shrimpy-kitsune

[shrimpy-kitsune]

Afternoon Sun

╰┈➤ A needy Napoleon makes you take a break from your chores.

Napoleon Bonaparte/f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Gentle Sex; Kissing; Nipple Play; Cunnilingus; Oral Sex; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Sleepy Cuddles • wordcount: 2,631 • masterlist

"Okay, Napoleon, you can get me down already! I'm not going to run away or anything! Jeez!"

Your pleas fall on deaf ears as the man carrying you in his arms simply elbows the door open and takes you inside his bedroom. It's only when he sets you down on the soft duvet of his bed that he speaks again.

"Here you go."

You pout, but true to your word, you don't run away even as the chance to do so presents itself. However, that doesn't mean you give up on questioning him so easily.

"What's this all about? Coming and declaring that you're whisking me away from my chores? Poor Sebas is left tending to laundry all alone...!"

"I think he'll manage, Nunuche. You've been running left and right all day. I just figured you need a little break."

You watch Napoleon take off his coat and put it on his desk chair's backrest, his statement matter-of-factly and hard to refute. Especially when you've been secretly waiting for the day to be over so you can find yourself in the very same place as you are right now.

Napoleon rejoins you at the foot of his bed, now down to his comfy linen shirt, and pats his lap upon taking a seat.

Not seeing a reason to refuse such a nice offer, you crawl closer to him at sit sideways on his lap, enjoying the way his toned right arm immediately wraps around your shoulders to support your position. His gaze is soft when you meet it with your own, a smile playing on his lips, yet you can't help but think that he's being a little uncharacteristically quiet.

The staring contest is short-lived because he leans in for a kiss, all too soon. This is your "aha!" moment and you hurry to voice out your discovery - but not before placing a thorough smooch on his expecting lips, because you just can't help it.

"Napoleon! Did you take me here because I needed a break or because you were feeling lonely?"

When you take another look at his face, his brow is already furrowed in a little frown, likely from the unsatisfying contact. But it only grows once he actually registers your words.

"Why can't it be both?"

You chuckle at his honesty and give his lips another peck. As if he can be content with this.

Surprisingly, he doesn't push for a longer kiss as you'd predicted, so instead you have the chance to get a little more comfortable in his arms and take a breather. He looks as if he's carefully selecting his next words, so you give him the chance to while entertaining yourself by playing with the white ends of his hair. No matter how many times you try to smooth down the little silvery tuff, it keeps curling up on its own, sticking to the side of his face. It's adorable, especially in a moment where Napoleon is trying to be serious.

"It's just... you're rather busy these days. Getting up from bed so early, later running away as soon as you wake me up. I miss spending a quiet morning with you."

You try smoothing it down again, to no avail.

"Morning, you say..."

"Okay, fine, an early noon. You know what I'm saying, Nunuche."

That's your line, normally. He shouldn't be mad at you teasing him for his choice of words when it's so much like him to do the same to you.

But you don't feel like teasing him anymore. Your gaze moves from his smooth cheek to the intense emerald eyes staring back at you, waiting to be found. You can't get enough of him when he's being like that. Upfront enough with his emotions to make a bold statement and whisk you off your feet, taking you straight to his room. But at the same time afraid of acting selfishly. He'd stare at you as if begging you to say you feel the same way.

Which, you do.

You smile sweetly at your lover.

"So you want to cuddle in bed? Is this what you're saying? Let's do that, then!"

"Nunuche-Wait-"

It takes some effort to topple over a man of his build, but catching him off-guard does the trick. Laughter bubbles on your lips as you tower over him for a moment before rolling to the side, making space for him. Who cares if you're a little bit upside down, dialogally, in bed. Cuddles come in all angles and shapes.

He drags himself up until he's wholly on the bed, tackling you down despite your playful protests. Now he's the one on top, and you're about to say something about wanting to lay on his chest instead, when he suddenly meets your lips with his.

The earlier hesitation long dissipated, you're honestly happy to see him claiming his kiss now. You're glad you communicated your enthusiasm without taking the lead from him, and you're interested in seeing him express the neediness he previously showed.

"Nnnh..."

Oh, he's really getting into it. Trying to keep up with his tempo leaves you as breathless as he is, and the lewd sounds of the kiss make your belly tighten. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, and you let him toy with you as much as he pleases, enjoying his passionate loving show through the gesture, as if you're doing it for the very first time...

"Nunuche..."

At first, you're not sure if it simply fell out of his lips in the heat of the moment or if he's actually meaning to say something, so you just put a hand on his cheek to pull him down again.

"Nunuche, we... should stop."

Hazy but concerned, you look him in the eye with expectation.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted you to rest and now... if we kiss one more time, I would just want to make love to you."

You can tell that's not the reaction he expected to receive because you watch his brows go from being tightly knit together to rising up. You figure out you're smiling in this very moment, even if you're not doing it intentionally.

"I'm...not going anywhere, Napoleon."

Your hand finds his nape as you gently nudge him to shorten the distance again. But there's room for one more whisper before your lips connect again.

"I missed you too, you know..."

Now, you're aware yours seems to be a completely different way of missing each other from the one he talked about earlier. But you're not ashamed to admit it, nor are you ashamed of raising your knee just a little so that it presses firmly against the front of his trousers.

It doesn't really distract Napoleon from kissing you again. If he wasn't doing it with intention earlier, then he surely does now, until you can't help making those small noises into the kiss anymore.

"Need you."

The two words roll off his throat a little hoarsely, and it's so easy for you to slip inside the scenario where neither of you has started your day yet. The only difference is the too many layers between your bodies presently, neither of which being the soft bedsheets. But that too will cease to matter eventually, especially with the speed at which Napoleon works your shirt undone.

Arching your spine off the mattress to let him tug it free from your red skirt, your eyes widen as Napoleon can't wait to fully get rid of the piece of clothing before attacking your chest with his agape mouth. His tongue wets your sensitive skin, letting the air cool it so you start to miss the heat of his breath again.

It takes a couple of inpatient motions but your torso is now completely bare under Napoleon's eyes. He resumes his actions, suddenly being more than precise, as he takes a pert nipple in his mouth and suckles on it.

You toss your head to the side, fingers curling up in a fist with the desire to tangle them in his dark locks instead, all too easily. It will be a little embarrassing to admit you're more worked up than him, but you can't help it when he claims your weak spots like that.

Your composure completely crumbles when he flashes you a look without breaking off his ministrations, and he looks utterly needy at that moment, like he'd be offended if you were to tell him that's enough. The shiver that goes through you builds up into a powerful throb low inside your belly and between your legs, and you already want him inside. But you don't want to rush things, not when he's giving love to every part of you like that.

It's just unfair that you don't have much to do with your own hands while he's slowly making his way down your torso, removing your skirt and your underwear with one swift movement. You want to touch him too, to pleasure him, to show him how much you want him... even if your body takes care of the last part, being more than expressive.

"Nnnh-!"

Napoleon's strong hands have to keep your legs open as he tongues at your swollen folds, the strong currents of pleasure making you instinctively close your legs. Though it seems like he doesn't mind having his head sandwiched tight, his heavy breaths fanning over your heated center. The repetitive flicks of his tongue send your whole body shivering and you hope the whimpers coming out of your kiss-swollen lips are enough of a warning, because you can't for the life of you use your words to tell Napoleon of your upcoming climax.

Judging by the way he's going even harder at it, it's safe to assume he was able to read your body language like he always does. In no time he's sending your body into ecstasy, licking you through a powerful orgasm and letting you buck against his tongue, making a mess of his face.

When he emerges from between your legs, you welcome him back into your arms and you can't not notice he's a little red in the face. It gives you a rush of embarrassment that you gladly accept, coupled with the slight tang of your own juices on his tongue as he kisses you again, not waiting to stabilize his breathing.

You wrap your arms around his neck, similar to how you previously locked him with your legs, and the sound of his metal belt buckle clanking against the prong and suggesting that it's now undone is sending signals to your brain, ones that make the throbbing inside you intensify. Even after such a good orgasm, Napoleon is able to lower your recovery time to nearly zero just by a flick of his fingers. This is how much you need him.

Of course, seeing that he loses no time nesting himself between your legs, he's no better than you. Still, you don't trust him with the task of putting his cock inside you, because he likes to tease a little too much. So your hand slides downwards, between your bodies, and does it instead.

Napoleon looks at your face as he bottoms out in you, inch by inch, he doesn't even waste the time of a blink. There's a fire in his eyes when you finally open your own to gaze back at him, and you cry out his name when he starts thrusting.

"Ahhh...Napoleon!"

"I'm here, mon amour."

Withdrawing a little, his hands find the folds of your knees, holding you open so you can receive his thrusts as he picks up his pace. You're not sure if you're happy to trade his closeness with the delicious new angle of his cock moving inside you, but the latter becomes more and more important by the second. By the time you realize the two of you are being up to no good in the middle of the day, it's too late to care about muffling your moans. They already know.

Still, Napoleon is quick to notice the hitching of your breath, and he doesn't like it when you're too shy to express how he's making you feel. So he snaps his hips inside you in a particularly deep thrust.

"Ah!"

And again.

"Say my name."

"N-Napo...leon..."

Obedient as you are, he didn't need to pry it out of you too hard, and he rewards you with a series of nice and deep thrusts that are more of a pleasant grinding sensation against your deepest parts. You cry out again, ready to tip over the edge again so soon, especially when he lets go of your knees and meets you skin to skin, a part of his weight falling over you like a blanket.

"God, you're so tight and hot around me. Are you going to come?"

You lock your legs around his torso instead of answering, nothing coherent coming out of your mouth anyway other than moans that resemble a broken "yes". You envy him for the ability to tie together whole sentences like that, wishing to feel him throb inside you with a mere word from your mouth too.

"Nggh- Napoleon!"

Or maybe you can do that just fine. His cock swells inside you as his thrusts grow erratic until he lets the strong grip of your limbs completely immobilize him, knowing that you're pulling him as close as possible and he'll get to spill inside you no matter what.

The sensation of fingernails biting into your sides feels a little rough as he grips you harder in the heat of the moment, but it only heightens the feeling when your whole body is glowing with pleasure. You're sure you're leaving little crescents across his toned arms as well.

He erupts inside you, filling you spurt after sput as you spasm around him, milking him for every last drop. You begin to feel so full of his hot come, tears well up in the corners of your eyes. A sense of belonging overcomes you, strongly, as if you can make Napoleon melt into your chest if you hold him like that just a little longer.

He doesn't seem to be letting go of you anytime soon. The little readjustments of limbs that need to be made so he lies comfortable over you are making overstimulation spark all over but it's not unwelcome at all. It makes you clench your insides and feel him remaining there, where he belongs.

"I love you."

It's how you know he feels the same way. You might be having your own way of communicating it, as he always likes to remind, but you still deem it unfair to remain quiet just because you want to be completely still.

"I love you. I love you so much, Napoleon."

Your voice is a little hoarse from how deep in your throat those moans were rolling, but you think he might like the way your words come out. His soft humming sounds happy. And sleepy.

"Napoleon."

"Let me stay inside you for a little longer. Let's turn around."

The air gets trapped in your lungs for a mere second because admittedly, his wish does things to you. But you're able to let it out in the next moment, once you've settled nicely on top of his chest. Just like you wanted in the beginning when things were far more innocent...

"Napoleon.. you'll fall asleep..."

"Mmm."

You're not sure what that means. You just know the whole thing starts to resemble awfully much those late mornings you both missed, even if now it's the afternoon sun that peaks through the curtains to rest on your naked back, like the bedsheets that are missing. Maybe you'll rest your eyes for a moment too.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison   @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita @my-day6 Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[shrimpy-kitsune]

[shrimpy-kitsune]

AGF 2024 - Dark Mafia Theme - Roger Barel

[shrimpy-kitsune]

Me waiting for October to read good ass kinktober smut 😋😋😋

[shrimpy-kitsune]

Mmmmmmmm. Clavis. Clavis. Clavis.

A little story about this piece made by @nakitamelo . The IkePri elections had just happened, and I managed to convince the other Patreons to pick Clavis for the print of the month. His route was coming out that month, so it was the perfect way to celebrate this sexy, sexy man.

We knew hardly anything about him, but I was already in love.

This is the safe for work print. With two more naughtier prints that are asked not to be shared publicly by the artist. But of course, I have them.

@askclavislelouch I'm a long-time admirer of your sex appeal. But I love you when you're a pathetic wet towel as well.

[shrimpy-kitsune]

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION

╰┈➤🎥 Filming with Liam Evans is a dream come true. Every line he delivers, every small movement of his sculptured forms… you're far too immersed to remain level-headed, and you're yet to see him naked. This can't be good.

Liam Evans x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Porn Star AU; Porn actors; Porn Video; mentions of burglary and stalking (from the porn plot); Celebrity Crush; Cunnilingus; Oral Sex; Vaginal Sex • wordcount: 1,558 • masterlist

a/n: Special thanks to Liz (@candiedcoffeedrops) for the porn plot idea and to Drac (@drachonia) for enabling me so much. It's been a hot minute since I've been able to write anything, thank you for the encouragement guys <3

Visions of Temptation 2024/KINKTOBER DAY 1: Porn Actors AU

"Now, we can settle things nice and peacefully here, can't we? You can go ahead and call the cops on me for burglary, or you can let me try and change your mind first."

The unexpected offer nearly cracks your resolve, tense facial muscles twitching as your brow rises up just a tad. You're willing to listen, and the man in front of you notices that. He tilts his head to the side in a playful manner, unsuited for the severe situation.

"Don't try to hide it. I know your bed has been awfully empty lately…"

It definitely was a mistake, giving him the opportunity to speak. You know this must have been him collecting information for his planned theft but the thought of being stalked like this still sends unpleasant shivers down your spine. In lieu of a weapon, you hold on tighter to the phone in your hand, shooting daggers at the stranger in your bedroom. Crossing your arms in front of your chest, the long sleeves of your luxurious pink home robe suited for the lady of the house flutter around you.

"You have five seconds to change my mind."

His eyes widen slightly upon your proposition, just enough to show that enchanting magenta color. He approaches you with a feline step, and you do your best to be sturdy despite the growing anticipation. What would he do?

He gambles with his time. Whatever his course of action, he wastes too many seconds staring right into your eyes, and too little for anything else. And again, why are you hoping for anything else? He's closer now. You give no signs of resistance, and so he doesn't hold back.

A pair of lips land on your own. You don't dare breathe, and he doesn't dare invade your mouth - he's just there, a hot breath, a butterfly-light touch.

"I can treat you to some good time, and then you'll let me go. How does it sound? Think about it."

He whispers that in your ear. In response, you just slowly withdraw and take a look at him.

"And…Cut!"

A voice coming from behind you nearly makes you jump, forcing you right back into the reality of your surroundings. You got caught a little too much into that opening scene, but can you be blamed? Filming with Liam Evans is a dream come true. Every line he delivers, every small movement of his sculptured forms… you're far too immersed to remain level-headed, and you're yet to see him naked. This can't be good.

His role in this adult movie is not far from his usual repertoire. While he can transform into pretty much everything that's thrown at him, this bad-boy look fits him remarkably. A burglar breaking and entering into your home, bribing you with some good time, fully well knowing the risk he's taking and being just that confident in his skills. Liam is even more flawless when you're seeing him act up close. You're able to notice so much more this way - the way adrenaline colors his features, the daring gaze as he plays with fire - it's almost as if he's experiencing the thrill firsthand.

"You're both brilliant, I'm telling you! We'll begin the next scene with you two on the bed in the middle of undressing. Remember, Liam, nothing is decided yet. You have to win her over, to earn your freedom. Serve her like she's your mistress. You're entirely at her will!"

Tom's enthusiastic hand gestures make Liam speed up gulping the contents of his water bottle just so he can laugh at the director. You can't help but be sympathetic, he hardly needs those details after all.

"I think we got it, Tom." Liam pats his friend on the shoulder, yet his eyes never seem to leave yours. "We should keep going!"

In the commotion of spotlights being moved around the queen-sized bed in haste and cameras getting in position, you manage not to miss the intriguing little detail that Liam doesn't need any "preparation". It's hardly your first time being on set, yet you can't recall your male co-star getting a hard-on from a cliched prelude to the act…and one innocent kiss. But this really is happening, as everyone including you gets in position, and you can all but see the bulge in Liam's pants in your peripheral vision.

The camera starts rolling, however, and all you can focus on right now is making out with Liam. His hands are quickly put to work, and you know it will only get harder to be mindful of limbs blocking the view when he robs you of your concentration like that. Your robe pools on the bed around you, and Liam already has his face shoved in your chest, taking noisy mouthfuls of breather as he kisses your hot skin.

The contrast of him carefully taking off your underwear versus haphazardly discarding his own clothing only highlights how focused he is on serving you. The skillful tip of his tongue turns your nubs into hard peaks as he toys with your breasts.

By the time you're both fully nude and in the middle of another passionate kiss, your withdrawal is combined with a hand making its way towards Liam's beautiful hardness. Your insides throb at the sight of it, mind occupied with thoughts about having it inside you. Last time you had a good look at it, he was on the screen on your phone, and your hand was inside your underwear. Even now that this same hand is caressing him, you find it hard to believe…

Wait, you're not supposed to do that.

Anxiety materializes heavily in your chest, almost choking you out as you expect to hear an abrupt pausing of the scene. Feeling Liam's gaze on you, you return it, albeit with little expectation - and the shock on your features is genuine when Liam takes hold of your hand, and then of your other one, and pins you down to the bed.

He's improvising. Even if he was instructed to be completely at your mercy…

Next thing you know, Liam's head moves down between your parted legs until you find your hot centered attacked by his tongue. You sense a camera closing in to capture his performance between your legs and while in the throes of pleasure, you seem to realize this didn't spoil the scenario at all. The slight change in your dynamics doesn't mean Liam isn't as starved to please you as he was in the beginning - what's more, the measured amount of dominance in the simple gesture should be just enough to make the viewers go crazy.

You know it because it works on you.

Not a prisoner to your own worries anymore, you have little to do other than receiving Liam's masterful methods at making you soar to the heavens. The last thought lingering in your mind before you orgasm is that there simply can't be any co-star of his that has ever had to fake this.

As per the script, you have to let him pleasure you like this for some time until you start begging to be fucked - which proves to be as easy as breathing at this point, and the moment he pierces you with his cock, you can't help the full body shiver that runs through you rather noticeably. What was he bribing you for, again? Your heroine can't remember. All she cares about right now is taking her full of this handsome stranger.

Soon Tom announces another cut and you internally lament the loss of the perfect doggy position Liam had you in. For the money shot, Liam is to take you in missionary, pulling out last minute to ejaculate across your belly. You wish this burglar was a little more daring, but alas, you're not the director.

White hot takes over your vision as your head tosses back, eyes squeezed shut, orgasming one last time for the session. You don't relax just yet though, playing your next line in your head to make sure you remember it, even as you sense the hot emission of Liam's come land across your front all the way to your heavying chest. Tom is going to be happy with how this turned out.

"So? Did I manage to change your mind?"

Turning towards the smug expression looking forward to your response, you card your fingers through your disheveled hair and smirk back at him.

"I'm afraid you're in far deeper trouble now."

Despite the indication for round two, a direction who's not you decided this is where the film should end. Fair. Either way, you're likely going to feel that in your bones all the way to your home, and likely after that too.

A hand appears in front of you and you see Liam standing up next to the bed, offering you a handshake.

"Hope to work with you again someday."

You raise from your sitting position and accept his hand, giving him your best smile despite your quickening heartbeat. "Likewise. You're amazing, Mr. Evans, I hope to get close to your proficiency someday!"

Liam chuckles, leaning in just one step closer as he lowers his voice. "Just Liam is fine. And if you need any help, advice, practice, anything, just get in contact with me, okay?"

Practice…?

"Will surely do so!"

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[shrimpy-kitsune]

MEDDLE ABOUT

SYN. Being co-stars with your ex-boyfriend of three months is basically hell; or at least, that's what you think. AKA: Sukuna wants you back, whether he's acting or not.

TAGS. actor AU, fem!Reader, mean!Sukuna, exes to lovers, forced proximity, sharing a cigarette, smoking, arguing, eventual smut, Sukuna likes to shut you up with his dick, cockwarming, answering the phone during séx, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, porn w/o plot, use of pet names: baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, my dear (mockingly)

WC. 5.4k (please read anyway 😞)

AN. requested by anon (you didn't specify any genre, so i just freestyled 🤷‍♀️), animated dividers by @/cafekitsune; i'm a sucker for actor AUs; available on ao3; MDNI

“I know you wanna kiss me,” you smiled, leaning closer to Sukuna’s face. Your noses were barely apart, and you couldn’t tell where his breath ended, and where yours started. To be honest, this was far more intimate than any other kiss scene you ever had to film.

“Yeah?” Sukuna grinned, getting equally as close. “And what’re you going to do about that, pretty girl?”

“. . .Fucking slap you, that’s what.” 

“CUT!” The director yelled, groaning in exasperation. “C’mon, people. I know it’s been a long day, but put your differences aside for the sake of one movie, will ya? When you receive your paycheck, you’ll regret all of this ‘huffing and puffing’ you two are both doing right now.”

You exhaled, pulling away from Sukuna. It’s not that you couldn’t remember your correct lines, it’s just. . . You couldn’t take it anymore. Being in the same room as him, breathing in the same air as him, starring in the same movie with him. Fuck, you hated this.

You and Sukuna had broken up exactly three months ago despite having what seemed like a pretty healthy relationship. Seemed is the key word.

Of course, you two had your ups and downs, like an ordinary couple, but what differentiated you two from a normal couple was the fact that you guys both juggled busy careers as an actor and actress. Being booked with interviews, PR stunts, and in general, movies, you and Sukuna didn’t have the ability to spend much time together. And, as if that wasn’t enough, there was constantly a multitude of women on his arm during movie premieres. Yeah, you knew those were all for PR, but still, it hurt to see your boyfriend standing with a woman that wasn’t you every day.

At first, you thought you could take it. Being an actress yourself, you had your fair share of rumors and made up scandals. But it came to a point where you couldn’t take it anymore. You and Sukuna broke up, consequently, and fans immediately voiced their opinions and concerns, bombarding Twitter with trending tags, and posting videos on several apps. The internet had been obsessed with you guys as a couple since the first movie you two co-starred in—which was years ago—so their complaints definitely weren’t for naught.

Originally, you thought that your relationship with Sukuna would end on good terms, but boy, oh boy, were you wrong. Sukuna, just mere days after your breakup, was spotted by paparazzi walking around the city with his arm around a girl you definitely did not recognize as one of his current co-stars. And to make matters worse, he had the audacity to hit you up and ask if he could come over to your penthouse right after.

Men, am I right?

You two may or may not have slept together as exes a few times after your inevitable argument about him and that new girl, but rest assured, you did eventually break things off permanently. Well, you thought you did. As if by fate, you and Sukuna were casted as co-stars in an up-and-coming romance movie that had your fans just dying in anticipation of finally being able to see their favorite (broken up) couple together on screen again.

To be frank, you were originally going to pass up the role as the female lead—seeing as your luck had landed you as co-stars with Sukuna—but your manager apparently really, really wanted you to work on the film, saying things like Think of how elated your fans will be and It’s an adaptation from a book that made millions and Just imagine all of the PR and promoting you could do. It took a while of convincing—and coercing—to get you to finally agree to the role since, after all, PR was the main reason for your and Sukuna’s breakup. But, honestly, you would be lying if you said there weren’t any feelings left for your ex-boyfriend, Sukuna.

“I think we should all take a breather,” Sukuna began, jeering, “before someone gets all hot and bothered by just being on the same set as me. Wouldn’t you agree?” Sukuna turned to you, an expression on his face that just made you want to punch him in the nose.

“‘Hot and bothered’, seriously? Don’t make me laugh.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.

Sukuna tilted his head to the side, grinning. “Do you think I’m joking? I could feel the way your heart was racing earlier, when we had to shoot that hugging in the rain scene. Just admit it, this isn’t acting for you.”

He was definitely self-projecting, you scowled just by the thought of it.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, sweetheart. We all know how you really feel,” Sukuna teased, leaning down to your eye-level. His breath fanned your reddening ear as he whispered, “You want me so bad it makes you look fucking stupid.”

And when he pulled away, Sukuna added one last remark, “I know it’s been a long three months for you. Say, how’s that blondie treating you, hm? I bet his dick is as small as his future in acting.”

“Ryomen, just stop.” You shook your head. “It’s not like that with him, and you know that. Just leave me alone.”

You shoved at his chest as you walked off set, your assistants following you promptly with water bottles and towels.

In all honesty, you remembered it like it happened yesterday. Before you and Sukuna became boyfriend and girlfriend, your first meeting was in a movie that you both starred in as the female and male lead. It was a romance movie, of course, that was about a couple meeting on an island while both on individual vacations. You two spent most of your days on set in swimsuits and bikinis, consuming fake alcoholic beverages, and, consequently, sleeping together—after the tension just grew unbearable.

On and off camera, Sukuna had been growing an attraction towards you. I mean, who could blame him? You two had to be near each other while being basically half-naked. And, if your pretty face wasn’t enough to beguile Sukuna, your ass definitely was. From the moment he shook hands with you at your first meeting as co-stars, he knew he had to have you—acting or not.

That movie was the start of the skyrocketing of both your and Sukuna’s career in acting. Fans quickly noted how much chemistry the two of you had together, and how well you two could act out emotions and intimate scenes. What the audience didn’t know, though, was that you and Sukuna had started seeing each other a few weeks after shooting together.

Sukuna had invited over the whole cast and team for drinks after a successful movie premiere, and you two ended up talking and conversing in his kitchen whilst a little under the influence. You two hit it off, and learned that being an aspiring actor wasn’t the only thing you two had in common. One glass turned into two, and two turned into stumbling into Sukuna’s bedroom after everyone had responsibly ordered a cab home.

Waking up the morning after, and deciding it wasn’t just going to be a one night stand, you and Sukuna thus began your new relationship. At first, you two avoided being spotted in public together, but it came to a point where your relationship just couldn’t be hidden anymore and you both decided to go public. The internet responded almost immediately with cheers, enthusiasm, and occasionally, expressions showing how un-surprised they were. I mean, you two had been shipped together almost constantly; making it official was almost expected. 

Years passed, the honeymoon stage was over, your careers were more demanding and busy than they had ever been, and, well, you know the rest.

—

“Fancy seeing you here.” 

A grimace immediately made its way onto your face at the sound of Sukuna’s voice calling out to you from behind. 

“Hilarious,” you deadpanned, turning to face Sukuna as he sat down beside you and slung an arm around the back of the couch, “I was hoping the next time I saw you would be at your funeral.”

“A little harsh, don’t you think?” chided Sukuna, as he brought out a cigarette and lit it.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back against the couch. “What do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sukuna leaned his face closer to yours, his eyes running down your face and naturally drifting to your lips.

“Unless you’re being your usual asshole-self, and here to annoy me in my dressing room, I’m afraid not.”

After you stormed off set, the director decided it was best to just call it a day and continue filming tomorrow. You went outside for a bit to get some fresh air, before deciding to return to your dressing room and get unready. Stripping down and putting on nothing but your robe, you had sat yourself down on the couch and picked up a magazine, planning on spending a few minutes relaxing before making your way home. Sukuna barging in, despite being off the clock, was something you definitely weren’t expecting. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and if someone found out. . .

“You’ll be in a lot of trouble if my makeup artist comes in here and sees you,” you commented. “Go smoke somewhere else.”

At this, Sukuna’s eyes flickered up to your own, and he removed the cigarette from his lips before blowing out the smoke right in front of your face. Your nose scrunched up, as if on instinct, and Sukuna booped your nose with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I swear,” you began, snatching the cigarette out of Sukuna’s hands, “if I don’t kill you, I hope these will.” Now was your turn to put the cigarette between your lips. You inhaled, and took a deep breath. But, only moments after, the cigarette was out of your hands and abruptly stubbed on a nearby ashtray.

Sukuna looked at you with an intent look on his face. “As much as I find that hot, I’d rather I be the one damaging my lungs. Not you.”

“Looking out for little old me? How cute,” you smiled, your tone sarcastic. “I see you’re not over us, yet, hm? Did that new girl change your mind?”

You leaned closer to Sukuna, your shoulders brushing ever so slightly.

As soon as you mentioned that other chick, Sukuna rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. It was nothing, we didn’t even hold hands. C’mon, all we did was sit next to each other at a party, and now you’re on my ass about her?”

You shrugged, picking up the magazine you had previously discarded and flipping through the pages with faux interest. “Oh, really? Didn’t look that way to me. You two sure seemed buddy-buddy.”

“Like hell we did. Fuck, do you want me to bring up that twig you were with last week? Kid’s got no meat on his arms. Can’t even call him a man. Is that seriously how low you’re willing to go, babe?” Sukuna scoffed at your lack of attention to him. “Shit’s even worse than a downgrade.”

“You can think that all you want. But I definitely disagree.” You struggled to stifle a giggle.

Sukuna, furrowing his brows, narrowed his eyes at you. “The fuck do you mean by that? Don’t tell me you’ve seen his dick.”

“I dunno, have I?” You turned to Sukuna, meeting his gaze with an equal amount of irritation.

“Must’ve been pretty small, though, if you can’t even remember it,” Sukuna pressed, leaning closer to you, your noses touching, before pulling away. “Whatever, this is boring. Say, how about we get back to where we left off, and practice that kissing scene, hm? I think it’s a great idea.”

“Ryomen, let’s not. You know we’re done. Been done. We’re through.”

“You don’t really mean that.”

“Oh, is it not obvious? I think it was pretty obvious when you had the nerve to get with a new girl just days after we broke up. And then you have the balls to call me right after the paparazzi catches you two. Really, Sukuna? I don’t mind the idea of us ending on neutral terms, but . . . 48 hours? Two days after we broke up, and you’re already fucking some girl? Way to go, Sukuna.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself there, baby. We didn’t even kiss, did you see any pictures of us kissing? No. And, besides, it’s called provocation. Honestly, you should be praising me, because it worked in the end, didn’t it? I came ‘crawling back’ like one of your little bitch boys, and what happened? Oh, I remember; you let me right the fuck in to your apartment.”

As much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t deny Sukuna. He was right. And, just the mere thought of what you two did after he hit you up brought heat to your cheeks.

The very same night after pictures of Sukuna and that new girl started circulating around the internet, Sukuna decided to text you:

hey pretty girl,

you up?

You were drying yourself off with a towel when you received two notifications on your phone, and when you saw the contact name, you frowned and turned off your phone without giving a response. Minutes after, there was a ring on your doorbell, and when you checked the camera, lo and behold, stood none other than the last pink-haired man you wanted to see that evening.

When you opened the door, wearing nothing other than a towel around your still dripping body, Sukuna couldn’t help but shamelessly check you out, deciding then and there that this definitely wasn’t going to be the end of your relationship. Of course, an argument ensued soon after, because that’s what life was like dating a dick like Sukuna. Luckily for you, however, Sukuna’s bulge in his pants was bigger than his ego, and so it made up for all of the playful bullying and teasing remarks that he frequently gave.

Sukuna—because he wasn’t born yesterday—knew his looks and charms fairly well, and often used them as a weapon or bargaining chip. That’s why, after you spent a minute or two berating and yelling at Sukuna near your front door, it only took the man one look into your eyes and one sultry comment to have you both stumbling into the . . . bedroom? No, you two had been apart for two days too long, and just decided to utilize your expensive kitchen counters for purposes completely unrelated to cooking.

The next morning, you two woke up—after getting just half an hour of sleep—and didn’t untangle from each other’s limbs until your manager called you nearly a hundred times, and forced you to get up and attend some interview or something. That, however, was not your last night with Sukuna. You two met up—intentionally or not—within the same week, whether it be at interviews or just random outings, and meddled with the other until one of you would fold (usually Sukuna) and consequently do something you would end up not fully regretting the next morning.

This affair continued until you finally came to your senses and blocked Sukuna out from your life in all ways possible. But, due to his bank account, Sukuna did end up purchasing multiple different phones just to be able to contact you. You may or may not have given in a few times, but in the end, you did end up leaving Sukuna for good.

“Reminiscing, are you? It’s okay, I’ve been doing that every night since you left the penthouse,” Sukuna laughed, noticing the way you went silent. You hated the way he referred to his place as The penthouse, and not, simply, his penthouse because, to be frank, for the years you both spent as a couple, you practically lived together despite having individual residences.

“What the hell, Sukuna. Just—Why are you even—?”

Sukuna cut you off, rolling his eyes. “I find it pretty hard to believe that not a single part of you misses me. Don’t lie; lying is a sin, y’know.”

“Sukuna—Excuse me? Don’t give me that shit. ‘Lying is a sin’ my ass. You must have to ask for God’s forgiveness pretty often, then. I can’t believe you want to call me a sinner, I mean, just—just look at you! You’re no saint, either, and you know that damn well.”

Sukuna raised his hands in defense, humoring you. “Woah, looks like I’ve been caught,” he laughed, before getting a little more serious. “But, don’t try to avoid the fact that you’re not innocent. Okay, we broke up due to not being able to make time for each other, and because of how much women I had to be around. Yeah, I get that. But it’s not like I was the only one taking up PR stunts. You did the same, too, didn’t you? So don’t try and paint me out to be the bad guy, when, at the end of the day, we did the same fucking thing.”

Irritated, you pinched the space between your brows. “I barely have any energy to say something to your stupid face right now. We broke up because of that, but also because of how much of a fucking dick you were and are. I knew you weren’t a total angel when we got together but—”

“Look. Do you want a nice guy?”

“. . .”

“Don’t feel pressured to answer, baby. We all know how you really feel.”

“Go. to. Hell. Sukuna. Seriously. This? Again? Do you even know how much of an ass you are? I should deserve an award for putting up with your shit for so long, God—”

“Yeahh, just keep talking,” said Sukuna in a teasing manner, as he leaned back against the couch, spreading his legs apart. You had never wanted to sit somewhere so bad.

“Are you fucking kidding me—mmph!”

You would’ve continued yelling and cursing Sukuna out for being such a dick had he not roughly pressed his lips against yours, immediately shutting you up. Because you still had some self-respect left, you fought back, throwing weak punches at his chest; but when Sukuna caught your wrists in his hands, you knew it was game over. Your muffled complaints soon turned to whimpers and sighs, as you shut your eyes and let your body do the talking.

Minute after minute, you gradually turned to putty in Sukuna’s hands. Fuck, as much as you hated to admit it, you had truly missed this. The feeling of his large, coarse hands roaming your body, tracing your curves, the feeling of his soft, but unruly hair under your fingertips, but most importantly, the feeling of his lips on yours.

At this point, you couldn’t even remember why the two of you broke up.

“Sukuna,” you murmured, pulling away for a moment to breathe. “We’re not together anymore. We shouldn’t—”

“Shouldn’t?” repeated Sukuna, eager to get back to where you left off. “Are you in a relationship with someone else? Am I in a relationship with someone else? No, and no. So enlighten me, my dear, why should we stop?”

“. . .” It was like he was challenging you, except, this time, it was a battle you could afford to lose. You wanted Sukuna, you really did. But admitting it was the hard part. You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating every outcome, as Sukuna continued to stare at you with so much desire you could practically feel it.

“Are you hesitating because,” Sukuna paused, “—because you fucked someone else while I was gone?”

You sighed, swallowing the lump in your throat; you had never been more conflicted in your life. Placing your hands on Sukuna’s shoulders, you pushed back until Sukuna was sitting on the couch, and you were sitting on top of him—seated on his lap. As if on instinct, his hands made their way from your hips to the curve of your ass.

Sukuna gripped the globes of fat and muscle with a purpose, and let out an exaggerated groan at the missed feeling of you practically sitting on his dick. You were wearing nothing but a dainty, silky robe, and you clearly didn’t cross it over your chest too well, as Sukuna could see almost everything he had been missing out on during the past few months.

“Don’t even think about lying to me. I can feel you throbbing on my thigh, y’know.”

“. . .And?” You raised a brow; whispering in Sukuna’s ear, “What about it?”

Biting your lip, you let your hands wander up and down Sukuna’s neck, the spot you knew he liked you touching. When you broke things off with Sukuna, you didn’t know you could miss being able to trace his tattoos as bad as you did.

“Oh?” asked Sukuna. But when his fingers wandered up your robe, there was a sudden change in Sukuna’s demeanor, and he sucked in a breath.

“Adorable,” you laughed. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Shit, baby,” Sukuna groaned, “I bet you were expecting me to come and visit your little dressing room, huh. Even planned ahead and gave me a little surprise. Cheeky thing.”

Just seconds earlier, Sukuna’s fingers had been teasingly ghosting where you wanted him most, but when he noticed the lack of underwear you had on, he nearly lost it. You clearly weren’t making it easy for Sukuna to stay composed, he was sure of that much. Despite all of his belittling and teasing remarks, he definitely wasn’t as unaffected as he let himself seem to be.

“We’ve just been apart for so, so long.” You looked into Sukuna’s eyes, a faux pout on your lips as you looped your arms around his neck and pressed your tits up against his chest. “Can you blame me?”

“Fuck, girl,” Sukuna kissed his teeth. “You’re dripping wet. All for me?”

“Who the fuck else?”

Sukuna’s fingers danced around your entrance, collecting your slick as you pressed your thighs together, trapping his hand between your legs (not like he was complaining, though; that was probably the closest to Heaven Sukuna would ever get in his lifetime). “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear.”

It wasn’t a surprise when you pressed your lips against Sukuna’s, bringing him in for another zealous kiss. In an effort to get impossibly closer, your body curved into his, like you were puzzle pieces molded and created just for each other. You two moved in sync, as if you had both rehearsed this before; but, in truth, you two had just made out too many times to count, so kissing Sukuna was basically like breathing air. You needed it to survive, and, it was light work. What more could you say?

The tension and lust between you two grew, and your dressing room soon filled with the sound of sensual desire, moans and quiet gasps, and the creaking of the framework of your unfortunate couch, which had the misfortune of being beneath the two of you.

From the moment you had begun straddling his lap, you had pretended not to notice the growing erection below you; but, by now, it was pretty hard to ignore the bulge pressing against your ass. It was like, during the months you two spent apart, Sukuna’s dick was growing even larger than before. You didn’t remember it being so big. And, just the sight of it was enough to make you lick your lips in fear? Anticipation? . . .Definitely a mix of both.

As Sukuna made a show of removing his belt and pants, he grinned at the evident look of unfamiliarity on your face. “Scared?”

“Of course not,” you quipped, trying to put up a front, but your body betrayed you, displaying otherwise.

“Naturally,” Sukuna mocked, “that’s why I can practically feel your arousal, right?”

You bit your lip, “Shut up.”

Sukuna laughed, pushing the ends of your robe up to rest on your hips, and sliding his hands to your ass, squeezing each cheek with an equal amount of force. Damn, thought Sukuna, he had missed his favorite girls.

“Just because we haven’t done this in a while doesn’t mean you have to be afraid of it. C’mon,” Sukuna slowly repositioned and lowered your hips and spread your legs apart, easing his dick through your cunt, “there’s nothing to be shy about. I know you’ve been missing this.”

It was true, you and Sukuna hadn’t fucked in three whole months, and your body was definitely starting to forget how he felt. The feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s length and size burned pleasurably, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan, which, in turn, just came out as a whimper instead.

Bracing yourself, you planted both palms on Sukuna’s broad shoulders as your lashes fluttered and your eyes shut tight. “So—nngh—So big, Sukuna. God.”

“Bet you’re real glad you decided to accept this role, after all, huh.”

Your eyes snapped open, and you glared at Sukuna. “Will you just shut—oh!”

Just as you were about to yell at Sukuna, he decided it was the absolute perfect time to give a rough thrust; and you could’ve sworn you felt him in your womb. Throughout all the years you two had been together, you rarely had the opportunity to actually sit on his dick, and, now that you had the chance, you realized how full you felt in this position compared to how you two usually fucked. Sukuna knew you liked it rough, but this . . . was like nothing you had experienced before.

Sukuna—laughing—leaned down just enough to whisper in your ear, “You were saying?”

“Fuck,” you gritted your teeth. “Just move, Sukuna, goddamnit. What’s the holdup? Don’t tell me the late twenties are catching up to your libido.”

“Ha! in your dreams. I was just thinking of a new way we could have fun. Let’s see, just how long can you go without moving, hm?”

You gulped. “W-What? Why would you—?”

“Because it’s exciting, and spices up things. Don’t you think so?”

“. . .”

As the minutes idly passed by, you grew hot and bothered, and exasperated. You couldn’t believe Sukuna was making you do this. Nearly ninety days you two spent apart, and now that you had gotten back together, he had the audacity to leave you high and dry? In a final attempt at getting any satisfaction, you moved to roll your hips, desperate to create any amount of friction to free you from this everlasting state between Heaven and Hell; but two rough hands abruptly caught you in motion, and swiftly held you down.

“Ah, ah, ah,” tutted Sukuna, in a mocking tone. “Did I say you could move?”

Clearly frustrated, you let out a whine; but as your hands move to give punches against Sukuna’s chest, he catches your wrists in his hands with ease, an evil smile on his face, like a predator that had successfully cornered their prey and was just seconds away from latching their teeth in.

The belt was already pretty loose, so when one of the sleeves on your robe slipped down your shoulder, revealing your bare chest, no one was that surprised.

“Oh?” Sukuna began. “What have we here?” His scarlet eyes roamed up and down your figure, as his grip on your wrists turned almost deathly.

“You . . . bastard,” you—suddenly feeling a bit shy—tried to tug your wrists out of his grasps, in order to cover yourself up, but your attempts were futile. “Let go of me—hnngh, shit.”

Your back arched, body curving closer to Sukuna’s as his lips abruptly wrapped around one of your already hard nipples, catching you off guard. You had never felt so overwhelmed; the feeling of Sukuna sucking on a tit while his dick was buried inside of you—unmoving—was nearly enough to make you cum, despite the lack of movement that Sukuna allowed.

Bringing you out of your dazed state was the sudden ringing of your phone on the table beside the ashtray. Your eyes widened in surprise, as you softly pushed Sukuna off of you. “Just—Just ignore it. It’s not important.”

“Right. But where’s the fun in that, huh?”

“You don’t mean. . .”

“You know what I mean. Answer it, on speaker,” Sukuna pressed. His tone told you he wasn’t going to repeat himself.

With shaky fingers, you reached for the phone, answered the caller, and put it on speaker. “H-Hello? Katayama?”

Katayama was the name of one of your co-stars. Or, in other words, the blonde dude, which Sukuna kept mentioning earlier.

“Hey, you! It’s pretty late right now, perfect time for us to go out and get some drinks, y’know? I’m a bit bored, as of lately.”

You were about to respond with an apologetic declination to his offer, but Sukuna cut you off as he roughly lifted up your hips and abruptly slammed them back down, causing you to choke back a moan, and cover it up with a faux series of coughs. “I’m, ah, a little . . . busy,” you whimpered, wincing at the tight grip on your hips—which was sure to leave a bruise in the morning, “right now.”

“Are you sick?”

“Uhm, no—I mean, yes!” You let out another fake cough just to seal the deal. “Yup, just a little under the weather.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a string of moans and curses as Sukuna continued slamming your hips up and down onto his.

“Well, if you’re ever in need of an extra warm blanket, don’t be afraid to—”

“Hahh.” A breathy moan slipped past your lips, and you could practically see the surprised look that was probably on Katayama’s face right now.

“—call . . . me. Uhm, are you sure you’re sick? You sound like you’re in the middle of . . . something. Is everything okay—?”

“Yup! Yeah, everything is totally okay,” you forced out, with an enthusiastic tone. Gripping Sukuna’s shoulder with your free hand for leverage, you shut your eyes tight as you quickly ended the call. “I’m a little occupied at the moment, I’ll call you ba—I’m gonna go. Bye!”

As swiftly as you hung up the call, you threw your phone across the couch, and let out all of the noises you had been previously bottling up.

“I’m so c-close.” You mewled, now even more desperate than you were before.

“If you dare cum,” Sukuna began, his voice low, “I’ll stop.”

“Sukuna!” You whined, scratching at his back and leaving little crescent shaped marks from your nails on his tricep. “I need to—ahnn!”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you held onto Sukuna’s shoulders for dear life as he quickened his pace. Lifting your hips up with ease, and slamming them back down with equal force. Fucked out of your mind was not enough to describe your current state, as your eyes rolled back into your head, and your lipstick was smudged across your mouth.

Sukuna leaned down to whisper into your ear, never stopping his movements. “Bet the little blondie didn’t fuck you like this, huh?”

It was obvious that Sukuna wasn’t an insecure guy; I mean, he had no reason to be. He had nice muscles, a good body, overall, sharp features, tempting eyes, and tattoos for days. But, you had to admit, the spark of jealousy was definitely a good look on Sukuna, one that you wouldn’t mind seeing every once in a while, if it meant seeing him like . . . this.

“. . .S-Sukuna, we never—we never even fucked in the first place.”

“Oh, yeah? How long you been without cock, then, huh? Must be why you’ve been acting like such a bitch. I almost feel bad; all this time, my baby’s just been depraved.”

“. . .F-fuck you,” you shivered, body practically shaking with need.

“No need to state the obvious, sweetheart. Fuck, even your tears taste sweet,” Sukuna groaned, licking a stripe up your cheek. “It’s as if you were literally made for me to devour.”

“Please, please let me cum! I’m so—hnngh—close.”

“Yeah, no. C’mon, I know my girl can last just a little longer, can’t you?” Sukuna grinned, biting his lip as he admired your dazed state. He hadn’t been able to touch you in three months, ninety days, 504 hours. If anyone was going to get their fill, it was him.

—

“Oh!” Your stylist exclaimed, after walking into your dressing room and noticing you lying asleep on the couch. “You’re already here. And, Sukuna’s here, too. Wait. . . SUKUNA’S HERE, TOO!?”

[shrimpy-kitsune]

Jude is too freakin cute!! ♡

It's Ikemen Villains Gift Exchange day! 🙌🙌 Huge thanks to @aquagirl1978 for hosting!

For @pondlilies00

I've written you a little tale of mutual pining and Jude being his secretly-soft self! I hope you like it!! 😅

Mere-Exposure Effect

“Can't sleep again, eh?”

I huffed at the question, rough, heavily-accented voice tingling my ears. I kept my back to him, but still responded. “How do you know I wasn't sleeping? You could have just woken me up.”

I heard him scoff. “Sleepin’ people don't toss ‘n turn like you've been.”

He wasn't wrong, I grumpily acknowledged. Try as I might, sleep was evading me, especially after the hellacious night we'd had. I remained silent in defiance, glaring moodily at my bright yellow daffodil hairpin resting atop the nightstand by the bed. The flower was hardly the cause of my insomnia, but it was as good an object to displace upon as any. 

“Oi, ignorin’ me won’t end up in yer favor,” he warned. 

I rolled my eyes, sighing in surrender. I reluctantly sat up, turning toward the room's other occupant.  

Jude Jazza. 

He was reclined on his own bed, eyes closed and head relaxing against the arms he had thrown behind him, a lit cigarette dangling between his teeth. The smoke billowed around him lazily, almost like it was afraid to get too close to him. Not that it would be wrong. The white-haired man reeked of danger.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three months ago, my life changed forever when I accidentally stumbled upon a mission completed by England’s underground crimefighters, an organization known as Crown. The organization was special in that it was comprised of men called the Cursed, who were afflicted with unique abilities and tragic fates. Typically, anyone that learns of Crown is killed instantaneously, but I was able to escape such an end by the grace of Crown’s mysterious leader, Victor. A man known as the Grim Reaper shouldn’t be so…Goofy. 

He appointed me as Crown’s Fairytale Keeper, and tasked the members with keeping an eye on me to ensure I didn’t spill their secret to anyone for one month. To complete my role, I was permitted to join Crown on their seedy missions to ‘fight evil with evil.’ 

Hence how I ended up acquainted with Jude. 

Initially, I was convinced that Victor must have been displeased with me in some way; why else would he insist on torturing me by continually forcing me to spend time with such a grouchy individual? It didn’t help that Jude was decidedly not a Victor fan, and spent countless hours cursing the long-haired man in more colorful terms than I had ever heard in my life. It didn’t take long for my task of recording all of Crown’s evil deeds to shift to only recording Jude’s. 

At first, we got on like oil and water; Jude was not pleased with my presence, and he made it no secret he viewed me as nothing more than a burden. The only silver lining to being in unwilling proximity to him was his assistant, Ellis, who was a ray of sunshine to the other man’s gloom. However, like a proper assistant, the dark-haired man repeatedly pleaded with me to ‘just give Jude a chance’ and vowing ‘he’s not as bad as he seems.’ 

I guess, in a way, he was right. Though only barely.

As the month went on, I found little things about Jude that softened me to him: He complained constantly, but I came to realize it was really only regarding things he cared about; he’d scold me frequently, accusing me of ‘always havin’ yer head in the damn clouds!’ but only after he’d protected me from whatever dangers were present; and there were the subtly considerate gestures, like blowing smoke away from me when we were next to one another, or slowing his pace when I accompanied him to inspect cargo. 

By the end of my mandated time with Crown, I was free to choose the course of my life. 

While it was tempting to return to my banal job at the post office and the ordinary flat I lived in above the bakery, I knew I’d never again be satisfied by the mundane. Therefore, I requested to be allowed to stay on with Crown as their exclusive Fairytale Keeper, a request that was glady granted. 

Victor being Victor, I was whisked away to the dining room of the castle where a lavish party was underway in my honor, the men of Crown feasting and toasting to their heart’s content. Jude, shockingly, was even in attendance; though when I asked him about it, he grumbled something about the only reason being that he owed Lord Elbert some favor for a recent business transaction. I casually mentioned that to Ellis while we chatted, but he smirked and bent down to whisper to me like some conspirator, “That's not true; he made us leave the office early to get here in time for you.”  

Heat colored my cheeks at that tidbit of information, mind whirling with questions. I was under the impression that Jude still disliked me, yet to hear his assistant plainly refute that idea was…

Troubling. 

Troubling in that it proved to be difficult to interact with the curmudgeon in the same way from then on, which was a daily occurrence. It became much easier to hear the underlying care in his pointed words, how he worried over people, or to find his harsh tone and gestures more sweet than downright rude. 

I noticed that Victor was sending me out with more variety now that I had officially been accepted into Crown, an overall nice change as I got to know the other members more, however there was an uptick of a particular type of mission he and the Queen seemed to push on me to do with only Jude. 

The ‘fake lovers’ missions. 

The first one during my initial tenure was awful; Jude and I had to pretend to be engaged so as to infiltrate a place where couples were going missing. We even had to participate in a faux wedding to keep our cover. Miserable as I was, my companion appeared to have the time of his life, finding any and every opportunity to tease and humiliate me. Convinced that would be the last time I’d be subjected to such a farce, I was flabbergasted when Victor requested I do another with Jude of all people, whose knowing smirk when I looked to him in disbelief was appalling. 

This, of course, led to an entirely new problem: Somehow, someway, my miniscule attraction to Jude was swiftly growing into something unexpected and, frankly, unwanted. Despite my better judgment, and decidedly against my will, I had fallen in love with him. Beyond his quirky personality and hidden kindness, it didn’t help that the man was stupidly handsome, a fact he would even flaunt for his personal goal of making me look like an absolute fool on our missions.

Sometimes, in the wee hours of the morning, I wondered if he knew, and that was why he persisted in demanding my presence to Victor. It certainly fell in line with his personality. Then there would be other times where it would almost seem like he perhaps reciprocated my little crush. 

I was quick to banish thoughts like that, however. The last thing I needed was to be involved with someone like Jude who had enemies around every corner. He made it a point to occasionally mention offhandedly that “bein’ ‘round me can guarantee death, ya know.” 

(If you would take the time to think about it, you’d maybe have realized the purpose behind the act.)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tonight’s mission had been yet another Fake Lovers trope, with Jude and I posing as a newly married couple in the market for an exotic pet. We attended a private show put on by a local noble. When we arrived, my stomach sank at the vile display of abused, forlorn animals in cages, but worse than that, there were people in cages as well. Jude had nudged me, his face placid, as a subtle reminder to keep my emotions in check. Our goal was to eliminate everyone responsible for the depraved scene. 

Jude made for quite the sight as he slashed and skewered all in his path of destruction, and with success under our belt, we retired to the inn we were assigned to in order to get some rest before returning home. However, when I would close my eyes, all I could see was the faces of the animals and human victims trapped beyond the bars, malnourished and bleeding from fresh wounds. There were even mangled bodies of children in the enclosures of the more vicious beasts. 

The soft glow of the singular lamp in the room cast his shadow on the wall, making him appear larger than life. His head tilted to the side so he could properly meet my gaze. “I can help, ya know,” he finally said after a few moments. 

I blinked, uncomprehending. “Huh?” I replied lamely. “You're offering…To help? Me?”

His eyes narrowed into a sharp glower. “I was, but since ya want to be cheeky ‘bout it, consider the offer rescinded.”

Recovering, I bit the inside of my cheek to stop from bursting out laughing. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought he was pouting. “Wait!” I cried, throwing my legs over the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” I clasped my hands in front of my chest, giving him my best puppy-dog eyes. “I want your help! Please explain what you mean?” 

He kept his chilling violet gaze trained on me, hardly looking moved by my plea. His spindly fingers grasped the white paper wrapping of the cigarette, chest expanding as he inhaled from the filter. He pulled the toxic stick away from his pursed lips, blowing out the acrid smoke in a forceful puff. “Oh, I dunno,” he drawled, deadpan. “It’s not as though there isn’t a way to magically,” he drew that word out, tone dripping in derision. “Make someone unconscious.” 

I grimaced, face flaring in red-hot embarrassment at forgetting about Jude’s ability. “I suppose that would be helpful,” I agreed, deflecting. “If someone were to have such a power, I assume they would want something in exchange for performing it?” 

He grinned, feral. “Nothin’s free in this world, Princess.” He reached over to the other nightstand, stubbing the cigarette out in the small ashtray. “You should know that by now.” 

Extended time with him had certainly taught me that. We stared at one another, evaluating. “Name your price,” I eventually demanded. I knew this wouldn’t end well for me, but I was admittedly too overcome with exhaustion to be cautious.

Jude smirked, looking like a cat that caught the canary, and my heartbeat accelerated with the spike of anxiety I felt in my gut. That face is never a good sign. He steepled his fingers in his lap, leaning forward. “I’ve got a particularly large order comin’ in when we get back to the castle. Ellis is goin’ to need help gettin’ all the paperwork in order.” 

My face fell, dreading the workload that was promising to be; Jude had a nasty way of making arduous tasks sound menial. I wrestled with the idea, caught between self-preservation and the need for rest, all the while the white-haired man eyed me like a beast watching its prey squirm. Ultimately, my tired mind won out, and I grimaced as I accepted my fate. “Okay, deal.” 

He barked a scornful laugh. “I won’t hear any complainin’, got it?” I nodded, watching curiously as he flicked the lamp off. The darkness temporarily blinded me, but my eyes adjusted with the help of the full moon pouring in through the open window. I saw him swing his legs back onto the bed, retreating to the far side before reclining back once more. “C’mon,” he ordered, gesturing toward himself. 

I stood, crossing the short distance to sit on the edge of his bed. When he made no further moves or instruction, I hesitantly settled next to him, propping up on my side. “Now what?” 

He shrugged, oddly reserved and staring at the ceiling. “Now I put you down, I guess.” 

My heart melted at his shy behavior, my repressed feelings of love for him flooding me. Jude was many things, bad things, awful things; he was a sadist, cruel to the bone, with a predilection for torment and inflicting suffering on others. But he was so much more than what he wanted to portray to the world; equally good things, beautiful things, that I had been given the privilege to see.  

“What’re you smilin’ at?”

I was broken from my reverie by his query, finding his gaze had left the ceiling to me. I hadn’t realized my lips curled without permission, but I did nothing to cover it. “Nothing.”

He scoffed, suspicion evident in the way he studied me. “Must be somethin’, what with that daft grin.” 

I sulked, frowning. “Don’t be mean.” 

His smirk was almost boyish. “Bein’ mean is what I’m good at.” 

“Among other things.”

“Eh?”

I didn’t respond, recognizing the drop of his guard as my moment to act. I moved quickly, maneuvering my body beneath the arm closest to me, tossing my top arm over his abdomen and resting my head against his chest. I positioned my free arm along my body, hand stationed against my thigh. I felt him take a sharp breath, reveling in rattling him. 

“What the hell are ya doin’?” he groused, body and tone stiff. 

I nuzzled into him playfully. “Getting comfortable.”

Jude made a small sound of outrage. “Get offa me.”

“But I don’t want to,” I whined, glancing up at him. 

“I’ll push yer arse onto the floor,” he threatened with a scowl, violet eyes burning in the moonlight. 

I smiled, unbothered. “Well, do that after you put me to sleep, please.” 

He clicked his tongue, shuffling, yet not pushing me away. “Yer gonna owe me big time for this, [y/n].”

“Add it to my tab,” I quipped with a yawn, breathing in the comforting scent of tobacco and something that I could only identify as Jude. He harrumphed, but placed his fingers gently against my forehead despite his prickly aura. Exhaustion rolled over me from his unique ability, my eyes slipping closed against my will. “Thank you, Jude,” I mumbled, my body growing heavy. “Sleep well.” If he responded, I wouldn’t have heard it. 

I also would never know that Jude didn’t immediately remove me like he swore he would. I would never see his lips curled in a small, bittersweet half-smile, or feel his rough hand stroking my long hair awkwardly, obviously unused to the gesture. And I would never feel him shift forward just so, lightly pressing his lips to the crown of my head with a resigned sigh.  

Only the dark, solemn room would bear witness to the burgeoning feelings of love blooming in the surly man's heart as you slept soundly in his arms.

[shrimpy-kitsune]

🔞this masterlist contains nsft and suggestive works! MDNI

≫ Sexy Ikemen Summer Masterlist!

╰┈➤ find the challenge here. Masterlist will continue to be updated until September 15th 2024. If your work is not on here or if you've encountered any other problems, let me know!

──────────ikevamp

➦ banging ARTHUR in an <ABANDONED MANSION> brought to you by @valkyyriia ≫ LINK

➦ <"accidentally" making your clothes come loose> in order to tease NAPOLEON and VLAD in an <ABANDONED MANSION> brought to you by @maeko-kun ≫ LINK

➦ playing <sexy dress up> with COMTE in a <FITTING ROOM> brought to you by @valkyyriia ≫ LINK

➦ <forgoing underwear on a date> with NAPOLEON where you end up fucking in an <ABANDONED MANSION> brought to you by @fang-and-feather ≫ LINK

──────────ikevil

➦ getting naughty with NIKA <UNDER THE SHADE OF A NICE TREE> brought to you by @drachonia ≫ LINK

──────────ikesen

➦ <blowing cold air on the neck>, <"accidentally" making clothes come loose> and other seduction techniques used in the company of SHINGEN, SASUKE, and YUKIMURA - brought to you by @the12thnightproject ≫ LINK

──────────ikepri

➦ making JIN <sexily work up a sweat> as a prelude to fucking him at <YOU RICH FRIEND'S SUMMER VILLA> brought to you by @xxsycamore ≫ LINK

[shrimpy-kitsune]

OVERHEAT

╰┈➤ 💜Jin wants you to make yourself at home. He doesn't know that you already have the perfect plan for that.

Jin Grandet x f!Reader; • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Modern AU; Seduction; Pet Names; Sweat; Dirty Talk; Alcohol; Kissing; Neck Kissing; Riding; Vaginal Fingering; Vaginal Sex; Nipple Play; Breast Play • wordcount: 2,830 • masterlist

Part of my Sexy Ikemen Summer Creation Challenge. Prompts: At your rich friend's summer villa + Make them work up a sweat then call them sexy

"I see that you're making yourself at home."

You lean your head against the terrace's threshold, looking at the man helping himself to the drink cabinet with the manner of accommodation only the lord of the house would possess - which he's not - but your eyes are trained on his deft fingers mixing a sweet alcoholic concoction. As predicted, he's quick to shoot a remark to refute your chaff.

"It's what they would've wanted for us, no? We're keeping an eye on their home. Last time I checked the drink cabinet was a part of it."

And you were oh-so kind as to turn down any other kind of payment, you think to yourself, not sure if you want to let the words slip out and accidentally stroke his ego. Not when you want to play with said kindness for a little longer.

"Don't worry, I'm making one for you as well. I saved you the most coquettish glass I found around here too."

"It's appreciated."

Jin catches your gaze briefly before making himself appear engrossed with working the shaker. You'd chuckle if it wasn't successfully impressing you.

"What about you, sweetheart? Are you not enjoying it outside?"

He makes it easier for you, instantly clocking your lingering around the door clad in your pink bikini and how it might not be linked to you simply wishing to watch him prepare the cocktails.

"Mm, I was actually just about to come ask you to help me with something, if you don't mind."

Jin smirks, adding the finishing touch to both glasses in the form of two perfect slices of lime he previously cut.

"Of course I don't mind. Let's take these outside, I was just about to join you."

You smile back and turn around, feeling the sun's veil rest hotly on skin as soon as you step out of the shade. Jin follows, not flinching even when he sets his big, sturdy feet bare on the scorching tiles. He takes the few steps leading to the corner of the terrace occupied by a pair of wooden beach lounges and leaves the cocktails by the small table in the middle.

"Let me guess. You were putting sunscreen on but there's this spot you just can't reach, so you need your boyfriend's hands to the rescue."

You snort at Jin, sitting down on the soft cushioning of the lounge. "It's not that, but I like your imagination. I'll keep it in mind when I get to the sunscreen. First I need to decide where I want to lay, so…"

"Okay, let me move the lounge for you."

Bingo.

"Ahh, you're a saver! Wait, let me show you where I want it."

Rejuvenated, you jump to your feet, walking to a somewhat distant spot of the spacious terrace, looking pleadingly at Jin.

"There? Alright, give me a second."

"Yes, the garden is visible from there and I think it's even lovelier from above. We should walk around it properly later… I think I spotted a few fig trees too, and those flowers that I was telling you about…I still don't know what they're called…"

Letting only a murmur in reply, Jin rolls up his red shirt's sleeves just a little higher to be sure, and gets behind the lounge to push it to where you are.

"Jinnn, get rid of that shirt already. I thought you wanted to sunbathe with me?"

Your plea falls on deaf ears for the duration of the task, but the Jin Grandet you know won't just ignore an undressing request like that. So he makes a show out of dusting off his hands once he's done moving the lounge and reaches to the uppermost button on his chest. "Yeah? Someone's getting impatient to see me naked?"

You already regret asking, but the roll of your eyes is more of an exaggeration than anything.

"Anyway, thank you. It's perfect."

You keep your eyes on Jin as you lie down, retrieving your sunglasses from the top of your head to put them on and make yourself comfortable. The way the seconds drag on agonizingly slowly is killing you, but you know you have to time it right before you speak again, "Actually, Jin…"

"Yes, sugar?"

"I think the sun is too much for me here…" You adjust your sunglasses that now do a great job at subtly ogling Jin's freshly-stripped-down torso. "I wonder if you could possibly-"

"Don't get up."

Oh, that's perfect. You offer Jin a polite little chuckle as you settle back into the beach lounge and leave it to Jin to drag it across the terrace along with you.

He makes it look so easy, pulling it to the more shady parts of the terrace once again. His sturdy backwards steps are slowed down enough to make you indulge yourself in the moment, the way he towers over your back and throws a shadow across your body.

"What do you say about… right here, under the straw umbrella. It lets through some sun."

"Hmmm." You linger on the thought, without paying much mind on it in the first place. "Turn me around, maybe?"

"As you wish."

Jin changes position, going to the feet of the lounge now. When he enters your vision, you see that the sun did wonders with the mini-workout you put him through, quickly turning the efforts into beads of sweat forming all over his toned torso. He's glorious when he leans down to grab a hold of the lounge, letting you fix your eyes on him from above. He knows you're staring, even with the shades on, but whatever.

He's done with your request all too soon. The beads of sweat start running down his body by the time he straightens himself back up, and his height looks even more impressive when you're so close to the ground. The sun creates a soft halo over his chestnut head when you follow his fingers carding through his hair.

"Jin," You start, not even pausing to wonder when your breath has become as rasped as if you were the one doing all the hard work around here, "I think I'm still a little hot."

"Sure you are. Clenching your thighs shut like that, I imagine it's not helping much.

The sudden realization hits you with a shudder, and your legs part open. Jin invites himself in, sinking one knee down between yours before you can grasp a sense of the situation.

"I…"

"What? Don't tell me you don't like it here either."

You turn your head to the side as Jin leans in closer, leaving your neck open for his kisses. There's nothing delicate about them; he can't be patient any longer, roughened by your little games - and you take all the credit for making him like that. While playing coy of course.

"Mm… I think I'm beginning to enjoy myself here."

Jin's teeth graze your skin and he can't help himself letting them linger right there; imprinting their shape on you as he bites your shoulder playfully. He is quick to travel south, making good use of your exposed skin due to the bikini, until his cleavage kisses spread all the way to the thin strap connecting the two triangular patches of fabric over your chest. You look at Jin bewildered and he has the audacity to hold your gaze as he catches the strap between his teeth and yanks your bikini up.

Your breasts bounce free and a gush of indecency creeps through you. Surely there must have been less animalistic ways for your boob-crazed boyfriend to undress you.

Not that you feel like scolding him. Even if he ends up tearing your bikini apart, at the very most you'd smack his cheek before accepting that you'll have to sunbathe topples for the rest of the day. You're quite the opportunist. If that were the case, you're sure you'd use it to your advantage, putting Jin's self-control to the test while secretly seducing him. He wanted to be with someone who matched his sexual energy, he's not allowed to complain now.

While you think of all the could-have-been's, Jin takes a more simple approach at exploring his desires, by putting his face where he likes it most.

"Think 'm beginning to enjoy m'self here as well."

You can tell, if not merely by knowing him all too well, then by the lustful haze in his eyes. His tongue licks a wet stripe across your left breast until the hard nipple is caught between his plush lips, and he sucks on it. That little spark alone sets the pit of your belly on fire and your legs can barely remain still, so you tentatively wrap one of them around Jin's torso. He humps the crevice of your thigh twice and you mewl into the back of your hand, stuck between wanting him to keep sucking and humping you and wanting him to do more. Gradually the latter prevails as it's barely enough for you.

"Jin…"

"Nngh," a guttural sound rolls off Jin's throat the moment your hand trails down to grasp his length through his white shorts. He lets go of your chest, leaving it glistening with saliva, and sits up between your parted legs, caressing one of them all the way to your knee then palming the ball of it, readily, as if about to rearrange you any moment now for a nice fucking. "Tell me something."

There's question in the tone of your voice even if the sound you produce reminds more of a needy moan. Your fingers toy with the ties of your bottom piece, waiting to see if Jin bashes your hand away in favor of unwrapping you himself. But whatever he's going to ask about seems to be more important, so you try to listen.

"What was that all about? You didn't care about sunbathing, did you?"

The delicious bulge in Jin's shorts is very distracting, especially when he times his question with getting rid of them. You wouldn’t want to miss the moment his cock springs out.

"Haha…" You begin, your lips suddenly feeling dry, and you only pick your speech again when you're satisfied with the display of Jin's length sitting up against his abdomen, hot and hard and all yours. "Sue me. You're just so sexy when you work up a sweat."

"So that's what it was. Couldn't think of any other ways to make me work up a sweat?" Jin receives his answer but keeps looking at you, considering something. He gives his cock a nice pump, bottom to top. By now you've come to absolutely loathe the piece of fabric covering you where you're the hottest, and you take matters into your own hands - but Jin's larger hand intervenes, halting your actions as he instead goes for your hip, nudging you to get up.

You stare at him puzzled but comply, letting him switch your places as you find yourself straddling him on the beach lounge.

"Now," he pulls the ties undone on your left side, "Let's see you work up a sweat. What do you say?", then he mimics his actions on the right side, letting the fabric fall and expose your glistening heat.

You suck on a breather, an almost painful throb manifesting between your legs with Jin's request for you to ride him. Had he said that a few minutes ago you'd throw a tantrum, as in your head there hardly was a sexier outcome of this than you lying down being taken by Jin as sweat runs down his body. But for how nonchalant he appears to be, Jin is quite cunning at times. He turns the tables in the one moment he knows you won't be able to refuse him.

And truly, he doesn't need to ask twice. Now completely bare, it's so easy for you to get into position and make sure the tip of his cock kisses your folds ever so titillatingly as you lean in to plant your lips against Jin's. Your right hand finds its way between your legs, enjoying the discovery of your wetness coating the angry-red tip already. Your fingers slip inside your heat, and the promise of something bigger replacing them in just a second makes your toes curl as you prepare yourself.

"C'mon, sweetheart. Guide it in yourself."

Jin's whisper is so raspy as the air of it caresses the side of your face that you have to remember to keep breathing, and you withdraw your fingers. The emptiness inside you calls with another agonizing throb and it's only emphasized by the feeling of Jin in your hand. As you wrap your fingers around his hardness, your slick envelopes him, and you make sure to spread it all over the tip as well. Jin places his sturdy hands in the folds of your knees as they rest on both sides of his abdomen, gently encouraging you. You want to kiss him one last time before your breath is completely stolen, so you do that - but you don't drag it out too long, for neither of you can hold back much longer.

You guide the tip of his hardness inside yourself, and as it catches onto your entrance your walls instantly squeeze around it with a vice-tight grip. Relaxing is harder when you're on top because gravity wants to do its own thing, and you're desperate - but somehow you manage to take it all in, nice and slowly. Jin is huge. You're sure you're never going to get used to it.

"Fuck." He swears, fingernails biting into the paper-thin skin of the crease of your knees, and it sends shivers down your spine. It makes you move up on Jin, and then all too soon fall back down. The feeling is overwhelming, but you can't help wanting more. So you repeat the motion; once and twice and then the wet sounds of you fucking yourself on Jin's cock reach your ears, so you know you've fallen into that lustful dance.

Jin reaches up and grabs a hold of your bouncing breasts, because of course he does, and it enhances the hot feeling inside you. His cock fills you up so nicely, as you drag yourself up and down his length, that you feel like your body moves on its own chasing after the pleasure.

"Do it faster," Jin instructs, and you change position, letting your legs fall to the tiles as you grasp the headrest of the beach longue for purchase without pausing for a second, "Yeah, just like that. Fuck, you feel so good."

The new angle makes it so easy to bounce up and down on Jin, and you take maximum advantage of that, destined to fuck him until the thirst of both of you is clenched. Moans spill from your parted lips, and you chant his name oh-so easily as you feel your orgasm approaching.

Jin's hands leave your breasts only for them to settle on your waist instead. He easily slows you down without using much of his strength, and you whimper at the loss of the delicious build-up he deprived you of. But you're proud to see him just as worked-up as you are.

You use the moment to place some playful kitten licks on his collarbones. The salty taste of his skin all but turns you on more, and you're quite drunk on him. Without noticing, you’ve started grinding down on him again, impatient as you are.

Jin groans and supports your naughty acts, thumbs digging into your hips. He flashes you a wanton look before taking the reins, thrusting his pelvis up.

"Ahhh!!" The moan rips out of your throat, and you don't have room to collect more air before Jin starts earnestly fucking into you from below.

"You're gonna cum all over me? Let me feel you get so tight?"

"Ahhh-Yes, yes- Jin- oh God-"

The sounds of skin slapping against skin and the powerful thrusts make you lose control, and before you know it you're soaring; a powerful orgasm whips through you and your walls clamp down on Jin's cock, hard. Your head is still in the clouds when the telltale groan of Jin following you comes to your ears, and you moan as the hot mass inside you is rapidly removed, making your juices leak out with a small gush. The sensation of hot ropes of cum spraying on your naked skin all but heightens the tingling that still courses through your nethers, and Jin's erotic face is a rewarding sight through your own lens of pink haze.

"Aww…" You let the tiredness in your limbs settle in along with the afterwaves of pleasure as you slide your body down against Jin's, the mixture of your fluids trapped in between. "This calls for a bath."

Jin's hand maps the width of your sun-warmed back, caressing you softly.

"It does. We've yet to check out the water pressure of their showerhead."

"J-Jin!"

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[shrimpy-kitsune]

I LOVE a sweet toji fic!!!

18+ mdni; gn!reader

i talk about toji being okay with you not making eye-contact with him during sex because he knows that you're just overwhelmed, right? it's because he simply loves to feel your lips against his skin when you hide your face in the crook of his neck because that's how he knows he's taking good care of you, right?

fuck no.

those are not the only reasons.

if you look toji in the eyes while he's fucking you, he will cream his pants like a fucking teenager who's just seen a pair of tits for the first time.

when he has you on your back with your heels digging into his lower back and with your hands clawing at your back, his own arms barely supporting his body as he sinks into you; you look beautiful like this – a layer of sweat covers your body and he thinks about licking it all up, your bitten lips are parted and the sounds that spill from you cloud toji's mind like a drug. you're writhing and you're squirming, squeezing around his cock so tight that he feels like he's about to pass out.

and then... your eyes.

eyebrows scrunched together, you stare up at him and toji thinks he's going to die instead. tears brim in the corners while your pupils are blown wide, a mix of pleasure and adoration swimming in the dark orbs as he brings you closer and closer to another high. oh, he thinks you look like a fucking painting. like you belong in a museum.

the way you're looking at him is making his cock twitch inside you and that in turn makes you blink at him. you flutter your eyelashes while pressing your heels deeper into his back, silently begging for more.

"f-fuck..."

toji's head falls as he squeezes his own eyes shut. he feels like he's on fire. he feels like he's about to fucking explode. he's going to cum just because you're looking at him with nothing else but love in your eyes. he feels stupid for it – a little embarrassed that such a simple thing is getting to him so easily, but when he feels your hand on his jaw, cradling him like he's something that could break – the shame fades.

the combination of meeting your gaze once again, the care in them, and the love you offer him, makes the knot in his belly snap.

you caress his cheek as you hold your eyes on him, eager to watch him unfold in front of you. a fucked out smile makes its way to your lips and toji's heart skips a beat at the sight. he's never felt weaker, he's never felt more loved. oh, you're something alright.

he also can't handle your eyes whenever you're giving him head. he simply cannot do it. he does love watching you, he really fucking loves it – how you screw your eyes shut, your eyebrows furrowing as you concentrate on your breathing. how the drool pools in the corners of your mouth and how it dribbles down your chin. how your whole body twitches when you gag around him. how small your hand looks on him, how you massage his heavy balls. how pretty you look while doing it all – he's obsessed.

but the second you open your eyes and look back up at him... he's throwing his head back and hiding behind his arm. and while the view of his neck does get you to rub your own thighs together in want – it's not enough.

you want more.

taking your lips off his cock and ignoring the line of spit that connects you to it, you patiently wait for him to look at you. you even stop jerking him off, just resting your hand around his base. his dick twitches and another glob of pre-cum trickles from his tip.

"toji?"

your voice is as sweet as ever and he knows it's a trap. he grumbles back at you in hopes of convincing you to continue, but he's wrong. merely giving his base a squeeze, you watch how the older man buck his hips into your fist.

"look at me."

he won't, he won't, he won't. you're evil, you're awful, you wish to torture him until he dies. this is how it all ends for him. he won't.

"please..."

his balls twitch and his his body burns. he needs to cum so fucking bad but he hates looking like an actual old man, who can't keep his shit together.

"look at me, baby."

it's more of a demand now and he can't resist you. he never has and he never will. whatever you say goes – if you tell him to jump off a damn cliff, he will do so. if you want to break him just like you're doing right this moment, then so be it. he's all yours.

his arm falls from in front of his face and his green eyes crack open to the most glorious sight in the world. you look completely fucked out and your hair is a mess, your lips and your chin are all covered in spit and he thinks of you as an angel of some sort.

you give him a smile and his hips buck into your fist again, but you don't tease him for it – you want him to feel good. so you press a kiss to his sticky tip as you hold his lust-filled gaze and it's enough for him to blow his load all over your gorgeous face.

you lap at his tip like a kitten, collecting the few drops that threaten to escape while still pumping him with your one hand and massaging his balls with the other. toji grips the sheets below with both his hands – his fingers tug at the material so hard that they almost rip but neither of you care.

you worshipping his cock, or better yet worshipping him, is baffling to him. but he's not complaining. you take him into your mouth again, eyes still on his, you wrap your lips wrap around his tip and push him into overstimulation.

curses tumble from his scarred lips like they're the only words he knows and you can't help but smile while still having him him in your mouth. you're covered in his cum and now you're fucking grinning up at him – he really does think he's about to pass away. there's no way this is real, that you're not something his mind conjured up to plague him with. your hands feel godly and your mouth feels so fucking warm. no, this is it – he's officially dying.

taking your lips off of him with a pop, your smile widens even more as you give him an 'ahhh!' as if you've just had the best meal of your life and toji doesn't waste a second before pushing off the bed.

"fuck, come here."

his knees hit the floor with a thud as he lunges at you like a starved beast. he grabs your cheeks and pulls you toward him, smashing his lips to yours in a desperate kiss. he needs to feel you, he needs to taste you. he needs to love you.

he needs to give you his all.

[shrimpy-kitsune]

LETS FUCKING GOOOOO

Napo + blowjobs

LETS FUCKING GOOOOO

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐍𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧…

Napoleon + Blowjobs (receiving)

We all know this man is a pleaser, so how often exactly do you get to go down on him? His idea of foreplay puts a heavy focus on toying with his partner - by the time clothes start coming off, you've been kissed a million times, you have marks all over your neck and his hands have already mapped your still-clothed forms... It goes without saying that while getting handsy with you, and while rubbing your hips all over his tented crouch, he's gotten diamond-hard and ready to plunge into your warm tightness - he will settle for nothing less. While he'll take his time stretching you open, preparing you for his cock with the use of his deft fingers and his devilish tongue, he's more than fine skipping to the good part when it comes to his own pleasure. How else would he get to let out that groan of tasting heaven on the first thrust, all swollen and aching?

You might have to pin him down and sit on his legs in order to get to play with him... but once you do, it proves to be rewarding, and not just for him.

Napoleon's eyes often darken with dominance when he has sex with you, but when you suck him off, it's a completely different story. Albeit a bully in the bedroom, Napoleon fucks you like a lover. When he's deep inside you, easily maneuvering you in the position he desires, that's him taking from you - but also giving to you; he's cruel but only at the cost of driving you mad with pleasure on the flipside.

When you suck him off, however, he's Napoleon, the emperor. The moment you put his hardness in your mouth, you realize there's nothing else to it; you're simply pleasuring him, and he's simply going to sit there and enjoy it. And does he enjoy it far more than he lets out.

It could take him a few moments, to fully give into it. He'll want you to start slow, for your own sake. He'll brush the unruly strands of hair out of your face, delicately, one side and then the other. If you need it, he might even gather all of your hair in his big hand; not twisting it, not closing his fist around it - he doesn't want to hurt you accidentally, now, does he? - just so it would be easier for you. Of course he'd make sure to make it easy for you in any way possible, when hasn't he helped you, with anything there could be? Even if it's a different story and he knows it damn well. There it is, the glimpse of his greediness showing, even though he prides himself on keeping it at bay.

When you're taking him in too deep, he'll be mindful to prevent you from choking... he'll groan and his sharp jaw will be tilted just a tad upwards from where you have a good look at it, but he'll grit his teeth and push you off him, as gently as he could. He'll push the pleasure to the back of his mind for a second, even if it eats at him, because you always come first. And when you're playing with fire, being naughty on purpose, he'll knit his brows and scold you because he's too impatient to select his words more thoroughly.

If you managed to get him to keep his hands to himself this far in, that's good for you... but you won't have the same luck once he gets close to coming. It's not that he doesn't want you to finish what you started, oh no... it's just that it's far more pleasurable for him to take control of his upcoming orgasm. Once out of your mouth, he'll wrap his fist around the base of his cock, push it past your glistening lips again, rub it tentatively on the inside of your cheek. You might wrap your lips around him and resume the suction just to tip him over the edge, but ultimately he'll be pumping himself to culmination with the feeling of your tongue on his swollen glans, thirsty for every last drop. Because that's how he likes it. If his virile spurts happen to miss their target and splash on your face, now that won't be so bad either. You know it isn't, because of the look he has in his eyes. If there's a part of his brain not taken over by the primality, what is it thinking about? How no other person has the privilege of doing this to you? Perhaps it's that.

In the next second Napoleon sucks on a breather, putting effort in stabilizing his breathing in no time, because he has to check up on you. He's asking you about the tears he saw in the corner of his eyes, and if your throat hurts, and he has no damn clue his voice still drips with dark desire. He might wipe your face clean, but his hands are definitely going to linger, thumb stroking your cheek because even if his come is all cleaned, he won't be forgetting the sight of your skin streaked hotly with it. Don't be fooled by the softness of his eyes.

8/10 ❝ Haah... When I praise you like that, you start sucking me so enthusiastically... aren't you a little too naughty? Do you enjoy it when I claim you here as well? Makes me wonder if - nghh - if your insides are aching for me, wishing I was fucking you there instead? Don't look at me with those eyes. You know I'll give you my cock wherever you want it, as long as you're being good and patient. ❞

-> (ALWAYS OPEN) send me a kink & I'll give you a headcanon and rating for Napoleon!

🦶foot fetish 🥵breeding kink 🥕pregging 😈dom/sub 🍈breast kink ⛓bondage 🩸period kink 👄marking 🐺predator/prey 🏙public sex 🤗praise kink 👅 cunnilingus

[shrimpy-kitsune]

At five feet nothing myself, this really hit home lol

“stubborn”

fluff, sickening fluff

toji fushiguro x reader

Synopsis: you finally ask your boyfriend Toji to help you with something after months of pushing him away

to sum it up: reader is a stubborn, independent woman who despises asking for help, but you're just too short to reach your top-shelf

WC: 1,778

Warning(s): none

Toji knew he was done for when his heart flipped after you had asked him such a simple question, so stubbornly and quietly, your arms crossed over your chest and eyes casted to your feet.

“What was that, doll?” he asked you, smugness clear in his tone.

“Shut the hell up.”

You had to be one of the most stubborn people he had met right after himself. You were a small, pretty thing. Toji was twice your size and towered over you like a damn skyscraper. At first glance, he hadn’t taken you for someone with such a persistent habit of trying to handle everything on your own, but you surely had proved him wrong. 

In the two months you had spent together, the assassin had watched you turn down his help time and time again. 

He offered you money if you mentioned that you were a little low on funds? Hell no, you were finding a way to rack up the change you needed for your next meal. You couldn’t find what you were looking for in the store? You’d turn down his offer to ask a clerk and wander the isles for damn near forty-five minutes before you finally found what you were looking for. Someone was giving you the stink eye as you walked by? You didn’t need him to defend you, you’d turn around and tell the stranger off yourself.

Toji had to admit, he admired how dedicated you were to handling yourself. He found it attractive, how much of an independent woman you were. Half the time he hardly even felt like you needed him around. He was your boyfriend, sure, but you never let him do the things that ‘boyfriends’ typically did. You spent plenty of time together and stayed over at each other’s places, but getting him to kill a spider or put together a new work desk or help you move around your furniture was never something you expected, asked, or even wanted him to do. 

Toji almost didn’t know what to do with himself. Here you were, a young woman hardly taller than his pectoral muscle, pushing him away anytime you were clearly struggling when you had full access to a ginormous mountain of a man over six feet tall. While he commended you for your hardened spirit, he worried for you just the same. You were more willing to wear yourself down to nothing for the sake of your stubborn pride rather than to ask him to pick you up from work after putting in overtime. 

At times, he almost felt foolish as your partner. He was there to help you, and when you still didn’t want the help he willingly offered after weeks, he had begun to grow annoyed.

You both were pretty horrible at expressing your feelings and relying on people other than yourselves. You were both incredibly self-sufficient, and you came together because you enjoyed each other’s company rather than depended on it. Toji enjoyed being with someone who could hold their own, but did you really have to hold your own to such a drastic extent? Hell, he had found himself asking you for more things than you’d ever ask for him. Since when had he become the vulnerable person in the relationship (though his definition of vulnerability was hardly the same as an ordinary person’s)? 

He knew that he cared for you and was only falling deeper into your relationship, so he wanted you to rely on him more. He wanted you to ask him for things. He wanted to give you more than what you needed. He wanted to give you the world.

But you never appeared to ‘need’ or ‘want’ anything outside of his company and presence. 

He loved it and hated it at the same time.

So when you approached him where he lounged on your couch, lips twisting and leg bouncing, looking surprisingly bashful for such a tough woman, and fighting against yourself internally to ask him quietly:

“Can you help me with something?”

His heart burst and his mouth fell agape. 

“...Heh?” he squinted, leaning forward and craning his neck as if he hadn’t heard you.

You flushed, crossing your arms tightly and chewing on the inside of your lip. You looked so angry with yourself for coming to him, but you truly had no other choice in the matter. Besides, you and Toji had shared enough disputes about your hesitation to open up and seek his shoulder to lean on. He wanted to take care of you. You were his girl after all, and he was practically useless as a man if he wasn’t there for you when you needed assistance. 

You closed your eyes tightly and opened them again, looking off to the floor in embarrassment. “I need your help… reaching something on the top shelf…”

Then and there, Toji realized just how doomed he was. He felt fireworks burst, heard bells ring. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, for he almost had to pinch himself to ensure that he hadn’t fallen asleep in your living room and wasn’t dreaming up this entire conversation.

But no, this was real. You, his gorgeous, stubbornly independent girlfriend, who wouldn’t have dared to ask him for help with anything over the course of the two months you had been together, had finally approached him with a rather mundane task. 

And you looked like it was destroying from the inside out to do so. You would have thought that you’d just asked him to strip down completely before her and do jumping jacks by looking at your bashful face… as a matter of fact, you probably would have looked far less tightly wound if you had been asking him to do something as ridiculous as that.

Toji smiled, a warmth spreading over his chest. 

“What was that doll?”

“Shut the hell up.”

He chuckled lowly, pushing himself to his feet to stand before you. You didn’t look at him, too humiliated to meet his eye as his hand curved over the side of your neck, his frame towering over you. He tilted his head to look at you, lips quirking up in a smirk. “You askin’ for my help, baby?”

You were visibly fuming, jaw clenching and unclenching, lips puckered forward in an adorable pout. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Ask me again.”

“Fuck you.”

“Come on, you getting this worked up over asking for my help?” he murmured, leaning down. “Ask me again.”

“Why are you getting off on this, you freak?” you bit, snapping your fiery eyes to meet his. Toji melted. He just loved that fire in you.

“I’m not getting off on it. I’m just pleasantly surprised, is all.” His hand dragged down to your waist, holding you gently. “Why ask me now, all of a sudden? What’s at the top of the shelf?”

Your nose flared as you hesitated once more. God, you were absolutely adorable. 

“A bowl,” you answered stiffly.

He raised a brow. “A bowl?”

“Stop asking so many damn questions! Will you help me or not?” you frowned, face heating.

“Not until you tell me what you need it for,” he teased, and you growled. He was having entirely too much fun with this, but how could he not? It was your first time asking him for anything. He had to make the most of this moment and treasure it.

“Toji, stop being an asshole.”

“Just tell me what you need it for, baby, and I’ll do whatever you want.”

You rolled your eyes, grinding your molars together. “I wanted to start trying out baking…”

Toji smiled. “That’s all?”

“Yes, that’s all, and I need the big glass bowl at the top of the shelf to make you these fucking brownies with the new recipe I found.”

He laughed, thoroughly amused by the whole ordeal. “You wanna bake for me?”

“It was gonna be a surprise, but I can’t…” you swallowed your pride, practically choking on it while doing so. “I can’t reach. Haven’t been able to since after I moved here. Used to have a stepping stool, but I can’t find it.”

Toji couldn’t believe how happy he felt to have heard that stupid request come from you. His stomach was doing flips and his smirk was brightening, leading you to believe that he was making fun of you.

“Shut up, Toji!” you whined before he had even responded.

“C’mere,” he pulled you into him by your waist, your face colliding with his chest. He kissed the top of your head sweetly, rubbing your back. “You’re cute, you know that?”

“Whatever,” your voice was muffled by his shirt, arms hanging limply at your sides as you flushed furiously.

“Of course I’ll help you, doll. ‘Coulda asked me a long time ago. It’s just a bowl.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up and do it before I find a way to climb up there myself.”

Toji pulled away to look down at you, green eyes gleaming tenderly with affection. “What’s the magic word?”

You glared at him. “I’ll kill you.”

He shook his head, entirely too please with himself. “Nuh uh. Try again, or no bowl for your brownies.”

“That harms you more than it does me!"

“Say the magic word, doll.”

Your blood was boiling, heart pounding with the shame and anxiety of vulnerability. You knew he wasn’t going to let you off the hook unless you indulged him, but you knew why and he had good reason. 

He wanted you to ask him for things, and that desire of his was sweet enough for you to indulge him.

“...Please.”

You ruined him, truly. You had asked him to carry out such a small task, one that in the end would be serving him and not even yourself, but had taken everything within you to muster up the strength to even walk over to him after battling against it for so long. 

He was proud of you. Your first steps were small, but they were steps further toward him nonetheless, and he couldn’t have been more grateful. He would have grabbed a million bowls off of a million shelves for you if it meant that you finally felt comfortable enough to rely on him for something. 

He was done for, because he knew at that moment that he had fallen so deeply in love with you. You in all of your stubborn glory.

His smile crinkled his weary eyes as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. He pulled back to find that your angry pout hadn’t gone away, leading him to kiss you again. “Atta girl. Now show me that shelf you're talkin' about.”

[shrimpy-kitsune]

"megumi is annoyed with gojo for getting distracted with you and being late for everything because of it, so he makes it his life’s mission to ruin gojo’s chances of dating you..."

fluff, crack

gojo has a severe issue with constantly following you like a puppy dog wherever you go. after that day he had run into you on a whim at the park, your pretty (e/c) eyes locking with his as you both shared passing glances the moment your shoulders brushed, he was stuck to you. gojo stopped dead in his tracks, calling out to you and asking what your name was. you turned over your shoulder, stuttering to a stop upon realizing that handsome guy had been talking to you. you told him your name, that you attended the university down the block, and he was set.

gojo was sure to secure your number before you parted ways that day, approaching you as interested in friendship rather than someone completely enamored by your beauty and desperate to get to know you more. he would text you every day, from then on, pressing further about your hobbies and inserting himself into your daily routine, which you fortunately did not mind. the two of you end up spending a lot of time together, thoroughly enjoying each other’s presence.

megumi, ten years old, witnesses gojo’s clinginess with you fast because it quickly has an affect on how often gojo fulfills his responsibilities in looking after him. megumi remembers the first time gojo forgot about him because he was distracted by you. he had been meant to purchase and drop of megumi’s weekly groceries, but he ran into you at the supermarket and ended up helping you take your groceries home instead. megumi had to wait three hours for gojo to bring him his next week’s supply of food. things like this continued to happen the longer you to knew each other, but megumi knows it isn’t your fault that gojo is attached to you at the hip and flirts with you shamelessly but won’t muster up the courage to tell you he likes you. 

megumi’s last straw is when he is left stranded outside of his elementary school for forty-five minutes because he ran into you “eating at a cafe by yourself and you needed company.” the ten year old watches gojo pull up slowly with you in the passenger’s seat, waving at him apologetically with a kind smile. his blood boils as gojo smiles, shrugging bashfully and saying he lost track of time. megumi decides with a hastiness that he would ruin every chance gojo takes to flirt with you after the twenty one year old suddenly announces that he is driving twenty minutes opposite of his house to drop you off at your dorm. 

gojo first senses something is off when you are over at megumi’s house one day after school, looking for snacks in the cabinets. gojo and megumi are sitting at the kitchen island while megumi does his homework and gojo watches you move around with a soft smile on his lips, chin propped in his palm. you turn over your shoulder and ask the two if they have any chips, to which megumi beats gojo to answering: “gojo ate them all. he’s always eating everything in my house. i try to get him to stop, but i guess he just gets too hungry.” the white haired man slowly turns to face megumi as you carry on about your business, eyes wide and a mortified smile on his face. megumi doesn’t look at him, continuing his english homework. 

gojo knows he’s being targeted the second time around, when he suggests that you sleep over in his room because it is getting late and megumi advises you not to because he allegedly saw a nonexistent redhead leaving his room last night and is ‘worried about your exposure to lice.’ gojo chases the spikey haired kid around his living room later on after you inevitably go home, threatening to take him back to the zenin clan. 

the day megumi outright proposes that you get a boyfriend during a car ride over to your campus, gojo almost loses control of the steering wheel and decides he has to keep you as far away from megumi as possible. megumi gets his wish when gojo begins to pay more attention to the days he’s supposed to pick him up from school and separates his days with you from them accordingly, but megumi doesn’t plan to let this slide so easily. for weeks, he suffered the aftermath of gojo getting distracted by being your shadow, and for weeks gojo would suffer his karma.

when he hears you on the phone with him, megumi barges in the room and loudly asks to talk to you. you, overhearing, welcome the conversation gladly and ask gojo to hand over the phone while he glares animatedly at the boy’s blank face. he has to wait twenty minutes for megumi to finish talking monotonously about his day into the speaker, and by the time gojo gets his phone back, you have to head to a meeting with your classmates. the call ends and gojo ponders over why his kid is praying so intently over his downfall. 

and of course there are the days when you ask to come over to see gojo and megumi, and gojo is physically incapable of refusing quality time with you or telling you no in any regard. he practically begs megumi on his knees to behave five minutes before you arrive, to which the fushiguro blatantly ignores. the blue eyed sorcerer is fuming with rage as he sits across from you and megumi, watching as you help him with his science project after him asking for your assistance, a stunning, bubbly grin on your face. gojo’s initial frustrations shift into envy for your attention, and before you know it he’s pouting with his arms crossed in silence. 

megumi is satisfied with himself, concluding that gojo is officially fed up and has given up completely on pursuing you. he commends himself mutely for his successes after working so hard, though his actual enjoyment of your tranquil company made the experience more tolerable. he runs off to take a shower when you’re grabbing your belongings, preparing to uber back to your dorm. normally gojo pesters you about letting him drive you home when you’re over, so when he only flashes you a smile and holds the door for you as you walk through, you immediately think something is wrong.

the blue eyed man’s lips press together, eyes blank as he shakes and tells you everything is okay. your eyes slim in suspicion as you look over his face, unconvinced by his horrible lying skills. you ask again and he smiles again, telling you he is fine and to go enjoy the rest of your day without him. you furrow your brows in confusion before realizing that you had been busy with little megumi all day and hardly paid attention to your friend. he’s jealous. you giggle, and find it cute the way his half smile melts and he broods, perplexed by your laughter. 

you tease your friend of a few months, telling him that the next time you hang out, you two will spend the day alone. pink rises to gojo’s cheeks. “you still wanna spend time with me?” he asks and you scoff. “yeah, why wouldn’t i?” “i don’t know, i just thought megumi convinced you not to like me…”

you laugh again, the sound ringing like church bells in his ear. you tell him he’s ridiculous for getting worked up over a ten picking on him and puffs his lips and rolls his eyes. you know there is a mutual attraction shared between you and gojo. you’ve liked him since the second he asked for your number, but never said anything because he limited your relationship to what you assumed ws platonic flirting. now, watching him pout over the thought that megumi pushed you away makes you realize that there may be something real to his attachment to you.

a smug smile lifts to gojo’s face and his mood immediately improves. he tells you he’ll pick you up from your math class tomorrow for a ride, just the two of you. you hum in agreement and lean up to your tiptoes, holding the side of his face with your fingers and pressing a kiss to his cheekbone. “it's a date,” you say. you pull away and his expression is dopey, eyes dazed and grin bright. 

megumi runs back into the living room at the wrong time. he goes to grab his bookbag from the sofa and return it to his room when he catches a glimpse of the horror, his face scrunching in disgust as you peck gojo’s cheek at the front door. megumi turns grim, mourning over his failed plan. oh well, he tried. he wishes you luck dealing with that freak, and figures that the next time gojo annoys him, he can just save himself half the trouble and log him out of the shared netflix account.

you are halfway out the door, smile making your cheeks ache and heart bursting, when you hear megumi shouting from inside. “wash your mouth when you get home, (y/n)! you don’t know where he’s been!” you hear the front door slam and dramatic, muffled complaining follow as you walk to your uber stifling a laugh.

[shrimpy-kitsune]

Oui, mon empereur!!

KING'S GAME

╰┈➤ ❝ I just need to know in case…❞ ❝ In case what? In case you take it a little too far in role-playing? In case you go down on me and the words mon empereur leave your lips? ❞ - After a round of some silly drinking game, MC can't help but have certain thoughts about Napoleon and how easily he takes on the role of someone in power. Naturally, she wants to know his boundaries of it.

Napoleon Bonaparte/MC • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Drinking Games; Alcohol; Shenanigans; Humor; Sexual Tension; Massage; Kink Negotiation; Sexual Roleplay; Power Play; Dominant Napoleon; Dom/sub; Master/Servant; Blow Jobs; Oral Sex; Choking; Dacryphilia; Stripping; Dirty Talk; Vaginal Fingering; Begging; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Aftercare • wordcount: 6,055 • masterlist

a/n: The idea for this fic was conceived long before an event of the same theme came to Ikevamp EN... We ended up not seeing them all play together in the game so I hope this right here fixes that, maybe? I have no idea how it ended up being that long. I guess I've been looking for the right opportunity to explore this part of Napoleon's character in a smut fic, namely his feelings about being called emperor and the likes in the bedroom. Hope you enjoy!

"Oh, I know! How about we play the Ousama game? It's a popular drinking game back home, in my era!"

It's rare for MC to be the one initiating activities on game nights, so naturally, all eyes are on her. Dazai is quick to give his enthusiastic approval, wanting to know more about a game that came after his time but originates from his homeplace. Sebastian smiles in a similar fashion.

"Good pick, MC. I think our residents are going to like it. Will you please excuse me for a second?"

As Sebastian stands up from the table and dashes out of the room, someone's comment oh my god, he's totally fetching his diary, can be heard. But really, there are no hard feelings. Everyone's more than happy to welcome Sebastian at the table and see him being more open and relaxed around his masters for once. Maybe it does have to be documented.

"It's not something like Arthur's games, I assume?" Isaac directs his gaze at MC, almost pleading under the surface for an affirmative response.

She rubs awkwardly at the back of her neck. As much as she hates to disappoint him…

"Erm, it's basically a game of dares… but don't worry, you can always refuse a dare!"

"That's it, if you want to take the punishment, Newt." Arthur seems ready to dance on the physicist's nerves with a complimenting chin-cupping stance, elbows rested on the table and all. Theo rolls his eyes.

"Let me guess. Refuse a dare and drink a shot."

"That's correct." MC nods before Arthur can take more liberties at orchestrating her own game, even if they happen to be thinking in the same direction. "Let me go get what we need for the game!"

By the time Sebastian is back and patting his breast pocket suspiciously, so is MC, with a handful of… chopsticks. And a fountain pen.

"So, what I'm going to do now is write a number for each one of us… Vincent, Theo, Arthur, Isaac, Mozart, Dazai, Sebastian, Napoleon, and I…so that means numbers 1 to 8, and on the ninth chopstick, I'm going to write Ousama - which means 'King' - and then we shuffle the chopsticks in a cup - Arthur, can you pass me the empty cup next to you? - then we each take one but without showing our numbers to the others. Whoever gets the Ousama chopstick becomes King and he places a dare for someone, using the numbers! Is everything clear?"

"Uh. What kind of dares are allowed?"

Napoleon nods at the direction the question originates from. "Good point. Hey, maybe tone it down with the sexual stuff. There are taken people at the table."

Arthur snaps, "Why are you looking at me? I wasn't intending to. Besides, if a dare doesn't stand right with you, you can always drink and avoid it!"

Memories of other game nights seem to flood multiple minds at once, so MC lets out a half-chuckle half-sigh and moves on. She does take a mental note of the hint of possessiveness in Napoleon's comment just now who instantly got worried about another man being prompted to touch her inappropriately. As if anyone has the balls to touch Napoleon's woman, she thinks to herself… and kind of likes the way it sounds in her head.

It's a shame that Leonardo and Comte aren't joining them tonight and are instead enjoying a more sane way of getting alcohol in their system, in some quiet corner of the mansion. And Comte is totally not smoking a cigarillo right now while talking to his old friend, claiming that he hasn't had one in forever, again. And for that matter, Jean's presence is missed as well, but sadly (although understandably) he dislikes partaking in such activities. He's a lot like Mozart in this regard, with the difference that Mozart becomes another person when he drinks some. And that person loves joining drinking games with his buddies!

"If we're all ready - here we go!"

MC gives the cup a rather unnecessary bartender-style shake, assuring the chopsticks are well shuffled and ready to make it to all the wrong hands.

Once placed on the table, a crowd of hands quickly reach into the cup and sneakily withdraw in order to hide their new secret identity, with the exception of one person who has nothing to hide.

"I'm the king. My, I wasn't prepared for this."

As Sebastian holds up the chopstick of fate high in the air for all to see, a few pairs of surprised eyes catch his own. And something like a shimmer lights up in Sebastian's ones.

For someone as unprepared as him, he surely doesn't waste time on thinking about his next move. Not at all.

"Number 6, exchange a clothing item with number 1. Number 3, take off your pants without using your hands. And number 4 must do a handstand."

"By Jove, Sebas, your fetishes are showing!" Arthur blinks, both surprised and somehow entertained by the turn of events which (in his own head) kicks him off the position of number one most perverted person around the table. Or at least for the time being. He's only smiling now because he's safe, being the lucky number 7 and out of Sebastian's fantasies.

Isaac and Theo can't say the same. They exchange a look - eyes traveling up and down each other's frames - looking for a convenient clothing item to exchange, given their different builds. Theo is done with his choice first, and he reaches over the table to undo Isaac's necktie. The smaller man averts his gaze, turning his head away as much as he can so it's not in Theo's way, or perhaps out of embarrassment, but it's over before it ever began thanks to Theo's rough but effective methods of freeing the cloth from under his collar. Using the chance coming with the shortened distance, Isaac snatches Theo's scarf in return as the most adequate thing to take.

"Aw, you two are boring." Napoleon mocks for change, drumming his fingers on the table with a smirk. Theo muses with the thin black tie in his hands, turning to Napoleon with an empty look and silently wrapping it around his forehead instead, tying it off at the side.

"Is this better?"

"Snrk. I don't know, what do we think, Sebas?"

"I approve of your new look, Master Theodorus. Or should I drop the 'Master'? I'm the King now, after all."

MC gasps, "Sebas! Oh, this game is dangerous…"

"Tell me about it. My first dare and I already have to drink. Woe is me." Dazai weeps, rising up from his seat to point at his hakama, making it impossible for him to complete the take off your pants without hands dare.

"Guess that leaves me." Napoleon sighs, pushing his chair back audibly as he stands up.

"Ooh! Go for it, Naps!"

"Good thing it went to someone who's in good shape. I bet it's a piece of cake for him."

"We'll see now." Napoleon smirks to himself, rubbing his hands together as he prepares to tackle the handstand. His eyes get serious for a second as he calculates it all, and in the next moment, his hands are flat against the floor changing the center of his weight. While he's upside down, the gravity makes his partly untucked shirt expose his abs.

Someone whistles, and MC finds herself staring. As if for the first time.

All too soon, Napoleon is back on his feet again, dusting off his palms and retaking his seat by the table. Sebastian is beaming. "I like this game. Thank you for the idea, MC."

"Thank you, MC." Mozart chimes in, for some reason, oblivious to Sebastian making history tonight as opposed to quietly observing it from the side like usual.

"Haha, you guys are welcome… so, let's do it again, shall we? Let's see who will be King this time around~!"

After the new shuffle of chopsticks, everyone seems a little more lively, a little more hopeful - some driven by revenge and some simply by the contagious evil brewing in the air.

"Who is King?"

Out of the people looking at their newly acquired chopsticks, Napoleon is the one who speaks up.

"I guess that would be me."

"It's Napoleon, huh…"

"Oh, how fitting! You were born for it, Naps."

"Haha, not really."

"My bad. You're an emperor, not a king. I'm so sorry, Your Majesty."

Napoleon snorts, not playing along - or perhaps his dismissing the extended apology is his way of playing along. MC raises an eyebrow, studying his reaction. Napoleon's attitude towards these things is… rather complicated, as he seems to both loathe his so-called days of glory and simultaneously accept them for what they are, a part of him. She's been confused more than once about what's a good way of navigating through the situation when the topic is brought up in their conversations. On one hand, she hates the change of expression on his face that makes her feel like winter has returned - even if it's never going to feel to her like how it felt to him, the cruel winter - on the other, she knows he hates it when people walk on eggshells around him.

But now they're all at least half-drunk and merely goofing around. No one's bothered to care about these things, and maybe Napoleon prefers they don't anyway.

"Number 5, hold three ice cubes in your mouth until they melt. Number 4, confess about a fetish you have in front of everyone. Number 2, crack an egg over Number 7's head. Number 1, give me a massage."

"N-Napoleon is a sadist!!"

"So cruel…"

And he's laughing too. Sadistic tendencies aside, his laughter sounds every bit as genuine (and loud) as MC always remembers it to be, and it's strangely soothing. Maybe she should refuse a dare just for the shot, just to drown her worries a little more… Taking a look at her chopstick again because she thinks she heard her number, she sees a 1.

Theo goes somewhere, for ice presumably, despite Sebastian's offer to do it in his stead, and Arthur follows. "Wait, I'll go for the eggs."

"Who got the fetish one?" Napoleon browses the faces of the ones left at the table to spot the flushed one. Vincent raises a hand.

"My fetish is, um… I don't really-"

"Come on Vincent-kun, we all have fetishes~"

"I think I could say… maybe… um.."

"Yes? Go on, say it. We won't judge."

"I'd love it if my partner would touch themselves and let me watch."

"That's perfectly normal, Master Vincent. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"Woah, it's both very vanilla and somehow kinky at the same time..." MC muses out loud. "Oh, but nothing to be ashamed of, certainly!"

Arthur and Theo return, with the latter immediately taking note of Vincent's beet-red face.

"What did I miss? Broer?"

"The fetish dare… Don't worry, Theo, I just had a shot instead."

"Oh, that's good. I mean, no it's not! Napoleon, how dare you make mjin broer take a punishment!"

"It wasn't really- Anyway, Theo, let's shut you up now."

Theo groans, dragging on every move as if giving the ice a chance to melt as much as possible before the inevitable contact with his mouth. At last, there's nowhere to escape and he pops the cubes in his mouth, thankfully they fit.

"Okay, I've been waiting for this. Who gets an egg in the head?"

"It's me… I hate this game…"

Isaac cards his fingers through his strawberry locks, as if for one last time while they're still egg-free. In the meantime, Theo's expression twists, less out of sympathy and more because the ice begins to torture him from the inside out.

"And the executioner?"

"Master Isaac, I'm truly sorry, it's me." Sebastian raises his gloved hand.

"Ahahaha! Haha!" Mozart laughs at the turn of events seeing a servant disserving his master. Or maybe the reason behind his laughter is nowhere that complex. One thing is certain, for some reason, he always gets out of the bunch's drinking games taking no damage in the form of nasty dares and punishments.

Sebastian stands up reluctantly, then sits down again. "Should I just drink? But I have to remind, I can't hold my liquor very well, I'm afraid."

"Just get it over with. I won't be mad at you or anything."

Sebastian sighs to show a little more reluctance before committing the deed. He looks like he's trying to miss his target, but unfortunately the raw egg still perfectly lands on Isaac's head, quickly descending down his face. Isaac's grossed-out expression mirrors Theo's current agony. As someone hands Isaac a handkerchief to wipe off the sticky mess with, another jokingly calls the sight erotic…

"Alright, I'm ready for my massage. Who shall serve the King?"

Napoleon relaxes back in his seat demonstratively in anticipation. It's a bold invitation, and everyone looks up to see the chosen one.

"My king."

MC stands up, showing her chopstick marked with the number 1. She tries to mute the sound of the others' reactions in her head as suddenly her pulse speeds up.

Napoleon flashes her a grin.

"Very well. The King is expecting you."

He lifts his glass to his lips as he hasn't touched it since the beginning of the game, probably deeming it worthless with the nature of the game. Not that he's expecting to be drinking anytime soon - he's simply not the type to back out from any dare unless it's too ridiculous even for him. Maybe that's why he started to miss the warmth at the back of his throat.

As MC makes her way to where he sits, she witnesses the singular bobbing of his Adam's apple when he gulps down the liquid, and she watches dumbstruck for a second as he motions for her to take a sip if she wants to, from the same glass. Well, yes, she finished her own drink a while ago. She accepts the glass from his hold.

"Now, what kind of massage should I request? Hmm…"

Arthur's dirty remarks fall on deaf ears as MC focuses on not choking on the liquid in her mouth.

Napoleon is a giver.

But there's something damn attractive when he allows himself to take from others.

"The king orders you to rub his shoulders."

And it's damn attractive when he's commanding like that. She sees now what the others were referring to in their provocations earlier - it rolls so, so easily off his tongue when he gives an order like this. Even if it's for a stupid game, the sharp look he gives her feels rather… real.

Not that this is anything new to her. For all Napoleon's gentleness, in the bedroom, he has this side of him that colors him rather dominant. And she'd be lying if she said she's gotten so used to it by now she doesn't feel anything between her legs right this moment. Instead of being a liar, she blames it on the alcohol.

Standing behind Napoleon, MC puts her hands on his broad shoulders… and really, it's been a while since she last gave him a massage. Usually, it's the other way around, as Napoleon added it to his ever-growing list of skills, even if initially it was something he'd never done before, given his status in his past life. Now she has his shoulders all to herself to knead and push at, and she catches herself putting selfishness in the act of service. Because she can't help but have impure thoughts.

Napoleon groans. It's quiet but she catches it over the cacophony of other noises in the room coming from the rowdy bunch. They're already setting things up for the next round, and here she's still stuck on her dare. She doesn't want to go back to her seat. Maybe Napoleon can read her thoughts like he always does and offer her his lap for the rest of the night; maybe he will go further and excuse the two of them for the night-

One hand at work, she reaches the other into the cup because they tell her to, and it appears to be Isaac's turn to be King. Good for him, but bad for everyone else. Seems like it's going to be a long night…

Later in the night and a few more rounds down the line, apples have been eaten without hands, glasses have been downed, a few mounts were the targets of unpleasant substances, either deadly spicy or deadly sweet, some clothes have been removed, some eyes filled with tears - and the collective level of soberness in the room has been drastically lowered.

It's a surprise how they even managed to put an end to it before the sun came out when naturally there's always someone who didn't get a chance to take revenge on someone else. Napoleon and Theo, being the best at holding their liquor as per usual, felt it their duty to help the others to their rooms.

MC didn't have much to drink, otherwise she'd be asleep on the pile of residents by now. Not that she intended to retain some of her soberness, it simply happened - because the bubbling feeling in her chest wasn't caused by alcohol, to begin with.

Napoleon, always the caretaker. Maybe if she throws herself at him he'll carry her to her room as well.

"Goodnight, Theo, go get some sleep." The sound of him returning after separating from Theo interrupts her daydreams.

Once he sees he's all alone with MC, he offers her a smile.

"And we're the last ones again. C'mon Nunuche, let's go to our room."

"Carry me?"

MC tries her best puppy-dog eyes at him, and he tests her for a second like it doesn't work on him. He then gawks at her laziness, hoisting her up his shoulder and giving her ass a little spank. "Let's get you to bed, naughty Nunuche. Some of those guys will be mad at you for weeks, you know? But you better not give them those eyes. Only I get to see them."

"Mm…Napoleon?"

The varnished floorboards creak under Napoleon's steps as he makes his way down the hall, holding MC's weight securely. "Yes?"

"Do you really enjoy it? You know, being treated like a majesty."

It's a short trip, and MC's perspective soon goes back to normal as the floor and the walls swap their places once more before her eyes. Not that she's interested in it, so she throws herself at the bed in the next second, sinking in the welcoming embrace of the comforter, not bothering with removing it at least for the time being.

"Pfft, where did that come from?" Napoleon says while closing the door behind him. The crickets are still singing their songs under their window, it can't be that late in the night.

"From the game. For a second I was worried it left a bad taste in your mouth."

"Hmm." Napoleon fake-muses, kicking off his shoes before sinking one knee on the bed. "I think I liked it when you were the one treating me like a majesty."

"No, don't joke, tell me seriously."

"I am serious though."

Somehow they end up in this position that doesn't help resolve the tension poisoning the air around them one bit; with him caging her with his body on the soft mattress and her having nowhere else to look at but right at his penetrating gaze. Her fingers twitch, nails catching into the fabric of the comforter, seeking a sense of stability.

"I just need to know in case…"

"In case what? In case you take it a little too far in role-playing? In case you go down on me and the words mon empereur leave your lips?"

Like a spark to the kerosene pooling low in her belly, Napoleon's words make beautiful explosions bloom behind her eyelids that have fallen shut amidst the last sentence. She takes a breath but it only feeds the fire as she can't help the way her exhale sounds raspy.

"Would you like that?"

"Would you?"

MC bites on her bottom lip. "This is not about me."

"I thought you wanted to serve your King."

She averts her gaze, because if she looks a little longer at this alluring jade gaze that reeks of sex, she'll be able to feel herself losing her composure, and she's trying to have a serious conversation here.

"I do."

"Hmm." Napoleon plays with her, trailing a hand down her modest home dress, prodding at the buttons at the front. "This is bad, I don't know what to ask for first. I've lost shape."

"Liar. You were perfect at it earlier."

"Someone's been paying attention. Were you also fucking me with your eyes? Right there, at the table?"

MC takes two sharp breaths, and it resembles panting, all too soon. It's out of irritation and not arouse, not yet. When she pictured their little game, she thought she'd just have to bow her head obediently and indulge in her desire to serve. Not enduring Napoleon's verbal teasing as any other night.

"Is it that bad? Will my King punish me now as he sees fit?"

Napoleon looks at her. For all the things that may be at the tip of his tongue, MC imagines most vividly the tone Napoleon would speak them in and how much he's cut for the role. Her soul sings at the thought, but it's nothing holy.

"Get up then. Don't you think it's a little rude to be lying down in my presence?"

That's fair. With renewed vigor, she pushes herself off the bed and waits readily by the side of it.

"Remember to not look me in the eyes. It's forbidden. You'll only look when I allow you to, if I allow you to. You'll have to earn my grace."

Instinctively, MC wants her nod to be accompanied by eye contact, but she corrects her mistake before it can even take place.

"Present yourself. Take it all off."

MC blinks surprisedly at how fast things are happening but isn't against it at all. She has the feeling that he is capable of making her do all sorts of dirty things with a mere flick of his tongue, undressing for him is nothing.

She makes a show of it, despite not having many articles of clothing on her to take off seductively - before long, she's stepping out of her dress that has pooled at her feet, and she retakes her previous position.

"I'm pleased with what I'm seeing. Come closer. Kiss me."

He doesn't have to ask twice. It's something familiar and yearned for since they crossed the threshold of their room—hell, no, since they took a seat at the table for that game. It's welcoming and fulfilling and it's just what she needed-

Or so she thought, until she terribly embarrassed herself with a rather awkward and rigid pressing of lips against lips, and no movement. In her selfishness, and out of habit, she left her mouth open for Napoleon's invasion. But she's forgetting to consider that kings get tired of their conquests too.

She summons her boldness and turns the desire in her veins into fuel for action. She shoves her tongue in Napoleon's mouth, but gently, not with the intention to dominate, but rather to serve. To kiss him until he gets enough. Her tongue swirls against his own, the movement rather clumsy, the making out of a juvenile rather than that of a skillful lover… but it's what he wants. He wants to see her seduce him, use every millimeter of her body for his pleasure, and keep going until he has his fill.

A thin string of saliva connects their lips upon her withdrawal, and her eyes are shut tight. She has to keep them shut, otherwise she'll look right at him. Napoleon chuckles.

"You may open them."

She does, and the sight is not kind on her fragile composure. Locking eyes with Napoleon has never felt like this, like a privilege, and exploring this new feeling is exciting.

"You're not half bad with your mouth. Undress me and put it to use."

Heartbeat thumping in her ears, MC finds it impossible to conduct herself in that moment; to sturdy her hands into performing the task and to break her gaze from his piercing pools of jade. She starts with the shirt, more tugging at the buttons rather than precisely undoing them, before pushing it completely off his shoulders, and finally letting it fall to the floor. He's glorious with just his trousers on and that scrutinizing, almost cold gaze. She opens the fly enough to take his hardness out, and her stomach tightens instinctively.

She wets her lips and parts them, taking in the head of his cock, letting it rest on her tongue. Even when her world narrows down to the hot pulsing flesh in her mouth, she catches herself dividing her focus between pleasuring her lover and.. the position she's doing this in. There's a little bit of getting used to it being required, and it makes her realize how unfamiliar that is - her being on her knees, on the hardwood floor, and Napoleon standing upright. When was the last time they've found themselves in that exact arrangement? It could've happened once or twice before, in the heat of the moment, or when the space had limited them. But never intentionally. Not because MC has anything against it - rather, it would be Napoleon who changes the position whether he's about to receive oral. He makes sure he's at least sitting down at the edge of the bed, where MC can rest her hands on his hips, or on the bed. Where he can see her better, to check up on her. Now she has to look up to see him, and he seems so far away, or maybe her eyes are doing tricks on her, or maybe her vision is blurring because she accidentally took his cock too deep down her throat and now tears are gathering in the corners of her eyes.

Napoleon brings his hand over her head and collects a fistful of her hair, one unfamiliar thing after another - but before intimidation can mix into her blood, she breathes in deeply, because it's not him forcing her down his cock, it's him forcing her off it.

He holds his cock firmly by the base as he directs it at her parted lips again, but doesn't breach the gap between them. He simply rubs his cockhead on the soft cushion of them, gathering the saliva that starts to droll down and smearing it back on her lips.

"A pretty mouth indeed."

MC can only look at him. She looks at him like she's looking straight at an open flame.

"Next," Napoleon begins, cupping her chin and caressing with his thumb where his cock used to be just a second ago. "I want you to go on the bed and show me the position you want to be taken in. Can you do that for your King?"

MC finally averts her gaze; it happens involuntarily, purely as a reaction to another surge of surprise and embarrassment.

"I— Yes, my King."

Napoleon angles her chin up, a signal for her to rise to her feet. Yes, that would be a good start.

The bed is just two steps away from where she is but MC feels like she can trip thrice on the way there with how much her legs have turned to jelly. Still, she makes it. There's not much room for thinking this through, for deciding on what would work out best for both of them - normally it's him who takes these decisions, anyway - so once she leans forward on the bed, she gives way to impulsivity and the way it saves her from having to give it any more thought. If she has to name the reason, it would be that it aligns with everything that Napoleon is tonight. Of course it would be fitting if he were to take her on her hands and knees.

"Does this… please you?"

She hears the rustling of clothes behind her back, probably the sound of Napoleon getting rid of his trousers, before he approaches her. He doesn't say anything about approving the position or not, and MC can't decide if his silence is worse. He comes to stand right behind her, and she crawls a little closer to the edge of the bed to make sure their skin is touching. Napoleon lets one hand roam from the fold of her knee up to the curve of her butt, and MC jumps lightly at the touch. Needless to say, she's sensitive and oh-so neglected. Her insides throb at the mere proximity of Napoleon's slender fingers close to her sex - it's a miracle she doesn't come undone on the spot as he actually directs his touch to the apex of her thighs. Wetness catches on his fingertips and he wastes little time caressing her folds before plunging two fingers inside.

"Nnghhh…" MC tosses her head, trying her best to enjoy the feeling of finally, finally claiming some pleasure but without losing herself completely in it. Napoleon twists his fingers until his open palm is facing upwards, thrusts in and out a few times in a way that doesn't intend to bring pleasure but rather to prepare - and then his fingers audibly and briskly exit her wetness.

MC whines at the loss of his fingers but finds a new fire sparkled to life inside her, and she's more than happy she wouldn't have to wait any longer for the next dose of intoxicating pleasure.

"Good girl. Do you want my cock?" Napoleon asks, openly and greedy. He's not risking having her beat around the bush by posing a more generic question like what she wants next. They both know the answer to that already.

Not that he spares her the torturous reminder of what she'll get by saying the right thing. He rubs his flushed tip on her glistening folds, pressing it in enough to just barely catch on her entrance; to make her bite her tongue and assume he just might show mercy and put it in without her pleading for it.

"I- Yes, please, Napoleon— take me, fuck me! Please…"

She only realizes once it slips out that she used his name and not the object of their little game of pretend that is his title, but there's no going back.

Napoleon doesn't punish her for it. Instead, he rewards her, giving her what she wants most. The groan he lets out as the familiar warmth and tightness enfolds his aching cock is telling of his own desperation.

MC cries out at the intrusion, only now understanding the difference of not having him finger her for longer prior to this. It doesn't hurt - she just feels a little fuller somehow. A little on edge. He gives her time to adjust, however, and she just basks into this dangerous feeling for as long as it's there until he carefully withdraws only to give it another thrust.

"Ahh!" Her insides squeeze around Napoleon again, as he goes in deeper this time. She blames the position, trying to reason out why she feels him in her guts. Napoleon withdraws again, and then pushes in, trying to fit even more of himself inside.

"You're taking me so well. I'm so deep inside you, I bet you can feel me in your deepest parts."

She groans at his words and their truthfulness as his thrusts grow rhythmic, the place where they're connected burning with the delightful friction, and her arms soon give out. She buries her head between her hands, enduring the change of angle as her rear sticks out, and Napoleon keeps pounding at her. His own sounds of pleasure are barely masked by the sounds of skin on skin, but he's not hiding them either. He lets her know how good she's making him feel, telling her something dirty in a low voice that she can barely register over the drumming in her ears.

"You feel so good- merde- Ngh. I want to stay inside you forever."

He's always holding her tightly when he fucks her, his grip being strong enough to leave marks the following day, but there's something about the way he takes hold of her hips now. At first, MC thinks nothing of it, lost in euphoric pleasure. It's only when she feels her knees being lifted off the bed that she understands what's happening.

Napoleon rises up her bottom to meet his hips, in his standing upright position, taking full control of her body in that moment. He's so strong, making it all seem effortless; and it's not a matter of matching his thrusts anymore - she can't do anything. She's facing away, with one pair of limbs immobilized and the other grasping uselessly for purchase at the covers. Her whole body rocks back and forth, feeling like a ragdoll in Napoleon's arms. There's something primal and simultaneously embarrassing about how good it feels to give herself over to him like that; about the trust she puts in him to have her completely at his mercy.

And then Napoleon stills inside her. And he groans. And before she knows it, a warm spray of come hits her walls. Her eyes widen, only now realizing they've already been going at it for a while, for a while enough that he seemingly couldn't hold back and—

And maybe he just didn't feel like waiting for her to come before he does.

The realization makes her dizzy in an unexplainable way, and she moans so loudly she feels herself pathetically falling into that bottomless fit, just like that, just as Napoleon takes his cock out of her. It's petrifying, coming without him inside her, but strangely the pleasure never ceases. His hand finds his way between her quivering thighs and shoves them apart in a quick manner, beginning to rub at her clit; whispering praises against the skin of her nape, enveloping her smaller body with his own from behind as she presses into the bed so violently, chasing after her peak.

"Come for me. Come for me and scream my name."

And that's enough to tip her over the edge. Coming with Napoleon's load inside her intensifies the feeling; the way her insides are still remembering his shape, the way she's so full yet so empty. It makes her see stars.

"Napoleon— Ahhhhh!!"

"I'm here. I'm here, mon amour."

Napoleon holds her trembling form as he draws out the last of her high, gently moving her into a spooning position. He keeps touching her everywhere, her belly, her breasts, the curve of her shoulder, caressing all the spots that went unloved in their game.

"I felt— so good I thought I might die—"

Napoleon huffs out a breathy chuckle, and it tickles the babyhairs at the base of her neck.

"I'd be lying if I said this doesn't stroke my ego, Nunuche.", he whispers, and it's somehow more shiver-inducing than anything he's said that night. "I think you might be right. I might be enjoying myself a bit too much when I'm calling the shots."

MC turns her neck just enough to look at him from the corner of her eye. She studies him again, with his disheveled hair and boyish smile and his low tolerance of putting up a front now that he gave voice to his most basic instinct and let it rob him of the ability to give anything more thought than he needs to. She leans in for a kiss and he takes the initiative enthusiastically but ends up drawing it out to make the remaining endorphins dance slowly between their bodies.

Letting the tiredness in her limbs settle in just like the fact that the room is several shades a brighter blue than how they entered it, MC only nuzzles back onto Napoleon's chest, trying not to give voice to the heat between her legs beginning to awake again without a sense of the time.

"And I might just love to see you like that. Mon empereur."

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[shrimpy-kitsune]

Happy Kiss Day 😘😘😘

Just me drawing some of my fav suitors 😆

[shrimpy-kitsune]

ೃ࿔ PRIVACY ISSUE ☾

mma!toji getting c*ckblocked by his own son

tags — nsfw, dad toji, unprotected, spit kink, creampie, size kink, dumbification, blowjob, breeding, cum dump, protective toji, pet names, spanking, toji cums a lot :p, needy toji, toji misses his wife, unexpected edging, daddy/mommy kink

notes — links are informational NOT nsfw links! OPEN THEM!!

the kid definitely hates him. he didn’t even have to say anything, toji knew. and don’t worry, it was reciprocated. toji would be deep inside you, kissing your lips, driving himself even further into your squelching pussy…

“feels so good ngh, good fhuck,” his grunts against your lips only spurring your whines.

“more, ah ah, t-uh-ji!” his dick was practically melting at your cries. he couldn’t stop, you felt so fucking good. especially with your tits bouncing with each thrust as you desperately whined trying to hold them still, they were still so sensitive.

“keep y’r eyes on me,” toji bites your lip, watching your lashes flutter open, coated in wet tears. fuck.

you were so beautiful. your nails racking down his back, shamelessly digging into his skin as you felt yourself getting closer and closer.

beep! beep!

the baby monitor going off had your breath hitching as toji grunts. he buries his face close to your ear. he doesn’t stop rocking his hips into your warm tight hole.

“let him cry it out…” his jaw clenches as your pussy squeezes him. your neck craning to look at the monitor on the nightstand.

“I think he’s hungry.” fuck, you were so beautiful, he was practically trembling as you gave him a very sympathetic smile. “I didn’t pump, so it hurts…”

his stomach tightens, he never wants to hurt you so of course, he slowly pulls out, dropping his head to your shoulder, as you apologize. your thighs tremble from being edged so close, same for him. hand falling down to his base to calm himself. your lips part—

“don’t say sorry,” he kisses your neck, rolling off you. “go take care of the brat.” you hit his shoulder as he watches you throw on a robe and clean yourself with a towel. his eyes gaze up to the ceiling, dick hard as rock and still covered in your essence. the froth at his base making him ooze more from his tip.

with a sigh he pushes up, and annoyingly finishes himself in the bathroom. washing off, he grabs a pair of sweats and heads over to megumi’s room.

yes it was frustrating, but he still could never be mad at you. watching you feed your baby, your pretty hands stroking the messy spikes of his son’s hair. lucky bastard.

however, toji wished he can go back to those days. the days were at least he could fuck his wife where ever, whenever, since his kid still couldn’t walk and slept for most of the day. it was easy. he could come up behind you in the kitchen and rub himself shamelessly, because megumi is sleeping in the crib in the living room.

at least he could get some very needed relief after training. getting the most of your bigger than usual tits which he loved to handle making you flush with embarrassment because you were insecure about how big and sensitive they got.

bending you over as he pushed his pants down and tugged your own so he could fit his dick deep into your hole. your eyes rolling back as you grabbed the counter, a hand on your mouth to hold back the drawn out moan from the big stretch you’ll never get used too.

“what’s a pretty little slut doing in my kitchen?” he coos in your ear, making you glare at his stupid joke, just for him to give a sharp thrust up, sending a cry into your muffled hand which he easily secured around your mouth.

he didn’t stop until you were trembling and creaming around him and the little baby was still fast asleep.

in other words, it’s been perfectly fine, until you both hit a stump. and that specific stump was megumi’s very needy phase. the kid just turned five when he suddenly caught the biggest attitude known to man, and for some reason he could not leave you alone.

“what happened?” toji was on the phone, drying himself off with a towel.

he could already hear the concern in your voice. “the teacher called and said he’s in the nurses office’.”

“he alright? his cold passed already.” toji shifts the phone from his shoulder to his hand, now more attentive.

“they said he’s okay, but I’m gonna pick him up—“

“I’ll pick him up, it’s okay,” he knew today was an important day at work. it was difficult for you just to leave like that when you were going to pitch a new script in an hour.

“you have a match this weekend, you should finish your train—“

“I’m already in the car,” he lies, but still he’s grabbing his bag. you bite your lip, humming on the line, relieved toji can handle it.

of course, toji has been around megumi’s little school. he usually did drop off in the mornings, since it was on his way to the gym while you were in the other direction. but in other words, toji realized he’d never really been inside the school. he’d only done a tour with you early on, but drop off was just stopping outside the school with his car and megumi hopping out. the teachers already waiting outside to bring the students in since they were so young—

“where’s the nurses?”

the front desk lady almost had a heart attack. the sight of the big dark haired sweaty man, completely had her shaking. the hoodie tossed over his head and his wide shoulders was more than intimidating to anyone. the aura that surrounded him was unlike any other kindergarten parent.

“w-who exactly are you here for?” her voice was very meek and shaky. desperately trying to avoid eye contact.

“megumi.” he noted in his head the reason why you both chose this elementary school. it definitely was better secured than others. after checking his id, she immediately apologized for not recognizing him. everyone in the office spoke about the mma fighter. she just wasn’t expecting him to look like that.

“he has a cold or something?” toji asked the nurse.

“he came in saying his stomach was hurting, wouldn’t go back to class without groaning from the pain.”

….odd.

he took the two steps until he reached the curtain and pulled them back. a yelp escaped the little boy, dropping his Nintendo on his lap.

“where’s mommy?” the distaste was itched in his voice.

toji picked up megumi’s bag. “stomach hurts?”

“ya…” megumi sat up. looking around the room. “mommy picks me up…” he mutters.

“she’s still at work, caught her at a bad time kid, let’s go,” toji grabs megumi, lifting him easily with one arm. the boy pushes his father’s face back.

“I can walk!”

“thought your stomach hurt?” megumi falls silent, still holding toji’s face away until the man plops the kids back beside him and allows him to follow him out the nurse’s office. he stays a couple steps behind his father, a small pout dusting his lips.

“woah is that megumi’s dad!?”

“he’s so big!”

“his muscles are bigger than my head!”

megumi’s brows pinch as he hears the kids in the hall whisper and gush around him. he never understood what it all meant. all his dad does is stay in a gym all day then come back all bruised up, and you would have to get up and clean his bandages every day. he also latched onto you most of the time he comes back home. he felt like a parasite, megumi could never snuggle with you because his dad was always plopping himself beside you and pull you in.

but unlike his father, you actually work all night. typing and typing, megumi loved listening to the stories you’d make. your food was always the best. you picked out new clothes for him. bought him books you knew he’d like. but his dad….megumi has never seen him work a day in his life, and all he can cook is mac n’ cheese and other frozen stuff—

“you listening kid?” toji’s voice snapped him back to the present.

“huh?”

“you get into a fight or something?” toji looks at megumi through the front mirror. the kid looking out the window, arms crossed.

“no.”

“your stomach doesn’t hurt?”

“yes.” megumi snaps his head forward. “no it does hurt.”

“yes it doesn’t hurt?” toji raises a brow.

“no! it does!—“

“because you miss mommy?” megumi’s face goes pale. jackpot. “I won’t tell her.”

megumi does not find this funny. even as toji’s laugh rattles the car. instead he stays quiet as his father unbuckles his seatbelt and helps him out of the car seat. the two entering the large house as toji drops his bags at the side watching megumi wander off.

only an hour or so passes, when you finally arrive. bending down to kick your shoes off. the pattered sounds of running footsteps alarms you as you look up to see megumi already jumping on you.

“missed you,” he mumbles into your neck as he squeezes you close, standing up with him in your arms.

“I heard your tummy hurt?” you coo, brushing his unruly hair. megumi hums, holding you closer, only to spot his father leaning against the counter with a shit-eating smirk.

“how bad did it hurt?” toji taunts, catching your attention. instinctively heading to him, as you lean up, smiling once his lips connect with yours. eyeing megumi who has a deep death stare.

“it hurt a lot,” megumi glares. you round the counter to sit megumi on the chair.

“how’re you feeling now? did daddy give you medicine already?” you look over your shoulder to see toji biting his cheek to contain his smile. “what?-“

“yes I took medicine!” megumi snaps your attention back to him. “I’m hungry.”

“when you had a stomach ache last time, you couldn’t eat a thing?” toji questions. megumi feels like screaming, his cheeks steaming with embarrassment.

“this means you’re feeling better! I’ll get something started,” you kiss the little boys cheek, turning around to make eyes with your husband, a look that gave, what’s going on? he only gave you a wink in response.

“ahh, fuck toji,” you’ve gotten better at controlling your moans. but toji only found your breathy gasps and mewls against his ear even more attractive.

“deserve a reward for—shit—“ you’d spent hours up, writing your script and when it came time to pitch it to producers; you had to practice it over and over in front of toji and megumi. so when producers actually loved it and signed you on, you were beyond ecstatic. you were worried about megumi all day though which made you feel anxious.

“what’s with gumi today?” you remember, wondering what toji’s teasing was all about.

toji grunts, almost laughing. “he didn’t have a stomach ache. he just ungh missed you,” his lips press to yours. “I missed you too.” he bites your lip, your eyes fluttering. your heart warms at your son’s embarrassment.

“don’t tease him,” you pant, making toji chuckle.

“yes, mommy.” toji knew every single thing about your body, and he loved playing with you.

“wanna c-cum—fuck me…harder t…wan’ it!” you cry out, begging toji to get rougher. he bites your neck, pulling out with a small cry from you, you reach out to slip it back in, but his grip tightens around your waist, flipping you on your stomach.

“greedy today,” toji slaps your ass, watching it ripple against his big palm as he kneads the flesh, pulling your hips back as he grabs his cock. “tight fucking cunt—“ his grip tightens as he pulls your hips back to meet his. you bury your mouth into the pillow to conceal the scream-like moan. “fuck, ungh, dirty fucking girl, beggin’ f’r me,” his lips curl as you reach behind you. immediately understanding his pretty wife as he drops his hand over yours. you squeeze his fingers as he leans his face.

“kiss me,” you’re looking back with tears in your eyes, and he almost busts a bit too soon. he’ll never understand people who fall out of love, because he could never imagine not wanting you. touching you. kissing you—

“my pretty puppy,” he lifts your body up, arm wrapping around your torso as your head falls back to meet his wet lips. his abs clench as he feels your pussy squeeze him. your tongue hanging out, a tell tale sign of how close you’re getting.

“ah, t-ji…ah ha…cumin’” fuck, you still get so dumb on his dick. your stutters and empty head driving him to his peak. his hand slides down your torso to rub your puffy clit, so close to—

KNOCK knock KNOCK knock—

you gasp startled as you and toji fall forward, he holds a hand to your mouth as you unconsciously let out a whine. “fucking brat,” toji grunts as he pulls out.

“mommy?” megumi jiggles the door handle. “mommy—“

“yes baby?” you call out, voice hoarse and head foggy as toji kisses your cheeks, gently rubbing across your torso getting you back to your senses. you push forward, only for toji to grab you pulling you back to his chest.

“tell him to go back to sleep,” his hand falls between your legs, making your hips buck— you to pull away.

“he gets nightmares,” you grab a towel, cleaning yourself quickly before slipping on shorts and one of your husband’s shirts.

“he’s doing this on purpose,” toji aggressively grabs the sheets covering the not so PG rated scene. his dick was throbbing painfully. he’s never been fond of edging.

“he doesn’t know anything,” you scold him, not before rushing over to him, kissing his lips. his hum makes you smile as he rubs the back of your neck, his grip tightening only for you to pull away with a guilty smile. he sighs dropping his head back watching you open the door to find megumi with a hand over his eye, yawning.

“why aren’t you sleeping?” toji leans on his arm, watching you coddle the boy.

megumi pouts at his fathers comment. “b-because….”

you stand up with megumi in your arms as you walk back to his room. your hand brushing his hair.

toji falls back on the bed. eyes piercing the ceiling.

“he’s in one of his moods again…” gojo, toji’s sparring partner, mumbles to shiu.

“what happened?” shiu looks at gojo icing a cut on his lip while toji tightens his gloves with his teeth, pounding them together.

“let’s go!” his roar startled the other trainers on his team.

it wasn’t uncommon for toji to be in his “moods”. I mean it used to be a very common thing a couple years ago. however, no one will say it to his face, but he’s definitely gotten much softer and calmer after marrying you. he’s thrown some fits when megumi was a couple months old, but he’s been calm since then.

“toji!”

your voice suddenly had the fighters eyes brightening. holding your hand tight was megumi. his eyes wandering around the punching bags. he’s been to the gym before, but only with you.

toji used to bring megumi frequently when he was a baby, but after he started registering things, you didn’t want him around all that fighting, afraid it’ll rub off on him—

“megumi!” gojo rushes over, the entire gym flipping over at your son’s appearance. the spitting image of their grumpy idol, but a cuter more innocent version. gojo having a very annoying way of pampering the boy.

“how’s it going?” you ask toji, climbing into the ring as gojo watches (bothers) megumi, along with shiu.

toji meets your lips. “good.”

you lean back, fingers brushing the scar on his lip, noticing the distance in eyes. that’s when you notice he’s looking at a certain little boy. “toji?”

“he’s got it out for me,” he whispers to you, megumi was looking at toji curiously. you hit the man’s shoulder with the back of your hand.

“he’s a kid, he doesn’t know anything. and about last night—“

“don’t bring it up,” he drops his head on your shoulder, sighing as your fingers brush his nape, gently scratching it just the way he likes. “fuck, you felt so good.” he groans, “definitely would’ve knocked you up with the load i was gunna give ya.” your ears sting at his vulgar confession. “left me in the dust.”

“not my fault,” you murmur, surprised your voice was leveled.

“i know,” his big arms, are wrapped around your waist and shoulders completely. hugging you close as his glare settles on the urchin haired kid.

meanwhile, shiu, gojo, and the others are huddled around megumi talking about none other than.

“my dad is not cool,” megumi rolls his eyes, arms crossed as gojo is kneeling in front of him, ice pack on his lip.

“he most definitely is, the guy is superhuman! he moves so quick!” one of the other fighters gush, other agreeing. they all talk about toji as if he’s some super celebrity, like the way his friends also talk about him. megumi isn’t an idiot, he knows toji is a famous fighter, but that doesn’t mean he knows how good.

the more his father’s team praises his dad, the more megumi’s curiosity peaks.

you look over to smile at megumi, who obviously is growing very annoyed at gojo, shiu and the other team who are now coddling him. after wiggling his way out, he makes his way over to you, only for toji to be the one to left him up. megumi frowns, leaning his arm on his father’s shoulder propping his big cheek on his hand with a pout.

“you hungry?” you joke at his expression.

megumi looks away from you, odd, over to toji, who’s laughing at the boys reaction. “can I go to your match tomorrow?”

huh?

you and toji immediately exchange looks.

“you wanna see your old man fight?” toji’s lips curl up into a teasing smile.

megumi nods, “ya.”

you bite your cheek, contemplating. he was older now, albeit still a kid. your eyes shift to toji unsure.

“if the kids wants to go, then…” toji definitely was not the man he used to be. you could read him like a fucking book. as much as he was complaining, and mumbling how pent up he’s been these past weeks because of “the brat”, he most certainly cannot hide the simple truth that he wants megumi to see his match.

“then i guess we’ll have to go to sleep early tonight,” you smile, noticing megumi’s small smile, not too obvious.

megumi stayed close beside you. shifting from holding him in your arms, to letting him walk beside you. his cute ears were covered with headphones because of how loud the stadium is. along with some guards to watch over you both.

toji was warming up when you both walked into the lockerroom. your hand stayed in megumi, not letting him go over to his dad, knowing not to disturb his mindset right now.

megumi tugged on your hand, ushering you to his level so he can whisper in your ear. “why is daddy angry?” however, because of the headphones, his whisper, was more of a shout.

you stifled a laugh, especially when everyone in the room, including toji, heard.

“gumi!”

the boy jumped at the booming voice. looking over at his father waving a hand to come over. megumi cocked his head up at you, but ultimately let go and made his way over. toji grunts as he lifts him up, sitting him on his lap.

“getting heavier kid,” he smiles when megumi looks away trying to hide his own smile. “don’t cry when i prove to ya how strong i am.”

you roll your eyes at toji, as does megumi who crosses his arms as well. either way toji ruffles the kid’s unkept hair before standing up. megumi’s eyes gaze up, noting how tall and big his father is. and he remembers what his friend yuuji said to him in class today.

your dad looks like he’s the strongest person ever! my dad always watches his fights and he also says your dad is crazzzy strong! I’m training to be super strong too! I’ll be the next best fighter ever!! megumi also recalls the way yuuji was flexing his nonexistent bicep muscles, slapping them with the other hand as if their huge.

you come up, holding megumi’s shoulders as your eyes meet toji’s dark ones. his fingers tilt your chin up, megumi staring up from the middle as his father leans closer, lips brushing your ear.

“I’ll earn my reward tonight.”

your cheeks sting as he comes back, pecking your lips, before his hand falls over megumi’s head, ruffling his hair even more, distracting the kid from toji deepening the kiss for a moment, satisfied enough to pull away , teeth pulling at your bottom lip. he tilts your chin up again, lips curled up at the lustful eyes you give him. thumb tapping your bottom lip.

toji averts his attention back to his son. “wish me luck.”

megumi is silent as he watches toji’s teams crowd him as they lead him out to the stadium. shiu stays back with you and megumi and has you both escorted to your seats. gumi’s small hand grips yours tightly as you watch the stadium cheering and clapping.

you like taking pride in being megumi’s favorite, especially when toji’s trying to win an argument and you ask megumi who’s right and he’ll always point to you, not even bothering to look up from the tv screen.

nonetheless, you can’t help but smile when you notice megumi’s eyes light up when the stadium lights start to dim and dark blue flashes start to flicker. your heart is definitely very warm because you know how toji’s entrance usually is accompanied by red lights, but i guess when he asked you this morning if megumi’s favorite color was still blue, this is what he meant.

megumi was standing on his seat, next to you, arm around your shoulders as you kept and arm around him for stability, letting him get a better view as his father stepped into the stadium. loud music ensuing as the crowd got riled up.

your heart was beating fast, cheeks slowly crawling with heat as you watched your husband. he always looked like someone straight out of a movie. but then he’d casually glance over. his deep green eyes meeting yours and looking at megumi. the little boy felt chills at his father’s gaze. he’s never understood what people meant when they called his dad cool, but maybe that’s what it’s like. seeing the entire stadium cheering for him even before the match has started. how the crowd is split between his fans and his opponents fans.

“how good is daddy?” megumi leaned down to you. your hand holding his tummy, so he doesn’t fall forward.

“he’s very good!” you could tell megumi was scared, especially when his opponent was some guy with crazy pink hair and vicious tattoos that littered his entire body. even his dad didn’t have face tattoos!

was he scared that maybe his dad wasn’t that cool? maybe he really was just the dad that drops him off at school, and teases him all day….megumi felt his heart beating faster when his opponent threw a vicious first punch, immediately putting distance so he can throw a powerful kick straight into toji’s ribs.

you could feel megumi’s hand tighten around your shirt, his other hand balled into a fist as he watched toji take a direct punch to the face.

toji had been preparing for this fight for weeks. someone challenging his title always had a big publicity boost. and sukuna was not just any old player.

so when toji was placed into a headlock, you almost felt your stomach coil, and megumi bit his lip. his eyes welling up as he inhaled sharply….

“DAD! i said good luck!” megumi’s loud scream only seemed to echo even louder since your seats were near the cage.

toji couldn’t help his shit-eating grin, blood coating his chin. first time he’s heard the kid that loudly, he shouldn’t disappoint.

megumi felt his hair fly up when his dad gave him a wink, and like a switch happened, he immediately turned the tables on his opponent. you hadn’t seen megumi so worked up…ever. he was jumping on his seat cheering, as you stood up. toji held his opponent to the mat, after a couple seconds sukuna finally submitted.

the crowd was on it’s feet, creating echos of noise as they cheered for their victor! megumi was clapping as he looked at you.

“dad was so cool!!! he was moving so fast!” he was definitely worked up, his little cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

“well I’m not someone that likes to brag,” toji appeared before you as megumi immediately jumped up. catching the both of you so off-guard. he only did that to you, but toji took it. lifting the kid in his arms as megumi gushed to him. i guess he did have some of your traits, the way he babbled on and on, and made crazy gestures with his hands.

the cameras had a field day as megumi sat on toji’s shoulders as he answered a couple questions.

by the time you arrived home, megumi was completely knocked out.

toji carries him to his room. you’re in the kitchen when he comes back, you made a protein shake for him, after exerting so much energy.

“he was screaming the entire time,” you hand him the cup, watching as he chugs it. “never thought I’d see him so loud.”

“had to make him like me somehow. he never leaves you alone,” toji saunters over to you, his hands trapping you against the counter, leaning down. “needed mommy to give me a reward, didn’t i?”

you scoff, “don’t act like you didn’t want his approval.” toji doesn’t respond. “the blue lights?”

“sukuna’s entrance also had red, so i needed to stand out,” he gaslights, making you laugh.

“you’re such a softie you know that?” the little jabs you give him never gets old, especially when it’s about your kid.

“if i say yes, can i finally cum in ya?” he licks your lips, smiling at the flustered daze in your eyes. “had to cum on myself for weeks,” he groans, remembering how he’d finish himself off every single time.

“ ‘s not my fault,” you sigh as he kisses down your neck, his own hand falling between your bodies.

his voice vibrates against your skin, as he picks you up, placing you on the counter. “you baby him.”

“I do not!” you do.

he pulls away, a deadpan expression so clear he doesn’t even have to say it. you bite your cheek, looking at the kitchen wall. but toji returns to your lips nibbling at the skin as his hand pushed up the pretty top you wore for his match.

“mmm, toji?” your lips pull away, he hums tongue licking at the cut on his lip. he’s definitely gotten used to kissing you after matches, the stinging now adding to his own pleasure. he waits patiently for you to keep going. your hands gently holding his face as you look over the deep bruise on his cheekbone. “I’m sorry about last night, and the nights before.”

his green eyes settle, gently. hands coming up to pull your shirt over, arm snaking back to unclasp your pretty bra, his hand situated under your jaw as he tilts your head up. “now why’re you apologizing?”

“well because……i feel bad,” you murmur, embarrassed that this man can still make you blush like an idiot. exposing you so openly to his eyes. your nipples perking up from the cool breeze.

“don’t,” his thumb slides up to your bottom lip, massaging your adorable pout away.

“you were literally complaining about it,” you roll your eyes, unconsciously arching up when he lifts your chin higher.

“when did you start taking my jokes so seriously? is my princess forgetting who I am?”

“yes she is,” you cock your head. “I think she needs a reminder.”

his lips curl up along with a brow. “fucking tease.” he captures your lips, tongue wet as he licks your lips, smiling once you part them to allow the kiss to go deeper. his grip behind your neck warming your skin. “missed you so much,” he groans, feeling your hand rub over his sweats.

“I know,” you bite his lip, making him wince at the pain, the stinging of the cut sending blood rushing south. you knew him too well. “I’m all yours,” your palm rubs a little harder around his tip, making his hips jolt. “daddy deserves attention.”

the stupid nickname was something you only used to address him around megumi, but hearing the name right now, suddenly sent a different feeling coursing through his head. “fuck.” he grabs your hand, rocking his hips against your palm as he leans down, kissing and biting at your tits.

“you like that?” you taunt, “daddy wants his reward,” you coo, petting his hair as he kisses your nipples, sucking one into his mouth, he’s so rough. his bite making you yelp. “want something for being such a good boy—wha!—“

you were suddenly on the ground, heart beating fast because toji had moved in the blink of an eye. you hate how fast he is sometimes, especially when he scares you like that.

“getting all cocky after edging me for weeks?” his pants were pushed down, along with his shorts and boxers. allowing you to be face to face with the familiar length. a blush immediately spreading across your cheeks at how worked up he is.

“barely touched you,” you kiss his tip, not without your shit-eating grin making his abs clench. why are you so fucking hot?

“open up,” he grabs his base, slapping his heavy dick on your cheeks, something he only did when you were…well acting like this. you can’t stop now, your smile spreading even more when you give him a look.

“you haveta say please.”

“what happened to reward?” his jaw clenched, tip oozing only for you to press a thumb across his slit licking the bitter taste. “fuckkk, please—now open up-ah fuck!” toji grabs your head as you lather his cock with your spit. “fuck.” kissing his base, just to get him even more worked up, knowing how much he loves seeing how big his dick is laying across your face.

“my wife’s so slutty,” he sighs, brushing your forehead where his tip oozes a little on your face. you come back to his tip, grabbing his base as you take him into your mouth. “good girl.”

your stomach is full of butterflies. you love giving toji head, he always looked so hot from this position, especially post-match, his bruises still prominent and he was more needy. letting you baby him and give him head first.

a few tears slipped down your cheeks as toji held your head, cooing everytime you hum around him. “look at me, mommy,” he grunts, balls swinging as you curl your hands around them, playing with his sack making his hips jerk. “shit,” you edge him closer, his heart beating quicker as you gaze up with your big tear filled eyes. the love of his life, the mother of his child, the most beautiful girl in the world—

“fhuckk,” his grip his tight on your head as the knot in his stomach snaps, blowing his load into your mouth. you pull away to breathe to catch your breath for a second, but he’s still cumming, ruining your face. you open your mouth again and milk his cock for more. “atta girl, fuck just like that….swallow all of it,” he sighs, brushing your hair as you swallow so much of him. unbothered as it falls on your tits, your free hand collecting the mess and spreading it on his happy trail making him shudder. dirty girl.

your breathing heavily as he bends down, capturing your lips, smiling even bigger because your mouth is empty, having swallowed every single drop.

“miss my cum?” he pulls away.

you nod, throwing your arms around his neck, hugging him close so he was just inches from your face. “that’s not all, right? baby boy wants to cum inside me?”

“fuck,” he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. “you like talking being a dirty fucking slut?“

“i know you like it,” you make the man laugh, because there was a blush coating his cheeks. you always surprise him. “wait the clothes,” you shuffle away, trying to grab the clothes before you head upstairs, but toji keeps a tight grip. slapping your ass.

“i got it, stay still,” he bends down to grab his pants and your things. he starts making his way upstairs, your tongue kissing and licking his face. the door quietly closing behind him, as you continue falling deeper and deeper into your head.

“mommy all horny now?” he coos, laying you on the bed as you buck your hips up.

“take care of me,” you whine. there’s his wife, so whiney and bratty. his lips meet yours, teasing you with his knee, watching you buck your hips against it.

“thought this was daddy’s reward, not mommy’s?” he pulls away, making your lip open, they were all wet and puffy from how much you’ve been kissing.

“you like it when i cum,” you hold his face, using the biggest doe eyes that always have him twitching, your pretty tits squeezed together as you brush his raven hair back. “wanna cum for daddy….uh I’m so wet.” fuck, since when does role-play work so well on him?!

“fer daddy, aye?” he pulls your pants down, easily maneuvering your legs up so he can pull them off, your little thong soaked completely through. “you came already?”

your finger plays with your bottom lip, a tell-tale sign of your guilt.

“missed tasting you,” you lean up, wrapping your arms around the man, arching into him as you kiss his cheek. “you came so much….want you to cum inside me now,” your hand held his, pressing it between your legs making him groan at the slick that slips down his fingers easily. “want you inside me, daddy.”

his cheeks were stinging so unbelievably turned on by you. “ y’r fuckin’ killing’ me,” he groans as you slide your adorable panties to the side, head dropping against his as you watch his fingers sink inside you, more slick oozing down as you rub your hands up his neck. his deep green eyes half-lidded as he watches your face twist in pleasure. “look at me.”

his heart skipped a beat at your pretty lashes fluttering up to meet his. “gun….cum,” you pant, jaw dropping as toji holds your waist up, already feeling your body shake as he quickens his fingers inside you, feeling you squeeze around him.

“there ya go,” he praises, rubbing your clit in vicious circles, until you’re falling over. “shh baby, inside voices,” he coos, grunting once he feels your face press into his shoulder, cumming around him with a muffled cry. soaking his hand.

you barely have time to catch your breath, as he lays you down across the bed, tossing the drenched panties aside. his face between your legs making you cry out.

“what’d i say?” toji snaps, pulling away.

“I’m sorry,” you hold a hand to your mouth, put toji notices the way you clench around nothing. so he rubs his fingers through your sticky folds, and decides to do something he hasn’t done in awhile. pinch your clit.

you couldn’t stop the cry for escaping this time. tears filling your eyes as the man’s face sinks.

“not gun’a listen now?” his body flips you over. “show ‘me y’r pussy,” he demands. tongue peaking out to touch his scar.

“it’s embarrassing, toji,” you blush, breaking the little roleplay, because you really didn’t mean to moan that loudly. it’s been a few years now of toji training you to only get loud when he’s got his lips around yours. but you were acting like his little slut again—

slap!

your body jolts, pussy stinging at the slap he just gave you.

“embarrassed to show daddy your hole?” he rubs your pussy, his mannerisms so clearly inviting that you can’t help but sink your body lower, arching your back further and spreading your legs even more. “there we go, mommy’s so good,” he praises, making you whine.

“fuck me now,” you wiggle your hips, smiling when you feel his bruised knuckles brush your sopping pussy, playing with your clit.

“ya gonna stay quiet?” he leans over, kissing your lower back, his face lowering to lap at your pussy. you whine, rolling your hips as toji sucks your slick into his mouth. “ah fuck, need ya,” he suddenly looms behind you, pumping his dick aggressively.

you’re eyes are looking back, complete drool escaping your lips once his big hands splay over your back, lining his tip to your pulsing hole.

his tip pushes past your slick, you were so ready for him to thrust his full length into you, but this slow sinking in was much more mind numbing. your eyes slowly roll back as he fully bottoms out.

“take me so well,” he groans, leaning over to kiss your shoulder over and over, fingers lacing around yours as he slowly pulls his hips back and going back in.

“toji,” you turn, lips falling open as he groans. his dick was fucking melting at how good you are. the slow pace was tantalizing.

“baby?” his fingers curl around your face, leaning down so his lips are close to your ear. his voice was deep and filled with heavy pants, “gunna fuck you like ya want, so don’t wake up gumi, kay?”

you nod quickly. “kay.”

your eyes completely cross and toji was so unbelievably ready to fuck your brains out. all his pent up sexual frustration and his longing for you was so strong and overwhelming. he was fucking you so roughly, not just piercing your deepest spot, but sliding through your walls as his head went back.

his hand closed over your mouth as you came around him. a babbling mess when he pulled away and turned you over on yer back.

“toji,” your mind was foggy as you reached out for him, legs pressed to your head as he gave you a toothy grin.

“what happened to daddy?” he slipped his tip back in, holding your sweaty thighs down as he pulled back and slammed into you. the position always making him reach the deepest parts of you. he pressed into your tummy as he kissed your cervix too many times.

“da—ddy,” your lips fell open, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he leaned down, lips melting into yours. you sucked on his tongue, as his spit collected in your mouth, always his little puppy. his chest pushed you into a deeper mating press.

“mommy likes daddy’s dick that much?” he grunts feeling you clench around him, it was getting easier to make you cum tonight. he felt a bad for making it seem like he was the only one that missed you, when it was so obvious tonight how much you also missed him.

he picks up the speed. his heavy balls slapping your ass making the room echo of fwap-fwap and your beautiful cries. “tell daddy how much ya want it, fuck cmon,” your eyes were filled with bubble tears.

“want it so much….want daddy’s cum! want my tummy full— ah ah toji!” your eyes slowly cross as he watches you get closer and closer, nails digging down his biceps.

“gunna fuck make mommy have another b-ungh baby.” the role play was getting into his head, reminding him of how fucking beautiful his wife is, solidifying the image that yes, he’ll fuck her until the day he dies and give her as many fucking babies as she wants.

the moment your eyes crossed, his hand fell over your mouth, completely loosing all sense as you came, crying into his hand pushing toji immediately too. his dick was pulsing, dumping ropes and ropes and ropes of his cum. head falling to your shoulder as he fucked your pussy through his high.

his body was on autopilot, lazy thrusts following his desires. he couldn’t stop cumming, the squelch and oozing that slipped out only had more spurts shooting out of his tip. completely coating your insides in white warmth. “to..ji,” your soft call had him sliding your legs down to his waist, lifting his head so gently, his own head going dizzy just by your expression and the amount he’s spilled inside you. you were the most beautiful, precious soul in the world.

“love ya, baby,” he whispers, kissing you. you sigh, combing his hair as he gives a full body shudder, staying still for longer than usual before pulling out. he takes a moment to peck your lips before huddling over to the bathroom, cleaning himself off and returning to wipe you down.

tossing the towel aside, making you huff, he falls beside you. you roll over brushing his hair, as your eyes grow heavy. his hand coming up to caress your adorable cheeks. he guesses he really did a number on his pretty wife. smiling to himself for the victory.

knock. knock. knock!

your heart jumps into your throat. “why is he awake?” you whisper yell, toji rubs the bridge of his nose, only to wince remembering the bruise there.

“as if you weren’t screaming yer head off,” he deadpans. your cheeks flare, annoyed at yourself, but then again—

“well—“

knock, knock knock!

you wince when you try to sit up. fuck, toji didn’t hold back at all. his brow quirks, only to grin mischievously—

“dick, go answer the door!” you shove him back, still struggling to sit up when toji cackles, grabbing a pair of clean pajama pants and tshirt (to hide the new scratches) heading to the door. you’re able to sit up and toss on a shirt once he opens the door.

“what’s up?” toji looks down at the kid, his little head tilted up as he rubs his eye, stuffed animal in his arm. megumi is silent.

your brows pinch, noticing megumi holding onto toji’s pant leg. the fighter, places a hand on the boy, before kneeling down, his thumb brushing the kid’s bangs from his forehead.

“still having those nightmares?” megumi nods.

“sum monster was screaming,” he explains. you hold your breath, cheek flaring.

“ahh ya those monsters are real loud sometimes,” toji has to do everything in his power not to laugh because he can already feel the embarrassment and anger coming from you. “but they’re not real, so it’s all good.” he pats the kids head. but that doesn’t help.

“can you sleep with me?” megumi is looking at the ground when he asks.

“mommy isn’t feeling—“

“not mommy…you.” the simple, quiet muttered words do a little too much for toji. his eyes so wide and his lips falling open. megumi looks back at his dad after the silence gets too long. “what—“

“nothing!” toji grabs the kid, lifting him up. megumi automatically sinks into his father’s arm resting his head on his shoulder, unconsciously feeling very safe. his dad is a superhuman after all.

toji doesn’t hold back when he looks over his shoulder at you and sticks his tongue out.

once the two disappear down the hall, you’re left alone. stuck to the bed. head hitting the pillow as you gaze up at the ceiling.

so this is what toji felt like.

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