#the nerves have arrived
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moonknightassappreciator · 22 days ago
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As top surgery draws closer I’m reminded of the time my dad had pneumonia and got drains put in and I straight up fainted in his hospital room bc I caught a glimpse of the drains. Not sure how that’s gonna translate to my own major surgery but it’s gonna be interesting to find out!
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prismit · 10 months ago
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FINALLYYYY BEAT 5BC ALL THE WAY THROUGH WITHOUT ASSIST MODE. SHOUTOUT TO DEATH'S SCYTHE FOR CARRYING ALL THE WAY UP TO THE GIANT and then a baseball bat which was incapable of landing crits on the final boss with the set i had but pulled through with huge damage anyways lmao
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chronicowboy · 1 year ago
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got myself some good old punching rings
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girlscience · 9 months ago
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meeting with the grad students in the center for fisheries and aquatic sciences in 30 minutes aaaa
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kof-xiii · 1 year ago
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super pissed that i hav to get the post-op bra on my own tho bc i was under the assumption that i’d jus pay for it and then they’ll give it
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chuluoyi · 3 months ago
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𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄
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- sylus x reader
you and your lover are hailed and feared, but who would have guessed that behind closed doors, both of you are just that — lovers?
genre/warnings: very suggestive, making out, fluff, comfort, period cramps, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), loosely based on sylus' secret times: midnight warmth & exclusive care!
note: very self-indulgent bye pls don't look at me :') this fic is a companion to assassin!reader series (strictly (un)professional and jealousy incarnate)
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“Who’s ther— lord! Missus! What happened to you!?”
On a rainy night, you staggered into the base, drenched and covered with dirt. Your steps were unsteady as you made your way through the front door, and the first person to see you, Luke, was so shocked by the sight that he rushed to your side.
“Kieran! Call Boss!” he shouted to his twin, who immediately sprinted off to find him, steadying you. “Are you injured?”
“No,” you hissed, wincing as you clutched your abdomen. “Let go, I’m fine—” But before you could finish, you missed a step and—
—fell into Luke's arms.
In that very instant, Luke genuinely feared for his life. He squeaked and stammered, incoherent sounds escaping him, because oh lord— if Boss sees me ever touching his woman—
“What are you doing?”
And there came his nightmare. Sylus’ deep voice cut through like a blade, marking the arrival of doomsday itself.
“B-Boss! It isn’t what it looks like!” Luke quivered, desperately trying to explain himself.
However, Sylus paid him no mind and exhaled sharply, immediately moving over to pull you out of Luke’s grasp. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine!” you insisted, pulling away from him while staggering. “I’m not wounded or anything. Just... I just need a bath, please.”
Sylus eyed you from top to bottom. You had just been out for a reconnaissance, and yet you looked as though you had been through a tornado and back. Disheveled, your dress was smeared with mud and dirt, and even grime clung to your hair.
“Did you fall into a sewer or something?” he questioned, and he knew he had hit a nerve when you shot him a glare.
But you spared him no answer, walking away with labored breaths and a hand pressed against your lower belly. It was clear you were in pain, and the sight tugged at him as he followed you.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his concern growing. “What hurts?”
“You don’t have to fuss over me—” your breath hitched, feeling exhausted, and ashamed all at once. “Just my period, nothing much,” you murmured in a quieter voice so the twins wouldn’t hear.
As you reached the stairs to the second floor, you felt like collapsing. Did you really have to climb these stairs, too?
As if reading your mind, Sylus let out a sigh, but you nearly squealed when he lifted you into his arms.
“You’ll get dirty!” you rebuked, even as he took large strides up the stairs. “Sylus!”
“Just hold onto me.” He shot you a pointed look. “You can’t even walk without gasping for air, and you still want to climb the stairs? You’ll end up rolling and breaking your back.”
Despite your protests, your lover immediately brought you to his bathroom and sat you down on the sink. He turned the hot water on and then faced you.
“So? What did you get yourself into?” he asked, his red eyes narrowing in dissatisfaction. “You were fine, and you didn’t face anyone.”
You pressed your eyes shut, leaning against the wall, resigned to explain. “Fell into mud. Totally idiotic, I know, but my cramps started right before, so…”
“I don’t recall you experiencing this before. What brought this on?”
You met his gaze indignantly, retorting, “Well, a certain someone banged me so hard last night, and I got my period right after.”
It was quite unexpected, but still answered his concern. So, to that, Sylus snorted and tousled your hair, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Ah, sorry, I guess?”
You pursed your lips, aware of how unapologetic he was. He smirked and added, “Now that I’m dirty too... I suppose we’ll have to take a bath together.”
“Are you mad? Do you want to get covered in my blood?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why not—”
“No,” you retorted firmly, clearly irked. “You take the bath after me, and that’s final.”
. . .
“Put your arm around my neck,” Sylus commanded when you both emerged from the bath and already dressed in silk bathrobes. You complied, and he swiftly lifted you into a princess carry, bringing you to the bed.
Despite yourself, your heart fluttered at his action. He set you down gently, and the moment your back met the soft surface, you relished it and let out an involuntary moan. “Ahh...”
Your voice was soft and sultry, though tinged with a hint of pain. Sylus placed his hand gently on your face. “Your cheeks are warm,” he noted. “And you still look pale.”
"Mmm," you mumbled, suddenly the total fatigue catching up to you as you leaned into his touch. Seeing you so pliant like this seemed to flip a switch inside him, and he immediately settled next to you and placed his huge hand on your lower belly, pressing down on it.
“What are you doing?” you frowned.
“I’m giving you a massage,” he replied. “Stop squirming. I’m trying to pamper you here.”
“You don’t have to…”
“My woman is in enough pain that she doesn’t talk back to me. It’s feels off.”
“...actually, you suck. You’re too rough.”
Taking your whine into account, he adjusted his touch, softening his pressure. "How is it? Better?"
You didn’t immediately reply, indulging in the warm sensation, letting out a sigh as you squeezed your eyes shut. “Mm... Yeah, it feels good now. Don’t stop…”
There was something quietly erotic about watching you, usually so defiant, surrender to his touch like this. Sylus felt a deep, protective satisfaction as he continued his gentle ministrations—
But after a while...
Before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pulling you closer as he buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of the bath foam you had just shared. “Mmm…”
You were caught off-guard and shivered at his breath tickling your skin, eyes fluttering open. “Sylus…” you murmured, a mix of protest and surprise in your voice.
But he didn’t pull away, his lips lingering against your skin, his gaze fixed on your bare neck, whispering, “Just relax. I’ve got you.”
Then, when he suddenly nibbled on your neck, you jolted awake. The gentle bite on your sensitive skin sent another shiver down your spine, stirring a mix of warmth that made your pulse race.
But he didn't stop there, as Sylus trailed your neck with a series of kisses and wet sucks, his breath hot against your skin. Soon, the only sounds filling the room were his quiet sighs and the soft noises of his lips as he continued to bite and pepper kisses on your skin, over and over.
“Ngh…” Each touch left you almost breathless, and the heat between you growing with every passing moment, making your toes curl and you moan softly by his ear.
“Hold me,” he gruffly whispered, and as if bewitched, you clung to his shoulders. He let out a husky chuckle. “Not too hard, or you won't be able to sleep later.”
“And whose fault would that be?” you quipped, entangling your legs with his, savoring the warmth of his body against yours.
“I’ve spoiled you rotten, haven’t I... sweetie?” he murmured amidst kisses, his tone laced with intrigue and his burgundy eyes flashing with a glint. “Just let me have my fill for a while.”
If you had a mirror, you’d see the hickeys forming on your neck, but instead of fighting him, you pulled him closer, letting out breathy moans freely and massaging his scalp as if urging him to go further.
“Naughty vixen—you are,” Sylus rasped deliciously in your ear, thick with desire and restraint as his grip on you tightened. “Tempting me, knowing full well I can’t do anything to you…”
A low giggle slipped from your lips. “Unfortunately… I learn from the best.”
Hard to get, snarky, taunting... You were the bane of his existence, and yet Sylus wouldn't have it another way. Your defiance and teasing only deepened his affection, making every challenge you presented feel like an irresistible part of what drew him to you.
He knew when his patience was on the verge of snapping, so to end it, he sucked hard on your shoulder one last time, making sure to leave another mark there. The squelching sound reverberated through both of you, before he pulled away and planted a firm kiss on your forehead, a gesture of both dominance and fondness for you.
“Now sleep,” he grounded out. “Your body has been through enough.”
“Mngh...” you whined, curling into him in contentment, your head nestled against his toned chest where you could feel his strong, steady heartbeat. “Really unfair...”
“You're going to feel better soon...” he sighed, one hand soothing your back and the other resting on your waist. “And as soon as you do...”
A wicked grin curved his lips.
“I'll pick up where I left off.”
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minlex · 7 months ago
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I've been at my mom's place for approximately 3 hours and so far she has
Offered me tea, sandwiches and fruit salad
Had a slightly heated discussion about wether or not I should get anxiety meds
Given me a small glass of expensive rum
Expressed concern that I'm not eating enough
Offered me anything in her wardrobe
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sttoru · 4 months ago
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Omg could we see reader getting jealous of Sukuna having sec with his other concubines? And maybe liek the other concubine rubs it in readers face?
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 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (no comfort), suggestive \\ smut aspects. size difference. one tiny mention of reader being a crybaby. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’ \\ kuna’s an asshole! not proofread, excuse the grammar. no part 2. wc: 3.3k
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you’ve been away from the estate for three days; three days too long for the king of curses. so much had happened while you were away to take some well deserved rest—a small vacation that sukuna had granted you because you needed it.
perhaps that was his first mistake. giving you permission to leave his side ended up being a bad decision. he hates that faint feeling in his chest, the feeling of missing something.
missing someone.
it couldn’t be. sukuna doesn’t have any weaknesses, and yet he can feel his body reacting to that unfamiliar emotion again. all because of you— that one human who always succeeds to occupy his mind.
he couldn’t let himself succumb to it—he’s not going to. sukuna is not going to let a mere human like you deter him from his superior identity that he’s had for decennia. he’s not going to let you have that power over him and his body.
and thus, when you return to the estate, you find yourself being laughed at. you were unpacking your luggage when two concubines stand at your doorway, hiding their evil smiles behind their handheld fans.
they don’t waste a single second and immediately rush to ruin your carefree mood.
“you know, you shouldn’t have returned at all,” the brunette giggles, her laugh sounding like nails scraping against a chalkboard. she looks to the other woman next to her before glancing back at you, “i mean—heh—lord sukuna definitely didn’t seem to mind your absence.”
you figure it’s just another way to get you riled up, so you do your best to ignore them. you put your packed kimonos in your wardrobe as your back faces the two.
yumi, the second concubine, nods along. she knows what she’s about to reveal will get on your nerves. and deserved, if you ask her. they had successfully caught the attention of their king while you were away. for the first time in a good while since your arrival in the estate.
the fact that they managed to spend quality time with sukuna again, is a wonderful first step to your downfall. one that will surely crumble your confidence as his so-called ‘favorite’.
“mhm,” yumi grins as she recalls the memories of her time with sukuna. time spent together that you were unaware of, “lord sukuna definitely didn’t seem to mind your absence when he had me in his bed last night.”
you freeze.
your brows furrow and the corners of your lips twitch. you don’t know if you should believe them—they could’ve lied about it for all you know. although, the voice in the back of your head had already rang the alarms.
guessing by the way they were dying to talk to you the second you came back - which never happens - you realise that they’re probably telling the truth. they’re only telling the truth to agitate you. it’s so painfully obvious, and yet so. . . hurtful.
“what?”
you don’t recall when you’ve choked up. you feel a lump in your throat. it shouldn’t even be there. you promised yourself to not get attached to a monster like sukuna.
so what if he went to bed with his other concubines?
but of course he’ll get pleasure from his other women when you aren’t around. he doesn’t feel any love, he sees it as worthless, so why did you expect him to not indulge himself? he still has his other concubines around for a reason.
you really shouldn’t be surprised by this revelation.
“what do you mean ‘what?’ - you heard me,” yumi shrugs, that cocky smirk still on her face. she’s clearly enjoying your reaction to everything she’s revealing. all the two concubines wanted to get out of this encounter with you, is to break that delusion of yours.
the delusional thought that you’re special to the king of curses—the delusion that sukuna considers you as something more than a toy to emotionally manipulate and play with until he’s tired of you.
“my lord spent all night with me in his chambers until the sun rose,” yumi continues without an ounce of shame. she bites her lip as she remembers the way sukuna had her body positioned on his large bed. for her, it was a dream come true.
though for you, it’s a living nightmare. even if you try to deny the fact that it physically and mentally hurts. there’s a painful twist at your heart—reminding you of the truth.
the truth being that you had truly thought that sukuna wasn’t really a monster of a man. you thought he was a different, more softer person around you.
you should’ve listened to the servants when they told you to not get tricked by sukuna’s special treatment, that he could easily manipulate you and make you do and act as he pleases.
“do you want me to explain it in detail?” yumi crosses her arms over her chest as she looks down at you with a menacing glare. both of the concubines are loving that face you’re making. that face of defeat that you’re attempting to hide from them, “how he held me and pleasured me until i—”
“enough,” you cut them off with your hands clenched into fists. you don’t want to hear another word. you’re already feeling awful; already, not even an hour into your return. you can never catch a break.
you have an urge to throw things around. you already feel stupid, and if you decide to throw a fit, you bet that you’d feel even dumber. you truly do not know why you’re getting this worked up about it.
maybe it’s because of the special treatment. the delusional thoughts you have about your relationship with sukuna. you really thought that you two had something special. an unofficial romantic relationship, perhaps, or something that resembles it.
a secret, unspoken deal where you’re promised his loyalty in exchange for your body and soul.
although, those dreams have been shattered this very instance. you’re once again reminded of the animalistic nature of the being called ryomen sukuna.
he told you clearly that he’d never tie himself to someone, a human no less. devotion to one person? why would he.
“out of the way.”
you push the brunette and her sidekick the other way. you’re going to confront the man yourself. or at least, you’ll try to. you can hear their sick laughs and chuckles fade into the background as you stomp your way towards sukuna’s chambers.
the other concubines seem to have gotten the gist. some peek their heads out of their rooms, grinning at you in victory. seeing your confidence slowly crumble and the realisation kick in - the realisation that your dear lord’s special treatment means absolutely nothing - is a sight for sore eyes to them.
you enter sukuna’s room and close the heavy doors behind you. you swallow the lump down your throat and try your best to look presentable.
no tears, you promise yourself. you’re not going to waste them on something like this.
“oh, it’s you, little one,” the familiar voice calls out. sukuna’s low and husky voice rings from his bed. he’s laid back against the many silky pillows, blowing smoke from his kiseru. he lays there like he doesn’t care about your reappearance at all.
he eyes you up and down, “how was your vacation, hm?”
sukuna asks like it’s the most normal thing to do. it seems like he’s trying to catch up with you, to ask you how you’ve been enjoying your time alone, though it also seems like he couldn’t care less at the same time.
“just absolutely fine, my lord,” you reply with gritted teeth and an obvious hint of sarcasm. there’s also a bitterness to your tone that doesn’t go unnoticed by the pink-haired man. he frowns—this cold greeting is not what he expected nor what he wanted to hear from your mouth. he expected you to at least smile at him like you usually do, but you didn’t.
on top of that, you seemed to be annoyed with him. that unexpected attitude of yours made something inside of him snap. it irritated him somehow; the fact that you’re so comfortable talking to him like that . . . it reminded him of the recent inner conflict he had which you were the cause of.
one of his hands tightens into a fist at his side. his jaw clenches and his eyes narrow into slits. you’re physically in front of him, which means that he’s also about to experience those complicated feelings again. the same ones he tried fleeing from by letting you go on a break, and by physically taking his mind off you.
he did the latter by taking his frustrations out on his other women. the stress that came with the thought of him possibly liking a human, relieved by pure animalistic sex.
that’s exactly what you’re upset about.
there’s an urge inside of sukuna to act normal. to ignore those difficult emotions and just treat you like he usually does. yet, another part of him is trying to protect his sense of superiority by trying to push you away.
there’s a war going on in his mind as he tries to calm himself down. you’ve always had this effect on him and it’s becoming unbearable. he has to show you, no - remind you, that you’re nothing to him. you mean nothing—nothing at all.
he’s the king of curses, you’re but a human. he’ll need to remind himself of that obvious statement as well. he’s got all the power in this situation. not you.
you cannot rule over him or his mind.
“you dare come back with an attitude? tch,” sukuna scoffs, nearly breaking the kiseru with his fingers as they squeeze around the solid material. he’s turning off whatever emotion present in his body. that doesn’t belong there anyway. he won’t care if you cry—he won’t care at all.
you notice the sudden change in sukuna’s tone as well. you’re sure you’re the reason for it. perhaps you crossed a boundary with how sassily you replied to him when he was simply asking you how your vacation went.
“my apologies,” you murmur with a sigh. you try to avoid getting on sukuna’s nerves any further, yet when you remember the words from the concubine, how she implied that sukuna had given her the best night of her life when you were away, you get mad again.
your eyes have a fiery look in them. you don’t want to get worked up. you don’t have the right to. you were warned from the very beginning to not get attached to an asshole like ryomen sukuna.
you’re to blame for feeling like this. it could’ve been prevented if you just weren’t so weak. if you just stayed away from him.
“did you have fun while i was away, my lord?” you continue, your voice shaking a little. you need the confirmation. you’re sure sukuna knows what you’re referring to by now, especially because of the way you’re acting out of character.
the king of curses raises a brow at your question. you sound even angrier, even more pissed off. he tilts his head after taking a deep inhale of the tobacco from his kiseru. he tries to figure out what you’re hinting at, “what are you—”
and that’s when everything fell into place. the dots connect.
sukuna’s jaw clenches. he realises that you’ve found out about him receiving services from his other concubines while you were away. there could be no other explanation behind your sudden attitude. besides, he knows how his other concubines could be. they must have told you the moment you came back.
normally, he’d say that it’s none of your business. what he does is up to him—he does not care about the consequences of his actions. though, seeing the slight hurt in your eyes, mixed with sadness and disappointment stirred something inside of him. he brushes that feeling away and stares at you intently, awaiting another comment. perhaps you’d cuss him out or bawl your eyes out in front of him.
either way, he promises himself that he won’t care.
sukuna is the king of curses. feeling bad for a human like you would only further tarnish his image, that image of superiority and power he has.
he’s a man of many needs. you should’ve kept that in mind when you left him. he wanted to keep you with him—to hold you down and refuse to let you leave—but that would be another sign of weakness. one sukuna could not manage to show.
when you departed, he was irritated by the fact that he had no one to turn to with his needs. from simple needs like wanting your company to sexual needs like craving your body.
keeping you by his side or letting you go; both decisions seem to clash. either way, there’s one thing he’s sure of, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it: he missed you.
sukuna can’t believe that he can feel an emotion like that. he can’t accept that fact. that’s why his irrational mind took over—his dark urges that strived to prove himself to still be the same old ryomen sukuna. the monster that did not need a single soul. the ruthless man that did not depend on anyone else, especially not a human. a woman like you.
he thought he’d forget all about you if he’s surrounded himself with other women. but, he was quick to be proven wrong, and that only caused to enrage him more and more.
every time sukuna fucked a concubine, his thoughts still manage to drift away to you. to how he wished that it was you he was holding.
nothing hit the same with the other women and that frustrated him. he’d keep them around in his room after he fucked their brains out, something he never allowed a woman to do except for you, yet kicked them out again after a few minutes.
it doesn’t hit the same.
you’re just different. your presence is soothing and calming to the chaotic soul of the pink-haired man. no one else could compare. that realisation made him feel inferior; a feeling he loathes.
sukuna’s red eyes glow. he hates seeing you look so defeated, but he cannot give in. if he tells you the truth, he’ll admit his weakness. he’ll admit that a human like you has completely taken over his brain. that’s no good.
if he doesn’t tell you the truth, he’ll save face. he’ll feel like himself again. his old self—the cold ruthless monster that he was before he met you. one without a soft spot for a human.
it’s an active dilemma that’s running through his mind as he slowly blows out another cloud of smoke. you cannot guess what’s going on behind those intimidating eyes staring you down.
sukuna tilts his head back and scratches his neck, smacking his lips as he makes his decision.
“yeah, i did. i had lots of fun.”
the words sting. they hurt you and make your heart ache in a way that makes you physically weak. you should’ve expected that answer. your shoulders tense up and your fingers curl around the material of your kimono—feeling a sense of anger and betrayal.
you can see a ghost of a smirk on sukuna’s lips, which only reminds you of his nature. his nature as an independent, aloof and cold man who likes to play with his prey. a natural disaster that knows no emotion, that shows no mercy to anyone.
you’re naive for thinking that you could be the exception. all of those times with sukuna were confirmed to be but a lie in that moment. as your gazes meet, you can now easily interpret what that look in those red eyes meant.
‘know your place,’
that’s what it means. you’re foolish, dumb. you take a deep breath to compose yourself after you’ve been made out to be a total fool. you should’ve listened to those warnings, you should’ve known that you were getting played.
this is exactly what sukuna desired to achieve. to build up your trust, to make you comfortable enough with him, to think you’re special and that he won’t need any other woman other than you — just to shatter your pathetic delusions when the time comes.
“tsk tsk. no need to look at me like that,” sukuna scoffs, a mocking laugh leaving his lips. he can hear a small voice in the back of his head telling him to shut up and let you go, to not make it worse, but who is he to listen to that irrelevant thought? he can decide for himself.
“y’ weren’t around, so the other concubines simply did their job by serving me,” he stares the other way, seemingly not interested by your presence anymore. his face is as expressionless as ever, “what do y’ think i keep them ‘round for, brat? for decoration purposes? hah, nah.”
another loud mocking laugh makes you nearly burst out in tears. you don’t know if it’s in anger or sadness. you take a deep, shaky breath for the last time. you unclench your fists and nod, accepting the reality check you’d just gotten.
it’s a slap to the face, but it helped you get out of your delusions. the delusions that sukuna is a man capable of loving someone, even if it is just for a tiny bit. this visit confirmed that there’s not an ounce of love or appreciation in that man’s body.
“i’m glad you had fun, my lord,” you answer after a bit of silence. you bow at sukuna in an attempt to stay polite while struggling with that inner turmoil. you don’t even glance up at him anymore. you need another break already.
sukuna isn’t dumb. you may think that you’re good at hiding your emotions, but you’re not. at least not around the king of curses. he’s spent enough time around you to realise that you’re going through a lot right now.
he’s the reason for it, yet he cannot bring himself to feel an ounce of empathy. he just looks at you with a blank stare, thinking that this is for the best.
“good night then,” you add and turn around to walk out of sukuna’s room. your steps are slow as you secretly hope to be called back, like sukuna would do every time you’d leave his room after an intimate night. you just want him to tell you that this was a test of some sort—a cruel joke.
you want to feel like his favorite again. you don’t want to be thrown away like this. you don’t want to be on the same level as all the other concubines. you want to stand out to him.
unfortunately, you don’t hear sukuna’s voice anymore. he lets you walk away without a care in the world. the heavy doors of his chambers close behind you and you feel your knees buckle. “fuck,” you cuss to yourself and clench your chest.
you lean back against the closed doors and try to regain your composure. crying can be done when you’re in your room—not in the hallway where anyone could catch you. you don’t want to give the other concubines more reason to bully you.
you drag your feet across the wooden flooring. all those times with sukuna, all those slight glimpses of his soft side that only you’re allowed to see— all of that is thrown into the trash.
you really shouldn’t have gotten so attached to him on an emotional level.
meanwhile, sukuna is silently sitting on his bed, thinking back to what just happened. he usually never doubts his decisions, but this is an exception. why couldn’t he just tell you the truth?
his mouth had moved before he could let his mind process all that he was feeling. a small part of him regrets it, though strangely, he couldn’t feel any real sympathy for your situation.
sukuna drapes an arm over his eyes, clicking his tongue at himself. he just wants to let the situation go, though his brain isn’t letting him to. the image of you standing at the edge of his bed, clearly hurt by his actions, flashes through his mind again.
he sighs. he’s sure that he’s going to forget about you soon enough. he needed an excuse to get rid of you for the sake of regaining control over his own being and he took the chance. he should be glad that he did—it meant that he’d be his usual self—with no weaknesses to look out for.
sukuna blows out another cloud of smoke through his mouth. as much as he’s proud of himself for not giving in to you, he can’t help but let his thoughts wander again. you’re probably crying in your room. he knows you’re sensitive. you would always cry about the smallest of things and he’d hold you (feigning reluctance) until you’ve calmed down.
he can’t do that now.
well, he can, but he won’t. sukuna has made his decision today: it’s power and status over you. that’s what it’s always been. you were but a toy he used to get a stronger grip on himself.
perhaps he simply is what people make him out to be; a monster. nothing more, nothing less.
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zyafics · 1 month ago
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CAN YOU PLEASE, PLEASE ON MY KNEES WRITE ABOUT BITCHY!READER X RAFE AND IT'S SMUT?? I FEEL LIKE YOU'LL DO IT JUSTICE!!! thank you
you literally read my mind because i was just thinking of this prompt that works so well with bitchy!reader!! hope you'll enjoy <3 (if it’s bad, look away!!)
WHATEVER SHE WANTS | Rafe Cameron
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MASTERLIST (Blurb) | x Bitchy!Kook!Female Reader
Content — 18+, power/dominance play, p in v, doggy style, orgasm denial, and dirty talks
Word Count — 2.2K
lıllılı Whatever She Wants by Bryson Tiller
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You always wanted Rafe.
It's your right. Since you were a child, you demanded the best in everything—toys, clothes, boyfriends. They had to be perfect. Had to be yours. And yes, it may come off a little superficial but who cares? It's what you deserve, and it'll be hell if you don't get it.
Since the first look, when you caught Rafe lounging on a chair with his friends, tipping the rim of his beer onto his lips, while his eyes scanned over the room in an attractive lazy way, you knew you had to have him. It didn't help that you were competitive, and Rafe garnered attention with women. They flocked to him and begged for a minute of his time. It became a game to you, and that heightened your need.
Everything was calculated. The makeup you wore, the outfits you curated, the glances. You always timed your arrivals—when you knew Rafe would be watching the door—and marked your exits. You knew exactly what to wear—dresses that tantalizing exposes your ass, but only as a preview—and the cosmetic style he liked. Rafe's the type of man who believes he wants a bare-faced woman, but truly, he wants something natural that enhances your features.
You came with friends. You left alone. You drank enough to loosen your nerves and danced with the crowd, but not enough to make a fool of yourself. You knew your tolerance and knew Rafe didn't like a messy girl.
At least, in public.
You caught his gaze a couple of times, flashing a flirtatious smile over your shoulders, but never lingered longer than three seconds. Rafe can't know how easy he can have you, because Rafe, like most boys, loves a chase. You're not easy, you're spoiled. He had to come to you.
And he did.
Rafe tried to introduce himself on several occasions. On those nights when you're leaving early—as planned—Rafe would cut to the door to pay a parting remark. "You're leaving so soon?" he would ask, "Alone? Again?" He would add. You always told him it was because no one caught your eye, and Rafe took that as a personal challenge. He would then try to tell you his name, as if he were different, to which you nod—detached—as if it didn't matter.
It drove him insane.
Because you didn't offer the same courtesy. You kept him guessing. He had to finally ask around to learn your name, which he would use to tease you the next time he saw you. And he did. And you laughed. But you acted like you didn't care. Like all the trouble he went through didn't prove a thing. That's when Rafe knew he needed you.
Tonight's no different. Just as you're about to leave, Rafe catches you with another smooth pick-up line. You just giggle. He studies how your eyes crinkle with amusement, the curve of your lips painted in his favorite shade of lipstick, and the lithe tilt of your head to the side as you ask him with your gaze, is that the best you got?
It isn't. But Rafe's determined to get further with you tonight. He continues to talk, asking about which men disappointed you and the reasons for your constant disappearances from these parties. And, for once, you're answering his questions with little resistance. Perhaps, it's because of the amount of cheap wines you consumed, or maybe you—for once—are tired of the games and want it to come to a fruitful end. Because when Rafe finally asks to take you home, you don't say no.
The walk to his truck is brisk. His arm wrapped around your waist, directing your path, while his fingers trail over the backless cut of your dress, producing a buzzing feeling beneath your skin. He's whispering something in your ear, but all of it is incomprehensible as you revel in the feeling of his touch and his touch alone. The feeling of your game coming to a conclusion.
And, just as you're about to reach the car, Rafe slams you into the side of the vehicle with a searing kiss.
His mouth catches yours and everything feels perfect. As if the buildup leading to this precise moment had been worth it, and every needy emotion rises to the top. His hand travels down the length of your body, to your hips, pulling you closer, and needing to eliminate all the space and wait you made him do.
Rafe's movements are swift and controlled. One of his hands props open the backdoor of his car, pushing you inside, and laying you against his leather seats. All without breaking the kiss.
"You don't know how long I wanted this, wanted you," Rafe blubbers between wet kisses. "Seeing you at every party, in these tiny dresses, not being able to touch," he rasps, bundling the hem of your dress into a tight fist. "Tell me you wear them for me."
"And if I did?" You say with a moan, tipping your head back to grant him access to your neck. "Did you like them?"
"Of course I did," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, the vibration of his words sending heat straight to your core. "You dressing up for me like my own perfect doll."
You want to retort that it's him who's in the palm of your hand, but Rafe sucks on a sensitive spot, causing your eyes to roll back and a whimper to escape your lips instead. He grabs your wrists with one hand, throwing them over his shoulder as he pulls you flush against his chest.
"So pretty, so fucking untouchable," Rafe kisses down the length of your throat, his fingers collecting the spaghetti straps of your dress before sliding it down the slope of your shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you so good."
His words snap you out of your haze. And while Rafe continues to expose more of your body, lamenting each reveal of flesh with a kiss, you withdraw enough to grab his attention.
"You're not fucking me in a car."
"What?" Rafe breaths, unable to snap out of the trace you had him in. Delirious with want, his mind warped around the idea of you being so close to attainable, that all rational manners left his system. He tries to kiss you again, to resume the moment, but you pull enough to send him a deadly glare, pouty and spoiled.
"Rafe, take me somewhere nice or we're not fucking at all."
He can't believe what he's hearing. He can't believe he's contemplating it. But Rafe doesn't understand that you have it all planned out to result in a perfect moment. You won't let it be disrupted just because Rafe can't drive the extra mile to take you somewhere nice. You'd rather leave him with blue balls.
"Are you serious?" He asks slowly, his eyes drawn to your swollen lips, the little pout, and the desperation to have them back on his. Sure, Rafe's had girls who wanted something more than a casual fling. He had them ask him for a better spot, but he never obliged. He never cared. But you're different. He wants you, and it's been a hell of a chase to get you here. He'll be damned if he lets it slip away because of a pretentious standard.
"Does it look like I'm joking?" You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your breasts further up. He nearly groans at the sight. "We're not having sex here."
"The nearest place has to be at least a fifteen-minute drive," Rafe argues. And it makes you upset, brows pinched together. "We can just—"
"I don't care," you snap. "Take me somewhere nice or I'm leaving."
You're serious. He sees it on your face. Rafe can't risk that, despite wanting to protest, because he knows he if he messes this up, he won't have another chance. Swearing under his breath, he drags himself out of the backseat and into the driver's side, pulling the car out of the parking lot.
Dangerously, Rafe speeds down the road, while you're sitting in the backseat with a self-satisfied demeanor, fixing your makeup through the rearview mirror. Occasionally, Rafe spares a glance through the same reflection, connecting with your gaze, and while there's subtle bitterness coiled in his chest, he recognizes the bigger prize at hand.
And what he can do with it.
Because, despite your bratty attitude, Rafe is a person who wants control. You want perfection. You two can have both.
That's how you find yourself in a newly-booked penthouse suite at one of the bougie hotels in Kildare, your head digging into the soft comforter of the bed, your ass in the air, as Rafe drills into you from behind.
When you reached the room, everything moved frantically. Rafe slammed you against the nearest wall to kiss you again—needing your lips, needing your taste—while his hands roamed over your dress and pulled down your cleavage, revealing your tits. Your hands wandered down his pants, unbuttoning them hurriedly, needily, and he assisted you by pulling them off alongside his boxers. His cock was big, slightly red with a pearly bead of pre-cum that rolls off the tip. And you could tell by the look on Rafe's face that he wanted you to suck it.
But you told him, "I don't do blowjobs."
So fucking pretentious.
It didn't matter. He hauled you over to the king-sized bed and pushed you onto the mattress. You landed with a soft thump, while Rafe hauled you up to your ass, pushing up your dress, until it became nothing but a bundle around your waist. His movements were urgent, and he wanted—no, needed—to be inside you because a bratty girl was going to be a great fuck.
And he was right.
You're perfect. The way you wrap around him, the way he sinks inside you. He doesn't know if it's because of the delirium of wanting you so desperately, of chasing you for so long—but he never had better pussy. And it doesn't help that your moans are sweet, breathy, and loud—begging him to go faster.
"Such a pretentious brat," Rafe grabs your throat, hauling you upwards till your spine rest on his chest, airway constricted by his harsh grip. "Making me wait this fucking long."
"R—Rafe," you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the way he's angling his cock deep into your cervix, bullying the sensitive spot over and over again until you're seeing stars.
"Had to get the princess treatment, did you?" He murmurs hotly into your ear, nibbling a spot on your neck as you rest the back of your head on his shoulder. His thrusts grow more erratic. "Had to make me earn you, didn't you?"
"You weren't going to fuck me in a car," you persist, and despite how cockdrunk you became, and how much of an attitude you're willing to sacrifice to feel good, you were still adamant about receiving what you deemed enough. He respected that. "I'm not one of your whores."
"But I'm fucking you like my own personal slut. Is that any better?" He bites the lobe of your ear, and his other hand wanders up to grab a handful of your breast, squeezing the fat before rolling your perked nipple between his fingers. You moan louder. "What does that make you?"
You can't seem to answer him, can't seem to find your senses. The words Rafe uses are vulgar, but there’s still no regrets about this entire thing. Rafe wanted you so badly, that he was willing to spend hundreds of dollars on a hotel he probably won't even stay the night in. All because you demanded it.
You win.
"Shut up," you stammer, your stomach tightening. "Shut up and just fuck me, Rafe."
Rafe grins. The hand playing with your tits slips between your thighs to assist, finding your clit easily as he rubs it with his thumb in sync with his thrusts. Breathy moans escape you as you arch into his palm, while he pistons deeper inside of you, bottoming out.
"You sound so pretty, doll," Rafe murmurs against your heated skin, "Come on, take my fucking cock."
Everything’s so dirty. The way he handles you, the way your wetness drips down your thighs, the way his words breathe onto your skin and tighten your core. But you love it. You do, but you're not willing to give in so easily. No matter how good it feels. No matter how much he feels like a prize.
"You don't deserve me." You whisper with a mewl, body tightening with the familiar wave of your undoing.
Yet, Rafe merely grins.
"But you're sucking in my cock like you need me," Rafe taunts, pleasure coursing through his body at the way your walls grip him in a vice. The way your words spark challenge and invitation. He knows, despite your spoiled attitude and pretentious demands, he'll do anything to get another chance like this. "Now, behave like a good girl or you're not coming tonight."
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tagging @starkeysprincess bc she saw it first <3
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thebestandworstdayofjune · 3 months ago
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i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there
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summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!
The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didn’t provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out. 
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, you’d been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that you’d never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence. 
Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt. 
They’d promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if that’s what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to. 
“The fuck do you think you’re doing to her?” You sighed. It wasn’t that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasn’t a discussion that you’d had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission. 
Logan looked furious, and what’s worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesn’t hurt matters. You’d sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. You’d hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now. 
“We aren’t doing anything to her,” Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. “She’s chosen to accompany us on a mission.” 
“A small mission!” Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile. 
You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Logan’s hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldn’t do. “Can I have a moment with you,” you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutant’s eyes. “Alone?” 
Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasn’t even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection. 
Jean slipped one arm through Scott’s and took Ororo’s hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. “We are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.” She began to hustle them out of the room. “Call if you need anything!” 
The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. “I wasn’t going to-”
“You don’t think I know that?” You can’t help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still aren’t. But you can’t deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. “I’m not… fuck.” He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. “I’m not mad.” 
Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldn’t help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. “Fine, I’m not mad at you.” 
“You know, you really can’t be mad at anyone, they were just doing-” you were cut off when you fell Logan’s hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. “Just, take a look, yeah?” 
“Are you sure you want me to?”
“I trust you, bub.” You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings. 
At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didn’t dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud. 
You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadn’t changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasn’t so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other. 
You couldn’t help it, a smile crept over your features. “You’re proud of me?” 
He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. “I’m always proud of you.” He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didn’t make prolonged silences and easier to bear. “I know it’s not my place to demand anything of you.” 
“You’re my… friend.” You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didn’t feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. “And I always want to hear my friend’s opinions. What’s bothering you so badly?” 
“I could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.” Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date  “I, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.” 
He worries about you? Even more surprising, he’s listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you don’t have a room full of your friends waiting on you. “I thought we’d covered this. I can take care of myself.” 
He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. “Sweetheart, I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from watching out for you.” 
Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. “The good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they won’t let anything happen.” You receive a single huff in return. He’s not convinced. “You know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. I’ll be fine.” 
He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. “Give me a second to get changed, and we will head out.” 
You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. “Logan, don’t be ridiculous.” 
“What’s ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.” 
“As we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.”
“Well then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.” You huffed, following him next door. 
You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. “I know you’re worried and I know that this is you trying to help.” Logan had his I’m about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. “This is important to me. You can’t be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.” The look was back. “Which is still an important contribution.” You added, which seemed to appease him. “But, I don’t want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.” 
“All this?” A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice. 
“Oh my god shut up!” He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side. 
“If you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scott’s dead.” 
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet. 
“We’ll be back in a bit.” You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasn’t too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. “Logan,” you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. “I’m too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, it’s going to be fine.” 
He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldn’t entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?” 
He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scott’s eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. “Don’t even start.” You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit. 
as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!
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xbellaxcarolinax · 1 year ago
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Scent
Miguel O’Hara X f!reader
Summary: It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. (In which Miguel goes feral when you ovulate)
Word count: 4k+
Warnings: Language. Obvs. S m u t. Obvs. Oral, f receiving. P in V (no protection), cum eating. Cheesy probs. Reader says Miguel's name a lot lmfao not beta read.
Minors DNI.
Honestly, I don’t know how any of this stuff works. This is some bullshit and none of it makes sense. Enjoy.
...
Miguel was fucking losing it. 
He couldn’t focus, couldn’t keep his head on straight. There was a thick fog clouding his judgment, disorienting him like a fever he couldn’t sweat out.
It started with a scent.
Light at first, a barely there whiff of something. 
It lingered at HQ, trailing between passageways and different conference rooms. There were times when it didn't linger at all for weeks. Then it'd start right up again, progressively getting worse.
It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. How could it not be when you spent the most time with him?
It happened once a month for a week at most, and like clockwork, his body reacted viciously, betraying him of all logical thoughts. Your scent seized him by the throat in a sort of chokehold. Some days were unbearable, your scent so strong that he’d have to fight with every muscle and nerve in his body not to touch you, to not bend you over and—
Well. That wasn't a healthy thought.
Recently (the last two months to be exact), he’d have to excuse himself and step out of the room for a few minutes whenever you’d arrive from your world to report for duty, sneaking off to the restroom to tug on his cock till he felt some relief. Images of you would flash in his mind: you on your knees with your lips wrapped around him, or the pained face he'd imagine would twist your features when sinking down on his thick length. He'd come in his hand, sticky ropes of white, using his release to coat his stiff length and go again.
He never truly felt satiated. It was something to keep his appetite at bay. But once he’d come back and face you he’d get hard all over again, drugged out on whatever smell it was that emanated off of you.
He’d salivate like a dog and his bulge would grow uncomfortably large in his skin-tight suit. It got to the point where he couldn’t face you, and whenever you’d greet him he’d return it with a simple grunt, giving you a clear view of his broad, imposing back. He never looked at you anymore unless to sneak in a quick glance and even then, it’d make his cock twitch in desperation, the head weeping, begging to be touched.
He was fucking feral, like a Neanderthal, primitive and obsessed.
You smelled rich, mildly tangy—not like the fruity perfumes some of the spider ladies wore around him. No, it was something else entirely, something earthy, like what he imagined was between your delicate legs. Like wet cunt ready to be taken. 
And God, did he want to take it.
"Miguel." 
He tensed up at the sound of your voice, running a hand through his unruly dark hair. Maybe the cafeteria at HQ wasn’t the best hiding spot.
It was the middle of the month—July fifteenth to be exact—which meant you had that smell again.
You were ovulating.
He knew enough about female anatomy to put the pieces together when he realized that about two weeks after his body reacted to your scent, you'd be in a terrible mood.
"What crawled up your ass?" He'd asked you once, keeping his eyes on all his monitors but immediately noting your discomfort. You sat on a chair beside him, head in your arms as you leaned on the desk.
He could feel you glaring daggers at his profile.
"Shut up. I'm on my period, asshole."
He did shut up after that.
Blood immediately began to rush toward his cock, bringing it to life.
You stood in front of him, one hand on your hip while the other held a plastic container from the empanada joint everyone had a taste for. 
"What?" Miguel uttered, keeping his eyes trained on a particular stain on the otherwise pristine white table. Any distraction was a welcomed distraction.
You pulled back the chair opposite of his, plopping down on it unceremoniously. The action sent waves of your aroma toward him like a crashing wave, engulfing him completely. He stiffened, dropping his head slightly while the heel of his hand pressed over his growing bulge. 
"You gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?" 
“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said through gritted teeth, fangs visible when he grimaced. His scarlet eyes wandered over your face for a few seconds before he ripped them away, barely avoiding the twitch in your brow and the growing frown on your lips.
“Seriously?” You scoffed, “You’ve been avoiding me for, what, two months? I’m surprised I got a hold of you. You’re never in the cafeteria.” You ripped open the container, digging inside to grab the fried little snack. “Do we have a problem I’m not aware of?”
Miguel watched you take a bite of the empanada, committed to memory the way your tongue lapped at the grease coating your lips. His hand pressed harder over his cock, and at that moment he cursed himself for implementing the suit-only rule. He could really use a pair of sweatpants right now.
“Well? Do we?” You challenged him, defiant as always. You had this look in your eye that he’s seen before—your adrenaline was about to kick into overdrive. Always ready for a fight.
He sighed, shaking his head, willing himself to breathe. He felt sweat begin to bead across his hairline, strands of his hair sticking down the sides of his face. Your scent was becoming unbearable, overwhelming him to the point where he felt lightheaded. He licked his dry lips, carelessly running the tip of his tongue over his sharp canines only to pierce through the delicate muscle. The salty taste of iron exploded in his mouth and he grunted, pinching his eyes shut in frustration. 
"Mig."
“No!” He finally barked, slamming a fist over the table. It shook from the weight of his large hand, the empty container almost flying off the surface. You went wide-eyed for a moment at his outburst before pressing the last bite of your snack between your lips, unfazed.
“It clearly doesn’t seem that way,” you replied calmly, but the twitch in your brow remained and your eyes narrowed. You wiped your mouth and fingers with a brown recyclable napkin meticulously, “if you have a problem, say so.”
One thing you had in common with Miguel was your bluntness. You always cut to the chase, saying what you needed to without much thought. It was one of the things that he appreciated in a fellow spider person but right now it only served to irritate him. That last thing he wanted was to deal with someone as fucking stubborn as him.
He must've looked like hell because when you regarded him, the hardness in your eyes softened immensely as if only just realizing his disheveled appearance. You went to touch his hand over the table but he snatched it away before you could, glaring. 
"You don't look so good,” you reasoned quietly, stung by his actions, “d’you need some help?”
"M'fine."
"I don't think—"
"Listen to me very carefully," Miguel hissed, nose flaring and skin burning hot, "I need you to get away from me." 
"What—"
"I'm not gonna tell you again," he seethed, cock struggling to break free from the constraints of his suit, "Go. Leave."
You were stunned into silence, tapping your fingers over the table awkwardly before grabbing your mess and leaving without another word.
Miguel watched you leave with a groan, dropping his head back in aggravation.
He was so fucked.
You hadn't shown up to HQ in a while. He couldn't blame you. 
While that should've been a win for Miguel, it wasn't. Sure, the violent attacks on his body had diminished somewhat, but now, just because you weren’t around as much didn’t mean you didn’t leave his thoughts for a second.
He could've called you—had that stupid watch to contact you—see if you were okay. But his pride assaulted him every time he so much as glanced at his watch. 
His thoughts circulated and continued, imagining you in all the positions he wanted to put you in, which landed him back in the restroom for a daily cock tug when he should’ve been working.
The spiderverse needed to be controlled and admittingly, you were one of the best on his team. You were stealthy and intelligent—he needed you more than he'd cared to admit.
And...he missed you.
But you were off fighting crime and restoring the peace in your universe—at least that was the excuse you'd given him, only showing face when it was absolutely necessary.
Which, as of late, wasn’t very necessary.
And still, he suffered.
...
Earth- 0708. 
A shit show of a universe where the height of winter was in the middle of fucking August. It was snowing, small tufts of flurries lightly coating the ground in white.
Miguel knew exactly where to find you. Sunnyside, Lowery Street off the seven train. On the corner of a bodega by the broken lamp post. He could walk to your apartment complex blind if he really wanted to.
And there it was. He could smell you upon arriving—through the concrete and rusty red brick, up the five floors to your window—he could smell you. His hands shook (not from the cold) as his claws gripped the aging wall, his cock doing its usual swelling.
You must have sensed him immediately, slamming your bedroom window open and peering out into the darkness before he could even make it to your window. The cold wind blew and carried your scent. Mierda. 
“Miguel?” You called out, squinting down at him as he scaled the dusty brick wall. When he finally came face to face with you, he lowered his mask, revealing his flushed face and sweat-slicked hair. He could see his breath come out in short, little puffs.
“You couldn’t use the front door like a normal person?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms.
“When were we ever normal people?” It was meant to come out smooth as butter but Miguel’s voice was hoarse, throat seemingly drier than the Sahara. He cleared it, stepping through the window, turning around to quickly slam it shut. He was concentrating, forcing himself to take a deep breath before turning around to face you, except, you were already gone, disappearing deeper into your apartment.
He grunted, rubbing his eyes. He thought he’d gotten better at controlling himself. The gentle breathing helped, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t struggling to keep his cock under control. It twitched a few times, and he groaned, exiting your bedroom. It was now or never.
You were in your tiny kitchen, stirring a cup of tea while the TV in the living room softly played some sitcom he remembered you were into. You were in a black hoodie and gray sweats, your hair messily thrown up in a ponytail. He’d seen you this way more than he could count. When did you become so pretty? Miguel didn’t understand it. You were under his nose this whole time, and he never really looked at you. Well, that was wrong. He did, of course, he did, but he never indulged. He was too much of a workaholic for that.
“What do you want?” You asked, monotoned, “I took care of all the bad guys so I know you're not here for that.” You propped your elbows on your kitchen counter, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you peered up at him. You’d always told him he looked massive in your apartment as if his shoulders would cave the entire place in, and now, with you looking at him like that—all doe eyes and confusion—just a tiny thing, well…his cock twitched.
He swallowed thickly, jaw tense as he looked away from you to collect himself.
“I gotta ask you somethin'.” The words rushed out of his mouth, the flashing images on the TV seemingly more interesting to him than anything else.
“Shoot.” 
“It’s… gonna sound weird, bare with me.”
“O…kay.” 
Miguel turned away from you as he always did, hoping to curb his sweltering need to take you against your wall like a beast. “Are you ovulating?” It was quiet for a beat, and his heart flew into his throat in pure mortification.
“What?” 
“You heard me, I’m not repeating it again.” 
“Miguel, what the fuck—” 
“Just—answer the Goddamn question, por favor.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, bowing his head in frustration. He felt hot, his body burning as if molten lava flowed through his veins. His tone must have done something because when he looked over his shoulder you were on your phone tapping a few buttons.
“...Yes,” you finally answered, bringing your gaze to meet his half-lidded eyes, “according to my app.” 
“Mierda,” He groaned, dropping his head in his hands, “fuck. Okay.” 
“You gonna tell me what’s going on, Miguel?”
“And you ovulate mid-month? Between the twelfth and sixteenth? No don’t—don’t look at me like that, please,” Miguel choked as he began to pace back and forth, ignoring the incredulous look on your face that was both humiliating and overwhelmingly arousing at the same time, “Just—just answer.” Another beat of silence engulfed you both as you searched the information through your period tracker with a shaky hand.
“Uhh, yeah, t-that’s right.” You placed your phone down on the counter, your tea now cold and long forgotten. “Mig…what’s with the questions? How d’you even know that?”
He finally paused his steps to run a hand through his hair before facing you from a safe distance, hoping you wouldn’t notice the growing erection burning hot between his legs from the angle he was in. If you noticed the large space between you both, you didn’t mention it.
“I haven’t been ignoring you,” you snorted at the comment, and again, he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I haven’t been ignoring you by choice, me entiendes?” 
“So what is it then?” You took a couple of steps closer while he took a couple of steps back.
“It’s your scent—you smell so fucking good and it's driving fucking crazy, muñeca.” 
“I-I don’t understand, Mig, what—”
“Look, I don’t understand it either,” he ran a hand through his locks again and again as if ready to rip the strands off, “all I know is you have a…scent when you ovulate every month…and, well…” he dropped both arms to his sides, standing there like an idiot as you stepped closer to drink him in. Your eyes traced him over, his broad shoulders and muscled arms, his thick thighs, and his engorged co—
“M-Miguel?” Your gaze was pinned to his bulge, pushing against the confines of his suit. “Why didn't you tell me anything?”
The question made him burn—made him bare his fangs and curl his hands into tight fists.
"What did you expect?” He spat, pacing again, “How was I gonna tell you some shit like this?" He licked his lips, his body feeling feverish. If he didn't leave soon he was sure to do something he'd regret.
“Miguel, come here.” He ignored you, much too irritated and embarrassed to do anything but just stand there. His jaw clicked, the bone shifting under the skin as he grinded his teeth in frustration. He could hear your footsteps padding softly behind him until you stood in front of him, craning your neck just to make eye contact.
It was unbearable being in your presence. He was going lightheaded again, the arousal almost blinding.
“Mig? D-did you need some help?” You whispered, your fingers ghosting over his chiseled abdomen, ready to trail lower but his large hand gripped you by the wrist, halting your movements.
“No.” He choked, “I’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to. Just came to tell you.”
“What if I want to?” You continued, lifting your free hand to press your warm palm over his heaving chest, “What if I told you I’ve wanted to do this for a long time?” 
Miguel hissed as soon as you cupped his erection, gently rubbing your palm up and down the smooth surface of his bulge, hidden behind the silky fabric of his suit.
“Poor Miguel—all this suffering, all this grief, when all you needed was for me to relieve you,” you tutted, feeling how incredibly hard he was, “so I have a scent, huh?” Miguel groaned, his head lolling to the side as he watched your careful movements. The friction wasn’t enough, but it was more than he could have asked for in the last few months. His hand was nothing compared to yours. “What do I smell like then?”
“Like wet pussy,” he swallowed thickly, hands fighting the urge to grip you by the waist, “smells amazing, muñeca.” He hissed again when you gripped him firmly.
“Yeah?” You smiled, your eyes just as hooded as his, “And what do you want to do to me?” 
A growl rumbled in his chest. Without saying another word, he pushed you back against the closest wall, caging you in his large arms.
“You have no idea the things I want to do to you.” He whispered, brushing the tip of his nose over yours. Your eyes fluttered, lips parting to take the tiniest breaths, chest heaving in arousal. 
“Show me.” You breathed before Miguel kissed you. He curled around you, sealing you away from everything that wasn’t him. Your scent had his head buzzing, had him licking wildly into your mouth, his fangs grazing your skin more times than you could count. 
He pawed at your hoodie, his claws sinking into the black fibers of the fabric. “Do you care about this?” He said between kisses, skimming the delicate skin underneath.
“It was an ex-boyfriend’s.” You yelped when Miguel tore into the hoodie immediately, ripping apart the seams with ease. You weren't wearing a t-shirt underneath, leaving you bare above the waist.
“Not important then.” He muttered, tossing the thick shreds of fabric aside in favor of touching your bare skin. He noted your eyes, how blown your pupils were at his actions. You were cold, nipples pebbling and goosebumps forming over your arms. Miguel cooed, his thumbs reaching out to rub the sensitive nubs on your chest, tugging them between his fingers. Your head fell back against the wall, a mewl escaping you. 
“Miguel,” you moaned, arching your body into his skillful hands. He brought you flushed against him, pressing his face into your neck and licking a stripe up to your ear.
“¿Qué pasó, hermosa? I barely touched you,” Miguel chuckled, lifting you up in his arms with ease and walking to your bedroom. He threw you on your bed, and within seconds, your sweats were pulled down with your panties, hastily tossed to the side. 
He observed you like a beast on the hunt, eyes trained on your glistening cunt. There it was, the source of his misfortunes for all those months, weeping and swollen with arousal, just waiting to be fucked. His mouth watered, watching you slowly swirl your fingers between your folds, coating two digits with your slick before presenting them to him.
“Wanna taste?”
He saw how your juices clung to your fingers like glossy webs when you wiggled them toward him. He kneeled in front of you, gripping your wrist in his hand and lapping at your essence, plunging your fingers into his mouth. He moaned in relief as if tasting you was the cure to every issue he'd encountered.
You gasped, mouth slightly ajar as you watched him. It was so obscene how this man took pleasure from your taste alone, coating your fingers entirely in his spit. You whined, the sensation of his tongue causing your cunt to flutter, desperate to be filled.
“Miguel,” you whined, “get rid of the suit.” He chuckled over your fingers, letting you feel the tip of his fang over the soft pads before releasing them with a gentle pop. He stood to his full height, dwarfing you, glowing in that suit of his. Slowly, the tech that held his suit together scurried down the length of his body like falling stars until he was completely nude. His cock sprung forward, finally released from its prison, standing large and proud.
“Oh my god,” Miguel heard you mutter, saw how your eyes were trained on the angry red tip, shining with precome. His chest puffed with pride. You licked your lips, mind already set on the task you'd given yourself. You moaned, desperate for a taste of him.
He didn't give you much time to react, surging forward to place a hand around your delicate throat, putting the slightest bit of pressure before pushing you down flat. 
"Next time. I need to taste you." His eyes were glowing, burning red in the dim lighting of your bedroom. He knelt again, grabbing your hips firmly and pulling you roughly toward the edge of the bed before devouring your cunt like a starved man.
"Shit," you cried, hands immediately tugging on his hair as you threw your head back, "M-Miguel." He was insatiable, tongue swirling around your clit several times before lapping at your soaked folds, moaning at the tangy taste. 
"Que rico," he muttered to himself, the vibrations of his voice over your cunt causing you to cry out. He continued his assault, dipping his tongue into your hole, a testament of what was to come. Then, without warning, he plunged his middle finger inside, immediately hitting something that made you see stars. You choked and heaved, pulling at his hair as he fucked you with his thick finger while sucking on your clit.
"Fuuuck, Miguel, I-I think I'm—" you threw your head back, eyes rolling as you came, gushing all over Miguel's mouth and hand. You trembled, almost sobbing when he hadn't let up, feasting on your juices as his finger continued to thrust into you.
"M-Miguel, I can't," you whined, your hands fighting to lift his head away from your aching cunt, but he ignored you, too drunk on your taste to stop. He carefully added a second finger, easily finding a rhythm to thrust into you. The stretch had you gasping for air, thighs trembling on either side of his head. If two fingers were too much for you then his cock would surely be a challenge.
Miguel's eyes were closed, tongue hungrily lapping at the wetness you produced, and within seconds had you falling apart with a wicked moan. Your cunt squeezed his two fingers when you came again, coating his hand and chin with your slick. You sobbed, begging him to stop, and he did, placing a wet kiss on each of your inner thighs before carefully pulling his fingers out.
"Look at me, hermosa." You hiccupped, craning your neck to look at Miguel with blurry eyes. He already had his red gaze pinned on you, and when he had your attention he placed his cum coated fingers into his mouth, humming in approval at the taste.
You were mesmerized, not even fucked by his cock yet but somehow already drunk on the anticipation. You whimpered, watching him lap up the last of your juices on his fingers.
"M-miguel?"
"You taste so fucking good," he growled with a shake of his head, pushing his face into your pulsating cunt one more time to breathe in your intoxicating scent. His hot breath over your pussy made your toes curl, sighing in contentment when he placed a quick kiss on your swollen clit.
Miguel climbed on the bed, caging your hips with his muscular thighs. His cock slid against your folds, your slick already lubricating him. You were still shaking, your hands now finding purchase on his biceps.
"¿Estás bien, amor?" He asked, leaning down to pepper kisses over your tear stained face. He was getting sappy, he knew. He couldn't help it, not with the way you came so pretty for him.
"Mhm," you sighed, letting him arrange your trembling legs over his hips, his cock pressing more firmly into your aching wet core. 
"Good." He spit on his hand and ran it over his stiff shaft a few times before pushing your thighs up so that your knees touched your shoulders, effectively folding you in half. He lined up the head, ready to push in, but stopped when he heard you whimper.
"It's been a while, Miguel," you explained with wet eyes, "I haven't...in a while a-and you're so big—"
"It's okay, I know you can take me, hm?" Miguel brushed a few damp strands away from your sweaty face. He leaned down to kiss you, and he knew you could taste yourself on his lips. It made his cock twitch over you, and with no further delay he notched the head of his cock into your hole, slowly pushing in.
You moaned, eyebrows knitting at the stretch of him. He panted, pushing inch by devastating inch, all the while watching your face for any signs. You were falling apart, eyes screwed shut and nails digging into the meat of his arms.
"I can't," you choked, your hips fighting against the offending pain, but Miguel was quick in securing you in place, continuing to spear you with his cock, "M-Miguel, y-your too big, it's too much!"
"Shhh, hermosa, si puedes," Miguel closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the way your cunt fluttered over him, fighting to take him in, "look how good you're doing for me, mm, así mismo." 
He pushed deeper, swallowing your cries with a kiss as he bottomed out, his balls pressing nicely against your ass. 
"¿Ves? " He cooed, bumping his nose against yours as you whimpered, "I told you, you could do it." He chuckled at your glare, kissing you again before thrusting experimentally into you.
You moaned, tossing your head back, exposing your throat. You felt full to the brim, completely stuffed. Miguel wasted no time surging forward to lick and nip at your neck as he moved above. Each thrust shook your bed, the springs of your mattress coming to life as Miguel fucked you deeper. Your pussy was drenched, soaking his cock as he glided in and out of you effortlessly. The stretch burned but it was delicious, and Miguel knew you were cock drunk when your mouth fell open, tears running down your cheeks.
"¿Así te gusta, hermosa?" Miguel moaned, his breath fanning over your skin as he pounded deeply into you. His cock reached something within you that had a sob ripping from your throat.
"Oh my God," you whined, feeling the constant slap, slap, slap of his balls against your ass, "Fuuuck."
"That's the spot?" He heaved, his fangs glistening with saliva, "That's where you want it?" He continued his relentless pace, hitting that spot with precision over and over again. The sounds of your squelching pussy made him feral, slamming into you until you screamed, watching you fall apart before his eyes.
You came hard, gushing all over his cock, vision blurry and head in the clouds. Miguel helped you ride your high until you were nothing more than a quivering mess below him, sobbing as he continued to thrust before emptying his load inside you.
He grunted, head tossed back as he pressed his hips tightly against you, filling you up with everything he had. 
"Fuck," he groaned, pausing to give himself a moment to breathe before slowly fucking his cum into you. It was too much, leaking out of your hole and over his cock, soaking into the sheets below. "Even better than I imagined." He muttered, shifting to pepper kisses all over your face again. You sighed in content, feeling comfortable in the way his cock was still nestled in you.
"¿Estás bien, muñeca?" Miguel asked, dropping his forehead against yours. He still had you folded in half, his large arms on either side of you. You nodded with a sigh, turning your head to place a chaste kiss on the inside of his wrist.
"Good," he grinned, gently snapping his hips against your ass, letting more of his spend leak from your hole, "cuz I'm not done with you yet."
29K notes · View notes
xo2dee · 5 months ago
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ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀɪꜱᴇɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
ʟᴀᴍʙᴇɴᴛ
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⛧ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sukuna x (Fem)Reader
⛧ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: true form!sukuna, pregnant!reader, heian era customs, pregnancy, mentions of cannibalism, sukuna being an asshole (what do you expect)
⛧ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3767
⛧ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Carrying the King's of Curses child, you knew wouldn't be easy, but you were more than happy to have a baby of your own. Even if said baby was growing rapidly while being the source of your bad back and changing appetite.
⛧ᴀ/ɴ: sukuna fluff is hard to come by in my opinion and so sorry if he's ooc but i wanted him like this. also, this is for lemon and ava, two of my favorite sukuna babes 🤍
⛧twitter - ao3
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Wrist flicking out, you fanned yourself, eyes heavy with the sleep you had been fighting as you pursed your lips and eyed the blooming trees of the garden. Spring was rounding itself off, the scorching weather approaching you knew in weeks as you could only prepare yourself to be practically bedridden due to your ‘condition’. You’d only arrived a year and a half prior, and you quickly realized you had not seen much of the palace still after taking a husband, be it due to the duties of a noble person who were bound to spend most their days inside and entertaining themselves another way.
You held back a snort, fanning yourself harder as you stopped and eyed a nearby bush full of bright fruit and as red as your husband’s eyes.
…Husband.
In your youth, you supposed the daydreams of living in nobility were only achievable through luck. Or perhaps told through a fortune told from the Omikuji you required as a teen, taking the fortunes of ‘blessing’ and ‘marriage’ with a grain of salt until you had grown into an adult and ran off to be elsewhere from the clutches on an arranged marriage. Into serving nobility, to becoming nobility wasn’t necessarily on your list, your marriage by all means was an unlawful one. Forged from blood and flesh when you remembered instead of sipping sake in front of the Gods, your husband-to-be curled his fingers around your wrist and bit into your palm to instead partake in you.
You had been enamored by him since you first met him, eyes memorizing every inch of his unusual face before taking his thumb into your mouth when he smeared his own blood across your lips. It had sealed your fate that moment, your love and lust for him bursting forth like a raging inferno then and during the commutation of your marriage. Something that had finally taken into effect and was weighing down on you heavily.
One you supposed was the reason for the wariness when it came to serving you.
Cutting your eyes to the side and slightly behind you, you held the sigh in, your attendant keeping her eyes on the ground (perhaps watching your feet when you walked) as to shield her pensive expression from you, however you were not the unobservant type and focused on the knot between her eyebrows. Mai, your first and most loyal attendant, was never one to shy away from pestering over you, speaking her mind and filling in for advice whenever you needed it, so to see her quiet and on edge grated your nerves more than you liked to admit. She had been your first friend when you arrived, and you absolutely despised when she reverted back into the meek and submissive attendant she played whenever your husband was around, and it was enough to make you frown and worry if you had done something wrong.
You sighed loudly, snapping your fan shut and turning to the woman slowly, “You look like you have something you want to say.”
Mai’s eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, long and curled as her doe-like eyes rose to meet yours. She seemed to mull over your statement, before bowing her head in submission and speaking quietly, “Permission to speak?”
A smile graced your lips, softening your expression and nodding to her in return, “You always have permission with me, Mai.”
And just like that, Mai’s entire attitude flipped at your nonchalance. Straightening herself up, she dropped the service act and eyed you with suspicion and wary, mixed in with tired disappointment at having to cater to your more… reckless wants. “It’s just that Lord Sukuna has told us to monitor you and keep you in the palace when he’s away. And you’ve disobeyed that… again.”
Ah, there it was. With a scowl threatening to mar your face, you turned your back to her and began to pick through the strawberries in the bush you had been eyeing before, “I’m in the gardens. That’s still the palace… Is it not?”
“Yes, but –”
“This one looks ripe…” you cut her off, not necessarily wanting to hear her prattle on about how your husband made it horrifyingly clearly that you were to say inside at all times when he wasn’t at the palace. You’d heard it all before so many times it had been practically engraved into your skull with ink, and you were fed up with sitting on your knees inside away from the outside world and learning calligraphy constantly. Lips downturned you plopped a good-looking strawberry into your mouth, humming at the juice and tangy sweetness that exploded upon your taste buds, before your stomach gave an abrupt twist and a foot kicked out against your ribs. You winced and rubbed at your belly while the fruit suddenly tasted foul, and you swallowed with a grimace, “I hate how hungry I get nowadays, especially when I seem to crave more than just human food.”
Mai had been watching you like a hawk, leaning forward to intercept you whenever you reached for another fruit, “Oh, let me get it for you –”
“Please, Mai, I can pick my own strawberries. You worry too much.” Batting her hand away, you plucked it, hiding it in your sleeve and turning to her with an exhausted smile as she took your fan from you.
“Yes, My Lady. But please consider my words, we can keep you entertained in the palace.” You watched the lines on her face carefully, creased at her eyes and wrinkles forming at her forehead, and you could only wonder if your pregnancy had been the cause of her newly formed stress (partly, you knew you could’ve blamed it on your husband, his aggressive and aloof behavior all in one keeping most of the servants on the tips of their toes, but you quickly squashed it whenever you remembered she tended to you entirely).
Of course, you knew she was only doing her job, however her job was also giving you a severe case of claustrophobia being cooped up inside all the time. It wasn’t like you were planning to ever leave the palace’s premises either, just small strolls in the garden or spending time by the pond to cool off. Honestly, you had reason to believe she and your husband were just worrywarts (yet for the latter, you would keep that strictly to yourself).
You nodded your head in the direction you wanted to go, signaling Mai to walk beside you as you sighed and lowered your voice, “The midwife told me exercise will help…” you caressed your palm over your protruding stomach, “The baby is already huge and only seems to keep growing. A little sun helps me too, Mai… I can’t stay cooped up forever.”
Mai took a few moments to respond, her shoulders relaxing and her voice regaining familiarity, “I’m only worried since the last time you fainted out here.”
Lips thinning outwards, you remembered it all too well. Not necessarily fainting, though you blamed it on the many layers you wore around the palace and how warm it was getting outside, but you remembered the aftermath and how your husband had all but slaughtered a few lowly servants in retaliation as to letting you out (and because of his temper). You had thought the gore would’ve had you running, but you’d grown so used to him murdering someone whenever they slightly pissed him off you could only sigh at the thoughts. Of course, you knew Mai’s worry also came out of fear, however you weren’t about to let him do anything to her. “I know, but I feel fine… Just swollen feet and my back aching every time I move.”
And the baby kicking at your body whenever something displeased him.
Mai sighed your name exasperatingly, dropping the formalities, “Please, given your condition I think it’s best if you return to the palace.”
Irritation began to seep in your muscles, your baby moving in response to your emotions as your feet marched faster to walk. If you wanted to walk around the garden, you were allowed to, you would deal with your husband later if he found out. “What my husband doesn’t know won’t hurt him… Just another stroll and we can go back in, I’m getting tired anyways.”
“My Lady – oh!”
Mai abruptly skidded to a halt, body bending quickly into a low enough bow for the towering sight of your husband appearing before you both. You spared her a quick glance, flickering back to your husband, Lord Sukuna, when you realized he wasn’t the least bit concerned over her. He kept all four eyes on you, a challenging glare in them and you nearly wanted to laugh at the sight of two of his arms crossed and the other two planted on his hips. He looked every part of a disappointed husband – a father in the making, and you could already feel the talking your ear was going to get. Ah well, you could always feign falling asleep on him, that seemed to always make him softer.
Bending slightly into your own bow, he spoke, addressing Mai with a singular command, “Leave,” and you only returned back to your own height whenever you peeked that she was gone. You held back the groan at the pull your spine gave, wincing slightly at the shine of the sun before his large form eclipsed it as he finally moved close to you with no one in sight. The familiarity of his warmth and scent eased some of your irritability, wondering why he was back to early and ecstatic that he came to look for you once he couldn’t find you.
You smiled up at him, rolling the strawberry around your fingers before gesturing with your head to the path you had been walking, “Walk with me?”
Sukuna was ever-so unwavering in his staring, watching you practically dawdle in your place with the world’s most unamused expression, “Weren’t you told to stay inside?”
You repressed a shudder at his rough voice as your skin prickled, another sigh leaving while your shoulders slumped; caught. “I might remember you telling me that.” He seemed to not be in the mood for your sweettalking.
A loud exhale made your smile turn sheepish. “You piss me off.”
You knew that was coming, pulling out your hand from the sleeve to produce the strawberry from before, letting his eyes follow the way you rolled it into your palm, “But you’re here now… Nothing could really happen now since I have you.”
Sukuna’s eyebrow furrowed, eyes narrowing inward before he scowled at you enough to let his upper lip slightly curve over his teeth, “Changing the subject won’t help you. Are you gonna walk back, or do I have to carry your ass and –"
In a bold move you silenced him, pressing the strawberry to his lips with two fingers and slightly pushing it forward in hopes he would eat it. His eyes couldn’t narrow or glare any further, shooting from you to the fruit, and holding them there for a few moments and you wanted to giggle because it nearly looked like he pouting. Your husband never really ate human food, perhaps to humor you before he would spit it out and complain about the horrid taste it gave him, however there were a few times his interest would peak and want a bite of whatever you had in your hand – especially when said food seemed to satisfy you so much. You supposed it was his curiosity to understand you better, having a human in such close quarters and as a wife was perhaps as jarring as it was to have him as your husband.
Toying with him, you said, “It gave me bad taste earlier… Want to try it?”
Sukuna’s lips twitched behind the fruit, a clear sign he’d indulge you that time and when you went to move your hand away from him, one of his hand snatched your wrist with a small squeeze. An unspoken word for you to leave your fingers on the fruit and indulge him. And you did so with coquettish blink, pressing the strawberry harder against his lips until they gave way and his teeth were biting into it with the juice from inside sliding down your fingers as he slowly and sensually ate the strawberry from your fingertips. It didn’t help that he kept his eyes on your own the whole time, your cheeks burning as you never were able to get used to your husband’s forward assertion on sensuality.
Your breath caught and eyes widened when his tongue slid over the length of your fingers before slipping in his mouth and sucking on them until they were free of any residue stickiness. You couldn’t help the rapid beat of your heart, lips parting as his thumb tapped in rhythm to your pulse point before he let go of your fingers with a loud ‘plop!’ and a satisfied hum rumbling out of him as you could only gaze dumbfounded at the saliva coating your fingers. After a few moments you cleared your throat and swallowed, eyeing him warily as you knew his stomach probably wouldn’t last long and he’d be hacking it up with loud complaining.
And on cue, you watched fascinated as the mouth on his stomach frowned.
Oh, here it comes. It never lasted long in his system.
You sighed as he spat it out, licking his lips and scowling at the ground, “You’re right, tastes like shit.”
“Would you like me to say something to the servants?” you asked, mentally cheering with a soft smile on your face when he fell into step with you to walk along the gardens. It was never hard to get what you wanted out of him.
“It’s not poor gardening skills, it’s you.” You opened your mouth, ready to backtalk at the insult, yet he silenced you with a hand raised before one of his fingers traced along your cheek, “Weren’t you waddling in and practically whining for some of my food?”
How could you forget, a week ago you’d been lured out of your bed chamber by the most mouthwatering smell and your baby kicking incessantly once your stomach growled. You had stumbled upon Sukuna and Uruame, the latter making Sukuna’s dinner and the dinner something you never were to partake in since his appetite did not quell your hunger. However, when you found yourself salivating with your stomach rumbling and your baby kicking, it was a jarring experience to come to realize you were indulging in cannibalism and liked it. Liked it so much your child never rolled in a fit that night and Sukuna had been extra attentive to you afterwards with his praising.
An answer was on your tongue, though you chose to neglect saying anything when your taste buds twitched at the thought of that dinner and instead enjoyed your walk in peace. Your husband only snorted, a slight laugh leaving him at your pout before he returned his limbs to himself and rolled his gaze forwards on the path you’d been on. Times with him were normally relaxing as he was actually rather lazy when he had nothing to do, his affections ranging from just enjoying your presence in silence to twirling your hair around his finger whenever you were close enough. You never minded, glad to spend time with him though it was equally as nice whenever he seemed get even clingier once finding out you were pregnant.
Even his soft, lingering touches moments ago set your heart ablaze, and you wondered if he felt the same whenever you ran your fingers through his hair whenever he felt like resting his head in your lap.
Minutes into your relaxing walk you felt it, an agonizing cramp pulsing in your back and the soles of your feet screaming in protest at being mobile for too long. Of course, you get some time to do something with him and your body halts that and screams at you to stop. You didn’t want to say anything, not wanting to bother him nor ruin the peaceful moment you were so grateful to have. Although the pain in your body had other plans, cramping upwards and throbbing whenever you tried to take another step so much you immediately had to double over with one hand resting on your stomach.
You stopped, the other hand moving to hold your aching back, and you were vaguely surprised he stopped at the same time. A wince and awkward bouts of silence later, you groaned and straightened back up, “I’m sorry, I think it gets worse every day.”
Sukuna remained silent and still, before a rumbling from his chest prickled the hair on the nape of your neck. “Hm, almost like you should’ve listened to me.” He was back in that disappointed husband stance, and you knew if you were to look into his face you’d see the smug grin at your misfortune. Gritting your teeth you didn’t give him the satisfaction, watching glumly as he sighed rather loudly and moved away from your side to continue walking in the direction of this palace.
You reaped what you sowed you supposed, having to walk back alone after being told not to be out of the palace when he wasn’t there. And your body complaints for moving about too much agreed, a quiet moan of frustration leaving you as you closed your eyes and counted to ten to calm your nerves, reopening them when the pain muted itself into a dull ache for the time. However, you completely clammed up at the sight of your husband bent down in front of you, the black of his haori draped over his shoulders shielding your view of his sculpted back and his face turned forward giving you no indication of what he was doing.
Yet, he did seem like he said something, though you were too befuddled to even understand what he had said.  
“What –”
“Are you deaf?” he interrupted, turning his head slightly and motioning with his head from you to climb onto him, “I said get on, before I change my mind.”
He wanted you… to ride… on his back? Never once did he ever engage in something like that with you (besides carrying you in his arms, but that had been the night of your wedding and he’d practically tossed you on your beds afterwards), though you weren’t about to pass by the chance for him to carry you. Though you weren’t too sure how to climb on his back and hold on so heavily pregnant, Sukuna didn’t have four arms for nothing you supposed.
Not wanting him to change his mind and keep him waiting, you clambered onto him to best you could dressed in several layers with your legs kicking free to slip underneath the lower set of his arms. You held back a squeal when your baby kicked at all the movements, arms flying forward to nearly constrict Sukuna’s airway off as he in return grunted and stood to his full height while beginning to move forward in a slow pace. You were grateful he was taking it slow, still trying to get comfortable and trying not to think about how bad it would hurt to fall off his back from his enormous height…
“Stop fucking squirming…” he grunted again, readjusting you with his arms as your body reclined higher up on his back and he continued walking, “Acting like I’ve never touched you before.”
“It’s not that. He – “ you cut yourself off, you hadn’t necessarily told him that you believed your baby was a boy, and you didn’t want to hear any of his teasing, “the baby kicks and squirms whenever I move too much.” Or whenever he hears your voice, you groused, further proving your point when he kicked at you again whenever Sukuna spoke once more. You wondered if he could feel the kick on his back.
“Damn.” A pause of silence and Sukuna was jostling you on his back, “How much does that prick weigh? Or is that all you?”
Your hand itched to slap the back of his neck, though you held yourself together and only offered him a scoff while making yourself comfortable, “He takes after his father.”
“And he wiggles like a worm, just like his mother.”
You had half a mind to say something about him referring to your child as a boy, your cheeks hot when you rested your chin atop his shoulder and eyes growing lidded with sleep while he inadvertently rocked you with his steps. You bit the inside of your cheek in a girlish thought that your husband was walking slower on purpose, rolling your ankles to stop you from kicking your feet at the idea he wanted to spend more time with you alone. Then again, he was doing all of it for you when he could’ve just left you alone, or not come out to find you at all.
Maybe some days he missed you as much as you missed him.
In a bold declaration, you pushed yourself forward until your nose was skimming Sukuna’s cheek, a chaste kissed you placed there seconds later whenever he didn’t say or do anything to push you away, “Thank you, my Lord.”
Sukuna hummed low in his throat, a deep rumbling that vibrated against your arms and soothed your aching ribs, “Don’t get used to it. I just didn’t want to wait around for your slow ass to waddle back in.” Though he sounded rather harsh, you knew he was just doing roundabout affection in his own way.
Your head lolled against his, the leaves on the trees above swaying you into a warm midday nap the longer you watched them through your eyelashes, “Take me to bed?”
You didn’t necessarily hear his response, though you weren’t dreaming it when his fingers tightened the hold he had on your thighs, the warmth he emitted doing wonders for the pains in your body as he secured you further into his back to ensure you didn’t fall off. You couldn’t help the smile, your cheek smushed into his shoulder as you took one final look at the sunlight path before you both and closed your eyes as exhaustion took its hold over.
With a last conscious thought, you reminded yourself to thank Mai later for allowing you a nice stroll in the garden – especially when you were doing it with your family.
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gojonanami · 1 year ago
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I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF - SATORU GOJO
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✴︎ summary: aka sugar daddy! gojo. when you accompany your friends to a bar rich men and women frequent, you catch the eye of a certain white-haired rich man, who is more than willing to spoil you -- in more than one way. ✴︎ contents: 18+, a lot of smut, fluffy, sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, virgin!reader, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), but w/ feelings, semi-public sex, sex in a changing room, lingerie, nipple play, first time sex ✴︎ wc: 9,065
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This had to be the dumbest idea you had let yourself be convinced to do. 
You sat in a bar, nursing a soda instead of a drink (because it was all you could afford), and you glanced at your group of friends who had all split off to chat up a different man. And meanwhile, there you were, at the bar alone. 
Your friends had seen a video or article online with a list of places that rich men tended to frequent, and after another dinner of instant ramen and looking at your dwindling bank account, you let yourself be dragged along to this bar.
You were surprised how easy it was for you all to be let in, but you supposed young clientele also helped to attract the rich ones the bar was really after. It was the perfect place to find a sugar daddy, or mommy. In your case, you were hoping to just find someone who would pay your bills month to month and possibly your tuition. But now you were just hoping someone would talk to you, much less anything else. 
You had sat here for about twenty minutes, and not a single person had approached you — you had felt a few men and women alike eye you, but none had spoken even a word to you. Heat crept up your cheeks and insecurities bit at your nerves as you stirred your drink absentmindedly — you were such an idiot— you should have just stayed in today, snuggled up in bed and watched Netflix—
“Mind if I sit here?” And your gaze snaps from your flat soda, ocean blue eyes stopping your breath in its tracks, his lips curled in all too tempting smile, and his snowy locks just tousled enough to look natural. 
“Not at all,” you manage to say, surely you were gonna catch flies if you didn’t pick up your jaw off the floor. He was gorgeous — as he slid into the stool beside you, his baby blue button up showed off his toned physique, his sleeves rolled up, as he looked over the menu. 
“Can I order you a drink?” a smile on his lips as he offered you the menu — non-presumptuous and didn’t order your drink for you — was he even real? 
“Just another soda, I don’t drink often, and I’m the designated driver for tonight,” though, as you glanced at your groupchat, you didn’t think many of your friends would be making it back tonight, at least not with you. 
“A woman after my own heart— two sodas please,” he ordered, “I’m not a huge fan of alcohol either. I prefer things that are sweet,” and his gaze slides over your body, “are you?” 
And you flush, trying to look nonchalant as your drinks arrive, “Take a guess,” and he hums, as he takes a careful sip of his drink, eyeing you. 
“Oh sweetheart, I don’t guess — I intend to know,” your eyes snap to his, playful mirth in his eyes, “and if you have a price, I’m more than willing to pay it,” he places his platinum credit card on the bar, sliding it to the bartender, “start a tab for me and the beauty right here,” he flashed a wink at you. 
Even though this is exactly what you had come “You don’t have to—“ 
“But I want to,” he leans forward, his lengthy fingers brushing against your hand, giving you ample time to withdraw, but you don’t, your fingers intertwining with his, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles, “you deserve to be taken care of, sweetheart,” 
You bite your lip, “and how do you know that? You don’t know me,” 
And he tilts his head, a wry grin on his face, “I know enough, baby, and I know that I want to be the one to take care of you,” he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing it against your palm, “now what do you say? I’m sure we can reach an agreement that you’d enjoy,” and his other hand brushes your thigh lightly, ���and that I’d enjoy as well,” 
Your lips part as you stare at him — he could have anyone he wanted, that much was clear — the wealth, the affluence, not to mention his charm and looks — but he wanted you. 
And who were you to say no? 
He dropped you home that night, having his driver fetch your car for you after. You both sat in the back of his town car, his hand resting on your thigh, as he spoke to you, his breath warming your skin, as he leaned against you. He didn’t ask to come in or to take you to his place, instead he helped you out of his car, walking you to your apartment’s doorstep. His fingers resch inside his coat pocket, and handed you his business card, his personal number scrawled on the back. 
His fingers ghost over your jaw, as he tilts your chin up, the low buzz of the overhead light drowned out by your heart thumping against your ribcage, “Call me, ok?” And you nod wordlessly, breath hitching as he drew close. 
“Good girl,” he smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, “I’ll talk to you soon,” he winks, before heading back to his car, “you won’t regret it.” 
But here you sat, staring at his business card the next morning, the only proof that what happened wasn’t a dream, as you lie awake, staring at the number typed into your phone. 
Satoru Gojo. 
How do you do this? Hey it’s the person you hit on at a bar and propositioned to be a sugar baby? 
But you couldn’t get him out of your head — it wasn’t just the money, he was…smooth. 
Fuck it. 
You go to text him, but fate is cruel, and you hit the call button by mistake. You end the call quickly, and contemplate throwing your phone out the window, when your phone starts flashing with the exact number you had called. 
Double fuck. 
You panicked, as it rang, then taking a breath and picking the call up, “Hello?” 
“Gotta hand it to you, sweetheart, didn’t think you’d be so bold to call me,” Satoru is chuckling over the line, the sounds of the road in the background, and it was clear he was driving somewhere, “but it’s a pleasant surprise,” 
“Is it?” you ask, and he hums, a noise that sends heat across your cheeks. 
“Very,” he cuts to the chase, cutting over any of the silence that could linger, “could we have dinner tonight?” 
“Tonight?” 
“I don’t like to waste time when it comes to things I want,” and you’re glad he can’t see you — your knuckles pressed against your lips, “are you free?” 
“I am,” you say slowly, “but I wanted to ask, after dinner what would the expectations be?” You had no idea how any of this worked, what the arrangement would be, or how it would be handled. 
“There are no expectations except for your time,” he says, “we can take this at your pace, your rules, your limits - we are getting to know each other, and we both happen to want more, I’d be more than happy to make that happen,” and his words nearly make you shiver, “does that sound good, princess?” 
“Perfect,” you murmur, and he chuckles, “what time—” 
“7:00 PM — I’ll send a car for you. I have your address noted, and I have a little dress picked out for you if you’re comfortable with that?” 
You hold your burning cheeks, “Sounds too good to be true,” 
And he hums, “Well, perfect,” he echoes you, “because that’s what we both are.” 
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The car is prompt when picking you up, and your roommates help you get ready — thoroughly jealous when they see a selfie the two of you had taken that night. And then the doorbell rings, and the three of you are rushing towards the door. 
“Tell us everything don’t miss a detail,” your roommates yell-whisper, “hot, charming, and so rich? I hate you,” 
And you shush them opening the door, as Satoru stands in a blue button up, simple slacks, and a grin that made your knees nearly buckle, “Well I am rich, she ain’t lying,” he offers you a bouquet of flowers — your favorites, all arranged perfectly, “and I’d like to think I’m the others as well,” 
“Satoru, they’re beautiful,” you inhale their scent, before you furrow your brow, “how did you know—“ 
“Lucky guess,” he smiled, fingers finding your own, “I guess we have the same taste in flowers, beautiful — great minds,” and he plucks the flowers and hands it to your roommates, “please take care of these, and I’ll be sure to take care of your gorgeous friend,” 
And he’s whisking you into the car, opening the door for you, as he slides in beside you, his arm sliding behind you, “do you mind?” 
And your heart squeezes, he’s so close, you could smell his cologne — a musky, amber smell mixed with his own scent — his strong arm brushing against your back, and as you peered up at him, a smile on his parted lips, as he stared at you with his cerulean gaze. 
“Not at all.” 
God, you were in trouble. 
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“How’d you like this to work, sweetheart?” And you nearly choke on your drink at his blunt question, dinner now finished, as the two of you wait for dessert, his lips curled in his perfect smile as always, “I just want us to have an understanding, so I don’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” 
You shake your head, “No, you’re right,” dinner had gone on fine — the restaurant he picked was impeccable, the prices must have been astronomical (not a single price on the menu itself), and the atmosphere of the corner booth gave the perfect illusion of privacy, “we should talk about it,” 
The financial aspect is simple enough — he offers a stipend that was more money than you could fathom and even consider accepting — but after discussion, you settle on him paying for your tuition and other educational needs as well as a monthly stipend. 
“But this doesn’t include anything I choose to treat you to,” he smiles, fingers toying with the hem of the dress, making you almost shiver under his touch, “like this dress or this dinner,” 
“Fine,” you smile, gaze still shying away, “there’s still the matter of what I do for you,” you bite your lip, swirling your drink in its glass, “I’ve never done this before,” you admit, tucking a stray strand behind your ear, and he tilts his head. 
“Nooo, I would have mistaken you for a pro,” he teases, and your cheeks flush, as you sip your drink, mostly for bravery  — that was true, you had never done the sugar daddy thing — but that wasn’t what you meant. 
“I mean that too, I’ve never had this sort of arrangement, but,” you toy with the napkin spread across your lap, “I’ve also never…been with anyone before,” 
And he pauses mid-sip of whatever fruity drink he had ordered — more juice than alcohol (he didn’t prefer the taste of liquor), “At all?” 
You flush, swallowing thickly, as your eyes looked down at your lap, “I’ve been on dates, but never beyond hand holding — I’ve never let it get beyond that,” you never had much an interest, and the people you were interested in had never truly reciprocated— until, you glance at Satoru, now. 
He sets his glass down, his lips curled, “but with us — you think there’s a chance that—“ and you squirm under his gaze, “of well—“ 
And his gaze softens, “You never have to feel obligated to do that — no matter what we agree on for what I can do to help accommodate you, I don’t want you to feel like I’m paying a price for your body,” before he adds with a cheeky smile, “unless that turns you on,” 
You huff a laugh out, chewing on your lip, “I appreciate that, but,” you finish the rest of your drink, before sliding closer in the booth, your thigh pressing against his, “I want to know what it’s like,” and you lean forward, all too close, but he dares even closer. 
His fingers find your jaw, tilting your gaze up, “And you’re sure, Princess?” his breath warms your lips, and you can smell the sweet smell of his drink on his, “there’s no rush,” 
“Who said anything about rushing?” you murmur, and you don’t know if it's the intoxication from the alcohol or from Satoru Gojo himself, but your lips graze his first, barely even. Your lips parted as you brushed your lips for a moment, before sliding away a centimeter, “Satoru—”
But his lips find yours again, fingers cupping your cheek gently, thumb gliding along the soft slope of your cheekbone, “You’re right, you’re not something to be rushed,” he murmurs, words as smooth as velvet, “you’re something to be savored,” and his lips slide against yours, swallowing your gasp as he deepens the kiss with the tilt of your heads, before he’s pulling away, allowing you a moment, “does that mean I’m your first kiss?” 
And you nod, with kiss ruined lips parted and chest rising and falling, eyes half lidded with pleasure and excitement — all of which makes him want to kiss you breathless, kiss you silly until you have no thoughts but of him, “I’m sure I’m not yours,” you tease, a small smile on your lips, but a slight anxiety about your inexperience lingering in your words. 
He only chuckles, wrapping his arm around you to draw you closer, one hand cupping your jaw and the other sliding through your locks, “But you’re the only one that matters, sweetheart,” and he’s kissing you again, and your lips begin to learn the dance he was teaching you, as he steals your breath and sense in one fell swoop. And when his tongue asks for entrance, he swallows your gasp with a smile, as you part your lips for him. And you swear you almost hear him murmur, “good girl,” between fevered kisses and touches.
Now, his body leaning into you, pressing you against the plush leather of the booth, his hand rested on your thigh now, toying with the hem of the very same dress he had bought you, “Satoru,” you sigh, as your lips finally part a moment, foreheads resting against each other. His eyes take you in, kiss bitten red lips, your cheeks flushed. 
His lips kiss your cheeks, and then your forehead, “I think I should take you home,” his thumb rubs against your lips, pulling at the bottom one.
“What about dessert?” and he shakes his head. 
“There’s only one dessert I’m craving at the moment,” he murmurs, crystal eyes lidded with lust, as he cups your cheek, “and I wouldn’t be keeping my promise if I indulged, now would i?” 
“And if I offered…dessert?” and he makes a noise — a cross between a hiss and a sigh, before shaking his head. 
“I want to do this right,” he murmurs, “I know this isn’t a relationship, but it’s like one — and I want you to enjoy it, and if we rush into things, you may end up getting hurt, and not in the enjoyable way,” he pinches the soft flesh of your thigh teasingly, “let’s get you home, princess, and we can plan our next outing, and our next step,” 
And you rise, as he helps you out of the booth, as the waiter comes over, “Have you changed your mind about dessert?”
Satoru hands him his card, paying off the tab without even a glance at the receipt, “Yes, I had something far more sweeter and satisfying,” he winks at you, as he pockets his card again. He escorts you to the car, hand resting on the small of your back, his side pressed to yours, as if he was afraid you’d slip away any moment. 
The car ride home was spent with quiet conversation and stolen kisses, your hand slid up his thigh to tease him, as his lips slide over a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, both of you moaning lowly, as he stares at you with lidded eyes, “You sure you’ve never done this before?” 
“Promise,” you flush, a rush of pride settling into heat as you saw the way he looked at you, before your lips find his again, “but you make me never want to stop,” and he growls lowly, leaning forward his hand snaking around your waist to nearly pin you down on the seat. 
“Say more words like that and I may lose the hint of self control I have,” he groans, and he’s kissing you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth again, as you slide your hand into his hair, finding smoothness underneath his white locks — an undercut, fuck. 
“Maybe I want you to,” you murmur, and he pulls back to look at you with his crystal gaze, dark pools of lust that made you shiver, his fingers digging into your waist. 
“Don’t tempt me,” and he’s about to kiss you again, when the driver clears his throat, and the two of you glance out the tinted window and realize you have arrived back home. And the fact of the matter was the car hadn’t been moving for quite some time. 
You bite your lip, “Do you want to—” 
And he kisses you softly, his fingers tracing over your jaw, “I want to, but we should take this slow,” he presses another kiss to your cheek that only serves to make me pout, “it will be worth it,” and he leans in to kiss your other cheek, but you turn your head to meet his lips in another kiss, making his breath catch, as you pull away with a smirk. His lips parted, as his gaze darkens, “such a tease, princess — I was thinking you were an angel that I was corrupting, but maybe you’re the one doing the corrupting.” 
“As I should be,” you grin, before pulling open the door, moving to slide out of the car, “call me?” 
“If I don’t, I can always count on you calling me first,” he teases with a wink, “I’ll call tomorrow, dream of me, ok?” 
“And if I don’t?” and he laughs, leaning forward with that smile that always made your heart stammer in your chest. 
“Oh, you will.” 
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“Satoru,” you whined, “can we—” 
“So impatient,” Satoru chides, chuckle rumbling from his chest, voice deliciously raspy from the makeout session they had just had, “forgot how needy you are, baby,” 
And how could you not be? Splayed across his lap, your back pressed to his chest, thighs spread across his now very damp slacks, your dress riding up on either side as his hands slid up your bare legs, his touch teasing enough to have you on edge, your panties growing more drenched by the moment. 
“I need—” 
“You don’t know what you need,” Satoru murmurs, as his fingers brush your hair aside, “do ya, baby? You just want—” and his fingers finally tease your inner thigh, “more, don’t you? Such a greedy little princess,” 
“Only for you,” and that makes him groan in your ear, his lips pressing a kiss behind it, before sucking at your earlobe, “please, Satoru,”
“We have a shopping trip planned, baby, gotta get you some new clothes for our little vacation, don’t we?” He hums, his fingers toying with the edge of your panties, “especially since you keep ruining all of yours,” 
“You’re the one ruining them, baby,” you pout, your lips pressing wet kisses along his jaw, “I know we promised to take it slow, but please, I’ve been so good— don’t I deserve a little reward?” 
He hums, two fingers pulling and snapping the elastic of your panties against your skin, “Let’s go shopping and I’ll see about your reward, Princess,” and your lips purse, as he chuckles, lips pressing against yours, “don’t worry it will be worth the wait.” 
And it was. 
That was how you ended up in this particular predicament, pressed against a changing room wall, the black dress he had insisted on you trying on for him, hiked up around your waist, as his thumb pressed against your puffy clit. 
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, pretty baby?” Satoru coos, his finger beginning to press against the growing wet patch on your panties, “wanted to reward you, and you look so pretty and perfect in this dress, how can I resist?” 
And a whine leaves your throat, and he tuts, “Not so loud, don’t want the other shoppers to hear what we’re doing,” and his fingers finally pull aside the crotch of your soaked underwear, “you’re so fuckin’ wet, baby, you sure this pussy is a virgin?” 
“Satoru, please,” and he pulls your lips into a sloppy kiss, all tongue and teeth, right as his finger finally sinks into your needy cunt. He swallows your moans eagerly, as his thick finger curls against your gummy walls, reaching places you were never able to by yourself. 
“So fuckin’ tight, sweetheart, gonna break my finger, how would I fit my cock in this tight cunt?” And he drags his bulge against your ass, making you gasp at the size of it, “Gonna have to stretch it out, make you nice and loose for me,” 
“Fuck,” you whisper, and he’s grinning as his lips press sweet kisses against your neck, his finger pumping in and out slowly, your slick squelching as he does, finger brushing against that spot that has your knees nearly buckling, “Satoru, I—“ 
“Already gonna cum, baby?” he’s humming, while your lips try and fail to pout, mouth falling open in a silent moan as your walls flutter around his finger, as he fucks you through your orgasm.
But he’s not stopping, as your hand reaches for him, he’s caught you by the wrist, a second finger sinking into your dripping cunt now, “not done with you yet, pretty baby, I know you got more left for me,” he’s scissoring and stretching your walls - curling his fingers just right so he hits that special spot of yours. And it isn’t long until you’re cumming again, his hand covering your mouth, muffling your moan as you ride his fingers. 
“Satoru, please,” you’re nearly crying from the overstimulation, but you’re refusing to use your safe word, as he guides you and him to the seat in the fitting room, sitting on his lap right across from the mirror. 
“Look at you, all fucked out and pretty for me,” his fingers under your chin forces you to look at yourself —- your cunt dripping and spread open, his fingers plunged inside you still, your slick dripping down his hand, “so perfect for me,” he murmurs, “think you have one more for me?” 
His fingers move slowly, parting your walls, making you gasp, “Too sensitive,” you whine, but he’s sliding your lips against yours again, as his fingers begin to push into you, “Satoru,” 
“C’mon baby, this is your reward,” he’s grinning against your lips, “just relax and enjoy it,” 
And you don’t know how many more times he makes you cum. By the end, the dress you’re wearing was ruined, damp from the cum dripping down your thighs, “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it,” he’s cleaning you up, before sliding your underwear back into place, “now let’s find some other clothes for you, baby — need to get you out of this dress now, don’t we?” 
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“Do you want to stay over?” Satoru murmurs, his lips pressed to your neck, making you pause, “I’d stay over at your place, but with your roommates we’ll have an audience,” and he adds, “unless you’re into that,” 
And you roll your eyes, before smiling, “what would staying over entail?” 
“Anything you’d want it to,” he’s kissing your cheek, and then your jaw, and then your lips,“I just want to wake up with you — maybe make breakfast together, maybe a little more if you want to,” 
“That sounds perfect,” and you knew just what you wanted for breakfast. 
“Princess,” he hissed, his ocean blue eyes half lidded as he stared at you between his thighs, “this isn’t what I meant when I said I’d make you breakfast,” 
And you pressed a kiss to his weeping tip — you never expected a cock to be so pretty — but why wouldn’t it be on Satoru Gojo? If a higher being existed, it gave with both hands when it came to him — the tip was flushed red, every vein and curve was perfect, and it was so long. 
“Well this was exactly what I had in mind,” you grinned, your tongue flicked against his slit, collecting the pearl of precum resting there, “couldn’t wait to taste you, Toru — if I couldn’t have you fuck my cunt, I might as well have you fuck my mouth,” 
He swallows thickly at your words, adam’s apple bobbing, crystalline pools clouded with lust, “Careful what you wish for, Princess,” 
“I’m always careful,” you suckle at the swollen tip of his cock sloppily, drawing a moan from his lips. It was clear you were inexperienced — your lips and tongue were clumsy, your fingers grasping at his base were unsure, but the heat in your eyes only made all of your inexperience all the more arousing, “tell me what to do,” 
And Satoru swallows thickly, eyes fluttering down at you, as his lips slowly curl, “start by sucking at the tip, slowly at first,” and you do just as he says, all too eager, making him liable to cum on the spot, “now trace the slit at the tip with your tong—” and he grunts as you’re already doing as he says before his sentence is done, “good girl,” and the praise sends a wave of heat through your body, your needy cunt growing wetter by the second.
“Now, want you to slide my cock into your mouth, mind your teeth,” he warns, “no rewards for bad girls who bite my dick — that’s a lesson for a different day,” he adds with a wink, making you hum around his cock, making it twitch, as you take more of his length, slowly sliding it further into your warm mouth. 
He’s grunting, holding himself back from fucking your mouth then and there — there would be time for that, but right now, he needed to teach you right. 
He was a teacher — first and foremost. 
“Just like that, pretty,” he’s moaning, his fingers gently gripping your head, guiding your mouth up and down his cock, “that’s it — fuuuuck—” and he’s hissing when your fingers toy with his balls, as your tongue traces over his veins, forcing every muscle in his thighs from having you deep throat his cock then and there, “now can you—” 
And you suck at his cock, lips wrapped around, as you stare up at him, eyes lidded with lust, thighs pressed together, as you slurped at his cock, your tongue flicking at his slit, “baby, you sure you’ve never done this before?” and his hips begin to stutter against you, making you gasp around his length, “so fucking perfect for me, baby — know what I like without even trying,” 
And how is he this fucking close already? Is he the virgin or are you? His hips roll into your mouth shallowly, your fingers finding what couldn’t fit in your mouth and stroking it, all while his fingers grasp at the mussed sheets below him, “fuck, sweetheart, ‘m s’close,” and you’re only re-doubling your efforts, cheeks hollowing around him, “you don’t have to—“ but you suck at the tip, tongue laving at his length, and he’s spurting his load down your throat. 
His head falls back, as his hips stutter into your mouth, fingers tugging at your hair, drawing a moan from your lips. And his half lidded eyes falling to your lips around his cock, his cum slipping down the corner of your mouth as you continue to swallow.
“Fuck, baby,” he’s panting, hissing at the sight of you as you pull your lips away from his length, strings of his cum and your spit connecting your mouth to his cock, “such a good fucking girl,” he says, nearly a growl, “my good fucking girl,” 
You’re smiling up at him, watery eyes, as your tongue darts out to clean up his release from your mouth, making his breath catch, “You taste so good, Toru,” and god, you’re so cute — he wanted to spoil you, buy you the whole world and more, and he catches your thighs rubbing together — but first— 
And he’s manhandling you, fingers sinking into your thighs and he’s flipping you onto your back, his chest still heaving, sweat glistening on his forehead, and a grin on his lips. 
“My turn,” he murmurs, sliding his lips against yours, tongue tasting his release on your mouth, before kissing down your body, before he’s settling between your thighs. 
—he was going to have his breakfast. 
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The semester wore on and Satoru became more and more busy with work. His messages became few and far between, and your time together dwindled to nothing. Although he still sent the stipend each month, you found your thoughts wandering to him far too often — daydreams between paragraphs of reading and review for an exam that you didn’t particularly care about. 
This should be the dream right? Money for essentially no effort. You had long forsaken the days of ramen noodle dinners and scraping by on your loans — you should be happy. You could go where you wanted, do what you wanted — but why was the only place you wanted to be was with Satoru? You pulled out your phone, refreshing the notifications over and over as if it would change the outcome — but it didn’t — still no new messages from him. 
Was he really busy with work? Anxiety begins to creep into your mind — or was he busy with someone else? Had he been hanging onto you on the back burner — waiting for someone better to come along? You open Satoru’s text chain — the last message sent was your own — and you chew on your bottom lip. 
Were you about to break your own rule about double texting? 
You type — Hey, just wanted to check on you. Been thinking about you a lot. 
You delete it. Is this desperate? What if he thinks you’re desperate? You’re running your hand over your face, pressing your knuckles against your lips.  
Fuck it. You type the same message and send it. 
Oh, it’s worse. Texting and having to wait for a response is worse — and now you simultaneously want to constantly check your phone and also chuck it in a lake. You lay back on your bed, turning and burying your face in your pillow. 
What the fuck were you doing? 
Several hours pass, and you place your phone in the kitchen, as you sit in your room, trying to focus on studying for your exams, instead of thinking about whether Satoru texted you back or not. You finally allow yourself a break at dinner time, and wander out, spotting a few texts from Satoru. Your heart squeezes as you pick up your phone and check. 
Hey baby, is that your way of saying you miss me? 
Because I miss you too. 
When’s your last exam? 
You bite back a smile — it’s on this Friday — I’ll be done at 6:00 PM. 
He types, and then stops, then types again, and then stops. Then he sends a simple “ok.” 
And you don’t hear from him again, which only makes the rest of the week a delight to get through. You’re sure you scraped by on your exams — Friday didn’t come soon enough, but it had arrived. You stretch as you leave the exam hall — bundled up in your jacket, as you make your way back to your apartment. But only, you're not the only one outside the building. 
Satoru stands, leaning against the side of the car, eyes on his phone as he stands in a long deep gray winter coat, a cream sweater underneath, looking utterly too perfect. He glances up, cerulean blue eyes finding yours, lips curling in a smile that you hoped was only reserved for you. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” and you’re holding yourself back from running, quickly walking over, and he’s closing the gap as well, pulling you into his arms, his arms sliding over your jacket — “is this all you’re wearing? We need to buy you a warmer coat,” 
“Satoru,” you’re shaking your head at his priorities, your fingers sliding over his front before sliding them under his jacket, “what are you doing here?” 
“Well, my project finished up earlier today, so I spent the day preparing a little surprise,” he’s tilting your chin up, leaning down to brush his lips against your jaw, and you shiver — most assuredly not from the cold, “we’re going on a trip,” 
“A trip?” you blink, utterly too distracted by his lips placing wet kisses up and down your jaw, nearing your lips, but always stopping short, “where—” 
“A hot spring — I thought we could use some rest and relaxation,” his lips hover right over your own, his thumb dragging down your bottom lip, “and some privacy — I reserved us a private hot spring,” and his palms slide down to your hips and squeeze, “just you and me,” 
“That sounds amazing — wonder what else you have planned,” your lips lean up and brush against his, making his curl into a smile, and your heart stirs — god, you didn’t care about the money, about the amenities, about the dates — he could have just taken you for a walk and you’d be happy by his side, “I missed you so much, Toru,” 
And he’s kissing you again, his hand sliding back to hold the back of his neck, deepening the kiss before he pulls away. You’re panting as he does, lips kiss bitten red, “I did too, baby, it was so difficult being without you — kept thinking about seeing you. I had to hold myself back from seeing you the minute you texted,” he’s sighing, “but that’s why I thought this weekend would be perfect — spend it just with each other, no distractions,” 
“Toru,” you murmur, “I need to tell you something,” you can’t hold back — you need to tell him, you need him to know, and his lips press into a pout, forehead wrinkled, “I think I have feelings for you — more than what our relationship should have,” your cheeks flush, eyes falling to the ground, and you watch your breath warm the cold air, “I don’t know if you feel the same or if we should stop, but I needed you to know because I—” 
And his finger rests against your lips, eyes nearly shining in the moonlight, “You really mean that, sweetheart?” and you swallow the lump in your throat, before nodding. And he grins, before his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, pulling you impossibly closer, wrapping you in his jacket as he presses himself against you, “I have feelings for you too — I have for a while,”
“You—do?” you manage between kisses and breathes, and you look up at him with wide eyes and parted lips — and you’re so impossibly cute — he has to hold himself back from taking you against his car then and there — “Satoru, please—” 
“I do, I do, sweetheart, you said you’ve never done any of this before, well I’ve never done half of the things I’ve done with you,” he murmurs, a chuckle caught in his words, “do you think I’d plan a trip like this for just anyone? I’ve never even engaged in this sort of relationship before — until I saw you,” 
You pause, mouth agape, “So you’ve never had a different—” 
“You’re my one and only baby,” he teases, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, “and worth every cent, second, and effort I’ve used,” And you bite back a smile, eyes slightly glassy, “what?” 
“I thought — I don’t know, when I hadn’t heard from you, I thought you had found someone else, that you were going to leave, and it just seems so silly now,” you shake your head, but he’s cupping your chin, meeting your gaze. 
“It is silly, baby,” he’s pressing another kiss to your lips, “because I’d never leave you — and I’m not planning on it, are you?” 
“No! No, of course not,” and he laughs at your eager reply, making your cheeks hot, as he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, “Toru—” 
“At this rate, you’re gonna make me fall for you, princess,” and your fingers card through his hair, grinning as kisses your neck, and you make him look at you — pale skin flushed from the weather or your touch, it could be either. 
“That’s the plan.” 
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“Was this part of your plan?” Satoru’s voice is caught, as looks at you — oh and he could look at you forever. 
Your innocent lips painted pink, a perfect accent to the light cerulean lingerie that you had wrapped yourself in. The lace and see through panels left almost nothing to the imagination, but at the same time, hid just enough. You were a present ready to be unwrapped — and you wanted him to do the unwrapping. 
“You tell me,” you chuckle, twirling a strand of your hair between your fingers, letting your legs spread further apart, making him drop the bouquet he was holding, “nothing to say?” 
It had been a few weeks since your trip away and you had been hinting at wanting to finally have your first time with Satoru. But each time, he always ended up fingering you or sucking you off — he was hesitant, he didn’t want you to regret your choice. 
But how to explain that you could never regret him? Well, this was the only way to think of — a hammer instead of a gentle hand. 
And his gaze grows lidded, mouth dry, as he steps forward, “sweetheart—“ 
“You kept saying you wanted our first time to be special, but you don’t get it—“ you reach out and tug him closer by his tie, “my first time will always be special if it’s you,” you kiss his jaw, smiling, and he’s wordless as he stares at you, hesitancy eating away at your confidence “but if you don’t want—“ 
And he’s got you pinned under him, knee pressed between your thighs, his fingers sliding up and down your exposed skin of your sides, his perfect lips curved in a smile, “I guess we’re really not understanding each other, baby,” his lips ghost over the nape of your neck, as he inhaled deeply, before pulling back, his thumb now dragging over your lips, “I want you — badly,” and his fingers tease the fabric of your lingerie, “you don’t know how many times I’ve come close to giving into you, to wanting to just fuck you like I’ve dreamed about, fantasized about — but, I guess I was waiting for a perfect moment that didn’t exist — since every moment with you is special, right?” He teased, making you flush. 
“I want you too, Toru, so bad,” you rub yourself against his knee, “I can’t wait anymore, are you gonna fuck me or—“ 
His knee grinding against you cuts you off with a whine, “don’t tempt me so much, sweetheart, we gotta do this right,” his lips find yours again, all tongue and teeth, as he swallows your noises and more with pleasure, his knee rubbing against you in earnest, “gotta prep you right,” he murmurs reverently. 
His lips trail from your lips to press wet kisses to your jaw, and his fingers part your thigh further — and you let him with ease. And his lips tease the edge of your lingerie, “it’d be a shame to take this off, so maybe I’ll just take you in it,” his mouth closes over your clothed nipple, teasing it through the fabric, making you gasp,  “but then again, I wouldn’t  be able to see your body without any obstructions. Decisions, decisions,” 
And he’s snapping the shoulder strap against your skin, as he pulls his knee away, the dark damp patch on the fabric, “Plesse, Toru, I need more—“ and his lips curl, as his fingers tease your clothed cunt, two fingers dragging right down the slit. The wet fabric barely doing anything to stop the press of his pads against your sensitive folds. 
“So wet for me already, sweetheart? I’m flattered,” he grins, leaning down to inhale, before a soft moan leaves his lips, “your scent is as good as you taste,” making you keen against him at his words — you could never grow used to the sight of him between your thighs, his blue irises fixed on your cunt. 
“Just for you, Toru,” and he bites back a groan, his gaze half lidded with lust, “only for you,” 
He can’t wait anymore. 
He kisses up your body, teasing your bellybutton with his tongue, dragging his mouth up your abdomen until he reaches your lips. And he kisses you again, lips burning against yours, stealing any coherent thought with only a brush of his lips or a stolen touch of your thighs. But now his lips reach the waistband of your lacy panties, giving another broad lick, tasting you through the soaked material, before he’s sliding two fingers inside the elastic tugging it down your legs. 
“As much I love your lingerie — it needs to go,” and he’s sniffing the fabric with a small moan, before pocketing it with a wide grin,  “for now,” 
“Toru, those were expensive—“ 
“I know, my money paid for them,” he winks, making you shiver with a graze of his teeth against your inner thigh, “I’ll buy you as many as you like, as long I’m the only one taking them off,” his warm breath makes your cunt twitch as his fingers part your pussy, stretching out your walls — so fucking tight,  “s’pretty, all for me,” his thumb brushing against your clit, making you whine, “so needy, pretty girl — you need my cock that bad?” He’s thumbing your chin, making you meet his gaze and his cock throbs — you were already so fucked out — chest nearly heaving, your breasts nearly escaping their cups; your lips parted with pants and soft moans; and your eyes fixed on him, lidded and needy — it was enough for him to cum there and then. 
Was he the virgin or were you? 
“I’ll give you my cock, baby,” his tongue finally licks up your cunt, savoring the taste of you on his tongue — sweetest thing he’d ever had — “but I’m going to have your cunt first,” 
You’re a mess — moaning and twitching as your fingers grasp at his snowy locks, white strands between your fingers bury him deeper in your aching warmth, thighs nearly suffocating him — and he wouldn’t want to die any other way, honestly. Fuck, how is he so good at this? Two seconds, and you’re ready to squirt all over his face — the way his tongue drags against your insides and flicks against your clit, before sliding back into your sweet cunt, making your walls twitch around him. 
And he can’t help but grind against his sheets and mattress, surely leaving a stain on his pants — but fuck, he couldn’t help it. All he couldn’t help it — all he wanted to was sink into you, bury himself deep inside, until he made you cum over and over — but he wanted this to be good for you. 
It’s when his lips close around your clit and suck as your fingers sink into you once again and fuck you open when it’s all over for you. You’re moaning unabashedly now, your back arching and your legs trembling as you cum hard, his name on your lips in an almost scream, as he only eats you out through your orgasm, tongue lapping every drop of your release, as you come down from your high. Intense pleasure ebbs away to slight twitches and heavy pants, as you look down at him with fucked out eyes, his face absolutely covered in your glossy release, as his pink tongue darts out to collect the rest, back of his hand taking care of the rest, your cunt convulsing at the sight of him. 
“Know it was good, but didn’t realize it was that good,” and he’s leaning up, sliding off the bed to strip off his jacket before undo the buttons of his shirt’s cuffs, fingers deftly undoing his button-up now, “so perfect for me,” and he’s pulling his phone from his pocket, as he leans down to part your thighs for him, his gaze dark with lust as he snaps a few pictures of your leaking cunt, “such a pretty princess cunt,” and you hear the clink of his belt as he undoes it, your gaze lifting as your eyes raked over his defined abs and muscles, following all the way down to his v-line and below…
Fuck. 
You knew he was big — hell you could barely fit him in your mouth, but how the fuck was he going to fit inside you? And your nerves come back full force, but mixed with an excitement — an excitement and a relief that your first time — your first time would be with someone you loved, would be with someone that the word ‘love’ failed to encompass your feelings for. 
Even when he was a teasing ass. 
“Like what you see, baby?” he’s grinning, as he drags his engorged tip against your fluttering walls, smearing his pre-cum against yours, groaning as he watches it mix, “fuck, been dreaming about this for so long,” as he leans over you to press a kiss to your sweet lips, the lust mixing with love — an entire ocean of love that threatens to drown you if you look for too long, “are you sure?” the words are said with such concern, such care, such gentleness that it almost makes you want to cry — but you don’t know why. 
“I am, always, when it’s you,” and your fingers find his cheek, as you lean up to kiss him, his lips curved in a smile reserved for you. 
“Don’t go getting all soft on me now, sweetheart,” and you laugh. 
“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you, old man—” and you gasp as he presses the tip against your entrance, waiting for your go-head to push in — but that doesn't mean he couldn’t make you eat your words. 
“What was that, baby?” it’s his turn to laugh and yours to pout, before you’re pulling him close again. 
“Satoru, please—” and your gazes meet again, and there’s no need for any more discussion. He moves slow, lining himself up, making sure he is lubricated enough to slip into you. 
“If I’m hurting you—-” 
“I’ll scream,” you tease, and he snorts. 
“I’d like to see you screaming for a different reason, but that works too,” and he’s leaning down to capture your lips once more, as he sinks into you slowly. Your lips part in a gasp, your expression twisting with the discomfort you felt, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t tolerate, and his eyes meet yours, as you give a nod, and inch by inch, he fits himself in you — until he finally bottoms out. 
You both groan, his fingers running through your hair, “So fucking perfect f’me, sweetheart,” and he’s not moving, letting you get used to him filling you up, “I know, it’s so much, isn’t it, baby? But you’re doing so well,” and his lips met yours again, as the slight discomfort ebbs away, all you feel is want, want as his tip finds your cervix, want as you feel your walls meld to his shape, and want when you hear the low groan stuck in his throat, “good girl, my best girl,” 
And you can’t help the desperate whine that parts your throat, “Please, move,” you nod, and that’s all he needs for him to pull back and thrust back in, pulling gasps and moans from your pretty lips. 
“That’s it, baby,” he grunts, as he falls into a rhythm, “fuck, your cunt is practically sucking me back in — getting the feeling you don’t want me to stop, sweetheart,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your neck, in contrast to the dirty squelch of your cunt and the slapping of your hips with his as he fucked you. 
It felt so good. 
Your fingers find purchase on his neck, fingers dragging through his white locks and undercut, drawing him impossibly closer, as his lips close over one of your nipples, licking and sucking as he thrusted into you. And he’s guiding your legs around his waist, and your legs pull him ever closer — ever deeper — as he groans against you. He presses sloppy wet kisses along your collarbone, his groan vibrating against your skin. 
“Look at that, pretty girl, taking me so well,” he’s grunting, as he looks at where you two meet, watching himself sink into you over and over, “g’nna make you only want this cock — no one else’s — all mine,” and you’re so close — your head buried in the nape of his neck, and he could hear every pant, moan, gasp right as it left your mouth, “such pretty noises — never made these noises for anyone else, have you, baby? Just f’me,” 
And you nod, eyes fluttering shut, “Close, s’close,” pleasure building, like a coil ready to snap, you can’t find the words — “I’m—“ 
“Cum on my cock, Princess,” his fingers press down against your clit, rubbing and that’s it, “let me make you feel good,” 
Your walls clamp down hard his dick twitching in your cunt, a low groan leaving his lips, as he fucked you through your orgasm, and his hips stutter against you, low moans leaving his lips. 
It felt so right. Pleasure washing over you as your toes curled, your eyes nearly rolling back, as you came. And he can’t stand it much longer — 
“Where—“ he groans, your slick cunt too much for him, your cum drenching him, “I’m close—“ 
“Inside, please, I—“ and he gives a shaky chuckle. 
“So greedy, baby — want my cum too?” He kisses you, long and soft as he moaned your name far too loud, his warm, thick load spilling inside you, as he fucked it inside, “look at that, filled you up so good,” as he finally stills inside of you, as he eases out, groaning as he watches your mixed release slip from inside you and trickle down his balls, “s’good, so perfect for me,” 
He grabs a towel to clean you up, gently cleaning your thighs, murmuring sweet nothings. Before he leans down to press a kiss to your reddened lips. 
“Are you okay?” He runs his fingers through your hair, and you nod, as you cup his cheek. 
“I’m perfect,” you sigh, as he curls up beside you, burying his face in the nape of your neck, “and you?” 
“What’s more than ‘perfect?’” And you snort, before he’s leaning over you, “what?” 
“You’re such a dork,” 
“But I’m your dork, your very rich dork, who loves to spoil you,” and you laugh, pulling him close. 
“Just mine,” and he’s kissing you again. 
“Just yours.” 
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And you find yourself at that same bar you did many moons ago. 
You nurse a soda, instead of a drink, because you didn’t care for the taste of alcohol. Habits die hard with the company you kept. You felt the gaze of several people on you, but none of them approached — and you didn’t mind one bit. 
“Mind if I sit here?” And you smile, stirring your soda with its straw, not bothering to look up at the sound of this very familiar voice. The same voice that had woken you up with several kisses to your neck this morning. 
“Not at all,” you reply, as you slide over his fruity drink — some concoction that is utterly too sweet — “you’re late,” 
Satoru sighs, swirling his drink in its glass. “Well, the business partners were particularly chatty. I think they knew we had dinner plans,” Satoru sips at his drink, pouting, as you comfort him with a chaste kiss to his cheek, “how’d the job interview go?” 
“I think they might give me the offer,” you smile, but you shrug, leaning against the surprisingly not sticky bar counter,  “I’m not too worried either way,” 
“I told you don’t have to work—“ 
“And I told you I want at least to work part-time to contribute something,” you remind him, as you lean close, fingers lacing with his with a squeeze, “don’t worry we will spend a lot of time together,” and he’s still pouting. 
“That’s not enough,” 
“Plenty?” And he relents, murmuring something about “that’s better,”, “where are we going for dinner anyway?” You raise an eyebrow, “such secrecy tonight,” 
“I have to keep you on your toes, sweetheart, can’t have you losing interest,” he smiles, as his fingers reach into his pocket, and you roll your eyes, unimpressed. 
“Never,” you roll your eyes, as he leans over and presses a kiss to his neck, and he’s finding your lips, fingers brushing your cheek, panting as he parts, “I know you’re trying to avoid the question.” 
And he only offers a grin, before he’s holding a ring before you, “take a guess,” 
You stare at it, blinking, your fingers covering your mouth, “Satoru—“ 
“I told you a long time ago here that I wanted to be the one to take care of you — and now I’m asking to take care of you forever,” and you can’t help but grin, “I’m sure we can reach another agreement — as long as you let me call you my wife,” 
And you’re already pulling him into your arms, lips sliding against his, as he melts into the kiss, “is that a yes?” 
You laugh, offering your hand, “put the ring on me,” and he does, sliding it onto your finger, smiling. 
“You won’t regret it,” and you kiss him again, pressing your forehead to his.  
“I know,” because saying yes to marrying Satoru Gojo was surely the smartest idea you’ve ever had.  
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✴︎ a/n: s/o to @laneysmusings for being the best beta reader, and i was truly possessed with the idea of having gojo take care of me and hearing mei mei say that he's "so rich" and he's like " well, she ain't lying." I also didn't listen to agora hills while writing this fic, but i used all the edits of gojo to that song as insp for the title and header lol.
✴︎ taglist: @deegausserr, @satoryaa, @orianakira, @tinnkerbell, @laylasbunbunny, @aztecmoonwarrior, @empresslazingway, @chosoilysm, @idktbhloley, @lorain07, @dreampiies, @nestafarren, @daydreamermarimo, @hydraafk, @theonetheycallbatman, @soccasium, @clearlandchild, @indigoghnights, @cha-raena, @strawberiicreme, @thegreatandpowerfulloreothecat, @jgh15hog, @onlyangeltae, @satocidal, @mrsmoriarty-holmes, @arrloww, @kyyyynziee
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME#there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing#and the writing is what i need to be doing#writeblr#this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to#edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol#i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means#i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong#i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse#i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO#i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness#and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it#im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us#i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer#and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work#even if it means being miserable#but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.
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andypantsx3 · 7 months ago
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contents: general bakugou x princess reader; fem + afab virgin reader. nsft; oral (f receiving) & missionary. semi-sequel to this drabble. 3.2k.
Your wedding day arrives far earlier than you are prepared for.
It’s a tense affair, for you at least. The country depends on it, and you feel the scheming eyes of the nobility hot on your skin as you pronounce your vows to Bakugou. They will not take kindly to your having chosen him over their sons and brothers, over their own desire to rise to power. There will be a price they will want you to pay, soon enough.
The chapel is resplendent with sumptuous decor, the court in their finest. But the room is fringed with Bakugou’s men in their military leathers, a reminder that this is not a happy day, but rather a dangerous political stunt. It keeps the noble houses docile while they are in the room with you, but you know they will return to their estates and their plans. 
Your fate is in Bakugou’s hands, now, in more ways than one.
The ceremony is dizzying, and impossible to wrap your head around. The preceptor pronounces Bakugou your prince-consort, ostensibly to remain so while you assume the throne after your father’s passing. You will continue to rule him as his sovereign. But your vows to Bakugou also promise him your obedience as his wife. 
It is a contradiction, an impossible trap, the very reason why the general is the only man you could stomach the thought of marrying. If a husband is to rule you after all, Bakugou will do so justly. 
The thought does not stifle your nerves, however, as you make your way back down the aisle, sit down to the reception, and take your meal. A disquieting, anticipatory feeling settles over you, fizzing under your skin. You barely pick at your dinner, and drink too much of the wine.
You can tell Bakugou notices, scarlet gaze ever-perceptive, though he does not say anything until you are shepherded to the bridal suite to consummate.
Various aides try to follow you in to prepare you, but Bakugou slams the door closed on them, propping it shut with one broad shoulder. He barks at them to scram.
“Lord General—that is, Your Highness,” one of them stutters through the door. “We are required to witness the consummation—to verify that it is complete.”
A bolt of shame goes through you at this, and you catch hold of one of the intricately-carved wooden bed pillars. Bakugou grunts, holding the door closed with one palm while spinning to the nearby dressing table and chair. He grabs the chair, wedging it forcefully up under the door handle.
“You’ll be sure of consummation when I’m done here,” he growls through the door. “Don’t need you little fucking perverts making eyes the whole damn time. Now beat it.”
A weird sound escapes you, something between a gasp and a laugh—at his promise, at his gruffness.
“Your Highness,” comes a plaintive entreaty through the door. Bakugou slams a fist against it, and you hear a squeal and a sound like someone’s fallen over their feet.
An absurd laugh seizes you, and Bakugou eyes you pettishly.
“The fuck’re you laughing about,” he says, but there’s no heat in it.
Your fingers twist on the bedpost, nervously tracing the lines. “You’re taking to your new post well.”
Bakugou’s features twist into something dangerously satisfied, a smirk painting his mouth. Your breath comes short.
“My post,” he echoes, raising an eyebrow. “As your husband.”
Your stomach swoops. The disquiet flames back to life under your skin, settling heavy in your gut like a stone. 
“I supposed it is a post like any other,” you say, fixing your gaze on the ground. “There are responsibilities and… marital duties.”
You hear the soft tread of Bakugou’s boot as he steps away from the door, the rustle of his doublet as he draws closer. His many medals and ceremonial sword belt clink softly. It is a fashion you know he does not prefer, always living in his shirtsleeves—the better to fight in, to train in.
A calloused hand takes your chin, tipping your face up to his.
“You nervous, Princess?” he asks. His tone is obnoxious, as usual, but his crimson gaze traces your face.
You barely suppress a shiver under his touch. Your stomach churns with a thousand emotions and you find you don’t know how to feel. Relieved that you’ve made it this far. Annoyed with Bakugou’s composure and general manner. Apprehensive about what is to come. And warm, suddenly, all over. You do not want to examine why.
“Nonsense,” you sniff. 
A feral smile curls the corner of Bakugou’s mouth like he sees right through you. “You’ve never been with a man.”
Your face burns but you force yourself to return Bakugou’s assessing stare. “I’ve never been to Musutafu, either, but I know it well enough. I should think I am… prepared.”
Something hot alights in Bakugou’s gaze, burning like a coal. It’s not unlike how he looked at you that night in the dark outside his chambers, when you’d first come to him with this wild proposal.
“And what do you think you know,” he says, flatter than a question.
Your nose grows hot. “Enough.”
A thumb slides along your jaw, settling against the pulse in your neck. “Answer the question, angel.”
Your face just might be on fire. You steel yourself, reciting dispassionately. “You will undress me and then… enter me. I shall lie still—they say you can breathe through the pain and it will go away after some time. You will… work yourself to completion. And then we shall be done.”
A snort comes from Bakugou. “Is that how you royal tightasses do it?”
You feel your eyes narrow. “That is how everyone does it.”
Your ladies in waiting had been very emphatic. All of them had spoken of the same mechanics. The initial discomfort, the pain, the way a husband moved upon his wife until he was satisfied.
“You don’t know shit, Princess,” Bakugou says.
You reach up to pull his hand from your face, but he tenses, arm growing solid and immovable. 
“Explains why all you nobles are such fucking tight-buttoned pricks if that’s how you’re doing it.”
Your reply is startled out of you when his hand finds your waist. You take a step back, and then another, startling again when your back finds the wall. Bakugou follows you, eyes hot.
“You are insufferable,” you inform him hotly. “I am sure of the matter.”
“You’re always sure of a lot of things, Princess,” he says. His hand is back at your waist, and suddenly all your skin feels too hot and tight, stifling like a velvet dress in summer.
“I am sure you are the most obnoxious man on earth,” you say. “Now be quiet and commence with it. Let’s have done with it.”
Bakugou’s face is suddenly closer than you’d remembered it being.
“I’ll have done with you alright,” he says. “But I’m not gonna do it like you little uppity prudes.”
You find you can’t think of what he means, all of your thoughts clouded with his proximity, the feeling of his hand moving to your skirts.
“I—but there is only the one way,” you manage. None of your ladies had mentioned anything else.
Bakugou’s mouth cuts into a smirk again, and you hate him for how pretty it is. 
“We’ll fuckin’ see about that,” he says.
And then his mouth is pressed to yours. 
It’s nothing like the stilted peck you’d been obliged to give him at the ceremony—one that still left your face burning, for some unknowable reason. This feels entirely different in its intensity. Bakugou’s mouth is hot and soft and tempting and eager, and your body thrills with it.
Every inch of your skin feels like it zings with lightning when he licks into your mouth, and he presses you harder into the wall. You feel his groan all the way down to your toes.
“B–akugou,” you pant when his mouth leaves yours, only to stifle a yip when he moves down to your throat. He sucks a mark there, laving over it with his tongue, and you feel like you're melting in his hands. “That’s—not my—ah!—mouth,” you manage.
The tiniest scrape of teeth has you yelping again, and you find yourself clutching his bicep for purchase.
“No shit,” he says, leaving another mark lower, mapping his way towards your chest. Calloused fingers come up to cup one of your breasts, thumb swiping over your nipple through your stays. You catch hold of his hair, yanking a fistful of that flaxen blonde, clenching your thighs together.
“What are you doing?” you hiss. 
Bakugou looks up at you, expression annoyed. “Consummating.”
“But you’re not undressing me,” you say. “And shouldn’t we—on the bed?
Bakugou raises a blonde eyebrow. “They tell you it needs to be on a bed, too?”
You blink, momentarily disarmed. It was quite literally called sharing the marriage bed—where else were you supposed to do it?
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same thing?” you eventually ask him.
Both of Bakugou’s eyebrows shoot for the moon, and he looks very suddenly like he wants to laugh. A grin yanks at his mouth, sharp and beautiful.
“I knew you’d be a fucking handful,” he says, his tone somehow both annoyed and delighted. “Don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about and you’re still trying to give me orders.”
You yank at the fistful of his hair you’re still clutching and he hisses, hand shooting out to grab yours. He works your grip off of him, pinning your wrist to the wall. The air in the room suddenly feels a hundred times thicker, like trying to breathe through honey.
“Listen closely, Princess,” he tells you, leaning in. “We're going to consummate, alright. But I’m not just gonna squeeze my eyes shut and stick it in. I’m going to do what I want first, and you’re going to be good and let me.”
Your face ignites in flame. You want to disagree reflexively. “If it’s going to be painful I’d rather just have it over with, if you don’t mind,” you say.
Bakugou stares back, scarlet gaze roving over you. “It’s not gonna be if you shut up and let me do what I want.”
You blink. You hadn’t heard that there was a way around the pain—why hadn’t anyone told you?
“I—really?” you ask.
Bakugou nods. “Really.”
“Oh,” you say. “Well then… you may proceed, I suppose.”
“You suppose,” he echoes, staring you down. The look on his face makes you want to lean forward and bite it off.
“Well get on with it,” you say, arching your eyebrows.
Bakugou looks for a moment like he wants to shake you. But he ducks his head instead, lowering his mouth to yours again.
“Gonna fuck that bossiness right out of you,” he mutters, low like he’s promising himself and not you. But then he kisses you again, muffling your gasp in his mouth.
You’ve never kissed another man, and do not have a frame of reference for what he’s doing. But Bakugou is a good kisser, you think. Every flick of his tongue feels like someone has uncorked champagne and poured it beneath your skin, and every brush of his mouth against yours sends a liquid heat racing through your veins.
You moan into his mouth when calloused fingers delve beneath the collar of your gown, dipping into your stays and pinching a nipple. He rolls it carefully, and you arch against him without any say-so from your brain. 
“Been thinking about this, Princess,” he says. “Ever since I saw you in that little nightdress. Gonna show you what it really means to be with a man.”
You’re excused from answering by his mouth back on yours. Not that you think you could, with the way his fingers feel in the cups of your stays, or the press of a strong thigh between your own.
“Bakugou,” you gasp when he peels off of you, only to sink to his knees before you.
“It’s Katsuki,” he says, busying himself with the hem of your skirts. 
“B–Katsuki,” you say. “What are you doing?”
Long fingers roll up the hemline of your dress, then yank at your underthings, exposing you to him. You gasp again, moving to cover yourself, but Bakugou pins you to the wall with an arm across your stomach, catching your thigh and pulling it over his shoulder.
“Husbandly duties,” he replies, another smirk on his mouth.
And then your head thunks against the wall as that mouth moves, pressing to you.
“Katsuki!” you shout, biting off into an embarrassing moan when he laves over you. No one had told you about this part—about how a man’s mouth there would make you feel like fireworks had just been lit off in your veins. About how a man’s mouth could even go there at all.
Bakugou doesn’t reply, kissing you there as he had your lips. A delicate suck from him over the cleft of you has you arching in his hands again, and you can quite literally feel him smirking against you.
He works you thoroughly, licking and sucking for what feels like torturous hours, but must only be minutes, until you’re a writhing, panting mess, only held upright by the arm he has banded across your lower stomach. There’s a pressure rising within you, pooling in all your limbs, making you shake and shiver with it, and what feels like no way to release it.
“Katsuki—I feel strange,” you say, bucking against his mouth. “Oh—oh!”
“Just hold on, sweetheart, and let yourself feel it,” Katsuki tells you, before licking back over you. A finger presses up inside of you, foreign but strangely good in conjunction with his mouth. Then another one presses in and they curl as if seeking something, making you twist in his grip.
And then something makes you jerk—the press of Katsuki’s fingers inside you in just the right spot, while he sucks on you, feeling like he’s touching the same place inside of you from both sides.
Something inside you snaps, uncoiling, pleasure flooding down you like a mudslide. You cry out Bakugou’s name, tears in your vision, riding out your pleasure against his mouth. Bakugou licks you through it, groaning low in his throat with appreciation.
“That’s it, Princess,” he says, tone rough. “Now you’re ready for consummation.”
You hear his words as if through a haze, and it’s only once you’re moving—being picked up and carried over to the bed—that you register what he’s saying.
He frees himself from his breeches, and stretches out over you, kissing your mouth. You’re embarrassed to taste yourself on him, but the press of him to you overrides that concern. In one smooth stroke he presses in, and you are shocked to find that he slides home easily, your core slick and ready.
It feels strange, but not at all unpleasant—absolutely nothing like what they’d told you.
“You alright, Princess?” Bakugou asks.
“I—yes,” you say, voice fluttering off when he flexes his hips, moving inside of you. The slide of him inside of you is unexpectedly good, especially when he lowers a hand to your core, pressing a thumb to that bundle of nerves at the hood of you.
“Feel good?” he asks, his eyes hot on your face. You cling to him, hips lifting into him unthinkingly as his thumb pets over you again, as he presses in and out of you a few more times.
You nod, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.
He grins anyway, feral and fever-bright. His pace picks up into something faster, and you’re embarrassed to hear the slap of him against you, the eager way your body welcomes him in.
The band of pressure builds up inside you again, slowly, with every sure stroke of Bakugou inside you. He’s hot and hard and heavy over you, pressing you into the mattress, and the tops of his cheeks are flush with effort—the way he looks sometimes when he’s just come in from the training pitch.
He’s beautiful—handsome and strong and hot-headed and determined. And it dawns on you that he’s yours now—not just your subject but your husband, your prince consort, and now your lover.
It makes all your skin turn molten hot again, especially when you look down and see your knees have rucked his shirt up. You can see the flex of his abs as he thrusts between your thighs, all that golden skin and dense muscle.
The slide of him inside you and the sight of him over you is suddenly too much, and you feel yourself tip right over the edge again. Bakugou catches your hand as you lift it to muffle your cry, kissing over your knuckles.
“That’s it, Princess, that’s it,” he says again, ducking his head to kiss you.
You moan into his mouth as he fucks you through it, and he groans with the clench of you.
“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he says against your lips, pace picking up faster. “Knew you would, sweetheart, yeah.”
Embarrassingly you feel almost like you could come apart again with the praise. Bakugou groans once more, and you can hear his grip tighten in the blanket next to your head. His hips buck and flex, wildly uncontrolled now, until he gives one final hard thrust.
His weight pins you down when he relaxes over you, his breath tickling over your shoulder. You find you like the weight of him on you, covering you, like a shield against the rest of the world.
Apt, for a general.
“Better than how you wanted to do it, wasn’t it, Princess?” he asks, smug.
You scoff, but you catch the flash of a white grin in the corner of your vision. There is really no question that he’d had the better of it, this time.
“Knew you’d see it my way,” he says.
Over him, you can hear the flutter of feet outside the door, some muffled discussion. Heat rises to your face when you realize the castle aids most definitely heard you cry out under Bakugou’s ministrations. There will be no doubt of your consummation now, regardless of whether you were observed.
“Nosy fuckin’ perverts,” Bakugou says, rolling off of you. You catch another flicker of his chest with the way his shirt gapes, and he looks doubly smug when he notices.
“Not done yet, angel?” he says.
“I am, thank you.” You flush, embarrassed at having been caught. But Bakugou stretches an arm out to yank you over him, pressing you down over his hips.
Your stomach flutters.
“Give me a couple more minutes, Princess,” Bakugou says, scarlet eyes flashing with heat once more. His hand raises to trail through your hair, catching in the wedding hairstyle they’d pinned you into. 
“Five more minutes,” your new husband promises you, with a grin like the devil. “And then we'll give them something to really listen to.”
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iuchamjohta · 1 month ago
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Sultry Guidance Pt 1? Ft Irene and Karina
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As promised the 1k special, and I included the top 2 winners as a surprise for this fic! longest fic I have written hope you guys enjoy! Lots of smut ahead
Word count: 12254 Tags: Threesome, handcuffs, rimjob, tit fuck, rough sex, anal play, tit fuck
You adjust your collar one last time, your hands trembling slightly despite your efforts to appear composed. Tonight is the night: your date with Karina at the elegant outdoor restaurant you’ve chosen. A mix of excitement and nervousness fills you, and you glance at the clock, feeling time slip through your fingers too quickly. The distant hum of conversation and the clink of glasses from cheers only add to your mounting nerves. The doorbell of the restaurant rings, as you hear someone enter and you take a deep breath, your heart thudding loudly in your chest.
It’s been two weeks since you last saw Karina, and today was the first official date that you had asked her out on.  Looking up, you see Karina walking towards you like someone who is from heaven. Her tall, graceful figure is accentuated by a flowing midnight-blue dress that drapes elegantly to the ground. The dress seems to move in elegance with her, adding a touch of ethereal magic to her presence. Her dark, lustrous hair cascades in soft waves, framing her face with effortless beauty. Her eyes, deep and captivating, lock onto yours, and your heart skips a beat. 
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“You’re beautiful,” you subconsciously said. “Thank you, you look dashing as well’’. The warm, inviting smile she gives you seems to dissolve your anxiety, even if only momentarily. 
As you escort her through the restaurant, you feel your pulse quicken with every step. The tables are elegantly set with flickering candles, creating a romantic ambiance throughout the restaurant. You owe your best friend Yeji for this. She had played the perfect cupid for you and her sister Karina, which was what led you to this point in the first place.
You guide her to a beautifully set table that you have reserved in the outdoors, where the city lights could be seen glimmering in the distance. Your hands are slightly unsteady as you pull out her chair, trying to maintain your composure. As you settle into your own seat, the conversation starts with a few stilted exchanges, but Karina’s laughter, the warmth of her gaze, and her easy grace begin to put you at ease. 
Throughout the evening, the ambiance of the restaurant—the soft strains of a live jazz band, the gentle clinking of glasses, and the warm glow of candlelight—seems to envelop you both. Karina’s smile, her laughter, and the way she engages with you make your heart race a little less. The nerves that initially gripped you give way to a growing sense of connection and contentment. As the night unfolds under the starry sky, you realize that despite your initial anxiety, this evening is becoming something truly magical.
As the evening draws to a close, you both linger over the last of your dessert, savouring the moment and the connection that has deepened throughout the night. The waiter discreetly clears the table, and you both stand, your heart still fluttering from the enchanting evening. 
You moved outside the restaurant with Karina, the cool night air a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the restaurant. The city lights sparkle around you as you flag a cab. As you wait, Karina turns to you, her eyes reflecting a certain form of mischief. 
“I had a wonderful time tonight,” she says, her voice soft and inviting. “But I’m not quite ready for this night to end. Would you like to come over to my place? It is just around the corner.” 
Your heart skips a beat, a mix of surprise and exhilaration coursing through you. You nod, a smile spreading across your face. “I’d like that very much.”
The cab ride to her apartment is filled with light, easy conversation. When you arrive, you follow her up to her apartment and as the door opens to her cozy, stylishly decorated living room, you are amazed at how inviting the space looked. Karina leads you inside and plays some soft music playing in the background creating a warm, intimate setting.
She heads to the kitchen to pour a couple of glasses of wine, and you take a moment to look around, appreciating the soft, ambient glow of her home. When she returns with the glasses, she hands you yours and moves closer, her smile both playful and tender. The atmosphere between you is charged, each moment stretching with the promise of something more.
You both stand close, the conversation fading into a comfortable silence. Karina’s gaze lingers on yours, her eyes filled with a mix of desire and affection. She gently places her glass down and reaches up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. Your heart races as she leans in, and you can’t resist the pull any longer. You close the distance, your lips meeting hers in a kiss that is both tender and passionate. 
It’s as if the world outside has faded away, leaving only the sensation of her touch and the intoxicating connection between you. As the kiss deepens, you both lose yourselves in the moment, the excitement and longing of the evening culminating in this perfect, electric embrace. The night is still young, and with Karina in your arms, it feels like the beginning of something extraordinary. 
As the make out session continues, you and Karina became more attuned to each other’s desires, each touch and kiss heightening the electric intimacy between you. You gently pull her closer, her body pressing against yours as your kisses grow increasingly urgent yet still tender. You had moved to the sofa in her living room. The plush sofa beneath you both seems to mold to your forms, creating a perfect cocoon of warmth and closeness.
Karina’s hands explore your chest and shoulders with a newfound intensity, her fingertips tracing the contours of your muscles with a delicate, teasing touch. Her touch ignites a trail of heat that travels through your body, amplifying the passion of the moment. You respond by shifting slightly, positioning yourself so you can fully immerse in the sensation of her skin against yours.
As you continue to kiss, your lips wander from hers to her neck, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses that elicit soft, contented sighs from her. Her head tilts back slightly, giving you more access to her delicate skin. The combination of your gentle kisses and her soft responses creates a rhythm that feels almost instinctual, a dance of passion and affection.
Karina’s fingers move to your hair, gently tangling and pulling you closer. Her touch is both assertive and loving, guiding you with a tender but insistent pressure. You take the cue, your kisses growing more fervent as you explore the sensitive spots along her collarbone and the curve of her shoulder. The heat between you both intensifies, and Karina’s breathing becomes more rapid. She arches slightly into your touch, her body reacting eagerly to each caress. 
You slide one hand down her back, feeling the softness of her skin beneath the dress. Your touch is slow and deliberate, savoring each reaction and each sigh she gives.Karina’s hands move to your shirt, pushing it over your head as she continues to explore your body. Her touch is both tender and insistent, guiding you closer as her breathing becomes more rapid. You respond by pressing your body against hers, the heat of the moment intensifying with every kiss and touch.
Your lips find their way back to hers, and the kiss resumes with an intense, passionate rhythm. You take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, your tongues exploring in a slow, intimate rhythm. The sensation of her tongue against yours adds a new layer of pleasure, and you can feel her pulse quickening in response. 
As you both break away from the kiss, the air between you is charged with the intensity of the moment. You’re both panting slightly, your breaths coming in quick, uneven bursts as you take in the depth of what you’ve just shared. The closeness and warmth of the makeout session have left you both exhilarated and eager for more.
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Staring deep into Karina’s eyes, you could tell they were filled with passion. She leans in to place a final tender kiss on your lips, before pulling back slightly. “Let’s take this to the bedroom,” she whispers, her voice low and sultry. You nod in agreement, your heart racing as you take her hand and help her off the sofa.
Karina guides you towards the bedroom, your steps in sync as she navigates the path. Her movements are graceful as she sways those delicious hips of hers. The bed is draped with luxurious linens, adding to the sense of comfort and intimacy that permeates the room.
As you enter, Karina turns to you with a radiant smile. Her eyes are filled with desire and affection as she steps closer, gently cupping your face in her hands. You kicked the door shut behind you, your arms already wrapped around Karina’s slender waist. You pressed her against the closed door and leaned in for another kiss, this one tender and filled with promise. Her lips part slightly, allowing you to explore with a soft, lingering touch.
Karina moans, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling you closer, your bodies flush against each other. Her flowy dress hugged her curves and showed off her toned legs, and you couldn't wait to tear it off her.
You take your time undressing each other, each movement a careful exploration of the newfound intimacy between you. The process is filled with gentle touches and soft kisses, each layer of clothing falling away to reveal more of each other’s skin. The anticipation and excitement build with every touch, each moment adding to the deep connection you’re sharing. Finally, as the last piece of clothing is removed, you both stand before each other, completely exposed and vulnerable. The sensation of Karina’s warm skin against yours is electrifying, and you can feel the intensity of her desire mirrored in your own.
You broke the kiss, your breath hot on her neck as you whispered, "You look so fucking sexy, baby." Your hands roamed down her body, cupping her ass and squeezing the firm flesh. "
I've been thinking about this all night. I need to feel you around me, baby girl." Karina giggled, a mix of nerves and excitement fluttering in her stomach. 
She loved the way you called her 'baby girl' which sent shivers down her spine. "I want you too, Daddy," she murmured, her eyes closing as his fingers dug into her soft flesh. "Please, take me. I'm all yours." 
Your cock throbbed at the sound of her sultry voice calling you Daddy. You bent down, lifting her slightly as you kissed and nibbled on her neck, leaving passionate marks on her delicate skin. "You have no idea how hard I am for you, baby," you growled, grinding your erection against her. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you so good tonight."
You carried her to the bed, her hands exploring your body with each step. The softness of the linens beneath you and the warmth of her body creates a perfect setting for what is to come as you lay her on the bed. You admired the ethereal beauty before you. Your eyes are roaming over her perfect body. Her breasts were huge, full and perky, her nipples already hardening in anticipation. 
You reached out, cupping her breasts and thumbs teasing her nipples, earning a soft whimper from Karina. "Such sensitive tits, baby girl," you murmured before bending down and sucking and biting her neck again. "But I know something that's even more sensitive, don't I?"
You slipped your fingers down to her wet core. Karina was already dripping for you, her pussy lips swollen and ready. You slid two fingers inside her, pumping them in and out as your thumb found her clit. Karina moaned, her head falling back as you fingered her slowly but firmly.
"That's it, baby, let me hear how much you love it," you said, kissing her neck and sucking on the sensitive skin. "You're so fucking wet for me already." "Oh God, Daddy," Karina panted, her hips rocking with his fingers. "Right there... It feels so good. Don't stop, please." 
You added a third finger, stretching her and making her gasp. Curling your fingers, you searched for that sweet spot that would push her over the edge. "Such a good girl," you whispered, your warm breath fanning over her neck. "You're gonna cum for Daddy, aren't you?"
"Y-yes!" Karina cried out, her body tensing as the pleasure coiled tight within her. "Oh fuck, I'm close! Don't stop, Daddy, please!" You quickened his fingers, your thumb pressing firmly on her swollen clit. "That's it, baby girl, cum for me. Let it go." Karina's body shuddered as her first orgasm ripped through her. She clutched at your shoulders, crying out your name as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her pussy clenched around your fingers, her juices flowing freely as she rode out the intense climax.
You slowed your fingers, then withdrew them, bringing them to your mouth to taste her essence. "Mmm, so sweet," you said. "Now I want you to suck daddy’s cock, baby girl. I want to feel that mouth of yours wrapped around me."
Karina's eyes sparkled as she slowly dropped to her knees. She took her time, kissing and licking her way down your hard body until she reached cock. It was already thick and veiny, the tip glistening with pre-cum from how aroused you were in the make out session.
She took you in her hand, stroking the length of your shaft slowly as she admired your size. Then, locking eyes with you she leaned forward and swiped her tongue across the head, tasting the salty sweetness. "Mmm, you like that, Daddy?" she purred, wrapping her lips around the tip and sucking gently. "Fuck, baby," You groaned, your hands tangling in her hair. "Your mouth feels so fucking good. Take more of me."
Karina hummed in response, taking you deeper into her warm mouth. She bobbed her head, her lips sliding up and down your shaft as her tongue swirled and teased. She reached down, cupping your heavy balls in her hand, massaging them gently as she sucked you off eagerly.
"Shit, baby, that's it," You groaned, your hips thrusting gently, your cock sliding deeper into her mouth. "You're such a good cock sucker. You love it, don't you?" Karina hummed in agreement, her eyes never leaving yours as she took as much of your cock as she could. Before she could reach the base, she gagged slightly, unable to take it anymore, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked harder to compensate for this. 
You could feel your orgasm building, your balls tightening as she continued to pleasure you with her mouth. "I'm close, baby," you warned, your hands tightening in her hair. "Keep sucking, take my cum." Karina did as she was told, moaning softly as she felt you swell in her mouth. With a sharp cry, you exploded, your hot cum shooting down her throat. Karina swallowed, savouring the taste of you as you flooded her mouth with your release. 
She sucked you dry, milking you for every drop until you pulled away, your legs feeling weak. "That was fucking amazing, baby girl," you said, breathless. "Now I want to feel that tight pussy around my cock."
Karina stood and turned, offering her ass to you. "Take me, Daddy," she whispered, her body quivering with anticipation. "Fuck me hard." You lined up behind her, your hands grasping her soft hips. You rubbed the head of your cock up and down her slit, spreading her wetness before positioning yourself at her entrance. With one smooth thrust, you slid inside her, filling her completely.
"Oh fuck!" Karina cried out, her head falling forward as he bottomed out. "You feel so big, Daddy." You gripped her hips tightly, pulling her back onto you as he began to move. Setting a steady, deep rhythm, your cock slid in and out of her tight sheath. "You like that, baby girl?" you grunted, your eyes closed in pleasure. "My cock buried deep inside you?"
"Yes, Daddy, yes!" Karina moaned, pushing back onto you, meeting his thrusts. "It feels so good. Don't stop, please don't stop!"
You quickened his pace, your hips slapping against ass with each powerful thrust. The sound of your flesh slapping together filled the room, along with both of your moans and cries of pleasure. Karina's walls clenched around you, massaging your cock as he pounded into her.
"You're so fucking tight, baby," you groaned, your hands sliding up to grasp her shoulders. "I'm gonna cum again”
"Cum for me, Daddy," Karina urged, her voice hoarse with desire. "I want to feel you explode inside me." 
Your cock twitched within her, and with a roar, you unleashed a second load, your cum pumping into her womb. Karina cried out, her own orgasm washing over her as she clenched around your spurting cock. Both of you rode out your mutual climax as your bodies trembled with the force of their release. Spent, you eventually pulled out of her, your cock semi-erect and glistening with their combined juices. Karina turned, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction as she pulled you into a passionate kiss.
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Suddenly, the door swung open, interrupting your passionate tryst. Karina's stepmother, Irene, stood in the doorway, her eyes widening at the scene before her. Her gaze took in the naked bodies, the tangled sheets, and the evidence of your actions from her daughter’s leaking pussy. A sly smile curved her lips as she realized what was happening. "Well, well, well," she purred, her eyes glinted. "Looks like someone's having a little too much fun."
You and Karina froze, your pleasure-fogged minds jolted back to reality. Karina's face flushed with embarrassment as she realized her mother had caught them in the act. "Mom!" she exclaimed, trying to cover herself with the sheets. "What are you doing here?"
Irene sauntered into the room, her eyes never leaving you. She was a mature woman in her late 30s, but she exuded a sensuality that rivalled any young vixen. Her curves were sharp and her eyes held a wisdom that came from years of understanding the pleasures of the flesh. She had a sophisticated, elegant presence, alongside her complexion being smooth and radiant that complemented her polished style. She was dressed in a low-cut black dress that showed her deep cleavage and unmatched beauty…. 
Anybody would die to be in this household you thought to yourself. "I could ask you the same thing, Karina," she said, her tone light and playful. "But it looks like I walked in on something interesting. And I can't say I'm disappointed." Irene said with her eyes checking your entire body, landing onto your cock.
You felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with desire. The idea of being caught in the act by your girlfriend’s stepmother was unexpectedly taboo and exciting. Besides, your seed is literally still leaking from her daughter’s pussy. You glanced at Irene, taking in her seductive demeanor, she was another beauty to behold. Cheekily, you replied “I was just teaching Karina a few things, but I think there’s still a lot for her to learn.”
Karina angrily pouted at you upon hearing this. On the other hand, Irene's eyes lit up at the challenge. “Oh really? And who better to teach than a mature woman like me? I could show you a thing or two, Karina. After all, a mother always knows best."
Karina's eyes widened, a mix of shock and curiosity playing across her features. She had never thought of her mother in a sexual light, but the way Irene carried herself, the confidence in her sultry gaze, it was undeniable that she possessed a certain allure. 
Irene wasted no time in putting her plan into action, not giving Karina any time to protest. She moved towards the bed, her hips swaying seductively as she glanced at your cock, causing it to slowly revitalise itself and harden again. Your desire for this mature woman was growing by the second. 
Irene reached out and caressed your chest, her fingers trailing down your abs. "A strong, handsome, well-endowed man like you must have a lot of needs," she murmured. "Let me take care of you while teaching my daughter a lesson." 
With that, she lowered her head and took your cock into her mouth, tasting both the remanence of your cum and her daughter’s juice. The thought of that made you incredibly aroused. Karina annoyance slowly dissipated as she watched, transfixed, as her mother sucked and licked, taking you deep down her throat. You moaned, your head falling back in pleasure. 
Irene's mouth was skilled, knowing exactly how to pleasure a man. She bobbed her head, her lips sliding up and down his length. Unlike with Karina, there seemed to be no gag reflex for Irene, she can take your full length down her throat. Every time she reaches the base of your shaft, she would skilfully use her tongue to graze the underside of your balls. You did not have to guide the pace but instead just lean back into the bed and let the skilled vixen before you do the work. 
Your mind was a haze at how skilled Irene was at giving head. After a few minutes she sensed your orgasm already building up, with a loud pop, she released your cock from her mouth, which was fully glistening with spit from the sloppy head that she gave. Karina watched intently, impressed at how her mother was able to deepthroat you so effortlessly as she began to rub her clothed pussy. Irene continued her oral exploration, sucking on your balls, taking each one into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it, before alternating to the other, drenching them in spit. You were at the mercy of her skilled tongue as you gripped the bedsheets hard to prolong your orgasm from coming too early. “Such a delicious cock” Irene said. 
Then, going a little lower, she pushed both of your thighs up and towards your chest. her tongue probing your asshole. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel her hot breath on your most intimate area, and then her soft, wet, tongue traced circles around your puckered entrance. “Oh fuck” you gasp as her tongue rims you, flicking and swirling.
“Lesson number 1, Man loves it here, they are really sensitive’ Irene said glancing over to Karina
Karina gasped as she witnessed her mother licked and teased your hole, circling her tongue around it before sucking and nibbling gently. She thought it was dirty yet surprisingly hot. Despite initially feeling shy, Karina couldn't tear her eyes away, her embarrassment fading away as raw desire took over. She wanted to learn, to please her daddy the way her mother was doing, with skill and unapologetic lust. 
Her hands hold your thighs in place, leaving you open and vulnerable to her playful exploration. You feel the bed dip as she shifts her position, getting more comfortable as she eats you out. Then you feel her tongue pushes past your sphincter, filling you with an indescribable sensation as it slides into your ass. You moan loudly, your hands grasping the bedsheets as she begins to eat your ass with passion and expertise. The swirling and probing drives you wild with pleasure. 
“You taste so fucking good” Irene murmurs between licks, her warm breath washing over your sensitive skin. You can’t agree more. The feeling of her tongue probing your ass, the wet sounds of her eating you out, it’s driving you out of your mind with lust. You’ve never experienced anything like this before, and you can’t get enough. Your cock is rock hard, throbbing desperately, begging for attention. 
Irene must have sensed your need because she reaches up with one hand and wraps her fingers around your length, stroking you in time with her tongue swirls. The combination of her tongue and her hand on your cock is too much to bear, and you feel your orgasm building quickly. 
“Oh shit, I’m gonna cum!” you warn her, your breath coming in short gasps. 
“Cum for me, baby” she growls, as she continues her relentless duo treatment. Her words push you over the edge, as your cock pulses in her hand, shooting ropes after ropes of hot cum onto your stomach and chest. Irene laps at your hole for a few moments before, using her tongue to clean the cum off your stomach and chest. “Mmmm, delicious” she purrs, licking her lips.
After letting you rest awhile, Irene resumed her lesson. “Lesson number 2, you must make good use of the assets you have” Irene said while glancing over at Karina’s chest. You agreed… your girlfriend was really well-endowed, and she had one of the most mouth-watering tits in your opinion. The woman who stood before you is not far behind.
You see her nipples were hard and erect, and the valley that formed between both of her mounds was deep and inviting. You gulped, having a hint of what Irene was planning to do. Just as you expected, Irene squeezed her tits together, creating a warm, soft tunnel for your throbbing shaft. Slowly, she lowered her breasts onto your cock, engulfing you in her soft flesh. You groaned, your eyes rolling back in your head as pleasure unlike any you had felt before spiked through you. 
Irene's tits were like two pillows, the feeling of her nipples dragging teasingly along your sensitive shaft made it even better. She began to move up and down, her breasts squeezing and massaging his cock. Slowly, you feel your flacid cock springing back to life, to its full length again.  "Fuck, that feels so good," you hissed, your hips thrusting gently to meet her movements.
Irene giggled, a sexy sound that vibrated through your tits and directly to your cock. "You like these tits, don't you?" 
"Fuck yes," you growled. Lowering some spit between her mounts, she sped up her movement, turning it into a sloppy tit fuck. The sight of your shaft disappearing and appearing with each stroke, the string of saliva that connected from her chin to her tits, the visual pleasure was too much for you to handle as you sensed your orgasm approaching again. 
To add to the final blow, Irene leaned her forward, capturing your tip every time it reappeared from her valley giving them a firm suck. Irene was a skilled seductress, and she was giving you the best tit fuck of your life.  "I'm going to cum, Irene," you warned, your breath coming in short gasps. "Cum for me," she urged, squeezing her tits tighter around your cock. "Cover my tits with your hot cum." 
You couldn't hold back any longer. With a roar, you came, your cock spurting cum across Irene's tits. She gave a delighted cry as your warm seed coated her, streams of cum sliding down her cleavage, some landing on her face which she happily licked clean. "That's it, baby," she cooed, milking your sensitive cock with her tits. 
As your orgasm subsided, you leaned back, a satisfied smile on your face. Irene's tits were glazed with your cum, a sight that made your semi-hard cock twitch. "That was incredible," you murmured. “Come and clean me up dear” Irene beckoned her daughter. 
Karina, hypnotized by the sight of your cum on her mother’s porcelain skin, moved over and started lapping hungrily at the skin of Irene’s mound, ensuring every spot was clean. Maybe it was the lack of action while watching both of you or maybe secretly your girlfriend was just a cum slut who loved the taste of it. Nonetheless the erotic sight before, made your cock throb. 
“Think you have one more load for me?” Irene said, as she spread her already wet snatch, indicating where she wanted it this time. Nodding your head, Irene climbed on you and straddled you. Then, she impaled herself on your cock, her tight, wet pussy sliding down your length swallowing it in one swoop.
Karina watched, her breath quickening, as her mother rode you with expertise, her hips moving in slow, sensual circles. Irene had control like no other woman you ever had before, she was clenching her walls at just the right pressure to send you overboard. "Oh, fuck, Irene," you groaned, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Your pussy feels so good."
Irene chuckled, “You like that, huh, bet you never felt pleasure like this” 
Karina felt a mix of emotions—jealousy yet arousal at the same time. She wanted to please you the way her mother did, to make you feel that level of ecstasy. But a part of her was also aroused watching the scene unfold and also the knowledge that her own mother was a sexual goddess, capable of driving a man wild. 
Irene increased her pace, her hips moving faster, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. "That's it, take it all," she moaned. "This is how a real woman rides." You were in paradise, your cock buried in Irene's tight, experienced pussy while you watched your girlfriend aroused face, her eyes fixated on both of you. As if to taunt Karina more, Irene leaned forward and whispered to her daughter. "Your boyfriend has a delicious cock, Karina,”. "But I'll bet he's never been fucked like this before. I'm going to make him cum so hard, right inside my tight pussy." 
Karina's jealousy spiked, but it only fuelled her desire. She wanted to feel that cock inside her again, to show her mother that she could please you just as well, if not better. But for now, she had to succumb to her mother's superior skills, learning from the master. Irene's pussy clenched around your cock tighter this time as she rode you harder, her juices flowing freely. "Oh, fuck, I'm close," she moaned. "I'm gonna cum all over you” . 
Then, you felt Irene's pussy walls contract, her orgasm rippling through her body. This sent you over the edge, and with a grunt you released your load deep inside her, even though it was little compared to their first few orgasms. Irene moaned, her body shuddering as she milked your cock with her pussy, determined to extract every drop of your cum. As their orgasms subsided, Irene leaned back, a satisfied smile on her flushed face. The sheets had grown damp with your sweat and the air thick with the scent of sex.  
"Now, Karina, my love," Irene said, her voice still breathless. "Let's see if you can make him cum like that." That was the last thing you heard, before your eyes become heavy and you drifted off into sleep, having been drained.
The next day, as the morning sun shined through the curtains, you stirred from your deep sleep, having been completely drained the previous night, your mind still hazy from what happened. 
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You feel a peculiar warmth underneath the bed sheets, still groggy, you blinked and sobered yourself up before realising what that feeling was. It was a wet lip on your morning wood. You groan at this familiar feeling, before lifting the sheets to see Karina giving you head, with her stepmother Irene beside her guiding her. You wondered how long they had been at it.
“Morning sweetheart, I was just teaching Karina a few more things, let’s see if she has learnt a thing or two” Irene then grabbed Karina's hair, directing her movements as she sucked on your thick cock. Karina moaned around your shaft; her eyes filled with devotion as she followed her mother's instructions. Irene set a slow, torturous pace for you, making sure Karina took her time, savoring every inch of your hardness. As Karina bobbed her head up and down, her mouth sliding over your veiny cock, Irene would occasionally grab her hair and push down, forcing her to gag on your length, a feat Karina previously could not do. 
You let out a low groan, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as you feel your shaft pushing through the barriers of her gag reflex. The sensation of having your cock deep in your girlfriend’s inexperienced throat, her warm saliva dripping down your shaft, was almost too much to bear. But Irene wasn't done teaching her daughter. She guided Karina's by her hair to move to one side of your shaft, dragging her lips along the length of your shaft. 
Then Irene positioned herself on the opposite side of her daughter, mirroring her daughter's movement, ensuring that no spot of your cock was missing as they continuously dragged their tongue up and down your length, making you feel both pairs of warm lips on your throbbing cock. 
“Fuck.. this feels so good” You grunted. Irene continued guiding Karina to move lower, causing her tongue to trace a path along your shaft before reaching your balls. “Let’s see If you learnt anything from yesterday”. 
Upon hearing this, Karina sucked one into her mouth, massaging it with her skilled tongue, eagerly slobbering it, mimicking her mother’s movement from yesterday. At the same time, Irene moved higher, planting her lips at the tip of your cock, and in one swoop gobbled your entire length with her skilled mouth. Your hips bucked slightly at the dual stimulation, your breath coming in sharp gasps, as you feel your cock being worshipped by the pair. 
Irene looked up at you, her eyes sparkling at how much control she has over you. "Do you like this? Having two hungry mouths pleasing you at once?" She teased, her voice sultry and seductive. You could only manage a nod, your words failing you as you surrendered to their skilled mouths. 
While Karina was not as skilled with her tongue, she made it up with enthusiasm for sure. Karina eagerly lathered your balls with saliva, at times licking up a pathway to your hilt. At one point she even tried to fit both into her mouth, slurping away eagerly as she worshipped them. 
You feel the wet heat of their mouths, the slickness of their tongues, and the tightness of their lips as they work in perfect harmony. The sensation is indescribable, their mouths a wet, warm heaven, sucking and licking, mouths and throats working to please you. You begin thrust your hips gently, fucking Irene’s face, unable to control yourself as they send you spiralling towards ecstasy. 
Then being the good student Karina is, she moved lower, nuzzling your balls with her nose as her tongue snaked out to tease the sensitive skin behind them, eventually reaching your sensitive hole. Her tongue traced circles around your ass, sending shivers down his spine. She worked your hole eagerly with her tongue, rimming, sucking, licking and probing it, in her efforts to recall the lesson that her mother had taught her. 
The sensation of having your cock sucked while your ass was worshipped was overwhelming. You could feel your balls tightening as your cock throbbed. Irene must have sensed you were close, for she quickened her pace, bobbing her head more rapidly. She chuckled proudly as she saw her daughter becoming increasingly skilled. 
You warn them, your voice hoarse and rough, "I'm gonna cum, I can't hold it!" Not that you were going to hold back, the pleasure is too intense, and you could’nt wait to explode and paint their pretty faces.  Irene looks up at you, her eyes hungry, licking her lips as she says, "Fill my mouth, let me taste all of you”. 
You reach down, threading your fingers into Irene’s hair with one, and your girlfriend with another. In one swoop you shoved, both of them to press their face deeper into you — Irene into her throat and Karina into your ass. At this point you were too overwhelmed to care especially if Irene could handle the rough treatment, which of course she could.
With one final grunt, you unleash your orgasm, your cock pulsing as you fill Irene's mouth with your hot seed. She swallows greedily, moaning as your cum hits the back of her throat, her tongue lapping at you to get every drop but it was too much, and it soon began to fill her mouth, some dripping down her chin, down your shaft. Karina moved to lick and kiss your balls, lapping up at every drop that her mother missed, ensuring not a single drop was wasted.
"Delicious" Irene smiled.
As you came down from your high, Irene then cupped her daughter's chin, holding her close as she dripped a mouthful of cum into her mouth. Karina's eyes widened at the taste of you, but she soon closed her eyes in pleasure, swallowing obediently, before leaning in to exchange kisses, their tongues swirling together with the taste of your cum lingering on their tongues, enjoying the cum swapping. The sight before you made your hard again almost instantly. 
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"Now, my dear Karina, it's time for lesson number 2, do you remember what it is?" Irene grinned. Karina nodded. Karina positioned herself on your side once again and squeezed her large breasts together, creating a channel between them for your cock. She was more definitely more well-endowed than Irene in this area. Irene was not far behind, squeezing her own luscious breast together. Together, the two women guided your cock between their breasts, the soft flesh enveloping your sensitive shaft. 
You groaned, your head falling back as pleasure spiked through you. The feeling of two sets of tits squeezing and massaging your cock was indescribable. The duo moved in sync, their tits gliding up and down your shaft.
Karina whimpered softly, the sensation of having her mother's breasts pressed against her and at times her hard nipple would glaze across her own, which only added to her arousal. "That's it, baby, fuck our tits” Irene chuckled at how much control they had over you. 
Karina giggled at the sight too. "You like our tits, don't you?”
“Fuck yes” You growled as you held their shoulders and begin to thrust your hips gently driving your shaft between the two valleys before you. Irene looked to Karina and whispered in her ear, guiding her once more. 
"Use your tongue, Karina. Lick the head as it appears between our tits." Obediently, Karina extended her tongue, lapping at the engorged head of your cock each time it emerged from their cleavage. She swirled her tongue around the tip, tasting the mixture of her saliva and his pre-cum. They continued their sensual tit-fuck, the soft flesh of their breasts providing the perfect amount of stimulation. He sped up your thrusting, sliding your cock between their tits, the pleasure you felt was indescribable. Sensing your orgasm approaching, they stopped their relentless assault. 
“There are holes for you to fill” Irene said while reaching over to spread her daughter’s hole. Staring at her pretty pussy made you spring into action. You wasted no time in taking control. You positioned Karina on all fours with her ass raised invitingly, her pussy already glistening with her juices. She arches her back further, her curves seducing you to take her harder. “Fuck me Daddy”. 
You lined up your throbbing cock with her entrance, teasing her by dragging the tip through her slit, making her whimper. With a sharp thrust, you buried the entire shaft deep inside her, eliciting a moan of pleasure from Karina. The warmth of her pussy envelops you instantly. “Fuck baby, you are so tight”. 
Irene, ever the eager participant, refused to be left out and crawled beneath her daughter. As You began to set a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of Karina's tight pussy, Irene lapped at her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her body. Whenever your shaft slid out, Irene would take the opportunity to lick and suck on it, tasting her daughter's juices, before guiding it back into Karina's waiting hole. At one point, you were alternating between Irene's warm mouth and Karina’s cunt, giving each equal attention, switching after a few thrusts. 
You could tell Irene was incredibly aroused in this position when she slipped her hand between her thighs and rubbed her folds. The room echoed with the lewd sounds of sex—the wet slapping of flesh, the moans and gasps of pleasure, and the occasional smack as you spanked your girlfriend’s ass, watching it bounce with each thrust.
Karina's body trembled as an orgasm built within her, her mother's tongue working relentlessly. Sensing your girlfriend’s orgasm through the tightening of her walls, you quicken your pace, thrusting deeper and harder into her. “Cum for us babygirl”. 
Understanding the message, Irene bit down on Karina’s swollen nub, sending her into overdrive, convulsing as waves or orgasm swept through her. As Karina cried out, her body shaking through her orgasm, you pulled out, your cock glistening and slick. Irene, ever eager for more, pounced, taking your shaft in her mouth and sucking greedily, tasting her daughter's juices mixed with your pre-cum. 
You moaned, enjoying the sensations of her mouth, before pulling her up for a passionate kiss, your tongues tangling as both of you shared Karina's sweet essence. Irene and you took a moment to admire Karina's satiated body, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction, but there was more pleasure to come. 
You smiled at Irene, with your lustful eyes, you wanted her again. You gestured to the bed, and Irene laid herself down, spreading her legs wide, her mature pussy exposed and glistening. You positioned yourself between Irene’s legs, teasing her by rubbing the head of your cock along her swollen pussy lips. She whimpered, bucking her hips slightly, desperate to feel him inside her. “Come and fuck me hard” she demanded with a certain dominance.
“Oh, I will, you desperate slut” With a swift thrust, you penetrated her, filling her tight pussy again with your throbbing cock. Irene moaned loudly, her head throwing back as she savoured the sensation of being stretched and filled. "Oh, yes! Fuck me like that”
You could tell it has been years since she had her sexual needs fulfilled. Maybe it was because she was a single mom for a long time you guessed. You set a steady rhythm pounding Irene’s wanting hole with deep and ferocious thrust. “Come here baby, let mommy teach you how to eat a pussy.” Irene beckoned her daughter with a finger.  
Karina, still catching her breath, smiled deviously as she crawled onto the bed, hovering over her mother. Then she lowered herself onto her mother's face, presenting her pussy for Irene's eager mouth. They locked eyes as they began to move in sync with your thrust. Irene ate her daughter out with expertise, her tongue and fingers working in unison as she licked and sucked on Karina's clit, never breaking eye contact. "Oh, Mom! Suck my clit! Oh, that feels so fucking good!" Karina cried out, her eyes rolling back as she felt her mother's tongue bringing her more pleasure. 
Meanwhile, you continued pounding Irene's wet cunt, as her walls massaged your shaft with expertise. You reached forward, grasping Irene’s hips for more stability, and pulled her onto your cock, impaling her on your length.  The three of you found a rhythm, a symphony of sex. You fucked Irene, who ate out Karina, who rode her mother's face. Moans and cries filled the room as they each pursued their own pleasure. Karina's juices flowed freely, drenching Irene's face, as Irene’s own pussy clenched around your cock, milking you for all your worth. 
As you felt your orgasm approaching, you quickened his pace, thrusting deep into Irene's greedy cunt. “Fuck I’m cumming” You groaned. “Let us cum all cum together” Irene said in her sultry voice before diving her tongue back in swirling her tongue around Karina’s sensitive folds driving her over the edge. Karina, chasing her orgasm began to also grind her pussy against Irene’s mouth, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her body, and she reached down to massage her own breasts, pinching her nipples and tugging on them. 
Within a few moments, she cried out, her body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed through her, her juice flowed into Irene’s mouth, who swallowed eagerly, revelling in the taste of her daughter. Simultaneously, you hit your peak, your body tensing as you emptied your load deep into Irene’s pussy. Irene moans, feeling the warm cum filling her up. Irene's eyes shone with lust and satisfaction as she watched her daughter ride the waves of pleasure, all while feeling her own pussy stretched around your shaft. The addition of the warm spurts in her, sent her to the edge, clenching around your shaft, milking every drop of cum out of you.  
She looked up at Karina, her face shiny with her daughter's essence, and beckoned her down for a kiss. Karina dismounted, and leaned down capturing Irene’s lips, their tongues swirled, tasting the sweet lips of each other. As they kissed, you slid out of Irene's pussy, your cock spent, and watched as your cum dripped out of her, pooling on the bed beneath her. 
Irene broke the kiss, and reached down, smearing the cum on her fingers, and held it to Karina's mouth. Karina opened wide, sucking her mother's fingers clean, moaning softly as she did so, tasting the mixture of fluid. “Come clean mommy up , baby girl” 
Obediently, Karina, never one to waste a drop , immediately crawled between Irene’s leg, her mouth seeking out her cum-filled hole. She kissed and licked Irene's sensitive pussy, cleaning up every last bit of your sticky offering. "Mmm, you taste so good, mommy," Karina murmured, her lips brushing against Irene’s swollen pussy lips. "Your pussy is so sweet, and Y/N cum is so delicious. I could eat you both up all day."
Irene giggled with satisfaction and pride, her body still recovering from the orgasm. “Alright time to clean up, I have some errands to run, before I can teach both of you more lessons”.
"Mom, you're insatiable. But I love it." Karina chuckled back. This had been a whirlwind of pleasure for you, and you collapsed back onto the bed, a satisfied silence filled the room as three of you recovered from your post-orgasm bliss. Shortly after Irene left to wash up and run her daily errands. 
You gazed intently into Karina’s eyes, her disheveled hair plastered to her forehead after the session. Gently stroking her cheek, you stirred her from a short nap, causing her to blink awake and meet your gaze. “Want to join me for a shower?” you asked softly. “Daddy’s so naughty” She cheekily giggled before you led the way hopping into the shower room to wash up together. The session continued in the shower with both of you exploring and enjoying each other more alone.
After drying off, you both head to the dining room, where the smell of breakfast wafts through the air. Karina’s stepmom, Irene, has left for errands, telling you to enjoy breakfast and that she’ll see you both later. The dining table is set with a mouthwatering spread of pancakes, crispy bacon, fresh fruit and a glass of orange juice set for both of you. You both take a moment to appreciate the spread before you. 
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Despite her wild side in bed, she knows how to take care of both of you even outside the bedroom. “Damn, you’ve got a lot to learn from your mom” You teased Karina, causing her to pout jealousy. “Unfair, you even gave most of your load to her, instead of your pretty babygirl!” 
You noticed Karina’s pout and immediately softened your tone. “Hey, don’t be like that,” you said, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You know I love you the most.” You smiled reassuringly. “Even you got to admit your mom’s irresistible in bed , but that doesn’t change how much you mean to me. You’re my number one, always.” 
Karina’s frown slowly faded as she looked at you with a cute affection. “Really? You promise?” she asked. 
“Absolutely,” you assured her, pulling her into a warm hug. “I would do anything for you!” 
“Anything” she mischievously asked. Innocently, you nodded your head. “Well, don’t you think it is only right we return the favour to mom?” Karina asked.
“Oh? That sounds interesting, care to explain what my babygirl means?” You smiled, intrigued at her suggestive comments, eager to hear the details of her cheeky plan. Karina leaned in and whispered her cheeky plan into you. “Damn you are so naughty babygirl… but I like it” 
“Oh, please daddy is as bad as me, look at how hard are you from hearing the plan” Karina says while pointing to your hard shaft straining at the boxers. Well, we all know what’s for desserts, before she pulls down your boxers revealing your already hard cock and devoured it for her morning breakfast. 
As the day continued, you and Karina busied yourselves in the kitchen, preparing a special dinner for Irene as well as for your plan to kick in. You both put a lot of effort into making it perfect—carefully choosing ingredients, setting the table, and drinks to make it a memorable meal… well you were sure it was going to be memorable anyways.
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When Irene finally came home, she saw the spread and was delighted. “What’s the occasion?” “Oh, there’s no special occasion, really. We just wanted to do something nice for you and show our appreciation for how good you have taken care of us. We thought you deserved a little treat.” You winked at the double meaning in your sentences. Irene’s eyes softened, clearly touched by the sentiment. “That’s so sweet of you both,”  
Irene tasted the food, and she was visibly delighted. The flavors were just right, and her enjoyment was evident. As the evening wore on with a few more glasses of wine and chatter, you noticed a change in her demeanour. She seemed unusually flustered and slightly flushed, fidgeting around in her seat as you noticed her rubbing her thighs together. 
You exchanged a glance with Karina, and she gave a slight nod knowing things were working. Inside the food, both of you had added aphrodisiac to heightened Irene’s arousal without her knowing. "Hey, mom, is everything okay?" Karina asked, faking innocence. Irene looked at the both of you with a tinge of embarrassment before offering a sheepish smile. "Oh, it’s nothing, really," she said, a bit flustered. “I’m feeling a bit worn out from today, so I think I’ll head for a shower and get to bed early.” 
“Oh please take care aunty, we will clean this up” You assured her, as she made her way upstairs to her bedroom.
You and Karina chuckled and quickly cleaned up the dining mess before sneakily tiptoeing to her mother’s room and hiding quietly for phase 2 of your plan. As Irene stepped out of the shower with just a towel covering her body, Karina sprang into action, surprising Irene as she shoved her onto her back, the towel spilling open revealing her full glory. Physically , Karina was taller and stronger , she wrestled the still surprised Irene straddling her and grabbing her wrist, before a sharp click was heard. She had successfully secured both of Irene’s wrist to the bed frame. 
“Karina? What…” Her voice trailed off as she slowly realized her predicament. “Shh” She placed a finger on Irene’s lips, shushing her. “You have taught us many things. Today we are going to teach you a lesson… a lesson in patience, and you are going to learn that the sweetest thing always requires waiting.” 
“You are going to watch as I pleasure my babygirl right here in front of you” You added. Irene's eyes widened as she strained against the handcuffs. “You wouldn’t dare!” she protested. 
“Oh I will” “and we are going to make you beg for your release” With that you secured both of her feet to the foot of bed frame to ensure that her legs were spread. Then you began to strip, revealing your toned body and the thick, 7-inch cock that was already stiff. Irene's eyes locked onto your dick, her mouth watering, the stimulant through the food makes her pussy throb with excitement. She however refuses to let her pride down and pretends she is disinterested. “Let me out” She snapped. 
In the meantime, Karina had headed over to the laundry basket in the corner of the room, picking up the fresh black thongs that were just worn by Irene. “Damn, mom, this is drenched, you must have loved the food so much” Karina said while striding over back to the bed frame. At that moment Irene realised the whole setup was planned since the dinner. “What did you put in the food!?” 
“Just a little stimulant for you” Karina chuckled before using two fingers to push the wet spot of the thong out and lowering it to Irene’s nose let her inhale her aroused scent. “Look at how naughty you smell mom” 
“Stop it. Let me…..” Before Irene could protest any further, Karina stuffed the thong into her mouth forcing her to taste herself, silencing any further noise.” “MMMM” You see Irene struggling against the restraints, her protest muffled. “You wouldn’t be needing that mouth unless you want to beg!” Karina glinted before positioning herself between Irene’s thighs, blowing lightly unto Irene’s mounds. Her folds were already glistening from arousal, and the breath sent more electricity onto her throbbing cunt.
Both of you were going to edge her continuously, teaching her the value of patience until you finally gave her her release.  "We're going to take good care of you, Irene," "But first, you are going to watch. I want you to see how much your daughter enjoys my touch." With that, you turn your attention to Karina. 
You turned her around and pulled her towards you, crushing your lips to hers in a passionate kiss. Your hands roam her body, sliding under her top to grasp her perky breasts. She moans into your mouth, her hands tugging at your shirt. Breaking the kiss, you trail your lips down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. Your hands find the waist of her shorts, tugging them down to reveal her smooth, bare pussy. She's already wet for you, her juices glistening. She too was turned on at the success of her plans and having the beautiful experience Irene at both of your mercy. 
You kneel before her, your tongue snaking out to taste her. She tastes of the sweest honey, and you moan as you feast on her pussy. Your tongue flicks her clit, circling it before sucking it gently between your lips. Karina bucks her hips, her hands tangling in your hair as she cries out. She was more aroused than usual. Irene watches, transfixed, her breath coming in short gasps, she tries her best to rub against the bedsheet to gain whatever sort of friction she could, while still trying to maintain her image and pride. 
You can see the yearning in her eyes, but you're not done with Karina yet. Sliding two fingers into her soaked pussy, you curl them, searching for that sweet spot that will send her over the edge.  
"Oh, fuck, yes!" Karina cries out, her body tensing. "Right there, daddy. Don't stop!" 
You added a third finger, stretching her, as you suck her clit harder. Her thighs tremble as you bring her closer and closer to the edge. Her breath comes in short, sharp gasps, and her juices flow freely over your hand. "Look at me, Mom," Karina pants, her eyes screwed shut in pleasure. "Watch me cum for Daddy." 
Sensing her orgasm, you positioned Karina to hover over Irene's face as you increased your thrusting. Irene's eyes snap open, fixed on her daughter's heaving chest and the erotic sight of your fingers plunging in and out of her pussy. Karina's body bucks wildly, and her juices gush over your hand as she cries out in bliss, a gush of squirting splashing Irene’s face, soaking it.
As Karina's orgasm subsides, you stand, your eyes locking with Irene's. You can see the pure lust in her gaze now, and a hint of pleading. She wants this. Karina bends down, removing the fabric from her mouth and wiping Irene’s face with it. “Ready to beg now?”
“Please….” She whimpered, tugging at the handcuffs. 
“Please what?”
 “Please, touch me, I need that cock” 
“Where do you want it?” 
Irene hesitated, a certain uncertainty in her eyes, but the need is stronger at this point. “In my dirty cunt”
“Call him Daddy” Karina whispers, her hot breath in Irene’s ear. Irene’s eyes fly open, and she glares at Karina, refusing to submit. 
“Fuc……” Before she could finish, the soaked fabric was once again stuffed in her mouth, this time a mix of Karina’s juice could be tasted. “Well then you won’t be needing this mouth again” Watching your girlfriend's dominant side was certainly a sight to behold. 
“Watch closely as I fuck your daughter, and you’re going to love every second of it” You added. 
You led Karina once again to position between Irene’s spread legs at a diagonal so Irene could see the full picture. Karina’s hands rested on the bed, supporting her as she presented her glistening pussy to you. Then, positioning yourself behind her, you grasped her hips firmly, pulling her back unto your cock, as you thrust into her. Irene's eyes started intently at the raw desire between both of you. "Oh, baby, you're so wet for me, does being in this position turns you on this much" Karina just nodded in reply, too busy enjoying the pleasure of your shaft plunging into her warmth. 
Irene's mouth went dry as she watched your thick, veiny cock glide effortlessly into Karina's welcoming warmth. Karina gasped as you filled her, her body trembling with pleasure. You set a relentless pace, pounding into her with deep, powerful thrusts, making sure each sloppy thrust could be heard by Irene. "Oh, yes... fuck me... harder," Karina panted. 
Irene couldn't tear her eyes away from the erotic spectacle. She felt her own pussy growing wetter as she witnessed the erotic scene before her. Then using one of your hands, you pushed Karina’s head forward, unto Irene’s core. “Taste that sweet pussy while I fuck you” Karina complies, her tongue swirling around Irene's clit as you continue to pound into her from behind. The sight before you is enough to drive you wild—two beautiful women, their bodies entwined, working in harmony to pleasure you and each other. Irene gasped as Karina's warm, wet tongue swirled over her sensitive clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body, she was finally getting some attention and relief on her throbbing mound. Karina's skilled mouth teased and tormented her, licking and sucking her folds, driving her wild. 
Karina's fingers joined her tongue, sliding effortlessly into Irene's dripping pussy. She curled her digits, plunging it deeper, but just as Irene's hips bucked with the promise of release, Karina withdrew her hand, denying her the climax. “MMM” Though her voice was muffled, you and Karina understood her protest. “Not yet, you will cum when you are ready to call him daddy and beg”. You could see Irene’s body arching off the bed, trying to fuck herself into Karina’s hand, but the cuffs restricted her.
Karina waited a few moments before she resumed her sensual assault on Irene's pussy, her fingers delving deep, her tongue flicking Irene's clit with expert precision. Irene's body trembled, her wrists straining against the handcuffs as she fought the overwhelming need to climax. Each time she was about to climax, Karina would deny her time and time again. 
You could see her resistance crumbling each time she is denied of her orgasm until finally she mustered all her strength and spat out her gag, screaming “Please Daddy, I..I can’t hold on much longer, let me cum”
You and Karina, grinned , having your goal finally achieved. “Shall we let her cum?” Karina turned and looked at you while you were still pounding away. “Cum for us Irene!’’ you demanded “Let us see how you lose control” 
Karina sensing her orgasm reached forward and pinched Irene’s nipple, tugging it hard, while thrusting her finger at an incredible speed. That was all it took. Irene's body arched off the bed, her back bowing as she cried out, her orgasm washing over her in powerful waves. Her pussy clenched around Karina's fingers, and as if a dam had broken, she squirted in spurts uncontrollably, some even landing on you. 
The sight before you drove both of you crazy. Karina’s body tightened around you, her pussy pulsating around your cock as she climaxed as well. You continue a few more thrust into Karina before you reach your own climax. With a final, powerful stroke, you plunged deep in, your cock pulsating as you filled her with your hot cum. 
“It is your turn to clean my pussy mom” Karina mounted Irene again, rubbing her cum-filled cunt unto Irene’s face. At this point Irene had caved, no longer resisting, she stuck her tongue deep into the folds and lapped eagerly, eating your cum directly out of Karina’s pussy and cleaning it completely. You could tell she was incredibly aroused from this, as her core was leaking, soaking the sheets below her. “Please… I need more.” The aphrodisiac was clearly doing wonders and making Irene lose her mind. 
“What do you need?” You teased knowing clearly what she wanted. 
“Need your cock in me.. please” 
“Please who?” 
“Please Daddy, fuck me, use me, fill me” You smiled, as if the first begging was not enough, this served as a confirmation that you have successfully mindbroken her at this point, into just a vessel chasing pleasure. 
You lean down, your tongue extending to lick a broad stripe up her pussy, your palms digging into her thighs and you force her legs wide open. You see a tinge of disappointment through her eyes, that it was your tongue not your cock on her. “Please I need your cock”.
“Patience, girl”. You dived back in, your tongue delving deep into her wetness, tasting her sweet nectar fully. You eagerly feasted on her, your tongue lapping at her leaking juices, circling her clit and sucking them gently between your lips. She tasted so fucking delicious. Her moans fill the room, and she bucks her hips into your mouths, longing for more friction and stimulation, chasing her relief. Karina watches, a satisfied smile on her face. She moves behind her mother, crawling beside you, and slips a pillow under Irene. 
“Mom, do you know what lesson number 1 is?” Irene’s eyes immediately widened at her suggestion. “I bet you are as sensitive as you say men usually are here” Karina says while circling her backdoor, pressing her thumb against Irene’s asshole, confirming what she meant. 
Before Irene could respond, Karina got under you, pulled Irene's ass cheeks apart and buried her face in the crack of her ass, her tongue probing the tight rosebud. Irene gasped at the sensation, her body tingling as two tongues danced across her most sensitive spots.
"FFFFUCC---"
“So delicious, so sensitive here” Karina murmured. 
You could tell Irene was in heaven from how she was squirming with the duo stimulation. Perhaps it was the fact she was more sensitive in her backdoor that her glistening pussy became an even wetter mess. Not that you would mind, she tasted so delicious as you kept lapping up her never ending fountain of juice. 
You plunged two fingers into her soaking pussy and curling them to find the G-spot. Meanwhile Karina simultaneously pressed a finger on the rosebud, trying to gain entry to her sacred hole. Irene’s leaking juice served as the perfect lubricant , however when she felt the pressure on her tight orifice , she reflexively clenched both holes, tightening her walls around your fingers, while denying access to Karina’s fingers.
Suddenly, a loud slap echoed through the room, as you see a red handprint slowly formed on Irene’s pale skin; Karina had delivered a hard spank.  “Relax mom, you are going to love this” Irene began to ease her muscles , allowing the finger to break past the tight ring, entering her sacred ass, stretching and stimulating her. 
The moment the finger was fully in , Irene shatters, her body convulsing as a powerful orgasm rips through her. She cries out, her voice filling the room as her juices gush over your hand. Her body shakes uncontrollably, her breaths heavy from the intensity of the orgasm.
“Wait a minute, you are an anal virgin?” Karina gasped with shock in her face, the walls squeezing around her fingers with tons of resistance, as if foreign to the experience made Karina ponder on this. 
“My , my, looks like this mature vixen , have some experience she is not good at” Irene closed her eyes, her face red from embarrassment at the cat out of the bag. You give her a moment to recover, her body still twitching with aftershocks. Then, you position yourself at her entrance, rubbing the head of your cock along her holds, before slapping it against her clit.
“Fuck me, please, daddy fuck me now”
You were not going to deny her further now that she has complied. You thrust into her, filling her with your length. She's so tight, her heat enclosing you, and you groan with pleasure. You start to move, slowly at first, withdrawing almost entirely before plunging back into her. 
Meanwhile, Karina had slipped a second finger to Irene’s ass, scissoring and stretching her as if preparing her for what was to come. Irene felt tighter than usual , her pussy was squeezing so hard on your shaft, and you figured that your baby girl must have been doing a stellar job. You continued to slide in and out of her sloppy pussy in a steady rhythm, reaching down to  capture one of tits into your mouth, sucking it roughly. You could feel Karina’s fingers through the thin walls that separated Irene’s holes, which further added to your pleasure. 
Suddenly, Karina's fingers leave Irene's ass, leaving a gaping hole that twitches with desire. She quickly makes her way to the wardrobe, opening it quietly as if not to disturb the intense pleasure you're delivering to Irene. As Karina rummages through the wardrobe, you keep pounding Irene's pussy, your pace relentless. 
As Karina reappears, you notice what she is holding in her hand, a rather massive dildo . The dildo is slightly smaller than your cock, and you can't help but wonder how it will feel to watch it disappear into Irene's ass. Irene was too focused on you fucking her, that she did not notice what was in stall for her. 
With a devilish grin, Karina presses the tip of the dildo against Irene's pink hole. You see Irene's eyes widen as she realizes what Karina is up to. “Wai—” Before Irene could finish her sentence, Karina sank the toy into Irene’s tight hole, slowly inching it bit by bit, trying to get it to be buried to the hilt. 
“FUUUCKKKKK” Irene screamed, her body shaking as she experienced a rush of sensation unlike anything she'd felt before. The fullness, the stretch, it was almost too much, and yet it sent her careening toward the edge of ecstasy. You can't take your eyes off the sight before you. Karina grips the dildo firmly, thrusting it in and out of Irene's ass with increasing speed and force. Irene's ass cheeks jiggle with each penetration, and you can see the dildo stretching her hole, making it gape. You resumed your motion, fucking Irene’s pussy and ass in unison with Karina. Irene was in ecstasy, her eyes rolling back as she gets double-penetrated by you and the dildo. 
"You like that, you dirty milf? You love being filled by my cock and a dildo in your ass?” 
Irene can only manage a nod with the pleasure she was receiving. 
"You're our little slut, aren't you, Irene? Taking it from both ends like the good girl you are."
As you continue to fuck her pussy, you feel your balls tightening. The sight of Karina pounding Irene’s ass with the dildo and the fact that it was making her already tight pussy even tighter was pushing you closer to the edge. You know you’re not going to last much longer.
Irene was the first to hit her peak, spiralling out of control as her body was possessed by the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced. “I’m cumming!” She screamed, her body convulsing violently. Her ass clenched around the dildo, milking it as if it were a real cock. Her pussy contracted snuggly around your shaft, squeezing you tighter. 
"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna cum," you groan, your body tensing.
"Yes, Daddy, cum inside me, let me feel your warm cum again" Irene moans, her body moving frantically beneath you.
Before you could explode into her, Karina pulled out your cock and deepthroated you down to your base, her nose pressing into your stomach. Your cock pulsed as you filled her throat with your hot seed, your breath ragged. Irene whined at the absence and having your seed stolen from her.
“You have had enough of his load for the past 2 days, this belongs to me” Karina says and she wipes the remaining droplets of cum on her chin before sucking her fingers dry. 
“You can have this instead” Karina pulls the dildo out of Irene's ass with a wet, sucking sound before roughly shoving the toy into Irene's mouth, making her taste her own ass. Irene's eyes widen in surprise, but she obediently sucks on the dildo, her tongue swirling around it. 
You both moved to stand beside the bed, chest heaving, and watch Irene lying satisfied, her body spent and sated. She’s been thoroughly pleasured, and you and your girlfriend know you’ve given her a lesson and experience she’ll never forget. You exchange a satisfied glance with Karina having completed your mission. Uncuffing her, you softly rubbed her reddened wrist and exhausted all of you crashed onto the bed. 
The moment Irene was free, you see her eyes darken, revealing a certain determination. “I am not done with the both of you.” 
“Uh Oh…” You looked over to Karina seeking some sort of sort but instead found a mirrored look of apprehension. You both were fucked literally and figurately and you did not know why you had agree to this plan. This was going to be one hell of a long night for the both of you.
It was 7.30 am, you had phased in and out of sleep the whole night with Irene constantly  fucking you, not giving you a single second of rest.  “Cum for me again” You opened your eyes, seeing Irene riding your shaft vigorously , your dick lodged deeply inside her tight ass this time. To be frank , your dick hurts at this point and you felt dumb for giving an already insatiable slut , aphrodisiac, and as if that was not bad enough, to taunt into submitting to the both of you. 
You were forced to give one more orgasm, this time barely anything came out, you were utterly spent. 10, 15 , 20? You do not even remember how many times you were made to cum, nothing was coming out at this point. Your girlfriend was not any better, her hands were handcuffed above her, and you see not one but two dildos deep inside both of her holes. Her body was lifeless at this point. Irene was definitely one to return the favor , and double it literally.
The door swung open suddenly. 
“Kar…….WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON” 
Yeji has just reached home from her trip and the sight before her left her bewildered, as she eyes Irene down, bouncing up and down your shaft. This was definitely a dejavu moment for you.
“Care to join?” Irene smirked.
“You guys are fucking crazy” Yeji started intently for a moment clearly aroused , her face flushed, before she slammed the door.  You swear you could tell that Yeji's stared longer than usual as if she was actually considering Irene's offer.
“why the fuck did I introduce them together” you hear Yeji stomping away while complaining about her regrets of bringing you and Karina together. Little did any of you know, Yeji might very well be heading to her room to enjoy some personal time with the scene that unfolded before her. 
Irene quickened her pace, unfazed by what happened and it was not long before another painful orgasm was forced out of you. With that last orgasm, Irene finally left to take a shower and continue with her day. You were so relieved that it was finally over and you could rest. Leaning closer to Karina, you kissed her forehead. “You’re crazy for this,” you said with a smile. “You love crazy,” she replied back. Karina nuzzled into you, and both of you settled in to catch some much-needed rest, too tired to even bother removing her handcuffs.
Ending notes
As always leave comments, suggestions , and request as per the masterlist requirements! If you like to commission a piece do drop me a pm! Hope you guys enjoy this. I left the ending open might do a part 2 but not confirmed. Am working on sex swinger cruise part 2 which will be out at the end of the month! (Hopefully) once again thank you for my first 1k notes and 1k followers (1.1k now actully) Deeply appreciate this community.
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