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envy-of-the-apple · 8 months ago

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Monsoon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

10.1k wc

Synopsis: Four years after Toji Fushiguro died, Satoru decided to give his widow a visit

(Warnings: age difference (nothing underaged), dark content, AFAB reader, pregnancy kink, non con, overstimulation, piv sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, rough sex)

It was raining when Gojo Satoru entered your flat.

Not particularly harshly, but more than enough for a scare. You weren't in the mood for visitors; the rain made you drowsy, and it was coincidentally your one day off. You wanted to lean against the window and watch the droplets fall against the pavement with a warm blanket. You did not want to exchange pleasantries with some kid.

The only reason you didn't slam the door in his face was because he said your husband's name.

It was why you were bringing tea to someone who clearly couldn't care less about it as he lounged on the sofa. You sat on the other end, staring at the scuffed coffee table. Out of anxiety, you play with the ring wrapped around your finger.

"...He's dead?"

It's a question, but you already know the answer. Gojo doesn't even bother to reply, humming, taking a sip of the lukewarm liquid. You still stare at the coffee table. It's slightly crooked. One of the legs was broken. Toji promised he'd fix it.

That was four years ago. You hadn't seen him since.

You should have expected this. You knew the kind of man Toji was even before he stuck that flimsy ring on your finger. The kinds of people he hung out with. The suspicious amounts of money he would shower you with. There would have never been a happy end for the two of you.

You can still feel your throat close up, bile rise from your belly. You can't do anything but watch the old table you never threw out because he promised he'd come back and fix it.

The only reason you close your eyes, sucked in a tight breath, was because you still had a guest over. One that clearly wouldn't care about your crocodile tears.

You've never seen someone his age so apathetic before. That temperament was associated with the people of your generation. The people who've already been in the workforce, who carried stress on their backs and hips. You can't see his eyes, but the slouch in his posture is indicative enough. Maybe all kids his age were like this. Uncaring, indifferent, subtly disrespectful.

Because he was a kid. It didn't matter how tall he was, how much bigger than you he was. A single look was all you needed to know that this boy was at least a decade younger than you. Unkept white hair, sunglasses despite the weather, a cocky smile, a voice oozing with misplaced confidence.

You don't acknowledge it; it's clear he didn't come here just to tell you your husband is dead.

"How old's your kid? Eight?" Gojo tilts his head. "You gotta' know what that means, right?"

You do. Even if you weren't steeped into the world your husband willfully left, you know enough. You know how important your son is.

It's why you stop Gojo before he can make his offer. You've already heard this before, a week ago when men with Zenin as their last names knocked on your door.

"Thank you for your concern," you tell him as calmly and respectfully as you can. For the first time, the man straightens up, as if your answer wasn't what he expected. You can sense he isn't used to being told no.

You keep your smile neutral, pleasant, final.

"But we're fine as we are."

Moments later, when he's about to leave, you offer an umbrella, insistent on him taking it. It was raining after all. He takes it with him without any protest.

You don't notice that, despite the downpour, he was perfectly dry when he stepped into your home.

☔︎︎

Megumi was always special.

Every mother thinks that for their child. You're no exception. As soon as he was born, tiny in your arms, swaddled in blankets, something shifted within you. You'd always wanted children, but the concrete feeling of your child in your arms when he's so vulnerable. You'd never felt anything more right.

To you, Megumi was always special. But when Megumi turned 5, he became special to the entire world.

Toji was never tight-lipped about the world he came from. Shamans, sorcerers, shikigami, curses. You weren't an expert, but you certainly knew more than the average person. He'd often tell you things, when he was drunk, pulling you against his bare chest, underneath cheap blankets. You always heard the bitterness in his voice. That world had rejected him. It would reject anyone who wasn't special enough. Special people were rare.

It's why you were convinced Megumi would never have to deal with any of that. His father wasn't a sorcerer, neither were you. He'd live a normal life and would only be special to you.

"It's on your other shoulder."

You switched hands, reaching over to tug on your sleeve. Like always, you couldn't feel anything. There was no weight on your skin, nothing tangible that you could grab and toss. There was just this small feeling of dread. A small ache in your bones.

He waves a tiny hand. Instantly, the feeling of dread is gone. The ache lifts and you roll your shoulders.

"Thank you," you tell him with a strained, but grateful smile. He nods, turning back to his food.

"You're getting more, now," he simply says.

"Haha, sorry," you reply instinctively because even though he's eight, you feel like you've burdened him.

"It's okay," he mutters, quiet as always. His gaze flicks back up at you, before glancing back down. He takes a second to gnaw on his lip.

"Are...are you okay?"

You're being so obvious even your own son could see it.

Your smile feels more forced as you placate him with the usual lie of 'Mommy's just tired, long day at work'. He doesn't buy it, but he doesn't say anything back. He's so much like his father in these moments. Truthfully, you didn't think Megumi got a single thing from you. His black hair is Toji's, his blue eyes are Toji's, his pale skin is Toji's, and even his forever-present scowl is your late husband's. You supposed that should have been the first sign: Megumi would be anything but normal.

You hadn't told him about the visits. You're his parent, you had justified to yourself. He's a child. He doesn't need to know about the visits. Especially, considering you decided for him. Megumi would be raised out of the jujutsu world, away from curses, and sorcerers.

You can't have your son taken away from you like his father was.

('Special Grade', Gojo had told you. A powerful cursed spirit. You hadn't gotten closure until you let him in. No body was ever recovered.)

You can't let your son end up like that.

But was this the right life for him? You watch as Megumi's gaze trails up, like he's tracing the movement of a fly or something bigger that you would never see.

You can't relate to Megumi. You don't have cursed energy. You can't see the things he can. As much as you loved him, you'd never be able to understand what he is. None of his classmates can. None of his teachers. It sounds lonely. Isolating.

Only a handful of people that could ever give Megumi that connection exist. And they're willing to accept him with open arms.

He had been an older man, flanked by another. They eyed your home with relative disgust; you, with mild derision. It'd been their words that echo in your head today. How much happier Megumi would be surrounded by his own kind. How the clan would welcome him and teach him to hone his technique.

They were words that would sate the parent of a lonely boy, but you couldn't help but remember the disregard in his voice. Their words made Megumi sound like a tool, instead of a child.

The offer of payment for your son was enough to turn them away.

Was Gojo Satoru any better? From your brief encounter, you couldn't tell. There was always a smile on his lips whenever he talked about Megumi's future and Jujutsu Tech. The lilt of his voice felt fake, artificial. But at least he didn't ask to outright buy your son.

When Megumi's tucked into bed, you pace around the living room. You glance at the slip of paper he'd left behind. The scrawl of numbers in neat handwriting. The thing he slipped into your unsuspecting hand. You've had a glass of wine before, maybe that's why your hands are a little more steady when you punch in the numbers.

He picks up after the second ring. It oddly feels like he was waiting for your call.

"Can jujutsu sorcerers live normal lives?"

There's a laugh on the other end. Light. Amused.

"No," his response is cold, even when his tone isn't, "Even if they leave the jujutsu world, they will never have normal lives."

The answer you were afraid of, but you weren't surprised. Special people rarely live normal lives. You knew what this meant: trying to protect Megumi from his father's fate would be pointless. No matter how far you run, no matter how far you take him, it will never be enough.

"Does it really matter, then?" you ask, "who Megumi goes with."

"In that sense, no, not really," his voice crackles back, "But I think you've already made your decision."

You had days ago. You were just wasting time, picking up the phone only to drop it just as quickly. As much as you'd wanted to keep your son away from the jujutsu world, you knew, even before they knocked on your door, it was a failed endeavor. Megumi was special. Megumi was too special for you to hide. He shone too brightly.

The Zenin clan would extinguish that. You knew it. Toji knew it too. It's why he took on your name.

It's silent again. You bite your lip. You've been doing that a lot lately.

"Gojo, may I ask a favor?" He gives a hum.

"Please, don't tell him about Toji."

There's a beat of silence. The line clicks.

Two days later, Megumi meets the strongest sorcerer of the modern era.

☔︎

There was always something clinical about Megumi's and Gojo's relationship.

You wouldn't call them father-son, let alone brotherly. It was strictly student and teacher. From the start, it was clear Megumi wasn't impressed with the sorcerer. His scowl would somehow get deeper whenever the young man was around.

Gojo didn't seem all that impressed either. He wasn't as blatant, but you could sense that it was a chore for him, rather than anything else. You don't think you can blame him. He's barely twenty. He should be doing other things. Living his youth, and continuing his education.

Gojo grew up too fast. You can see it in his face. He's never not smiling, but it's never truly sincere. It's not clinical either. It looks exhausted. You wonder-if he wasn't wearing those glasses all the time-if you'd see dark circles.

He's too young to be running around this much. He's too young to carry the entire world of jujutsu sorcery on his back. He's too young to be an educator. A mentor.

Yet he is. Yet he does. All with a smile on his face.

You're less intense nowadays to him. When Megumi comes home, clearly a bit more roughed up than when he left, you criticize Gojo less harshly. When you make lunch for Megumi, you ask if he'd like anything as well. Gojo has a bigger sweet tooth than your eight-year-old son does. You never nag him for it.

The change doesn't fully happen until that fateful conversation. It's an offhanded remark he makes about him not being there to train Megumi for a few weeks because of a mission.

"A curse?" you ask, as if they aren't all around you.

Gojo grins because you've discovered he likes talking. "Reports are coming down from Sendai. The running bet currently is special grade."

You frown. "Oh. Well, be careful."

He freezes at that. You think he's staring at you, but you're not too sure. His glasses give away nothing. Your fingers dance with nerves. Had you said something wrong?

"What?"

You tilt your head. "Oh! Uh, 'be careful'. Stay safe." You end your sentence awkwardly.

Eventually, Gojo recovers. "Yeah. Well, obviously." He smiles.

You watch him leave, keeping your eye on him until he disappears into the sleek black car.

It doesn't occur to you until much later that Gojo probably hasn't had someone worry about him before.

☔︎︎

Whenever Megumi's training continues much later in the evenings, you go to the Gojo estate to pick him up yourself.

It's a grand house. Practically a mansion. You've never felt so embarrassed about your humble apartment until you saw the lavishness Satoru lived in. A part of you is now even more impressed by Megumi's stubbornness. Children are the first to fall for the affluent.

It's big, but you've never quite gotten over how empty it looks. Every time you visit, there's always just Satoru. You haven't seen his mom, his dad, any siblings. It looks like a family home, but he's the only one who's ever there.

He's never mentioned any family. You wonder what happened to them. Where they are now.

Somedays, you arrive a bit earlier than needed. During that time, you tend to stroll through the gardens. They're so beautiful. Large and expansive. They're empty, however, just like that grand house. No flowers. Not even weeds. It's just a bunch of dirt and stones, plainly stacked on top of each other. It disappoints you a bit. The grounds had so much potential.

"Whatcha' got for me this time?" You jump, whirling around. Satoru is right behind you, a teasing grin on his face.

You give him a disapproving look, though it lacks any real heat. "I told you to stop doing that."

"Doing what?" Though he may be twenty, he acts like he's younger than your son. Speaking of your child:

"Where's Megumi?" You prod, glancing behind Satoru, as though your grumpy child would pop up behind him. No such thing happens. Satoru's incriminating smile grows wider.

"Homework," he cryptically replies, "also, he didn't want to disturb us adults having our grown-up conversations."

"Of course he did," is all you say, but you acquiesce regardless, digging through your bag.

You've always been taught to bring something when visiting another person's home. You found it rude not to, despite how casual Satoru acts around you. You discovered he liked sweets the most, so you have tried your best to satisfy his sweet tooth. He seems happy with whatever you give him. One thing you like about Satoru is how he cherishes all the gifts he's received from you without any complaint. You spotted the umbrella you'd given him all those weeks ago, sitting right by the door. He'd never given it back. You'd never asked for it.

You try to ignore the feeling that the only reason he gets excited about your gifts is that it's rare for him to receive anything at all. Satoru doesn't need to be pitied.

It's nothing too big, just a bag of saltwater taffy from an Americanized store. He's already ripping the package open, pulling one out of the wrapper to stick it in his mouth.

You blink when he extends his hand, another piece of candy between his fingers.

"Say 'ah'!"

"Oh no, I'm fine. They're for you—" Satoru interrupts you by popping the piece right in your mouth. Your lips instinctively close.

"Oh." You say after you taste the sweet. "Peppermint."

He laughs, taking another one out for himself. You follow him through the abandoned gardens.

"So, how's Megumi's-"

"Nuh-uh," Satoru immediately stops you, "enough about work. Let's talk about something else!"

You roll your eyes, but your smile is too affectionate. You ask him about his latest trip overseas. He tells you about the country he visited, the curse he exorcised, practically giddy from excitement. Conversation starts there before moving onto other things, small talk, your job.

"It's a shame the gardens are so empty," you say when the conversation reaches a lull.

He stares at the bare patches of dirt with you. "When I was younger, the gardeners would take care of 'em for us. Flowers would bloom every spring."

You feel him recoil. Satoru does that sometimes. Say something too intimate, hissing when it's too late to take them back. For his sake, you don't comment on it.

"It must have looked beautiful." Is all you respond. Understanding, but closed enough to give him relief.

You stand there in silence for a couple of seconds. In the dirt, you can see a tiny ant carrying a grain of sand.

"Roleplay time!" Satoru suddenly exclaims. You whirl your head to look at him. "Imagine you become the great Gojo Satoru." You stifle a laugh at that. His grin only gets wider. "What kind of flowers would you choose?"

Toji always thought bouquets were stupid. 'There's no point' he'd always say 'the weeds will just die anyway, why you somethin' like that?'. But sometimes, he'd bring home these tiny, golden flowers. Simple. Pretty. He'd tuck it behind your ear, grinning at his work. You'd kiss him in return.

"Marigolds," you say at last.

Satoru only hums in response. A few seconds later, he's leading you out of the garden, rambling about how expensive sushi was overseas.

A few days later, you see men with barrels of soil, combing through the garden.

A week after, tiny golden flowers start poking through the dirt. Simple. Pretty.

☔︎︎

You had that same dream again. The day Toji left.

It's rare to have these dreams. They wouldn't leave you alone the first year he'd disappeared. Back when you thought he'd gotten bored of you and your son, like he'd finally decided he was sick of the family life.

They come back sporadically, nowadays. You can't sleep after you have them, so you often find yourself curled up in the living room, looking at the window. It was raining. Heavy droplets thud on the glass. The violence seems desperate somehow. Like the weather is begging to be let in, to snuggle underneath the warm blankets too.

On nights like this, it's a habit to stare at the tiny golden band on your finger. You slip it off, holding it in your palm. It's nothing extravagant—tiny with a simple design—but it's the last thing you have of him. Toji was never that sentimental.

It's not really a dream. Dreams are more whimsical, cloudy. You can remember everything, down to the outfit he'd been wearing, the fly that had been buzzing around your door. It was like you were there all over again, begging him not to go.

"You promised you'd stop."

"This is different," Toji said and you flinched when he tucks away his gun. You thought he'd gotten rid of it.

"The money?" You're pressing, "we have enough money, you-"

"This isn't about fuckin' cash," his voice cuts through you, sharper than any blade he carried.

"It's somethin' else. Somethin' you wouldn't understand. It goes beyond money."

Your gaze lowers, curling your fists on the table. You can't understand, not when he refuses to tell you. Not when he barely explains why he's going back to his old ways in the first place.

Sensing he's upset you, Toji sighs. You can hear him place something down on the dining table, metallic and clanky. Calloused, rough fingers brush your cheek, your jaw, coaxing you to look at him. You don't, forcing him to lean forward, giving a chaste kiss on your cheek. His lips are rough, cracked, but overwhelmingly gentle on your skin.

"I love you," Toji mutters into your skin.

You don't respond. You wish you had, you wish you'd gotten over your pride and told him because maybe then he'd still be here with you. He's giving another sigh, tucking your hair into place before he's leaving. He closes the door behind him.

That day, you told yourself you wouldn't forgive him. Whenever he came back, you'd tell him you were done. You'd take Megumi and you'd leave.

Now, you think you would have forgiven him. Eventually. It would have taken a while, a lot more than measly flowers and apologies. But, if he had come back, you would have let him back into your heart.

"Couldn't sleep?" you ask.

Megumi blinks his eyes. It's past his bedtime, but you aren't going to nag him for it. You place the cup of steaming tea down on the coffee table, clicking your tongue when it wobbles. Right, four years later and you still hadn't fixed it,

"The rain was too loud." He gives.

Wordlessly, you invite him into the cocoon you'd nestled yourself into. The sofa sinks under his weight as he settles next to you, leaning against your side. You tuck the warm blanket around his tiny body. He's still small enough to fully wrap your arm around him, bringing him even closer. You take advantage of it. You don't know how much time you have until he's too big to cuddle with anymore.

His breaths are even and slow. He's a boy of few words, but even you think he's asleep until he's mumbling something into your ear.

"I hate him."

You give a confused hum, leaning down, resting your head on top of his. The coffee table looks even more uneven at this angle. It burns to even look at, these days.

"He makes you cry, even when he's not around anymore."

You laugh at that. It's a quiet huff. When you glance down, you think you spot a faint smile on the boy's lips. He’s so much like his fathers, in the little things. You don’t think you will ever tell Megumi that. You don’t think he’ll take that observation well.

"I wasn't crying.” You tell him. “I was just thinking.”

He doesn't give a response after that. A few minutes later when you look down again, his eyes are closed, and he's drooling against your shoulder. You laugh again before gently gathering your son in your arms and settling him down to bed.

The next day, you notice the monstrous amount of duct tape wrapped around the leg of the coffee table. When you ask Megumi about it, he just shrugs, his ears twinging a bright red.

You throw the coffee table away. It's replaced by a new one the following week.

☔︎︎

Satoru didn't like talking about Toji.

You only tried prying once or twice. He was tight-lipped about it. Not quite cold, but he'd shut the conversation down quickly, more than eager to talk about something else. You missed it the first few times, but it became clear that Satoru disdained even the mention of your late husband. You can't tell if it's whether Satoru admired Toji enough that the mere mention of his name sends him into grief, or if it's something a lot more complicated.

Now that you think of it, you barely even knew the relationship Gojo had with Toji. Had they been close? Was he just an acquaintance? Satoru had always been so cryptic about it.

Toji hadn't.

"He's called the strongest man?" you ask, amusement twinged in your voice, "I thought he was 12."

"They don't care about age when giving titles," Toji replied.

You were leaning onto his shoulder, watching your son sleep in his crib. Only three months old and he had this permanent frown on his face, as if he was already sick of the world. 'He already acts like you' you once told your husband. He'd scoffed, but he didn't disagree.

"That's a little funny," you find yourself saying. "What, can he lift a car? Does he benchpress 200?"

Toji doesn't find the image of a child casually lifting 150lb weights as funny. He only grunts, drawing you closer.

"I met him once," he says after a beat of silence, "back when he was barely older than a toddler."

"Hm?" you prodded, still mesmerized by a sleeping Megumi, "what'd you think?"

"Power," Toji responds, "more power than I'd ever have."

You tear your gaze away from your son, glancing at your husband. Toji's eyes were looking somewhere, farther than you could see. It's the envy in his voice that you can't help but keep. A mere child already has everything Toji could ever want. Strength, a name, honor.

You should have realized then that Toji would never belong to you. Not truly. His heart, whether or not he swore up and down otherwise, would always belong to the Jujujtsu world. It's a tragedy. Someplace that he always longed for acceptance, will never truly see him. Even when he died for it.

Satoru will probably never answer your questions about Toji, but perhaps you could get close.

"Why did you do it?"

It was after dinner. Satoru had dropped your son off, and you had practically dragged the white-haired man inside with you, sitting him down on the dining table. He'd complained, but you know he secretly liked being coddled. He didn't deny the second helpings, nor the thirds. Sometimes you wondered if he was a man or a black hole.

Megumi had already gone to bed, and you supposed he had enough of Satoru for one day. It left you and him in the kitchen, putting away the dishes. Rather, you put away the dishes, and Satoru watched. Not that you minded. It was nice to have company.

"Hm?" He was typing away at his phone, blearily turning back to look at you. You couldn't get why he didn't just go home if he was so uninterested.

"Why did you interfere when the Zenin came?" You repeat your question, putting the last of the plates in the dishwasher.

Looking back, things could have gone much differently for you. For your son. You didn't realize how much power the Zenin clan had back then. Had Satoru not stepped in, had you kept rejecting them, you honestly wonder what sorts of drastic measures men like them would take for the sake of power.

"Are you upset?" He asks, tilting his head.

"Of course not." You smile. You were grateful for Satoru, you always have been. He's helped your family out in more ways than you could imagine. After all he's helped Megumi with, there was nothing Satoru could do to get you mad at him, hate him, not truly.

"I was just wondering. It's not like you had an obligation to."

You close the dishwasher with a soft click. The machine starts with a soft hum. He doesn't reply, not for a long while, when you look up, you see him staring back at you. His sunglasses were off, folded, tucked under his collar.

"Clans are bullshit." You're surprised by the venom in his voice. There's a cinch in his jaw. You wonder how many years his hatred has been festering like this.

"The entire Jujujstu world is, honestly. But clans are the worst of all. The hierarchy. Traditions. All dogshit. They'd gobble the kid and spit him back out. I-I didn't want him-" He stops with a hiss, like he'd said too much.

This time, you don't let him run away.

"...you didn't want him to end up like you." You finish.

It clicks, fits together like a jigsaw piece. The Gojo name had ruined Satoru, turned him into something he was too young to be. The name forced him to grow up faster, stronger. The name forced him to be isolated, lonely.

That conversation with Toji curls up inside of you. Back then, you'd only empathized with Toji's pain, but what about Satoru's pain? What about the amount of expectations that had been piled on top of a 12-year-old boy? What about the responsibilities he's forced to carry, each weight growing heavier and heavier but he can't break because he is Gojo?

Satoru stands before you, but you can easily picture him as Megumi. Tiny, small Megumi who didn't speak much but whose heart was bigger than anyone you knew. He could end up like Satoru. Standing at the top of the mountain. All powerful. All alone.

You don't want Megumi to be alone.

You don't want Satoru to be alone.

"Satoru." You step forward. "Could...could I give you a hug?"

He doesn't respond. You step closer. No barrier.

When you wrap your arms around him, you think you can feel him tremble. It takes a moment for him to catch up, for his arms to drape across your back. You clutch onto him tighter, silently promising not to let go until he does.

He doesn't, not for a long while.

☔︎︎

Satoru had a mission on his twenty-second birthday. So, you celebrate five days after he turns twenty-two.

"Again," you say for the nth time, "If-if you have other plans, or anything else, I don't have to stay-"

"Will you stop it, already," Satoru interrupts, "You're gonna make me depressed. I already told you, I got no other plans."

"Well," you frown, "if you change your mind, and you'd rather spend time with your friends..."

"What other friends? You're the only one I got."

You frown at that. He smiles, barely lingering on his loneliness. He does that a lot lately, brush it off. Perhaps it's become easier to. Perhaps it's because you're here now.

The sun had already set on the Gojo estate. The stars were already out. Typically, you would have been antsy staying too late over, especially when Megumi was still home, but your son was a few cities over. He was training with another sorcerer, his new mentor stating that your son wouldn't be back for a couple more days.

Wait, now that you think of it.

"Satoru," you say, your voice heavy with disapproval, "Did you send Megumi off purely because it was your birthday?”

He grins wider, showing off his pearly whites. "No idea what you’re talking about."

You frown harder. He clicks his tongue in distaste.

"It's not like the kid would wanna come celebrate anyway, and now you can focus on me! Two birds one stone." He flops on the couch.

"Satoru."

"Cake! Cake! Cake! Cake!" Satoru chants, as if that'll distract you.

Unfortunately, it does. You roll your eyes, but you lean down, pulling out the pastry out of the bag. It's nothing special, and you do not consider yourself an expert in baking. It certainly isn't fancy, but you were still a little proud. Simple, a small chocolate cake, perfect for two.

Satoru stares.

"I know it isn't much-"

"I love it," he says and you can't tell if he's joking or not, "I'm gonna make it a family heirloom."

You laugh at that. It shakes your shoulders.

"I don't think cakes are built to last that long. How about you just eat it, instead."

"Much better plan," Satoru responds, grabbing a fork, eager to dig in.

He yelps when you slap his hand away as you give him a stern look. You touched his skin. You try not to linger at that, at the fact that he let you touch him.

"Not now," you say, but you still smile, "you need to blow out the candles first."

He huffs but doesn't protest when you stick two candles into the soft frosting. It takes a while to work the old lighter; you have to shoo him away when he tries to snatch it from you. You force Satoru to sit there for at least a minute as you sing the dreadful happy birthday song. He doesn't seem to mind, a mean grin growing on his face, letting you finish up the lyrics.

Toji was mortified every time you managed to stick a birthday hat onto him, dragging him to the living room for his cake. He'd hold his infant son in his arms, his frown even less amused. Even then, he never interrupted the stupid tradition you put him through. He'd sit through the entire ceremony, Megumi asleep on his chest. A scowl would twitch on his lips whenever you managed to smear a dab of frosting on his nose.

You clap when Satoru blows out the candles.

"What did you wish for?" You ask minutes later, swallowing down a bite of frosting. He was already on his third piece. You know you should tell him to slow down but you don't think it will do much.

"If I tell you, it won't come true," Satoru responds, his tone light.

"That's a myth," you point out, "but keep your secrets if you must."

You set your plate down when Satoru speaks the next time.

"I wished for us to do this again."

His voice is shallow, echoing throughout the empty house. You look at him, his white hair, his pink lips, his blue eyes. Everything that encompasses Gojo Satoru is focused entirely on you.

"That next year, we'll celebrate the exact same way."

He sounded so small, as though he were younger than 22. Perhaps, a part of him was. A gentle smile spreads on your face.

"Of course we will," you assure, before your voice gets teasing, "the next year, the year after that, and the next year until you get sick of me." You laugh. He doesn't laugh back. It's silent again, the kind of quiet that's full and meaningful. Distantly, you hear a clock ticking somewhere. It's a nice night. Peaceful. God, you were so tired from all the stressing you did for the cake. Satoru wanted to watch a movie after the cake cutting, but you wonder if he'll forgive you if you fell asleep during the film. You were exhausted.

That's why it takes you a second to register his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft, and patient. His mouth moves slowly against yours. You can taste the chocolate. It takes a second to understand what Satoru was doing that he wasn't Toji before your hands are moving, reaching up to his shoulders, keeping him there as you shy away, breaking the kiss. You two stay like that for a few more moments, still touching. You can hear your breath, feel your heartbeat. A little while later, he moves closer, intent on following your mouth, before your brain kicks in and you're shutting him down, standing up.

Satoru blinks up at you, the realization of rejection sinking into his eyes before you stumble over yourself to apologize because, dear god, you should have seen this coming.

"I'm so sorry, Satoru," your voice is coming out in clumps, "I never meant to... I always thought...I'm a decade older than you."

The ocean eyes crystalize, turning into cold tanzanite. You're too muddled with guilt and self-hatred to notice. Of course, Satoru would take things the wrong way. Of course, he'd misunderstand. You always thought he was wise for his age, but he's still in his early twenties. You should have been better and made your boundaries known. God, you were so stupid.

"So?" he asks, but his voice lacks the usual snark. "Who cares how old you are?"

You resist the urge to say something accidentally condescending. 'You'll understand when you're older' stings in the back of your tongue, and you wonder if it's fair to say considering how you acted when you were younger than Satoru-- when Toji was an older man who found you amusing enough for dinner and a warm bed.

It's different now. You were older, wiser. Toji had been a mistake. A mistake you miss every day.

"Of course, you don't," you say, and despite it all, a laugh fumbles out your throat. Shaky, delirious. "Again, I'm so sorry. It's entirely my fault-I-I should have communicated things better."

"Why does any of that matter?." It's his turn to stand up, and it makes everything so much worse because Satoru's taller than you. "It doesn't, not to me. I lo-"

"Stop."

It's not a yell, but it's the harshest tone you've ever used on him. Still, it's enough for his breath to falter, to give you a moment of reprieve because the only other person who said that to you and meant it died six years ago. You touch the cold metal of your ring. You twist it around your finger. When Satoru's eyes gaze down, following your movements, you force yourself to stop self-soothing.

The ticking of the clock starts back up again. You want to smash it.

"I should go."

You already know it's a bad idea. You shouldn't leave Satoru alone. You should stay, sort things out, mend his heart, but you're human. You want to run, sort yourself out first. You want to take the cowards' way out. Satoru doesn't stop you. You can't bear to look at him, not when it's so much to even be here. Your mind is already being thrown into disarray and you're barely remembering to grab your purse.

Your hands rest on the door when you pause. You don't bother turning around. You know he's already looking at you.

"Happy birthday, Satoru."

For some reason, you cry the entire ride home.

☔︎︎

Surprisingly, it's Megumi who asks about it.

It'd been a week since you'd last spoken to Satoru. Communication stills, and stops completely. It goes both ways, he doesn't randomly pop by anymore, scaring the daylights out of you. You no longer buy strange-sounding sweets because you know you won't be seeing him later. One week ago, Satoru was there. The next, he wasn't.

"Has he said sorry yet?"

You jolt up, staring at your son. Megumi is still glowering at the vegetables you'd put on his plate. At this point, you know he doesn't hate the food. He just always looks like that.

"What?"

"He obviously did something to you." He mutters. "Did he at least say sorry?"

No matter how uninterested your son always portrayed himself as, he was very observant. Of course, he would. As much as you loved Megumi, you wish he'd be just 10 percent less attentive.

You force yourself to laugh anyway. "Satoru didn't do anything." You assure. "What makes you say that?"

"The idiot's been sulking all week," Megumi responds, "everyone's been wondering what's up with him."

You give him a disapproving look, but you doubt it did anything. Instead, you glance down, mindlessly poking at your plate.

"Don't call him that," you say softly.

Megumi only shrugs. Despite everything, you still have this strange urge to defend Satoru, if only to save your own dignity of fighting with someone 10 years younger than you.

"Nothing happened. It-it was a misunderstanding, that's all." You hope your smile doesn't look uncertain. He's only ten, but he's already so perceptive. You don't think it's enough to convince him. Your smile drops. You roll your shoulders.

Another thing you should have seen coming. Of course, Megumi would notice. Despite how annoyed Megumi acts around him, there's still a sort of bond between the two boys. A connection between two sorcerers, something you will never have with your son. You were wrong about your initial assessment about their relationship. They were much closer than you thought. Satoru cared about Megumi, as did Megumi about Satoru. Your souring relationship with Satoru might break that. .

Your actions have consequences. To everyone, not just yourself.

"I'll talk to him soon about it, I promise." As if to placate him further, you reach over, patting his hair. He frowns deeper but doesn't make a move to shove you off.

To your chagrin, soon comes later that evening. Satoru breaks the ice first with a single text.

you free tomorrow

It's nothing like him. No emoticons. No exclamation marks. You say yes, regardless. The next evening, you step out of the taxi, thanking the driver before stepping onto the Gojo property.

It was raining, barely a drizzle, not enough to make you want to bring an umbrella. Still, the air was chilly, just enough so that you clutched the coat covering your body tighter. You carefully avoid the puddles adorning the sidewalk.

You agreed to come here, but it's hard to keep that in mind as you climb the patio steps. You stand in front of the door for an entire minute, counting each second, before you knock.

"Finally! Took you long enough."

It's hard to look at him. Already, your gaze threatens to waver. You force yourself not to wrap your arms around your sides. For once, you're glad he wears those sunglasses of his.

Satoru, on the other hand, barely looks affected by the encounter. He's dressed well, in a white collared shirt and black pants. He smiles cheerily, widening the door so you can step inside. You thank him when he wordlessly mentions for your coat.

Your eyes catch the living room, along with the coffee table. There'd been a half-eaten birthday cake the last time you'd been here. Now the table is completely clean. You wonder what Satoru had done with it. You hoped he threw it away because the thought of him sitting there, alone, finishing the pastry filled you with so much guilt you could almost feel sick.

"Did you see the weather just an hour ago?" He asks offhandedly, "thought the rain would smash through my windows, from how loud it was."

"Oh?" You ask genuinely because you honestly hadn't noticed anything regarding the weather. You'd been stressing about the reunion, mind too preoccupied to care about the skies.

"'hope the violets survived. I just planted 'em yesterday." He glances out the window as though he could see through the sheets of rain. You hum, already feeling out of place. The silence is only accompanied by the rain lightly patting on the windows.

"You still love him." When you don't answer right away, Satoru turns back. "That Zenin guy. You love him."

It catches you so off guard that you can't help but tell the truth. You nod once.

He's still smiling, but the air feels off somehow. Like you're passing unmarked territory. It's a silly thought, and you brush it off immediately. Despite how strained your relationship is currently, Satoru isn't dangerous. He never will be.

"Yeah," he responds, "I just don't get why, y'know?"

You try to smile, but it's like pulling teeth. "I-I don't see how-"

"It just doesn't make sense. You and him, I mean. You two are so different."

You couldn't argue with that. Toji and you were on opposite ends. He was from a world that you would never be able to reach, let alone touch. You were a regular woman. He was a man who fought curses on a regular basis. A man who died from it.

Satoru's laughing; it takes you a moment to realize you might have said some of that out loud.

"Right. Fuck I keep forgetting that's what I told you." Satoru leans against the counter. "A special grade killed Zenin."

"I mean, technically, I didn't lie, right? A special grade did kill him. A special grade sorcerer."

Your brain stops. You can only stare. Satoru reaches up, taking off his glasses, folding them before neatly placing them on the counter. His eyes were always so breathtaking; now they look empty. Soulness.

You laugh. It sounds delirious. "But-but you said you were one of the only special grade sorcerers around."

"Yeah." Satoru nods along.

"Satoru...you're not making any sense..."

"Really?" Satoru tilts his head. "What part of 'I killed your husband' is confusing for you?"

He continues at your silence. "I mean, it wasn't like it wasn't for a good reason. The guy shot a junior high girl for cash. Knowing him, he's probably done worse. If you're asking me, I did a good thing by killing him--oh." Satoru pauses at your expression: horrified, broken.

He's smiling. You think that's the worst part. It's the same smile he's always worn. Playful and mischievous.

"C'mon, you seriously didn't know what he was up to. I can't tell whether you're that stupid or if he was that good at hiding it."

You should have denied it. You should have said Toji would never do the heinous act Satoru just accused him off, but can you? Could you honestly say that? You knew Toji was in bad shit. You'd always known that. He told you about the gambling, the drugs, the money. After he married you, he promised he walked away from that life, he was walking away with you. One last job, he'd said. Just one last job and he was done forever.

Something that goes beyond money, Toji had said, something you would never understand.

You can hardly breathe, sinking against the wall behind you as you collapse onto the floor. Your hands are pressed against your mouth, muffling your sobs as your eyes are filled with tears. Every interaction you've ever had with Toji is flitting through your mind. You can feel the bile in your stomach, threatening to leave your lips, splatter across the floor.

Your husband was a murderer.

Your husband was a monster.

His fingers are cold as he firmly pushes your hands away from your face. You glance up. Satoru stares right back. His smile is gone, replaced by a frown. He squats before you, idly tracing his pointer figure around your cheeks, catching your falling tears.

"He took everything from me, y'know," he says, quiet, low enough that the rain almost drowns his voice, "in just a day, my entire life changed. Someone died. A person I thought would be by my side my entire life disappeared."

"But, I gotta' thank him. Without his help, I wouldn't have become stronger, and I wouldn't have you."

You suck in a breath at that, but Satoru isn't paying attention. His hand traces down to your neck, feeling the skin.

"I like to think that he gave me you as an apology of sorts. It's nice to think of it that way, right?"

You look at him, absolutely horrified at how casual he was being.

Your husband was a monster.

And he’d left you with another one.

Immediately, you slap his hands away.

"Stop." You say, a weak hiss, "don't-don't touch me. Never ever touch me-"

"Yeah," he interrupts, ignoring your wavering voice, "I didn't think you would jump into my arms after what I said, either. But, hey, a guy can dream, right?"

What? And before you can think, he's pressing his lips against yours.

It's not like his first kiss. Before, when it was soft and sweet and he barely pushed, like he was savoring you. This kiss was harsh. Filled with teeth and lust and endless greed. You can taste the inexperience, and the thought that this might be the second time Satoru’s ever kissed someone fills your head. The fight is almost pathetic as you sink into his hold, helpless to do anything but wilt until he's had enough of his fill. You push against his chest, but he only leaves on his terms.

You're both panting, but you're more frazzled. His lips are blushing pink, and there's a string of saliva that stretches before snapping apart. You can feel the way his hands are positioned on your hips. Disgust and self-hatred wells up within you.

"I meant what I said that day: I love you." You squeeze your eyes at his confession. "I mean, what's there not to love? You're sweet; you're hot."

His hands play with the hem of your shirt. You stiffen as you try to claw them off of you, but it doesn't help. You don't want to look, but you just can't help yourself. It's morbid curiosity. Looking at a car crash. Your eyes open and you stare at Satoru.

"But I think the thing I love about you the most is that you'll never hate me."

Two glowing blue eyes stare back at you. He looks ethereal like this. Even when he's kneeling, he's still taller than you. He's always been above you. Not just in height, you're slowly starting to realize.

You always thought Satoru hated his last name. You always thought he blamed his lineage for his loneliness, his isolation. He grew up too fast, forced to become something for the sake of others. It's why you tried so hard to treat him like an equal, as though he were another human.

When he leans in to kiss you again, you finally understand that Gojo never wanted to part from his last name. Why would he? It was always a part of him. It was your fault for trying to humanize and connect with him. You fought for years to see him as an equal that you neglected to ask if he even wanted to be on the same plane as you.

Perhaps, once he did. Back when candlelight illuminated his face. When chocolate was the only thing you could taste.

"You can't hate me." He smiles against your lips. "You feel too sorry for me."

"No matter what I do to you, you'll never hate me."

You start crying again. Satoru hushes you, wiping away your tears in a way that suggests he's not used to being soft and delicate. Yet, he's trying to be. Soon, his gentleness fades, and his impatience seeps in again. It's all too easy for Satoru to haul you to your feet. He was the strongest, after all. You struggle anyway because you're human and your heart is filled with foolish hope. He laughs at your meager attempts to push him away, and you feel that this is all a game for him. Maybe it always was.

"Satoru-Satoru," you're begging as he pulls you through his empty house, "you don't have to do this. Please just-"

"See? You still aren't getting it." Satoru sighs, like he's disappointed before he's tossing you in a room. You flail against the bed, your chest pressed against the cushions before he's flipping you onto your back. It's worse when he's hovering over you, both hands on either side of your head, caging you in.

"I'm not doing anything I don't want to do. I never have."

You expect Satoru to kiss you again, that disgusting display where he rips you apart with his teeth, consuming you whole. Instead his pretty blue eyes flit to your clenched hand. He snatches up your wrist, easily unfurling your hand.

You react too late, only reaching up to stop him when he’s done pulling the ring off your finger. Satoru barely gives it an unimpressed look before he’s tossing it aside. You can only stare in the direction of it, watching as the last thing you had of him drops into the darkness. There’s two metallic clinks before it’s rolling to a stop. And then, you hear nothing.

He lets out a breath, like he’s relieved, dipping his head into the crook of your neck.

“I was so sick of looking at that.” He mumbles into your skin, giving it a playful nip. “Parading that thing around in front of another man like that. It’s kinda’ rude, y'know?”

You give another sob when his hands dig underneath your shirt. He presses on the softness of your belly, burying his face deeper into your neck, inhaling your scent.

“Fuck, you smell so good.” He groans into your neck. You can feel something press against your thigh.

You know what he was planning on doing, he made it clear ever since he dug himself into your skin with fangs. But the evidence. The hands twitching up your shirt, groping and feeling. The bulge grinding against your thigh

You can’t fight him, you stopped trying. Instead, you clench your fists again, letting the last of your tears drip down your face, praying and praying that what Satoru said wasn’t true.

Satoru isn’t nice to your clothes. You don’t know why you thought he ever would be. When he’s done with feeling and not looking, he pushes your shirt up, letting it catch just over the swell of your chest. He’s pushing your bra down, leaning down to trace your skin with his hot, wet tongue.

You jolt at the contact. It’d been so long since you’ve last been touched. He’s barely done anything and yet you’re already so sensitive. Something between a gasp and a moan is pulled out of your lips when Satoru swirls his tongue around your nipple, before he takes it fully in his mouth.

He’s tasting you, savoring you in a way you’d only seen him do for his cherished candy. He’s messy with it too, drool and spit spilling onto your skin, making you feel even colder than you already were.

Satoru has never stopped with just one candy, has he? He’s greedy, popping another and another in his mouth until the bag is all empty. It’s his natural essence to take until there’s nothing left. That’s why his hand trails down to your skirt, pushing it down before you can even decipher what he wants next from you.

You gasp when his hand presses against your panties, pushing them between your folds. The fabric lightly brushes against your clit, not enough for you to have any kind of relief. Still, a tingle jolts up your back.

“You’re soaked!” Satoru’s exclaiming. His voice comes out in the form of a laugh, light and innocent. It hurts to hear him sound like that. You have no more tears to cry again.

You want to tell him that it wasn’t you, that you don’t want him, that it’s just your body, but you doubt he cares about any of that. He pushes your panties down, letting them sit against your thighs before he’s pushing a finger deep into your wet pussy.

You can’t stop the noises this time. It’s more of a yelp than a moan, but Satoru takes it in stride as he continues to finger fuck you. When he digs a second finger into your hole, there’s a wet squelch of a sound. You have to turn away, but you can feel his smile against your skin. Victorious.

His other hands comes, pushing in between your breasts to keep you on the bed as he plants butterfly kisses down your ribs, your stomach, your hips, all the way down until he’s practically on his knees.

You were right to assume his inexperience. He’s sloppy, spreading his saliva and your wetness all over your pussy. There’s no rhythm, no clear pattern as he’s trying everything at once--swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit before licking his way into your hole.

And yet, it’s working. Your battered cunt responds to his enthusiasm, and your walls squeeze his fingers.

You can’t stop your noises. You don’t think he’s trying to stop his. His voice is muffled by your pussy, but he’s moaning and groaning so loudly. You think he’s saying something, but you can hear anything over the wet sounds of your cunt, the throbbing between your ears.

Your orgasm was inevitable, but you’re still surprised when it hits. Ramming into you like a train. Your back arches, and your thighs are involuntarily squeezing Satoru’s head. Keeping him there.

There’s a hum of satisfaction coming from him, but he doesn’t pull away. He folds your thighs, pushing them up into your chest so he can get more access to your pussy, sucking even harder on your clit. You were so far out of it that you can barely remember that this isn’t for you. It’s all for him. Satoru is greedy. It’s his natural essence to take and take until you’re nothing more than an empty bag, once filled with something sweet.

He doesn’t stop until you’ve come around his fingers and tongue a second time, when your cries are on the brink of overstimulation. When Satoru finally pulls away, the bottom half of his face is shiny. He keeps his eyes on you, messily wiping the remnants of you off his face before his leaning forward to kiss you, letting you taste yourself.

Unlike you, he doesn’t bother undressing himself. He’s unraveling his belt from his waist, pushing his pants down enough that he’s able to untuck his cock from his briefs. He’s already hard, giving his dick two cursory pumps before he’s settling his on either side of your body, keeping you there.

He’s big. Big enough that you worry he might actually succeed in breaking you. A semblance of rebellion, motivated by fear than anything else, stirs inside you. You push yourself up, elbows pressing against the mattress before he’s ending it.

There’s a grin, a flash of teeth, before he’s roughly pushing you down again.

“Satoru-“You start, you beg.

“Shut it,” he says, his smile too dangerous to be friendly, “if it isn’t begging me to fuck you, then I don’t wanna hear it.”

As though he’s taking the sight in himself, he hovers over you. The light from the window gently caresses his face in an angel kiss. His white hair is almost like halo, swathing him in an innocent shade of beauty.

When Satoru sinks his cock deep inside of you, you wonder if he’s defiling you or himself.

Just like before, he doesn’t bother letting you acclimate. He doesn’t wait, he doesn’t hold off. You can’t expect him too. Your pussy is squeezing him, edging him on. How could you expect him to not take it as a challenge and fuck you the way he’s dying to?

It’s exactly what he does as he bullies his cock deep inside your walls again and again. He whimpers, high and pitchy before he’s leaning down to bite and lick at your neck, your chest, leaving your skin with marks and bruises that will last for days.

Satoru loses his sharpness the more he’s inside of you. You cry when he leans down, circling his thumb across your clit.

“So good,” he’s mumbling into your sweaty skin, like a mantra, “so good so good. You’re so good. I love you I love you I love you-“

It’s torture to hear him say that over and over again and a part of you tries to force yourself to think of someone else to give you comfort. Scarred lips. Thick black hair.

You can’t.

Satoru has taken away everything, even your dreams.

There’s another gasp before he’s harshly gripping on your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are blown open, wide and manic.

“Say my name,” he’s begging but his grip is too tight to be anything but an order, “I-I need you to-fuck-say my name.”

“Sa-Satoru.” He lurches at that, almost collapsing into your chest.

“Again.”

“Satoru,” and then you say it again and again and again because your brain’s too muddled to do anything but listen to him.

His thumb is moving faster and faster on you clit, his thrusts are getting sloppier.

“Gonna-gonna fill you up,” An alarm of panic ring as he’s blabbering, words stilted and strained, “I gotta’—I just gotta’, can’t think of ‘nothing else—fuck fuck.” He adjusts your legs, folding your body in half so he can push that much deeper inside of you.

He smiles again. Wild. Unhinged. The monsoon that is Gojo Satoru. If you won’t wash away with him, then he is more than happy to drown you in his rain.

“Fuck,” he curses again, his voice a mix of a laugh and a groan, “think the kid would like a younger sibling?”

You can barely process his words. You don’t think Satoru could process his either. His orgasm triggers your own, and you’re both tipping over the edge together. His cum fills your pulsing cunt, searing your insides with white heat.

Satoru collapses on top of you, pressing you into the mattress of expensive sheets. You two stay like that, just the sounds of your harsh breathing fills the room. Satoru gives a shaky kiss on your lips, just as sweet and chaste as the first time.

He stays there for another minute, before he’s pushing himself up again. You can’t understand what he’s doing until you realize he’s still hard inside of you.

“Satoru—” it’s a plea, your voice overwrought with exhaustion, “Don’t—"

“One more, ‘kay?” he slurs, pushing his cock as deep as it could get inside of you, “Just—Just one more.”

You wake up hours later. It's pitch-black, the lights are gone. Distantly, you can feel Satoru's hand curled around your waist. He'd fallen asleep with his head buried in your neck. You can feel his rhythmic breathing against your skin. Outside, the rain beats on the windows, and thunder rattles in the sky.

You wait for it—the anger, the hatred—for yourself to hate Gojo Satoru.

He was right. Nothing came.

#yandere jjk #yandere #yandere gojo satoru #dark content #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #x reader #gojo satoru #afab reader #tw:noncon

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ggidolsmuts · 10 months ago

Text

What Would Zeus Do (WWZD) - ARTMS

A/N: So I wrote this on a whim, kinda wanted to do another Stud(y)ing story for the start of the year, just so you know what to expect. I couldn't help but keep thinking about the whole Artemis and Zeus thing, it fit too well, and WWZD is too funny in my head. The Seasons Greetings images coming out was very fortunate timing, It also fits in the I Never Die, I Only Breed theme, consider this as "DLC" for that game.

You wake up in a room—there is a door, there is a mirror, you're in the bed. Wait, you finished the game, didn't you? You wake up and go to the mirror, only to see the words "NEW DLC" pop up. Best of all, it's free! You accept the DLC and it loads immediately, and everything changes.

You're in a room, except there is no floor, no walls, only clouds all around you. You can walk on air? You look around, only to see a much more gaudy and decadent bed, not unlike Minnie's throne bed from before, and a bejeweled mirror, encrusted with diamonds and sapphires and emeralds. It even has a name—Erised. On intuition you stand in front of the mirror, and golden words float to the surface.

Thank you for playing the game, and as our thanks, please enjoy this sandbox DLC. You play as Zeus, everything is in your godly power. Go forth and procreate!

There is a list of names, but not any of the common names you recognize in Greek mythology. It just says:

*Joseon Goddesses*

Jinsoul

Haseul

Kim Lip

Heejin

Choerry

Some odd names to be sure, you were expecting something closer to Hera or Aphrodite, but Zeus doesn't discriminate, and neither will you. You tap on the first name, and the Mirror of Erised becomes a door. You step through to find the first goddess.

"Hello, you must be Zeus?"

"Yes, you are Jinsoul?"

"Yes, shall we?" She unclasps her dress, and it falls off her body, revealing her divine figure.

"Yes, we shall." She removes your toga, and your chiseled body presses against her suppleness. You lean in and suckle on her bosom, and she cups herself, offering more of her teat to you. You tilt her backwards, and as you do clouds form behind Jinsoul, cushioning the tilt. You split her open, and the gorgeous goddess gasps and grinds, a leg hooked around your hip.

"Yes, lord yes!" Her black hair splayed against the clouds, you take her repeatedly, bringing her to climax as she shuts her eyes tightly. She walls grip you even tighter, and with a grunt you unload inside of her. You pull out, still hard of course, but you assume your job is done until she sighs and half puts on her dress again.

"That's it? I didn't know Zeus was wont to leave a lady unbred."

"What? Of course not, you will be with child."

"Oh no, I know my own body the best. And I'm only fertile, godfucked or not, when it's raining." Your seed still no doubt trailing down her thighs Jinsoul walks towards you, expectant, expecting to be expecting soon.

"You were waiting to tell me that weren't you? So you could have more than one round with me?"

"What's the harm in that, we both know how this ends." The edge of her lip curls up as you summon some heavier clouds.

"What would you prefer, a summer shower, a gloomy thunderstorm, or a misty monsoon?"

"I think a summer shower would be nice." With a wave of your hand the sun comes back into view, an appropriate amount of rainfall splattering both of you. The dress starts to cling to her, seeming to enhance her curves even more, arguably even more enticing than seeing her naked. Her nipples seem to stiffen as her dress gets more and more translucent. You grab the top of her dress and pull, ripping and peeling the front off like wet paper. She might have been outraged at the dress' distruction, but you don't give her a chance to complain.

"Shall we?" Jinsoul merely has time to nod as you thrust yourself into her once more. She is much more expressive and sensitive to your movements this time, her walls velvet and creamy, primed for fertility. Jinsoul sings in the rain, moaning melodically and huskily while you drive yourself ever deeper. Shreds of her dress start falling off, and Jinsoul gradually loses the shreds of coherence she had left.

"Oh yes! That's it, give it to me, I'm yours, I'm yours!" Every pump of your hips pushes Jinsoul to a tingling, toe-curling, throat-wrenching orgasm, the rainfall acting as an aphrodisiac for her. The cloud she's lying on has reclined, and now you're pounding her from above, like mere mortals mating. But the two of you are gods and goddesses, and each clash of your hips is as loud as a thunderclap, and every orgasm she reaches as thrilling and electric as lightning. The two of you go from singing to fucking to breeding in the rain. Every time Jinsoul peaks her walls grasps you heavenly, a soft velvet tug on your shaft—you respond in kind, with a warm surge of seed. Despite the warm shower overhead, your coupling is more akin to a hurricane—wild, wet, and destructive. With limitless stamina and inhuman abundance, you pump her with a womb's worth of cum every thrust, but with the high speed of fucking, with the rapid push and pull of your hips, all it does is leave your connection a complete mess of cum and juice, pooling between her legs, smearing it all over her now-creamy thighs.

"Bred?" Jinsoul can only nod, breathless, vocal cords rough and strained, the skin around her hips now pink and red from your fucking. By the time you pull out, there is more of your cum outside of her than inside, yet not once did you finish outside of her heaven-sent chambers. She barely notices you pulling out, that's how full she is with your seed. Thick white fluid continues to spill from between her lips, it is a wonder how she could hold that much, or how you could put that much into her.

"I will be with your child now, so you'll be my consort right?"

"You know that's not how Zeus works."

"Really? Aww, not even for your goddess Jinsoulie?" You wince at the sudden cuteness, not used to goddesses behaving like that, but you agree.

"Fine, I will be back."

You go down the list, stepping immediately into Haseul's domain.

"Hello Haseul." The goddess that greets you is more dimunitive in size, but curvier, her hips ripe for childbearing.

"Hello." She agrees with your silent assessment, removing her tight dress and moving towards you. "May I taste?" This time it is your turn to be taken at speed as her mouth engulfs your length, perfectly sized to hit the back of her throat.

"Mmm Jinsoul, delicious." Haseul murmurs, guiding you to a seated position before diving back in.

"You know the taste of another goddess?"

"We make do when someone such as yourself is not available."

"That is something I should, nngh, be sure to remedy," you groan as she licks all along your shaft, replacing Jinsoul's slick with her saliva. She uses her hands to stroke you, yet you do not give her what she wants.

"Will you not give me your seed?"

"It is not meant to travel this path."

"Yet I wish to go the path untraveled."

"It will require more work."

"I understand," Haseul pushes her breasts together, and with her soft globes around your cock and a warm mouth around your head, you allow yourself to be milked, fucking her tits and mouth simultaneously.

"Does this— Ah! Please you?" You catch her by surprise as she briefly stops to ask a question, and you splatter her face with a load.

"Now it does." Haseul smiles and gets back to work, and just as with Jinsoul, you allow yourself to cum freely, slowly filling her tummy with an unstopping stream of seed—milk from the work of her breasts. When she is finished getting a fill of you, Haseul has a cumbaby in her tummy, and she is ready and eager for a real baby.

"I am ready."

"Good, I am still ready." Haseul gets up and straddles you, and with a loud moan she sinks on your cock, only to stop two-thirds of the way in—how did she manage to fit you in her mouth?

"Y-You are huge!" she whines, trying, and failing to fit more of you into her.

"Your lower mouth is not as practiced as your upper one, I will help you." You grab Haseul by the waist and start moving her up and down your cock. She bites her lower lip and hisses in discomforting pleasure as you manipulate her on your shaft, and with a few kisses and some slower fucking, she relaxes and begins to enjoy the sheer stretch of her body around you. "There you go, feel good?"

"Yeah, yes, much better."

"It'll feel even better when you open up. Now cum for me Haseul." With your firm finger on her clit she cums willingly, and through the process of her walls undulating around you, you're able to push just that little deeper into her. And then you ask her to cum again, and again she does—each time she does so you get deeper into her, and each orgasm in turn becomes even stronger than the last, her pussy clenching around more and more of your cock.

"It keeps feeling even better! Ah! It feels amazing, like—oh my god, something's coming, something's coming!" Haseul squirms on top of you, the feeling in her abdomen growing to the boiling—no, exploding—point.

"Just let go." With one arm wrapped around her slim midriff you pull her down sharply, and with the other you apply a little pressure on her clit. Haseul jerks, screams, and then gushes all over your cock. Her slick splashes up your body, and mid-orgasm you're able to draw Haseul even further down on you, your head nudging the entrance to her womb. You watch her eyes roll, and her head lolls back as she succumbs to a double orgasm, spraying your stomach with even more juice and creaming over your shaft. She goes limp almost falling off your shaft, and you have to support her, holding her close as she shudders and comes back from her higher plane of pleasure.

"Y-You didn't, you haven't?" Haseul gasps, unable to piece together a coherent sentence quite yet.

"Not yet, I wanted to make sure you feel it." When you feel her fingers grip the back of your neck more firmly you begin pulling her up and down your cock, making Haseul the Goddess of Cocksleeves as you sheath yourself fully inside her each time. "You feel that?" you ask, grinding your head against her cervix and making her whine at the friction. "That feeling means you've taken me fully."

"It's hitting me really deep, it feels so different, but good?"

"I'm glad it does, we should celebrate your accomplishment." Haseul crosses her feet behind your back, and together the two of you saw her tight body up and down your shaft. Tugging on your neck, Haseul leans back, tensing her core, giving both of you a perfect view of her body rocking back and forth. "Look down, you look beautiful like this."

Haseul opens her eyes dreamily (When did she even close them? She no longer remembers and it doesn't matter), and what she sees almost drives her to an orgasm immediately—there's a visible imprint between her legs, changing in size as you continue to bring her down on you. She can see exactly where her pussy ends, the round end of your shaft bulging deep inside her, followed by that tingling sensation that makes her gasp and moan. Seeing herself get fucked in such a visceral fashion spikes her arousal, and she tightens around you.

"Finish in me!" Haseul pleads, her eyes trained at your connection, watching herself get literally stretched each time you shove yourself in her. "I want to see you cum, I want to watch you breed me!" She watches her mound bulge once more, and this time it doesn't go away as you hold her down and explode. Haseul watches herself get bred for a brief second, before the warm explosion inside makes her eyes roll into her head again. She whimpers and tightens around you in her own orgasm, and the two of you ride out your peaks as she accepts all of your load into her fertile body.

When she opens her eyes again the bulge has disappeared, a sense of emptiness between her legs as you gently pull her off you. It would become a hunger newly awakened, and Haseul is at your side even as you seek to move on.

"You'll be back, yes?"

"Of course. I would just like to meet the other goddesses first."

"Kim Lip?"

"Yes, that is me." A pale-skinned goddess awaits you, her hair similarly light-colored, unlike the goddesses before her. Yet it seems to shimmer, almost fluid in nature. She seemed delicate, yet as you wrapped an arm around her, playing with the strap of her dress, you could feel the strength and steel within her.

"May I have you?" you ask. She was a goddess to be charmed, not taken.

"Oh? You're not going to grab me and bounce me all over your lap, like you did with Haseul?"

"Only if you want me to."

"I do not."

"So I figured," you murmur into her ear, hoping to get her a little hot and bothered. "I ask again, may I have you?"

"Maybe, but now's not a good time of the month for me."

"Oh, are you on your—" Kim Lip tisks you and pushes your head with a finger.

"No silly, I'm a goddess, not mortal. Jinsoul is one of my sisters, we can be a bit... odd."

"Odd?"

"Yes. Her desires and fertility spike only when it rains. I am not dissimilar."

"I made it rain for her, I can command whatever weather you wish."

"Ah, I am not that straightforward. My desires wax and wane, much like the moon, so come back and ask me that when the moon phases are most favorable."

"You will have me move the moon and the stars for you?" Kim Lip laughs airily, the childish giggle almost ill-fitting her beauty.

"Oh I doubt you capable of that, I will have you wait for the stars to align."

"I am impatient." You raise a hand to the heavens, and with some focus, you alter the orbit of the moon. It has a tangible effect on Kim Lip, a light pink hue spreading across her face. Her hair turns even lighter, as if reflecting the brightness of the moon.

"W-What did you do?" she stammers, feeling the heat go through her body as the full moon bares itself in the night sky.

"I am impatient and I am capable, so I have moved the moon and the stars for you." You push the straps off her shoulders, and Kim Lip doesn't resist you as the dress slips to her waist. The flush spreads to the rest of her chest, tipped pink on her breasts. "I wish to have you."

"You are reckless, moving the moon like that will have consequences! The tides, they will shift, the mortals—"

"I care not for mortals, I want you." You capture her lips in a kiss, one that's not urgent, but just fervent enough to leave her wanting. Your hands explore her body, touching what you could of her. She grabs your arm, but doesn't stop you, merely holding you within reach.

"Make it a new moon, and you will have me."

"So be it." You raise a hand to the moon once more, and you watch it pass through the phases quickly before going dark, invisble in the night sky. When you look down at Kim Lip again, her hair has turned jet black, and her eyes are dark with need. The pink flush on her pale complexion has turned a darker crimson, and her lips are ruby red—this time she leans towards you, capturing your lips in her kiss.

"I'm yours."

You rip her dress off, and immediately she has a leg hooked around your hip. Her slick comes in waves as you rub your shaft againt her core, teasing her just that little bit more. You want Kim Lip to want it, and you are delighted when she reaches down between your bodies, pushing your shaft to oh-so-satisfyingly enter her on the next rock of your hips. You pause briefly as her eyes screw shut, but they quickly open again, her pupils dark as the new moon.

"Keep going, don't stop." You fuck her thoroughly—a needy Kim Lip is an ambitious lover, and her positions shift just as the tides do. One moment you are humping into her with short thrusts, the next she has you on your back, bouncing on your lap as she desires, your hands merely holding her thighs for support. Then she has you top her, her leg on your shoulder as you make her do a split, even as you split her open. Just as with Jinsoul you are cumming freely with Kim Lip, the two of you extracting pleasure from one another, her body readily accepting your load, only to have it spill out of her with a change in position.

"Am I fit to bear your offspring?" she asks, almost challenging you as you pound down into her.

"That was never in question."

"Then take me under an eclipse, when the light and dark intermix, just as we do now, that will be most desirable."

"You ask a lot of me," you grunt as Kim Lip pushes herself into a sitting position, staring down at you like the moon shines over Earth.

"And I'll give a lot more to you." Looking past her at the moon, you try to ignore her wet sheath around you as you move sun and moon for her, and for a moment the galaxy revolves around Earth as you align everything for her. Kim Lip looks up at the resulting eclipse, and when she turns to look at you again she is glowing, her hair now a dark brown, mixed with streaks of light.

"It is beautiful, thank you."

"No more than you are."

"I want to see it as we continue." Kim Lip gets off you, going on all fours. Her intent clear, you take her from behind, pulling on her long hair so that her head tilts to the heavens. "Yes, just like that! Keep going like that!" Waves of force ripple from her thighs as you slam your hips into hers—no doubt you have wrecked the world with your callous movement of the universe, but all you care about right now is wrecking Kim Lip's world. Her body twitches as she cums, and the eclipse goes blurry when the pleasure becomes too great, when a small supernova bursts forth in her womb, breeding new life inside of her.

"You may also look at it like this." You release her hair and grab her arms, using them as reins as you continue to pound her from behind, leaving another splatter of seed in her.

"I am sore," she gasps, so you accomodate her wishes and lie on your back, pulling her on top of you. You thrust up into her from below, her breasts rocking in the eclipse's moonlight and her thighs glistening from the same light source. It is a lewd position, but just as the werewolf turns beastial under the moon, Kim Lip's cries become more ungodly beneath the celestial phenonmenon. She turns away from the eclipse to find her new obsession, her new object of desire—you.

"It's so good like this, never stop, never stop!" Her voice cracks as you burst in her once more. "Yes, breed me, breed me every cycle, I'll bear all your little offspring!" With triggered instincts you roll out from under Kim Lip, only to take her from above, to hug her and pound down into her the way she desires.

Kim Lip's glassy eyes continue to look up at the eclipse, her ears fed a constant stream of your whispers, happy ones of the offspring she will bear, filthy ones of how else you would take her, interjected with spikes of orgasmic ecstasy, of your seed filling her womb over and over. With one last sharp thrust you break the hug, eclipsing the eclipse, leaning down to kiss her passionately as you claim her one last time. Kim Lip trembles as her orgasm washes over her like a huge tide, your thick seed surging into her with finality.

There is a calm after the storm as she cuddles against you, stroking your chest like a satiated lover.

"You have to go to the other goddesses?" she asks, notable disappointment in her voice.

"Yes, but I will be back."

"Look up at the night sky, and remember to think of me."

"Of course."

You move on to the next goddess, and time seems to reverse when you see Heejin.

"You are dressed oddly, Heejin, I assume?" She's dressed in a very distinct fashion, her garment different from what you saw earlier.

"네, 전 희진인데? 넌 제우스이지?"

You don't understand her question, so you merely nod.

"나랑 교배하로 왔구나!"

You still don't understand her, but it probably didn't matter as she proceeds to discard her clothing before getting on all fours, much like Kim Lip did.

"아까 봤어, 난 이자세가 좋아!" She smacks her own butt for emphasis. It is all a bit weird, and you're wrongfooted by not understanding her at all, but you do as she desires and take her from behind. You thrust into her wildly, but it seems to have little effect on her, and she merely stays in place, accepting your thrusts with no reaction. Before long you cum inside her, but all that does is to worsen her mood, and she turns to glare at you.

"아씨, 이런 줄알고,리듬있게해!"

"Algorithm? What are you saying, I don't understand you at all." Heejin blinks rapidly before continuing.

"Oh, you don't speak my language?"

"I do not."

"My apologies, I was saying, you should do it with rhythm. I did not feel anything because there was nothing to build on." You still yourself and follow her instruction, pushing into her with a leisurely tempo, but Heejin is not satisfied.

"No! You're half a second off between thrusts!"

"What is this, a video game? You need me to be that precise? Why don't you show me how you want it then!"

Annoyed as you were, it wasn't a bad deal, and you get to watch Heejin's fine legs, hips, and ass push back on to you.

"You see? Like this! 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3!" You keep her count in your head, and soon you are able to match Heejin's movements, thrusting forward as she pushes herself back on to you. Soon she's softly moaning, and you have to resist the urge to go faster while she gets wetter and easier to penetrate.

"Can I go faster?"

"What why? This is good for me!" She punctuates this with a louder moan, and one of her legs kick up and shake as she cums without warning. "See?"

"But it doesn't do anything for me."

"That's not my problem, you're the one that came to me. So I set the terms, and I'm not letting you go now." Turns out, Heejin has just as much strength as Kim Lip, and she easily seats herself above you. "Let me have my fun first, and then you can go ahead and breed me, okay?"

Well, at least I don't have to move planets for her, you think to yourself, and you shrug and nod. Heejin begins to rock herself back and forth on your cock—she is tight and wet and pleasurable, but the speed she moves at does absolutely nothing for you. Everything about her helps visually—Heejin running her hands through her hair as she smiles and cums on top of you; Heejin grabbing her own tits, squeezing them hard when she cums on you again; Heejin biting her lower lip and winking at you when she cums a third time; but the lack of speed just means that Heejin leaves you with the bluest case of blue balls a god has ever experienced. She's not even edging you—you'd have to get close to orgasm for her to be edging you.

"Damnit Heejin, let me take my pleasure!"

"Just a couple more." She spreads her legs, rubbing her clit brazenly for you as she gets herself off. And just when you thought she is done Heejin turns around to ride you in reverse now, and all you can see is her back muscles twitching and feeling her pussy grip you when she cums. The only reason you're not going soft is because you're too hard to go soft right now, your balls feeling like the planets you just moved for Kim Lip. You grunt when Heejin falls back against you, and thankfully she whispers tiredly in your ear.

"Okay, I had my fun, you can have yours now."

"Yeah? I can go fast, without rhythm?"

"Yes I'm— ah!" Heejin moans when you push up into her to test the waters. "I'm sensitive enough that I'll have fun too, just treat that as me warming up."

"That was warmup? All of that?"

"Would you rather I fake my orgasm while you just hammer away at me?"

"And here I thought Jinsoul and Kim Lip were the odd ones..." Heejin giggles as she gets off you, allowing you to direct her back on to all fours.

"They are, I'm just the weird one, and the stubborn one. You may be a god, but I'm the goddess, so if you want me, you do things my way or not at all. And you did do things my way, so now you get to get your way too." She wiggles her hips at you, two manicured fingers spreading open her lips.

"Come on then, daddy." A deep moan rumbles through her when you push in, and you finally get to fuck Heejin the way you want.

"Oh yes, pump away with no rhythm, you could never play OSU, or Superstar Loona as well as I can with rhythm like that! But it's okay, you'll be daddy for me right? Or since you're a god, does that make you god-daddy?"

"I kept quiet while you had your fun, you should shut up while I take mine." You put a hand around Heejin's throat, firmly choking the quips out of her. That seems to only help her along though, as her pussy contracts around you with the same rhythm that you choke her with, the petulant goddess seizing up in pleasure. You smash yourself into her repeatedly without a care, and you let yourself go in short order.

There is no Noah in Heejin's body, but even if there was, no ark would have saved her eggs from your thick cum flooding her womb, entering her in a flood of epic proportions, your wrath unleashed ecstatically into her fertile chalice. You grab her hair and tug at her scalp, and a low rasp escapes her as Heejin takes her final breath for a while. Another thrust into her, and you dunk her head down into the clouds, muffling her cry while you let another wave of cum rip through her.

And another, and another. You take your pleasure just like Heejin took hers. By the end of it she is sprawled on her back, coughing and hacking while you pull out and feed the last of your load down her throat. She leaks cum from both holes, properly disciplined and bred.

"Ack, ugh, come back, I'm not done with you yet!" Heejin shouts hoarsely as you walk away.

"Later, keep yourself entertained!" Heejin wipes your load off her face, only to put her cum-covered fingers back between her legs. Her sense of rhythm is completely wrecked as she cums easily from a few pumps of her own hand—she would be easily entertained until you come back.

"Hey!" You're immediately tackled by the next goddess as she swings her arms around your neck. "Hi hi hi!"

"Choerry?"

"Yes, hiiiii!" She smiles brightly at you. "Are you here to have fun?" Choerry sits in your lap, and she's kissing you eagerly, full of enthusiasm. You respond to the kiss, running a hand up her thighs. She hits your hand, bursting into giggles. "Omo, what are you here to do hmm?"

"I am... here to, you know, mmph—" Choerry hushes you with a hand to your mouth.

"If you want to do that, you'll have to do what I say, okay? Don't worry, I won't be like Heejin, leaving you to explode! You'll get to have fun too." So she's not as innocent as she seems to be.

"Sure, I'll play along."

"Good. Now, answer me this one question. Am I sexy?" She pouts and puts a finger to her lips, a cute expression on her face. You sense that it is a rhetorical question.

"You are."

"Who is?" She slips the cardigan off her shoulders.

"Choerry is."

"She is what?" Woops, her finger just slid a strap off her dress.

"Sexy."

"Good, now put it all together." She twirls the remaining strap around her finger.

"Choerry is sexy." The strap comes off, but she has an arm across her top, keeping you at bay even as your hands run along her shoulders and neck.

"Where am I sexy?"

"Everywhere." You pull her arm away, and the dress slides down partially, revealing her chest to you. Before you can dive in she places a hand on your forehead, pushing you back.

"Ah ah ah, you've only earned this peek."

"You said you wouldn't be like Heejin," you whine, almost as childish as the game Choerry's playing.

"I want you to be more exact, what part of me is sexy?" She puckers her lips, blowing a kiss at you.

"Your lips?"

"Omo really? I never thought you would say that!"

"What—" With a silky move Choerry gets off your lap and positions herself at hip-level to you.

"You should fuck it then, show me that you really do find it sexy." She helps you get over the surprise request, pushing her mouth over your cock. Choerry is true to her word, and quickly you blow a load down her throat, and she makes sure to pull out mid-spurt, ensuring that her lips have some of your frosting on them.

"Your face is sexy too."

"Really? Aww you're too kind!" She sucks you off again, this time making sure that you're aimed all over her pretty and sexy features. When you're done she quickly wipes the cum off her face before getting back in your lap, this time deliberately letting her dress hang off her waist.

"Where else do you find me sexy?"

"Your chest is sexy too."

"Really? Would you like me to squeeze them together like this?" She pushes them together, purposely and naughtily making an up and down motion with them—Choerry is anything but innocent.

"Mmhmm, yes, very sexy Choerry." She breaks out into a wide smile again and sinks back to her knees, this time trapping your shaft between her breasts. The soft squish and smooth skin of her moving globes are wonderful, and you cover her tits with cum as well.

"My hands are sexy too right?" You agree, and Choerry has the perfect lotion on her hands soon after, and she rubs it all along her arms. You are happy to play along with her as she pulls her dress up her legs.

"What about my feet?"

"They're pretty."

"Are they sexy?" She cups them together, the space between her soles perfect for sliding something, or some cock, through it.

"I suppose so." Choerry leans back and begins stroking your cock with her foot, and between her legs you can see her want glistening and shining through—you're going to have lots of fun with her. After covering her feet with more lotion, you comment on her thighs, and all pretense goes out the window. Choerry finally slides her dress off, showing off her creamy thighs and curvy hips as she clambers on top of you. Much like before she squeezes your cock between her thighs, and with a nod from her she allows you to start thrusting. You confirm just how wet she is as your shaft slides right against her lips, her slick coating your cock and making a mess of her thighs.

"You love this don't you?" you ask Choerry, her eyes closed and lips slightly parted, much like her lower lips below.

"I love it, I love feeling sexy. Make me feel sexier than Jinsoul and Kim Lip and I'm yours." She is equally as odd as her sisters, her eyes open once more, smiling brightly even as her darker desires are stoked and burning and dripping all over you—the goddess is innocently seductive. You grope her ass, squeezing a cheek and a giggle from Choerry. Her thighs close more around you, her legs twisting to give your cock maximum friction. She begs you to tell her more about how sexy she is, and you oblige her.

"So seductive Choerry, by now I would have plowed any of the other goddesses but I'm letting you make me wait. I can feel how wet you are, it makes you even sexier." You keep a tight grip on her ass, continuing to thrust up between her thighs. She whispers for more, and you give her more thrusts and more dirty whispers. "Everything about you is sexy, both outside and inside."

"You haven't mmm... you don't know about inside yet."

"I have no doubt you will be. I bet you're sexy when you cum too right? Cum for me Choerry!" Between the rubbing of your shaft against her and your filthy praise Choerry nips your neck to muffle a loud cry as she cums on your command, coating your shaft with even more slick. You grunt into her neck and join her in climax, spewing your load all over the insides and back of her thighs.

"That was great! Am I sexy elsewhere too?" Ever energetic, Choerry is eager to keep going.

"I heard your back is sexy too." She scrambles to get on all fours, and sexily she draws her hair over one shoulder, revealing her flawless back to you. "Perfect, your butt looks so sexy too." You rest your cock between her cheeks.

"You can do my ass, do it like you did my thighs." She squishes and spreads her cheeks, enticing you to do just that. Your hardness rubs against her rosebud as you start hot dogging Choerry while she touches herself. When she cums and some of her slick splashes on your balls, you grunt and splatter her back with your own thick slick, making sure to spread some of it over her butt.

"Now are you convinced you're sexy?" you ask—by now you've covered pretty much every surface of Choerry you can get at.

"Only on the outside," she teases, sitting in your lap. "What about inside, people talk about inner beauty, but what about inner sexy?"

"Well, I guess there's only one thing to do." You line yourself up for Choerry, and she does the rest, letting out a decadent "Ah..." as she sinks on to you. It is a snug fit, and you get to enjoy Choerry's little gasps of joy and discovery while she squirms and grinds on top of you, just to get you in a little deeper.

"Mmm..." A much sexier moan escapes her when your tip nudges against her cervix, and the fit goes from snug to perfect. "Is the inside of me sexy?"

"It's perfect, you feel so good around me."

"Mm mm," Choerry shakes her head. "Say it's sexy."

You wrap an arm around her midriff, applying a gentle rocking motion to get her to move more, to start fucking herself on you as you feed her filthy little nothings.

"Your insides feel so sexy, like I'm going to melt in you. I don't want to pull out ever, and I won't, because your womb?" You jerk up a little, making sure she feels you pushing against it. "It's so sexy too, I'm going to pump everything into you."

"Tell me more, more more more! I want to hear many more people say it!"

"Sexy Choerry!" "Choerry you're so sexy!" "You're the sexiest goddess!" Choerry looks around, and she sees copies of you, all saying the same things. You can sense the smile in the kiss she gives you.

"You're the best!"

"And you're the sexiest." She's even wetter now, slick flowing down her thighs as she gets even more excited by the praises coming from your copies.

"Are they real copies?"

"No, they're copies, but not real."

"But are they touchable?" The dark lust springs once more from her eyes as Choerry gets to the point. "Can they fuck me?"

You beckon one over, and Choerry pushes you down before hugging you tightly.

"Have him fuck my ass. It's all his, or well, yours!" You instantly feel a different type of pressure as the copy positions itself behind Choerry, and the nubile goddess is still as she feels the exact same cock in her pussy open up her ass. The two of you do your best to take her together, but it is difficult in the position, and you can't really do much but wiggle and grind your hips below Choerry.

"Ah, I feel so full... so sexy!" she moans, the pressure in her butt never going away as the copy thrusts slowly in and out of her.

"You are sexy, taking two of me at once? Amazing. But I want you to feel better." You stop things briefly to stand up, and in short order Choerry has her arms around your neck, her legs around your hips, and her butt in your hands as she is sandwiched nicely between you and your copy.

"Gyaahhh!" The new position allows gravity to help Choerry get stuffed even better, and with one single mind at work the two of you bounce her stupid on top of both cocks, always making sure that she feels sexy by having one shaft push in as the other one pulls out.

"Ohmygod, it feels even better!" Her head rests against your copy's shoulder, and she makes out with it, giving you access to her neck and chest in return. You leave a few marks on her skin, something that the copies will never get to do, and with your godly branding complete, you get back to the main task at hand. Choerry's divine figure is rattled back and forth between the two of you, each taking turns to pound her deeper onto the other cock.

"Guh fuck... I, I can't stop cumming..." She's clinging to your neck, drooling on your shoulder, spittle flying randomly with each hammer of Choerry's body against the anvils. All the while your other copies are still at work, the praises of Choerry still resonating in the air. "I-I want to feel them too, want them to make me feel sexy."

You have Choerry lie down on your copy, it's cock still buried in her ass. You take up residence in her heavenly chambers once more before the other three copies move over. Two of them take Choerry's hands and wrap them around their own cocks, and she begins stroking them mindlessly. The last copy kneels and pushes his shaft against her cherry red lips, and she obliges with her mouth. Choerry has never felt sexier in her life as she services all of "you" at once, dealing admirably with your cock in each of her holes, yet still managing to stroke the two in her hands.

"You look so sexy right now Choerry, if only the other goddesses could see you." Her mouth is too full to reply, but she clenches around you harder than before. "Would you like them to see us?"

"Mm! Mm!" She looks at you and nods, jerking the cock in her mouth as well.

"Choerry!" "Oh my god!" "What are you doing!" "Ahahaha!" Jinsoul, Haseul, Kim Lip, and Heejin appear, exclaiming at what they see before them. Choerry pops the shaft out of her mouth to address them.

"See! I am sexy, not cute! I—mmph!" Your copy takes Choerry's mouth back for their own use, and the other four goddesses are left incredibly aroused at the display in front of them. Choerry's body undulates in an erotic yet haphazard fashion, yourself and each copy manipulating a part of her for your own pleasure—you push her hips down with each thrust; your copy drives her hips up as it fucks up into her ass; the one at her mouth jerks her head, a hand in her hair rocking her back and forth; the other two drive her arms, helping her stroke them faster by thrusting into her hands. Faster and faster all of you work Choerry, and it all comes to a head at once.

"Mm! Gluk! Mmmf! Ngh mmmmmm! Pffhhhuck!" All of you plunge into Choerry with finality, and the instant explosion of cum inside and across her body makes her orgasm that much harder. Her legs jerk and thrash about, her toes curl, and she squirts against your abs even as her own chest is covered with two thick loads. When she goes limp, the goddesses watch you and your copies pull away, leaving Choerry leaking cum from all holes and dripping cum everywhere on her body.

"Put it back in, I want more, I want more... No, don't, mine!" You turn to see the goddess walk towards you, and each of them reaches for a you-copy. "Don't take..." Choerry pouts, but you pull her into your embrace, whispering in her ear.

"Let them go Choerry, you were so sexy, you made them all horny." Your point is illustrated from seeing the goddesses in different positions—Jinsoul has her legs wrapped around you, letting herself get carried and fucked; Haseul is on all fours, letting you mount her; Kim Lip has her back pressed against a cloud wall, letting you pound her into it; Heejin is on her side, one leg raised lewdly in the air while you fuck her sideways.

"Really? It was because of me?"

"Mmhmm, we should enjoy the show, besides, I want you to myself." You sit up against a cloud wall of your own making, allowing Choerry to lean back and draw your arms around her. You rub her clit lazily while she strokes you, just watching the orgy unfold in front of you.

"Did I look like that earlier?" she wonders aloud, as she see Jinsoul's expression twist in pleasure; Haseul's head jerks back and she let's out a cry as she cums; Kim Lip's biting her lower lip, low groans and little whimpers escaping every time she is pounded—her hair changes shades erratically, like she's losing her mind; Heejin rhythm is similarly off, sometimes moving fast, sometimes undulating slow, but always cumming, always drooling, her thighs and your shaft are shining with slick.

"You looked even sexier than that. You made them like this." Choerry kisses your jaw, murmuring as she grabs your shaft, nudging you into her.

"Make me like that too, breed me again." You lean forward, pushing the both of you on all fours, the perfect position to both breed Choerry and watch the others get bred. Your hands are greedy, one groping her breasts, the other grabbing her hips, holding her stably as you hump into her. Choerry looks on, watching her fellow goddesses get plowed and mated, each utterly satisfied at the pleasure you were giving them. She feels your warm hand on her belly, and she grabs it with a free hand, squeezing you as she tightens her pussy—she wants your load badly.

Choerry's scream is deafening when she goes over the edge with you, the warmth filling her overwhelming and delicious. She collapses in the clouds, eyes drooping in tiredness, all she sees is white—the white of the clouds, and the rivers of potent seed flowing out of Jinsoul, Haseul, Kim Lip, and Heejin.

Your run complete, the copies disappear, and you rest next to Choerry, smiling. She smiles back, seeming to glow, like sunshine incarnate. She gets brighter and brighter, and It is all consuming, the goddesses disappearing from sight—you're not fading to black, you're ascending into radiance. The last thing you hear is Choerry's laugh.

Large black words are the only distraction from the overwhelming brightness.

Replay DLC?

A/N: I threw in lots of references to each member, tried to portray them with their own exaggerated personalities. The Heejin Korean part was purely to make an "Algorithm" reference, don't worry about understanding it. If you get confused about the ground and walls existing, don't think too hard about it, it's all "god stuff", the ground is there if you need it, the wall is there if you need it (all in the form of clouds), cum that's on Choerry's body magically disappears, no need for clean up.

This is me mostly just writing and not worrying about the details I didn't want to worry about, so it is definitely more to the point and "get to the scene I want to write about". Hope it reads fine, thanks for reading and Happy New Year!

#smut #artms #jinsoul #haseul #kim lip #heejin #choerry

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