#soft dom tech

[techhasmjolnir]

Trivial Pursuit

Plot: It is a dark, stormy night... Wait, let's not use that trope for the millionth time, shall we?

You're home alone thinking your plans for the night are cancelled, but things change quickly when Tech comes home late and wants to pursue what the two of you originally planned...with a major twist neither of you envision.

Author's Notes:

This is my first time crafting a Bad Batch story, let alone a smutty one. I wrote this after receiving inspiration and encouragement from a friend of mine, and I'm quite proud of the final result. I usually don't write anything on a very short scale, so while this is a one-shot story, it is quite lengthy (word count is 12,450).

Some sections have notes in parentheses, listing names of songs and artists I paired with the scenes at hand. I strongly suggest looking them up as you read, in hopes you can make your own connections to the story that much stronger.

Important Notes:

This content is strictly for audiences 18+. The roles in this story assume female readers & Tech. Concepts introduced include: dirty talk, fingering, M & F masturbation, oral sex (giving & receiving), PiV, creampie, female ejaculation, and soft dom Tech.

Summer nights on Coruscant bring one of two things – either endless, driving rain or nearly unbearable heat and humidity. Tonight is the former; the rain spatters angrily against the windows of your high-rise apartment in the Uscru District. Despite the inclement weather, the entertainment district still bustles with throngs of beings from every corner of the galaxy. You wisely choose to stay in tonight, knowing that you could have been out in any one of the district's numerous clubs, but then you remember that when it rains, the clubs become overwhelmingly claustrophobic with seas of bodies looking to stay dry.

Tech sent you a holo-message earlier in the afternoon, letting you know he wouldn't be home for dinner, as he and the rest of the guys were experiencing a few mechanical issues with the Marauder, and needed to stop for emergency repairs. You're disappointed, because it was supposed to be a stay home date night for the both of you, but you're pragmatic; machines are made to eventually break, and the Marauder is no exception.

Since you're already having dinner alone, you decide to load up your browser with half a dozen scientific journals you'd been meaning to catch up on. Pouring yourself a glass of desert wine (the real deal, too – you'd been lucky to exchange services with someone coming back from Tatooine who had a bottle directly from the Tuskens), you take your dinner and sit on the floor in the immense pile of thick, fluffy blankets you threw down to create a nest, of sorts. You know what will happen. You'll read one article. One becomes three. Three becomes six. Six becomes four hours later.

Who cares?, you think. Tech's not coming home tonight, the weather is shit, and I've nothing better to do than read and possibly get very drunk tonight. Sipping the desert wine slowly, you open the first journal, “Frontiers of Marine Science (Kamino).” You choose this one on purpose. You've been fascinated with Kamino for as long as you've been with Tech, hanging on his every word when he would tell you stories of when he and his brothers were young, and what the Kaminoans are like, although you suspect that there's a great deal he hasn't told you, and likely never will. Down the proverbial ash-rabbit hole you go...

You stare intently at the computer screen, not even cognizant of the last time you blinked. You sigh, and you realize it happened again. Glancing at the clock, you realize it's close to midnight. The wind has picked up even more, howling and threatening to drive the raindrops through the windows. You want to sleep, but without Tech by your side, it will likely be another restless night.

You get up painstakingly, stiff from sitting in one place too long, taking your dishes to the sink and washing them quickly before you turn off most of the lights, except the one that casts ambient blue-green light throughout the entire living room. The sound of the rain is spiking your anxiety and hurting your ears, so you put on some music to try and mask the sounds of the raging tempest outside.

“Much better,” you say to your empty apartment. “Now I can get back to more reading...and maybe I'll fall asleep before four? Fat chance,” you mutter.

Nestling back into your blankets, you pull your computer back in front of you and open the umpteenth article of the night. “Landscape and Urban Planning (Coruscant).” You laugh loudly at the title of this one, given the complete lack of any discernible “landscape” on Coruscant.

“Urban Planning? On THIS planet? Let's see what the so-called “experts” have to say on this topic.” As you delve into the article, you let the background music ease your mind to a more focused state. You'll never sleep if you can't quiet your mind. Tech...where are you? I need you...

(Peter Murphy – All Night Long)

You slip back into your reading easily, and it's not long before you're completely engrossed again. The state of hyperfocus takes over you so much, you don't even hear the tone of your security alarm chiming as it's being deactivated, and the front door sliding open with an audible hiss. Tech stands in the vestibule and reactivates the security alarm before removing his helmet and walking slowly into the living room, bathed in relaxing ambient light. He isn't surprised to see you're still awake; he knows when he isn't home, you rarely sleep more than a few hours.

He stops when he sees you bundled up in the middle of the floor, your computer on the coffee table, your eyes wide and glassy. He knows this look well, because as you're so fond of pointing out to him, he looks exactly the same way when he's working intensely on something. He smiles softly, and waits to see if you'll even look up and notice that he's there. When he notices you're pretty far gone, he chuckles quietly and puts his helmet down on a side table where you've got medical journals piled high. He knows better than to startle you, so he comes into the living room a little more and stops.

“Cyaré...I'm home...I am quite sorry about tonight, but we had a malfunction with the Marauder's hyperdrive and an unscheduled trip deviation was necessary. If it is quite all right with you, I would like to make it up to you...”

You don't acknowledge him and he sighs. He knows you heard him, but nothing has registered. It's been some time since you've been stuck in a hyperfocused state like this, but Tech feels like he's responsible for this one, and it's up to him to ease you out of it. “Cyaré, please...” he tries again. Nothing. His brow furrows and he walks over to the control panel that controls the audio system. The music isn't even loud, but he eases the volume down, and when the raging wind and rain outside is heard once more, it snaps you back to reality.

Blinking hard, you look up from your computer, and you see Tech standing there, arms crossed, looking down at you, and for a moment you could have sworn it was Crosshair in your living room. The switch flips in your mind and you finally realize it's Tech, and while he doesn't look exactly icy, he doesn't look at you with the warmth he normally does.

“Tech...?” you croak, your throat parched. You haven't even remembered to drink any water.

(Sundial Aeon – Iced Melancholy Spectacle)

“Mésh'la, have you been up all night waiting for me? For your sake, I hope you have not. You know how I feel when I find out that you have not been getting proper sleep. I ask you again, were you up all night waiting for me?”

Your pulse quickens as he speaks to you, for his tone is becoming increasingly frigid. You wonder if he's doing this to purposely get a rise out of you, because he knows you're incredibly easy to bait. Many times he uses this tone of voice with you before the two of you engage in sexual relations, because he learned early on in your relationship that he could send you into extended periods of arousal just through that alone.

“Yes...and no, Tech,” you reply meekly. “You know I have a hard time sleeping when you're not here, and the storm tonight has sent my anxiety into overdrive. I thought I could sit here and read until you got back...and with luck, maybe sleep a little before then.”

This answer appears to satisfy him, for he now walks over to you and sits on the couch just off to your side. You catch a bit of his scent as he sits down...metallic, earthy, sweat. Nothing you haven't smelled on him before, but longing for his presence and his touch all night turns those simple scents into potent triggers. Your pulse is still elevated from him speaking to you, and as you turn to look up at him, those beautiful golden brown eyes of his look down upon you, and his face softens with that little grin you've always found to be one of the sexiest things about him.

He leans forward slightly, resting his arms on his knees, and you can see that he's definitely tired. Tired, but not so tired that he isn't interested in spending any time with you now. As he glances at your computer screen, he can see what has to be at least a bare minimum of 30 open tabs in your browser. Moving over so he's behind you, he shifts his legs a little so you're sitting between his feet. His strong hands close on your shoulders, and before you know it, he's firmly massaging them. You've been sitting hunched over for so long, that everything feels taut and pinched.

“Y/N, please do not let this become a habit. I know your mind works very much like mine. But you need your rest.”

You can't help but groan softly as his long fingers manipulate your skin through the material of your light sweatshirt. It doesn't matter if his hands are under his work gloves, or if they're bare...there's something magical about the power of his touch that you can't get enough of. You let your head loll forward as his thumbs dig in around your shoulder blades, and this time you let something more akin to a pleasurable moan escape. Accidental, of course, but you feel like you could melt into a puddle under his ministrations.

“Mésh'la, was that what I think it was?” he asks, amused.

(EN Voice – Hold On)

“What was what?” you reply, confused.

“I think that was more than just a casual groan. Is this turning you on?”

One hand remains to work on your shoulder, but his other hand has now moved down your back slightly, and come around to the front, gently cupping your breast, then closing around it and squeezing lightly as his thumb traces across your nipple.

Your head snaps up as he does this, your back straightening up into his hand, and your eyes close, holding back the moan that desperately wants to leave your throat. This is what you've craved all night, and you bring your hand up over his, holding it lightly as he begins to flick his thumb over you, feeling the tissue grow firm under his touch. You feel a very gentle pulse in your clit, and a tiny contraction inside as he touches you, and this time you let him know how you feel, letting out a soft, feminine moan through parted lips.

“I will take that as a yes, cyaré... Don't hold back anything from me.”

This time he lets go of your shoulder, and his other hand comes around to take your other breast, repeating the process. As your drop the hand over his, you lean back against the couch, your head resting close to his groin. You look up and you can see eyes growing heavy with lust. As he catches your gaze, he takes each nipple and pinches them firmly. You gasp and feel the unmistakable heat beginning to pool between your legs. The first instinct is to reach down and lightly touch yourself, but as you move to do so, Tech takes your wrist firmly and holds it in place.

“I don't think so, mésh'la... Would you like to play a little game with me? It is something we haven't done before, but I have been thinking about it for awhile, and it would be fun for both of us.”

“What kind of game?” you ask dubiously.

“It is a game of intellect...however, there are several rules. The first is that I am the only one that may ask the questions. I know you are well versed in many disciplines, and in the interest of fairness, will keep them based in subjects you know well. The second rule is, you will only have a maximum of three minutes to answer me. The third rule is that if you answer correctly, you must remove an article of clothing. I will also remove something, starting with my armor and gear. When your clothing is gone, each successive correct answer will net you a physical action from me. The fourth rule is that if you are incorrect, or fail to answer at all, everything will stop and you receive nothing.”

“Oh, what?!” you fire back indignantly. “How is THAT fair, Tech?”

“I do believe this is called “being a tease, mésh'la... That is the correct phrase, is it not?”

You sigh a little huffily. “Yes, it is. But...you've piqued my curiosity, and more importantly, by the end of this I want both of us to be in post-orgasmic bliss. You got that?!”

His eyes widen a little at the slight aggression you fire back at him, but he can tell you've been worked up all day, and need some relief soon. He does too, because the thought of him buried to the hilt inside you by the end of the night has been on his mind all day. He feels his cock beginning to stir a little under his codpiece...no time to waste.

(Desert Dwellers & Phutureprimitive – Praise Her, the Fire Keeper (Phutureprimitive Remix))

“Move over a little, Y/N...let me sit next to you. It will be easier this way. Move the table out of the way, too. You know we're going to need the extra space.”

You smile at him cheekily as you shift the coffee table out of the way, leaving plenty of room for both of you. Those long legs of his have zero chance of having room with any furniture in the way. Images of you running your hands up the length of his body, stopping at his hips, pausing to lick and gently suckle on his cock flit through your mind and you feel your face grow briefly hot. We've never had sex in the living room yet... I wonder what kinds of questions he'll ask me?

Tech shifts the blankets around so that he can be next to you, and he stretches out his legs, letting out a groan of his own. Being cramped up in the cockpit of the Marauder all day left him just as stiff and sore as he was sure you were, being in front of your computer all night. You turn to look at him, and he smiles softly at you. What he's really thinking right now is beyond you, but you hope it's something incredibly wicked.

“Are you ready? I will set a timer for three minutes with each question. We will start with something easy, as a warm up. What is the definition of the “instar phase?””

“Tech, come on, this is super easy.” You look at his grinning face, eyes never leaving his as you give your answer: “this is the developmental stage of arthropods, such as insects, between each molt, until they achieve sexual maturity.”

“Of course, you are correct. Take off your sweatshirt, cyaré...do you have anything else on underneath?”

Without hesitation, you skin off your sweatshirt, and you're wearing the sexy black and red lace bra that Tech would have seen much earlier in the night, had he come home on time. Normally you wouldn't have bothered with a bra if you were planning on being alone at night, but you know Tech is very much a visual creature when it comes to sexual endeavors. You hear him sigh softly as he catches sight of you, and you see him pull off his work gloves, casting them off to the side. All you can think about now is feeling his bare hands on your flesh...your face, your neck, spine, and especially between your legs.

“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are, Y/N? You truly are one of the most exceptional creatures I have encountered in all of my travels.”

You can feel the heat rising in your face, and you're thankful that the ambient light in the room can hide the fact you're beginning to flush, but you know how perceptive Tech is, and he will pick up easily on other visual cues.

“Tech, I...” you begin, but you can't think of anything meaningful to say. How do you follow up after such a grand statement?

He flashes you that sexy grin of his again and you're melting inside. “Next question, love. Are you ready? What are eubacteria?”

It's been awhile since you had to discuss microbiology with anyone, but this was another easy question, and you're wondering if Tech keeps planning on asking easy questions just to get you naked faster. Not like it would bother you if that's the case, but he has more things to take off than you do...

“Eubacteria are simple celled organisms, many with rigid cell walls, often needing a flagellum for movement. They are considered “true” bacteria, along with cyanobacteria. They are often found within the intestines of animals, and can also be found in soil.”

“Very good, love, although you took a little longer to answer this time, and I know you knew the answer easily. Stand up and slowly take your pants off for me.”

Slowly, you rise, and your first inclination is to deeply stretch, because of being on the floor too long. You are tempted to make him wait, but you're afraid if you do, he might stop the game just to make you wait for another time. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of the soft, loose pants you like to wear around the house, and as your eyes lock on his, you begin to sway your hips a little and laugh as you draw your pants down over your hips, then let them drop to the floor. You've got on the matching panties that go with your bra, and you watch Tech's eyes move down to look between your legs.

You know he's wondering if you're wet for him yet, and you watch as he takes off the breastplate of his armor, and everything else off his arms. You can see the musculature of his chest through his blacks, and this time there's no denying that you're aroused. Your clit pulses with heat and you can feel yourself starting to grow wet, as you think about skinning his shirt off, tracing every line of his flesh...burying your head into the crook of his neck and showering him with hot kisses...

(Nor Elle – Silent Storm)

“So much better,” he breathes, running a hand down his chest, letting it rest on his stomach. He looks up and you and his eyes almost seem to shimmer behind his lenses. Oh yes, he's turned on. “Turn around for me, mésh'la, I want to see that beautiful ass of yours.”

You can practically hear the lust dripping in his voice now, and you comply, turning around for him. You're not wearing a thong, but there's very little material, and to sweeten the pot for him, you decide to be a tease. Curling your finger into the material, you lean forward a little and pull your panties aside, so you're completely exposed for him...and now he can see glistening moisture, inviting him home.

Hearing him groan softly and shift around a little as his codpiece suddenly becomes much more restrictive makes you smile. You know what you're doing, and you're damn good at it. Letting the material go, you turn back around and look at him. You look down and see that he's slipped his fingertips just under the material of his blacks.

“Do you have another question for me, or are you in shock right now?” you tease gently.

He laughs and removes his hand from his blacks, letting it rest on his stomach again. The urge to start stroking himself is incredibly strong right now, but this needs to be a waiting game. If he's going to make you wait, he has to, as well. He brings his knees up and puts his other hand behind his head, leaning back against the couch, trying to think of a more difficult question for this round.

“All right, this one is a little more involved, and I do not want you answering in a simplistic fashion. Tell me what happens when an individual suffers a crush injury.”

While you have plenty of knowledge of anatomy and physiology, it's been quite awhile since you've had to draw from it. You're frantically thinking back to your university courses in medical terminology and A & P, trying to remember. You are drawing a serious blank, and you look over at Tech, who smirks at you a little because he can see the creeping panic in your face.

“Time's fleeting, cyaré...you have a minute and a half.”

Fuck, come on! I know this! Why can't I remember it?!

You're looking around the room, grasping at straws, mind racing as you try to give Tech something...anything. You shut your eyes and you're not even conscious of the fact you've slipped a hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through the gossamer fabric of your panties. Tech cocks an eyebrow when he sees you doing this.

“Fascinating, my love, but you're at 45 seconds. I need an answer.”

Your heart is up in your throat, robbing you of your breath, and your voice. Still touching yourself, and feeling your clit pulse beneath your frantic fingertips, the connection is made. You don't know how, but here it is. You have to be at somewhere under 20 seconds at this point, and the minute you open your mouth, it becomes a raging torrent of words. He's not going to rob you of pleasure tonight, and if he wants an answer, he's going to get one!

“It's a reperfusion injury that appears after the release of crushing pressure. The mechanism is believed to be the release into the bloodstream of muscle breakdown products – notably myoglobin, potassium and phosphorus – products of rhabodmyolysis, the breakdown of skeletal muscle damaged by ischemic conditions. Devastating systemic effects can occur when the crushing pressure is suddenly released, without proper preparation of the patient, causing reperfusion syndrome. In addition to tissue directly suffering the crush mechanism, tissue is then subjected to sudden reoxygenation in the limbs and extremities. Without proper preparation, the patient, with pain control, may be cheerful before recovery, but then may suddenly die shortly thereafter. This sudden failure is called the "smiling death." TECH, WHAT THE FUCK?!”

The sudden obscenity catches him off guard, and he can't help but laugh at you, standing there, looking so flushed, with wild eyes and heaving chest. Just to tease you even more, he does a slow clap before speaking.

“I am seriously impressed, mésh'la... Not only did that outburst have the correct answer in it, but you clocked in with just two seconds left. I will not apologize for the question, but I will apologize for inadvertently stressing you to the point where you felt it necessary to touch yourself for me, without me ordering you to do so.”

You feel your cheeks go hot, instantly embarrassed that you've now accidentally shown Tech something you've always done when pushed to your maximum stress levels. “Tech, I...fuck. This is embarrassing. I'm...”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Y/N. I have extensively studied what can happen to people with minds like ours, when we are pushed beyond our ability to cope with certain situations. You acted well within the parameters of normal behavior. That being said, I believe I owe you something now. I'm feeling generous, so for that answer, I'll take off more than one thing.”

He gets to his feet, and seemingly towering above you, he looks down at you as he unhooks his utility belt and drops it on the floor next to the rest of his gear. You can see that his breathing is becoming a little more shallow, and you wonder just how hard he is, hidden by that infernal codpiece. Off comes the armor on those lithe, muscular legs, along with the other utility pouches. Suddenly you don't feel so close to naked anymore, but now you wonder what he'll ask you to take off first. He sits back down next to you, looking up with eyes full of wonder.

“I can almost read your mind, Y/N. I will make it exceedingly easy for you. Take off your bra; it's beautiful, but those breasts of yours are so much more so. So much so, that once it's off, I want you to show me how you play with them when you're thinking about me.”

(Sister Machine Gun - Burn)

You almost let out a tiny squeak with his last sentence, but you find yourself actively wanting to show him. Besides, once you're done playing this game, you can always ask him to return the favor, and show you how he touches himself when he's fantasizing about you. Reaching behind you, you unhook the band and slide the straps down your shoulders, letting it fall into your hand, and holding it at arm's length, you wink at him, dropping it to the floor.

Swallowing hard, and trying to ignore the fact you've mostly soaked your panties through with your juices, your hands come to your chest, one hand squeezing, while the other pinches, rolls, and tugs at a nipple. You bite your lower lip and close your eyes, thinking about Tech pulling you down to the floor, unleashing his cock and taking you right then and there. Moaning softly, you show him just how much he affects you, and through doing this, show how much you adore him.

“That's it, cyar'ika, don't be shy...show me...teach me,” his voice getting husky with deep arousal now. “Please, baby, don't stop now...”

Breasts still in hand, you step in between his slightly parted legs, nudging his foot aside to make room for you between them. Tired of standing and feeling like you're a trophy upon a pedestal, you sink to the floor on your knees, sitting back on your feet. He has an overwhelming vision of grabbing and pulling you to his chest, sinking his tongue into your mouth for a deep kiss, bucking his hips up into you so you gasp at the sudden intrusion of his cock between your outer lips...

You flash a mischievous smile at him. He caves, as his hands come to rest on your hips, pulling you closer to him so quickly that you put your hands out in front of you to keep from falling. For a moment you hope you don't come crashing down face first on his codpiece, but you manage to get your hands on either side of him, your face a hair's breadth away from it.

A harsh gasp rises from you and you look up at him. He's unperturbed by your current position, and only wishes the codpiece was off so you could kiss him through the fabric of his blacks and feel how hard he is for you.

“I've got you, don't worry. Although I do believe it's prudent I ask the next question, don't you think? No, I won't ask another question like the last one...at least just yet. You look uncomfortable down there, love. Be a good girl, and sit in my lap. Here, let me help you.” Hands still on your hips, he pulls you toward him more so you can creep your way onto his lap. You don't want to sit down on him fully because you know he's hiding a massive erection under the codpiece, but you can still straddle him. You let your hands come to rest on his shoulders and he sighs contentedly, happy to finally have you in his arms after a particularly stressful day. Wanting to return the favor from earlier, your hands begin to gently massage his shoulders, and he's so tight and knotted up, he closes his eyes and lets out a soft moan.

“Mésh'la, please...you're distracting me!”

“Me? Distracting you? If that's not the pot calling the kettle black, I don't know what is!”

“All right, I concede...so here is your next question. What is a myelin sheath?”

Finally, an easy A & P question! “The myelin sheath forms around nerves, including those in the central nervous system. Composed of fatty substances and proteins, it allows electrical impulses to travel easily along nerve cells.”

A triumphant smile crosses your face and Tech's expression softens once again, his eyes smoldering with invisible fire. You know your panties are coming off next, but it's the manner in which they'll be removed that's in the front of your mind. His hands move down from your hips to your ass, squeezing your cheeks firmly, fanning the flames of desire ever higher within you.

Your hands move from his shoulders to rest on the back of his neck, stroking the soft flesh lightly and for a moment he lets out a brief moan. In return, his fingers sink just a little lower down your cheeks toward your outer lips, and you gasp as you feel him beginning to move your panties aside. A fingertip begins to draw its way over your lips, slick with moisture. You moan his name unbidden, wanting him to sink that finger deep inside you, but he knows the game you're playing, and he's not willing to play that hand just yet.

“Not just yet, Y/N. You should know better than that. Get those panties off, NOW.”

The razor sharp edge to that last word sends chills down your spine. He releases your ass and lets you climb off him, and as you stand between his knees, you look down upon him. He's got his hands behind his head now, looking up at you expectantly.

“Take them off now, cyaré, or I rip them off you, and I'm sure you'd like to keep them intact, yes?” “Yes, Tech,” you murmur, not exactly sure you still want to keep holding his gaze.

Hooking your thumbs under the waistband, you begin to roll your panties down, skinning them off slowly in a little bit of a striptease. You swirl your hips to and fro as you part your legs just a little bit as you get them all the way down, and as you step out them, you chuck them behind you, not really caring where they land.

You feel wetness beginning to seep from you freely now, and you shift your legs apart a little more so Tech can clearly see that there's a thin bead of your juices getting ready to drip on the floor. He's never seen this particular phenomenon up close before and you smile as you watch his eyes widen in surprise, and his lips part silently.

“This is what you do to me, Tech. You make me so fucking wet, my pussy weeps for joy. All for you, baby...all for you.”

You slip a hand between your legs and let your fingers pick up your wetness before it falls. Time to show him something else you do when he's not there, and you're thinking about him... You trail your fingertips through the cleft of your outer lips, picking up a great deal of moisture. As you bring your fingers back to your mouth to suck them clean, you see Tech activating the release for his codpiece in a big hurry, and he almost whips it off to the side as it lets go, and now you see what he's been trying carefully to keep under control.

Under his blacks, you see the prominent outline of his cock, fully hard, lying long and thick, begging to be released. You can't see anything because of the material, but you wonder if he's also wet for you; you've always loved seeing him ooze pre-cum for you, and as you've discovered, he loves it when you tell him you love how wet he is for you.

“Mésh'la, I need you to move out of the way. Let me get my boots off, and then you're going to come back and stand over my face. I must taste you, before your next question.”

(Asura – Crossroads Limiter)

You waste no time stepping back to let Tech ease himself back up onto the couch so he can get his boots off, which he does in what seems like record time, kicking them off to the side before sinking back to the floor and urging you to come forward with a few short waves of his hands. Carefully planting your legs on either side of him, he lets his head rest on the back of the couch cushion and puts a hand on your thigh. He's breathing hard now and his free hand has slipped down between his legs to start touching his cock through his blacks. He doesn't want to reveal himself to you just yet, but the mounting arousal can no longer be ignored.

You have a hand on the couch's armrest for a little stability as Tech bids you to lower yourself down within reach. Another bead of your juices threatens to fall, but this time Tech is ready with his dexterous and skilled tongue, ready to catch it. His cock twitches heavily under his hand, and you can feel the heat of his breath against your outer lips as his tongue traces its way through them, picking up every bit of wetness he can, as if he's starving.

“Let me feed you, Tech...you're so hungry... Eat your fill, my love...”

He moans deeply against you as you say this, the vibrations tickling you, making you twitch and squirm. The hand on your thigh begins to close down and squeeze as his tongue probes deeper now, slipping through your inner lips, very nearly to your entrance and now it's your turn to cry out sharply. Your clit begs and aches to have attention lavished upon it, but as you slip your free hand down to start touching it, your hand is pulled away.

“Not just yet...you don't get to play with yourself until I tell you, remember? As much as I'd love to eat you out right now, go sit back down. It's time for your next question. What are the four main components of physical science? I do not need any elaboration for this response.”

“Wow, this takes me back to my high school days,” you chuckle. “Let's see if I still remember all of them!”

“You'd better, because you know what will happen if you fail...and we're too far along for this to become a disappointment, cyaré...”

You swallow hard at his response, because you know he's serious. You're both too far along now to have this be a night of completely ruined edging and orgasms. You remember two of them immediately, but the other two are escaping you, and panic begins to set in once more. He's watching you intently as he continues to touch himself, letting out intermittent moans on purpose to help keep you focused.

“Uhh, well, I remember there's physics, chemistry...I'm having trouble with the other two.”

You look over at him and he just shakes his head at you, one eyebrow raised as if to say, “you're smarter than this, and you aren't getting my help.” He lets his head rest against the couch cushion again as he strokes himself through his blacks, and the hem of his shirt has ridden up his stomach just a little. Looking down, you can see the head of his cock peeking out of the waist of his pants and you suddenly get the chills, knowing that it's only a matter of time before he lets that beast out to play.

“Time's a-fleeting, honey. You'd better hurry up, because if you want any hope of riding my cock tonight, you will answer me.”

“Goddamnit, Tech,” you mutter, trying to focus the incessant loud chatter in your brain. “Okay, it's physics, chemistry...” You look over at your bookshelves for answers, hoping there's something there that will jog your memory. Books on botany, biology, genetics...no, that's not it. Wait...biology? Terrestrial sciences...yes, that's it!

“One minute, my love. It'd be prudent if you stopped wasting time.”

Physics, chemistry, Earth sciences (like meteorology and geology), and...and...come the fuck on, I know this!

You look out the expanse of windows to see that the storm finally stopped, and the clouds are beginning to dissipate. The glittering lights of the Uscru District seem to twinkle like stars, and then the light went on. It's so simple, and it's been here the entire time! “30 seconds, mésh'la. You really like pushing your luck, don't you?”

“Tech!” You look over at him and he picks his head up, blinking a little owlishly as he refocuses on you. “It's physics, chemistry, Earth sciences, and astronomy! Told you I knew it...and you know I don't have the greatest long term memory.”

“I am aware of your memory capabilities, and know it is a limitation for you. You have done well, and you're one step closer to being fully rewarded.”

Sitting up, he pulls off his shirt, and that is a gift unto itself. You long to touch every single inch of his finely chiseled chest and abs, kiss your way from his mouth all the way down to his cock, taking him in hands free in a small display of dominance of your own. The vision is so real, you can almost taste him. He leans back against the couch and gives you that irresistible sexy grin, and one of his hands comes back down to touch himself, not caring that his cock is now peeking prominently out of his pants. He's content to stroke himself through his clothing for as long as it takes.

“Just one more question, and then the real fun can begin,” he says lowly, his voice reminding you of roiling smoke. “I've been thinking about coming home and fucking you senseless all day...so much so that Hunter asked me if something was amiss, because of how unfocused I was. You are my undoing, cyaré, but I would not trade it for anything in this galaxy, or any other.”

You feel a deep twinge of arousal deep in your chest as he tells you this, and you close your eyes and moan his name, making a conscientious effort to not reach down and touch your clit as you do so. At this point, all you want is Tech to be touching you, gently swirling his thumb on the underside of your clit as his fingers stroke your insides, bringing you to a juicy wet orgasm...

“Tech, I'm ready...what's the next question?” You reach out and gently touch his calf, stroking your fingers over the soft material of his blacks. “Please don't make this one that spikes my anxiety again, okay? I'm not sure I can handle much more of that...”

“I promise you, Y/N, it won't be a question that made you panic like that first one. I am still impressed with your response to that, by the way.” He grins at you and slowly closes his eyes, trying to think of a question that will yield a response that will tie in with all of this foreplay. You look over at him expectantly, wondering if he'll keep his word. Without opening his eyes, his silken voice flows with the query: “the arrector pili muscles are responsible for what phenomenon?”

“I think you've finally realized that the A&P questions are where I generally feel most comfortable, Tech,” you chuckle. Tapping a fingertip to your lip, you try not to glance over at Tech, who has slid one of his thumbs into the waist of his blacks, and is ever so slowly beginning to pull downwards. He's still not looking at you, but he knows that you're unable to stop watching him.

“Arrector pili...hm, arrector pili...pretty sure this one is a dermatological term, if I'm not mistaken,” you muse.

“Two minutes, love. You should be thinking much harder about the answer, than about me getting my pants off,” he fires back.

“I wasn't...! Tech, I wasn't even...”

He starts laughing at you and now he finally opens his eyes. “You're wasting time again, mésh'la! Must you always do this?”

You'd love to just say “fuck you, Tech,” right about now, but you know how well that would go over. Grasping your ankles, you rest your head on your knees as you look around the room again. There's definitely nothing here to give you any visual clues like last time. You look over at Tech, and your breath catches in your throat as you see that while you've not been focusing, he's gotten his pants down to his knees, and as you look up at him, he cocks an eyebrow and then winks as he's now got his cock in his hand, and he is fully primed. Sudden chills zip down your spine and you feel yourself breaking out in goosebumps. Wait a minute...

“Hey, Tech? The arrector pili muscles are responsible for goosebumps, also known as horripilation, piloerection, or the pilomotor reflex!”

“That's my girl...I knew you could do it. For your reference, you responded with approximately one minute left. You are going to come over here now and finish taking my pants off for me, and when you're done with that, my cock is going in your mouth. Is that acceptable?”

You know your face is flushed, and behind your eyes, you feel the strong heat of arousal burning. Tiny pulsations deep within you trigger wetness to begin flowing once more as you crawl over between his feet, and grab hold of his pants, skinning them off with ease.

Before you comply with his request to start sucking his cock, you do something that momentarily catches him off guard, as it's nothing you've ever done before. Since he's sitting with his knees propped up, you curl an arm around one of his legs and then lean against him, pressing your face to the hot flesh, closing your eyes and savoring the moment. It isn't just arousal devouring your mind and body now, it's the deep love you have for Tech.

“Cyaré, is everything all right? A note of concern is quite detectable in his voice, and he begins to reach for you. Are you feeling ill? What's the matter?”

You sigh happily. “Nothing is wrong, Tech...don't worry.” You open your eyes and look at him, smiling softly. “I love you, Tech. As you said to me earlier, you're the most beautiful creature I've ever encountered in all my travels. Now let me come and take care of you. I can't wait to have you in my mouth...taste your wetness...maybe even let you come there, too...”

He certainly wasn't expecting this reaction and for once, the chatterbox that is Tech, is silent. You giggle and then let go of his leg, moving on all fours until you're right up against him. “Let me help you, baby, please...”you plead quietly.

Guiding his cock into your mouth with one hand, you slowly ease him in. You hear his breath hitch for a moment and he moans quietly as you ease him a little farther in; your free hand knows just what it needs to be doing to make this even better for him, and as you take him in as far as you can, your other hand closes around his balls, slowly squeezing and massaging him.

“M...mésh'la, don't stop... Be a good girl and suck my cock...”

(Aquascape – Phoenix Dance) His head falls back against the couch cushion and his legs close around you just a little. One of his hands comes to rest on the back of your neck lightly, and as you begin to suck on him, you feel him stroking the flesh there, sending more chills shooting down your spine. You always love it when he touches your ears and your neck, because he knows how wet it can make you, and like clockwork, wetness begins to slowly seep from you again.

Closing your eyes to refocus, you begin to move your head to and fro, tongue gliding effortlessly along the underside of his cock, sucking hard as you reach the tip, pulling away to let the tip of your tongue flick rapidfire, eliciting a sharp cry from Tech, and the hand on your neck closes down suddenly, pushing your head back down as he bucks his hips, nestling himself back inside the safe, hot haven of your mouth.

You moan deeply as that incredible thickness fills up your mouth, the vibrations traveling all the way down his cock, earning you quick flexing and even more swelling. You'll have to be careful, or he'll come too soon, and you want to make this special night even more special for the both of you.

You release his balls from your grasp, and you pull your mouth off him, purposely leaving a long trail of saliva behind. You're going to need two hands to stroke him adequately. Inwardly, you can't help but laugh because although he's never directly come out and tell you, it drives him wild when you give him super sloppy blowjobs.

He looks down at you and your eyes meet, and when he sees your tongue connected to his cock only by saliva, he starts to breathe faster and shallower. He can't remember a time when your eyes have shone this brightly, consumed with both love and sheer primal lust. He brings a hand under your chin gently with his index finger, lifting your head up.

“Y/N, do you know how beautiful you are when you have my cock in your mouth?”

You shake your head slightly. “Tech, let me feed...I'm so hungry!”

He lets go of your chin and his hand comes to the back of your head again. He starts pushing you down and your hands guide him back in to your waiting mouth. “Eat your fill, cyar'ika, there's more than plenty...that's the way...”

Grasping his cock tightly, as you draw him farther back in your mouth, your hands corkscrew their way down his shaft, gliding easily as you purposely let saliva dribble out of your mouth. As your hands come up to meet the head of his cock, you pull your mouth away, letting one of your hands close over him, massaging and stroking the sensitive underside with your thumb.

Tech begins to slowly buck his hips, and you hold your hands still for him, closing firmly around him once more, letting him feel that indescribable tightness that mimics what it's going to feel like for him once he decides he wants to fuck you. His moans have become much more frequent and louder, and you know you're pleasing him exactly the way he wants.

“Your cock feels so good in my hands, Tech... So perfectly hot and hard... Do you want my mouth again, baby? I'll suck you dry, if you want me to... You're so fucking beautiful, Tech...I love you...”

“Mésh'la, let me go right now, I'm getting too close,” he chokes out.

Immediately, you release him and his breath comes hard and fast. You can see a light sheen of sweat building on his forehead from the strain of trying to remain totally in control and not lose himself. You scoot back on your heels a little, and put your hands on his knees. In a flash, his hands grab your hips and suddenly you're being picked up and heaved onto the couch, your legs spread wide open for him, glistening with wetness.

“Now it's my turn,” he growls, and he brings his mouth close to your entrance, giving pause to stop and smell you. His olfactory senses are not as acute as Hunter's, but he can still detect pheromones at moderate levels, and right now, the scent of your dripping pussy is almost enough to send him over the edge without even having to touch himself.

Hands gripping your thighs, he lets his tongue snake out and drag through the cleft of your outer lips, picking up the delectable salty and slightly sweet taste of your juices. You let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden intrusion of his tongue, and then you moan his name deeply when he slips his tongue farther in, letting it work its way just inside your entrance, greedy to consume everything you can give him.

You realize he never gave you permission to touch yourself, but the pulsing in your clit is driving you mad. Slipping your hand down just enough so your fingers can graze the slightly retracted hood and the lustrous pearl of your clit, you get no more than a few seconds of contact before Tech's hand comes up and seizes your wrist. He pulls his mouth away from you, your wetness smeared across his face.

“Cyar'ika, once AGAIN, you're not allowed to play with yourself unless I give you permission. Until I tell you otherwise, your pussy is mine do with what I please. Is that understood?”

You're so flustered and aching for release that hot tears begin to prick the corners of your eyes. Your voice wavers slightly as you plead with him, hoping that he'll either let you touch yourself while he works your insides, or hoping that he'll slide his cock in, filling you to your absolute limits, and bang you like a broken screen door.

“Tech, please let me touch myself, I wanna come for you so badly...”

“I'm not ready for you to come, my love. You will wait, and when it's time, you'll be given release...not a moment before. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, just about ready to slide my fingers into you. You've been such a good girl for me so far, Y/N. You will be rewarded soon, I promise.”

He lets go of your wrist and then turns to plant light kisses on your trembling thighs. His lips moving across your flesh feel like butterfly wings, and as he kisses his way down your thigh, he plants kisses on your pubic mound, before turning his attention to the treasure at the center of it all. You hold back a scream of pleasure as his mouth closes over your clit, and as he begins to suck on it, one of his fingers begins to push into you.

(Delerium - Serenity)

Your hands grope the couch cushion blindly, looking for something to hold onto as you watch him digitally penetrate you. No such luck, and you begin to swirl your hips gently in an attempt to get Tech to pick up the pace and start fucking you with those gorgeous long fingers of his. As you did to him, he now does to you, and pulls his mouth away to let his tongue flick effortlessly over your fully engorged clit, chuckling to himself as he pushes a second finger inside you.

Even now, you feel quite stuffed with just his fingers, and the thought of eventually taking his cock triggers another seep of wetness. He moans deeply as he feels the gush around them, and it doesn't take him long to find the tiny spot within your walls that when properly triggered, makes you come hard and productively.

Tech closes his mouth over your clit once again, swirling his tongue across it while alternating with sucking it like you would his cock, letting his head bob just a little bit as he does so. Your head falls back against the back of the couch as now he begins to move his fingers fore and aft within you, gently hooking the tips up so he can stroke that little sweet spot. He has no intentions of letting you come just yet, but he's more than content to edge you.

Deep seated groans of pleasure escape you as he continues his delicious torture. You feel yourself starting to grow close to orgasm, and as much as you want to come, you need him to fuck you good and hard first. “Tech, slow down, I'm getting close,” you nearly sob. You moan his name repeatedly in attempts to get him to stop, but he's purposely ignoring you.

“Cyaré, if you keep moaning any louder, what will the neighbors think?” he murmurs as he pulls his mouth away once more. He can feel your walls starting to constrict around his fingers, the telltale sign that your orgasm is getting ready to break.

The obscene squelching noises his fingers are making as he's stroking your insides is the other tell that you're ready to take him. He slows the gentle stroking and then carefully pulls his fingers out, reaching back down between his legs to start stroking himself once more, using your juices as lube.

“Fuck the neighbors, Tech, I don't care what they think!”

“I don't want to fuck the neighbors, love...I'm only interested in fucking you. Move forward just a little bit, please...” He shifts positions as you move yourself right to the edge of the couch, propping yourself up on your elbows. With cock in hand, he shows you exactly what he wants, stroking his thick length slowly, eyes locked on yours the entire time. “Tell me, Y/N, what shall I do with this, hm?”

You're trying to control your breathing, which has long since become erratic. Your face flushes with intense heat once again, and even though Tech is quite composed, it's taking every ounce of his being to stay in control. “Tech...please,” you whimper. You're not even sure how much you have left to beg him. “Fuck me, Tech, I can't wait anymore... Slide that big cock in me and fuck me senseless...”

“Are you sure, mésh'la? As much as I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your begging, there's one thing to which I cannot say no, when it comes to you.”

He doesn't wait for a reply from you asking what that one thing is, as he positions himself in line with your entrance, and slowly begins to push his way inside. This time that scream can't be held back, and your hands fly to his forearms, gripping them so hard your nails dig furrows in his flesh. He lets out a hiss of shock, rather than one of pain, and his eyes narrow. You've never been quite this way before with him, but as you pull his arms forward in an attempt to get him to push his cock in even deeper, he's more aroused than ever by this primal behavior.

His eyes close and his head falls back a little as he slides ever deeper into you, his girth stretching your inner walls to what feels like their maximum. You feel especially tight, and he can't help but let out a deep sigh, followed by an equally deep moan as you squeeze your walls around him, creating exquisite friction. It would be very easy to lose control and come inside you far too soon, but there's something he'd like to try with you tonight, that the two of you have never done before.

“Cyar'ika,” he groans, “take my cock...take all of it...you're so fucking wet for me...”

You begin to swirl your hips just as he finally parks himself inside you fully, the head of his cock lovingly kissing your sweet spot and your cervix. Letting go of the death grip you have on his arms, now you reach for his hands, closing yours around his as he begins to move. He rocks his hips slowly, watching himself move in and out of you, the sounds of your cries the finest music he's ever heard.

“Oh, Tech,” you moan airily as you squeeze his hands. “Harder...faster...this pussy's all yours, Tech. Ner cyaré...please, I love you...” You've never spoken a word of Mando'a before now, but you learned what some of the terms of endearment are, considering how frequently all of the guys used them with you.

Tech squeezes your hands hard and for a brief moment, you could swear he's getting misty eyed. “...Your accent is a touch peculiar, my love, but...it will suffice. Ni kar'taylír darásuum...”

He lets go of your hands, running his own from your hips down to your silky inner thighs. Closing his hands gently around them, he honors your request, and the lazy thrusting becomes faster and more insistent. Soon he finds a pleasant rhythm that sends you into a state of deep bliss, your moaning constant and deep.

Tech curls his arms under your legs near your hips, pulling you in closer to him as he begins to fuck you just a little harder, slipping over your sweet spot, teasing your walls to start constricting around him...calling for you to touch yourself and bring about the ultimate release... You bring your hand down between your legs one more time, giving pause before touching your hard, swollen clit.

“Tech, please...let me,” you nearly whimper. “Let me come for you...I want you to watch me come on your cock...”

He lets out a harsh groan as you squeeze him tightly, urging him to spill inside you. “Permission granted, mésh'la, but when you're at the eclipse, you must stop...” He slows his pace now, knowing that it can be difficult for you to get close to, or have an orgasm, if he's fucking you too fast. “It's all right, love, show me how you touch yourself when you're fantasizing about me...”

(Lords of Acid - Venus)

You pick up wetness on your fingertips by letting them run over his cock as he pulls back from you, stopping just before he's all the way out. He flexes hard under your touch, amazed by how sensuous you're being, moaning softly as you slowly retract the hood of your clit, the beautiful pink pearl underneath glistening with moisture. You close your eyes to help focus, as your fingertips begin to swirl over the hot nub of flesh; Tech slips his way back inside as you, exhaling sharply as he watches you touch yourself.

“That's it, Y/N, show me how...” he whispers hotly.

A deep sigh lets loose from you as your fingertips draw concentric circles around your clit, then along the sides, and finally underneath, flicking it gently like you would with your tongue on his cock. “Tech, you make me feel so fucking good...look how hard I am for you...” With each deep stroke from him gliding along your sweet spot, the pulsing in your clit continues to grow, and you know you're starting to get close. Everything pulling into a singularity, seemingly crackling with electricity...

As he watches you swirl your fingers a little harder over your clit, he instinctively knows that you're on your ascent. Your gaze meets with his once more, and his eyes are so full of love and deep desire as you share this level of intimacy with him. Faster you work yourself, and subconsciously your back begins to arch upward, your inner walls squeezing his cock like a vise.

“Cyar'ika, slow down, I can feel you getting too close,” he warns. “If it's all right with you, there's something I've always wanted to try with you...will you let me?” He starts pulling out of you as he makes sure you're not touching yourself anymore. As he does, you adopt a mock pouting expression. He's used to you doing this to him to be purposely annoying, but he's not having it now. “Don't be a little brat, Y/N, or I'll stop right now!”

You recoil slightly, and in a small voice, utter words you normally wouldn't for him: “I'll be a good girl, Tech, I promise. You can try anything with me, you know that. What do you have in mind?”

“Let me help you up, and I'll show you. I promise you, I think you will really enjoy this,” he says, getting to his feet, and taking your hands in his to pull you up off the couch. “Come on, mésh'la, follow me; we're not going far.”

He leads you around the back of the couch, then takes your hips in his hands as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. At long last, your lips finally connect in a deep, passionate kiss...his tongue slipping through your lips, moaning deeply into your mouth as your tongue collides with his. “You taste so good, my love...if I'm not mistaken, I do believe you've been drinking desert wine tonight, have you not?,” he murmurs, softly kissing the corners of your mouth, then your forehead.

You can't help but laugh at this. “Shit...you caught me, honey. But you know I can't help myself when it comes to desert wine!” Returning the favor, you cradle his face in your hands and bring your forehead to his, before kissing it gently. “So...what is it you wanted to try, Tech? The suspense is killing me,” you say, with a little bit of sass.

He returns to gently kiss you a few more times, his lips lingering just above yours as he whispers, “why don't you turn around, and I'll show you, hmm? Here, let me help you.” Suddenly, he spins you around and pushes you over the back of the couch. Yelping, you put your hands out to brace yourself as you're bent over, standing on tiptoes as Tech pushes your feet apart. You are fully exposed to him with no way to stop whatever he has in mind.

You hear him laugh softly as he drops to his knees, and then you feel his hands on your ass, kneading the flesh firmly before he begins to spread them apart. For a moment you think he's going to try and feed his cock into your ass, but instead, you feel his tongue plunge into your pussy, gathering every bit of your wetness. Back to your clit he goes, hungry mouth closing over it once more to suck and tease briefly, before pulling away and standing back up.

“I will never tire of seeing you spread open for me like this, cyar'ika... Now take my cock all the way, like a good girl!”

You moan loudly as you feel him press the thick head of his cock flush against your entrance once more. Taking your hips in his hands, he begins to push his way back in so slowly, it's agonizing. He groans deeply as your insides begin to swallow him whole, and once more, he looks down to watch himself disappearing inside you. As he buries himself all the way in, he flexes hard a few times, making you squirm and cry out as you try to get your feet on the floor.

“Don't fight me, baby... Relax, cyaré, I've got you,” he says reassuringly. You feel him pick you up by the hips just a little, relieving the stress in your legs, and now he begins to fuck you, slowly rocking his hips up against your ass, stretching your insides to the maximum. “Take my cock, Y/N, it's all yours,” he moans, as he feels you squeeze your walls against him once more, coaxing him to let go inside you.

“Tech, faster...harder...” you cry, eyes shut as he rocks you into a state of sheer bliss.

Something between a sigh and a deep moan rises from Tech as as he picks up the pace, hands gripping your hips tightly. As a moth is drawn to flame, his gaze can't be pulled from watching himself slip in and out of you effortlessly; it is an endless fascination. You hear his breathing becoming increasingly ragged the harder he fucks you, and you can feel him beginning to swell with each successive stroke. All you want him to do now is push forward with one final surge, lock himself in place, and come hard for you while moaning your name...

“You're so close, baby...come for me, please...fill me up!” you cry.

“Not...just...yet...” he groans, slowing his pace down yet again. He's panting heavily with exertion now, and his grip lessens on your hips. “There's just one more thing I want to experience with you before you and I both have our release...”

You want to scream in frustration as he pulls out of you, but you feel his chest pressing down on your back as his arms come underneath you to lift you up. Your legs feel like wet noodles, and you're afraid you'll fall to the floor, but Tech's strong hands hold you tight against him, his damp cock poking you in the back. Your heart is racing now, feeling slightly apprehensive over what he has in mind.

(Sundial Aeon – Our Eternity)

“Hold still, cyar'ika, I'm going to pick you up. Put your hands behind my neck and hold on. There's something I want you to see.” “See? Tech, what are you...agh, Tech!” you cry out as his hands come down between your legs, resting on your hamstrings as he begins to lift you up. You raise your arms and slip your hands behind his neck as he asks, your head resting against his shoulder. “Tech, this feels so strange,” you moan softly, eyes tightly shut.

“Bear with me, my love...this is new to me, too. Let us learn together,” he murmurs with his nose buried in your hair. Once he has you securely in position, he turns around and slowly moves toward the full-length mirror that is mounted on the closet. It doesn't dawn on you what he has in mind until he stops in front of it. “Look, ner cyaré...look at yourself with a set of fresh eyes.”

You open your eyes and see your reflections in the mirror, Tech looking at you with a serene, loving gaze, holding you perfectly steady, mere inches above the perfect curvature of his thick cock. The soothing blue-green light encompassing the living room serves to accentuate every curve and line of both your bodies. A small gasp of awe leaves you, as you're reeling from how beautiful both of you look.

“By the Maker, Tech...this is unreal,” you say quietly. “Look at us...”

“There are times when I feel like you do not appreciate yourself, mésh'la...as if you do not understand your importance or worth. I want you to see yourself the way I do...as a most resplendent star. With darkness spreading unchecked across the galaxy, I know your light will always guide me home.”

You feel a thick lump in your throat and you can feel yourself getting misty eyed. He's never spoken like this to you before, but you know every single last word is true. Tech is not one to mince words, nor speak half truths. Coming from the man who couldn't even hold your gaze for more than a few seconds at a time, and who was so shy that it took him months to gather the courage to ask if he could hold your hand... This is nothing but love of the highest order, girlie...if you needed any more proof of his devotion to you, this is it.

“Tech...” “Just breathe, baby. Here we go.”

With that, he lowers you down until you feel the head of his cock nudging against your entrance. Moaning lustily, your legs begin to tremble as he brings you down further on him, that beautiful heat and fullness taking over your senses once again. You watch your reflection as he fills you, clit pulsing wildly. You've never seen yourself being spread open like this and penetrated, and the enormity of how arousing this all is, is almost overwhelming.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” you moan deeply, “this pussy's all yours, Tech...”

He lets out a deep moan as he finishes lowering you into place, feeling you constrict your walls around him. “That's right, cyaré...it is!” Now you witness the extent of Tech's immense physical strength as he begins to lift you just a little so he can start fucking you. You watch the mirror transfixed, unable to tear your eyes away from watching him spear you; even in this light, you can see his cock glistening with wetness. Your clit peeks out from its hood, thick and swollen, begging to finally be caressed over the edge.

“Tech...let me come, please,” you manage to utter in between uncontrollable moaning.

“Move with me, mésh'la. I want to watch you come all over my cock... I won't let you go,” he replies gently.

With that, you start to bounce on his cock each time he thrusts upward, your eyes never leaving the mirror, watching Tech's musculature ripple as the two of you quickly find a common rhythm in your motions. You feel his chest heaving against you, breath coming hard and fast as he fucks you. It's when the low, ceaseless moaning starts that you know it's time for you to finish yourself off and give him the ultimate release.

Carefully you release one hand from his neck and bring it down between your legs. You've been edged so much tonight that an orgasm will not take very long, and you know Tech is well on his way to his, for you feel him beginning to swell just a little more inside you with each upward surge. Swirling your fingertips over your wet, hard pearl once more, the electricity returns quickly. Amplified by his cock sliding over your sweet spot, you let out a deep moan as you feel the tiny contractions beginning to swarm and intensify.

“Oh, Tech, I'm getting so close...” you groan as you tighten your grip on the back of his neck.

“I know, cyaré, don't hold back...let it all go,” he whispers. “Give me everything you have...I love you, baby.”

You feel everything beginning to pull inwards into that little singularity, every nerve ending in your clit ablaze, your very breath streaming fire. Tech slows his pace down just a little, moaning deeply as your fingers press into his neck. He can't tear his gaze away as you swirl your hips lightly, stroking your clit for all it's worth, just about at your peak. His cock swells yet tighter within you, and you know he's just about to come, too.

“Cyaré, please...”

“Tech, my good boy, I love you,” you gasp, before unleashing a near-scream as your orgasm breaks, writhing in his arms as the waves of pleasure flood your body.

His hands squeeze your thighs hard as he tries to get you under some semblance of control, before he bucks his hips up hard into you a few short times before you feel him swell to maximum within you. He buries his face against your hair as he exhales sharply, deep moans vibrating against you as he starts to come. Crying out his name as you feel him flex hard a few times, he finishes depositing the last of his seed, then immediately starts fucking you again, still riding the highs of his orgasm.

You're caught off guard by this, and your free hand comes back up around his neck to hold on for dear life. Each successive thrust means you're steadily dripping an admixture of fluids all over the floor, but you couldn't care less. Your gaze returns to the mirror, and you watch breathlessly as Tech runs blindly on sheer instinct. You're both bathed in sweat, your hair completely disheveled, and his lenses are starting to slide down his face a little... “Bear down, mésh'la,” Tech chokes out. “I want to see you push that load out.”

“Whatever you want, ner cyaré,” you reply. “Look up, baby, or you might miss it!”

Tech's attention returns to the mirror, a blissful smile on your face awaiting him. He buries his cock deep in you one last time, then quickly lifts you off him as you let your pelvic floor take over, pushing hard as his cock slips out of you. His eyes go wide in amazement as a gush of fluid comes out of you, spattering all over the floor, with some of it managing to hit the mirror, too.

You can't help but let out a gasp when you see what you've done, and then you start to laugh when you catch Tech's expression – he's completely dumbfounded. He starts to sink down to the floor, bringing you with him, carefully setting you down. Looking back at the mirror, you can see the wetness slowly rolling its way down, and you're feeling pretty proud of yourself for rendering Tech speechless. You look over at him and he pushes his lenses back into place, shaking his head a little.

“Cyar'ika... You are absolutely incredible. But I must ask...all of that...that wasn't all mine, was it?”

You grin and shake your head. “No, Tech, it wasn't. A good part of it was all mine. Pretty sure this is the first time you've ever made me do that, too.”

“Beyond fascinating,” he murmurs, tapping his index finger against his cheek. “I think I must explore this a lot more with you, if that's all right.”

You lean over and kiss the corner of his mouth softly, then slip your tongue in for a deep, loving kiss. “Anytime you'd like, Tech. I can't believe everything that's happened tonight, and I must admit, you are quite creative....”

He chuckles softly. “Contrary to popular belief, mésh'la, I do have good ideas from time to time.” Painstakingly, he gets to his feet and braces himself on the back of the couch, momentarily unsure of his ability to not collapse after all that. “Why don't you go fix up your...nest, and I'll clean all this up.”

You do as he asks, rearranging the giant pile of blankets before burying yourself within them. You feel like your entire body is glowing, radiating not just heat, but all of the love you have for Tech. Exhaustion finally sets in, and it's not long before Tech joins you in your nest, pulling you up on him so your head rests on his chest, his arm around you protectively.

“Tech? I want to do game night again some time, if you want,” you murmur sleepily.

“Oh, is that so? Even after all I subjected you to?”

“Mhmm...but next time, I get to pick the game.”

[wild-karrde]

Tech thots??? Pretty plz???

Ok so full disclosure, this has been bouncing around in my head as a Tech/Senna AU for a while, but you know, could be a reader insert as well.

18+ below the cut (MINORS SKEEDADDLE - lingerie, slight lap dance, soft dom Tech, fingering, implied sex)

You pace the bedroom in your apartment one more time. You'd hoped he'd have been here by now, but patience has never been something you excelled at.

Tech had been nothing but the perfect gentlemen in the months you'd been dating, and frankly, you were tired of it. There had been so many lingering moments where you were certain he was about to take you to bed or bend you over his workbench, but every time, you'd left with a throbbing, empty cunt, and he'd appeared oblivious. You knew that, for all of his brains, Tech wasn't good at picking up signals, so you had decided to give him a sign he couldn't possibly miss.

You readjust the forest green garter that's holding up your dark stockings, inspecting yourself in the mirror once more. Matching dark green lace weaves across your curves, tickling your skin and pushing your breasts together, accentuating everything perfectly. You ruffle your hair and inspect your lipstick.

That nerd won't know what hit him, you think smugly.

It's then that you hear the front door hiss open, and your pulse begins to race with anticipation. You slip on your stilettos that you'd set out and slink to the bedroom door, listening quietly. You hear his helmet thunk on the table along with some of his other items. Probably that damn datapad he hardly ever puts down.

"Darling? Are you home?"

You smirk, inhaling deeply and adjusting your garter belt one more time. You open the door.

He has his back to you, peering into your office at the end of the hall. The top half of his armor is off, leaving him in only the black shirt of his undersuit and some of his leg armor, which he's working on, but at the sound of the door, he turns, and his eyes widen behind his goggles.

"Hello you," you sigh. You don't miss the way his throat bobs, his fingers flexing at his sides. You stride towards him confidently, slipping your hands into his and slowly pulling him back towards the living room. His eyes are roving over your form, undoubtedly cataloguing every detail. You wonder if he's recording with his goggles; you'd already thought about that and decided you would be fine with it. Tech would never share something you didn't want him to. You gesture towards the chair you'd pulled to the middle of the room. He obediently sits down, his eyes still roving you, but darkening notably. His fingers drum on his thighs.

You kneel in front of him, your fingers carefully working at the clasps on his leg armor and pouches, sliding them off of him. When you've removed the remainder of it, you stride over to where he has his other armor stacked, bending over to add to the pile. You hear him inhale sharply as your glistening folds are revealed to him.

Knew crotchless panties would get him.

You feign aloofness as you straighten, walking back over to him, straddling one of his thighs and slowly lowering yourself onto him. You pause, watching him carefully.

"Is this something you want?" you ask, ensuring you haven't overstepped or made him uncomfortable.

He swallows hard again, eyes darting to your breasts before struggling to meet your gaze again. "Oh, yes."

You grin, slowly beginning to grind yourself against the taut muscle of his thigh. You feel him flex beneath you, and you reach forward, pulling his hands to your waist. His fingers dig into your skin, and you bite your lip eagerly. You lean forward, nibbling on his earlobe.

"Good, because I thought I was going to have to put a neon sign up in the bedroom to get you in there."

He huffs a laugh, a deep rumble that you feel resonate through his chest. Something's shifted, you can tell, but you're not sure just how or in what direction yet. You readjust so that your back is pressed against his chest, bringing his palms to your waist again as you grind back on him. "Thought you'd never get the hint, so I figured it was time I take charge." You can feel him hardening against the swell of your ass and you smirk.

Too easy.

Suddenly, slender fingers slip around your neck, not applying pressure, but gripping firmly enough that your hips slow. You inhale sharply as arousal courses through you. Tech's other hand slips into your panties, gathering your wetness and teasing your clit. You try to squeeze your thighs together, to force his hand to apply more pressure, but he keeps you firmly in place. You feel his smirk against the skin where your neck meets your shoulder before he gently bites there, undoubtedly leaving a mark only you and he would see.

His breath is warm against your ear, sending goosebumps shooting across your skin. "And what about this makes you think you're in charge, darling?" You shudder, fighting the urge to moan, and he chuckles darkly.

"If you wanted me to take control, all you had to do is ask."

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ! ❞

❝ I HEARD FROM A FRIEND OF A FRIEND, THAT DICK WAS A TEN OUT OF TEN !! ❞

✧ pairing: jjk au sorcerer! suguru geto x sorcerer! reader

✧ summary: geto's routine after a mission -- ingest the curses that he collects before his shower. but after he does, his body begins to burn and ache with lust to the point of pain -- and he can't get rid of the feeling alone. so what else can he do when you show up at his doorstep offering to help but accept it (aka a sex pollen / aphrodisiac curse fic).

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, jjk compliant au, geto stayed a sorcerer and didn't defect, reader is one year younger than geto, (set during jjk s1), aphrodisiac curse (sex pollen), multiple orgasms, multiple positions (missionary, doggy, riding, other positions mentioned: standing, against the wall, spooning from behind, against the wall), masturbation (m), soft dom! geto, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, cervix fucking, panty stealing, squirting, mutual pining, a little angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc), but a lot of comfort, cuddling, gojo hijinks

✧ wc: 8,180

Suguru was only sure of one thing, as he stared at himself in the mirror — cheeks flushed red, sweat nearly soaking through his black t-shirt, and a painful and glaring problem in his boxers—

This was a curse — literally. 

Curses were made up of different negative human emotions — from loneliness to grief to anger, these negative feelings would pool and create a curse. Sorcerers were made to exorcise these curses, and Suguru did so — but in a different way than the others. He had to consume them as part of his technique. And even with the hundreds of curses he’s swallowed over the years, he would never get used to the taste — a shit soaked rag used to clean up vomit was how he could best describe it, but even then, that didn’t come close to the indescribable act of swallowing the manifestation of the worst negative human emotions — at least for most of them. 

The one he had swallowed today was different — he was sent to exorcise a grade 1 curse in the heart of Tokyo that dwelled in an abandoned building — from the inside, he could tell that it was used as a strip club and possibly a bathhouse-turned-brothel, from the seedy mattresses left behind with dirty sheets and mussed covers, with rusting incense burners placed around the room, and the gaudy, fake jewelry that laid strewn about the place — assumedly any real jewelry picked clean. He swore he could have even smelt the ever lingering scent of cheap perfume in the walls and vents. 

But the greater concern was the curse he had found himself with — a grotesque creature that stared back at him — its body a deep maroon, many eyes dotting its back with a large pair of black lips that Suguru didn’t care to draw any closer to. It was more humanoid than most — its form showing a more sophistication than many curses did, muscles of its many arms contracted as it finally spotted Suguru, its many eyes settled their gaze on him. 

It was far too easy for him to take down the curse in hindsight — far too easy — and it seemed to watch him summon curses — and he swore it almost had seen a glimmer of recognition in its eyes and then it allowed him to deal the final blow. 

He had kept the curse on hand — he could swallow it later, when he was near a toilet and perhaps some mouthwash — though that barely did much to remove the taste from his mouth. He had returned to Jujutsu Tech to do his reports, and hopefully head back early — Satoru was out on another overseas mission and Shoko was busy tending to patients and bodies as always, but you— 

He wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to text you. Not after what Satoru said. 

“When are you guys gonna fuck already?” the strongest sorcerer asked, making Suguru choke on his Sprite  — strong in ability, but not in tact, “you and her have been eye fucking for weeks and you had such a thing for her before she decided to move to Kyoto—” 

“That was years ago—” 

“She has a key to your apartment—“ 

“So do you!” he glares. 

“Then what about last night at the bar?” Satoru leans back in his chair, lifting the front legs off the ground, as he pulled his sunglasses down, “you could have murdered the guy that was hitting on her with your look alone — and I think you did when you stuck yourself to her side with your arm around her waist, until he ran with his tail between his legs,” 

If looks could kill, Suguru would have surely murdered his best friend — infinity be damned, “She looked uncomfortable, what was I going to do—” 

“Well, she certainly didn’t look uncomfortable with you hanging all over her, now did she?” He raises an eyebrow, as he leans forward again, the front legs of his chair landing with a thunk, “what are you gonna do if a guy comes along that she falls for? You’re telling me you’re not gonna regret it, Suguru?” Suguru says nothing, unable to meet Satoru’s gaze, as Satoru crushes his own can into a ball, before tossing at Suguru, “You guys just got to hurry up and fuck,” 

Suguru swats the crushed can away, “You’re disgusting,” 

He grins, as his words seemingly only confirm what he assumes, “Disgusting, but correct, and if I’m right, you’re taking some of my missions off my hands,” he grins. 

And Satoru’s words had been running around in Suguru’s head — just like any annoying song on the radio — but he couldn’t let Satoru’s words stop from hanging out with you. He had just gotten you back in his life again — he couldn’t lose you, not again. 

Geto: Are you free to watch a movie and have takeout? 

You: sounds good - did you get back from your mission alright? No injuries I need to yell at you about? 

He snorts, as he types his reply: no, not this time. 

You: Let’s keep it that way! :) 

He bites back his smile as the two of you decide to have you head over in an hour to his place — you preferred it that way since you were still settling into your place, boxes still unwittingly everywhere there should be actual furniture. Last time he came by to pick a report up, he found you eating your meal on a packed box, instead of a table. 

And he catches himself smiling, before his face sours at the thought of Satoru again. 

Satoru was right — and he hated to admit it, his knuckles pressed to his lips. A year under him, you had spent days with him, along with everyone else — you always waited for  him with his favorite snacks when he would return from a mission. You sat with him sometimes when he would get sick from swallowing curses, helping him swallow some water and saltines after he turned his stomach inside out. You were the one that pushed him when he hid his disillusionment from everyone else — even from Satoru. You wouldn’t leave him alone, you wouldn’t stop dogging his every step with snacks and comfort and company, hounding him to sleep, to eat, to say something, anything. 

Until he did — one late night you spent up together — he didn’t sleep much those days anyway.  And he told you everything — the poison seeping from his body, and leeching onto yours, your frown and hurt was the whole reason he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone to begin with. But the frown wasn’t yourself — it was for him, as your arms only curled around him, and he let you hold him the entire night. 

“You don’t always have to pretend to be strong, Suguru. You’re allowed to be upset, you’re allowed to be angry, you’re allowed to grieve — but don’t bottle it up,” your fingers raked through his wet hair, undoing the tangles gently before running the comb through it, “don’t let it kill you from the inside out,” 

“I feel like I did die — along with Amanai,” and you pause, your arms curled around his shoulders, chin resting on his head before you pinched his cheek and he flinched. 

“There, you’re definitely not dead,” you say, “so don’t act like you are. And don’t act like you’re alone — because you’re not. You have me, you have Satoru and Shoko — even Nanami and—“ you voice cuts off at the thought of Haibara — “Haibara wouldn’t want you to hide from us, he looked up to you — more than anyone else, even Satoru,” 

“I don’t know why,” he mutters with a sigh. 

“I do,” your fingers guide his face to meet your gaze, your face an inch or two from his, “because you’re kind, you’re intelligent, and you’re strong,” 

He scoffs, “Satoru is the strongest,” 

“And you think Satoru thinks any differently of you? That any of us feel differently? You’re the only person who can understand him — and he’s the only one who understands you,” 

He gives a small chuckle, “not the only one,” and he tears his eyes away, hoping you don’t see the way his cheeks burned. 

And when he found those two sorcerer girls locked up — you were the one who called. The rage and anger had built into murderous intent, but he could hear your words ringing in his ears and before he knew it, he had called you to come to him. 

You saved them together — Nanako and Mimiko had fallen asleep in your respective laps after all was said and done on the ride back — without much bloodshed (not that the blood that was shed was worth much, in his opinion) — and with Gojo and you smoothing things over with the higher ups (mostly with veiled threats and petty remarks), you managed to allow the twins to grow up safe, under Geto’s care, and your own. 

At least for a time. After you graduated, Nanami left — and you were the only one of your class left — and the absence of your best friends weighed on you, even if you didn’t show it. 

“I’m leaving for Kyoto,” you told him one afternoon the two of you spent lazing around his dorm, you sat against the bottom of his bed, as he lounged on the mattress, his gaze snapping to you, only able to see the back of your head, “this place holds too many memories — i need perspective, I need space from all of this,” 

He wants to ask if you have to, ask you if he could convince you to stay, if he could do something, anything to make you stay — ask if he wasn’t enough to make you stay. But he doesn’t, because it’s the best decision for you. So he instead slips off the bed, sitting beside you, his hand ruffling your hair, “You’ll come to visit right?” 

He knows you’re blinking back tears, but he pretends not to notice, your lip quivering, and god, he knows he wants nothing more than to tilt your gaze toward him by your chin and brush his lips against yours, until every sad thought has evaporated under his touch. 

But he knows that would only be one more thought that would make things far more difficult — for the both of you. It was better this way. And it was. Years had passed, the two of you had become teachers at the Tokyo and Kyoto schools respectively — but as the years had passed, your relationship grew more distant, as it always seemed to with time and distance. 

But then you decided to come back to Tokyo, transferred over — Yaga explaining it was due to all the happenings in Tokyo with the special grades and emergence of Yuji as Sukuna’s vessel — and he found himself in your presence again. And it was as if no time had passed — your days off spent in his apartment — as yours had become a haven of unpacked boxes. And he couldn’t help but wonder — when he’d glance at you in the dark of his living room, the only illumination was the TV that played some shitty horror movie (your words not his) you had put on — if the special grades were the only reason you’d come back. Your fingers were so close to each other’s on the couch, but an inch felt like a ravine. 

One he couldn’t dare to cross. 

But It was fine, just as he told Satoru — you were just friends, until both of you decided otherwise. Not that it would ever happen — no, he thought that ship had sailed, even if his heart had stubbornly said that it hadn’t. 

Until he decided to consume the curse — and his heart was no longer the problem. 

Or at least, not his main problem. 

He sat in his bathroom, towel in the shower rack, ready to shower after he dealt with this. He had discarded his uniform jacket and pants — only in a black t-shirt and boxers. He stood by the toilet — as he learned his lesson the first few months swallowing curses — he never knows when one will turn his stomach inside out. 

He holds the balled curse in his palm — he could feel it squirm just underneath of his cursed energy — the thing keeping it contained at all, itching to be freed from his grasp — though it never would. He pressed the ball to his lips, bracing himself as he opened his mouth, nearly having to unhinge his jaw for how large this curse was and pressing it past his lips and into his mouth. His palms pressed against his mouth, as he swallowed, eyes squeezed shut. 

It…wasn’t as bad as he thought. He frowned, brow knit as he stared at his empty palm — it was still appalling to consume, but it was….sweet? But it burned as it went down, heat remaining in the pit of his stomach, even as it should have faded. 

That should have been his first clue. 

Either way, he turned on the shower before he shed the rest of his clothes, and stepped in. The water felt warmer than usual, as he washed his body first, letting his hair grow wet under the shower head. His fingers reached for the shower handle, turning it even colder, but his body barely reacted to the water — was it even cold? 

Even under the water, he felt like his body was burning — a slow fire that lingered under the surface of his skin, burning and aching, the frigid water barely doing enough to soothe it. Running his hands over his body seemingly helped, a shiver running down his spine as he washed himself, but he knew it would have felt even better if it was you. 

….what? He tried to shake that thought from his head — it wasn’t the first time he had thought of you like this. There were many times where his mind would drift to you at night, the warmth of your touch from a few hours ago still lingered, as his hard-on pleaded for his touch. Guilty gnawed at his conscious when he indulged, the first time being after a particularly vivid dream of you pinning him down while training — your mouth kissing down his body, eager fingers tugging at his shorts until that smirk met—

This wasn’t helping. 

The burning had traveled southward, as his blood did, and he glanced down at his raging hard-on. 

Fuck. 

No, he couldn’t. 

But his fingers were possessed, already reaching for his aching cock, large beads of pre-cum leaving his slit just as hand closed around it. He hisses when he does, a gasp ripped from his throat, as he braces himself against the shower wall with his other hand. 

He palms his erection, swallowing thickly, as he grunts, as he begins to pump his cock from base to tip, smearing his pre along his length. But his mind wanders to you, how pretty you’d look pressed against the wall of his shower, his hard cock dragging between your ass. Lovely moans parting your lips as his fingers would reach around to rub at your puffy clit. 

“Suguru, please—“ 

“Tell me what you want baby, gotta use your words,” he’d murmur, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock. 

“Need your cock — need you to fuck me,” you would whine, words nearly enough to make him bust there and then. And he would sink into you just as he does his fist, but your sweet cunt would feel so much better than his hand does. 

Fucking wet and tight and just for him, as he works his dick deeper and deeper, until his tip is nudging your cervix. And he’d fuck you hard, just like he’s fucking his fist now, skin slapping each time his hips met your ass. 

You’d cum before he would, he would make sure of it — one hand rubbing harshly at your clit, the other toying with one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. And your walls would squeeze and wring him dry, just as he squeezed his own dick now. 

He spilled all over the wall of his shower, white spurts kept coming, as he grunted, imagining he was painting your walls instead. He panted, but as the afterglow ebbed away, the heat only came back tenfold. 

He panted, as his fingers left his cock, only to find it still hard — the tip red and angry, twitching as he stared back at it. 

What the fuck is going on? 

He finally left the shower, pulling on his shirt and boxers delicately — every inch of his body felt feverish and sensitive, even the rubbing of his clothes against his skin was almost too much for him. 

He stood in front of the sink, knuckles white against the porcelain as he tried to will his erection away, but each thought was only chased away with thoughts of you — of the dress you loved to wear riding up, of your legs spreading for him, of the wet patch on your panties— 

He was so fucked. Sweat dripped into the sink, as he glanced at himself in the mirror — skin a ruddy red flush, lips impossibly dry, pupils blown out with need — he was so fucked. 

He called Shoko — the embarrassment of this situation far gone at this point fading into plain need of wanting this situation to be over. One ring, two rings — finally five rings and she picks up. 

“It’s not like you to call—“ 

“I need your help,” he cuts her off, biting back the groan from his cock rubbing against his boxers the wrong way — “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” 

Her voice shifts from curiosity to concern, “Slow down, Suguru, tell me what’s going on,” and he tells her his symptoms — and she’s silent on the other line for a moment, “you have been a teenage boy before right? You’re not really calling me because you’re horny and you don’t know what to do—“ 

“It’s not that—“ he hisses, running a slow hand down his face, “I already tried…solving the problem myself but it didn’t work. And I feel weird — it only made it worse. I can’t stop sweating or thinking about—“ he cuts off — he couldn’t stop lewd thoughts of you from springing before his eyes, the thoughts of your moans, how soft your flesh would be under his fingers, how you’d look when he— “what is this, Shoko?” 

She pauses on the line for a moment, “When did it start?” 

“Right before my shower I think,” his mind foggy with need, he could barely even comprehend a coherent thought. 

“And what did you do before your shower? Anything different?” he’s swallowing the lump in his throat, as he resists the urge to brush his hand over his hard-on. 

He’s barely hearing Shoko at this point — “I took off my clothes, I got my towel, and then I—“ and the realization struck him — the curse, “I consumed the curse I collected today from my mission,” he mutters, “fuck—“ 

And then there’s a knock at the door, “Suguru?” He heard you call through the door. His dick throbs at the sound of your voice. 

Shoko’s voice cuts through the white noise, “Suguru, the curse you ate — was there something different about it?” 

“It was a grade one — it seemed a little too easy to defeat — it formed in—“ he swallows thickly, “in a brothel,” 

“I’ve heard of curses being lustful, but not of them becoming a stimulant,” she murmurs, and he can hear her sigh, “you could try extracting the curse from your body — I doubt that would be effective at this point. I assume the effects will linger until the symptoms pass — just as it does when you become nauseous or sick from swallowing other curses,” 

His phone buzzed with texts from you: 

You: I’m outside, I grabbed takeout for us this time since you always treat me! 

You: are you home? 

His mind swam, it wasn’t the takeout he was craving — it was you. But no, no — he couldn’t. Not like this, but he was fighting a losing battle and he just about lost the war along with it. 

“I don’t know, how do I get it to pass?” he was desperate, the sounds of your knocks and messages ringing in his ear, along with your sweet voice — why do you sound so good with his name on your lips? So sweet — his boxers grow even tighter — bet you even taste even sweeter. 

“If dealing with it yourself didn’t work, then,” she sighs, “you’re going to need a partner,” 

Another knock. 

“Shoko, I have to go,” and he hangs up before she can get another word — a thought to thank her and apologize shoved to the back of his mind, as he stumbles to his door, a thunk as he nearly tumbled into it, wood and hinges groaning under the force and weight. 

“Suguru?” you’re so worried yet his name on your tongue was nearly enough to have him cumming in his boxers then, the wet patch of his boxers nearly making the fabric translucent, “are you okay?” 

He says your name, “You should go home, I’m not feeling well—“ 

“What’s wrong? Do you need help?” And he’s biting his lip, teeth digging into his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood, “let me in,” 

“I can’t—I can’t let you help with this,” he’s shaking his head, “please, sweetheart, you have to go—“ And he hears the clink of your key going into the door — fuck, that goddamn key he gave you, and the door pulls open, just as he braces himself against the doorframe. 

Your brow furrowed in concern, takeout bag in hand, as your eyes examined him, until they found their way to his boxers. 

“Suguru—“ 

“You should leave — I can’t explain, there’s a curse inside me—“ 

Your eyebrows knit together, “Suguru, a curse did this to you? What happened?” And he’s shaking his head, mind far too gone, as he forces himself away, “let me help—“ 

“You can’t help. I have to get out of my system but the only way is—“ he cuts off, as he groans again, body and mind railing against each other, as his body just seemingly burns from even being near you. 

“There must be something—“ and you step closer, and he can barely hold back from grabbing you, fingers twitching to wrap around your waist, the other holding your neck, lips finding yours, as he fucking rips his own clothes off— “I want to help—“ 

He’s tugging at the collar of his shirt incessantly, as you step closer, closing the gap between your bodies, and he can only focus on the way your pretty lips part, the way your chest curves under your shirt, and the far too short shorts you choose to wear — fuck. 

He was so fucked. 

He can’t hold back, as he’s drawing close to you in a moment, his mind clouded with lust, the hitch of your breath only making him want you more — but he forced every muscle in his body to stop.  He couldn’t. Not until you agreed. 

“If you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” he says lowly, his lips nearly brushing your ear, “I want you — regardless of this, I’ve wanted you for so long,” the confession tumbles from his lips because he needs you to know, needs you know so you can either leave him to his fate or help him get through this, “but if you don’t feel the same—“ 

But to his surprise, you lean closer, breath warming his skin until it was left scalding, “who said I didn’t?” 

And he can’t hold back. 

His lips crash to yours, his hands holding your cheeks, as he grasps desperately to you, takeout boxes spilling from the plastic bag and your purse spilling your things when you drop it, your fingers grasping at his damp t-shirt. 

And your touch alone even through the fabric is nearly enough to make him bust a nut there and then — and his mind hadn’t even felt so clear until he felt your touch. He could notice every little detail about you — the way your breath caught when his fingers ghosted down your sides, the way your lips parted for his tongue without hesitation, and the way your knees shook when he squeezed your hips. 

“So pliant for me,” he murmurs, eager to touch more, to taste more, “such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?” 

And you’re nodding wordlessly — lips kiss ruined and red, saliva clinging to your lips when he parted from your lips — and he wonders which one of you swallowed a glorified sex curse. 

“Know how long I wanted to do this?” words said pressed with heated kisses down your neck — he was right, you tasted so sweet, he bet another part of you tasted even sweeter — “how many times I thought about this?” He nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, rewarded with a pretty gasp, “wanted to mark you up so many times — when that fucker tried to hit on you — I wanted to do more than just wrap my arm around you. Wanted to show him how he could never please you,” and he’s sucking a mark there, teeth grazing and pinching your skin before he soothes it with his tongue. He smiles against your skin, as he admires his handiwork. 

You whine when he drags a thumb down your puffy lips, “Sugu, please, more,” and his lips find yours again, swallowing your complaints and moans eagerly, as his large palms slide down your back to rest on your ass, squeezing as he presses you flush to his body, hard on pressed against your body. 

“Need my touch that much, Princess? Should’ve just fucked you in that club, huh? Let them see that you’re mine,”  And he’s walking you backwards towards his room, as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor of his living room. Your fingers running over his exposed flesh, thumbs teasing his sensitive nipples, pretty little lips pressing teasing kisses to both sides. 

Fuck, the need to bury his cock in you grew by the second. But he wanted to feel good first — been waiting too long. He had all night to fuck you — but he only had one time to do it right the first time. 

He’s walking you into the edge of his bed, as you both tumble onto the bed, his hands sliding under your shirt, tugging at the hem, and you help him take it off — and he hissed at the sight of nothing underneath. 

“Were you always coming to my place with no bra on?” his lips curl, as your eyes look away, embarrassment painted on your expression, “wanted this as long as I did, Princess? Don’t get so shy now — you’re the one who insisted on helping me, so aren’t you going to fulfill your promise?” His lips brush against your earlobe, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly. 

You shiver, biting your lip, before you’re tugging him fully onto the bed, before slinking off of it and onto your knees for him, “Then let me help you,”

When your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, he’s ready to cum right there — he’s so sensitive still, he’s sure he won’t last long, but fuck, he doesn’t care with how pretty you look between his legs. 

“Don’t be a tease, Princess, or I’ll pay you back later,” but your lips only curl, as you lean forward and press a kiss through the drenched fabric, tip of your tongue teasing his slit through his boxers.

“Oh I expect you to,” and you’re pulling his boxers down painfully slowly, letting the fabric of his boxers rub against his hard-on teasingly, a low hiss leaving the thin line of his lips, his balls aching with his release as his cock slaps against his stomach, “fuck, Sugu,” you murmur in almost reverence — he was thick, the tip flushed red with lovely beads of pre-cum already dripping down his length, your fingers already eager to trace those pretty veins, and feel the slight curve of his cock in your aching cunt, “how am I gonna fit you all in me?” 

And his cock twitches at your words, as you pity him with a chaste kiss to the top, “Please,” he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, fingers knuckles white as they fisted the now creased sheets, “fuck—“ as you blow air along his length, “I’ll cum all over your face at this rate,” 

“Oh I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sugu?” your point finger lightly follows the trail of his vein, as your lips continue to press butterfly kisses along his length, “paint my face with your cum,” 

And his fingers thread themselves in your hair, pressing his length to your lips, and you smirk, looking up at him with half lidded gaze, as your lips part and his length slides in — that’s all it takes. 

The coil in his stomach snaps, as he cums down your throat, hot seed spilling into your mouth, as his hips jerk against your mouth, his groans of your name sending a hot stripe of heat down to your cunt. 

Despite that, his cock only seems to grow larger, twitching against your tongue, as you part for a moment, a trail of saliva and cum dripping from your lips, “Taste so good, Sugu — gotta have you one more time—“ you envelop him with your lips again — and he’s a mess of moans, head thrown back, thick haze of lust as his eyes finally meet yours. You swallow around him, tongue wrapped around his length, as your sinful fingers touch whatever can’t fit in your mouth. 

“S’good baby, should’ve fucked this mouth a long time ago,” and he’s gone, as his hips begin to slowly roll against you, watching as you don’t resist, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, “good fucking girl, never gonna go a day without these lips around my cock,” and god, he’s so close — twitching in your mouth, but what sends him over the edge is when he feels you moan, and spots your hand down your shorts. 

Fuck, he’s pulling out, “can I—“ and you pump him in response, a grunt of your name as you let him cum all over your face and chest, the sight enough to make him hard all over again — his thick release slipping down your lips, as your tongue darts out to taste it again. 

And he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting his own cum on your lips, before grabbing his discarded shirt to clean you off. His hand grabs your wrist and eases it from inside your cunt, tongue darting out to lick the release from your fingers, cleaning each of them. 

In an instant, he’s got you spread on his bed, legs parted for him, “where’s that attitude now, pretty?” And his lithe fingers sneak under the elastic of your panties and snaps it against your skin, making you squirm, “seems like all those words fell out of your head just from sucking my cock,” 

He’s slowly dragging your underwear down, before pulling at his bedside drawer to stuff your panties in, “for later use,” and you can’t managed a reply before his lips are pressing butterfly kisses up your thighs, before his teeth graze the soft flesh of your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, before sucking and soothing it with his tongue, “mine, all mine,” he’s already hard again — the feel of your soft skin under his lips was enough to have him cumming again like a virgin — the burning in the pit of his stomach only burned brighter for you — god, would he ever work his way out of this state? But as his gaze was met with your lovely dripping cunt with your puffy clit begging him for attention, he couldn’t seem to care. 

You hiss when his fingers slowly spread your folds, “So fucking tight, baby, how am I gonna fit in you?” he clicks his tongue, inhaling, as his nose brushes against your clit, making your hips jump, “patience, gotta take my time with this princess cunt, gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” his dick twitching at his next sentence, “because I sink my cock in here, we’re not stopping at one round,” 

Your cunt squeezes around nothing at his words, his breath warming your sensitive pussy, until he finally drags a stripe up your needy folds. 

“Sugu, fuck,” his arms brace your thighs and hips down, as the tip of his tongue drags teasing circles around your clit, your slick gathering on his tongue, as he tastes it with a groan. 

“Fucking, the best thing I’ve tasted,” and as much as he wants to bury his dick in you, he could live with his face between your thighs, “so perfect f’me,” and his tongue trails in tight circles around your clit, while his finger toys with your entrance, gathering your pre on his finger, teasing your entrance and delighting in the way your breath hitches. 

He looks up at your face between half lidded eyes, you’re too fucking pretty — your hair a mess from, a sheen of sweat on your body, the lovely way your nipples were erect, and your eyes — pupils lost to lust and need. And all for him. 

Fuck, he knows he won’t last long at this rate, he can already feel the urge to palm his raging cock, but he wants you to cum first, and he’s sinking a finger into your sweet cunt. He can almost imagine how your walls would feel fluttering around his cock — but he doubts his engorged tip would be even fit right now. 

No, he needed to make this good for you — he slowly starts to finger fuck you as his tongue circles your clit in tighter circles, even sucking on it, and by the way your fingers grasped at the sheets, crumpling under your touch — you liked it. 

Pretty moans left your lips, as your fingers found their way to his dark locks, still slightly damp from his shower — as he added a second finger inside. His name said between pants, as his fingers drag against your molten insides — the wet squelch rang in his ears as he fucked your cunt open. Knuckle deep in your sweet pussy, he knows he’s addicted — to the feeling of your molasses insides — warm and soft for him, his digits curling against your walls, looking for that one place that would make you fall apart. 

“Sugu, please, please ‘m close—,” and he knows you need a little more, and he’s obliging with a chuckle, a third finger joining the other two, and he’s fucking you in earnest now — lips closing around your clit and sucking mercilessly, as his fingers find that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. Your back arches, as your nails dig into his scalp, as you cum around his fingers — walls fluttering as he eats you out through your high, his name leaving your lips again and again, as you slowly come down from your high, thighs twitching and chest heaving as you do. 

As he finally pulls away, his chin and mouth glossy and drenched in a mixture of your cum and his spit — that he licks clean from where his tongue can reach, fingers collecting the rest, as he looks at your sticky cum gathered on his fingers. 

Fuck, he could live in your cunt. Your sweet taste was the only thing he’d crave now after consuming curses — he wondered if you’d let him eat you out for hours after the curses he ate — he was sure your taste was the only thing that would erase that disgusting like nothing else ever would. 

He’s giving you soft kisses after, dotting them up your body, murmuring praises, but you’re pulling him into a kiss, your fingers resting against the back of his neck, as your other hand finds his aching erection, swallowing his gasp with pleasure. 

“Want you, Sugu, please,” and your words are enough to make him cum right there, as he tugs your hand away, “Sugu—” 

“Won’t last long if you keep touching me and whining like that, Princess,” the heat only seems to lick at his skin like flames, engulfing him with every touch, and his cock was the epicenter of the wildfire, while you were the fuel that only made it consume you both to ash, “but I know it won’t be long until I’m fucking you again anyway,” Your cunt throbs at his words, as he draws close, dragging his weeping tip against your folds, watching his pre-cum smear against your slick with a grunt, “feels like you’re already trying to swallow me up, princess — you want this cock that bad?” fuck, he can’t hold back anymore, as he’s lining up himself up, and he’s sliding right into you with a groan, “know how long been waiting to do that?” his skin meeting yours as he bottoms out deliciously, stretching your walls out with his girth, pleasure ripping up your spine, “wanted to do this since the moment you walked through the door, but needed to do this right — when nothing about this was right,” he had so many things to say, while your mind had left you with not even a syllable, his cock twitched and pulsed inside your walls, dragging against it deliciously, “wish our first time wasn’t like this — but I’m so glad it’s finally happened, sweetheart,” 

And you can’t help but smile up at him, lips parted with a small moan, as tears burned at your eyes from his size, “Me too, Sugu, wanted you for so long, needed you—” and he’s kissing your tears and words away with his lips, 

Then he begins to fuck you — hard, the slapping of your skin and the wet squelch of your sex filling up most of the silence of the room, while both of your moans and grunts took up the rest. Your cunt was heaven to him — warm, wet walls wrapped around his aching cock — the slightest bit of relief was overcome with waves and waves of need — he needed to fuck you, needed to make you cum, needed to cum inside — he just needed you. 

“S’big, Sugu, too big,” you whine, he was almost too much for you, the way his dick fucked places you only could imagine reaching, as his mouth leaned down to take a pert nipple between his lips — sucking and licking, as he couldn’t have enough of you, while his hand toyed with the other, “feels too good,” 

“I know baby, gonna fuck your princess cunt so good — make sure its made just for me,” he’s murmuring, as his teeth graze your tit, as he pistons into you again and again, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix with each thrust, “all mine, baby, fuck — such a good girl for me,” and the praise has you keening against him, the knowing flutter of your cunt that tells him you’re all too close to the edge, as his hand reaches between your bodies to rub at your clit, “cum for me, pretty, need to feel your pretty little cunt squeeze me,” 

And you do, falling apart as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again — fuck, you felt so good, as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release forming around his base. He’s fucking close too — can feel his balls tense, eager to blow his load, “where—” 

You’re still moaning, eyes blown out in pleasure, as you watch him fuck you again and again, “Inside, Sugu, fill me up,” and that’s it, he’s gone — spurting his hot release, painting your walls, as he does, fucking it inside you — deeper, deeper, until he stills for a moment. And you’re twitching, eyes fluttering shut, when he pulls out, a groan parting his lips as he watches his seed spill from your cunt. 

But then silence for several moments, the soft pants of your breathing only, before you hear him swearing and grunting, as your eyes open, and your pussy twitches at the sight before you. Suguru’s hand slid up and down his still erect cock, his eyes squeezed shut, as he groaned, “Suguru—” 

“Wasn’t enough, need more,” he’s shaking his head, as his fingers squeeze around the base of his cock, “thought it would be enough to cum with you, but I can still feel it—” and he’s groaning, as you sit up, watching your mixed releases drip from you, “baby—” 

And your lips kiss the tip of his weeping cock, “I told I’d help you,” and you ease his hand away, as you lick up his length, your eyes fixed on his, “just because we fucked, doesn’t mean we’re done,” 

And in a moment, he’s got you flipped onto your hands and knees, as his cock slaps against your ass, his fingers squeezing the flesh, as he leans over to kiss your back, “Then I guess we’re gonna be up all night, sweetheart, because if you’re okay with this — I don’t think I’ll be satisfied with just a blowjob,” his tip drags against your messy cunt, “gonna need something a little tighter than your mouth,” and he’s sinking his thick cock into you again, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to fuck you, “better cancel any plans you have, pretty — because we’re not leaving this bed for a while.” 

“Don’t fall asleep on me, baby,” his fingers grab your chin, and force you to meet his gaze, as he fucks into you, as you sit on his lap, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, “almost gonna cum, and don’t want you to be asleep for it,” 

How many times had you fucked? You had lost count — but you knew you had done it in far too many positions — on your hands and knees, standing up, against the wall, from behind with his hand gripping your leg up, and far too many others — and now you were spread in his lap, cock deep in your pulsing pussy, his lips kissing your neck, as he fucked into you, his dick reaching a deeper angle from this position, easily able to hit the furthest parts of you. 

He had cum in you more than you thought was humanly possible — and you supposed it wasn’t — it was only the curse that enabled this — it was animalistic even, the way he rutted into you desperately. He grabbed a water bottle only to take a swig, and find your lips again, forcing you to swallow the water. 

“Good girl,” he’s grunting, his hips beginning to stutter, “I’m close baby, are you?” You hadn’t thought it was still possible to feel pleasure at this point, but it was — his cock dragged against your walls, his dark gaze finding yours, “tell me you wanna cum,” and your pussy twitches at his order, “use your words, pretty, or have I fucked them all out?” 

“Please, Suguru, I wanna cum on your cock,” and you’re so fucking close again — the all too familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap any moment. 

“Fuck, greedy pussy hasn’t enough of me? We’ve been fucking until the daylight now,” as his hand grabs your chin to make you see the first rays of light peaking over the horizon, and he’s making you bounce on him with each thrust of his dick — your orgasm building and building with every brush of his tip against your g-spot, “fuck, s’good for me, baby — been so good — just need one more and we can stop,” and tears stream down your cheek that only make him groan, his lips finding yours in a messy, sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth right as his cock hits at the deepest part of you— 

And you squirt all over him, drenching his cock and lap as you cum, your lips parting from him, as your head is thrown back, boneless, as he fucks into you, your spasming walls pulling him over the edge as he paints your insides with his release, fucking it into you, until he finally slows, your body draped on his, head resting on his shoulder. Bodies sticky with sweat and cum, his cock finally softens inside you, the heat finally beginning to dull, as he presses soft kisses and gentle caresses to every inch of your skin, as he lays you down carefully, pulling himself from you. 

“Thank you, princess, thank you,” and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck, soft breaths cooling the sheen of sweat on his skin, “did so good for me,” and he slowly rises, grabbing his shirt and running it under water to clean you off, if only a little. 

You’re already half asleep, eyes only fluttering half open to watch him, and he can’t help but bite his lip,  “Sugu?” 

“Yes, princess?” And you nod, fingers twitching for him, and his lips curl as he obliges, wrapping you up in his body, “know it was rough on you baby, I’ll make it up to you — don’t worry, just rest,” he grabs a water bottle, and lifts your head ever so slightly and helps you drink some water. 

“I know you want to ask me something,” and he pauses, as he pulls the bottle away, “I can see the gears grinding in your head — you can ask me anything, y’know,” you had quite the way of embarrassing him, didn’t you? 

“I know, I just,” he swallowed, “was there any other reason you came back to Tokyo, aside from the threats, did you come back for anything else?” 

And your lips curl, raising an eyebrow knowingly, “Anything or anyone you mean?” and you chuckle when his eyes can’t meet yours, your fingers finding his again, “baby,” and your hand brushes against his cheek, tracing the cut of his jaw, making his breath catch, “I did come back for someone — a very particular someone,” and he smiles, as your lips lean up to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “and my friends, of course,” you add, “I love Utahime, but I missed Shoko and Satoru, and you,” 

“You did?” he murmurs, and you giggle, kissing him again, melting into his touch again, as your foreheads brushed against the other’s, “Sugu?” and it’s your turn to ask something now, chewing on your bottom lip, “can we do this again?” you murmur, before adding, “not like this but—“ 

And he laughs, pulling you impossibly closer, lips finding your leaping pulse, “Yes, we can, if you want to — because I know I do, because,” his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “but I want all of you — want your body, your thoughts, your time, your heart and soul—“ and his lips quirk at the sight of your eyes widening ever so slightly, “is that okay?” 

And your lips find his own as an answer, sweet kisses turn languid, heat stealing any doubts from either of your minds, “As long I have yours as well,” and the two of you share only a few more kisses, before you both finally drift off. 

“If he’s fine, and I’m checking on him, I’m kicking his ass,” Satoru grumbled, as he held his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, Shoko sighing as he rooted through his pockets for his keys. 

Shoko chewed her lip, she hadn’t heard from him in hours, “He was in bad shape, I can't find the time to go check and you were on your way home anyway,” Shoko says, wiping her brow, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers. 

“Yeah, on my way home back from a mission,” he finally finds his keys, sticking Suguru’s spare key into the lock and turning it, “If I have jet lag, and all I find is him jerked off and sleeping, you owe me,” 

He twists the knob, and looks — he doesn’t see Suguru in the living room or kitchen — but he does see takeout containers spilled on the floor, along with a very familiar bag, and he blinks, before his lips curl. He asks if she’s heard from you, to which she says no, 

He walks silently to Suguru’s bedroom, opening the door a crack to see you and Suguru curled up against each other, your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you, the comforter strewn about and covering the rest of your bodies. 

Satoru only grins, before he pulls his phone from his ear and switches to the camera. 

“Never mind, Shoko, I owe you one,” and he snaps a picture of the two of you, wondering how many missions he could pawn off to Suguru now, “I’ll treat you to lunch.” 

✧ a/n: so this turned out way longer than i thought (story of my life). i had so much fun writing this - i've been writing this in conjunction with prof geto part 3 and its been funny darting back and forth between these two -- although the scenes i've been writing

✧ taglist: @peachyminx, @garfunklefield, @unicornqueen05, @hiyori-ii, @equikaz, @unoriginalidea, @forest-fruits-jam, @torusinfinity, @hellkaiserinphoenix, @loonimae, @gojoedd, @sugurufic, @glaceliy, @telvess, @kentocalls, @nayasch, @iluvvreze, @yamaguccitadashi, @faeismism, @hanxyy, @catsgomurp, @sukaibg, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @gojorgeous, @getos-slvtt, @sirencholia, @teatreeoilll, @dewdropdive, @appysauc, @kobycetacean, @missroki, @fushitoru, @pricetagofficial, @that-goth-bisexual, @shoyosdoll, @regrettinglifechoices, @mostinsanegirl, @roseybean, @fayyyrieee, @gojobbg, @strangehuman101, @saccharine-nectarine, @i-belong-in-a-retirement-home, @spider-fan72

[tteokdoroki]

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. a woman in uniform.

about. satoru let’s you try his uniform on in the bedroom and loses his fucking mind. not even the strongest sorcerer can resist a woman in uniform.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, power play, pussy jobs, oral sex ( m!receiving ), clothed sex, blind folds, some slight sub/dom dynamics, fem!reader. i wrote this with my clit tbh.

i think that gojo goes feral for you wearing his uniform. the whole get up, the blind fold and the jujutsu tech jacket. he’ll try to fight it, the feeling of power slipping away, as you crawl up the bed and between his thighs — your tongue dragging over your lips.

“oh, you shakin’ satoru?” he can see the excitement dancing around in your eyes even through the fabric covering them. he can sense the flare in your energy as you loom over him, ranking your nails down creamy washboard abs while his infinity fizzles away. “poor you. it’s not fun to be on the receiving end, is it?”

if satoru really wanted to, he would flip the situation in an instant — have you pinned to the bed with your clothes askew and your mouth hanging open in breathy whines as you beg for him to touch you. but he doesn’t. he can’t. you have so much power over him when you’re dressed like that and you act like you’re the strongest one in the room. you both know that he has the power to end your free rein over his body.

he is the strongest after all.

your mouth is quick to follow your nails, teeth and tongue trailing a wet path from gojo’s prominent collar bones, between his firm pecs and down his tense stomach. you suck hickies into the bone of his slender hips, shades of mauve and navy-ish blue blooming against pale skin like adding water colours to a blank canvas. satoru inhales sharply, losing control of his invisible barrier just so he can savour the feeling of you ravishing his body with nips and sucks and kisses.

you haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.

“lift your hips, satoru, let me see what you’ve got under all this,” you coo sweetly and it’s as if you’re drizzling honey in his ears. the white haired man follows your command like it’s the law, instinctively bucking up and away from the bed so you can pull down his boxers. “how sweet, you’re so hard.” satoru’s cock springs free from its restraints, sticky and bright red at the tip, pulsing and thick at the shaft. when you touch him and take hold of his length in your tiny hand, kitten licking the entirety of him while you look up at him hungrily through your blindfold… the man is sure he might die. you could kill him like this, with his infinity down…and you’re fully aware of it.

teasingly, you ease his cockhead past the seam of your kiss swollen lips and let it nudge the soft epithelium on the inside of your cheek — lubing him up, getting him ready for more of your torture. “should i suck you off? or should i ride you?” you manage, even though your mouth is full of dick…the next, your nose is buried in a trail of soft white pubic hair.

“don’t do that… please…” satoru whines, chest flushed and heaving, brilliant blue eyes boring deep into your soul. his fists form balls at the sides of his shaky legs, he could reach out and touch you — coax you into giving him more. it’s not like he has any restraints on…except for the metaphorical ones of your will and your control. you let go of him with a lewd pop, a trail of your saliva mixed with milky precum tying you to his sensitive erection. “f-fuck…”

cocking your head to the side, you use a soiled thumb and forefinger to lift the black hand over one of your dangerously pretty and mirth-filled eyes. “do what?” you respond with an inquisitive purr, licking your lips and moaning at the taste of the six eyes on them.

“s-shit,” satoru curses, blood curdling and boiling hot lust spreading through all four of his limbs at the sight. “don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing to me…don’t act like you don’t know how feral i am for you…” saliva pools on the pallets of his tongue, slipping in between the sorcerer’s words as you move like a vixen in the woods above him — sliding yourself into gojo’s lap to position yourself perfectly above his aching cock. “don’t—“

gojo chokes on a moan as you begin circling your hips, plush and puffy pussy lips sucking in the length of his cock whilst it lays flat against his tummy. if he focuses his mind enough, pushes through the dark veil of lust you’ve pulled over his mind that works in overdrive, he can just about see his bulbous, leaky tip peeking out from underneath the folds of his dark uniform — the uniform that’s draped so perfectly over the curve of your mouth-watering body. a deep groan anchors itself in gojo’s chest like the roots of a sturdy oak tree and his hands leap up from the bedsheets to grip your peachy ass barely hidden by his clothes.

“don’t this, don’t that,” you hum condescendingly, as you alternate the movement of your hips — dragging them back and forth, back and forth over your lover’s pathetically wet dick. you make sure to clench your slick hole every time it meets his tip, glazing him in a small stream of your arousal. “don’t you know how to shut up ‘n take it, satoru?”

the dominance in your voice has the white haired man in shambles, twitching beneath the weight of your body on his. for christs sake, he’s the strongest, he brings curses and sorcerer alike to their knees just by mention of his name. so why is he so weakened by the sight of you above him? by the sight of you in his clothes, grinding sloppily on his wet cock? gojo doesn’t want infinity projecting him, not when he occasionally slips inside of your welcoming, tight cunt when you thrust yourself down on him.

“g-god…baby, please!” he hiccups, fighting the urge to force you down onto him fully — bully his way into your squishy insides. satoru could do anything he wanted to you, in a single moment he could have you sniffling against the sheets and crying as much as your cunt does…but the way you rein him in just by wearing his clothes stops him.

“what’s the matter, handsome? you cryin’?”

at your teasing, the cream that oozes from his sensitive tip paints your clit adds to your gathering arousal as it soaks through satoru’s uniform. nastily, he doesn’t think he’ll wash it, he wants the memories of tonight to stay with him forever. he wants to remember how you took over him and took his every capability in using his power — reducing the satoru gojo to a pussy drunk fool.

the scent of your sex is the only way he can think to immortalise this moment.

“i can… i can take it. give it t’me, want everythin’ you’ve got,” satoru simpers eagerly over the lewd, sticky pap, pap, pap of your sexes meeting in a salacious bump and grind. he has no idea where to look — intimidated by the control that oozes off of you, the control that he gives you. if he stares at your bouncing breasts beneath his jujutsu tech jacket or your clenching cunt for too long, he might just bust all over you and his inform before he even has the chance to be inside of you.

light laughter escapes you at gojo’s babyish bleats and whimpers — so you lift the blindfold once more, lips spreading into a slow and sexy smirk, much like the kind he would tease you with. “i don’t think you can handle my everything, baby.”

and you’d be right. not even the strongest sorcerer in japan could handle his woman in his uniform.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Aggravating

Dad Bod!Miguel x Spider-Woman!Reader

TW/CW: Smut. Smut in general. NSFW, PIV sex, office sex, teeth, hints at venom useage, a bit of pining(?) feelings! Body hair! Soft tummy Miguel! Dom(ish)!Miguel, a bit of bullying

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Blame @cupcakeinat0r for this. I really needed the distraction and our conversation is helping me a bit getting the creative among other things juices flowing!

Taglist: @tojishugetiddies

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You had been... less than covert about the way you ogled your boss. On one hand, your Spidey mask was useful for hiding your eyes and face away from somebody's view; on the other hand, Miguel just somehow knew you were staring at him.

And... yeah. At first you were crushing on him, a young, single fresh-faced Spidey welcomed into a bigger picture suddenly comes face to face with the body of a Greek god. He swooped in to save you from a variant of Kraven before he could make a possibly fatal swipe.

After that, he admitted that he'd had an eye on you, such a promising candidate who just needed the right amount of guidance.

(The fact he has that gorgeous jawline and cheekbones that could cut glass plus those jaw-dropping eyes of his certainly helped you make your decision too.)

But you had been too much of a wimp to ever fess up, instead settling for pining in silence, throwing the occasional stare his way at his perfectly globed ass. (Seriously, did he purposefully design his suit to accentuate his ass or what?)

But the plain, flat-out ogling didn't begin until he began to gain more weight. Realizing his stress didn't have to be solely on his own shoulders, Miguel began to relax. He began to eat more, sleep more. Or, well, as much as a normal person should be eating and sleeping. You surmised he was likely dehydrated a lot, too...

Because once he picked up a steady diet (of what you didn't know, maybe he was a secret chef in the kitchen in addition to having the multiverse's greatest brain?) he began to look... healthier.

He gained weight, his formerly slim and perfectly cut abs and waistline began to fatten out, gain a delicious softness you wished to just lay your head over, or perhaps snuggle and squeeze.

Peter B made a joke to Miguel about comparing "dad bods" and god, when Miguel indulged him (mostly just to get him to leave him alone) he used his tech to have the top half of his suit vanish in rainbowy spiderweb-like patterns until he was naked from the waist up.

And... fuck. Your legs went weak at the sight of him.

Dark wisps of hair across his chest, spreading down his soft, plush-looking midsection to disappear beneath the waistline of his pants.

Even with that soft belly, Miguel looked built like a shitbrick house. Peter B had pouted, knowing he'd lost his little game before sauntering away, bragging about something along the lines of "well at least I have the prettiest baby mama in the whole multiverse!". Good for him, you had thought.

But very quickly as your eyes greedily raked up his frame, you realized he had been staring right back at you.

You very quickly rattled off some excuse and dropped off your report on your most recent mission, yanked your mask back down your face and scurried out of there.

Though you'd be lying if you didn't immediately shove your hand down your pants once you got home, playing with yourself at the mere thought of being pressed up against Miguel's soft-yet-imposing frame; feeling his dick (oh you just knew he was packing a monster, down there) stuff you full and stretch you out, the coarse dark haira brushing your clit with every slam of his hips.

You went to sleep thinking this was merely some kind of office crush, trying to force down the thoughts you had of your boss.

Little did you know, he often stole his own glances at you.

He needed to find a way to solve your little problems, soon.

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"This is what you wanted, isn't it, princesa?" Miguel grunted, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass sinfully loud in his dark office.

Your body was perfectly illuminated by the dim orange lights on his monitors; every curve, dip and deliciously squeezable part of your jiggling ass as he fucked you.

The sounds your pussy made as you swallowed him deep were the most lewd you ever could have imagined yourself making, especially the little sounds coming from those pretty lips of yours.

Your suit has been torn right between your legs, freeing your soaked, swollen folds to his lascivious gaze before he had crammed two heavy fingers into your needy cunt.

Your tits squished against his desktop, and a whimper comes from you when he settles over you, the weight of his body pressing tighter down around you.

You could feel the soft flesh of his belly mold around your back, almost like a hug. Almost like how he had your head trapped in a headlock as he bullied his cock into you and stuffed you full of him.

Your brain was so set on your one-track focus of how good it felt to just have him fuck you, to use you, that you barely registered a word he said.

Having his warmth surround you and fill you had effectively rendered you dumb.

You choked slightly when you heard him hiss in your ear, his sharp fangs grazing the soft skin; he squeezed his arm a bit around your neck and that's what knocked you back into reality.

You were here. In his office, bent over and having your guts reorganized by a man you had been pining for for months.

The pent up sexual tension had finally exploded when he confessed his own interest in you, and he met you halfway with a kiss that was all tongue and need; loud and messy.

Like how he was bullying his cock into your tight little hole.

"My dick that good, bebé?" He panted, leaning back away from you to grip your hips in his meaty palms, squeezing your soft flesh as he stared, almost mesmerized at the creamy ring at the base of his cock as it disappeared into your dripping wet pussy.

Already on the floor between you was a small puddle of your slick.

"So good that I fucked you stupid after just a couple thrusts?" He said, his voice gravelly as he tried to keep it even, to betray the fact he wanted to just rut into you like a mad animal.

All you could do in reply was whine, a breathy sound that was almost a squeak as you mourned the loss of his soft body surrounding you.

The sound of him relentlessly fucking you cunt was abruptly halted and he let out a shaky breath, staring down at you. "I swear... did I nick you with my fangs? Shit... Maybe we should stop--"

"N-no!" You moaned out, desperately trying to roll yourself back against him in his grip. "Please, don't! I just--I just need more!"

Miguel grinned as you flattened your hands on the table, desperately trying to fuck yourself onto his cock but getting nowhere.

"Ahhh there's my good girl. Doing so good f'me." He purred, leaning back over you once again, his arms caging around you, encasing you in his wonderfully soft warmth, the hair on his body tickling your skin.

His lips traced the shell of your ear, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty skin;

"Wanna watch you take my cock all day. Gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a month--"

You made a long, loud mewl as he snapped his hips in suddenly, bottoming out so hard you felt him smash into your cervix; almost making you pass out from the force of it alone.

"This is what you wanted, sweetheart. Jus' giving it all t'you." He groaned, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he began relentlessly pounding into you once again.

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Summary: Life is soooo hard being a spoiled little housewife, sometimes all you need is for Rafe to think for you. 18+MDNI!!

Warnings: Daddy kink!, cockwarming, body worship, dom/sub dynamics, mostly fluff? (Idk being soft is not my strong suit be nice to me) also you can thank @strangerstilinski for putting the image of Rafe playing w your hair while you cockwarm him in my head.

Today was hard. By your standards at least. It felt like every single little thing was going wrong. First your nail tech made your nails too squared off, then your hair appointment got canceled. You went to the mall to try to get the new shoes you’ve been lusting after but they didn’t have your size even though it said they did online. Starbucks made your coffee wrong and to top it all off you stopped at the store to get stuff to bake Rafe cookies and you fucking burned them. It didn’t help that you were about to get your period so you felt extra needy and Rafe wasn’t even here to take care of you because he had to work late.

You feel like a huge baby sitting in the edge of you and Rafe’s plush bed, pouting over such minuscule things. But it isn’t your fault Rafe conditioned you to get whatever you want, whenever you want. Plus you wanted to do something for yourself today, usually he drives you around on maintenance and shopping days but you thought it might be fun to go on your own. Apparently not. So after the commotion with the cookies and the smoke alarm you decided to just sit down and wait for Rafe. He was all you wanted right now. When you hear the front door open your entire body practically perks up, just knowing he was home eased the tension in your body some immediately.

“Baby? Where are you?” Rafe calls out to you as you hear his expensive loafers against the carpet. He rounds the corner into the room and sees you sitting on the bed with your pretty little eyes brimmed with tears and your sparkly glossed lips set into a pout as they wobble. “Hey, sweet girl, what’s going on?”

“Daddy - I -“ your sentence is cut off by a whimper as the tears in your eyes start to stream down your cheeks. He rushes towards you, taking your face in his hands, running his thumbs under your eyes to keep your mascara from staining your face.

“Shhh, it’s okay baby, daddy’s got you, I’m gonna take care of you, okay? C’mere.” He leans down and presses a gentle kiss on your lips before crouching down on one knee so he can take your little pink heels off your feet. He runs the tips of his fingers along your ankles before pressing his lips against the inside of each one. He stands again, taking your hands in his so he can softly pull you to your feet. “My girl just had a long day, huh? Need me to think for you?”

“Mhm.” You let out a sigh as he presses his lips to your shoulder, he pushes the strap of your little tank top down before kissing across your collar bones, his lips touching every inch they can.

“Use your words, Princess.” He mumbles against your skin as he starts to kiss up your neck, leaving soft nibbles and gently sucking on the skin.

“Yes, daddy, need you to take care of me. Don’t wanna think anymore. Please.” You whine.

“Alright, don’t gotta beg, baby. I’ve got you.”

His finger tips caress the skin underneath your shirt as he grabs onto the hem and pulls it over your head. His hand comes around your back to undo your bra and he places wet open mouthed kisses on each of your nipples. Rafe takes his time unzipping your skirt, and pushing it off your hips, his lips grazing over and sucking on any skin they can reach as he undresses you with such tenderness. Once you’re finally bare before him one of his large hands cups your face while the other grips onto your hip, pulling your lips to his.

“Look at you, my perfect girl, so beautiful.” He pulls his shirt over his head and grabs you by the hips as he walks backwards towards the bed, using his grip to maneuver you so that you’re straddling his lap. “What do you want, hmm?”

“Just want you. I don’t know.” You pout up and him and he chuckles slightly, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Alright baby, how about you sit on my cock and just let me hold you for a while, huh? How’s that sound?” He smooths down your hair as he smiles sweetly at you.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” You hum and Rafe wraps one of his thick arms around your hips to maneuver you so that he can use his free hand to pull his pants down enough to free his cock. He’s already hard, it doesn’t take much more than seeing you naked and needy for him to get him going nowadays. Honestly he thinks if you breathed just right he would be rock hard in seconds. He uses his grip on you to line you up with his cock, gently pushing his tip into your entrance.

“You’re always so tight for me, princess. So wet.” Rafe gently thrusts the rest of the way inside of you, pressing your hips flush against his. “There you go baby.”

“Mmm, missed you daddy.” You let out a sigh of relief as wrap your arms around his neck and lean forward, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Missed you too baby, always miss you.” He kisses the top of your head, massages your scalp, rubs your shoulders, leaving kisses behind his in wake. Rafe runs his hands down your back, gently massaging your muscles. He connects your lips and slowly rolls your tongues together as his hands continue to rub and worship every inch of your body they can reach.

“Love every part of you.” He mumbles against your lips as his kisses travel over to your cheek and down your jaw. “Love this pretty face.” He kisses your nose. “Love this cute little nose.” He runs his nose down your jaw to your neck where he counties to place tender open mouth kisses. “Love this pretty throat.” His kisses travel down your shoulder to your arms. “Your soft skin.” He kisses the back of your hand before gently placing his lips on the pad of each one. “Love your cute hands, all these lil rings you wear and how small they look around my cock.”

“Raaaafey, I love you.” You giggle, causing your walls to constrict around him.

“I love you, angel. If you keep laughing like that I’m gonna have to flip you over and fuck you until you can’t talk though.” He chuckles as his hands find your ass and squeeze the flesh between his fingers. His words make you wiggle in his lap, causing his tip to brush against your sweet spot.

“Mmm… I wouldn’t be against it.” You gently rock your hips against his, looking at up at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Yeah?” You giggle and nod. He smiles widely at you before flipping you onto your back. “You’re fuckin’ in for it.”

[muntitled]

𝙃𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙬𝙞𝙛𝙚'𝙨 𝙇𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Summary: Pregnancy definitely sucks but you take your complaints too far, and soon, you're left with the laborious task of making it up to Satoru

Warnings: Domestic Fluff, Petty!Satoru, Tantrums, God Complex (It's Satoru), Humor, Smut (+18) Minors DNI, Praise Kink, Make up sex, Pregnant sex, Office Sex, Touch starved!reader, DDLG, Daddy Kink, Corruption Kink, Eye Contact, Dirty Talk, Cervix fucking, Lactation kink, Dom/Sub undertones, Subspace, Overstimulation

♡ please excuse me, I'm ovulating

"Is there any way I could park closer? So that your journey might be a quicker one?" Despite his voice dripping with nothing but kindness, you find your eyes narrowing at the taxi driver and his close cropped, black hair.

"I may look fat but my limbs are in perfect working conditions, Sir, I assure you," Admittedly, a low blow. The driver reels back, muttering his profuse apologies which immediately softens your resolve.

It is wholeheartedly unfair. The driver could not anticipate the way in which his words would grate at your wavering kindness. He is essentially blameless and perhaps even considerate in his line of questioning. He didn't have any intentions of insulting you.

After all, It was not his fault that you were currently sporting a nasty bump because Satoru decided to inject you with his release until finally he succeeded and you were burdened with the weight of his spawned and this baby, you feel, is a heavy one. One that has your steel emotions melting into guilt, like the deserted tar under the bright summer sun.

"Just here, should be fine," The taxi driver had gotten an impressive tip to make up for your rudeness and you scooted your way out. Soon, you were on the pavement that led into the forest framed by an impressively maintained torii. The driver eyed the gateway solemnly as you shrugged your backpack on, subconsciously grateful for the sundress combatting the summer heat.

"Have a nice day!" You attempt to soften your voice, as soft as you can make it given your current condition.

Condition.

The thought - that word- has you flinching as you make your way up the mountain. The very reason for this journey playing off in your mind's eye with a freshness.

'Condition?' Satoru, had said when you let the word slip the previous evening. The taxi driver had not been the only one affected by your foul mood but last night you were particularly nasty. Gojo's spawn was on a mission to drain you of all your energy, leeching off your nutrients but expecting you to eat at every hour. The Little Monster was testing your patience and it wasn't even born yet.

'You're having my baby,' Gojo had said, 'Not suffering from a disease.' As you both prepared for bed, Gojo, exchanging his black blindfold for the fluffy pink sleep mask which he had invariably stolen from you, while you wobbled your heaviness into bed.

"Trust me, Satoru, when I say that you honestly could have fooled me.' You scoffed, "This baby is making me sick." It had been more and more difficult to disguise the true nature of pregnancy, especially while everyone around lived their lives so carefree and un-pregnant- but you still should not have said what you said. And Satoru was 100% justified in assuming a tantrum.

You were forced to go to bed, with an ice cold, Satoru, refusing to curl up beside you like he usually did. Instead of brushing up behind you, ready to allay that constant state of need that you were haunted by, Gojo stole his warmth away from you. You went to bed without the sensation of his cock grinding into your ass and his long slender fingers seeking to touch anything and everything until he riled himself up enough to fuck you to sleep. When you thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, Satoru had already disappeared in the morning. He had already gone off to Jujutsu Tech, vehemently ignoring any text message you sent.

And here you were, lumbering your way through the thicket of evergreens that seemed to be growing on top of each other. You would not be surprised if these trees ended up being cursed as well. They invariably seemed to swallow the horizon, doing a stellar job at concealing the beauty of the institution inside.

"Your father hates me," The tiny human incubating inside of you is your only bit of company, and so, you decide to entertain the Little Monster, the closer you get to Jujutsu High. "You're a little demon, but he is too." Your heavy breathing fills the quiet air, "But I still love him and his demonic ways so that really means that I love you too," Unknowingly, your hand had begun to cup the underside of your swollen belly and staying there for the duration of the walk, until the very first towers began to peek from within the evergreens and the sound of jovial laughter reaches your ears.

"Woah-" Itadori is the first person you see once you emerge from the thicket, huffing and puffing with the Wright of your guilt carrying you forward. "Are you... supposed to be here?"

"I'm pregnant, Yuuji, not handicapped-" You began, steadily approaching the temple steps where he and a silent Megumi sat idly. "Gojo, where is he?"

"In his office by now." Replied Itadori, "Hey… did you seriously walk up the mountain just to get some from Gojo-" his crass statement is cut short by Megumi's elbow buried in Yuuji's side and you silently thank the dark haired boy as you drift into the temple.

Despite it all, Itadori's statement may have held a sliver of truth. The walk up the mountain had been a perilous one, admittedly one of your less than thorough ideas, but it also got you the opportunity to see Jujutsu High after 6 difficult months of house arrest. Your innate need to teach and help young sorcerers grow and develop their talents was being made dormant, yet somehow, just being in this place, breathing its air, was revitalising you. You could even swear the Little Monster made a happy little kick against your abdomen. You begin to wonder with shocking excitement what cursed technique this baby would be born with - it's a thought that occupies your mind as you maneuver the relaxing halls of the temple.

The positive energy coursing through your bloodstream only doubles once his door reveals itself at the end of the hall. Your nerves are immediately electrified with a violent current as you pull back the door, enough to slip inside. You could not go 24 hours without Satoru annoying you, and that was apparent. If that made you weak, then so be it.

"Satoru." Your voice comes out quieter than expected as you pull the door shut and turn to face the man seated behind his desk. His seat is reclined towards an open window casting an enchanting breeze, enough to lightly ruffle his pale, white locks. Arms support the back of his head, and his legs are perched on the desk. You can not see his eyes behind his rimless blue tinted shades. Your arrival announces rouses him, and immediately, you can tell you've disturbed him from a nap. Perhaps he did not get much sleep last night either…

"Hmm," Is the only sound he is able to make in the stretched silence, readjusting his position, striving to appear disinterested, "Didn't know they allowed murderers into Jujutsu Tech-"

"'Toru, you've probably killed more people than me,'' You say with a small smile as you venture to close the distance between you too. "And how am I a murderer?"

"You forcing yourself up this mountain makes me think you're trying to kill my baby." You can tell that he is still vehemently angry at you but his head ticks slightly to the side as you make your way behind his desk, pushing his feet off before easing onto it so you can sit opposite him.

"I brought salami sticks and a chicken sandwich," You ease the backpack off your shoulders, ignoring Satoru's head lazily draped on his hand. "You didn't eat breakfast this morning and I know your skinny ass is dying of hunger. You may not look like you eat alot but you and our baby are trying to kill me-"

To that, he had obviously chosen to respond with a crude and petty, 'That'd be my baby, you're referring to. Last I checked, to you, it's a cancer.'

"Satoru, I don't know what you want me to say-"

"I've got a pretty good idea of what I don't want you to say."

Your gaze lowers to your lap as your legs swing above the ground. It is always difficult seeing someone as jovial as Gojo, assume such a cold exterior, especially when it's not in his inherent nature.

"I really wish I can say I didn't mean it, 'Toru but I'm fucking drained," You laugh darkly, "I'm fat and ugly and I can't exercise because this baby hates when I move in a way it doesn't like - even getting up here fucking sucked, but the thought of seeing you kinda helped. Not to mention that fucking housewife next door and her perky tits and her tiny waist, and her non-fat ass-"

"Hey," Throughout the course of your hormonal rant, Satoru has felt himself slide his chair closer to you, until your mnees were directly in front of him. His arms fence you in, while he sat on the edge of his seat, "I love your fat ass, please don't ever diss her again."

His words have you laughing despite the thunderous emotions that had overtaken you just a moment ago. That may have been one of Satoru's many superpowers- allaying the darkened clouds with unexpected sunshine.

"Not to mention my feet hurt constantly, I'm horny all the time and I just wanna feel normal in my own skin. But I neglected your happiness in my own self pity and that's wrong and I'm sorry."

'Please fuck me and never, ever be mad at me again,' is what you would have liked to tack on at the end of that apology but you already felt as if you got enough words out. Truthfully, you really were sitting with a well of need between your legs- the warmth between your stomach only compounding given Gojo's proximity, which only becomes worse as he rises from his seat and slots himself between your legs. You shiver at the feeling of just having him near you.

"Does 'horny all the time' include' right now?" Another violent shiver wracked through your spine as Satoru eases a finger underneath your chin, raising your hooded eyes to his concealed ones. All you can do is nod as your fingers curl around the edge of the desk while your breathing picks up its pace.

"And you're never going to be a mean brat ever again," you're utterly mesmerised by Satoru's pillowy, pink lips crafting every word, so much so that you're unaware of his other hand rubbing along your exposed thigh.

"I'm going to have to hear words, baby." He teases lightly,"I'm going to have to hear that you were wrong," You're not sure what it is about the sing-song voice that has you slipping deep into subspace- perhaps it's the slight condescension sprinkled in with the tone one would use to scold a child. It completely breaks you every time.

Your lips curl downward into an involuntary pout as you say "I'll never be a mean brat to you ever again, Satoru-" a gasp races through your throat as his fingers brush against the damp fabric of your clothed, needy cunt. He is rubbing lightly, almost diabolically slow. Your eyebrows curve into needy crescents as you strive to open your legs wider, hoping his fingers might venture deeper.

"I might forgive you," his broad shoulders are hunched so his lips can reach your ears, "If you stop calling me Satoru and say what you really wanna say,"

He was baiting you for his own rush of pleasure shooting all his blood straight to his hardened cock. Satoru's pants were straining as you realised he needed you to slip into subspace as much as you did. His hand was brushing lightly at the fabric against your clit, but that is as far as he was willing to go. Your breathing is erratic as you attempt to thrust your hips into his hand but your stomach stops you from achieving a lot.

"I need you to fuck me, Daddy," The words drenched with the neediness in your voice is borderline pornopgraphic and it rips a wavering groan from within Gojo's chest.

"You're such a needy little slut, aren't you?" Satoru says now swimming in domspace, while he removes his hand from between your legs to quickly rid you of your sweat-drenched sundress.

"I need you so bad," you admit with an aching whimper as the soft wind rushes over your sensitive nipples. The second he sees them, Gojo's hands are clamped around your pillowy; swollen breasts, squeezing and prodding like a virgin who's never seen tits before.

"Fuck, baby, look at what you do to me," He releases a hoarse laugh as he clamps his other hand around your wrist, forcing your palm around his hard cock straining his pants. "Look at what the fuck you do to me," The both of you release a chorus of moans into the air- you, because his fingers were playing a dangerous game with your leaking nipples and Satoru, because he cannot refrain from grinding into your hand.

His glasses fog as he bends his head to watch beads of milk grow on the tips of your nipple before sliding down your torso with every squeeze.

"When did this start happening?" he asks through clenched teeth before rushing to exclaim, "You're so fucking hot- Fuck!"

"Last night- I wanted to tell you but-" You're immediately silenced by Satoru's lips crashing onto yours while he crowds you, pushing you down onto your back while the sound of his belt buckle echoes in the room. His mouth is absolutely restless as his tongue forces its way inside; eager to push itself against your tongue until you both are kissing each other with a tangle of spit. Your hands immediately find his hair and you pull at the strands as Satoru pulls you to the edge of his desk, pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance.

"You're such a soaked little girl, baby," his voice still condescending and airy, but it riles you up further until you push your hips towards him. "Does Daddy get you this worked up?"

"Yes! Only Daddy can make me feel this way-Just- Please!" Your cries are slotted in the base of your throat as the head of his cock begins to stretch your tense and tight walls. Without thinking, Satoru eases himself deeper, his hips unable to move at a steady pace now that he feels how wet and ready you are for him.

"You're taking your Daddy's cock like a good little girl, baby," his words have you arching off his desk while your eyes fight to stay open. You don't close them because Satoru likes to look at you when he fucks you and so, you fight your way back, until your eyes are pouring into his behind those dazzling shades. It takes everything in him not to cum on the spot, and his cock twitches inside you as he begins to set the pace.

"Oh fuck- Just look at you, Princess." You were fucking magnificent - skin glistening with sweat with a belly swollen with his seed. The image alone affects him more than he initially thought it would. Satoru had strived to get you pregnant because he knew he wanted you to birth his legacy, but the sight of your body naturally shifting to incubate his seed scarmbles the very workings of his brain If you weren't careful, you were going to stay pregnant, every other term.

"You're doing such a good job, Princess. Do you know how fucking beautiful you look?" you are utterly deranged with need, feeling all your sensibilities slip out of you as you're fighting to take even more of him impossibly deeper. His shades hide the true nature of his hooded, fucked out eyes. He's not sure what it is about it, but your eyes on him, watching him pound his cock into your slippery, tight pussy, has him rutting into you with desperation. He loves holding your attention in your most depraved moments - watching you stare up at him like he's a God while he's corrupting every sliver of your cute disposition.

He's pounding against your cervix now and it has your moans bleeding into whorish screams. All the while, Satoru does not silence you. He does not clamp his hand around your mouth, instead he affirms quite the opposite. "If you keep squeezing my cock like that I'm going to make you take my cum." That sentence alone has you slipping into your orgasm. Your back arches off the table and Satoru leans over and latches his lips onto your breasts. He moans around your nipple, as his hand rubs your clit with immense rapidity, in tandem with his stuttering hips.

"I'm gonna fucking cum inside you, baby, Tell me you want me to cum inside you," his voice cracks into a desperate whimper, "P-please," Your limbs are shivering as Satoru fucks you quicker, the sensation bleeding into overstimulation as you watch him fall apart over you. He looks utterly gorgeous. The shades may hide his eyes, but his slacked jaw reveals how utterly destroyed he is, with a trail of spit and milk running down his chin. "Fucking tell me!"

"Please cum inside me, Daddy." You pant, looking at him dead in the eyes, "I need your cum inside me," his grip on the desk fumbles and his movements immediately melt into sloppy thrusts and heavy pants.

"Oh fuck- I'm cumming, baby. Fuck, M'gonna fucking breed you-" just as you're forced to endure another orgasm, Satoru's cum explodes inside of you, ripping groan from your hoarse throat.

Gojo is absolutely spent as he eases his cock out of you, rubbing light circles on your thighs, utterly transfixed with the sight of his milky cum slipping out of your cunt.

"I hope I get you pregnant with twins, next time,"

"Get the fuck off of me Satoru." You say feigning anger, which is attested by the smile threatening to blossom over your face. Despite your lightened mood, you still feel monumentally terrible for making him feel bad about your impending parenthood.

"I'm sorry I've been complaining about my house arrest."

"Maternity leave," He corrects with a sigh.

"Same difference," you roll your eyes before noticing his unimpressed and stoic visage. "Only kidding, only kidding."

Thx for reading ♡

[dellalyra]

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐞𝐧 - ᴋɪɴᴋʏ? ᴋɪɴᴋʏ.

 ᴘɪxɪᴇ - 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘫𝘬 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯?

𓆩♡𓆪 Gojo 𓆩♡𓆪

- Size

You just know this man loves how much bigger he is than you. His height - he towers over pretty much everyone anyway, but seeing you so tiny compared to him? Incredible. He’s so broad too, and muscled. He loves remembering the first time you saw him naked, a very pleasant shock reverberating through your body because he has muscle mass like that under all those baggy clothes? He makes sure to wear tight shirts around the house now. He loves how he dwarfs you in bed, when he’s hovering over you - pounding into your tiny little body and your form is completely engulfed by his. Your little hands? On his big, fat cock? Something he’ll never tire of.

- Marking

You are his. He’s cocky, he wants people to know. He wants everyone to know that those marks on your neck are his - he’s the one who sucks them into your soft skin at night when he’s balls deep inside you. He wants them to know.

- Begging

He loves to tease, and getting you to the point where you’re pleading so prettily for him to just fuck you? It’s music to his ears.

- Cunnilingus

He’s got a sweet tooth, and there’s nothing sweeter than his pretty princesses cunt. He will lay between your spread legs for hours, lapping at your fold like a starved man as he whispers how delicious you taste and telling you to just stop wriggling and let him enjoy his dessert.

- Teasing

As above, he’s the worst tease on the list. He loves dragging you into an classroom when you’re both at work in Jujutsu Tech and pressing breathy kisses into your neck and ghosting his fingers across your lacy panties only to smirk when he feels your heart quicken and then leave, continuing to let his hands linger a little too long, whisper a little too close to your ear until you’re on your knees begging him when you get home.

- Breeding

Again, he’s possessive. He likes the idea of you being the momma to his kids, but it’s not just about that for him- the best part of it for him is filling up with tight pussy and giving you everything he has. On an emotional level, it’s a level of trust and intimacy he craves. Knowing you’re so committed to loving him forever and never leaving him that you’d let him. It’s so special to him, having some of him inside you, inside your body. When you tell him it’s okay the first time, he teared up. He’s always been so above others, a figure to look up to - but kept at a distance out of fear and reverence, but here you are. Joined with him in the most intimate way and letting him leave an essence of himself to even further the closeness.

- Brat taming

He teases you so much he really should have expected you to bite back, and put up a fight. He loves to remind you who’s in charge however. Sassing him? Absolutely not. Getting pissy when he’s teasing you? He’ll just smirk at you and tell you to be a good girl for him.

𓆩♡𓆪 Geto 𓆩♡𓆪

- Corruption

Even before his defection, he definitely had always had a corruption kink - whether it be his pretty little untouched crush, or introducing his inexperienced girl to his other hobbies.

- BDSM

He’s a hard dom. Merciless. He’s got a whole selection of instruments to use on you, seeing you writhe beneath him while you’re all tied up in those pretty black ropes and at his fucking mercy is so beautiful to him he wishes he could paint it. The sharp gasps you let out as a paddle hits your plushy behind as you arch your back in the air subconsciously chasing for more comes a very close second.

- Somnophilia

A softer side of him mixes in with this one. You’re just so pretty, so perfect, so serene when you sleep - how can he not want to cherish and love you with all he has? But still, his girl needs her rest - and if he gets to use you for his own pleasure while worshipping you as you rest? Ideal.

- Mirror sex

He knows he’s hot - but you? You’re ethereal. He wants to show you, make you see why he wants you on his cock 24/7 - how could he not when you look like that when you cum? It’s only natural. He loves how you wriggle and tear your eyes away, cheeks flushed with shyness as the sight of such depravity and lust looks back at you - but still - looking at this 6ft Adonis of a man stuffing you full on his lap with his hand around your throat has you coming undone in seconds.

𓆩♡𓆪 Nanami 𓆩♡𓆪

- Orgasm control

Nanami likes control. He likes to be aware of everything around him, he likes having you under his thumb. The thought of having you under his spell so much that he can control when and how you feel pleasure, completely dictating and torturing you by making you wait, and stop, and ride him, then stop and then finally allowing you to gush all over his handsome face is a dream come true.

- Lingerie

Look at you - sitting all pretty. Like a gift in a satin bow. He likes seeing the effort or forethought that lingerie shows, and how it highlights all your assets. He’s never one to rip it off (ahem… the rest of them), he likes to painstakingly, carefully, gently unravel and unwrap the gift laid out before him.

- Face sitting

Enough said. He is the definition of ‘don’t hover, fucking sit.’ He wants you to sit your pretty cunt on his face so he can have you for his dessert.

- Stockings

He’s already a thigh man - mix in some lace top stockings under your skirt, edges peeking out when you cross your legs? You’re going to be the death of this man.

𓆩♡𓆪 Toji 𓆩♡𓆪

- Exhibitionism

He’s so fucking cocky - he wants everyone seeing how you fall apart on his fat dick. He gets off on the thought of getting caught, the adrenaline rush adding to his brutal pleasure as he doesn’t even try to muffle your cries while he fucks you against the back wall of the dive bar.

- Daddy kink

He thinks he fits the name perfectly, the dominant, sexy and slightly older guy - hearing it from your glossy lips when you beg for more is music to his cock.

- Marking

His. All his. He’s going to make sure everyone knows it too.

- Booty stuff

The taboo of it all, the idea of putting his fingers or his cock anywhere near your ‘other’ entrance is enough to have him hard in seconds - it’s ‘forbidden’ so of course it’s something Toji wants.

𓆩♡𓆪 Choso 𓆩♡𓆪

- Breeding

This sweet boy, he loves his family - and he loves his girl. Hang on… what if he… combined them? Having a family with you? You having his baby? You round and squishy and soft and swollen with his child? Oh dear lord he nearly weeps. The thought of you trusting and loving him so much, that you’d beg for him to cum inside you so much you leak for days has him plugging you with his cock to stop even a drop from leaking out.

- Praise

He didn’t totally know what he was doing when you fist got together - sure, he knew the gist of things - but he’s so desperate to make you feel as good as you make him feel, and hearing you verbally confirm or tell him how nice his tongue feels, or how well his cock fills you or how nice he tastes? It’s fuel to get even more high praise from his precious girl.

- Biting

It’s primal - marking, similar to the breeding kink he’s a boy who didn’t know much but allowed his primal instincts to take over and the first time he came when you both had to keep the volume down he bit your shoulder to stifle his groans and the mark he made, almost brutally, and the gasp you let out on your skin drove him to yet another round. The harshest thing this sweetheart will do.

- Thigh-fucking

When you were both figuring things out, as he discovered sex and sexuality, you usually guided him to where he was desperate to be buried - but the first time he guided his own cock it slid between your thighs and his hips stutters above you and he loaned at how your thighs felt around him - he couldn’t stop, he knows he wasn’t in your pretty pussy but why did this feel so good? He loves your thighs as is but Jesus not only are they beautiful but they’re also so soft he can’t stop himself as he paints your plushy thighs with cum, as you whisper encouragement into his ear.

- Blowjobs

When you explain that not only are you willing to put his… in your… mouth - you actively want to - this is shocking to him. Sure, he’s done the same for you before but you want to devote yourself to pleasuring him that way? He constantly checks in as you make out and then drop to your knees and the minute he feels your tongue on his solid length his mind goes blank. He can’t think, can’t focus, can’t hold back - he can only feel how incredibly wet and warm and he thinks he could easily spend his life right here. You’d blow his mind (pun intended).

[silkscream]

HEAVEN SURROUNDS US

ੈ✩ summary: gojo likes that you make him feel human. admittedly, he also likes that sometimes, you make him feel like a god. ੈ✩ warnings: smut (18+), fingering, unprotected sex, slight dacryphilia, begging, soft dom!gojo, kind of mean gojo lol, workplace relations, reader can see curses but that's it, gojo has a god complex, dirty talk, not proofread bc i do not give a fuck ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k ੈ✩ a/n: i am having intense gojo brainrot. i was thinking about 'i'm your man' by mitski the entire time i was writing this btw. ALSO I LITERALLY HAD A GRAPHIC AND DIVIDERS FOR THIS BUT EVERY TIME I INCLUDE THEM this shit doesn't show up in the tags. i've given up!

Gojo Satoru has the smell of death burned into his senses to the point of complete apathy. He’s sure that Shoko feels similarly, though as a healer and a doctor, she’s often only met with the aftermath – the quiet decaying, the dried blood.

Gojo has encountered it all. The stench, the last pleas for salvation, the battered and torn-apart limbs. Even when the dying beings are cursed spirits suffering from the carnage created beneath Gojo’s hands, sometimes he wonders if an angel is nearby that weeps for them.

He has held grief inside his core to use as a weapon ever since he lost Geto. Nothing fazes him anymore. After the tragedies of his late teens, Gojo chooses to devote himself to his students rather than ruminating in sanctimonious thought loops. Gojo Satoru knows he isn’t a god, but sometimes, when he levitates in the sky with blood on his hands, he certainly feels like one. It’s safe to say that he may be the closest thing to one in the world of Jujutsu sorcery. It’s nothing that he despises – he’s known since his powers took shape in the awkwardness of his child-body.

Gojo likes to think he isn’t as cruel and indifferent as a god should be because of how protective he is. The warmth he’s had in his heart for Megumi alone confirms this as such, and now for Yuuji. Despite toying with the idea of divinity, he likes to remember that he’s human.

You are the only thing that reminds him of this.

Ever since Gojo had laid his eyes on you, he figured you were a delicate thing. He’s not completely wrong – although you can see curses, you lack any techniques. After becoming an assistant at Jujutsu Tech, he had taken more than a liking to you, more than he would be willing to admit to anyone else. He also never thought that the girl who was so quick to sardonic banter with him would be so vulnerable. 

When you’re underneath him, maybe he does consider himself a god, just for a second. And then he feels the silky touch of your skin and he can’t help but wish for a life of mundanity with you until the earth stops spinning. 

He likes that he can feel how fast your heart is beating. He likes that you become so pliant just from having his hand on your thigh.

It’s not like he exploits the little affair you have. It’s not that he wants to exploit you either, but the power trip that surges through him when you preen to his touch feels better than winning any battle. It’s those big eyes of yours. It’s a miracle you had reciprocated your attraction to him – he doesn’t know what he’d do to any other man who happened to pursue you. The thought of that kind of violence doesn’t make him feel any guilt. He’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant that he could have you forever, unconditionally.

Within the few months you’ve been working at Jujutsu Tech, you learn a few things about Gojo Satoru. He has an incredible sweet tooth. He cares about his students. He likes the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair. Lives for it, even, but he could never tell you that.

That’s how you ended up here, you suppose. Writhing and wet and oh so obedient for him. 

You like that a man that is worshipped by all enjoys worshipping you.

“Satoru,” you whisper. The sound of your voice makes him fucking melt. 

God, it’s so much worse when you beg. Satoru wants to be gentle with you, careful, because he knows that if all of his morals were thrown out the window, he would devour you completely, leaving bruises in your wake. But he waits, titillatingly, smirking as his long fingers grasp the flesh above your hips.

“Please,” you whine. Your lower half bucks up into him, squirming just a little, but he grounds you with his large hands once again. 

Satoru knows better than to toy with his prey, but the flush on your cheeks is so fucking cute that he wonders what you would look like with tears rolling down the soft blush of your skin.

“Be patient, baby,” he rasps. “Just like lookin’ at you.”

“You look at me all day.”

“Someone’s got quite the attitude.”

You’re about to protest until you feel his knuckle brush against the peak of your clit, teasingly. A nasty grin spreads across his face as he grazes his fingertips along your slit, marveling at how wet you are when he’d barely touched you.

“So pretty for me,” he muses, mostly to himself. 

“Should see how pretty I am when you’re inside me.”

Satoru scoffs. Despite being so human, you have quite the mouth, so much confidence in the way you move and speak that he often forgets how easy it would be to lose you. To break you. Though, of course, that privilege is for him and him only. 

He kisses you to shut you up, but not nearly for long enough. You can’t even get your tongue inside his mouth. You whine pitifully as he pulls back. 

“Poor baby,” he coos. “So on edge today. What’s got you so desperate like this, huh?”

“Just want you,” your voice is meek, which is an anomaly. The honey-sweet cadence of your words is barely above a whisper.

“You have me.” Unbeknownst to you, you always will, whether you tire of him or not.

He makes his point by circling the pad of his thumb to your clit while his other hand claws at your chest underneath your dress shirt. The sound of your gasp has him reeling already, has his cock rock-hard in his slacks. 

“More,”  you whimper. “S-Satoru, please.”

You’re surprised when you feel the palm of his hand over your mouth. You whine against his hand, soft gasps dissipating underneath his touch as your eyes roll back. You feel two fingers enter your sopping cunt and it renders you brainless, docile just how he likes you. 

The rhythmic ministrations of his fingers touch upon the spot inside your core that makes your legs shake. You like being smothered by him despite your personality. You don’t even have to tell him – he knows already, he’s known ever since he noticed your reactions to him touching you casually during the working day.

The more you crave his touch, the more you become dependent on him, even when you don’t realize it. You always pride yourself on being an independent soul, refusing his insistence to pay for your meals, the way you express to him quietly that you want to be able to fight back one day. You could perfect a certain violence in between your fingers just like he can if you put your mind to it. But you have too much dignity to request his guidance as a mentor or teacher. 

He thinks about it now as he touches you. The idea of him training you to use cursed techniques. The idea of him making you in his image, shaping you like he had created you himself.

If anyone truly knew the extent of how you are the object of Satoru’s affection, of his obsession, one would render him pathetic. But he knows he’s too powerful. He knows it’s easy to make you seem like the pathetic one. You’re already begging for his cock, after all. 

“I‘m gonna… I’m–”

There’s a squelching sound when he retracts. His fingers are wet with your slick and you’re on the verge of tears when you feel the loss. You’re already falling apart without his touch. It doesn’t help when you watch him lick your wetness off of his own fingers.

“Why are you being so mean to me today?”

“‘m not,” Satoru purrs, licking a stripe from your collarbone to your earlobe. You try to kiss him since his face is so close to yours, but again, he restricts you. His long, slender fingers squeeze the base of your neck. “I could be a lot meaner to you, y’know. You’re lucky. This is mild compared to what I’ve thought about doing to you.”

“Wanna cum,” you whisper. You don’t even realize that there are tears falling because you’re too focused on Satoru. It isn’t fair, the way he’s toying with you. The moment he relinquishes his grip, just barely, you reach over to palm his cheek. He lets you pull the blindfold from his eyes.

“Dunno if I can let you. You’re being so greedy. Such a selfish fucking girl.” He pinches your nipple as he says it. His voice is smooth, dripping like honey, dulcet in the way his words manage to make your eyelashes flutter despite how filthy the subject matter is. He’d ruin you if he could. Perhaps, he’d ruined you the moment he touched you.

He’s touching your clit again, but not rhythmically. You feel a sense of loss every few seconds. He’s fucking teasing you now, but you’re smart enough to not snap at him despite how much you want to. 

So you say his name instead. Like a hymn or a prayer. Like it’s the sweetest thing to come from your tongue. From the way your voice sounds, Satoru is convinced that his own name is a blessing just because it comes from your lips. He can’t get enough of it.

You make Satoru feel human, but the way you react to him at the moment makes him want to pretend he’s a god.

“S-Sat–Satoru. Oh.”

“You cryin’ already, baby? Thought you liked it when I played with you.”

His voice is low, raspy. Almost cruel. 

Your brain is so foggy that it feels like he’s been doing this to you for hours. You can’t even form words, can’t bitch to him or dominate him the way you often attempt to. There’s a secret part of you, deep inside, that is unlocked by the way Satoru handles you. As much as he loves control, he still doesn’t know the extent of what you would let him do to you. How you wished he’d wrap a silk ribbon around your neck and collar you like a puppy. How you think you would do anything for him if he asked.

You don’t even know that he would do the exact same for you.

Now, you’re at your peak again. Your legs are wobbly, senses so heightened by the way he plays with your pussy that it takes you a few moments to notice that his cock is prodding against you, bare and pink and fucking leaking. 

Maybe if you tell him you’re close, he’ll stop. You can’t stand the thought of it. So, naturally, you cry instead, and the sight makes him want to keep you for as long as he’s alive. Satoru would make sure nothing slights you, and that nothing out of his control could possibly vex you. This desire usually scares him. At the moment, it doesn’t. At the moment, he feels drunk with it. 

He knows when you cum because he has you memorized. It’s a little death, truly, because when your legs tremble and your moans fade into a sharp gasp, Satoru knows for sure that your brain has turned to mush. Your body melts against his. Maybe you’d melt right into his mattress if he didn’t have more energy to play with you. 

Gojo Satoru does not believe in a higher power, but he thinks that if one existed, one that was more powerful than him, he would thank them. He would thank them for you, the creation of you, the very essence of you living and breathing in the same wretched world as him. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, you were made just for him. 

You recover in a succession of exhales. Blinking rapidly through blurry vision as you feel Satoru’s face nuzzling your neck, almost too domestic and sweet to bear. You had never thought of anything serious with him because of his reputation, but every time he has you like this, underneath him, you often wish that he would reassure you that he wants to keep you.

And he does. He is devoted to you in a way that feels holy. He just doesn’t know how to tell you that. Satoru hopes you can figure it out just from the way he touches you. 

And maybe, like him, you’re just above human. An angel, he thinks. A set of wings would suit you. 

“I– I– please–” you strain. You feel embarrassed from the tears, but Satoru cherishes you. He kisses and licks them right off your face.

“I know, baby. I won’t make you beg any more than you have,” he sneers. 

You’re fucking doe-eyed, angelic when he enters you. Just the tip, for now, just so he can see how you react. It isn’t the first time but you are certainly acting the part from the way your whole face screws up. Your perfect mouth parts and he touches your bottom lip with his thumb.

You whimper like a wounded thing. Like you should be begging for mercy. He hasn’t dipped too far into his God-complex yet to coax that reaction for you.

And without a warning, he pushes himself into you completely, bottoming out. He groans at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. So warm. So fucking wet.

“Fucked you enough to mold the shape of your pussy to my cock, huh? Feels so fucking– fuck,” he exhales, rutting into you with eyes shut. 

You whine his name, clutching at him, scraping your nails across his pale back. He loves the way you need him. He wouldn’t trade the feeling for anything else in the world.

Made for me. God made you for me.

You slur your words against his neck and his chest as he thrusts into you – cries of his name, of begging for more, of your usual expletives. He grins like a predator. He bends you in half and thinks briefly about breaking your limbs for the sake of his pleasure. (He doesn’t. You’re too delicate, too human.)

In reality, you’re sarcastic and sometimes brash. When Satoru has you writhing underneath him, you’re a little more shy. He wants to tease the desire from you, whatever filth that permeates in your brain. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“Want– I want– aah!”

“Feels so good for you, I know. Use your words for me. I know you can,” Satoru taunts.

“Want you to make me cum on your cock. Please,” you beg. “Need it deeper, ‘Toru. Need you.”

“Need me, don’t you? Say it again so I can hear it.”

“Nngh– Need– Fuck, I can’t–”

He slows the speed of his thrusts and rubs the length of your jaw softly with his palm. His other hand rubs your clit gently, making your body spasm. He tucks the hair sticking to your forehead behind your ear so he can see all of you. You and your swollen mouth and glassy eyes.

“Don’t do that,” you whine.

“Do what, baby?”

“Teasing me like this. Wan’ it rough.”

“What else?” he breathes into your neck, palming your breast as he thrusts into you deeper.

“Want everything. Want it to hurt.”

And with that, he gives it to you. He gives you all of it. 

You drape your arms around his body so that you’re closer than ever, both of your bodies ready to mesh into one if they could. Satoru pushes your legs up, knees bent and ankles near your ears, and he basks in the sound of your pathetic mewls. 

“Such a good… fucking girl,” he groans. “‘m so close.”

“Me too,” you reply in a hushed tone. “Right– right there.”

Satoru has fucked you plenty of times. He’s called you a slut, a greedy whore – but he can’t bring himself to degrade you like that even though he knows you like it. You’re splayed out for him, limbs limp and grateful for his embrace. You’re too fucking precious for him.

You’re too dazed to think about the moral implications of your affair. It's a miracle you can't enter his mind so deeply when you're fucked out like this. Where his thoughts flash from lecherous to monstrous, yours are rendered sluggish. There’s almost nothing in your brain, save for him and his blue eyes and the feeling of his cock. It consumes the best of you. You welcome it with open arms.

Another kiss. It’s mostly Satoru working his tongue into your mouth and you dissolving under his tongue. He tastes so sweet, so fresh all the time. His lips are so fucking soft it drives you insane.

“Pleasemakemecum,” you cry out in a jagged mumble. “Please. Need it so bad. Please!”

He groans in response. You’re begging more than usual. You are frantic and desperate and welcoming his hand to shape you in his image. 

The way he grinds into your cunt becomes more aggressive, which is easy for him. There’s no resistance – your pussy is so fucking wet for him in that way. The cloying heat in his pelvis spreads to the rest of his body, warmth enveloping him like hot water in a bath.

You whine his name again and it dissipates into his mouth.

“Cum with me, fuck, I can feel you–” he moans. Both of you reach your peak in the way he grasps your body, calloused hands worshipping the length of your waist until his fingertips bruise your thighs. 

His hips stutter as he indulges in his pleasure. In the sound of your hushed whimpers. In the way your nails claw across his back. 

Both of your labored breaths fill the silence. Even in the dark, you admire the brightness of his blue eyes. They could replace the divinity of the stars themselves, you muse. 

Both of you are hazy, intoxicated on the touch of each others’ skin. You shiver in your skin. You’re only soothed when he buries his face into your neck, long limbs splayed over your smaller frame.

“I should fuckin’ marry you,” he breathes into your skin.

“What was that?” you raise a brow.

He clears his throat. Despite the daze, he’s able to give you one of his signature cocky grins. Something flashes in his blue eyes, you think.

“I think I wanna keep you.”

If he was god, you were his seraphim, he’s decided. He almost tells this to you, out loud, because your big eyes drink him in. He knows better.

“You have me,” you reply softly, echoing him from earlier in the night. The way he smiles reminds you of the sun. 

Gojo Satoru knows it’s an affirmation from you, maybe even pillow talk. But he knows that sentiment to be truer than anything he’s ever known. He is yours and you are his.

For now, you don’t know the half of it. Maybe someday you will.

[nahoney22]

Massage Therapy*** 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Tech X Female!Reader

word count: 4.5k

prompts: none

Tech gives you a massage, what else could possibly happen?

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit Sexual Content and Language. Oral Sex ie blowjob, Fingering, P in V Sex, Nudity, Dirty Talk, Soft!Dom Tech, Breeding Kink, Size Kink, Petnames, Oil Massage, Consensual Sex, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Kissing, Multiple Positions, Slightly Rough Sex, Spanking, Teasing, Flirting, Cum Denial, Creampie, Slight Possessive Tech, Not Proof Read, a bit Messy.

A/N: Total self indulge fic and tech has a big [REDACTED]

Reblog to support content creators. 🫧🌊

“What is so amusing?”

The Marauder hummed softly in the background as the team sat around, recuperating after a somewhat successful mission. Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, and Tech were sharing tactics and strategies and Tech was detailing the mission’s success. More to the point of explaining how his calculations had been spot on. But, you couldn’t help but chuckle, grabbing his attention.

“I’m just saying, Tech, your calculations might be great, but sometimes you overlook the obvious,” you teased.

Tech raised an eyebrow. “I hardly think that is the case. My assessments are thorough.”

“Oh really?” you challenged, stepping closer with a smirk. He gazes up at you from his spot, slightly wide-eyed. “I am sorry to tell you that you missed the part where the droids’ power cells were defective, which is why they were so easy to defeat.”

Tech frowned, his mind already processing your claim. “I accounted for their reduced efficiency due to age of creation, but… I didn’t specifically check for defective power cells.” He recalls quietly, pinching his chin.

Hunter and the others watched with amusement as the debate unfolded. “Sounds like a bet’s brewing,” Hunter said with a grin, leaning back in his seat.

You grinned back. “Alright, Tech, let’s make it interesting. If I’m right, you owe me a favour. And if you’re right, I’ll help with the repairs to the Marauder for a week.”

Tech considered this, the prospect of additional help appealing, especially from you, though he was confident in his calculations. “Very well, it’s a bet.”

Wrecker chuckled. “This is gonna be good.”

Tech pulled up the data on his datapad, scrolling through the information with practiced ease like he’s done this a million times before. You stand behind him, arms crossed and truthfully quite smugly-confident. After a few moments, you watch as his face fell. “It appears you are correct. The power cells were indeed defective.”

Echo clapped Tech on the shoulder. “Looks like you owe her, Tech.”

Tech simply nodded. “It seems so. I will fulfill my end of the bet.” He swivels in his chair to face you. “What is it you require?”

You ponder for a moment, not really thinking that far forward. “Undecided. But I’ll get back to you.” You say with a wink before walking away.

Tech watches you leave, swallowing hard but refusing to let the strange strain of his emotions show in front of the others.

If only you knew how you make him feel. Then again, perhaps you would be able to tell him how you are making him feel. Fluttering in the stomach when your name is mentioned in passing? Clammy hands when you talk to him? A small wave of arousal just when you’re near?

But surprisingly welcome.

It was new.

A few hours later, the others had dispersed to do their own thing whether to go to Cid’s or a walk which left just you and Tech alone.

Tech approached you after staring at you silently for the last minute or so, his usual confidence tinged with a hint of awkwardness. “Have you decided yet?”

You jumped a little, not hearing him approach initially but smile at him as you face him. “I was only teasing Tech, you don’t have to do anything for me.”

“On the contrary. You asked for something from me after proving me wrong which is a rarity, so I will do what you ask.”

As he was speaking, you felt a slight pain in your shoulder that had been bugging you for a few days now which spurred on an idea. “Well… there is something you can do for me.” You say sheepishly, taking a step towards him.

The proximity suddenly made him clam up, his fists tightening behind his back as your eyes and the smell of you captivated him. Your lips are moving but he isn’t processing what you’re really saying. “Sorry,” he clears his throat, “what did you say?”

“I said you could maybe give me a massage?” You say quickly, realising how personal that sounded. “Only if you feel comfortable. It’s just I have a few knots that I feel like you could tend to.”

Tech hesitates, giving massages was definitely not his forte or something he spent researching but for you? He felt like he would do anything these days. “If i can help relieve your pain I shall do it. Albeit I can not promise groundbreaking results.”

You giggle, eyes creasing at the corners and nose scrunching. Tech had never described anything as ‘cute’ before and probably never will; however, your laughter was something he always found rather endearing and admittedly… cute.

“Really? That’d be great. Do you want to do it now since the others aren’t here?”

“That is fine with me, let me get prepared and I’ll come find you.” Tech confirms, reaching for his device to do a quick research on techniques to massages.

After doing his frantic search, Tech set up a fold-away table that was typically used for emergency medical purposes and called you over. You emerge, now having changed into some shorts and tank top and look at the table in surprise.

“Please, lie down,” he instructed.

“Gettin’ the full treatment, am I? I feel special.” You tease, hopping onto the table as you watch Tech move about.

“If you require a calming and thorough massage it is only right that I do it properly.” He says simply but hopes the slight waver of nerves in his tone didn’t show as he turns to face you, holding a bottle of what looked to be body oil. “I found this among Echo’s things. I thought it might enhance the experience.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused and quite excited. “Echo’s, huh? Do you think he will mind?”

“I was not going to plan on telling him.” Tech announced as he poured some of the oil into his bare hands, warming it before you lay down, head on a small pillow made out of the boy's spare tops.

You positioned yourself comfortably, lying face up and watch as Tech’s hands hovered over your body, as if he was unsure where to start.

“You can start with my shoulders,” you suggested gently, easing him into it.

Tech nodded, placing his hands on your shoulders and beginning to knead the tension of both this situation and your ache away. His touch was non-surprisingly gentle yet firm, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as he worked on a particularly tight knot.

“You do appear very tense,” Tech observed, his voice tinged with modest concern.

The sensation of his hands on your skin was both soothing and electrifying. The oil, scented of lavender, made your skin glisten under the dim lighting of the ship. Each stroke, knead, sent waves of relaxation through your body, yet you couldn’t help but wonder if there was an underlying current of something more intimate and exciting afoot. You try to push the lewd thoughts away and focus back on Tech.

“Yeah, missions for Cid usually do that to a person,” you replied, your voice slightly breathless.

As the massage continued, you felt your muscles relaxing under Tech’s skilled hands. He moved down to your arms, taking his time to work out every knot and kink and even took his time on each of your hands, adding more oil to your skin which feels dry.

“You’ve done this before, I refuse to believe otherwise.” You sigh, eyes still closed and occasionally, you let out soft sounds of pleasure, unable to help yourself.

You don’t hear or see it but Tech’s breath hitched slightly each time you made a sound, and he could sense his growing arousal pressing against his pants.

After a few minutes or so, his mind doesn’t process like it usually does because out of nowhere he says, “If you are comfortable, you can remove your clothes.”

Your eyes open quickly, looking directly up into his, squinting to see his reaction behind his goggles. “Remove my clothes?”

“I…I only meant…” you watch him as he struggles to force out an answer but you take pity on him because you couldn’t deny, the idea did slightly turn you on.

Tech was adorably sweet in your eyes and you knew - also thanks to the other boys teasing - he felt something for you. You didn’t believe it at first because he was always the same around you. Though the more you paid attention, the more it clicked together like a puzzle piece. When does Tech ever stumble over his words? When is he ever usually wrong? When has he ever offered to give someone a nude, oily massage?

Naturally, you felt something for him too. You were just a bit better at hiding it than he was.

“Will you place a towel over my, you know?”

“Yes, of course. It is just for a more in-depth massage.” He clears his throat, finding his voice again and genuinely surprised you were going to go ahead with this.

You flushed but nodded, trusting him. You wait until he turns around before you remove your clothes, lying back down as Tech passed you a towel which you draped over yourself. “May I proceed?”

“Sure,” you nod as you close your eyes, allowing his hands to resume their work and starting with your legs. He is certainly a quick learner because his fingers knead the muscles with precision and as he glides higher towards your thighs, you feel his touch become more deliberate.

You take a peek at him with one eye, watching him secretly and you were certain he was looking at you with a look you had never witnessed before.

He looked starved. Tempted. Lustful.

Ever so discreetly, you part your legs just an inch, allowing his hands to work on the inner sides of your thighs. You try to control your breathing but the slight rush of wind that hits your core as his hands zoom past was hard to ignore.

He climbed higher and higher until you comfortably moved your legs further open, the towel still giving you your dignity yet you were sure it was about to roll off the table and down the gangplank.

The side of his hands were just inches away from touching your pussy and you waited with bated breath, wondering if he dared to cross the line… but he never did.

You peek at him again, watching him shake his head at himself as if he was scolding himself for thinking of doing something.

“Tech,” you breathed out, closing your eyes fully so he didn’t catch you looking at him, “you can massage my br- torso. You can massage my torso if you want.”

He moves round the table, standing at your side. Looking at the towel that covered your nude body, he feels a burn in his own as his mouth starts to salivate. “Will you be comfortable with me removing your towel in that case?”

With a mumble of clarification, Tech’s hands trembled slightly as he moved the towel aside. His gaze looked at your face first, analysing your reaction and was relieved to see that you didn’t seem to mind what was happening.

He looks away from you for a moment, grabbing the bottle of oil again and then gazes upon your chest, most notably your breasts.

He bites on his tongue to stop from making a noise as he slowly pours the oil over your hardening nipples before his fingers begin tracing the curves of your breasts, rubbing the oil in.

His touch was gentle this time, yet it sent waves of pleasure through your body. He stands behind your head, leaning over you as his hands caress and respectfully fondle your tits but his eyes? They were on your face, watching your reactions intently.

You couldn’t help it but your breathing gets heavier, your fingers gripping onto the edge of the either side of the table as his thumbs briefly kiss your nipples, the heat between your legs throbbing with an intensity that you wanted to whimper his name.

“Your skin is incredibly soft,” Tech murmured, his voice husky with arousal as he cups your breasts together, kneading gently into them.

You arched into his touch, your breathing ragged. “Tech… please, don’t stop.”

Your reaction nearly makes his knees buckle, he recognised this behaviour from many porn holovids he watched in secret. You were turned on and he was the reason for it.

He continued just like you wanted, not letting his ego explode, his hands exploring your body further with growing confidence. The massage was easily becoming increasingly steamy, your soft moans of enjoyment encouraging him further that the tent in his pants was starting to hurt.

Skillfully, his hands moved lower, exploring the expanse of your stomach, then to your hips, and finally to your inner soft and pillowy thighs. “You’re so good at this.” You whisper, biting your lip.

“Turn over, please,” Tech instructed, his voice a low and husky command.

You complied, turning onto your stomach. Tech again has to suppress his wanton noises as his eyes land on your arse. You could feel his gaze linger which silently makes you smirk. There’s a mix of admiration and professionalism in his eyes and he doesn’t know how to function for a moment. “Any pain in your back I should be aware of?” He asks, oiling his hands up once again.

“I get a small ache in my lower back sometimes.” You reply, speech slightly muffled as you lay your head flat on its side.

“Hopefully I can help with that.” He whispers, his hands landing on the area you said and gives you slow and purposeful strokes.

The sensation of his hands on your bare skin was incredibly intimate, and you felt yourself growing damp with arousal. Tech's touch was almost reverent, as if he was in awe of your body. It’s not long until his hands move to your arse, massaging you perfectly.

Your lip almost bleeds with how many times you bite down onto it but you couldn’t help the shivers that tingles your body. His professionalism was evident, but the effect he was having on you was undeniable. “Do you like this?”

“I’m definitely not going to say no,” you utter with a soft laugh, soon groaning as both of his hands knead at your left cheek.

As Tech moved around the table to work at your body at a different angle, you caught a glimpse of the clear arousal pitched in his pants.

The sight sent a thrill through you, knowing that your reactions and your body were affecting him just as much. Despite his aching erection, he maintained his composure, focusing on giving you the best massage possible and for that you were immensely grateful for. Though, you wouldn’t mind the latter.

His hands moved to your thighs one more, working their magic as he massages up and down each leg with a slow, intricate touch that makes you breathe out soft moans of delight. “Those are some rather seductive sounds you’re making, I have to say.”

Did he just flirt with you? Or was he just stating the obvious as usual? Perhaps it was both.

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” you say softly, propping yourself up on your elbows and look back at him, “you’re good with your hands.”

He stills, meeting your flirtatious gaze and has to fight every willpower he has not to palm himself infront of you, the ache in his pants throbbing and begging for release. “There is no need to apologise,” he says slowly. His hands are inching their way up your legs and ever so gently begins to spread your cheeks.

Your lips part, watching him as he locks eyes with your glistening pussy and you felt a surge of arousal as he uses two fingers to brush up between them, his touch feather-light and teasing.

“T-Tech,” you rasp, fingers gripping onto the table as he runs his fingers up and down your slicked entrance.

“Can I massage you here? I am positive there is quite a lot of tension that needs to be released.”

You nod fervently, biting your lip before you let out the most sinful cry of pleasure.

He paused for a moment to get your answer, then slowly, deliberately, he hooked a finger inside you.

The wet sounds of his fingers moving inside you filled the room, a mix of slick and rhythmic. His movements were slow at first, teasing, then gradually quickened, each thrust making your body shiver. Your arse jiggled slightly with each movement, adding to the allure of him finger-fucking you.

“You’re incredibly wet,” Tech remarked, his voice a mix of awe and satisfaction. “It’s pleasing to know you’re enjoying this.”

You could barely form a coherent response, your body trembling with desire as you buried your head into the table. “Tech… please, more.”

His fingers began to explore you more deeply, each movement, twisting, curling and pumping inside you. You moaned louder, your hands gripping the edges of the table as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy of one of many orgasms.

Tech moved to your side, and you seized the opportunity, reaching out to grab his cock through his pants. “Maker you feel so big,” you gasp in pleasant surprise, massaging it through the fabric, feeling its hardness and the heat radiating from it. His breath hitched, and he groaned softly.

“You may have the pleasure of having a look and a taste if that would satisfy you.”

With a swift motion, you pulled down his pants, freeing his cock without a second thought. You had to move your head back slightly so it didn’t slap you in your face and gaze at his member in awe.

“Looks so good…” you moan to yourself as you bring his tip to your mouth, teasing it with your tongue before taking him in. Tech’s fingers never stopped their rhythm inside you, and he began to thrust gently into your mouth, his cock moving in and out with a steady pace.

You slurp and suck on his cock like a woman starved, your hand gripping the shaft as you pump it back and forth while he rocks into your mouth.

“You look so cock-hungry. Has your pretty mouth and pussy been neglected for so long?” You never thought you’d hear these words pour out of his mouth but here you both were, you with his aching cock between your lips and his fingers deep and wet inside you. “Have your needs been met?”

The sensation was intoxicating, his fingers moving inside you while his cock filled your mouth, your reply a muffled and spit covered ‘yes’. You could feel him trembling, his control slipping as he thrust deeper, the corner of your lips stretching with a pleasurable pull.

You moved back onto your back, positioning yourself with your head tilted to the side so you could continue sucking his cock. Tech’s hands were everywhere, one playing with your oiled nipples, rolling and pinching them lightly, while the other massaged your clit. The dual sensation was overwhelming, and you felt yourself building to another climax as stars blur your vision.

Tech’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent. He groaned your name, panting like a whore, his voice filled with desire. “I can’t… I’m going to…”

Before he could finish, he pulled out of your mouth with urgency, his eyes dark with lust. “I have to have you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with need.

You watched with wide and lusting eyes as he moved to the bottom of the table, his hands gripping your thighs firmly. In one swift motion, he pulled you close to him, your legs dangling off the edge. His cock, hard and throbbing, pressed against your exposed entrance. The anticipation was electric, your body quivering with need.

“Tech, please,” you whispered, your voice burning with desperation.

He needed no further encouragement. He grabs his cock, slipping it up and down between your folds, tapping it against your clit to watch your desperate whimpers of want before he pushes into you, filling you completely.

“Oh fuck! Tech!” You cried out in pleasure, your body arching against him as your head fell back. The sensation of his cock stretching you was overwhelming, and you gripped his arms, your fingers digging into the fabric of his sleeves because after all, he wasn’t even naked himself.

“Maker, your cunt is so tight,” Tech groaned, his voice strained with pleasure, “do not worry darling, you will adjust.”

He began to move, each thrust deep and powerful, slamming into you with an urgency that left you panting with breath. He pushes his goggles up to rest against his forehead, having steamed up from the erotic heat and then watched intently, eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing into you with each thrust.

“I do not think I will fit inside you completely,” he chuckles, “but I’ll make do.” his voice was husky and he looked you in the eyes.”

“You are mine,” he groans, his hands running up and down your thighs as he stills inside you, keeping his cock warm. “Stars, I have been wanting to see how you look whilst getting wonderfully fucked by my cock.”

Your eyes locked onto his, the intensity of the moment binding you together. “Tech… it’s so big,” you moaned, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“I know. But you are doing exceptionally well my dear… tell me how good it feels,” he demanded, his pace quickening. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Fuck, it’s so deep,” you cried out, your voice breaking as he begins to move his hips again. “It feels so good baby,”

Tech let out a loud groan at the pet name, legs like jelly. “I could get used to you calling me that.”

“Your body is incredible,” Tech groaned, his hands gripping your fleshy thighs tighter. “It should be cherished. Your pussy is perfect. I’ve imagined you wedged on my cock for a long time. And now you’re mine. My brothers will never get the chance to fuck you as good as I do.”

“I’ll only want you, Tech,” you gasped, your body trembling with pleasure. “I’ve always wanted you.”

Tech’s hands move to your waist, his grip almost bruising as he pounded into you. “I am going to fill you up,” he moaned, his voice low and feral as his deep-rooted kink for breeding you surfaces. “I’m going to spill my seed inside you, and you’re going to take it all.”

The thought sent a shiver of pure pleasure through your body, and you felt your orgasm building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter as your pussy gets pounded. “Yes, Tech! please, I need your hot cum so badly.” you begged, voice a desperate plea as sweat drips down your body.

Tech’s thrusts became erratic, his control slipping as he neared his own high. His fingers moved to your clit, pinching and flicking it in time with his thrusts. The added sensation made you sob with pleasure, your body trembling uncontrollably. “Shit oh - holy - fuck,” you’re mewling pathetically, watching half of his cock disappear inside of you.

He leaned over you, pinning you to the table, his face inches from yours. “Kiss me,” he ordered, his voice rough with need. You comply without a second thought, your lips crashing together in a desperate, hot kiss. He lets go of you, hands holding on the table as it rocked back and forth as he buries himself in and out of you.

Just as you were about to fall over into blissful release, Tech pulled out, making you whimper at the loss. “N-no, no why?”

You watch with hazy eyes as he starts to stroke himself, trying to stave off his orgasm. “Beg for my cock,” he commanded, his eyes heavy with hunger. “Tell me how much you need it.”

“Please, baby, Tech, I need you,” you pleaded, your voice desperate. “I need your cock inside me. Fuck me again, please.”

Satisfied, Tech pulled you off the table and turned you around, bending you over. He lifted one of your legs to rest on the table, angling your body perfectly. “This position will allow for deeper penetration,” he explained, his voice tinged with anticipation. “I shall be able to hit that sweet spot inside you perfectly.”

With that, he thrust back into you, his cock driving deep and hitting just the right spot. You gasp out in pleasure, your hands gripping the edge of the table for support. “Yes, Tech, right there,” you moaned. “It feels so good.”

“Good girl,” Tech groaned, his pace relentless. “Take it all my darling.”

His large, veiny cock buried deep inside you, hitting every sensitive spot. He reached forward to spank your arse, making it bounce with every thrust. “So receptive.”

Just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, Tech flipped you onto your back again, lifting your legs to dangle off his shoulders. He pounded into you with renewed vigor, his pace becoming erratic as he felt himself ready to give you everything.

“I’m going to cum,” he growled, his voice low and feral. “You will be so full.”

“Yes, Tech, do it,” you urged, your voice breathless as you move your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit to match him. “I need it so much.”

With a final, loud thrust, Tech buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he came. The sensation pushed you into another orgasm, your body trembling with pleasure.

For a moment, the galaxy seemed to stand still, the only sounds were the heavy breathing and soft moans of pleasure. As Tech slowly pulled out, you felt his warm cum slip out of you and you watch in awe as he collected it on his fingers and, with a possessive look, pushed it back inside you.

“I want every drop to stay inside you,” he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. “I want you to remember this.”

The sensation of his fingers inside you, combined with the aftershocks of your orgasm, made you shiver. “I won’t forget,” you whispered.

Tech leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, tender kiss. “You are incredible,” he murmured against your lips. “I never imagined…”

“Me neither,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. “But I’m glad it happened.”

Tech pulled you into a gentle embrace, the intimacy of the moment leaving you both feeling connected in a way you hadn’t before. “I… I hope I did not hurt you.”

“No, not at all.” You reply with a comforting smile, “I’m just dazed.”

He smiles, pulling his goggles back down after wiping them clear. “As you could probably tell, I always had feelings for you,” he admitted softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I just didn’t know how to express them.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I feel the same way, Tech. And not going to lie, I think I’ve always known.”

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka

@theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @staycalmandhugaclone

@ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog

@pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87

@ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

@greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @lulalovez

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot t @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder r @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @photogirl894

🌊 Masterlist is pinned on profile🌊

[stellarbit]

hmmm for bad batch requests,, could u maybe write abt fem reader teasing tech til he snaps?

Word count: 1,666 Pairing: fem!reader x Tech Summary: You love bugging Tech. He's not much of a fan - yet. gif credit: @dreamswithghosts Warnings: Not proof read at all a/n : I just love soft dom Tech so much oh my god.

Tech was meticulously reassembling a droid in a quiet corner of Cid’s parlor, a task he had taken on to earn some extra credits. The delicate parts spread around him demanded his full attention—until you walked in. He stiffened, a slight tension gripping his shoulders; he hadn't expected to see you, and part of him wished you hadn't noticed him. Your knack for derailing his concentration was uncanny.

Despite his best efforts to become invisible, you spotted him almost immediately and made your way over, your presence pulling his focus from the task at hand.

"You know, that’s the wrong servo," you commented casually, hovering just over his shoulder.

“It isn’t,” Tech replied curtly, without looking up from his work.

“Then it must be your spanner,” you teased, eyeing the tool in his hand.

That comment set Tech’s teeth on edge, and he tightened his grip on the spanner. “My spanner is perfectly functional,” he retorted, his tone sharper than usual.

Refocusing on his work Tech grumbled, “Am I to assume you have nothing better to do than give invalid - and might I add unwanted - advice?”

You laughed, a clear, ringing sound, and bumped him lightly with your hip. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you leaned down and whispered in his ear, “There’s nothing I enjoy more than making you second guess yourself.”

The proximity of your words and the audacity of your insinuation caused Tech to pause. He snapped his head to face you, meeting your gaze directly for the first time since you arrived. “I am not—” he began, hesitating under the intensity of your grin, which filled his entire field of vision.

Tech’s cheeks tinged with an uncharacteristic flush as he watched you smile broadly, clearly amused by his discomfort. Tech deflated at having fallen for your prodding.

Tech took a deep breath, adjusting his goggles as he prepared to still correct you, and huffed, “I do not second guess myself.”

You held his gaze until he broke eye contact with an unnerved glance away. Triumphantly patting his shoulder, you straightened out and said on an amused sigh, “Then I’m not trying hard enough.” Taking your win, you hip bumped him once more and sauntered off.

“I’ll see ya later, Goggles.”

Tech rolled his eyes as you left. That is, he watched the entirety of your walk to the bar until your hips dipped into a stool - then he rolled his eyes. Even after you were done with Cid and out the door, you had him distracted.

Your ‘later’ turned out to be the very next day when you dumped a droid head onto the table in front of him. It was a toss up to Tech as to whether the sound of your voice caused his stomach to drop or flip.

Shoulders slumped, Tech deadpanned up to you. “What do you want?”

“Fix it.” You said simply, lips twitching when you saw a flicker of frustration in Tech’s eyes.

Tech’s instinct was to grab the head for inspection, but the twitch of your lips kept his hands off. “I’ll require more information if I am to,” Tech lifted his fingers to quote you, “Fix it.”

Diverting your attention to your nails, you slid into the seat adjacent to him. “Well that’s the problem, Goggles.” With a pout and an exaggerated shrug you said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

Bit of a lie that was. While it was true you didn’t know what was wrong with it - you also snatched the head from the top of a scrap pile. It was also true you had nothing better to do than tease the technician.

The sharp gaze behind those goggles thrilled you. It felt like he was searing right through you when that dissecting look came over him. Sometimes, when you managed to push him far enough, you could see a muscle twitch in his jaw, a sign of his controlled irritation. There was something exhilarating about capturing his full, unadulterated attention—seeing him momentarily forget his gadgets and focus solely on you.

Tech didn’t break eye contact as he pushed the head towards you. Not budging, you smiled and slid a handful of credits his way. Tech conceded with grumbling but pulled the head back towards him, his fingers already itching to solve the puzzle it presented.

He’d not encountered your type of personality before. You seemed so intent on bothering him at times, other times you were strictly business with Cid. Were you interested in his work or just annoying him? Though your proven record of particularly unhelpful input led him to believe it wasn’t his work.

Still, he popped open the circuit board and set about his diagnostics. To his relief you were mostly silent outside of an occasional hum. Despite his tinkering, the reserve power wasn’t even accessible.

Waving an annoyed hand at the hunk of junk Tech asked, ““What even happened to this droid?”

You answered by leaning on your elbows and shrugging your shoulders with a hum of confusion. Annoyance pinched his features and forced your smile to the surface.

“What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?” He ground out

Your brows raised as your eyes fell to the droid between you. Sucking on a tooth, you took on a contemplative nod before clicking your tongue and tapping on the droid as if you finally remembered.

Finding Tech’s eyes, you said with a tone of obviousness, “That would be because I picked it out of the trash on the way here.”

Tech’s brows hit his hairline before quickly settling into annoyance. “You brought me trash to fix without any idea of what’s wrong with it?” he asked incredulously, his tone laced with disbelief rather than anger.

His patience was worn well beyond thin. Snatching your wrist from the droid, he held you firm and demanded to know, “What is your issue?”

You stopped breathing entirely and your teasing demeanor fell. The air seemed to shift the longer you didn’t answer.

“Oh, now you're silent?” Tech remarked dryly, his gaze fixed intently on you, trying to decipher the method behind what seemed to be madness.

He could feel your heartbeat thrumming through his fingers pressing into your wrist. Glancing at his hold on you, he counted your increasing heart rate before turning a suspicious look on you.

With cautious curiosity he asked, “Are you… excited by this?”

You cleared your throat, cheeks flaring when his fingers pressed a little harder for an answer. “It’s looking that way, isn’t it?” You finally croaked out.

Tech blinked , taken aback by the timid nature of your tone. He sat back, raking his eyes over you. You were still, breathing in shallow, controlled breaths, wide eyed and lips slightly parted. And so silent.

Slowly, Tech eased his grip on you, observing the way you melted at the relief - like you were finally allowed to relax. Quirking an eyebrow Tech snorted, “This is all it takes to make you behave?”

Your pride and composure quickly returned. His sudden forwardness had thrown you off, sure, but you’d not fall for it twice. Scoffing, you tried to pull out of his grasp, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Goggles.”

The pressure on your wrist tightened once more, ridding you of any regained composure and pulling a mewl from you.

Tech’s eyes were narrowed on you. “Stand up.” It didn’t take more than the firmness in his voice to put you on your feet.

As you stood, he tugged your wrist closer. His voice was steady and low as he said, “Come here.”

You only needed one step to shift over to him. Tech looked up at you, head tilting to the side as he considered you. Maintaining his hold on you, he pushed out of his seat to stand with you.

You’d somehow forgotten how much taller he was than you.

Tech’s head tilted to the other side and he twisted your arm, not to a painful angle but enough to bring you forward another obedient step. His eyes lit up at your immediate compliance.

He brought a hand to your chin, holding you in place as he mused, “I must’ve misheard you, could you repeat the last thing you said?” 

Resisting the urge to lean into his touch, you repeated with much less of your earlier confidence, “I said, don’t get a hold of yourself, Go-”

Tech angled down to your eye level, cutting you short.

Tech was playing this by ear. He’d not considered the option that your incessant interest sat with him. That paired with the fact that you were an entirely new scenario for him, this was a complete experiment for him. One that he was rapidly enjoying.

“Care to try that again?” He said drawled.

You took a short, inhale on a gasp, caving into his touch. Your eyelids drooped as you breathlessly said, “Tech.”

A light smile appeared on Tech as he eased out of your space and dropped your wrist. All that remained was his hold on your chin and even that was mostly sustained by you leaning into him.

“I rather like this side of you.” Tech hummed, committing this sight of you to memory. “I think I’d like to see just how amenable you are to instruction.”

“Oh, I think we’d both be surprised.” Your eyebrows pulled together like you were pleading for him to try.

Tech chuckled, “If I said ‘on your knees?’” He hadn’t even finished the sentence and he felt you start to give way.

His eyes went wide and he moved with you, catching you by the elbows.

You stood frozen together, half crouched and sharing a stunned expression until Tech broke the silence, “Perhaps we continue this… experiment in a more private setting?”

You nodded along with his suggestion. “Yes, please.”

Tech’s eyes twinkled at your response. He brought you both to full height again and eagerly added,  “Promptly, if that’s alright. I’d like to hear more of that from you.”

tags: @baddest-batchers @bruh-myguy-what

[starrylothcat]

Don’t know if you’re taking requests so disregard otherwise BUT… from your recent prompt reblogs, I’m loving:

“you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me” writer’s choice on the clone hehehe you know I’m just obsessed with your work-Alex🫶⭐️💙

Taken

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader

WC: ~900

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Possessive Tech. PiV sex. Fem receiving cunnilingus. Established relationship. Tech being a lil dom? Jealous? Sexy?

A/N: ALEX! HI and THANK YOU FOR THIS PROMPT! Tech immediately came to mind. I have no excuse. Thank you so much for this. I hope you like this lil’ treat!

Smut Prompts

When Tech appeared behind you at the bar, his hand sneaking around your waist, you knew you were done for.

“She is taken.” Tech’s voice was low, almost lethal to the two men who approached you at the bar as you ordered drinks for you and Tech.

There was something in his voice that pooled desire between your legs, a possessive tone that you’d never heard before, and you already knew you wanted more of.

His grip tightened around your waist, standing up straighter as the two men rolled their eyes, before slinking away.

You turned to look up at Tech, who was staring down at you, something hungry flashing behind his goggles.

Before you could speak, you were whisked into a cramped supply closet, your pants pulled down to your ankles and Tech’s mouth and hands encompassing your entire being.

“You are mine...” Tech murmured against your stomach, his kisses trailing lower as he knelt before you. Tech hauled you up on a crate, giving himself better access to where you were so desperate.

Tech hooked his fingers under your panties, tugging them down to your thighs. You broadened your legs, giving him a better view of what lay between. You watched his eyes widen slightly under his goggles, studying your glistening pussy that was spread before him.

“…and I take care of what belongs to me,” Tech smirked as he buried his face in your pussy, a cry leaving your lips, your hands flying to grasp his hair.

His tongue instantly went to practiced work, knowing exactly what made you mewl and writhe in delight. Tech gripped your thighs, his dominating mood making you even more wet between your legs.

Tech let out a soft moan as he flicked his tongue at your clit, watching you for your reaction, which was immediate. You gasped his name, clutching his head even tighter, rocking your hips against his face to chase your release.

“You always taste so divine, darling.”

Tech mumbled into your soft folds, switching between fucking you with his tongue and swirling around your swollen nerve.

“A taste only I have the privilege of savoring.”

You could barely register his husky praise, pleasure building in your lower abdomen.

Tech now had one hand pinning you down, keeping you still as he focused solely on your clit. “Mine…” He murmured. “All mine. Come for me, darling.”

Tech watched as all the muscles in your body tensed, your legs shaking around his shoulders, ecstasy exploding in every nerve in your body. Your climax hit you like a tidal wave, pleasure washing over you with each pass of his tongue. Tech pressed a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, gasping into his palm in bliss.

Tech drank every drop you gave him, not wanting to leave a mess behind.

He lifted his head, eyelids hooded, his face shiny with your release. His lips were on yours in an instant, his tongue exploring your mouth, sharing your juices with you. Tech rocked his hips into yours, feeling his hard cock against your thigh under his pants.

“I’m yours, Tech.” You gasped between kisses. “Always. Always yours.”

“I have never doubted it.” Tech whispered, pulling away momentarily to tug down his pants, lining himself up with your entrance.

He slid in slowly, inch by inch, both of you savoring the feeling of him filling you and your silky walls gliding against his cock.

Tech bottomed out into you, his body shuddering.

“I didn’t realize you…” You gasped, “had a jealous streak.”

Tech smirked, pushing himself as deep as possible into you, hitting that spot that made your vision go fuzzy.

“It is expected that other men would want to proposition you, ” He nipped at your neck, pulling out slowly and gliding back in. “Due to your pleasing appearance and personality.”

You couldn’t help but blush at his compliment, which was silly considering he was fucking you senseless in a dusty closet.

“Though I do have to admit…knowing that only I have the honor of hearing your alluring sounds and feeling your perfect body…”

Tech increased his pace, sweat forming at his temples, his moans becoming harder to keep quiet, as he pounded into you.

“It makes me want to claim you even more.” He panted in your ear, nudging a finger to your clit.

Another orgasm crashed over you, biting your lip to stifle your cries as Tech’s hips stuttered, feeling you clench and flutter around him as you came. Tech groaned, thrusting in one last time before spilling inside you, truly marking you as his.

Tech pressed his lips to your neck, slowly pulling out of you. He reached into one of his many pockets, pulling out cloth to help clean you up.

“Holy kriff, Tech.” You half-whispered, half-laughed, slightly delirious from the intense fucking. “That was-“

“Was it too much?” Tech looked sheepish, bringing a hand to your cheek. “I am not sure what came over me-“

You shook your head, placing your hand over his.

“It was hot.”

Even in the dimly lit closet, you could see his cheeks darken.

“I am glad it was enjoyable.” Tech touched his forehead to yours. “Though I am not quite finished.” That husky tone returned, his arm snaking around your waist, bringing you close to him.

He brought his lips to your ear, whispering dirty promises of what he still wanted to do to you when you were back on The Marauder.

You shook against him, feeling his fingers dance under your shirt, goosebumps following in their wake.

“I am not done taking care of you. Not yet.”

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Dividers by @dystopicjumpsuit

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌) ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS YOU TAKE CARE OF NANAMI ALL YOUR LIFE -- AND HE DOES THE SAME FOR YOU ? ❞

✧ pairing: nanami kento x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: throughout your years of jujutsu tech, you take care of kento, whether its a wound from a curse or a simple cut his finger -- and when he returns he finds you still ready to take care of him -- even after shibuya.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, hurt / comfort w/ a happy ending, domesticity, jjk canon compliant au (because nanami is alive) reader is the same age as nanami, set during through the events of star plasma vessel to end of jjk, nanami getting hurt and reader taking care of him, reader gets a cold and nanami takes care of her, jealous! nanami, kitchen counter sex, soft dom! nanami, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing

✧ wc: 7,657

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 3 has been sold to two anons!

“Show me,” Nanami furrows his brow in reply, jaw set as he glares, but he knew no amount of staring would get you to let this go. You stood in the doorway of his dorm room — your room was clear across on the other side where the girls resided, so he wondered for a split second how you knew he returned when it had barely been an hour, but answered his own question without having to utter a word (Haibara). 

“It’s not bad. It’ll heal by itself—“ and you’re shaking your head, and his lips purse, “it really isn’t worth speaking to Ieiri about — it’s not a wound, just a bruise—“ 

But still you stood, as immovable as ever — and he finally relented, unbuttoning his jacket, as he shrugged it off, unable to hide his wince as he revealed the large bruise that colored his skin in red, his skin peeling and angry, and surely would turn into a lovely mish-mash of purple and blue. 

You brush past him into the dorm room, as you brought a first aid kit in, setting it on the bed, turning your head before tilting it as if to say, “well?” 

He repents, as he always did with you — he knew a battle of wills with you was as unwinnable as a battle of jujutsu with Gojo — not to mention needlessly frustrating. He sat at the edge of his bed, eyes fixed to the floor, as you grabbed a washcloth from the kit, heading for his bathroom. He hears the sounds of water running, and the squeak of the faucet closing. 

You return as you lift his arm slightly, rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt to his shoulder. 

Your touch is gentle — Nanami was always surprised at how gentle you always were. With the line of work you all did, it was easy to be rough, to find smooth edges corroded and jagged, but no, you remained as smooth and soft as you always were. 

He flinches when you bring the wet washcloth to raw skin, and you’re careful even as you seemingly pick out pieces of gravel and dirt stuck in his flesh. And you frown at the sight of it, doing your best to clean every bit. 

“So what happened?” you ask, and he gives a terse chuckle. 

“Didn’t Haibara tell you?” And you shrug, “I know he told you we’re back,” and your lips curl ever so slightly as your eyes meet him, a small amount of mirth returning. 

“Maybe I’m just a stalker,” and he can’t bite back the small smile on his lips, “Haibara told me you didn’t go to Ieiri, and that you got hurt protecting him on your mission,” 

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head, “Ieiri was busy dealing with Haibara, he got it worse than I did—“

“Even if your injury is less serious, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t look after yourself,” and he sighs, as his eyes slide to you, “you need to learn to care about yourself, Nanami,” 

And he knew you were right on some level — he didn’t have a delusion of invincibility and he also didn’t have a strong enough desire to strive to be stronger, but — his fingers grasp at his sheets —that didn’t mean he wanted to see his friends die. “You don’t have to do this,” he says again, and you don’t meet his gaze when he looks over at you, your brow set in concentration, “it’s not important—“ 

“Nanami, you don’t ever seem to value yourself properly,” you finish cleaning his arm, before grabbing bandages and tape from the kit, “you are important — even if you don’t think you are,” 

And he opens and shuts his mouth — before a smile pulls at his lips — you were far too kind, especially for a jujutsu sorcerer. 

And then you add, “and if you don’t get your wounds tended to, I’m going to tell Gojo you want to take a sweets tour of Tokyo,” 

…maybe he spoke too soon. 

~~~~

“How did you manage to hurt yourself so badly during training?” You offer Nanami a makeshift ice pack, a small cloth wrapped up with ice from his freezer, and his lips pursed in disgust as his reply, “ah, Gojo,” the mattress shifted under his weight as he sat, 

“That arrogant idiot,” Nanami grumbled, as he pressed the ice pack to the back of his head, “his excuse was that he didn’t know his own strength — he’s lucky that he had infinity or I would have—“ 

You chuckle, “You know he’s just messing with you, it’s just because you react,” and he scowls at his floor of his room, as if his carpet was the six eyes sorcerer itself, “he’s not so bad—“ 

He raises an eyebrow, his mouth parted in disbelief, “Are you defending him right now?” And you chuckle, as you lean back against the side of his bed, your head leaning back against the soft comforter that you had bought him and guaranteed would help him sleep better (it only guaranteed that you would be asleep underneath it half the time they spent in his dorm relaxing). 

You wave him off, “Lower your blood pressure. I’m not defending him, I’m just saying, it can’t be easy being the strongest — all those eyes on you, the way people treat you, the—” 

“The weight of your overinflated ego that you have to carry around—” and you roll your eyes, and the action bites at his last nerve, because he thought if anyone would have his back, it would be you — the next words spit like venom out of his mouth, “I thought you were better than those girls that moon over Gojo,” 

And he regrets the words as they leave his lips, as you stare at him wordlessly — not with anger, but frustration — which hurts all the more, “If I was so in love with Gojo, then why am I with you instead of him?” He doesn’t have a reply as you rise to your feet and make your way out the door, the click of the door far too deafening, leaving him with a throbbing in his head — but not just from being hurt. 

His fingers curled tighter around the ice pack. Because why—why did the thought of you liking Gojo make his chest ache—the idea of your care and time spent on someone else, not even Gojo, but anyone else, made his stomach churn at the idea. 

He had told himself when he decided to become a sorcerer, he would do anything to avoid relationships — even friendships if he could do so. When you work a job like this, it can only end in disaster. but— his eyes slide to the closed door you had just left through. 

Why did this feel so much worse?” 

~~~

“You can’t stay here all night,” your voice cuts through the silence of the morgue — the only life left in the room. Because he too had died along with Haibara. 

Or rather he should have. 

He kept the towel over his eyes, unmoving from his chair, head resting back against the cold metal — as if it would protect him — from seeing Haibara sliced half over and over, last words dying on his lips said in pure chaos but somehow Nanami could still hear them ring in his ears— just as the sick crumple of his torso hitting the ground after being ripped from his body. The words leaving his lips as the last vestiges of life left his body, fingers twitching as his lips moved—

You got it from here. 

The hopeful optimism from a person seconds before death did little to comfort him. Not when that person should have been the one who lived. He had the one thing that was so rare in his shit world of jujutsu — kindness—

The very thing that left half his body lying against a metal slab.

“I can’t leave until…” he trails off, he didn’t wish to leave until his body was inspected and then taken to be…disposed of. He knew it was for the best that his body is turned to ash, but it made it no easier to consider the person that he knew to be his best friend would be nothing but ash in a few hours time, “I won’t leave him alone,” 

You nod, and the silence makes him wonder if you’re leaving, but instead he hears footsteps and the slight scraping of a metal chair against the floor. And he feels the slight brush of you beside him as you sit. 

And you don’t say a thing. The only thing is that your fingers brush his tentatively and when he doesn’t pull away you intertwine them. And that’s enough—for now. 

Until they take his body away. 

A sorcerer glances at the two of you, “Do either of you have contact with next of kin? We need to notify—“ 

“I’ll handle it,” Nanami says, the towel pulled away from his gaze, hoping his dark bags and red tinged eyes aren’t noticeable to you, but he sees the purse of your lips and knows they are. 

The sorcerer shifts, “Have you considered asking his family for—“ 

“That’s not an option,” Nanami cuts him off with a stare, and the sorcerer parts his mouth before shutting it again with a nod, “okay, please allow us to take his body,” 

And they do, pulling the sheet down ever so slightly that Nanami sees a flash of his face — no hint of that smile he always unfailingly had on his lips — it too was gone, just like he was. And they carefully wheel his body away — assumedly to be burned. And the door swings shut behind them — leaving only him and you. Silence hangs over the room, the finality of the moment leaves nothing in its wake but regret. 

And regret only felt hollow — just as his heart did. 

You choose to break the silence, a shaky sigh leaving your throat, as you quickly scrub tears away from your face, clearing your throat, “Come on, let’s go—”

“You can go ahead, I’m going to stay here for a while,” and your eyes try to find his own, but he still stares at the spot where Haibara’s body had laid for hours. The essence of cursed energy was almost too easy to understand compared to the concept of death — a person can be living, breathing, and talking one day to be nothing but a husk the next. And now, he knew it would be a lifetime of feeling as if something is missing — as if something was wrong — and moments where it felt fine would be overcome by only guilt and anger. 

What was the point of all of this? His fingers formed into fists, nails digging into his palms — were they nothing but pawns to be used in an unending game that forced sorcerers to not only to put their lives on the line, but their colleagues as well. A twisted game that only ended in a pile of corpses. 

“Nanami, you can’t stay here all night—” 

“I’m fine,” he rubs at his temples — and how long would it be until he’s staring at your body on that slab? Or maybe you’d be staring at his own—crying over his body just as he had done for Haibara, “you can go—” 

“I’m not leaving you, and you shouldn’t stay here — you need sleep—” 

“You don’t have to take care of me,” he snaps, his gaze meets yours, “I’m not injured, I didn’t even get hurt— ” 

“Yes you did,” you say quietly, as you step closer to him, but his eyes refuse to meet your own. 

“No—” and your hand finds his chest. 

“This pain is worse than any physical pain you could put in — and I wouldn't leave you to deal with a bruise by yourself, so what makes you think I’d leave you now?” you say softly, and tears burn at his eyes, as your hands gently pull him into your arms, his head buried against your chest, “I’m not leaving you, Nanami,” you murmur quietly, as your fingers slowly run through his hair. 

And you didn’t — he was the one who left you. 

~~~~

You never get sick. That’s what you loved to brag about — especially yesterday when you got home from spending an entire two days in the rain soaking wet and ice cold without a hint of cold symptoms. 

You supposed your bragging was a curse in and of itself because now you were buried under your comforter. You barely manage to text Shoko that you’re sick and you won’t be able to make it to class today. And now you had to wonder if it was worth the effort to get out of bed to take your medication or to simply sleep it off.

But your body made the choice for you as your eyes fluttered shut and you slipped into a fitful sleep, body burning from the inside out. 

Consciousness faded in and out, as you felt something brush against your forehead, your eyes heavy as they open ever so slightly, a flash of blue and blond, before you fall back into sleep. 

Your head aches, muscles heavy, and the smell of spices wafted through the apartment, “Are you finally awake?” a voice said, as your eyes flutter open, still burning at the corners as your head turns. 

“Nanami?” You croak out, throat raw and dry, as if your flesh was raked across coals, “what are you—“ 

He turns his head from your kitchenette — a ladle in hand, before he sets it down, wiping his hand with a dishcloth. And he steps over to your bed, pulling the washcloth from your forehead, before placing a cold washcloth, “your fever went down a little,” he said, “but I brought cold medicine and I made some soup for you,” 

“You didn’t—“ 

“Have to?” his lips quirked up, “I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to,”

“How did you know I was—“ and his eyes find yours, “Shoko,” and he nods, you relax back into your bed, “how long have you been here?” 

He turns back around to finish cooking the soup for you, stirring, the metal of the ladle slightly clinking against the sides of the pot, his eyes flicker to your clock, “About an hour and half, hasn’t been too long,” 

“Why are you taking care of me?” you mumble, glancing at his back, as he lifted the ladle to pour into a small bowl to taste the seasoning of the soup, “you don’t owe me anything—“

“I owe you a lot,” he cuts you off, the clatter of the bowl against the counter as he sets it down, the click of the stovetop as he shut it off, “but that’s not the reason I did it,” and your brow is furrowing under the washcloth, as he walks over to you, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Then why?” 

And he raises an eyebrow, “Why do you think?” And his fingers brush your cheek, “you’re the only reason I’ve stayed here as long as I have, otherwise I would have left, a long time ago,” and you don’t know how it’s possible for your face to grow warmer but it does from his words and his touch that lingers against your cheek. 

And he’s gone as quickly as he came, going over to the stove to take out a bowl of soup for you to drink, “can you stay after I finish eating? Until I fall asleep?” You ask, as he brings the bowl over, as you sit up slowly, head spinning as you do still. 

“Of course,” and he does, staying by your side after you eat and take your medicine, hearing your quiet murmur, “thank you, Kento,” 

And he realizes, as his lips curl into a smile, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, just how much he liked hearing his name on your lips. 

~~~

“How did you manage to hurt yourself on our last mission together as students?” you sigh, the worry in your voice making his lips curl — as the two of you had just found yourselves in his dorm room, as you rifle through his bathroom to pull out the first aid kit you had given him (after you had learned he didn’t own one). 

You return to him sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his hand up in such a way that he didn’t drip blood all over his sheets. Your fingers brush his own, and he’s still surprised at how soft your hands are. His hands had grown rough from the years of jujutsu, calloused from the grip of his fingers around his blade handle, but somehow, yours were always as soft as he remembered them. 

Your fingers found his, warmth blooming as your brow wrinkled as you scruntized the cut on his hand, “Maybe we should ask Shoko to look at it—” 

“There wasn’t any cursed energy that cut me — it was just—” 

“Debris, I know,” and this seemingly did little to soothe your worries,  had gotten when pushing you out of the way of the curse, “I had it handled — you shouldn’t have dove in—” 

“It’s fine, it’s not that bad—” but your glare cuts off his sentence, as you begin to clean the wound. 

You shake your head, “What am I going to do with you? Every time you go on a mission, I’m going to be worrying about what trouble you’re going to get yourself into,”

He’s silent, his eyes unable to meet yours — he can’t keep hiding this from you. He had made the decision months ago — and it was only a matter of time before someone else slipped up and told you (most likely Gojo). 

“I’m leaving after graduation,” he says the words like ripping off the bandage, but it hurts him all the more when your fingers are still for a moment, your eyes finding his own, as you stare at him. 

“You’re—” you cut off, and you don’t protest, you don’t argue — you only ask one question — “Why?” 

And that one question was more difficult to answer than any other you could have asked, a sigh stuck in his throat, as he shook his head. 

“I can’t do this anymore — I haven’t wanted to since—” he cuts off, mouth impossibly dry — it was easy to tell Yaga he wasn’t going to continue, even easier to take care of half a dozen grade 2 curses at once — but this was— “I can’t stand by and watch my colleagues die one by one beside me — I don’t want to live like this. I’m sorry—” 

“You don’t have to be sorry, Kento,” his heart squeezes at the sound of your voice wrapped around his name — what you had taken to calling him recently — “as long it’s what you want. I know it’s been difficult—I was surprised you hadn’t left when—” and your voice falters, neither of you could bear to bring up his name, refusing to even utter it around the other — as if it would summon every horrible memory from that time—and your voice is soft, “I just want you to be happy,” 

And there’s nothing more than he wanted to be the one to make you happy — nothing more than he wanted to ask you to be by his side, let him be the one to take care of you, and nothing more he wanted than to ask you to leave with him—

But that was the one thing he could never ask you to do. 

Just as you would never ask him to stay for you. 

“I want you to be happy too,” he murmurs, as you continue to clean his cut, before your fingers are moving to grab the bandages, slowly beginning to wrap them around his palm, “more than even myself,” 

“What’s new?” he wrinkled his brow, and you chuckle, “I mean, you never put yourself first, and I’m glad you are now. You deserve to be happy, even if it’s not….here,” and you finish bandaging his hand, but his fingers curl around yours, “Ken—“ 

He squeezes your hand softly and his words are just as soft,  “You would be the only one who could ever make me happy,” and he hears your breath catch, and it only makes him want to steal it from your lips with his own, “because I know that being by your side would be only thing that could satisfy me,” 

Your fingers brush against his cheek, “Too bad I’m apparently in love with Gojo—“ you tease, all too pretty smile as you do, and his lips draw even closer, “Kento—“ 

“And if you’re so in love with Gojo, why are you here with me?” And he waits, waits for you to pull away, to stop him, to show any indication you didn’t want this—

But you close the gap instead, lips barely brushing his, so chaste, and yet it’s a spark to kindling — a fire neither of you should have lit. And yet, his lips find yours, insistent, his fingers cup your cheek, featherlight touch drawing a shiver down your body that he relishes in. 

“Kento—“ 

“Why is it my name on your lips?” And he kisses you again and again, your noses brushing each other’s, he’s murmuring your name like a prayer, and if it was, he would worship at your altar each day, “Why it is that you’re kissing me?” 

And your lips curl against his, as they find his again, “You kissed me first,” and he can taste the sweetness of the melon bread you had shared with him that morning, but something even sweeter that only be you, “so why did you do that?” 

But you knew why — especially from the smile gracing your features, one that he wished he could have etched in the inside of his mind, “Isn’t it obvious?” and your lips part to answer, but he cuts you off with another brush of your lips, “I love you,” 

And your eyes widen only slightly, but you’re kissing him again, arms curling around his neck, fingers sliding behind his neck — “Figured that out when you got jealous of Gojo, but I’m glad you admitted it,” and your forehead finds his, “and that I love you too,” 

You loved him — you loved him — he had to tell himself again and again, but he still couldn’t fathom it. Was it a dream? You were always a dream to him — something he could nearly grasp with his fingers, but always remained just out of reach. 

And now he held you in his hands and he never wanted to let go. But he had to — he knew he had to. 

So he would — even if it would hurt — hurt that no bandage would fix. 

He kissed you again, unless you were the one to place it. 

~~

“Why is it that I always find you like this?” Nanami’s eyes slowly met yours — he sat in Ieiri’s office, waiting to be seen, only find you there in the doorway instead, “it’s as if you’re asking to be patched up by me, Kento,” 

How long had it been? And somehow he knows the answer before even thinking about it — it had been nearly a decade. A decade since the two of you had graduated — you moving to Kyoto to help run the campus there, while he had moved onto a regular college and then a corporate job — one that had nearly sucked his soul dry of any life he had to begin with. And it was only when he had received gratitude for the first time in a long time — that he remembered the reason he had stayed a jujutsu sorcerer after Haibara…

And now, here was the other. 

He murmurs your name, nearly sounding foreign on his lips, “How did you—” 

“I ran into your student, Nanamin,” and he furrows his brow at the nickname — Itadori’s little name for him after he had refused to be his sensei. Because he wasn’t one — Gojo may have taken up the mantle of teacher for his own personal ego trip — but he wasn’t ready to form relationships like that. And yet…his lips curl, there you were, “didn’t think you wanted to be a teacher,” 

“I don’t, but how can I refuse that white haired idiot?” he half grumbled with a sigh, eyes still slowly grazing over you, “but I don’t want to talk about him right now,” 

You draw a step closer, shutting the door behind you, a lilt in your voice as lovely as your grin, “Then what do you want to talk about?” and you stop right in front of him, as your fingers reach out, and he’s nearly leaning into your touch, but he’s wincing, as your fingers press against his bruised body, “because I want to talk about how you ended up in such rough shape,”

A sigh stuck in his throat, his next words nearly along with it, “It could have been much, much worse,” he murmurs, “if Itadori wasn’t there, I—” he breaks off, “that special grade — he could touch my soul and it had caught me in its domain—”

And your arms are pulling you into a tight hug, your fingers running through his hair, “But you’re here, you’re okay,” you murmur softly, your palm pressed against his chest, you can feel his heart pump under your fingers, “you made it,” 

“But—” 

“But nothing, Kento, you’ll make it back every time,” your fingers cup his cheek, pressing your forehead against his, “right?” 

Your touch was the only thing that could truly make him feel whole again — as if every crack in his soul had been mended with gold, “how do you know?”

And your lips curl into a soft smile, your head tilting ever so slightly, “Because you love me, right?” 

The chuckle on his lips is nearly enough to bite back his nerves as the words leave his lips, “I’ve loved you for years, sweetheart, that’s nothing new,” 

You’re shaking your head, “And all these years, we always found our way back to the other, right?” your hand finds purchase on his shoulder now, the other against his cheek, “so we just have to keep doing that,” 

“You make it sound so simple,” he murmurs, and your lips find his — and it makes him wonder how he had spent so much time without your touch, because right now it was the only thing keeping him whole — stealing the doubts from his head and the aches from his body — leaving only heat filling the empty gaps left behind.

“It is simple,” your hand interlaces with his, “if we let be.” 

~~~

“I’m starting to think you hurt yourself on purpose around me more now that we’ve moved in together,” you examine the small cut on his finger, a nick from the knife that the ratio sorcerer had been using to slice his freshly baked loaf of bread. Scarlet slipped from the small cut, and his soft murmur of ‘ouch’ unfortunately had not gone unheard by you. He swore you must have selective hearing — you wouldn’t listen when he told you to go to bed, but you’d hear him hiss in pain under his breath even when half asleep on 

“It’s not too deep, I think just a bandage should be fine,“ Your brow knit together as you purse your lips, and he bit back his smile, knowing it would only serve for him to get scolded for not being more careful. 

“It’s nothing, love, I can take care of it—“ and his breath catches when your lips find their way around his finger, sucking slightly to ease the bleeding, your tongue flicking over the cut, “sweetheart—“ he swears under his breath, a distinct flush burning at the crown of his cheeks, “what—“ 

“They say saliva can help a cut heal faster,” you smile, before pulling a bandage out of the first aid kit you had pulled out, and your lips press a sweet kiss to his cut again, a smirk as you meet his gaze, “Ken—” 

And he’s kissing you, your body tenses a moment only to melt into his touch, your arms wrapping around his neck — he can taste his blood on your lips, raking your fingers through his hair. He can only think about getting closer, closer, closer — he needs you. His hands slide down your back, until they find your hips, squeezing, as he presses himself to you. 

“Baby,” you murmur breathlessly, as your lips part his, a gasp that turns to a soft moan when his lips press heated kisses down your jaw. His nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, as he presses you against the counter of his apartment, his hands slide down, large palms grasping your ass, “I need—” 

“What do you need?” his fingers sneaking up and down the sides of your body. His teeth graze your pulse, your head falls back, exposing more of your neck to him, as his tongue soothes the mark he left behind, “because you know I’ll give you anything you ask for, sweetheart,” 

And his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he lifts you onto the counter, calloused palms pressing your legs apart — but he barely has to, your thighs already spreading for him. And he finds your shorts nearly soaked through — your drenched cunt visible even through the two layers of fabric stuck together from your arousal. 

But you don’t need to ask for him to know what you want — it’s second nature, it’s instinct for his fingers to dip inside the waistband of your shorts and underwear alike, tugging them both down, until you were kicking them off. 

“Is all this for me?” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to your inner thigh, as two fingers graze down your slit, gathering your pre on his fingertips, before he meets your gaze only to lick his fingers clean, “I was never one for sweets — except when it came to you. Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” 

Your head lolls back, as his thick fingers circle your clit with practiced ease, pulling back only to drag his tongue up the length of your needy cunt. And your eyes find his again, heady gaze heavy with need and his pretty lips and chin already glossy with your juices. 

“Kento—fuck,” your fingers thread through his blonde locks. First, one finger sinks in and then another — 

his nose bumping against your clit as his tongue stretches your walls in tandem with your fingers, grinding against his face, “s’good, I can’t—“

But he’s relentless, the wet squelch of your messy walls and your choked out moans ring in his ears and are nearly enough to make him cum right in his pants — already far too tight, blood rushing downwards far too quick. 

Another

“Such a good girl,” Kento murmurs, and you are, so perfect — “just let me take care of you,” 

“Kento, please, more, need—“ and his lips find your clit, tongue flicking against the hardened bud, before sucking long and hard, while a third finger joins the other two. Your back arches, the coil in your stomach grows tighter and hotter — your slick dripping from your messy hole onto the counter. 

His fingers squeeze at your flesh, and he could live between your legs forever — it could be his meal morning, noon, and night — he could spend hours lapping at you until you fell apart over and over. His fingers stretch you out far too deliciously, and your walls are giving that telltale flutter. 

“Kento—g’nna cum—I—“ and his fingers are fucking you harder and his lips close around your clit, sucking hard, until you’re moaning his name, muscles growing tight as you fall apart. You’re a mess, your fingers trying to press his head impossibly closer as you grind against him, riding out your orgasm, as your juices gush over his face — and he’s lapping up every drop, as you fall limp against the counter, his arm slipping around your back to support you. 

Your eyes flutter open to watch him pulling away with a pop, strings spit and cum connecting you to your cunt. His gaze drags over you, watching your juices drip against the counter, as he murmurs quiet praises, licking his lips clean of your release. 

And your fingers find his cheeks, pulling him into a deep kiss, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips, the filthiness of it all enough for his cock to grow even harder against your thigh. And it’s a matter of moments, before your fingers are tugging at his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his erection, his pretty cock all but ready for you — lovely ruddy head dripping with pearly white beads of precum. 

“Look at what you do to me, love,” he murmurs, as your eyes meet his, gaze blown out in lust. 

“Kento, please,” and his lips curl, his fingers raking through your hair, as he pulls you even closer, his erection bumping against your sopping pussy, “I want—“ 

He drags his cock over your slit, watching his pre mix with your release, the two of you groaning when his tip catches on your clit, “what do you want sweetheart? Tell me, tell me what you need,” his arms are hooked around your knees, pressing them to your chest. 

You keen when his tip teases your sopping hole, “I need you to fuck me—“ and you’re whining as his cock pressed into you, splitting you open on his length — and god you could never get used to how big he was — you could feel very pretty vein and delicious curve—

Fuck, he could bust just looking down at you, at the way your lips parted for him as he had sunk into you, the way he could see how your pussy stretched around his dick — like you were made for him. Pleasure ripped up his spine at the sight — his fingernails digging crescents into your hips. 

And he knew that he was certainly made for you. 

“S’good, s’full — please,” you’re nearly mewling, begging for him to move, “Kento—“ and he obliges, unable to hold back any longer, as he begins to slowly rock his hips against you, each stroke getting longer and deeper. His balls slap against your hips, as he picks up the pace — your walls squeezing around him. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, didn’t think you could get any tighter,” he grunts, his cock stuffed inside your walls, and he’s gritting his teeth, your soft moans and the noises of your pretty pussy becoming too much for him. White ring of release formed around his base — his balls growing tight as he inches closer and closer to blow his load, “you always can f’me, can’t you?” 

And he gives a particularly hard thrust, right as his lips find yours in a messy, sloppy kiss — all tongue and teeth, your head falls back when his tip finds your g-spot again and again. You squirt all over his length, soaking him and the counter with your release, as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again. Your toes curl when he finally comes, his release painting your walls with his thick, hot release — fucking it deeper and deeper, and he’s notching himself inside. 

You’re slumping against him, your eyes shut, as he pulls you closer into his arms, pressing sweet kisses all over your face until he finds your lips again. 

“I love you,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open as he cups your chin, a soft smile on his lips. 

“I love you more,” and he’s slowly lifting you, carrying you over to your shared bed, and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

“But what about your cut?” You mumble, and a chuckle on his lips, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, as he sets you down on the bed, grabbing a damp washcloth to clean you up. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ve done plenty,” he murmurs, as he finishes cleaning you up, only to slip into bed beside you — “let me take care of you.” 

~~~

It was over. 

That’s what Nanami had thought when Mahito had stopped him in his tracks, his hand pressed against his chest, but more importantly, against his soul. 

“I didn’t know you were here,” Nanami said, his eyes unable to tear away from the curse’s. 

He could barely feel anything anymore — the stinging had dulled somewhere between his trek down the winding tunnels of Shibuya station. Instead, he could only hear the echo of his footsteps, as he had forced himself to take one step forward over and over and over — and that’s when he had seen them. 

The congregation of curses or mutated humans — he didn’t know which they were, but did it really matter at this point? It didn’t. He dispatched them all the same — all while his thoughts were only filled of you — you, you, you and you. 

And a beach in Malaysia. 

“Yeah, Kuantan would have been nice,” and it would have been — it was only a few months away. The vacation the two of you had meticulously planned out. The days spent out walking the beach, lounging by the water with the books neither of you had never read, and nights falling asleep by each other’s side to the metronome of the waves crashing. 

And now, he had found himself, staring death in the face — an echo of his near death from only a few months ago. How had it come to this already? He had always felt he was running out of time — constantly watching the clock, trying to run it out for his retirement, only for it to run out before he could make it to those sandy shores he had dreamed of. 

“Yup. The whole time,” Mahito replies, lips in an easy smile, “Wanna chat? We go way back, after all,” 

Nanami’s eyes fall to the floor, the dirtied and bloodied tiles underneath his feet — he didn’t feel like spilling his guts to a curse. 

Haibara, what the hell was I trying to do? He asks in his mind, not even daring to say the words aloud, I ran. Even though I ran away, I came back with the vague reason of finding the work worthwhile. 

And then he sees Haibara, appearing in front of him, patented smile on his lips, as he points south — points right at— 

“Itadori,” Mahito says. 

“Nanamin!” his eyes wide as he takes in his state — horror painted on his face, already so helpless — what else had he seen and now he had to see this too? He shouldn’t have had to see this. He should have been a normal kid — worrying about normal things — not fighting monsters in some damned subway tunnel. 

But what could he do about what now? What could he do but stop? 

Could he finally stop? 

No, Haibara. That’s not right. I can’t say that to him. It’ll just end up becoming a curse for him. 

But it’s a curse every jujutsu sorcerer had to bear — made to bear until there were either no curses or no sorcerers left. 

But he couldn’t regret it now. 

“Itadori,” his lips curl, smiling for the last time, “you’ve got it from—“ 

And then there’s a crash — screaming, the sound of blood splattering. It takes him a minute to realize it wasn’t him. 

It was you. 

You had crashed between the two of them, sending the curse flying with your cursed energy, the impact drawing blood from you and Mahito alike. Your arm was around his body — and Nanami is whispering your name. 

“I told you, Kento, we’re always going to come home — even if I have to drag you there,” you say, your eyes still flickering between Itadori and Mahito, “Itadori, tske Nanami—“ 

“No, this is my fight,” he shakes his head, his fingers clenched into fists, “I almost let Nanamin die — I have to do this—“ 

“Yuji—“ you say, but he’s already barreling towards Mahito, and you’re whispering fuck, as you take Nanami in the opposite direction. 

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” and his eyes are barely able to stay open, as you help carry his weight alone the deserted subway, “I’m sorry—“ 

“Why are you sorry—“ but he’s barely awake along enough to hear your question, until it’s all black. 

It takes him several months to recover. Cursed energy healing could only do so much, especially since Ieiri was spread thin enough with everything between Shibuya, the Culling Games, and everything else that came after. 

Most of the brunt of his care had fallen on you — you changed his bandages, tended to his wounds, dealt with any signs of infection with help from Ieiri, and handled everything else around the house. 

“Why do you do all of this for me?” He asks quietly, one day while he sits, your back turned while you washed the dishes from lunch — the clinking of plates and the sound of water running that squeaks shut when he asks. 

You turn, lips in a frown, “what do you mean, Kento?” 

His fingernails dig into his knee, biting back a sigh, as you walk over after wiping your hands off, “it’s been months of you just…taking care of me. I don’t get it — I didn’t understand when we were students when you insisted on caring for me, and now…” he swallows, his throat still impossibly dry—even after all treatment, nothing still tasted the same, “I’ve just become a burden—“ 

You cup his cheeks, “Kento, you are never a burden to me—“ 

“But—“ 

“But nothing — wouldn’t you do the same for me if I was in your position?” But he’s shaking his head. 

“It’s not—“ 

“Kento, do you remember our first mission together?” he blinks, his brow furrowing, but you only smooth it with your fingers, “it was my first mission — I had barely gotten the hang of using cursed energy — I hadn’t even exorcised a curse before, but as always, jujutsu society had left children to bear the burden of survival amongst themselves,” and your fingers find his, “but you never left me alone. I froze in front of the curse. I didn’t know what to do with myself — even while you dealt with two others on your own — you still managed to save me, even though you managed to hurt yourself in the process,” your voice was soft, your hand finding his, lacing your fingers with his, squeezing his hand — but he’s not sure whether it’s to remind him you’re here or to remind yourself that he’s still here, “and you don’t remember it do you?” his lips purse, as his eyes can’t find yours, gaze cast downwards, but he hears you give a soft chuckle. 

“I look at you and I see all the ways a soul can bruise — because you’ve taken hits that weren’t yours to take — you’ve taken challenges that shouldn’t have been yours to bear,” your fingers skim over his cheeks, “even in what you thought were your last moments,” your voice breaks, swallowing back tears, “your thoughts were of others — of helping your students, of Itadori, of me—” you shake your head, “and you think I’m doing too much for you? I think you deserve so much more than me—“ 

“All I need is you,” his voice is breaking, swallowing thickly, “that’s all I ever wanted,” 

“Then just stay here with me — that would be enough for me,” you lean close and press your lips to his — and even still, the taste of your kiss was never any less sweet, “all I want is to come home to you, you think you can handle that?” 

His lips find yours again, as they always would, “I’ll show you.” 

~~~

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” and Nanami chuckles, his hands hooked around your knees and thighs, as your arms wrapped around his neck, your head resting on one of his shoulders, “Kentoooo, you don’t have to—“ 

“I want to, and I’m not going to risk it getting any worse by letting you walk on the sand — the sunset was painting the water in hues of gold, pinks, and purples — and the beauty of this beach was only made better by your presence, “just let me do this for you, love,” and you sigh, relenting, as you bury your face in the side of his neck. 

“My husband is so doting, just a small cut on sea glass makes you this crazy?” and he shivers slightly, but it’s not from the slight sea breeze tickling his nose, but from your nose brushing against your neck, “are we headed back already?” 

“How else will we treat your foot?” your hands slide over his bare skin — the skin still scarred as it always would be, an eye tucked away under an eyepatch — unable to be saved — but your husband was saved all the same, “unless Ieiri taught you how to used reversed cursed technique before our vacation,” 

“It’s really not that bad—” 

“Is this your first time being a patient?” and you pout, as he chuckles, vibration of his sweet laugh against your chest as you press yourself impossibly closer, especially when you see the looks of others as the two of you walk by. 

“It’s embarrassing to be carried like this,” you murmur, “come on baby, I can walk the rest of the way,” but he only hums, casting a small glance over his shoulder. 

“I like carrying you like this,” his lips curled in a smirk, “everyone knows you’re mine this way,” and your cheeks burn, and you kiss his cheek, pouting as you do, “we’ll be back on the beach soon enough — we have all the time in the world sweetheart,” 

And you did — you bury your face in the side of his neck again — with him— 

Always. 

✧ a/n: this has been a long time coming!! i feel like with every one of these fics i'm never happy with them, but then they end up being better than i remember. apparently i just don't like my writing very much haha. i hope you guys enjoy <3 it's been so long since i wrote nanamin, so i hope it came out good <3

✧ taglist: @1angel-digits1, @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone, @freaky-show, @strangehuman101, @nanamis-baker, @hanxyy, @chosobeee, @luneriaa, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @forest-fruits-jam, @unorthodoxfaithxx, @caelestine-the-caelicatto, @kenmei, @somrou, @spider-fan72, @missukiyo

[sunshine7queen]

The Halloween Party

Synopsis: Halloween has arrived where everybody can dress up as their favorite creature and characters. And today you struggled on thinking what costume to wear this year. With the help of your friends, you finally thought of one that will knock everyone out: to dress as the King of Curses himself. What will his reaction would be?

Pairing: Yuji/Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Content Warnings: 18+, full nelson, smut, breeding kink, Sukuna calls her Mistress, rough sex, reader being a dom queen, creampie, soft Sukuna in the end, a bonus ending included!

A/N: Hello everyone! This is the first time I've posted something like fanfic related but this idea has been stuck to my head in the holiday has started. I hope you all enjoy this ^v^ Also, sorry if the smut's not too perfect, it's been a while.

Today was Halloween, the one year where everyone celebrates the spooky holiday by dressing up in costumes and giving out candy.

Speaking of costumes, you were having trouble thinking what to dress as. And the reason is that because Gojo decided to plan out a Halloween party at Jujutsu Tech and of course, he even added a contest for the best Halloween costume.

Every year, you always come up with the scariest costumes that blow everyone away and even scare them too. So right now, you’re hanging out with Nobara and Maki at the mall in the search for costumes. Perhaps this will help you out for inspiration for your costume.

“Any luck?” Nobara asks you, wondering if anything sparks an idea in your head.

You looked around at the outfits, masks, and wigs but nothing catches your attention. You shake your head, “Nope.”

“Well, there has to be something for you.”

Maki then decides to pitch in to help you, “Have you ever thought about dressing as a vampire?”  

“I’ve already done that last year, don’t get me wrong, I love my vampire costume but I want to do something different.”

“Okay then, how about a witch?”

“No, I’ve done that too. And also, that’s what Nobara is dressing for the party.”

“It’s okay girl! We can both match but it’s your decision and I respect that.”

“Thanks Nobara.” You sigh; thinking what to dress as is making you feel exhausted and your friends took notice of this.

“Hey how about we take a break?” Maki suggests, “Let’s get something to eat and we can go look again before the party starts.”

“Sure. We can use a break, my head’s wiped out.” You laugh as they join in as you three make your way to the food court.

Taking a break was a good idea after all as you sip your favorite beverage. “Alright, we still have time but we can talk ideas here in the meantime.”

“Well,” You lean your head back, “I want my costume to be scary this year, something that will scare their pants off.”

Nobara hums as she thinks of an idea. “Something scary huh? I think it would have to be that’ll top off a werewolf, vampire, ghoul or zombie.”

“What could be frightening than them?” Maki asks.

She's got a point there; what could be more frighting and scarier than the classic monsters or legends?

It was at that moment when a smile crept on your face.

Nobara begins to chuckle, every time you make that look; an idea strikes in your head. “Oh! I recognize that look anywhere! What’s your big idea?”

You let out a dark chuckle through your lips, Nobara and Maki weren’t too sure if they should be scared or not by your behavior. Motioning your hands at them to lean closer, they scoot their seats next to you. “Listen, here. This is my idea…”

Whispering to them about your idea, the girls started to grin as you explain your costume idea. They have a feeling that this costume will definitely knock everyone’s socks out.

The three of you returned back to Jujutsu Tech, you told Nobara and Maki to get ready for their costumes so they can help you with yours. Five minutes later, Nobara and Maki came into your dorm. Nobara had on a cute witch outfit with a stuffed black cat in her right arm and holding a broom to her left. As for Maki, she’s a vampire with her hair down, slicking her front bangs back to make it more classic.

“Wow! You guys look amazing!” You gush over their costumes.

Nobara blushes at your compliment, “Aw thank you! Now, let’s get you ready for yours!”

“Let’s do it!” You cheered.

Hours later, it was finally finished. Nobara and Maki couldn’t help but stare at you in awe.

“So ladies, what do you think?” You curl your fingers, twirling them around your wig.

“Wow, I…” Nobara looks at you up and down. “I’m literally taken back right now. You look like a literal queen.”

“I usually don’t compliment that much, but you got my exception.” Maki smirks, showing her fake vampire fangs.

“Shall we get started?”

Meanwhile, outside of the courtyard, the entire place was decorated with lights in a form of pumpkins and ghosts, cutout paper of mini ghosts, a table filled with delicious food and sweet treats, and plenty of games to enjoy.

Everyone else is here, even the students of the Kyoto Sister school are here as well. Yuji is with his friend Megumi, along with Toge and Panda. Yuji decided to be Spiderman, he got his mask off right before the contest starts. Megumi didn’t want to dress up but was forced by Gojo who he eventually put him as a werewolf.

“I think you look great, Fushiguro!” Yuji gave him a thumbs up with a smile on his face.

Megumi’s brow twitches, he wasn’t enjoying this as much. “You know sensei had me wear this.” He crossed his arms.

“Yeah but, you gotta get into the spirit for this party. They’re already in the vibe of it.” He points at Toge and Panda. Apparently, Toge is dressed as Joker from Persona 5 for some reason but Panda told them that he got into it and wanted to try out.

For Panda, he wanted to go as a teddy bear but couldn’t find a suitable outfit in time, so instead he put a bear hat with ears along with a red ribbon tied around his neck.

“Hey, how’s everyone enjoying the party?” Gojo walks up to them, he’s dressed as Jack Frost with a blue hoodie with white linings to make them look like ice, brown pants and white shoes. He even brought a staff to match up.  

“I’m having a great time and you look fantastic, sensei!” Yuji replied.

Gojo smugly smirks as he chuckles, “I always look good in everything.”

“You look like a clown that’s what.” Gojo stares at the eye and mouth that appeared on Yuji’s cheek. Sukuna never understands the meaning of the holiday at all, he thinks that it’s lame to see everyone wearing abnormal outfits.

“At least I’m not stuck in a body as a vessel. Got anything to say to that?” He tilts his head as he still smirks. Sukuna grunts in frustration, but before he could make a comeback at Gojo, his mouth gapes with no words coming out.

“What is it? Cat got your tongue?” Gojo waited for a response but there was nothing but silence. “What’s the matter with him?”

Yuji was about to reply but he looks over his sensei’s shoulder as he got the same reaction as Sukuna.

“Yuji, you too?” Gojo turns around to see what was making his student to be baffled, and as soon as he turns his back around, he starts to chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned, so that’s why.”  

You enter the courtyard with your friends by your side. You got on a white kimono with a blue obi tied around your waist. Tattoos painted on your face to make it look like his, you even added the extra eyes as well. As for the finishing touch, you put a long pink wig you previously wore from one of your cosplays and red eye contacts to match the entire look.

Smirking at them, revealing your fangs. “Hello, brats.”

Everyone stares at you either in fear or in awe. You head towards Yuji, who’s blushing on how beautiful you look, even though you’re dressed as the guy who bullies him everyday, you really pulled it off.

You drag your press-on black nail, gently on his cheek where Sukuna is. “Shocked, my king? You look speechless.” Tracing his lips with your thumb; he felt shivers crawling up his back. His eye explore everywhere on your body, you got every single one of his markings correct.

You softly chuckled at his reaction, this is the one you were looking forward to. “Until then, see you later, tiger.” You kiss his lips as you let go. He quickly reverts back to his domain, leaving him a blushing mess.

“Are you all surprised?” They all nod their heads, never in their lives they would’ve seen you to be dressed as the King of Curses.

“Why yes, your Highness.” Gojo bows to you. Now he knows who will be the true winner of the contest. “And how about we leave these two lovebirds alone.” Gojo leads everyone so they can enjoy the rest of the evening while you and Yuji can have alone time.

“I was not expecting this at all.” He rubs the back of his head, giving you a closed eye smile.

“I bet and I’m taking a guess that he wasn’t expecting this either.” You nod your head right at the scar under his eye.

“Yeah, none of us did either. You look really gorgeous.” He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body closer, having your hands travel up to his chest.

You blush, “Thank you and I think you look really handsome, my hero.” You cup his cheek, leaning into his face, giving him a kiss as he kisses back.

And with that, you won the contest with your costume and as to celebrate this moment, you and Yuji dragged each other to your dorm where he’s sitting on a chair, holding your waist as you ride on his cock.

You made him remove his Spiderman suit, only showing off his firm muscles. You rode him as if your life depended on it. “Baby, I- I think he wants to be out now!” He stammers, continuing his thrusts in your drenched pussy.

You moan softly at his cock hitting every spot. “It’s okay, my love. You can let him out.” He shuts his eyes as tattoos begin to form on his body. And the scars under his eyes, have opened to reveal his ruby eyes.

“What inspired you to dress as me, darling?”

“Well, I had to think which costume to go as and what would be a better idea than to dress as one of the most feared being of the Heian Era?”

Sukuna couldn’t help but smile, he felt his heart beat through his tatted chest. “This is why I fallen in love with you.” He grabs the shoulders of your kimono, pulling it down slowly, revealing your bare breasts. “No bra? Were you waiting for little old me to see this?”

“And what if I did?” You press your breasts on his pecs. Both of you are feeling turned on right now with this sexual atmosphere. He wanted to claim you so badly to ram his cock and fill you with his seed, making you his forever.

“What are you waiting for?” You snap him out of his thoughts, dragging your nails down on his muscles. “Do you want to please your Mistress?” You nip his ear lobe then giving it a lick.

Whatever it is you’re doing, is really making him feral and having his cock inside you, throbbing erratically. Letting out a feral growl, he got up from his seat, holding you in his arms to have your legs wrap around his waist, pressed you against the wall as he gave you harsh thrusts. Moans escaped from your lips, hands gripping on his chiseled back. “Do you love this, Mistress?” He grits his teeth.

“Very much! Don’t stop pleasing your Queen!” The sounds of skin clapping and moans echoing across the dorm. He looks down where a white ring is coated around his cock, he throws his head back, grunting and stares at you again with hazy eyes. “Fuck! Me and our brat are enjoying seeing you in pleasure. Telling me how you look like a goddess and he’s right.” Sweat drips from his forehead to his muscles, glistening by the light of the moon. “I love you two so much.” You cry out, tears run down your face. “We both love you two.” Finally, you both reach to each other’s climax, as he seals your lips with his, drowning every moan and caressing your thighs.

He pulls you away from the wall, slowly removing his cock from your pussy, his cum leaks out as he pushes his seed back into you with his fingers. Sukuna carries you to your bed and pulls down the covers. He gently puts you down as he joins you. He wraps your waist with his arm, dragging his body to you.

“Are you hurt?” Sure he may be rough during sex but he does get carried away at times and doesn’t like seeing you in pain.

“Not at all.” You snuggle closer, staring him with loving eyes.

“You’ve made your Mistress very happy.”

“That I did, my Queen.” He purred.

You two kiss each other again as sleep took over your bodies, cuddling each other’s arms.

Bonus:

The day after, Yuji woke up with markings and bite marks on his body and sees you cuddling him in his arms. He then decides not to wake you up and enjoy the moment with his girl.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy the story! ^v^ Don't forget to comment, reblog and like! <3<3<3

[eatommo]

Hotshot [c.f.99]

CW: Poly!batchxreader, group sex, exhibitionism, oral sex (m&f recieving), double penetration, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, vaginal and anal creampie, multiple partners, cumshots, anal sex, ass eating, spanking, praise, authority kink, cucking? kinda?, implied recording of sex, mention of weapons, mentions of aftercare, overstimulation, post season 7 pre omega, dom/sub dynamics, allusions to subspace, slight degradation, shower sex, mutual pining lots of kissing, no clonecest, liberties for hunter's tattoo, reader has hair long enough to pull, reader gets picked up and carried, i probably missed something let me know!

A/N: 5.6k of pure smut, absolutely no plot here. All mistakes are mine, repost and let me know what/if you like <3

As you climb the steps to the Marauder, something about this mission feels different.  It's been months since you've been away from the boys, and almost as long since you cared.  

Since running away from the clutches of the empire and charming your way aboard the ship you've become an asset to the team even in just your companionship, but it was also nice to have someone around who wasn't a clone.  It made it that much easier to do recon, and also that much easier to infiltrate a group because your face wasn't spread across every corner of the Empire. 

However, the longer you stayed with them, the more you valued what made them different.  You learned who to go to for help with blaster trouble, and even learned to overlook Crosshair’s slights during your target practice.  You’ve also learned that Hunter was sensitive to flowers and strong scents and that he had the best-smelling soap aboard the ship (and never seemed to mind when you used it). Tech, on the other hand, was always great at making you feel included, but was always, always going to double-check anything you did to the ship ‘just in case.’ Echo might've been one of the most interesting people to talk to, during his work with the 501st and the glory days of working alongside some of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy he saw many planets and cultures that you had only dreamed about.   Wrecker, well, he was a big softy despite his talent for demolitions and overall penchant for violence, he was the first to volunteer to take you out and stretch your legs in a nearby city and to help you bring home rations (and a sweet treat or two) for the rest of the crew, and has even carried you home from cantina trips a time or two. 

They were closer than any other troop you'd seen, all depending and working so tightly and neatly together you'd think that adding you to the mix would complicate things but all you seemed to do was fit in like sand in the desert.   You fell into a routine, they'd leave you at the ship during more dangerous jobs, typically with Echo or Tech at your side to assist with any repairs as you kept the inside of the ship in order, and kept a close eye on any equipment and prepping rations and meals as they became available. 

After a stop on Batuu, in which you fought every urge to procure a Loth cat, instead letting Crosshair buy you a long thin vibroblade to appease you.  “I haven't given up by the way.” You shout over your shoulder, as you settle into your seat before the others.  

“I've thought so.” Tech, his voice more amused than anything.  “Let us not berate the woman so that she uses that thing on us, shall we? We are cleared for takeoff.” Wrecker chuckles at the idea of you brandishing the thin blade to any of them.  You could hold your own for sure, but you were no ARC trooper. 

You settle aboard, staying seated until you reach the upper atmosphere, locking your cloak away with your blade, settling back into the seat near the cockpit, and resting your head against the wall.   

“If you need rest, my bunk is open,”  Wrecker whispers his words and his voice contradicting each other.  He's gruff but his speech is soft like he's afraid to startle you, he's cleaning his blaster but leans forward to speak softly to you. “It's still the biggest bunk.” He smiles and with his helmet in his lap, you can see the intense scaring over the side of his head, and your fingers twitch at your side begging to caress it.

“I'm fine thank you.”  You beam at him surprised by the crack in your voice and not wanting to seem ungrateful for the gesture.  “I’m quite content out here.”  Wrecker blushes, as if embarrassed he even brought it up.  

You can hear the audible judgemental breath of Crosshair even from your position behind his back, as he examines his rifle, something amiss and there's a thick tension in the room you can't quite place.  Glancing around as they settle in for take-off, none of them seem to want to meet your eyes.  

“I didn't expect you all to get so shy, I thought maybe you were starting to warm up to me.”   You let your voice trail off, a hint of a tease that cuts into the thick tension in the air for a brief moment. Before Hunter sharply stands up and lets his feet carry him towards you.  

Last night’s mission for Rex was messier than any of you had expected and used up the last of your bacta supply.  Hence the trip to Batuu, and what you thought was a tense conversation about purpose or authority between the group.  You’d overheard something about keeping secrets when you’d greeted them at the ship’s ramp and the pinched nerve in Hunter’s jaw encouraged you to keep your mouth shut.  Since the tension between each of them has been as taught and dangerous as a tightrope.  As the long-haired clone approached you, you sat straighter, already apologizing for being difficult before he cut you off. 

Leaning down until he is practically whispering in your ear, "We are programmed to be professional first and foremost. And we are not always so shy."

Just sharing your space with him has your body reacting to him, vibrating in both fear and a sneaking feeling of arousal.  His breath is hot and you turn to look into his dark brown eyes, eyes you should be so familiar with. “I am not an officer, I do not bite, and there's no reason to be formal.” the sentence comes out as a squeak, and you try to hide embarrassment flashing through your cheeks. 

He smiles, his voice dips lower but is so soft you swear you can feel his words caress your skin, “Easy hotshot, we might like a woman who bites.”

Oh, oh wow. We.

In an instant, everything and all your feelings about them shift and change.  You spent the last few rotations convincing yourself it was normal to feel bubbly around them, they'd saved you, and they were providing for you.  This feeling, the unmistakable pull of longing and need in the pit of your belly, would complicate things.  

Hunter stands and departs the conversation with an ease you envy.  You take a deep breath and compose yourself just to look up and see the rest of the crew watching you, like a wounded animal, you catch just a glimmer of a blush in Echo’s face.  

Rex mentioned they were a tight-knit group he seemed shocked you fell in line with them, but hell you didn't expect this.  Each of them is in their thoughts as you glance around the ship.  Echo and Tech are busying themselves with the controls, but you can see Echo worrying his lip, and Tech turning his head to glance at you every few moments as if wondering what will happen first.  Or rather who?  

Crosshair stares at you, blankly like he's trying to read every line in your smile or every wrinkle in your clothes, your eyes click together and he smiles like a lothcat with a womprat in his teeth. “You're not intimidated by us?”  It's almost as if he's as shocked as the fact itself,   there's a cutting edge to the statement like you should be, and then a corner of his mouth turns up. “You like being here,” he tests the statement as if tasting the fact on his tongue, “with all of us.”

You smirk, doing your best to match the heat in his stare, “I am grateful. I've never felt so important or wanted,” you swallow thickly letting the heat in your body you know Hunter can sense, speak for itself,   “At least, not yet.” You shift in your seat glancing up at Hunter who is glaring hungrily at your chest as if he could hear your heart leap in your chest with every passing moment.  

 You glance up to the stars ahead of the ship, Tech looks like he's preparing the ship to jump to light speed.  The return mission, at its worst, should only take a few days and even less of that is travel, normally you're not one for long lightspeed trips but this time you wonder if it will be too short.

The way the crew looks at you makes your skin tingle, not sure if you’ve ever been paid this much attention before.  As the ship lurches into hyperspace, you let your head lull back to catch Hunter's attention, peering up towards his face as your chin hovers just a foot away from his codpiece.  

Doing your best to keep your breath even, a part of you wishes to stand and kiss him, but this time it’s your turn to feel shy.  You stand, brushing your chest across Hunter’s’ and waltzing over to lean against the control panel of the ship and the two quieter clones on this ship.

The moment Tech realizes you’re moving towards him his posture is stuck straight, but Echo only leans slightly towards you as you pass your hand over his shoulder.  Standing at the front of the ship has only allowed them all to stare at you, your heart skips a beat.  You see Hunter’s eye twitch, he is reading you like a book.

“Well,” you speak slowly and eloquently, playing into their curiosity, “How should we pass the time?”

“Come here.” the room's attention snaps to Crosshair, whose red-hot gaze is marring into your skin. Silence falls over the craft as Crosshair lifts a hand and gestures toward his empty waiting lap.   Slowly, Echo, Tech, and Wrecker turn again towards you but Hunter stays strong locked into some silent dialogue with his brother.  

You feel as if it is entirely dangerous to cross the space between the two. Yet your feet carry you without worry, and neither of them breaks until their vision is obstructed by your body. You turn facing the softened expression in Hunter’s eyes, and slowly lower yourself onto Crosshair's lap.  

Placing your hands on his knees to steady yourself, you lean back until your head is resting on his chest and his breath is hot against the shell of your ear. “Good girl.” 

His whispers send shivers down your spine and Hunter sinks to his knees in front of you, as Cross removes your shirt from over your head and the rest of the Batch descends upon you like wolves.  

As Hunter’s face presses against the softness of your hip, Tech's teeth graze your neck and Wrecker's hands smooth over your nipples, you're overwhelmed at their strength.  These are battle-hardened soldiers, Crosshair runs a calloused finger down your spine, and you're reminded how soft you are.  Your skin is plush and comforts all of Hunter’s senses as the boys proceed to lose themselves upon you, you're reminded of the comfort they provide for you, a safety net you never knew you craved and the appetite you never knew could become so hungry.  

Your canvas pants are ripped down the leg by Wrecker and Hunter’s combined efforts, the sound almost drowned out by a collection of panting wanton noises, and the scraps hit the floor out of sight.  

Hunter noses across the top of your panties, letting his breath fan over the sensitive skin of your pussy as you feel Cross shift his hips and push his hard cock into your ass.  All of them are in full armor, save for the helmets, yet you lie strewn out before them slick pooling in your panties as they take turns pulling pleasure from your body like they serve no higher purpose.  

It's Wrecker who pulls himself from his flight suit first, and you can't remember ever having such a physical reaction to something like this before.  You reach out on instinct, fingers not wrapping completely around his girth and teasing the pink tip until it begins to leak into your palm.  He towers over your head as whimpers and shudders wrack through his body as though he's never been touched.  

You catch a glimpse of Echo, standing slightly off to the side, watching with his pupils fully dilated as he follows the path of Hunter’s mouth on your skin his face flush with crimson.  Tilting your head back you turn towards Crosshair and give him a deep kiss, letting him lick into your mouth feverishly. Hunter’s fingers trace over your seam delicately over the thin fabric of your panties as they grow transparent with your desire.  

Wrecker’s cock is thick and heavy in your hand, and you clench wantingly around nothing, his hips brush into your hand with a tenderness you long to experience. Crosshair snakes a hand up your chest and cradles the thin skin over your throat, chasing Tech’s glancing kisses away,  but taking the opportunity to encourage you to grind your hips against his cock.  

In a few mere movements, the men surrounding you have altered your state of mind and each passing touch coaxes you further into submission.  Tech shifts and lets his breath ghost over your nipples, you turn your head and catch Hunter in a deep kiss noting how different he tastes and feels against you. You let your thumb swipe over the leaking tip of Wrecker's cock, and fight the urge to stuff your fingers in your mouth to taste.  

Hunter breaks the kiss and steps away, letting Echo take his place between your legs but not before using his dagger to cut the hip of your undergarments and stuffing them into one of his pant pockets.  

You blush at the obscenity of it all, but it quickly soothed away but the cool metal of Echo’s headpiece brushing over your thighs. Wordlessly Crosshair adjusts the seat so your pussy is presented to Echo, leaning more onto your back and looking up at the boys devouring your form. 

His mouth is hot, licking softly over your clit as you relax with Crosshair stroking the pulse point in your neck.  You’re slick with arousal and he doesn’t hesitate to lick it up teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue. 

You writhe, letting yourself melt against him, fighting to stay concentrated enough to play with Wrecker’s balls tugging and rolling them beneath your fingers.  Eager to pleasure every one of them.  

Echo’s glove ghosts over your sex, teasing your entrance with a digit, the leather smoothly gliding over your skin. Hunter and Tech each take to stroking down your thighs and holding them in place, “Easy, meshla, we will take good care of you.” 

Your mind is swimming, when did this start? Tech steps a hair closer to your face, tilting your jaw up with his free hand, and slips a finger past your lips. You suck lightly, sure to match the pace at which you’re stroking Wrecker.  You get a praising hum, and Tech surprisingly is the second to drop his pants and pull himself free. Stroking himself to the rhythm of you teasing him with a curl of your tongue.    

It's the tangled moan of you around Tech’s fingers that breaks Crosshair, his pants unbearably tight and each little movement of your hips making him clench his jaw to stave the noises that die in his throat.  He lifts you to your feet, and removes his pants, letting himself spring free.  You have to admit you expected the armor to be harder to take off. 

You stand on unsteady feet, in an attempt to turn your head towards Crosshair, Hunter captures your chin in two fingers locking your eyes together.  “Echo.” A chuckle reverberates between them, all seemingly on board with whatever plan this could be. Echo slides flat onto his back looking up at you and the rest of the boys.  The realization is enough to make you shiver. Your pussy clenches, still empty, but a dripping mess sticks your thighs together.  Hunter’s eyes are burning through your resolve, there’s an intensity you’d come to respect that now sends a spike of fear through you.  “Sit.”

You go to protest but are quickly shut down and you look around at the men surrounding you eagerly but patiently waiting for you to follow his instructions.  Swallowing thickly over the lump in your throat, you sink to your knees and hover a few inches from Echo’s waiting mouth.  From your knees they tower above you, all but Hunter free from their confines.  You get a good look at the three cocks, all weeping and swollen pink across their tip, beautifully complimenting the darker-tanned skin of their shaft.  

Each of them was different, which only slightly surprises you, Wrecker being the thickest, but both Tech and Crosshair meet him in length.  You can feel each breath from Echo’s mouth, knowing you're probably close to dripping across his chin. You lower slowly, afraid to hurt him, until he licks the seam of your entrance savoring the hot flesh and you seek his tongue sitting on his face in earnest.  His mouth brings welcome waves of pleasure as he suckles on your clit.  

They pump themselves slowly, enjoying the view of your tits bouncing with each shiver.   You start to move your hips in small circles while reaching to palm over Crosshair’s balls and stroking up over his shaft squeezing a bead of precome from the tip.  You open your mouth and glance between them, expecting to see some kind of hierarchy emerge but they take a half step toward you together.  

You opt for taking Tech into your mouth, but only because he's in the middle, letting yourself drool around him as you suck on the thick knot of his cock head, before turning and spitting the excess saliva onto Crosshair’s cock coating it with slick to make your fist glide against him nice and quickly. Tightening around the base and working more of those beautiful precum drips from his leaking tip.  

You snap back to Tech’s cock, tasting the sweat of his skin, and the desire for your body grows with each passing second as he throbs needfully in your mouth.  

Echo is teasing your clit with calculated movements of his tongue, licking around it in sharp purposeful circles, and sucking on it every few passes.  Enough to make your brain fuzz up each time his lips seal around you as Tech nudges the back of your throat to earn a gag.  

You pull off him again, this time gathering the drool in your mouth to cover as much of Wrecker's cock as you physically can.  His cock is so heavy it sways low on his hips thick and so hard your body is already aching for the sting that will accompany the stretch.  You use the thick spit to pump him slower, allowing yourself a moment to admire what has to be the largest you'll ever get the chance to worship. 

The slick sounds are broken with an “Atta girl.”  in the shape of a deep growl from Wrecker’s chest.  He reaches and gathers some drool from your chin and brushes it over your lip and you open instinctively, just as Echo uses his tongue to prod at your entrance.  His praise is as wholesome as his affection for you.

Hunter has taken a seat across from the rest of you, watching as if analyzing each movement of your legs as they quiver from the ravenous pleasure and your throat tightens around the length of Crosshair's shaft.  His thin fingers find purchase at the back of your neck, urging you to sputter around him and the sick squelch just barely audible beneath your moans. 

Echo swiftly plunges two fingers into your pussy, crooking them and stroking deliciously at your g-spot and forcing you to pull yourself away from Crosshair to let your head drop as you fight for composure.  “Let yourself enjoy it little one.  It won’t be your last.” Cross takes the tip of his cock and taps the tip to your tongue.  

You swear, body humming and teetering on the edge before losing yourself to one hellishly explosive orgasm.  It shocks you, body shaking and toes curling against the cool floor as your body burns in the aftershocks Echo works you through it with some tentative kisses to your entrance, and he encourages you to sit up so he can slide out from under you. 

So much of the room is spinning you don’t notice Tech sitting in front of you until you’re kissing him.  His tongue finds yours in a syrupy sweet and methodical kiss as you fight to catch your breath.  Wrecker moves behind you, running his rough hands down your back and palming the flesh of your ass, striking it with a loud slap.  

Tech swallows your gasp, pinching your nipples and pulling them as Wrecker bends you at the waist until you’re scrambling to your hands and knees sucking Tech into your mouth with a compliant and satisfied hum.  

Hunter speaks up, “Turn around.” The trance is broken for the briefest of seconds, and you don't have time to think before they’re turning you so you’re faced with Wrecker’s huge cock and Tech teases your entrance with the tip of his cock.  The passive command that Hunter has over all of you gives you goosebumps, his authority even stronger than the ache they share for you. 

You sink to your elbows, propping your ass up on display and practically begging for Tech to fuck you, pushing back onto the head of his cock, all while blinking away tears as Wrecker’s size makes your jaw ache.  The larger man splays his hand across the back of your head, inciting your thick moans as you work as much of him as you can fit. 

Tech’s hips pitch forward and he’s splitting you open in one fluid deep thrust until your ass is nestled against his hips and he grunts at the eager squeeze of your sex around him. You work your hips in sync with your head the drag of his cock along your walls is unlike anything you’ve ever felt.  He shifts from both knees to one, allowing a deeper thrust to kiss your cervix with a hiss of pain-laced pleasure.  He sets a pace, hips meeting yours in synchronous harmony, and the three of you get lost in each other's pleasure.  

You’re briefly aware of Crosshair stroking himself above you and Hunter is still watching with bated breath as you service his brothers, wondering if you’ll let each of them have a turn or if they’ll need to give you a break.  

Tech snakes a hand around to press a firm thumb against your clit, and a rush of fluid hits the floor of the cargo space that permeates his senses. The sickly sweet smell of your release coats his tongue and he chokes the head of his cock through his clothes to stop him from cumming before he even gets to touch you.  

Your vision is white, and you’re vaguely aware of the spend running down your thighs.  When Tech pulls himself free with a grunt you feel the hot ropes of his cum on your back you whine, feeling ashamed that you long for him to finish inside of you.  You clench around nothing and sit up to look at Wrecker who brushes a hair out of your face.  You kiss him, softly at first, unsure of his comfort with the taste of his precome in your mouth, but he growls and lifts you by your waist, licking into your mouth as he helps you hover over his cock.  

You take advantage of the break, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking the weight off your knees in favor of straddling him. Even in his lap, you’re looking up at him.  Letting gravity do some of the work, you adjust to let him prod at your entrance and sink slowly onto him, the slick warmth of your pussy a welcome substitute for your pretty mouth. 

His chest rumbles beneath yours, groaning as your pussy flutters around him.  You kiss him through a grimace, “Take your time.” He whispers against your mouth, low enough you’re not sure the others hear him.  Heart swelling at the compassion, you let him slowly rock his hips against you, easing his way into your heat and keeping his hands splayed across your hips to support you.  

It’s a slow process, each inch accompanied by breathless and muffled moans followed by kisses and words of endearment.  “You can take it mesh’la.” You’re nearly there, body so in tune with his every word you nearly forgot your showmanship. 

Crosshair is to your right, one hand gripping the base of his cock as precome dribbles and hangs just out of reach from your eager tongue, muttering something in a language you don’t understand. 

You swear you can feel the throb of Wrecker inside of you, and he presses his mouth to your forehead as he pistons his hips slowly angling your body in a way so that he’s moving you along his shaft effortlessly. 

Breathless and spent, you let him.  Being filled by him is almost overwhelming, each push and pull feeling like he's going to split you in half.   He mumbles and groans into your hairline, speaking nonsense in between bitten-off praise.  When his fingers find your clit you all but cry, shaking your head in protest, “Please- I can't.” 

It's Hunter that answers your cries, “You can.” His voice hoarse with need and restraint, “Be a good girl.” Your brow furrows, in concentration, tossing your head back in near agony at the overstimulation. 

Wrecker leans forward and presses his mouth to the column of your throat sucking on the thin skin and leaving a pink welt in his wake.  You feel as if you could explode, not able to hear the sounds of your screams as you shudder and writhe under his touch, against his skin and your body falls slack with the overwhelming pleasure. 

He lifts his face and you catch a pleased smile, like a loth-wolf with its prey in its teeth.  As he throbs and fucks his spend deep into your core.  They all see the muted smile tug at the corner of your mouth as Wrecker cums inside you.  

He holds you for a moment, kissing over the reddish blemish on your throat and waiting for you to make eye contact with him before slipping free with a tangled whimper from both of you.  

Wrecker wraps your legs around him and stands on sturdy legs, you cling to him, resting your cheek on his shoulder hyperaware of the wetness between your thighs. He sets you on Hunter's lap, in your euphoria, he’s lost his pants and sits still in a pair of soft cotton underwear, stark black against his tanned abdomen.  It’s now that you notice his tattoo, so familiar with the portion on his face you never notice how the tattoo bleeds across the entire left side of his body.  

The lines are both clean and elegant, highlighting the rich flawless tone of his figure.  Gorgeously broad shoulders with rippling cords of muscles supporting your cheek as you rest your head lazily and admire him.  Placing a lingering and exhausted kiss to the stretch of skin between his shoulder and neck and relishing the warmth of him against your sweat-soaked skin, in the extra cold air of a ship in hyperspace.  

He runs his fingers through your hair, scratching lightly and working every line of tension out of you over a few minutes.  You distantly hear the sound of the fresher’s shower being turned on.  Crosshair is gone, and you fear a pang of regret and pity. 

 Your breath is coming easier by the time, Hunter carries you towards the sound of the water.  Crosshair meets you both under the water’s spray refreshing your senses and soothing the ache of your muscles. You get settled on your feet between them, legs feeling like they’re made of sand, Hunter’s body is pressed tightly to your back, anchoring and steadying you as you greet Crosshair with an inviting kiss. 

He welcomes your touch, all but overtaking your space completely as you get pressed between the two of them and lost to the feeling of their bodies against yours, Hunter nestled into the small of your back and Crosshair’s cock leaking and purple with need against your belly.

The steam only adds to the dreamlike quality of it all, tendrils wafting off the ground and highlighting the sight of your ass pressed against him.  Hunter doesn’t want to hurt you, but each passing second without fucking you is making him lose his sanity.  As if he might just sink into the floor with the weight of his need crushing him entirely.  

He nibbles at your earlobe, earning a low whine from your chest.  You tilt your head in invitation for his affection, kissing up the column of your neck and tasting the water on your skin tangled with the smell of his brothers.  He makes eye contact with Crosshair, and they communicate silently as they spin you around and switch roles.  

Hunter licking into your mouth and letting his hand run down to your hip and pull you to him.  Expecting the press of Crosshair to your back, you’re startled when you feel the graze of his teeth on your ass.  His palms run over the smooth skin, kneading the flesh and watching it move in response to his touch.  

Crosshair splays a hand on the small of your back, urging you to lean forward.  You glance over your shoulder as he spreads you open and licks a stripe across your asshole. The feeling sends a shiver down your spine, you hear a chuckle as he presses the pad of his thumb into you and watches you with a hungry stare. 

Hunter distracts you, kissing you slowly and running his hands soothingly down your back as Crosshair preps you to take him until he’s working two fingers in and out of you and sucking a bruise into your hip to match the one adorning your throat.  

You nibble on Hunter’s lip, and bury your hands into his hair, tugging at the root living for the whimpers you get out of him.  Crosshair kisses his way up your spine, standing straight, and this time you see them.  There’s a small nod of agreement and both of them turn their full attention to you, “You gonna let us fuck you cyar’ika?”

 Without hesitation, you nod.  You’re not able to explain, how you were able to wrap your arms around Hunter as he hoisted you up his waist and you sank down onto his length.  Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the way he demanded your submission through the tone of his voice.  No, you thought, it was the way he sounded like he was begging you, he commanded your attention but the way he used his authority had you believing that you, and what he asked of you, was the most important thing in the galaxy.  You wanted nothing more than to give him everything he asked for and more. 

They give you a moment, Hunter biting his lip as your cunt squeezes him like you haven’t already come three times already.  You throw an arm around Crosshair’s neck opening your legs just enough for him to slot himself against you and slowly push into you with the cant of his hips.  

He goes incredibly slow, sawing his hips back and forth and relishing in the feeling of Hunter’s cock also nestled deep inside you making you impossibly tighter and the friction of your walls against him.  

It feels like too much, pain and pleasure mixing in an enchanting cocktail of stimulation, yet still the familiar tug of an orgasm stirs in your belly.  You suppress a sob at the idea of coming for a fourth time around the both of them.  They hush you, nuzzling against you and pressing righteous and thankful kisses to your skin, “Look at you, pretty girl.” Crosshair’s voice is so low and drawn out that it takes every last shred of your concentration to hear what he’s saying, “You look so good taking everything we give you.” 

The inflection acts like a highlight reel, your body remembering along with your brain the feeling of being the center of attention during your first orgasm.  The complexity of your second. The white-hot stretch of Wrecker using and worshipping your body filling you to the brim during the aftershocks of your third.  Hunter whispers against the shell of your ear, “Good girl.” Reading the signs of your body and feeling the crest of your orgasm build around him, and pulling you over the edge with his praise. 

He presses his forehead to yours as he follows close behind, senses overwhelmed and fighting the bend to his knees as they buckle with the intensity of his climax.

Crosshair pumps into you from behind, lifting one of your legs slightly and changing the angle so he can thrust deeper grinding into you, and urging you to lean more heavily on him to keep the three of you from collapsing as he stills and spills into you. 

The three of you pant in silence, ragged breath lost in the noise of the water hitting the metal floor of the fresher, you wordlessly separate.  The endorphins running through your bloodstream turn your muscles' pain into a blissful ache you never want to forget.