toru's pretty girl

You sighed and tossed your bag on the couch. Another long day at the station. It didn’t help the city was a crime map. You couldn’t go one day without something happening. Then it was the matter of your police chief getting onto you about the Catwoman’s whereabouts. He was pissed you got nothing from that night at the jewelry store. He was threatening to take the case from you, but you couldn’t risk that.

You grabbed a drink from the refrigerator, popping the cap off as you walked into your room. You needed a warm shower. Something to get your mind off your stressful job. Your shower was nice and gave you enough relaxation that you started to think of the Catwoman. You instantly started getting horny thinking of having her on your face once more. You would have to settle for the old trusty pink bullet vibrator.

You settled into your bed after drying off. You reached over and dug through your bedside table and pulled out your vibrator and matching dildo. It didn’t take long to get into the mood considering you had been thinking of her all day. You got straight to it, teasing your nipples with the vibrator. Your other hand glided the dildo through your soaking folds. You imagined her teasing your entrance with her strap, slapping it against your clit until you begged her to fuck you. “Please!” you whined, “oh fuck—” you let the fake appendage slip in. It wasn’t anything too big, just six inches to get you something other than your fingers. You thrusted it in slowly before pressing the vibrator to your clit. Your legs shook and you took the vibrator off with a sigh. You repeated the cycle until you were a soaking mess on the bed. Finally, you sped up your movements with the dildo and tried to reach your g-spot. Your back arched off the bed and you came with a silent scream that turned into a moan.

That seemed to knock you out because you tossed the toy to the side and passed out. When you woke up in the morning you were almost late to work. You barely made it and when you did your boss was standing by your desk.

“<3 you look like shit, and you’re cutting in close,” the tall pink haired man glared at you. Police Chief Sukuna was an extreme hard-ass. He could be rude, demanding, and rumor has it he’s a bit corrupt. However, you tried not to get on his bad side since he was known for giving tough ‘love.’ “Sorry sir, I-umm overslept,” you threw your stuff on your desk.

“Overslept huh? I’m not sure what you’re so tired from, haven’t done shit on this Catwoman case,” he crossed his arms. You nodded, “yup, you said that yesterday,” you pursed your lips. His jaw clenched, “do your fucking job and I wouldn’t have to,” Sukuna tossed a file in front of you, “work on that shit.”

As soon as he turned around you flipped him off. You’ve killed that man in your head so many times. You rolled your eyes and opened the file. It was the evidence file from that night you met Catwoman again. Your thighs clenched. The memories flooded your brain. You had to do a bunch of cleaning in short amount of time. So much cleaning, they questioned why it was overly clean. Your excuse: the night workers cleaned it. Lucky for you, you lead the case, so it didn’t get questioned further.

Flipping through the file you couldn’t focus. Your mind wandered and you started to think about how beautiful her body was, the sound of her voice purring in your ear, and how she licked all over your body. That’s how it was for the rest of the day. She had you hoping another expensive store got robbed, just so you could see her. When time came to clock out, you still hadn’t done much with the case. Sukuna would be on your ass again tomorrow, but you could care less.

You got home, ready to eat and go to sleep, but something was off. When you entered your apartment there was an uneasy feeling in the air. You immediately drew your gun. Tiptoeing through your small apartment, you checked the area, but you didn’t find anything out of order. Your bedroom door was cracked open. The faint glow of what you recognized as your lamp light illuminated the room.

You took a deep breath before busting open the door only to be met with a beautiful sight. Catwoman laid across the foot of your bed. Your discarded dildo from the night before was in her mouth. Your mouth dropped and you tossed your gun on the table next to your door. “You keep catching me in these compromising positions, detective <3,” she gave one last lick to the toy before tossing it to the side, “c’mere,” she beckoned with her finger. She stood from the bed while your feet mindlessly transported you to her.

She tilted your head up by your chin. “how’d you get in here?” you whispered. She grinned, “I don’t know detective,” she batted her eyelashes, “it’s your job to figure it out,” she brushed her thumb over your lips. You rolled your eyes. She put on a fake pout, “aww is my pretty detective mad?” she grinned, “aren’t you happy I cleaned your toy for you?”

You’re not sure why it just occurred to you she saw you masturbating to her. Then she licked your juices off the same toy you used. Anyone else would be terrified, yet you were soaking wet.

“Well, umm how much did you see—hear…last night I mean?” You rubbed your hand over your face. She hummed, kissing your cheeks and peppering smooches on your lips, “I heard those sweet moans of yours, watched you fuck yourself silly on that dick, it made me so horny,” her lustful eyes bore into yours. Your knees buckled. “Want to watch you do it again.”

You were pulled into another sloppy make out. Her hands roamed all over your body, pulling your work shirt from your jeans. You pulled away breathless, “tell me who you are,” you reached for the zipper of her suit. “You said next time, this is next time.”

“Hmm you’re so cute and demanding,” she said, “do the honors.” With shaky hands you pulled the zipper down to lift her mask up. You peeled it up slowly, your heart thumped. When you lifted the mask, your eyes lit up. It was as if she was a glowing beam. Soft short white hair cut into layers fell out. Her side bangs fell into her face and outlined her sharp jawline. She was gorgeous, with her plump pink lips and blue eyes. You had finally seen all of her. “You’re so…beautiful,” you eyed her up and down. “Will you tell me your name now?” you cupped her face in your hands.

“Sure cutie, but first can you do something for me?” she trailed her sharp diamond covered nails down your shirt, tearing it down the middle. You nodded, too eager to please the woman in front of you. You were pushed down to the floor with a devious grin. She opened her suit more until it dropped to the ground around her ankles. “Have a quick taste,” she pushed your face towards her spread legs.

Your lips latched onto her already soaking core. Her head tipped back with a long drawn-out moan. She gripped her nipples, pinching them. Looking up at her, you lapped her juices up, getting lost in the way she bit her lip. Her grip on your hair was loose, just enough to keep your mouth on her. You closed your eyes, basking in her taste on your tongue and her moans. “Oh shit, f-fuck!” Her knees buckled a bit when you slid two fingers into her awaiting cunt. You pumped them in and out, trying to scoop as much cum from her as you could. “h—ha,” she gripped the back of your head tighter, “m’gonna cum on your face baby,” she bucked her hips across your lips. You hummed and sped up your ministrations on her pussy. You curled your fingers, and she let out a sound between a moan and squeak. You slurped her up, smiling against her sticky pussy when she came down.

“Did so good f’me baby,” you were pulled off your knees. Her blue eyes were hazed over with lust, “such a good girl, <3,” she kissed you again. You felt like you were floating, and no one could catch you, but her. When she pulled away, her cum danced between your lips, a string of saliva connected you two.

“Name?” you questioned, “or do I have to do more ‘favors?” You cocked your head to the side. Her hand came down hard on your ass, “you’re being really bratty today detective, but since you did such a good job, I’ll tell you,” She smoothed over the cheek that she’d slapped. Her caress was gentle as she led you to your bed. You sat down and she stood over you. “My name is Satoru Gojo, but you can call me whatever you’d like, pretty,” she winked.

She leaned down to kiss you again. You pulled her onto the bed. She grabbed your breast, pinching and fondling them in her hands. “Satoru,” you whispered. It danced on the tip of your tongue, like a never-ending call for her. She hummed and licked the side of your face, “my name sounds so pretty coming from you,” Satoru grabbed your throat, squeezing with little force, just enough for your breath to hitch. Her stare cut into your soul and your heart began to pound faster. “Can’t wait for you to scream it bet it’ll sound even prettier.”

Satoru’s fingers hovered over your clothed pussy. You still had your jeans on, but they wouldn’t last very long. The next moment she was pulling them and your underwear down in one swoop. “Shit you’re so perfect.” Her hands roamed everywhere on your body. “Saw this pretty body last night, you looked so hot fucking yourself. Had me leaking in my suit.” Her hand came down on your cunt. A bit of a splash popping up and you let out a surprised squeak. Your thighs tried to close, but she ripped them open, “don’t hide from me, baby, wanna see my wet girl.”

“Satoru please—please do something.” You were beyond aching now. You couldn’t wait any longer. Her taste was still lingering on your tongue, and her scent of vanilla and strawberries filled the air. “please fuck me,” you pleaded. It sounded truly pathetic, but you didn’t care. Her fingers ran through your folds, up and down in a slow teasing manner. Her devious grin spread even wider when you bucked your hips into her fingers.

“So cute and desperate,” she slid two long slender fingers in. She built up a steady pace, rubbing your clit with her thumb while her fingers thrusted into you slowly. You withered next to her. She propped herself up on her forearm, looking down at your face while she finger fucked you. Your face twisted in pleasure; soft moans fell from your lips. Your hands gripped onto the sheet when she started to go faster. “S-Satoru oh—oh fuck!” Her fingers were your new obsession. You thought you loved her tongue most, but her fingers were soft, and they knew just where to hit. The same hands that had stolen million dollars’ worth of diamonds and jewelry. They knew just how to please you.

Something would have to be done about the Catwoman situation, but for now you pressed your lips to Satoru’s. You moaned against her as she found that spot that made your eyes cross. “ngh Satoru m’cumming!” your legs shook. She licked and sucked on your neck, no doubt making marks everyone would see. You came hard, your body thrashing around the bed. She chuckled and continued to thrust her fingers into you. “’s too much!” you pushed her hand away.

Her pout was adorable. “Can barely handle my fingers baby, not sure if you can handle my strap,” she pulled her fingers out. They played with your wetness, gliding on the outside of your folds. You jerked a bit from the cold on your warm body. “I can handle it,” you murmured. She grinned, “hmm I’m not sure you can pretty girl, might hurt this cute little cunt, it’s bigger than that toy you were playing with.” She trailed your wetness up your body. You whined when she pinched your nipple. “Greedy little thing,” she grabbed your face. Her fingers dipped into your mouth making you taste yourself.

Her eyes lit up and before you knew it she was on her knees licking the trail she had left behind. Your stomach dipped. She was relentless with her tongue. When she was done cleaning you up. She grabbed your 6-inch dildo and your vibrator. Turning the vibrator on she pressed it to your clit. Your head fell back, but you couldn’t even muster a moan. It felt too good. “Eyes on me baby,” you lifted your head and opened your eyes. Satoru hovered over you with your toy shoved in her pretty pussy. “Oh fuck,” you grabbed hold of her waist. Your eyes closed once more. Seeing her was starting to make you hazy. “Uh-uh look at me,” you made eye contact, “watch me fuck myself, pretty,” she moaned. She started to fuck herself with your toy. Her other hand rubbed your vibrator over your cunt.

“So puffy and pretty, fuck you’re gonna make me cum, darling!” she sped her movements up. You pinched her nipples between your fingers. The squelching of her gushing pussy was mesmerizing. “S—shit oh my—” her eyes crossed when you brushed your thumb over her clit, “f—fucking ngh open your mouth baby, open that pretty fucking mouth.” You obeyed expecting her to spit into your dry mouth, but instead she pumped the toy faster and moved to hover over your face. “Oh my fucking—shit!” she came. It was a violent squirt into your awaiting mouth. You pulled her down into your face more. You followed right behind her while you gulped down her syrupy juice. She screamed your name out gripping hold of the headboard with shaky limbs. Your legs twitched from the aftershocks and the vibrator still snuggling against your clit until you reached down to push it off.

You tried to keep her on your tongue, but she quickly moved out of your grip to bend down and kiss you. It was a sloppy mess of cum and tongue. You held onto her tightly, caressing her smooth skin. You loved the feeling of her breast pressing against yours. Your bodies mingled together in perfect sync. Pulling away you brushed your fingers through her hair. She purred like a kitten and nuzzled her face against yours. “That feel good?” you mumbled into her skin. She nodded and continued to purr. You smiled.

In the distance you heard police sirens. Satoru tensed and lifted her head. “Stay this time, with me,” you lifted her face to yours. No doubt you looked a hot mess with sweat and cum drenching you both, but she kissed your lips anyway. You hugged her tighter, not risking her changing her mind. When you did pull away you groaned. You felt filthy, not in a bad way, just knowing you needed a shower, “join me for a shower?” you asked her.

“Hmm why shower when I can clean you,” she whispered before licking behind your ear. You knew you shouldn’t have, but you melted under her touch. “Clean me in the shower, Satoru.” She pouted, “you’re no fun sometimes,” she laid down on your chest. You laughed and eventually got her up and into the shower. When you came out you quickly changed the sheets and gave her some clothes to wear. You ordered takeout and the two of you talked in bed.

“I should arrest you, you know that right?” you traced your fingers up and down her arm. She smirked, “but you won’t.” You huffed, “I’m gonna lose my job.” She giggled, “then I’ll take care of you, you’ll come live with me.”

“Yeah because living off stolen money sounds fun,” you playfully rolled your eyes. She scoffed, “it’s not all stolen, darling, there’s a thrill in stealing from the rich,” she clicked her tongue, “especially if you are one.” She kissed your nose. Her eyelids fluttered a bit, like she was fighting the urge to let sleep take her. “But I’ll stop—” she murmured, “only for you though.”

The Tokyo streets glow with sodium lamps and neon signs that are blinking overhead. The streets are mostly empty, aside from a few stragglers and drunks passed out along the sidewalk.

It isn’t until ten minutes into your walk that you feel it—eyes. You glance around, confused. There’s no one you can see, just a small cat on the other side of the street that isn’t even watching you, finding more interest in it’s own paw. Shrugging you keep walking.

Five minutes later you cut into a narrow alley. A shortcut home you normally take after a night out with the girls, granted they are with you—safety in numbers or something. Your drunken mind isn’t really concerned with that right now, though. Your feet are cold, small stones digging into your toes where you’re walking, and you’re lucky you haven’t encountered something sharp yet.

A little bit further into the dark alley you feel it again, that heavy sense of being watched. Whipping your head around you see someone stand at the end of the alleyway. The person’s silhouette completely black, except for the stark white hair that’s illuminated by the streetlight from above. The second thing you note is how tall they are. And the third thing you notice is the eyes—they’re glowing. Piercing blue looking over at you.

He’s just… staring at you. But when he sees you looking at him, he takes a step towards you. Then another. And another. You back up, pointing a finger at him.

“Stay there!” you bark out, finger trembling slightly. “Stay,” you repeat, firmer. The man halts, one pale eyebrow lifting in amusement.

“That’s right. Good boy.” If you were sober, you’d cringe at calling a stranger good boy, but right now all you can think of is that you’re drunk, barefoot, in an alley, and this guy is, what—seven feet tall?

His face becomes clearer now, a bit of moonlight illuminating some of the planes of his face. His skin is porcelain-like, eyes like a kaleidoscope of every blue imaginable, and a smirk is on his face, clearly enjoying this entire interaction.

Right, you’re staring. You clear your throat. “I-I’m going now. You just… stay there.”

He only crosses his arms and leans against the wall, still watching. You slowly nod your head, taking a small step back. Okay, good, he’s staying right where he is. Where you told him to stay. Turning around you nearly scream bloody murder.

He’s right there.

A gasp slips from your lips, mouth dropping open while your eyes bug out of your skull. Did the alcohol in your system fuck you up so bad you somehow turned around slow enough for him to walk in front of you without you noticing it?

You crane your neck up to look at him, stumbling back slightly with the change of your head, before you steady yourself again. He’s smiling down at you, and it’s a nice smile, honestly. It would’ve been charming, if not for the fangs. They’re long, sharp, and very obvious.

Alarm bells blare in your head, muffled slightly by the badum badum badum of your heart in your ears. Impossibly blue eyes, inhuman speed, and now fangs.

“Vampire,” you whisper, voice barely audible.

The stranger’s smile widens. “Ding, ding, ding, sweetheart.”

You swallow hard, of course this would happen to you today out of all days, after being told your friend is fucking your ex and leaving you stranded, alone, in the club.

Your hand slips into your bag, fingers fumbling, digging, trying to search for the bag you had touched earlier that night. But the more you keep fumbling, the harder your heart is starting to beat. Did you make up the fact that you had the bag with you? He notices the motion, of course he does.

“Oh? Gonna pepper spray me? Call a friend?” there’s clear amusement in his voice, “Newsflash, sweetheart, I’m way too fast for that.”

Your fingers keep searching. Come on, come on, come on— There. The pads of your fingers skim over the plastic bag, and it crinkles under the motion. Bingo.

Your heart slams against your ribcage. God, please let that dumb folklore be right. You grab the bag an dump it onto the ground, a soft thud sounds through the alley as thousands of rice grains scatter across the tiles.

The vampire’s head snaps down. He stares for a few seconds, blinks, then crouches. He mutters something under his breath and begins to count, fast—really fucking fast.

You stare at this seven-foot, hulking creature for a few more seconds. Then you take one step back, and another, and another. Then you run, feet pounding against the floor down the alley.

You risk a glance over your shoulder, just hoping he isn’t fast enough to count all of that within seconds. Big mistake. He’s still counting, luckily. But… he looks kind of cute doing it, nevermind the part where he’s a seven-foot vampire.

You slow down, feet coming to a halt, before you turn back and walk up just enough to grab your phone from where it fell onto the ground.

Click.

He doesn’t look up, but the twitch of his fingers tell you he heard it. “Cute.”

Gojo has never seen something like this before. He didn’t expect to be pelted with grains of rice by a cute drunk girl he’d set his sights on the moment she stumbled out of the club. Worse, he has the compelling urge to count them all. He isn’t sure why, all he knows is that he has to count them.

It’s something he’ll look into when he gets home.

It was a smart move on your part, clearly having read some sort of vampire lore before—unless you throw rice at every creep you encounter. However you came back, feet still bare, one of your heels lay abandoned further down the alleyway.

Then you whispered something about how cute he was, as if he isn’t a whole seven feet of vampire.

Now? Now you’re sitting across from him, feet still bare and dirty with grime and small pebbles stuck to your toes—how you haven’t noticed is beyond him—heel danling from your fingers, and your dress is riding up your thighs.

You’re mumbling incoherently about your ex and your friend, not that he’s paying attention to it, all his focus is on the stupid grains of rice.

He isn’t sure why you aren’t running. You know he’s a vampire, having seen his speed, his fangs, his eyes—hell, you even whispered it, vampire. Yet you’re still sitting here, in front of him, as if you’re keeping him company.

He knows you’re drunk, he can smell it on your breath, and if that wasn’t the dead giveaway then the stumbling and walking back to a fucking vampire would be. No one would do that shit when they’re sober.

You’re recounting a story about your ex now, gesturing wildly into the cool night-air. He’s had to restart his count a total of three times already because you keep distracting him. The first time you accidentally kicked the pile when you went to sit down, apologising to him for fucking it up.

The second time you ‘accidentally’ smacked his arm when telling him something. You’d said it was accidental because you were gesturing, but he thinks it’s because he wasn’t paying attention to your story.

He can only hope that the third time just works out for him, because he really wants to sink his fangs into your glistening skin—apart from the sweat you’d certainly built up in the club there’s something else to it, maybe a shimmer you’d applied before leaving for the club earlier today.

He only has a few hundred grains of rice left when your phone rings. And just like anything else tonight, you pick it up without any hesitation.

Gojo can hear a man on the other side of the line, saying something snarky. He isn’t tuned into the conversation, but his ears could hear everything if he wanted to, but he’s still counting, and he’d rather focus on that and finally feed himself than listen to whatever is being said by you or the man.

3124 3125 3126 3127… He’s about to count the last grain of rice when you suddenly flip the phone to him, screen illuminating his skin in a mix of blue and green. 3159 grains of rice, all counted.

He finally looks up and sees a guy filling your screen. Faux blond hair with green roots, brown eyes, and a smirk on his face that quickly morphs into something else. Then you turn your phone back to yourself, slurring out a, “See, ‘m with someone. Now leave m’ alone, asshole.”

Gojo hears the call disconnect, sees the way your screen goes dark. The only light illuminating your skin now is the pale moonlight. Then you take a deep breath and promptly fling yourself backward onto the ground.

“See what I have to deal with?” your eyes find his, a small pout formed on your face while your brows furrow. Gojo doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with those piercing blue eyes. He crosses his arms over his chest and clears his throat. “I’m gonna give you a twenty-second head start, sweetheart. If I were you I’d take it.”

Your brows furrow in confusion this time, nose crinkling slightly. God, you really forgot, didn’t you?

He heaves a sigh and opens his mouth just enough to show his fangs. They glint in the moonlight, showing of just how sharp they are. You squint your eyes a bit, then they open wide again.

“Vampire,” you whisper again, voice fully trembling. But then you groan, it rumbles through your chest a bit, and kick your feet a little. “I don’ wanna runnnn.”

Gojo has to close his eyes for a second and take a deep breath. He likes the chase that comes from when people are afraid of him. Likes it even more when his prey think they can outrun him. They can’t, but he sure does like having them believe they can. Blood always tastes sweeter when there’s a hint of fear involved, after all.

He opens his eyes again and looks straight at you. Then he leans in a little, breath just shy of ghosting the shell of your ear.

“Run,” he whispers, voice sticky sweet as honey. He can see the way your eyes gloss over a bit. Then you’re scrambling upward, and dart out of the alley—your other heel clattering to the ground.

Gojo, true to his word, waits a full twenty seconds. Then he’s in front of you again, making you yelp and dash away again, stumbling over your own feet a little, crashing into the wall, scraping your hand on the rough stones.

The cat and mouse game continues for what he thinks is a full ten minutes. He can hear your heart pounding, blood rushing through your body, and your whispers of ‘Please don’t kill me, I’m way too hot’ and ‘I should’ve stayed home’ and ‘He is kinda cute, though.’

He ignores that last one.

It isn’t until you stumble up the steps of a house where he catches you. His broad chest pressed to your back, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, fingers dipping into your sides,, while the other is planted next to your head on the door.

“Gotcha,” he whispers into your hair. You’re trembling in his grip, knees almost buckling out form under you. You’re pressed flat against the front door of your house.

You were so close, all you had to do was open it and you would’ve been fine.

You can feel the way his pecs are squished against your back. He’s hunched over you, entire frame leaning down so he can nose against your hair. His muscles are bulging out of his shirt, making you press your thighs together.

It’s a weird mixture of fear and arousal that’s shooting through you. You know he’s a vampire, know he can kill you in an instant—and maybe he will drain you of all your blood—but he’s also so tall. His entire hand splayed out over your tummy now.

He chuckles when he notices the way you’re pressing your thighs together. His cold breath fanning over your skin, almost like a night breeze caressing your face. “You gonna let me in, sweets?”

You know you shouldn’t. Know you should try to get out of his cold, undead grip as fast as you can. The door is right there, one step and you’d be free of him. One big step, you’d just have to get out of his grasp. Sure he has bulging muscles and probably inhuman strength, but you can twist your way out of this, can’t you? Just do a little shimmy and free yourself.

The big hand that’s on your stomach can’t possibly keep you right there, pressed against him, can it? Nevermind the fact that he has such thick forearms and biceps and triceps even Greek Gods would be jealous of.

Turning a bit to the left, you try to see if you have any wiggle room, only for him to chuckle once more. His fingers dig into your flesh a bit harder now, indenting the skin where he touches you. Welp, there goes your plan, straight out the window.

“Promise not to kill me?” You don’t dare to look at him, afraid his eyes will put you under a spell yet again. You know you should’ve ran the first time he told you to, but you were too out of your mind to fully grasp the situation. “Mhmm, just want some of your blood.”

That seems… reasonable enough. You fumble with your keys slightly, still trembling in your grip, the keys and keychains clinking against each other. It’s the only sound in the entire street, everyone else already being in bed—which is no surprise, considering you left the club at… three or something like that.

When you finally slot your keys into the hole, you twist it open, pushing the door open to your dark hallway.

You’re about to set a foot into your house when the guy tugs you back against his chest. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Right, he’s a vampire and not just some random hookup you dragged home. A very handsome vampire, though. If you’re going out, at least it’s by a hottie. Oh fuck, he really can just kill you. I mean, he just said he wouldn’t, but he can lie about it. Then again, he could’ve killed you ten times over already.

“What’s your name?” That seems to catch him off-guard. Blinking a few times, those baby blues looking you over in wonder a few times, and you can’t help but melt into him a bit—only for you to stand up straight again when you feel how fucking cold he is.

“Satoru,” is all he mumbles out, fangs poking out slightly. He really is cute for a terrifying creature.

Nodding your head you nudge the door open even further, extending your hand into your house with a flourish. “Come in, Satoru.”

The next second you’re picked up before he all but throws you onto your couch, your body bouncing a bit before he’s on you. A yelp leaves your lips, heart pounding out of your ribs, fingers shaking slightly, breaths heavy.

Right, he is a vampire with inhuman speed and strength. Your pupils dilate a bit, hairs standing on edge when he grins down at you with those too-sharp canines. His eyes almost seem to glow in this moment, face shadowed completely.

You’re frozen in place, reality settling in like someone poured a cold cup of water over your head to sober you up.

You just invited a vampire into your house. To drink your blood. Way to fucking go.

“Ready, sweets?” He murmurs down at you, picking up your hand where it lies limp beside you on the couch, pulse hammering in your ears. He brings your fingers up to his mouth, before wrapping his lips around the bloodied appendages, tongue laving over the wounds there. You’d honestly forgotten you even had them—too busy running away from him to notice just how scratched up your clammy palms were.

His saliva stings your skin, making you pull away, only for him to hold your wrist in place. He licks a broad stripe from your palms up to your fingers, leaving behind a red trail—blood and saliva mixed together.

When you don’t answer he grins a bit wider, lips slightly red by your blood. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

With that he surges forward, one strong arm wrapping around your waist to keep you from squirming while the other quickly brushes away the hairs that are falling over your shoulder. His fangs puncture your skin just above your collarbone, and it feels like your nerves are on fire.

Your mouth opens in a scream, only to have it clamped shut by a big palm. Tears spring to your eyes, fat drops falling down the apples of your cheeks before they drip from your jawline onto the couch below.

You can feel the way your blood is leaving you. Satoru is sucking on the wound hard enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your skull—not in pleasure, but in pain. Pure agony running through your veins now.

From all the vampire lore, you whished the aphrodisiac bite was at least true. But instead of pleasure surging through you, it’s pain. Pure pain. You can feel the way your body jerks from the sensation, but Satoru just tightens his hold onto you, pushing you further into the couch.

The last thing you see before the dark takes ahold of you is the blue glow emitting from his eyes, casting the two of you in a soft, blue glare, making his pale hair stand out against the darkness of the room.

You wake up surrounded by softness. Blinking a few times you register just where you are—your own bed. Your pillow is soft and fluffy under your head, and your blanket is keeping you warm. Your head is absolutely pounding, a dull thud behind your eyes making you groan.

Just how much did you have to drink last night?

Thinking back on the night before, you can remember bits and pieces. You went out with your friend to celebrate… something, only for her to leave you alone at the club later that night.

Why did she leave you alone again?

Racking your brain, you try to fill in the gaps as good as you can. You remember drinking and dancing. Hips moving to the beat—well you tried to, but you probably were off-beat if you’re going to be honest—while your friend was laughing with you.

Then she leaned forward with a smile on her face and murmured something in your ear. What the fuck did she say that she had to leave?

You furrow your brows, closing your eyes once more. Right, right, it’s coming all back to you now. She told you she was dating Naoya out of all people. Even after you’d told her every minute detail about that scumbag, she still chose to be with him, destroying your trust in the process.

Fucking bitch. And then she just up and left you there to get home by yourself.

Okay, now you know why your head is pounding—having drank waayyy too much alcohol to at least have a good night by yourself. But how did you get home?

You pat around your bed to search for your phone, twisting your neck to look to your left side, only for a hiss to leave your lips when you feel just how much your neck hurts. Your hand shoots to the spot, only to find gauze under your fingertips.

Gauze? Why is there gauze on your neck out of all places.

You rub your head with your other hand, only to feel small scabs on your fingertips. Opening your eyes you look at your hand, only to see it being scabbed over at some places.

Right, you scratched your hand on the wall when running away from that cute vampire. …Wait, what??

Sitting up you look around your room, to hopefully see said vampire, but he’s nowhere to be found. A laugh bubbles up in your chest and leaves your lips. A vampire, how stupid is that. Your drunken mind probably made all of that up.

Seeing a weird silhouette in an alleyway sure is scary, so you just began to run back home. Yeah, yeah that must be it. Your drunken mind having conjured up a whole story about a guy that doesn’t exist. Vampires aren’t real; they’re just myths made up to scare children.

So why is there gauze on your collarbone?

Your head is pounding all the same, these silly questions surely can wait until after you had some water, or coffee.

Standing up you’re about to walk downstairs when you hear someone… humming? Your shoulders immediately tense up, feet planting themselves in their place. Why is there someone in your house?

Grabbing the nearest object—a vase with fake flowers, because nowadays it’s too much to ask guys to get you some flowers—you tiptoe down the stairs, careful to not make a sound. It’s one thing if there’s someone in your house, it’s another when they know you’re there.

On the last step you hear someone call out to you. “Oh, you’re awake. That’s good!”

You nearly drop the vase in shock, fingers slipping slightly, before you tighten your grip again. Your heart hammering out of your chest, goosebumps littering your skin, and before you can even do anything, a tall, white-haired man walks into view.

And suddenly everything from last night slams back into you. No, your mind hadn’t simply made up Satoru, it’s real. The gauze on your throat a bitter reminder that there are, in fact, vampires roaming the earth.

“What the fuck are you still doing in my house?” you ask him, setting the vase down onto your kitchen counter before walking up to him. You poke your finger against his arm, testing to see if he really is real, or if you might still be drunk. “You’re real, right?”

Gojo just chuckles at you, his fangs poking through his lips at your question. His fingers wrap themselves around your wrist—ice cold to the touch, making you tremble slightly from just how cold they are—stopping you from poking him any further.

“Duh, you can’t make up a face this pretty.” He gestures to his face with a small pout on his face. Okay, conceited much. You scrunch your nose up at that, looking him dead in the eye—the same eyes that glowed last night while he was feasting on you - is that the correct term? You’re not sure, but you don’t really care, either.

“As for your question, I stayed because I might’ve drained you a bit too much. The alcohol in your system made your blood thinner, so I had a harder time gauging just how much I drank. So I stayed to be certain you wouldn’t pass awa— anyway. Alcohol makes your blood taste bitter, by the way, Certainly didn’t help you weren’t as afraid as I wanted you to be,” he mumbles that last part under his breath.

“Not as afraid as you wanted me to be? I thought my heart was gonna crawl out of my mouth— can you let go of me? You’re cold as fuck,” you try to tug your wrist out of his grasp, only for him to tighten it just slightly, slender fingers enclosing around your wrist.

Grinning he leans down slightly, back hunched just slightly as he looks you in the eye. “Why? You didn’t seem to mind me touching you last night.”

You inhale sharply, the memory of him pressed against your back flooding your mind. His strong chest pressed against your back while his hand was splayed out over your tummy making you all hot and bothered— no, you can’t think like this, fucking stop it.

“Yeah, well, that was just me being drunk,” you mumble out.

He takes a step forward, and another, while you walk backwards, until your back hits the wall. The wall scratching your back slightly, straightening your spine. His hand plants itself next to your head, leaning forward until his nose is almost brushing yours. “You sure that’s all it was? I’m hurt, sweets. You’re saying you don’t find me cute anymore?”

Gulping you press your thighs together, your panties damp under your sleeping shorts, core hot and achy. There’s no denying he’s hot—not quite cute as you called him last night—but should you really do this? He’s a vampire, hot, sure, but still a bloodsucking creature. His grin widens when his eyes flick down to your thighs.

You know you shouldn’t do this. It’s irresponsible, downright stupid, but you can’t deny to yourself that he’s making you horny by just existing.

And suddenly a thought enters your mind, like someone whispered in your ear. Your friend—now ex-friend—is dating your ex. It makes your stomach flip a few times, trying to make sense of the situation you’re in right now.

Fuck it.

Your hands find his pecs that are flexed with the way he’s standing, fabric doing little to hide them. Your finger trails down to his abdomen where you can feel the clearly built muscles. You bat your lashes at him, tilting your head just slightly. “And what if I said I thought you were hot?”

“Then I’d ask to have another taste— a different taste this time,” he murmurs down at you. That’s all you needed, fisting the fabric of his shirt and pulling him down to meet you. Lips crashing against each other in a messy battle of teeth and tongue.

He groans into your mouth, carefully nipping at your lower lip, puncturing it slightly. He sucks on the little droplets of blood before he claims your mouth once more. Copper filling your taste buds, making you moan out slightly.

Then he suddenly picks you up, hands under your thighs while yours find purchase at his broad shoulders, clutching onto them, nails digging into his skin just slightly. He chuckles against your mouth, “I’m not going to drop you.”

And true to his word, he doesn’t drop you, but he does bring you upstairs at speeds you’ve never dreamed of having. He carefully lays you down onto the bed, matrass groaning under both your weight just slightly.

His lips disconnect from yours, and he has to keep himself from groaning out at the sight of your bloodied, kiss-bitten lips. All swollen for him. Gojo peppers featherlight kisses down your throat, until they find the gauze just above your collarbone.

Yelping you look down at him. He’s grinning up at you, blue eyes crinkling slightly while he carefully places another kiss onto the gauze. “That hurts, dickhead.”

“Hmmm, just showing my little blood bag some appreciation,” he purrs before his lips trail further down, all the way until he’s seated onto the floor, cold breath ghosting on your thighs, leaving behind slight goosebumps. “I’m not your personal blood bag.”

He just winks up at you before pressing a kiss to the fat of your thigh. Then one a little higher, another one to the apex of your thigh, and one on your hipbone. You’re squirming out at the feeling of his lips—cold to the touch, but oh so careful.

His fingers hook around your pajama shorts, looking up at you for permission. When you nod he pulls them off you, leaving you in your panties. His pupils dilate when they see the wet spot, “You’re soaked. All this for me?”

Rolling your eyes you look down at him, leaning on your elbows. “How about you touch me instead of being such a conc— oh fuck,” your head lolls back onto your shoulderblades, eyes fluttering shut slightly. His thumb presses onto your clit.

“What was that, sweetheart?” he chuckles when you moan out at the pressure he applies through your panties, thumb circling your twitchy clit. “That’s what I thought.”

He leans down to lick a broad stripe over your panties, moaning out at the taste of you—so sweet, and oh, how he wishes you weren’t drunk last night so he could’ve had a taste of this pussy earlier—lips wrapping around your nub and sucking on it slightly.

“Shit. Fuck— Satoru, right there,” your hand finds his head, fingers threading through his silky locks, pulling on them slightly when he sucks even harder, cheeks hollowing out. Pleasure shoots right through your core, thighs threatening to snap shut. Something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the white-haired man under you, big palms clasping your thighs and keeping them spread riiight open for him. “Just get those panties out of the way already!”

He releases his lips with a pop, making you sigh out. Grinning up at you, one of his fingers comes up to your swollen folds, rubbing them slightly—still with that damn fabric in the way.

“Someone’s eager. You want me to get rid of these cute panties?” He tilts his head slightly before his fingers creep further upwards,, until they hook into them, making you think he’s finally going to get them off you. Instead he pulls the fabric upward, stretching it over your poor twitchy cunt, “But they look so good on you— yeahhh look at that.”

His eyes are zeroed in on where the fabric disappears between your pussy lips slightly, stretching the fabric even further until you’re pushing at his head, whining out.

“Please, please just get them off,” you whine out, tears gathering in your eyes from the way he’s just playing with you, taking his sweet time while your hole is pulsing around nothing. He chuckles once more before letting the fabric snap! against your skin, having you gasp out.

“Guess I should give this pretty pussy what she deserves, huh?” He gives a few taps to your clit, thighs twitching with each pass of his fingers, before he finally hooks a finger around the gusset and pulls it aside, revealing your cunt to the open air.

Without any preamble he dives in, tongue flat against your twitchy clit. Your back immediately arches with the swipe of his tongue—this time without any fabric between the muscle and your aching clit.

One of his slender, cold fingers plunges itself into your soppy hole. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging on it slightly, moaning out at the intrusion. “Fuck— right there.”

He thrusts his finger in and out of you before adding another one. The cold touch such a stark contrast to your hot, needy core it has you keen out. Your legs are trembling in his hold, one of them still spread open by his other hand, while your own creeps down to hold your other leg open for him.

“Such a good girl,” he mumbles out against your core, pleasure shooting through you. He curls those long digits inside of you, trying to find that one spot inside of you while he very lightly nips on your clit, your walls clamping down on his digits. His fingers keep thrusting and curling inside of you, finding finding findi— you loudly moan into the air, head thrown back. Found it.

“F-fuck, Satoru, keep them there ‘m so close,” you sob out, thighs tensing up slightly while he continuously hits your g-spot with perfect precision. Your orgasm crashes over you, tiny fireworks exploding in your tummy. “Cumming— cumming.”

He stays down there, lapping up the slick that’s gushing out of you. Cold tongue dipping into your hole alongside his fingers, opening you up even further for him.

You go limp in his hold a minute later, and he finally detaches himself from your mound—lips shiny with spit and your arousal. Then he pulls his fingers from your hole, stringy juices webbing between his fingers when he spreads them, looking at them in wonder, before putting them in his mouth and moaning out at the sweet, sweet taste that’s you.

“Think you’re ready for me, baby?” He stands up already unbuckling his belt, and you have to swallow once you see his bulge. Fuck. He’s ginormous. You shouldn’t be surprised, this guy is seven-feet tall, everything about him is enormous compared to you, but still you can’t help the way your eyes are almost bulging out of your skull.

He pulls out his cock—angry, red tip swollen and glistening with pre—and wraps his fist around it, giving it a few tugs.

“That’s not gonna fit inside of me,” you blurt out, eyes transfixed on where his hand is still wrapped around his dick. He smirks at that, of course he does. He’s probably heard it a million times before, but of course you had to say it.

He leans forward, tip nudging your clit, coating himself in your arousal. “Relax, it’s gonna fit.”

Gulping you lay back slightly, opening your legs even further to accommodate him. He smiles at that, one hand clamping around your waist while the other guides his member towards your entrance. Taking a deep breath in, he pushes inside your fluttering walls.

A high-pitched moan leaves your lips, sweat breaking on your skin. The stretch is unbelievable—your walls fluttering uselessly around him, and this was just the tip. He hisses at the feeling of your walls clamping down on him—yes, actually hisses, fangs on full display. “Fuck, loosen up baby.”

His fingers come down to your sensitive clit, rubbing on it to keep you distracted from the intrusion—not that it helps. He pushes another inch inside of you, and tears are starting to spill down from your eyes, disappearing into your hairline.

Gojo looks at you, blue eyes almost completely black now. He can feel the way his dick twitches when he sees your tears. Leaning forward he balances on one forearm, tongue lapping up your tears, groaning at the salty taste of your tears.

“You’re too big,” you squeal, hand uselessly pushing against his abdomen. He merely presses a kiss to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth, and finally his lips claim yours, tongue tracing the seam of your sealed lips.

He stays still like that for a little while, letting you get used to the way he’s stretching you out. When he feels you loosen up slightly he pulls his hips back until just his tip remains and pushes back in again, a bit further this time.

You moan out into his mouth, legs wrapping themselves around his waist, and your hands entangle themselves in his hair. “That’s it, knew you could do it.”

With a few more thrusts he finally bottoms out, his hips meeting yours. Tears are flowing free down your face and he has to resist the urge to just bite you with how cute you looked. Fuck, what he wouldn’t do to get a taste of you again—your blood surely much sweeter now.

He looks down, only to grin. Would you look at that. “Look down, sweetheart. See how well you’re taking me?” he grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger and angles your head down. Blinking a few times you look down and—oh! The print of his cock fully visible, bulging your tummy where he’s buried.

“You’re so deep,” you mumble out, slight awe in your voice, only for a broken moan to leave your lips seconds later. Gojo pulls out and thrusts back in, tip smooching your cervix. Again. And again. And again.

A creamy ring starting to circle around his base, balls slapping against your ass with each harsh thrust. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, leaving behind crescent shaped marks. You’re sobbing out into his neck, vision blurring slightly.

“Mhmm, I know.” He presses down onto your stomach where he can feel his own cock through your womb, and it has you keen out even more. Moans and groans and the lewd plap plap plap! of his hips fill the room.

Your legs begin to tremble, cock plummeting in and out of your soppy hole, the squelch it makes has your face heat up, a pretty blush forming on your face as you feel yourself near your second orgasm. After a few more thrusts, you come around him, clear liquid gushing out of you, spraying onto his abdomen, thighs and the sheets below you. Your vision whites out completely while your back arches, mouth forming an ‘o’ that you can’t seem to close.

Satoru hisses when he feels your walls clamp down onto his girth, speeding up his thrusts slightly. “Fuck, lemme cum inside, please.”

Your mind doesn’t register his request at first, too busy trembling around him. It’s only when he starts whining that you take note of his request. “Yes, yes ‘toru. ‘S okay.”

“Shit- need you to say it. Say it out loud for me, pretty,” he pleads with you, his own thighs tensing up slightly. “Y-you can cum inside, S’toru.”

That’s all it takes. He thrusts once more before stilling, his fat tip snug against your cervix while he spills inside of you. Ropes of cum keep coming, emptying his balls inside your greedy cunt completely. His forehead dropping down to yours.

The two of you lay there for a few moments, trying to catch your breath—well, it’s just you who has to catch their breath, but Satoru stays there for you—and calm down slightly.

“Soooo, you need permission to cum inside too, huh?” you giggle at the seven-foot vampire. He just groans, eyes fluttering shut. “Shut up.”

Perm tags: @tojiscreampie @etheralpanic @yoonsucks @liliklei

JJK tags: @mousedit @sugurusbadhabit @cactusvolumes @satorusdollie @kcandy-flosz

©CursedKisss do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or feed my works into AI. I will send Mahito after you if you do.

HANGE ZOE

She loves to experiment with your pussy (duh)

The first time you slept together she denied your orgasm five times just to take notes and the second time she made you cum five time for the same reason.

She loves playing with your clit, using it as a fidget toy, pinching it and twisting it between her fingers.

When it comes to eat, she loves to fuck you with her tongue. She has an awkwardly long tongue that lets her thrust into you very nicely, letting her feel the warmth inside of you

At the same time, her fingers never leave your clit, she likes to try different things with it. There was one time she tried to flick it with her fingers and you had to stop because it fucking hurt.

That's the problem with her, sometimes she doesn't know the things she does can hurt. But when it comes to you, she tries to make sure you're always safe and taken care of.

She loves you messy and even dirty. She insists on eating you out every time you're sweaty or when you confess her that you haven't showered in two days.

SASHA BRAUS

She loves a good full bush, loves to twirl your hairs in her fingers and have to push them aside to find your clit. She loves the tickling in her nose and the scent of your arousal clinging to them.

But when she finds you clit? She's gone. The moment her tongue tastes you, it's very hard to get rid of Sasha

She doesn't eat you for your pleasure, but for hers. Your taste is like cocaine for her, she can't get enough of it.

She's so eager, so so eager. She licks more than sucks, lapping on your juices, slurping and even gagging?? because nothing is enough.

Her aim is to make you squirt and drink it all, she doesn't care what it is or what it's not, she just know that it came from you and that she fucking loves it.

You find her begging for a little treat before missions, for a snack while camping... all codes for pussy.

PIECK FINGER

She's a lazy pussy eater, prefers that you sit on her face and ride it how you like it, using her for your own pleasure. That's what gets her off, you using her like you want.

She grabs you by your thighs, not letting you feel shy about your weight or if you might crash her. She just wants you on her face, coating it of your juices while you ride her nose.

She also pulls her tongue out to add more pleasure to you.

When you think she's not enjoying it for the lack of noise and the lack of movement, you try to get up, only to find her pulling you down again and not letting you get up until you have cum at least twice.

She also aims for squirting so she can feel herself being flooded by you.

ANNIE LEONHART

Oh she's rough and she's nasty. More into fingering and eating, though.

She has the goal of fisting you at some point of her life, right now she only got to four fingers inside of your pussy after a lot of prep and teasing.

She loves you soaked, dripping into her sheets and making a mess. She doesn't care if it's cum, squirt or pee, she wants you to feel wet as fuck.

Her favorite position to have you is on her lap, back facing her and at the same time you two facing a mirror so you can see how she tortures your clit and finger-fucks you fast and rough.

She wants you to be loud, bouncing on her fingers and she thrusts them deeper, curling them just right.

She's also into spitting on your pussy hard against your clit, sending you shivers down your core.

Every time she spreads your legs, you know you're in for a ride.

A breakthrough director, his films earning unimaginable riches, shooting random nobodies to the top of the mountain along with him. He doesn't act himself, only allowing images of him in behind the scenes interviews in the back of Hustler. He proved to the critics that sex sells, and it sells well.

A familiar whistle catches your attention, causing you to whip around, Shiu already telling you to come here before you can register what he's saying. You look between your boss and the man to his left, and a churning begins in your stomach at the sight. Your skates seem to move on their own, leading you right to the men, long strides that seem to slow time.

"Hey, sugar," Shiu greets as you skate up, turning his attention to the man next to him, "this is who I was talking about. Stunner, isn't she?"

And Mr. Nanami agrees. He nods along, agrees that you're a stunner.

Shiu starts again, "This is my old boss, he goes by a diff—"

"I know," You cut him off, sticking your hand out and offering your name. Mr. Nanami takes your palm in his delicately, presenting you with a kiss to the back of your hand.

"Pleasure to meet you," Mr. Nanami purrs, eyes intensely locking with yours.

And, oh, is it a pleasure to meet him.

Nanami knows Shiu would murder him if he found out about this. He's been celibate for years, so long he'd lost count. Yet, here he is, throwing it all down the drain for a waitress at his friend's club. In the broom closet.

However, he doesn't feel bad at all. The real deal always feels better than the films.

"Fuck, yeah," You moan into Mr. Nanami's ear, nails scratching his chest. Your back arches as you throw your ass back against him, enthusiastically out-performing the man who knows how to perform.

Your right leg is propped on a stack of boxes, hands holding yourself upright against a shelf. The bottles of cleaning products and extra supplies move with the harsh thrusts of Nanami's hips, forcing sounds out of you that you didn't know were in there. One hand of his wraps around your jaw, the other snaking under your thigh and right to your clit.

"You wanna work for me?" He asks, punctuating his question with a particularly rough thrust, almost knocking your chin against the shelf. "My main girl? My star?"

"Uh-huh!" You encourage him, craning your neck back to get even a glimpse of the sultry man who's destroying you. He looks better than every scenario you'd made up in your mind.

Textured hands grab around your waist, his cock quickly leaving your cunt as he flips you around and presses your back against the shelf. The corners dig into your shoulder blades, but that pain is ignored the moment Mr. Nanami's lips wrap around your clit.

You thread your fingers through his hair, a thigh hooks over his shoulder, giving all the control to yourself, pulling him in closer.

"Don't stop, don't you dare—fucking—," You curse, filthy words flying from your throat at the feeling.

His tongue dips down, and he licks up, abusing the sensitive bud as if it's muscle memory. You can feel your thighs beginning to quiver, struggling to hold yourself up, even with the support of Nanami's strong arms.

And, for the first time in your short twenty-something years of life, you can feel an orgasm building—an orgasm being given by somebody else. A man. A bonafide, hairy-chested, gold-chain-wearing man. The fact of who the man is almost makes you cum on the spot.

With your relentless moaning and whining, Nanami knows how close you are. He can feel it, sense it. He already knows the ins and outs of your body and it's not even midnight. Your cunt clenches around nothing, slick practically dripping from his chin as he continues to punish your clit.

"Mis—ter—I'm so—gonna," You try and warn him, words coming out sloppy, fingers almost ripping the blonde hair from his scalp. Your orgasm crashes over you easily, heavy, sending chills from your curled toes all the way up your spine.

Mr. Nanami works you through it like a seasoned pro, soothing hands rubbing your hips as you come down. He looks up at you, pulling his face from your soaked cunt, a string of arousal still connecting the two of you. He's almost too good-looking down there for your liking, barely touched by the heated moment you just had, only suffering from a few hairs out of place and unbuttoned slacks.

"Roller girl," He mumbles, shrugging your thigh off his shoulder and standing up. He taps your ankles, holding your panties for you to step into, truly a gentleman.

"Huh?" You shakily sound out, quivering legs stepping into your undergarments. Shaky hands balance on his thick shoulders, crumpling the expensive fabric.

"Your screen name," Mr. Nanami states, pulling the lace up your legs, snugly securing it around your hips, "My roller girl."

“where you think you’re goin’, baby?” he drawled from the couch, hand palming his growing bulge. “wearing that around me like it ain’t a threat.”

you giggled, tossing him a look over your shoulder. “just getting some water.”

he was behind you in seconds. big tattooed hands engulfing your hips. his cock already stiff and pressed against your ass as he buried his face in your neck.

“enjin.”

“don’t start with me,” he growled roughly. “you walk around with that fat pussy jiggling, and you expect me not to wreck it?”

you were dripping before he even bent you over the counter, because you knew what came next. he loved how soft you were. loved your belly, your thick thighs, your plush little pussy that swallowed his cock like it was made for him. always soaking, always warm, always clenching like it didn’t wanna let him go.

and enjin? he never wanted to leave. not when you sounded like that. whimpering and gasping as he sank into you, fat cunt stretching around his girth with obscene, wet squelches.

“fuck,” he grunted, bottoming out with a groan. “you feel that, baby? how your pussy just pulls me in?”

your voice was already shaking. “e-enjin, slow down.”

“why?” he snarled, fucking into you harder. “when this greedy fuckin’ hole keeps takin’ me so good?”

he watched your ass jiggle with every thrust, watched his cock disappear into your soaked heat, watched creamy slick coat the insides of your thighs and it broke him. he grabbed your waist, dragging you back onto him rougher, deeper. “gonna fill you up, baby. stretch that fat little pussy until it leaks for me.”

you moaned wantonly loud. because you loved it when he talked like that, filthy and desperate and ruined just from the way your body felt around his cock.

“wanna knock you up every time i see you,” he gritted, rutting into you with brutal need. “that what you want? you want me to breed this pussy, huh?” you were shaking and gasping now. “say it.”

“y-yes enjin. want your cum. want it in me.” you sobbed.

he snapped. with a guttural moan and a final, punishing thrust he buried himself to the hilt. his cock twitched once, twice, before he blew a thick, hot load into you. rope after rope of cum flooding your insides until it was spilling out around his cock, dripping onto the floor. he didn’t pull out yet as his wide palms cupped your ass. his fingers slid down to catch the mess.

“don’t move, baby. not done yet. gotta fuck it back in.” enjin hummed against your ear as he rolled his hips slowly, forcing his cock deeper into your oversensitive, stuffed pussy. “can’t waste a fuckin’ drop. you think i’m playin’, sweetheart?”

you let out a broken gasp, hands trembling against the countertop. “enjin, t-too much—”

he grabbed your hips and pulled you back, rough and greedy, his cock still nestled inside you to the hilt. you could feel your mixed arousal oozing out around him with every subtle motion. his cum, still thick and hot, dripping down your thighs.

“too much?” he repeated. “you gave me this fat little pussy and told me it was mine, didn’t you?”

he fucked into you with a sharp thrust once, hard enough to make you cry out and jolt forward.

“that’s what happens, baby. i warned you i was greedy,” he groaned, teeth grazing your skin. “now take it like the filthy little thing you are.”

your whole body trembled. he was leaking inside you, still so full, so hard and so desperate. every slow, punishing thrust made your overstimulated cunt squeeze down like it didn’t know the difference between pain and pleasure anymore. but enjin knew exactly what your body was saying, because it was soaked and twitching. dripping with his cum and still spreading for him like you couldn’t get enough.

“your mouth’s a fuckin’ liar,” he rasped, pulling back just to slam into you again. “but your cunt? your cunt’s begging for me.”

you moaned loudly, helplessly, as he wrapped one hand around your throat and pulled you upright. your back hit his, slick with sweat, chest and his other hand drifted down your belly.

“look at this soft little stomach,” he murmured, nuzzling into your hair. “you know how many times i’ve imagined it round with my kid?”

your breath caught. he rubbed slow circles across your lower belly. his hips still rocked against you with deep, possessive thrust - each one ached with need, and heat.

“stuffed you full already,” he groaned. “but i wanna see it take. wanna watch this pussy get fat with my load and keep it.”

you whimpered completely wrecked and enjin snapped. twirling you around he grabbed you under the thighs and lifts you like you weighed nothing. he lowered you down on the couch and opened your thighs wide. legs shaking he showed no mercy as his slick cock pressed right back into your dripping hole. you weren’t even sure if he’d ever left.

he looked downright wild as his gold eyes met yours. wild, deranged, but also so worshipful as his hand slid over your soft body.

“look at you,” he murmured softly. “messy, swollen, so pretty like this.”

you whimpered again, back arching as he rolled his hips. “enjin.”

he slid a hand down your thigh, gripping your flesh tight. “one more, baby. i’ll make it deep. i’ll mark you up good.” and when he slowly sank back into your fat little pussy, his voice turned rough with devotion, “gonna fuck you until all you feel is me.”

For weeks, you’d been craving something else.

You were tired of the routine, the protective, gentle way he touched you like you were made of glass.

You wanted him to stop being the "gentle guy" and just fuck you like he was absolutely pissed off at you.

“You know, Enjin… for a guy who talks so much, you’re kinda lackluster where it counts.”

Enjin stopped mid-pour.

The coffee pot just hovered there. He turned his head slowly, hair falling over those sharp eyes, giving you a look of pure, flat-out disbelief.

“Lackluster? Lackluster?!” He repeated it like the word was a personal insult. He set the pot down with a heavy clink. “Babe, you trippin'. I know for a fact I spend half my nights makin’ sure you’re screamin’ my name so loud the neighbors know it.”

You just shrugged, leaning back against the counter and giving him a slow, head-to-toe look that said “prove it.” Your heart was going a mile a minute, but you kept your face bored.

“Maybe… you’re just a softie, like a gentle giant. It’s… cute. But it’s a little boring sometimes.”

Enjin’s jaw tightened. You could see the pulse jumping in his tattooed neck. He let out a low chuckle.

“A softie? Boring?”

He was across the kitchen in two steps, looming over you. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, but his thumb stayed there, pressing into your jaw.

“You really askin' for it today, ain't ya? “ You met his gaze, golden eyes sparking.

“…Just sayin’.”

Enjin’s eyes went dark.

“Alright then. You really wanna see what happens when I stop playin' nice?”

He didn't wait for an answer. He lunged, his hand—rough and big—clamping around your throat. Not enough to hurt, just enough to pin you against the kitchen table.

“Don’t say I didn't warn ya, babe. ’Cause now I’m gonna fuck that attitude right out of you!”

Oh.

[...]

The kitchen table was creaking—screeching—under the weight of his aggression.

Enjin has you hiked up, back to his chest. His beefy arms are locked under yours in a punishing full nelson, forcing your spine to arch until your tits are practically pointing at the ceiling.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

“Yeah—h-hah—not so soft now... is it, babe?!” Enjin rasps, his words broken by sharp, ragged gasps for air against your ear.

He’s slamming into you, but he can’t stop talking, the words spilling out like hes got no filter left.

“Look at ya... look how you shakin' for a 'softie', huh?! Thought I was boring? Thought I was just some gentle giant?! hah… Nah, babe, you knew exactly what was comin' when you opened that mouth!”

You could feel his thighs, braced against yours to keep you from sliding. His hands were interlaced behind your neck, trapping you, making you feel every single thick, veiny inch as it slid in and out. His stomach smacked against your ass with a wet, heavy slap-slap-slap.

The sound was disgusting—wet and loud in the quiet kitchen. The stubble on his chin scratched your neck as he buried his face there, inhaling your scent like he was starving. Spit dripped from your lip onto the wood every time he hit your cervix with a thud that made your vision go blurry.

“Look at the mess—fuck—Look at the mess you makin!” he wheezed, hot breath scorching your skin.

“You soppin' wet, babe. Slippin' all over the place... huff... you so damn tight, it's like you tryna trap me inside ya. Don't let go, yeah? Just like that... take every bit of it.”

He was huge.

Raw, he felt twice as wide, stretching you until you were sure you’d split. Every vein on his shaft was scraping your walls, hitting spots you didn't even know you had.

Squish. Slap. Squish.

“E-Enjin... hah... please... can't... I can't think...” you sob, your head lolling back against his shoulder.

“Please what? Hah?! Speak up, babe!” He snarls, stretching you apart so he can watch himself slide back in, doooooown to the hilt. “You wanted it hard, didn’t ya?! Keep that same energy! Talk that shit now! You like that?! You like how I'm doin' ya right now?!”

“Yes!… L-love it... uuungh... so deep... Enjin, more...” you mumble, your fingers digging into the ink on his forearms, barely able to form the words.

Thud-thud-thud.

“Yeah, pretty,” he mutters, his blonde hair damp with sweat and tickling your cheek. “You so pretty… hah… and you all mine. You hear me? All mine, babe.”

He lets go of your neck for a second, reaching around to cup your face, tilting your head back so you have to look at him. He gives you a couple of light, sharp slaps on the cheek—just enough to make your skin sting and your brain snap back to the moment.

“Hey— look at me!” he commands, his voice cracking. “Stay with me, babe. Don't go fadin' out yet. I need you to feel every bit of this.”

He gives you another soft, rhythmic tap on your face. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, catching only glimpses of his golden stare.

“How many times... huff... is that now, huh? Hah... You lost count? Tell me! Tell me how many times I make you cum already?! Count 'em for me, babe!"

“I... I don't... hah... three? Four? I... Enjin, I’m gonna... ungh...” you sobbed, head shaking frantically as another wave of pleasure crashed over you.

“That’s what I thought!” he growled, his grip tightening behind your neck as he pulled you even tighter against his sweat-slicked, tattooed chest. “Guess I’ll just have to keep goin’ until you forget your own name, too!”

He slowed down—a torturous, wet drag—only to give you a long, deep grind.

“Say it! Tell me you love me…uugh… Tell me you love every fuckin' inch of me right now! Say it... hah... say it, babe!”

“I… i love you— please, just shut up and fuck me...!”

Enjin let out a loud, raspy bark of a laugh, and those deep dimples flashed in his cheeks as he looked at you.

“Shut up?! Hah…! Nah, babe, you don't get to tell me to shut up when you lookin' this good! I gotta tell ya... I gotta say it... your pussy is literally the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life! It’s like it was made just for me, you hear?!”

He was driving into you so hard that the sweat started working against him.

Slap. Slap. Slap

Your skin was too slick, and for a split second, his grip faltered. You began to slide forward, but you instinctively reached back, your fingers catching the thick strands of his hair right at the roots. You yanked him hard, anchoring yourself against him, forcing his hips to stay locked against yours as you tilted your head back, gasping for air.

“Yeah... holy shit— grab on, babe! Grip it just like that! Don't you dare let go!”

His eyes were blown wide as his hands moved to pin yours against his body, ensuring you couldn't slip again.

“That's it... hold me right there! God, you feelin' so damn good, I'm 'bout to lose my mind!…ungh...” he groans, a deep sound from the back of his throat. “You gon' take all of it! Raw! Every damn drop! Squeeeeeze me, babe. Squeeze me like you mean it! Fuckkk—!”

He pulled back just an inch, then plunged deep again with a final, guttural shout. You felt a hot, heavy gush flood into your deepest core, filling you, stretching you, burning inside you. He was pouring himself into you, claiming every last inch of your wet, spasming body.

Enjin stayed buried inside you for what felt like an eternity, his forehead pressed hard against the crook of your neck.

Both of you were just… wrecked. The only sound in the kitchen was the ragged, syncopated rhythm of your breathing—loud, wet, and heavy in the humid air.

Slowly, he pulled out. The sound was a pathetic, sticky schlorp that made you whimper, feeling suddenly cold and empty. Your arms, still locked in that position, finally went slack as he released your body.

You slumped onto the table, cheek pressing against the damp wood.

“Man… hah… phew…” Enjin wheezed, wiping sweat from his chin. “Seriously... huff... remind me to find out who made this table. I gotta send ‘em a thank you note or somethin'. Any other would’ve snapped in half ten minutes ago. Best damn... hah... investment we ever made!”

You let out a weak, broken chuckle. “I’m glad… huff… you’re worried about the furniture… while I can’t even feel my toes.”

He looked at the absolute disaster of the kitchen—the spilled coffee, the smears on the table, the puddles on the floor.

You tried to push yourself up, but your knees just buckled, a soft "oh" escaping your lips.

“Whoa, whoa! Easy there!”

Before you could hit the floor, Enjin scooped you up into a bridal carry.

“Girl, you a straight up mess... sooooo pretty,” he murmured, the smell of tobacco and perfume lingering on his skin. “You alright? For real? I didn't actually break ya, did I?”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “You definitely… finished the job, Enjin.”

He grinned, walking toward the hallway. “Damn right I did. Never doubt a pro, remember?”

He set you down by the tub and turned on the water. “Now, get in. Go hit the shower before you catch a cold. And I’ll have that kitchen lookin' brand new by the time you done scrubbin' off.”

You watched him from the doorway.

“You’re really gonna clean all that up by yourself?”

“Of course, babe! I said I got it, didn't I?” He paused at the door. “Besides… the sooner that table's clean, the sooner we can see if it'll handle a second round”

“Enjin, no!”

“We’ll see, babe! We’ll see!”

> END_OF_FILE.

[ A/N: GODDD THIS MAN DRIVES ME CRAZYYYYYYYYY YOU HAVE NO IDEA, btw go check my tiktokkkk (@ suki_miuu) sometimes i post headcanons and… stuff lol

also pls comment n interact w me so i can keep improving my ficsss 🫶

also the fic is heavily inspired by p power by gunna & drake, and i really tried to keep enjin as canon as possible cuz to me (enjin expert fr) he’s not like brute brute during it]

> SECURE_LOGOUT... DONE.

(C) 2004 SUKI-MIU (AKA. FANÁTICA DE LO SENSUAL) PRODUCTIONS. NO CENSORSHIP.