bakugou finds a list you made before you dated him
“one. big cock and knows how to use it. two and it’s in all caps. EATER.”
you rest on your forearms on your sofa, looking across the living room to your boyfriend who has appeared from your bedroom. he’s reading a crumpled sheet of paper from god knows where with a massive grin on his face.
“did you get the fan from my room? katsuki, it’s hot!” you whine petulantly. you've got your thin shorts and bralette on, trying to fight the heatwave that has taken over your city.
the heat has beat you down, left you stranded in your living room with three ice lolly packets in your path and skin sticky. you can feel the sweat trickle down your spine, you can see it gathered on katsuki’s exposed forehead, yet he still stands there reading.
“hold on, i’m lovin’ this,” he says, gold tooth shining as his mouth stretches wider, “three. rich and generous with it. is that right? you with me for my cock and money?”
you blink at him a few times, trying not to get distracted by his shirtless bare chest or the black headband he’s got on to push his unruly blonde locks back. he’s handsome, deliciously so. still, you think back to why everything he’s saying is so familiar.
“four. handsome. deliciously so. body and face. rare,” bakugou laughs, boyish and booming, “thanks, babe.”
you feel uncomfortable, perspiration dribbling between your breasts, limbs heavy with exhaustion.
“what is that? what are you reading?”
still bakugou ignores you and continues reading from the paper, “five. successful and ambitious. six. good friend even though he pretends he’s not. protective!! seven. so gentlemanly, holding open doors, paying for dates, very clear on why he likes me.” ruby pupils flicker over to you, “that last one is bare minimum.”
then it clicks, about seven points too late. your head snaps over to him robotically, eyes about to fall out of your head. “where the hell did you find that! stop reading it! stop katsuki!”
you hop up from your seat on your sofa, speed like no other taking over you as you run across the room to grab at the paper in bakugou’s hands. his laugh only booms louder, holding the flimsy sheet in the air over your head as you jump like a child.
“seriously, don’t read anymore!” you shout, trying to hoist yourself up his larger body, using his arms and shoulder as a climbing frame.
nothing about bakugou budges, he just continues reading with the paper in the air.
“it’s getting good, baby!” he laughs, ignoring your jumps and furrowed brows, “eight. listens to me. really listens. makes me feel heard and remembers what i say.”
he looks down at you, whose fingertips are slapping the bottom of the paper. you recognise it all too clearly now. the pink ruled lines, the edges ripped out from one of your old notebooks. your handwriting. “that’s cute. i still listen to you, don’t i?”
“you’re not now! give it back!”
“i’m almost done, two more,” bakugou says, hooking his arm behind your back to keep you locked close to him. you’re both sweaty and sticky. you’ve got no choice but to listen, “nine. cooks. such a good cook! you added five exclamation marks there. ten. fulfils some of my love languages. some?”
“now stop.” you urge. he can’t turn the paper around. he can’t.
bakugou pecks your forehead, his cheeks blushed with all the compliments. he continues skimming the list, rereading it.
“so this is why you chose to date me, huh?” he looks down at you, pouts his lips, “c'mon gimme a kiss.”
if you just grab it out his hands, he won’t see the other side. with pros always comes—
he stops pouting at you.
“give me the paper. i wrote this all a few years ago!”
“if these are the pros, where’s the cons? you must have done a cons list.”
you shake your head, side to side. he holds the paper away from you. the opposite side, the list of all your cons, written back at you. you loop out of his arm, trying to reach for it.
he notices you staring, eyes fixated and that’s when he flips the paper around. CONS in big red capital lettering.
“this is private! you weren’t meant to see this, you shouldn’t be snooping in my room!” you squeak but bakugou’s already half down the page, pupils running across every line like he’s in a race.
“one. WILL choose his job over me—,”
“well obviously, your job is to save the world!”
“two. odd relationship with his mother? but apparently it’s better than before.”
“it’s so much better now!”
bakugou’s eyebrows drop now, voice getting lower as he continues, “three. argumentative. argues with EVERYONE. his agency workers, the media and his friends.”
“i understand why you argue with them all now! it makes sense!”
“three. his job is terrifying.”
bakugou looks over to you, solemn narrowed eyes and you don’t have a positive word to say about that.
“it is, sometimes i don’t know if you’ll come home.”
“four. he doesn’t do much else besides work. all his friends are from work.” bakugou pinches his nose bridge, “really? you think that?”
“now i don’t! and i know they’re childhood friends and… and we do things together all the time. i know you love to read, game, you’ve got your lego. i didn’t know all of that then.”
“five. don’t know if my friends and family will understand.” bakugou steps away from you, “the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
you huff on the spot, “this was from when i met you! all they’ve seen of you is shouting and yelling on the television. they didn’t know how lovable you are. how well you treat me.”
bakugou looks at you, then back at the paper. scratches his head. “six. inexperienced with sex but it’s really cute. has never had a girlfriend?”
“but number one pro is that you know how to use it. obviously we’re experienced now, we know everything about each other,” you flick your finger between you and your boyfriend.
“and the girlfriend comment? i can’t help the fact you’re my first.”
“no, i mean yes i know that. it was just a question as to why. it doesn’t mean anything to me now.”
“but it was a factor in whether you wanted to be my girlfriend,” he states.
“well, yeah,” you drawl, “i thought maybe there was a reason as to why. that’s all.”
bakugou raises his eyebrows, looks back at the sheet, “seven. doesn’t always have time for me. travels a lot for work.”
“that hasn’t changed.” bakugou grunts. it’s something he knows you struggle with while dating him. it’s even been a conversation you’ve had a few times throughout your relationship. quality time. you want to spend more time with him but he simply can’t.
you sigh, grabbing his chin between your fingers so he looks directly at you. his eyes are half lidded, cheeks red and exhausted from the negativity and heat. “we’ve been through this. i’m still gonna stick by you, everything i love about you means more than all the things i find difficult.”
he takes your palm away from your face and squeezes it. but you can tell he’s feeling off. “the last one. eight, he’s surrounded by beautiful women all the time.”
“you’re with celebrities, pro heroes, socialites a lot,” you shrug, “that was jealousy on my part, nothing to do with you.”
“i don’t give a fuck about any of that.”
you nod sharply, “i know! i wrote this a while ago, two years even? a lot has changed.”
bakugou sighs from the pit of his stomach, then flings his head back in a huff. “fuck, baby.” he groans.
then he looks down at you, looking up at him.
“just wanna put it out there, that was private, you weren’t meant to see that, my opinions have now changed and i’m sure you had a mental pro con list for me. i just wrote mine down.”
bakugou folds the paper, “yeah, yeah, i get it. you hate my job that much, huh? it covered half of the fuckin’ cons.
“i also said i liked you were successful and ambitious.” you sit on the back of the sofa, crossing your arms.
bakugou mirrors you standing, crossing his arms too. “but nothing about my job has changed since we’ve got together.”
you groan, leaning your head on your shoulder, “katsuki, i think you’re making problems out of nothing here.”
“you made a list of the problems with datin’ me.” he frowns, holding the folded paper between two fingers.
“and a list of the reasons why i wanted to date you. obviously the good reasons won if i’m with you now.” you glare at him with a sharp tone.
he begins to pace around the room, paper still in hand. a terrible sign. you watch as sweat trickles down his skin, body flush with heat.
“but, babe. the problems you’ve had with me from before we were dating are still problems now. i still don’t have time for you, you still are terrified every time i’m minutes late from a mission, you don’t think i’d choose you over my job and you don’t think i do anything but work.”
you moan aloud, “and i still want you despite that all. i get the world needs you, heck, i need you if i come across a villain. i don’t hate you for being a hero.”
he stops behind you, on the other side of the sofa, “i don’t want you to resent me when you realise you could have been with someone who does have more time for you, isn’t obsessed with their job, can put you first and doesn’t scare you.”
you hop off the sofa. leaning your forehead on his collarbone. “katsuki. i wouldn’t be here if i didn't want to be. i love you. i choose you everyday. i don’t want to argue with you.”
bakugou doesn’t touch you. there’s a shake to his voice, “i’m sorry i’m not better. i’m gonna try to be. just wait for me, fuck, maybe when i’m slower and the younger lot take over, they’ll need me less. it’s just now—,”
“it’s okay. you have time for me right now but you wanna argue with me," you pout up at him.
“you did put that i’m argumentative,” he looks away from you as your hands link around his neck.
“look at me.”
shiny lava red pupils find you. you ground him, takes him out of the what ifs and the failures of his past and places him in the present with you.
“i have dated bakugou katsuki for two years and i love him so much. i love how kind and generous he is, always putting his loved ones first. how he dedicates his life and body to saving the world. how even if he’s tired from a long week of working, he still comes over to cook me a three course meal because he wants to see me eat his food. who was so open and willing to change for me. to change his routines and learn my body. who is argumentative because he wants to make things right. who wanted so hard for my family and friends to love him and manages to see his mother once a week just to check up on her.”
you search in both his eyes and he’s listening, he always is.
“i can write an updated list for you, if you want.”
he shakes his head, stuffs his forehead into your neck and slowly pushes you down into the sofa. you laugh, his hands plastered into your waist as his body crushes you in the plush cushions ever so slightly.
“‘m sorry. i shouldn’t have read it. even though i enjoyed the pros.” he muffles, lips tickling your skin.
you tap his shoulder. “you shouldn’t have but it’s okay. i still need you to get my fan. it’s hot.”
“promise you’ll tell me if you want somethin’ to change between us. i’m not wakin’ up one day to you leavin’ me for a reason right under my nose.” he urges and you can see him pleading. the desperation for you to agree.
“promise. now you promise me.”
“course i promise. i couldn’t even fill out ten reasons as to why i hate you.”
“i didn't say i hate you. and sure you can. you hate my cold feet. you hate how i moan about my job. you hate how i hate your job. you hate how i always want a massage. you hate how i wait until the last minute when you’re tucked up in bed for you to get me a glass of water. you hate how i’m indecisive for what i want for my birthdays and—,”
bakugou sits up, “i don't hate any of that shit. love listenin’ to you and half that shit is cute as hell.”
you pout, “you hate when i wear low cut tops out—,”
he frowns, “that’s foreplay, baby. you let me suck your tits after to make me happy. couldn’t give a shit what you wear.”
“how about how protective my friends are? and the fact i tell them everything?”
bakugou shrugs, “you deserve friends that love you that much and that you can tell everythin’.”
“i get snappy when i’m running late or too much is going on or i’m hot.”
with that bakugou gets up. your fan. though not without hovering over you to give you a peck. then another. you press your soft lips against his though you don’t open up because then you will get even hotter and snappy.
he pulls off you and rises from the sofa, “that makes sense, baby. you’re stressed and uncomfortable.”
you roll your eyes, “stop being so understanding!”
he walks towards your bedroom, but not without turning around to look at you. his fingers grip the door frame, “i love you.”
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toji who falls to his knees when he sees you. actually.
your big and mean grump of a boyfriend worships the ground you walk on. you’re walking around the house with pj shorts on? good luck getting rid of him.
“fuck, baby. i love you so much.” toji’s whole entire face is pushed against your clothed cunt, strong hands holding you in place by your thighs, and he’s breathing in your scent, relishing in what it’s like to be entrapped between your legs.
“you’re a weirdo.” you reply, unbothered and snacking on your blueberries, not expecting him to suddenly drop on the floor like this.
though you’re certainly not complaining.
“can you blame me when my girlfriend is smoking hot?” he teases, gently biting the inside of your thigh.
you let out a giggle but are suddenly interrupted when his nose pushes against your clit through the thin piece of fabric. a soft moan rips from your throat and it only makes toji go even more feral.“fuck it, i’m having you right here.” and with that, he props you up on the kitchen counter and takes off your flimsy shorts so he can properly enjoy his meal.
★ thinking about riding toji fushiguro after a long hard day of work.
the door slammed shut behind you, loud enough to shake the frame. you dropped your bag with a heavy thud and kicked off your shoes, biting back a groan as your muscles protested.
the first thing you saw? toji, sprawled across the couch, shirtless, one hand behind his head, the other lazily flipping through channels like he had nothing better to do.
“you’re home late,” he said, not even glancing your way.
you blinked. slowly. took in the pile of dishes in the sink, the crumbs on the counter, the laundry still sitting where you left it yesterday. “are you kidding me?”
he looked over at you now, smirking. “what? i was gonna get to it.”
you stared. “you’ve been home all day, toji.”
he shrugged like it was nothing. “you know i get distracted. plus, you always do it better anyway.”
that did it.
ten minutes later, you were on top of him, still in your work clothes, straddling his lap while he leaned back against the couch like he was doing you a favor.
his hands rested lazily on your thighs, smug expression plastered all over that stupidly handsome face. “didn’t know my girl was this pent up,” he teased, voice all low and gravelly.
“you’ve got some nerve,” you snapped, breath already uneven as you rocked your hips against him—slow, angry. “i work my ass off and come home to this?”
he groaned, head tipping back like the sound alone turned him on. “keep going, sweetheart. don’t stop now.”
you glared, hand sliding up his chest only to grab a fistful of his hair, forcing his gaze back to yours. “i’m not doing this for you. i’m doing this for me.”
that earned you a sharp inhale, and you could feel the tension in him shift—just a little. he wasn’t so cocky now, but he still refused to take over. just laid there and let you use him like the good-for-nothing, stupidly hot man he was.
“you’re really mad, huh?” he murmured, voice rough. “ride it out, baby. i can take it.”
and you did—furious, exhausted, needy. because no matter how lazy he was, no matter how infuriating, toji knew exactly how to take it. knew how to be just the right kind of problem after a long, hard day.
A/N. Gojo’s came out accidentally a bit fluffy whoopsies.
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Like candy
“Ya better clean your act up, doll.” he chuckles darkly in your ear, lips dragging down your neck. “S’bad manners, y’know?”
Telling you to clean your act up when he was the one making such a mess of you? Oh you could just smack him for that little comment - well, if he didn’t have you folded in half and split apart on his throbbing cock, that is.
And maybe he senses it - you wouldn’t be surprised. Because Toji’s giving a playful bite to your bottom lip, humming into your open mouth, “What? Got something to say to me?” As if to support his point, he pulls out - just enough that his cum dribbles down your shaky legs. “Had me eat that damn chocolate n’ now you’re giving me attitude?”
Only a souvenir from the way he’d gone so feral with just one bite, filling you up over and over until you were left wondering whether it was more the aphrodisiac or that Toji just liked seeing your poor pussy so overfilled and bloated.
“N-no.” you manage to get out.
“Good. Because I’m not done yet.”
It’s all that’s said before he’s pulling out. Completely.
A disappointed little whine leaves your lips before you even realize what’s happening. And you’re left clenching so greedily around nothing, thick globs of cum landing in a pool on the drenched sheets below.
“No- come back-.” If you were in any better state of mind you’d almost be embarrassed about how pathetically you were begging for something- anything. Just anything but for Toji to pull away, kissing down your body until he was face-to-face with your dripping cunt.
But did he listen? Of course not. Because it you were such a fucking vision down there, it was almost hard to look - your pretty pussy all painted white with his cum, seeping into your skin.
And Toji’s so fucking hypnotized that he doesn’t even give you a warning before plunging nose-deep, unable to even think about bringing himself to be disgusted. No, the only thing on his mind was to bully his tongue through your swollen folds, dipping just into your sloppy entrance and ah-
He groans into your cunt as he tastes himself. Tastes you.
Sweet. You were so fucking sweet.
So pretty falling apart on his tongue as he laps up your juices like a man possessed. All your cute, broken little moans going straight to his aching dick. All that cum from before? It wouldn’t go to waste.
“Shit.” you flinch as he hisses out little profanities into your sensitive pussy, “Y’taste so good, so mine.” Words slurred and unfocused, like the chocolate was getting to him - or maybe it was how pussydrunk he was now.
Toji is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his lips around it - clearly having way too much fun with this. And shit you could almost cry from the overstimulation - walls fluttering sensitively around his relentless tongue.
“C’mon, doll.” Toji’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. “Give it t’me. Wan’ it all.”
And he was so fucking messy with it too - Toji always was, but right now it was like he couldn’t decide where to go next. Stretching you out, dipping inside your slutty hole, swirling his tongue against your ravaged clit over and over and-
“Yes! Yes yes yes-” your body jerks violently. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Feels so fucking good- don’ stop-.”
“So demanding.” he tuts mockingly around your dripping entrance, the vibrations sending white-hot jolts of electricity up your spine. But he’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. It wasn’t enough - it never might be and fuck Toji wanted more.
To taste it more. To have you like this - big fat tears dripping down your cheeks, pussy trying to suck up his hot tongue so needily, so hard that it was almost difficult to tonguefuck you into insanity. Half-lucidly, you wondered whether his jaw wasn’t tired, tongue cramping up.
And honestly Toji could stay here on his knees for hours, just teasing you with his tongue - but no, there was something else more important.
“Shit- Toji, m’close m’-”
Without another word, he’s pulling away. Disappointment quickly turning into anticipation at the sheer sight of his face glossed so prettily with your juices, messy and dripping all the way down his chin. You gulp as Toji swipes his tongue across his lips, savoring every last drop of you.
“You’re welcome, I cleaned up your act.” His fist wraps around his still-achingly hard cock, eyes locked on you like a predator cornering his prey, “Now s’time f’me to mess it all up again.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Impatient!
“My love,” he whispers against your ear, barely audible above the bustling office party. One hand reaching down oh-so-covertly to cup your ass against that sinfully thin dress. “If I don’t fuck you right now, I think I might just fuckin’ lose it.”
Oh.
Which is how you found yourself shoved against the wall of the nearest bathroom, the tile cool against your skin. Barely even fully inside before Nanami - desperate and already fumbling with his belt - is swiftly locking the door.
“K-Kento- ah-” you gasp, the words dying in your throat as he shoves your dress up. Bothering just enough to pull aside your panties before spitting on your poor pussy from behind. Once. Twice. Missing on purpose to let a steady stream of saliva and slick trail filthily down your quivering thighs. “People are gonna- hah- wonder…”
God, your head was spinning - Nanami was so fucking filthy right now, all sloppy desperation where he was usually suave kisses, playing you like a fine instrument during sex.
“Let them.” he groans against your ear. Smearing his spit all over your pussy, toying with you in a way that was so maddening. “I jus’ need you right- fuck, right now. Jus’ relax f’me, darling.”
You scoff, both as impatient and needy as you were confused. “Kento, you ngh- drag me out here and tell me to relax?” Clenching so desperately around nothing as he drags his swollen tip up and down your folds, sliding it so lewdly in-between. “Why don’t you just fuck me alre-”
Because the words are barely out of your mouth before he’s pushing in, inching inside just slow enough that he wouldn’t hurt his pretty girl.
“Oh! Shit- ah fuck fuck. S’too- ngh” you can barely form coherent sentences at just the stretch.
“Big?” he’s huffing out a laugh as you keen at the stretch, as if your walls aren’t sucking him in so obscenely, hips bucking up mindlessly for more. “Y’can take it, I know- you can-”
Thrusting only in quick, shallow little jabs of his hips, like he was trying to stop some utterly depraved part of himself from fucking into your cute pussy until you were screaming his name. Not even wanting to give you time to adjust because shit he needed this- wanted this so bad-
Smack!
A hand comes down on the wall just inches away from your head, like a desperate attempt to collect himself.
“Mmm- Kento.” you groan, drunk off the way he was filling you up so good. Full. So full - and he wasn’t even halfway in. wanting more. Veins pulsing against your walls in a dizzying thump! thump! thump! to which your sanity was slowly dancing away from you.
“Y-yes?”
You turn around to bat your lashes at him, “Just fuck me the way I know you want to.”
It’s like something snapped - maybe Nanami’s restraint, maybe his sanity, definitely you by the end of this.
“Well then,” he hums, dangerously low. Looping two strong arms around your waist so you can’t escape. Tight, grip almost bruising. “What m’girl wants, she’s gonna-” Immediately reeling his hips back all the way till his weeping tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance. “-get.”
And God Nanami might be pussydrunk out of his mind, but whatever was left of that rational part of his mind had him shoving his fingers inside your mouth. Muffling the delicious little moan that rips from your throat as he finally bottoms out.
Stretching you to insanity, heavy balls smacking your ass so hard you were sure it would leave marks.
“Y’know, thank fuck for Higuruma. Didn’t think you’d be taking it like such a little slut in the bathroom if he hadn’t slipped me that chocolate.” Not even giving you the time adjust before he was ramming his cock into you, whispering in your ear in such a mean little tone. “Better be thankful now, since m’going easy on you-”
A shiver runs down your spine - maybe at his words, maybe at the way he was fucking you liked he hated you. Not even letting you breathe with the way he had his hips smacking yours, tip kissing your cervix, fingers poised on your throbbing clit.
Ready to break - to ruin you.
“-because we haven’t even gotten home, yet.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - "Shut up and cum."
“It’s probably not even that bad, right?”
Oh, you shouldn’t have said that - you really, really shouldn’t have said that.
Because now, not only was Geto Suguru reeling from the after-effects of swallowing some damned lust curse - he was also going to make you bear the brunt of it. And the words have barely left your mouth before he’s pushing you onto the nearest flat surface - eyes dazed, hair untied, looking miles away as he all but rips off your shorts and drenched panties with it.
Whispering hotly against your ear, “You’re going to fucking regret that.”
That was over an hour ago. Probably, you were too far gone to keep track of the time at this point.
Because what you certainly didn’t expect was to still have Geto buried in your poor, abused cunt, ramming into you from behind like a fucking animal. So hard you were sure it left marks - your thighs on his, his balls on your ass, fingers on your hips.
So debauched and merciless that all you can do is let out a pathetic little ah! ah! ah! each time his angry tip kisses your cervix. Words cracking as you manage to get out, “S-Sugu-”
“Shut up.” Voice so jagged and hoarse that it takes you a second to realize that it’s your boyfriend. Hips only getting sloppier as he speeds up - his only response.
You were getting fucked by your boyfriend - but it didn’t feel like your boyfriend. Just a madman out to ruin your ravaged pussy. He’s been teasing you this whole time - toying with your pretty pussy like his favorite fucktoy. Always stopping just when you were about to cum. Driving you mad so torturously slow.
“But Sugu~” you yelp, and he gives your ass a sharp smack. A warning - but you still plow on, hoping to speak some sense back into the man. “A-all I said was-”
“Didn’t I fucking tell you to shut up?”
Honestly, Geto doesn’t even know why he’s mad - he loves you. He loves when you talk. He loves when you’re all needy for him. But it’s just that his cock was so hard it felt like he was about to fucking explode - and that there was no better cure for that than seeing you all breathless and crying to cum.
Is he being a bully? Yeah. Does it make his balls squeeze so painfully hard watching you try and play with your pretty clit? Only for him to smack your hand away? Fuck yeah.
Which is why he can’t take his eyes off the heavenly sight of you spread so shamefully, sloppy and wet enough that you’re dripping all over him. Face scrunched into such an adorable pout while he massages your plushy walls, trying to milk something delicious..
So fucking pretty. It almost makes him wanna play nice.
“A-all ya gotta do- ngh-” you were milking him so good it was almost impossible for Geto to form coherent sentences. “-is shut up and take it. S’that so hard? Hah-” Hips are erratic now, fucking any and every thought out of your mind. “Running your mouth for what? Just lemme take care of you, gorgeous.”
It’s all you can do to not sob in desperation, hips grinding down traitorously on his cock in an attempt to meet his merciless cadence. You don’t even have to think about it - just some primal, pathetic part of yourself trying to get off.
Surprisingly, Geto lets you - maybe he’s reached his limit, too.
Because he’s letting you reach out an angle his hips, nails digging into his slutty waist. Just trying to fuck yourself deeper. Harder - the way you knew would have him hitting just the right spots that have you-
He’s stopped.
“Now now, what did I say?” Geto’s tutting mockingly, lips curling into such a cruel little smile. And when he looks down at you, you don’t know whether it’s the aphrodisiac or that sadistic little part of himself taking over. Lips ghosting so gently over yours, “If you’re that impatient then make the both of us cum. Now. Or you’re not cumming at all.”
Oh. He definitely hasn’t reached his limit - and you think he won’t stop until he’s broken yours.
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Not enough (never is)
“Please, baby.” Choso lets out a broken little grunt, milking his base tighter. Back arching off the bed each time his fist flies up and down his swollen cock, “C-can’t hah- cum without you.”
God, fuck you and your secret “special chocolate” stash.
Well, Choso wishes he could fuck you right now, because only one bite of that little pink chocolate that he’d found all the way in the back of the refrigerator and that’s all he could think about.
So here he was - pants thrown across the room, boxers shoved down to his ankles. One hand wrapped around his cock, the other trying to muffle those pathetic moans leaving him each time he came at the thought of you. You, looking so unfairly pretty, flashing him that sultry smile before you left for work. You, how much better you’d look on your knees with that smile wrapped around his cock. Looking up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around him - oh, how badly he just wants to steal you away from your workplace.
Trying so desperately to chase- which orgasm was it this time? He didn’t even know, doesn’t even think his fried brain could count right now.
Ah, who gives a shit - Choso just can’t help himself, okay? It wasn’t enough. Never will be - he could cum at just the thought of you over and over again until he physically couldn’t anymore.
“Shit.” Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. “Wan’ your ngh- sweet lips w-wrapped around me.”
“Is that so, Cho?”
Your thighs squeeze together at the way Choso twitches so sensitively in his hands just at the sound of your voice. So red and so so angry, hard enough that you wondered whether it was painful. Eyeing everything from the way he was sprawled so pretty across your bed, a delicate flush spreading all over his body. Fist stalling - but still not stopping - at the sight of you.
Your boyfriend manages to grit out, hips stuttering as he fucks his fist faster and faster, chest heaving, eyes locked on you. “Y-you’re early?”
“Mhm. Seems you’ve been busy?” you purr, walking ever-so-slowly into the heady room. Giving him a big, pouty look you knew he’d like. “Without me?”
And oh he lets out a broken moan of your name. Only getting sloppier - precum glistening all the way down his wrist, erratic with no rhythm like he was desperate to fuck something so delicious out. Something you really wanted to see.
“Ngh- didn’t mean to, baby.” But he didn’t mean it, too focused on the way you were walking so agonizingly slowly towards him. “C-couldn’t stop mm- thinking of you.”
Ah, Choso was so pretty - delicate tears streaming down his face, cheeks flushed, hair undone. So overstimulated and needy that you just couldn’t not tease him. Just a little bit.
“Guess you snuck into my secret stash, huh?” You get down on your knees between those thick, muscled thighs, running your hands up and down his milky skin. “What do we say then, Cho?”
He’s letting out a throaty moan of your name, balls squeezing so fucking painfully at the heavenly below him. What he’s wanted for so long.
So pathetically needy the way he inches his aching cock closer, precum dripping down your tongue, sliding all the way down your throat. Drip! Drip! Drip! So sweet and addictive - but still not giving into what he wanted so badly. “S-sorry-”
“Louder.”
“M’sorry- hngh- baby.”
“Then cum, f’me, Cho. All over m’face.”
And with that, Choso’s painting your pretty face white with him cum. Untouched. At the mere sight of you on your knees. So fucking messy with the way he was pumping out thick, hot cum. Rope after rope on your tongue - so hard and violent as if he hadn’t spent the last hour cumming all over his fist.
Because shit nothing was better than seeing you suck him dry, swallowing every drop like you couldn’t get enough. Especially when you’re letting his seed drip all the way down your chin, looking up at him with delirious, cockdrunk eyes as you spit on his length. Once. Twice.
Palms smearing the saliva and cum along his throbbing length. Making him feel so fucking dirty as you give his pretty pink tip a chaste kiss. Swirling your tongue under the slit just the way he’d done before.
Letting out a muffled little, “Started without me n’ I think you gotta pay the price, hm?”
Yeah, it’ll never be enough with you.
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Easy girl
“Out.”
At first, everyone froze.
It wasn’t unusual for the king of curses to rasp out a command, let alone tell everyone in his throne room to leave. But it was the way he said it - like he’d fucking snap anyone’s neck if they didn’t. And only one look at you - standing doe-eyed and uncertain at the doorway, thighs quivering ever-so-slightly - had everyone running out the room before Sukuna decided to wipe them out. Or worse.
“Kuna…” you huff, shuffling to sit so prettily on his lap once you two were left alone. Nuzzling the crook of his neck, “Missed you.”
Ah, he loved you like this.
You feel Sukuna’s muscled chest rumble with a laugh, pushing you to rest against his pecs as large hands come to rest on your ass. Squeezing and kneading with no care for any marks. “Is that all, brat?” He hums lazily, rocking your hips lazily right where his twitching cock was. “Cuz I can feel how wet that lil’ pussy is n’ I think she has something to tell me.”
And it was true - God, you were so needy and dripping all over Sukuna’s lap. Grinding your hips deliriously to meet his, not even realizing those broken little whimpers leaving your mouth. Shit, you were so far gone. And he knew that.
“I-” you choke, feeling Sukuna’s cock swelling and hardening beneath your throbbing pussy. “...might’ve snuck into the kitchens. Uraume gave me some chocolate and I’ve been feeling so weird ever since.”
Oh, you were so cute. Big fat tears clinging to your lashes while you humped him like a bitch in heat - Sukuna just can’t stop himself from pulling aside your drenched panties. In awe at the way the flimsy fabric barely did anything to hide your pretty cunt, sticky and glistening so sloppily.
“That explains it.”
Rip!
And it’s all that’s said before Sukuna is just tearing your poor panties off, looping it around your neck to pull you closer with it.
Losing his patience with each pathetic little whine spilling from your lips, the way he could feel your pulse around. So delicate and urgent. The way just one tight pull could have you gasping breathlessly.
“My pretty baby was needy, huh?” he chuckles, breath hot against your skin. Letting out a cruel laugh as he thumbs your swollen folds open, circling ÿour sopping hole, “Tell me.” Biting down your neck, “What do you want to do about it, brat?”
You bat your lashes up at him, fabric tightening around your neck. “Wan’ your cock, Kuna.”
Sukuna didn’t have to be asked twice - because what his cute lil’ human wants, she’ll get. And before you can even react, he’s shifting around his robe just enough for his cock to spring free. Already soaked with precum - or maybe that was your slick.
And shit it doesn’t take him even a second to stuff your tight cunt so full. Have you keening at the sheer stretch as he fucks you in shallow, mindless little grinds to squeeze himself inside your plushy walls. Desperate.
Because Sukuna was big, so big that you never got used to that no matter how many times he played with your pretty pussy. Used to a few tears, a few lil’ whines of “S’too big, Kuna!”.
But, now, you were sucking him up so well. Milking his thick cock so well with no preparation, head thrown back and fucking yourself in mindless little bounces to meet his. Like the perfect little slut that Sukuna knew you were.
Sukuna’s mouth drops into a soft little oh! at how quick he bottoms out - the fastest he ever has. You were taking him so good into your sloppy pussy.
Shit, did you even know what you were doing?
“F-fuck, maybe you should have those chocolates more often, huh?” Sukuna mutters with a strange sort of reverence.
Of course, the only response he gets is an incoherent little babble of something - something that went straight to his heavy balls. Too busy with fucking yourself onto his thick cock, already buried so deep inside you, but still pushing relentlessly.
Hips stuttering and leaking your sweet, sweet so sloppily juices all over his thighs. So good but still not enough - still trying to take him deeper. Faster. Needing this more and more by the second.
“C’mon now.” he muses, fucking his hips to meet your filthy cadence, grip tightening around your panties, a signal to answer. And you gasp - both for air and because you feel like you’re literally burning from the inside.
“Ah- fuck fuck fuck I- wan’” Nails raking down his shoulder, messily kissing his lips. A desperate attempt to try and tell him what you really want - and he understands. Of course, he does. “Please.”
Which is probably why Sukuna’s laughing at your pathetic state. Too cockdrunk to speak, huh? Spreading your thighs even farther, so much so that it burned. Hands so bruisingly tight on your hips.
“Ya did well, brat.” he grins, “Now, let me be the one to take care of you.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Won’t get out alive
“Sweetheart, fuck fuck fuck, please- M’gonna-” Gojo doesn’t even get to finish the sentence before he’s spilling all over you hand. Milking his aching cock as he keeps cumming and cumming so much that you wondered whether he’s okay - whether he’d make it out alive, even.
“This is all because of your own stupidity.” you grumble, but still letting him fuck your first through his high - for the nth time today. Hands much smaller and softer than his - shit, was he glad he teleported to your apartment in the middle of class for this.
And as Gojo blinks back his vision, heaving to regain his breath, his orgasm-addled brain finds it in himself to mutter out a pouty little, “S’not my fault.”
You’re so irritated by him and his stupidity that you pay no mind to the way he’s playing with the hem of your panties, fingers sliding so sneakily underneath. Huffing out a sulky, “I’m serious, Toru. If the elders find out then-”
“Then they can suck my dick.” your boyfriend cuts you off oh-so eloquently. Much more interested in just how sinfully drenched your panties were, all messy and sticking to your swollen folds. “But I’d rather this pretty pussy take care of me before that.”
That’s all that is said before Gojo’s immediately pressing his angry, leaking tip into your sloppy pussy, groaning when you clamp down on him so deliciously. God, he was so sensitive he could cum from just this. Hell, maybe he does, a creamy little ring of white forming at the base as he keeps pushing in. Inch by fucking inch.
And he doesn’t stop - can’t stop - until you’re all the way flush against those tufts of white at his toned pelvis.
Gasping breathlessly at the hands all on your hips - your sensitive clit - your face - just everywhere because Gojo just can’t get enough of you. Especially when he’s so needy and desperate like this.
“Who let himself hah- g-get hit with a fucking aphrodisiac technique? On purpose?”
Your tone makes him flinch - and for his swollen cock to start twitching so dangerously exhaustedly inside you. So addictively that Gojo can’t even wait too long for you to adjust. Starting up quick, jagged thrusts into your snug pussy. Grinning quietly, “Whoopsies.”
“Ah! Hngh- Fuck. Y-you deserve to suffer the consequences alone, you dumbass.” you scold, tightening your legs around him. And you can do nothing but buck up deliriously as he speeds up his pace - thumbing your swollen clit, like a little apology.
“I know.” he hums into your skin, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of you he could reach. Gasping at the sheer overstimulation. It hurt so good. “Don’ deserve you.”
“That’s not what I-”
Gojo shuts you up with one, harsh thrust. One that knocks all the air out of your lungs and has you worrying whether he’s pushing his massive cock into your organs. You can only take it as his heavy balls smack your ass harder, throbbing cock massaging your gummy walls over and over and-
“Don’t deserve this heavenly pussy-” getting sloppier now, no rhyme or rhythm. Licking long, languid stripes up your neck. “Don’t deserve those cute lil’ moans, either. Or the way you put up with me.”
Fingers getting frenzied on your clit now - the way they did when he was getting close. Moving in sloppy little patterns that were so eager to get you off.
Broken little profanities leaving him every time his hips stutter inside of you. Too much to handle at this point that Gojo thinks he might just explode.
And then finally, he’s pulling away. So fucking sensitive and overstimulated that tears cling to his long lashes, delicately flushed all the way from the tips of his ears down, down, down to where you couldn’t see. Lips so pretty and pink as they say, “But don’t you think for a second that m’gonna let you go, sweetheart.”
“Cum f’me, Toru.”
And Gojo’s so far-gone that he doesn’t realize when he is - pumping thick, hot ropes of cum into your poor pussy with a strangled groan of what sounds like your name.
Filling you up to the brim like he’d just been waiting for permission. Too proud, too fucking embarrassed to show off this vulnerable little side of himself that was gasping and clawing breathlessly at you. Eyes screwing shut, head thrown back, holding on for some semblance of sanity as he cums harder than he has his entire life.
Babbling out barely-lucid moans of how he’s gonna “get payback for making him cum early” and “make you cum double next time”.
Promises he well and fully intended to fulfill - if the way his cock was still twitching so ferally inside you was anything to go by. Hips fucking up deliriously - strained, like it hurt but he just had to. Like he couldn’t just not fuck your pretty lil’ pussy. Desperately starting up a pace that made you wonder - yeah, he was going to be the death of you.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, cóndom breaks, creampíes, unprotected, PÚSSYDRÚNK MEN, size kínks, full neIson, making it fit, biiig stretches, maIe squírting, cúmplay, HEADLOCKS, making them BEG, manhandIing, dúmbifícation, chokíng, ínappropríate use of jujutsu, first times (Choso, Ino), true form Sukuna, dp, marathons, overstím, slight bréeding, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The stubborn
Your ruthless hips were riding at a sloppy, sensual tempo enough to make the big, bad Toji Fushiguro squirm. Pap after pap enough to make him claw his calloused fingertips into your waist, enough to make him whine–
“Tch- y-your hips.” Gritting his gleaming white canines in a snarl to unsuccessfully hide the way you’d made him stutter, Toji hiccups with every one of your bounces. “Oh my god, your hips, doll- they make me wanna–”
He was struggling. Jaw ticking, mossy eyes narrowed. And you can feel his heavy, stirrin’ red tip twitch inside of you once you lean closer to hear his quieting baritone. “…i-inside.”
“Hmmm– what’s that?” You cup your ear teasingly, “Didn’t hear y- oh!”
And you seriously didn’t think that he wouldn’t bite back, did you? Superhuman reflexes gripping your hips to slam you down once, so hard n’ fast that it makes you keen, groaning only one word—“Inside.”
He wasn’t just begging anymore - he was aching for it.
The meaty mounds of his thighs twitching after every passing second that he wasn’t filling you up, Toji’s chewing down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from leaking with all those syrupy wads of saliva threatening to depart.
Even more once you’re blinking away the sting of his toned v-line hitting the cheeks of your ass, swervin’ in a wiiiide figure-eight that makes the man below you hiss. “Say ‘please.’”
It’s been like this for far too long now.
Fuck, Toji knows this what he gets - he knows he shouldn’t have mocked your cute, needy self for always wanting to be filled up with all his thick ounces. And now you were brutally torturing him with your clingy wet pussy until he regretted it.
“P-please.” It’s wrenched from the very back of his throat, coated with a primal thickness that makes you shudder. In sultry synchronization with the creaking of the bedsprings as he bucks– “Please- I said it- okay? Inside- hafta cum inside- wanna- need to.”
The last few strings of his rationality snaps as long raven lashes glaze over with a thin film of tears, scarred lips wobbling once you’re giving his ravaged shaft a clench.
He’s so big and achingly stuffed inside of you that you can’t even breathe without feeling the mushy swivels he’s planting all the way in your lungs. You watch his broad pecs simmer with hot, desperate perspiration as he moans. Hazy peripherals half-lidding, “Please let me cum inside you, mama?”
And he’s so sexy like this - shaggy black bangs sticking to his face until he’d almost curtained his greedy gaze, mouth trickling with thin lines of drool, cock ruining you - that you almost give in.
Almost.
“Well, maybe if you say ‘pretty pl-’”
That’s just when Toji gives in, too.
Snaps.
And if you thought that his impatient rut earlier was rude, then you weren’t prepared for the way that he’s starting up a pace that fucks you silly.
Plump, puckered lips drooping languidly ajar as he watched his glistening cock pump deeper into your pussy, breath hitching as if he hadn’t even realized he was milking himself on you. Toji gropes a handful of your right asscheek and helps manhandle you up n’ down like a doll.
Rough. Rugged.
He’s searching for your sweetest spots so accurately that even the slightest brush of his puffy, wide veins leave you dizzy. Weepy divot striking your g-spot hard–
“Fuck- fuck!” Your mind’s being so muddled after every punctuating thrust that you almost don’t notice the way that Toji’s grouchy, deep tone breaks. Cracks, “Driving me fuckin’ crazy with this pretty pussy- fucking mad.”
You’re whimpering, one of Toji’s meaty forearms coming to slouch himself partially upright on the bed and listen closer to every sticky plap! No longer solely riding him - he was drilling into you like he was addicted.
Grunting, “Look at you- look at you.”
“Wh-whaaat–?” You sniffle, chin hitting your chest once turn to where he was staaaaring. Dead-on. Where your saturated pussylips were pried apart until you could see every swollen inch he was pushin’ in, the reddened split-end of his crownhead peeking out before each nudge into your favorite spots.
Rolling his eyes, Toji pitches his voice just a few octaves higher into one that definitively does not sound like you. “‘Wh-wh-what?’ she says.”
Dark brows furrowing, a thin line of sweat traces down either side of his temples as he surges into you so hard that the skin ‘round his pelvis reddens. Right hand leaving half-moon crescent nail marks on your hips, “Yer a reeeeal mean girl, y’know?” He huffs and puffs, palm pressing at the base of your spine to get you to gyrate your hips. He’s fully taken over now - cocky. “Drooling all over me like that n’ n-not expecting me to make a mess, too.”
Batting your heavy eyelids, it takes you a few seconds to actually rover your fingertips over the gleaming wet glaze that was drivelling all down Toji’s tensed core.
From the soaked tufts of Stygian black at the base of his cock to the ridges of his abs, your slurping cunt was just spraying out your essence until he was basking in it.
He watches with a sleazy grin as you’re letting the slicked mess dangle from your digits, sticky.
“Yeah, look at that- look at you.” Words high-pitched n’ breathy, gone - with every nanosecond he’s sloppily planting three repeated slam-slam-slams on your spongy cervix, Toji’s falling apart. “Looking like th-that n’ teasing me and- and ohhh ya won’t be teasing me anymore when m’filling you up, doll.”
Truly, he was just so big and barreling inside of you that it was dissolving your poor brain cells- and right now you couldn’t even remember the incident that’d led to this in the first place. “F-filling?”
“Tha’s riiiight–” He’s grinning, “Gonna fill you up now- gonna fill up that pretty pussy until y-you won’t even hngh- remember what s’like without me inside. Gonna fuck you so full you won’t even be able to speak- to breathe.”
You’re flinching once the battle-worn index of his right hand scrapes a line straight from the treacly edge of your cunt - up, up, up past your tummy and all the way to your throat.
“-gonna fill ya up until right here, mama.”
And usually, Toji would never dare cum before he’d made you reach your high at least three times - wouldn’t even mention such a thing.
Usually.
But right now it’s so much, too much that he’s throwing his sweaty crown back into the silken pillows and squirting. You’d made Toji Fushiguro squirt - hard n’ rough, quickly filling you up with gooey sploshes of sap that all but fountains out of your puffy pussylips.
He feels like he’s about to pass out, like he can’t do anything but twitch his colliding hips into yours to plug you up to the very brim. Animalistic. Barely even there.
It’s so hefty and humid past your dripping entrance that you can feel your skin break out in perspiration, unstable voice coming out awed. “Toji- d-did you just-”
“Shut up.”
Fill you up alright - you were so stuffed right now that you barely even register it when he hooks his palm once more to your waist and flips the two of you over.
Dampened bangs of his sticking to your forehead, eyes almost shuttering, the chubby edge of his mushroomy tip pryin’ apart your gluey walls with a resounding squeeeelch once more.
“Wasteful girl-” One of his free hands skim the pale milky sheen formulated on your inner thighs, leaking. Hypnotized, he thrusts- “Said I wanted to c-cum inside you, not squirt. Buckle up, buttercup.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - “W-will it fit?”
Will it fit. Will it fit-
It’s just about the only thing that your husband can think about right now as he’s dragging his rotund fingertips aaaaall over the soppy slit of your cunt, plugging back the thick droplets of cum that just kept on pouring from between.
But he’d be lying if he said that the notion didn’t make his plump, aching balls twitch—
“Pleeeease, Ken?” You’re jutting your lower lip out cutely into a pout, tugging aside your thoroughly drenched panties further n’ further to let Nanami’s half-opened eyes take it alllll in, in this lecherous full nelson. “Promise I can ngh- take one more.”
“B-but, my love-”
And yet, he can’t stop the way his traitorous hips are creeping back a few inches and ramming straight to his massive hilt. Opening your puffy hole so wide on his sheer circumference that it’s making you all stupidly dizzy.
“Your- your body- I don’t wanna hurt you and–” His long blond lashes sweep the edges of his cheekbones as he blinks blearily down at you, sensitivity making him tear up. “I don’t know if I even can anymore-”
Push after push he’s outlining your mushy walls trying to cream himself on you, wringing himself dry. Trying. Brain sparking as he tries to wrench out a few more ribbony droplets of saccharine sap.
You’re mewling, hips jerking back n’ forth with sensitivity once the cold metal of Nanami’s wristwatch scrapes your outer pussy. Pressing deeply into your heated flesh as he snags a few thick digits ‘round your lacy panties, to tug- “But-” and riiiiip it off before you know it. “-if my pretty wife asks…”
Anything you want is yours - including if you want to be stuffed so full to the brim of your soft, syrupy pussy until you can feel him in your damn lungs.
And that’s exactly what Nanami’s doing. Twisting the glazed remnants of that flimsy underwear around his right hand, choking your pretty neck with his left hand. He’s mazing his fattened, cherry-colored tip through your walls until he’s splitting you apart.
So thick that the sheer size of him makes you sob, your legs twitching upwards once he hits the gooey back of your pussy so hard that your mind numbs. “So good- so good I can’t help but keep wanting to hah! fill you up.”
“Oh- oh, just like that–! Want it- ngh- make me your cumdump, Kento.”
“Cumdump- cumdump, huh?” His gravelly tone makes your entrance quiver, gushing walls clenching when he’s surging back to stuff himself inside snugly. Aching for that burning stretch of him, “You like it all inside, darlin’?”
And it’s a rhetorical question - but your sloppy cunt’s squelching out a few answering noises anyway. So fucking wet that even the slighest gyration stirring up your velvety innards slops out a wet puddle.
“O-ohhhh–” He’s groaning, plush lower lip wobbling ever-so-slightly at the sound that sings like music to his ears. “You wanna talk to me baby- s’that it?”
You’re whimpering, goosebumps skittering all over your skin as Nanami’s strong tannish arms push you around - bending you further, more pliably, practically in half as he’s sprawling your thighs over his meaty ones and streeeetching until he can push his fat, reddened cock even deeper. “Oh- you want me to go ngh- deeper? Anything for you, my love. Anything.”
Unsure whether he’s talking to you or your bulging pussy, he’s clawing one of his hands up to his flared nostrils and sniiiffing your wettened panties.
Groaning, “Yeah- yeah.” Nodding- the sensible, stoic Nanami Kento was completely and utterly pussydrunk. Hoarse, “Oh, your s-sweet pussy’s just begging for me to cum inside.”
With a particularly rough scratch of his bawling orifice along your cervix, you’re wailing out shrilly, “Want it- p-please, give it t’me.”
You knew how to read him so easily, because all it takes is another saturated clench before Nanami’s finding his head thrown back. Maw hotly ajaw, golden happy trail scratching your back with a shiver.
“Can I? Can I really?” And there’s something cracked and broken, octaves-higher at the back of his gentle baritone voice. Still in disbelief as he’s plunging his hips into you even sloppier, harder. So, so desperate to make his tenderly overstimulated cock finally cum, “Can’t hah! help it…can’t help it can’t- ngh! Your pussy’s too good s’making an animal outta me.”
“Don’t- miss—ngh!‘ Tearful eyes rolling around in circular patterns like in some cartoon, Nanami has to reach over his left hand until he can tug your chin down to make you watch. Watch the show.
“Promise not to miss, darlin’.”
Won’t miss - couldn’t miss even if he tried, Nanami was dead set on slapping your bruised g-spot until it makes your vision blotch with white.
The exact same creamy ivory that forths out of your greedy cunt once he’s finally, finally hitting his lecherous high. Finishing off in such a wet, primal way that coats both your folds with a glossy polish, his ribbons of cum are so scalding hot that your thighs start getting clammy with slick n’ sweat.
Nibbling down on your plush lower lip, “F-feels so good- hck!”
Full enough that your hole’s being pushed widely agape by Nanami’s rummaging cock until his syrupy cum leaks out. He’s planting two firm feet on the mattress to rut and rut and milk himself, sensitive veins rubbin’ up until tears spring to his hooded peripherals. “You like it a-allll inside, huh? Feel me all up in- here.”
The knobbled end of his thumb comes snaking down stealthily, drawing a little cum-covered heart on the slope of your pussy.
It lets out the wettest, most sinful plop! as you watch Nanami suck off the milky excess, groaning. Pushing his nosebridge back into your stringy panties, it’s as if your pheromones were enough to drive him mad all over again. “Wonder if a third one would fit, my love?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - MEAN!
“N-not yet.” You’re piping up smugly for about the nth time tonight, the rounded mounds of your ass pushing back on Geto’s sharp hipbones until he’s gritting his teeth and forcing himself not to cum.
Not to just cream your gummy walls fully in heaping oodles like he oh-so-badly needed to.
The pretty apples of his cheeks blushing raw n’ red at your endless teasing, Geto spanks his slender palm down on your right ass cheek and watches you shiver. Tiny, wracking trembles of yours turning into full-on gasps once you feel the way he only grows harder. Thicker.
“H-heh, y’know I get bigger when you’re mean to me, gorgeous.” He groans in your ear, raspy and ruined once his big, beefy left forearm comes to trap your throat in a fucking headlock. And he wasn’t merciful, either - Geto’s pushin’ his bicep close until you could feel every vein covering him. “You must really like this biiiig fucking cock then, huh?”
Taking you feverishly from behind, he was just so damn big that you’re feeling his pudgy cockhead push into your lungs.
Dragging a wet line of precum that lets his throbbing shaft slip n’ slide rapidly inside, every plap! of sticky skin-on-skin makes your hazy pupils swirl stupidly in circles inside your eyeballs. Whining, “You’re s-sooo mean, shouldn’t ever let you cum inside, Suguru.”
“I’m mean- I’m mean?” Something scratchy and pitched cracks at the back of his chuckle, gaze dilating wider like he couldn’t even believe what he was hearing. Crazed. “Tellin’ me I-I’m mean when-”
Trailing off, his plush, pink lips pucker up n’ swat your tender slope with a fat wad of saliva. Left hand sneaking slightly past your puffy lips to watch it sliiiide straight down your drooling slit, “-when you’re this fucking wet n’ expecting me not to cum inside?”
You’re so sappily drenched that every harsh rut is making you gush out in all but torrents, a few beads of slick starting to drizzle down your inner thighs.
But of course, Geto Suguru couldn’t have that.
And without a second thought, he’s dragging his thick ringed fingers down those translucent gumdrops and slipping them into his mouth. Groaning at the sweetness, “Look h-how much you’re begging- how much you’re- hah! sucking me up.”
So snug inside your cute pussy that every creeping reel of his hips backwards left you bouncing too- the sight is so cute that Geto can’t help but splash out yet another treacly stream of spittle.
“O-oh my god, Sugu–!”
“If ya can take that, then you can take this.”
And then he’s just smoochin’ your g-spot softly, once– the last bit of niceness you get before simply bruising the tippy-top of his crowned reddish tip against his favorite target. Geto’s accuracy rate is a deadly 100% and it drives you wild, knees knocking against each other as you clench.
“O-oh.” The mere velvety hug of your tight walls enough to have him leaning his upper-body over - dark monks’ robes still half-on and disheveled - till the tufts of curly black hair atop his hilt scratch your spine sensitively. Breath hitching, voice guttural. “Evil girl. Evil-” Headlock tightening, “-evil. You drive me craaaaazy.”
Practically melting.
Geto’s skin was scalding hot and glued to your back, sweat-simmered forehead hitting the crook of your neck, a low trail of saliva gushes out of his mouth and hits your shoulder with a splat! splat! splat!
It’s as if he was out of control, the twitching fringes of his digits rover down to your neglected clit and roll his frigid metal rings on top. “Tell me.”
Hiccuping at both the toying on your delicate nub and the way that your heated pants get lodged in your throat, Geto’s sculptured arms manhandle your airway to constrict. You’re whining, “T-tell you what-”
He gifts the slippery hood of your clit with a slight pinch– tone raspy and hot against the shell of your ear. “Tell me what you want, gorgeous.”
Oh, he had you.
“P-please!” You were done for. And with only a few more vulgar streaks of sloppy precum being poured into your channel, your core aches for more more more. “Want you to cum i-inside, Suguru–”
And you had him just as much. His entire muscular weight sagging on top of yours until your cheek was being firmly pressed into the soft futon, the silken fabrics and ridges of his abs glissading clammily down your arched spine.
He groans in a hoarse drag, “Thaaaat’s more like it. S’better when you beg, gorgeous. Take it-” Every single syllable being punctuated with a solid battering ram, he was simply milking himself on your sweltering hot pussy. “-take it.”
You’re hitting your wave of bliss so suddenly that you don’t even realize until Geto throws his head back with a drawn-out ‘fuh-fuuuuck!’
Every hit after direct hit sending stars twittering in your bleary vision, the pleasure was just so much that it makes your knees weaken and hit the ground. “Please- please please please–”
The chilling coldness of his tongue piercing glides down your maw just in time with the slurping splash of dewy wet cum streaking your cunt. A thick white syrup that glues your pussylips together and makes such a soiling puddle underneath you two, Geto was cumming harder than he had in his entire life.
You’re sucking mindlessly on the very tip of his candied tongue, silver studded piercing flashing inside your heated mouth. “Suguru I–” Mewling at the warmth of the sheen dripping from your outer pussy, your sloppy hole is just gushing at this point. “-it feels so good.”
“Shut up.” Geto hisses through thoroughly bitten teeth, the sound of your pretty voice too much now that he’s tumbling straight into his own high. Leaning over, “Shut up shut up- sh-shut- nghhh–”
And it’s almost as if he’d just remembered his lecherous hold on you, snugly pulling on the headlock until you’re choking cutely on your words.
He’s pushing you down, down, down and stirring his heavy length, all the way from his sagging hilt to the very plump, plum-colored tip. Digging in deep at the very bottom, “Say anythin’ else in that pretty voice and it’s going to make me want to c-cum again, gorgeous.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Mind-BREAK
And it wasn’t just the slick rubber condom that was tearing at the edges – truthfully, it was Choso’s sanity, too.
Because the very moment you’re batting your prettily lashes up at him, mewling to ‘please please’ keep going- well, the half-curse finds his towering body wracking with the rawest, neediest shivers. Panting.
Shaking.
The edges of his pearly whites biting straight down into his bottom lip as his hot, cherry-red tip peeks out of the condom and slips right into your raw cunt. Just bawling in creamy wet droplets of pre, frothing down your quivering pussy.
“R-raw?” Choso’s trembling out, the cutest husky whine cracking at the end of his deep voice. And he’s gnawing down on the inside of his cheek to stop from whining once you nod. “I can really…raw?”
Snuggling him to your heaving chest with a pull at his sweat-matted locks, “Mhm– please, Cho. No need to be shy, I wan’ it all inside.”
“Wh-when you say ‘all’ inside…”
Oh, fuck. Your sweet boyfriend’s cock is so thick that he’s ravaging you from the inside out, swelling n’ bulging a few more lecherous centimeters wider so that that stupid lil’ rubber is torn clean off of him. You’re throwing your head into your soft pillows once you feel his mazing veins scrape-scrape-scraaaaape along your dewy walls, so laaazily.
Choso respires a few unsteady inhales as he’s urgently tugging off the shattered remains of the condom, slender soft tips of his digits then moving to give himself a pinch. Rasping, “S’real-” To give your perky clit a pinch. His eyes widen, “S’real s’real- it’s-”
You’re whining, hips bucking restlessly up where he was stuffing your cunt with rapid, ruined half-ruts. Over and over- like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. “O-of course it’s real, baby.”
Like he couldn’t do anything else.
“No, but- but it’s real-” Choso’s voice breaks as he’s pleading with you, granting your clit one last pinch. “M’going in raw and oh–!” Chestnut lashes flapping helplessly at the slick velvety feeling inside of you, you were hugging his throbbing length so warm, so tightly that he could feel his thighs twitch. “Fuck- I’m gonna fuck you now. Gonna fuck you for real.”
Not even registering that his hips already were pounding into you. He’s slouching over to ram faster, harder.
“Oh, m’already fucking you…”
The stretch so wide that your knees thrash weakly, “Shit- shit, feels so good, Choso– keep going.”
With a stolen peek at your bulging folds, Choso gingerly wraps his long fingers ‘round either side of your squirming hips to keep on pushing forward; even the slightest recoil making him grunt. More.
With a particularly harsh ba-dump–! of his slimy, curvaceous tip probin’ into your cervix, he finds his breath hitching. As if he’d just had an epiphany- “Does that ngh- mean I can do that thing called a….” Boring deep into your eyes, his steamily hot shaft releases a gooey line of precum. Jolting with excitement. “-a creampie, baby?”
Oh.
Oh.
Now that he’d had one taste, he wanted the entire meal. All three courses that made the man salivate at the mere thought.
Your spit-glittered lips droop into the perfect ‘o’ once the words finally sink in, moaning. “Wh-where do you even find this- out- hck! Cho?”
Now, Choso wasn’t experienced, not even close - but even he could feel the way your soppy pussylips were getting so much damper with arousal. Stamping a glistening kiss on his hilt that he wishes he could tattoo- “Read about it- online- and I–”
He’s breaking off with a fucked-out groan at the beaded droplets of moisture seeping from your entrance, pouring out with a splat! after every punctuating thrust.
And Choso doesn’t even realize how he’s moving - doesn’t even register the fact that he’s gripping your boneless legs and throwing them on his shoulders until you sob. Heels digging into his flexed deltoids, front meeting his tense abs, pushed into such a filthy mating press.
“-and I think m’gonna fucking die if I don’t fill up this pretty pussy, baby.”
“O-oh, fuck!” You’re shrilling through your clenched teeth every time he’s arching his muscular back to strike your g-spot precisely, filling your nooks and orifices with a clingy second skin of sap.
Choso fucks you straight through the mattress of your bed like he yearns for you - sloppy, sensual drags of his painfully-hard cock. “You wanna hngh! cum inside?”
“Please- please.” He’s gasping, strawberry divot leaking from the end of his long length with every vulgar stroke. “I want it. Need it- d-don’t know if I’ll be able to last with this cute cunt so raw n’ wet and raw.”
His parched Adam’s apple bobs carnally once you slide your greedy palms all over his luscious pecs, tuggin’ on those rose-pink nipples till he shivers. Down, down, down.
And he’s just too pretty with his eyes glazed-over with tears, gaze fiery through the cracks in his bangs. You just can’t help but waft your hands over each of his eight rippling abs and tease- “Tell me- how badly?”
Cutely pathetic wobbles taking over his rosy lips, “Badly- badly. Please, I’ll beg-” Choso’s beefy arms grip onto your hips stronger until you’re halfway through being lifted clean off the rickety bedsprings. You’ve ruined him- fuck, you’ve ruined him. A primally desperate expression taking over his features, “M’begging, please let me c-cum inside. Promise I’ll make you feel eeeeevery single inch- eeeeevery single- drop.”
Blinking, “Every?”
“Every.” And Choso’s just about ready to open his dry mouth and plead some more, to fuck the answer out of you. That is- before the hands that’d been tracing his dark happy trail end up slithering downwards, just barely reaching over to caress his rounded pink ballsack. “Ev- oh.”
To make him cum and cum harder than he ever has in his entire life.
When it rains, it pours - and Choso was simply flooding your poor, snug core with messy topping upon topping of white, syrupy seed. So much of it splashing against the circular bruises he’d made at the back of your pussy and rapidly overfilling you from the inside.
You can feel your warmly fuzzy mind sparking something primal with every spurt stuffed inside of you- and he wasn’t just pushing it inside, he was battering you with it.
Quick, aggressive spanks of his toned v-line into the underside of your thighs. He puffs out in a sweltering cloud of breath, eyeliner smudged through tears. “Fuh-fuck! Fuck fuck fuck- so this is a c-creampie? S’this how m’supposed to hngh- fill your pussy up, baby?”
Dolloping out a milky wad of cum that’d webbed around his bulky base, he’s coating his thumb in all of those juices and drawin’ a cute heart on top of your clit. Pressing down hard to make you cry out oh-so-prettily–
“Mhmm– you’re pussydrunk, Cho.” You’re managing to giggle out, fingers brushing away a stray strand of brown that’d plastered onto his sweat-glossed forehead.
Fingers that your boyfriend catches between his honed canines and bites. Hard.
Left hand angrily fisting the drenched hilt of his cock, palm smearing with a buzzing layer of Blood Manipulation. Of power that forces his weepy tip to pulse and harden– again. Again. “Oh, you’re about to see ‘pussydrunk’, baby.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - The big
“-two—three–hck!” You’re keening at the humidly burning stretch of your arched spine, bleary eyes falling over your shoulder and behind to where you were riding the great King of Curses in reverse. Well, more like splitting your poor pussy open–
Been like this for so, so long - a marathon. You could already feel the glittery ringlet of cum from rounds prior sinfully tickling your wide entrance, splosh! goes that cute tummy bulge he was fucking into you.
Flapping your tear-stained eyelashes, your voice cracks as you slip yourself down yet another one of his thick, barreling dual inches. So sensitive. “-f-four?”
“Keh- nice try.” Sukuna claws one of his four palms across your hips, using just the tiniest bit of his strength to draaaaag you down his copious, throbbing lengths. So much of him filling you up that it makes your head dizzy, “But no, mama, you’re eight inches in.”
Eight- eight?
Oh, the mere notion is enough for you to weaken your knees and let two of his monstrously massive palms take control.
Giving your right ass cheek a rude spank, “And only…” A third of his big, beefy arms measuring out the remaining girths that were puffy and aching to be stuffed inside of you. “-almost halfway more to go.”
“H-half- oh!”
Before that sentence has even registered in your mind, he’s tapping your trembly thighs open and giving a thorough slam that pries your gluey walls oh-so-apart. All but making you scream–
“Shush now- and let this pretty pussy be the one talking.” Sukuna licks his lips with a thin layer of spittle at the way you’re sucking him up ravenously. Every slap of his probin’ crownhead inside beading a few dewy droplets of precum that pour out with a sluuuurp. “What’s that? What’s that?”
Your moans are halfway through flooding your mouth before you realize that he isn’t even speaking to you.
No- no, he’s drifting his beady crimson eyes down to coo at your bulging pussylips. Bouncin’ your lecherous hips in swerving motions, he leans in even closer to listen to her.
“Ohhh, sloppy girl–” Sukuna puffs out through sweltering, stilted breaths. And you’re flinching at the dampened sliiiide of something wet and hot slithering between your swollen folds. Trawling a saturated layer of spittle with his damn cursed mouth, making a mess of the syrupy white seed leaking out. “-you want more, huh? I dunnoooo, better ask the missus.”
More.
More more more.
You were so full to your filthy brim that every minute movement made the knotted wads of cum inside of you splash.
Thighs trembling as you’re riding out a shallow, sensual pace, “M-more? What do you mean- ngh-”
Smack! goes the way that the king plants down yet another hefty slap, all of his fleshy fingertips branding permanently on your heated skin. “You know what I mean, lil’ human.” Sukuna’s so monstrously big that the slightest buck of his muscular thighs makes your driveling cunt sound out a squelch! “She wants ta be stuffed even more. Heh- greedy.”
“W-will it even fit, Kuna–?”
“Awww- see? I tried, girl.” Turning back to your lil’ stuffed pussy, you’re watching from the front as he puckers his lips in faux sympathy.
So filthy with his rummaging cocks that every hammering thrust makes him slide against the other, the zig-zagging lines of his veins massaging your sweet spots just right. Pullin’ apart your sappy cunt until you were just struggling to keep up the sheer stretch.
He’s soaking out a bucketload of buttery pre that sparked more of those noises he loved so much. “S’that so? Want me to ask again? Wan’ it haaa– that bad, huh?” Turning back to you, the underside of Sukuna’s cursed tongue flattens to roam over like a tendril, giving your clit a spank. “Begging- s’that what you want? The king to beg?”
And oh. Oh- if any one of his cursed subjects could overhear the king right now then they would have fainted
Jaw dropped, hips faltering, eyelids fluttering to try and dredge up some ounce of your rationality. “B-beg?”
“Mhm—” And, well, part of Sukuna thought it’d be a joke, part of Sukuna was so pussydrunk that he was just babbling. Slithering his sizzling tastebuds all over your sheeny inner-thighs, spearheading you with his bulbous tips until he’s swiping all the way on your cervix. Twice. “C’mon, girl. M’begging- begging here to cum inside, kissin’ your feet and all.”
The mouth slashed across his sculptured front titters, lightly craning over to plant a few smooches all over your ankles. He hums, “See? See? M’begging- c’mon, girl, milk me dry- milk the king dry. Look at how you’ve got me.”
And your hips - oh, your birthing hips are so good that it has his crown scalp overheating, fuzzy every time the globes of your ass jiggle sensually down onto his tattooed hips.
Hitting, hitting, hitting.
Until your flesh is stinging and raw, heavy spitballs falling out from your mouth - enough to make your words incoherent. “Th-then please.” A hot stream of tears hitting your cheeks, “Please.”
“P-please.”
And that last beg wasn’t one from your parched lips - it was one from his. Ryomen Sukuna unfastening his sharp jaw to let his trembling baritone crack with what sounds like a whimper once you’re hitting your high.
And then he cums.
With both matchingly rock-hard ends of his shafts, the ridges of his tip catch on your softest spot and drench it in silvery bouts of syrupy white seed. Pumping and pumping you full until he can trek a hand up to about halfway down your tummy and pat the lil’ cylindrical outline.
You’re thrashing at the zaps of pleasure that blur your vision, “It’s s-shoooo full–! Hck! It’s so full, Kuna–”
“How cuuuute–.” His whispers make shivers run down your spine, curling a hand ‘round your throat so that he can gnaw his gnarly canines down your throat.
The split-ended edges of his tongue slip along the slimy ribbons of cum that trickle out of your creamy pussy. Lapping up every inch of you, “She’s happy heh- look at her.”
Until a carnal scratch along your slippery slit makes your wet pussy squeeeelch, “O-oh, she’s saying–” You’re craning your head to meet Sukuna’s half-lidded, glowing eyes and oh- oh, you were fucked. Because Ryomen Sukuna whimpers, “-she wants more…”
♡ INO TAKUMA - 1st.
“First-” Departs Ino’s gruff whine, panted right into the crook of your neck while he squeezes you to his toned front. “M-my first time- is this really real? Really reeeally real?”
A pretty smile tugs on your spit-slicked lips, enough to make Ino want to cum right then and there. “Of course- why, baby?”
“B-because it doesn’t feel real, pretty.” Comes his sultry, low-toned answer, wrinkling his nose and grunting at the squelching slip n’ slide of your oversaturated folds down his reddened cock. You’re biting down on the plush of your lower lip when his puffy veins scratch your outer pussy sensually. “Can’t believe m’going to- to…”
Ino’s so drunk on your sweet, sweet pussy that he’s already run out of words.
The tawny strands of his bangs covering his eyes, his heart-shaped pupils are fully starstruck once he pushes the pointed globe of his cockhead into your hole.
Breath hiccuping. Panting.
Throat ripping with a cracked whimper as he’s easing in, “Can’t believe that you f-feel so good and-” Dizzy pupil locked on the way he’s pushing your bloated lips so far apart- Ino’s so damn thick that just the simplest few inches is enough to make your knees weak. “-a-and fuuuuck…m’not gonna last.”
Not a few more minutes, not even for a few more breaths. Just one squelching touch and he’s finding himself gone already.
Ino’s further spreading his capped knees on the bed to rut and rut and rut like he’s trying to milk himself stupid. Slicked, glistening stripes of pre dripping down either side of your heated thigh, he’s making such a mess.
“Aww— you wanna ngh- cum inside, Taku–?” You’re coaxing through his mindless pace, pushing with the left-leaning angle of his fat length like he was addicted.
And he was- oh, he was addicted. So, so addicted that just the mere idea - just hearing those words fall from your puckered lips - was enough for him to want to cum right then and there.
Gnawing on his plump, cherry-pink bottom lip, “Yes- yes, please.” He’s breathing out, soft panting gasps hitting your face like a scorching breeze. And his fuzzy happy trail is making your clit rub raaaw once he starts glissading even deeper inside. “C-can I cum inside, sweetness?”
“Hmm–” You’re pretending to think whilst he patiently waits, “I dunno—”
And you watch as he stalls, you watch as he falters. You watch that dopey, ruined smile plastered all over his face sag ever-so-slightly, that strawberry orifice weeping from the end of his cock pulsing angrily in response. That is- until you’re plowing on teasingly, “How badly do you want it, baby?”
Oh, and Ino can only think to go harder- a chance, you’re really giving him a chance.
Drilling his slick-lustred girth into you faster, rougher- he’s gritting his teeth and pounding all his voluminous, plumpened inches inside like a madman. “Badly- so, so badly–” Words coming out a throaty croon, he’s almost yelping from the back of his throat at the raw sting of slamming flesh.
“Hmm- now where are those manners?”
“P-please. Please, pretty? Please let me ngh! cum inside? I’ll do anything.”
“Anything–?”
“Anything.” Ino nods and nods, tumbling over his unsteady fingers to wrap ‘round your perked, swollen clit like he’d read online. “I’ll do anything.”
And what he said - he meant.
He’s scouring his bloated cockhead till you feel him dig a deep crater into your g-spot, a rounded bruise the exact size of his thick circumference. Ino might be the sweetest, but his jackhammering tempo certainly wasn’t. “Anything- I-I’ll clean up after and take care of you and kiss you to sleep and…”
Mouth flooding with a glinting few droplets of saliva, falling into the perfect oh! once he’s locking his eyes with your syrupy cunt once again. How pretty.
Grinning, “-and marry you.”
And he barely even hears it - that tiny, mewling ‘i-inside!’ that you’re letting off before Ino’s cottony eardrums pop! and he’s suddenly all but bursting inside of you.
Straight streaks of cum that clog your cunt sweetly from the inside out, you throw your head back at the noisy squeeelch–! that thunders out from between your soppy pussylips. Ino’s ropy liquid showering your hole in white and trickling out in a lil’ puddle.
“S-so good.” You huff out, thighs sticking to each other with the glue-like texture of his seed.
He’s finding himself hypnotized by the slicked mess, by how ruined you look. And it’s a sight so heavenly that Ino’s barely out of the woods of his waves of euphoria - hazel eyes teary, thighs still twitching, the mushroomed ridge of his length coating with even more layers of splashing cum as soon as he’s hastily pulling out.
“S-said I’d do anything, pretty.” He mutters, now positioned near the end of your dampened bed where he’s pushing himself deeply into your puffed-up pussylips.
One hand bullying your jittery thighs open, the other wrapping around his bulked hilt and seeping reverse cursed energy through his skin.
More, he needed more. And he’s making himself harder—
And Ino always did look so pretty - but right now? With his brown hair unruly, eyes sleepy, delicate mouth glossed in a thick coating of liquid that drips all the way from his upper lip to his chin? You think he’s never looked more beautiful.
Swollen lips latching ‘round your tender clit, you’re seeing literal stars as he sucks on that ravaged lil’ nub like his favorite gummy candy, licking off that salty ivory topping. “N’ first up was haaaah- cleaning you up.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - The addicted
“Aww, look at you, sweetheart- just look at you.” Gojo’s raw, ruined voicebox huffs out, biting down on his plump lower lip that just won’t stop grinning pussydrunkenly. “You want me to cum inside you soooo bad.”
You’re huffing out between every pointed thrust he’s easing inside you from behind, prying apart your glue-topped pussylips with a squelch. “A-as if, don’t think you’re ngh! off the hook already, Satoru.”
And that really would’ve been more effective if your sloppy cunt wasn’t just slobbering out ropey wads of sap with every passing second. Gojo’s thick, barreling cock so swollen that every brush of his candy-red tip leaves you gasping.
It almost makes you forget that you were really supposed to give your husband an earful for skiving off of yet another jujutsu meeting. But that was so goddamn hard when he was fucking you like this.
“But you called me ‘Satoru’—” He’s humming in your ear, words dipping into such a whiny territory. With a stinging spank of his vibrating, cursed energy-capped fingertips on your clit he has you arching into him.
Tilting his head with such a cocky, cocky grin. “See? See–?” Gojo hoists his muscular leg up until the plane of his foot rests upon your head, rudely. “Don’t lie- You want the strongest to cum in you, don’tcha?”
Forced to bite down on the mushy innards of your cheek to keep yourself from fucking screaming - or worse, completely and utterly agreeing with him. Instead, you’re only perking your hips up minutely so that his rummaging pounds can probe an even deeper bruising circle on your cervix.
Hard.
Desperate.
So, of course Gojo Satoru and his blazing Six Eyes will notice.
Of course, he’ll crack out a low snicker as he abuses that special power to stir his fleshy cockhead around and around, giving your g-spot a good whack.
“Oh you do—” He’s crooning out from behind you, tone scratchy, octaves higher. And the inkling of something so raw and dark seeped into his tone is enough to make you whimper. “-you do you do you do.”
“Fuh-fuck–!” Thighs clenching as he swats them upright and arches you into some of the most vicious thrusts. Bottomed out, drenched all the way to his bloated hilt, and yet he was still pushing and pushing to fit further inside.
He needed you - wanted you to be so full of him you couldn’t even think. The tight curvature of his fattened balls kneading into the base of your wet cunt, “Tell me you want it- tell me.”
“N-not until you start attending your meetings- ngh!”
“Ohhh I love a mouthy girl.” He titters, flexible body bending until he’s so sinfully close to your ear. Gojo’s melding you deeper into the mattress with every second, every jackhammer, every squeeze of his foot bullying on top of your head and making all the blood in your body rush up there, dizzyingly.
With a precisely-planned knock-knock-knock on your soft womb, he’s rutting his toned v-line into you like he was going craaaazy. Plum-shaped crown of his cock squirting out just a warning few ribbons of sappy precum— “But I’d prefer if that mouth was used for haaaa- something else, my girl. How are you gonna have this hngh- biiig fuckin’ cock inside you and not want me to fill ya up, huh?”
Pushed so deeply into the puffy silken cover of your pillows that your next words are incoherent–
“Louder.” Usually-melodic voice now stern, almost feral. His sapphire blue eyes were bolting with flecks of lightning.
Again- and again your words are nothing but blubbers of moans and syrupy saliva that just kept on flooding from your mouth with sheer bliss. Dangling from your lips, “I- ngh- Toru–”
“Louder.”
And then finally - finally - Gojo’s easing the pressure of his foot just enough to make your agape maw lift off the bed with a muggy pwah! Moaning into the steaming hot puddle of drool that you’d collected, “Don’t make me- ngh…s-sex- ban-”
It’s barely audible, barely understandable.
But to the strongest, it’s as if his entire body is just rattling at the sudden sentence. Jujutsu powers snapping out of control until he suddenly had you laid out on your back against the bedsprings; thighs on his buff shoulders, cock nuzzling your g-spot in split-seconds.
Teleporting the two of you into a mating press.
Gojo reels until he’s just bucking savagely into you, cadence feverish - frenzied. Not even fully slamming from the pre-capped fringe of his tip anymore, just half-thrusts that have you wailing shrilly.
“No-” He’s hissing at the clenching feeling of your cozy walls, pressing the curves of his prominent veins just right against your g-spot. He didn’t even need to use Six Eyes anymore, he was mapping out and filling every single nook and cranny of you. “No no no no- no- it was a joke- a joke, see?”
A nervous bout of lilted laughter bursts out in a puff against your face, and glossy strings of drool just spill from his swollen lips.
Soft, they’re kissing n’ kissing you until you’re dazed. “A j-joke, huh?”
“Yes- please. Please let me- haaaa- inside.”
And you’re swearing that his harshly pillaging girth pulses even fatter n’ harder after those next words escape your mouth. “I- hck! Fine- inside. Want it mmm– inside, Toru.”
“O-oh.”
And then he’s gasping, he’s shivering.
Sculptured body collapsing into yours until you’re feeling every massaging push of his firm pecs, his washboard abs. Pace so hard that you’re pushed further and further up the headboard with only the recoil of his cock bashing into your sweetest spots.
But Gojo doesn’t see it that way - Gojo can’t think of anything at all other than the fact that your cute dripping cunt might be running from him and he just can’t have that.
“Come back, sweetheart-” He’s hiccuping, mindlessly activating a few tendrils of cursed energy that keep you in place. “Come back come back come back so that I can- hck! can…”
Gojo doesn’t even have the privilege of finishing his sentence before he’s doing what he’s been yearning to do for so long.
Pumping your hot pussy full with thick, ropey wads of cum that glue your plush walls together from side to side. And it feels so heavenly to finally reach his finish line inside you, whimpering at the lecherously sticky slosh of drooling sap he’s rummaging with each thrust.
Pearly whites sinking into his trembling lower lip, “Nghhhh- yeah that’s it, my girl. Look at me fucking you, that’s it- take it all.”
Making such a mess - making you so dumb on his cock. Gojo mutters to himself dazedly over the slurps and moans you’re letting off- thick n’ raspy. He counts down, “Three…two…” Before dragging his energy-coated thumb once over your clit, “-one!”
And it wasn’t just his Six Eyes that told him you were cumming - it was your pretty pussy.
Completely shattered, your pillowy insides are clamping down on him so hard that he’s rutting against it and fighting to plunge his sagging cock deeper into your slippery channel. Head throwing, eyes crashing with tears at the sheer bliss- “Toru- Toru!”
“Yeah- I got you, sweetheart, your Toru’s got you.” Gojo wheezes out, and he doesn’t know what he loves more - you, or you when he’s fucking his fat webs of cum inside you.
Frothing out a creamy white coating from your leaky entrance, so thick that he’s swabbing his thumb down your slit to clear up the mess. Voice shattering with something that sounds like the last remnants of his sanity, “O-one down.” He looks from his proud creampie to your face, gifting you with a big battering ram. Chuckling, “Five more to go.”
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - OVERTIME
Higuruma was late.
He was so, so late for work— but did that really matter when he had you - his gorgeous wife - sprawled all over the living room couch, so pretty and fucked-out while he pounded away into you like a madman for the nth time this morning?
This was heaven.
Well- it would be heaven if he wasn’t so damn late-
“Sugar- angel-” Higuruma’s pants through clenched teeth, seething every time he swivels his aching, red-hot tip into your mushiest crevices. Unable to make himself stop. “-my wife.”
You’re finding your swollen folds fluttering at the gravelly tonality of his voice; your sensible, hard-working husband reduced to this. And the thought is enough to make you smile, “Mhmm– m’here, Hiromi.”
Hell, you n’ that sweet pussy of yours was so addictive that he half-wished you weren’t.
Well, not really- never really. And Higuruma’s loosening his dark tie with a heady tut- “Look at how you’ve r-ruined me.” Almost incredulous, he can’t help but lock his eyes down on the soppy, dampening patch of sap that was starting to formulate on his formal pants.
Disheveled, suit jacket slacking off whilst he slouches his shoulder muscles over and gives your cervix a few more sensual slams. Milking himself. Milking you.
Darkly muttering, “This one’s the last one before I g-go to work. Just a quickie, angel- just a quickie before I oh-” Shit, he can’t even finish that sentence before feeling his tightened balls flinch at your gushing clench.
“You said that hah! last time, too-”
“Well, this time I mean it.” And if you didn’t know any better then you’d be swearing that Higuruma’s pale pink lips were pulling into a pout, dark eyes narrowing down at you. “This time I r-really mean it–” He utters as he’s rovering two roughened palms underneath your thighs to throw them over his shoulders.
The crowned globe of his curvaceous tip scratching a carnal itch at your cervix as he’s leaning his hips in and bending. Down, down, down until both you and the aged couch are singing with delight, “-I really- really…”
But one look - just one, proper look at you all bent into this mindless mating press, leaking a creamy frosting of cum from between your legs - and Higuruma is done for.
Larynx ripping with a hoarse groan like he already knew he lost, he’s drawling out. Syllables slurring together as if he was drunk, “Sugar…”
“Yeeess, Hiromi?”
Dazed already. “Have I ever told you how much I ngh- love you?” Higuruma’s sharp nosebridge crinkles at the very top when he snarls. You’re squealing once his thick office button-up starts rubbin’ on your hardened nipples, “How much I love- her.”
And by her, who else could it be?
You’re whimpering, back arching off of the perspiration stain you’d created on the cushion once he’s snaking his left hand to your clit and toying. Rolling over the cold, mean edge of his wedding ring right where you were the most sensitive- Higuruma only watches and watches as that makes you pour out hefty bucketloads of cum.
Bobbing Adam’s apple parched, not only does he gaze - he stares. Hypnotized. “Th-think my wife needs to be ngh- filled up, actually.”
“M-more?” Your voice crackles out, eyes widening at the already-lecherous feeling of him increasing his sloppy strokes until your snug channel feels bloated. Stretching and stretching.
“More.”
A bead of sweat drips from the side of his dark, slicked-back hair and hits your chest with a striking splat! Precisely in unison with when he’s whacking into your g-spot so hard you’re seeing white pop up in your vision. Growling, “M’serious- r-really wanna cum inside.”
And he wasn’t just fucking you mean, he was leaving your clit all bruised n’ extra swollen, too.
“No- really need to cum inside.” Clearing his throat ever-so-slightly, Higuruma’s dewy raven eyes gaze upon you through his long lashes. So sexy like this that you’re feeling your mouth water with your answer already, “C-can I? Please- please, can I?”
Oh. You just made stern, stoic Higuruma beg.
And now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop.
Harder and harder.
Rumbling baritone already fraying at the edges- he’s growing more n’ more feverish with each disturbed dollop of cum that sprayed out of you. “Look at h-her- oh, just look at her.” Blinking his heavy lids furiously to clear out some semblance of his vision, “Fuck the time- fuck work, she’s mine.”
You’re rutting your hips to meet his, a splatter of saliva growing from your mouth due to his sheer dumbifying pace. “Yours- p-please- yours-”
“And I’m yours-” Higuruma gasps- as if anything else would be wrong. Nosing down the line of your throat, your essence was so addictive that he could almost taste it. Faster. Harder. “So how could I n-not cum inside my pretty lil’ wife? And if we get a cute kid nine months later then…”
Milking himself on you, ruining himself. He was already so sensitive that only a few slicked glissades across your cunt make his half-lidded eyes tear up - and fuck- you weren’t any more stable.
“-even better.”
Because the moment those words waft from Higuruma’s plump lips, you’re cumming. Crashing into your high headfirst, you don’t even realize it when those tingly buzzes of pleasure had turned into a pure torrential wave.
Squirting- oh.
You were really making sure that Higuruma’s office suit was unwearable right now, because those splattering streams of sap paint his formalwear see-through. Raining down, dripping pearly beads of moisture up n’ down every ridge of his abs.
Flinching, he gifts you with pump after pump that spikes the sensations of your orgasm and makes you arch. So good. “O-oh my god– oh my god, angel.”
Mouthing out through your spittle-glued lips - the only thing that Higuruma can see right about now - ‘cum inside.’
And that’s all it takes- all it takes for your poor husband to lose his damn mind.
Higuruma feels his throat go raspy with moans upon moans of your name, babbling away. “Th-thank you-” His breath hitches at the thumping impact of every wire of seed trickling down to your cervix, the recoil of each single thwack! of webbed mass splattering in a recoil back to his capped tip. “Thank you thank you- thank you, sugar, for taking it all.”
Your greedy pussy so parched that you were practically slurping it all past your puffy entrance, every. single. drop.
It’s so filthy - your dribbling cunt is so filthy.
And Higuruma’s fucking blushing a bright, maidenly pink from the tips of his ears as he runs his left hand over the bubbling sheen of white escaping your quivering hole. Right hand reaching for that hastily-discarded phone of his-
“H-hello?” The partially-steady words startle you only a few sultry seconds later, “Yeah this is Higuruma- I’d like to call off today. My wife is…” And your husband chokes your shocked gasp with a fat thrust of his wettened, vein-decorated cock. Throbbing inside your squelching cunt for more, “-sick.”
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ft. gojo. toji. sukuna. nanami. geto. smacking. hair
pulling. teasing to degration. overstimulation. rough sex.
g. satoru ۫ ꣑ৎ .
“nghh- oh fuck- looook at youu-” he groans voice slurring with pleasure, his hips snapping hard, each thrust making your tits bounce, your moans loud and desperate.
“takin’ this big dick so- mmph- so goddamn well, baby.” his hands grip your thighs spreading you wide, and he leans down, lips brushing your ear, breath hot and teasing.
“cant think straight right now, huh? just a drooling mess for this fuckin' cock.”
“satoru- ngh-” you gasp voice breaking as he hits deep, your pussy clenching around him, slick dripping onto the sheets.
you’re trying to keep up, to match his energy, but hes relentless fucking you so hard your brains turning to mush, his words hitting as hard as his thrusts.
“too- fuck- too much-” you whimper hands clawing at his shoulders, but he laughs, all bright and unhinged, like hes loving every second of your meltdown.
“too much? bullshit- you love it.” he teases voice dripping with that cocky edge that drives you insane.
“this greedy little pussy’s suckin’ me in, beggin’ for more.” he thrusts harder, the bedframe rattling, and you cry out, overwhelmed, your nails digging into his back.
“cmon, baby- fuck- tell me how good it is” he demands, his tone playful, his dick dragging against your walls in a way thats pure torture.
“good- so good-” you moan barely coherent, and his grin widens, his thrusts growing sloppy as he chases his own high.
“thats it- nghh- scream it, let the city hear-” he groans, and you’re done for, your orgasm crashing through you, a sharp wave that has you screaming his name, pussy clamping down hard.
he follows, spilling deep inside, his voice a broken, “fuck- baby- so perfect...” as he rides it out.
k. nanami ۫ ꣑ৎ .
“so perfect for me my love..” he groans, his hips snap against yours, relentless, the bed creaking under his weight, his cock fills you completely, stretching you, the wet slap of skin echoing as he drives deeper.
“taking me so well, love, you were made for this.”
“kento- fuck- its-” you gasp voice trembling, hands gripping his shoulders, feeling the muscle flex under your fingers.
you’re a mess, thighs shaking, pussy clenching tight, but his words keep you grounded, even as they push you closer to the edge.
“too- ngh- too deep-” you whimper and he leans down, lips brushing your jaw, his breath hot and steady.
“too deep?” he murmurs, voice soft but edged with that quiet dominance that makes you melt.
“you can take it, love- fuck- you’re doing so well.” he thrusts harder, his hand sliding to your clit rubbing firm circles that make you moan, loud and broken.
“tell me- tell me how it feels,” he says his tone a command wrapped in care, his eyes locked on yours, drinking in every twitch of your face.
“feels- so good- kento-” you choke out and he groans, low and raw, his rhythm faltering as your pussy flutters around him.
“please- dont stop-” you beg, and his voice cracks, a rare slip in his control.
“not planning to.” he growl and hes fucking you harder, the intensity building until you come, a shuddering wave that has you crying his name, pussy squeezing him tight. .
t. fushiguro ۫ ꣑ৎ .
his hands are everywhere, gripping your ass, pulling your hair, claiming every fucking inch of you.
“fuck- look at this ass-” he grunts, his hips pounding against you, each thrust so deep it knocks the air from your lungs, his dick is thick, stretching you wide, the wet slap against your clit making you shudder.
“takin’ my cock so fuckin’ good.” he says smacking your ass hard, the sting making you moan, loud and needy.
“toji- shit- too much-” you gasp voice breaking, hands braced on the table, wood creaking under the force of his thrusts.
you’re soaked pussy clenching tight, but hes relentless, fucking you so hard your brain’s gone fuzzy, his words hitting like sparks.
“slow- ngh- slow down-” you whimper but he laughs, low and mean, his grip tightening on your hips.
“slow down? nah- you can handle it.” he growls pulling you back onto his cock, harder and deeper like hes testing your limits.
“this pussy is beggin’ for it, so fuckin’ wet.” he thrusts again, brutal, and you cry out, overwhelmed, your nails scraping the table.
“cmon, doll- tell me you love this dick.” he demands voice rough, his hand yanking your hair to make you look back at him, his smirk all smug and hungry.
“love it- fuck- love your dick-” you moan barely coherent, and his laugh is triumphant, his thrusts growing sloppier, needier.
“thats it- scream it, let ‘em hear-” he grunts and you come, a sharp, shuddering wave that has you gasping, pussy clamping down as he fucks you through it, coming with a loud, “fuck-” spilling deep inside.
g. suguru ۫ ꣑ৎ .
“so beautiful- fuck- look at you..” he murmurs, his hips rolling slow, each thrust dragging against your walls, making you feel every inch of his dick.
his hands trace your body reverent but possessive, and he leans down, lips brushing your ear.
“you’re- so perfect like this, all mine, aren’t you?”
you gasp, hands gripping his shoulders, feeling the lean muscle under his robes.
you’re a mess, pussy dripping, thighs shaking, but his words are your undoing, soft and commanding, making you want to please him.
“too- fuck- too good-” you whimper, and he smiles, all warm and predatory, thrusting deeper, his cock hitting that spot that makes you see stars.
“too good? oh- you can take more.” he coos voice dripping with that manipulative charm, his hand sliding to your clit, rubbing slow circles that make you moan, loud and broken.
“tell me- tell me you’re mine.” he says his tone sweet but demanding, his eyes locked on yours, dark and consuming.
“yours- suguru- im yours-” you choke out and he groans, his thrusts picking up, still controlled but hungrier.
“thats it- nghh- my perfect girl, giving yourself to me.” he murmurs and you come, a shuddering wave that has you crying his name, pussy squeezing him tight.
s. ryomen ۫ ꣑ৎ .
“pathetic little thing- fuck- look at you.” he snarls, slamming into you, his dick so big its almost painful, stretching you beyond your limits.
his nails dig into your hip and he chuckles, low and cruel, as you moan, loud and desperate.
“cryin’ on my cock- and you’re still so fuckin’ wet.”
“sukuna- fuck-” you gasp voice breaking, hands scrabbling at his shoulders, feeling the hard muscle under his skin.
you’re soaked, pussy clenching tight, but hes merciless, fucking you so hard your brain’s shutting down, his words a blade cutting through your haze.
“please- ngh- slower-” you whimper but he scoffs, thrusting harder, the wet slap against your ass echoing in the chamber.
“slower? hah- fuck- dont even beg,” he growls voice dripping with sadistic glee, his hand yanking your hair to make you look at him, his eyes burning.
“this pussy is mine to ruin, and you’ll take it.” he thrusts deeper and you scream, overwhelmed, your nails clawing at him.
Sukuna’s car has always been untouchable—immaculate, brutal, fast. The kind of machine that mirrors him: sharp edges, no softness, no room for anyone else.
Until you.
Now there’s lip gloss in the cupholder and a scrunchie looped around his gear shift like some kind of silk flag staked in his territory. You started leaving little things behind, quietly, like you were planting evidence. Gum wrappers, a clip from your hair, even your iced coffee straw one day—left right in the side door pocket.
You expected him to toss it all back at you. Maybe with a grunt. Maybe with an eye roll and a muttered “keep your shit out of my car.”
But he didn’t.
He kept them there. Because you and Sukuna… you weren’t dating. No one had asked. There was no talk, no label. Just a long night that turned into a few more, then a pattern.
You, on the other hand, are more strategic. Conniving, even.
You don’t ask to be his girl. You don’t cling. You just leave marks. Subtle things. Things a hookup wouldn’t ever have time to leave behind. So that maybe—just maybe—if someone else ever got in the passenger seat, they’d know instantly: they’re not the first, and they’re definitely not the only one who rides here.
But no one else has. Sukuna hasn’t touched another girl since the first night he had you spread out across his sheets—back arched, lips parted, absolutely wrecked from round four. You were limp and glowing in the aftermath, falling asleep on his chest like you belonged there. And maybe you did.
He hadn’t cared to look at anyone else since.
That car used to be built for speed, for control, for the kind of thrill that made his blood rush. It was never about comfort.
But now? It’s starting to literally feel like a second bedroom. Like an extension of you—your perfume clinging to the seatbelt, a receipt from your favorite café crumpled in the passenger door, your earrings slipped into the little tray under the dash.
The backseat holds the imprint of your body, the curve of your hips pressed into the leather, a reminder of all the times he’s fucked you in his car—your legs spread wide as he drove you to the edge with each brutal, deep thrust.
Even the front, where your hand wraps around his arm as his fingers make you come undone, hitting a spot that drives you wild in ways only he knows, still carries the unmistakable mark that this seat—this car—belongs to someone else.
So when Sukuna rolls into the garage late one night—hair still damp from a shower, muscles loose from hours tangled up inside you, still half hard just remembering how you moaned his name—his fellow mechanics clock it instantly.
“Yo,” Mahito says, glancing up from under the hood of a stripped RX-7. “You have a girlfriend or somethin’? Your car smells like vanilla.”
Sukuna just grunts, shoving his keys in his pocket.
He leans against the hood, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he’s not thinking about you sleeping in his bed right now, curled up under his sheets in that oversized tee you always steal from him.
They take his silence as confirmation.
“You hear that, Suguru?” Mahito continues to instigate, smirking. “Sukuna’s got gloss on the gearshift.”
Suguru raises a brow from where he’s cataloging parts. “Damn. Didn’t think anyone could turn Sukuna into a personal Uber.”
That earns a laugh from the group. Sukuna doesn’t say anything, just lazily flicks his middle finger their way. But he doesn't deny it either.
“No wonder you leave work early so often,” another mechanic mutters, elbowing Uraume. “He used to hang around, talk engines, grab beers.”
They shrug. “Guess he’s got better company these days.”
Sukuna barely hears his coworkers gossip over the echo of your moans still ringing in his head. Because they’re not wrong—he has been slipping out early, ditching post-race drinks just to pick you up from work. Just to get you back in his car, where your legs fold up sweet and tight in the passenger seat and your hand always finds his without a word.
It’s routine now—his hand on your thigh the second the engine starts. He doesn’t even think about it. Just needs it. Needs the feel of you under his fingers, to squeeze the thighs he’s bruised a dozen times with his mouth.
And when you finally fall asleep, innocent and warm, lips parted just slightly?
He drives slower than he ever has in his life. Because the longer he keeps you next to him like this, the longer he gets to pretend you’re already his girl.
And he knows—he knows—you’re testing him with the things you leave behind. Waiting to see if he’ll clean them out. Waiting to see if he’ll hand you your lip gloss and tell you to stop marking your territory.
But he won’t.
Not when the vanilla scent lingers in the air. Not when the other mechanics glance at the cupholder and trade knowing looks because even they can see it—
summary: after you break up with your boyfriend, you begin receiving ominous messages from a burner account that seems to know too much.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
NOBODY IS AFRAID of Satoru Gojo until it is too late.
It’s a shame really—they should be, but they aren’t because he appears too harmless to be anything more than a cute campus nerd. As if a sweater vest, a soft voice, and a perfect 4.0 GPA are enough to make someone safe.
Oh, how wrong they are. Pretty boys, just like everything else on this planet, are capable of being rotten.
Unfortunately though, he is the kind of student professors adore because he answers questions that no one dares to. Girls whisper about him in the back of lecture halls, gossiping over the way he sits with one ankle crossed over his knee, long deft fingers curled around a mechanical pencil, captivating blue eyes half-lidded behind thin silver frames like he’s bored by the entire world and still better at it than everyone else.
Double majoring in both computer science and mathematics. Exceptionally gifted with an IQ of 173. A genius according to the Wechsler scale, an academic weapon in every sense. He ruins the curves in all of his classes and corrects tenured professors so gently that they thank him afterward.
People like that about him—the intelligence and arrogance that somehow becomes charming when it comes wrapped in snowy white hair and a sweet smile.
Sure, they also think he’s strange, I mean how could they not? He’s always the smartest person in the room, absurdly quiet at times, far too watchful and observant and hard to read when he goes still and stares at someone a breath too long.
But that’s just Satoru…isn’t it?
Brilliant people like him are allowed to be strange. Boys that are attractive are allowed to be forgiven for things others would be ostracized for or considered creepy. No one ever looks at him and thinks danger.
No.
They see Satoru Gojo and think genius.
Innocent.
Yours.
Well…they used to call him that last one. Right before you ended.
Now? His number, his Instagram, his TikTok, his Twitter, his LinkedIn, his Gmail, and even his school email have been blocked.
You’ve changed your entire routine—altered your route to classes, switched coffee shops, stopped studying on the third floor of the library because that was where he always found you.
Found.
That was the word you utilized back then to define it, before you knew better.
At first, it had felt romantic, the way Gojo always seemed to know where you were. You would look up from your laptop at some hushed corner table and there he’d be, sliding into the chair across from you with an iced latte in one hand and that infuriating little smile already pulling at his mouth.
“Stalking me?” You’d ask as he pushed the latte toward you.
“Poorly,” He’d joke, smirk deepening, “You make it easy.”
And you’d giggle blithely because you were stupid.
Because back then, his odd behavior made you feel wanted.
It felt like devotion when he remembered your exact drink order after hearing it only once. It felt like love when he noticed you were cold before you did, tugging his hoodie over your head wordlessly, fingers grazing your jaw as he fiddled with the drawstrings. It felt like something precious when he recalled every detail you ever gave him, every offhand comment, every tiny confession you dropped without meaning to.
Gojo remembered everything.
The side of the bed you slept on, the exact brand and shade of lipgloss you constantly reapplied on those pretty lips, the way your voice wavered when you were trying not to cry, each building your last class ended in.
He knew all of it.
And you foolishly believed that his attention to the details meant he loved you. But slowly, you understood it. Because soon enough, it began to feel like he was keeping inventory as if you were just another subject for him to master.
Though the worst part is, he never acted like the kind of boyfriend your friends could easily hate. He never raised his voice. Didn’t punch walls or scream outside your apartment or call you names in the middle of a party. Of course he wouldn’t—he was too calculated and careful to make himself look like a bad boyfriend from an outsider’s perspective.
And he wasn’t necessarily “bad” either, more so he was suffocating. If you mentioned studying with someone from class, he’d tilt his head and say, “Hope that someone is a girl.”
Whenever you wore something new, his inquisitive eyes would drag over your figure, just once, slow and meticulous, before asking, “Who are you dressing up for?”
And God forbid the times you’d come home later than usual, because oh, he remembered that too. Your phone would be lighting up the second you turned the doorknob to enter.
toru 🤍
|| you good?
Then, when you didn’t answer quick enough, thirty seconds later he’d send—
toru 🤍
|| don’t ignore me baby.
Before you could even set your stuff down to settle in, he’d message again.
toru 🤍
|| i’m outside.
You’d open your front door and there he’d be. Standing in a black hoodie, luminous hair reflecting light under the streetlamps, hands tucked into the pockets of his joggers like he hadn’t just crossed campus because you took three minutes too long to respond.
Apparently that was normal. Love was supposed to feel like being tracked.
Yet, you couldn’t help but get upset at times, and that’s when he would make it all sound reasonable—as if you’re the crazy one.
“I worry about you, baby…” He’d coo, voice soft enough to make guilt curl under your ribs and the frustration to die, “Is that a crime?”
No. Of course not. Worrying wasn’t a crime, neither was remembering or showing up or loving someone so intensely that it started to feel like a noose tightening around your neck.
At least, that’s what you convinced yourself of until you simply couldn’t anymore.
You ended it with him because some awful, exhausted part of you knew that if you stayed, Gojo would swallow your whole life and disguise it as care. He would make a home out of your skin and feign hurt when you asked for room to breathe.
And the breakup itself was quiet, almost too quiet. He sat on the edge of your bed with his elbows resting on his knees, glasses pushed up into his hair, staring at the floor like he was solving a coding error so difficult it would require even his full concentration.
You had expected him to display anger, maybe even some begging, or that terrifying calm of his finally cracking into something ugly to prove that you weren’t losing your mind.
Instead, he only peered up at you and murmured, “You don’t mean that.”
Your hands shook when you replied with, “I do.”
And for the first time in his life, Satoru Gojo appeared genuinely confused; this was a glitch in the software he had never encountered. Despite that, he smiled, barely. A small, empty thing that never reached his eyes, “Okay.”
That was it. Okay.
He didn’t cause a scene, shed not a single tear, no doors were slammed. All he did was leave your apartment with the same eerie composure he did everything else, and for one stupid, fleeting second, you almost called him back.
Because that was the thing about Gojo. Even when he scared you, you missed him. And though he smothered you consistently, some depraved sliver of you craved being held down by the weight of his devout attention.
You hated that most. So you blocked him entirely before it could win. His number first, then every account you knew of, then every account you suspected.
For the next two weeks, you rebuilt your life around avoiding him and miraculously, he let you.
He didn’t corner you after classes or wait outside your building. Didn’t send an absurdly large bouquet of flowers in an attempt to say I’m sorry. Didn’t ask your friends about you, at least not in any way that got back to you.
He just…disappeared so cleanly it felt like he had never been in your life at all. The realization should’ve made you feel better, but it didn’t.
Why? You don’t even know.
Maybe you anticipated more fight out of him, more willingness to do whatever necessary to get you back. Something—anything, but nothing?
The silence was unsettling, Satoru Gojo was not the type of guy who let things go. He obsessed, studied, fixated until every last detail had been memorized, picked apart, and tucked away behind those gorgeous cerulean blues for later use.
So no, his absence did not feel like peace. It felt like waiting.
And on a Thursday night, your phone buzzes, hardly pulling a glance from you. It’s late, your laptop is open across your thighs with some half-finished assignment glowing uselessly back, a vanilla scented candle burning low on your desk. Your brain is fried enough after an exhausting day that you assume it’s a friend sending you some stupid TikTok or a class group chat blowing up over an upcoming exam.
It’s neither of the two. It’s Instagram. A message request from an account you didn’t recognize.
@.6iX3y3s
Your brows pinch; there’s no profile picture, no posts, no mutual following, no bio. Just the ominous username and the message attached.
@.6iX3y3s
|| you looked pretty today.
You stare at it for a second. Weird? Sure. But not enough to make your stomach fully drop.
Girls get strange messages all the time. Random horny losers with burner accounts and a shit ton of audacity. Pathetic, easy to ignore.
So that’s exactly what you do. You leave it there unanswered and lock your phone, rolling your eyes before forcing yourself back to your homework.
By the time the next message comes in the following afternoon, you had almost forgotten about it. You’re leaving class when your phone vibrates in your hand—same account.
@.6iX3y3s
|| you ignored me last night.
|| i dare you to ignore this one, love.
|| you’re wearing pink today. how cute.
Your steps falter, it’s the pet name that does it. Or maybe, the way your stomach churns when you look down at the soft knitted sleeves clinging to your arms and realize, with an abhorrent, creeping sort of nausea that yes…
You’re wearing pink.
That doesn’t mean much though, does it? Pink is a lucky guess. People wear pink all the time. Half the campus has probably already seen you in it. Anyone from lecture could’ve; anyone from the hallways, the stairwells, the quad.
Still.
Still, something about the messages feels wrong in a way the one last night hadn’t. Less like some random freak saying dumb shit and more like someone smiling while they watched you read it.
Your gaze lifts from your phone on instinct, eyes skimming over the crowds spilling out of the buildings around you. Students move in loose swarms down the concrete steps, laughing too loudly, shoulders brushing, backpacks bouncing against their spines. Normal. Everything appears painfully normal.
Nobody is staring at you or making it obvious that they are, which only makes it worse. Because whoever sent the messages is here. They have to be. Somewhere in the blur of bodies passing too close, possibly hiding behind a pair of sunglasses or beneath a baseball cap or pretending to be in conversation. Your mouth goes dry and again, you choose to not reply. You shove your phone into your tote bag and start walking, pace a little quicker now, heartbeat annoyingly irregular.
You keep telling yourself it’s nothing, some creep from class. Some fucking loser who noticed your outfit and thought anonymity would make them interesting. Yet, when you return home, your shoulders are drawn tighter than usual. And later that night, they send more DMs.
You’re in the middle of microwaving leftover pad thai, one hip braced against the counter.
@.6iX3y3s
|| still ignoring me?
|| that’s not very nice.
|| i can be patient though.
And before you could even decide what to do with that, another message comes through.
@.6iX3y3s
|| besides…you always were prettier when you got mean.
The microwave beeps and you nearly drop your phone. This one is different—it shows familiarity. Whoever this person is, they must know you. Or at least, know you in a way that allows them to say something like that, right? Or is this all some sick fucking game?
Your thumb hovers over the screen, tempted to type out who the fuck is this?
But you don’t. You won't give them the satisfaction of knowing that you let some anonymous asshole get to you.
Instead, you set your phone face down on the counter and try to eat dinner like your appetite hadn’t just vanished. You make it all of five minutes before flipping it back over and—nope. Nothing new.
That should be relieving, but it does nothing of the sort. Because now, you’re waiting for the next one, anticipating other weird shit, and that more than anything, pisses you off.
But the messages do keep coming after that, of course, not in rapid succession though. No, whoever is behind the burner account is much smarter than that. They let hours pass sometimes; a whole day, once. Just long enough for you to start convincing yourself that maybe they’re bored. Maybe it’s over. Maybe you imagined how wrong it all felt.
And as soon as those thoughts cross your mind that’s when your phone lights up again.
@.6iX3y3s
|| did you know that you bite your lip when you read?
|| such a pretty little habit.
Another afternoon, you get—
@.6iX3y3s
|| you looked tired this morning.
|| poor thing.
One time when you come home a little too late, they send—
@.6iX3y3s
|| you really shouldn’t walk alone at night.
|| it’s dangerous.
|| someone could hurt you.
Is the last message a threat? Fuck. They’re getting worse. Too close and observant to the point where even blocking them feels like it may potentially do more harm than good.
And underneath that…a part of you kept circling back to him.
To Satoru.
You hated yourself for it.
No—you’d think every time the possibility surfaced. No, if it were Gojo, you would know…wouldn’t you?
There would be something smug in it, something sharper. Some arrogant little phrasing that gave him away. These messages were creepy, yes, but they’re hollow too.
They could belong to anybody, that’s what you keep repeating to yourself.
Right up until the night they didn't.
It happened so ordinarily that you almost missed the horror of it. Fresh out of the shower, skin still damp beneath an oversized T-shirt, you stand in the middle of your bedroom lazily rifling through your dresser for underwear. The apartment was unusually quiet save for the hum of the ceiling fan and the faint traffic murmuring outside your window. You’re tired, barely thinking, running on routine.
Your phone vibrates somewhere behind you on the bed and you reach for it absentmindedly, thumb already unlocking the screen before your brain catches up.
@.6iX3y3s
|| mm. you always did look better right out of the shower.
Your entire body freezes, as did the room, like the whole world decided to pause with you. All you can do is glare at the message while your pulse gives one hard, sickening thud against the inside of your throat.
No. No, that doesn’t—your mind rushes to explain it away before the panic could get there first.
That’s another lucky guess. Plenty of people shower at night. Lots of girls throw on a big shirt after. It means nothing.
@.6iX3y3s
|| slick skin. bare legs. and oh, my favorite part…
|| no bra.
A repulsive, slow feeling begins to unfurl within your insides.. Now, the messages were growing vile. Too vile.
Another buzz reverberates. You don’t want to look, but do so anyway.
@.6iX3y3s
|| black lace panties tonight?
|| adorable.
|| you should see the look on your face right now.
And that is the moment your eyes leave the phone and lift to the room, not in confusion anymore; fear has finally taken over. Your gaze cuts violently across the space—window, curtains, mirror, closet door left cracked open, desk, bookshelves, the black screen of your laptop, the dim amber glow of your lamp.
Nothing was out of place, nothing was amiss. Nothing. This makes the dread worsen.
Whoever is behind the burner account isn’t guessing. They aren’t pulling details out of their ass or listing off observations between classes.
No, they’re seeing you. Right now. In your fucking bedroom.
Your heartbeat starts to pound so hard it aches, roaring in your ears as you take one careful step backward, then another. The room looks exactly the same as it always does and still, somehow, someone is in here with you.
A shaky breath hooks in your throat as your eyes drag over the space again, frantically. Until your gaze snags on something small and soft propped in the far corner of your desk…
A teddy bear.
Okay, that’s nothing. Just another useless object in here.
Oh, but then as you keep looking at it, one of its eyes catches the light wrong. Too glossy, unlike plastic or thread, rather—glass. Your stomach plummets so abruptly it feels like missing a stair.
Satoru gave it to you six months ago while you were still together. Summer break, back when everything between you was all sweet and perfect. You had teased him for hovering too much while you read a book, complained that he acted like he needed to keep eyes on you at all times, and he had only smiled—that easy, charming smile, and dropped the plushy into your lap.
“There,” He said, “A replacement.”
You had laughed and called him ridiculous, yet took it home anyway. Why wouldn’t you? It was cute, harmless at the time. But now, you see it clearly. There is nothing harmless about it. If he couldn’t have physical eyes on you at all times, he’ll have a stuffed animal do the job for him.
So he’s the one behind the burner account. Of fucking course it’s him. Deep down, you knew it too.
Your heart hammers within your chest, but you don’t move toward the bear, because if Gojo is watching, then the second you react he’ll know you’ve figured it all out.
And for some reason, that matters.
Satoru thinks he’s clever.
Fine. Let him think that.
Slowly, you take your eyes off the bear and place them back onto what you were doing. The dresser, right. You were about to put on the pair of black lace panties you grabbed before Gojo poisoned the moment.
Act normal. That is the only thought in your head now. Act like you don’t know.
You step into the underwear with deliberate calm, every movement controlled. You toss your wet towel into the hamper, reach for the lotion sitting on your nightstand and rub it over your legs with unhurried strokes, forcing yourself not to glance at the desk in the corner.
After you finish with that, you lock your phone and set it face down like nothing had even happened. As if your privacy hadn’t been violated and the stupid little bear with the red satin ribbon wasn’t staring at your bed with one surveillant eye and your ex-boyfriend wasn’t somewhere on the other end of that feed feeling smug and victorious.
The performance of ignorance starts now.
Because if Satoru thinks that the power still belongs to him, he is mistaken. He’s not the only one with a secret now.
You know about everything. And he doesn’t know that you know.
Ever since that night, you start performing without ever letting it look like a performance. A towel wrapped dangerously low on your chest, sliding a pair of jeans off slower than necessary, bending over on purpose to pick up certain things.
And every time, he takes the bait. Every single time.
@.6iX3y3s
|| there you are.
@.6iX3y3s
|| the prettiest girl.
@.6iX3y3s
|| keep the light on.
@.6iX3y3s
|| i could watch you bend over all day.
The last one almost makes you throw your phone, but instead you smile at it. The shape of the game is glaringly obvious now. He thinks he’s winning and getting away with something, yet all the while he has no idea that every glimpse he gets is one you’ve already decided to hand him.
For as intelligent as he is, Gojo is easier to manipulate than he thinks. That, more than anything, makes you bold. You start crossing the room in only a bra and panties without rushing, sit on your bed after showers with a sheer thong and T-shirt on, pretending to scroll through your phone as the hem creeps past your hips.
His messages, of course, get greedier and entitled.
@.6iX3y3s
|| you’re such a tease.
@.6iX3y3s
|| god, that mouth.
@.6iX3y3s
|| spread your legs like that again.
You stare at the words for a long moment. Then you lock your phone and do exactly as he asks, wanting to see how far he can bend until he breaks, and then, the idea finally comes to you.
If Satoru Gojo wants to watch you, you’ll give him a fucking show.
The next night, after you shower and go through your post-shower routine as usual, you’re propped up in your bed on top of pillows with your legs spread wide, T-shirt riding up all the way. Unlike the other nights, you’re not wearing panties, no, you’re on full display.
And somewhere across campus, Gojo is already watching intently.
The camera feed on his desktop monitor glows against the dark of his room, painting everything in pale blues and soft golds—his laptop screen, the discarded notes spread uselessly across his desk, the half-finished cup of coffee by his elbow. He has work due by midnight; two assignments open, a problem set half solved.
He hasn’t looked at any of it in the last twenty minutes, because there you are. Your thighs are parted obscenely, knees bent, heels digging into the mattress so your pretty pussy glistens right in the center of the frame. His breath catches and stays caught.
He should feel ashamed, but he doesn’t. Or at least, not enough to stop.
Because after everything—the break up, the blocking, the way you cut him out of every part of your life like he was something easy to remove, this is all he has left.
The sight of you; the sick little comfort of knowing that even if you won’t answer him or look at him or let him near you, there is still this one private place where he can watch and remember and pretend that means something.
It has to mean something. That is the lie he has been feeding himself for days now.
All the times you’ve peeled your clothes off slower and slower, when you sat on the edge of your bed with your shirt riding up to reveal whatever panties you’re wearing, every message he’d send and you’d obey.
He tells himself it’s accidental, a gift. Well, he tells himself a lot of things. What he does not let himself say out loud is the ugliest one.
Show me you still think about me.
His jaw tightens as he watches your hand trail down your stomach, languid and lazy, fingers brushing over your lower belly before dipping between your legs.
Two fingers glide through your folds, parting them so the bear’s eye catches the slick shine of your arousal already coating your cunt. You’re soaked; glossy and puffy and dripping. The wet sound of it carries through the feed when you drag those fingers back up to circle your swollen clit.
Gojo’s throat works, cock twitching hard in his sweatpants. There it is again; that awful, hot hope crawling through him like a disease.
Show me you missed me.
It’s humiliating how badly he wants it. The proof that he still lives somewhere inside you. That blocking his number did not erase the shape he left behind and when you’re alone, some part of you still curves instinctively toward him.
He wants his name, if he’s being truthful. He wants it in your mouth and on your breath as you shift your hips, roll them up to meet your own touch, and push two fingers inside with a lewd squelch—tentative at first, then deeper, giving him exactly what he wants to see.
His pulse is hammering now.
Say it.
Say my name.
Show me it’s still me.
Because who else would it be? Who else has known you like he has?
Who else would catalog every minute detail about you with such care?
His breathing turns shallow as your moans get louder, needier; hips snapping to meet every thrust of your fingers. You finally speak, softly, and the name that leaves your mouth is not his.
“Sukuna…”
For one full second, Satoru does not understand what he heard. The room around him goes entirely still and his body does too, fingers slipping from the desk edge.
No.
No, that—
His jaw locks so hard it aches as he stares at the monitor like he can glare the name back into your mouth and replace it with his own, but the damage is already done.
Sukuna.
Not Satoru.
Ryomen fucking Sukuna.
The frat boy, dope dealer. The smug, loud, filthy shit stain on campus Gojo has despised on instinct since the first week of freshman year.
And suddenly, the whole thing curdles. The feed of you fucking yourself; the hot, breathless tension he had been drawing in just seconds ago. All of it sours.
Because the emotions that flood him are immediate, humiliating, and vicious in a way that makes his skin feel too tight.
Sukuna?
That pathetic asshole with the face tats from Greek Row who fucks everything that walks?
His name is the one in your mouth?
That’s who you choose?
Something hot and ugly rises through Gojo so fast it makes him dizzy. Because up until now? He had been arrogant enough to believe this moment was for him. That no matter how you tried to push him away there would still be this one private place where he remained, a place no one else gets to touch…and then you say another man’s name.
Oh, but not just any man—Sukuna, of all men.
The guy he detests most. A choice that feels engineered to piss him off.
Yet, somewhere in the back of Satoru’s racing mind, buried beneath the jealousy and rage and sudden nauseating flare of humiliation, a thought stirs too late.
Why him?
His phone is in his hand before he consciously registers reaching for it, fingers moving faster than his pride can catch up; faster than logic or the cold, careful part of him that should have stopped this exact thing from happening.
@.6iX3y3s
|| don’t.
Once the message is sent, the world comes rushing back in around him. His own breathing, the coffee mug at his elbow that has gone entirely cold, the blue-white light of the monitor, the fact that his pulse is thundering so hard he can feel it in his teeth.
His eyes lock onto the monitor, you’ve stopped moving now. Pulling your fingers out of your clenched walls, you reach for your phone on the nightstand instead and glance down at the Instagram notification.
He watches you unlock your phone, your eyes moving as you read. Then his own phone buzzes and his gaze drops instantly. A new message, from you, of course.
@(y/n)(l/n)
|| don’t what, satoru?
Everything in him goes rigid.
Ah…so you know.
You know it’s him behind the burner account. You know about the bear and the hidden camera inside and that he’s been watching.
Slowly, almost against his will, Gojo lifts his head to look back at the monitor, and there you are.
Already staring straight into the lens—straight at him.
His breath punches out of him in one sharp, silent rush. It was as if you were waiting for him to look up and wanted him to feel the full, awful weight of being caught all at once; every hidden, ugly thing inside him getting dragged into the light.
Suddenly, everything starts to make sense. All those slow, purposeful movements over the last few days, each careful pause, every night he sat here letting himself believe he was the one in control and stealing something from you in secret.
That was because you let him.
No, worse—you orchestrated it.
On the screen, your mouth curves. A mean, small, devastating grin that sends heat rushing violently up the nape of his neck.
A trap. That’s what this was.
He has no right to be angry, he knows that. Yet, despite the blood in the water, Satoru Gojo is still too obsessive and gone to stop himself from what he does next. He stands abruptly, shoving his chair back with such force the wheels protest.
There’s no point in answering your message. This situation calls for more than that.
Instead, he’ll go right to your front door.
And it takes him less than three minutes to get there.
He knocks, three little taps of his knuckles and in his other hand he’s holding his phone, already typing—
@.6iX3y3s
|| open it.
Beyond the door, there's a heartbeat of silence so prolonged it makes his pulse kick harder. Eventually, the lock clicks and it opens. When it does, Satoru forgets every single thing he meant to say.
Because you’re standing right in front of him, still flushed from the orgasm he just watched you ride out on camera, wearing only that oversized T-shirt. The hem skims the top of your bare thighs and he can see the faint shine of your own cum still glistening on the inside of one leg.
Fuck, seeing it in person after watching it through a screen feels way worse than he anticipated.
Your face, though, is the opposite of his. It’s calm, almost bored. Like you didn’t just say another man’s name into the eye of his camera to break him.
“You came fast,” You say flatly, tone utterly conversational. Which somehow makes it crueler.
Gojo’s gaze flicks down once before he can stop it, one sharp, involuntary glance at your naked thighs disappearing beneath the cotton fabric, then jerks back to your face, “You knew.”
You lean one shoulder against the doorframe, blocking the entrance with your body, “You watched.”
He tenses at the words, already aware that he should deny it. He should try to claw back some semblance of control or a lie so clean it can give him room to breathe, but he does none of that.
Being caught this thoroughly means that lying starts to feel even more pathetic than the fact that he’s been watching all this time.
With his voice low, rough, and fraying at the edges, he opts for, “How long?”
Your expression barely shifts, “Long enough.”
He understands what that means. Long enough to turn yourself into a performance and let him think he was the one running the show.
“You should’ve thrown it away,” He seethes.
“You should’ve hidden it better.”
Satoru nearly laughs, but bites it back, grip tightening around his phone, “You played me.”
A tiny tilt of your head when you ask, “Did I?”
He takes one step closer, the space between you feeling too narrow now, “You knew I was watching.”
“I knew someone was.”
“Sukuna?” The name comes out fouler than he means it to, thick with something too ugly to bother disguising.
There’s a slight, satisfied change in your face that tells him he’s exactly where you wanted him. He fucking hates that, “What about him?”
Gojo’s smile is humorless, “You knew what you were doing.”
Your lips curve again, the little wicked one from before, “Yes.”
The honesty of it stings more than the denial would have. You did it on purpose—chose the one person’s name on campus guaranteed to make him snap.
“Move.”
“No.”
His eyes behind those silver frames narrow, you don’t budge from the doorway. The oversized shirt slips just barely on one thigh as you shift your weight and the movement is so small and subconscious that it almost ruins him entirely. Probably because it doesn’t feel subconscious at all. Now, he can’t trust a single thing you do to not be deliberate.
“So you let me come here just to keep me outside?”
“You got yourself here,” You shoot back as he takes another step.
He’s close enough to the point that the toe of his sneaker nearly touches the threshold. He can see the flush still ghosting across your cheeks and feels the charged heat radiating off your body or maybe that’s just him; his own blood is running too hot under his skin after everything he’s witnessed.
“You gonna tell me to go?”
You should. That’s the rational thing to do. Tell him to leave, slam the door in his stupid face, and let him stand there with his ridiculous jealousy and whatever pathetic excuse for love made him hide a camera in a teddy bear to watch you through it like a total fucking creep.
But the problem is…that some horrible part of you likes this.
Not what he did exactly, no, there’s no justifying that, but this—the sight of him outside your door destroyed, caught, and still wanting. The way he came running over the second you pulled the right string. All that genius and polished composure rotting so quickly into something needy and pitiful.
You like how badly he wants you.
You like that he watched.
You like that he couldn’t stay away.
And maybe that makes you just as disgusting as he is.
Your fingers flex once against the edge of the door and Satoru notices. His gaze drags over your face like he’s trying to read the answer before you ever say it, but what he finds only seems to make him hungrier.
Because he knows you too well and he knows that look.
“I asked you something,” He murmurs, voice quieter and roughened.
Your eyes flick down to his mouth without permission, and that mere slip is all it takes. Something dangerous flashes behind his glasses, and God, you hate the way that affects you too. It should repulse you. Hell, it does, but not enough.
Your hand leaves the edge of the door and catches loosely in the front of his hoodie; Gojo freezes, waiting patiently for your next move. The charged silence stretches further and further, you can feel your pulse thrumming practically everywhere, “I’m still angry,” You admit.
He nods once, “I know.”
“This fixes nothing.”
A faint chuckle crawls up his throat, “We’ll see about that.”
His cockiness alone makes you want to shove him back, yet you don’t. Instead, your fingers tighten in the collar of his hoodie and yank. The second Gojo crosses the threshold you slam the door behind with your heel; he doesn’t even get a chance to speak before your mouth is on his—angry, open, biting. The taste of bitter coffee floods your senses, and for one treacherous breath you recall kissing him in the past, remembering how he always tasted like this.
His hands are already slipping under the hem of your oversized shirt, palms hot against the bare skin of your waist, gripping hard enough to bruise, “You’re such a fucking creep,” You hiss against his lips, but you’re already walking him backward toward your bed, shoving at his chest.
“I know,” He breathes, low and wrecked, glasses fogging from how hard he’s heaving, but he doesn’t take them off. He just lets you push until the back of his knees hit the mattress and he sits, “But you enjoyed it. Every second.”
You climb into his lap, straddling him, shirt riding all the way up to your hips. The slick heat of your cunt presses right against his sweatpants and you both feel it—how hard he already is, thick and straining under the fabric. You grind down once, teasingly, watching his head tip back and throat bob.
“Say it again,” He demands, fingers digging into your ass, pulling you impossibly closer, “Say his name again while you’re this wet for me, I dare you.”
You laugh, a hint of mischief in it, “Sukun—”
His hand is in your hair before you finish the last syllable, yanking your head back so suddenly your spine arches. The sting makes you moan and the sound breaks something in him. Gojo surges up, mouth latching onto your throat, sucking a mark right under your jaw like he has to prove to everyone that you’re still his.
“Don’t ever say that shit again,” He growls against your skin, teeth scraping. One of his hands leaves your ass to shove between your bodies. Two long fingers drag through your folds, gathering the mess you made earlier, and he pushes them inside you.
You gasp, hips jerking, because he knows exactly how you like it, “Fuck—Satoru—”
“There is it,” His voice is smooth silk, “That’s the only name I want in this pretty mouth.”
He fucks you with his fingers like he’s determined to do it better than you did, thumb circling your clit in tight, relentless strokes. Your thighs tremble around his hips, the obscene sounds of how wet you are fill the air every time he thrusts in, and he watches your face the whole time with intense devotion. Those brilliant blue eyes half-lidded behind fogged glasses, drink in every flutter of your lashes.
You grab the front of his hoodie again and yank it up. He helps, ripping it off one-handed, shirt underneath following a second later revealing pale skin and lean muscles you used to trace when you were still pretending he was harmless. You rake your nails down his chest so deep they leave pink lines and he groans, hips bucking so his clothes cock grinds against your clit.
“Off,” You order, tugging at his sweatpants.
Gojo lifts his hips and you shove them down just far enough for his cock to spring free—long, flushed at the tip, already leaking, and you don’t give him time to think. You wrap your hand around him then sink down in one smooth motion; the stretch burns so good your mouth falls open on a silent cry. He’s big, always has been, but tonight it feels like he’s splitting you open.
His head drops forward, forehead pressed to your collarbone, a broken sound ripping out of him, “Fuck—baby—still so fucking tight for me—”
Not letting him catch his breath, you start riding him hard, rolling your hips and using him exactly how you want. Every time you drop down he bottoms out, the tip kissing that spot that makes your vision spark white. His hands roam everywhere; gripping your ass, sliding up your back under the shirt, tearing it off so he can watch your tits bounce with each thrust.
“Mm, look at you,” He pants, “Taking me so well—like you’ve been empty without it.”
You laugh again, but it comes out shaky, “You wish.”
He snaps his hips suddenly, driving into you so deep you see stars, “Liar.”
You brace your hands on his shoulders as he fucks up into faster and harder, one arm locked around your waist to keep you pinned, “Say it,” He demands, lips brushing your ear, “Say you missed me.”
You bite your lip, refusing, even though your walls twitch around him. He slows to a torturous grind, rolling his hips so the head of his cock drags right against that perfect spot over and over, “Say it, baby…or I stop.”
You hate how quickly you break, “Missed—you, Toru—fuck.”
A wicked grin spreads across his face, “Yeah…I know.”
Then he flips you over, back hitting the mattress and him on top before you can even react. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, folds you in half, and pistons in so deep your back arches clean off the bed. The new angle has you sobbing his name repeatedly like it’s the only word you know, fingers clawing at any part of him that you can reach.
He fucks you like he’s trying to crawl inside your ribcage and live there; deep, punishing strokes that make your full sized bed creak and headboard slam against the wall. You can feel your orgasm building fast, coiling tight and vicious in your lower belly.
“Satoru—gonna—”
“Cum for me, baby,” He coos, thumb finding your clit again, “Let me feel how much you still need me.”
It hits you with such intensity that your vision whites out, walls clamping around him so tight that he groans like he’s in pain, but he doesn’t falter. He rides you through it, chasing his own release, “Mine,” He chants against your neck, voice cracking, “Still fucking mine—”
Gojo buries himself to the hilt and cums with a broken moan, hips stuttering as he spills deep inside you, hot and thick. He keeps grinding you through it as if he wants to push every drop as far in as it’ll go, claiming you from the inside out.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room is both of you panting with sweat-slick bodies tangled together. Satoru lifts his head, glasses completely fogged, white hair a tethered mess, cheeks flushed. He looks both ruined and perfect—yours.
He presses a surprisingly soft kiss to your swollen lips, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
There’s a long pause, until he answers with, “For all of it.”
All of it. The camera, the burner account, the surveillance, showing up here like this.
You don’t answer right away; forgiveness is too pure of a word for whatever this is and one night of wanting doesn’t erase the violation or redeem him. You reach up and remove the fogged glasses off his face, set them aside on the nightstand, and look at him properly.
“You’re still a sick fuck, you know that?”
A smile flickers at the corner of his mouth, “I do.”
Your nails drag lightly down his spine, “But, next time you want to watch me…”
His eyes lift to yours as you trail off and you hold them there deliberately, adding—
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Shoko x Reader, Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, hybrids AU, rúts, heats, bonding bites, coIIars (for Ino and Nanami), use of ‘good boy’, chokíng, making you cry, rough s, cervíx smooching, NEEDY men, stopping you from running, manhandIing, dúmbifícation, lil’ surprise for Higuruma, DP, pIot, SHOKOOO cameo, oraI (fem rec.), fíngering, p talking p sIapping, Gojo’s FÉRAL, bIindfolds, law professor!Higuruma, marathons, overstím, making him WHlMPER, needy JJK men, squírting, creampíes, cúmpIay, sIight cúmfIation, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. HAPPY (belated?) LESBlAN VISlBlLITY WEEK!! Mwahahah yk I had to write ab my favorite girl too…
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - WOLF!
Hybrid type: Canis lupus
Toji’s prolonged canines sink into the side of your neck.
Your mouth drops open in a soundless scream, and your thighs are quiverin’ where his were pressed against them. From behind, the wolf hybrid was practically pinning you down using his weight - using even the heft of his abdomen.
The firm sculpture of his v-line pushed against your behind. The entire length of him pistoning inside at a dizzying pace.
Abs against your back. Pecs near your shoulders.
Head dipped into the crook of your neck- panting between every clench of your walls. It seems that the harder he was driving his hips, the more n’ more animalistic his noises were becoming—until those intimidating teeth of his made an appearance to mark you as his.
Truly his.
When you entered the local Hybrid Companionship Program, you’d never have guessed you’d end up like this. Though you certainly weren’t complaining.
But Toji had always known you were his mate.
It’d started on a Friday night; your boss had insisted on yet another drinking party, and you’d been strong-armed into joining a few awkward co-workers in pouring drinks and pretending that you cared so much more about what Abe from finance had to say about the state of the economy and how it related to lax dress codes at work.
Particularly your dress code.
Ugh.
You’re throwing the drunken man inside the taxi with more force than necessary—and handing over a large tip to the driver in front.
You might hate the guy, but leaving him on the pavement like this might just get your pay docked…
As a few more of your co-workers pile into the taxi, they ask you whether you’re joining.
Your eyes flicker from the tangled body of Abe inside…to the clear night out…back to Abe inside. It’s with something akin to relief that you’re saying you’d rather walk—it wasn’t too far of a trek anyways. It’s just then that Abe babbles something about it being unsafe and he’d oh-so-gladly make some room for you…
You’re closing the taxi door and not caring whether you catch Abe’s toes.
It was during this night walk - which in and of itself was rather uneventful - that you passed by the Tokyo Hybrid Center. The hub for all things hybrid-related: from informational seminars, to campaigning, to employment opportunities, and even a shelter for hybrids that were on the run from illegal fighting rings, etc.
And it was outside this massive building that you saw the sign.
Hot hybrids 5 minutes away want to meet you!
HYBRID COMPANIONSHIP PROGRAM:
Are you searching for a new roommate? Are you looking to broaden your friend group beyond simple human backgrounds?
Join our Hybrid Companionship Program to get suited with hybrids that wish to make new human friends. Deepen relations between humans and hybrids!
Contact +69 XXX XXX XXXX for more information (or just walk in!)
You’d walked in.
It’d taken about a week to plough through the columns of forms and meetings with officials of the program. And after you finally managed to complete them, you waited…and waited…and waited…
Months later, you’d been entertaining the thought that perhaps they just found you unsuitable for every hybrid that walked through those doors. Which stung a little, you admit, for Abe had been particularly irritating at that stuffy office lately- and you’d been itching for a new friend. But you could get through, surely—
That’s when you got a call from the program, informing you that you’d been matched with a grey wolf hybrid.
That’s how you became friends with Toji Fushiguro.
An unsure, bumbling friendship.
One that meant - a few months later - you found yourself like this—
Nails attempting to claw into the mattress - it’s drawing a few jagged lines down the silken sheets that you swear you’d just washed—though that wasn’t anything Toji cared about. He couldn’t even think.
He couldn’t feel anything other than the soft, suctioning sensation of your pussy- the way it was dragging his inches back in even as he pulled out. The cutest squelches leave you every time he’s pushing in, in, in—
And Toji himself pulls his face out from the crook of your neck.
He’s leaving a garish bite mark behind- and the wolf hybrid laps at it a few times. Proud of his work. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s been wanting to do this since the moment he met you.
And then he’s catching sight of your lecherous reactions- the way you’re squirmin’ away from him and whimpering at the stinging feeling. Oh…how it makes him snicker.
Before you can register it, his right hand reaches in front of you and tenderly intertwines his fingers with yours, “How cute…” How sweet. How loving. “But don’t you think you can run away from me, doll.” In a single split-second, Toji has both of your hands pulled behind your back- and your pretty face collapsing onto the pillows.
Spit smears out of your mouth and on the pillowcases, and you’re keening as he bends your hands behind your back.
Holding onto them-
“I’d never—ngh, run away…” You scoff.
“Good.” He’s exposing your freshly-made bite mark to his hot pants. “Because m’not stopping anytime soon.”
Then in the next few strokes, Toji’s straightening himself up as he keeps drilling into you from behind - maintaining a strong hold on your wrists. Pulling them behind you. Leaving you completely at the mercy of his rugged, pummeling cock. Just pushing and pushing—
He glues his muscular thighs to the backs of yours- and keeps his inky-black happy trail scruffing at your ass cheeks. The way you were arched in this new position meant that he was hittin’ spots you didn’t even know existed. And most of all, his bulbous tip was shoved just a few inches deeper to make a firm indent at your cervix.
You’re whining as you feel the intrusion. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck—yes. More. I can take it.”
“More?” He asks questioningly.
Nodding and nodding.
“Careful what you wish for, honey.”
Though, despite Toji’s warning tone, his fluffy tail swishes behind him in delight. How he loved losing his senses in your pussy.
Your warm, welcoming pussy.
You’re squeezing his thick cock in surprise once you feel something settle atop your head- and it takes you longer than it should to realize that Toji Fushiguro had just reached his right leg in front of him and stepped down on your crown.
Your jaw drops at the utter audacity.
“H-holy shit…”
And then he’s increasing his pace, he’s exercising his immense strength even further.
He’s fucking you like he was furious with you - like he was making up for however many months he couldn’t get his hands on his precious mate. Something deeeeep, and carnal, inside him yips with glee at the fact that he had you like this—choking on his cock and begging for more. More and more.
Toji’s rational brain was overcome with…something he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.
Some strange part of him that needed to stuff himself so deep inside you that you remember him even once he’s pulled out. Some strange part of him that wanted his essence to be so combined with yours that everyone else that encounters you knows you’re his mate- and vice versa. He wanted you badly—always has. And even the slightest bounces of yours hips - whenever you were fucking back into him - made a part of him crack- he couldn’t stand to break contact with you for a single fucking second.
Toji tugs you by the arms - so far back that your ass cheeks were glued to his toned pelvis. And you have nowhere to run but the stirring motions of his cock.
In the hazy noise of your bodies meeting, the bed frame begins to crack!
“What’s the matter?” He croons. And after a few more vicious strokes render you near-speechless, he chuckles to himself. “Dick got your tongue?”
“You’re s-sooo—” But it was so hard to speak with the way his flared tip swabbed into your sweetest spots. He pinpointed even the ones your gooey channel kept hidden, and then ran the veiny underside of his length down those glossed walls- probing against your g-spot with such raw fervour. “Ngh.”
You were being pushed back n’ forth.
Manhandled back n’ forth.
And he doesn’t want you moving away from him for a single second.
The sheer force of his hips was enough that your sweaty scalp nearly bangs! against the wooden headboard. Toji notices the near-contact, and he’s lugging back both your bodies without a single word. “Hey hey- c’mere—where’d you think you’re going, huh?”
“S’not my fault…” Big tears run down your cheeks.
“Yeah yeah- now shush n’ take it”
Sweaty and tangled up as one.
And if that wasn’t enough- Toji runs his thickened cock out of your cunt. Slapping it against your puffy pussylips and probin’ at your clit for a few thrusts- before pushing his solid inches back in and pumping away until you were utterly stupid. Utterly babbling.
His ballsack ends up plastered against your folds and plap-plap-plapping.
You’re feeling the exact moment that they’re then clenching- an explosion of creamy white cum that drips into your glossy channel.
Wad after wad.
Ribbon after ribbon.
Your walls expand with the addition. “Oh p-pleeeease- fuck! So much…” Your mouth waters, “How can you even…so much.”
Webbing up your poor insides, drenching them pure white. His bawlin’ divot was also just the perfect shape to probe those droplets of cum into your tender orifices, smearing them with his length thereafter. Again and again. Toji needs merely a few thrusts of him fuckin’ his warm seed into you - before you’re hurtling into your own orgasm, too. And it’s so strong that it makes lights flash behind your eyes—
Through the white-hot pleasure, you feel a set of canines sink into your neck. Again.
This time, on the other side.
“Heh…now they’re gonna know for sure.”
.
.
.
It was inevitable that you’d be the talk of the office.
The moment you stepped through those swivelling doors: all eyes were on you.
From the bored receptionist that looked away from his computer, to the wizened doorman whose brows raised, to that damn Abe who’d been drinking at the water fountain at that precise moment you walked into the lobby. The interns openly gaped, of course.
But it was nothing against the way that Abe physically spat out the water he’d been holding in his mouth- right onto some unfortunate intern who looked as though he was very serious about quitting this job.
With a few hasty apologies, the bane of your office life was walking towards you.
Then perhaps he’d noticed just how large the canines that’d made that mating mark seemed to be. Perhaps he’d seen all those accompanying nips and nail marks wherever your skin was visible. Or perhaps he was seeing Toji—standing right behind you and glowering at the man.
You looked as though you’d been thrown to the wolves, and you’d brought one right to work.
“Toji, I told you—” You coo at him. “You don’t need to accompany me all the way here.”
“Oh, I think I do.” He murmurs.
In front of him, Abe starts backing up.
Looking straight at him, he says. “Have a great day at work…”
Grinning a grin that showcases every dangerous tooth.
“-my mate.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - White-collar man!
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris
“F-forgive me if I’m a little…unsure about this, my love.” You’ve never heard your perfect husband tremble in such a tone—something unsure, something so unlike the eloquent nature you’ve grown so used to.
He was stuttering.
Why? Perhaps because of the way you were sneakin’ your luscious cunt down his length. Perhaps because of the way you’re feeling his prominent vein sneak down your walls- squeezing him where he was girthiest. Or perhaps because of the collar you’d put ‘round him.
It was a throw-away comment, really.
You’d been seated beside your husband late at night; talking into the early hours of the morning—everything from your favorite dates to the best restaurants in Tokyo to…kinks that the two of you have never tried before. And your husband being a dog hybrid - a German Shepherd type, to be specific - you admit that you may have thought of something…to do…with making your husband don a collar.
And Nanami Kento being the perfect gentleman, was always happy to entertain your wildest ideas. At least once.
Though by the way he was affected by the thick faux-leather around his neck- you’re guessing that this might not be the last time…
“What’s the matter?” You watch as he brings up one finger and tugs on the tightened restraint. Underneath, Nanami’s Adam’s apple bobs—“Too tight for you, Kento?”
“Not at all.” He fervently shakes his head. “It’s just…”
“Just what, baby?” Giving him yet another stir of your hips. Pap-papping! down his swollen inches.
In response, the large hybrid bucks his pelvis up into yours- letting the skin of his thighs stick against your own, letting the bulbous edge of his cock veer in even deeper. So much of his length; it felt never-ending.
Nanami has to use up every single shred of will within him to keep his head from tipping backwards, “It’s just that- hck! that it feels so good that…” Jaw clenching at the way your walls kept clenching harder n’ harder around his length—he wanted to whine. But with that damn collar on him, his airway kept getting restricted. “-that i-it almost feels unfair.”
Alternating between a sensual, soft slide down his cock- and then speeding up when it felt like he was getting too clear-headed.
“What do you mean, Kento?” Genuine confusion.
“It just means that I’m over here feeling all good because of this collar and your- ngh—” Gesturing vaguely at your cunt - though that didn’t seem to be enough, and the blond man can’t stop himself from pushing aside your legs to let his hand between them. Running his thumb eagerly over your clit - thorough, steady strokes—just the way you liked it. “-your pussy. But am I making you feel good enough, my love?”
Your brows furrow, “Of course you are, Kento-”
“No, but…good enough.” He insists. And then his handsome face draws nearer, and Nanami’s lips are catching onto yours. “M’the type of man that needs my wife to feel better than me, darlin’.”
“Kento—o-oh.” Entire body wracking with carnal shivers at the feeling of his thumb pressin’ down even harder. Like some cute heart-shaped button, he’s pouring out all his love with stroke after stroke after stroke.
And he continues, “I need you to feel so good that you almost can’t take it.” He growls- and for a split-second you’re seeing a flash of those intimidating canines that made you weak in the knees. Nanami’s ears perk up in alertness as his hips start rammin’ equally as fast to meet your pace, “I need you to feel dizzy with pleasure- hear me?”
“Fuck-”
“I need you to feel better than me.”
“Oh…” Head lolling behind- you’re not getting too far before he’s craning his neck and catching your mouth in a sloppy kiss.
Golden brows furrowing, “Mmm—hear me? I need you to be aching, I need you to be fucked stupid- I need you to be mindless with pleasure…” And then his fingers are briefly letting go of your sensitive nub to pinch. “Because that’s what good husbands do.”
Stimulating your unsuspecting clit.
Running his crowned tip into every spot he knew you liked.
Nanami had his body practically plastered to yours as if he lived for this - he wanted to fuck you numb with pleasure, and it didn’t matter if he had to run his vein-covered shaft fucking raw on your walls to do it. Desperate. Dominant. Purely for your service. It didn’t matter if his collar was getting tighter between all the pants—if he couldn’t breathe. It didn’t matter if his limbs were getting tired. It didn’t matter if his hybrid tail was wagging his emotions all on display.
It takes a few more vulgar, sloppy strokes of him pushin’ away his translucent precum into your deepest depths before Nanami speaks again. This time, he jerks his head ever-so-slightly up into the air and sniffs. “And this good husband can also smell that you’re close.”
You’re breathless, “Close?” It wasn’t that you didn’t trust his honed hybrid senses but-
Fuck.
And then it’s hitting you.
“Sh-shiiiiit—” Without you even realizing it - it’d been building up without you even noticing - you’re wracking your way into your orgasm.
Like shards of glass scattering; bolts of pleasure build up at your pussy n’ then course through your veins. Sending deep pangs of euphoria up to your brain- your mind’s just a little fried when you’re elongating your high with primal bucks and bounces down Nanami’s ruthless cock. Up and up. Down until the scruff of his tawny-brown happy trail scratches against your outer folds.
Your head finally lunges back, your body’s arching into him.
And the only thing you can think to do is reach out and hold onto Nanami’s collar—
It’s like your lifeline. And your husband’s brows slightly raise as you clasp onto it, cutting off his breathing ever-so-slightly at the crescendo of your orgasm: you were choking him and he was liking it far more than he expected.
It’s all Nanami can do to gnaw down on the flap of his lower lip and continue, “This…fuck.”
“This is my pleasure, Kento.” Babbling out - you don’t know whether to blame the fogginess that your high brought upon you or not. “I really like it when you- hah, do your best to make me feel good. I really like that you—”
Pressing your lips to his.
“-make me feel so- fuck, loved.”
You can feel Nanami smiling into the kiss. His throat tremors with the signal that he was about to say something more- but you’re quickly cutting him off with a tug at his collar.
Finishing off, “And I really fucking love when you wear this collar f’me.”
Between your pussylips, his bulging cock twitches in arousal.
The most wicked grin spreads across Nanami’s handsome features, and he’s bringing his hand up to the collar- for a second there, you think he’s about to remove it. And you’re getting ready for the sensual entrapment to fall off—but instead, he takes his index and taps on the little loop that the collar had.
One for the leash.
“Then why don’t we take it a step further, darling?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Here, pussy pussy…
Hybrid type: Felis catus
Everyone knew that Geto Suguru was a cat hybrid.
One of those Abyssinian breeds that were rare and revered: he often prowled down the hallways of his temple, as silent as death itself, his tall figure casting shadows in every corner. Two upturned ears and a tail behind his chiseled frame. Because as beautiful as Geto Suguru was—he was just as dangerous.
And perhaps you knew better than anyone.
After all, as his right-hand member of the Association, you followed Geto wherever he went. To every dojo he visited to make sure that the other Association members were in top form for a battle; of course, it’d end up with him defeating them all and piling on the fatigued bodies as a lesson. To every home he had to visit, a mere smile of his being enough to intimidate even the most rebellious of ex-members (there were rarely any left breathing) into staying quiet. Perhaps even joining their circle once more.
To every meeting he ordered, seating before rows upon rows of men and women and everyone in-between—bowed at the waist reverently between who they saw as a deity himself.
Because in many ways, he was.
And here you were as a mere human before him: on your knees, mouth gaped as he trickled out more ropey splashes of cum.
Such sheer volumes of it flooding the cavern of your mouth, ending up dribbling down the sides of your lips in satiny ribbons. After he finishes tuggin’ his swollen cock a few more times to milk out his final beads of cum, Geto taps his blushing tip straight on your lips, your tongue, your cheek - just to watch your expression threaten to contort in surprise.
And then he’s setting his length free and bringing down a hand to cup your chin.
The roughened fatness of his thumb wipin’ away a glittering bead of syrup. “There, there…” Geto hums, “Think that pussy’s sorry enough now, gorgeous?”
You attempt to speak, but your mouth’s too full. “Mmm—mmpf.”
“That’s what I thought.” He snickers meanly to himself. And before you know it, that thumb of his that’d been nicely roverin’ down the edges of your stained lips starts pushing inwards- starts pushing his digit deep inside your sloppy mouth and reaching for the very back of your throat. It makes some predatory part of him sing with glee to watch your eyes tear up, and your nose crinkle at the intrusion. “But I don’t know…I still don’t think she’s sorry enough.”
Your eyes shoot open, lashes heavy with tears.
Still not sorry enough?
Still not sorry enough?
Where did this even begin—all because you’d had the audacity to fake it.
It’d been another night cooped up in Geto Suguru’s grand quarters, which had quickly become your favorite area of his hideout, and he’d been fucking you long and hard aaaaaall night. He’d been keeping his ravenous tip lodged nearly where your throat was, and driven you crazily over the edge more times than you could count.
And as a result of that, maybe you’d gotten a little…sloppy.
Before you knew it, Geto was tappin’ away at your clit with his thumb- intending to send you both hurtling into your highs. But being so overstimulated, you couldn’t help but put on a little show faking it- hell, you weren’t even sure whether you could catch on at this point.
Yet you should’ve known that the incredible senses of a cat hybrid would always know.
Always.
And so here you were: with your mouth stuffed till the brim, time and time again, in punishment for attempting to con the leader. Whilst your cunt throbbed away animalistically between your legs-
“I can smell that ungrateful pussy of yours growing wetter.” The hybrid’s keen nose twitches- sweeter. The room seemed to get so much sweeter - like a candy factory - whenever you grew more aroused.
“I- hck! can’t help it…” With monumental effort, you’re speaking through the fingers he had probing between your kiss-swollen lips.
“Yes, you can.” He spits. “Does that ungrateful pussy think she deserves my cock?”
You can’t stop yourself—you’re nodding and nodding. Resting on the heels of your feet and grindin’ back against those mounds - it’s the only sort of friction you’re able to get right now. And by the way that Geto’s dexterous tail was swishing from side-to-side, then it seems that he didn’t quite appreciate that, either…
And so with such a mean snarl upon his handsome face- he pulls out the thumb that’d been massaging your tongue. Getting sucked. And without a single warning, Geto grabs the back of your scalp and rams your mouth down his cock- all the way till the base. Until the tufts of his jet-black hair was scraping your nose, and you’re moaning needily around him. You needed him so badly.
“Tch- seems she really does want my cock.” With raised brows, Geto looks down at where you were pushing n’ pressing yourself against your feet. How it covered every single spot your pussy touched with a glistenin’ layer of slick. “Fine…”
Your eyes shoot open. Looking up at him pleadingly—
“Fine, that silly pussy can have my cock…” Geto’s grip on you grows even tighter - searing. “She can have my loooong, thick cock.” He leans down to whisper in your ear, “But she better know that I am very angry at her.”
And then you’re being pulled off his hard erection with a pwah!
Soon enough, you’re finding yourself laid flatly against the leader’s futon.
His powerful hips pinning yours down, his long hair loosening around the two of you like a curtain- his muscular tail keeping one of your legs pinned to the side as he presses your thighs open n’ shovels you with his ravenous inches.
From the glistening crown of his shaft—down, down, down until those familiar curls surrounding his hilt.
Geto fucks you like he’s furious at you-
Like he’s aiming to leave a few purple bruises on that cervix of yours, like he’s stretching out your walls so they remember his exact size. He wants you to feel him between your legs even after he’s pulled out - maybe that’d be enough of a reminder to keep your damn pussy in line. And even as he thinks about it, the cat hybrid’s hastening his hips.
Piston after piston after piston.
His fingers dart upwards to grab at your clit- and you’re genuinely sobbing as he squeezes it. Somewhere in the muddled rationale of your brain, you’re sure that he’s fucking you just to make you cry.
With his other hand, Geto brings that spit-coated thumb up to his mouth n’ licks it clean. Then his lip curls, “Disgusting. This fuckin’ pussy doesn’t even deserve what m’giving her.” Pinching your throbbing nub once more, “Does she?”
“I-I—” You bawl. “I don’t-”
“What’s that?” Another pinch. “Say it louder so that she’s hearing too-”
“I don’t!”
“Damn right.” Geto twitches his nose once your cunt simply grows even wetter, “Hear that?”
Whatever noises he’s wrenching from between your legs as he fucks you- it seems to be enough of a answer to him. And then he’s hitting your sodden womb with a smack!
“Shouldn’t even be fucking her- tch, not after she went against her leader.” Geto muses to himself, “She should be thanking the- hah, universe that I’m just in rut.”
Cold water pours down your body - or perhaps that was just Geto’s sticky precum dribbling out in puddles. “You’re in rut?” You gasp.
“Problem—?”
“N-not at all.” In fact, you’re spreading your thighs apart and bucking into his battering thrusts. Even more. Such greed; despite how well Geto was fucking you…you’re still yearning for more of him. Lashes fluttering with tears, you don’t think you’ve ever been more honest in your entire life as you plead—“I want you to f-fuck me until you’re shooting blanks—” Reaching around his toned waist and tuggin’ on his tail. “-Suguru.”
His breath hitches.
And then he purrs.
“Fine, you’re forgiven…” Before elation can hit you, he twists his fingers on your sodden clit. Hard.
“O-oh-”
“-if you squirt f’me.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - RUT RUT RUT.
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris
He couldn’t help himself.
He honestly couldn’t.
Choso Kamo has no idea what’s gotten into him.
One morning, he’s waking up with the most painful boner of his entire life—and it seems that you’d gone out to the store bright n’ early. So that’s no big deal. Shit happens. He could handle it all by himself: he’d flounced out of bed and headed straight into the bathroom for a cold shower - having his own hand wrapped around his cock wouldn’t feel nearly as good as having yours.
And so that problem had been taken care of.
Or so Choso had thought.
The next little (not-so-little) issue had popped up almost immediately after he’d exited the shower.
All freshened-up, Choso was drying his shoulder-length hair with a towel as he walked into the bedroom. And then he’d seen it.
Then he’d mindlessly cast his gaze around the room and ended up dropping it onto…the bucket of laundry that he was meant to fold today. And other than the nagging guilt of putting it off, he’d been fixated on one thing: the lacy black panties that you’d left on top of the pile.
Without thinking twice, Choso’s hybrid tail was wagging. Without thinking even once, Choso’s hand had cast out and grabbed it.
And brought it to his face to sniff—
Then lo and behold, he was sporting an utterly painful boner that made the hybrid rush straight back into the bathroom. Except…this time, it was one that couldn’t be willed away no matter how many cold buckets of water he poured over his head, no matter how many times he thought about unsexy practices like taxes or…basically anything that wasn’t related to you, or anything you wore, or anything you said.
He’d been forced to wrap a guilty hand around his cock and jerk himself to ecstasy before he could leave the bathroom again.
This time, as long as he avoided looking at your panties on the laundry pile, he was able to leave the room without popping a boner.
Kidding.
Choso Kamo made two steps before he was feeling something akin to withdrawals—and soon enough, he was finding himself elbow-deep in the laundry bucket, shuffling around to hunt each and every pair of panties he could find. And then—and then he was speed-walking to the laundry room itself, grabbing every single scrap of overpriced lace he could find: washed and unwashed.
Dropping it all down on the bed before tearing his shorts down and pulling his cock raw. Tail wagging. Palm red. Mouth gaping open.
What was happening to him?
What was happening to his body?
Why was he feeling so…
But no matter how many times he was cummin’ all over your scattered panties on the bed - it still wasn’t enough for him.
And that’s the state you found your poor, poor boyfriend in when you came home.
.
.
.
Squelch!
“J-just a little more…” Choso’s voice comes out botched. Hot breaths sticking to the column of your neck, making the skin ‘round that area feel sticky.
Everything about this was such a mess.
Such a mess.
The bedsheets sticking to your back. The cum flowing between your quivering legs. Even Choso’s movements- the smallest, sloppiest semi-thrusts that were all he could manage. Anything more and he was on the verge of cumming blanks—so now he merely had his ruby-red tip stuffed between your pussylips n’ delicately shifting your sweet spots aside.
Large tears start up at his waterline and end up flowing down his cheeks. “Just a little more and I think m’gonna stop, baby.”
“No need to rush, Cho.” You coo reassuringly from beneath him. Reaching one hand up, you wipe away some of Choso’s tears. “Take as long as you need.”
His hybrid tail wags behind him as he takes in your words. You always did treat him so tenderly.
“Yes, but I p-promise…” He whimpers. Such a sweet, sweet noise hatching at the back of his throat as he bucks his hips backwards- n’ draws a gluey vertical line down the expanse of your cervix. “Just one more and m’gonna- hck! stop.”
“Of course.” Pushing back on the dark brown bangs that stuck to his forehead, “But remember that you’re in rut, baby. I don’t know if it’ll- haaah, end so easily.”
“But I’ve gotta.”
Voice cracking.
Desperate—just so desperate.
His hips are stuttering forwards at an incredible pace, lashing out into every hidden ridge n’ crevice deep inside you. Even more powerful because of his hybrid status. The toned edges of his pelvis are practically gluing to you—feeling sleek all over with a layer of sheen that escapes from the top of his ruddied tip. Even though Choso wasn’t exactly cumming at the moment, he was bawling out such volumes of precum that made it feel as though he was. And he thumbs it inside you with a whimper.
“I n-need to. This has to be the last one.” Almost breathing. Almost speaking to himself rather than you. He continues between punctured thrusts, “You wanna know why? Otherwise m’just gonna keep cumming, baby…”
Your eyes widen. “What do you mean, Choso?”
Hiccups crackle at the back of his throat. His ears start to droop.
And with a trembling expression, Choso thumbs in the last of his translucent sap. Then he’s holding onto the base of his cock and funneling you with it- you think he might be holdin’ onto himself to better guide his probing tip into your sweet spots…but no.
No, you’re quickly coming to realize that Choso was grasping onto himself solely because he needed to stop himself from cumming so much. Needed to.
There’s a twitch between his eyebrows, and he bites down on his lower lip as he waves off yet another high. “I-I just can’t seem to stop.” And it wasn’t just that pussydrunken tone of his - Choso sounded absolutely gone, ruined, wrecked by this point. “I don’t know what’s gotten over me—but I just wanna fuck you all full until I physically can’t cum anymore…”
“Oh—” Your moans are long and hollowed.
“I just wanna start shooting blanks- maybe that’d get me to stop fucking you finally.” Between the slurps and squelches of your cunt gulping him up, he manages to echo his words. “It’s just so addictive, baby…” Pulling out the raw, sap-glossed edge of his shaft- he draws a few hearts on top of your pussy before funneling back in. “I just wanna fuck you like a damn dog-”
“Oh!” Because at that very moment, Choso leans forwards and bites a good marking at the crook of your neck. “Easy there, boy.”
Hips only speeding up. Hips only milking himself even more…“I just wanna watch my girl’s pussy get covered in my cum. Flood with it.” He sniffles, “I just wanna ngh- fuck you and fuck you—” Attacking your mouth with a sloppy, passionate kiss. “-again and again and again- I can’t fucking stop myself.”
And Choso had long since been pussydrunken- his rut just made him extra-sensitive to those lecherous sensations.
But now you were almost as cockdrunk.
Jaw dropping. Heels hooking around his waist. Pupils shaping into hearts—Choso takes one single look at that expression, and his entire body’s wracking in visceral shivers.
That animalistic side to him taking over as he fucks you long and hard- “Baby, I think m’gonna cum again soon…” He whispers in your ear. “And after I cum again- ngh, m’gonna need you to put me back in my senses before I go another round. And then another—and another. Because soon enough m’gonna be fucking you for daaaaaays.”
“I don’t mind.” You mutter, more to yourself.
“What was that?” He asks.
And you’re shaking your head: you knew that Choso thought you couldn’t take it with your human stamina. He wanted to go for days. You wanted to go for days…“Nothing at all.” Hooking your arms around his neck, “Cum inside me, baby.”
It takes only a few more vulgar strokes before he’s finishing off—so overstimulated by this point that it’s just a few pearly-white beads of sap. Just a few trickles of hot cum. Before nothing more can escape out of him- and Choso’s merely bucking into you for pleasure, riding out the dry waves of his orgasm. Cumming dry.
Peak after peak.
Rollin’ his dried-up cock into your gooey depths.
He shakes as his bliss overcomes him. The prettiest tears dripping down his cheeks and hanging off of his pointed chin.
Soon enough, he’s fucked himself limp on your perfect pussy.
And all it takes is a mere nudge to flip your positions; with Choso seats back against the pillows, and you straddling his reddened hips. Bouncin’ your cunt down his thick cock.
His eyes damn-near bulge out of his skull. Though you can see his long tail wagging happily- “But baby, can you—”
“I can take it.” You smirk. “So be a good puppyboy f’me and beg.”
“W-woof…”
A rut could last a week.
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Easy, Tiger…
Hybrid type: Panthera tigris
Now, it was no secret that your boyfriend is a tiger hybrid.
Endangered. Enormous. The rarest amongst even the rare hybrids; his striped tail and broad figure drew stares wherever the two of you went. Often, onlookers were torn between admiration and intimidation as they gazed upon the great hybrid- the great hybrid that caught their stares, crumpled them up, and flung them right back at them at 308 mph with a single glare…
Needless to say, Ryomen Sukuna’s temper was one befitting of a tiger hybrid.
And most people knew not to mess with your boyfriend. Most people knew not to so much as nudge his patience.
Except for you, that is.
“Meow for me, Kuna.” You didn’t care if you got on his nerves.
“Fuck off.”
“Pleeeeease—?”
“What sort of fuckin’ tiger hybrid meows?”
You’re seated on Sukuna’s lap while he tries to work on some ol’ project; knees straddling his waist, back facing his laptop, and your fingers dug into his coral-pink hair. It was just so soft and bouncy underneath your touch, and soon enough your hands found themselves edging into the sinuous area of his ears.
Tiger ears.
“H-hah…” He shivers. “Watch your hands, woman.” Comes Sukuna’s low snarl. His breath tickles the column of your neck, and in your peripheral vision you see his long canines point. “Y’know damn well that I’m sensitive there.”
“Oh, are you?” With a dramatic gasp, you’re turning to face him. And laughter bubbles to your throat as you notice the irritated tick in his jaw already. “Sensitive? And here I thought you were some big, bad tiger hybrid.”
Sukuna looks at you incredulously, “Damn right I am.”
“Oh yeah?” And then your fingers are gliding up the mountains of his ears. Right from the base, and then up to the very tip-
“H-hey—fuck.” A carnal shiver wracks through him, and Sukuna’s striped tail sways from side-to-side behind him. “That doesn’t prove anything?”
And then right back down again—and then…fuck, and then you’re finding that good spot behind his ears that makes him shutter his eyes and lean into your touch. Like some damn housecat, Sukuna’s letting out a slow, satisfied purr as your fingers continue their fatal ministrations. He’d slap himself if it didn’t feel so good.
Through the slight gaps in his vision, he spots a victorious grin spread across your pretty lips. “Meow f’me, Kuna.”
Leaning deeper into your touch. His lips purse, “M-me…” And then Sukuna’s eyes shoot open as he realizes just what he was about to do.
Just what you were close to making him do.
A fucking tiger hybrid and he’s meowing for you?!
Now that can’t be.
Before you know it, one of Sukuna’s large, bulky hands reaches up and smushes your cheeks together- how cute. Those honed nails of his prickle over your skin - just light enough to send goosebumps scattering - and then he’s running it down to grab you by your throat.
“You exceed your limits, brat.”
You smirk n’ lean down to kiss him on the nose. “Easy, tiger.”
And the thing is…Sukuna’s heart jumps to his throat - and his cock - the moment he reads that expression on your face. The type of smugness that told him- you wanted to be fucked back into your place.
He huffs. Silly little human—
Just a few minutes later, the massive hybrid has you stood and shoved against the edge of his work desk. Polished oak pushing against your body, Sukuna’s front pressing into you from behind; even the slightest squirms mean you can feel his erect cock. Those important documents his assistant, Uraume, told him were confidential go flying everywhere the minute he’s clawin’ aside your sodden panties- ripping them.
Giving his rock-hard erection a good squeeze before shoving down his grey sweatpants and shovelling himself raw.
Not the barest bit of stretchin’ out your elastic hole. Before you feel himself fitting in until the very hilt-
“Oh-ohhhh—” Your hands are shooting out in front of you, dragging faint nail marks into the wood. Mouth dropping agonizingly as the delicious curve of his length starts smearing down your goopy walls.
Just a single semi-thrust. Just a lurch of his globular tip- swipin’ down every sweet cranny and orifice without even trying. Your back arches into him, “Kuna, that feels so- mmpf!”
Before you know it, one of his large hands comes up to cover your mouth. “Shut it, girlie. M’trying to make you meow for me.”
Lashes fluttering, “M-me?”
Yet another rugged slam! The luscious tip of his shaft opens up every crevice and seeps hot precum into your every pore. Sukuna always managed to fuck you so agonizingly well—and even now, he was rendering your body weak and tremblin’ with just a few hits to the back of your pussy. Back and forth. Back and forth.
One of his roughened hands glides down your back until it rests on the base of your spine. Arching you even more.
The sensual end of his shaft curved up juuuuuust a little upwards and dragged his drivelling tip down the roof of your cunt. And you can’t help but moan out-
“Now now.” A slam of his left hand down on your stuffed pussy. Sukuna cranes his head to the side and watches those bloated lips of yours quiver- adorable. “What did I say about you stayin’ quiet?”
“I-I didn’t realize you were seriou- mmm.” He’s pressing his right palm further against your face.
He whispers, “Or m’slapping this ungrateful cunt once for every word.”
Pushing against you. Pinning you beneath him. Keeping your restless hips in place - no matter how much you’re bucking and begging for more, Sukuna’s the one in control of how his solid, veiny inches were dragging in and out of your pussy. Again and again.
And as he’s pummeling into you as if he was furious—Sukuna spits out mercilessly, “Don’t tell me I’ve gotta fuck you stupid to make you shut up?” His tone was low and dangerous- one of his knees shoves between your legs n’ spreads them even wider for easier access. “Are you this pussy?” When you don’t answer, he’s letting his hips run even deeper and massage your ass cheeks with his scruff of pink happy trail. “Huh?”
Confusion and lust befogging your brain- “N-no…?”
He’s puncturing each syllable with thrusts- honing in deep at the back of your gooey pussy. You’re openin’ up so readily for him. “Are you the one I want meowing?”
Ribbons of spit fall from your lips and soil his palm. “No.”
“And so are you supposed to speak?”
“No-”
“Then why the fuck are you speaking now?”
Even now.
That little—
Your jaw drops as you realize that you’d just been baited into wasting your breath, your words- and your head swivels ‘round to look at him.
And oh, what a sight…
You’re only met with Sukuna’s cocky smile and your stinging pussy being punished with three more consecutive slap-slap-slaps that send shockwaves of pain and pleasure through your veins. The entire expanse of your body seems to be set alight. The tips of your toes are curling inwards-
And as if your body couldn’t have been any more unstable; Sukuna’s powerful tail hooks around your right calf and maneuvers it as if you were nothing but a pretty lil’ doll beneath him. Just the cutest little mewls dripping out of you once his hybrid appendage drags your leg up onto the table and keeps it there—so pliable for him. This sudden change in angle makes his thick, vein-covered cock rover even deeper.
With the burgeoning end of his tip, he’s pinpointing every single nook and bundle of nerves.
“I don’t wanna hear another peep out of you, m’here to listen to this pretty pussy. And I don’t care if I have to fuck you stupid to listen to this kitty…” Sukuna warns. And as your chest heaves, he’s removing his hand from your mouth- you can moan n’ mewl as much as you wanted.
But rest assured that he’s still keeping his claws ‘round your throat and making you whimper as those pointed tips graze your tender skin. Marking you. “I…mmm.”
It’s almost too much for him to handle: watching you chew on the inside of your cheek as you held your words back.
And with a gleeful smile, the tiger hybrid leans back n’ coos at your pussy - folds glistening with the excess of his precum clinging onto you, the outer edges of your cunt bloated from how many times he’s slamming and slamming against them. Until the area of his pelvis burns red. “Heeeeere kitty kitty~” You’ve never heard him speak to you like that…“This girl here’s jealous because m’giving you special treatment. Why don’tcha show her who owns this cock?”
“Kun- oh.” Pressing your lips together as the fire starts sizzling at the pit of your stomach.
“Because you do own this cock- me, don’t you?” Giving you yet another spank! “I’d meow for you.”
“Pussydrunk…” You mutter- only to be hit with another barrage of slap-slaps that were just pushing you closer towards the edge.
“Why dont’cha make a scene? Make some noise f’me?” And then his left hand dips between your legs and ends up grazing between your pussylips. Finding that button of your clit. “Why don’tcha meow—?”
And all it takes is one squeeze- one.
Before light explodes behind your closed eyelids - when did you even shut them - and you’re suddenly being propelled into your high. Your orgasm thunders between your legs n’ shoots hot dopamine through every vein, vessel, and atom.
It takes over your body in a wave- harsh and fast.
And as the torrents of it take over you, Sukuna’s keeping a firm hand latched onto your pussy and rolling over your throbbing clit. Meanwhile his cock accelerates in and out to bash you through every incredible peak.
“Yeah- yeah.” Sukuna hisses into your ear, breath scorching enough that it causes your surrounding skin to perspire. The space between you two was non-existent and sizzling. “Yeahhhh, feels pretty good, huh?”
His tiger tail pushes down on your restless leg- keeping you hiked up. And Sukuna’s ruthless hits only get more and more accurate by the second: your g-spot was likely reddened n’ stinging from the inside.
“Feels nice to meow? S’this what you wanted so bad—” Those sweet, sweet noises of you getting even wetter as he fucked you through your orgasm…like music to his ears. “And awwww, look at that- heh…” Sukuna’s thumb taps down on your pulsating clit, “She’s even purring f’me.”
The two most prominent veins down his shaft make you mewl as he’s bouncing off every good spot. And you claw down his table as you keen—“Y-you’re going to- oh. M’gonna get you back for this, gonna milk you dry just wait and watch.”
Without a second of hesitation, you reach up and graze your fingertips across his twitching ears.
And at that very moment, you feel his bulging cock swell even impossibly bigger inside of you.
He purrs, hybrid tail pulling you both closer together. “Easy, tiger.”
♡ INO TAKUMA - LET THE DOGS OUT!
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris
“You’re wrong.”
“I’m right.”
“You’re wrong-”
“I’m wrong.”
“You’re right-” Ino blinks. “No, wait—”
But you’re jumping on it just as quickly. “Awww, thank you for telling me what I already know, Taku.” You’re running your hands through his tawny golden hair, scratching behind the hybrid’s golden retriever ears- dammit, you knew he was weak for this. How evil….
And he can only manage out a half-hearted growl.
To which you’re raising your brows, and it’s enough to make Ino nuzzle the crook of your neck. Hiding the pretty pout that was surely taking over his lips by now.
“Down, boy.” You smirk, “So you agree with me that cat hybrids are better, huh?”
“No!”
Before you can get out anything more, he’s clawin’ onto your oversized t-shirts. Pawing you. Placating those traitorous words of yours by pressing his heated body even closer.
Ino mutters, “And I can prove it, too.” So determined.
If there was anything that Ino hated more than those damn cat hybrids with their feline sneakiness and obsessive preening; then it was your admiration for it. Your attention. And though he knew that part of you was teasing - quite successfully, at that - you didn’t expect a golden retriever hybrid to act normal about it, did you?
Chuckling, “And how’s that?”
Oh, you knew you were in for it.
Because no matter how cute cat hybrids could be, nothing could ever compare to how possessive puppyboys were.
.
.
.
“See? See—?” Ino’s tone was utterly botched; husky and cracking embarrassingly towards the very end. Unstable. There was a carnal nature to it that just made the hairs on your body raise- and no matter how desperately you’ve heard him speak before, nothing could compare to this.
As he’s holding- practically gluing your hips down onto his.
Skin against skin. Hot sweat gliding between the two of you.
Letting the blushing, bulging tip of his cock swab inside his eighth orgasm of the night. The miry ribbons of his sap layerin’ around his inches and getting pushed in even deeper—or at least attempting to.
Ino had cum so many times tonight that he was having a hard time keeping it all in.
In and in—again and again. A few beads of his cream-white cum foams between your legs and makes the hybrid’s nose crinkle- he’s reaching his left hand up and pushing the excess inside with his thumb. “See? Feel me filling you up with so much cum? All the way until…” Reachin’ up just a little and pushing down on your stomach, he watches as it makes the wads of cum stuffed inside you empty out. “-you’re just bloated with me.”
Making an even bigger mess for him to pretend to have to ‘clean up’ or something or the other.
And you’re feeling so good- Ino’s curvaceous tip was smoochin’ around your sweetest inside. Your most sensitive parts. “Mmm, yeah. Fuck- I can feel you so deep inside.”
“Right from these pussylips…and right up to your womb.” Ino sputters out. And it’s a sheer wonder that he could even string together coherent sentences at this point—just that pussydrunk. “I’ve m-made my mark eeeeeverywhere on this pussy, sweetness.”
“M-made your mark?” You giggle- he was just speaking nonsense. But it was just so cute how earnestly Ino meant it.
His long, doe-like lashes fluttering. His beautiful brown eyes tearing up. His lips quivering the slightest bit every time your walls were clenchin’ and milking him; draaaaagging sloppily from the girthy end of his base and up to his slender tip. “Mhm-” Nodding and nodding- the clapping noises of his hips meeting yours just speeds up. “So that even when m’cleaned out of you, you’re gonna feel me- gonna feel empty without me.”
“Oh…” Your maw drops.
And he’s immediately lurching his dazed head upwards and planting a direct thwack! of spittle between your gorgeous lips. “Even these lips. You’re gonna miss me- ngh, s-stuffing these pretty walls full. You’re gonna miss the feeling of me here—”
Mazin’ between your clingy walls, entering his swollen head into your womb.
“-begging for pups.”
“Baby, you’re pussydrunk-”
Though the words don’t seem to reach his buzzing ears.
“And any other fuckin’ cat hybrid-” He spits out those last two words like venom. Teeth just a little bared. “-are gonna know. They’re gonna smell me on you.” Hybrids, in general, always did have more heightened senses than humans. “They’re gonna sense me. They’re gonna know that Ino Takuma has been here—that he’s made this pussy his before any of them could.”
Lovingly, Ino’s patting your bloated pussy- plap-plap!
You’re so wet that beads of sap n’ cum end up smeared across his fingertips. And he’s skating them down your crevice to pinch at your throbbing clit.
His hybrid tail wags beneath him; you could sense the sheets shifting as a result. “And they’re gonna know…” Ino’s mouth waters just at the notion. “-that I’ve been a good boy for you.”
Your breath hitches at the feeling of something building, and building, and building deep within you.
It’s accumulating with every single ruthless slam! that he was honing out. Hitting every tender area- your g-spot was aaaaaching for touch every single time Ino pulled back to reel in again, just addicted to him already.
And soon enough, you’re finding yourself meeting his every thrust with a needy bounce.
Making your hybrid boyfriend beneath you get pushed up and down the creaking bed- his ears twist in ecstasy when you accelerate. “Now, I wouldn’t say that…” You murmur, and without a single warning—you’re reaching up and tugging on one of fluffy ears. “-you’ve been a real bad boy, Taku.”
“B-but I am better than any cat hybrid… And then his voice is breaking- and Ino Takuma is shattering into his ninth high of the night.
Honestly, it doesn’t even feel like his ninth high.
It feels like five at once. Harsh bouts of pleasure thrum through his body; making it feel as though every single droplet of blood he possessed was rushing out of his limbs and collecting at the very tip-top crown of his shaft. That blushin’ rouge tip just pouring out sticky wads of cum into your deepest depths, sliding them along his heavy inches and into your squeezing walls-
Ino babbles away stupidly as he cums- “I thought I was a good boy.” He hiccups, his lower lip quivering delicately. “Thought I was—ngh, better than…oh.”
And then he’s planting both feet on the navy-blue sheets and arching even deeply up into you.
Desperately.
He was practically wrenching your next orgasm out of you.
You’re letting out a brief whimper at the sudden shockwaves of bliss overtaking you - rendering your vision a little bleary, and your toes curled in pleasure.
And through the fogginess that curls around your brain, you’re able to witness how his long lashes start to dapple in tears. Huffing, “So mean t’me, pretty…”
You snicker, “Only because I love you, Taku.” Leaning down to kiss him tenderly- “You know I can stop the joking around if you want?”
“No…” He shakes his head. “When you’re mean to me it makes me hard.”
Oh.
And what else were you supposed to do; but hum thoughtfully to yourself as you reached out and shuffled in the bedside cabinet? Bringing out that bright-red collar that he loved so much? Snagging it around Ino’s pretty throat and watching as his Adam’s apple bobs-
“Then why don’t you act like a good boy f’me, hm?”
Ino gulps. “Y-yes, ma’am.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - #PUSSYPOWER!
Hybrid type: Panthera uncia
Two words: Snow Leopard.
If there ever were a breed of cat hybrids that drew more attention than a Snow Leopard, then Gojo Satoru would find them and throttle them himself.
Kidding…of course.
But that’s to be said: there were reasons that he was the most talked-about man on campus, among both humans and hybrids alike. He was the frat president of Curses Epsilon, he was tall (6’4 on a bad day, according to the man himself), he was beefy, he was accomplished in a plethora of sports and physics academics of which medals and certificates lined his fraternity bedroom. Did he mention he was president of Curses Epsilon?
Even those dog hybrids that seemed to have a perpetual grudge against the feline type had to admit that there was something eye-catching about him.
Blue hair. Impish smile. White hair—the sole reason that white hair started trending- and even those proud grey wolf hybrids started dying their hair to match him.
At least according to him, that’s the reason.
All in all, the point was that when Gojo Satoru had asked you out - after an entire semester of crushing on you during Professor Yaga’s lectures, sitting in the row behind you - you said no. And he’d damn-near had a heart attack—so did just about everyone in the vicinity that heard you. You just rejected Gojo Satoru himself.
Were pigs about to fly?! They shifted awkwardly in the distance.
And looking at the crestfallen expression on his face, you couldn’t help but explain…you’d never dated a cat hybrid before. You didn’t know if you’d mesh well.
But he’d promised.
He’d promised that it’d be no different. Whatever other hybrids you’d dated in the past - whatever snakes and eugh…dog hybrids - he’d be even better than them.
He’d treat you so much better. He’d fuck you so much bett—
You’d slapped a hand over his mouth and stopped him right then n’ there. And sweeping a look at the people around you two - you find that they were pretending to be far more interested in the surrounding flooring or their textbooks in order to overhear your conversation - you promised that you’d go out with him. Just one date, you’d said.
Glee shone in his eyes—so bright that you almost had to look away.
That one date at some rundown campus coffee shop had turned into two. Two dates had turned into three. Three dates had turned into four-
Then lo and behold, you found yourself dating the most talked-about man on campus. Which seemed like a null title considering it was university, but then again this was Gojo Satoru.
And a relationship with him had been just as electric as you expected.
Especially when it was around a month in- and Gojo had come to your apartment after a four-hour long lecture. Ready to rant about his day. Ready to fall into your bed and sleep Gakuganji’s no-good assignments off.
But a single step inside and…and he’d raised his nose into the air.
He’d taken a deep sniff.
Pupils becoming pinpoints. Fluffy tail swishing from side-to-side.
Beneath the usual lemon-scented spray that you’d use to clean your glasses, there was something…more. Something…different. It was something carnal and alluring—and it was coming from right between your legs as you walked out to greet him. Your pussy smelled strangely, irresistibly sweet to the hybrid.
Gojo Satoru looked at you and a jolt ran through your body at the expression on his face. Primal.
.
.
.
“Heeeeere, kitty kitty~”
You yelp—
And before you know it, your hands are clawing at the twisted-up blankets as you’re dragged back. Fucking dragged back into the hybrid’s mounted body, his hot breath plastering against the side of your neck- where you’d been bitten n’ marked raw. “Wh-where do you think you’re going?”
Your jaw drops.
Gojo’s tone was hitched. Gojo’s tone was on the verge of ruins.
It was unsteady at the ends of his words- and there was a sort of crazed tinge to it—just like the rest of his body, Gojo’s voice was trembling. Wound tight and on the verge of breaking. For the most uncountable time tonight, he shovels his ravaged cock between the cute crevice of your pussylips- and finds himself letting out an agonized whimper.
“Fuh-fuck.” The frat president is letting out. Tail curling ‘round your right calf to prevent you from running any further, tears breaking out across his cheeks. That muscular body of his was often the target of both admiration and envy: broad shoulders, slutty waist. There was so much power held in it as one of the apex hybrids on campus—and yet, right now it was clamoring up onto yours and damn-near collapsing. “Fuck- fuck- fuck.”
Every profanity was punctuated with a torturous drag of his cock inside you. Beneath him, you’re supported only with a single arm of his hooked underneath your stomach- getting thrown ‘round by the sheer force of his thrusts.
It’s been like this for hours since he’d gotten back.
And by now, Gojo was completely and utterly overstimulated.
But there was no way he was stopping any time soon. Not when you were…
“In heat.”
“Satoru, I told you I’m human—oh.” The way his round, ruby-red tip was entering your walls…there was just no way to describe it. There was nothing to compare to how he’d thrust apart your gluey channel and poke that one spot he knew you loved so much. And with a wretched mewl, you’re bucking back into his body. “H-humans don’t have heats, silly.”
His sharpened canines drag across the expanse of shoulder once he dips his head, cat-like ears twitching. “Then what’s that sweetness I smell?”
As if to emphasize his point, Gojo takes a looooong heave.
Nostrils flaring. Eyes growing wilder the more he’s taking in the saturated air- to him, it was an addicting combination of sex, sweat, and something sweet.
Something he couldn’t describe.
Something that befogged his mind and made his eyes roll to the back of his head. A carnal shiver wracks through him.
And it’s not long before his bludgeoning tip empties out a few more ribbons of precum- it’s enough to make warmth seep into your belly. Arousal pangs through your body, and it’s just then that Gojo lurches his head up and looks at you with primal eyes. “See- there. There.” Yet another ravenous push to the back of your pussy. His ears listen for the sloppy songs your pussy was givin’ off. “Your heat just got stronger. Do that again, sweetheart—I’m begging you, do that again for your Toru.”
“I-I don’t even know what you mean- fuck, that feels good.” You yelp.
“Do it again—do I have to get on my knees…?” And after a few more thrusts, he’s emanating out a low chuckle - he really is Gojo, after all. “Well, I guess I already am on my knees.” Knees that were currently being chafed with the constant back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
“You need to shut up and- oh, believe me when I say I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Though you certainly weren’t complaining about the utterly feral way he was fucking you. “I think you’re just in rut- mmpf.”
He’s plastering one of his sweaty palms over your mouth.
And then the two of you are falling backwards; Gojo’s sitting back on his haunches, upright, and taking you with him. He pounds away up into you as he remains seated kneeling—the erect length of his cock splittin’ your pussy apart so deliciously.
Underneath his hand, your maw drops into a lecherous ‘oh’ that makes Gojo remove his palm. And then he wastes no time spittin’ into it.
Watching as his gentle wad reaches deep into your gullet.
The snow leopard hybrid purrs as you babble in response- his deep vibrations thrumming through your body. With the accelerating pace of his hips, you’re merely growing even wetter - sloppily so - and Gojo’s practically drowning in his ecstasy as the scented air intensifies. As it takes over his entire body—practically speaks to him at a lesser, more base level. “These past few days…oh, these past few days I’ve been sensing it building up.”
The past few days? “Sh-shiiiiit.” You’re keening as his clawed hand slides down to press on your stomach- where his thickened cock was spearheading constantly.
“I’ve been smelling it on me- I’ve been jerking myself off to it thinking that it was one of your new perfumes.” And you’re unsure whether it was because of how pussydrunk he was, or purely because this was Gojo Satoru, but he doesn’t show even the slightest speck of abashment when admitting this. “And come to think of it…it’s just your heat, my girl.”
Pushing down even harder- massaging where his bulbous tip edged along your g-spot.
“This pussy’s just been yearning f’me - I can practically hear her yowling for my cock.”
“I’m c-close—” You babble out.
Gojo’s large, fluffy tail wraps around your waist to hold you better to him.
“Oh, what a coincidence. That’s what- hah, she’s sayin’ too.” And with a few more vicious probes into your sweetest spots, you’re propelled into your high n’ Gojo’s fucking you through it maddeningly. He isn’t thrown off by the way you’re splashin’ down his thick thighs.
Squirting.
In great, torrential waves of your orgasm.
It’s coming out in a glittery sheen- down between your legs and plastering across his own skin. Those areas of slammin’ contact between your two bodies are even louder now—plap-plap-plapping as Gojo fucks you through your high.
Every peak and stride. Eeeeveery single height of bliss that sends dopamine pouring into your veins. Somehow, he’s managing to maze his cock into eeeevery single sweet spot you loved- and that’s elongating your orgasm until you’re in tears. “Please- fuh-fuuuuck, just like that. Just like that, just like that- oh, ngh—”
“Make a mess- make a fucking mess, sweetheart.”
“It’s too much- oh.” Back arching. Toes curling. Your heartbeat pounds in your eardrums- and you’re so far gone that you almost don’t notice the way that Gojo himself is cumming.
Though if you’re soaking him, he’s cumming dry - the tip of his irritated shaft twitches like he’s pumping out wads of seed. But what really comes out is…nothing.
Though Gojo really does feel the waves of pleasure that overtake him, even though he’s cumming dry. He’s clenching his pretty eyes shut, he’s letting his mouth quiver- just the cutest whimpers of your name escaping him as your boyfriend keeps rammin’ away his orgasm into you.
So overstimulated.
Gojo lovingly pats your quiverin’ pussy.
“And it’s all thanks to this- hah, heat here.” Gojo murmurs, his fuzzy hybrid tail briefly spankin’ down on your sopping slit before he moves it away. “Managed to make my girl squirt.”
“Heat…” Your nose crinkles, “I really don’t get why you think I’ve been in heat these past few- oh.”
Oh.
It hits you like a semi-truck.
“Satoru, did you mean my ovulation?”
The snow leopard hybrid considers this as he starts buckin’ into a whole new round.
“Ovulation…” Gojo whispers to himself- like a prayer. “Ovulation and I are gonna be besties.”
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Sssstudy time.
Hybrid type: Dendroaspis polylepis
You couldn’t focus.
Maybe it was due to the column of assignments that you’d been (quite irresponsibly) been putting off; maybe it was due to the fact that your snake hybrid boyfriend was staying over and a bit too much of a…distraction.
And the worst part was that he wasn’t even doing anything—Higuruma Hiromi sat quietly at the foot of your bed, leafing through the pages of a law textbook that you’re sure he’d already memorized from cover to cover. Unlike you, the law professor didn’t need to rush through assignments - which meant he was particularly ruthless when handing them out.
A forbidden relationship.
A secret.
The hybrid professor was amongst the most ogled-at on campus.
And it’d taken an entire semester of your prettiest skirts and your flirtiest one-liners during tutoring lessons before Higuruma had finally gone against his personal code to ask you out.
But only after you’d moved on from his class.
And it seems that dating a law professor didn’t give you an edge- but then again, you didn’t start dating him for the edge at all.
Higuruma Hiromi was just too attractive. And smart. And gentlemanly. And hiding a sense of witty humor he rarely revealed to anyone but you.
And it was making you stray your eyes away from the utterly droll except on the rules of estate inheritance. But who could blame you? The man of thirty-two sat with his sternly handsome features pinched into something focused; sleeves of his button-up pushed to his elbows, slivers of his skin somewhat scaly, dark eyes examining the page in a way that made you squirm…
He’d never interrupt your studying. But then again he didn’t have to try.
You sigh.
Law degrees were hard.
Higuruma doesn’t look up from his textbook, “Sssomething the matter, angel?”
“Nothing.” You counter- before realizing that lying to the best lawyer in Tokyo probably wasn’t the smartest idea. “It’s just…I can’t seem to focus.”
“Oh. Why’s that?” He looks at you with his brows furrowed in concern.
You—you want to say. It’s solely because of him that you couldn’t focus.
Not when he’s sitting there so close, and so attractive, and so irresistible- honestly who in their right mind would be able to focus on land disputes and things when it comes to something like this? And though you don’t verbalize your thoughts, you’re sure a part of it shows on your expression.
Because without another word, Higuruma sets his book down on the bed—leaning ever-so-slightly backwards and opening his thick thighs up invitingly. You don’t have to wait for him to reach his arms out and beckon you forwards- you’re already getting up and gladly leaving your assignments behind. “Come here, sssugar. Let me teach you how to focus.”
In just about no time, your clothes are hitting the floor.
As they seem wont to do whenever you’re around him…
But nonetheless, Higuruma soon as your legs positioned atop his bulky shoulders - slightly unsteady given the semi-scaled surface of his skin.
Back arched. Cunt dripping all over the freshly-washed sheets.
Higuruma meets the front of your cunt with his thickened tip, swipin’ it up and down the line of your folds. Dripping wet—you’re letting out the most delicious wet noises once he’s teasing your entrance- just barely probing his swollen cockhead inside, then out…watching as your hole seems to gape and clench around nothing—
In. Then out.
In. Then out.
Before you’re growing far too impatient with his toying- and you’re bucking up deftly into him. “Hiromi, just fuck me already…”
“Just fuck you already?” He tuts, though you could hear the faint amusement in his tone. And then the hybrid’s swatting down two smooth slaps right between your pussylips- making your moans strangle in your throat. “How impatient. It seems I have more to teach you about focus and patience than I thought.”
“Fuck.”
And then he’s smiling down lovingly at you.
Perking his head up, Higuruma reaches up and grabs something off the headboard.
And whilst you’re concentrating on not ogling his forearm muscles too much, he’s producing that jet-black tie of his that’d been thrown off in the hassle to strip yourselves of your clothes. As you watch him in slight confusion, Higuruma nods his head reassuringly down at you - and ties the silk fabric around your eyes.
A blindfold.
“Easy there.” He comforts in that warm baritone of his. You knew that he’d never do anything you didn’t want to do; and seeing him break that cold facade for you was one of your favorite parts about this.
Higuruma was running his hands comfortingly down the sides of your body, he was making sure that blindfold wasn’t too tight—he was ultimately resting his slender fingers between your quivering thighs n’ rolling over your clit. “Eeeeeasy, my girl. Now focus.” You’re nodding before you even know what he’s about to say- and that makes him smile. “I’ll be giving you one of my two cocks, and you have to guess which one it is, okay?”
Because there was another thing about snake hybrids: they had two cocks.
Long and rock-hard. Higuruma’s were blushed the prettiest rouge on his tips- stacked on one top of the other, they were both drivelling out ribbons of precum at the impatience to get inside you. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from the lesson he was drilling into you, but oh…
“Oh, f-fuuuuuck.” Soon enough - even though you can’t see him - you can feel the rotund intrusion of one of his tips. Piercing between your swollen lips and pressing deeper inside.
Deeper and deeper.
It doesn’t take long before Higuruma’s punctuating your goopy insides with thorough, passionate strokes. He just loved sweeping across every sweet spot inside you until it left you speechless—lingerin’ that hot tip of his where your g-spot was, and then lingering on your cervix. Repeatedly, he’s hitting the thoughts out of your mind; though…that’s not entirely what tonight was about, was it?
“Now now…” You’re feeling two gentle slaps to the left side of your face. “Don’t get too fucked stupid already, angel. Focus. Which one is this? Upper or lower?”
“What- oh, fuck.” Whatever response was on the tip of your tongue is fucked away- by the indulged stripes he was drawing at the back of your pussy. Watery saliva pools in your mouth as you feel the stretch of your walls—almost to their limits. “Fuck, it feels so good, Hiro-”
Another slight spank. “I’m teaching you a lesson right now, angel. You refer to me as sssir-”
“Sir-”
“No…” Squeezing at your clit with his other hand.
Startling you. Suddenly making you buck. It makes you bellow out without even trying—“I s-said it feels so good- ngh, sssir.” Slurring your words.
Though that’s exactly what he wanted.
“Good.” And you could practically hear the smile in his words. Though Higuruma doesn’t let up so easily- in fact, he’s doing the complete opposite. “That’s how you need to focus.”
Another small slap to your cheeks, a little harder this time.
You keen.
“Upper or lower, sssugar?” He hisses.
You’re gasping for air. “I-I—”
And Higuruma being a snake hybrid meant that his mushroomy tip would be flared even larger than most hybrid species or even humans. It was the perfect shape: curved upwards, patterned with numerous veins and ridges. The area above his slit was the most delicious mechanism to drag across your inside and drive you absolutely wiiiiild.
And soon enough, you’re bucking up with a moan. “Upper….no, ngh! Lower?” Honestly, it was enough of a feat that you could speak with the way he was ruining your insides so well.
“Wrong.” Higuruma responds simply.
And then you’re feeling him slap your sweaty cheeks- and then plant a harder one down on your incorrect pussy. Before the snake hybrid reels his pelvis backwards—back and back, all the way backwards before his swollen tip is pulling out of your hole with an audible pop! And then funneling back in again.
“Upper or lower?” Higuruma asks once more.
By deduction through logic, you’re gasping- “Lower-”
“Wrong again.”
It was just so cute how your mouth drops at that very second - and the older man can’t help but lean down and give that gaping maw of yours a lil’ slap, too. Just a little punishment.
Before he’s coursing in even harder strokes—more merciless. He was molding your soft insides to the shape of him - both of him - and it made your toes curl just how mean he was being with your body right now. His heavy balls enunciating each thrust with a thwack-thwack-thwack!
How lecherous.
Higuruma alternates between his two lengths at a frenzied pace, dippin’ each one in and out. “Upper or lower?”
“Upp-”
Thwack!
“Upper or lower?”
“I don’t…ngh.” Tears glisten in your eyes and even through the blindfold. “Lower—”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Higuruma ultimately husks out in a lowered tone, “Focus.” Hips brushing yours so hard that it was starting to sting with unyielding contact. “Get this one wrong, angel…and you’re not cumming a sssingle time tonight.”
You whimper, “P-please…”
But that’s not enough to make him take mercy on you—for Higuruma pushes his rugged tip back out with a drawn-out wet sound. And then he’s making you guess once more-
“Upper or lower?”
You’re furrowing your brows underneath the blindfold. You’re squeezing your thighs even harder around his waist in an attempt to feel him better. Hell, you’re even arching your back off the dampened mattress and giving his pistoning cock a good, long squeeeeze—
Scrambling whatever rationality was left within your brain to try and compare the feeling - the length, the upright curve, the thrumming veins - of this shaft relative to the other.
And the answer finally bestows upon you, “Is this…your upper?”
Then he hones out a thrust so loud it slams!
“Correct.”
And for your prize, you’re getting the blindfold taken off you—and the first thing you see is Higuruma’s flushed, handsome face. The second thing you see is his sudden intrusion: hips drawing even closer to yours, he somehow manages to swipe n’ stuff both aching tips inside your hole.
“Now let’s see if you can focus with both.”
♡ IEIRI SHOKO - Cream XOXO
Hybrid type: Felis catus
“Hmmm…” Dr. Ieiri Shoko removes the ear tips of the stethoscope and lets the medical instrument hang from her neck. The clinic’s faux-leather chair squeaks as she sits back; hands crossing in front of her and pinning you down with her deep, intelligent eyes.
You squirm on the examination table.
Something knowing twinkles in her gaze.
Perhaps due to the fact that you’ve been dropping by Shoko’s clinic every other day at this point—as the newest-hired teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High, it was inevitable that you’d be seeing a few more injuries or a bit more cursed energy exhaustion than someone more experienced like Professor Yaga. But this…this was almost getting ridiculous.
And you knew it, after all.
You were the one going there on purpose.
The first time you saw Ieiri Shoko, it was in your first week as a teacher; you’d gotten cut whilst training one of the students. And though your reverse cursed technique was in perfect condition, it seems that the cursed nature of the weapon made it harder for you to counter the damage - and so you’d wound up in the infirmary after a nasty faint.
Waking up to…an angel.
Or so you’d thought.
Tired eyes. A mole at the corner of her eye.
A cigarette sticking out from the side of her mouth- were those even allowed on campus? And sleek, brown cat ears sticking out from her head.
“That’s one way to be introduced.” She’d droned out in her steady voice.
And after that…day after day, your mind kept thinking back to the cat hybrid. Your mind kept conjuring up all sorts of excuses that might allow you to go down to the clinic after classes—
It would be strange to just show up, right?!
Especially since you didn’t know her that long…and thus came the excuses of a stomach ache, of a headache, of a cut that suspiciously vanished once you actually spoke to her. Must’ve been something jujutsu-related, right?
And she took it all in stride.
Which made you think that Shoko actually didn’t mind your intrusions with some made-up disease and a homemade lunch for the two of you to split.
Thus, you were here today.
Squirming as you buttoned up your uniform - it was a potential heart murmur this time…sometimes you had to get creative you suppose - and wondering how to ask the pretty doctor out for lunch. There was this cute new café that opened up down the street, and they were said to have pretty good beer that-
“I counted your heartbeat, y’know.” Shoko says suddenly, drawing your attention. She looks at you with an unreadable gaze- though not unkind. “It was 102 beats per minute.”
“O-oh…” You wondered how you were going to explain that away—“It must’ve been-”
“Innocent murmurs don’t cause heart beats to raise- and in any case, you don’t have one.” She crosses her arms and takes you in your half-dressed state; legs crossing, tail swishing. “You don’t have to make up excuses to see me, y’know? You can just come by whenever you want.”
Damn those cat hybrids- they were always so alluring without even meaning to be.
Unsure what to say, you’re sure you’re sputtering out some pathetic amalgamation of excuses and assurances that you’ll heed her advice next time—heart racing, body heating up, your hands rushing up to button your blouse to regain some dignity, at least…
“Don’t.”
Only to be stopped by the woman of your dreams herself.
Shoko’s gaze was feline, “I like it like that.”
Less than five minutes later, she has you laid-out on the examination table once more. Hoverin’ in the space between your open legs as laps and laps your drippin’ wet pussy.
Her tongue was so looooong and flexible—swirling a few times over your swollen clit before dipping in and out of your hole. So sloppily; she’s making out with the tender edges of your pussy, lipstick smearing everywhere and anywhere she was reaching.
“O-ohhh…” Your back arches against the cool surface of the examination table. Hands grasping bare air. “It feels so good, Sho, keep going.”
And with something that sounds akin to a sensual chuckle- Shoko reaches out and intertwines her fingers with yours midair. You’re just taking the time to admire the beauty in her fingers—so competent in what she does, and painted in a pale lavender. Everything about her was so pretty…
And just as soon as you do - it’s as if she’s reading your mind.
For one set of her fingers guide your own hands to hold onto her head- your hands smoothing down her long hair, scratching behind her twitching cat ears. And the other set of her fingers are stuffin’ your awaiting pussy—teasing apart your elastic entrance and running her smooth fingertips along her walls. “Stay still now, kitty.”
“H-how—?” That was practically impossible when two of her slender digits were rovering inside. So smooth. So steady. She was easing in your first ring of muscle before mazing in deeeeep. “N-not when it feels this good, ngh.”
“I said stay.” She commands, in a slightly more serious tone. Pulling out and slapping your clit in punishment.
And though you’re whimpering in defiance, you follow her words.
Seeing as you’re listening to her, vibrations start running from your core- it takes you a second to realize that Shoko was purring. Mouth curved. Eyes half-lidded - like the cat that got the cream. As a little apology for the spank from earlier, the cat hybrid leans down and gives an open-mouthed kiss onto your clit.
“Good girl.” She hums. “Patients should stay still until they’re feeling better.”
You sputter, “B-but you said I don’t have a-”
“You don’t.” Shoko affirms. She nods a little bit, and that ends up pressing the tip of her nose against your clit- so sensitive that you’re bucking up into her instantly.
Just as quickly, you’re feeling her cold fingertips pang down once more.
“Now what did I say?” Tutting. Shoko might have been the most laid-back doctor you’ve been to in your entire life—but now you see that all the normal sternness went to her in bed. It went into the way she’s spankin’ your pussy three more times - thwack-thwack-thwack - once you’re not replying fast enough for her.
And you’re just barely hanging on- just barely able to babble out. “Y-you said to stay still- ngh, fuck.”
“Hm, I’d call you a good girl for that—” Smile plastered against your sopping wet lips. “-but we both know that’s not true.”
And then she’s roving her digits into sweet spots you hadn’t even known existed- the doctor knew exactly where to hit. In but a mere few strokes, she’d mapped out your cunt as if she’s been eating you out for yeeeeears—and then attaching herself to your clit and hollowing her cheeks sucking as though she hasn’t had a single proper meal in years.
The stimulation is so much- she’s hooking two fingers into the area of your g-spot and you’re immediately bucking. Only to get Shoko’s glossy tail hooked around one of your ankles and ruthlessly plopping you back down-
You weren’t moving a single inch when she was having her lunch break.
“Might just be the worst patient I’ve ever had-” Catching your eye, she reassures with a slick-glistening smile. “Don’t worry, you’re the only patient I’ve given special treatment to like this.”
“Th-thank goodness.”
Yet another spank. “But that doesn’t mean you aren’t the worst. Stay fuckin’ still.”
With a whimper, you’re just taking it.
Every push, every throb, every plunge of her expert hands. But you think her favorite part might be how she kept rollin’ her tongue over your plump, puckered clit - pushing aside your bloated folds and just nagging at it as if it was the sweetest candy.
Shoko kept her lips glued to your pussy, and was tugging and draaaaagging your clit with her teeth—until you were basically numb with pleasure. She’s barely coming up for air.
And once that starstruck expression crosses your face, she’s gurgling out a few giggles. “Atta girl.” A single spank- just to keep you on the edge. “Acting good for me now? Maybe you’re all cured.”
“M-maybe…” You still didn’t even know what she was diagnosing you with-
“Lying.” For a second there, you think that Shoko’s just read your mind—and then, belatedly, you’re realizing that you’d just blabbered those words out loud. So much lustful need coiled around your brain that you were just keening-
“I-I only lied to see you-”
Another spank. “And that’s still lying, isn’t it?”
“I guess—oh.” Another two spanks. Harder, this time.
“Wasting a doctor’s time. Taking up precious resources.” In fact, the best part of her day was seeing your gorgeous face- but every stinging word only left you wetter. And mockingly, Shoko’s shaking her head in disapproval and lappin’ even more fervently at the sweetness of your pussy. That tongue of hers…it was indescribable. “I should be kicking you out of my clinic.”
“No!” You gasp. “Anything but that-”
Yet another spank. Lingering, now.
“What was that?”
You sob, “I-I’m not gonna lie again, Dr. Shoko.”
“Good.” She grins, “Now for something to tamper that sexiness of yours.”
And as she’s hiding her smile between your legs- you’re exploding straight into your high. It’s like nothing you’ve ever encountered before—long and drawn-out, the peaks of your orgasm get even stronger every time she hits your favorite spot. Again and again.
Probe after probe.
Like the manicured tops of her fingertips were magnetized to your bundles of nerves.
Calculating between those peaks, she manages to increase the pressure on your pussy right when it hits the most. Dragging you back by her tail and purring as she nibbles on your clit.
“That’s right.” She mutters. “Cum all over the doctor’s face.”
You’re fully wrung out by the time she’s done with you- and Shoko’s ready to move away with a victorious smile. But before she can do so, you reach out and grab onto her white coat—
Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does.
Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.0k
A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.
“You’ve never what?”
“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.
---
Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you.
He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.
It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.
Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.
The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.
Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any.
“Um, welcome to-”
“Your hair’s funny.”
Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?
Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”
And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears.
After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day.
But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.
Oh.
Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder.
Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.
He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-
“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”
Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.
“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”
“Bye, crybaby.”
And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-
“Big bro, why are you so red?”
Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting.
Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.
“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”
“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter.
Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?”
No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question.
Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-
“Man, are you even listening?”
Shit.
Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.
Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”
God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane.
Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.
“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”
Perfect. Great. Wonderful.
The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?
“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”
Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”
“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is.
Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”
You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust.
Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-
Click!
“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”
You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”
His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”
“Dad, I’m running away.”
That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact.
It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad.
Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-
“You alright, Cho?”
Ah.
Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.”
“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart.
“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”
“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”
“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.
“Cho.”
“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful.
And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.
“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”
“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”
“I don’t know either of you two.”
It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod.
He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”
Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”
“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years.
And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”
Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”
Raising a brow, “What?”
“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”
“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years.
“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”
Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way.
“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’.
Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”
“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”
“Wanna bet, brat?”
“...”
Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet.
Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him.
Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night.
“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.
Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.
“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”
Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him.
“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.
You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”
He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”
Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.
“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-
“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit.
“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you.
You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”
“You know…”
“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy.
“Choso.”
Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted.
Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”
And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”
And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-
“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”
And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole.
“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-
“Use me.”
Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”
“Use me.”
There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch.
And, well, how could you say no to that?
Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth.
And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now.
So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.
You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”
And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard.
Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high.
“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”
The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”
“No.”
You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”
Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway.
“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”
“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss.
Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor.
And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this? He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls.
You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”
“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”
Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him.
“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”
You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him.
He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”
And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass.
“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”
“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good.
“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”
A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”
You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”
“Mhm?”
“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”
Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now.
“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.
“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours.
“Cum f’me, my girl.”
My girl.
And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.
Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base.
“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below.
“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips.
In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now.
“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”
And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years.
Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with.
It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken.
“Crybaby.”
“Cho.”
“Corny.”
“You started it.”
Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go.
“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”
“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”
---
Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More
Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX
-Jin.
Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still
Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX
-Jin.
Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else?
Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk
Kugisaki: *spare
And you just LET him?
Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER
…
AND DID IT ANYWAY
Kugisaki: L
Fushiguro: L
Gramps: L
Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????
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bakugo katsuki explodes when he finds one tiny mark on his neck. “oi, dumbass! now everyone’s gonna think i’m whipped!” (spoiler: he is). meanwhile your body looks like a damn battlefield. neck, chest, thighs, everywhere. he bites like he’s starving but gods forbid you leave one little bruise on him.
midoriya izuku is the softest hypocrite. “k-kaaachan and the others will notice…” he stammers about a single hickie on his collarbone. meanwhile? he gnaws at your skin like it’s a research project, cataloguing every reaction until you’re painted in purples and reds.
todoroki shoto pulls his shirt collar up if you leave the faintest mark. “my father would notice.” but the man bites slow and deep, leaving huge blotchy bruises on your thighs and sides. never admits it, but he loves the sight of you marked.
kirishima eijiro is hella dramatic about the smallest hickie. “bro, now i can’t wear my tank top at the gym!” acts like it ruins his image. but your shoulders and neck? chewed up. he’ll beam with pride if someone notices you’re marked, though.
kaminari denki whines and whines and whines. “babe! now everyone knows i’m getting some!” he whines like it’s embarrassing. meanwhile, you look like an electric storm hit you, bites everywhere. he thinks it’s hilarious when he’s the one doing the damage.
shigaraki tomura snarls if you mark him, “don’t make me look weak.” scratches at a single bruise on his jaw. yet he’ll spend hours littering your chest and stomach with hickies, almost obsessive, like he can’t stop until you’re ruined.
dabi is the WORST hypocrite. smirks like “you think you can put a leash on me, doll?” if you leave one mark. but then he paints you in them, savoring every bruise and bite. total contradiction, total menace.
[𝜗℘] :: older bf!toji is a sucker for you, especially when you wake up the morning after :: cw. smut, pwp.
toji’s eyes aren’t even open yet, his mind barely conscious, but his body can easily sense yours on top of him.
you’re half-asleep yourself and yet your hips are moving on their own—grinding against his pelvis with slowed movements. his half-hard dick is still buried inside your warm cunt, having cockwarmed him to sleep.
“. . . mmh, shit,” toji groans in that sexy morning voice of his. he doesn’t bother opening his eyes, his hands instinctively coming to rest on the curves of your ass to guide your shallow thrusts.
his eyelashes flutter, his biceps flexing as he squeezes your plump cheeks lazily. “nasty little girl. can’t even wait ‘til i wake up properly,” the older man delivers a soft smack to your ass before soothing the sting with a rub.
he opens his eyes barely halfway, yet enough to look down at you snuggled against his bare chest. he huffs—almost condescendingly but with a subtle hint of affection.
you’re seemingly more unconscious than conscious, still lost in deep slumber. despite that, your hips don’t stop their hypnotic up and down rhythm.
“so addicted to my dick got ‘er ridin’ me in her sleep,” toji mumbles to himself before closing his eyes once more. his hands never stop massaging your hips and rear, silently encouraging you to continue.
there’s nothing better than getting his dick wet by his gorgeous young girlfriend first thing in the morning.
★ . . situationship!toji making you cūm mid-argument.
the tv flickers with some random action movie neither of you are really paying attention to.
you’re tucked against your eight months situation ship (?) side on the couch, legs spread lazily over his thigh, his big hand shoved down the front of your loose shorts. two thick fingers are lazily circling your clit, slow and almost absent-minded, like he’s just playing with you out of boredom while he watches the screen.
you’re trying to stay focused on the argument you started five minutes ago.
“i’m serious, toji,” you snap, voice a little breathy despite yourself. “you can’t just disappear for days and then show up like nothing happened. i’m not your fucking doormat—”
“mm,” he hums, not even looking at you. his fingers keep rubbing lazy little circles over your swollen clit, slick sounds barely audible under the movie. “you done yelling yet?”
you clench your jaw, heat crawling up your neck. “no, i’m not done. you always do this shit. you think you can just—”
his middle finger presses harder, dragging slow and firm right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. your breath hitches mid-sentence. toji’s lips twitch like he’s fighting a smirk, eyes still glued to the tv like he’s barely invested in what his hand is doing between your legs.
“keep going,” he says calmly. “i’m listening.”
you try. you realllly do. but his touch is getting more deliberate now, fingers sliding down to spread your wetness before coming back up to rub tight, slick circles on your clit. your thighs twitch, one foot pressing into the couch cushion.
“you’re such an asshole,” you hiss, but your voice is losing its edge. “you disappear, you don’t text, you don’t—fuck—”
toji’s finger speeds up just a fraction, still lazy but consistent, perfect pressure that makes your hips start to roll into his hand without your permission. he finally glances over at you, eyes dark and amused.
“what was that?” he asks, voice low and smug. “i didn’t catch the last part, sweetheart.”
you grab his wrist, but you don’t pull him away. your breathing is getting faster, chest rising and falling as the pleasure builds against your will. “i said… you’re a selfish prick, toji—”
he chuckles, low and rough, and suddenly his fingers move faster, rubbing your clit with firm, relentless strokes. your shorts are soaked, the fabric sticking to you as his thick fingers work you open. your argument is crumbling, words turning into soft, broken gasps.
“yeah?” he murmurs, finally turning his full attention to you. “keep telling me how much you hate me while you’re dripping all over my hand.”
your head falls back against the couch, hips grinding desperately into his palm. the tv noise fades into background static. all you can focus on is the tight, aching heat building fast between your legs.
“toji— fuck, i’m— i’m still mad at you—”
“i know,” he says, almost sweetly, but his fingers don’t stop. he rubs your clit faster, harder, using the slick mess you’re making to glide perfectly over that sensitive spot. “cum anyway.”
it hits you mid-breath.
your back arches off the couch as the orgasm crashes through you, sudden and brutal. your thighs clamp around his hand, hips jerking, a broken moan ripping from your throat while he keeps rubbing you through it. toji watches your face the entire time, eyes half-lidded, that lazy smirk finally breaking across his mouth as you shake and whimper.
he doesn’t stop until you’re twitching, oversensitive and gasping, weakly pushing at his wrist. only then does he pull his hand out of your shorts, fingers shiny and dripping with you. he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean, slow and deliberate, while you try to catch your breath.
“you were saying?” he asks, voice thick with amusement.
you glare at him, still panting, thighs trembling.
“i still hate you,” you mutter weakly.
toji chuckles and leans in, pressing a rough kiss to your neck.
not realizing you’re talking to your ex-boyfriend!sukuna while drunk !
you were way too drunk and the sigma chi house was spinning.
the music thumped through the walls and your head felt light and fuzzy, but you were smiling anyway, red cup dangling from your fingers as you leaned against the wall for balance. your friends had disappeared ages ago and you didn’t really mind.
that’s when you saw him.
tall. pink hair. tattoos crawling up his arms. he looked really familiar but your drunk brain couldn’t connect the dots. you just knew he was stupidly hot standing there by the stairs with his arms crossed.
you stumbled over with a bright smile.
“hi,” you said, voice soft and sweet. “you have the prettiest eyes. like… scary pretty.”
sukuna looked down at you and his eyebrow raised, but he didn’t move away. the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
“yeah?” he asked, voice low.
you nodded, stepping closer until you were leaning into his space. he smelled so good. warm and a little sweet, just like someone you used to know.
“mhm. my ex had eyes like yours,” you mumbled, resting your forehead against his arm because the room wouldn’t stop tilting. “he was mean looking but really nice to me. i miss him a lot actually.”
sukuna stayed quiet, one big hand coming up to steady you by the waist so you wouldn’t fall.
you kept talking, words spilling out easily now that someone was listening.
“we broke up because i thought he didn’t care enough but… he used to do the sweetest things. like bringing me coffee before class or letting me play with his hair even when he acted all tough about it.” you sighed softly. “i think i messed up. i still wear his hoodie to sleep sometimes.”
his grip on your waist tightened just a little.
“you’re drunk,” he murmured.
“super drunk,” you agreed with a little laugh, tilting your head up to look at him again. “but i mean it. he was the best. made me feel safe even when he was quiet and scary. you kinda look like him, it’s weird.”
sukuna let out a quiet breath that sounded almost like a laugh. he guided you through the crowd with a hand on your lower back, taking you upstairs without saying much. you didn’t even question it. his room felt familiar but everything was blurry.
he sat you on the edge of his bed and grabbed a bottle of water, crouching down in front of you so you could drink it. his hand rested gently on your knee the whole time.
“you’re really nice,” you whispered, eyes half closed. “my ex was nice like this too. when nobody else was looking.”
he didn’t answer right away. just brushed some hair out of your face with careful fingers and helped you lie down. when you reached out and grabbed his hand he paused.
“stay?” you asked softly.
sukuna sighed, but it was the soft kind. he sat on the edge of the bed and let you keep holding his hand, thumb rubbing slow circles over your knuckles while you drifted off.
“yeah,” he said quietly, watching you fall asleep in his bed again. “i’m not going anywhere.”
synopsis . In which you foolishly moan the wrong name during sex. content . afab!reader, rough sex, lots of degrading, established relationship, possessiveness, choking, making him mad on purpose, dirty talk, jealousy, manhandling, etc.
"Nngh! Right there, Dabura!" You mistakenly moan out.
"You’ve lost your fuckin’ mind, huuh?" Sukuna drawls out in that raspy baritone that makes your cunt throb addictively around the thick shaft of his angered cock.
The veins decorating his dick bulk in a rush of aggravation at the way your lips fixed themself to utter the name of someone that isn’t the man fucking you to tears right now. He’s already got a hand clasped around your throat and he’s been fucking you from behind for a while now but after you got this audacity to moan some shit that wasn’t his name, Sukuna’s manhandling you down against the sheets roughly and repositioning.
His legs maneuver to straddle yours and he’s got you laying flat on the bed now as he drags his heavy cock out of you for a second, hissing at the slick string of filth hanging between your pussy and his leaking blushed tip.
“Dumb whore,” Sukuna heaves, big hands gripping at the fats of your ass and spreading you nice and open for him just to make sure he’s not going insane because he’s pretty sure he’s the one who just came inside you… not whoever the fuck you’d been moaning for a few seconds ago.
So as he watches this mess of cum dribble out of you in filthy globs, he smirks. For a small moment, his irritation is replaced with this genuine satisfaction.
But when you let out a whine, he’s reminded why he changed positions in the first place. “Cock always has you acting so fucking stupid. Hmph…” He chuffs, eyeing his cum gather in between the skin of your thighs.
Then he moves one of his hands to the base of his dick, aligning himself against your twitching hole again. “And now look at her,” He scoffs and tips his head to the side—watching in awe at that rhythmic quiver of your pussy, simply aching for him to fill you once again. “Missing me already and I only just pulled out…” Your husband only teases you further as he leans his large body forward to whisper against the shell of your ear hotly, “What a needy lil’ slut,” He whispers searingly, “S’selfish too, moaning someone else’s name while I’m fucking you.”
You angle your head just right so that you can meet his gaze and he’s so clearly annoyed, maroon eyes all dark and low on you, his lips stretched downwards into this grumpy frown, and his brows knit together slightly. “I-I didn’t mean to, ‘Kuna,” You try to plead with him with that usual glassy-eyed look and pout combo you give him but you know damn well you’d said someone else’s name on purpose just to get a reaction out of your easily aggravated husband.
He huffs. “Oh? Say that again.” And just as those words leave his hot mouth, his fat cock is nudging in between your sopping folds again with a slow push of his toned hips.
“I didn’t m-mean to,” Your voice practically dies in your throat as he slips into you in this new position—prone bone. You swear you can feel his cock stretching your walls further apart than before, his girth suddenly feeling ten times thicker and causing your lashes to flutter.
Sukuna grouses, “Word for word, slut.”
And he’s still pushing into you, his cock hot against your droopy cunt as you spaz around him. “I didn’t mean to, ‘Kuna,” With a heightened pitched that makes his heart flip in his chest, Sukuna smirks at the change in your tone.
“Mh.” He hums, easing his hips back slower than he’d been pushing them forward, “One more time.” This man is gonna be the death of you…
“I-I didn’t—hnngh..” Your sentence comes out short as he gives you one mean thrust, sharp pelvis sandwiching against the plump fat of your ass and his cock sloppily kissing the very hilt of your pussy. For a moment, you lay there with your jaw slack, fingers curling into the sheets, and another breathy excuse of a moan leaving your lips. “M-Mean to S’kuna,“ You choke out with a drop of your head into the sheets.
Your husband cracks a full smile at that and your overstimulated display. With a tip of his head, he snakes a hand under your limp body and his touch finds purchase right against his cock bulging against your skin. Then he leans down to your ear again, which applies this overwhelming pressure onto both your body and where his cock is nuzzled inside you. “What was that last part?” He whispers.
Drool leaks from the corner of your parted lips and you reply with a moan, “Sukuna…”
Still right against your ear, “Again, louder this time, woman.” He instructs, dragging his hips back again before fucking you nice and tortuously slow—making you feel every single throbbing inch of his cock as he stuffs you over and over.
“Oh fuck—Sukuna-, hahh…” You babble in between his movements. You can hardly think with how full of him you feel. Even with the slightest squeeze your cunt makes around him, it only gets worse for you. He’s everywhere with a hand on your lower stomach, making sure you feel how deep he’s getting, his lips against your ear, and his hips pressed right against your ass.
He’s hardly allowing you a moment to breathe or process.
“Mhmm, what’s my name? Say it again, lemme see.” He huffs, snaking his other hand to your chin just to tip your head back.
As your eyes land on his expression, you notice how pissed he looks, despite the slight softness in his recent words. Drooling still, eyes all wide ‘n glossy, you let out a heavy puff of air in a pathetic attempt to catch your breath. “Sukunaa,” You whine, the syllables flowing from your mouth just as smoothly as your orgasm begins to gush out around his dick.
Your husband smiles, almost as if he were proud. “Uhuh, that’s it.” Then, his head tilts to the side a bit more and he leans down further just to lap up the slick mess trickling down your chin. Lips moving over your wet skin as he whispers deeply, “Who’s cock are you cumming all over right now?”
Sukuna takes things a step further and begins to flick two thick fingers over your clit to coax you through that abrupt orgasm of yours—adoring the desperate spasm and twitch of your body that follows his touch.
Your jaw falls further open and your fingers claw at the bedsheet below, “Ohmygod… Y-Yours, Sukuna, yours.” You gasp, suppressing a filthy choke in your throat just before his hand shifts.
“That’s what the hell I thought. Now open that pretty mouth f’me,” Sukuna instructs, his fingertips prodding at your pouty lips. It’s slow but you part your lips open for him and even push your head forward just to take his digits into your mouth. “Uhuh, suck on ‘em juuust like that. Now you can’t say anymore stupid shit, just sit there and take this dick the way you’re supposed to.”
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frat!sukuna, who first insisted that your relationship was strictly sex, nothing more—with some flimsy excuse about how he doesn’t have the time for a relationship, doesn’t have the time to commit to something that serious, and about how a relationship would only drag him down.
so he does what any good friend situationship?would do—he shows up to your place, fucks you until you can’t remember your own name, and leaves before something in his chest convinces him to stay.
frat!sukuna, who has to have you facing him to cum, something about just looking at your face contort in pleasure while you take him in, the way tears rim your eyes while he thrusts into you languidly—he simply can’t bring himself to cum if he isn’t look at you and your pretty face drunk on his cock.
frat!sukuna, who tries to walk out of your apartment the second he’s done with you, but he just can’t bring himself to do it. so he lingers, hovers around your sleeping form until you finally drag him back under your sheets, calling him ridiculous while he presses soft kisses to the back of your neck.
frat!sukuna, who has your drink order memorised to perfection, always leaving your sugary concoction of a drink on your desk before each class begins with a scrawled on note that says ‘don’t get any ideas.’
frat!sukuna, who never denies anything when his frat brothers start calling you his girlfriend—it’s too much work to correct them, he says, but you don’t miss the way his cheeks tinge the same shade as his hair every single time one of them pats him on the back and calls you his girl.
frat!sukuna, who always has to have you close to him, with his arm slug around your shoulders or wrapped around your waist when he’s near you.
“it’s to make sure you don’t run away.”
“now, why would i do that?”
frat!sukuna, who almost decks toji in the face when he sees him flirting with you, his split lip curled into a girl while you laughed at his stupid jokes and for one second, sukuna’s afraid he’s going to lose this, that he’s going to lose you.
frat!sukuna, who starts tiptoeing around the idea of a relationship, insisting he takes you on dates—taking you out to fancy restaurants and late night bike rides when he knows exam stress starts to take over your brain. he’s spent enough time around you to know everything there is to know, but what sukuna doesn’t know is how to handle a relationship.
frat!sukuna, who’s been treating you like his girlfriend since the start, never skipping aftercare, always being there at your every beck and call—and avoiding every girl that had eyes for him like the plague since he met you.
“good god, did she neuter you, kuna?” toji slurred between drinks while sukuna tried to dodge the sorority girls coming his way.
“shut up.”
frat!sukuna, who’s softer during sex now, worshipping your body endlessly, covering you in soft kisses and bites marks before he eats you out like a man starved.
frat!sukuna, who’s basically a guard dog around you, glaring at everyone who so much as shows even mild interest in you, clinging to you like a needy puppy every second of the day that he possibly can.
frat!sukuna, who has words stuck in his throat every single time he tries to ask you out, always stuttering out nonsense he didn’t mean to say because, what if you turn him down? and what if there’s someone better?
frat!sukuna, who gets you a massive bouquet of your favourite flowers, showing up to your apartment in the dead of night, flowers scrunched in his hand, his chest heaving when he finally asks you out.
frat!sukuna, who tries to hide his flustered face when you finally say yes, spinning you around in his arms while he kisses the top of your head—because after all the mental gymnastics he’s done to have you in his arms, he finally gets to call you his girl.
art credits: @/winterrbluess !
all works belong to @lilithkleii do NOT copy, translate or feed to AI, lest you wish upon toji’s worm to crawl up your ass.
⟢ insanely protective over you, to the point where it’s not even close to being a secret that you two are fucking. this mostly applies to hero work, but it’s really any social interaction.
⟢ he’s not very good with fans, and he gets so visibly irked if anyone tries to flirt with him — baring his teeth and staring daggers. you’re the only thing that he could ever want, even if being in a relationship scares him to death.
⟢ always does favors for you that you didn’t even request, like tidying your apartment, restocking your period products, or bringing your favorite coffee to patrols — he has all of your drink orders memorized. he then proceeds to act annoyed that he went out of his way, but you know that’s just how he shows affection.
⟢ katsuki is a bit mean in bed, but only as much or as little as you want him to be. and he is very vocal.
⟢ he’ll fuck your throat like he hates you, then practically confess his love while he’s between your thighs, eating your pussy.
⟢ he loves doggy, especially if he needs to let out some frustration, but mating press is his favorite by far. he can still pound into you just as hard, but he reaches even deeper in this position and the way you look at him — it’s his favorite thing ever, aside from eating you out.
⟢ how he’s so much bigger than you, seeing your perfect body folded to accommodate him like this, legs pulled into your chest and over his shoulders as he fucks load after load into you .. he can’t get enough. and fuck, he thinks that you are so pretty, the prettiest girl in the world.
⟢ his deep little groans and breaths are so fucking sexy, and he whines anytime that he bottoms out, or when his eyes flick down to watch your cute, tight pussy taking in his massive cock. it’s always a big stretch, but he fits inside of you like you were made for each other.
⟢ drunk sex with him is an entirely different experience. he’s so vulnerable, and everything is so much deeper, and closer … like he’s trying to meld your souls into one.
⟢ he loves when you hold his face in your hands. it’s so intimate to him, and it makes him feel seen and appreciated. he loves the eye contact, and if his mouth isn’t on yours, he’s kissing along your palm and wrist while you hold him. he is so fucking pretty.
⟢ surprisingly good with aftercare considering his personality, especially if he was a bit rougher than usual that night. bath, snacks, drinks, cuddles — whatever you want. secret softie for sure.
is he fucking anyone else? — absolutely not. it took him months (over a year, really) to get comfortable with you, and he sure as hell isn’t opening up to anyone else.
鋭児郎 ⸻ eijirō
⟢ kiri is the sweetest, softest dom ever. princess treatment ALWAYS unless you ask for something different.
⟢ sex partner doesn’t even begin to describe it; his entire being is your safe space, and he always gives you so much praise.
⟢ he knows exactly what you like, which also means that he can use it against you if you’re being a brat …
⟢ EATER — breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, snack. he wants his tongue stuffed in your pussy any time that you’ll let him. he doesn’t care about his own pleasure, only yours, and he will absolutely cum in his pants if he eats you out for long enough, just from your sweet taste and softly grinding his hips against the bed.
⟢ his thick, heavy cock is so sensitive and neglected, but it doesn’t even bother him. he wants his face between your thighs with your dainty hands in his hair, your legs resting over his broad shoulders. he always wants to be your stability.
⟢ he’ll hold you as close as possible — hips, thighs, ass, sometimes folding your legs up and holding the backs of your knees .. and he loves holding eye contact, threatening to stop if you look away. he knows how handsome he is, okay?
⟢ he’s incredibly sensitive to touch. you often feel him shiver when you run your hands through his thick, silky hair. he groans and nuzzles closer to you, whether it’s during sex or just hanging out. he’s such a puppy.
⟢ mating press is his absolute favorite, and he is so fucking good at it; you always cum embarrassingly fast in that position with him.
⟢ he also loves having you on top, but he gets to control the pace. you just look so cute and pretty while you try to ride his big cock, but he almost always has to help you because he’s so much bigger and stronger. he thinks that you’re the most gorgeous thing in the world.
⟢ you love watching his muscles flex under your fingertips. his chest and thighs are both so, so sensitive. he always whines a bit if you kiss and lick him there. cums almost instantly if your mouth so much as brushes his nipples while you’re stroking his cock, and he’ll nearly die if you suck on them.
⟢ the best aftercare you’ll ever receive. loves cockwarming if you’re okay with it, especially in the bath. it’s his favorite thing ever to have his big, thick length at home in your perfect little cunt.
⟢ goes out of his way to make sure that he has your favorite teas and snacks at his place.
⟢ begs u to spend the night every time.
is he fucking anyone else? — nah. this man is in love with you, he’s just too scared to say it out loud yet.
電気 ⸻ denki
⟢ denki is a switch and completely at your whim. his role might change, but he’s always a great time. he is usually submissive to you just because of his personality, but he’s always up for whatever you want.
⟢ you don’t even have to be mean to get him to beg — you could be giving him absolutely everything he wants, being so, so sweet to him, and he’s still a whimpering and crying mess just because he loves to be doted on.
⟢ he loves being choked :( and sucking on your fingers :( insane oral fixation that he usually satisfies by eating your pussy, eagerly fucking you with his tongue and sucking on your clit like it’s candy. he can and will stay there all morning, day, and night.
⟢ he is so good with his mouth, but even better with his fingers; probably the best on this entire list. he perfectly knows how to apply pressure and which spots to hit.
⟢ he loves overstim, both giving and receiving.
⟢ he’s never really acknowledged it, but he loves if you objectify him a little; praising his looks and how good he feels, with just a bit of dumbification and degradation to put him in his place — “nothin’ goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, huh, denks? lucky you’re so handsome, baby, just sit there and be good f’me.”
⟢ CRYBABY, and he’s so pretty when he cries. :(
⟢ accidentally called u mommy in bed once, and will absolutely do it again if you’re into it.
⟢ would give literally anything to be called your good boy.
⟢ his quirk accidentally goes off in bed sometimes. luckily the other boys have much better control over theirs, but denki just can’t help himself when he’s worked up :( you’ve never gotten hurt from it, and it actually feels good if it’s not too strong …
⟢ you’re usually the one giving aftercare because he absolutely will pass the fuck out after sex — mostly because he’s emotionally drained, not so much physically. you don’t really mind, though, because he’s just the cutest and he always makes you feel so good. but he is great at it when he does take care of you. :)
is he fucking anyone else? — yes, but you’re his favorite girl by far. he always reaches out to you first, but, c’mon … we all know that pro-hero denki is a slut.
焦凍 ⸻ shōto
⟢ poor sho. he is such a sweetheart. he’s inexperienced, but he trusts you enough to help him work through some of his relationship trauma.
⟢ it’s been a lot of trial and error so far to figure out your dynamics, but he leans towards being dominant because this man is a giver. but it’s shoto, and he is so nonchalant that he’ll also let you do pretty much whatever you want to him.
⟢ he was definitely quiet at first while you two were getting to know each other. he doesn’t always say much, but he’s gotten a lot more comfortable with his own sounds because of how much he loves to hear yours.
⟢ he praises you the entire way through — sometimes it’s a small, “feels good, angel” and reassuring touches, and other times he’s pouring his heart out to you over how good it feels because he can’t hold back anymore.
⟢ although he’s usually dominant, your praise drives him insane. none of your sweet words and compliments go unnoticed, and each one encourages him to fuck you harder and better.
⟢ if he’s ever particularly overwhelmed, you’re the one taking care of him, and the sex is so, so sweet, just letting him cry and feel his emotions. he’s still coming to terms with how broken he is, and you are the most comforting thing to him. he loves that he never has to worry about you judging him.
⟢ he especially loves your voice. he sometimes secretly jerks off during phone calls with you, and tries to play it off like he’s just tired and distracted. he’s too shy to ask about phone sex .. yet.
⟢ his favorites are missionary for intimacy, and prone bone for how good it feels. he loves trying new positions with you, though, so you never really know what to expect.
⟢ sho also loves eating your pretty pussy, but he’s still learning. this isn’t a bad thing, though — it’s actually kind of lucky because you get to teach him exactly how you like it.
⟢ clingy cuddler. he doesn’t usually fall asleep right away after sex because he wants to make sure that you have everything you need before he can settle in.
is he fucking anyone else? — yes, but only if you don’t pick up. shoto has a low sex drive, so it’s rare that he asks you, and even more rare that he asks someone else. he usually just takes care of himself if you can’t make it, and he’s thinking about you the entire time.
