. This pussy’s gonna take all of me, right?”

Nodding and nodding.

“Yeah? Because you’re my goooood girl, right? Taking me so well.” He continues rasping - tone pitching higher and higher as he goes on. “My good- fucking- girl—”

“O-oh, fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“You’re my goooooood fucking girl, huh?” The stubs of his five o’ clock shadow rub up against your skin. The deeper he thrusts, the hotter his body seems to become on top of yours. More and more. “Can you count how many inches m’putting in you?”

Tears flow down your eyes, “Y-yes- mmpf.” Somehow managing past the tie. “Ah- four? Five. Six.”

Higuruma’s eyes widen.

“Seven—” Your voice seems like it’s on the verge of cracking. “Eight.”

It’s just too adorable how you’re sweetly attempting to respond to him even with the gag in. And Higuruma can’t help himself as he leans in and kisses you through the tie.

It’s hot and it’s messy.

And it ends up with him smiling against your stuffed lips, “Finally bottomed-out.”

Hazily, you’re blinking a few times. It clears your vision enough for you to jerk your head down and see that it was indeed true, Higuruma had stuffed himself inside your pussy until his thick base was kissin’ your pussylips. Just the most innocent peck.

“And now…” Except…fuck, except he was reeling right back again. “-for the fun part.”

Right back until that rounded tip stretched your hole out.

Right back inside-

“Makes me wanna put a baby in you- I swear. Taking me like this.” 

A/N. TONY’S BACK.

every little thing you did chipped at him. the way you waved from your balcony in the mornings wearing nothing but a thin tank top and no bra, nipples stiff from the cool air. the way you asked him once, all sweet and shy, if he knew how to fix a leaking faucet and stood too close while he worked, soft focused grunts leaving is chest and his rolled-up sleeve. after that night he jerked off twice before he could even get his jeans off, coming so hard he had to brace one hand on the shower tile just to stay upright.

he hated how easily you affected him. hated that a girl barely old enough to rent her own apartment could make a man like him, a man who prided himself on control, feel like some desperate teenager again. his sex life used to be something he managed. now it was just quiet frustration and the occasional guilty stroke while he thought about how small you would look under him, how tight you would feel, how pretty you would sound moaning his name.

then came the router. you knocked on his door at nine-thirty one random night, voice small and embarrassed over the phone first, then in person when he opened up still dressed in his white button-up and black jeans.

nanami stands at your doorway with one hand already in his pocket, the other holding the small toolbox he keeps for these exact random neighbor emergencies all ready, and he tells himself for the tenth time that this is nothing. just a quick fix.

your voice is soft and a little embarrassed over he’s not surprised. “sorry to bother you, nanami-san, but my wifi router just died and i have no idea what i’m doing with these things.” he had sighed, told you he would be right over, and now here he is, hating every single second because the moment you open the door he feels it again. that pull. that stupid, inconvenient heat low in his gut that has been creeping up on him since the day you moved in.

you are wearing your famous oversized t-shirt that slips off one shoulder and tiny sleep shorts that ride up when you shift your weight, bare feet on the hardwood, skin glazed with a thin layer of sweat like you had been lounging on the couch all evening.

you smile at him, grateful and a little shy, and nanami’s jaw tightens. he is forty, a divorced but settled, a man who likes order and quiet and routines that do not include getting half-hard at the sight of his much younger neighbor’s collarbones. yet here he is, eyes dragging down the line of your neck before he forces them back up.

“thank you so much for coming,” you say, stepping aside to let him in. your voice is warm, a little breathy from the relief of not having to deal with it alone. the apartment smells faintly of vanilla and whatever takeout you had for dinner.

nanami nods once, polite as always, and follows you toward the corner where the router sits on a low shelf. he can feel the weight of his own body, the clean but lived-in scent of his white button-up clinging slightly to his skin after a long day, black jeans sitting snug on his hips. he is musty in that grown-man way, soap and faint cologne mixed with the faint trace of office air and the walk over, nothing overpowering but undeniably male. he knows it. he hopes you do not notice how it fills the small space between you.

you hover close while he crouches down to look at the router, your thigh brushing his shoulder as you point at the blinking lights. “it just stopped working out of nowhere. i tried restarting it but…” your words trail off when he glances up.

his eyes catch on the way your t-shirt hangs loose, the soft swell of your tits visible at the neckline, the smooth skin of your legs right there at eye level. he should look away yet nanami does not. instead his gaze lingers, slow and heavy, tracing the curve of your hip, the way the hem of those shorts digs into the flesh of your thigh. he feels his cock twitch in his jeans, thickening against the zipper before he can stop it.

fuck.

he shifts his weight, trying to hide the growing bulge, but the movement only makes the fabric pull tighter.

“let me see,” he mutters, voice lower than he intends, rough around the edges. his fingers work the cables, checking connections, but his mind is not on the router. it is on you. on how you smell like warm skin and faint lotion, on how you keep biting your lip while you watch him, on how easily he could reach out and slide his palm up the back of your thigh.

he has been trying to ignore it for weeks. it takes him back to the way you wave at him from your balcony in the mornings, the sound of your laugh carrying through the thin walls when you are on the phone with friends, the soft thump of your music when you cook.

every little thing has been chipping away at his carefully built restraint. he is older. he should know better. but his body does not care about should.

he stands up slowly, taller than you by a good amount, and when he does his chest brushes your shoulder. you do not step back and the air between you feels thick, charged, and nanami’s eyes drop again, this time to your mouth, then lower to where your nipples have tightened under the thin shirt.

he swallows hard. his cock is fully hard now, pressing insistently against the front of his black jeans, the outline obvious if you were to look down. he turns slightly, pretending to fiddle with the router settings on his phone, but the movement only highlights the bulge.

he can feel the heat of it, the way it throbs when you lean in closer to see what he is doing, your breath ghosting over his forearm.

“is it the cable?” you ask, voice quieter now, like you have noticed the shift too. your eyes flick to his face, then down, then back up, and nanami sees the faint flush creeping up your neck. good. at least he is not suffering alone. he clears his throat, forcing his attention back to the device, but his free hand flexes at his side, knuckles whitening. he wants to touch you. wants to back you against the wall and slide those tiny shorts down your legs, wants to feel how wet you already are because he can smell it, that sweet faint arousal mixing with your usual scent.

his mind supplies the image without permission: you bent over the couch, his cock buried deep while he grips your hips and fucks the whimpers out of you. he exhales sharply through his nose.

“try it now,” he says, stepping back just enough to give you space, but not enough to hide anything. the router lights flicker green. you pull out your phone to test the connection and let out a small happy sound that goes straight to his dick.

“it works! oh my god, thank you, nanami-san.” you turn to him fully, eyes bright, and for a second he lets himself look. really look. at the way your chest rises with each breath, at the bare stretch of thigh, at how your lips part when you realize he is staring.

he does not smile. his expression stays bland, almost stern, but his eyes are dark and hungry, eye-fucking you so openly now that there is no pretending. his cock strains harder against the denim, a small wet spot forming where he is leaking, and he makes no move to hide it.

he is half heartedly relieved you do not notice. your gaze still stuck on your phone screen, lashes fluttering, and when you look back up, you read there is something new in his expression, something needy and waiting to be unleashed.

nanami’s voice comes out rougher than he means. “you should get a better router. this one is outdated.” it is the most neutral thing he can think of, but it does not matter.

the tension is already there, thick and undeniable, wrapping around both of you in the half-unpacked living room. he can feel his pulse in his cock, the heavy ache of it, the way his balls feel tight just from standing this close to you. he wants to hate how easily you affect him.

he does hate it. but he cannot stop the slow drag of his eyes over your body one more time, imagining exactly how you would look spread open on his bed, taking every inch while he tells you how long he has been fighting this.

you shift on your feet, thighs pressing together, and nanami catches the tiny movement. his jaw clenches. he should leave. he should say goodnight and go back to his quiet apartment and jerk off to the memory like he has done more nights than he cares to admit.

your heartbeat picks up its rate, your finger tips sweaty. you feel the air thickening already, noticing the print of your neighbors dick without even looking down.

“so maybe you could stay and i could make you some te–” your proposal is short lived.

“i’ve fixed what you’ve called me to help for. goodnight.” his stern voice catches you off guard, watching him collect and grab the toolbox on the floor that was forgotten seconds ago. you try to say something but stay frozen when he pushes past you, his neck veins slightly showing on his skin.

nanami strides out fast. because right now, with his cock hard and obvious and his control fraying at the edges, he is not sure he has the strength to stay in the same room with you.

and so he leaves you standing in the middle of your apartment with your wifi fixed and a pile of notifications ‘ding-ing’ every seconds.

+

a week drags by in thick, unspoken tension that sits heavy between the thin apartment walls like smoke that refuses to clear.

nanami wakes each morning with the same stern resolution burning behind his eyes: keep the distance, lock it down, pretend the night you called him over for the router never happened. he leaves for the office before the sun fully rises, comes home long after the hallway lights have dimmed, and when he passes your door he keeps his gaze fixed on the scuffed floorboards like they hold the answers to every moral question he has been asking himself since he first felt that inconvenient throb in his jeans. but the memory refuses to fade.

it lingers in the shower when hot water runs down his chest and his hand wraps around his cock without permission, stroking slow and frustrated while your freshly known name slips out between gritted teeth like a confession he wishes he could swallow back.

it follows him into bed at night, where he lies stiff on his back and remembers the exact shade of flush that crept up your neck when his eyes dragged too long over your body.

he hates it. hates how easily a girl barely out of her early twenties can unravel the careful, quiet life he has built for himself. he is older, disciplined, a man who values order and restraint above almost everything, yet here he is, reduced to stolen glances through the balcony railing and late-night strokes that leave him emptier than before.

you do not make any of it easier. you still wave at him from across the narrow gap between your balconies in the mornings, soft smile curving your lips like you know exactly what you are doing to him. you leave polite little notes taped to his door about shared packages or the new recycling bins downstairs, your handwriting neat and looping in a way that makes his fingers tighten around the paper every time.

each accidental brush of your fingers when you hand him mail in the hallway sends a spark straight down his spine, and every polite “good morning, nanami-san” you offer chips away at the walls he keeps trying to reinforce. he catches the sound of your laugh through the thin wall sometimes when you are on the phone with people… your age, light and warm, and his cock thickens in his slacks before he can stop it.

he tells himself it is nothing. just proximity. just the natural reaction of a man who has been alone too long. but deep down he knows the truth: you have gotten under his skin, and the more he tries to push it away the harder it pulls.

tonight the last thread of his restraint finally frays and snaps.

the familiar knock comes at exactly the time he wishes it to, soft but insistent, cutting through the quiet of his evening like a hook sinking into flesh.

nanami opens the door still dressed from the office, white button-up with the sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, black jeans sitting low on his hips, the faint musty-clean scent of him drifting out into the hallway, clean and faint cologne and the long day clinging to his skin.

you stand there in another oversized t-shirt that slips off one shoulder and those same tiny sleep shorts that have been haunting him, hair not perfect like you had been caught up in something… private, cheeks already carrying that telltale pink flush. it’s as if last week was repeating itself.

“the router again,” you say, voice small and breathy, but your eyes are not on any imaginary problem. they trace the open collar of his shirt, the broad line of his shoulders, the way his chest fills the doorway. “it keeps dropping signal. i tried everything you showed me last time but… i think i need your help again.”

he should tell you no. should suggest you call the building manager in the morning this time and close the door before the air between you thickens any further. instead he exhales slowly through his nose, jaw tight, and reaches for the small toolbox he keeps by the door without saying a word.

he follows you next door, the faint click of the lock behind him sounding louder than it should. the moment you are both inside the living room the atmosphere shifts, warmer and heavier, like the space itself is holding its breath. you lead him to the same corner shelf where the router sits, but this time you do not hover at a polite distance.

you stand close enough that your bare arm brushes his rough skin when he crouches down to look. the lights on the router are steady green. he knows it is working fine the second he glances at it. and most definitely you know it.

the excuse is paper-thin and neither of you bothers to pretend otherwise.

nanami rises slowly, turning to face you fully, his tall frame casting a shadow over you in the soft lamplight. his eyes do the same slow, solemn drag they did the week before, only heavier now, sharpened by seven long days of fighting the memory of your body.

he watches the way your nipples have already tightened under the thin fabric of your shirt, the subtle press of your thighs together like the ache between them is already building. his cock responds immediately, swelling thick and heavy inside his black jeans, the thick ridge becoming obvious as it presses against the denim. he’s sure a faint damp spot is beginning to form, but he does not try to hide it this time. he lets you see. lets the weight of his stare settle on you like a touch.

“the router is working fine,” he says, voice low and rough, carrying that same stern tone he always uses, like he is delivering a verdict in court rather than standing in your living room with a hard-on he cannot will away. “you know that as well as i do. why did you really call me over here?”

you swallow visibly, eyes flicking down to the clear outline of his cock straining against his jeans before rising back to his face.

your chest rises and falls with a heavier breath, lips parting slightly, but instead of answering you take one slow step back. then another. your hands move to the waistband of your sleep shorts, fingers hooking under the fabric, and you bend forward just enough to slide them down your legs in one smooth motion.

the shorts pool at your ankles and you step out of them, leaving you in nothing but a pair of grey lace panties with delicate pink ribbons threaded along the edges. the soft fabric clings to the curve of your pussy, the faint outline of your folds visible through the thin material, and nanami’s right leg twitches involuntarily, his cock jerking hard inside his jeans at the sight.

his brows draw together in a quick pretend of frown, serious expression tightening. “what are you doing?” he asks, voice dropping even lower, a clear warning threaded through the words. but you do not stop. your fingers catch the hem of your oversized t-shirt next, lifting it slowly, inch by inch, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the delicate dip of your waist, the underside of your breasts.

you pull the shirt up and over your head, letting it drop to the floor beside the shorts, and now you stand there in only the grey lace panties, tits bare, nipples stiff in the cool air of the room. nanami’s breath catches, his hands flexing hard at his sides, the long fingers curling into fists as he fights the urge to reach for you.

he says your name then, low and rough, the syllables heavy with warning. “don’t.” but you only smile, small and soft and knowing, and continue. your thumbs hook into the waistband of the panties, sliding them down your hips with agonizing slowness, the lace catching briefly on the swell of your ass before you let them fall.

you step out of them completely, now fully naked in front of him, skin flushed warm under his heavy gaze. you walk toward him, bare feet quiet on the floor, hips swaying just enough to make your tits move softly with each step. when you are close enough that he can feel the heat radiating from your body, when his mouth opens to speak again, you lift one finger and press it gently to his lips, shushing him.

nanami lets out a small, broken sound, half whimper, half groan, the noise slipping out before he can stop it. his cock throbs visibly in his jeans, another bead of pre-cum soaking into the fabric as the tension coils tighter in the narrow space between your bodies.

he exhales shakily against your finger, eyes dark and conflicted, thick needy lines deepening on his face. “you’re a very young girl…” he trails off, voice rough and strained, the words carrying the weight of every reason he has been telling himself to stay away.

you pull your finger back just enough to speak, voice soft but steady. “i’m legal.”

“barely,” he counters immediately, the word clipped, his gaze dropping despite himself to the bare curve of your breasts, it taught him to squeeze on them and make you feel good, the soft swell of your hips, the smooth skin between your thighs where he can already see the faint shine of arousal. “you’re barely twenty-something. i’m more than twice your age. this… this is not appropriate.”

you tilt your head slightly, still standing naked and unashamed in front of him, the tension so thick it feels like the air itself has weight. “and yet you’re standing here with your cock so hard i can see it twitching through your jeans,” you murmur, eyes flicking down pointedly to the obvious bulge. “you’ve been avoiding me all week, nanami-san, but you still came over the second i knocked. tell me again how inappropriate this is.”

caught him red handed. fuck you.

he lets out another low groan, the sound vibrating in his chest, his hand coming up like he might push you away but instead hovering just above your waist, fingers trembling with restraint. “you have no idea what you’re asking for,” he says, voice quieter now, almost pained. “i’m not some young man who can just… give in without consequences. you deserve better than an older neighbor who can’t keep his eyes off you.”

the banter stretches, slow and heavy, every word laced with the electric pull between you. you step even closer, your bare breasts brushing the front of his white shirt, nipples dragging against the fabric, and nanami’s breath hitches sharply. “then why does it feel like you’ve been thinking about this as much as i have?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. “why do you look at me like you want to bend me over every time we pass in the hall?”

his jaw clenches, the muscle ticking visibly, but his eyes stay locked on yours even as his cock continues to throb between you.

“because i do,” he admits finally, the words dragged out like they cost him something. “i want to. more than i should. but you’re young. barely out of college. and i’m… this.” he gestures vaguely at himself, the musty yet cleaned scent of his body stronger now with the heat rising off his skin, the faint sweat dampening the collar of his shirt. “a tired man who should know better.”

you smile again, softer this time, and reach up to trace one finger along the line of his jaw. “then stop fighting it for one night,” you whisper. “just let yourself have me. i want you, nanami. i’ve wanted you since the first time you fixed my router and looked at me like you were starving.”

the silence stretches again, thick and humming with tension, his breath coming heavier now, chest rising and falling against yours. his hand finally settles on your waist, large palm warm and slightly rough against your bare skin, thumb stroking once, slow and deliberate.

he does not pull you closer yet, but he does not push you away either. the battle is still there in his eyes, solemn and conflicted, but the hunger is winning, inch by aching inch, as the minutes tick by in the quiet room and his cock continues to strain painfully against his jeans, waiting for the moment his restraint finally gives out completely.

nanami’s hand tightens on your waist, fingers spanning wide enough to nearly wrap around the curve of it, and the last of his resistance crumbles like dry paper under the heat of your bare skin against his palm.

he exhales once, long and shaky, eyes still calculated but dark now with the kind of hunger he has been trying to bury for weeks, and then he is moving, guiding you backward until the backs of your knees hit the couch and you sink down onto the cushions. he follows without a word, dropping to his knees between your spread thighs like a man who has finally stopped pretending he can walk away.

his broad shoulders push your legs wider, the white button-up stretching tight across his chest as he leans in, breath hot against the inside of your thigh. he looks up at you one last time, jaw set, like he is giving you one final chance to tell him no, but you only slide your fingers into his neatly combed hair and tug him closer. that is all it takes.

his mouth finds your pussy like he has been starving for it, lips parting to drag a slow, broad stripe up your folds, tongue flat and heavy as he tastes you properly for the first time. the groan that vibrates out of his chest is low and rough, almost pained, because you are already soaked, slick coating his tongue in a way that makes his cock jerk hard inside his jeans.

he licks again, slower this time, savoring the way your thighs tremble on either side of his head, then seals his mouth around your clit and sucks gently, tongue flicking in tight little circles that have your back arching off the couch. one of his huge hands slides up your stomach, palm pressing flat just below your navel, and he pushes down with just enough pressure to make your pussy clench around nothing.

the size of his hand there is obscene, fingers spread wide so his pinky rests near the base of your ribs and his thumb brushes the top of your mound, the sheer scale of him against your smaller frame making everything feel tighter, hotter, more overwhelming.

nanami eats you out like he has all night and nothing else matters, tongue sliding deep between your folds before circling back up to your clit, sucking and licking in a rhythm that builds slow and relentless. his free hand grips your thigh, spreading you even wider, thumb digging into the soft flesh while he buries his face deeper, nose pressing against your mound as he drinks down every drop of you. the wet sounds fill the quiet room, wet and loud, his groans mixing with the slick slide of his tongue and the shaky breaths you keep letting out.

he keeps that steady pressure on your lower belly the whole time, palm rubbing slow circles that make your insides twist and flutter, the tummy bullying so deliberate it feels like he is trying to feel exactly where his mouth is working from the inside. your hips twitch, trying to ride his face, but he holds you down with that big hand, keeping you exactly where he wants you while he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

when you come it hits hard and sudden, pussy pulsing against his tongue as your thighs clamp around his head and a broken moan spills out of you. nanami does not stop. he keeps licking you through it, slower now but just as thorough, tongue dragging over your oversensitive clit until your whole body jerks and you try to squirm away from the intensity.

he only presses his palm firmer against your stomach, holding you in place, the slight overstimulation making your eyes water and your voice crack on his name. “nanami…plea– fuck, it’s too much,” you whimper, but he just hums against you, the vibration sending another sharp spark through your core, and slides two thick fingers into your still-clenching pussy without warning. they stretch you wide, the size of them so much bigger than your own that you feel every knuckle, every ridge, as he curls them deep and starts pumping slow and steady.

he lifts his head just enough to watch his fingers disappear inside you, eyes dark and tempting, lips shiny with your slick. “look at how well you take them,” he murmurs, voice gravel-rough, the praise low and almost reverent as he presses down on your belly again with his other hand, feeling the way his fingers create a very faint bulge against your walls from the outside.

the pressure makes everything tighter, more intense, and you clench hard around him, another wave of overstimulation crashing through you while he keeps fingering you through the aftershocks. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles that have you shaking, the combination of his thick fingers stretching you open and the firm press on your tummy turning every breath into a broken little sob.

he does not rush. he just keeps working you, long fingers dragging along that perfect spot inside while his palm rubs steady circles on your stomach, bullying that soft lower belly until you are dripping down his wrist and whimpering his name like it will make it better than it already is.

only when your thighs are trembling uncontrollably and your pussy is fluttering helplessly around his fingers does he finally ease up, sliding them out slow and careful, bringing them to his mouth to lick clean with a low groan that makes your stomach flip.

he stays on his knees between your legs for a long moment, forehead resting against your thigh, breathing hard while his cock strains painfully against his jeans, the front of the fabric dark with pre-cum. when he finally looks up at you his eyes are still determined, still carrying that quiet conflict, but the hunger has won completely now, and the way he stares at your flushed, marked body makes it clear he is nowhere near done with you tonight.

nanami stays on his knees between your spread thighs for another long, heavy breath, forehead pressed to the soft skin just above your knee while his chest rises and falls like he is trying to steady something inside himself that already broke minutes ago. his fingers are still shiny with you, the faint scent of his skin mixed with the sharp sweetness of your pussy hanging thick in the air.

when he finally moves it is slow and deliberate, like every motion costs him something. he rises to his full height, towering over you on the couch, white button-up wrinkled and damp at the collar from the heat rolling off both of you. his hands, large and steady, slide under your thighs and around your back in one smooth motion, scooping you up off the cushions like you weigh nothing at all.

your legs wrap around his slim waist on instinct, heels digging into the firm muscle of his lower back, and the sudden shift leaves you gasping against his shoulder because he lifts you so easily, strong arms locking you against his chest while your bare pussy hovers right above the heavy bulge still trapped in his jeans.

he does not give you time to look down. one arm stays banded tight under your ass, holding your weight like it is effortless, while his free hand works between your bodies to unbuckle his belt with a quiet metallic clink. the zipper follows, the sound loud in the quiet room, and he shoves both jeans and briefs down just enough to free himself.

you feel the thick, heavy length spring up against your inner thigh, hot and velvet-smooth, the blunt mushroom head already slick and leaking. before you can even tilt your head to catch a glimpse he shifts you higher in his arms, pressing your back against the nearest wall for leverage, and uses that same free hand to guide the fat head of his cock right to your dripping entrance.

the broad tip nudges through your folds, rubbing slow and deliberate, coating himself in your slick while he watches your face with those solemn dark eyes, brows knitted tight like he is still fighting the last scraps of restraint.

“breathe,” he mutters, voice low and rough, the single word almost gentle even as his hips tilt forward. he helps you sink down, one thick inch at a time, the stretch burning so good it makes your jaw go slack and your eyes flutter half-shut.

he is big, thicker than anything you have taken, the veined shaft dragging along your walls as he lowers you steadily until your ass meets his hips and he is buried to the hilt. a quiet groan tears from his throat when he bottoms out, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours, and for a long second he just holds you there, letting you feel every inch of him pulsing deep inside your smaller body.

you’re pressed and folded in an awkward position, and it only makes the size difference feel more obscene, your soft curves dwarfed by his tall, solid frame.

nanami does not wait long. his hands grip your ass harder, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and he starts to move, lifting you up and dropping you back down onto his cock with controlled, powerful strokes that hammer into you deep enough to punch the air from your lungs. each thrust makes your whole body jolt in his arms, tits bouncing under nothing. bare and free for him to watch, back sliding against the wall while he fucks up into you like he has been imagining it for weeks.

his height towers over you completely, shoulders broad enough to block out the room, white shirt straining across his chest with every roll of his hips.

the mushroom head of his cock drags perfectly along that spot inside you on every downstroke, the sheer size of him making your belly bulge slightly every time he bottoms out, a faint outline visible under your skin if you looked down, but he keeps your face buried against his neck so you cannot.

he keeps that steady, punishing rhythm, hips snapping up hard while his arms hold you suspended like you are weightless, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing louder with every thrust. sweat beads along his hairline, dampening the collar of his shirt, and his breath comes in hot, measured pants against your ear.

“too big for you?” he asks, voice strained but still carrying that solemn edge, even as he grinds deep and holds you there for a heartbeat, letting you feel how completely he fills you.

your only answer is a broken moan and loled nod, nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt, legs tightening around his waist as another wave of overstimulation starts building fast. he does not slow down. he just keeps lifting and dropping you onto every thick inch, eyebrows still knitted in concentration, eyes flicking between your slack mouth and the way your body takes him so greedily.

his shirt keeps getting in the way, bunching up between both of you, so he shifts his grip, one hand sliding up to yank the fabric higher until it is completely off of him, exposing his sweaty chest completely to the cool air and your half-focused stare.

now there is nothing between you but sweat-slick skin and the relentless drag of his cock stretching you open. he leans in, mouth finding your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin while he hammers into you harder, the angle shifting so the head of his cock bullies that perfect spot with every upward thrust. your smaller frame jolts in his arms with each powerful stroke, pussy clenching tight around the thick length splitting you apart, and nanami groans low and deep, the sound rumbling through his chest as he feels you start to flutter around him again.

he keeps you pinned against the wall like that, towering over you, strong arms never tiring as he fucks you deep and steady, the size difference so stark it makes your head spin. every time he bottoms out his hips grind against your clit, the pressure on your lower belly from the inside making everything feel tighter, fuller, more overwhelming.

you are already close again, thighs shaking around his waist, voice cracking on his name, and nanami just holds you there, determined eyes locked on your face while he drives you closer to the edge with every heavy thrust, determined to feel you come around his cock before he lets himself follow.

nanami’s rhythm starts to falter just a little, hips snapping up with shorter, more desperate strokes while his breath comes hot and ragged against the side of your neck. he can feel it building fast, that tight coil low in his gut, his heavy balls drawing up tight and aching as your pussy flutters and squeezes around every thick inch of him.

but he refuses to let go first. he is older, more controlled, and right now that control means making sure you fall apart completely before he does.

with a low grunt he shifts his grip, one big hand sliding under your ass to tilt your hips forward while the other presses flat against your lower back, forcing your spine into a deep arch that pushes your pelvis out and opens you up even more obscenely. the new angle is nasty, almost cruel, your body folded and suspended in his arms so your clit grinds hard against the base of his cock on every upward thrust and the fat head of him drags directly into that spongy spot inside you at a brutal upward curve.

your legs dangle wider, heels kicking uselessly against his lower back, the sheer size difference making you feel like you are being split open and rearranged from the inside while he holds you like a toy.

he starts hammering into you with that filthy new angle, cock bullying that spot over and over until your eyes roll back and broken sobs start spilling from your slack mouth.

the overstimulation crashes in hard and fast, your already sensitive pussy clenching and spasming around him while tears prick at the corners of your eyes and start to slip down your flushed cheeks.

your hand flies down between your bodies on instinct, palm pushing weakly at his lower stomach like you can stop the relentless drag of his cock, fingers scrabbling against the damp fabric of his white shirt. nanami’s eyes narrow, jaw tightening, and he leans in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he hisses the words low and dark, “do that again and i’ll fucking hurt you good.”

the threat hits you like a live wire. your whole body seizes, a choked cry tearing from your throat, and then you are squirting hard around his cock, hot fluid gushing out in messy pulses that soak his jeans, drip down his balls, and splatter onto the floor beneath you.

nanami groans deep and filthy at the feeling, the wet heat flooding around him making his cock twitch violently inside you. he does not slow down. if anything he fucks you harder, hips snapping up with wet, punishing slaps while his free hand slides between your bodies and starts tracing tight, relentless infinity signs over your swollen clit with two thick fingers. the pressure is mean and perfect, circling and dragging in that figure-eight pattern while he keeps pounding into that nasty folded angle, cock bullying your g-spot and his fingers never letting up on your overstimulated clit.

“i know, baby, i know,” he rasps against your ear, voice hoarse and strained, the words almost soothing even as he wrecks you. “you can take it. just let it happen.” your legs shake violently around his waist, tears streaming freely now, little hiccuping sobs mixing with the wet squelch of your pussy taking every brutal thrust.

nanami keeps that freaky rhythm going, hips rolling deep, fingers drawing those endless infinity loops over your clit until your vision whites out and another shattering orgasm rips through you, pussy clamping down so hard it almost forces him out. he hisses through his teeth, sweat dripping from his brow onto your chest, but he powers through it, fucking you straight through the peak and into the trembling aftershocks.

his own control finally snaps. his balls tighten almost painfully, cock swelling even thicker inside your fluttering walls as he buries himself to the hilt one last time, grinding deep while thick, hot ropes of cum flood you. he comes with a low, broken groan that vibrates through his chest, pulsing hard and endless, filling you so full that it starts leaking out around his cock in creamy white streaks every time he gives one last shallow thrust.

the mess is everywhere, your squirt and his cum dripping down your thighs, soaking the front of his jeans and pooling on the floor, the obscene wet sounds slowly fading as he keeps you pinned against the wall, still buried deep, both of you heaving for air.

nanami’s forehead drops to your shoulder, breathing hard, the last energy well spent, showing of with both of your sweat-soaked body mixing with the sharp smell of sex filling the room. his arms stay locked around you, holding your smaller frame effortlessly even as his cock twitches with the last weak spurts inside you.

for a long moment the only sounds are your shaky sobs and his ragged breathing, bodies trembling together in the aftermath, messy and spent and still connected. he does not pull out yet. he just keeps you there, suspended in his arms, the quiet weight of everything that just happened settling heavy between you while his cum continues to leak slowly out around where he is still buried deep.

nanami stays buried inside you for what feels like forever, thick cock still twitching with the last lazy pulses while warm cum slowly leaks out around where your bodies are joined, dripping down your thighs and onto the floor in messy little trails.

your legs are still wrapped around his waist, trembling, heels digging weakly into his lower back like you cannot quite let go yet, and he keeps holding you up without any effort, strong arms locked under your ass, keeping your smaller frame suspended against the wall like it is the most natural thing in the world. your shaky little sobs eventually quiet into soft, hiccuping breaths, tears drying on your cheeks, but the overstimulation still makes your pussy flutter weakly around him every few seconds, milking out another thin trickle of his cum.

finally he shifts, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he carefully pulls out, the wet sound loud and obscene in the quiet room.

a thick glob of his cum follows immediately, sliding out of your swollen, puffy pussy and running down to join the mess already pooled beneath you. he lowers you gently until your feet touch the floor, but your legs are too shaky to hold you, so he keeps one arm banded around your waist, steadying you against his chest while his other hand tucks himself back into his briefs and jeans with a quiet zip.

the white button-up is wrinkled and damp with sweat when he puts it back on, black jeans dark at the front from your squirt, but he still looks put-together in that quiet, solemn way of his, even now.

he does not say anything at first. just looks down at you with those dark, heavy eyes, thumb brushing slow circles on your bare hip like he cannot quite stop touching you. then he exhales, long and tired, and rests his forehead against yours for a brief second.

“this…” his voice comes out rough, low, almost reluctant. “this can’t happen again.”

the words hang between you, simple and final, even as his hand lingers on your skin and his cum continues to drip slowly down the inside of your thigh.

he presses one last, almost gentle kiss to your temple, the kind of kiss that feels heavier than any promise, before he steps back. his fingers flex once at his sides like he is fighting the urge to pull you close again, then he turns toward the door, shoulders straight, footsteps quiet on the floor.

“get some rest,” he murmurs without looking back, the manly scent of him still clinging to your skin. “and… call the building manager about the router next time.”

the door clicks shut behind him, leaving you standing there naked and trembling in the middle of your living room, thighs sticky, pussy aching and full of him, the quiet weight of what just happened settling deep in your chest. you know he means it. you also know, deep down, that neither of you really believes it.

A sudden hush falls over the studio—cameramen meeting eyes with each other, and producers who simply couldn’t see past the multi-million yen signs that were popping up in their vision. They’re rubbing their hand together, and urging the handsome man on the seat to continue speaking-

The producer that was more in charge of the B-roll footage speaks to Toji once more, “Now that’s certainly the way to enter this season, Fushiguro-san.” Flipping through the notes given on each condition, “And what else? Could you please tell the audience what you like to do for fun?”

“Hah…going to the gym, martial arts, taking care of my little one.” He scratches behind his neck.

“You have a child, Fushiguro-san?”

“Yeah, I have a son. Just six years old.” And he wonders just what booming sound effect they might add on into the background of this confession. He chuckles just thinking about it - how did Shiu convince him to come on here again? Well…he supposes it might also have something to do with you.

Toji’s eyes slide over deftly to the small screen at the back end of the room - just to get the contestants more familiar with you prior to your actual meeting at the mansion, they were replaying raw B-roll from your own introduction.

And Toji isn’t one to latch onto someone like that but- fuck, his eyes really couldn’t stop drifting over.

The curve of your smile. The way you’re looking behind you.

The way those lashes of your flutters just so—

He’s sure the cameras around him notice and hone in on the slight flickering of his peripherals, and he has to shake his head ever-so-slightly to stop himself from making a fool out of himself right here and now. “Yeah…” He rubs his roughened palms down his thighs, “Could you ah- repeat that last question?”

A few crew members chuckle. “Do you think that being a dad is going to hinder your chances in any way, Fushiguro-san?”

“Nah.” He leans back n’ tightens his crossed arms, scarred lips parting with a grin. “I’m a Fushiguro and I always get what I want—and I know what I want now.”

Eyes wafting over once more.

.

.

.

Most of the contestants still remained after the introduction phase - other than a few that were just plain rude, or the two-toned Zenin bastard that was kicked out for his outdated opinions. Upon entering the mansion, Toji Fushiguro had received your first impression rose that night - a signal to Toji that you’re keeping your eyes on him, and a signal to the 21 other men to up their damn game. 

They were threatened, clearly.

Perhaps that’s why some of them were throwing disgruntled looks his way. Perhaps that’s why they ducked their heads whenever he passed, whispering behind their hands like high schoolers at a slumber party of some sort.

He’s witnessing this bizarreness as he trudges into the mansion’s vast kitchen. And honestly, Toji could almost laugh- but that’s before he’s catching a shred of what garbage they’re spouting. 

“—heard production discussing that he’s a dad.”

That makes him pause.

Though Toji doesn’t let it show on his face, he keeps his hands working on his bottle of protein shake- and his ears turned in the direction of a bunch of stupid bastards that didn’t think they could be heard.

They shoot a few glances at him once more—“You really think she’s gonna fall for an older guy like that? I bet you it’s a pity rose-”

“It’s to get the ratings up, duh.” Another pipes up. “Everyone knows that in the end, she’s never going to go for the old guy.”

“A dad, at that.”

“Shouldn’t he be with his kid, instead?”

“I don’t think she even knows-”

“Probably too embarrassed to tell her-”

SLAM!

The protein shake bubbles over as Toji struggles not to grip it to bits- ultimately ending up banging it down on the marble counter. The group of men swivel their heads around as they realize that he might just have ended up hearing—not so geriatric now, huh?

And Toji feels his face twist into something akin to…a smile. Something welcoming, that you’d never catch dead on his face.

He’s looming one step towards them - just one step - when lo and behold you’re making your way into the kitchen. Baring such a beautiful smile at them all.

And who was Toji to pummel some ugly faces in when your gorgeous one was watching?

Instead, he’s taking you by the hand. 

Not even a second glance at the stunned losers left behind- Toji’s dragging you to the quietest, most private room he can find in this house filled with bachelors. Ultimately—it ends up being his room, and the cameras and microphones can only catch snippets of his confession to you.

“There’s something you hafta know.” Comes out Toji’s usually-gruff tone, “I’m a dad.”

A pause.

And then your voice, “Dad? Like…zaddy?”

Beside himself, he laughs. “No. A dad—I have a son.” And by that excited look in your eyes - the way it piques your interest that this might just be the hottest DILF you’ve ever seen - he already knows that those other bastards are going to eat their words.

.

.

.

“S-so about that- ngh—” All the cameramen had been kicked out - just in time for Toji to let you grapple him onto the creaking bedsprings. Clamoring on top. Swallowing n’ sucking down as much of his thickened length between your legs as you could.

You’re feeling his incredible girth stretching you out- throwing your head back as far as it would go.

As you’re babbling and drooling on his sheer length, Toji clasps onto one side of your hips. He’s using but a fraction of his strength to bounce you towards him - in a figure-eight motion that could barely be completed given the sheer shakin’ of your thighs. Squeezed around him.

Rolling his sage-green eyes with rough laughter, he’s spreadin’ his meaty thighs and bucking up into you—the edge of his cock bulges even deeper inside. Deeper than you ever thought possible. 

Deep enough that your stomach was displaying a slight bulge where he was pushing his erection against your walls. At least you could feel it like so…and the older man wastes no time before reaching up and pressing the front of his palm against it—feeling for that cylindrical outline. “So? Cheh- finish your sentences, doll.”

“I was just about to…” You pout- and he coos. How cute…

Before craning his head down and spitting between those jutted-out lips of yours. Toji looks up at you through the gaps in his shaggy black bangs, “Are those lips wet enough to finally enunciate your words or do I need to spit again?”

“I was saying—so about you being a father…” You’re trailing off - and there’s a glint in his eyes that lets you know that you’ve certainly caught his attention now. Shyly continuing on with the cockdrunken thought that’d been tumbling around your head, “This is definitely too soon- too forward, but um…have you ever thought about perhaps wanting…another…?”

You could barely meet his eyes- fuck.

Though he doesn’t seem to mind that. He’s wrapping his large hand around your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes either way, breathless. Stunned.

Something so charged between the two of you that it’s easily leaving you even wetter—staining the ridges n’ muscles of his abs with your slippery slick.

Toji leans in close enough that you think he’s about to kiss you. Before he suddenly stops - lips millimeters away from your own - and asks. “Who said you could stop, mama?”

Your eyes widen, “Wh-what—oh.”

And you hadn’t realized that in your tension for his response- you’d completely halted your bouncing hips. You’d completely let your cadence peter out.

And Toji Fushiguro couldn’t have that, now, could he? Especially not when he was…

Before you can even gather your thoughts, he’s arching his sculptured back against the comfy mattress. And fuck- you almost wish you had those cameras right about now—because the way his muscles rippled beneath you was heavenly to look at - Toji smirks like he knew exactly what you were thinking about.

That smug quirk of his lips turning into something far wider, something far more feral once he’s holding onto you from beneath and rut-rut-rutting his slick-sheened cock into you.

Hard hits. Dark brows furrowing in concentration. 

Despite you being the one above, you’re completely at the mercy of his swollen cock. 

At the mercy of his heavy balls plapping! against the forefront of your cunt. At the way he’s using one hand to keep you stable on top of his vicious pelvis, and the other to press down upon that one spot on your stomach where he could feel himself—Toji runs his calloused fingers across where his reddened tip was pokin’ into your cervix.

Bashing away - he smiles as he feels every single one. Every single bruise he’s pounding out into your deepest depths.

And you’re wracking with shivers on top of him once Toji presses down. “Like I said- who said you could stop?” 

There it was again. “I-I mean—”

“If you want to be fucked pregnant, then you’ve gotta continue until those pretty legs of yours are begging you to stop.” Your jaw drops as he continues in his hoarse tone, “You’ve gotta need it.” He tap-taps on top of your core, where your poor innards were being absolutely molded to the thickness of his cock. Vein-covered and hot. “You’ve gotta hunger for it—”

And it doesn’t matter what he could say at this point - every single word was sending your mind spinning even further. “I am-” The globes of your ass stinging at the feeling of his contact-driven body beneath. 

“Nuh uh. You’ve gotta work for it, girl—” Emphasized by pushing down on that spot of your tummy once more, “Arch your back.”

Whimpering, you can’t help but listen.

“Heeeeeh- good.” And as a reward, his free hand finds itself slitherin’ between your swollen folds. So sensitive that you’re damn-near sobbing- he teases out your cute clit and gives a few good pinches. “Now clench your pussy. Swerve your hips ‘round and ‘round.”

“L-like this?”

“Mhmmm. You’ve gotta keep on milkin’ my cock for every last drop m’gonna give-”

Your gaze drops between your legs, “I-”

“And then it doesn’t matter if m’shooting blanks—you’ve gotta milk me even more.” Something crazed in his eyes, he’s leaning into your kiss with a smile. Again and again; he’s splitting up the sweetest syrupy orifices inside you - and with only a few more sloppy slashes inside, you’re feeling your body get overcome by the waves of your high.

It fills you up with an initial warmth- from the tips of your toes and to the crown of your head.

Toji snickers as he fucks you through the soaring pleasure, making you feel as though you were on cloud nine. You’ve never known yourself to cum this easily with someone else before - and it’s only growing stronger and stronger inside of you given every thud-thud-thud against your cute g-spot. 

Roverin’ his red, rounded tip and keeping it there—

You swear you feel his rock-hard cock start to bead out in even more pre- and perhaps something…even more?

“Follow all that n’ we’re not just going to win the season with an engagement…” Toji snickers to himself, palm massaging over the tummy bulge he was fucking into you. “But a baby, too.”

“O-oh…”You wondered how the producers were doing to explain away this.

♡ NANAMI KENTO - HEART RATE <3

“My name is Nanami Kento, I’m 27.” Such a deep, droning tone—one that immediately catches the attention of those watching, one that immediately sets the speakers slightly, sensually alight. 

The camera pans upwards, up and up: revealing a firm torso, clad in such a smart suit. Sculptured core. Strong shoulders. Blond, slicked-back hair that glistened with a thin sheen of gel underneath the studio lights.

Nanami wonders what clips they’d be playing for his B-roll montage - something with the mock-business calls the producers made him act out, something with the sweet treats he bakes as a hobby, something with the long walks on the beach.

The entire process has been a whirlwind ever since Shoko signed him up- for a joke, mind you.

He never expected to actually see himself on trash- ahem, eccentric television.

And yet, here he was.

Hot around his collar as he sneaks a glance at a small screen to the side, replaying raw footage of the show—but most importantly, you. Nanami gulps.

“I’m looking for something serious.” He hopes he doesn’t sound as awkward as he feels, and the tips of his ears tingle once he’s looking away from the screen. “My friends signed me up for this show because they think I’m married to my work- hah. Perhaps I do tend to get caught up in it sometimes, but I really do hope to get married someday…to someone sweet, someone tender.” Nanami glimpses at your smile once more, “To someone I can come home to- not a physical house, but to someone I can leave my heart safe with.”

A producer whispers a question.

“Oh? What’s my position at work?” He repeats the question, before staring straight down the barrel of the camera, “CEO.”

.

.

After an early coupling—the producers couldn’t have anyone closed off too early, of course. Where was the fun in that?

And so came…the challenges.

Just a few days into mingling, the producers pulled you aside to let you know that you’d be taking part in the first challenge of the season: The Heart Rate challenge. 

The rules were simple - you were subjected to three minutes of a striptease from each of the contestants, in whatever manner and outfit they chose. In the meantime, a heart rate monitor would be tracking your BPM to announce which contestant had raised your heartbeat the most with their performance. 

Simple…right?

Not.

Not quite when there were 18 (a slight drop from the initial 22) of some of the hottest men baring you with their washboard abs- showing off their sculptured shoulders- shyly bringing themselves closer to you. And though it’d been a tie between a certain white-haired model and your favorite DILF (who’d promised he’d be the one to win), who would’ve guessed that calm, collected Nanami Kento would’ve been the one to catch your eye the most?

He was clunky in his moves, that was true, but the ultimate killing shot came towards the end of his somewhat-awkward routine—when Nanami had leaned in close- half-dressed in his suit, tie dangling ‘round his neck - he’d forgone any extravagant costume.

Closer and closer. You were sure he’d be kissing you before…he gently grasped your hand and pressed his lips to your inner wrist. 

Right on the erogenous zone.

To you, at least, it hadn’t been a surprise when Nanami had won the heart rate challenge.

Toji’s jaw had dropped- the producers were loving this.

And your reward - a night at a getaway suite with no cameras - had ended up a little…

“N-ngh—” Your mouth gapes open on top of the silken pillowcase, spit leaking out at a dizzying rate. Back arching. Thighs clenching-

Nanami shoves a hand between your pretty legs n’ spreeeeads your pussylips apart for him to slip in easier. “Now now, my love…” His smoky breath rumbles beside your temple, head bowed into the crook of your neck. The blond man feels a single line of tears splash down your cheeks, and he’s running his flattened tongue up the salty liquid- “Has this pussy never been fucked by a gentleman before?”

Before you know it, the rugged hand at your core smacks! down on your puffy lips. And you whimper- “Shit, no—?”

“Oh, reeeeeeally?” Nanami’s sweet, sweet tone coos at you—and you’re given no warning before his beefy right arm wraps around your neck in a headlock. “I fear I could tell, darling.”

Just the slightest twitch of his grin- pressed against the clammy side of your neck.

It’s all you’re getting before Nanami’s reeling his toned back even further, even hungrier - he lets his reddened, bulbous tip throb-throb-throb at your first ring of muscle before shoving it all the way down to the bottom. All the way until your walls have gobbled him down to the hilt, and you’re gasping as you struggle to take him.

Spit drivelling. Fists clenching the pillowcase.

And so he waits.

Juuuuuust waits and watches his massively thickened length disappear between those pussylips of yours. Until you’re starting to whimper. Until you’re starting to perk your hips up impatiently-

And Nanami plasters you to his firm body- the weight of his hips leaning down upon yours. The muscles of his v-line digging into the globes of your ass. Pinning you down to the comfy mattress—he’s then languidly gliding his shaft in and out. In and out.

With the most lecherous squelches! Nanami starts off slow at first - looooong and languid…before then thrashin’ himself carnally inside. “Easy—easy there.” Raspy whispers in your ear, “When you take a cock this- hah, big you hafta take it slooooow, my love.”

Your legs twitch as he’s easing inside a few inches even deeper, probin’ that girthy top into the base of your cunt. “Sh-shit…”

“C’mon.” Nanami grumbles, “Breathe with me, my love- breathe.”

“Breathe?”

“Mhm—s’what you do when it’s hard to take.” He huffs, “Never been taught that by those other boys, hm? Never been made to stretch like thiiiiiis-” Just as long as he elongates his words, his knobbly fingertips scissor open your crevice slightly- making it even easier for him to slip in and out. “Never had this needy pussy fed- hah, until she’s full? My poor lady…Never had these spots over here-” You’re trembling as he swipes down tender orifices, “-stimulated, hm?”

Shaking your head.

He audibly controls his breathing, urging you to do the same.

“Thought so. Now breathe in slooooow—” The blond man directs you- and when you’re taking too long to listen, he’s slammin’ his hand down on top of your cunt with another spank. “Yeah-” Once you’re listening to him after a few struggling seconds- “Yeah, you’ve got it. Take in a deep inhale f’me…” 

Just as you do, your stomach contracting with the action, he’s mazin’ away a few more lewd inches - his palm skidding upwards to press down on your stomach. Feeling for himself as he pushes and pushes and pushes inside—“And then- fuck. Then exhale.” Nanami’s usually-steady tone almost…wavers as he says so. 

“It feels so—mmm, good.” You’re babbling away as he slots inside. Almost as if your cunt was made for him, he’s lodging against every slick ridge, crevice, and bundle of nerves. 

Hitting all the way at the very bottom.

He cracks a little smile, “And that’s how a gentleman fucks.”

Hiccuping, those torturous strokes of his made you wrack with primal shivers. “B-but I want it more-” Attempting to push yourself up onto your elbows, “I want it harder, Nanami-”

“Kento.”

Before you can babble out something questioning at his sudden interruption, you’re being shoved right back down onto the springy suite bed. The luxurious mattress engulfing you. The globular head of Nanami’s cock propels even deeper inside you.

He crushes his bicep even harder around your neck- cutting off your airway.

Even harder.

And you’re choking n’ sputtering - both on the stronghold he had on you, and on the thorough movements of his shaft shovelling inside. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as he lodges himself straight at the spongy door to your womb.

Nanami tugs you up to his firm front then, “Call me Kento when we fuck.” Something different in his tone now - something dark and barely held back. It’s as though he was gnawing down on his bottom lip to keep himself in check, he lets out a roughened grunt as he plants one hard stroke—one incredibly hard stroke. “And be careful what you wish for, darling.”

For a gentleman never denies his lady, right?

You whimper. 

Steadying his hips, he’s somehow managing to stretch your delicate walls out to his shape. Somehow managing to rub n’ pinpoint the most sensitive areas with his flared ridges. Already locating where your sweetest spot was- Nanami inches his long cock backwards and bashes it right near your g-spot.

Harder and deeper. Harder and deeper. Again and again. Just so thorough that it feels as though his round, red tip was pushing into your very throat.

In just a few sloppy strokes, he’s mapped out your entire cunt.

And no matter how much you’re moanin’ and clawing at the headboard - attempting to pull yourself up as though you’re caught between fucking down to him and moving yourself away - Nanami merely has to tighten his beefy arm ‘round your neck and haaaaaul you right back down. Pressing you against his plush pecs. 

“For m’not going to leave this cunt high n’ dry like those other boys-” He whispers in your ear, callused fingertips darting down your slippery crevice to pinch your clit. Those pearly white canines of his nip at the shell of your ear, “I’ll have you know that I’m a man, my love. I’m a gentleman.”

Tears welling up in your eyes, “A-and that means…?”

“And that means I’m going to treat you as this lady-” Rolling over your sweet nub - it sends sparks up your spine. “-deserves to be treated. I’m going to take you out to a nice- loooooong dinner. I’m going to fly you out anywhere your sweet heart desires, my love. I’m going to take you out shopping and- fuuuuck.” The irritated end of his shaft trickles out hot precum, “I’m going to let you try to max out my debit cards- ”

You catch his emphasis, “Try?”

He chuckles, “You sure can try. And then…” Before you’re left eagerly wondering what else he has to say- Nanami rests his cockhead against your g-spot inside.

And then he’s making your poor walls bulge with the sheer force of him digging in and in- such raw pleasure that it makes moans rip at your throat. He didn’t know where you were drooling more from at this point - your mouth or your cunt.

Nanami’s golden hair nearly curtains his gaze now, though that doesn’t shield you from the sheer intensity of it. “And only then am I going to fuck this pretty lady.” He plasters his reddening pelvis against the globes of your ass cheeks, “After such a long, hard day of being spoiled- best believe that m’gonna fuck her to sleep. Fuck orgasm after orgasm out of you.”

“A-and what about you?” You’re turning your head backwards to get a good look at the handsome man, “Aren’t you going to cum, Kento?”

“Oh, my love…” It was just so cute how fucked you were - how you still had your manners despite being so. The sweetest smile graces his face, “Having you cum ‘round my cock is my greatest pleasure.”

And then you’re cumming.

Oh- you can’t help it. Head throwing back into his collarbone. Hands grasping at his own- ones in a headlock around you.

Those zaps of electricity curl at your toes, heat taking over your body, and all it takes is a single glide—down the pulsating area of your g-spot for you to be thrown completely over the edge. Wave upon wave of euphoria floods your body until you feel numb- and through it all, Nanami’s slick-glossed cock was shoving into you at a rapid rate. “Please…” Your mouth waters at the perfect way that Nanami was fucking you through each peak, “Sh-shit, it feels so good-”

Vein-covered cock massaging you up and down, in and out.

Even the tiniest bumps of his prominent veins leave you seeing stars- twinges of pleasure exploding between your legs. Your body goes slightly limp during the crescendo of your high.

“Oh, don’t tap out just yet, my love.” 

And something primal inside you twitches at the sound of calm, cool, collected Nanami Kento’s voice like this- before you’re feeling his buff arms pull you right back to him.

“Because this is just the beginning-” He presses a soft kiss to your temple, “-isn’t it, my love?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - One-on-one.

“Hm? Oh, who doesn’t like long walks on the beach?” Geto laughs something deep and rich- unabashed. Blowing his knee-length hair out of his face, some of those Stygian strands get tucked delicately behind one ear. “My name is Geto Suguru, I’m 28, and I’m a professional masseuse.”

Geto’s murky amethyst eyes stare down the camera.

He already knows he’s got them captivated.

He crosses his legs, hands intertwining on top of them. Geto’s smile was utterly feline towards the lens, “And don’t take this the wrong way, but…” When his best friend had jokingly suggested joining this show- he didn’t think that it’d be so fucking fun. “-I’ve never had to chase anyone in my life.”

Geto feels the temperature in the studio drop a few degrees.

A producer stutters, “Y-you aren’t serious…are you, Geto-san?”

“Dead serious.”

He might get his scenes cut out and edited together to paint him as the villain- he doesn’t care. Because it was true—really.

All the confessions, the letters, the sneaking glances down the street. It wasn’t a lie that Geto Suguru never had trouble with the ladies and gentlemen and everyone in-between - to the point where he’s almost grown bored of it. But—you?

He’s seen the raw footage of you on the screens around, and he can’t deny that he was damn intrigued.

You were a challenge. You were someone that made his heart race- and oh, wasn’t that a strange feeling?

“So it’s nice that the roles are flipped for once.” He continues, flashing that infamous smile - breaking a few hearts, or so he’s sure they’ll make it seem so in production later - at the camera once more. He knows how these shows go…“At least, for now.”

.

.

.

“Fuck, Suguru-” Dreamy mewl echoing out in the enclosed space, bouncing off those polished wooden walls. It sounded even louder in the production-made massage room - like music in Geto’s ears.

Geto’s expert hands slide down your body, coated in a sheen of oil.

It smears down your skin—illuminating the spots that he touched. Which seemed quite fitting, in your opinion, as wherever Geto’s fingers traced seemed to leave you alight - his thumb digs into one particularly stubborn knot on your right calf and you shiver.

“Tell me if it gets too much, gorgeous.”

“I will.” You just barely manage out.

The numbers had dropped down to 15, and it’d been time for the one-on-one dates. After your getaway with the blond man, Geto had been the first to whisk you away from the mansion once more—and needless to say that production was having a lot of fun with his profession as a masseuse. The best in Tokyo, actually.

Clients travelled far and wide for an appointment with him - and you’re beginning to understand why.

With you spread face-forward on the smooth table, with your arms crossed in front of you- lips cracking gently open with a sigh once his rugged fingers touch on just one spot—

“R-right there.” On your inner thighs. Too aware of the cameras surrounding you two, you still can’t keep the pleasure out of your voice. 

And Geto shifts aside the towel on your otherwise-naked body - shooting a content smile at the camera as they don’t get to see - to rub up on that specific spot once more. “Here?”

Biting on your lower lip, you’re nodding your head. “There.”

Bit by bit. Press by press; he’s inching up the plane of your right leg - kneading and unravelling those knots you didn’t even know you have. He massaged you so well that you could moan. And just as Geto’s fingertips are about to become so blissful that you might have to ask him to pause - not for you, but for the cameras - he speaks. “You’re very tense here, I can tell you don’t let yourself rest.” The crowns of his thumbs rolling circles at your inner thigh, “You have so many knots here- if you want, I could…nevermind.”

And you’re looking over your shoulder at him with an anticipating gaze. “What was that, Suguru?”

“It’s stupid.” He shrugs sheepishly- though the glint in his eyes was telling you a whole different story. “It’s just…there’s this other type of massage that I never actually offer- but it might help you…unravel your body a bit more. But forget about it-”

“Let’s do it.”

And his lips quirk upwards.

And you knew what he was inferring- you fucking knew it. Which is exactly why you’re holding back a slight smirk as it takes Geto Suguru exactly 1 minute and 30 seconds to kick the camera crew out.

Then less than that to hoist himself up onto the massage table as well, to tug his baggy pants down, n’ have you bouncing on his cock. 

Spit leaking down one side of your lips as you’re crashing your mouth against his pretty, puckered one- moaning straight into the hot, open-mouthed kiss as Geto’s thick cock swabs inwards. He was just about eight inches, and decorated with so many veins—he might just be stretching you out in ways you never thought were possible to feel before.

The plumpness of his cockhead, the zig-zagged patterns of his veins.

Geto didn’t just have his size going for him- he manages to curve his incredible length just perfectly inside your tight channel. Targeting your sweet spot within mere moments of finding himself between your legs—“Oh-ohhhh.” Crackling out from the back of your throat, “S-Suguru, that feels sho good.”

“Sho good, huh?” You feel his grin against your own mouth, “Don’t tell me you’re that cockdrunk already, gorgeous? And I haven’t even used my fingers on you, yet…”

Before you know it, he’s reaching up his mean left hand- letting it smush your cheeks together. You’re sure that that makes you create such a lewd expression upon your features, but Geto merely beams down at you as though you were the most beautiful creature he’s ever set his eyes upon.

Amethyst peripherals murky with something indiscernible. “C’mon- can you say something without slurring? Can you count from one till ten?”

Crossly- you couldn’t believe his sheer audacity right now. “Of course I can count until—ngh.” Only to be cut off with a thorough slash of his rounded cockhead- you feel it throbbing right against the spongy layer of your cervix.

Gluing himself even deeper with a few wads of his sploshin’ sap. He cracks a smirk, “That’s not the way you count till ten.”

Your mouth gapes.

And Geto takes his long, lingering time to lean closer and spit straight between your stunned lips - before using that left hand of his to close your mouth. “You’ll catch flies, gorgeous.” He titters to himself. The massage table creak-creak-creaks with each thrust of his - and his pace was something thorough and lingering.

Geto knew that his mushroomy tip felt good - and he was using it to his advantage. Not a single hammer of his hips was without reason—he was making sure to massage all the inner linings of your walls - every nook and hidden crevice - before he’s emptying out dollop after dollop of pre at the very bottom of your pussy. Giggling to himself at the way you’re utterly ruined on his long, long length- “Yeah- fuck, yeah. My poor baby can’t even speak?”

Your g-spot, however…he merely teases. Lightly grazing his flared tip near that treasure trove of nerve ends, but never quite hitting it. Again and again.

The velvety walls ‘round that spot quiver with need.

“But can she at least remember her own name?” He echoes. And throughout it all, you’re mindlessly attempting to angle your hips further into his- the ruthless man grabs onto a handful of your hair with his right hand. Jerking your face to look into his own, “I said- can she at least remember her own name?”

You hiss at the searing burn—

“Tell me your name, my cockdrunk girl.”

“Suguru- fuck.” Barely even registering the question - you doubt you could even hear him by this point. 

Merely babbling away expletives at the way he’s fucking his cock up even more rudely—he’s poundin’ and poundin’ up into you in sloppy, structured hits. Deep. And Geto peers up into your dazed pupils whilst he fucks you - whatever he’s seeing there makes him smile, “Suguru? Heh- you think that’s your name, gorgeous?”

Mouth gaping, “I-I mean…”

“Well, you’re not technically wrong.” He hums- more to himself than anything. 

And by now he’s rammin’ his length away into you at such a pace that the pap-pap-papping sounds were nearly louder than your own mewls. The sheer pressure of the strokes leaving you limp. Tenderly, you’re pushing your face into the sweaty crook of his neck- only for Geto to pull you back once more with the vicious restraint he has on you. 

Making you stare into his ravenous gaze, “Look at me when m’speaking, gorgeous- you might be fucked stupid but you’ve gotta remember your manners, right?” Taking your cutesy whimpers as an affirmation, “And you might not be Geto Suguru but…how about Mrs. Geto Suguru?”

Shockwaves of pleasure cascade down your spine.

“Yeah- yeah, you like that?” Snickering to himself - who’d have thought you’d be such a romantic? He was, too…not that he was fucking you like it.

Geto was fucking you rough and hard- bruisin’ his rotund girth at the back of your pussy. He was leaving his mark for anyone else that came after - let them know that he’d been the one to make you feel so good. “I can take your last name, too, if you’d like.” 

You’re breathless, “You- you really want to win—”

“Oh? So you can speak.” He speaks with slight amusement, “And, gorgeous- I really want to make you mine.” His tip bulges even bigger at the feeling of you clamping down- shit, it feels so good that he has to gnaw down on his bottom lip to keep from making any embarrassing noises. Panting out again, “Mrs. Geto Suguru.”

“Fuck-” You’re bouncing down onto his gluttonous cock.

“Mrs. Geto Suguru-”

“Please-”

“Mrs. Geto Suguru—” The pretty man smiles to himself as he’s finally - finally - pressin’ down on the button of your g-spot. Watching as your thighs quake, watching as your eyes spin to the back of your head. “Cum on my cock, Mrs. Geto Suguru.”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Who the hell doesn’t wait after knocking?

Surely part of the producers’ ploy; both your heads snap in the direction of the massage room door to see a flash of auburn hair—followed almost immediately by the door slamming closed once the intruder registers what he’s witnessing. And a familiar skater boy’s voice emanating through the slim wooden panel, “S-sorry–!”

You and Geto can do nothing but look at one another.

You’re sure the rest of the contestants would be hearing about this very…very soon.

Though Geto doesn’t look perturbed in the slightest. And he’s the first to move-

He’s the first to flip your positions around so that you’re splaying your back against the massage table now. His toned body hovering over you, he doesn’t waste a second before swatting- yes, swatting aside your trembly thighs n’ swivelling his length inside once more.

Long, luxurious slides down the narrow channel of your cunt.

You’re taking his strokes with a moan, “Suguru—y-you’re not bothered by- ngh, that in the slightest?”

“Why would I be?” He answers. And with that said, his soft fingertips snake between your legs- pinching that swollen clit of yours. “In fact…”

Just the slightest roll of his thumb - and you’re already feeling pleasure wreak havoc on your body. Then he’s pressing, then he’s tugging- then he’s alternating between teasing and pulling and massaging your needy nub over and over in ways that drive you wild. Spelling out what you’re piecing together to be his name—

Geto was about to show you what a masseuse could truly do.

“-how about we step up that volume, Mrs. Geto Suguru?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Fan-favorite.

“I-I’m Choso Kamo, I’m 29, and…um, I honestly don’t know why I’m here.” The dark-haired man beneath the spotlight fidgets with his thumbs, lips barely moving as he attempts to continue the introduction that he’s surely fucked up by now. “My little brother submitted an application on my behalf because he thought that The Bachelorette would be p-perfect for me to find someone and…um…yeah…”

The producers look at each other. Eventually, one of them calls out—“So is she?”

Choso startles- almost as if he didn’t expect to be addressed. Almost as if he didn’t expect himself to be perceived at all. “Well…”

And his eyes drift towards the small screen behind the camera - one that had been playing B-roll footage of you so that the contestants could get more familiar prior to the actual meetings. Oh. It’s strange how as soon as his gaze latches onto you, his eyes can’t seem to find any other purpose but to linger.

Choso’s shoulders raise up to his ears- as if to cover the faint blush that was creeping onto them. “Yeah…” He whispers, “Yeah, she’s just beautiful.”

And it’s all quiet on-set for a second—nothing sounding out but the mechanical hum of the lens as it zooms in on the flush he can’t deny. Choso jumps back a bit as he realizes just what they’d been focusing on, and he’s flickering his eyes uncertainly towards the cameraman behind it- “Are those things always going to be on?”

The other man nods, deadpan.

“Oh.” Choso gulps, “W-well I made sure my little brothers won’t be watching this season- but for the erm…Tiktaks? For the Tiktak edits they’re sure to get, could you make sure you get my good side, please?”

A producer asks, “And just for your brothers- if you could say something to them now, what would you say?”

And he gets a slightly determined smile upon his pretty, pretty face. “Your big brother’s going to win.”

.

.

.

“So…bachelors, as you may know, this week’s Rose Ceremony is going to be like no other- because tonight we’re introducing the infamous golden rose—” A hush falls over the set. The host turns and blinds you and the lined-up contestants with his smile - one of those contestants being your future husband, perhaps.

You’re nodding back at him with a confidence you hoped your expression falsified.

And he turns back to the camera, “Tonight, whoever you choose to hand the golden rose to-” An impression rose just like the others before it, only this time it’d been sprayed gold and held a weight far heavier than just the paint. “-is who you’re going to be going on a three-day romantic getaway, with a honeymoon suite to boot—! No cameras.”

Twisting the rose nervously in your hands, your mind still whirled with names. So many handsome men. So many eligible bachelors- fuck, how were you ever going to choose?

“But…there’s a catch.”

12 contestants - and you - snap their heads over to the slyly beaming host. 

He claps his hands in satisfaction, “You won’t be the one choosing your getaway partner.” Your jaw drops- and the host continues into the greedy lens—“It’ll be all of the world that’s been voting, day in and day out, throughout this week to pair up just who they want to see more of. Just who they think will be the perfect match for you…” 

“Oh goodness.” You feel something - excitement, anticipation, fear - shoot through your blood vessels.

And looking straight at you, the host pulls out a glossy envelope from his suit jacket. You’re eyeing it as though it was a ticking bomb - and he merely waffles at the camera some more. “And our viewers have chosen: your romantic companion, your getaway partner, the man you’ll be sharing a bed with is—” The words hang in the air for a few more seconds, perhaps minutes, perhaps what feels like hours. “Choso Kamo.”

.

.

.

“Shit…” Choso’s jaw drops, pupils turned into the cutest lil’ hearts and peering right up at you—as you lower yourself down onto him. 

His sensitive, twitching shaft disappears between your pussylips, and one hand of his immediately darts upwards to clasp at the side of your waist. Even just touching you like this…fuck, it sends bursts of electricity shooting from the tips of his fingers and up to his frazzled brain- then right back down again to his rock-hard cock.

He doesn’t think he’s been harder in his entire life.

Choso’s letting out a rugged moan as he fits inside your dripping wet cunt with a sluuuuurp! Pretty brown eyes rolling to the back of his skull- he’s shocked once he flutters them open to find that you’ve leaned yourself closer to him.

“O-oh, god…” Words barely a whisper. 

One of your hands softly cupping the side of his face, “Something wrong, baby? Would you like to stop?”

“No.” The answer explodes out of him faster than he can control, and before you can register it - before he himself can register it - Choso’s quickly pressing both hands deeper against your hips to keep you from leaving. Even though there didn’t seem to be any immediate urgency of that- he doesn’t let up for a single second.

Digging his nails into your flesh- he’ll apologize for that later. Planting his feet on the soft mattress. 

He slams you down to pin that hot, wet cunt of yours against his pelvis - until your clit caresses his happy trail—such a primal scratch down where you were most sensitive. And his body moves before his damn mind as Choso’s swabbin’ his cock inwards-

Not with any specific rhyme nor reason in mind.

Nothing but the primal urge to fill you up - to chase that heavenly squeeze of your walls. They’re spreadin’ apart juuuuust wide enough to gulp down his inches, and then when he’s reeling his hips back you’re clamping down until the man’s held hostage- gladly.

Shit- his lower lip trembles at the feeling. This was like nothing he’s ever felt before- and he hasn’t—

“You’re a virgin, Choso?” Your sweet, sweet hum breaks through the haze of his lust- just about the only thing he hears past the papping! of his hips arching up into yours.

And the man below you blinks up in confusion for a few seconds- long lashes dotted with tears. Before the smile upon your face makes him realize that his muddled brain - all your pussy’s fault - might have just said those last thoughts out loud…

You’re coming to the same realization he is. And you’re cooing down at him- pushing aside the sweat-dampened curls of his bangs. “Awww, pussydrunk already, baby?”

“M-mhm…” He’s nodding languidly.

“Tha’s alright.” You tut, “You’re doing so well for your first time- oh.”

Almost as if jinxing it - though that really wasn’t your fault, he was barely holding himself together as is - he throws his head back n’ lets his aching cockhead dribble out a few wads of…cum. Just from that. Just a few ivory beads of sap that glue to the veeeeery back of your pussy, making Choso lose his mind every time he’s gliding down your cervix and feeling his mess splosh ‘round inside you. 

A singular line of cum leaks out of you, and Choso shivers as he catches it. “S-sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to-”

“Nothing to apologize about.” You’re cutting him off with a smile, meeting his thrusts by grinding your cunt down to meet his cock. “You’re still doing so well, baby…fuck, look how much you’re cumming.” And with that said- Choso thinks he sees the pearly gates themselves open up once you’re spreadin’ aside your thighs—just the slightest bit.

But Choso Kamo takes one look between your naked, shivering legs and moans.

Your pussy was just drenched in his cum - absolutely drenched. He hadn’t even recognized that he’d been cumming so much until he’s taking a peek, and he’s watching a few velvety ribbons of seed run down either side of your legs - creating a sheen that smears n’ spreads the more you’re meeting his cadence with your own. Skin against skin.

He’s letting out a ruined whimper—and you’re pushing down on his chiselled chest with a snicker. “See that, baby? You’ve been- hah, holding back for so long.” Even the slightest sound of your voice is enough to make his overstimulated cock spark with pleasure- he’s sure he empties out a few more droplets of cum. “How long have you been wanting to fuck me?”

Choso startles- eyes darting up to meet your expression. Damn that smile of yours. “I-I don’t know what you’re…”

“Oh, c’mon—” Teasing him. Putting pressure on his toned body, you’re now fully letting him recline- it was just so fun how much in awe Choso was…especially when you’re taking control instead.

Almost as if he was being thrown further and further into dreamland with every sloppy drag of your cunt - swallowing him up from his round, blushin’ tip and aaaaall the way to his hilt. His heavy balls, tightening as though he wanted to cum again. “With the way you’re grabbing me? With the way you’re- hah, rutting up to me?” Shoving between his pecs once more—“Down, boy.”

He whimpers.

“How long have you been wanting to fuck me, Cho?” Your lips twitch with amusement- he looks torn between sobbing in pleasure and sobbing in embarrassment. “It’s alright…I won’t judge-”

“Always—” Choso finally echoes out with a sudden squeeze of your velvety pussylips.

Practically wrenching the answer out of him- he laughs out something hollow at the back of his throat. “I’ve a-always wanted to…ngh.” The pointed edge of his tip draaaaags down your cervix, and he’s shivering as he recognizes just where your womb was. If only he could…“Ever since I first met you, I-I’m ashamed to admit but I’ve always wanted to stuff myself between those gorgeous legs.”

You’re giggling scandalously at his admission.

But Choso wasn’t done just yet-

Soon enough, he’s using the firm hold upon your hips to increase n’ increase his pace. Grabbing you firmly and burrowing his cum-soaked tip deeply between your folds- “I’ve wanted to know what she’d feel like wrapped around my cock.” Almost on cue, he’s throbbing between your legs- even harder. “Wanted to know how she tasted-” 

“Don’t tell me you’re…”

And without a second thought, one hand lifts off your body - for the briefest split-second - to swipe at your sopping slit. Catching a few droplets of your mess and bringing it up to his lips to suck.

He moans at the taste of you, “Wanted to know how she’d take me. Wanted to feel her get stuffed-” Choso grumbles, and you’re vying to catch up with his needy pace - utterly needy. “Wanted to fill her up so much that every other man afterwards w-would be able to feel me…”

And then he’s trailing off, a harsh blush flooding his pretty features.

“B-but that’s just stupid-”

“Why’s that stupid?” He looks up at you in shock- only to find that you’re already beaming. “How would you know if you don’t try? Heh.”

“I think m’gonna cum again.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - BOMBSHELL!

“These losers aren’t going to know what fuckin’ hit them.” Sukuna scoffs, crossing those beefy arms in front of him. Unlike the introductions for the other contestants, he had…his t-shirt off. For what reason, you might ask?

Well, you’d go unanswered.

Even the producers were unsure just what had compelled their latest bombshell to display his chiselled front. But that didn’t stop them from keeping the cameras rolling- already knowing that audiences were going to go wild for the pink-haired, foul-mouthed addition to your roster. “Name’s Ryomen Sukuna- remember that. Age doesn’t matter. Occupation’s professional MMA fighter.”

He gestures to those scarred ears of his, as most fighters don like medals.

Behind him, there’s cues for footage of his uproarious and successful MMA career - particularly one clip of him winning the title of UFC light heavyweight champion last year - to be added in post-production. And he cocks his head to the side with a chuckle, “Best know that I’ve never lost a match before- and I don’t plan to change that anytime soon. I bet those losers at the mansion- and my pretty lady are going to be damn excited to see me.”

There’s a cue card for him to talk about his hobbies.

“Haaah…” All that boring shit- he wonders who gets off to small-talk on a show like this. “Boxing. Lifting. Meditation. Cardio- many different types of it.”

One producer pipes up, “And why that part about remembering your name, Sukuna-san? Could you clarify that for the viewers?”

“Heh-” Sukuna leers something sinful, crimson eyes flickering over to the small screen of your own footage. It was some B-roll of your own introduction interview, muted for the moment yet he thinks he could almost hear your soft chuckle in his ears- playing on repeat over and fucking over. “Because my future wife’s gonna be moaning it soon enough.”

Someone drops a boom pole.

There’s a cut in filming called out. He knows they won’t be editing that out.

.

.

.

“H-haaaah, now that’s just unfair.” 

Toes curling. Your back arching deeply into Sukuna’s sculptured front- it was almost Herculean how he flexed and tensed his abs to show off…particularly when it came to ramming his hips up into yours. Out of all of the contestants, Sukuna was the only one to put you in a full nelson.

“Heh- what’s unfair?” Sukuna’s deep trundle makes your body erupt in shivers- the smugness was practically seeping into every syllable. “Isn’t the bombshell supposed to mess up this pussy- whoops, I mean…season?”

“You’re messing up nothing but my peace that’s for sure…” You’re grumbling back at him - slightly nervous to meet his crimson eyes.

Though you’d have been foolish to think that the MMA fighter wouldn’t catch that- he’s grasping the edge of your chin with a single hand. Tugging your face behind to look at him. All of it in just a few seconds. And Sukuna raises one pink brow as he smirks, “Look me in the eyes when you’re saying something like that, brat.”

“Y-you’re messing up nothing but my peace—” You’re just barely managing to stammer out - Sukuna was savage with his thrusts. And they’re only seeming to grow even faster as you’re answering, as though he wanted to see you struggle n’ choke around his thick cock. 

Around that pierced head of his.

The frigidness of his metallic Prince Albert runs down the sides of your walls - and he’s purposefully stopping right before where your g-spot was pulsing. “That’s not what this cunt’s telling me.”

And without any warning, he’s reaching one hand down and smacking! the swollen top of your pussylips. 

“Isn’t that right, my pretty girlie?” 

Not talking to you—he’s talking to your cunt now. 

Dragging the fatness of his thumb - that greedy edge - vertically down your sopping slit. He collects the wetness that leaks out of you, “My wet girlie—yer a lot more honest than this one here, hm?”

You shiver as he slams his rugged palm down on your cunt once more. 

How’d you even get here?

Right now, the contestants had been weaned and weeded out until only your very favorites had remained…and then there was Sukuna. It was just today that the bombshell MMA fighter had been introduced to the mansion, and for the short amount of time he’d gotten here- he’d already started seven fights, triggered an emergency meeting, and had enough time to whisk you away on a one-on-one date that had ultimately ended up like…this.

Your legs hooked behind your head. Your back arching against the mattress of your beach cabin—the waves rolled softly outside.

The only thing separating you from it were the semi-sheer curtains of the cabin, swaying softly in the balmy breeze. What a romantic date the producers had set up- for an utterly unromantic man. 

Or so he was fucking you like it.

Thank goodness you’d left the cameras behind, though your glaring disappearance was nothing if not scandalous. There goes your reputation…you ponder. This might’ve been the fastest that you’ve gotten into bed with any one of them. And you know he’s bad news, you know you shouldn’t like him so much- you know that out of all those eligible bachelors, Sukuna was going to be the most dangerous for your heart (and between those legs of yours).

But you just couldn’t help yourself. 

You’re leaning your head back against his firm collarbones- mewls falling from your lips at an incredible rate. 

Sukuna’s veering his hips back and rub-rub-rubbing his flared tip around the area of your g-spot—but never directly upon it. Frustration makes your brows furrow, and you’re just about to bounce your hips down when-

“Ah ah—now what do you think you’re trying to do, woman?”

Just then you’re being pinned right back down with a sudden thwack! of his fingertips. Hard and fast. They’re lingering over your pussylips for just a few seconds, before reachin’ in-between and pinching your cute nub.

And as you’re shaking in his arms - “Did ya think that after so much back-talk you’d suddenly get to play nice?” Sukuna titters to himself, mean lips pressed up against your temple—it would’ve been a sweet gesture…but this was Sukuna you’re dealing with. “Ryomen Sukuna never plays nice.”

“P-please—” Had this been any other time, then you might’ve been embarrassed by just how much he managed to shatter you with his fast, hard-hitting strokes.

Your thighs are flapping lewdly open, and he’s teasin’ your clit even harder with his fingers. Though he still narrowly manages to avoid your damn g-spot—“Wh-what do I have to do to- ngh, get you to hit that spot?”

He acts confused, “What spot?”

“That spot-”

“Hah? I don’t know any spots-”

“H-here…” Rounding your hips down - in something that halfway-resembled a figure-eight. It’s the closest you’re getting to Sukuna grazing your g-spot: the lightest touch of his crowned, throbbing tip. Swollen enough to stretch apart your walls like none other. He’s barely slipping past that orifice with his vein-covered shaft, and it’s already enough to make you moan—

“And who said you deserve that, brat?”

Crossly, “Me- I said that.”

He laughs deeply in disbelief, “Hear that, pussy?” Slapping that cunt of yours once more, “The audacity- it doesn’t matter if I wasn’t the one ta say you deserve this. After all, who does this pussy really belong to?”

Starting to babble out some answer-

Before yet another spankin’ leaves your folds feeling raw - and your eardrums echoing with the dampened noise once more.

It’s all the answer that Sukuna needs.

He nods as though he’s just been handed the answers to the universe, “See- see—did ya hear what she said?” This time, he’s asking you. And you’re barely given the opportunity to answer between his roughened thrusts, “She said that she’s really mine. She’s always- hah, been mine.”

You’re shivering, “A-always…”

“And she wants you to beg for your orgasm.”

That being said, Sukuna reaches down and clasps your neck with his thick digits. Choking you- choking your moans, he’s wrenching such primal noises out of you through the combination of the pressure on your airway, and the pressure between your legs. 

Shovelling his thiiiick cock over and over-

“C’mon, my spoiled brat—” Sukuna chuckles, “Beg-” Between thorough thwacks! of his rotund cockhead hitting your cervix. You always have said that Sukuna was so big it feels as though he had two cocks…“Beg, girl, beg—”

“P-please.” 

“Tch, you can do better than that.”

The only thing you’re left to do - after so many battering rams of him bottoming out - is to meet his gaze with your teary one. Your bottom lip trembling with sobs, “Please, hit my g-spot.”

“What was that?” He leans in. Smile utterly mocking.

And though your stomach churns, you can do nothing but repeat, “P-please hit my g-spot…please let me cum.” At the very least, now he was letting you swerve your hips back into his - “Please make my- your…pussy feel good.”

And it’s that last sentence that deals the final blow.

“Damn right.”

Because in the next breath you take, Sukuna arcs his pelvis deeply and thuds his drippin’ wet cockhead against your g-spot. Just the slightest push. Just the smallest pressure. And yet, it’s still enough for you to throw your head back and cum—

“Fuh-fuck…” It takes you by surprise - sure, you’d been feeling a few zaps n’ whips of something at the pit of your stomach, but you didn’t expect for Sukuna to actually make you cum so easily. It almost leaves you shy.

For he levers his thick cock backwards, balls twitching eagerly once he pushes his entire length inside. Inside and inside. Fucking you through every single wave - Sukuna’s cold piercing targets your g-spot exactly at the moments where you felt the dopamine in your body surge, and the stark contrast in temperature is only making you even dizzier.

Even needier to feel him.

And he certainly wasn’t leaving you wanting for long- soon enough, Sukuna’s poundin’ away at your sweetest spots so hard that it stings both your slamming skin. His was red and swelling with the print of your hips on his hips.

Yours were barely able to keep up-

Just as you feel the hot flashes of your high bate, Sukuna’s pulling you close and whispering—“Knew that hadn’t changed…” And he’s gesturing to the way you’d - in the heat of your moment - intertwined your fingers with his. Without you even realizing. “Heh, those losers are going to be so pissed when they find out.”

When they find out what you and the producers already know…That Ryomen Sukuna was your ex-boyfriend.

♡ INO TAKUMA - Group date.

“My name is Ino Takuma, I’m 23.” Ino’s pushing back his dark-colored beanie, exposing tufts of cute caramel hair- “And I’m a professional skater.”

“Professional skater?” A producer urges him, “Tell the audience more.”

“W-well, I’ve been skating for a while now, and…” The sheer amount of focus being put on him makes him blush, fingers fighting the urge to pull down his beanie - entirely over his face - once more. Goddammit—Ino watches every season of this show, he can’t deny - trash television was his thing. Saturday nights with a facemask on, phone turned off, volume turned up. So when one drunken night out with his friends meant that he ended up applying for it…he didn’t think he’d actually get in. 

It’d been like navigating through thick fog- so many cameras, and boom poles, and acting suave (somewhat) for his introduction footage. It almost made him dizzy. “You might have seen me ‘round in a few competitions…some competitions…the Olympics…”

“The Olympics-”

“Yeah.” He fiddles with the hemline of his beanie awkwardly.

“And did you win a medal, Ino-kun?”

Ino smiles because he knows that it’d been plastered across every headline and sports magazine - there’s no need for him to clarify. Though he does it for the clicks anyways, “I did. First place.”

Excited whispers spread around the studio.

The skater shuffles once more beneath those harsh white lights- this time more out of embarrassment than anything. The cameras roll eagerly, following every movement, and a producer probes at his silence—“And does this mean you’ll be aiming for first place to win her heart, too?”

He chuckles nervously, “I won’t be aiming for it.” Scratching behind his neck, he cocks his head up and catches sight of the B-roll footage they were playing of you on one screen. “I’ll be first.”

.

.

.

Okay, so maybe his introduction was a little overconfident…but wasn’t everyone’s?

Ino Takuma has watched many a dating shows in his twenty-something years, alright; which means he’s gotten used to the pompous one-liners, the nonchalance that everyone attempts to show, the self-assurance—he’s just never wondered what happens when that self-assurance simply…doesn’t produce results.

Which- alright, alright…that’s not to say that he hasn’t produced any results.

As more and more of the contestants dwindled away, Ino still found himself (somehow mercifully) still on the show. And he’s had a handful of good conversations with you, along with a few bonding moments. 

It’s just- how come that long-haired masseuse managed to get you into his arms - and on his cock…he’s ashamed to admit he actually saw when he’d walked in on the two of you - all on this show?! Ino didn’t even know that sort of thing was allowed here…

And he feels foolish admitting it but he’s grown to really, really care about you. So thinking about you with some other guy like that pink-haired bombshell or the CEO or whatever—it was starting to make him tick. 

Which is why he’s jumping to drag you away from the others at the next group date. 

This time, the producers had arranged an indoor skating park date, perhaps to make up for the fact that he hasn’t gotten a one-on-one date yet. 

And as you’re a little wobbly on that new board, Ino’s using his expertise to teach you, to hold your hand, to gently direct you around the park—and eventually let you direct him out of sight of the cameras.

Soon enough, you’re pushing him against the wall of the restroom on-site - vast and clean, and spacious enough for you to push him into one of the stalls. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been eyeing me.” Leaning up on your tip-toes to whisper in his ear, “We’ve gotta be quick, though.”

He thinks those might just be the best words he’s ever heard. 

You’re turning around and placing both palms on one plastic wall of the stall. Panties in your pocket. Smirk something delicious. 

And it takes just a few sloppy strokes between those pretty cunt lips of yours for Ino to become utterly gone—

He’s pussydrunk already.

Mahogany eyes criss-crossing. Weakening in the knees.

The skater holds onto either side of your hips as though to guide the way you’re fuckin’ back into him- but really he’s gripping onto you for dear life. To stop himself from collapsing onto his knees on this damn washroom floor. To stop himself from making a complete and utter fool of himself - the curve of your hips is the lifeline he can’t let go of.

And yet another wretched moan leaves this throat when you’re veering your hips down to his base and clenching-

“Taku, baby…” Your giggle comes out unfiltered, harmonizing with the sinful sound he’s just let out. “You’ve got to be quiet, otherwise they’re going to find us- cameras and all.”

He lets out a slight whimper at the thought, “I w-wouldn’t want you to be exposed because of me like that.”

“Mhm—” Just as soon as Ino’s agreeing to be quiet- you’re gently suctioning your cunt down until his hilt - coating your gooey slick along all his inches - and he’s letting out a euphoric noise. Even louder than before. And you’re just looking over your shoulder with a grin, “Now, what did I say about being quiet, Taku?”

Sounding as though he was on the verge of tears, “I-I can’t help myself, sweetness.” Tone husky. Octaves higher. His poor hips stutter out a singular thrust, and even that seems too much for the skater boy to handle- he reaches up to tug down his beanie. “It just feels so good…maybe m’just not deserving of your cunt- ngh.”

“Awww, don’t say that, baby.”

With a resounding squelch! you’re letting Ino pull out - and instead of telling him to tuck himself back into his pants, as he might’ve expected, you’re gesturing for him to seat himself down on the closed, clean toilet. 

Straddling his slender hips and kissin’ his blushing tip to your entrance. 

It doesn’t take long for you to siiiiiink yourself down onto him—he might not have been the thickest, but Ino was a length that you swear you could feel at your very throat. And he was actually the perfect girthiness to stretch apart your walls enough that tears prick behind your eyelids- but still smooth n’ slim enough for you to immediately start up an urgent pace. Quick.

Up and down. Up and down.

Ino’s shaft had a particularly prominent vein going down his middle that made you shiver - it was in the perfect position to massage your puckered, pulsing g-spot. You could feel the squiggly line of it practically emblazon against your wet walls. 

Your hamstrings keening at the stretch - and Ino was, too.

At least…until you’re tugging out the damp panties you’d kept in your pocket this entire time. And the next moment that Ino’s letting his maw ajar with a sudden moan- you’re quickly stuffin’ his mouth full with the lacy fabric.

Smirking, “See? Isn’t that a lot better, Taku?”

First, Ino’s eyes go wide—then he’s blushing as he registers just what you’d put in his mouth. Then he’s letting those dilated pupils roll aaaaall the way to the back of his head at the feeling of your cunt lavishing out looooong, luxurious thrusts. Squeezed tight around his cock.

He throbs even harder inside of you, “Mmmpf- ngh—sh-sho…can’t even-” Muffled.

“Shhh, you don’t have to say a thing.” You’re reassuring him, pushing back his beanie- there. Those chocolate-brown eyes of his were so pretty. You’re witnessing him tear up - and you weren’t sure whether that was because of the sudden blockage in his airway, or because it just felt so good—you had a sneaking suspicion that it was the latter. “Just be good f’me and fuck up to me, okay?”

“M-mhm.” He’s nodding obediently.

Because it might’ve been him teaching you how to skate out there- but in here…he was all yours.

He was at your beck and call. At the mercy of your bounces-

You’re telling him to go easier on your poor cervix - and though it takes every single shred of will within him to do so - he’s listening to you without fuss. You’re telling him to speed up, and he’s gladly bashin’ away his eager cock inside of you until the skin of his pelvis feels raw…

You’re telling him that someone might be inside the bathroom, too, and he’s too gone on your pussy to even compute—

“Taku.” Stern tone. Serious eyes- despite the fact that your pussy wasn’t letting up for a single second. You’re grabbing directly by the throat - something his cock twitches at - and bringing him up to face you. “Someone’s in here, okay?”

He feels goosebumps go down his spine, “Mmmps- schtawp?” 

You giggle, “No…no, we don’t need to stop.” And perhaps in the next few seconds you’d suggest that you two should slow down, instead. Perhaps you’d suggest cockwarming until whoever was inside (and Ino could hear the other person’s voice as they splashed water on their face) left. 

But instead you’re merely leaning in- grasping one of his strong arms and guiding it beneath you. You’re directing Ino to cup his fattened base, “This way it’ll be quieter.” Whispering to him, “In fact—how about we see just how quiet you can get, huh?”

And his maw unhinges - drool dripping down each side - and those gorgeous eyes of his nearly bulge out of their skull.

“N-ngh—”

“Shhhhhhh.” Hips growing even faster.

Ino’s long, vein-decorated cock flinches inside of you- Outside, Geto Suguru smiles. Touché.

♡ GOJO SATORU - BOMBSHELL #2

“Of course this bombshell’s gonna blow this whole season up-” Gojo didn’t need to try to make everyone opposite the camera faun - it was practically what he was made for. 

One of the tallest in the show. One of the flashiest.

One of the most famous - there wasn’t a soul who’d walked past the billboards in Tokyo that hadn’t already seen Gojo Satoru’s dazzling smile, or peaked traitorously at a blown-up picture of his abs on numerous billboards.

Brands were practically clawing for him—just as much as the ladies and gents were. But that’s exactly why he was here - wouldn’t it be fun to be the chaser for once? Besides, his agent had told him that if he behaved himself, then he might just end up boosting his career to heights never seen before. This season had been a hit so far- but of course, what was a hit without Gojo Satoru?

Pretending to flip his hair over one shoulder, Gojo’s posing with all the best angles for the lens. “I mean- no offense, but have you seen me?”

And on anyone, such confidence would have been seen as a turn-off, a red flag, perhaps even compensation for something lacking. No one should be this confident. 

Except Gojo Satoru, of course.

And he smiles like he knows it- rows of pearly white teeth flashin’ in the direction of the camera. “Oh, I guess I really should introduce myself, huh?” He sighs, “I’m Toru, I’m 28. And I’m the man of your dreams~!”

A producer whispers something to him.

“I’m also a model.” Gojo adds, “High-fashion. Editorial. Digimon ads- you name it. I don’t consider myself a romantic, nor someone that really needs love but…” His eyes drift to the B-roll footage they were playing of you on some small screen in the back, getting the contestants more familiar before they actually joined you in the mansion. “-who knows? Maybe things can change.”

Dimples pop out when he smiles.

No one should be this handsome.

He winks.

Except Gojo Satoru, of course.

.

.

.

Gojo Satoru was sent to the mansion to wreak havoc.

And wreak havoc, he did.

In the four hours and forty-five minutes that he’d been here, he’d interrupted your rose ceremony and thrown out the rose that you’d been about to give poor Usami—and taken it for himself. Not a shred of apology, he’d tucked it straight into his button-up pocket and winked at you.

Leaving the other man to whirl around at the producers that simply shrugged. Who was to say what Gojo Satoru did?

And you can’t deny it…that charm of his was irresistible.

You were sure that the viewers were loving this- in even less time, he’d picked a fight with Sukuna because of the long-standing rivalry between the two - something the producers had likely known just to stir the pot even more. According to what the skater boy had whispered in your ear, it was because the two had been battling it out for the title of TC Candler’s #1 Most Handsome Man for the last few years now.

One year it’d be Sukuna. Next it’d be Gojo.

The next they’d get absolutely washed by Zayn Malik and would have to lick their wounds and battle it out over second place.

It all left you a little dizzy, if you’re being honest.

And sure enough- after a hectic few hours of introduction between the new bombshell and the rest of the contestants - during which you’d seen more fists flying than small talk - Gojo finally managed to pull you away for a chit-chat.

He stuck his tongue out at the other men as he dragged you by hand, pulling you into the cosy gazebo outside—the one with the creeping vines up its pillars, and shutters for if you wanted privacy. Speaking of, it gave you way…way too much privacy…

And soon enough he’s pulling you into his arms, you’re crashing your lips into his in a searing kiss.

Having kicked the camera men outside, they could only see just the faintest shadows of the two of you inside - before Gojo’s dragging you down to the fucking floor like an animal—helping you tear through your panties n’ sticking his fat cock inside.

The crown of his reddened tip was burning hot, streaming out precum that sticks to your inner thighs in heavenly layers- he’s sucking in a breath as he fits his first inch inside. “Oh.” Maw dropping breathlessly - you think that perhaps for the first time in his twenty-eight years, Gojo Satoru shuts himself up. Low. “Oh.”

Clammy head falling to the crook of your neck. White bangs sticking against the side of your throat. 

He lets out a sensual few groans that seem to almost cling onto your skin - just like how his muscular body was right now. Long limbs nearly collapsing on top of you as Gojo’s stutterin’ his gleaming shaft inside a few more inches—“Oh- ohhhh, fuck. Do you h-hear that?” Voice cracking towards the end of that sentence. 

“Hear what?” Your brows furrow.

And Gojo’s snowy brows knit even deeper - more confused than you by what you seemingly couldn’t hear—how could you not hear it? “You- you seriously don’t…?” And those toned hips of his reel a few inches backwards, draggin’ the zig-zagging lines of his veins along your tightened channel- ever-so-slightly before thundering back in. “Hear it- now?” He asks, strangely out-of-breath. The pupils in his ice-blue eyes blown wide. The breaths emanating deeply from his chest.

Though his sheer desperation only leaves you more confused, “I…”

“You s-still don’t hear it—?”

As if he’s trying to prove his point, he’s grabbing ahold of one side of your hips- the manicured nails upon his left hand digging into your clammy flesh. Thrusts growing more emboldened. Gojo’s connecting his body with yours until he doesn’t know where his starts and yours ends—gripping onto every inch of you like adhesive coats your body.

His eyes lazily fail at keeping shut every time you’re clampin’ your tight pussy around him. A thin trickle of perspiration lines the side of his face, and once he’s finally able to veer his gaze to meet yours- you’re swearing that it’s as though his pupils have suddenly turned into hearts.

Something dazed and drunken in his gaze, “Can you…”

Barely able to finish his thought let alone his sentence.

“The only thing m’hearing right now is that you’re- fuck-” Gasping between the roughening and roughening rams of his hips—he pistons his swollen cock inside until your walls are bulging at the size of him. Swerving n’ swerving it into every single sweet spot inside you. 

Almost as though Gojo didn’t even need to try - he’s discovering your g-spot after only a few more determined strokes. And just the sheer force of him pinpointing that cute lil’ bundle of nerves - whacking it - makes your thighs squeeeeeze around his waist. It makes your pussylips get crushed together under the sheer pressure of movement, letting out an audible squelch!

“That.” 

Blinking through your tears, “What?”

“That-”

Gojo’s so excited that he’s running out of breath - almost as if he’d just run an entire marathon, and would run at least five more just to experience this again. 

His red-hot tip smears aside your walls, scouring your insides like a hidden maze. You feel the exact moment that he’s bottoming out his long, entire length at the very back of your cunt—“There…” A thin ribbon of drool glides down the side of Gojo’s mouth, tone almost in tears.

He flinches-

The raw softness of your womb- it was almost too much. Gojo reaches his right hand down to spreeead open your pretty pussylips, opening you up like lotus petals for him, then rolling his thumb down on your neglected clit.

You’re moaning at the sparks of carnal pleasure wracking through you - and Gojo himself grins at the music: your gorgeous noises, the sound of the night, the way your cunt’s lettin’ out the most lecherous squelches as he eases his cock in and out.

“There- right then.” Gojo finally - finally - husks out after one particularly loud slurp! Looking up at him, only to feel a jolt go through you at something primal shifting beneath his gaze. “Can you hear her say my name?”

“Her…?” Dazedly asking, “Do you mean me—?”

“No.” Gojo stubbornly answers, “I mean her-”

And before you know it, he’s honing out a few more strikes at your poor g-spot. Until you were sure it’s bruised enough with the round circumference of his length - hard and fast.

It’s enough to make you bellow out a few more hoarse noises—before Gojo himself is letting go of your waist to clasp his slender fingers around your neck. The cold sensation of them sending thrills down your spine, he’s teasingly tightening his hold as he bores deep into your eyes with his nearly-glowing ones.

“Shush, sweetheart.” Gojo admonishes softly, “Let me show you- hear her?” And it’s only after a few seconds you’re realizing that…her really meant your sopping wet pussy. Namely the lewd noises that you’re creating from it- just that wet. “Hear the way she’s whimpering? And mewling? And yowling?”

You yourself were struggling to get a single word out when he’s holding onto you like that. “Y-yes—”

“Well all that pretty noise is her…” He trails off, listening to a few more syllables of your pussy. “-screaming my name.”

Jaw dropping. “Your…”

“Mhm.”

Thin fingertips leaving marks.

He continues, “She’s been beggin’ for me to fuck her ever since- hah, ever since I got here.” And without a single warning, he’s toying with your clit and ultimately pinching it. “I know she’s been thinking about me—hah, shirtless. I know she’s been thinking about being under me, over me-” An almost wolfish expression taking over his face, “All on my face until I can’t breathe-”

“S-Satoru—!”

“Oh yeah, that’s exactly how your pussy’s saying it.”

You’re smacking Gojo’s bicep for that, and he merely chuckles. 

“I’m just saying~” The motions of his thumb then start taking a more…interesting turn. And you have to tilt your head down to get a proper look at what he was doing - Gojo’s moving so fast that his digits were nearly nothing but frenzied, feverish blur between your legs. “That’s exactly…”

He himself couldn’t keep up.

Just too enraptured by the swervin’ and swoopin’ movements—the way his fingers had to quirk just right when he’s spelling out a repeated S-A-T-O-R-U.

S-A-T-O-R-U.

S-A-T-O-R-U.

S-A-T-O-R-U.

Both in Japanese and English.

Looking up at you through his curtained white bangs, “What’s that spell—?”

“Satoru—” It would’ve tumbled out of your mouth regardless of whether he asked or not, and you’re sure he knows. 

“Exactly.” He responds. 

You look on in gaped speechlessness as he flashes you that award-winning grin. The last thing you’re seeing before your high floods you in bursts- nothing like the torrential waves of dopamine, or the hills or relaxation that’d pass by you during your other highs.

This one was taking you over.

This one was zapping every atom of your being and leaving it charged.

“Sh-shit, Toru—” Hiccuping, your nails drag red, red lines down the plane of his shoulders. They’re standing out stark, and you’re hit with the strange feeling that he’d be the type to show them off during his next photoshoot - “It feels so good, Toru-”

“Heh, you’re welcome.”

Babbling out stupidly- the way he elongated every single peak left your mind heated. “Y-you could at least pretend to have some humility.”

“Humility? Don’t know her.” He winks, “You’re my only gal, sweetheart.”

Grumbling, “I better be…”

“Now why’d you hafta go and say something so cute…” You’re still seeing white from the pure shockwaves of your high- “Because that’s only gonna make me cum.” When Gojo himself throws his head back and cums inside. Loooooong and deep slashes at the back of your cunt, he draws numerous lines of white that dribble all the way down your channel then.

Ending up frothed between your shiverin’ legs. 

The glistening layers of it smear n’ make your entangled bodies slip.

Jostling you even further, making you feel the splashin’ of his clingy sap inside you. More and more. More and more and more—no matter how many wads Gojo’s fucking inside- he just can’t seem to get enough of you—

“Because no one else can fuck you like Gojo Satoru can.”

Just the seven previous men and this bombshell left in the mansion.

Who would you even pick at this rate?

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - One-on-one.

“My name is Higuruma Hiromi, I’m 33.” Deep voice. Deeper eyes. There was a certain handsomeness to Higuruma that made it hard to look away - perhaps it was the dark features - that nose, the intelligent twinkle behind his eyes.

Perhaps it was the fact that he was dressed to the nines in his smart, black suit.

Or perhaps it was that air of confidence around him - nothing of the outward flashiness that most of the other contestants boasted. Something quieter. Something that had the edges of his pouty lips quirking, as though he already knows he’s won this season…he just won’t admit it yet.

For the viewers’ experience, of course.

He cocks his head slightly to the side and sighs, “I’m an attorney at my own law firm. I enjoy long baths and even longer debates, I’m looking for someone that can indulge me in both of these things.”

“And why are you here, Higuruma-san?”

“Because some interns of mine thought that it’d be funny to sign me up.” He chuckles softly to himself, “They’re mad- of course, perhaps I’m more mad to actually be here.”

“In the long run, Higuruma-san?”

“Ah…” He takes the time to think, eyes drifting over to the screen replaying footage of you - he’s already heard some of the other men gossiping amongst themselves in the waiting room about just how beautiful you are. And he hates to admit it when someone’s right, but he can’t deny it—they were fucking right. “I guess I’m looking for my wife.”

His eyes never miss yours on the screen.

The producer probes once more, camera angles shifting to accommodate for his intense staring match. “And do you think that you’ll find that?”

“I think I already might have.”

.

.

.

The audience had been curious about the hotshot lawyer from Tokyo.

“H-Hiromi, I’m ngh- cumming again…”

And so had you.

It’s been a string of more one-on-one dates that the producers had arranged prior to the finale where you had to choose…your future husband. Fuck- at this point you were wondering whether you couldn’t just have them all. And though the dark-haired lawyer had made it this far, he hadn’t featured in too many of the episodes—that is, until a recent edit of his B-roll footage had gone absolutely viral online - quite to the distaste of one particular white-haired model. 

Clips of him laid back in a bathtub - suit still on. Clips of him slamming his gavel down.

And so, of course, they’d rushed to bring the two of you together to raise viewership—lo and behold you found yourself sneaking off to the couples’ suite after a romantic spa date. Escaping all the cameras - shutting those hungry lenses behind the door - it didn’t take long for the man to corner you against the rose petal-covered bed and bend you into the meanest mating press that you’ve ever even heard of. 

Though Higuruma might’ve seemed all cool and composed on the outside- he was drilling his rock-hard cock into you like a fucking madman.

Thick and throbbing. Thrust after thrust after thrust-

“Fuck—” He snarls something primal from the back of his throat, prominent Adam’s apple bobbing. Hoarse, sensual grunts leave him after every battering ram.

His skin was still damp from all the hours prior- when you’d been riding Higuruma’s face silly.

And even now, you could see the slight sheen of slick clinging onto his handsome features. Without thinking twice, you’re reaching up and swipin’ away some of the remnant excess, which immediately makes him snap his head down with a low trundle. “Fuck, don’t act so sweet, sugar.”

You huff, “M’not acting-”

Before you’re immediately getting cut off by the slam! of his round, reddened tip on your cervix. Barely reeling from the sheer pressure of it- before Higuruma reaches somewhere above your head - at the clothes that you’d discarded hours prior at the start of the night - and produces his favorite black tie.

You’re blinking up at him in slight confusion.

To which he doesn’t say much - he doesn’t say anything at all, really. Without a single word, Higuruma loops the soft silk of the tie around your wrists, and he’s tightening it into a knot that your muddled mind barely computes—tying you up. 

It’s too late once you’re realizing- no matter how much you tug, you’re left unable to move. At your sultry mercy before the man - exactly how you wanted to be.

“S’not handcuffs, but it’ll have to do.” He mutters to himself. 

“And why would you want me in handcuffs?”

“Because act sweet t’me one more time and you’ll be walking out of this suite pregnant, angel.” And you can’t believe it—the ever-eloquent Higuruma Hiromi was slurrin’ and babbling because of your cunt. “Why else?”

“O-oh…”

You snark back, “And what if I want that?”

“Well, you don’t deserve that.” He counters, “You’re a guilty girl.”

Squirming- he runs a long finger of his down the crevice of your pussylips. Just the very tip of it teasin’ in-between, uuuup and down, uuuup and down until you’re restless. And you can’t even do anything because of the ruthless restraints that he’d tied around your wrists. 

“G-guilty for…?”

Higuruma doesn’t answer instantly.

He’s curling his dominant hand around the ribbons of fabric that were decorating your hands.

Cold fingers grazing your own- you’re just about wondering what Higuruma was about to do right then and there. But just then, he’s tightening his hold and draaaagging your body down. 

As though you weighed nothing.

Higuruma’s hidden biceps bulge ever-so-slightly as he’s manhandling you down, down, down—onto his thickened cock. The silken bedsheets bunch up around your waist, and the bedsprings creak at the way you’re being thrown about like a ragdoll-

This rough angle makes his globular tip maze even deeper inside of you- burrowing a circular bruise at the very bottom of your pussy. And you’re gasping—you’d be clawing at Higuruma’s handsome back had it not been for this damn tie.

Almost as though sensing your desperation, the man looming before you huffs out in laughter. It fans your face in a scorching breeze - you think you can feel the smoke and need in his breath. The addiction to white-knuckling your cuffs and hauling you down after every thrust pushes you up, up, upwards- “Count one: seduction” 

“S-seduction?” Your eyes damn-near bulge out of your skull.

“Count two: temptation of a working attorney.” He lists off. The slightest smile lifts up the edges of his lips, “Count three: temptation of a working judge.”

“You’re the-”

He sighs as though this was just another day in the court for him - though if this was the type of court he led, you’d be showing up for jury duty everyday. “Count four: perjury.”

“Perjury?” You gape, “When have I ever lied to the court?”

Higuruma cocks his head, “And when you told me you weren’t acting sweet?” That rounded tip of his lingers where your g-spot was, “I know how filthy you are, angel, no need to put on an act…”

“I—fuck, please…”

“Count five: greed.” Higuruma finally ends off, and you’re probing into his darkened eyes for clarification. “You seriously think you deserve to be fucked pregnant by me, sugar?”

“Y-yes…” You’re barely able to mumble out.

And he merely scoffs out a

And he scoffs out a slightly mean bout of laughter, as if he’d expected for you to say that. Oh, how he’d expected you to say that. But instead of responding to that directly, Higuruma’s openin’ up your sopping wet pussylips.

The hand between your legs bears your stuffed entrance for him to examine. Those intelligent eyes of his twinkle as he’s taking in the plushness of your swollen folds, the way your hole leaked even when stuffed to the brim with his fat cock - struggling to take him, yet still yearning for more. And most of all…he’s admiring the way your cute clit twitches- “Count one…” Higuruma announces with no warning—and even less of a warning is given before he’s planting a solid spank on your clit. “Guilty.” Even harder than he might’ve done with that gavel of his.

You’re surging up on the bed due to the sheer shockwaves coursing through you. “Fuck- fuck, you’re just-”

“Count two—” 

“Shit-”

Barely giving you the time to compute before his hand comes slammin’ down once more. “Guilty.”

Tears stream down your cheeks, “Hiromi, I’m going to cum-”

“Count three-” And it wasn’t like he couldn’t hear you - he just refused to respond until his judicial duties were completed. Higuruma was a man of the law, after all. And surely it was that discipline that led him to spank your cunt two more times, “Guilty. Count four- guilty.”

Your thighs were shaking with your impeding high, “I-I’m seriously going to-”

“Count five-” The fifth, final punishment. “-guilty.”

And you’re crashing against the waves of your high - it feels as if you’re floating on air. On clouds. On the white-hot pleasure that Higuruma was fucking into you.

His pace doesn’t falter for a single second. The plush edge of his shaft probin’ into you in and in and in—Higuruma knows exactly which nerve-filled spots you wanted him to push. Exactly where they were. And he doesn’t do so immediately…but once he’s glissading his lengthy cock inside your cunt, he sure does press his pointed tip hard into wherever he can reach.

Not quite agonizingly teasing, but not quite giving your guilty self what you wanted.

Somewhere along the way, you’re feeling his gooey white sap fill you up as well. He lets out a choked-up groan as he floods the lining of your cervix- “Guilty…haaaaah, on all counts.” The sheer volume of him forms a little puddle there, “And I sentence you to…”

“Y-yes…?”

“Hmmm—” He pretends to think, though the lewd humor in his tone told you that Higuruma already knew. The full stop at the end of his duties- he thwacks! his palm down upon your cunt once more, “How about five more rounds? One for each count- hah.”

You’re letting your head fall to the side, where the curtains of the suite were just barely cracked to reveal pinkish-yellow lighting filtering inside. It was morning.

You weren’t making it out alive for the rest of the season.

A/N. MAYHAPS have a special treat for whoever wins. Can you tell my best friend made me watch Single's Inferno with her-

"Grab me the folder with the October 3rd case files, please, dear."

Higuruma's request snaps you out of your daydreams—body jerking as heat burns your cheeks.

"O-Of course!"

You know exactly where to go, at least. Every misplaced document, every obscure reference—you've long since mapped the chaos of Higuruma Hiromi's filing system.

Locating the folder within seconds, the brief contact of his fingers grazing yours as you hand it over makes you clench.

"Thank you, doll."

Higuruma doesn't look up, his eyes are already scanning the document. Clearly your touch doesn't stir anything in him.

Right.

You get it. You do. 

It's not cruelty—just a single-minded determination from a habitually overworked and underfucked attorney moonlighting as a sorcerer. 

Higuruma is well practiced in putting his own needs to the side for others, his entire life has been dedicated to it—you can't bear to fault him for that.

So you retreat. Back to the sofa in the corner of his office, the sting tucked behind a tired smile. Higuruma isn't the only one who knows how to compartmentalize.

Still, the thought lingers—is there even a point in staying?

He doesn't need you. Not really.

Higuruma managed for years as a public defender before the Culling Games. He's more than capable of grabbing his own files.

Besides, it's not like the jujutsu higher-ups assigned you here for your legal expertise. The "Executive Legal Assistant" line is just civilian window dressing— a polite way of saying leash.

Your real title? Assistant Manager of Jujutsu Tech.

A handler for a newly ranked special-grade sorcerer too stubborn to give up his day job entirely.

Higuruma compromised just enough to move to private practice, but still takes most cases pro bono after a reduced retainer.

He knows exactly why you're here—and he's never once made you feel lesser for it.

Which makes the guilt so much worse. He's buried in this case: a scholarship kid bullied into a false confession, parents who scraped together everything for his retainer.

Meanwhile, you're sulking because he won't touch you.

God, his noble to a fault principles make you damn near feral though.

Pouting from your spot on the sofa, you steal another glance at Higuruma.

You decided long ago it's enormously unfair for a man to wear exhaustion as well as he does. The warm glow of the desk lamp traces his profile—his sharp nose, strong jaw, the thick column of his throat and the strain visibly knotted across his broad shoulders. 

The same coiled tension he'd carried that night a month ago that obliterated all lines of professionalism.

It’d been straight off a mission. Higuruma dealt with dual first-grade curses, nasty work—and then went right back to his desk. But he was wound too tight and although determined to finish his work, could not keep his fingers from digging into the crook of his neck.

When you offered to help him, you were only being considerate.

A friendly massage. Honestly, that's all it was. 

Higuruma even tried to refuse you but one firm press into his stiff muscles and he groaned. The sound was purely guttural, vibrating through your palms and straight to your cunt.

Immediately all protests silenced as his head drooped forward, breath going ragged. His grunts continued and by the time you fully worked out the second knot, you were dripping.

It took everything in you to steady your hands, to hide how much his pleasure was affecting you. But then you slipped—and a soft, needy sound fumbled out of you, impossible to swallow back. Your breath fanned warm across his neck, scattering goosebumps along his nape.

Everything after that blurred together.

His hands hauling you into his lap.

His mouth devouring yours.

The expensive oak desk slamming against the wall as he drove into you like a man possessed, your name caught between his teeth like a prayer.

You don't remember how it ended—only that eventually, Higuruma untangled himself from you and led you wordlessly to the private shower attached to his office. One of the few perks of private practice he'd actually come to appreciate.

He washed you with reverence—slow, thorough, like you were something precious. And then he ruined that image entirely by dropping to his knees and lewdly slurping his cum out of your cunt like it was his last meal. Nose buried in your clit, tongue pushing deep, water pouring down his face. He was half-drowning—between the shower and your squirt—and couldn't have cared less.

Legs like goo, you still don't know how you remained standing through it all.

You were still catching your breath as you toweled off when he murmured something about feeding you, fingers tracing your hip.

Twenty minutes later: you were at an all-night izakaya, just the two of you. Your first date, technically. Confirmed by the way he slid into the booth beside you instead of across—his hand finding your thigh like it belonged there. It never left. Only crept higher, fingertips ghosting over your clit through thin silk while you pretended to study the menu. The owner lingered too long taking your order, teasing you for something as plain as eggs and furikake rice, his tone edging toward flirtation as he challenged if your date was too cheap to buy you a real meal. You stumbled over your defense of Higuruma as Higuruma's knuckle replaced his fingertips, grinding against your clit.

That's when you learned how possessive Higuruma Hiromi could be.

"That man is testing my patience," Higuruma murmured the second the owner turned away. His mouth barely moved against your ear, voice terrifyingly calm, knuckle still working slow circles through your folds. "Should I sit you right here in my lap? Let him watch you come undone, doll, hm?"

You were already plenty undone though—your slick leaking onto beat-up vinyl seat.  “Don’t worry, I won’t. This noisy girl attracts too much unnecessary attention—” Higuruma leans forward to shield you from view as more patrons walk in “—we don’t need a public indecency charge, hm?”  

He wasn't wrong. The slick click-click of your pussy squelches were already obscene—a few patrons' eyes flickered around, searching for the source—and it only got louder as he nudged past the lace, stroking you wider, fingertip dipping teasingly into your core.

“H-Hiro…”

With a sly quirk of his lip, he pulls back, reaching casually for his coffee before slipping the mug under the table.

“Alright, alright. At least allow me some of your cream for my coffee as a consolation, dear.”

He paid, of course. You tried to protest, but it's hard to argue when you can barely stand—legs still trembling from an hour of relentless teasing.

He'd ordered three cups of coffee total. Every single one required a fresh dollop of your cream.

By the time you reached his condo, you needed him desperately again. Engine off, keys still in the ignition—you climbed into the backseat and sank onto his cock. You rode him until dawn crept through the fogged glass and your legs gave out. 

He invited you to stay but you were possibly in enough trouble already if your family noticed you hadn’t returned. Working late was understandable—but there’d be hell if you missed breakfast without prior notice.

That was a Saturday.

Come Monday, this case landed on his desk, and he hadn't touched you since.

Instead?

Fresh flowers rotating through the vase on your desk.

The occasional delivery of white strawberries.

Macarons from the French bakery Higuruma pretended to overbuy when you knew he only bought them for you. The closest to real intimacy you got all month were stolen moments where he’d sweep your hand into his, lips brushing your knuckles when he was certain no one else could see.

Sure these breadcrumbs were enough to keep you hoping but not nearly enough to keep you sane. 

Who the hell courts you like a Regency novel heroine—after you’ve already spent a night all over each other fucking like rabbits?! 

You don't think even Elizabeth Bennet suffered this kind of agonizing tension—she certainly didn't have the memory of Mr. Darcy's tongue swirling in her cunt to keep her up at night.

But what could you do? You couldn't seem needy or immature—not to a man a decade your senior. Not if you wanted this to mean something.

You were doing fine. Keeping it together. Right up until last week.

Junior lawyers crowded the watercooler, loud and willfully oblivious to the fact that women also use the break room—braying about No Nut November like overgrown frat boys comparing notes. You kept your back to them, cursing the espresso machine to hurry the hell up.

Relief flooded you when Higuruma appeared in the doorway.

Finally, an escape.

Then he opened his mouth.

"Some of us don't find distractions quite so difficult to set aside when the work matters." His gaze swept over them. "I'd recommend you develop the same discipline, gentlemen."

Distractions.

You'd previously told yourself this case had forced you both into accidental celibacy. No Nut November participants by circumstance, not choice. But the way he'd said it—distractions—so cool, so clinical, like sexual urges were just clutter to tidy away.

You'd think a man who fucked you that desperately would be crawling back for more?!

But he hadn't.

And that distance made you wonder if you'd gotten it all wrong. Maybe the gifts weren't courtship—just consideration. The polite gestures of a man who'd used you and wanted to keep things friendly on the rare occasion he needed an indulgence.

Like a work wife with benefits.

The fact the office cleared out hours ago and he’s hardly looked at you for more than a few seconds convinces you of this more and more, the thoughts spiraling as—

"You know I hate to keep you late." The words yank you out of your head. Right. You're still here. He's still here. "If you need to leave, dove, I can manage."

Your stomach drops. Higuruma asked you to stay tonight, so you thought maybe—

"No, I'm fine. Really." Unconvincing, even to yourself.

"Mm." He nods—eyes already back on his files.

Dismissed in a syllable.

Trying to push aside the hurt, the files in your lap blur as you pretend to read them, legs crossing and uncrossing, the leather groaning beneath your restless shifting. Now on top of everything else, your feet are screaming—new stilettos, three inches higher than normal.

You'd dressed to kill all month hoping a part of him would be superficial enough notice.

Wincing, your arches are aching from your red-bottoms. You're starting to suspect it's less about the lacquer and more about the crime scene your heels will leave behind if your arches just so happen to split in two. Still, they make your legs look sinful—and you'll plead guilty to first-degree pick me-ism if it gets Higuruma to look up from his goddamn papers for more than a minute.

"Take them off.”

Flustered, your eyes snap up to see Higuruma appraising you over the document in his hands. 

When did he start watching you again?

"Your shoes, dove."

Higuruma follows up when you don’t respond, faint amusement lingering on his words.

"It's fine, really—" You wave off his concern, gesturing vaguely at your feet. "They're still new. Haven't broken them in quite yet."

"You've been wincing for the last twenty minutes." Higuruma’s voice is firm but not unkind as he regards you. His eyes linger on your legs long enough for you to notice this time. 

"Take them off."

"I don't want to be unprofessional—" 

"It's nearly midnight." The corner of his mouth twitches a sly smile. "And…I think we're well past professional civilities, don't you?"

Are we?

You swallow the retort as Higuruma examines another folder on his desk. Part of you wants to be a big brat about it—to punish him for ignoring you. You want to crawl onto his desk force his eyes onto you.

But the thought alone makes you shy away. You're much too proud for that.

So you ease the shoe off slowly, quietly, propping your stockinged foot on the sofa's edge to reach the second strap. Your wool skirt rides up your thighs in the process—but you're almost certain he's not watching anyway.

Except you hear papers fluttering and when you glance up, Higuruma's pen is frozen mid-stroke.

His gaze isn't on your feet.

It's fixed on your thighs, more specifically, the black lace of your garters clipped to stockings that have your soft flesh swelling over them.

His throat bobs as he white-knuckles the pen in his grasp.

For a long moment, he doesn't move. Doesn't breathe. Just looks at you as his eyes trail lower and the proof of how needy you've been for him all night is evident in the way your panties clinging to every fold.

Higuruma resembles a man who's been presented a ten-course meal after a strict fast.

Yet his next words still surprise you.

"You've been punishing yourself."

"What?"

"For my attention. You've been wearing new heels, every night this week." Higuruma’s tone is stripped of its usual composure although he's still clinical in his assessment. "You usually wear the round-toed black pair. Two inches, cushioned sole. These—" His gaze flicks to the discarded shoes, then back to you. "Your legs don't need the extra height, doll. Never did."

Heat floods your cheeks. He'd noticed?! 

This whole time, drowning in case files, barely sparing you a glance—

"The blouse is new too." Higuruma notes, almost to himself, like he’s reading off the facts in a case file. "Tuesday it was the silk one. Wednesday, the black skirt with the small slit at the back."

Your heart slams against your ribs as he continues to recall your outfits.

"I-I thought you weren't paying attention."

"I wasn't giving you any." Higuruma’s mouth twists—bitter and self-directed in his ire. "That's not the same thing."

"It's okay. You've been busy—"

"Don't." 

The word is soft but final as he rises from his desk walking over to you on the sofa.

"Don't make excuses for me—or I'll hate myself even more than I already do..."

Higuruma drags a hand down his face as he deflates with a tired exhale. "Watching you walk in every morning looking like that. Knowing exactly what sounds you make when I—"

He stops. You watch him swallow it down—whatever he was about to say, whatever he was about to do. His eyes have gone nearly black, looking like he may pounce on you at any moment.

"I couldn't only give you ten minutes between depositions. Couldn't touch you the way you deserve and then casually ask you to hand me a file or drive me to the next mission like nothing happened." 

Your head is spinning at the revelations, wanting to say something but you are at an utter loss. 

"So I kept my distance." He confesses. "Thought if I could just finish this case—I could give you a night where I could take my time with you. Take you apart properly, then put you back together after."

Higuruma is standing over you now, his presence like a physical weight. "Like a fool, I was so consumed with self-martyrdom I never stopped to consider if I was forcing yours."

You move to stand, to reach for him—

“Stay.”

It's less command than it is a contrite supplication.

"Stay right there, doll," Higuruma repeats—and the crack in his voice betrays him—as does the tent in his slacks.

The sound he makes when he catches you staring is barely human—a low, rumbling growl. You watch his cock twitch harder against his slacks.

You search for his eyes, but his focus is locked on your tongue sweeping across your lips.

Higuruma loosens his tie, slowly as his eyes begin their descent—down your throat, your breasts, your stomach—until it lands between your thighs and stays there. Fixed on the wet patch darkening your lace. 

He crouches before you, hands finding your calf. His thumb strokes the curve of the stocking covered muscle with reverence, he's memorizing the shape of you not only by sight but touch as well.

"Bring the other up." You've never heard him sound like this—barely holding on. "Y-Yes, just like that. Now lay back—hips forward."

Pulse hammering, you sink deeper into the cushions, propping your leg up as his hands find your hips, guiding them forward, bunching your skirt around your waist.

"Good girl."

Your pussy is fully on display now and Higuruma makes a wounded noise as his eyes rake over the panties that have given up pretending to hold in your swollen folds long ago.

"Christ." 

The word punches out of him. His fingers skim the lace edge—barely grazing—and still come back glistening with your slick.

Higuruma swallows hard. "It's criminal the way my girl's been hiding all this under those prim little suits."

His girl.

Higuruma lifts one of your legs, extending it slowly until your stockinged foot rests flat against his chest. His heart pounds beneath your arch, the beat syncing with the pulsating ache of your clit.

His hands work down your leg, firm and thorough, pressing into sore muscles until pleasure bleeds through the ache. Your head tilts back as you stifle a moan and his grip tightens in response.

"I know I don't deserve it, dove, but at least allow me to hear you while I worship you, my dear."

Simultaneously, his thumbs dig into the ball of your foot, and the tension you've been carrying all night unspools in a single, embarrassingly loud whimper.

From the devious look on his face, it's exactly what he wanted.

Higuruma presses a kiss to your Achilles—another apology—and you shiver. He sets your foot down gently, repeats the ritual on the other side. Just as slow. Just as thorough.

A knowing smirk tugs at his lips as he guides your legs up, stockinged feet sliding over his shoulders until you're spread open before him. He leans forward, nuzzling into the fold of your knee—and the scrape of his stubble makes your hips jerk.

“You know, at times I swore I could smell how badly she missed me.” He murmurs into your stockings. “Right through your pretty little skirts." 

Higuruma’s actions follow his words, tracing a slow path with his aquiline nose from your knee to your pussy. "Mmm. I was right. She's been weeping so sweetly through your panties like a needy little thing for weeks, hasn't she?"

Your whines answer for you.

"What about No Nut November?" you whisper, breathless, raising your hips to push his nose in deeper. "I wouldn't want to be a distraction..."

Higuruma inhales deeply, savoring your raw scent. "Never." He exhales breathlessly.

"Everything else has been a distraction from you." His voice drops to gravel, vibrating through you.

You haven’t even savored the admission properly before there's a sharp snap and his teeth bite through one of your garters, tugging the ruined elastic away with a growl before repeating the action.

"Please, Hiro—" You mewl, thighs trembling.

He looks up at you with those dark, knowing eyes. Exhausted and hungry in equal measure.

"This is part of my sentence, doll." His thumb strokes the crease of your thigh, maddeningly gentle. "Trust me—it's far more agonizing for me."

You doubt that.

But you don't dare contradict him—not when there's something sadistic lurking behind all that apology. Something that tells you a part of him would get off on deny you just a tiny bit longer.

His tongue drags flat over your panties, pressing wet fabric into your slit, sucking your slick through the lace like he's trying to wring every drop out.

"These are in my way." He doesn't bother with his teeth this time—just hooks his fingers in the lace and tears.

Riiiip.

You squeal as cool air hits your bare cunt for half a second before his mouth replaces it. The second his tongue splits your folds, every other thought dissolves.

Your head falls back against the cushions as his tongue drags through your folds with long, broad strokes. Like he's been dreaming about this exact taste for a month and finally, finally gets to indulge.

His lips seal over your clit and suck, hard enough that your hips buck off the sofa. His hands dig into the meat of your thighs, pinning you open, holding you still as they quake in his grasp.

"Told you to stay."

The command growled against your cunt, but your body isn’t listening, still squirming as he dips into your entrance, gathering your slick before dragging it back up to your clit—then he spits, letting your own arousal drip onto your swollen nub before his mouth descends again.

"H-Hiro!"

Higuruma doesn't answer.

He's much too occupied with his repentance. Tongue extended, his face is pulled back just enough so you can see the exact pattern being cruelly branded on your sensitive bud as he roughly flicks under your clitoral hood, pushing it back. It's methodical and devastatingly thorough—like he's building a case with his mouth and your orgasm is the verdict.

Though for a defense attorney, the way he's attacking your cunt feels suspiciously prosecutorial.

Your hips tilt up, desperate to ride his face, and he lets you—lips releasing your clit only to plunge his tongue straight into your core, rimming your entrance before fucking into you rapidly. Every thrust grinds his nose further into your clit. His hands find your ass, gripping soft flesh, spreading your cheeks as he lifts your hips to help you rock against his mouth.

This man would happily perish between your thighs.

You're certain of it now.

His own broken groans echo inside your cunt, high off the fact of simply giving you pleasure—and that's what sends you over. You cum hard, thighs clamping around his head, back arching off the sofa as the orgasm tears through you in waves, ecstasy coursing in your veins.

But he doesn't stop.

His tongue keeps working, lapping up your release, his face slick and shining with you. When you try to squirm away—oversensitive and trembling—his grip tightens on your thighs, dragging you back to his mouth.

"I'm not done with you yet, doll."

The words come out ragged, muffled against your puffy cunny as Higuruma's cheek rests against your inner thigh, lips swollen and spit-slick, still connected to your pussy by a thin string of your arousal. He's panting—actually panting—looking genuinely pained by the fact that he has to stop to breathe oxygen instead of burying himself deeper in your folds.

You don't think you could deny Higuruma anything like this.

"One more, Hiro." His breathing quickens at your permission. "T-Then fuck me. Please."

Higuruma doesn't bother with words. Just action—diving back into your depths like a man possessed.

One of his hands releases your thigh, finds your wrist and drags your fingers into his hair.

"Pull." The command is muffled but unmistakable.

You oblige—or rather, you're forced to when his teeth graze your clit and your nails dig into his scalp on instinct. Higuruma growls in pleasure, the sound rumbling through your core.

He has to be aching. Hard enough to hurt, trapped in those slacks. You can't see him from this angle, but you wouldn't be surprised if he's leaking through his slacks from the way he's moaning into your pussy, drunk on the taste of you. A pool of your creamy juices has already gathered on the leather beneath you, obscene and growing in size by the second.

Delirious words spill from his lips between licks—praise and filth whispered directly into your cunt like prayers.

"So sweet—"

A broad lick from entrance to clit.

"So pretty—"

His tongue fucks into you, curling.

"—my divine atonement—"

Your slick coats his chin, his cheeks, drips down his jaw, and he only gets hungrier. More desperate. More crazed. Every gush of arousal you give him is an aphrodisiac—he laps it up like a man dying of thirst, shows no signs of stopping, no signs this will be your last orgasm, only growing more feral as you unravel beneath him.

"P-Pleaseeeee ohh—!"

The second climax builds faster than the first—sharper, meaner, your whole body wound tight as a wire. His tongue relentlessly assaults your clit while two fingers sink into your cunt without warning, crooking against that spot inside you, and your vision whites out.

"That's my pretty girl."

Higuruma pulls back just enough to let you ride out the aftershocks, fingers still drawing merciless circles on your oversensitive clit.

Somewhere behind the roar of blood in your ears, you hear a belt click as fabric shifts. You force your eyes to focus—watching his slacks fall as he stands, his cock springing free—flushed and heavy, bobbing as his cockhead smeared with pre drips down the length of him.

Fuck. Somehow Higuruma looks even bigger than you remember, thick enough to make your whole body clench with want and fear in equal measure.

He kneels, dragging your hips to the edge. His hand wraps around himself, stroking, and you hold your breath—finally, finally—

But he just slaps his cock against your clit. Tap, tap, tap. Precum and spit and slick mixing obscenely

You squirm, clearly overstimmed which draws a smug chuckle from him.

"Is it terrible that I enjoy teasing you?"

"Hiro—" You whine, hips jerking toward him. You pout up at him sweetly—and watch his cock twitch in response. His resolve visibly cracking.

"Yes, doll. Say it again." Higuruma's cock notches at your entrance, pressing but not pushing. "Scream it this time, for me yes?"

You expect more teasing, more torture.

Instead, he snaps his hips forward in one brutal thrust—splitting you open until he's buried to the hilt.

You scream his name so loud you don't even hear it leave your throat.

You might have cum again—you only know because of the string of expletives spilling from Higuruma's mouth, his composure finally shattered.

"F-Fuck, dove—" He's panting, forehead pressed to yours. "She's choking me. You need to relax." A strained laugh escapes him. "She feels like a noose—and I'd prefer to avoid capital punishment tonight, if it's all the same to you."

You can't answer, tears streaming as you gasp from him filling you so completely. Higuruma leans down and licks them up too, tongue tracing the salt tracks on your skin. You're starting to think he's genuinely obsessed with your bodily fluids.

Higuruma pecks your lips gently, letting you adjust.

"Have you not been touching yourself?" His voice is softer now, curiously teasing as he admires the state simply sticking his cock in has reduced you to. "Have you been waiting for me all this time?"

"I w-wasn't g-gonna" You swallow, cunt fluttering around him. "B-But it wasn't enough. It wasn't y-you."

"'Wasn't gonna', huh?" He mocks you, his rich baritone tickling your senses as his thumb returns to your clit to flick over her languidly.

"Naughty girl." He kisses the corner of your mouth. "But I suppose I'll argue a plea deal in your defense this once. It was my fault after all for neglecting you."

Your thighs burn from being spread around his broad hips, the sheer weight of him pressing you into the sofa, his knees braced on the floor. When you finally loosen around him—walls relaxing, body surrendering to him—he slips his tongue into your mouth as his hips begin to move.

Small thrusts at first. Micro-movements. Like he can't bear to have even an inch of himself outside the warm embrace of your slick walls.

Then his hand presses down on your lower belly, and your eyelashes flutter as your eyes roll back.

"There it is." He groans, grinding deeper. "Can you feel how she makes room for me?"

Higuruma doesn't give you the chance to answer before he picks up the pace, hand staying pressed to your stomach, savoring every twitch of your muscles. The exact movement of your guts shifting around him—how your body so lovingly allows him to ruin her from the inside out.

His teeth find your bottom lip, biting down as his other hand slides up to your throat, fingers wrapping around the column of your neck. He squeezes lightly, rhythmically, matching the desperate clench of your pretty pussy around him.

Higuruma wants to cum with you. But he can feel you're already there—already tipping over the edge—

"Hiro... 'm gonna—"

"Oh?" He doesn't slow down. If anything, he fucks you harder. "Without me, dear? How inconsiderate." His thumb presses into the side of your throat. "Go ahead. But I won't be granting leniency. You cum now and then you're going to keep coming until I say stop."

"P-Pleaseeee, m-mercyyy—" You're babbling, desperate. The word slips out before you can stop it: "—Judge."

Higuruma almost cums right then and there, hips stuttering.

"Oh, you're pushing it now, princess."

Your doe eyes blink up at him, and somewhere beneath the desperation, you find the brat in you after all.

"What's wrong, your honor?" The words drip from your lips like honey, saccharine and deliberately provocative. "Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

Higuruma's grip tightens on your throat—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who's in control here. His hips still, cock buried deep, twitching inside you.

"Careful, dove."

You clench around him deliberately.

Something in him snaps. No more warnings.

Higuruma pulls out and you're immediately feeling the loss of him—but before you can protest, his hands are hooking under your thighs and hauling your ass up off the sofa.

Drenched in your combined mess, and his grip slips once before he adjusts, hoisting you higher. Your legs end up over his shoulders, folded nearly in half, and you have nothing—no wall behind you, no leverage, nothing to hold onto but the thick column of his neck.

Completely at Higuruma's mercy.

Your nails dig into his skin on instinct—the only anchor you have.

"There we go." He groans at the bite of pain, positioning his cock at your entrance. "Hold on tight, princess."

He slams you down onto him in one brutal drop.

You scream.

The angle is devastating—deeper than before, impossibly deep, his cock splitting you open while gravity does the rest. You have no control here. Can't set the pace, can't shift positions—can't do anything but cling to him and take it. Every thrust jolts through your entire body, punching the air from your lungs.

Your nails rake down his neck and he hisses, but his eyes roll back in pleasure, not pain.

"Harder." He commands. "Mark me up. I want to feel you for days."

You're too fucked-out to process it fully—is he sadistic or masochistic? Both? Does it matter when he's bouncing you on his cock like you weigh nothing, arms flexing as he lifts and drops you with terrifying ease? You're nothing but a vessel now, suspended and speared utterly for his pleasure.

"I'm going to take care of you, princess. Take care of this pretty pussy." His palms grip your ass, fingers digging in white-knuckled, desperate for leverage as he fucks up into you. "Going to make sure she never goes hungry again. Every morning. Every night. Whenever she asks for it."

"Hiro—" You're sobbing, pleasure cresting unbearably high, just gasps and moans punched out of you with every thrust. "Please, I need to—I can't—"

"Not yet." Higuruma's jaw clenches, fighting his own release. "Hold it."

"I-I c-c-can't—" Your walls are fluttering around him, clenching involuntarily, and you see stars at the edges of your vision. "P-Please, please, J-Judge, I'll do anythinggggg—"

"Anything?" His hips stutter at the title, cock kicking inside you. "Dangerous words, doll. I'll hold you to them."

His grip on your ass tightens, nails biting into the soft flesh now—mirroring what you're doing to his neck. The wet slap of skin echoes obscenely through the office, your slick dripping down his thighs, pooling on the hardwood beneath you.

"From now on—" He's losing rhythm, thrusts turning erratic. "—this pussy gets what she needs... you'll come to me? You'll tell me exactly what she needs?"

"Y-Yes—y-yes!!! Jusss p-pleaseeee—"

"Every ache—" A brutal thrust. "—every need—" Another. "—you bring it to me. Understood?"

You're babbling incoherent confirmations, head lolling back, eyes rolling into your skull.

"Cum, then. Give it to me, babydoll—"

The orgasm tears through you like a live wire—blinding, violent, your pussy clamping down so hard he chokes on a moan. Your nails draw blood on his neck and he growls, burying himself to the hilt—

And then you feel it.

The first hot pulse of him flooding your insides. His cock kicking against your walls, swelling impossibly thicker as he empties himself into you. Rope after rope of cum painting your clenching cunt, so deep you swear you feel the warmth in your throat.

For a long moment, neither of you moves. The noises of your breathing filling the space.

His cock is still buried inside you, softening but not quite soft, and you can feel his cum leaking out around the seal of your bodies—dripping down your thighs, onto the floor, adding to the mess you've already made of his office.

Higuruma's forehead drops to yours, hips grinding through the aftershocks, working every last drop into you. "You feel that? How much I saved for you, dove?"

You can only whimper in response. You do feel it—the obscene heat spreading through your core, the way his cum has nowhere to go with his cock still plugging you full. When he shifts his hips, grinding deeper, some of it squelches out around the seal of your bodies.

"Taking it so well—" His voice is shot, barely above a rasp. "Milking every drop—good girl—"

Your legs are shaking. Your whole body is shaking.

"Hiro..." You're slurring, drunk on him. "Can't... can't feel my legs..."

A breathless laugh rumbles through his chest. "Mm." He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then the tear tracks still drying on your skin. Unbearably tender after everything he just did to you. "That's what happens when you taunt a man who's been starving for a month, doll." 

"Worth it," you giggle.

"Brat." But there's only fondness in his voice.

Slowly, carefully, he shifts his grip—one arm hooked under your ass, the other cradling your back as he finally lets your legs slide off his shoulders. You wince at the change in angle, cunt clenching involuntarily around him, and he groans.

"Easy." His voice is strained. "Keep doing that and we won't make it to the shower."

You're tempted to test him. But exhaustion wins out, your body going limp against his chest as he carries you toward the bathroom.

"Let's get you cleaned up." His lips brush your temple. "Then I'll take you home, hm?"

You pout. After everything—after a month of waiting, of longing, of convincing yourself you were nothing but a convenient release—you're not ready for this to end.

Not ready to go back to your empty apartment and pretend tonight didn't change everything.

Higuruma catches the look on your face and chuckles softly.

"I mean my home," he clarifies, nudging the bathroom door open with his shoulder. "We can clean up properly there. I'll cook you breakfast." He sets you down on the counter, and you shiver at the cold marble against your bare skin—but he doesn't pull out, not yet, his half-hard cock still nestled inside you like he can't bear the separation either. "Then I can worship you the way you deserve. Properly. Without a deadline or a case file waiting on my desk."

Your heart stutters. "You don't have to—"

"I want to." His hands cup your face, thumbs stroking your cheekbones, and his eyes—god, his eyes are so soft now. Tired and tender and looking at you like you're something precious. "I should have done this a month ago. Should have made time. Should have told you what you are to me instead of assuming you'd wait."

"I would have." The admission slips out before you can stop it. "Waited, I mean. For you. I would have."

Something fractures in his expression. He doesn't say anything—just pulls you closer, pressing his lips to your forehead like he's trying to seal a promise there.

"You shouldn't have had to. No more waiting. No more silence. From now on, you tell me what you need—and I'll give it to you. Understood?"

"Understood, counselor."

His lips twitch. "Careful. You keep using titles and we'll never leave this bathroom."

You grin, exhausted and fucked-out and deliriously happy. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Both." He kisses you then—tongue gliding against yours, your taste still lingering. When he pulls back, his cock twitches inside you, thickening again.

"Definitely both."

"Mm." You pull back, pretending to consider. "I don't know. A month is a looooong time. I might need extensive compensation."

"Is that so?" Higuruma quirks a brow.

"Yup! Emotional damages. Pain and suffering." You tick them off on your fingers. "Loss of consortium—"

"You don't know what half those terms mean."

"I know what I want them to mean." you say slyly, clenching around him once more.

Realistically, you don't think either of you are leaving this office tonight.

His laugh rumbles against your lips.

"I'll allow it, counselor. Motion granted."

blkkizzat ©2023-2026 no ai, reposting, plagiarism nor translation allowed.

𝐚𝐧: ahhh i love writing higuruma as an EATERRRRRRRR. this one was a lil bit more angsty, well not really angsty, reader is just super horny and it's making her a delulu pick me cjksdbfkjvhsb. i mean the way he dicked her down tho, who could blame her? lol this one was a bit more cute endings than im used to writing. i feel like its a bit cheesy but w/e, we ball. im tired of editing it hfdjkvhbf. so also sorry for any errors or duplicate sentences as i reworked alot of this fbsdhbsd.