#hybrid gojo

[lilaccmilk]

summary: you rescue a snow leopard! hybrid from an underground fighting rink and he gets attached to you. (this is basically GOJO SATORU X READER but no name mentioned.)

a/n: this was written keeping Gojo Satoru in mind but feel free to imagine whoever you want to.

content warning: hybrids, mention of underground fighting rinks, abuse, mention of Y/N, scenting, and fluff ig?

word count: 1.4 k

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For months you and your team had been tracking an underground hybrid fighting ring. And now you finally had the chance to raid in there and save those hybrids. You worked at a hybrid clinic and dealt with trauma hybrids and their medical health, like a doctor. Your presence was necessary to administer sedatives to aggressive hybrids. You reached the place with hybrid rescue officers, many types of hybrids were caged, surrounding a huge arena for fighting— wolf hybrids, snake hybrids, leopard hybrids, bear hybrids— you name it, they were there. Many of the hybrids just went along with the crew, some had to be lightly sedated. At the most secluded cage, you heard growling, agitated yet worried growling. “We won’t hurt you. We’re from the hybrid protection services, I’m Dr. Y/N.” You signalled the guards to put their guns down, so as to not agitate the hybrid more. “Please step out, i promise we wont’t hurt you yeah?”

Slowly you saw him step out— a beautiful snow leopard hybrid, white hair, pretty blue eyes that held the sky in them. But behind that aggressive demeanour, you could sense he was hiding pain. He had a few untreated bruises and slashes. You backed up a bit to give him space, opening then cage, you spoke in a soft voice, “Come on out now, let’s get you patched up yeah?” His eyes snapped to you, and they softened a bit. But then one of the officers came into view, and he snarled, you quickly got in between them, but too late, your hand had been scratched by him, he quickly stepped back, not looking you in the eyes.

Being deemed as the strongest in the arena had more cons than pros. Sure being respected and feared was nice, but that also meant that he was used as a weapon. Constant fights, back to back bettings, being drugged and then beaten up if he tried to rebel. He had smelled you before he heard your voice, you smelled sweet, like a spring day. And your voice felt like it belonged to one of the angels, he saw you signal the officers to put their guns down. He appreciated it, very deeply. You had beckoned him to come closer, opening the cage, you beckoned him to come closer to you— to freedom.

But then one of the officers moved, and whatever spell you had around him had been broken, he acted before thinking, lurching to eliminate an opponent. When he did see what he had done, he backed away. No no no– it wasn’t supposed to be like this, now you’d hate him and tell them to leave him and— “Hey, it’s ok. Please calm down, they’re all the good guys.” your voice interjected. Huh?

You knew he was scared. He meekly followed you, the other rescued hybrids backing off when he came into view, some out of respect and most out of fear. You made it to the animal clinic, you told him to wait in the shower room, you’d get some towels and clothes. As you were returning with the necessities, a fee officers came upto you, asking if you’d be okay, since the hybrid placed under your care is feral. Feral, that word irked you, but you kept quiet and told them that you’d be fine.

Before abruptly entering the room, you knocked, making it know you were entering.

You went in and saw him standing, in the same spot you left him in, very stiff, as if you’d hurt him if he even breathed the wrong way.

“You could have looked around you know? Will you be able to take a bath on your own, or do you want me to help?” you spoke. He looked blankly at you at first, but then his eyes softened, “I’d like your help please.” You nodded and filled the tub with water, and turned around to allow him to remove his clothes. He got in the tub and you took the shower head, making him comfortable with the water temperature. “I’m gonna wash your hair for you okay?” He nodded at that idea. You took your time with that, mainly because you could hear his purrs of contentment, you were pretty sure he wasn’t aware he was purring.

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A month or so had passed and he was very grateful. You kept him company and showed him patience. Being in the hybrid shelter was weird, but that couldn’t be helped, not until you adopted him. And he knew that he wouldn’t willingly go with someone else. You were pretty, protective, caring and you had a very soothing voice. Especially when you called him ‘snowflake’ or ‘Olaf’ (he loved watching Disney movies after you introduced him to Tangled) those silly nicknames made his heart go into overdrive. One thing that irked him was your scent— don’t get him wrong, he just hated that it contained the scent of many hybrids, he wanted you to smell like him. He wanted others to know you were his. His mate.

You knew he was very attached, and he had developed a sweet tooth. He was slowly turning into one of the most energetic person you had ever met. Always up to silly things and he loved PDA with you. The concept of personal space had now become foreign to him. He always had to have some kind of skinship with you. You wanted to adopt him. But just because of your selfishness, you wouldn’t ruin a chance for him to find a person he liked. But this season was the one where many hybrids got adopted. You didn’t want someone else to take him away from you, and you hated yourself for thinking that.

You saw him the garden, looking sad, you made your way over to him, sitting down next to him, “What happened snow?” There it was, that nickname. It made his heart flutter and his lungs stop working, he wanted nothing but to kiss you. “Nothing.” You insisted on him telling you, but then he finally spoke up, “Do you think, someone could actually think about adopting someone like me?” He wanted to know if you would, he went on about how he thought that maybe he isn’t meant to get all that. But you blurted out before you could think, “I want to adopt you. If that’s okay with of course. I mean- i totally understand if you don’t want me to adopt you. Like, we can find someone else or-“ you were cut off by him hugging you, repeatedly saying yes.

You signed those papers and took him home the same day.

He didn’t think he could be any closer to heaven when he entered your house. Your scent enveloped him. He finally let go of your hand that he had been holding since you asked him if you could adopt him.

At dinner time he practically inhaled the food. You showed him his room and bid him goodnight.

As you were in your bed scrolling through wattpad, you heard loud claps of thunder outside, it was raining. You then heard his voice on the other side of the door, you called him in. “Can I….sleep with you? I wanna cuddle” You wordlessly lifted your blanket and opened your arms, he quickly slipped in next to you.

You both laid together, his head against you chest, but then you felt him nuzzling your neck, almost as if–“Are you scenting me snowflake?” you laugh. “Mmh, yes.” he says in a cocky manner. “You should smell like me, you’re my mate.” Your eyes widen at his words. “Mate?”

He looks up, in panic, he couldn’t believe he said that out loud, “I’m sorry, are you mad? Please don’t send me back-” You cut him off with a finger in his lips, “Hey, I’m not mad, just surprised.”

“So….you accept being my mate? Once you do, be aware there won’t be any breakups like humans.” He warned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, love.”

He leaned in to kiss you, it was a soft kiss, like a promise, your hands threaded through his hair and you parted away, resting your forehead against his. And then you looked into his eyes, and something flips, he pulled you onto his lap, kissing you feverishly, as chaotic as the thunderstorm outside. You returned the kiss back with same fervour. You both pulled away because of the lack of air and smile. You laid back down, his arms around you. And for the first time in a long while, he slept without nightmares but rather, with contentment.

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hey guys lemme know how was it. i’m gonna make this a mini series i guess. should i? LIKES, REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED <3

[sa1ntn3k0]

Snow Leopard Gojo - part 2 (∩˃o˂∩) ♡ nsfw!

Shoving a six-foot-something hybrid into a closet was… not your finest moment.  

“Get in,” you hissed, palms pressed uselessly against Satoru’s bare chest, a chest that felt more like marble than flesh, all hard planes and warmth. He loomed over you, grinning like a cat who’d not only found the cream but also knocked it over for fun.  

“Aw, but it’s cozy in here,” he purred, peering past you at the mountain of laundry and half-empty shoeboxes cluttering your closet. His tail swished lazily, brushing your ankle. “Smells like you, too. Cute.”  

“Satoru-”  

“Shh, your mom’s gonna hear~,” he sing-songed, bending down until his breath ghosted your ear. “Unless you want her to find us like this?”  

Your face flamed. “Don’t be dumb.”  

With a theatrical, yet awfully bratty sigh, he finally stepped backward, folding himself onto the floor like a contortionist. The Hello Kitty towel around his hips rode up dangerously, and you swore he did it on purpose. “Don’t miss me too much,” he whispered, wiggling his big, calloused fingers in a mocking wave.  

You slammed the door, heart thundering.  

The next thirty minutes were agony. Your mother, bless her, had arrived with tupperwares of veggie gyoza and white chocolate chip cookies, her smile soft as she fussed over your “tired eyes” and “skinny arms.” But every creak of the floorboards made you twitch. Your gaze kept darting to the bedroom door, half-expecting Satoru to waltz out, towel dropped, declaring, “Surprise! I’m her new roommate!”  

Somehow, he stayed put.  

Once your mom left, you flung the closet open, only to freeze.  

Satoru sat cross-legged amidst your soft sweaters, his snow-white hair mussed adorably. The towel remained (thank heavens), but clutched in his hands was…  

“Are those my-SATORU!”  

He blinked up at you, your cotton, strawberry-print panties dangling from his teeth like a hunter’s prize. “Mmrf?”

His pupils were blown wide, blue barely peeking from black. Your heart dropped to your bum as you saw that those were the panties you wore yesterday… As in, not washed, dried, faint slick still clung to the middle.

What?!

“You-you pervert!” You lunged, snatching the fabric away. His plush lips quirked into a smirk, and you knew he’d been waiting for this. “Why would you- how even- ?!”  

“They smell like you,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. Before you could die, he leaned forward and licked a stripe up your tiny neck. His pink, rough tongue scraping your pulse point.  

“Eep!” You reeled back, clutching your throat. “Warn a girl!”  

“But where’s the fun in that?” He unfolded himself, tail curling around your waist to steady you. “C’mon, I’m starving… Especially after smelling you. Feed me!”  

You didn’t acknowledge the “smelling you” part, merely walking to the kitchen with your tummy in swirls, heart beating faster than a spooked bunny’s. 

Dinner was a spectacle. You’d cooked the lamb chops thoroughly, plating them with rice and veggies, a meal fit for, well, a person. Satoru took one look at the knife and fork, snorted, and dug in with his hands, tearing into the meat like it owed him fresh ibex.  

“You’re supposed to chew, not inhale,” you muttered, nibbling one of the cookies your mom brought. Your dinner was… weird most of the time. You had warm milk with chocolate in your miffy cup, getting curious side eyes from Satoru. 

He paused, a glob of sauce on his cheek. “Want me to lick the plate next?”  

“No.” 

“You’re no fun.” Still, he let you drag him to the sink afterward, pouting as you scrubbed his hands with citrus-scented soap. “Y’know, my tongue’s self-cleaning.”  

“And I’m self-respecting. Keep your icky germs to yourself.”  

As night fell, Satoru’s true origin spilled out between stolen bites of your cookies. The Himalayas. Poachers. A wealthy owner who’d treated him like a trophy. “Boring lady,” he grumbled, tail thumping the couch. “All she did was take pics for her shitty Instagram. No belly rubs or cuddles. No fun.”  

Your chest ached. “So you… ran?”  

“Duh.” He flicked your nose. “Best decision ever. Led me to you.”  

You busied yourself with dishes to hide your blush. Satoru saw it, though. His tail swished in quiet victory, more like self-satisfaction.  

Bedtime brought a fresh battle.  

You had just finished a relaxing shower, your room smelled of lavender, the lingering scent of your body wash. Changing was meh. You changed in your tiny closet, worried Satoru might walk in and see you naked, but once done, and in your small, soft, very lacy nightgown, you felt more than ready to sleep.

But just as you lay down, you saw Satoru peeking through your cracked open door, his expression beyond cute, just as annoying. It was obvious where his eyes were, trailing your pert body. You felt his pretty blue’s burn harshly on your perky breasts, on your hips, put on display by your little nightgown.

“Bad kitty,” you said, tossing a miffy plushie at Satoru’s smug face. Your cheeks turned rosy, bothered that a mere look from the man could make you so… shy. “You’re sleeping on the couch.”  

He’d changed into your brother’s old sweatpants (too short, clinging to his calves) and a Hello Kitty tee that stretched obscenely over his pecs, the hem riding up to reveal a sliver of toned stomach. “But it’s cold,” he whined, flopping onto your pink bed like an overpowered little prince with the caught plush in hand, well, not little. “And lonely. And scary.”  

“You’re a snow leopard. You are scary.”  

“Please?” He rolled onto his back, paws (hands? Hands.) clasped under his chin. Moonlight gilded his white, thick lashes, his eyes shimmering like twin lagoons. “I’ll be a good boy. Promise.”  

You lasted ten seconds.  

“Fine. But no funny business.”  

He celebrated by rolling himself into a burrito with your Hello Kitty quilts, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth with his ridiculously strong arms. His purr rumbled through you, low and steady, his nose nuzzling your hair.  

“Hey,” you whispered, fingers brushing the collar still snug around his throat. “Why don’t you take this off?”  

He stiffened, then sighed. “…It’s a reminder. That I’m mine now. Not hers.”  

Your heart squeezed. “You are.”  

“Yours too, maybe,” he murmured, so quietly you almost missed it.  

You fell asleep like that, his tail draped over your hip, his breath soft in your ear, his strong heartbeat like a gentle lullaby, and the strangest, sweetest sense that this jerk wasn’t that much of a jerk.  

The rhythm you’d carved out with Satoru was… peculiar, but precious. Mornings began with him sprawled across your chest like a living weighted blanket, his tail flicking your chin until you groaned awake, just like how he was in his cub form. He’d trail you to the kitchen, stealing bites of your buttered, honeyed toast (despite his carnivorous hate for carbs) and sipping your orange juice straight from the carton, just to watch you squawk. Afternoons were for sunbeams, he’d claim the best patches of light, melting into a puddle of purrs near the TV, while you tackled textbooks at the table. Evenings? Those belonged to his obsession with your bathtub. He’d soak for far too long, clouding the water with lavender bubbles, his ears peeking over the rim like misbehaving marshmallows.  

When you’d come in to scold him, he’d pout and dry off, mumbling about how “mean” his owner is. 

But today, something was off.  

You’d returned from class bone-tired, your brain still buzzing with equations, only to freeze in the genkan. The air hummed with a sticky sweetness, honey drizzled over sea salt, floral but feral. Your stomach flipped. “Satoru…?”  

No answer.  

The apartment was eerily tidy. No half-eaten steak abandoned on the counter, no trail of shed fur leading to the couch. No Digimon reruns on TV… Just silence, thick and syrupy. Your pulse spiked as you crept toward the bedroom.  

There, curled in a shivering heap on your rumpled sheets, was Satoru.  

“Oh my god-” You rushed to him, knees hitting the mattress. He clutched your pillow to his face, his knuckles white, breath ragged. His usual alabaster skin was flushed rose-pink, sweat glistening at his temples. The scent intensified here, heady, intoxicating, like orchids dipped in musk.  

“Satoru, look at me,” you pleaded, cupping his jaw. His eyes cracked open, pupils blown so wide his irises were mere slivers of Arctic blue. They glowed faintly, fever-bright. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? Do you need-?”  

“Heat,” he rasped, voice shredded. His claws snagged the pillowcase, threads snapping. “It’s- hah- not… not your problem. Just… go.”  

“Go? You’re burning up!” You pressed a cold, tiny palm to his forehead; he whimpered, nuzzling into your touch like a starved kitten. “Why didn’t you tell me this could happen?!”  

“‘Cause it’s embarrassing,” he hissed, though the effect was ruined by how he arched into your hand, chasing your fingers as you brushed his hair back. “Snow leopards don’t- nngh- don’t do this every year. Just… when we…” His throat bobbed. “…find a mate.”  

Your breath hitched. “Oh.”  

“Not that I’m- ah- proposing,” he gritted out, tail lashing. “Just… biology being a dick. I’ll be fine. Go.”  

But his body betrayed him. He shuddered violently, a broken whine escaping as he rutted against the mattress, hips stuttering. You saw the way his stiff cock pushed against the cotton of his pajamas, the way there was a tiny patch of wetness… pre cum staining the fabric. The motion sent a bolt of heat straight to your cheeks, but not more than the way the bed shook faintly, just a mere glimpse of how strong he is.  

“Stop being stubborn,” you whispered, climbing onto the bed. Your pink sundress rode up to your pretty thighs as you settled against the headboard, legs folded. “C’mere.”  

Satoru stared at you, conflicted, pride warring with desperation. Then, with a tiny wounded noise, he crawled into your lap, his face buried in the crook of your neck. He was trembling, his skin scorching through your clothes.  

“Shh, it’s okay,” you murmured, cradling his head. His ears flattened, velvety against your palms. “You’re okay.”  

“Not okay,” he choked out, fingers clawing the sheets instead of your hips- oh, never mind, his fingers started to knead your hips, like dough. “You’re too… soft. Smell too good. Hate this.”  

“I know,” you soothed, rocking gently. “Just breathe.” Funny thing is, your heart was racing, you should breathe too, but the way Satoru touched you went straight to your core, making you sticky, your panties clinging to the fluid. 

You traced idle patterns over his back, avoiding the dip of his spine where his tail met skin, yet that didn’t change a thing. He jerked, a guttural purr rattling his chest. You felt his lips on your neck, his fangs grazing your skin, begging to sink in, bite you as he fucked you senseless. “Fuck, baby- don’t- please- ”  

“Does this help?” you asked softly, skimming your nails up his nape. Your cheeks burned as you saw the damp spot on his pajamas grow, like he was a leaking faucet of need. 

“Yes. No. Stop.” He gasped, hips rolling helplessly, uselessly. “Don’t… don’t tease me.”  

You weren’t, but hell, it felt like it. Your free hand rested on his tummy, shifting him a little to be comfier. Eyes trying to not stray to his weeping, cotton covered cock, the way it twitched, the way your core oozed more warm slick.

Satoru obviously caught on, having a sharp nose, but he just whined, feeling frustrated. He didn’t want to hurt you, in any way, so he tried to avoid the thought of rutting into you, feeling your tight, warm, gummy insides hug his thick length tight, how he’d fill you with his warm, salty release, maybe watch it flow out as he fingered it back in…

Fuck, this wasn’t helping. 

“I’m not,” you promised, heart aching. His anguish was palpable, a storm of need and restraint. “Tell me what you need.”  

“You,” he keened, the word raw. “But I can’t- won’t- hngh- ”  

“Shh.” You pressed a soft kiss to his temple, tasting salt. “I’ve got you.”  

Slowly, so slowly, you palmed his tummy, the muscles quivering beneath your touch. His breath hitched, a broken sound, but he didn’t pull away. You mapped the planes of his abdomen, going lower despite your heart beating too fast, your body feeling warm, gentling him like a spooked kitten. His purr stuttered, deepened, until the bed vibrated with it.  

Satoru’s breath hitched when your tiny hand brushed the very bottom of his tummy, near his pubic bone. His eyes widened, up on yours as his hands clung to your dress, unintentionally pulling it down, revealing your baby-pink lace-covered, pert breasts.

Your hand hesitantly ran over his stiff cock, lips parting at the sheer size of him, how girthy and long- was his dick curved? You almost fainted, but Satoru’s whine, paired with his puffy lips clinging to your now released nipple, brought you back.

What?

Your panties flooded, and you mewled softly, palming his aching cock as you watched him suckle on your nipple like a hungry baby. His eyes shut a little, and his ears- oh, his cute ears twitched with each suck. His hips jerked up desperately, whimpering nonsense onto your breasts. His sharp little fangs brush the sensitive skin, leaving you a mess.

You couldn’t say no to him anymore. But you hadn’t a clue how to please a man… Sure, you saw a few videos before, a girl jerking her hand up and down the length, the man groaning before he came, but was it the same to every man? You saw the way Satoru was almost crying as he suckled, basking in your palming, but far too needy, far too eager for more.

Who were you to deny him?

You gently pulled his pajamas down, eliciting a whimper from his pink lips, still stubbornly latched onto your nipple. His other hand now kneads your other breast, eyes up on you, looking far too innocent for the situation. 

“Shh, I got you, kitty. Let me take care of you.” Once his throbbing, girthy, long cock bobbed out from his pajamas, your eyes widened, pupils shifting to phantom hearts.

Holy shit.

Satoru was pure fantasy. His weeping dick, and swollen balls aching. His pinkish-red tip dribbled small amounts of milky release, his length covered in faint veins, curved faintly upwards, like a hook. Aroused was an understatement; you had the urge to sink down on him, despite your shy self, to feel his fat tip kiss your soft cervix…

Satoru suckled harder, nipping on your nipple, massaging the other until pliant. You glanced down at him, softly whimpering along to him as you began to follow pure instinct, jerking him off.

“There you go, kitty,” you whispered. “Just let go.”  

He went boneless against you, limbs heavy, face barely hidden, his saliva bathing your now puffy nipple. His tail coiled around your ankle, an anchor. 

Sweet thing hadn’t uttered a coherent word the entire time; that’s how gone he was. Your fingers grazed his swollen tip, adding more pressure to the length as you went up and down. Satoru’s whimper, alongside the jerk of his hips, with the hard nibble of your nipple, told you he was close.

So when his release fell like a waterfall, sticky white fluid spurting from his tip to his clenching tummy, all over your tiny hand, he trembled, ears twitching, tail shaking faintly. His lips didn’t leave your nipple, though, saliva strand staying intact as he looked up to you half lidded, whining softly.

“That’s it, baby… Such a good boy, hm?” You cooed softly, cheeks rosy, matching his. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, hands trembling softly. But when your sticky hand left his relaxed cock, he suckled more, almost begging to have some kind of physicality with you. Your hand cradling his head to your chest allowed him to, feeling your own arousal grow tenfold worse.

After a quick wipe of your sticky hand on his already messy pajamas, you let your hand rub his chest, noticing his sensitive spots far too easily. He whimpered quietly when your fingers lightly ran over his pink nipples, and when your nails brushed his collarbones. 

By the time his breathing evened out, the room smelled of nothing but lavender, sticky release, and sleep.  

His sleep. 

Poor baby was worn out, overwhelmed from the pleasure, rightfully exhausted. 

You didn’t move until moonlight spilled through the curtains. Slipping away only to first get a warm, wet cloth to clean his tummy, then you changed into your coziest Miffy pajamas, pulling a new pair out for him too. You returned to find him sprawled on his back, one arm flung over his eyes. The collar glinted in the dark, like his release.

You gently cleaned his saliva-ridden lips and chin, then his tummy, making sure to get his snowy happy trail clean from release. After removing his dirty pajamas and pulling his new ones up, you threw the cloth and pants in the laundry hamper, settling beside him with burning cheeks and a full heart.

“Stay,” he mumbled, hoarse but lucid, as you slid under the covers.  

“Where else would I go? Silly kitty.” You curled into his side, head on his chest. His heartbeat soothed you, a steady drum beneath your ear.

Pleasuring him was scary at first, but… Now in bed, all comfy and warm with him, you felt far more confident, less shy about it. Sure, your panties were slick, messy with what he caused, but you’d deal with it later; now it was all about Satoru, your baby.

He hesitated, then wrapped around you, his nose in your hair. “…Thanks… ‘M sorry for-”  

“Be quiet, ‘Toru, don’t say dumb stuff,” you teased.  

He huffed a laugh, his ears burning pink, feeling surprisingly shy about being jerked off by his cute little owner. “Shut up.”  

But his big, warm arms tightened, his purr resuming, softer now, a lullaby. You kissed the hollow of his strong throat, just above the collar.  

“Next time,” you whispered, “don’t suffer alone. Please.”  

He didn’t answer. Just nuzzled closer, his tail swathing your legs like the world’s fluffiest blanket. 

But when you slept and felt his cheek nuzzle into your breasts, you knew the answer already.

Silly kitty.

End. 

Whoa! That was a lot, but I hope you truly enjoyed :) I wrote 90% of this half awake, since that's when my brain just locks in and spills the best writing I could ever pull out. I absolutely adore this little munchkin, so I will be making silly little drabbles, both sfw and nsfw, when I have the time. Btw, all my nsfw content is NOT for minors, and please do note I have this written in my intro, which is pinned. Take care of yourselves, lovelies :P

[xazse]

Hello z! Just wanted to say your writing is so yummy and keeps me and the rest of your followers so full😋 BTW! More puppy girl hybrid?? (P.s this is my first request 🙂‍↕️❤️)

PT 2 OF MY MOST RECENT PUPPYGIRL!HYBRID FIC FOR THOSE WHO ASKED!!

PT1 HERE

Notes: IM SO HAPPY IM UR FIRST REQUESTEE! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!! And I’m super glad you enjoy my writing it really means a lot<33

Warnings: Hybrid!Gojo + fem!reader + PuppyHybrid!Reader + smut + small Drabble + not proofread + brat!reader + little bit of sub!Satoru + nipple!teasing + slight crying + overstimulation + mean!Suguru + exhibition

People who asked to be tagged: @qmsvpx @sugurubabe @shokosbunny @rinsluhvr @fuyuji-ii @mashtura @wisteriaflowersss @kickenkricken @rinsluhvr @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni I hope you guys enjoy!

WolfHybrid!Gojo who really can’t take all the teasing you’ve been putting him through. After the first incident Suguru made it 100 percent clear to you specifically that you are to not touch Satoru like that again, who knows what will happen if he’s not around. He’s not scared Satoru will hurt you but he should be eased into the world of pleasure not immediately made to cum on himself his first day in what is now his home.

Suguru scolds you bad, telling you how disappointed he is, how you know better! He knows how needy hybrids get especially your species but the toys he supplies for you should be more than enough. All you did in retaliation was make it a goal to ruin Satoru… poor thing why is he the victim in all of this? And yet he doesn’t even know.

You ignore Suguru’s rule when it’s just you and Satoru in the house.

You make an effort to rub yourself all over his body while wearing the thinnest layer of clothing, when he’s laying on the couch facing the ceiling you’ll come lifting his shirt up and licking all over his chest, even sucking on his nipples as extra stimulation. You love his reactions, everything makes him fully hard and his loud moans fill the empty living room. He can’t process what to do with this pleasure besides grabbing and fondling his cock until he’s finishing in his pants again.

It doesn’t take long for him to be hard all over again, and for you to repeat the process. If he asks if you can help him feel like that again you’ll force him to rub your ears for a good five minutes.

WolfHybrid!Gojo who gets to feel what it’s like being balls deep in your cunt, when you sink your nice ass to meet his pelvis, the poor wolf is fucking gone, he’s never felt something so tight around his cock, he’s never felt anything around his cock! Your plush walls squeeze him so good that he’s having a hard time forming sentences let alone words, all that’s slipping from his pretty slippery pink lips are moans, moans that emphasize how his balls are tightening and he’s cumming deep inside you.

You’re quick to start bouncing so cutely on him, your floppy ears bouncing along with you. Your toys don’t compare to Satoru’s thick cock, how has a woman never felt something like this? You can feel the twitching of his veins as he gets it up once again. You peek at his face to find the wolfman ruined, drool seeps from the corners of his lips and tears are decorating his lash lines.

When you finally cum, it’s a damn mess, the mixture of you two sit where you meet and seep out. The pleasure in the moment doesn’t have you thinking of what Suguru will do to you, doesn’t matter what he will do to the both of you, all you can think of is grinding down on Satoru’s cock for another orgasm.

Bonus!

Suguru is fucking furious, he was mad the first time but he let it slide since it simple curiosity on both sides. The simple curiosity has gone too far, you don’t fucking listen. Since the moment he had welcomed you into his home a few years back he’s had a hard time getting you to listen to directions.

He doesn’t hear you out when he drags you and Satoru to the bedroom, in fact he tells the both of you to keep going. You find yourselves shy under his eye and insist that you’ve both learned your lesson from his lecture earlier. He wasn’t really lecturing Satoru since he doesn’t know the rules as well as you do but this is a great learning moment.

He ignores you, ignores how you’re using the sweet eyes with him, he’s dead serious.

You’re quick to obey and incite a small kiss with Satoru, that turns into a full on make-out with Suguru watching intently.

The rest of the night is filled with moans and groans of complaints, Suguru had told Satoru to let any lewd feelings he had all on you, Satoru does not hold back at all, he fucks his thick cock into your sensitive walls over and over, the mess from earlier helps as to not hurt you so it’s so easy for him to slide back and forth. Satoru found himself ecstatic at the start but when he finds his cock overstimulated and his balls hurting from the painful pleasure he’s not feeling the same, but he for some reason won’t stop his hips from moving, he loves the feeling of having you cum around him nonstop, he loves Suguru watching him so intently, everything mixed together.

Your clit is so slippery that it’s hard to pinpoint where you should be rubbing, everytime you stop Suguru is quick to snap at you to keep going, this is what you wanted correct? He makes sure to ask that out loud, you’re so fucking adorable with the way you nod in his direction, he knows you have a few more in you.

[yerchokito]

PRETTY KITTY TURNS PRETTY HORNY .ᐟ FT SATORU GOJO

synopsis - finally you decided to adopt a new friend at the adoption centre! only, he wants to be more that friends…

warnings - p in v, brief oral sex (fem receiving) unprotected sex, slight manipulation(?) creampie, shitty smut, petname: master used mockingly, not thoroughly proofread, talk of potential children, lowk masochist gojo, ect ect. fem reader

notes - yay I finally got this out! lol it honestly did get a bit sloppy at the end but I wanted to get this out b4 christmas!enjoy! the smut is lowkey short but I don’t want to fix it..

edit - I just realised I posted this on his death date

Phew, you did it.

You finally grew a pair and adopted a newly rescued snow-leopard hybrid! After months of your self-pitying you managed to convince yourself to adopt a friend!

You spent many, many hours contemplating on whether to actually adopt. And many hours more watching sad videos on hybrids, how mistreated they are out of the adoption centre.

That was more than enough to convince you.

Now you have an exotic hybrid of your own! And he’s just the cutest little—er big thing! He’s got fluffy little ears, a handsome face, striking blue eyes, and the fluffiest tail in the world!

You’ve learnt a lot about him. His name is Satoru Gojo, around the same age as you! Unfortunately, he spent a lot of his life in illegal fighting rings. Poor thing almost got killed a while back. Luckily, his caretakers at the agency have had no aggression problems with him! He’s affectionate, friendly, reckless at times, but overall great to have as a first time owner!

He’s really—really big. His head just about reaches the ceiling of your small apartment. It's gonna be hard finding clothes for the man. Let alone a bed.

But that’s all a problem for future you!

Packing him in the car was a hefty thing, his tallness being the main problem, a little cramped (he had to lay half his body on the floor) but it worked in the end!

As soon as you bought the little—uh, big critter home, you pampered him with affections. Petting his head, rubbing his ears, scratching under his chin all that stuff that makes him mushy in the brain!

The only problem would be leaving him alone… he’s fairly clingy. You’ll just have to work on that. He seems capable enough. Hopefully…

Note to self: get a baby cam.

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

Maybe this was a mistake.

Satoru’s a really good guy, he’s friendly, definitely affectionate and really clingy. All good qualities that you love about him!

But, there are qualities you come to… dislike, so to say.

He’s bratty. defiant against your house rules, a back-talker.

He always wants attention. Pushing things off counters or using his tail to block your eyes whenever he wants to annoy you.

He’s very manipulative. Using his wide eyes to trick you—or anyone—into giving him sweets!

He’s also unbearably horny, probably his worst trait. Always trying to rub against you, heck even mount you! For someone so angelic-looking, he sure ain’t an angel.

And you can name a couple of… embarrassing incidents.

Incident #1

“Hey—Toru! What are you doing, stop that!” You shout, trying to push him back and away from— wait, are those your panties he has in your mouth!

“Satoru! Bad boy, get those out of your mouth!” You splutter, face flushing red.

But, apparently you adopted the devil.

He tilts his head in an innocent way, ears flopping to the side as he deviously munches on your precious—and very expensive—underwear.

You try to wrestle them away from his maw, unlucky for you, you’ve also adopted an abnormally tall hybrid. His innocent act drops as he dangles them above your head, laughing at your embarrassment.

Of course, he gave it back. Not without it slicked in his spit and now turned crotchless.

It was… not a great moment for you or your hopes of being dominant over him.

Incident #2

It’s a nice sunny morning, you got up earlier than your alarm, made a nice breakfast, and finally got that darned work assignment finished.

A peaceful day.

Until your precious kitty takes his biting urges on you.

“Satoru, do-don’t bite meee!” You whine, once again trying to push away the snarky beast. God, why must he be twice your size.

He chuffs, pining you with his weight as he nibbles at your skin. Tail swaying mischievously behind him.

“Mn—be still, lemme jus’…” He whispers. Devious man he is. His nibbling becomes full-blown bites, decorating your neck and collarbone in a bazillion bite marks.

Satoru only giggles at your pathetic attempts of squirming away. Pfft, you think he’ll let you walk away? Nothing gets away from his keen eyes.

Needless to say, the bite marks were not a fashion statement at work. Didn’t really capture as many complements as it did laughter.

Note to self: Invest in a muzzle.

Incident #3

Now, maybe this is your fault. You did notice the change in behaviour, he’s always been clingy— the staff at the agency did say he was… the possessive type. But! You didn’t notice the possessiveness until now! So it’s not entirely your fault.

Okay, maybe his growling at your friend— male, should you note— was a teensy red flag, the constant butting of his head against you was also alerting you. So you maybe-sorta-should’ve predicted this.

Maybe if you realised that Satoru is not entirely human (even though he acts like it), you would’ve remembered he has an amazing sense of smell.

“aaahnn… mornin’ Toru’, how did you sleep hm?” you yawn. The lack of response is unnerving, and rude.

“Hey now, ts’ not nice to ignore me, Satoru.” Again silence, wait—what the-?

“Oof! Satoru—gah!—get off!” You struggle, your overgrown hybrid kitty has decided to pounce on you, his full weight crushing you.

“H-hey—oh!” Did.. did you feel that correctly, is your boy.. oh gosh.

“Mrrow…mn, you smell s’ good.” His breath is hot against your neck, sniffing at your throat, his fuzzy ears rubbing under your chin.

“Mnh—heat, in heat? mrr..” He purrs, big hands encasing yours as the big idiot rocks his hips against your backside— oh my.

“H-huh? No, down Satoru! Bad boy—ooh!—don-don’t!” You try not to moan out as he ruts against you. Licking at the nape of your neck, almost mockingly.

“Heh— shh, I’ll take care of ya. Aw’ you’re so small compared to me..” Satoru breathes, chuckling like he always does.

…

Lets just say, Satoru has become real good friends with the spray bottle.

Note to self: Get him neutered.

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

And there are way more incidents as… sexual as these ones. You love the big guy, he’s cuddly, got a fuzzy head, really warm, but he seems to really enjoy mounting you. Like, really badly.

He’s become a menace! I mean, you knew he wasn’t neutered, but you didn’t think he’d be interested in you!

It's almost everyday he tries to get in your pants! Gotta hand it to him, he’s really persistent.

Well, you won’t be taking any of his nonsense today!

“Satoru! Breakfast!” You yell out. You hear him scurrying around the corner, jeez food fein.

“Heh, mm waffles..” He purrs at your feet, nuzzling against the back of your knee.

He wraps his tail around your ankle, hands gently kneading at your leg. Nose twitching at the sugary smells.

“You hungry, sweetie?” You coo, petting the big oafs head.

Awh, maybe you’re being too harsh on him. He’s your baby, he doesn’t know any better!

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

Oh who were you kidding, of course he knows what he’s doing! Why are you so gullible?

What was supposed to be a nice, calm, peaceful, non-sexual breakfast, ends up with your mischievous kitty munching on your pussy instead!

He’s got your legs up, knees having small-talk to your shoulders whilst he —quite literally— devours you.

“Satoruuu!— don’t do thaah! Oh!” You squeak. You weakly push on his head, trying to get him away from your front.

Unfortunately, Satoru is a determined cat.

“Mnn, be still. M’ hungry.” He purrs between your legs, the vibrations of his voice send tingles up your spine.

For Satoru, that delicious nectar leaking out of you is heavenly. Until this thin, pathetic piece of fabric ruins his meal. If only he could just…

rripp!

“H-huh? S’toru! Those were expensiveee— haa!” You scold. well, try to. It’s hard to speak when you’re literally breathless.

He tongues at your now naked pussy, slurping all that gooey goodness you so graciously produce. So sweet.

He pulls back, your cunt and his mouth connected by a sloppy string of spit. He coo’s and presses a kiss hard against your clit, making you twitch and moan.

Out of the corner of your eye you see the devil incarnate smiling so sweetly, his tail curling around your ankle. What was once a sweet gesture is now no longer reassuring.

Your ‘innocent’ kitty now has free rein to your more… primal parts. The stronger scent pulls on Satoru’s will, he whines at the sudden, yet aggressive urge to bury himself inside you.

Hmm maybe he should.

Hoisting himself up, Satoru leans back on his calves, admiring the little mess he’s made of you. Flushed red, panting, drooling, and completely high on the pleasure. His pants tighten.

He’s been blessed with such a cute owner!

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

Plap! Plap! Plap!

“Haa— d’aww don’t be so shy, master. Heh—fhuck!” Said the devil incarnate, mockingly.

Satoru is a condescending bunch, cute but really full of himself. It’s shows in his way of fucking.

He has you on your back, legs resting on his broad shoulders as he literally folds you in half. Your head is just reeling, your face is covered in his spit, hairline all sweaty, jaw hanging open, and you're burning all over!

His cock is big, too big. It nearly split you in half when he tried to fit it in. He’s never been a patient kitty.

“Awhhh— masterrrr, you’re tightenin’ up sho’ muchhh…” He purrs. Tail swaying mockingly.

Leaning forward, Satoru nuzzles his ears against your cheek, wanting to be pet.

Unfortunately, you’re incoherent to his requests. Too focused on the harsh rutting of his cock into your sticky cunt.

“Heyyy… pet meee,” He whines, “Hm? Heh— tappin’ out already?” His eyes gleam with mischievous-ness as he grins a toothy grin. You’re not gonna make it out alive.

He bites his lip, giggling at your pleasured face. If only he could take a picture, save this moment forever. He cups your face, caressing your sweaty cheeks, then presses a loving kiss to your lips.

“Mwah! Hehe— you’re so cute,” He whispers against your lips.

In midst of this somewhat sweet moment, the pace of Satoru rolling his hips against you increases. Then turning into him full on slamming his hips into yours, huffing as he focuses on pounding you into next week.

All you can do is grip onto him, tugging on his ears. He moans pornographically, drooling as you harshly grip his sensitive ears. The painful yet pleasant sensation sparks something new in Satoru.

With the intent to breed, Satoru turns you over. His chest to your back as he leans his weight on you, arms wrapping tightly around your sweaty skin.

This new position gives Satoru a better chance at giving you some cute mini him’s!

“Oh! Oh!—Toruuu’!” You squeal, tears now brimming in your eyes at the overwhelming feeling that is undoubtedly him.

Without warning, you cum. Hole clenching and spasming and coating his lower body in a translucent liquid.

“Hm—hah— I knew you wan—ahn—wanted me!” He mewls, quickly pounding in and out, creating a wet ‘schlick!’ sound.

Oh you’re so perverted! Letting your precious kitty take you like this!

You’ll never live this down.

Satoru doesn’t seem to care.

“Oooh— m’ cumming, nng— masterrr!” He moans, non-stop humping into your creamy pussy, drooling all over you.

“Not—not insideee! Toru’!” You cry out, pushing your hips back to get him off of you, it does the opposite.

His tail wraps around your thigh as he cums. It splurts frantically inside of you, his cock twitching violently as he whines in pleasure.

It’s hot, sticky and definitely a thick load. It feels endless, liquidy rope after rope. But it feels so refreshing.

He pulls out (you didn’t think he would), nuzzling and purring at the nape of your neck. Innocently licking at your tear-stricken cheeks.

…

It’s been so long since you last experienced this pleasure.

You’ll definitely regret this later.

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

Oh god, why did you do that!

Having sex with a hybrid is just a different type of low, even for you!

Oh jeez, you're just as perverted as him! Oh whywhywhywhy! He was just supposed to be a companion! Not a—

“Mrr, pet meee..” Satoru whines, pawning at your chest. He’s back to his old self again.

Mostly. He’s become more… confident in his abilities over you. Let’s just say after your regrettable (not in his eyes) playtime with him, he has no restraint on mounting you now. The idiots even started humping you in public!

Which is why you’ve been leaving him at home.

Now more than ever, you two spend a lot of time together. Mostly consisting of naps, him licking you, more naps, eating… recreational activities, blah blah blah. He now sleeps on your bed, he’s more like an overstayed one night stand than an exotic cat.

At Least he’s extra cuddly!

[itsjustaoreofan]

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Nanami fucks you like he hates you ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Husband Nanami who loves everything about you! From your moles to your stretch marks! But there truly was something he wanted this Christmas, another child.

“Darling~” “you’re doing so well”. “Can you last a little longer?” “Hmm?” “Speak up please my love” he said but all he could hear was your constant babbling. Eyes rolled back, freshly done nails leaving scars in his back. Because his pretty little wife can’t handle him.

His mean bully cock buried deep inside your soaking pussy. The brutal speed being too much for you to handle. Nanami had you in a mean mating press. His cock throbbing and twitching inside you. The sound of skin slapping against each other could probably be heard from all the way next door. “One round he said” what a lie. You couldn't keep count on how many times he had filled you up. He kissed up the tears that where falling from your, his whispers of sweet, sweet words didn’t make since due to the way his cock was slammed inside you!

this is the worst thing I wrote help

[snail-day]

Who's a good little hybrid?

Sum: You're a bit of a loser, so you get yourself a companion. What could go wrong?

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Yuki

TW: Yandere Behaviors, Hybrids (Puppy!Gojo, Fox!Geto, Hyena!Yuki), knotting, mentions of pseudopenis (female hyena trait), mentions of murder/human organs (Yuki), dubcon, intoxication, infantilization (Geto), MDNI

WC: 6.0k

A/n: This one was a little tame. Enjoy! Tried to give a more wholesome vibe given the current events :)

A sweet little homebody like you needed a companion, didn’t you? Someone to keep you company, to brighten your days, to be there when the silence got a little too heavy.  

The adoption agency was more than happy to help. They just… didn’t tell you everything.  

Some hybrids weren’t easy. Some had been returned again and again—too needy, too intense, too much for anyone else to handle.  

But you’re different, aren’t you?  

You’re always home. You have all the time in the world to care for someone who just needs a little extra love. And isn’t that what you wanted in the first place? Someone who would love you unconditionally?  

So go ahead. Pick one. But choose wisely.  

Bringing home the bright blue-eyed puppy hybrid—who just loves you so much!  

Gojo Satoru adores you. From the moment he first saw you, it was like the whole world had finally made sense. He loves you more than the sun spilling through the curtains in the morning, more than the softness of a warm blanket, more than anything else he’s ever known.  

And he shows it.  

He’s always close—curled up against your side, white fluffy tail thumping against your leg, bright blue eyes following your every move with unwavering devotion. He buries his face into your chest, nuzzling against your warmth, fingers clutching your shirt like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. Your bed smells like him now—like the hours he spends tangled in your sheets, chasing the lingering traces of your scent.  

You needed companionship. He needed a purpose. Isn’t this perfect?  

He tries so hard to be the best for you. To be everything you could ever want. To make sure you never need anyone else.  

But you keep leaving.  Honestly, you're turning him into an anxious pup!

The jingle of your keys makes his ears twitch. Your hand on the doorknob makes his stomach sink. His tail slows, his fingers flex—like he wants to reach for you, to tug you back into his arms, to beg you not to go.  

You don’t mean to make him sad. You have responsibilities, a life outside these four walls. But every time you step through that door, something inside him aches. His ears droop, his heart squeezes, a tiny, helpless whine gets caught in his throat.  

Why do you have to go? Why can’t you just stay?  

You promise you’ll be back. But it’s never soon enough.  

And when you’re gone too long, well… he gets lonely.  

You really shouldn’t have bought those fancy embroidered pillows.  

Because when you finally come home, it’s to a scene of absolute destruction. Feathers floating lazily through the air, fabric torn apart, stuffing scattered everywhere like snowfall. And right in the center of it all?  

Satoru.  

Ears perked, tail wagging, those bright blue eyes sparkling with something close to mischief—completely unrepentant.  

Your exasperation only makes him grin wider. Even as you put your hands on your hips, even as you scold him, his ears twitch like he doesn’t quite understand why you’re upset. And then, just like always, he’s stepping forward, pressing his face against your stomach, arms wrapping around you as he buries himself in your warmth.  

"Missed you too much," he murmurs, voice muffled against your clothes. His tail wags again, brushing against your legs, his grip tightening like he never wants to let go.  

How could you possibly stay mad? When he just loves you so much?  

But it gets worse.  

You hear it before you see it—the soft shrrk of fabric giving way, the quiet tug of seams splitting apart. And when you step into the room, his back is to you, ears perked, tail swishing lazily as he grips one of your stuffed animals between his teeth.  

It’s one of your favorites. One that sleeps beside you at night, tucked against your chest.  

He isn’t allowed to do that.  

And it’s not fair.  

So, can you really blame him for taking matters into his own hands?  

Standing in your room, he glanced at the stuffed animals piled neatly on your bed. His lips twitched into a scowl.  

Those things.  

He threw a quick jab at one of them, his fist making a satisfying poof as it landed against the plush fabric.  

"Lucky bastards," he muttered under his breath, punching another one. "Snuggling up to her every night, huh? Probably pressed right up against her..."  

He paused, picking up one of the stuffed animals and holding it at arm’s length. "Bet she kisses you goodnight too."

His grip tightened around the plush toy, sharp canines flashing as he contemplated just how easy it would be to rip it apart—just like the others.  

The sound of the front door clicking open startled him.  

"What are you doing?"

Your voice came from the doorway, and Satoru froze. Slowly, he turned to face you, caught red-handed with the stuffed animal still in his hand.  

You stood there, a confused expression on your face as you looked between him and the mess he’d made of your bed.  

"Uh… Satoru?"

"Hey!" He forced a bright grin, quickly smoothing out the plush toy and placing it carefully back on your bed like nothing had happened. "You’re back early."

You tilted your head, blinking. "Yeah, my professor canceled class. Why are you in my room?"

"I, uh…" Satoru rubbed the back of his neck, his usual confidence faltering for just a second before he plastered on another grin. "I was fixing your stuffed animals. They looked like they needed some...attention, wait, fixing!” 

You squinted at him, confused. "Fixing them? Did they… need fixing?" 

He laughed, waving his hand dismissively. "Well, no, but I figured I’d do a little quality check. Sniffed them for drugs and pesticides. You’re welcome, by the way."

Your confusion only deepened as you stepped further into the room, glancing at your bed. "Uh-huh… and why are they all out of place? Did you punch one of them? That bunny looks like it’s been through something."

"What? Me? Punch your precious bunny?" Satoru feigned offense, clutching his chest dramatically. "I would never."

You frowned, walking over to your bed to inspect the damage, fingers grazing the rumpled sheets and displaced plushies. the slight drool glistening on some. "Right…"

Behind you, his tail wagged slowly. Bright blue eyes watched you, filled with something unreadable—something quiet, waiting.

You didn’t notice the way his fingers twitched at his sides. The way his ears perked, listening to every shift of your weight, every tiny inhale.

Because you were here. In his space. With him.

Safe.

Right where you belonged. He can finally confess how he feels!

But then—

"Satoru," you sighed, rubbing your temples. "I can’t keep doing this. If you don’t start behaving, I might have to—"

You don’t even get the words out before he moves.

Too fast. Too desperate.

The air shifts, and suddenly, your back is against the bed, warmth pressing against you, his chest rising and falling in slow, unsteady breaths. His arms cage you in—not forcefully, but like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.

His head dips, white hair brushing against your cheek as his nose skims along your jaw, his breath warm and unsteady. He breathes you in like he’s trying to memorize you, like you might disappear at any moment. A low, rumbling sound vibrates in his chest—not quite a growl, but something raw, something fragile hiding beneath it.

Not enough to hurt.

But enough to plead.

"Take me back?" he murmurs, voice soft, wavering just slightly, like he’s trying to make this sound like a joke. Like he’s pretending your words didn’t just gut him. But the way his fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt, the way his tail flicks in restless, uneven movements—it makes your stomach twist.

His ears twitch, his lips hover near your pulse, and you freeze.

"You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?"

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, and you feel your breath catch in your throat.

His smile is there, easy as always, curling at the edges, but it’s fragile. Shaky. The way his ears droop slightly, the way his tail has slowed, the way his eyes—so bright, so full of devotion—hold something so painfully uncertain…

"You wouldn’t abandon me, right?" His voice is quieter now, smaller. "I try so hard to be good for you."

Your heart pounds against your chest. You swallow.

You didn’t mean it. Not really. It was frustration, exhaustion—coming home to yet another ruined couch, another chewed-up pair of slippers, another mess to clean. But now, staring into those unblinking blue eyes, you realize—

You can’t threaten him like that.

Not unless you’re ready to see what happens when he truly believes you’ll leave.

But it doesn’t stop there.

It happens again the first time you come home late.

You barely get two steps inside before he’s on you, a blur of white fur and restless energy, his arms winding around your waist as he buries his face into your neck. His tail wags, his ears flick forward, his body practically vibrating with relief.

And then—he stills.

The shift is subtle. His tail slows, his nose scrunches. His fingers tighten around your shirt, twisting the fabric between his fingers, knuckles whitening just slightly.

Then comes the sound. Not a growl. Not a snarl.

A whimper. Soft. Hurt.

“Satoru?”

He doesn’t answer at first. Instead, he sniffs you again. A slow, deliberate inhale, dragging in every trace of scent clinging to your skin. His brows furrow. His grip tightens.

Then—his ears flatten.

"Who was it?" he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

"What?"

"Who touched you?"

You laugh, confused, maybe a little uneasy. "What are you talking about? I just—"

He yanks you closer.

Not rough, not forceful—desperate.

Your breath catches. His claws dig into your wrist, his nose pressing against the side of your neck. You can feel his teeth just barely graze your pulse, a featherlight touch that shouldn’t feel so broken, but does.

"You smell like them." His voice wavers, thick with something you can’t quite place. "Not me."

A sharp breath. A wet sound in his throat, like he’s swallowing something back.

"Did you—" he stops himself, breath hitching, ears flattening further against his head. His tail has gone completely still.

He takes another slow inhale, his fingers tightening, his body trembling just slightly against yours.

"Disgusting," he mutters, voice shaky, raw. His tongue flicks out, dragging slowly along your skin. Slick. His hands tighten. "They ruined it. You’re supposed to be mine. I keep you safe. I keep you warm. Why—why would you let them—"

You shove at his chest. “Satoru, let go—”

His arms tighten.

"No."

His voice is small.

"No. I won’t."

Your stomach twists.

"Satoru—"

"Fix it." His voice is barely more than a whisper now, lips brushing your jaw, his tail tucked between his legs. "Make it go away. Please." each breath coming out shaken, his hands clinging to you like you might slip away forever. "You don’t need anyone else, do you? I’m right here. Always right here."

Your pulse pounds in your ears. You push harder, palms flat against his chest.

For a second, he looks—hurt.

His ears twitch, his tail curls in just slightly, like he’s trying to make himself smaller.

Then—he laughs.

It’s not a happy laugh.

It’s quiet. Unsteady. A little cracked around the edges.

"Ahh," he sighs, dragging a hand through his messy hair, his grin tilting, strained. "I see how it is."

He doesn’t say anything else.

But later that night, when you go to bed, you notice something.

Your jacket, the one you wore when you were out, is missing.

Your new shoes? Ripped apart, shredded fabric and torn laces were left in pieces near the door.

The next day, your bedsheets are destroyed.

And that’s when you realize with the help of Hyrbid Wikipedia.

He’s getting rid of everything that doesn’t smell like him.

So, to solve the issue of constantly having to replace your things, you finally allow your sweet, wounded pup into bed with you.

He wins.

Of course, he does.

But when he curls up beside you, when he buries his face into your chest and lets out a soft, relieved sigh, you realize—

It was never about winning.

He just needed to know you weren’t going anywhere.

You don’t know his past.

The pound didn’t have any records—just his name, his breed, and a vague mention that he’d been returned more than once. No details. No explanations. Just a blank space where his history should be.

And there are things you don’t know.

Like why he flinches when something shatters too loud, why his muscles coil when footsteps approach too quickly, why his body tenses, ready—expecting—to fight. His instincts are sharper than other hybrids. His rage runs deeper. His obsession feels inescapable.

You don’t know that before you, he belonged to someone else.

That he wasn’t always a pet.

That there was a time when he was used for something else entirely.

Fights. Blood. Survival.

The only thing he’s ever known is how to be the strongest. How to win. How to keep what’s his.

And now, he has you.

Something soft. Something fragile.

Something that belongs to him.

He’s not going to lose you.

Not like before.

So if you ever try to leave him… it only makes him sweeter. Perhaps even a little feral.

You don’t know why you even let him pick the movie.

Satoru is already curled on top of you, his long limbs tangled around you, his fluffy white tail thumping lazily against the couch. His weight presses you deep into the cushions, his cheek resting on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.

The moment the opening credits roll, he lets out a pleased sigh, rubbing against you like a spoiled puppy demanding affection.

"You're warm," he hums, arms already tightening around your waist. You feel his claws scratch against your spine, securing you in place. Like he’s making sure you don’t slip away.

Like you could slip away.

"Satoru," you deadpan, shifting beneath him. "You’re huge. Get off."

He whines. Actually whines. Loudly.

"But 'm comfy," he pouts, nuzzling into your neck, soft white ears flicking.

You roll your eyes, pushing at his forehead. "We’re supposed to be watching the movie."

But he’s barely paying attention.

Because what’s scarier than the thought of being away from you?

The screen flickers with shadows and blood, but he’s too focused on the sound of your breathing, the way your heartbeat subtly changes with each scene, the way your scent shifts—just slightly—when tension builds.

Then, the first jumpscare hits.

You jolt.

He notices.

"Aww, is my owner scared?" His voice dips into a teasing purr, his lips curling into a lazy grin. His tail flicks, his ears perking as he nestles closer, his nose brushing against your temple.

"I'm not scared," you grumble, but your grip on the blanket tightens.

He sees.

And he can’t help himself.

"S’okay," he murmurs, softer now. His voice is low, syrupy-sweet, his fingers tracing slow circles against your back. "You don’t have to be brave. I’ll protect you."

Before you can argue, he moves.

Shifts.

Pulls you fully into his lap, tucking your head beneath his chin, his arms locked firm around you. The blanket pools around your shoulders, but his warmth is everywhere.

A cage disguised as comfort.

His lips graze your hair. "Bet you’re real glad I’m here now, huh?" he chuckles, pressing a teasing kiss to your temple.

You sigh. "I think you’re just using this as an excuse to cuddle me."

"What? Me? Never." His tail wags. Loudly thumping against the couch, giving away all his motives.

You don’t pull away.

And he takes that as permission to tighten his hold, to keep you there, his breath soft against your ear as he lets out a contented sigh.

This.

This is all he needs.

Because as long as you’re wrapped in his arms, drowning in his scent, pressed against him so tight that no one else could ever steal you away—

He knows you’re safe.

At first, he tries to be patient. He whines. He pouts. He clings to you every morning, dragging you back into bed when you try to leave, nuzzling into your stomach, pretending to be drowsy just to steal a few more minutes.

But it’s not enough.

Because at the end of the day—

You still leave him.

So, one day, he decides to fix it.

While you’re gone, he does a little research.

Not on how to help your job.

Not on how to keep himself entertained.

No.

He looks up ways to make sure you never leave him again.

He orders a camera—small, discreet, perfectly placed. He sets it up in the bedroom, aimed exactly where he wants it.

And he buys something else, too.

Something cute.

Something soft.

Something that would make you so, so perfect for him.

When you get home, tired and unaware, he’s already waiting.

You don’t notice anything is off—until he grabs your wrist, tugging you into his lap. Those bright blue eyes of his gleam, tail flicking with excitement as he nuzzles into your shoulder.

"I found a solution," he hums, far too pleased with himself. Satoru did so much research today, you should be proud!

"Solution to what?" you blink, trying to pull away.

His arms tighten.

"To your work problem," he grins, sharp teeth flashing.

You don’t like that smile.

"Satoru—"

He cuts you off with a kiss—soft, slow, only the occasional teasing nip. His fingers trail down your spine.

"Did you know there are people out there with hybrid fetishes?" he murmurs, lips ghosting over your ear.

Your stomach drops. Cheeks flushing.

"W-what—"

"Mmh. Looked it up myself." His voice is honeyed, teasing—but there’s something darker beneath it. "Figured if I can’t have you leave the house, maybe you can just… work from home?"

And then—

He pulls it out.

A set of ears. A soft, delicate tail, with a plug. And a collar.

"You’ll be my cute little bunny, won’t you?" he coos, pressing the set into your hands, watching you with eager, expectant eyes.

His fingers graze the collar, tracing over the leather, intimate. Knowing.

"You’ll stay here. Work from home. With me."

His lips skim your jaw.

"I’ll take good care of you."

And in return—

He gets to stuff you full.

A tsundere fox that hates all humans!

Filthy, pathetic creatures. Insignificant specks in a world that doesn’t belong to them. Geto Suguru has seen them scurry about, blissfully ignorant, pretending they hold dominion over hybrids—when in reality, they are weak, prey, undeserving of the air they breathe.

As a fox hybrid, he would rather die than submit to one.

His sharp, golden eyes flicker with quiet disdain whenever he sees them—sees you. His pointed ears, dusted in black, twitch at the grating sound of your voice, that thick dark tail of his flicking lazily behind him, betraying the irritation simmering beneath his calm exterior. You don’t deserve a predator like him. He should be leading the movement, standing at the forefront of the revolution for hybrid supremacy—not here, in this tiny, insignificant apartment, pretending to be domesticated.

Hybrids are the superior species. He is superior.

Yet, humans refuse to acknowledge it, denying hybrids the rights they deserve.

Only recently have they been granted the barest semblance of equality. A law allowing them to work menial, low-risk jobs. Another permitting them to date and marry humans—as if that was something any self-respecting hybrid would want.

Geto has fought for years. Led the fight. Not just an advocate, but a prophet to those who see the truth. His followers understand—the world belongs to hybrids. Humans should be the ones in cages, on leashes, obedient.

And yet…

Here he is.

With you.

You a weak, fragile, human. Somehow, somehow, you managed to adopt him. A predator like himself, bound to you.

At first, it was tolerable.

You worked from home, which made it easy for him to ignore your existence while he lounged around, his thick tail curling around his legs, his sharp claws idly scratching at the armrest of the couch.

But your habits disgusted him.

The scent of caffeine clung to you like a disease, bitter and artificial, staining the air he breathed. He tolerated it—until he didn’t. Until he took matters into his own hands, discarding every last one of your caffeinated drinks, ignoring your feeble protests.

Instead, he makes your coffee now.

Every morning, he drags your exhausted body out of bed, his black-tipped claws skimming over your wrist as he forces a warm cup into your hands. His golden eyes narrow at the dark circles under your eyes, at the way you yawn without covering your mouth. “Disgusting,” he mutters under his breath, rolling his shoulders, his long tail flicking in annoyance.

If you behave, Suguru rewards you—an afternoon matcha latte, crafted with the delicate touch of his clawed fingers, a little heart in the foam just for you. Not that he’d ever admit that part aloud. Tells himself it’s necessary.

Someone like you wouldn’t survive on your own. If you were a hybrid, he thinks you’d be something fragile. A bunny. A deer. Prey. And predators must care for their prey. Must ensure they stay soft, obedient. Dependent.

Suguru doesn’t like how you push back against him.

You whine when he pulls you into his lap, grumbling as his arms drape over your shoulders, rolling your eyes when he scolds you for neglecting yourself. But he knows you need him.

What would you even do without him?

You’d forget to eat if he wasn’t here to force you. He’s noticed—the way you poke at your food absentmindedly, pushing your plate away when you think he’s not looking. Foolish little thing. He spends hours cooking for you, perfecting each meal, and you deny him? No, that won’t do.

His clawed fingers curl around your wrist, lifting the spoon to your lips, his golden eyes dark with something unreadable.

When you squirm, when you try to turn away, he only smiles.

A slow, lazy, knowing smile—because you are so small compared to him. So weak.

You can’t fight him. Not really.

And why would you want to?

He’s only trying to take care of you.

You should appreciate him more.

Lately, you’ve been trying to resist him in other ways. Setting boundaries. Pushing him out of your bed at night. It’s adorable, really. Do you truly think you can overpower him?

With a lazy roll, he’s on top of you, pinning you beneath him with ease, arms wrapped around you in an unbreakable grip. His nose buries into your hair, inhaling deeply, his sigh warm against your skin.

You smell like him now. You belong to him.

That’s why it’s so unbearable when you come home smelling like someone else.

His sharp nose picks up on it immediately. The faint scent of another male. Another presence tainting his territory, clinging to you. The stench of alcohol makes it worse, filling the space he’s carefully curated to be yours and his alone.

He’s spent months making sure your scent stays sweet, tending to you with meticulous care. He’s the one who keeps you healthy. The one who cuts your fruit into perfect little stars and hearts so you don’t choke like the helpless thing you are. The one who carefully fills your cup (one that he keeps telling you is not a sippy cup. It is.) with the ideal juice-to-water ratio, making sure you get enough vitamins. 

He keeps your body pure.

And yet, here you are—stumbling through the door, drunk off your ass.

Your cheeks are flushed, lips parted in a breathless giggle, your words slurred and incoherent as you look up at him with those dazed, trusting eyes.

How dare you?

Suguru's golden eyes narrow, his fox ears twitch in irritation, his thick, black-tipped tail flicking once—twice—before a slow sigh slips from his lips.

"Unbelievable."

He steps forward, effortlessly scooping you into his arms. You whimper in protest, squirming weakly, but it’s pathetic. Meaningless. His grip is firm, steady, cradling you with an ease that should be humiliating—because really, what exactly did you think you were going to do? Fight him?

You can’t even stand properly.

“Of all the things,” he mutters, mostly to himself, voice edged with annoyance, but there’s something else there—something tight in his tone, something clenching in his jaw as he carries you straight into the bathroom, ignoring your little hiccups of defiance.

“You don’t even know what’s good for you,” he huffs, carefully lowering you onto the edge of the tub. His long fingers, usually so precise, so calculated, fumble for only a moment as he reaches for the shower knob, twisting it until steam begins to rise.

You groan in protest, flimsy arms shoving at his chest, your pout deepening. "Don't wanna—"

"Yeah?" Suguru's golden eyes flash, irritation flickering across his face as his clawed fingers make quick work of your clothing, peeling away each layer without hesitation. “And whose fault is that?”

You squeak, your arms snapping up to cover yourself, face burning—but he doesn’t even look. His movements are clinical, impassive, detached—or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

It’s not like his ears heat at the tips when your bare skin is exposed to the humid air. It’s not like his throat suddenly feels tight, like something primal is thrumming beneath his ribs.

It’s not like you smell so much sweeter when you’re all flushed and weak like this.

No. Definitely not.

His tail flicks sharply behind him as he lifts you with ease, stepping into the shower with you, his clawed fingers threading into your hair, lathering the shampoo with slow, methodical motions.

Your body slumps against him, lashes fluttering as the warmth relaxes your muscles, melting against his.

And something inside him twists.

Because this? This is how it should be.

You, malleable, dependent. His hands tending to your every need, his sharp eyes ensuring that no harm ever comes to you. Because really, who else would take care of you like this?

Your breath hitches when his fingers scrape lightly against your scalp, and his ears twitch—because that sound? That tiny little noise? It makes something hot curl in his stomach.

Ridiculous.

He focuses on rinsing your hair, tilting your head back under the water, watching as the suds slip down your neck, across your collarbone—

His jaw tightens.

His grip on the back of your neck tightens ever so slightly.

And then, he snaps.

His lips crash onto yours, pressing against the softness with a feverish desperation he doesn’t even realize is there. His sharp canines nip at your bottom lip—just enough to sting. Just enough to mark.

He tells himself he’s trying to be gentle.

Trying not to devour you whole.

And then—

You smile into the kiss.

Your drunken, stupid self melts against him so easily, so sweetly, lips parting just enough to encourage him.

It’s intoxicating. Overwhelming.

And then you break away—blinking up at him with those hazy, innocent eyes, a dopey little smile curling on your lips.

"Are we dating now?"

A giggle. Light, teasing, unaware of the storm you’ve just unleashed inside him.

His ears flick back, pupils dilating.

His heart pounds too hard.

Are you mocking him?

Or are you being serious?

It doesn’t matter.

Because either way—

There’s no turning back now.

His arms tighten around you in an instant, his fingers sinking into your thighs, lifting you, wrapping your legs around his waist with ease.

Your back presses against the cool tile, but the temperature means nothing when he’s burning for you.

"Tch," he mutters against your lips, his voice gruff, sharp—as if he’s annoyed. As if you’re the problem here. "You’re seriously such a pain."

And yet—

He’s the one kissing you like he’s starved.

His lips crash onto yours again, more fevered, more desperate, dragging down to your jaw, your throat, your pulse. His sharp canines scrape against your skin, teasing, testing—not enough to hurt, but just enough to remind you what he could do.

And you?

You whimper.

Your nails dig into his back, your body yielding, surrendering, reacting to him the way he always knew you would.

"See?" he huffs against your neck, his voice husky, slightly breathless. His clawed fingers press into your hips, holding you firmly in place. "You’re so much better when you just listen."

But then—

You gasp softly, your voice small, breathy as your lips brush against his ear.

"I love you."

It’s barely a whisper. Barely coherent.

But it’s enough.

Suguru's whole body stills.

A shudder wracks through him, his mind spiraling, his thoughts consumed—

IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou—

A deep growl rumbles in his chest, his tail swishing against your leg, his lips pressing against your temple, your cheek, your jaw—worshiping.

"Say it again."

It’s not a request.

It’s a demand.

"Say it, angel. You know you mean it."

He wants to hear it. Needs to hear it. Needs to know that you’re his.

His little mate.

His forever.

And if you ever try to take it back? If you ever try to leave?

…Well.

That won’t happen.

He hushes you with soft, lingering kisses, his lips brushing against yours in slow, deliberate strokes of his cock nestled deep inside you.

"It’s too much," you gasp, fingers curling into his shoulders, nails scraping at his skin. Begging as he's splitting you open with each and every thrust.

"You’ll get used to it." Suguru murmurs against your lips as he keeps a steady pace.

His fingers ghost along your jawline, tilting your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You’re mine now." His tail flicks, tickling, brushing against your bare skin, his fox ears twitching as he studies the way you tremble, the way your breath hitches beneath him.

"So you’ll do your best to accommodate me, won’t you? My little mate."

It’s not a question. It’s a command.

Because really—how could you not?

He does so much for you.

He takes care of you. Protects you. Loves you in ways no human ever could.

So you’ll take his knot that's forcing itself, big and hard, into your wet cunt that's causing a stretch you've never felt before. A stinging sensation that's slowly turning addicting as your head lulls against his chest.

You’ll learn to accept him, accept that he's going to take and take until you fully belong to him.

Suguru's clawed fingers press into your hips, drawing blood as he anchors you, as his body melds into yours, melting. His hot, sticky ropes fill your walls, his knot stretching you, keeping you locked against him as he nips your lips drawing a bead of blood.

"I love you," Suguru whispers against your lips, lapping at the blood that pools.

The devious hyena 

Yuki Tsukumo has a very protective streak! Sure, she shared some beliefs with Geto Suguru—though, not nearly as extreme. She just wanted to protect her human. Was that really so bad?

And the best way to protect? Courting!

It was only natural. As a hyena hybrid, her instincts told her to look after the weaker member of her pack—which, in this case, was you, the fragile little human locked away in the apartment with her. You never really left, so that was already a plus. And you were always reading up on how to take care of hybrids, which she found adorable.

Of course, she wanted to help!

She just didn’t quite understand why you didn’t appreciate the way she did it—like now, as she had you pinned beneath her, her hips keeping you in place, one hand holding your wrists above your head while she leaned over you, casually reading aloud from the book you had been studying.

"You need a firm hand with hyena hybrids," she read, her golden eyes flicking down to meet yours, amusement twinkling in them. A slow, smug grin spread across her lips.

She belted a laugh, clearly enjoying herself far more than you were. But hey—this was all part of taking care of you, right?

"Looks like you need to work on that one, babe!"

However, you certainly didn’t seem to appreciate her way of courting. And that was a problem.

She had to get rid of a few… obstacles.

Like your boyfriend.

For someone who never left the house, you sure were awfully social with a weak man like him. A human man. One who clearly couldn’t keep up with a hybrid—especially not her. Yuki was faster, stronger, superior in every way. So why waste your time with someone so fragile? Someone who couldn't even protect you?

She didn’t understand why you didn’t love her present—carefully placed inside a small, elegant box, tied up with a bow. A confession of her undying love. Her mate.

A human heart.

Because don’t you know? Hyenas mate for life.

But instead of swooning, instead of wrapping your arms around her in gratitude, you started crying. Stumbling through your words, voice cracking as you asked, how did you get this?

Yuki only tilted her head, golden eyes glinting with something unreadable.

"You really don’t want to know, babe."

She smiled, watching you tremble, your hands shaking as you covered your mouth. So sensitive.

But hey—you really should fill out that missing persons report for your boyfriend.

She really was trying to be comforting. That’s what a good mate does, right?

Don’t you know? Hyena females are the most aggressive. She’d been holding herself back this whole time—being so patient with you, so gentle in ways that went against her very nature. She could have taken what she wanted long ago, but no, she let you have your space. Let you think you had control.

Even now, she’s being so generous.

Letting you cry into her neck, her legs spread just wide enough to pull you close, keeping you tucked against her as you sniffle and tremble. Her strong arms wrap around you, her fingers lazily stroking your back, firm but oddly soothing.

She’s doing her best.

But comforting isn’t really her thing.

She doesn’t quite get why you’re so upset.

However, she does enjoy licking every single tear off your cheek. Loves the salty taste on her tongue with each lap dragging against your cheek, you haven't ever pushed her face away yet.

Why do your small, delicate hands keep clutching at her, nails digging into her skin like she’s the one who hurt you.

"Shh," she hums, moving to rest her chin atop your head, her voice low, almost mockingly tender. "I’ve got you, baby. You’re okay."

Because you are okay.

She made sure of it.

But as she held you, stroking your back in slow, deliberate motions, shushing your little sniffles against the crook of her neck, she couldn’t ignore the slow, insistent pressure pressing against your side.

Don’t you know?

There’s one more thing about hyena hybrids—especially the female ones.

Her lips curled into a slow grin against your hair, her chest rumbling with something between a laugh and a purr. Her tail flicked lazily behind her, pleased, relaxed. Settled.

"Oh well," she murmured, voice smooth, filled with something teasing—something undeniable. "Guess you don’t have to worry about having a man anymore."

Her fingers traced slow, idle circles against your back, pressing you closer, until you could feel it—firm, unfamiliar, nestled against your hip.

Your breath hitched.

She sighed, golden eyes half-lidded, satisfaction written all over her face. Her grip was firm, reassuring—like she knew there was no need for resistance.

"I can take care of everything, baby."

Because really, what more could you possibly need?

Nature had already decided.

Hyena females were stronger. Larger. More dominant.

Your stomach dropped.

"Don’t worry, baby," she murmured, nuzzling into your hair, her voice sweet, dripping with certainty. "I can do everything he could do—just better."

The realization settled in slow, creeping horror, as if your own brain was trying to shield you from the truth until it was too late.

A memory. A random clip from a nature documentary, resurfacing at the worst possible moment.

"Female hybrids use a pseudopenis to mount other females and males to assert dominance."

Your pulse quickened.

Yuki only chuckled, sensing the way your body stiffened in her hold, her grip tightening just a little.

She might not even bite you.

"Don’t worry," she cooed, amusement dancing in her golden eyes. "You’ll be well taken care of."

Not the first time, at least.

*********

Things I want to add but can't find a way to incorporate.

Suguru likes to carry a squirt bottle around the apartment and sprays you with it when you irk him. He does get cuteness aggression, so he will bite your cheek while you're studying/working. More of a house husband and does a good job, however, he likes to coddle and baby you. Breeding kink, however, doesn't want kids unless hybrids get more rights. Does lean more into DDLG except you didn't know about it until the sparkly pink rules list was posted on the fridge.

Satoru likes to make you food but it's usually awful, so instead he does a lot of the household chores. Absolutely hates the cheap underwear packs, so those are the only panties he hasn't ripped holes into. Whines when you wear clothes to bed, loves to stick his tongue deep into your cunt when you're sleeping to ensure you're nice and sore the next day to not even think of being with another man/hyrbid. Very, very clingy on errand runs. Loves to hold your hand.

Yuki makes you so broke that way you can't leave the house, her gym membership is insane and she only eats meat. Doesn't let you wear underwear around the house. If you're doing something she just picks you up and takes you to the couch or bed with her despite protests.

[dalazzx]

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Warnings. PuppyHybrid!Satoru x FemBunny Hybrid!reader, smut, dumb pup Satoru, size difference, dubcon, humping, crying, lots of cum, somnophilia ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Puppy!Satoru doesn’t get that he can’t just have you whenever he wants, it confuses him immensely when you lock yourself in Suguru’s bedroom to get away from him.

You try your hardest to avoid Satoru whenever necessary because of how eager he is, you can’t keep up with him. Relaxing means nothing to him when he constantly wants to be in your face saying and doing the most, it’s frustrating having to put up with him because Suguru thinks you’ll bond with him.

Puppy!Satoru just loves you too much, he wants you in ways that are indescribable, he loves his cute bunny so much.

The only time he can really have you pliant and not aggressive is when you’re sleep, that’s when he really takes it to another level.

Puppy Toru grinds his cock against you when you’re sleeping so peacefully, if he can’t have you while you’re awake then he’ll have you this way. He carefully wraps his arms around you and plops himself agaisnt your ass, his little cock snuggly fitting ontop of your delicious panty-clad ass, he humps you slowly, nice and sensually to build himself up a little.

When you do start stirring awake, he’ll slowly lull you back to sleep by rubbing your fluffy ears just like Suguru does. His bunny looks so cute whining but then falling back into your sleepy state.

Satoru slips your panties to the side, your dripping cunt so shiny within his blue orbs.

He pulls his cocklet out till his pants sit below his heavy strained balls, they need to be released very soon or he feels like he’ll explode where he sits. He glides against your fat pussy as slow as he can as to not wake you again, he can’t have his fun ruined so early and definitely not before he cums.

His breaths are coming out uneven and shaky, his whole body feels uneasy.

He uses two hands to spread your cunt, peering into your tiny soaked hole, ready to be used for hours on end.

It’s about a good hour in and Satoru is soaked in his own sweat, his clammy body and cum covered cock still hasn’t let up, he fucks your poor cunt like his life depends on it, it definitely feels that way. His balls, no matter how many times he cums still aren’t emptied.

A sleepy you is finally stirring awake, you feel pain for a few moments before total bliss blinds your body, Satoru tries to still for a moment to let you fall back asleep but finds his hips won’t stop meeting your ass, he can’t stop plunging himself deep inside of you, pulling out and doing it all over again.

You let Satoru fuck your little bunny-cunt so many times after you awake, you let him cum inside you; a large goopy wet mess by the end of it. Even if you are crying you can’t will yourself to tell him to stop because you feel so damn good. You’ll let him fuck an entire litter into you!

[its-luna-noel]

puppy chronicles

01. the broken puppy | gojo x reader

The JJK men are gifted a hybrid puppy. ...wait, that kind of puppy? alpha!human!jjk men x omega!hybrid!reader

warnings: 18+, MDNI, f!reader, hybrid!au, omegaverse, hybrid!reader, omega!reader, clan leader!gojo, pet play, collars/leashes, previous abuse, smut, masturbation, heat/rut, knots, oral (f! receiving), mating press

word count: 7.4k next: the obedient puppy | geto x reader

masterlist | link to ao3

notes: hi there, i couldn't get the idea out of my head so here it is, this is my first a/b/o fic so i hope you enjoy! this one is more exposition-heavy than i plan for the following ones. next up is geto:)

When Satoru Gojo finally takes his seat as clan leader, there’s a line of people eager to pay their respects, to shower him in praise, to give him gifts.

He wants to send them all home; he has enough money to never need a single thing any of them give him, but he sits and smiles and accepts every gift, even from elders who grimace at him and wish he never inherited the techniques he did.

He can’t help but feel a little smug as they turn their back and leave.

It’s clear that many visitors are simply there to try and earn his approval, to get on his good side before he finally makes all the changes he’s dreamed of since he was a teenager, since he saw the injustices of the system they’ve created.

He can’t wait to raze it to the ground.

The procession continues for what feels like hours, until finally, the last visitor approaches his seat, an old woman hunched in her age. She shuffles towards Satoru, and he lets out a silent sigh. She’s one of the original elders, one of the traditionalists that he can’t wait to take down. He’s sure she’s convinced he shouldn’t even be clan leader, despite his power, simply because of his outlook.

Oh, well. Her opinions change very little for him.

She bows before him in a sign of deference. “A gift, for you,” she says, and he almost sighs again, because he doesn’t want whatever she has for him, whatever ceremonial robes or old book of rules or whatever bullshit she’s here to give him.

Instead of handing over a dusty tome or a delicate box, she turns to the side and beckons over one of the bystanders.

Satoru turns to look, still expecting some traditional gift that only a corpse would hand over. But his throat constricts, and his eyes widen, and he’s staring at the young man who approaches.

The man’s hand is clenched, and around his fist is wound a black leather leash, which is pulled taut to keep its captive at heel. The clip of the leash is linked to a matching black leather collar, a silver o-ring pressed into the soft throat of its wearer. And then, startling blue eyes catch on bare skin, and there you are, head bowed and hair curtained around your face as you crawl on all fours towards his seat.

Satoru fights to swallow. He doesn’t know whether to feel disgusted or…aroused. “What is this?” he asks.

The old woman smiles, like the situation isn’t anything strange. “A hybrid puppy,” she says, “for your entertainment.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows again; his cock bobs as it twitches in his pants. “This is inhumane,” he replies, staring at you, and he tries to pretend that he’s looking at you with concern instead of with rapt attention.

The woman just continues to smile. “Sir, it’s tradition. Take this gift and enjoy.”

And then the leash is placed into Satoru’s waiting hand, and he holds the leather limply as the surrounding crowd bleeds out of the building.

Leaving the two of you alone.

Satoru’s six eyes are all focused on you, examining every part of you, every part of your beautiful body. You’re wearing nothing but the leather collar and a black leather harness, a strappy thing with small silver o-rings at each juncture. From beneath your hair poke two fluffy puppy ears, swiveled backwards in submission, and at the end of your spine is a matching fluffy tail, long beautiful fur obviously well-groomed. Your eyes are on the floor, your hair still obscuring your face, but you sit obediently on your heels, waiting for his command.

You don’t even tug on the leash once.

Satoru swallows again, because his mouth is so dry at the sight of you and all your bare skin, the smooth expanse of your body only broken by erotic black leather, your nipples hard in the slight chill of the quiet room.

His hand tightens around the leash.

He has to take a deep breath, to look away for a moment to gather himself because jesus christ you’re his in every meaning of the word, and the alpha inside him can’t get over that need to touch that body of yours offered so obediently to him. But the rational part of his mind, the human part, recognizes how vulnerable you are right now, how small and helpless you look at the foot of his seat. So he takes another deep breath and finally speaks, finally addresses the hybrid puppy at his feet.

“Are…are you okay?”

The question surprises you; no one’s ever asked you that. You don’t raise your eyes from the floor as you nod.

He’s silent for another moment. Then he speaks again. “Let’s…let’s get you dressed.”

He stands from his seat, and for a moment he’s towering over you, seeing how small and fucking delicious you look at his feet, and he again has to bite back an overwhelming desire to kneel behind you and bite all over you, marking you as his. But he holds back, and he takes yet another deep breath. “Come on…you can stand.”

You freeze at the words; you’ve never been encouraged to stand, to bring yourself up out of your submissive position in order to stand at the same level as those around you. You’ve always been treated like a pet, a puppy, something cute to pet and something sexy to use. And so, in your shock, you finally raise your eyes from the floor, and you look up at him, checking to make sure he really means it.

And then you meet pretty blue eyes, startling in their depth, their brightness, and you’re lost in them for a moment as you wait for confirmation.

He offers a gentle smile, but it wavers like he’s in pain. “It’s alright,” he softly encourages, nodding down to you. “You can stand.”

So you push yourself off the cold floor, stumbling on wobbling legs as you rise to your feet, and he steps forward to catch you, hands catching yours to steady you. “It’s alright,” he says again, but he doesn’t meet your eyes, and you think maybe it’s because he thinks you’re a disgusting hybrid, a little freak, but it’s actually because he’s torn between pitying you and wanting to slam you down onto the floor and fuck you right there, his cock already starting to strain against his pants because he can feel your heat, can feel how soft your hands are, can only imagine how good they’d feel elsewhere– He shakes the thought away.

His large, warm hand rests between your shoulder blades as he leads you out of the audience room of his family home, which now belongs all to him.

He leads you down hallways, through the labyrinth of the Gojo family grounds, across the property until you’re finally following him into his bedroom. A flash of apprehension and even fear spikes into your chest, but you try to swallow it because this is your purpose, this is your calling, to be an obedient little puppy for Satoru Gojo, to follow every order and be the good girl you know you can be. And so once you’re at the bed, you turn to look at him, turn to see if he’s expecting you to go back onto your knees and worship him as the clan leader he is.

Instead he smiles softly, moving to gently pet your hair and your fluffy puppy ears. But when he raises his hand towards your face, you flinch back, averting your eyes towards the ground. And he has to fight to swallow, because he knows puppies only react like that when they’ve been hit before, and a burning fury wells in his chest at the injustice of it all. Who could possibly hurt such a pretty, precious girl? He drops his hand, leaving you untouched, and repeats in a quiet voice, “Let’s get you dressed.”

He has to help you out of the harness, the strappy leather full of confusing buckles and rings. But his practiced fingers make short work of it, and he’s sliding the fabric away, tossing it onto the floor for him to take care of later. Then he moves his deft hands to the collar on your throat, and you flinch once more, like you’re afraid of the power he has when holding you there.

He doesn’t tug, or tighten, or hurt you. He just unbuckles the leather and steps back, holding the collar and leash in his hand as he watches you.

You stare up at him, eyes wide and confused. It’s been a long, long time since you’ve been without a collar, and your throat feels strangely bare without it. Almost unconsciously, you raise your hand to touch your bare skin, fingertips stroking over the cartilage of your trachea…

You’re not sure if he’s giving you freedom or if he’s showing you that you aren’t worthy of his collar. The thought makes your stomach clench, and all of a sudden, tears are welling in your eyes, and your tail tucks between your legs because you can’t bear to think about what will happen to you if you cry right now, but you can’t help it, how have you already lost your collar, you haven’t done anything bad have you–?

Satoru sees your reaction, and his eyes widen, and he drops the collar on the mattress like he doesn’t even care about what that piece of leather symbolizes, and it just makes you cry harder, until sobs shake your shoulders and big, fat tears cascade down soft, round cheeks.

His hands come up to cup those cheeks, thumbs brushing tears away, though they’re quickly replaced with more. You avert your eyes, your fluffy ears pinned down in distress and apprehension, and even though he’s touching you so gently, you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to raise his hand against you for being an emotional little wreck; you’re supposed to be a fun toy, an amusement park attraction, something to gaze at and play with, not something to watch bawl your little eyes out.

Satoru’s not angry; he’s just starting to panic.

“Sweet girl,” he says, and his voice is so soft and gentle when he speaks, his thumbs still stroking your cheeks, “I just want you to be comfortable. Do you want your collar back? Would that make you happier?”

You whimper, not wanting to say yes, because you shouldn��t have to ask for a collar; he should want to give it to you, should want you to wear his ownership proudly.

His heart nearly breaks at your expression, at how big and watery your puppy eyes look, and he just gently shushes you again, leaning a little closer as his fingers continue to just gently brush over your skin. “It’s okay. I want to get you something you like, alright? Something that fits you better, something that’s ours alone. Is that okay, pretty girl?”

You nod a little, still looking miserable, but the idea of getting a new collar, one that he picks out, one that’s more personal to what he wants from you, soothes a bit of your heartache. You reach up and wipe your tears with the back of your hand, and Satoru can’t help but smile at the endearing motion. One of his hands trails to your chin, giving a gentle squeeze between his thumb and forefinger.

“It’s alright,” he comforts you again, taking a slow step back to give you some room to breathe. You almost don’t want him to; you want him to be close, want him to touch you, want him to grab you, to treat you like a thing to be played with, an object to be thrown around and pinned down and taken–

He doesn’t. And his gentle hands almost burn on your arms, almost ache on your skin, because you don’t understand why he’s doing this. What’s in it for him?

Satoru notices your apprehension, how timid you seem while you wait for him to finally snap and show you how much of an animal he can be, too.

But he doesn’t seem angry with you, nor derisive, nor aggressive; instead he still seems endlessly caring as he hands you clothes from his own wardrobe. He turns back to you, trying not to look at your naked body, at the smooth expanses of skin now unbroken by the leather you’d been strapped into when you arrived. And instead of dressing you like your previous handlers would’ve, he gives you back your autonomy and lets you dress yourself.

The gesture probably means little to him, but for you it’s monumental.

He lets you get dressed, his eyes respectfully averted (even though he’s already seen everything, through the strappy harness you were wearing), and while his gaze is on the opposite wall, you take the opportunity to examine him. He’s handsome, that much you can admit, and seemingly much kinder than the previous handlers you’ve had. He let you stand, let you dress yourself, let you get out of that flimsy outfit you were strapped into before you met him. And you almost want to thank him, but you know better than to speak out of turn, so you just get dressed in what he gave you, warm sweatpants and a big t-shirt that hangs off your shoulders. When you’re done, he clears his throat and returns his gaze to you.

God, you look so adorable in his clothes.

His eyes are soft as he watches you stand there, shoulders stooped in submission, like you’re waiting to be kicked while you’re down. An ache worms its way into his chest, because he doesn’t know how anyone could treat a pretty puppy like you with such an unforgiving hand.

A pretty, obedient, broken little puppy.

But he, even if he can’t admit it to himself, can’t resist saving something broken.

He tilts his head curiously, and he can’t help but ask, “Can you…um, sorry if this is, uh, rude, but… can you speak?”

You nod.

The corners of his lips twitch in a hint of a smile. “Can you say something, then?”

You hesitate, and then in a soft voice, almost like you’re afraid it’s a trap, you ask, “What do you want me to say?”

His smile grows a little when he hears your voice, quiet and timid. “Anything. Whatever you want.”

And so you think for a moment, because you’re so rarely allowed to speak your mind, to say whatever you want, and really at this moment there’s only one thing you want to say. Your fluffy tail swishes nervously from side to side, and you avert your gaze as you whisper, “Thank you.”

His eyes soften once more, and his voice is just as quiet when he asks, “For what?”

You just shrug, eyes on the floor. It’s clear you’re done speaking now, so he decides not to push. Instead he leads you down the hall to the guest bedroom and swings the door open, revealing a plush bed stacked with half a dozen pillows and several blankets.

You can’t help it; your tail wags a little at the sight. You’ve never had your own bed.

Satoru watches your tail swish from side to side, smiling softly. Then he gently tells you, “This room is yours, as long as you want it. Get some rest, alright? I’ll come find you in the morning. Feel free to go down to the kitchen if you get hungry, or come find me if you need anything.” Somehow, he’s pretty sure you won’t be leaving the room for the night, too shy to ask for anything even if you needed it.

So he leaves you with one last smile, and he returns to his room, and his door isn’t even latched all the way before he shoves down his pants and drags out his aching cock, one hand steadying himself against the bedroom door and his teeth digging into his lower lip as his thumb brushes the aching, blushing tip, smearing precum along the slit as he fucks dry into his hand.

He closes his eyes, biting his lip even harder to hold in the whimpers because he can’t get the image of you in that black leather harness out of his mind, the way your tits bounced with every step, your perky nipples hard in the cool air of the estate. How you looked on a leash, at his feet with your perfect fucking pussy on full display for his perverted fucking eyes– Fuck–!

His hips cant forward, stuttering as he squeezes the base of his dick, and he can’t believe he’s touching himself over the thought of your pretty mouth, the way they looked when you spoke, when you thanked him. He wants to give you something to thank him about.

He wants to heal you, wants you to speak, to smile, to laugh. Wants to see that tail wagging again, this time so fast back and forth because you can’t contain your joy.

He wants to save you.

And so, with shoulders heaving and a pathetic little moan stuck in his throat, he cums in his hand, imagining that it was your tight little hole he emptied himself into.

Then, feeling ashamed for the way he objectified you the way you were clearly so afraid of, he cleans up and goes to bed, determined to make it up to you, even if you had no clue what he did behind closed doors.

~

The next morning, when Satoru knocks on the guest room door and pokes his head in, you’re already up, sitting on the bed with perky ears and a wagging tail.

He smiles a little; you look much better than you did last night, with a soft light in your eyes. It looks like sleeping in your own bed and not being subservient for one night lit a bit of a fire under you, and you look like the happy little puppy that you should be. “Hey,” he greets softly, leaning against the doorframe. “Can I come in?”

You nod, tail wagging softly against the sheets. You watch him come into the bedroom, his steps light and quiet, and you can tell he’s trying not to scare you, trying not to force you back into your timid unease from last night. He sits gingerly on the end of the bed, watching you the entire time to make sure he’s not making you uncomfortable by being this close.

You’re not uncomfortable. Your tail wags a little faster, and his smile widens.

“I had my assistant cancel all my meetings today,” he tells you. “We’re gonna go shopping, alright? Get you some things, like toiletries and clothes. Okay?”

You nod, and tilt your head a little to the side. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to speak your mind.

Your voice is still soft and tentative when you speak, like you’re still scared he’ll raise a hand against you if you do. The thought makes his stomach ache. “A…collar?” you ask, and your ears go back nervously, like you’re ashamed to ask for what you want so dearly.

He smiles and nods. “Yeah, I’ll get you a collar, sweet girl. Something we both like.”

So he takes you shopping around town, letting you get anything you like, willing to get anything you ask for. You’re still so soft and timid, but he can pick up on how your eyes catch on a dress you like, on how those eyes widen when you see beautiful jewelry, on how those eyes close when you smell various high end perfumes.

He gets you anything you like, and he can’t help but enjoy spoiling his new puppy.

As you walk along streets and peruse different shops, he glances over at you, unsure if he should ask what he’s been wondering. But he figures if you react poorly he can just make sure you spoil you that much more, so he clears his throat and says, “So…tell me about yourself.”

You glance over, fingers trailing the soft fabric of a sweater you found. “Like what?”

“Anything. Where are you from?”

“The city.”

“What’s your family like?”

You shrug a little, turning your back on the sweater when you see the price tag. Satoru just picks it up anyway and drapes it over his arm. “I don’t really know. I was born and raised in a puppy mill.”

That pulls him up short. A puppy mill? “What?”

You just shrug again, keeping your eyes averted. “It’s pretty common for hybrids these days. Everyone’s trying to make money selling us. Usually they’re bought young, but some of us, like me, are kept past 18 to be trained as collector items.”

That makes him sick to his stomach. “Collector items? That’s…that’s awful, sweet girl.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” He’s frowning at you, watching you navigate the small shop, unsure of how you’re responding to this so casually. “I’m sure they didn’t treat you well there, did they?”

Your voice is quiet. “I guess not.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“They have to train us somehow.”

Satoru can’t decide if he wants to break something or throw up. “Sweet girl, that’s not how it’s supposed to be. You know that, don’t you?”

You just shrug once more, and he’s not sure how to convince you that you should be treated well. Besides just doing it himself.

So that’s what he decides to do.

He can spoil you, and pet you, and give you treats and do anything else your little puppy heart desires, and that’s what he promises to himself. To give you the care, the respect, the adoration you rightly deserve.

Then, finally, he lets you pick a new collar, this one soft and pink, much daintier than the black leather that once adorned your throat. He holds it up, glancing between the accessory and your soft neck, imagining how it will look on you and making sure he likes the mental image. Then he nods, smiles down at you, and pays for that, too.

You’re practically buried in shopping bags when you arrive back at the estate.

Satoru helps you put away your things in the guest bedroom, which he now guesses belongs to you. He hangs up your new clothes in the closet, turning away as you push his sweatpants down over your hips, getting changed into a new outfit that he bought you.

Somehow, that makes him feel just as possessive as seeing you in his clothes.

Then, finally, when you’re dressed and comfortable, he reaches into the final bag to grab your new pretty, pink collar with gentle hands, his long, pale fingers wrapping around the leather. Then he steps in front of you once more, his hands brushing aside your hair in order to bare your throat for him, and you stand perfectly still, accepting your collar.

He gently buckles the collar around your neck, the o-ring resting against your throat once again. The coolness of the metal and the soft touch of leather is almost comforting, sending a shiver up your spine. His fingers gently stroke the rings of cartilage on the column of your trachea, and your lips part a little at the touch, your chin tilting up to give him more room. You watch his eyes, waiting to see if he’s going to grab you and force you against the wall, to take you like you know a strong alpha like him can–

But he doesn’t. He just slowly pulls away and offers another soft smile. “It looks great on you,” he tells you.

And now, seeing the collar that he chose, that he bought, he knows you’re fully his. And that is a responsibility in and of itself, a responsibility to help you heal from whatever it is you’ve been through.

~

The next several days pass without incident, and you slowly get more and more comfortable at the Gojo estate.

You walk around without a leash, your collar still pressed into your throat, on your own two feet, slowly coming out of your subservient nature to become a happy little puppy. Satoru can’t help but smile as he watches you move around his space, around his home. Your tail wags whenever you see him, betraying your excitement, and he can’t help but be endeared by the emotive gesture.

It’s not until your first heat that Satoru starts to struggle.

You’d been on heat suppressants until you came to the estate, and Satoru honestly just forgot that it was important to get you back on hormones if he wanted to respect you and your timid boundaries.

The moment your scent breaks, cloying and sweet, so fucking delicious, he almost throws the dinner table out of the way to get to you and scent you. But instead he just looks up in surprise, and you’re already a blushing, stuttering mess as you scramble from your seat, ears pinned back anxiously. You haven’t had a heat in years, and you’re not sure how to deal with one at this new home, given to this handsome, kind alpha who has taken such good care of you since you were gifted to him.

Despite how hard he’s fighting it, you can see the hunger in his eyes.

His pupils are fully dilated, blown so wide his beautiful blue eyes are just a rim of sapphire around black. He grits his teeth, knuckles turning white as he clenches his fists, hoping his nails digging into his palms will keep him together long enough to get you comfortable and then run like hell to get away from your sugary sweet scent.

His voice is strained when he speaks. “Go on back to your room, okay? I’ll have my assistant bring you some blankets and cushions, and you can get comfortable.” He doesn’t even mention what he wants so desperately to say, that if you start aching, if you need someone, just call his name and he’ll come running to soothe the pain. He assumes you don’t want it.

When he doesn’t offer, you just nod and back away a step, tail hanging low. He must think you’re some disgusting animal, to not want to let out his alpha instincts on you. Must think you’re a freak to not want to bury himself inside you, to give you his knot for your first heat in years.

You don’t let him see your disappointment, your hurt.

You go back to your room, and you’re whimpering into your pillow with how hot and wet you feel, your heat coming back with a vengeance after being on hormones for so long. You bury yourself under the blankets, curling up to ease that cramping ache deep in your core, that need for the alpha that’s only a few hundred feet away.

The alpha who’s fucking his hand – again – right there at the kitchen table because your scent is still in his nose, wrapped around him as he pants and groans, his fist slamming down against the wooden table so hard the legs creak and moan.

His assistant brings you a pile of blankets, pillows, and cushions, getting you ready for nesting. You use your teeth and paws to make a nest, spinning around in circles and tamping down the base of your nest before using cushions and blankets to set up little walls, creating a cozy, dark environment for you to ride out your heat.

Satoru slowly comes back down, going to wash up in the bathroom before he approaches your room. He feels better now, having worked out his aching frustration into his fist, and he wants to check on you to see how you’re doing.

He knocks on the door, steeling himself before swinging it open and poking his head in. He sees your nest, a pile of cushions and blankets all organized in your own way, and he can’t help but smile at the sight, so fucking endeared by how good you are, what a beautiful little puppy you are. “Hey,” he greets, and every time he breathes he can smell you, smell how sweet you are.

Your head pops up out of your nest, and his heart aches at the adorable sight. He can hear your tail wagging against the cushions. “Hi,” you say, and your voice is so soft and quiet, so sweet, that he has to fight not to just push his way in and hold you, because he knows if he crosses that line everything else will just fall away, and it’ll be far to easy to come in and take what he wants, what he thinks you both need.

He steps into the room, movements slow and cautious, not wanting to scare you in your vulnerable position. “How are you doing?”

Your tail is still wagging, moving even faster as he walks a little closer. How are you doing? You’re desperate, you want him, you want to touch him, you want him to use you like the puppy you were supposed to be. Your collar feels nice and comfortable, and you want him to clip a leash onto it and tug and pull, to force you to heel while you take his knot like a good girl.

You don’t say any of that. Instead you say, “Okay. It hurts.”

He makes a soft sound of sympathy, moving a little closer. “I know it does. Do you want some company in there?”

You perk up, and you nod a little, moving away from the entrance to your little nest you made, blankets and cushions arranged in a nice little fort with enough room for both of you. You’re curled up in a corner, and he slowly crawls in, closing his eyes against the swirl of sweet scent that hits him once he’s in your nest.

It’s been so long since you’ve been in heat that you’re unused to how good he smells, how his musk fills your nose and you lean closer, snuffling like a true little puppy as you crawl closer, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, nudging your nose against his scent glands at the base of his neck.

He chuckles quietly, his hands gentle as they rest on your waist, itching to pull you in and wrap you up. He fights the urge. “You like scenting me, huh?”

You nod, still sniffing at his glands, and the scent seems to calm you down a little. You curl up against his side, and you gently lap your tongue against the junction between his neck and shoulder.

He sucks in a sharp breath, body stiffening. “Sweet girl,” he says, voice tight. “Don’t do that.”

You pull back immediately, looking chastised. “M’sorry,” you say.

He looks down at you, examining your shy expression, how your eyes are still looking at that spot on his neck. Your tail is no longer wagging. “It’s alright,” he quietly replies, “but…you shouldn’t do that to just any alpha you come across. It’s very…intimate.”

You tilt your head a little. “You’re not just any alpha; you’re you.”

The statement floods him with equal measures of affection and possessiveness. He has to hold back a groan. “Sweet girl, I’m a patient man, but you can’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” You sound stung.

His words come out in almost a growl. “Because I won’t be able to control myself.”

You whimper, and he thinks he’s scared you, but then you lean in a little closer. He can smell your scent even stronger now, and he almost groans, his fingers digging into your waist. “Stop controlling yourself. I’m a good puppy, I promise.”

He grows again. “I don’t doubt that. But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please.”

And so, because you’re begging, because he wants to spoil you, because he can’t deny you a goddamn thing, he grabs you, pulling you close. You gasp softly, hands coming to press against his chest as your big eyes gaze up at him. “Tell me you want this, sweet girl.”

You whisper, “I want this, Mr. Gojo.”

He grips you tighter. “Don’t you dare call me that,” he says, tugging your body against his. “When you moan my name, you better call me Satoru.”

And then he grips your hair in one hand and crushes his lips against yours.

You let out a relieved moan, the sound humming against his mouth. You let him carry the lead, let his lips part yours and his tongue brush into the wet heat of your mouth. His lips on yours starts to soothe the pain, the deep ache, but it makes a fire deep inside you burn hot. Your body curves into his, your fingers tentative as they curl into the hair at the back of his head.

He tastes so fucking good.

He pushes you back against the pillows and cushions, pinning you beneath his slim body. His mouth continues to move against yours for several long moments, until he starts to kiss down your neck, towards where the collar sits. You arch your back, curving your body further into his mouth. Your eyes flutter closed, and all you can do is feel as he brushes his tongue against your throbbing pulse.

Then he inches his way lower, and he nips at the collar, tugging on it playfully before pulling back to look at you, a small smile on his kiss-swollen lips.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs to you, bumping his nose affectionately against yours. “My perfect little puppy.”

He can hear your tail wagging as he dips closer once more.

He presses a line of kisses down your shoulder, over the top of your chest, nipping at your collarbones lightly, not even hard enough to leave a temporary mark. He’d love nothing more than to mark you up, to leave soft loving hickeys on your skin, but he also can’t stand the thought of leaving bruises on your soft little body when you’ve been through so much.

He won’t do it; not this first time.

His hands move to the hem of your sweater, one of the soft things he bought for you on your first little outing together. He pushes up the fabric to your ribs, fingertips brushing against the soft, smooth skin. You shiver, and he can’t hold back another smile at the feeling of you quivering under his hands. He pulls back enough to examine the look in your eyes, taking in the nervous expression there, how your ears are swiveling anxiously as he touches you so softly, something you’re still not used to.

“You okay?”

You nod, gazing back at him, chest rising and falling a little more rapidly with his hands on you.

“Can I keep going?”

“Oh, yes,” you whisper, and if you weren’t so self-conscious, you’d be begging.

He grins down at you, watching your pretty lashes flutter before diving back down, kissing the exposed flesh of your chest as he pulls your sweater up over your head and tosses it aside. His hands slide up your sides, tugging your body up into a pretty little arch so he can kiss down your torso. His tongue flicks over your nipple, and you whimper quietly when he starts to gently suck.

At the beautiful sounds you’re making, he’s grinding his hips into the soft cushions, searching for stimulation on his already sensitive cock.

He continues kissing down your body, until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. He kisses along the line of fabric, kissing the soft skin just above it, until he uses his teeth to slowly, teasingly pull down the metal zipper. His blue eyes gaze up at you through white lashes, his lips curled into another small smile when your hips rise from your nest. He grips your plush hips, kneading the flesh before pulling down the denim fabric. Then his mouth is back on you, pressing kisses to your thighs, arms wrapping around your limbs and holding you in place while he swipes his long, burning tongue over the thin fabric of your underwear.

God, you’re already dripping.

He groans, lashes fluttering as his eyes fall closed at the sweet, decadent taste of your slick. He moves somehow closer, making out with your cunt through the fabric, drenching it with his spit as he continues to grind against the cushions.

“You taste so fucking good,” he growls into your pussy, lapping at the syrupy taste. “Goddamn.”

You whimper again, hips grinding against his face with a desperation like you haven’t been touched in years, and he wonders if maybe that’s true. That just makes him want to try even harder to make this fucking amazing for you.

He tugs your panties down your legs, lips following his hands until the fabric is removed and you’re left entirely bare beneath him, looking like the prettiest dessert he’s ever seen.

So he leans in, because he’s never been able to resist something sweet, and swipes his tongue over the length of your cunt.

He groans again, the vibrations making something deep in your belly flutter. You taste so sweet that it nearly aches, and he just buries his face deeper between your legs, eating you out sloppily, spit and drool drenching whatever inches of your skin weren’t already soaked with your own arousal.

He can feel the desperation inside him growing.

His tongue lightly brushes your swollen clit, and that small amount of contact is enough to make your hips jump in his hands. He grins, wrapping his lips around you and sucking lightly, tongue still flicking gently. As he does, his fingers come up and spread your lower lips before his long, dexterous middle finger pushes inside your body, curling against your spongy walls.

You let out a soft cry; he just wants you to make those noises again and again. So he starts rubbing your clit with his tongue with fervor as he adds another finger, diving deep inside, earning another moan or whine with every thrust of his hand. His fingers curl again, hitting that spot that makes your back arch so beautifully.

It’s not long before he’s practically drenched to the wrist in your slick.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his tongue still lapping at your clit, “you’re so wet. You ever had someone do this for you, huh? Ever been touched like this?”

You shake your head rapidly from side to side, and he can’t fight the satisfied smile that curves his lips when he sucks your clit into his mouth. The idea that he’s the first one to touch you like this, the first one to bring you this pleasure, especially during your heat, sends a possessive spike through his chest.

He can feel you getting closer with every stroke of his fingers, with every brush of his tongue. You’re tightening around him like a vice, and so he whispers sweet encouragements between your thighs, “Come on, pretty girl… Let go for me… 

You’re fighting it; you don’t want this to end.

You’re whimpering, eyes rolling back, and he just smiles up at you, his free hand gently squeezing your thigh, trying to encourage you to relax. “Come on,” he says again, fingers stroking your g-spot to bring you over the edge, and he watches the muscles in your thighs finally relax before you’re coming, hard, in his mouth.

He moans loudly, licking you through it, his hips grinding against the cushions once more, because fuck, he can’t take it anymore, can’t wait to be inside you.

Once you’ve gone boneless beneath him, chest heaving up and down as you try to catch your breath, he leans up on his knees, pulling off his own shirt and revealing his muscular torso, looking so delicious you want to lean in and lick him clean.

Then he unbuckles his belt, pushing his pants down his strong thighs, revealing the straining bulge in his tight boxer briefs.

And then you watch as he pushes those down, too, revealing his pretty pink cock to your virgin eyes, and you’re practically drooling at the sight.

He puts his hands under your thighs, hauling your legs up and over his shoulders until he’s got you bent nearly in half underneath him. You whimper at the angle he’s got you at, and he takes his weeping dick in his hand and lightly slaps your clit with the glistening head, once, twice. Your body jolts with every smack, and he smiles down at you before aligning himself with your slick entrance. He pushes his hips forward, slowly sliding inside your drenched pussy. Your mouth drops open at the insane stretch of him, of how fucking massive he feels, like he’s stuffing you full as he takes his time splitting you open.

Once he’s fully seated inside you, he pauses for a moment, both of you breathing heavily.

“You alright?” he asks, his voice only slightly strained with pleasure. You feel so warm and tight around him, your walls fluttering with every breath, and he’s not sure how long he can last with how fucking good you feel.

You nod, looking up at him through your lashes, swollen lips pouted out with every huff of breath. “Please,” you whine quietly, hips shifting under his, “need you.”

And so he starts to move, dragging his aching cock nearly all the way out of you before slowly pushing back in, and your eyes roll back into your head at how full you feel. You’re pretty sure you can feel him all the way up into your mouth at this point, with how far he seems to be buried inside you, and then he pulls out back before repeating the motion, over and over again, fucking you slow and affectionately into the cushions.

You hope every heat is like this.

Your lips are parted, and you’re drooling at how perfect this feels, saliva dripping out of the corner of your mouth, and he leans in, crushing your own thighs against your chest. His tongue runs along the corner of your mouth, licking up your own drool, and then he pushes his tongue back into your mouth, feeding you back your own saliva mixed with his.

It’s filthy, it’s delicious, it’s divine.

His tongue swirls with yours, and you’re hardly even kissing at this point, it’s just the two of you tasting each other. 

And as you taste, as he continues to fuck you gently, you feel the desperate stretch of his knot, the swelling base of his cock.

On instinct, you nearly go feral for it.

“Please,” you whimper into his mouth, and when he pulls away a little to ask what you want, you just reach down and grab his hips, holding him close as he continues to gently rock into you. “Please please please…”

Your nails dig into his slim, muscular hips, and he grunts at the slight pain, at the tiny crescent marks you leave on him. He growls in your ear, leaning down to nip at your neck, right above your pretty new collar. “Yeah? You want my knot, huh, pretty girl? Want me to give you a puppy?”

You whimper again, louder this time, higher in your register, because all you can do is shudder under the weight of your instincts to take his knot, to take his puppies. You nod so desperately that your hair flutters around your face, getting stuck in the wet spit at the corners of your mouth. His eyes flash and he leans in again, his lips finding the source of your sugary sweet scent. Then he parts his lips and sinks his canines into your scent glands, pupils blown wide, running purely on instinct as he bites. You cry out, and you’re not even sure if it’s in pleasure or pain or some delicious combination of the two. And your heart thumps with vigor at how much affection you’re nearly drowning in as he mates with you.

And as he bites, he cums, filling you with his seed, burying so deep that he empties himself right against your cervix. And he sinks his knot all the way into you, stretching you all the way open, plugging your quivering pussy until he’s sure his seed will take.

And while you both come down from the high, he kisses along your cheeks and nose and forehead and jaw, making sure you know you’re worthy of being adored. That you are worthy of being saved.

Of being loved.

thanks for reading! -luna xx link to ao3 | next: the obedient puppy

[ink-stainedkiss]

Cat!Gojo who is not shy when showing his affection. It’s very clear that he is comfortable around you, so comfortable to the point he is always hovering just behind you. Getting ready in the morning? Gojo is standing there with his arms around your hips, watching intently as you do your makeup. Making breakfast? Of course he’s rummaging through your refrigerator, tossing items your way for you to cook. Your bedtime routine has just become how long can you do your skincare before Gojo comes in whining and ultimately drags you away.

Cat!Gojo who makes it his mission to always have your attention. If he’s around, you shall do no such thing that doesn’t involve him. “Accidentally” his fluffy tail knocks the book in your hands right onto the floor. Your cup of coffee on the counter somehow gets in his way of his hands and you have to drop everything to save the glass. Though, if you confront him about his annoying behavior, he’ll stare up at you with those blue eyes and you have no choice but to let it go.

Cat!Gojo who lovesss taking naps. No matter where, he can and will be passed out on your furniture. When you come home from work, you open the door to see your furry pet sprawled out on your couch, some of his limbs hanging off. The second he gets a hint of scent in the air, he is perking up and rising from his space. He always has to greet you.

“I’m home,” You call out into your apartment, the area seemingly dead. That is until you hear a vague creaking from your bed and slow steps walking through the hall. There, a tired Gojo meets you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and trudging over to you. Snickering at his drowsiness, you raise a brow at the hybrid,” Have a good nap?”

He raises his arms, nodding to your question and letting out a long whine as he stretches. Gojo’s tails flicks slowly as he gets closer and by the way his eyes are already fluttering to a close, you can tell what’s going to happen. You open your mouth to tell the feline to wait, but his body is already toppling over yours. A small laugh escapes your mouth and you blindly scoot toward the couch, hoping not to topple over.

Finally you crash onto the couch, grunting as Gojo drops with you,”You’re kinda crushing me here.” But to no avail, he doesn’t move, instead wrapping his arms around you and snuggling closer. You can only giggle in disbelief. Like the night before, your hand finds its way to his messy head of snowy strands. Gojo is already blacked out but you feel his chest rumble in a soft purr.

Cat!Gojo wouldn’t admit it, but is a bit protective of you. It isn’t typical of you to have people over, but on the rare occasion, you found that Gojo wasn’t exactly pleased with one of your friends. He’s often nice with a lot of your company, not having any trouble, but you weren’t sure why he was acting so off.

You invited Kenzo, one of your coworkers, over to have a few drinks. He was usually the person you shit-talked with about any trouble at work and it would be nice to just chat. However, the second you let him into your apartment, giving him a welcoming hug, you felt sharp eyes glaring into your back. Turning, you found none other than Gojo, who looks as grumpy as ever. You were confused since he already had dinner and just a couple of minutes ago he was perfectly fine.

Brushing it off, you went into the kitchen as Kenzo got comfy on your sofa. He smiled at Gojo,”Is he nice?” You hummed as you grabbed a bottle of wine,”Mhm! Just be warned, he may get too comfortable-“ Kenzo reached his hand out toward the hybrid, but an enraged hiss sounded from Gojo and he swatted at his hand. Gasping, you were about to scold the feline, but he was already existing off of the couch and over your way.

You glanced toward your friend, who just sat there facing the tv with a sad expression. The culprit strolled over to the counter, hopping up onto it and watching you intently. Whether he was blatantly ignoring your harsh look or not, you still whispered to him,”What got into you?” He shrugged calmly, clearly seeing no wrong in his actions.

“C’mon, I want to watch that show you’ve been talking about non-stop,” Kenzo called from the living room. You poured the drink into your glass and stared at Gojo, noting how he grimaced at your friend’s voice. For whatever reason, Gojo did not like Kenzo, and it was obvious he wasn’t going to warm up to him. You sighed, catching the hybrid's attention. Reaching up, you held his cheek,” It’ll just be a few hours, then he’ll be gone.”

Slowly caressing his skin, Gojo leaned in, purring softly at your touch,”Promise you will behave yourself?” There was a sliver of hesitation, but Gojo nodded slowly. He didn’t want to agree, but he also didn’t want you to be sad, so he settled with laying in your lap as you spoke to the nuisance of a friend. Whenever Kenzo would speak, Gojo would drown out his voice, only listening when you had something to stay.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Surelyyyy a Gojo x Filipino reader because we gotta love the Filipinos man, they're cool

Omg ofc!!! I have been meaning to write for jjk for some time and now i have a chance to do so :) If you haven't gotten to know who we are don't be shy here is our "༺☆༻ Introduction ༺☆༻"

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

Starlit Confessions

Word Count: 755

Warnings: None

Gojo x Filipino!Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The night sky over Tokyo was a canvas of inky blackness, dotted with stars that shimmered like distant promises. You walked alongside Gojo Satoru, the city’s heartbeat a soft drum in the background, its rhythm syncing with your own. The air was cool, carrying the whispers of the night as you both made your way to an old bridge that spanned the quiet river below.

Gojo walked ahead, his steps sure and silent, a contrast to the vibrant life he usually exuded. You followed a few paces behind, watching his figure cut a solitary silhouette against the city lights. The bridge was an old structure, its stones holding the memories of countless souls who had crossed it before.

He stopped midway, his gaze fixed on the water’s surface, reflecting the night sky. You caught up, standing beside him, the silence between you as profound as the depth of the river. The stars above were bright, witnesses to the moment that was about to unfold.

Gojo turned to face you, his eyes capturing the starlight, making them appear even bluer. He paused, a breath taken, held, and then released before he finally spoke. The words that came were ones that had been held back for too long, ones that would bridge the gap between friendship and something more.

“You knew. You knew I loved you and took full advantage of the fact that I’d do anything for you. And I knew that. I just kept at it hoping that one day you’d value me just as much,” he said, his voice a soft echo in the quiet of the night.

The confession hung in the air, a truth laid bare under the watchful eyes of the stars. It was a moment of vulnerability for Gojo, the unshakeable, the untouchable, now reaching out for something far more elusive than any curse he had ever faced.

"I feel stupid. Why do you make me grin like a spineless fool whenever I am around you?" Gojo said, turning to look at you.

You looked away from him, pausing for a moment as memories flashed through your mind. Nights spent together, the lingering touches that left you wanting more, the oblivious way he interacted with you, those moments when he insisted you stay after a night out. Your lips quirked into a semblance of a smile.

"You think I don't notice how you look at me?" you finally said, your voice trembling. "How your eyes linger just a second too long, how you always find some excuse to touch me, even if it's just a brush of our shoulders?"

Gojo's eyes widened slightly, but he remained silent, letting you continue.

"I've been afraid," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid that if I acknowledged it, everything would change. Afraid that I'd lose you if I didn't feel the same way."

Gojo took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your arm. "And now?" he asked, his voice soft but intense.

"And now, I realize that I've been the one taking you for granted," you confessed, tears welling up in your eyes. "I've been so scared of losing you that I never thought about what I was missing out on."

Gojo's expression softened, his hand moving from your arm to gently cup your cheek. "You won't lose me," he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. "I'm right here."

The moment hung between you, charged with emotion. The distant sounds of the city faded into the background, leaving only the two of you and the silent witness of the night sky.

You took a deep breath, your hands trembling as you placed them on your waist. "Are you sure about this?" you asked, voice shaky but resolute.

Gojo's eyes never wavered as he stepped closer, his presence warm and reassuring. "More sure than I’ve ever been," he said, his tone unwavering as he gently grasped your chin.

Your heart raced as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative, simple peck. The kiss was tender, filled with uncertainty and unspoken words. When he pulled back, your eyes met, the world around you shrinking to just the two of you.

"That was..." you began, struggling to find the words.

"Yeah," Gojo finished, his voice barely above a whisper. A certain song played in the background, the melody of Paramore's "All I Wanted" blending with the magic of the moment, sealing it as your song.

"Sorry, that was my first kiss," you confessed, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you looked down.

"I could tell," Gojo said, a playful glint in his eyes.

Your head snapped up, surprise written all over your face, but before you could say anything, he blurted out, "I'm kidding!" and started laughing.

His laughter was infectious, and despite the awkwardness, you found yourself joining in.

[artmill-danaan]

[chososcutie]

could you write something where fem!reader is a horny lil pup please 🙏

#HE WANT A BREAK, I’VE BEEN RIDIN’ HIS FACE SIX HOURS!

synopsis: the jjk men as hybrids.

featuring: gojo, toji, nanami, sukuna, & geto

tags: oral (fem!recieving), unprotected sex, big dicks, overstimulation, spitting, degrading, dry humping, riding, premature ejaculation, squirting, dacryphilia, praise, dirty talk, dumbification

a/n: hiii luv, thank you for the req!! this inspired me, and you didn't specify which jjk man you wanted, so i decided to experiment with all of them and how they'd deal with a horny puppy hybrid gf!! hope u like!!

SATORU GOJO ── SNOW LEOPARD

leopard!satoru who whenever you're feeling hot n' heavy, is grinning impishly, unable to help teasing you as he manspreads, his thick muscly thighs bunching while his tail flicks languorously back and forth, watching with slitted eyes how your mouth waters, scenting out your dripping cunt easily.

"what's wrong baby?" he'll innocently tilt his head, noticing your frustration as he eyes the way your thighs rub together desperately, licking his lips in anticipation for your next move.

"i... i need you 'toru." you breathe out, puppy eyes wide and desperate, your panting turning fervent.

leopard!satoru who knows what's coming by the way your little tail is wagging eagerly and the smell of your arousal only grows thicker, straddling his big lap in one graceful movement.

you gaze up at him, rounded doe eyes locked on his as you coax him through it, freeing his pretty cock from his pants, and beginning to bounce on him, riding with a feral need as you cover his face in puppy licks.

he'll whine and whimper shamelessly, throwing his head back as your hips never falter, pleasure thrumming through him and tipping him closer n' closer to the edge.

leopard!satoru who cries when he cums, small hiccuping sobs with tears streaming down his face, you eagerly lapping them up while hushing and praising him for "being such a good boy".

his veiny girth will only seem to swell at your words, growing bigger n' thicker inside you, and prodding all your sensitive spots easily, your high quickly approaching as you arch your back and moan loudly at the obscene, squelching between your legs, and how dirty it all feels.

in fact, when you go into your puppy heat, it's almost impossible to get you to stop once you've become intimate, your libido heightened and pussy always pulsing and needy for more, so as a result, you and satoru always end up going at it for hours on end.

leopard!satoru who you're on the verge of overstimulating, big glassy tears pricking in his azure eyes while being on his umpteenth orgasm.

"b-baby.. hah.. s-slow down, y'er so eager, fuck!"

underneath you, your powerful hybrid with his rippling spotted coat and lashing tail was rendered nothing but a whining squirmy mess, his jaw slacken with pools 'n pools of hot drool pouring out as his sharp fangs gleam, ears perked up and whiskers twitching to signify his oncoming orgasm.

leopard!satoru whose ears are incredibly sensitive, and as you tug on them, stroking the fur softly, can only whimper before he's cumming, and cumming hard, gushing sticky white ribbons n' ribbons of cum deep into your stomach, filling you endlessly while his big chest heaves up and down, purring in content.

TOJI FUSHIGURO ── WOLF

wolf!toji who is so big and buff, with his broad chest and rippling pectorals, that when you're ovulating on your puppy cycle, you truly cannot resist him, clambering and pressing yourself against him with small whines.

"now now, pup.." his deep, baritone rumble sounds as his big palms roughly cup your tits, causing you to mewl with need. "what's the magic word?"

“pleasee..” you beg, shuddering as he begins to lay you down, sharp claws digging into your wrists as you writhe eagerly, trying to push your desperate hips upward.

he growls at your squirming, leaning forward to bite at your neck, before laving his thick, wet tongue over the mark, fluffy cheek tickling you.

and finally, you feel his girthy cock, veins thumping erratically and thickened, smearing tip tapping on your entrance, his smug smirk plastered to his face as he observes how your eyes roll back at the simple gesture.

“open.” he demands, and you obey, watching as he leans over you, letting a warm glob of spit drop into your mouth, and distracting you as in one motion, he buries himself inside you to the hilt.

you squeal, and he clamps a hand over your mouth, shushing you while beginning to rock his hips back n’ forth and back n’ forth.

his hips are absolutely killer, as he brutally plows into you, marking every inch of you as his, your hands desperately digging into anything you can reach while he has your ankles up to your ears, folding you in such a nasty mating press.

his reddened mushroomy tip repeatedly bumps your g-spot, coiling your stomach tighter and tighter until you’re panting as the smack! of his hips into skin echoes.

in fact, his monstrous wolf hybrid cock is so big, so swollen, that with every harsh thrust, it gives you a stomach bulge, the obscene outline of his veiny shaft and feel of his hefty balls slapping your ass making you cum, screaming his name as you cream all over his cock.

he only relents after he’s ravished you in every position, and made you cum on his fingers, his mouth, and most importantly, his cock, satiating your little puppy needs.. for now.

KENTO NANAMI ── BEAR

bear!nanami can smell when you're going into a heat, so he practically knows it before you do.

"awh, is m'pretty girl horny?" he'll coo, laying you down on your back while his big fuzzy snout comes to sniff curiously between your legs, tickling you as you squeal.

he noses apart your thighs, big beefy arms holding you pinned in place to the bed as he slooowly starts to lap his wet, long muscle against the dampness of your panties, small round ears twitching with excitement at the small moans you let out.

bear!nanami is hefty and a bit chubby with a soft belly but still very muscular. when he lays on top of you, you can barely breathe but instead of fear overtaking you, you seem to like it, snuggling up as close as possible to your warm hybrid and licking anywhere you can reach in gratitude.

but now, it was his turn to make you nice and cozy, and satisfy the aching need you felt when you were on your cycle.

"lemme taste you.." he mumbles, squishing your knees up to your plump breasts as he pulls your panties to the side, drooling strings of arousal connecting you together, and fully buries his face deep into your weeping cunt.

you yelp, tail thrashing behind you but no match for bear!nanami's pure size as he determinedly holds you down while eating you out, hot slithery tongue lapping your honeyed juices while the tip of his wet, black nose presses on your clit, stimulating you even more.

huskily, he groans between your thighs pressing his face impossibly deeper as he makes out with your slobbering pussy, gathering every dewy slickened slosh! of essence pouring out with grateful little sighs and mwahs! of his sticky lips against your entrance.

"ken' m’so.. hah.. close.." you keen lowly, whimpering as the coil in your tummy grows tighter n' tighter, threatening to snap with every breath.

"i know, puppy.." he whispers, not stopping in his slurping as one big paw comes to splay out against your tummy. “just hold on f’me for a lil’ bit longer..”

you whimper, your legs closing tight around his head as you shudder, moving your hips until you’re practically dragging your cunt across his face, smearing translucent slick all over him.

bear!nanami who is tracing circles on you with his tongue, licking every drop of your candied essence until you’re whining to cum, begging in a small voice; “ken.. hah.. please please please!”

bear!nanami who murmurs out a “cum baby. allll on my tongue, cum for me,” before adding a single chubbed finger to your greedy pussy, curling deep inside your gummy walls.

and oh, you do, babbling his name like a prayer as your orgasm races through you all at once, soaking his lower chin in your glossy sheen, his resounding groan of approval rumbling through you.

bear!nanami loooves when you're in heat, because it means you'll go for round after round, and he can lap at your little pussy, making you cum for hours.

RYŌMEN SUKUNA ── TIGER

tiger!sukuna is instantly able to tell when you're in a rut, because of the way you're always on top of him pressing your puppy face into his chest and whimpering as you hump his plush belly, while snaking a hand downward to feel his chubbed cock, stroking at it with no particular rhyme or reason.

"tch pup, so pathetic." he'll rumble at you, but still allowing you to continue your desperate attempts to get the two of you off, soft little growls leaving him as your hand tightens or your finger presses particularly hard on his leaking slit, oozing pools of pearlescent precum all down your wrist.

you whine, grinding harder as the heat in your belly increases, slickness pooling in your panties with every passing second.

but just when you're about to relieve your poor, needy pussy, he stops you, pushing you backward roughly while pinning your wrists high above your head.

you protest, yelping softly as you wriggle in his grip, but he simply leers over you, sharp canines glinting as he settles against you.

"aww, calm down you'll get to cum little puppy." he sneers, watching you gulp as he finally frees his massive cock, twitching between his legs, reddish divot smearing gooey white across his striped tummy.

"just lemme have my fun first.."

tiger!sukuna who will spare you no mercy, hips thwacking! into you ferociously while his slacken maw hangs open, spit dribbling into your awaiting mouth.

his cock is heavy between your legs, and hits deep into your walls, bruising your cervix and french kissing your g-spot with every punctuated thrust.

his tail will wrap around you tightly, keeping you in place for him while he repeatedly rams into you, thickened mushroomy head bumping so hard it has you seeing stars, while drool, tears, and cum pool underneath your limp body, as he coaxes you from one orgasm to the next, never faltering as he fills you to the brim with endless spurts of milky white seed, until your tummy is sloshing with it.

tiger!sukuna who when he cums, cums hard and cums long. his orgasms seem to stretch on for minutes, each gushing so much, it overspills out of your poor, stuffed cunt while he curses low, rocking his hips steadily as he rides it out, creamy white pouring out of you as you cling to him with soft whimpers.

he's so rough with you in bed, but you know he'll take care of you later, gently cleaning you up with his tongue before tucking you in cozily to his chest and purring soundly.

SUGURU GETO ── PANTHER

it's a well known fact that panthers have an excellent sense of smell.

and panther!geto, sprawled out and watching you with slitted eyes as his tail flicks back n' forth lazily was no different, keenly aware as your cheeks flush with heat, thighs rubbing together for more friction when you glance over at him every so often.

finally he rumbles out a sultry, "something on your mind, darl'?"

you turn to him, swallowing thickly, sweltering and feverish. "i-i don't know, i feel hot all over an'.."

your breath is short and ragged, and the look you give him is one of pure carnal need.

he smirks slyly in response, flicking his tail over his spread legs, bulge printed clearly through his sweatpants to beckon you closer.

you're panting at this point, unsure how much more teasing you can take, but before you get any closer, he lunges for you, pinning you down with his tail wrapped tightly around your upper thigh, the fur just barely brushing your core.

"legs up." his words are a slow purr, and he watches with amusement as you obey instantly, gasping fervently as you urge him closer to you, pawing at his thick cock.

he simply laughs as you pull out his enormous throbbing member, the tip a darkish red hue and so big you can hardly fit your hand around it.

"want me to fuck you? yeah?" he encourages as he watches your eager head nodding along. "hard and fast? heh.. such a slut."

true to his word however, he pushes your legs up high, slotting himself in between, heavy length resting against your thigh.

he gives himself a few strokes, luscious black hair hanging over your head as you watch impatiently, already trying to squirm and align your hips with his.

"alright, ready?" he exhales while starting to push in slowly, thick inches stretching your tight pussy, even as your walls clamp and suck him in for more.

hiking your legs up higher with his big hands, they're practically by your ears as he starts to mount you, rolling his hips in n' out with precision.

"mmph.. so tighttt baby, you're killing me." he groans when you tug on his hair softly; his sensitive scalp has always been his weakness, and as a result, his thrusts grow sharper, deeper, hitting directly into your cushy sweet spot.

you cry out and moan, nails digging in sharply to his back as he huffs curses into your ear, angling himself juust right to push up against your cervix, rough palm coming down to smack! on your sensitive, puffy clit.

you squeal, and he bites down on your tender, floppy puppy ears, your stomach growing taut, and your release so close you can practically taste it.

"don't cum yet, doll, not 'till i tell you.." he hoarsely moans out, skin meeting skin with echoing thwacks!

you quickly whine in protest, wriggling your hips as you try to hold off and obey him like a good puppy, but knowing with a few more seconds, you weren't going to be able to stop yourself from coming undone.

urgently, you jerk and twist, trying to push him off, but he simply chuckles, thinking you're playing rough.

"stop moving, and take this fucking cock, baby." he whispers out, voice low and breathy as he thrusts his thick inches in you particularly harshly for emphasis, blunt tip ramming so hard into your sweet spot, you're dazed for a second before you realize you're cumming.

your vision turns white and spotty, and your legs twitch weakly beside you as you squirt, absolutely drenching his abdomen and pelvis in your shimmery slick, saturated and pouring out of you in gushes.

he pauses for a second, taken aback as his eyes survey your quivering form.

"oh? did i say you could cum yet?" he chuckles, the sound low and menacing, and your blood runs cold. "let's see if you're still so eager after ten more.."

© 2025 CHOSOSCUTIE. please don't copy or translate any of my works. all rights reserved.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

[sa1ntn3k0]

Snow Leopard Gojo (∩˃o˂∩) ♡ nsfw!

The sun perched high in the sky, its golden rays filtering through pillowy clouds that drifted lazily like overstuffed cotton balls. They played a tiny game of peek-a-boo with the light, casting dappled shadows over Tokyo University’s sprawling campus before leaving, bathing the world again in a warm, buttery glow. You tilted your face upward, savoring the breeze that tousled your hair, a gentle, vanilla-scented kiss from spring. This was your favorite kind of day: bright enough to lift your spirits but soft enough to keep the world from feeling too loud. Perfect for the oversized cardigan you’d thrown over your pastel-yellow mini dress, its airy fabric fluttering around your thighs like sunlight given form.  

Your morning lecture, unfortunately, had been anything but luminous. Your Professor’s monotone voice had dragged through the hours like a knife through cold, stiff butter, dissecting a research paper on quantum physics that might as well have been written in ancient Aramaic. You’d doodled bunnies and cartoon cats in the margins of your notebook, your mind wandering to the cafe you loved, the one with the heart-shaped mugs and the barista who always added a sprinkle of cinnamon to your chai. But getting there meant braving Shibuya’s chaos: the screech of trains, the tsunami of suits and school uniforms flooding the crossing, the neon signs that buzzed like angry wasps. Just thinking about it made your shoulders tense.  

No, today calls for compromise. You’d settle for the sleepy little shop near FamilyMart, even if their tea tasted like water with a dash of sugar. Slinging your tote bag higher onto your shoulder, its pastel patches of Miffy and Hello Kitty clinking gently against your thermos, you stepped onto the sidewalk, your strappy sandals tapping a quiet rhythm against the pavement. The dress you wore hugged your curves sweetly, its buttercup hue mirroring the sun, while your lips glimmered with a gloss that smelled like strawberries. You’d dressed up for no one in particular, really, but there was joy in feeling pretty, even if only the breeze noticed, and unfortunately that perv two seats behind you in class.  

The cafe’s bell jingled as you entered, its air thick with the aroma of stale croissants and bitter espresso. You beelined for the refrigerated case, grabbing a bottled milk tea and a pastry swirled with pink strawberry cream, its flaky layers far too enticing to leave without. Back outside, you claimed a bench beneath a cherry blossom tree, its petals drifting around you like confetti. The first sip of tea was cloying and underwhelming, but the pastry? Too good. The cream burst on your tongue, tart and sugary, and you closed your eyes for a blissful second-  

Rustle.  

Your thick lashes fluttered open. The bush beside the bench shivered, leaves trembling gently. No wind stirred the air. You leaned closer, squinting, as the rustling came again, more insistent now. A tiny, pearlescent paw poked out, followed by a puff of fur so impossibly white it seemed spun from moonlight. Your heart squeezed... A kitten!  

“Hi, baby,” you cooed, crouching low, your dress pooling around you like melted sunshine. The creature crept forward, and- oh.  

This was no ordinary kitten.  

Snow-leopard cubs weren’t exactly part of Tokyo’s urban wildlife, but there he was: a miniature king of the mountains, his fur a tapestry of charcoal rosettes and ivory silk. His paws were comically oversized, velvety pads as pink as bubblegum, and his tail, thick and banded with shadow, swished with mischief. But it was his eyes that stole your breath: twin pools of Arctic cerulean, glowing with an almost otherworldly intelligence. They locked onto yours, unblinking, as he toddled closer, his little nose twitching at your pastry.  

“Hungry, huh?” you giggled, breaking off a crumb. He lunged, a blur of fur and enthusiasm, snatching the treat from your fingers with a tiny mrowp! “Hey!” you gasped, but the scolding died in your throat as he flopped onto his back, the stolen prize clutched between his paws. His belly was fluffier than a ball of sugary mochi, and when he purred, it sounded like a tiny motorboat.  

“You’re a little thief,” you murmured, scritching the soft fur beneath his chin. His purrs vibrated, and he nuzzled your hand, his pink tongue rasping against your thumb. That’s when you felt it, a slim ribbon of leather around his throat. A collar? You coaxed him onto your lap, heart hammering as you traced the tiny tag.  

Satoru, it read, in curlicue letters.  

A human name for this definitely not-human creature. Your thumb brushed the tag again, half-expecting it to vanish like a dream. But Satoru merely chirruped, batting a paw at your hair, his claws sheathed. He reeked of wet grass and mischief, but also… loneliness? You glanced around. No frantic owners in sight, no posters pleading for a lost cub. Just you, this mysterious little being, and the sudden, unshakable sense that fate had dropped him into your path.  

Finders keepers, right?

“Alright, Satoru,” you sighed, bundling him against your chest. He curled instinctively into the warmth, his nose tucked into the dip in your collarbone. “You’re coming home with me.”  

The train ride was a blur of whispered coos and stealthy cuddles. Satoru slept the entire way, a living, breathing heat pad, his paws kneading your cardigan into a doughy mess. By the time you reached your apartment, he’d claimed you as his personal pillow, his purrs vibrating through your ribs. You deposited him gently on your bed, a nest of floral quilts and plushies, and watched, smitten, as he stretched, his tiny claws catching the sunlight.  

“Mama’s gonna kill me if she finds you,” you whispered, smoothing a thumb between his ears. He blinked up at you, those galaxy-blue eyes crinkling with what could only be… smugness?  

No, that was silly. 

The Great Bath Incident™ began, as most disasters do, with way too much optimism.  

Two days. Two days of Satoru’s reign of terror had left your apartment smelling like grass and dirt. His fur, once as pristine as freshly fallen snow, now resembled a dust mop dragged through a dusty corner of your living room. He’d rolled in something unspeakable during his 3 a.m. zoomies, something that clung to him like a vengeful ghost and made your nose crinkle every time he trotted past.  

“Okay, baby,” you announced, scooping him off the windowsill where he’d been sunbathing like a tiny, furry emperor. “Spa day.”  

Satoru’s ears flattened. His light azure eyes widened into saucers, pupils dilating with betrayal.  

“Mrrrp?”  

“Yes, mrrow,” you said firmly, marching him to the bathroom. “You reek of dirt and tuna.”  

The bath itself was… a spectacle.  

You’d prepared meticulously: hypoallergenic honey-scented shampoo (the fancy kind for “sensitive babies,” according to the label), a stack of baby pink Hello kitty towels warmed in the dryer, and a rubber ducky you’d impulsively bought because look at his face, how could you not? Satoru took one glance at the filled tub, hissed like a deflating balloon, and attempted a gravity-defying backflip out of your arms.  

“Nuh uh! No escaping!” You wrestled him gently into the water, his paws slapping the surface in protest. Bubbles foamed around him as he yowled pitifully, his tail thrashing like a fluffy whip. “You’re fine-it’s warm, see? Warm!”  

He was not convinced.  

Satoru transformed into a soggy gremlin, all claws and drama, splashing enough water to water a small farm. His squeaky protests echoed off the tiles, a bomb of bratty chirps and growls that somehow still sounded way too adorable. You couldn’t help but giggle as he tried (and failed) to scale your Miffy shower curtain, his soapy paws slipping comically.  

“You’re such a baby,” you cooed, scrubbing between his ears. His fur lathered into a marshmallow fluff, revealing the striking black rosettes beneath the grime. “Look how pretty you are! So handsome! Yes, you!”  

He paused mid-squirm, tilting his head at your praise. His whiskers twitched.  

“…Prrt?”  

“Very handsome,” you confirmed, booping his cute little nose. “The handsomest little snow boy in all of Tokyo- hell, the world.”  

Satoru looked way too full of himself, his tantrum momentarily forgotten. He allowed you to rinse him, though not without a few half-hearted swats at the showerhead. By the time you reached for the heated towel, he’d morphed into a docile little loaf, his fur gleaming like spun sugar.  

“All done!” you chirped, turning to grab the towel-  

Sploosh.  

A sound like a wet mop hitting the floor.  

You froze.  

Then came the drip-drip-drip of water, the creak of the tub, and-  

“Ahem.”  

A voice.  

A human voice.  

Deep. Smug. Somehow familiar.  

Your spine went rigid. Slowly, so slowly, you turned.  

There, lounging in your now half-empty tub like a pampered sultan, was a man.  

A naked man.  

A gloriously, infuriatingly beautiful naked man.  

Your brain paused.  

He was all lean muscle and snow-white skin, his physique carved so sharply, it made your cheeks burn up, heart race fast. Damp white hair clung to his forehead, framing a face that belonged on a Renaissance painting, sharp jawline, pink, plush lips quirked in a smirk, his strong neck held a baby blue leather collar, and eyes… Oh.  

Eyes like glacial lakes, bright and bottomless, flecked with starlight. Satoru’s eyes.  

Your gaze darted higher.  

Oh no.  

White ears twitched atop his head, velvety and tipped with ink-black fur. Behind him, a tail as thick as your thigh swayed lazily, its leopard-like rosettes glistening.  

“Hey,” the man purred, resting his chin on the tub’s edge. His voice dripped with mischief. “What’s up?”  

You screamed.  

Not a dignified scream. A full-throttle, horror-movie-worthy screech that rattled your strawberry mint toothpaste tube off the sink.  

“Wh-WHAT?! WHO-HOW-”  

He blinked innocently, tail swishing. “Aw, c’mon, princess. You’ve been calling me ‘handsome’ and ‘baby’ for days. Don’t act shy now.” His voice was all smooth, like honey, but so mischievous-like, you felt way too many emotions.  

Your face combusted. “THAT WAS FOR A CAT!”  

“And yet here I am.” He stretched, water sloshing as he raised his arms above his head, displaying a torso that could’ve been chiseled by Michelangelo. His underarms bore fluffy white hair, the amount of hair only a grown man could have. “Better than a cat, right?”  

You hurled the pink towel at his face.  

He caught it effortlessly, grinning with a flash of faintly pointed canines. “Feisty! I like it.” Wrapping the towel around his hips (thank God), he rose from the tub, droplets cascading down his- Nope. Don’t look. Don’t you dare look. 

You looked.

His lower half was… Wow. His abs were more defined when he stood, a fluff of white hair ran down his belly button, you could see the outline of his hung dick through Hello Kitty’s bow, and you felt blood rush, fast. You wanted to pass out, wake up to your baby, not some hot dude! 

“S-Satoru?!” you squeaked, scrambling backward until your spine hit the door.  

“The one and only!” He winked, flicking a wet ear. “Thanks for the bath, by the way. And the gourmet lamb chops. And the snuggles.” His tail curled playfully. “You’re a way better pillow than my last owner.”  

Your mind reeled. The all-night zoomies. The picky eating. The smugness. It all clicked into place like a cursed jigsaw puzzle.  

“You-you’ve been a human this whole time?!”  

“Hybrid,” he corrected, leaning against the sink with infuriating casualness. “Snow leopard genes, human charm. Cute, right?” He flashed human jazz hands, claws retracted.  

You gaped. “Cute?! You destroyed my Miffy lamp! You jumped on my boobs!”  

“Hey, you’re the one who kept cuddling me while you slept.” He smirked, stepping closer. His tail brushed your ankle, impossibly soft, annoyingly wet. “Not that I minded. You’re really warm, and man, your tits are soft as-”  

Your face flamed. “OUT. Get out of my bathroom! Put on clothes! Explain yourself!”  

Satoru chuckled, low and rumbling-a sound that vibrated straight through your bones. “Don’t got any, smarty pants.”

You lunged for the door handle. He was faster.  

A big, human hand (warm, genuinely huge) pressed the door shut above your head, caging you in. His scent enveloped you, honey shampoo, snowfall, something wild and electric.  

“Relax,” he murmured, leaning down until his nose nearly brushed yours. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Unless…” His gaze dropped to your pillowy lips. “…you want me to.”  His breath was minty, smelling of the kitty toothpaste you rubbed those fangs clean with a few minutes ago.

Your breath hitched. “Wh-”  

Ding-dong!  

The doorbell rang.  

Satoru’s ears pricked. “Expecting someone?”  

Your blood turned to ice.  

“…Mama.”  

His smirk vanished. “Shit.”

End, for now. Hehe.

Whoop! That was fun, I love snow leopard Gojo, he's so… Ugh, need him. Of course, will be continuing, want to lean this into a smutty fic, so stay with me! I'm super busy with my classes but I’ll try to upload asap! Also, I see reader as 18-21, or higher if you think of grad school or whatever. Satoru’s his 29-year-old self!

[xazse]

Ahhhh I loved your reader hybrid works, literal chefs kiss 😩🤌 can you pls pls pls do a bunny! Reader x Suguru and Satoru

You can’t!

Synopsis: Poor Bunnygirl and puppyboySatoru are experiencing the worst heats ever, good thing their owner Suguru is there to take care of them.

Notes: Hi I decided to bring in our Puppy!BoySatoru if you don’t like it just let me know and I’ll revise this entire thing for you!!

Pairings: Puppy!HybridSatoru x Bunny!GirlReader x Suguru

Warnings: Hybrid!Reader + smut + humping + Hybrid!Satoru + drooling + licking + penetration + lots of cum very nasty + Suguru is a good owner + collars

Suguru is exhausted when he read online that getting a hybrid would take a lot of work they weren’t lying especially Bunnygirls and Puppy!Boys.

He thought he would be ready and prepared, it should be a walk in the park! Of course bumps and falls would occur but with someone as patient as Suguru everything will turn out fine.

A year in everything was so fucking perfect, You and Satoru listened so well he really lucked out with the two of you. Most people would complain on online forums that handling was the hardest thing.

The issues started arising when you and Satoru started getting needy, you were kinda independent before but now you both are always on or under Suguru, you both felt the need to always have your hands on him, roaming his body and even touching each other. More issues started to come when it felt like you and him were so feverish and always sore.

A quick google search brought Suguru to the page of hybrid heats. It happens often and can be unpredictable, it’s slapped in his face and he isn’t sure what to do

“Please-Suguru hurts so bad..”

He surely wasn’t expecting to walk into the scene he’s seeing right now, Satoru laid on his back with you atop him, tears are brimming in both your lashes it looks like you two have been crying and whining for the longest time.

You’re in nothing but panties and a thin tank top with him sporting just his underwear. Satoru’s cock is fully hard pressed agains’t your cunt so snugly and he’s already made a mess: his cum seeping through.

It looks like this is what you two have been doing for all this time, just grinding against each other. He feels terrible, he hadn’t taken the time to fully explain what would be happening to your bodies.

He makes his way over to his dumb pets and you both follow so obediently, leaving each others arms to fully envelope in his. Satoru starts licking and sucking on his neck, he isn’t shy to rub his cock so blatantly, smearing his thick load even more.

He needs to teach his hybrids how to pleasure themselves whilst he isn’t here, he stops Satoru from his suckling. He gently has you lay down admiring just how cute you look, your ears are standing at full attention but your hazy eyes aren’t all there.

He pulls off your sticky panties, a clear line of your cum visible when they’re discarded.

He’s met with an even messier sight when admiring your pussy, your folds are glistening as well as his fingers when he teases your little clit.

Suguru positions Satoru in front of your spread legs, he isn’t sure what to do with himself besides following Suguru’s every direction.

Suguru dips his fingers in your cunt again, guiding them to Satoru’s mouth he has him suck them clean.

Satoru absolutely loves the taste of you, he groans so lewdly as he’s lapping up what’s left of your essence.

When he finishes that up Suguru grabs Satoru’s leaky cock with a rough grip and taps it a few times on your soddened clit, this elicits a few moans out of the both of you. It feels so good already, and yet Suguru can’t wait to show you both just how good cumming feels.

He guides Satoru’s hips pushing his sensitive pink tip past your tight entrance.

“Ahh..ngh…”

The whimpering starts, poor puppy Satoru’s brain can’t comprehend this feeling, he knows the pleasure part of his brain is needing more but his body wants to pull away at the same time, he’s scared at how wet and hot it feels. He isn’t telling Suguru to stop so he continues.

His bunny isn’t fairing any better, you’re gripping the pillows for dear life as a fat cock, something foreign pushes inside of you for the first time.

Suguru sets a slow nice pace, hands still on Satoru’s hips guiding him inside of your wet cavern and out again and again. He’s doing all the work but he doesn’t mind one bit.

Suguru pauses working Gojo into you and lets him feel you, for real this time. Your walls are twitching and clamping down on him so hard.

He slides down into the crook of your neck and cries right there, it’s such a sad sight but so arousing at the same time.

“Cmon Toru, gotta make bunny feel good too.”

Satoru listens and begins licking your sensitive neck, he knows that’s a weak spot of yours, always triggering it when he’s roughhousing with you. His hips begin speeding up, the wet sounds of your cum mixing together and being slammed against one another is loud and bounces off the walls.

You cry out loud letting Suguru know that you feel weird, your tummy feels weird and it’s hurting. He reassures you and says to just let it go.

Suguru teases and grabs Satoru’s balls, head diving into his first load of the afternoon, it’s a good bit of cum he produces, Suguru is going to spend a good hour cleaning the both of you up!

[yerchokito]

── .✦ snowleopard!satoru ── .✦

afab!reader

snowleopard!satoru is a clingy thing. rubbing his big head against you with rumbling purrs, or butting his head to your collarbone annoyingly.

snowleopard!satoru has a licking problem. always using his rough tongue on you, covering you in his spit. (yuck)

snowleopard!satoru is always— I mean always getting in trouble. may it be tearing at the good furniture, growling at guests (always men for some reason.) or biting you.

snowleopard!satoru is a biter. biting your ears, your cheeks, arms— you get it. you’ve tried to muzzle him but.. it didn’t go so well. let’s just say you came out with more bite marks than before.

snowleopard!satoru becomes way worse when you ovulate.

[ohimsummer]

puppyboy! satoru loves having his ears scratched.

“how’s that feel, baby?”, you coo at him, smiling at the expression of pure bliss on his face. it’s clear by the nonstop tail wagging and the way he buries his head into your touch that he’s thoroughly enjoying this.

but he whines in response anyway, face scrunching as you tease those sensitive spots at the tips of his ears. he shuffles closer to you on the couch; you have to lean back so he can straddle you like he wants, squeezing your waist and leaning forward to plant a couple of ticklish licks over your neck. satoru’s basically pinning you down right now, though you don’t mind. his clinginess and constant need for skin-to-skin contact is always welcome.

you end up zoning out while scratching his ears, allowing your mind to wander away. satoru can never get enough of this, and one scratch of his ear can become fifteen minutes of him indulging in your affection, groaning and whining as you pamper him.

but soon those groans turn to whimpers, and he grows more fidgety. you don’t pay too much attention, as satoru has always been a restless hybrid. then you hear the curses, him muttering out ‘f–fuck, oh my go–, god—!’ under his breath, and the whimpers grow louder. you don’t realize he’s grinding against your lap until you feel something hard poke at you, but by then it’s too late. it’s a struggle to hold his head in place as he’s pushing so hard against you until…

“… satoru?”

he’s gasping for breath, and his head is heavy in your palms, and his whole body collapses on top of yours. satoru whines at the mention of his name, but he doesn’t move, can’t move after what you just unknowingly put him through.

he just really, really loves those ear scratches.

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