#these two are too cute expect more | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 2 months ago

Text

TRACKSTAR?!

Synopsis. He’s not running a marathon with you, he’s fúcking one.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, MARATHONS, overstím, creampíes, cúmflation, dúmbifícation, making them whímper, cervíx kíssing, breaking the bed, ínnapropríate use of powers, pússydrúnk men, true form Sukuna, dp, bréeding, p talking, they’re FÉRAL, manhandIing, BÚLGES, spítting, cúmplay, L bómbs, boss!Higuruma, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week!!

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 5 rounds

“C’mooon- only round five n’ you’re already this gone, mama?” Toji departs a breathy whistle from his scarred lips, jaded eyes rolling in time with your cute whimpers.

And you’re just trembling underneath him - your legs turned into complete mush and your eyes permanently homed all the way in the back of your head. A big fat wad of creamy white drips out from your sensitive slit and makes you groan– “As if you’re any hck! better.”

Grumbling gruffly, “Huh? S’that backtalk, doll?”

“M-maybe…”

Well- what else could he have expected after completely breaking your rickety bedframe, two desks, and damn near the floor you were drooling all over.

Toji’s plush pecs grinding firmly against your shoulder, scorching skin-against-skin as one beefy arm loops underneath to keep you arched. The other patting that inflationary, throbbing lil’ bulge rested inside your tummy with a leer, “Because all she’s tellin’ me s’that you’re gonna take this next round like a champ.”

Next.

A marathon - fuck, a marathon.

So many rounds upon countless rounds and he was still aching for more - the fat n’ girthy shaft of his painful cock drip-drip-dripping with even more sappy precum. Flooding your sheeny entrance as if he was slobbering, the cutting edge of his mushroom tip swirls around your milked entrance to open you up further.

“Yeah…” Toji drawls under his breath, low. Pinkish tongue flicking out at the pretty, pretty vision of your ruined pussy– “Tellin’ me she’s gonna t-take it alright.”

And if he stuttered, if his voice broke then you don’t notice - because soon enough your brain melts into nothingness as he traces your teary slit with a harsh jab of his crowned head. Dribbling veering into straight-up bawling from between your legs.

Your head lolls back stupidly, striking the plane of his sharp collarbone. Hands scrambling for anything on the floor right about now, “Oh- oh, please. Toooji–!”

“What, huh? S’that pretty lil’ ngh- head scrambled already?” A hoarse snicker breezes out from above you, in unison with the splintered creeeak! that resonates out once one of his clammy palms press up against the nearby wall.

No- you want to say.

But the only thing that spills out of your spit-glued lips is a few whimpering wails of Toji’s name, your knees weakening as he keeps rutting his bludgeoning cock deeper and deeper.

Fucking you like an animal. He was so big that you could feel his pounding veins scrape every inch of your insides, lightning bolts rubbing up against your snug walls in a way that was so sensual. Zig-zagging across your gooey pussy as your bottom lip catches on your teeth. “Harder h-harder.”

So dizzy that you felt like collapsing-

“Whoops- upsy daisy.” Before you can even blink your tear-stuck lashes, Toji cradles your neck with his bulging bicep. In exactly the lecherous way that makes your mouth spill over with a splash of excited slobber, seeping right down his toned arm. “Tch, made a mess too.”

Manhandling you like you’re boneless, you’re pressed up against every rippling muscle. Every glissading ab, a hot trickle of sweat drips down from Toji’s temple.

“Please- nghhh please, it feels t-too good–”

“Too good, huh?” And you already know he’s rolling his eyes lazily. Grouching out, “M’not even all the way hah- inside this cute lil’ pussy. So tight s’like she’s gonna fuuuuuck- break.”

The image made you want to squirm, held down by the briefest, barest flex of his arms. Knocking out every ounce of wheezed air stuffed inside your lungs, Toji gazes down at you when you moan and sneers.

“And look at that- she’s still throbbing.” His free hand’s flicking over your relentless tummy bulge until ivory cum splatters down your shivering thighs. “Lettin’ out a damn hngh- fountain, too.” Skin glued together with the mess he’d made inside– and somewhere far off in the distance, your eardrums register a sharp snap!

Because Toji Fushiguro was out of control. Out of his mind.

Sharp tendrils of his inhuman power breaking every piece of furniture inside of your heady bedroom, and making his slender hips rut with a sharp spank! It echoes, the sound.

Clap after clap after clap where he’s cluttering your velvety dripping insides with that fattened circumference, gooping out splashing wads of precum that skids right on over to the target of your tummy bulge. Inflating you up even more.

“Tight fuckin’ th-thing–” He’s gasping into the crook of your neck, eyes ogling down at the globular bump through his shaggy Stygian bangs. So sensitive. So tender, the underside of his cock was flinching with every slip n’ slide deeper. Wincing at your saturated clench, “-fit- fit- fit, goddammit.”

Shit- he’d plugged you so full with glutinous bucketloads of cum that every snagging buck pulled your walls so taut.

Struggling to even fit, he’s rovering his thick fingertips over to that invisible line he was jackhammering inside you and pushing. Hard. Snickering to himself as your pussy torrents out a milky flood with a splurch!

You think you might be cumming - you think you don’t even realize as your vision of the wall splinters with splotches of pure white. Clawing down his sweat-simmered skin, your throat tastes rusty with a strained moan of “T-Tooooji—!”

“Yeah- yeah yeah, doll. Scream f’me. Even she’s louder than you.” Smoothing over the doughy patch of his palm on top of your glittery pussymound. His words carry out over the vulgar paps of flesh, stinging your mounds. And even the scratchy gliiiide of Toji’s tufted happy trail leaves your skin all tender, “Scream- scream, because…”

And then there’s a sudden crack!

Thundering across your ears; you’d have thought that your poor bedroom floor would be the last thing that even Toji wouldn’t be able to break. You’d have thought you were safe down here.

But his hand plants away from the wall, a crumbling handprint embedded deep into the plaster. Oh.

That very same one patting your womb - with both his calloused fingers outside your tummy, and the ruby-red cockhead on his vast shaft. Bottoming out until he was shoveled balls-deep, he shivers. Primally, “-because this next one’s gonna be a biiiig one, mama.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 8 rounds

“I want to be your…cumdump, Kento.”

That was what had started it - that was exactly what had broken whatever was left of Nanami Kento’s sanity until he’d bent you over and taken you in the lewdest, rawest mating press right then n’ there on your marble kitchen counter.

His thick, frigid wedding ring roams between your swollen pussy folds, peaking right between those slippery edges to watch the way your pretty face twists into a whine. “Are- are you hah! alright? If you can’t, darling-”

“No no- I want it, Ken–” Your words huff into a pout almost as much as your delicious lips were, and Nanami finds himself leaning in to smear a laaaazy peck. “-want you to fuck me rough- again, please?”

“Aww, my love…an eighth round? S’gonna be a biiig stretch, y’know?” And for a second you think he simply won’t agree, for a second you think he’ll simply kiss you dizzy and make slow, sensual love to you.

But, no.

No- what your husband does next is sternly loosen the yellow speckled tie still stuck to his perspired neck, cording it tightly around your own. A sinful little loop that pulls your head off of the frosty counter and up to him.

“-then you better open ‘er up wiiide, m’kay?”

There was something hard in his rugged tonality, something so…feral. And the only thing more feral were his hips, prying apart your puckered lips until you were gasping around his plumped-up girth. Every ridge and vein pushing and pushing until his massive cock was working you open - you could never get used to Nanami’s sheer size.

“Please-” You’re clawing down his half-open shirt, drenched through with such slabs of sweat until you could count every ab. Your head throws back as he further thumbs open your filthy hole with a soppy squelch–! “Please please please-”

Stretching and stretching. He couldn’t get enough of you - your rubbery hole was already opened up so that he could take you maddeningly.

Nanami’s aching tip was burning hot, slurping up your gooey insides with such famishment. And every pistoning drill had his golden happy trail itching your perked clit until you saw overstimulated stars-

“M’kissing you here.” He gruffs out from the depths of his guttural throat, veering an index in a straight line down your cunt. “And here.” Mazing into one of your favorite spots, battering a bruise. “And here…”

Skidding a stripe of pre just millimeters below your throbbing g-spot; your melty insides clench oh-so-adorably at the sensation and Nanami finds himself almost cumming. A singular thin, stringy knot of seed dribbling out of his sensitive orifice and targeting your g-spot - almost like he’d planned it.

He’s smiling as your chest heaves with a wail– “And m’kissing you ngh- there.” Your lips tremble as he leans over to nibble down on your dewy-glossed lips like a gummy, “My favorite. This here-” Your thighs jittery uncontrollably as he draws a firm line across, “-love you up to right here. Love you more.”

“K-Ken- oh!”

And it might be the eighth- was it? You think you’ve lost fucking count. The only thing on your mind right now was the way he hiked a capped knee over to angle his drilling hips just so.

“Mmm– keep these open.” A softened palm latches onto the underside of your thighs and splays you out until your legs hit your tits, such a burning stretch. And yet, Nanami himself was even hotter - even more feverish. Blond bangs tickling your face- “Squeeze- squeeze.”

Before you can even think of listening to his spat-out words, he’s slouching his head back to dart your pussy like a fat splat of spittle. Formulating a shiny sheen right over your entrance, “My pussy- fuck! Squeeze, my wife, m’gonna make sure you c-can feel allll of it. Gonna make sure.”

The swell of his vein-covered shaft protrudes against some of your sweetest spots, probing. “I feel- feel it-”

“Yeahhh—? S’she memorizing it?”

It’s like every vulgar whack has Nanami more pussydrunk by the sultry seconds.

Pound after pound that made the counter shake dangerously with his sheer force, you’re sure that if you tilted your head enough you’d see the way that his toned pelvis was stinging red from his bulky base.

The driveling crown of Nanami’s cock slips across your womb and you cry out, letting him clench that vice-like tie even tighter. Needier.

“She- she is.” You’re croaking out, embarrassingly belated. Oblivious to the way his molten eyes widen, heavy lashes fluttering furiously to remain open. A thin line of saliva leaks from your mouth, which Nanami tenderly wipes away. “Want you to- fuck- faster. Harder.”

Oh.

You evil, evil thing. Lengthy digits curling into a fist, he’s slamming it down inches away from your head at the white-hot sparks of pleasure that sprints through Nanami’s body. He wasn’t just fucking you on the kitchen counter, he was fucking you into it.

Meaty pecs heaving with a wheeze– “M-marry me.”

“Wh-what?”

“Marry me.” Damn near ten inches that drove crazily inside each n’ every time, pummeling out a clean circular bruise on the pinpoint of your spongy cervix. “Marry me marry me marry- fuck!”

He feels the moment you cum before even you do, a sparking hot flash of heat. Not even electricity, not even peaks, just sizzling tingles that make your dripping wet cunt spit out a few more pearly drops of sappy slick.

“Ken- fuckfuckfuck–” Your back arches almost completely off of the cool surface, and right into his arms. “-m’cumming m’cumming–”

The metallic frames of his glasses sag even loser, making him look such a mess. All burnished flush, hooded eyes, and a sleekly slobbering mouth that shapes to form- “Mhmm— cum, cum, my love- n’then m’gonna fuck! wife you up. Make you my gorgeous wife.”

He really was that pussydrunk.

Your shimmering lips crash mindlessly into his and your usually-stoic husband finds himself bloating even larger. Wrenching your head back with every snagging catch of his rock-hard cock, ba-dump–! goes the very bottom of your watery pussy.

Your words are soaked in such utterly loving, “We’re already married, Ken–”

“O-oh.” You never thought you’d hear the day that Nanami Kento stutters - almost even whines. Looking helplessly towards your prettily fucked-out face, and then your matching rings. Oh.

“Then…” But you can’t revel in your accomplishment too much before he rendered you thoughtless with yet another splosh of scalded seed overstuffing your soppy cunt. Spraying down your cervix until you could feel every loooong slide of those heavy ribbons. Eyes widening- did he just cum from realizing you two were married…Nanami grunts, Nanami begs.“-make me a dad?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 7 rounds

“Mmm, gorgeous–” He’s purring, cherry-pink lips now all stained white with the leaky remnants of his cum. Clinging his greedy maw ‘round your seed-frothed clit and draaagging, “Ya taste even sweeter after the heh- sixth round.”

You’re whimpering, tastebuds overflowing with the saturated taste of your slick saliva. It gurgles at the back of your throat and gushes the very instant Geto flops his prolonged tongue inside your filthy hole, “Sugu- Suguru–”

“Mmm– what’s that?”

“Sugu, I want-”

Before you can even think of finishing your sentence, Geto’s slender fingers come slamming down to leave your dripping pussymound aching. Spank! The manicured crescents of his nails just slightly catching on the hood of your clit while he pinches and leaves you breathless-

“N’ who was talking to you?” The sloped tip of his nose meanly nudges your pert nub, flaring out a scorched huff of laughter right where it struck you the most. “Mhm- s’rude ta talk outta turn, you know?”

And Geto’s gulping so loud it’s just filthy. Letting his heated mouth open wiiide enough that you’re displayed with all the dewy droplets of syrupy white that glisten down his dampened muscle.

Your thighs try helplessly to clench together, mussing up his long, inky locks - in a way he’d never admit that he fucking loves. “B-but, Suguru…” He really doesn’t make it easy for you, thrusting his tongue in rapid, greedy gyrations in and out. Mewling, “Really wan’ you to- to fuck me again.”

Ah, there it went - Geto halts, he gasps - his sanity.

Again? Again?

Oh. And somewhere in the back of his husked throat, he giggles. Has the audacity to fucking giggle whilst his eyeliner-smudged irises drift up to your fucked-out expression, the way you were so needy still. Begging, actually.

“R-round seven?”

He was so pretty - all tear-glittered eyes, lips that were swollen and sopping wet with oozing dredges of his own creamy white seed. He looked like he was about to fucking ravish you to soothe his permanently-drenched throat.

The only thing you can do is fucking nod - before Geto Suguru makes lecherous use of his swift battle prowess to latch a hand on the side of your waist and flip you over.

Sweat-simmered abs kissing up against your arched back, his long bangs tickling down your spine. Down, down, down– inches over where he’s swabbing your drooling cunt with three repeated strikes. One to make your pussy just whoosh! with syrupy gumdrops of sap - coating a burnished lacquer where his glinting piercing was-

“Heh- yer more honest here, gorgeous.” The stretchy band of your hole rings out with a burning streeeetch once Geto’s teasing you with the sweltering hot crown of his length.

So unfairly wide that your teary eyes run away to the back of your head without even a single inch sunken in. Your boyfriend catches the sensitive slit underneath his pretty swollen mushroom tip right where your entrance was, “Mmm– spilling out so much. Take it- take it then, if you want it so bad.”

“More–” Your skin pebbles with so many endless goosebumps at the chilling orb of his Prince Albert’s piercing probin’ your cunt open. In in in- “Fuh-fuuuuck, gimme- gimme more.”

“Greedy girl.”

Dark yukata only half-off, pinning you down. And yet even seven rounds wouldn’t be enough to ever get you used to how truly big he was. Massive.

Fuck- he’s cradling his half-soft, sensitive hilt with those lengthy fingers of his. Tight. Pulling and pulling in tight, rapid tugs so that his aching cock bloats even harder. Whispering a staccato of ‘c’mon c’mon c’mon’, either side of his circumference molding your melty walls never-endingly open. You whine as his throbbing tip starts perking even deeper inside your innards, making himself so fucking painfully hard for you.

“O-ohhhh so big.” You’re gurgling out, knees skittering to a shake on your screeching mattress. “S-Suguru why are you so ngh- big.”

Ruby-red, blushed so fucking pink that it matched the maidenly flush overtaking Geto’s handsome features. “That’s what ya get for thinking more with this hck! pussy than that head.” A creamy ring of cum outlines your entrance as he bottoms out, tender balls-deep. “So take it- take it then.”

Shit, you were squeezing around him so tight that it made him groooan pornographically.

Knotted slivers of spit dolloping out from between his cracked lips and onto your back, Geto’s sneaking a foot down on your hazed head and holding you trapped. Eyed locked on what he could see of your expression while he delved deeply in—

Every minute change, every tiny squeal while his heavy cock drips out hot precum exactly on the target of your g-spot. As if his circular piercing was a spotlight tugging on every tender spot mapped out, “Yeahhh– atta girl.”

You always melted into such mush whenever he cooed at you that way, yeowling out while he opened up every cute lil’ crevice. “Sugu, kiss- kiss?”

How cute, his long, eyelined waterlines flutter with the overstimulated urge to pass out right then and there.

Instead, Geto’s dragging his neatly-trimmed pelvis against the mound of your jiggling ass until your skin scratches raw. “A lil’ kiss- you mean- here?” Pointing a cute lil’ splotch of thick precum where your sloppy entrance was clenching and unclenching furiously. “Orrrr here?” Another barreling poke near where your g-spot was, digging the curvature of his piercing right inside. “Or– oh, you like that, huh, filthy girl?”

“Yes- yesyesyes fuck–!”

Thwack! You’re hit with the edges of his knobbled digits, and then another second strike with a ropey splatter of saliva. “What’d I say about talking out of turn, gorgeous?”

Before you can respond, Geto flicks over a slash of his beaded piercing right over your clit. “Or…” Right prior to the way that rasping breath of his grows shaky. Unsteady. And no sooner are you hit with the realization that you’re positively walloped with the saturated swash of his stringy cum clogging you up. Stretchy, squeezing himself inside you as if he was trying to milk himself dry - and he truly was.

Bumping out an inflationary lil’ pouch where he was knocking on your womb, you felt so full that you couldn’t even breathe.

Finally, finally against your lips– you taste Geto’s cum and overstimulated tears. He whimpers, “-here?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 4 ½ rounds

Choso’s crying, he thinks he’s blubbering. Big, great tears that spill from the ends of his eyes and stream down his scorchingly blushed cheeks, “C-can I put it inside again, baby–?”

And almost as if he was afraid of what you would say, your poor boyfriend’s angling your leg just a lil’ higher from behind. Watery mahogany eyes fixed permanently on your expression from behind, on his side - every minute change whilst he slithers his blushing red tip inside to wrench out the sloppiest sluuurp–!

Once. Twice. Three filthy times in succession.

You just leak in milky ribbons of cum that he’d pumped inside of you, all full until his rounded hilt was dripping wet in sticky rings upon rings of it. Drenched.

“Ohhh- pretty pussy. What a pretty pussy.” His breathy gasps humidify your neck, heaving. Leering down, “Hey there— pretty.” Not even talking to you. Panting— oh, and you’re sure right now if you turned around then he would be flushed bright pretty pink. “Please, baby, let me give you one more?”

You can’t help but coo as you’re feeling his warm tears splatter your shoulder drenched, “Of course, Cho– All inside now- don’t be shy.”

“M’n-not…”

And for all he said, Choso has to rim his pearly white teeth over the tender crook of your neck and bite the moment he sinks in. Bloated mushroom tip so fat that it only eases in a single inch before he’s latching two hands on the flesh of your hips and bucking.

Wildly, achingly.

“Oh- oh my god…” He’s whispering into your skin. Chiseled abs stuck like adhesive to your back, the sizzling sweat between your bodies makes Choso’s fattened girth slip out with a lecherous pop! and he whines– again and again.

You run your hands through the sweaty valleys of his locks, “Aww, s’alright–”

But he gapes, stingingly swollen cockhead almost steaming in your heady bedroom air. Spurting out a viscid jetstream of pre as if to say he wasn’t supposed to be outside. Anywhere but your honeyed pussy. “No- nonono–” Choso mutters, nibbling down on his bruised lips to failingly hold back his soft gasping whimpers. “Inside. Inside.”

“Mmm– lemme help, baby.” You pop the ‘p’ and gaze adoringly at the way his girthy, fat cock massages your outer ring. Treacling out a gooey few splotches of pre that overrun your flooded entrance and stretch you open so wide.

Truly, Choso was way too big for his own good.

Heavy and hard. The curving ridges of his shaft’s help him lean exactly towards where your g-spot was located, smearing out a steamy line of sap straight towards his bullseye there. Your clingy walls were practically melting into him, keening at the curly brown hairs that tickle your inner thighs.

“S-s’it all ngh! inside, baby–?” Your head lolls to the side and drowns in your plush pillow, dragging in deep breaths with every even deeper stroke he was planting on you. Slowly, so that you can feel every sensual lightning bolt of his veins massaging your innards.

“Inside- inside oh-” Choso’s spit-glued jaw drops as if the thought only registered to him. And he’s flapping his long lashes furiously to blink down through the haze, “S’inside.”

As if to prove his point, he snakes over one of his sweat-moistened palms and crams down over where your spongy cervix was being kissed over n’ over. So many loving, lingering kisses that scrubbed his rounded cockhead polished with every glide.

“A-all inside, all safe and hck! sound.” He’s prattling away drunkenly - and you don’t know who’s more fucked, you or him. Another winding arm pressing you to him like two halves of one body, “For the f-fourth time. Fuck- m’gonna cum once more o-or die trying.”

He’s treating your dampened cunt like he’s worshipping you there, such loooong raw grinds that make your eardrums buzz with the intense gulping slurps. Every strike to your most favorite areas leaving your perpetual high just tingles.

Your hand reaches over to drag him by one of his dangling silver necklaces into a sloppy, sloppy kiss. “Mmm– all inside, m’kay? No ngh- missing, Cho–”

“No missing. No…no missing.” He nods from behind, chestnut bangs falling over those half-lidded eyes and still doing nothing to hide the glaring intensity in them. With a puffing heaval of his full lungs, he moans– “Won’t miss- won’t miss…won’t miss so you have to t-take it ngh- all, baby- m’kay?”

And it’s only a few more vulgar slap after slap before Choso throws his head back and cums. Lifting your hips almost middair so that you’re swallowing up each plump wad of seed.

There’s so much of it bursting inside, coating your every nook and cranny in a stark white. You could practically feel the knotted mess streaaaming down your gummy walls, the drooling slope of his crownhead targeting every sweet orifice.

And Choso counts- oh, he counts.

Something smoky that crackles underneath his baritone breath, just barely reaching your popped ears. “One-” Just as his first wiry ribbon weaves its way through your oversaturated walls, “-two-” Another one streaking down your battered g-spot. “-three.‘

That third and final clump of hefty cum could barely even be considered that - only a few pearly droplets before he’s reaching his high dry.

Sparks explodin’ behind those shuttered lids, his sweat-slicked brows furrowing almost painfully. Choso rears his head like some beast and bites down exactly where your pulse was beating the loudest.

Hard enough to break skin whilst he cums and cums and cums and nothing comes out.

“Ngh- nghhhh–” He gurgles from the throaty back of his larynx, voice broken. And it’s just about the most intense high of his life- “Please- take it. P-please take it, baby.”

And take it you do— with open arms, and your legs shoved even more fully open by one of his lanky legs. The skin of his thighs steaming against yours, your cunt throbs once and you leer. And he jolts, primally. “Cho– how about we try till five?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 11 rounds

There was one thing no one ever mentioned about the king of curses - one thing no one dared to even question. Never dared to find out.

And that one thing being…his heat.

The very thing right now that had you bent all out of shape on his centuries-old bed into the most filthy mating press; your voice achingly hoarse from crying out, and yet your gushing pussy even louder.

So fucking loud, in fact, that Sukuna himself can’t help but let his cursed second mouth come lolling out to give your dripping lips a lil’ peck. Loud and squelching, the sweltering hot gusts of his breath make you shiver. “Wh-why the hell is your stamina so ngh- good, Kuna–?”

“Heh- m’flattered, brat.” You’re feeling each prominent vein decorating his twin shafts throb, bloating up even bigger until your rubbery orifice was stretched to the max. Your very cervix stinging with how many times he’d whacked it with his globular slopes. “But if yer still sensical then m’not doing a good ‘nough job.”

Though, he supposed that was partly on him for seeping reverse cursed technique throughout your boneless body- but he couldn’t have his dear queen breaking any bones, right?

And if this was any other time then Sukuna’s husky baritone wouldn’t have shaken the way it did, hitching octaves higher as he’s slapping his monstrous tongue down once on your slick-topped clit.

The mushy tip of it flicking over a few glittering beads of stray cum up to his other mouth, and Sukuna shivers. All cleaned up once more for him to ruin. Pink locks of hair flopping over as he throws his head back, “Oh- ohhhh, here it comes- here it comes. Get that cute cunt ready girl, because m’heat is far from over.”

And you’re far from even registering the words in your melted mind before he’s inching his sculptured hips back and hitting them down with a wham!

You can only stare as he barrels his rugged cocks flawlessly, direct hits that simultaneously batter both your g-spot and your poor cervix. And that’s all that it takes for your clingy, overstimulated walls to hold onto his heated lengths for dear life and cum. Sparking with white-hot pleasure while he stretches and stretches and stretches you stupid.

Even the slightest, tiniest movement made your body curl– the burning sparks of bliss way too much for you to handle. After so many continuous rounds you didn’t even know how you hadn’t broken any bones. Spread-eagle by two of his big, beefy arms-

“Oh my god- ohhh s’so big. Kuna s’too big–!”

“Yeahhh, tha’s more like it.” Sukuna snickers from above, eyeing the way your maw gapes open with a torrent of spittle that stains his shoulder tattoos. A sleek gloss that makes his other set of lips smack, “Always love when ya ngh- fuck yerself stupid taking that biiig cock ya said was too big.”

Mindlessly, your hand skims over where he was pounding a rounded bulge right into your tummy. Filling you up snugly. “Please- p-please–”

Tilting his head almost mockingly, “Yeah? Wha’s that, ma?” Oh, his grin makes him look so feral - gleaming white canines on full display. He quirks a brow, “That cute lil’ bulge?”

Your inner thighs shake pathetically as he drifts a fatly-padded thumb right over where he was reaching such tender areas inside, deeper and deeper every time you blinked. “Heh- s’where m’breeding you, human. N’ I think I reeeeeally like her.”

One, two, three whacks of his dual curved cocks until you realize Sukuna wasn’t even talking to you.

No- he was cooing down at that cylindrical outline visible through your tummy. The way every tunneling jackhammer had him pouring out a generous helping of precum that made it inflate even rounder - all from the sensitive bawling divot that rubbed raw along the ridges of your insides.

One of his four hands palming down hard, “And you know what else-”

“Fuuuuck–! Wait- m’sensitive m’sensitive, Kuna-”

“-s’reminding me of…” There’s a filmy haze in his eyes, something feral and gone. And as Sukuna inches in closer, his saccharine steamed breath makes you sweat. Drinking in a deep whiff of your honeyed pheromones and he drools, “-wanting to get you all round n’ full.”

Your mouth lacquers over with a watery bout of sap, the cloying taste of it taking over your senses. Slight strings of it snapping and dangling from your panting crevice, “Y-you mean…?”

“Oh you know what I mean-” Honed fringes of his canines dig deliciously into your earlobe, “-ma.”

There’s an electric trill that runs through you - and not just because Sukuna had taken up to walloping your poor g-spot about four times every single second. Fuck, the man had stray bursts of red, red lightning darting devilishly all over his body with the sheer power it took to keep you two from breaking.

Hard, thorough thrust after thrust that rendered your mind dizzy - your brain clanging around the inside of your empty skull. Excess sloshes of seed that he hadn’t lapped up swashing on your innards, you barely even realize it when you’re hitting yet another orgasm with a shrill–

“M’cumming- m’cumming m’cumming, Kuna–” Your hands claw down his muscular back, feeling his sexily shifting muscles underneath your touch. Pretty noises so loud that he’s reaching up a palm with his second mouth manifested there for you to suck on- “I’m- mmpf-!”

“Good…good.” His titters rumble out in a guttural gruff, prominent veins popping out on either side of his throat. “Mama’s always gotta cum first- n’now ta ngh- give ya my heir.”

Your chest heaves frantically, heart racing at his words. Set free from the heavy make-out with his lengthy tongue with a dampened pwah! “Will- will it even fit?”

Because Sukuna meant double the wadded cum filling you up, and with him being in heat…

“Of course ya can-” Probably, he’s musing inside of his fuzzy mind. And yet, it didn’t matter if a single knotted ounce leaked out because his cursed maw was already manifesting back across his tensed core. Licking its lips just as he twitches warningly inside you - so hard it leaves your tummy lurching- “‘-Kuna’s’ always right.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - 3 rounds

Ino can’t help but hitch out a tiny, rasping sob with each thrust; those sensitive veins covering each side of his red n’ swollen shaft massaging up and down furiously. “So sensitive- so sensitive, think m’gonna- gonna cum, pretty.”

Your throat clogs up with utter bucketloads of saccharine spittle, drenching Ino’s sexy ski mask that’d been stuffed into your sagging maw moments prior. Something about your voice being ‘too pretty’...

“What’s that? What’s that?” His weepy crowned tip stirs around your gummy insides, splotching out a hefty wad of creamed pre - a warning. So many pitches higher, feral. “C’mon m-milk me- milk me milk me with that pretty pussy, sweetness.”

Every vicious pap was so rough that it made your vision blister with pure white - you’re muffling out something that sounds like a jumble of ‘please’.

And before long you’re simply being soaked - if you thought your driveling pussy was wet before, then you weren’t ready for the absolute puddles it was formulating now. Heavy, clumped bucketloads of sappy cum that spills out of your saturated brim.

For the second time now.

Every crevice of your tender pussy is just flooded, the smooth waves of seed treacling down your sides is so sinful that your knees weaken. Doughy heels of your feet sliding down the sweaty skin of his slender waist ‘till his tawny happy trail hits your bleary cunt. “Mmm– feels so h-hot inside.”

So hot that Ino himself was burning, veins bubbling up from underneath his very skin – he’s flushing all the way down to his mahogany roots at the sight of that creamy frothing between your legs.

“Wanna see– s’alright if I- s-see?” And he’s not just probin’ the question at you, he’s targeting it to your pussy. Nodding along with every squelch after squelch emanating out as if holding his own lecherous conversation.

And the very moment that Ino lurches his hips and draaaag his ballooned-up cock out of you, your sloppy hole simply cascades.

So wet that a warm waterfall pours out between your puffed-up folds, enough to soak your sheets and right down to your bedsprings. They ricket creakily following every bulky slap of his round, cylindrical shaft down on your gluey slit.

Grunting, “Yeah- yeah yeah yeah so fuckin’ pretty- so pretty. D’you have any idea h-how hck! gorgeous ya are?”

A clingy, dripping mess dangles from his oozing divot by the time your cottony mind clears up enough to spit out his choking mask. Blubbering out a strained, “Please- please, Taku—”

Oh, that lil’ nickname makes Ino slouch his head back and groan.

“Don’t- fuuuuck, don’t say it like that-” His huffing words depart his chest with every stimulated twitch, full-bodied. Ino was shivering, those trembly thighs of his doing nothing to hide the way his ruby-red cockhead was blushing enough to resemble a lollipop. “Don’t say it or m’gonna…”

“Mhm—?”

You evil minx.

With a determined rut of his beastly hips, Ino’s spanking the tender underside of his length down straightly across your cunt. Making you see for yourself just how loooong and wide he really was, your greedy insides are clenching already.

Drawling up a steady finger to mark on your where he’d be using as his target, “Hiya, pretty- can ya handle one more? J-just- just the tip this time, ngh- okay?” Muttering - more to himself than anything. Those fawny doe-eyes look up at you and you’re noticing that his pupils are practically hearts. “Swear- just the tip, I swear-”

And he’s still so sensitive - so delicate from just cumming that even smooching your glossily saturated lips is enough to leave your pretty boyfriend gasping.

Nose crinkling at the bridge, “Just…just the tip…” He’s talking almost as if he’s in a daze, drunkenly lolling his head down to watch the way your bulging pussylips smear open with his wide circumference, “-for th-this third round- can’t be more than the ngh- tip, okay–?”

Punctuated with slow, sensual grinds.

The pulsating of his tip curves up into your g-spot precisely, over and over. Repeated, thorough strikes where he makes sure you’re being rendered dizzy on his winding veins. Your sensory walls feel along every zig-zagged pattern, rubbing back n’ forth back n’ forth back n’ forth.

“Fuuuuck– it feels so good, baby.”

“Sh-shit.”

He stills at your words - body aching out a ba-dump–! You mewl out, your overstimulation making the blissful sensations increase twofold. And a fat glob of cum spurts out of you as you quiver, heady gaze starin’ dead-on. “Want a bit more…Taku.”

There it was again. And Ino is falling even deeper in love with you, heart racing once he flits his hazed peripheries down to your pussy. Then you. Your pussy. Then you. Your drooling pussy-

“G-gonna…” He starts off, voice low. Rasping. Something primal in them jolting awake, he clings on a hand underneath one of your asscheeks and lifts you up easily. Pliably, to inch in just another solid bulk further, “-gonna take it alllll like a g-good girl, okay?”

Yes- but you don’t even have the time to revel in your success before you’re being split apart.

“Keep- keep your eyes open, sweetness.” You’re hearing grouch into your fuzzy ear canal, the stinging spank of skin-on-skin echoing right along with it. “Keep ‘em open n’ watch me all ngh- deeeep inside.”

Ino wasn’t giving you mercy, he wasn’t giving you even time to breathe before the very cum-capped tip of his cock reaches into your lungs. Carving out a stout, rotund bruise exactly on your sponged cervix, “One.” He counts - counts. “Two- three.” Every hit after hit to the ends of your gooey pussy that make you wail out in whimpers.

Your hands wrap around his craned neck, tangling with the sweat-matted curls at the base. “Are- are you gonna cum all hck! inside this time, Taku–?”

And how could he resist? He’s reaching up to ten before answering, a breathy pant of an answer. “Anything for you, sweetness…”

♡ GOJO SATORU - INFINITY?!

“Sweetheart, look- look at me.” Torrid clumps of spittle cling down Gojo’s lips in a shiny sheen, licked dripping wet as he takes in the sight of you all pretty underneath him and damn near swoons.

For the nth time tonight– you’d lost count.

The strongest frantically flaps his long lashes open, eyes bleary and hazed - your bedroom lights had long since shattered, and yet he was so honed in on you. On the way your slippery slope sloshes out with a creamy white pour of cum the second he slaps his sweltering crowned tip down. Thwack!

Octaves higher, wild. Gojo couldn’t even speak normally at this point- shit, you wonder if he was even thinking. “Look, sweetheart- o-oh my fuck, look.”

And you - you were so fucked dumb you could barely even breathe let alone twist your head ‘round to stare, teeth bitten cutely around the drenched edge of your silken pillow. “Please- please, Toru- d-dunno if I can fit any more…”

“Wh-what?” At this, the strongest has the audacity to flinch- fully bodily, his meaty thighs pressing down further on your ass to prevent you from squirming. You could count every tick and every flex of his calves as he pinned you down in the most lecherous, most raw prone bone ever.

A hot waft of breath empties out near your sensitive ear, “Y-you don’t ngh- mean that…do you?” Desperate. Fattened globs of something wet splatter on top of your shoulder, and only sultry moments later do you realize that you had him crying. Dewy sapphire eyes honed in on your expression of oh! “M-more- c’mon, say it- tell me what you want, my girl.”

Both you and the rickety bedsprings sing in unison as he rests his hefty weight over and smears a thick stripe of buttery pre where you were leaking out. Flooding, actually.

You were so wet that it’d formed a syrupy puddle, your ruined sheets sticking to your slammed skin as if they were made of glue. Because your dear husband had made sure to fill you up till the very brim, knotted ribbons of seed frothing at your entrance like a cap of icing.

Gojo rovers his hands near the base of your spine and arches you, “Again, c’mon- c’mon c’mon—” Your ears ring with a slobbering sluuuurp–! as his rounded mushroom tip leaves peck after peck on your sloppy hole. A huff of laughter vibrating his broad chest from behind you, “Look how loud- how p-pretty.” Yeah, those powerful eyes of his were locked on your dripping cunt. The way those dangling wires of slick streeetch ridiculously. “Look how badly she wants me- but I needa hear it from ngh- you, sweetheart.”

“F-from me?” You’re gurgling, and somewhere along the way he’s curling a dexterous hand around your throat to force you to look up.

He’s rutting into you like an animal - a promise of what was to come. “Mhm— you, my girl.” Those heart-shaped pupils of his finally dead-locking into yours- and a few axons in the air explode from simply the eye-contact. “Say it- say it. Tell me you wan’ me- want more. One more.”

He’d been saying one more for aaaaages now. For so many seconds and thirds and fourths.

If it was anyone but Gojo, then they wouldn’t have been able to catch the minute way your watery lips unfasted into a wobbly shape of something like ‘more’.

But this is Gojo Satoru - so of course, he notices.

“Wh-what was that?” He’s breathing out, globe-headed tip just starting to press against your awaiting pussy. Throb-throb-throbbing, his pounding vein massaging the hood of your clit. “Tell me- tell me what-”

One clammy palm of his reaches out to claw the crown of your head- whining for a second when his limitless flickers on and off. Feverish. Out of control. Gojo’s nose buries inside your throat to drink in your sexed-up scent, slobbering. “Tell your dear S-Satoru here, tell it allll t’me.”

“W-want it-”

“Want whaaat?”

“Want-” Your throat constricts with such a leaden ball of need, the saturated sweetness of it clogging your words. “-want you. Fuck me, Toru-”

And Gojo feels his ears pop! with pressure, every unbolted piece of furniture hovering numerous inches in the air when the strongest reels his toned hips back and slams you incredibly full.

So sensitive that the man flinches, head throwing back with a smoky groan of– “Oh. Ohhh m’n-never gettin’ tired of that.”

It’s a mind-numbing stretch, the taut pull of his girthy cock swabbing apart tender nooks and crevices that only he could. Mixing n’ matching new hefty piles of pre upon the remnants of seed he’d left behind prior. He was just so big.

Before you know it, Gojo’s rubbing one of his doughy-padded hands over your lower tummy. “Woah…” Eager tips of his fingers pressing down hard on the plump, cylindrical outline jutting out of you. “-can feel it-” Peripherals glowing, Six Eyes rendering him light-headed. “-can see it, sweetheart.”

Fuck- it’s about the fifth time that he was uttering those very words to you. And the simple sound of them had your thighs clenching, sticking together with a solid plap! of sprayed juices trapped in-between.

Gojo was so hot collapsing down into you like he was melting - everything from his pants, to his skin to his pace. Practically melting. A fast, pounding pummel over n’ over that rubbed your gummy walls raw every time he’s prodding about.

Can’t stop, won’t stop.

“Gonna- gonna fuck you, m’kay?” His pearly whites sinking down on your soft earlobe, Gojo’s grunts pour out after every slick gliiiide of his meaty muscled front down your prespired back. Up and down.

You think you count six- no, eight of his washboard abs before your cottony mind is put-together enough to mewl, “Y-you already- are. Fuck! Already f-fuckin’ me so deep, Satoru.”

“Oh…” Sexily half-lidded eyes of his fall down to where his viscerally fat length was prying your swollen folds apart. In and out. Split-ended tip rummaging up your gooey insides until hot pearly beads of cum were just oozing out with each thrust. “Oh.”

Was he seriously so pussydrunk that he’d forgotten? That it was the only thing on his mind?

You’re not getting too far with your half-formed thoughts until a few slender fingers drift over to toy with your knobbled clit and make your eyes swirl cartoonishly. “H-how’s it feel to keep the strongest ngh- hostage like th-this. To know m’not gonna go aaaaanywhere until I’ve plugged up this pretty pussy?”

Your heart races with the implications that his bass steeps primally in, “P-plugged up?”

“Mhm.” As if to prove his point, the rounded curvature of his tightened balls come spanking down near the treacly ends of your cunt. Enough to render you speechless, he floats his sensory touch over where a spurt of white was jetstreaming out. “Until I fill you up so much I c-can’t even fit anymore.”

Your vision’s flashing pure white, “And h-how will you do that?”

Oh- you were so fucked.

And if it wasn’t the way the bed was shifting- floating, then it was the way that something in the air shimmers with power. Your clit twitching as a few tendrils of buzzing cursed energy reach up your body with a low bzzzzzz–!

Whirling your droopy head to see that his pretty eyes were aglow, skin crackling with minuscule blue lightning.

“Gonna…” Gojo cracks a toothy smile - breathy, crazed. Canines gleaming with carnal slobber, “-mold you to my cock forever.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - 6 rounds

Your boss, Higuruma, was mean - and he fucked even meaner.

Tangling a hand near the satin base of your tight, tight office skirt– one that he all but rips off entirely. A few scruffy tatters of it stuffed into your stupidly unfastened mouth, Higuruma takes one good look at you and takes you for hours on his very own desk.

The mahogany surfaces crackles underneath your clawing, a dopey smile splaying out across your face. Feeling the tattered glide of that condom that was ripping off, “Fuck- more, more– Hiromi.”

“Hiromi?” Higuruma’s grouchy baritone rings across your ears and makes your toes curl cutely, vibrations skittering right down to the dewy spot between your legs. And where it rained, it poured. Out with every rummaging pound being planted on your poor, dripping cunt. “Who the fuck is ‘Hiromi’, angel? Forgot m’your hck! boss after five rounds, huh? Guess m’just gonna hafta- hah- jog- that- memory back-”

And every rut had him stretching and stretching at your gluey walls until you saw white, the pointed probe of his pre-topped cockhead bludgeoning you so thoroughly.

Higuruma throws one of your jittery legs over his shoulders and slicks down a solid splash of viscous spittle, prying apart those glossily stained folds until they let off a ringing sluuurp–! “Ooo– look at you, say ‘thank you’.”

“Th-thank you…” A hefty spitball bubbles out of the edges of your pathetic maw, one that Higuruma wastes no time slouching over and licking away with the edges of his tongue himself.

“Mmm– always welcome, sugar.” The curvaceous fringe of his thumb comes slotting down between your slippery slit, pokin’ just inside to tug on your cozy ring of muscle. “Now how about we test that hah- streeeetch.” Digging right along the sleek flesh to let both his rigid length and his fingers pull you taut.

One of his frigidly cool rings snag on your flooded hole and make you whine– “Please- s’sooo much, Hiro- sir.”

“Now now- don’t whine, angel.” Higuruma’s bloating his cock up a few more mind-numbing millimeters in width, dilated pupils latches permanently on the way it makes your kiss-bitten lips fall into a cute oh! “You begged for this with this- damn skirt n’ that-”

A blazing bite on your lower lip, the corners of his mouth turns up into a leering snarl as your boss takes his languid time draaagging it away. “-this damn s-smile and-” Steady pace getting sloppy, achingly filthy. “-this fuckin’ pussy.”

Oh, your pussy was just yeowling with every ramming slam.

Soggy squelches that rang across all four walls and seeped through the paper-thin plaster of the office. Higuruma watches with a smile as you slap your hand over your mouth, “Now now, let ‘em hear-” Tracing a wet streak of buttery pre that sandwiches each of your sweet orifices, he’s targeting your adorable g-spot and striking it like a dartboard. “-how many rounds- how- how many times have I fucked you stupid, angel?”

“S-s…”

“Speak up.”

Fuck- he was so hot. With his clean-cut, billowing jacket haphazardly draping off, and the way that Higuruma’s hair was uncharacteristically unruly. Mussed-up strands plastering to the perspiration-stuck plane of his forehead, he looked crazed.

Hitting your pussy faster and faster, it was a slaughter fest. “Speak up speak up-”

“Six!” You’re squealing, gasping. Unsure of what came first - the drawling yelp of your whine or the way that you’re running headfirst into your high.

“Oh– filthy girl. Look how she’s ngh- throbbin’ f’me.”

So powerful that every peak of it flashes your vision with nothing but white, and you can only stare up ahead at Higuruma’s sinfully fucked-out expression while he bludgeoned your pussy raw. Lugging you through one peak, another peak, another, another-

Voice cracking with tears at the sheer overstimulation running through your body, “Hiromi- inside, please. Wan’ you inside-” Before you know it, your hand reaches down as if magnetized to caress the dark happy trail leading up to his base. “P-please?”

“Please…?”

“-w-with a hck! ch-cherry on top.”

And almost immediately, Higuruma grins. Depraved.

Pulling out with a spectacularly wet plop! he’s leaving you clenching around nothing for the briefest nanoseconds. Tearing off the mess of rubber that was once a condom - one that was way too small for his massive size.

Because Higuruma was so big that your thighs flinch at simply the idea of fitting all of him once more, mouth watering.

But that’s exactly what you do - in one, sloppy shuddering ram. All the way from his rounded, gummy-pink mushroom tip to the very hefty base. All those prominently veins snaking down your snug walls, vehemently. You’re feeling his hips shudder–

“Inside-” You echo, just about the only thing you can do right now. “-don’t miss. Don’t miss–”

“Think m’gonna miss?” One sappy smack on the awaiting slope of your pussy for you to get your lil’ act together, and another just for fun. “Just w-watch me–” His hissing growl makes you clench; dark brows furrowing, toned abdomen snapping, achy cockhead bursting. “-m’gonna fill her u-up until she fuuuck–! can’t take anymore.”

Your overfilling pussy feels like a slushy as the first few ribbons of cum strike your sloshing bottom. Practically feeling the swashing sensation of a goopy second layer cloaking your insides, and he doesn’t just orgasm once.

No- your dripping cunt is being fed with so many seconds and thirds and fourths. Gripping pussy swirlin’ around the glossy mess until it pinpoints every magical spot inside you.

“S-see?” Higuruma’s stern baritone wavers, unsteady. Stuttering. He’s smoothing over a few dumbstruck droplets of spittle that slip out of you, “There- your Hiromi doesn’t miss. There we go- are we happy now, hmmm–?”

And you can only nod and nod and nod, in awe of the oozing oodles of sappy liquid that stuck your thighs together. “Y-yes, Hiromi.”

“Mmm– call me your…husband?”

A/N. Mwahaha I sense ovulation is near…

Plagiarism not authorized.

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cummitted · 2 months ago

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dilf!toji who just can’t resist his cute lil neighbor :(

two big, meaty hands grip your sides, blunt nails digging in hard enough to where you’re sure bruises are already forming and marring your soft skin. he slams you back onto all eight inches of his cock, and his pupils expand as your ass jiggles and you squeal, “toji!”

his name sounds so perfect on your glossy lips, like a damn hymn.

“this is what ya wanted, right?” toji doesn’t even bother with waiting for a response from you — he already knows the truth.

why else would you always tell him “good morning, mr. fushiguro!” with that bright, pretty smile and big, round eyes or offer to babysit megumi in those dangerous scraps of fabric you call shirts and skirts, matching lacy pink bra showing from your low-cut top and panties peeking out whenever you bend over to pick up a fallen pencil?

or, the boldest thing his pretty baby has done, fuck some loser so loud that toji could hear it through his bedroom wall? you wanted him to hear your moans, every cry — “mm, harder!” — and whine — “oh, fuck, right there!” —, every muttered praise that couldn’t have been for the peon you were with, but for him, for toji.

and toji hates to disappoint, especially someone as cute as you.

that’s precisely how you ended up where you are now, face down, ass up in his bed, drool dribbling from your open mouth and eyes nearly crossing as he splits you right on open with his monster cock.

your fingers desperately scrabble for purchase against his sheets, acrylic nails digging in as your hips uselessly try to squirm away.

you hadn’t expected your neighbor to be so cruel, either! he’d barely stretching you out before ramming that girthy length into you, leaving your poor hole fluttering and stinging in an attempt to adjust. not that it did much — he’s still much too big, his tip bullying your cervix with every thrust and making you feel impossibly full.

it’s soooo not fair, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop. hell, you can barely think, much less speak.

even if you could, you wouldn’t tell him to. you’ve never felt this good while having sex in your life.

“ungh, mmngh, t-toji—”

a snap of his hips shuts you right up, and toji grins, that sexy scar in the corner of his mouth stretching with his lips. “yer gettin’ what you asked for, but now yer whinin’?” he tuts, and one hand abandons your hip to deliver a harsh smack to your ass. “greedy slut.”

and, no, he doesn’t miss the way you clench down.

“jus’ hold still and take this dick, yeah?”

as if you can do anything else.

each thrust is loud and sloppy and mean, your pussy crying out for more with every lewd squelch. it’s like he wants to plow you through the damn mattress, and god knows you’d let him.

you’d let him do anything.

which is why when he cums, you let him pump you full of his hot seed, every spurt making your overstimulated body convulse. toji doesn’t say anything, either, thinking you’re too out of it to question him.

y’know, megumi has been whining about not having anyone to play with. maybe he’ll get lucky and you’ll give his baby boy a precious little sister <3

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk toji #jjk toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you

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ok-illsignup · 2 months ago

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THIS IS SO GOOD! Oh my goodness, your writing is pure poetry, pure gold!! I love how you used the concept of soulmates and made it unique - your characterizations are great <3

the sweetest

summary: when someone told you that being in love doesn’t necessarily mean loving, you couldn’t believe the absurdity of that statement. as life went on, the truth of those words would continue to weight heavily over your head.

cw: fem!reader, both mydei and reader are equally disturbed individuals, toxic relationships, codependency, angst, hurt with the littlest of comfort, soulties/soulmates au || wc: 10k

the food on your plate seemed especially unappealing today. on the other hand, was it ever? perhaps when you first stepped into Okhema, completely enamored by the culture. yes, you could remember it clearly - the way it would melt on your tongue, flavors mixing with fresh air you’d breathe in everyday on the high balcony. meat and fruits, expensive wine you spent way too much money on. you’d chuckle to yourself as you dipped the slices of cheese in honey, thinking about how lucky you were to reside in the holy city. the state of unawareness you possessed only made everything more blissful.

right now the dinner was nothing but dry - with the first bite, you genuinely thought you would choke. it tasted the same way his name felt on your lips. Mydeimos. the man that decided to test your patience, will and mental strength everyday. you didn’t like the thought, but did he bring anything other than misery into your life? at first you didn’t want to perceive the relationship you both shared as something inherently bad — as time went on, it turned out near impossible. venom seemed to be laced through his words, and you knew that it seeped from your mouth too. sometimes you liked to imagine him as the wrong one - however, with the way things stood, you were equal in your spite. you could stop the chain of events and run somewhere else, to another city. looking back, it was the best option you had, and yet still declined to take. rope bound your hands to his, and you would tug on it relentlessly. in the back of your mind, the image of Mydei finally stumbling over, and letting go replayed constantly. but if it ever came to that, would you be satisfied? happy?

the answer was simple, but dreadful all the same - no.

as you took another bite of your meal, the image of your late mother flashed. perhaps she was the root of all your suffering? the damned prophecy she revealed to you when you were younger, of a boy with golden hair dipped in blood, who one day would bask in glory.

"you see, my dear [name], all of humanity has their other half, hidden somewhere. not everyone is destined to meet them, but you will. i’m sure of that."

(the way she smiled at you with so much glee in her eyes was disgusting).

"but mom, how do you know?"

(you wish you never asked this question).

"i have my ways," she chuckled, swiping the mischievous hair behind your ear, "see that mark on your wrist? look for someone with the same one. it means you both are meant to be."

you glanced at the singular line that stretched from the knuckles up to your wrist, and thought it looked more like a scar than anything else. you have seen other people with similar marks - but they were always more intricate. veins of ivy embedding an arm, or stars splattered in a specific pattern. yours wasn’t like that.

"ugh… that will be so hard to spot on someone! do you at least know how that person looks?"

the woman seemed to take a second of contemplation. "well, it was revealed to me in a vague way. but i can tell you, if you want to."

"yes, please!" you giggled as you jumped up all thrilled, tugging at the long sleeve of her dress. to your younger self, there was nothing more exciting than finally meeting the person you were 'tied' to. your soulmate.

"alright then,” your mother nodded, giving your head an affectionate ruffle, "his hair is blonde. it’s a very beautiful color, mixed with red. those eyes… striking to the bone. a born leader, i’m sure."

at that, you hummed in deep acknowledgment as you tried to imagine the boy. for some reason, nothing concrete came to you. still, it wasn’t like you were unsatisfied - maybe you had a different picture in mind, but that person was destined to you nevertheless! as you kept on brooding, one of your friends suddenly called out to you. immediately distracted, you followed after the beckoning girl to play in the fields.

how you wished it ended at that. your past self forgot, and kept on frolicking in the lush meadows with your old friends forever. your mother never passed, and you pursued your physician studies at home. the soulmate you dreamt of meeting got left behind as nothing but a mere, blurry visualization. but here you were, sitting in one of the apartments of Okhema, locked up in your room. Mydei was probably attending to some important stuff, or bickering with Phainon, like he always did. maybe they were sparring? from the sound of clashing swords outside, it was likely.

you sighed, digging the knife into the piece of meat with more force than necessary. the momentary guilt you felt from blaming your mother for the situation you created with your own hands shook you a bit. how could you? she never meant any harm. nor did you, but things turned out as they did, and who else was there to blame?

perhaps the winds that took you to the holy city.

it was unbearably hot that day. sweat covered your temples as you tried cooling down your face with a makeshift fan (which worked poorly). still, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of excitement wash over you as you took the views in. streets bustling with life, merchants yelling over each other, people laughing somewhere, and children running to their heart’s contents. the general atmosphere successfully pushed the discomfort to the back of your mind. it was only your sixth day in Okhema, yet you were already feeling as if it was the place you belonged to.

your peaceful stroll quickly came to a halt when you saw an awfully familiar silhouette standing not so far away. you didn’t know the man - it was not possible, as it was your first time seeing him. however, something about him seemed… unsettlingly different. you could recognize the blonde-red hair, so rare and distinct. you felt your heart jump - both from fear and elation, a mixture that caused you to freeze. you blinked twice, then rubbed your eyes, but the man was still there, talking to someone.

you clenched your fists as you remembered the words of your clairvoyant mother. meeting your soulmate wasn’t the objective of life you led so far, but the thought of having someone important was still dear to your heart. with new-found resolve, you took a few steps forward, wondering how you could strike up the conversation. first impression was always the most important, after all. the image of coming up to a stranger, and waving your mark before his eyes was ridiculous. what if it wasn’t him, after all? now that would’ve been awkward.

you approached the blonde, gently patting his arm.

"excuse me, sir, how do i get to the baths?" you could never go wrong with a classic. of course, you knew the way to the baths, but playing oblivious was your best option.

when he turned to face you, you felt your blood pressure rise once more. two golden hues met with yours, and at that moment, you knew your mother was right. striking. it was the only word you could use to describe them. fierce eyes filled with something your mind couldn’t quite comprehend. your gaze flickered over all of his body in search of a soulmate mark, yet you were unable to spot it. stress squeezed your guts. where was it? under his clothes? if so, then you had no real way of confirming if he was the one.

as he opened his mouth to answer you, his vision seemed to suddenly lock onto something else - your right hand. recognition seeped onto his face, and you felt brief relief before the man’s expression twisted. something was wrong. why wasn’t he happy? you were, at least that’s what you thought a few seconds ago. joy quickly morphed into an ugly feeling of distress, sitting firmly at the bottom of your stomach.

"is… is there something wrong?" you asked, furrowing your brows as the relentless sun beamed straight onto your nape. it seemed as if the heat only made the situation worse.

"i know you asked for directions, but i’d like to have a talk with you. in private." he glanced at the other man who was still standing there, "then, i can lead you to the bathhouse."

the slightly harsh tone of his voice made you wince, but you nodded, knowing that refusal wasn’t a choice you could afford to make here. the blonde excused himself, telling you to follow him somewhere secluded. you did, even though something deep within your mind was screaming at you to turn on your heel and run. at that time, you didn’t recognize it as anything other than nervousness. at least now you were aware your gut feeling was right. back then, if you decided to dismiss the man, would it all turn out differently? it is common knowledge - you meet your soulmate once, and the universe will make sure for you to never truly part ways. at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. you could have sprinted with all your might, but you’d still cross paths nevertheless. be it in a few months, maybe on your deathbed. there was no telling.

to be honest, it was much more of a complex problem. you could continue to blame all of your choices, thinking of ways you should have avoided it. the domino effect began long time ago, when your mother first got sick, and soon the delightful life you once had crumbled over your own head. all of your struggles lacked in any meaning, and the house of cards you meticulously crafted for all those years got swiped by a strong gust of wind. grief-stricken people seek resolve, and the only way of keeping your mind from the tragedy was to change your environment.

image of the man’s back as you trailed after him like some kind of a ghost was still vivid. something between his shoulder blades, located around his thoracic vertebrae caught your attention. it wasn’t easy to tell, but there it was. slightly obscured by his clothes, a singular line. that really was him. surely, the moment of meeting your soulmate didn’t go as planned, but perhaps he was more… sensitive than you? your fantasies of jumping into each other’s arms got successfully dimmed by his rather odd reaction, yet you couldn’t blame him. after all, it was so sudden, so unexpected. obviously he’ll eventually warm up to you.

after walking into an alleyway, you finally stopped, almost bumping into his back. fortunately, it was much darker and cooler here, and he couldn’t see the sweat beading on your forehead. the blonde turned to face you, his expression unreadable. it wasn’t angry, nor sad, but rather cautious in a certain way.

"show me your hand.” he demanded, stretching out his palm towards you. the man was straightforward, that’s for sure. usually you’d have no problem with it, except this time it actually irked you.

"you won’t even introduce yourself?" you cocked your eyebrow, gazing up at him with a bold look. his piercing gaze made you feel as if he wanted to fix you into place, just like people do with dragonflies. securing them with pins and needles, their lifeless forms never to move again.

you managed to spot the twitch of his eye. “Mydeimos." he huffed, lips stretching into a thin line, as if he was barely stopping himself from adding unnecessary comments.

"[name]." you replied shortly, placing your hand atop his. resisting made no sense, even though you wished to spite the impossibly impatient man.

is it really your soulmate if your first thought is to make his life harder? are you truly meant to be when instead of feeling giddy and excited, you’re starting to become irritated?

a clipped breath of disbelief escaped Mydei’s lungs, his grip on your hand strengthening just for a second before he let go. "why do you look so calm? do you not have any oppositions towards a stranger dragging you off, and then showing him your mark?”

that was a fair question. you definitely were acting as if the course of action was natural, even though it wasn’t.

"my mother, she—" you began, thinking of the simplest way you could explain it to him, "when i was younger, she had a prophetic vision. specifically speaking, of my soulmate. she managed to describe you to me, and the image stuck." a heavy sigh slipped from your mouth as you got met with silence, urging you to continue. "well, of course i wasn’t sure if it was you, but once i saw your back…"

you trailed off, wondering what caused Mydei to be so deeply submerged in his thoughts. all the time he kept quiet, looking between you and your wrist, as if contemplating something.

"a-are you not happy?" you managed to force out, dreading the response he would offer. slowly, the hopes of a better life with someone by your side started to fall apart.

you should have stayed in your hometown. why didn’t you?

(grief-stricken people seek resolve).

why do they seek resolve?

(because they have nothing—)

"no." Mydei’s curt answer cut through the air, making you jump. "i’ve no time for soulmates, or any other type of romance." he scoffed, "hmph, to think that a person would willingly put themselves through such trouble simply because of a mark on their skin."

you watched the man cross his arms over his chest, your eyebrows narrowing together. "then why didn’t you ignore me earlier? if soulmates really hold no significance to you, why’d you confirm we are tied?" you almost barked out, feeling the heat crawl back on your skin. oh no, you wouldn’t let it go simply because your soulmate is apparently also a coward.

"listen, i understand why you’re upset. my mind won’t change, though." the man’s tone got a bit darker, as if owning you at least an explanation was already too demanding. "i just wanted to set things straight with you. it is more than probable we’ll… stumble upon each other some more."

"so you don’t want me to get my hopes up, is that it?" you barely contained your anger, Mydei’s indifference only adding to the fire in your chest.

"exactly. now, do you still want me to show you the way to the baths? or was that just an excuse in order to talk to me?"

your fists clenched by your sides, and the thought of slapping him across the face appeared in your mind. fortunately (or perhaps not), you were above that.

"bastard." you hissed through your teeth, rapidly turning on your heel and walking away. damn him and that stupid stubbornness, and his hair, and eyes, and— and everything! not only did your 'soulmate' humiliate you, he seemed so stoic about the whole situation in contrast to your boiling blood — as if he didn’t care at all! and the bitter truth was, he most likely didn’t. why did your mother insist that you find him? her passing already took an unfathomable toll on you, and now her absurd death-bed wishes continued to only further your misery.

''once i’m gone, you’ll be left on your own'' she’d say, her voice trembling with fatigue, ‘'you’ll need someone to take care of you. to stand by your side, and protect from the world’s harm.'’

couldn’t you protect yourself? did she really think so lowly of you?

'’he will treat you well. i’m sure of it."

(liar).

you closed your eyes, traversing the streets at a fast pace. tears welled up behind your eyelids, and you knew it wasn’t because of how Mydeimos rejected you, but rather at the memory of your frail mom. the unwavering love still filling her gaze as coughs shook her body, careworn words urging you to find a better life. perhaps you weren’t doing it for yourself, but rather for her - for that ghostly vision of her face.

you seldom fought for anything, however now it seemed that a new resolve sparked within you. you won’t stick by your soulmate’s side, but you’ll strive. depending on anybody was no good, and that much was clear to you.

the memory of that fateful day made you cringe as you attempted to convince yourself the vegetables you were currently chewing on weren’t exactly awful in taste. they were, but you still continued to eat. wasting food wasn’t something you usually did, even if it was disgustingly bland.

three years passed since then, but all those events were still clear as a day in your mind. you remember swearing to yourself that you wouldn’t even look at Mydei’s face — turns out, Phainon found out about the correlation between you. it was long before you and Mydei started to jump at each other’s necks, so you were sure the man harbored no harm when he came up with that wicked plan of his. for whatever reason, he thought that playing a matchmaker was his call, and by some means he found out about your qualifications for a physician. the energy that emanated through your body, which took you years to master into a healing form would soon be used for a ‘greater good'.

Chrysos Heirs never exactly lacked in medical care, yet now you were hired as their personal nurse. by that, you also found out Mydei was apparently the crown prince of Kremnos. it wasn’t like you were unaware of his high status in society, but the sheer importance he carried took you by surprise. with that, something else was revealed — he couldn’t die. he was a warrior, and his body lacked in any kind of scarring. when you first heard it, you were almost relieved, as it obviously meant he wasn’t in the need of a physician.

turns out your hopeful thinking was for nothing, as your current position was only meant to get you both closer. you could as well be polishing the baths, and it wouldn’t make any difference.

it began out slow, and you don’t remember which one of you started it. you would regularly see Mydei, and share just a mere glance of acknowledgment. sometimes he’d scoff under his nose, then again you’d make a brief remark about his attitude. those small interactions were nothing but a dragged out prelude to the events that future held for you. a testament of sorts, building the fundaments of your downfall. snarky comments couldn’t sate neither of you, and soon you’d begin to argue on daily basis. soulmates are further cemented by interaction - which you were aware of, yet couldn’t stop digging your own grave. every time you talked to Mydei, you knew the mud around your ankles got denser, and soon you’d be stuck. he would be as well - at least you weren’t the only one at disadvantage here. constant fighting was draining, even for the mighty prince, and that thought never failed to make you chuckle grimly under your breath.

others took notice of the scenes you both would cause. sometimes they would end long before escalation, but more often than not Mydei was faced with flying ceramics, and you with a logorrhea of curses and damnations. the worst part is that it didn’t only affect you, but others too. even though you both had enough decorum to stop yourself from fighting in front of civilians, Aglaea would often point out how anxious Tribbie got, careworn by your constant barking and scowling. Phainon has shown genuine concern too, going as far as to scolding Mydei. needless to say, he was always getting dismissed by a wave of the uninterested man. as how things were unfolding, you had thought many times of leaving the Okhema. however, wouldn’t that equal you admitting defeat? in your soulmate’s eyes, your picture would be reduced to a cowardly nobody. for some reason, it would sting way more than his words.

"everytime you open your mouth, i am physically resisting the urge to push you off a cliff!" you seethed, shutting the cutlery drawer with an unnecessary amount of force. the knives and forks clattered inside loudly, filling the communal kitchen with an unpleasant noise.

"what makes you think you could?" Mydei snapped back, perhaps hoping to intimidate you. in answer, you cocked your head to the side, granting him with an unaffected look.

"just a guess, but you’re not very likable, are you?" you swiftly changed the topic, knowing that pushing him off a cliff was certainly impossible, and you had no arguments to back up your homicidal idea. "even your own people seem to—"

his eyebrows narrowed dangerously, clear indication you were walking on thin ice. "you’re not exactly popular around here, either." he interrupted, "you’re just a nurse, gods know from where—"

"just a nurse?!"

"—and nobody seems to take you seriously-"

"you’re foolish if you think i care about the opinion of other’s, especially yours!"

"well, maybe you should start to, because—"

"you think yourself mighty, huh? not everyone’s gonna be—"

"—i have a very good advice! pack your things, get out of Okhema, and as far—"

"—kissing your feet and worshipping the ground you walk on! unlike most people, i—"

"—as i am concerned, no one would miss you!"

"—actually have eyes and i’m capable of recognizing a cowardly bastard!"

you both kept screaming over each other, interrupting, and snarling as the packet of sugar between your fingers seemed close to ripping in half from the amount of tugging it faced. it was a conflict you could easily resolve, yet you seemed to ignore the fact. why share the sugar when you could fight for it instead?

every single one of your days in the holy city looked like that, filled with the sound of biting teeth and roars of anger. if you avoided the clashes, Mydei wouldn’t perceive you as someone worthy of recognition (and you needed to be, you had to make his life harder for the way he was treating you). if you ran, he’d laugh about it with others, saying how easy to scare off you were.

you could try to justify the reasons why you stayed, but at the end of the day, one answer resonated profoundly in the back of your mind — you wanted to prove it didn’t hurt.

"hey, would you two—"

"what?!" you yelled in unison, your necks snapping towards the innocent Phainon who stood in the doorframe of the kitchen, a bit shocked. you didn’t even notice when the sugar package torn in half, its contents pouring all over the floor.

"…keep it down." he finished with utter disappointment, his weary eyes taking in the mess you both made. "look, now because of your petty arguments the sugar is wasted."

Mydei measured you with his fierce gaze, and you did the same. the air got heavy with tension once more as you stared at each other with murderous intent, mulling over whichever insults would be the best this time. Phainon gripped the bridge of his nose with silent resignation, knowing the unavoidable screaming match was going to erupt once more.

"you clean it up!" you bursted out, pointing towards the sugar-covered tiles.

"no, you clean it up, you imbeci—!"

"why would i? i wanted the sugar first, and you started to—"

"what?! no, i put my hands on it first!"

"gods, you’re insufferable! that’s not how it—"

Phainon shook his head, closing the kitchen door with a loud thud. you paid no mind to him, way too occupied by your quarrel. even from the halls, he could still hear the distant shouting, and began to wonder how long it’ll take before someone loses their mind.

the arguments you shared varied on the scale of severity. one time they were closer to a bicker, and everyone was grateful that at least you didn’t want to kill each other. a few hours later the clamor was back on, and wouldn’t stop until you both got fed up. it mattered little whether the cause of your argument was serious, or no — you’d still put your everything into those screams. if someone told you that everyday you’d be having an altercation with the crown prince of Kremnos — be it about who gets the last sugar packet, or who is more of a pathetic-foolish-wrongdoer — you wouldn’t believe them.

it is said that soulties can make you feel emotions tenfold. sorrow, anger, joy, love. it only applied towards one’s soulmate, but could be destructive nonetheless. it can either make you more infatuated, or cause you to regret ever meeting them. you surely identified with the latter.

exactly one year passed before your relationship with Mydeimos took… a slightly off-track route.

it was pretty obvious that you and him were at your wits ends, and bearing any more of that would lead you both astray. each day, you prayed to whoever was willing to listen, begging for this nightmarish charade to finally end. countless days spent on either bawling your eyes out, or tearing your throat as you screamed in frustration were making you more than exhausted. wicked satisfaction coming from making Mydei’s existence harder was meek, and the constant headaches drove you up the wall. you felt trapped — perhaps you truly were. dark shadows hanging low under the man’s eyes were a clear indication he felt the same. still, no matter how much you tried to stay separated, the nature of soulmates was unavoidable. a bond, no matter how dire, once created wouldn’t be able to break. it could only progress further, and when you realized that you were practically attached by the hip, your heart sank low. did you really have no way of breaking free in this dystopian world? nowadays, even your own thoughts seemed to betray you. whenever you crossed the line with Mydei and said too much, guilt would follow you around like a stray dog. a dog from what? the nether, most likely. a vicious, snarling hound, gnawing at your bones, only to lick the marrow with apology in its bottomless eyes.

a tug of war. that’s the best way you could describe it.

as always, the sun hung high on the horizon, and even though you liked to think of yourself as accustomed to the holy city’s climate, it still took a toll on you. you decided to open the window, hoping the fresh breeze would make you feel better. it did, even if just a little. you sighed in relief, smiling to yourself as you watched children playing outside of your surgery’s window. they seemed so carefree, falling and instantly getting up, unable to pay any attention to their scraped knees as the whirl of fun distracted them from pain. this sight brought distant memories, buried somewhere deep within your mind. once, you were like them too — running around the fields, covered in dirt and grass until your mother would finally drag you home, and lecture how dangerous it was to stray so far away. when was the last time you thought about that? life in the holy city stripped you away from all that was once dear. never ending conflicts and problems piling upon one another, forcing you to push back any comfort left.

you prayed that those children would never have to bear such burdens, even though it was nigh impossible to avoid.

as you continued to brood, someone opened the door. your head snapped towards the direction of the sound, immediately recognizing the silhouette. your brows furrowed as you tore yourself off from the windowsill, stepping a bit closer to the man. it was an extremely rare occurrence — him visiting you out of his own volition, that is. you sent him a cautious look, feeling a tinge of anxiety rise up in your gut. you were having such a good day, and now he probably came to ruin it, likely out of boredom. you already opened your mouth to chase him away, but before you could say anything his voice resonated through the room.

"what?" Mydei asked, as if your expression offended him, "can’t i visit our physician?" the man’s words were phrased like one of his usual sarcastic remarks, making your brow twitch.

your frown deepened slightly as you continued to study him with intent eyes. something was obviously off. "well, why’re you here then?"

at that, Mydei paused. his gaze jumped around the room, and he appeared a bit conflicted. it was unlike him to be caught off guard like that, but he came to you - obviously he had a goal in mind, yet now he refused to voice his thoughts. perhaps his pride didn’t allow him to. if it was anybody else you’d be already on the case, sitting them down and coercing into admitting their troubles. however, this was Mydei, and you were adamant about helping him. you stood there, tapping your foot as you scrutinized him, waiting for the man to finally say something.

before your patience managed to reach its limit, his voice once again tore through the silence. "i want you to cast healing energy on me."

you barely stopped your burst of laughter caused by the absurdity of his demand. seriously, come again? he seemed completely fine, standing straight and still managing to get on your nerves. if it wasn’t the picture of health, then you definitely didn’t know what it was. anyway, since when did he experience any kind of pains? Mydei was able to take blows effortlessly and live through fatal wounds, and now he was asking you to waste your time on him. was it to ridicule you?

"you’re joking, right?" you put your hands on your hips, restraining yourself from making any unnecessary comments. for whatever reason, you didn’t feel like fighting today. truthfully, you never did.

"is it really so unbelievable to you, [name]?" the man scoffed, taking few long strides towards the medical bed, "and you dare call yourself a physician." he taunted, a crooked smirk stretching his lips.

Mydei sat heavily, making the bed creak dangerously under the sudden pressure - you winced, hoping it wouldn’t break. you could feel your blood pressure rising, but you clenched your teeth in order to keep any remarks behind them. no, you won’t allow him to get a rise out of you. not today.

"alright, let’s assume something is genuinely wrong with you. what is it?"

another prolonged pause. the only sound filling the space was distant laughter and ticking of the clock hanging on one of the walls. it was arguably worse than listening to Aglaea’s scoldings.

"must you always ask such stupid questions? get to work, or i’ll make sure you bid goodbye to your little workplace tomorrow morning." after a while of contemplation Mydei snarled, visibly annoyed by your questions. it’s something he often did - threaten you. he rarely pulled off any of his promises, but they still made your mind stir with anxieties. if you could, you’d take a basin filled with water and forcibly dip his head inside until he finally lost consciousness. an unrealistic vision it was, because before you’d manage to get a handful of his golden locks, he would have already knocked the water out of your hands and laughed at your poor attempts.

why did you keep putting up with him, even though you were fed up beyond reason?

(grief-stricken people seek resolve).

"at least i wouldn’t need to look at your face everyday," you snapped back, closing the distance between you two, "tell me what’s bothering you, or i won’t cast anything."

it’s not like you cared — you genuinely didn’t, but you wouldn’t be effective unless you knew where the problem was rooted. spreading energy through the whole body was always pretty demanding, so you’d rather focus on one specific spot. you waited for Mydei’s response, but upon receiving none, you sighed with defeat. you throughly washed your hands with soap (something unpleasant crawled up your spine as you felt his eyes fixated on you the whole time), and stepped behind the bed. the sooner he leaves, the better.

you usually announced whenever you started to cast your energy, as the feeling at first was often akin to a slight shock. this time however, you firmly put your hands on his back and surged all of it at once, wanting to capture his jolty reaction. unsurprisingly, Mydei didn’t do anything other than gaze at the floor tiles with a bored look. how come things never turned out the way you wanted? with a little more fervor, you moved your hands towards the nape of his neck. your fingers twitched as you imagined curling them around his throat, cutting out the oxygen — but soon you turned down the vision. you weren’t always like this - this aggressive, and violent. what were you even thinking? Mydei was the bane of your existence, but it’s not like he deserved to suffer.

(or maybe he did?)

your brows narrowed together as you forced the intrusive thoughts out of your mind space. you were a medic, damn it—

"are you doing this on purpose, or what?" he murmured, slightly turning his face to look at you from the corner of his eye. you blinked twice, not understanding what he was referring to. "i mean breathing so hard on my neck. stop it."

you almost retracted your hands, suddenly feeling a mixture of embarrassment and ire. you didn’t even realize that your breaths got so labored, and much to your chagrin, you had no witty response to offer. with a heavy heart, you continued to move your palms around the man’s back, trying to find out yourself where his pains were located. finally, when you stopped around the shoulder blades, Mydei’s muscles seemed to relax at last, even if just a little bit.

"does it hurt here?" you asked absentmindedly, focusing on the flow of energy escaping your fingers.

being so gentle with someone who would never do the same to you felt almost disgusting. but you weren’t wicked at heart, and it was your job to put people at ease instead of furthering their misery. your mother would never approve of causing harm, no matter if the patient was especially awful.

Mydei nodded in response, his back hunching. you took that as a 'yes', continuing to heal. after about three minutes you were done, and the man got up from his seat, stretching his limbs as if he just woke up from a long slumber. you worked your expression into something more unpleasant, worried that if he saw the softened look on your face he might mock you for it.

"we’re done now, so get out of my face." you announced bluntly, the tone of your voice turning harsher than before.

he didn’t even spare you a glance as he walked towards the exit. "i don’t feel any difference. you’re awful at this, [name]." Mydei answered, shutting the door with a loud 'thud!'.

you stood there for a longer while, contemplating whether you should run after the man and choke him like you wanted to earlier. you ultimately abandoned that idea, instead sitting back into the chair and cradling your head with your hands. you hated Mydei. not because he was horrible, but rather because you still were somehow able of being delicate with him. why? how was that physically possible? bodies respond to spite with stronger reactions that yours — if your hatred was real, you wouldn’t even let him into your surgery in the first place.

that dreadful thought would haunt you for the next two years, everyday.

normally, you wouldn’t even dare to reminiscence about such things, but the dull taste of cauliflower made you think of equally terrible recollections. during the second year of your stay in Okhema, things took the turn for worse, and the unpleasant sensation on your tongue made all of your memories resurface.

the drastic shift in the air definitely felt like a thunder’s roar, at least in retrospection. soulmates are a complex thing, and even though they play a very significant role in people’s lives, the research on them is surprisingly lacking. alas, one thing is for sure — there is no turning back. the same applied to yours and Mydei’s case, the feelings of odium soon melting into something more conflicted. he was - much to your dismay - occupying your mind all the time. of course you would think of him earlier on, however back then it definitely got out of hand. constant questions plagued your already fatigued brain, forcing you to seek him out. you did nothing but argue, or huff and scoff at each other, but somehow it put you at ease. a certain sense of twisted familiarity. it worked both ways, unfortunately, and whenever you got busy with work, he’d still come bustling through your door. sometimes you’d fight, other times he’d ramble about things that got on his nerves, and you listened. you started to rely on him — apparently the same happened to Mydei, as Phainon often pointed out how agitated he got whenever you got separated for too long.

you never acknowledged the change in your behavior. it came naturally, just like sun peeks from behind the clouds after rain. your stormy relationship didn’t exactly calm down — Phainon still complained about the noise you two would make, and Castorice winced whenever you both appeared in the same room. mayhem followed in your wake, but at least Mydei stopped his constant threats on your person, and you spared the plates you oh-so-loved throwing at his head (even though he always avoided every single one of them).

what didn’t stop however, was the feeling of going crazy. hatred, spite and agitation took the nightmarish shape of obsession. alienation shook your bones whenever you tried forming any other meaningful connections, and your thoughts always sprinted back to the only question in your head: "where is Mydei?".

more often than not, you felt as if you completely lost yourself. the promises you made to your own self — to run far away from that man, never looking back — it all seemed so distant now. two years of mental exhaustion made your perception crooked, and everything seemed wrong. sometimes you’d wake up and look around, feeling as if someone moved the furniture in your surgery. it wasn’t rearranged, no, but the placement was off by a few inches. the same feeling of unease would creep up on you whenever you thought about how cruelly you betrayed yourself.

Mydeimos was important to you. coming to terms with that fact was hard, and the unfathomable hurt of it was almost comparable to when you cradled your mother’s terrifyingly bony hands in yours. two completely different situations, yet you still felt as if they shared a common ground — your downfall. it will continue to torment you, until your body will finally be lowered in a casket.

the worst part is, you still don’t know whether you genuinely lost your mind, or if the soultie effect caused it.

everything is changing. everything is getting worse. Phainon payed you a visit today, and he was talking about something, yet you couldn’t recall what it was. you gave him some tea — he said it was the best he had in a long time. you wanted to believe him, but the way his lips stretched in unnaturally cordial smile indicated otherwise. you couldn’t blame him though, as the brew was prepared with health-prosperity in mind. you could put a few sugar cubes inside, but it would defeat its original purpose.

the conversation between you and him didn’t stick, and you felt awkward. when you first got into the holy city, Phainon was definitely someone you would call a friend. he secured you a good job and a place to live, and would always try cheering you up. right now, there was an invisible wall separating you both. you could see no way around it.

"so, uhh, [name]," he began after a long pause, putting down the elegant cup back on the table, "Mydei was asking about you. i told him you were busy with work, so that he wouldn’t bother you." Phainon let out an unsure chuckle, carefully observing your expression.

you hummed in acknowledgment, taking a sip of your herbal drink. "good thing you did, else i’d have to put up with that man for gods know how long."

the image of Mydei walking unceremoniously into your surgery, and starting to pick at you made your skin crawl. you’d pick at him too, spewing insults left and right. you’d push him to the limits, watching the man come undone in front of your own eyes before the conversation would turn into a screaming match. then, you’d calm down. he’d stare at the tiles again, counting, and you would fall onto your chair with a resigned sigh. Mydei would eventually apologize, and you’d smile at him. it sounded terrible, no?

(yet you still yearned for it, the equal ruin).

Phainon laughed genuinely now, and you had to admit that happiness looked great on him. as of late, he seemed more worried than usual.

"well, i’m glad you approve of my decisions. you two really don’t get along, do you?" he mused, his gaze now trailing over to the window. perhaps the sights outside were more interesting than your face.

"no, no we don’t." you admitted in a weak voice, even though you didn’t want to sound so unconvinced. what was there to deny? someone once compared you and Mydei to two tigers — you didn’t catch on it until later, when you realized those animals were prone to killing each other in fights to death. that person was on point, much to your chagrin.

when you were unable of adding anything else to your lacking sentence, you thought it would be better for you to spend time with some other people. perhaps then you’d relearn what it means to be a normal, functioning human instead of a husk who only could spew and clash.

"oh, look at the time [name]!" Phainon suddenly called out, getting up a little bit too fast from his seat. "Aglaea wanted to see with me, and i don’t want to be late." he explained vaguely as you sent him a perplexed look, also standing up.

"a-alright then." you stammered out, taken aback by his rapid reaction. maybe he got bored, and came up with an excuse on the spot. "see you soon?"

"yeah, see you soon." he sent you a slightly nervous smile before walking out of the door. you watched him disappear, the surgery once more filled up with silence. you gazed at his barely touched tea, and decided to pour it out in the sink.

as you were doing that, you heard the distinctive footsteps outside. you didn’t even get the chance to turn around before Mydei walked through the entrance, that ever-present scowl on his face deeper than usual. you carefully placed down the cup, afraid of breaking it. it was your favorite, and you couldn’t afford to lose anything else dear to your heart, even if it was only porcelain.

"so that’s what you were busy with, huh?" the man asked, his tone low as he stepped closer to you. at first you didn’t understand what he meant, but after a second everything clicked. Phainon lied to him on your account, and then managed to spot him through your window. he left in hurry, thinking that Mydei discovering you both would only cause more problems. your heart clenched at his consideration as you observed the man with narrowed eyes.

"are you insinuating something?" you hissed, feeling the tension in the air arise with every second. "who are you to tell me what to do anyway? go find someone else to bully, because i’m really not in the mood for your bullshit."

"no, i’m not insinuating anything," he replied, venom practically dripping from his words, "i simply find it hilarious that you thought you could deceive me like that. do i look stupid to you, [name]?"

you couldn’t help the huff of irritation escaping your lungs as you looked around yourself, almost bewildered. Mydei seldom acted like that — yes, he was an absolute pain, however he has never outwardly shown his disapproval of you meeting with others. you didn’t even like Phainon in a romantic sense, and you never would. to think that this man came to such a conclusion was baffling, especially when you two weren’t even in a relationship.

"deceive you? are you crazy?" you barked out, spreading your arms apart, "you’re acting absurdly, Mydei! do you think i’m your possession, or something? you always seem to talk about how much you despise me, and yet here you are, ordering me around as you see fit!"

"it’s because—" the man paused, as if searching for the best words, long fingers woving through his hair. "you’re driving me mad, [name]! can’t you see? can’t you see what you’ve done?!" he shouted, making you want to take a step back. instead, you boldly rendered the distance between you two.

insanity. the slow descent into pits of human destruction kept dragging him down — perhaps you were much lower than Mydei, gripping his ankles and pulling — or maybe you were above, waving at the man, beckoning him to crawl out. as things were standing now, you were equal in your devastation.

"why are you blaming me?! go blame yourself, you lunatic!" you seethed, grabbing something from the drawer beside you. you paid no attention to the item in your hand, your sight focused solely on Mydei.

why do things between you always have to escalate at such a quick rate? sometimes you felt as if you were treading above an active volcano, where one wrong move could lead to a rapid eruption. you thought of yourself as the victim, and that much was foolish, as you were deeply aware you and him were both lava, and nothing else.

when Mydei failed to snap back in time, you decided to provoke him some more. "what, maybe you’re just jealous? it definitely sounds like that to me." you sneered, but the thought seemed horrifyingly real.

"why would i be jealous of someone like you?" he retaliated, even though the false denial in his expression was obvious, "look at yourself! you think that little cup will do me any harm? you must be really slow of mind." he laughed mockingly at the weapon you gripped in the palm of your hand.

to this day, you still don’t know what pushed you to such extreme. maybe it had something to do with soulties, or you were simply becoming what you’ve always hated. still, the already weakened strings which previously held your sanity together seemed to snap, and no amounts of regret could fix it.

"want to see for yourself?" you didn’t wait for the man’s response, shattering the porcelain across your tiled floor. you immediately bent down to reach for the biggest fragment, cutting yourself in the process, though you cared little for the stinging pain in your fingertips.

possessed by anger that only someone literally tied to your soul could evoke, you surged towards Mydeimos, aiming at his throat. he wouldn’t die, but the few minutes of him coughing up blood and gripping his own slashed neck would be enough to satiate you. you didn’t care that after his recovery, he’d likely kill you. leading such a life carried no sense within anyway.

("you are a medic, my sweet girl. your job is to save people, and make them happy. isn’t that a wonderful vocation? make your mother proud. i’m sure you can”).

Mydei gripped your wrists as you flailed your limbs, struggling against his strength. you kicked at his shin, your foot meeting with the golden metal, and you cursed yourself for forgetting it was there in the first place. a sickening whine of pain ripped from your throat as you realized that even if he unhanded you, letting you do as you please, you still wouldn’t be able to hurt him. after all, how could you?

the force of your efforts made you both stumble down and crash onto the hard floor, littered with sharp pieces of the cup. you felt the breath get knocked out of your chest as you gazed up at the man with wide, terrified eyes. warm blood trickled down your hand, and only then you realized just how deeply you wounded yourself. tears fogged over your vision as dry cries began to jerk your body.

(why do grief-stricken people seek resolve?)

(because they have nothing).

"i’m—" you sobbed, your voice trembling as you looked at Mydei’s equally shaken expression, "i’m so sorry! i’m so very, very sorry!" you wailed, letting go of the porcelain fragment, hearing it clatter on the ground. the man slowly released your wrists from his grasp, still hovering above you.

"stop it, [name]. i went overboard this time. you don’t have to apologize." his voice was uncharacteristically doleful as he observed your face, measuring the amount of tears with downcast eyes.

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. you could lie to yourself and pretend like you had genuine friends here, in Okhema— but at the end of the day, Mydei was all you had left. there was no one else. he wasn’t your home, but he was the only one who managed to stomp out the loneliness from your heart. you hated each other to the bone, and yet you still held your bodies on that cold floor, surrounded by nothing but muffled sobbing.

you were not violent. you were kindhearted, and warm, and you never would’ve thought of doing such things, however now all of it seemed repressed somewhere else. Mydei — no, perhaps entirety of the holy city — caused your breath to stop. you wished to view him in repulsion, but for gods’ sake, you knew you could not. once the summer sun will extinguish your being, up until the last cloud of smoke, you’ll be thinking of him. the soulmate mark stretching from your knuckles to wrist hurt. a pulsating kind of pain, reminding you it was still there, and you couldn’t forsake it.

"i’m so sorry…" you choked out, pressing your face into his shoulder.

"don’t be."

"i— i never meant to harm you, i just—"

"i know."

your hands gripped Mydei’s clothes, the blood from your cut already seeping over his previously clean attire and body. he didn’t seem to care, stroking fingers through your hair in attempt of showing any semblance of comfort (could he ever offer it?). you searched for something meaningful to say, but your thoughts narrowed to only one thing.

it was your favorite cup.

you chewed on the piece of meat with a twisted expression, the scar still visible between your fingers and the palm. sometimes it would itch, making it utterly irritating. the sounds of the swords clashing outside seemed to quiet down, now replaced by idle chatter. you were almost finished with your meal, and the time on the clock was indicating near evening. the day was coming to an end.

just like the food in your mouth, tasting rotten even though it looked completely fine, by the third year of your stay in Okhema things suddenly simmered down (wreck of your mind remained). the storm was no longer, thunders and lightning turning into whirlwind — still unpredictable and very much able to cause harm, but a bit more subtle. leading a war for three years straight would humble everyone, even the most capable warriors. for that, you were grateful.

the scorching sun no longer bothered you, and with enough savings you managed to buy yourself a place somewhere further from your surgery. now you didn’t have to reside in the small space, sleeping on medical bed and pretending like being caged there was no problem for you. this change brought you a certain peace of heart, as you regained at least a small piece of your independence.

as for you and Mydei — you still continued with your usual routine, although a bit less fierce. even though you never touched upon the topic, it seemed as if you shared a collective agreement that snapping your teeth at each other’s gullets brought you no good. it never did, but it took you both three years to realize.

now as you stuffed your mouth with some more vegetables, you wondered if Mydei possessed any redeeming qualities. if he didn’t, then you surely would have lost your mind a long time ago. after a short while of brooding, you came up with a verdict — he did. after that incident, it seemed like you started to notice more things. it’s not like you didn’t before, but perhaps you were buried too deep within your own sorrow to actually pay attention. the man wasn’t always awful. there were certain moments when you found common ground, and actually got along. though rare, the soultie progressed, and you felt as if some kind of understanding between you two formed.

after all, he was your soulmate, wasn’t he?

you sat down on the ridge of a big fountain, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. the weather was nice for a change, skies colored with a mesmerizing hue of yellow as the rain stopped pouring a few minutes ago. your clothes were soaked, but that didn’t matter, the cool on your body soothing you. you had a hard time at work today, so you wished for nothing more but a moment of rest — alas, it seemed like the universe wanted to mock you some more.

"look who we have here." a booming voice came from your right making you jump up, even though you were all-too-well accustomed to its sound. "what, don’t tell me you got caught up in the rain?"

"Mydei, give me a break…" you groaned, rubbing at your temples. he was the reason why you had to sweat so much today, and the mere sight of his face already made your blood pressure skyrocket. "are you aware you’re the reason why so many people came to me today?"

from what you’ve gathered, some fools decided it would be a great idea to spar with the Kremnoan prince. nobody wanted to admit to being the originator of the concept, though Phainon appeared especially nervous. you decided against pressuring him into speaking, as he was already injured enough. while you tended to the wounds, sewing the broken skin and putting gauzes to them, everyone kept murmuring one word: 'Mydeimos.' yes, that definitely made sense.

"it’s their fault for being overly-confident." he huffed, sitting down beside you, his eyes fixated on two birds jumping cheerily in a puddle. "if you’re not at least slightly afraid of your opponent, of course you’ll underestimate them, and fail. a pathetic mistake."

"well," you began, stretching out your legs as you captured his expression from the corner of your eye, "i’m not afraid of you at all. does that make me pathetic?"

even though your words sounded a bit exaggerated, it was the truth. throughout all of your fallouts and vicious arguments with Mydei, there was never a time where you were genuinely scared. maybe of yourself — but not of him. over the time you have learned to trust your gut, and right now it was telling you that your soulmate wasn’t a threat. yes, he throughly enjoyed making your existence filled with various anxieties and hardships, but did he ever rise a hand at you? you tried to literally slit his throat, and yet he didn’t even look offended, meanwhile most people would have strangled you unconscious.

his eyebrows rose slightly as he turned his face towards you. "is that so?” he didn’t seem to believe you, doubt arising in the honeyed irises.

"yeah," a humorless, dry chuckle escaped your lips as you studied the look he carried with great attention, "the sun will go out before i’m truly afraid of you. i have no reason to, anyway."

perhaps you should have reasons, because one of Mydei’s glares was enough to render someone unmoving. you watched him fight before, and the enemies seemed to be nothing but mere rag-dolls to him. a mentally-sound person would be trembling in respect before him — unfortunately for you, you were far from that, hence why you had to put up with all of the shouting and arguments.

"how can you be so sure, [name]?" Mydei mocked, but his comment lacked in real bite. it fell as something lighthearted on your ears, urging you to continue.

"if you really wanted to harm me, i’d be beheaded by the time i first threw a plate at you." that evoked a poorly contained snicker from him, and you couldn’t help but smile along. "and you’re… you’re not a bad person, Mydei— at least i don’t think so. bad people don’t play with children, nor do they bake pastries in their free time."

Mydei looked at you as if you just offended his whole lineage, way too dumbfounded to respond. you shook your head, an involuntary huff of laughter slipping past your lips as you took in his baffled expression. "you thought i wouldn’t notice?"

"well— well, obviously—" he forced the words out, struggling to compose a proper sentence, utterly embarrassed. "Phainon must have told you, right? he must have. oh, when i get my hands on that little—"

Phainon didn’t tell you anything. it’s just that after three years of knowing someone, people usually become aware of such things. you vividly remember Mydei playing hide and seek with a group of Kremnoan children, even if a little begrudgingly. it was one year ago, and Krateros asked you to relay some informations upon him. you can’t quite recall what it was, but you remember it being grim — normally you wouldn’t care, but it somehow made you feel somber. you didn’t want to ruin Mydei’s moment of peace, so you simply stood behind a pillar, watching the man count down as kids ran around trying to find the best hiding spot. after a while you departed, thinking it would be best to tell him later.

the other thing — precisely speaking, his baking hobby — you discovered by accident. after a long working day, you spotted Castorice and Tribbie eating something. you didn’t mean to stare, but they eventually noticed your longing gaze and invited you to sit with them. it was rare for you to share a meal with anyone, so you gratefully accepted one of the profiteroles. it was delicious, and the girls giggled at the way your eyes lit up. Tribbie explained those were a gift from 'De', as they liked to affectionately call him. you were surprised to hear that, and even thought about using that as a leverage in one of your many arguments, but eventually abandoned the idea. it wasn’t a bad activity. actually, you found it quite endearing, as far as your positive feelings towards Mydei could go.

you sighed, looking up at the yellow sky as you pleaded the gods for more patience - then, you focused back on the man. "Phainon didn’t tell me, and i don’t perceive any of those things as something you should be ashamed of. they’re good qualities. at least i know you still have a heart, Mydeimos." you grumbled, rolling your eyes.

his features seemed to relax a bit, as if the cause of his stress was based solely on your opinion. "well, aren’t you the sweetest." he murmured, a bit dryly.

you hummed in response, watching Mydei suddenly turn his face away from you, his expression obscured by the blonde locks. before you could say anything else, he pulled himself up, and started to walk away. for a second, you contemplated whether you should call after him, but decided to keep your mouth shut. it was rare for you both to share a conversation so civilized, without any crude remarks or insults. you didn’t want to ruin it for yourself, so you watched his silhouette slowly fade into the crowd of people.

and that was it. sometimes, you’d pace around your room and wonder whether you held any love for him. somewhere, in the deepest corners of your soul, the answer perhaps lied. you would have to dissect your body over and over again, searching for it, until you’d finally find the core — oozing with the venom of a rattlesnake, covered in wildflower petals. being in love, what does it feel like? were you even capable of it?

your scorched mind couldn’t grasp the concept, so you decided to leave it unanswered. even though you yearned for it — even if you wanted to catch it like a butterfly, gently nursing against the palms of your hands. contradictions are an inevitable part of the human nature. soulmates were a curse of sorts, and nowadays it seemed as if you were close to giving in. remaining hellbent took a toll on you, and the line between "surrender" and "acceptance" started to blur. still, you would never forget the torment he brought upon you. Mydei won’t forsake the thousands of your spiteful actions either, their ever-presence hovering just a few steps behind.

in a metaphorical sense, it seemed as if you both were constantly throwing up on each other. reduced from humans to mere specimens, created only to claw at one another’s throats, and then crawl back into the warm embrace as the bloody wounds made your bodies shake with cries. nothing less, nothing more.

the fork in your hand scraped against the ceramic material, forming an unpleasant sound. there was nothing left on your plate. the disgusting dinner gone, replaced with smudges of sauce and vegetable scrapes. you frowned when you suddenly heard the knocking on your door, characteristic enough for you to recognize who was standing behind them. you placed the dish onto your desk, sitting back on the bed. usually you’d be stomping to the door, ready for another clash, vicious words already on your tongue. however, now all of your bared teeth was gone. nothing made sense, and you were worn.

"come in." you called, smoothing out your attire from any wrinkles.

the door opened slowly, and a second later you were already facing Mydei. you sent him a questioning look, taking notice of his slightly slumped form. did he injure himself while sparing? no, that wasn’t possible. you observed him carefully, waiting, trying to deduce what the issue was. maybe those annoying pains were getting to him again.

"i was looking for you." he announced, his tone depraved of any kind of ire he’d still sometimes grace you with.

"you know i’m usually at my place during evening hours." you replied, your eyebrows narrowing together. "did something happen?"

"no." Mydei sighed, taking a few steps forwards. "i just wanted to see you, [name]."

you sent him a chary smile, noting the unabashed tone of his voice. honestly, it took you by surprise, but somehow you understood what he meant. it was always like that — you wished to never talk to him again, yet you felt as if you were conjoined.

(grief-stricken people seek resolve, as they have nothing — and once it’s caught by their fangs, they won’t let go, no matter how much pain it brings in its wake).

Mydei’s expression was a little absent, stripped from the usual high-awareness. "you seem tired." a soft mutter left your lips as you gently grabbed his fingers and tugged towards you, wondering whether he was getting enough sleep.

"maybe a bit." he admitted, kneeling by the side of your bed and wrapping his arms around your waist. you let him without any hesitation, watching as he put his head on your lap.

moments of intimacy were not a part of your everyday life, however there were times when one of you would unravel and lean on the other person. humans needed connection. they needed touch, warmth, affection. those were things you’d never use to describe the relationship with your soulmate, yet you couldn’t resist the sparse comfort when offered.

Mydeimos was much nicer to you in your head. your conversations didn’t usually go as planned. sometimes, when you felt the side of his face press into your neck as you let your healing energy flow through his spine, you dwelled on things he harbored within his heart. after you were done, he’d retract his body away from yours and send you a fleeting glance, filled with grudges and dismay. you’d scowl back, thinking how nice it would be to never see him again.

you ran your fingers through his golden locks, feeling at how soft they were in contrast to their owner. whenever the man got tired — genuinely tired — he’d always become so docile. the rise and fall of his chest was meek, and you would’ve thought he wasn’t breathing at all if you didn’t look closer. the same hands that ripped his enemies apart were now cradling you, as if your body was made out of glass. all the hatred and rage was gone, replaced by silent agreement to let this moment last before you’d be back to spitting at each other.

Mydei never opened up to you. you didn’t know what he went through in the past — all the horrors and trauma shaping him into who he was now. it must have taken a lot of effort to stay gentle, at least in a certain way, hidden away from the eyes of others. you leaned down, watching his relaxed face as you trailed over the tear-shaped tattoo with your intent gaze. when you felt Mydei press himself further into your lap, one conclusion appeared clearer than anything you managed to deduce throughout those three years of bloodborne struggles.

no matter what, all wolves dream of being a dog.

#mydei x reader #OH MY GODDD #favorite #this is insanely good #like I was kicking and screaming reading this JUST FROM THE FOUNTAIN SCENE?!?#why does this not have over a thousand notes?!?#I’d love a part 2 honestly 3 years in and their relationship is finally a bit more civil #gosh that soft moment at the fountains he totally was blushing wasn’t he #MAKE HER SOME SNACKS TOO SHE LOVES YOUR COOKING #AAAAAA that softness at the end #I DID NOT EXPECT THATTT #oh gosh your honor this gave me butterfly feelings #I wonder how Aglaea feels about the concept of soulmates given she’s the Romance titan coreflame holder and her thoughts on those two #Phainon is as always the best I’d fall for him tbh if he wasn’t such a liar who hides their emotions like it’ll kill him to be honest #Mydei and reader immediately getting ready to throw hands ON SIGHT is so peak and perfect #they’re toxic but they’re getting there #I imagine it’s because of Mydei’s immortal condition that he doesn’t want to subjugate either the reader nor himself with the inevitable?#I hope you write a continuation if it strikes your fancy!#omg Rihanna’s Breaking Dishes song is EXACTLY fitting for the reader #IM BREAKING DISHES UP IN HERE - ALL NIGHT UH HUH - I AINT GONNA STOP TILL I SEE (Phainon) POLICE LIGHTS UHUH - IMMA FIGHT A MAN TONIGHT!#IMMA FIGHT A MAN TONIGHT - A MAN - A MAN - A MA-A-A-N!!#really really good 10/10 well done #Mydeimos x reader #My fallen prince can’t possibly be this cute!

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screampied · 6 months ago

Text

JUNO, YOU KNOW! k. nanami

☆ sum. last thing nanami would expect was to get struck by a “fatal” love curse during the very end of no nut november. you tease him even more by saying one of you is cute….but two though?

wc. 8.1k

warnings. fem! reader, husband! nanami, unprotected, sēx pollen, mentions of pregnancy, fluffy smut <3, handcuffs, brēeding, cunnīlingus, him finishing too quick, cowgirl, praise, soft dom! nanami, cērvix mentions, size kink, he's soooo whipped n in love w youuu, (bless his dad's genetics), boob obsessed nanami, aftercare, petnames.

an. my entry for @luv-lies's yummy nnn collab! ❤︎

november 29th, 2024. 6:09 P.M.

december was right around the corner - but oh, was nanami kento fuckin’ screwed.

“nanamin!” satoru—his colleague hollered, speedily rushing over to him. they’d just defeated an unarmed A-cursed spirit unlike any they’d ever seen before. it was quite strong, but it was nothing the pair couldn’t handle. satoru glances down, extending out his hand. nanami grunts, swiping a hand over his sweat-glossed forehead before sighing. he’s a bit roughed up but takes satoru’s cold palm with an irked grumble. “you alright? that was quite the hard hit.”

“ ‘m fine, gojo,” he grouses, readjusting his glasses. with a swift hand, he fixes his crooked tie. “just hah- underestimated the opponent. don’t fret.”

he wasn’t ‘just fine’ though. nanami felt his entire body starting to arise with scorching temperature within a matter of seconds. he’s boiling hot- and it felt like his heart was pounding straight out of his chest. perplexed, satoru furrows a snowy brow at his comrade once he notices his awkward body language.

“what do you need? tell me- maybe we can-”

nanami was clenching his chest with one hand, panting heavily before letting off a raspy huff.

“i need . . my wife.”

the car ride home was silent.

satoru offered to take him home, wondering just what really happened. nanami was as stubborn as a mule though, so he didn’t question it further. he’d rather not get scolded. his head rests against the tented window as he stares outside.

driving through the rutted bumpy roads of tokyo, nanami’s droopy eyes occasionally drifted away from the bright street lights that merely blinded his naked eye from gazing a bit too long.

as usual, the city was packed, dozens of cars zooming by with the flashy beaming store signs. in the background, some random song was playing. it was pop—and of course, satoru was loudly humming along to the catchy poppy melody.

the lyrics were quite . . vulgar though, but nanami still remained quiet, focusing his eyes on the streets.

skrrrrrrrt!

satoru’s breaks eventually come to a stop. it was about maybe a good ten-minute drive and he arrived at you and nanami’s cozy minka. the light was on so he assumed you were probably still up. placing the rusty shift in the park, the white-haired sorcerer turns to nanami with a cheeky grin.

“take it easy, alright? ‘m sure the curse will wear off at some point,” and nanami scoffs once his palm pats his shoulder. reaching for his seatbelt, the blond click it off before unlocking the door. “oh! and tell your wifey i said hi!”

“sure thing, gojo.” nanami stops himself from rolling his eyes, reaching near the backseat to retrieve his dusty suitcase. with a loud vroooom, satoru’s aqua-blue convertible takes off and nanami starts to make his way toward the door.

glancing down, he fishes for his keys in his pocket, grumbling under his breath.

god- he feels so damn hot. even hotter than when the attack occurred..

was this supposed to be normal?

all he knew was that he wanted, no- he needed you.

something in his body . . whatever it was, was direly aching for you.

the entire car ride, nanami’s mind was entirely flooded with thoughts of you, you, and only you.

whenever he had missions, he’d always think about you, sure. but this time- this time was far, far different.

he felt like he was gonna melt right away if he didn’t touch you, if he didn’t smell you-

“ken…to?” you murmur with a quirked brow, standing behind the tall sliding door. nanami stiffly stood at the doorway, keys still idly in hand with the most dumbfounded look.

oh- he was so kept in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize you had already slid the door open.

you looked so pretty though. nanami could feel his face softening once his eyes locked onto you.

it was pretty dark at night but like always, he could make out your gorgeous physique as clear as day. you were actually wearing one of his business shirts with what he hoped were panties underneath once he took a glance between your bare thighs.

his fawn eyes continue to trace down every exposing inch of your skin, and he snaps back into reality once he feels your palm cup his cheek.

“hi, baby. how was the mission?” you hum.

“not hah- that good,” he pants, and you furrow your brows once he steps inside, sliding the door closed and tossing his suitcase to the floor. it lands with a banging thud, and nanami pulls you into a hug.

a coy smile goes against your lips, wondering why he’s being more clingy than usual, but nanami rests his face right on top of your chest. letting off a smoky sigh, he roughly grumbles, gently rubbing a thumb against your hips. “mmf- i missed you, sweetheart.”

with a soft expression, you comb a few tangled fingers through his blond tresses. “i missed you more.”

“no- i really missed you,” he protests, and you can see a bit of a pout forming against his lips. nanami’s drowsy eyes trail down at the bit of skin that shows through his shirt. it was a bit loosely oversized, and you smelled just like him. his cologne was good on you. so good.

uh oh- he was starting to feel even more hot.

just resting against your chest had him hearing the repetitively unsteady beats of his heart through each of his sensitive pointed ears. “at the mission today . . i got struck by a curse.”

with a worrying look, your face shifts into a look of concern. “a- are you okay? what happened?”

“ ‘m fine,” he lets out a muffled huff of reassurance. nanami breathes against your skin, sweetly planting kisses against the cotton fabric that shields the entirety of your chest. “i feel really hot though.. everywhere- not just my head,” he speaks once the back of your hand lands on his forehead, checking for a temperature.

indeed, he felt hot.

sepia-colored irises flicker up toward you before he shivers. “when you . . touch me, honey- it makes me feel weak. hah- like i feel-”

“aroused?” you finish his sentence, your concerned look slowly disappearing.

oh.

thankfully, it wasn’t anything serious . . or was it?

nanami stares at you with a cute head nod being his answer as you press a kiss on his warm forehead. “so was it some type of love curse?”

nanami’s breath becomes deeper as he takes a minute to formulate words in his overstimulated brain. “m- maybe. all i know is that i just- i want you…i need you,” and he sighs deeply, eyes lowering. “you look beautiful tonight by the way.”

“it’s still november, baby,” you tease, knowing exactly where he was going with his gruff words. nanami had a feral hungry look in his eyes, and it looked like no other expression of his you’ve seen before.

he lets off a frustrated groan at your words, remembering the little ‘challenge’ you both agreed on once halloween ended.

ah- ‘no nut november’.

where men have to apparently abstain from masturbation and cumming—according to you, specially for the entire month of november.

not that nanami necessarily minded, he had a pretty good tolerance, actually.

but today, of all days?

he felt like he was about to break. being so close to your proximity had nanami’s head spinning.

his face - it’s overly flushed. a pretty tint of pink starts to slowly paint his face as he pouts at you.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen your husband like this—let alone pout. “we made a deal, remember?” you continue, caressing a thumb across his cheek. his chin was still resting on your chest and you could see the frown marinating against his features. “december first.”

“but-” he grunts, watching the smug grin spread across your glossed lips. nanami gets sheepish, tilting his head down. “sweetheart- i know that, but you’re bein’ pretty cruel right now, no?” and you glance down, feeling his lips collide against the skin that briefly exposes your tummy. “do you always wear my work shirts when i’m not home?”

“yeaaah,” you admit, letting off a tiny snicker. nanami feels your shoulders slacken once you release a single breath, and you stare straight into his eyes.

his eyes however, never left yours, not for a millisecond. as the gaze continued, you could see the beads of sweat starting to race down each side of his forehead.

oh-

maybe the curse was serious. getting an idea you decide to amp up your teasing just a bit. “do you wanna know what i was doing earlier while wearing your dress shirt?”

nanami places chaste kisses between the valley of your breasts. “uh huh. tell me, wifey.”

“i . . might’ve been playin’ with myself,” you sweetly speak, and he could hear the tease lacing underneath your sentence.

the more you spoke about what you were doing, nanami was starting to feel even hotter-

and the pure image of you touching yourself with his button-front shirt on, engulfed in nothing but his musky cologne made him groan. it was clear you weren’t wearing panties. he couldn’t help but peek, and sure enough—you were going commando.

nanami keeps his lovingly longing gaze and slowly, he raises his head from between your chest, raising a brow as if silently saying, ‘continue.’

with a cheeky smile, you wrap your arms around his torso. “i couldn’t make myself finish though. my fingers aren’t as long as yours. so, i ended up falling asleep and i had a dream. about . . us.”

“i see,” nanami huskily utters, sinking his head into your left shoulder. you just smelled so so sweet — sweeter ever, and you could see nanami trying to restrain himself. clearing his throat, nanami invades an entire side of your neck with wet, loving kisses. “what was the dream, princess?”

now it was your turn for your heart to start racing.

it was quick, beating at such high beats per minute. with an impish expression, you cup his chin and make him face you.

tenderly rubbing a thumb over his lips, you finish what your cute, lewd admission. “i…uh- dreamt about you retiring as a sorcerer. or you have a safer job that makes you less stressed. we finally . . settled down, and we um . . ended up having kids.”

“kids, huh,” he whispers, dragging a hand through his blond strands. you could feel his feverish heat radiate against your skin and you were surrounded by his balmy warmth.

he wasn’t exaggerating—nanami was truly, truly burning up. the buds on his tongue sizzle each time he takes a fateful second to swallow, salivating the more his eyes focus on you. nanami ponders for a moment silently, and before you know it, he’s picking you up.

you let off a cute surprised gasp, hurling your arms around his neck before watching him sigh. “ah- don’t get shy, my sweet. keep going.”

nanami continues to walk with you in his arms, going up the creaking, wooden stairs and you run a few fingers down your exposed nape.

“we . . had about maybe two or three. you even started growing facial hair too,” and nanami’s grip on your hips softens. he raises a blond brow before trodding inside the quiet bedroom. “you’d make a good dad though, ken,” you purr, running a finger down his amber-dotted tie. “could you imagine though? one of me is cute, but two though?”

“honey-” he cuts off, lying you flat back against the mattress.

with a split-second glimpse underneath the oversized formal shirt you wore—indeed, you weren’t wearing any panties. he had to check just one more time.

nanami starts to pant heavily, watching as you playfully lift your leg, throwing it over his shoulder. “is that- is that what you want? to settle down?”

“only if . . you want to.” you murmur in a soft tone, deeply getting lost in his golden-hour gaze.

nanami’s eyes were bright, shining with nothing but love and adoration for you - always.

if you squinted just enough, you could see his pupils forming into cute-shaped hearts.

grabbing his hand, you place it on your tummy, sliding it underneath the buttoned shirt.

“i want… you,” he huffs, his voice turning from tender to raspy within seconds. nanami leans in and presses his lips against yours. his dimples happily curve forward once you immediately return the gesture, cupping his face with both hands.

right away, nanami moans against your lips as his hot tongue blissfully shoves itself inside your mouth. minty peppermint — it’s exactly what he tasted like, and his cool breath running against your tongue only made him taste sweeter.

nanami couldn’t help but roll his hips against you with his sweaty forehead softly pressed on top of yours.

each popping smack of hungry lips got louder, and he heard the faint clanks of his belt shuffling. you slid a hand down, reaching for the middle part of his pants. you’ve shared many kisses with nanami, but this one seemed different..

a current of chills ran down your spine as he deepened the passionate kiss as the callused tips of nanami’s fingers unbuttoned his shirt.

speaking of his shirt though—he just couldn’t get over how much his shirt was just prettily glued against your skin.

“god- this month’s been torture, sweetheart,” he’d breathe between nearly suffocating kisses.

nanami’s lungs were full, and he’d sometimes even forget to breathe. such full lungs of his were heaving in and out continuously, desperate for any sort of puffs.

they had to find air, they just had to..

but nanami didn’t care about breathing, not when he had his lips ardently locked against yours.

“couldn’t- stop- thinkin’- ‘bout- you-” he grunted in a hoarse tone, sweetly sucking against your lolled tongue. its mushy warmth invites him to continue, and you briefly open your lashes to stare straight into a very needy nanami’s eyes. “hah- you were all i thought about at work today.”

“mhm, breathe, kento,” you whisper, feeling your lips swell the minute he pulls away.

a web of gluey saliva leaves from both sets of puffed lips and he breathes like you said. with a looooong inhale, nanami then exhales before grunting. you simper, tugging on the hem of his beige boxers. “maybe i can . . help with that curse?”

and you did.

in more ways than one, really.

to be brief, nanami kento was a feral man-

he felt himself turning into a brand new man the second his tongue graciously rolls itself flat against the flatness of your pretty twitching clit.

a sharp gasp winds straight out of your lungs as you’re sat with your legs obtusely spread to a wide degree.

with your hands burying themselves underneath your plushy tits as he devoured you—you couldn’t help but toy with yourself for a bit. moaning, a thumb trails its way down against one of your puckered nipples that poke through the fleecy blue dress shirt.

“k- kentooo.” you’d hum out a whimper, a hand finding its way near the top of his head.

he’s slow… badly wanting to savor your sweet taste on his tongue while eating you out like the starved, starved man that he was.

wisping a bundle of fingers through his blond locks, you continue to cup one of your tits with one hand. long, thirsty sluuuurps exited from nanami’s lips as you watched his head frantically shake from side to side.

your tummy was already seizing, and the heel of your ankle started to guide its way down his back. wet, sloshing noises ricocheted against nanami’s lips as his eyes periodically averted back towards you.

he’s giving you the ‘i wanna marry you again’ stare, no doubt. even with his mouth stuffed, nanami kento’s never felt more in love—

maybe this love curse . . pollen, whatever it was was a secret blessing in disguise.

the panicky, racing beats of nanami’s heart never slowed, and a hand of his then grips your thigh. tenderly, you feel the tip of his tongue dipping its way in ‘n out — wetly lathering his pink twitching muscle with your sweet slickness.

your eyes remain on him the entire time, getting forevermore lost in his crave-like gaze. “shh- talk later, princess. promise.” he whispers against your cunt, delving his tongue in swerving, wide circles.

those wide circles eventually curve their way into hearts, though. a whine sobs its way from the back of your throat as the grip on his hair tightens.

you felt the scaly, hot of his tongue create the perfect heart . . even spelling out the simple eight letters of ‘i love you.’

your legs couldn’t hold still, they just couldn’t- and you could feel the skittish smile forming against his lips, tickling against your pussy.

you were drooling from your entrance, right from the puffy slavering slit down. you’re flooded, soddened with such amounts of dewy dewdrops that form into strings, and in a way though, it was pretty.

nanami was just struck in awe at how much you were just profusely leaking. like the gentleman nanami was though, he lapped it right up. his rose-swollen lips cupped everywhere, smothering the crevices of your sheeny thighs with his many, many kisses.

“r- riiiight there, ‘ken,” you’d mewl out a desperate plea, slowly dragging his head against your cunt. it’s moving around in a hypnotizing circle, but if it was anything that was leaving you in a mere trance of a state, it was his tongue.

nanami explores through every puffy wet corner, sloppily slotting his tongue in between your pudgy folds. he grunts against your throbbing heat, feeling the weight of his impatient boner prodding beneath his cotton-made boxers. “mngh- gonna cum. ‘m gonna cum, kento.”

“do it for me,” he soundlessly says, vertically smearing a fat thumb down your slimy pussy.

your entrance was soaked-

tearing away with drooling droplets of slick. every time. he was so enticed that he had to take a minute to just stare at your cunt—admiring how wet his pretty, perfect girl was - just for him.

nanami was entranced once he moved his face closer. the tip of his button nose then literally starts to drag itself down your sobbing slit and he moans, taking in your natural scent. “hah- c’mon, sweetheart. give it t’ me,” and he brings his ring finger right up against your core.

it’s a lanky finger that starts to bedaub against your cunt, feeling you writhe at the sensitive contact.

you whine, feeling his ring finger rub its way against your heat before poking your tongue against your cheek to silence yourself.

as you watch, his digit gets covered with your mess almost immediately, and you shudder at the cold band of his ring toying with your salivating folds. “pretty please-” and oh- he’s begging.

a blond brow of nanami’s quivers as his lips attach back to your cunt. sticky, glistening strings of arousal rills straight down his forward-pointed chin as he continues to rub the back of his wedding ring against your pulsating clit.

it’s icy cold.. you felt him keep up the pace as the material of the band smears itself around in circles before feeling a coil in your tummy tightening.

the pressure makes you see stars for a hot second—and you’re met with a bundle of nerves trying to introduce itself to the lower depths of your stomach. “ ‘m cumming!” you’d blurt in a staggering wail.

the crashing wave of endorphins made you exhale a cute sigh as your legs started to get more and more numb.

you felt like you were floating on every single cloud, including cloud nine - especially cloud nine.

nanami’s tongue still slid its way in between the slot your sappy folds, feeling the cute twitches of your throbbing clit against his bumpy tastebuds as you start to spasm. “fuh- fuck! ‘ken ‘m sensitive, baby.” and your words turn into a mere hush once your body started to limp its way onto the sheets.

your thighs locked around his neck, and you still had his hair in a firm grasp, digging your fingers deep into his roots and scalp.

with widened doe-eyes, you glance back down toward your husband who’s merrily licking you clean without a single care in the world.

if the beats of your heart was a car, you’d be speeding.

it’s beating so fast out of your chest that you can barely keep up. your legs felt like mush as your neck finally gave up, collapsing back against your pillow.

“mmh- should’ve just stayed . . hah- stayed home today,” he grumbles, giving every glossed part of your exposed cunt individual kisses. nanami starts at your pretty clitoral hood, sprightly nibbling at the tender fold of skin. you whine, yanking his head forward before nanami pats your pussy. “could’ve been playin’ with her a- all day.”

“you’re here now.” you speak out of breath, pulling his head back up. once you do so, nanami looks at you with the most pussy drunk expression.

his lips were all plump and red, lashes merely sticking together, and glossed sleek streams of slick racing down his chin. nanami leans into your touch, sitting up before leaning in to kiss you.

again- his tongue sloppily carved a wet trail through your mouth, and you moan once you feel the tint of his boner press up against your bare cunt.

he’s so hard, you wondered if it was painful. you swallowed each grunt of his in your mouth, feeling his body hungrily rock against yours.

a few ash tresses stick against his forehead as his lips violently crash onto yours—creating an impactful collision.

as dancing tongues swiftly twisted and spiraled around each other in sync, you hear a bit of shuffling again.

nanami's reaching into his boxers, grunting against your lips once he feels the anchoring weight of his heavy cock lie flat against his palm. “m- mhm, sweetheart.” he throatily groans, feeling your hand slip inside of his boxers too.

you feel a lightning-shaped vein shoot down his skin and he grunts. nanami was as sensitive as ever, and with your hands softly tracing circles over his bulky triceps, he knew he was in trouble.

deep, deep trouble..

“it’s okay, ‘ken,” you whisper, letting off a sharp inhale once his fiery hot tip smears its way on your cunt.

it’s almost flat out rude at first—with the way it smacks against your folds, creating a wet splash that lands right on his bulbous crown.

from the stout tip that’s round at all thick corners, nanami’s leaking.

milky, pearls of whiteness dribble from the fleshy sides of his fat cock and he grunts once he feels your shaky legs caging him in again.

god- you looked so pretty like this..

just laid back, wearing nothing but his business shirt. all the buttons were unbuttoned so now—it was just you, breasts cutely sprung out and all.

gently grabbing his face once more, you mumble against his flushed temple. “inside, it’s okay. go inside,” and your sweet words were like a chant.

he’s slow-

carefully aligning his maroon tip between your syrupy slit, feeling it clumsily slip out every few thrusts.

you even reached between your legs with a single hand, spreading your pussy open right before his eyes. “don’t be… shy, she doesn’t bite, kento.”

“hhh.. woman- you’re gonna be the death of me,” nanami gulps, openly staring at the slippery heat stick between your legs.

he didn’t know which action had him feeling hotter. your filthy words, you, or the way you spread yourself open for him with just two, cute fingers.

two twinned digits pried your lower lips apart, and he grunts once the swollen head of his cock snugly pops its way past your gummy barrier.

“hngh,” nanami sucks his teeth, pressing his forehead against yours. his palm rests on your tummy before he gives you a tender glance. “is this . . alright?”

chewing on your lip, you moan out a, “y- yeah.” before touching the back of his hand.

nanami’s face softens before he eases himself further inside, squeezing past that cute ring of your entrance that’s just always oh-so tight!

nanami was as round as a teddy bear. a few years into your loving marriage you noticed how he started growing a soft bear-type body, especially with the winter rolling around.

not that you minded, he was the perfect subject for cuddling. in this case, though, he was perfect for gradually placing his weight on you—to which you always ended up loved.

with his dress shirt all wrinkled and unkempt thanks to you, nanami sheathed his face inside of your neck. “g- goddd, ‘s like when i’m inside i feel even hotter.”

the love curse ran through all nanami’s veins, including invading near his bloodstream and every jabbing axon that continued to pulse through his achingly, hot skin.

eventually through . . after a very long three minutes, his gravelly pants started to turn more and more raspy.

browned eyes of nanami’s turn tender at your gaze once you grab both sides of his face, rubbing circles around his hollow cheeks with the soft tips of your thumbs. “don’t hide, look at me.”

“heh- yes ma’am.” he gruffly whispers, tilting his cheek, leaning into your touch.

nanami was on top of you, glued to you entirely as if both bodies were made of pasty adhesive. with your ankle running down his back, it took everything within him to not moan.

every part — every single part of his body felt insanely sensitive to your touch.

nanami would occasionally bite his lip, finding his eyes rolling upward or even letting off a ‘phewww’ just from being a few inches inside of your intoxicating cunt.

as his cock’s driving its way inside at a slow pace, you watch nanami’s blond brows twist into a furrowing curve.

he’s sucking in every breath that tries to escape from him, groaning at each inch that sloppily disappears between your puffed folds. without even taking a glance—nanami could feel how wet you were, and not only were you preparing to milk him dry, but you were also drowning every girthy inch of his cock with all slick amounts of your pretty mess.

he didn’t have to look down because he could just feel – feel your compellingly, vulgar squelches, feel each slosh that sobs between your cunt folds, feel each pulsating throb that would convulse against your clit.

you’re just so damn pretty though..

staring back at him as he’s trying to make his way inside, nanami ends up getting lost in your gummy orifice that’s desperately clinging onto him as if its life depended on it. it’s almost cute..

“f- fuuck.” you’d whine, tugging at his ruffed-up cerulean collar. peering your eyes a bit, you see a bit of faded lipstick marks that were from you earlier this morning.

you smile to yourself, knowing nanami would always proudly show off those marks to any woman who dared look in his direction.

within a few inches deep, nanami’s creating an unforgettable gap that stretches your cunt fully open. he keeps his hooded eyes on you, pressing a few encouraging pecks near your plump, kiss-bitten lips.

he’s never felt so hot..

nanami snaps his hips into you once- just once, and he lets off the prettiest moan.

it sounds more like a whine—it pitches a bit higher than usual and he falls face flat into your chest.

you get sheepish, wrapping your arms around him before feeling him grunting between your breasts. “honey, i think i just . . came.”

“oh,” you breathe, and sure enough, you felt a lukewarm batch of cum starting to pool its way inside of you. your legs remained snaked around his waist and you could feel nanami’s ashamed pout stretch against your chest. you pat his head, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “it’s . . okay, ‘ken.” and he’s kissing all between the slope that runs down your soft tits—his comfort place.

you hum, lifting his head and watching him grumpily pout with loose blond strands running down his eyes. “i can always take the lead if you’re too sensitive.”

“please..”

♡ ♡ ♡

nanami looks up at you with a timid expression, his hands restrained at each side of the bed. gulping deeply, he watches as your slick-glossed cunt just barely floats over his creamy white tip. from the coral-colored sides, it’s a blushing pink…itching for you to be inside again.

just a single inch or the mere feeling of you swiping your entrance back ‘n forth against the peeling hood of cock makes him groan. “handcuffs, honey? this is quite…eh- kinky, no?” nanami raises an ash brow with a weary smile, soft, dusky eyes never leaving yours.

in fact—each time you run your hands down the open slit of his shirt that exposes his blond growing chest hair, he shudders.

just a few fingertips of yours alluringly ghosting down his skin was enough to make him melt. through semi-blurred peripherals, he spots a bright color that sticks against his wrists. “they’re . . pink,” he chuckles, “and fuzzy.”

“it came in the mail yesterday,” you coo at his observation, inching your face closer and starting to kiss down his neck. nanami inhales before sighing in rapture, positioning his head to the side so you could have a better angle and it’s unintentionally sexy. “it’s not too tight…is it?”

“it’s fine,” nanami shakes his head, preparing to take another deep breath once the opening of your pussy starts to sloppily split its way ajar.

you’re sinking on his shaft and he lets out a husky grumble—bulky muscles flexing through his biceps as his arms stretched across both sides of the leather headboard. “mmgh- atta girl. like that- like . . that.” and his voice seductively lowers an octave at every inch.

it was almost hypnotic at how much you were soaking him. truly, you were already soaked but now that your cunt was accepting his vast tip that was descending its way further inside of you, nanami wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last.

profusely, your pretty pussy was drowning him. nanami’s muscles continued to bulge through his shirt as he slouched back against the mattress, watching your hips starting to moderately pick up.

“s- sooo big.” you moan, the stretch wholly expanding through your walls. sometimes—you don’t think you’d ever get used to nanami’s size, let alone his thick, parting stretch.

clicking his tongue, nanami takes every second he can just to stare and openly admire your body.

effortless, you were just effortless with every moment you did.

every twirl, every toss and dip of your hips had him hungry for only more – more of you.

as your pace maintained its rocky rhythm, his eyes found themselves trailing further down, pausing between the crack of your pried-open legs.

seconds pass and they’re now leisurely making their way up your chest, pausing right between your plush rounded mounds.

you still had his business shirts as you rode him, and your tits freely sprung as your hips started to grind quicker. as your hips pathetically stuttered, so did the wooden legs of the bed. “hng- puttin’ me in handcuffs just so i can’t touch my hah- pretty wife, hm?”

nanami tries to joke, but you could already see him breaking a sweat once his cock explores deeper inside of your cunt – zigzagging a bumpy pattern all through your inside.

it’s making sure every part of you from the inside memorizes his hits, sloppy thrusts and all, and fuck- were you about to collapse right then and there.

the sides of nanami’s forehead were already heavily covered in perspiring sweat. with lush tears dribbling down every crevice and corner, nanami starts to huff.

“but baby, you always touch me,” you lively tease, tossing both arms over his tense, pent-up shoulders.

the bed lowly creaks every second, constantly dipping from all the constant movements and pounds that jolt against the rickety aged boxspring.

its constant croaky groans sounded almost painful—and the quicker your hips swerved around and bounced, the louder it cried in the background from both jerking bodies.

nanami pouts, shaking his head and you make him nod by cupping his chin. “yeah, you do.” you then surprise a part of his neck with wet, balmy kisses.

nanami gruffly grunts, desperately wishing his hands were roaming down every part of your body. tending to every part, allowing his fingers to explore every part.

he’d caress circles around your ass—guiding his callused, rough fingers up up up before they eventually reach near your waistline.

with a clingy grip, he’d start to rock your hips faster into him, making sure he pumps all nth inches deep inside until you’re babbling out incoherent cacophonies of his name and how you’re just so full..

but you noticed—nanami’s eyes were only focused on only one thing. your soft, perked breasts that bounced at the exact second your body did.

at each powerful hop and slam of your hips, they playfully jiggled, flopping against your chest. they were nearly smushed right in his face, and oh- he could feel his mouth shamefully watering at just imagining them being in his mouth.

“closer, sweetheart,” he grunts, tilting his head down since he couldn’t exactly use his hands.

you were riding him at such godly speed, swerving your hips at such frantic intervals while wetly clamping down on his cock.

nanami always filled you to the brim with all of him, poking right through your slickly dripping orifices with every bouncy thrust.

once more, it makes his head spin, but all he’s focused on is your chest that was staring straight back at him. “f- fuuuck, ‘m still h.. hot. i think- i think suckin’ on them will help me cool off, sweetheart.”

saucily cooing, you lick a stripe down his neck as your hips accelerated. as you continued to speak, your voice started to get a bit bumpy from the unsteady movement of your jouncing ass.

“oh- is that what you wanted all this time, ‘ken? to suck on these?” and he watches as you lean back, cupping your tits with the smuggest smile plastered on your lips.

your hands sneak down between your unbuttoned shirt before you silently mewl, giving them a nice good squeeze. “imagine jus’ how plumper they’d be after i have your baby, kento.”

“h.. honey- you’re lucky ‘m handcuffed.” bronze eyes trace down your skin, stopping at your perked nipples.

they were oh-so-perfect.. and as you’re straddled over his lap, nanami couldn’t help but let his mind wander just a bit. he couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander near the very lewd lobe of his brain.

the mental image of you baring his child . .

his wife, you.

nanami grunts at the thought, wordlessly gasping in multiple honed breaths at the fierce clashes of sharp skin.

your hips were disgustingly brutal, and with the way your thighs clung onto him, you were nearly akin to a magnet – forevermore sticking against nanami, never wanting to let go.

“c’mooon,” the blond playfully whines in a gruff voice, his cock stiffening inside of you. “don’t hah- make me beg, sweet girl.”

“you make me beg,” you chaff, slowing your hips down just a bit. nanami grunts at your catty truth, feeling the weight of you gradually hover before you roughly buck right into him.

using all of your core, his leaking tip smears its way against your clit in an almost pretty heart shape and you stutter out a moan.

your syllables of each broken moan were a bit choppy as you were shooting blanks, arching your back against him. even as you’re still riding him, putting all pounds of movement from your body into your sprawled knees, you kept touching yourself.

seeing you guide your hands all over your body in such a sensual way, made nanami kiss his teeth.

in envy though - those should’ve been his hands..

“allll. the. time.” you finish your sentence in a spirited whisper, whispering against the twitching left side of his ear.

each thrust becomes increasingly sloppy with your grip getting more slick ‘n wet — glossed which such sticky amounts of your tangled juices.

each squashing slop! that squelches from between the arc your legs get louder, causing your thighs to nearly clamp together from the tender stimulation.

cupping your tits again, you bring them up to nanami’s face. “go ‘head.”

“woman.. you’re evil,” nanami muffles, getting a face full of your breasts. you hold onto them tight, watching as nanami brings his face closer until he’s shoved right between them. a sweet crooning groan slithers from his lips as his tongue fervently curls its way down toward your nipple.

sloppily, you feel him casually swirling greedy circles around your pulsating gland before switching to the other one.

nanami’s lashes close as you’re still rocking your hips forward, nearly riding him into utter ‘n erotic oblivion..

at this point—you thought the bed was about to break, devastatingly snapping into two due to how good you were putting your hips to use.

“mmpf- so pretty. all mine, m- mine,” he rasps between wet slurps, his wrists still trapped in pretty pink handcuffs. the woolly fur tickles against his skin as his tongue continues to rove shapes around your nipples. “need to get these girls plump… quickly.”

your tits remained grasped in your hands as you’re moaning from nanami’s tongue, and you now start to rut into him at a much more hurried pace.

nanami hungrily drives his cock all through your core, creating a near race-track path that smothers invisible kisses all against your g-spot.

every inch, he’s fat- and his even lengthier girth nearly makes your brain short-circuit for a minute. every wild jam of your hips feels like its last, and nanami’s already drooling.

treacly, sweet saliva pours from the corners of his lips as he’s sucking on each of your tits, muffled gargled moans and whines vibrating against your tepid flesh..

your body had adapted to a more steady rhythm, but you could feel his dick eagerly twitch inside of you every few rushed seconds.

a bit of drool ends up running down his mouth, landing on his polka-dotted tie, creating a gray dampening spot. it’s cute, and you rub a thumb over his thin lips, watching his tawny, soft eyes flutter back open.

it’s the look of love- and nanami could feel himself heating up more once your gaze meets his again.

for a moment, he had completely forgotten about the dumb curse because he was too busy lost in your gaze.

but his temperature started to increase. you let off a bundle of whiny mewls once you feel him nip the top row of his teeth against your nipple.

“s- so cute,” he purrs lowly, feeling your knobbly thighs get closer and closer to giving out. just a few more thrusts and you’d probably be done for.

“mmp-” he pops out your left nipple with his swollen wet lips, glancing at you. nanami looked like he’d just run a marathon with blond strands glossing strips across his forehead. grunting, he starts to pant like a greyhound, sliding a tongue over his lips. “you’re close, honey?”

“m- mhm!” you’d reply, your voice turning raw at each straining moan that leaves from your poor chords.

his cock was massaging everywhere, it didn’t miss a single spot. it’s tip was widely turgid, angrily crimson-red, and leaking from all veiny sides while narrowly delving into you raw.

nanami’s kneading through your guts, tending to each gummy part of your entrance to make you whimper out his name. from every deep, vigorous pump that profoundly batters inside of your pussy, your eyes cross.

you’re dumbfounded—dumb in general too from the way he facilely located every sensitive spot with just the stubby tip of his shaft.

including your pretty cervix - nanami made sure his cock smacked its way there a few times.

the deep pressure pounding inside of you, greeting every single spot inside of your pussy never failed to make your knees quickly buckle.

“f- fuck, fuck there ‘ken, theretherethereee,” you start to babble, the bumps of his tip making your jaw goofily hang. “ ‘m cum- ‘m gonna cummm.”

“haah- together, sweetheart. can you . . finish with me?” nanami murmurs in a throaty voice, kissing your neck.

he tried to lift his head but got slightly pulled back from the fuzzy handcuffs.

he’s molding your insides fully with his cock, squinting a bit at the crescent-shaped moon that hides behind the violent bed curtain.

that view was nice but the view currently in front of him, riding him.. ‘curing’ him from whatever curse this was was far a better sight.

you.

with a whine preparing to squeal from your throat, you give him a nod.

nanami tilts his head, tsking impishly with his smacking lips despite how he was just as sensitive as you. “ah- you know how i feel about head nods, princess. i wanna hear those pretty words.”

“y.. yes ken, ‘kentoooo,” you moan, gasping once you feel two things at once. your stomach tightly seizing and your sloppy cunt restricting around his meaty, stocky length.

it’s so good, soso good that you softly bite into nanami’s shoulder. he hums, groaning right with you before you continue. “ ‘m cummin. ‘m fuckin’ cumming, kento.”

“i know.. i know, c’mere, girl,” he whispers, his face softening once your eyes immediately lock with him. “my sweet… girl.” his pitch lowers, and you decrease the distance between the two of you.

once again, your lips meet nanami’s but this time, it’s far more aggressive and less passionate.

it’s only one word and it’s – sloppy.

your body’s weakly rolling against him, losing its rhythm as the two of you end up finishing together, competing with each other’s inevitable high.

it all felt like a slow … rush.

as you were both drinking each other’s never-ending moans and grunts, the puddled, gooey mess began.

at the same time though, your legs ended up finally collapsing as your swollen, plump lips attacked against his - harshly.

nanami’s lips were almost competing with yours, mashing against your lips with the occasional rows teeth of teeth clash clash clashing away.

it’s loud, sloppy, messy..

the peppermint taste that still lingers in his mouth travels against your buds and you moan. nanami groans, spraying a geyser of bittersweet strips of hot cum inside of you as both tongues continue to explore each other’s mouths.

it’s a straight shot—it travels deep, introducing your womb with a fresh amount of cum as you end up letting go at the same time.

both sets of hearts fluttered as you pressed against his chest, racing frantic beats per minute as you melted the dozenth kiss he presented to your lips.

it’s hot- nanami’s rawly plunging into you as you whine against his lips, barely feeling your hips rutting into him anymore.

you’re just straddling him now – yet he’s still plugging you full with such massive inches of cock, with the addition of his creamy, gloopy seed that drizzles a sloppy white ring around his base.

your fingers wisp down his undercut, as he continues to quietly ravage your walls. it was a slick, slimy knot that buries itself deep inside of your pussy.

you’re moaning, slowly breaking away from his mouth that had strings of saliva clinging near the bottom of his glossed lip. panting heavily, you crane your head, taking a quick peek down at your ass.

it’s a mess, and as his carmine-colored tip slips out of you, it lightly smacks against his tummy.

ribbons of cum paint near the very undersides of your thighs, pouring out between your syrupy slit in such a slow yet filthy manner. time nearly stood still, and nanami went silent, staring at the gooey wads ‘n wads buttery cum that oozes out of your pretty, fluttering cunt.

“are you okay?” nanami sighs, feeling you reach for the handcuff key that rests near the rosy nightstand. you remove them, and he twirls his wrists in a circle before looking at you with kind eyes.

“ ‘m okay.” you reassure him, cupping his face and kissing the right side of his cheek.

nanami’s exhausted—especially after how good you just rode him.

your dripping cunt hovers against his happy trail and sheeny clenched abs as he lazily lies back, finally grabbing your hips. “good . . good,” and with a huff, he sheepishly smiles. “i guess i . . hah- failed no nut november, huh.”

“eh- there’s always next year,” you bring a chaste, sweet kiss to his quivering, pouty lips.

♡ ♡ ♡

surrounded by nothing but bodies of water featuring sods of glittery clear bubbles, you now found yourself lying against nanami’s broad chest. burly, swole arms envelope around your body as the two of you were in the ivory, spacious bathtub. as the water ran against your skin, soothing your aching muscles—you let off a sigh once he finished washing you off.

“i think it wore off,” his warm voice tickles against your skin. nanami kisses down your nape, reaching near the side of the tub where a bowl of fresh muscat grapes lies. tearing a few off the vine, he brings them toward your lips. “the curse . . pollen, whatever it was.”

“mmpf- did it?” you eat from his hand, feeling his wet palm softly rub against your chin. the smell of rich jasmine hits your nostrils as you let off a satisfied hum at the sugary sweet flavor. nanami’s body held you close, feeling your damp body lightly plop against his chest. you feel a bit of his chest hair land against your skin before you swallow. “do you still feel hot?”

nanami pops another grape into your mouth, then into his. “no, sweetheart. i’m fine now, thanks to you,” and you feel his left arm hook around your waist. the blond reclines back against the tub’s icy marble-made wall before sighing. “how do you feel, though? any cramps or body aches i should be aware of?”

with a content suspire drifting away from your parted lips, you move a bit in the calm, lukewarm water — closer toward the back of his chest.

“i’m okay, kento. althooough,” and you give him a playful nudge. “my legs still feel sore.”

“forgive me, honey,” nanami rests his chin against your shoulder. there was a bit of jest in his tone, and you could hear him trying not to snicker.

again, always the gentleman though.

“i’ll give you a massage once we get out of the tub, my treat.” and you let off a sigh, feeling him creep a few fingers up your thigh.

“hmm, okay,” you comply with a sight sigh, sneaking a kiss near the edge of his lips. nanami blinks thrice, his face flushing a bit before you cup his face with wet hands.

“i was serious you know. about . . what i said earlier. us settling down and–,” and nanami deeply stares into your eyes as you speak.

you rub a wet thumb against his sharp cheekbone before continuing, abruptly cutting your cute rambling short, ending with a sincere, “i love you, kento.”

tilting his head against your palm, leaning into your embrace, nanami brings you toward him before kissing the crown of your head. “and i love you more,” and as you felt butterflies party in the lower pits of your stomach, nanami brings your hand up to his lips.

gently, he aligns his mouth perfectly near your fourth digit before giving you another kiss, this time—on your ring finger. “mrs. nanami.”

but oh- he wasn’t done..

as you’re feeling a wave of tenderness overwhelm your heart, nanami leans a bit down before kissing the center part of your tummy that drips with teary droplets.

his wetly compressed lips give it a quick peck and ‘mwah’ before keeping his head lowered. “i love her too.” you raise a brow, glancing as nanami’s chin hovers over the bubbles of water.

“her?” you lift a brow as he whispers multiple ‘i love you’s’ against your stomach as if he was already talking to something – or someone..

“yes, her,” nanami repeats, giving your tummy one more kiss before sitting back up, rubbing his palm over the center of your belly.

looking up at you, he notices your confused expression and smiles to himself. “oh, just a little hunch,” and you gasp once nanami picks you up softy, carrying you out the wet tub, the both of you soaking wet.

“now, how about that massage? i’m quite good with my hands, especially when it comes to my woman.”

#★vegasbaby.#nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #female reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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littleapplle · 11 days ago

Text

bad dog!

mating season's part two. not necessary but read it for more context. nsfw. 4.1k w.

cw.: hybrid!caleb, fem!reader, masturbation (m), dry humping, caleb is pathetic and anxious asf, a lot of spit, handjob, cunnilingus (sigh...), p in v, big d caleb, knotting, breeding kink, pregnancy kink (sorryy..), caleb is PATHETIC (again), biting and lwk marking kink, doggy style, mating press, squirting.

note: ah!! its finally out! to everyone who liked and asked for a part two of mating season, im sorry! i took so long to start and finish this. i hope i can keep up with the expectations and that this is just as enjoyable as part one.

“bad dog!”

Is what caleb's got most used to hearing in the past few days.

“caleb, do you know where my white bra is- hey, what are you hiding in there? bad dog!”

“caleb! stop going through the dirty laundry basket! bad dog!”

“caleb, why are there holes in my black panties? oh my god did you chew them again?- ugh! bad dog!”

the first few times, he'd whine in guilt and shame, give you his best puppy eyes and maybe, just maybe, get away with it. but now? you're afraid he's getting bolder, that your punishments – denying him his weekly spoon of peanut butter and his blueberry bites – aren't being enough to keep him on his tracks.

and what's the solution for a puppy with bad manners? a trainer, of course! you've searched everywhere online for a hybrid trainer close to your apartment and nothing was worth wasting time on. most of them were men, which you knew wouldn't end well.

puppy!caleb is friendly, a sweetheart around you. he lies on his back and whines for belly rubs and when you scratch a particular spot on his side, his leg twitches a little. your sweet pup is lovely but you know him well enough to know it's better to avoid interactions with other men.

it's not personal! he isn't scared of them or anything. he just doesn't like them around you:( so why would you bring a stranger to your shared apartment to not only try and order him around but also infect the air, which usually smells like you, with their yucky scent? that's a nono!! caleb is a good pup but his teeth are still huge and sharp!!!

with no other options left, you return to scolding caleb almost daily for his misbehavior. sure, you’re letting him get away with it sometimes and maybe you're too soft on him but you're trying!

his behavior worsens with time. it's been a little more than a week since the incident you'd rather not mention. caleb barks when you get home, showing his teeth to the world once his nose sniffs a different scent in your clothes. caleb growls and both of you play tug of war with your clothes every morning. caleb hides stuff around the apartment and you're running out of undies.

he's clingy. you love him but he's constantly clinging to you, sniffing every inch of your skin when he thinks you're not looking. When you sit down on the couch to work, laptop resting on top of your thighs, he lies down on the floor, waiting for you to invite him to sit beside you and take a nap while you write reports, and when you don't? his sharp teeth nip at the ticklish skin of your foot. bad dog!

to his dismay, you still have a job and need to go out by the morning and spend the whole day out. the baby teethers you bought for him aren’t helping to keep his teeth and mind busy anymore and caleb is starting to destroy the shit out of your apartment. you’ve found bite marks everywhere this past week. your mascara? bitten. the corner of your bedside table? destroyed. the cute and pink silicone spatula in your kitchen? disintegrated.

ok, sure, it’s kind of your fault for not educating him properly but how could you? poor boy gets anxious when you’re not around and his gums are itchy! he’s innocent!

so, to help with said problem, you bought him a friend! a fluffy, cute, white bunny plushie with the cutest light pink heart for a nose. but that alone was too tedious for your bored pup! to prevent him from absolutely destroying the plushie, you spray some of your perfume in its fluffy body. the cologne he whines and buries his face in your neck when you wear, the one that made you put a lock on the cabinet under your bathroom sink because he kept spraying it in the air when you weren’t home.

great idea! he loves it. a bit too much maybe, but it’s a win.

“i’m leaving, caleb! leftovers are in the fridge. yes, i love you, yes, i have to go, no i can’t call in sick.”

you announce loudly from the front door before shutting it close, a tactic you quickly learned. you sneak to the front door quietly, tell him that you’re out and boom. door locked. sometimes you can hear him whine and paw at the knob and it breaks your heart but your boss will chop your head off if you arrive late one more time this month. you try to make your goodbye as painless as possible for him, like removing a bandaid with a single quick pull so he doesn’t have the time to process the sting.

the clock hits 11:00, it’s been an hour since you left. caleb is miserably sprawled on the couch, he tries to focus his eyes on the show playing on the tv but his purple orbs stare at the clock more times than he can count.

it’s 18:00 by the time he gets frustrated and decides he’ll take a nap in your bed. everything on the tv is too boring if you’re not there to watch it with him, he doesn’t want to eat if you’re not there to treat him with dessert- oh, he misses you dearly.

opening the door of your room, he sighs like a wife that has been waiting six months for her husband, who left to save their country, to answer her last letter, whining dramatically at the hopeful thought you’d magically come home earlier. the mattress sinks down with his weight, curling under your weighted blanket like a puppy.

and that’s when he sees it.

his new little friend, with a light orange bow tied around its neck, sitting beside his head on the pillows. you’ve definitely sprayed your perfume on it this morning, the scent is still too fresh, he notes.

he yanks it closer quickly, big hand and fingers gripping the fabric with force as he buries it in his face. comfort immediately runs through his veins, filling his bored brain with a sense of calmness. his fluffy ears twitch, glueing to the sides of his head pitifully and there’s a barely visible tail wagging slowly under the thick blanket.

caleb takes a whiff, a second one, a third one, and his eyes start to water. this is inhumane! he cherishes your gift dearly but now the scent just makes him miss you even more. rubbing his face closer to the plushie’s tummy, his canine teeth sink on the fabric as gently as he can, trying not to damage the toy you gifted him with so much love.

his little puppy heart shatters. if you were by his side right now, you’d pet his ears, pinch his cheek just enough to make his canines visible and giggle at him and it’d make him feel better!

his hips buckle against the mattress as he squirms around the bed sadly and a shiver runs up his spine, making the fur on his tail stand up. caleb has been so pent up since he pressed you to the floor and had his way around you, his cock is always sensitive, the scratches you give behind his ear make his lower stomach tighten with arousal and his pupils are always blown.

gross stuff is a nono in your bed but his hands paw at his hardening cock through his boxers anyway. It’s not in his hand he wants to come and the feeling of not having what he wants makes his chest heavy with frustration. With a hiss, his hand leaves his cock, like any touch burns and hurts him more than it helps.

‘caleb- no. i need you to calm down before i give you the spoon. breathe.’ is what you tell him after lunch, when he gets to have some peanut butter. the situation is different, he feels like a bomb, ticking closer and closer to exploding but he obeys your voice in his head anyway, breathing nervously against the now covered in saliva bunny.

a long breath makes his eyes roll to the back of his skull as his hypersensitive nose catches a glimpse of the intoxicating sweet smell of your cologne.

and what happens next is not processed by his pathetic brain. the poor plushie is dragged down the blanket and pressed right to his crotch, its fur sticky with precum that seeped through his boxers. this is what you wanted when you gifted him this thing, huh? a ragdoll for him to fuck when you’re away? well it’s not enough!

his hips rut against the bead filled body with messy thrusts and more whines escape his lips. He can’t come. Not in this, not in his hand, his knot will take too long to go down and he’ll be sensitive, too sensitive. it has to be you. he wants you.

caleb is not there to see the clock tick 18:40, his ears don't help him this time, his nose is buried in your pillow too deeply to catch your slightly sweaty scent in the air and tell that you’re home.

from the front door, you arch a brow as you kick your shoes off and place them on the shoe hack. the apartment is quiet, too quiet. caleb is like a child, you’ve noticed, if everything is too silent, something is wrong.

“caleb? where are you, boy? have you eaten anything yet?” you call out, no one answers.

the door of your bedroom is ajar. is he sleeping? cute. you walk carefully to its direction, tiptoeing in hope to not wake him up. and once you peek inside, your smile falters.

“caleb! gross!”

the shriek makes him snap out of his drunk, dumbed down mind and his eyes almost pop out of his skull. his ears, once hidden on both sides of his head, stand on top of it, tense. “you-” he cries and sits up.

you don’t give time to finish his sentence, a frown blooming in your face as you cross your arms close to your chest by the door.

“seriously caleb?! in my bed? i just changed the sheets this morning, for fuck’s sake-” and listen, he wants to apologize, feel guilty and pout but he can’t. he can hear your breath hitching, he loves when you come home with sweat clinging to your skin, fuck, you smell so good. he wants a taste. this time, he’ll get it.

this time, he begs. he crawls to the edge of your bed, tail wagging behind him mindlessly and the words that leave his mouth are pathetic.

“please- r’lly need your help! feels so hot- please i- i really need you! been waiting for so long, ah, please- i’m a good boy, kept my teeth to myself, promise. oh fuck.” your ears can barely catch up to everything he’s saying, his words are dragged, desperate, needy.

you really want to keep up with the ‘i’m mad at you’ act but you break. his whines go right to your core, arousal pooling on your underwear disgustingly fast. pinching your nose, you sigh, walking to his direction and sitting on the bed.

with the space between you two getting smaller, his tail wags faster, his pupils blown wide, shaky. your hand makes contact with his sweaty cheek and he is quick to lean in, shutting his eyes close and basking into your touch. “what’s wrong, pupp-” — “hot.” you can hear the distress in his voice. “it’s okay, i’m here now, aren’t i?” at the reassurance, you receive a lick in your hand as acknowledgement.

scooting closer, you cradle his face with both hands. there’s a bit of sweat clinging to his bangs , making them stick to his forehead, a bit of saliva is smeared on his lips and his brows are furrowed. “oh, my poor pup.” you coo in pity before pressing a kiss to his wet lips. he whines, kissing— well, licking your lips stupid—, you groan at the mess but doesn’t fight against it, you’ve been mean enough already.

while his clammy hands grip your shirt for a sense of grounding, yours scratch his chest in affection, tracing down to the happy trail that trailed up to his bellybutton. you’d love to take your time with him, let your mind settle, but knowing caleb, he’ll grow frustrated and bark weakly as a way to protest. so, in order to keep him quiet, your wandering hand pulls down his wet underwear, his cock standing proud against his stomach.

your eyes almost pop out their sockets once you peek down. he is big, much bigger than whatever the average is. his tip is an angry shade of red, beads of precum leaking down the shaft. the cool air makes it twitch.

slowly, awkwardly, your hand wraps itself around it, working up and down. that makes him snap, breaking the kiss and throwing his head back with a loud whine. “‘s that good, pup?” he doesn’t answer, how could he? not when your thumb presses on his tip in a way it makes his thighs shake and his ears twitch with pleasure and he’s trying so hard not to come.

your other hand leaves his face, going south to cup his balls gently. his jaw tightens. gross. you think with a smile but leans in anyway, kissing his adam’s apple as it bobs with his nervous gulps.

the stimulation is too much for him, making his brain go fuzzy. your lips now working on his shoulder blade, your hand gripping his length tightly, your other hand massaging his balls- “stop! argh- please, ‘m gonna cum! can’t cum. needa be inside you, please.” caleb squeals, both hands holding down your arms with force as his hips buckle in your hands.

so you do, you let go, just staring at him with big eyes as his chest goes up and down quickly and his face flushes with heat. once he settles from his high, caleb’s hands grip the hem of your shirt, taking it off quickly and messing your hair. “ow! caleb-” — “no.”

caleb has always been stronger than you, you lose against him when roughhousing, you give up on trying to save your clothes from his teeth because once something is in his grasp, you’re not getting it back. in a second, you’re under him, face shoved into one of your pillows while your ass, covered in the pretty, black skirt you left to work with is up in the air.

he doesn’t take the skirt off, too irritated to care about something so trivial. he takes a second to sniff your crotch, covered by a cute pair of wet lilac panties, before yanking the fabric down to your bent knees. you squeal against your pillow at the roughness and the quick, hot sniffs on your lips.

last week caleb discovered he loves the way you taste, he’d love to eat you out the whole night, starting now, but he just can’t take this long right now. his warm tongue laps at your arousal, lips wrapping themselves in your folds and sucking gently.

“c-caleb! fuck! good- good boy, keep going, baby.” muffled whines escape your lips and at the praise, caleb’s tail wags faster, tongue working around your clit, teasing it. he sees the way your knees fight to keep your ass up and not buckle weakly, that’s his sign to keep going.

his free hands grip your ass, spreading it for more easy access. he trails kisses from your clit and up to your slit, continuing going up till he gets to your asshole, placing an open mouthed kiss to the hole. it twitches, your body shivering at the unexpected contact. you hit the pillow you’re currently biting in protest. “gross, caleb!”

it doesn’t take long for your moans to grow louder and your thighs, dripping with sweat, shake violently as he sucks on your clit harshly. “fu-ck! yes! good boy, caleb- mghhh- jus’ like, ah, that!” you moan, creaming on his mouth tiredly.

you curse his stamina, because once you think you’ll finally be able to catch your breath and rest, caleb’s already rutting against your wet folds and slapping his dick on your sensitive bundle of nerves. energetic mutt, you curse. he is not giving you a break.

“caleb.” you warn, trying to make your voice as steady as possible. “gimme a break and then we can conti- aaH! oh my god- fucking mutt!” you scream, cursing him for the pain between your legs as he buries himself inside you in a single thrust. his tip kissing your cervix and walls tightening around his length painfully.

“s-sorry! o-oh fuck. fuck, y’er so tight- mgh-”

and ohhhh fuck, he waited so long for this. you look so pretty from this angle, hair tangled and messy, face buried in a pillow, back and thighs sweaty while your knees can barely hold up your weight. he gulps down, trying not to piston his hips inside you just yet.

he doesn’t give you much time to get comfortable before snapping his hips against your ass, the sound of skin against skin disgustingly lewd. his torso bends down to bury his face in your nape, breathing deeply in your hair once he does. “mine. oh- ahh- yes, mineminemine!” caleb whimpers, his eyes rolling back as you clench down around him, making his thrusts messier.

as a response to pleasure, his fluffy ears twitch and drop to the back of his head once again. his tail doesn’t stop wagging ever, swishing behind him happily. the warmth in his stomach grows at the sound of your moans and screams, your curses only making him hornier.

you’re a meanie, you don’t let him chew on your shirts and get a whiff of your bras, you nag at him and hide the small container with blueberries that’s usually in the fridge when he does something wrong. and usually, he’d whine, eyes getting watery at the thought of you being mad at him, but now? he doesn’t even care! you look so pretty, you feel so good. his ears barely get a glimpse of you cursing all his next generations.

a shiver runs down your spine once he licks the back of your neck, sniffing it contently as his cock abuses your insides. you hate him, you fucking hate this mutt, he is disgusting and he does not obey and his cock drags along your walls so fucking nicely. his mushroom tip pokes your cervix roughly, making you stupidly drool in your sheets while your things dig on the bedding.

“y’smell so good- y’er so tight- feel so- ngh- good! mine, right? don’t like other men around you! noooongh” – “w-wait! caleb! aah!” something in his mind upsetted him because the way he thrusts into your cunt is inhumane, caleb’s bigger frame presses you down on the mattress, the hair of his happy trail tickling your lower back as his skin slaps on yours.

you’re a mess, pussy drooling pathetically and stretched to her limit around him, juices spilling down your thighs and the mattress everytime he fucks his cock inside you. and when you’re sure you’re getting used to him, of fucking course caleb has to start talking again. “need to mark you, everyone need’ta know y’er mine, just mine. that’s my cock you’re clenching around. needa bite you, yeah.”

and he keeps up with his words, his loving, ticklish licks to the back of your neck turning into a sharp pain. you scream, squirming under him and one of your hands tries to slap whatever bit of his skin you can reach but it’s worthless. once caleb sets his mind into something, you’re definitely not the one that’s able to stop him with physical force. with a hand tightly around your waist and the other keeping your neck in place, his canine teeth sink down on your nape, biting down just enough to make the skin irritated and leave a scar for a few weeks.

and when you feel like you’re getting closer, his hips stop, his cock slips out of you and a strangled whine leaves your wet lips as he manhandles you, flipping you on your back. “you!-” annoying! you’re so annoying! bad dog!, you want to shout. “s-sorry. need to see your face.” he hisses as his eyes wander down at your breasts. “you’re so pretty, ahhh, so pretty. have i ever told you that?- fuck, mine and so pretty- oh-”

he doesn’t waste any time, his hands help your legs up his shoulders and he slips inside you again. his sunset colored eyes stare at his cock going in and out, in and out, in and out of you and he finally notices the creamy ring around the base of his length and smeared on your lips. it’s pinkish, he notes, probably from being too rough and not stretching you properly. he’ll say sorry later.

“you’re so-” he pants tiredly, “so pretty.” a sweaty hand gropes the fat of your tit, squeezing it under his large palm. “want t’a breed you- need to- fuck! need to get your tits swollen with milk-” caleb leans in once again, this time bending your body like a stick, pressing your legs closer to your chest in the process. his nose takes a whiff of the valley of your boobs before wrapping his lips around your free boob, playing with the other one with his hand.

your voice fails you once again. it’s not like you have the strength to judge him harshly again anyway. his tongue swipes at your hard nipple, sucking it like he has a point to prove. “and you would mghhh! would look so pretty and round and ah! everyone would know y’er mine, oh god-”

with a last kiss, as if sealing a promise, he lets go of your nipple with mercy and stands up again, kissing your knee as an apology for bending you like your bones are made of jello. and then it hits him. “o-oh! s’rry forgot you like this.” the hand squeezing your tit snakes down between you two, adding some much needed stimulation to your clit.

you jump, legs thrashing against his shoulders and back at the pleasure. you clench around him once more and this time, it’s his turn to squeal in pleasure. “o-oh fuck. ‘m cumming, g’nna breed you, yeah? fill you up, mhm? yeah? fuck! cummin’!” caleb whines before throwing his head back, his sweaty hair barely moving an inch away from his forehead while doing so, and his once steady thrusts turn languid, messy.

his cock twitches around you, spilling white, watery ropes in your pussy. bicolor orbs roll to the back of his skull as he feels his knot grow swollen at the base of his cock. even after coming, he keeps pistoning his hips in you, tiredly, but it’s the thought that counts.

at the weird, swollen and hot thing trying to fuck its way inside you, you mewl, eyes going wild open as caleb tries stretching you just a little more.

“caleb-? what the aha! fuck?” — “sorry!” he cries but keeps going anyway, his fingers working faster around your clit to make up for the pain. “jus’ a little more? ple- ase? it feels good, doesn’t it?” back to being stupid and pathetic apparently, because the way he stares at you with puppy dog eyes and begs is disgusting.

his other hand leaves your thigh to press down on your tummy and it becomes too much. your walls convulse around him and you cry, clit throbbing under his touch pathetically. the hand putting pressure on your bladder makes your eyes roll, your hands grip the sheets to the point of turning white.

“caleb! ah! oh my god- fuck- aha, cumming, i’m gonna cum! pl-please keep going!”

and you don’t have to ask him twice. he thrusts his cock in you a last time, his knot slipping in easier than he thought it would, thanks to your drooling cunt and his cum and that does it for you. your body goes static, hips bucking against his and back arching against the bed. his fingers don’t stop, rubbing your clit until you’re shaking uncontrollably and your juices spray on his thighs and lower stomach.

“oh-” — “don- not a word!” you manage to cry out.

“so… how long till it goes down?” you murmur tiredly against his shoulder, arms wrapped around his big frame as he lies on top of you. your legs feel sore, aching from being spread for so long, thanks to his cock still buried in you.

“an hour and a half, probably” caleb shrugs.

your eyes snap open. “an hour?!” — “and a half.” he barks with a chuckle.

“i hate you! you’re heavy, y’know?! argh, bad dog!” he only manages to laugh at your rage and lick your cheek, covering it in saliva.

⊹ ࣪reblogs are very much appreciated. thank you for reading!(*´▽`*)

#.littleapplle's pastries #.puppy!caleb #love and deepspace #lads #lads smut #lnds #lnds smut #love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb #caleb smut #xia yizhou #love and deepspace x reader #caleb love and deepspace #lads x reader #lnds x reader #caleb x reader #caleb x mc #caleb x y/n #caleb x you

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shokocide · 1 month ago

Text

STUCK WITH YOU - GOJO SATORU

summary. Gojo Satoru—strongest, cockiest, and, according to him, the hottest man alive—bows to no one. Until you came along and suddenly, he’s on his knees.

word count. 10.6k (i..dont know)

content. mdni fem! reader, zombie apocalypse au, violence, blood, pet names, satoru is a certified tease, cute banter because we love that here, they're so down bad for each other, smut, oral (fem rec.), p in v, loss of virginity (reader), praise, breeding, creampie, overstim, soft satoru <3

author's note. i miss my man

The sky had been burning when the world ended.

You were fifteen—just a kid with scraped knees and a heart too big for the horrors it was about to witness.

Sirens wailed through the streets, helicopters thundered above, and the sharp stench of smoke and decay clung to the air like death itself. One moment, your parents were urging you to run, voices trembling with fear. The next, everything shattered. A scream. Blood. The gurgled breath of something that wasn’t quite human anymore.

You had survived. Somehow. Alone.

But the cost of survival was everything.

The woods are silent, save for the crunch of your boots over frostbitten leaves. The moon hangs high above, pale and cold, casting everything in an unforgiving glow. You keep your knife gripped tight in one hand, the other cradling your growling stomach. It’s been three days since you last found anything remotely edible.

Every snap of a branch, every whisper of wind feels like a threat. Years alone have trained you to expect the worst.

Then you pause.

Smoke. Just a wisp of it in the air. You sniff again, slower this time. It's faint, but definitely there.

You move like a shadow, quiet and cautious, weaving through trees toward the scent. And then you see it:

A flickering campfire nestled in a hollow clearing, throwing gold and orange light onto the figures beside it. Two men. Asleep—at least, you hope they are. One is lying flat on the ground, the other propped against a log, limbs long and sprawled, a blindfold covering his eyes.

There’s food by the fire. Real food. Bread. Cans. Water.

You inch closer, heart hammering. It’s been years since you’ve seen other people. You don’t know if that makes this moment safer… or far more dangerous.

You creep into the circle of warmth, fingers itching toward the supplies. Just one thing. That’s all you need.

You barely breathe as you crouch beside the campfire, the heat brushing against your frozen skin like a long-forgotten comfort. Your fingers tremble as you reach for a loaf of bread—real bread—but just as your hand closes around it, your boot nudges something metallic.

CLANG.

The tin can hits the ground, and for a moment, silence swallows everything.

Then—movement.

You whip your head toward the two figures by the fire. One shoots upright in an instant, long-limbed and alarmingly fast. The other groans awake, slower, disoriented. You don’t even have time to run.

"Don't move," the taller one says—voice low, commanding. You meet his gaze and—holy hell.

Snow-white hair, cerulean eyes. He stands like someone who’s fought the world and won. His blindfold hangs around his neck, exposing everything. It's him—the one with the voice that makes your skin prickle and a face that doesn’t belong in this nightmare world.

"Well, well," he drawls, taking a step forward. "And here I thought we were the only pretty faces left."

You swallow, frozen. His companion grabs a weapon, steps forward too, more cautious.

"Who are you?" the second man demands.

The white-haired man’s eyes never leave yours. He smirks.

"She’s hungry. Look at her. Poor thing."

You clench your fists. You’ve survived too long to be pitied.

"Touch me and I swear to god—"

The man raises his hands, mockingly innocent.

"Easy, sweetheart. No one’s touching you… unless you want us to."

You scrunch up your face, disgusted and his grin widens just a little.

You lift your knife. “I don’t want trouble. I just need food.”

“I’d say knocking over our supplies in the middle of the night is kinda trouble,” the dark-haired one says. His hair is tied back, strands falling loose around his face, his grip on his weapon steady. “Who are you?”

You swallow thickly. It’s been so long since anyone’s asked you that. Your voice is hoarse. “Just someone trying to survive.”

The white-haired one takes a lazy step forward, hands raised in mock surrender.

“Chill, Suguru. She’s not here to kill us,” he says, and then turns back to you. “You got a name, mystery girl?”

You eye him warily. “…Why do you care?”

He grins. “Because mine’s Gojo Satoru. And this grumpy one is Suguru.”

Suguru rolls his eyes. “Don’t tell her our names, dumbass.”

But Gojo—Satoru, apparently—just shrugs, looking far too amused for someone who just woke up to a stranger trying to rob him.

Your fingers tighten on your knife. But something about him… those eyes… that voice…

“You really gonna stab the guy who might be your best chance at staying alive?” he asks, cocking his head. “Come sit. Eat. Or run. Up to you.”

Your stomach growls loudly.

Satoru grins wider. “That’s what I thought.”

You slowly lower your knife, but don’t put it away—not yet. Your eyes stay locked on them as you inch closer to the fire. The warmth should be a comfort, but your muscles are still taut, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.

Satoru sprawls back onto a log like he’s done this a hundred times. He’s still smiling—lazy, smug, like he’s enjoying this little show. Suguru doesn’t relax. He stays seated, but his eyes follow your every move, knife still held tight in his hand.

You kneel beside the fire, close enough to reach the food, far enough to lunge away if you need to. There’s a dented pot with some kind of stew, still warm, and a few pieces of bread wrapped in cloth.

“Help yourself,” Satoru says, waving a hand like he’s offering a royal feast. “We even warmed it up for you.”

You shoot him a glare but reach out cautiously, taking just a little. You sniff the stew first. Watch them.

“Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned,” Suguru says dryly.

“That’s what someone who poisoned it would say,” you mutter, tearing off a bite of bread.

Satoru snorts. “She’s got a mouth on her. I like her.”

You ignore that. Instead, you eat slowly, eyes flicking between them. They don’t move. Suguru keeps watch. Satoru lounges like this is the most interesting thing that’s happened all week.

“How long have you two been out here?” you ask finally.

“Long enough,” Suguru says, tone clipped.

"Too long," Satoru says, tossing a pebble into the fire like this is just another lazy night for him. "We move around, but we've got a base. Old prison, about twenty miles from here. You?"

You don’t answer right away.

“Alone,” you say after a beat. “I’ve been alone.”

The fire crackles between you.

Suguru’s gaze softens—just for a second. But Satoru’s smile stays.

“Well,” he says, stretching out his long legs, “you’re not alone anymore.”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m not staying.”

“Didn’t say you had to.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But something tells me you might not leave either.”

He’s not threatening. He’s just… certain.

You’re crouched by the fire, still tense, still not entirely trusting, when Satoru leans back on his hands, head tilted.

“You should come with us,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You’ll be safer.”

Your eyes flick to Suguru—he doesn’t hide the way his jaw clenches.

“She could be a liability,” Suguru mutters. “You don’t know her.”

“No,” Satoru agrees, grinning at you. “But I like her.”

Suguru sighs, deep and disapproving, but you see it—that soft flicker in his eyes that means he’s already given in.

Satoru turns back to you. “We’re heading out at first light. If you’re in, pack whatever you’ve got.”

You nod, hesitant. But, maybe… maybe this is the start of something.

A gentle nudge to your shoulder. Then a voice, light and annoyingly cheerful.

“Wake up, sleepyhead. Big day today.”

You blink awake to Satoru crouching beside you, white hair a wild halo against the rising sun. He grins.

“You snore, by the way.”

“I do not.”

“You do. It was cute.”

You groan, dragging a hand over your face. “Remind me why I agreed to come with you again?”

“Because I’m charming,” he beams. “Now come on. We've got a long way to go—and Suguru’s already in a mood.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe he wouldn’t be if you stopped talking.”

“Ohhh, savage!” he clutches his chest, stumbling back like you just stabbed him. “You wound me, stranger.”

You roll your eyes and sling your bag over your shoulder. “Not a stranger anymore, remember? You practically adopted me last night.”

Satoru grins, falling into step beside you. “True. You’re my problem now.”

“Joy,” you mutter, but your lips twitch despite yourself.

Suguru’s already waiting up ahead, arms crossed, brow arched like he’s already tired of this nonsense. “You two done flirting or should I keep walking?”

You open your mouth to protest, but Satoru gets there first.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Suguru.”

“I will leave you in the woods,” Suguru replies flatly.

“You’d miss me in an hour.”

“You wish.”

You stifle a laugh and glance between the two. “Are you always like this?”

Satoru flashes you a grin. “Buckle up, sweetheart. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

The trek through the forest had been relatively quiet—birds rustled above, trees whispering overhead, and Satoru talking your ear off. But midway through the journey, something shifts.

Suguru’s head tilts first, eyes narrowing at the faint crunch in the distance. Not a squirrel. Not a rabbit.

You hear it next.

Low. Guttural.

A hiss.

Then another.

They come from the trees. Slow at first—one stumbles into view, then two, then more. Rotting limbs. Glazed-over eyes. That sickening gurgle of hunger.

“Aw, shit,” Satoru grins like it’s a party. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

Suguru already has his blade drawn, calm as ever. “Don’t play around, Satoru.”

“No promises.” He rolls his shoulders, cracking his neck with a sharp tilt. “Time to impress the new girl.”

The first zombie lunges—and Satoru moves. A blur of motion, too fast to follow. The undead’s head twists unnaturally before it even hits the ground.

Suguru moves more fluidly—clean, precise slashes. No theatrics. Just deadly efficiency. His blade slices through two more, not even a drop of blood on him.

But they just keep coming.

Your heart pounds in your ears. Adrenaline surges. You’d been careful to avoid confrontation all these years, but this is different. You're not alone anymore. And you won’t be dead weight.

You draw your blade—sharpened scrap metal turned makeshift machete—and steady your breath.

One charges. You duck, spin, and drive the blade clean through its skull. Another reaches for you. You kick it back hard, burying your weapon in its chest before pulling it free with a grunt.

Satoru whistles low. “Well damn.”

“Focus,” Suguru mutters, cutting another down.

You move together now, three separate forces of destruction.

Satoru’s grinning like a madman, whirling and laughing with every kill. “You seeing this? She’s got bite!”

Suguru flicks blood off his blade. “You could take a lesson from her.”

Zombies litter the ground within minutes. The forest falls silent again—except for your panting breaths.

Satoru walks over, brushing blood off his cheek. “Well, that was fun. You good?”

You nod, chest still heaving. “Peachy.”

“Okay, badass,” he says with a grin, then nudges your shoulder playfully. “I take it back. You’re not just some lost little stray. You’ve got some claws.”

Suguru simply gives you a once-over, silent approval in his gaze.

You sheath your blade. “Told you I could handle myself.”

Satoru grins wider. “Yeah, and it was hot.”

The journey's been long, your legs aching from the endless trek, your guard never once lowered—not even with Satoru’s ridiculous jokes or Suguru’s unnervingly sharp eyes on you.

But when the trees begin to thin and the rusted silhouette of a massive abandoned prison looms ahead—walls towering, fences lined with jagged barbed wire, and lookout towers standing tall like watchful sentinels—you feel something you haven't in years:

Hope.

Gojo stretches lazily, like the walk didn’t faze him at all. "Home sweet hellhole," he grins. "Bet you weren’t expecting this kind of palace."

Suguru doesn’t say much, just gestures for you to follow. The guards on the watchtower whistle low when they see the trio approaching, and the gates creak open. Inside, the prison yard is alive—people bustling, fires burning in steel barrels, children laughing (actual children), and survivors moving with purpose.

You're stunned. You didn’t think this kind of order still existed.

A kid runs up to Gojo. “Satoru! You’re back!”

“Obviously,” he winks, tossing his jacket at the kid. “Miss me?”

You stare, wide-eyed.

“You’re like… respected here?”

“Terrifying, isn’t it?” Gojo deadpans. “Stick with me, newbie. I’ll show you the ropes. Maybe even let you survive.”

Suguru glances back, quiet for a moment. “Don’t get too comfortable. It’s safe, but it’s not paradise.”

Gojo leans closer to you as you're led through the gates.

“Don’t worry. If anything tries to eat you—aside from me—I’ll kill it.”

Your face burns and he just smirks like he’s got you all figured out.

“Aww, don’t get all shy, now. Where’d all that bite from earlier go?” he teases, voice low and entirely too smug.

You shove him with a scowl, cheeks still flaming. “Shut up, lecher.”

He stumbles back with a dramatic gasp, hand clutching his chest. “Lecher? Ouch. You wound me, sweetheart.”

Suguru sighs ahead of you. “Ignore him. He gets like this when he’s not punched often enough.”

Gojo just throws an arm around your shoulders, unbothered and still grinning. “Admit it, you missed human interaction.”

You glare up at him. “I missed silence.”

“Too bad,” he chirps, “you’re stuck with me now.”

You follow Gojo through the looming gates of the old prison turned fortress, the creak of rusted metal echoing off cold concrete walls. The place is… intimidating, but secure. High fences, makeshift watchtowers, guards with weapons patrolling like hawks. Survivors glance your way—curious, cautious—but no one approaches just yet.

“Well,” Gojo grins, throwing his arms out dramatically, “welcome to paradise, sweetheart.”

You shoot him a glare, but before you can answer, a voice calls out.

“Don’t call new recruits that, Gojo.”

A tall woman leans against the infirmary doorway, cigarette dangling between her fingers, lab coat stained with faded blood. She looks you up and down, then flicks ash to the ground with a sigh.

“Ieiri Shoko. I’m the doctor over here,” she says. “You look like hell.”

“…Thanks?”

“She means ‘you’ll fit right in,’” Gojo says brightly, nudging your shoulder. “She’s got a warm heart under all that… nicotine.”

Before you can respond, another figure approaches—sharp, calculating, blond hair swept neatly back and a stern face that reads no nonsense allowed.

“Nanami Kento,” he introduces himself. “I hope you know how to follow rules.”

You stiffen slightly. “Depends on the rules.”

Gojo chuckles. “Play nice, Nanamin. She’s new.”

“And she’ll stay alive longer if she learns structure.”

You barely have time to absorb that before someone barrels into the conversation like a human golden retriever.

“Gojo-sensei! You’re back!”

A pink-haired young man skids to a stop beside you, eyes wide with excitement. “Whoa—new person?! Hi! I’m Itadori Yuji!”

You blink, overwhelmed by the sudden burst of energy.

“Yuji,” Gojo sighs fondly. “Tone it down a little, yeah? She’s been through it.”

Yuji’s smile softens. “Right, sorry. Still—welcome. You hungry? We’ve got canned peaches! They’re not that bad if you hold your breath.”

A scoff cuts through the chaos.

“That’s how you welcome someone? ‘Peaches if you hold your breath’?”

You turn to see a girl with sharp eyes, short auburn hair, and a confident stance stroll up like she owns the place.

“Kugisaki Nobara,” she says, hand on her hip. “Don’t let the dumb smiles fool you—Yuji’s annoying, but he’s not dangerous. Usually.”

Yuji pouts. “Rude.”

And last, from the shadows near the barracks, a low voice.

“Don’t overwhelm her.”

A tall boy steps forward, dark hair, brooding expression. Cold eyes meet yours briefly before shifting away like he’s already bored of this interaction.

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

You blink. “Nice to meet you… all.”

“You’ll get used to the chaos,” Nobara says. “Eventually.”

Gojo’s grin widens, like a proud dad watching his weird little family.

“See? Told you you’d like it here.”

You’re not sure yet. But for the first time in years, you’re not alone.

The base is a repurposed prison, all concrete walls and rusted bars, but the way Gojo walks its halls, it might as well be a palace.

“Welcome to paradise,” he grins, pushing open a barred door that creaks like it’s complaining. “Don’t let the charming décor fool you. The rats love it here.”

You roll your eyes but follow him in. He gestures with a dramatic sweep of his arm. “Your very own cell—er, suite.”

The room is small, but clean. A bed shoved into one corner, a patched-up mattress, and even a chipped mirror on the wall. You nod, impressed despite yourself.

He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “I gave you the one with a window. You can thank me later.”

You smirk and step back out into the hallway. “Trying to impress me, Gojo?”

“Oh, absolutely. I’m a peacock in the apocalypse, baby.”

You laugh under your breath and follow him down a narrow hall. There’s a dip in the concrete, a crack in the floor you don’t notice until your boot catches—your heart jumps as you pitch forward, but Gojo’s arms are immediately around you.

Strong. Steady. Warm.

“Careful now,” he murmurs, voice all silk and smugness. “You fell for me already?”

You’re pressed against his chest, your breath caught in your throat, face heating up. He doesn’t move right away—his hands settle on your waist, casual and intimate in a way that makes your stomach flip.

You shove him off with a flustered glare. “Shut up, lecher.”

He grins, wide and infuriating. “That’s more like it.”

The rest of the tour is quieter. You pass rooms where others sleep, the mess hall, the infirmary where Shoko’s set up shop. You even glimpse Yuji hauling supplies with Nobara snapping at him in the distance.

But then Gojo stops in front of a heavy iron door—no windows, no markings. His face changes. The joking fades.

“Whatever you do,” he says, voice low, “don’t go into the commissary. Not alone. Not ever.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden seriousness.

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. His blue eyes sharpen beneath his snowy lashes.

“Because even monsters like us keep our secrets somewhere,” he says softly. “And some doors are locked for a reason.”

You stare at him, heart knocking against your ribs.

Gojo Satoru, unshakable, untouchable… looking haunted?

Your skin prickles.

But he flashes you that lazy grin again, like nothing happened. “Now come on. You haven’t seen the courtyard. Yuji likes to wrestle people out there—it’s horrible. You’ll love it.”

And just like that, the moment passes… but the warning stays.

The rooftop’s quiet late at night.

The chaos of the base fades into a hush, just the distant hum of wind brushing over cracked cement and rusted fences. You lie back against the cool surface, arms behind your head, eyes fixed on the sky above. For once, it’s clear. A spatter of stars gleam like glass shards across a velvet sky.

You let yourself breathe.

No infected. No screaming. No fear.

Just the stars.

Footsteps approach—light, familiar, cocky.

“I knew you were a stargazer,” Gojo says, easing himself down beside you with a dramatic sigh. “You’ve got that dreamy, melancholic look. So poetic.”

You don’t look at him. “You’ve got that annoying, uninvited energy. So parasitic.”

He barks out a laugh. “Ow. You wound me, sweetheart.”

A beat passes. Then another.

You can feel him watching you, but for once, he doesn’t speak.

And somehow, that’s more unsettling.

“…You alright?” you ask, finally glancing his way.

He’s leaning back on his elbows, white hair messy from the wind, blue eyes locked on the stars—but they’re distant. Quiet. A far cry from their usual teasing glint.

“I’m heading out tomorrow,” he says casually. “Scouting mission. Few days tops.”

You blink. “Oh.”

Something flickers in your chest. It shouldn’t. Not like this.

“Oh,” you repeat, softer. “Right.”

A part of you wants to ask why he’s going. Another part wants to pretend it doesn’t matter. You settle for neither, chewing your lip, trying to ignore the weight settling in your gut.

Satoru glances at you then, his smirk lazy but his voice just a touch softer.

“Try not to miss me, yeah?”

You scoff. “I’ll throw a party the second you leave.”

“That’s what they all say,” he murmurs, leaning just a little closer. “Then they realize how boring life is without me.”

His smile is all mischief—but behind it, there’s something warmer. Something real.

And for once… you don’t fire back. You just look at him.

Maybe you’ll miss him a little. Just a little.

You don’t expect his absence to linger. But it does.

You feel it in the small silences—the way the mess hall feels quieter without his dumb jokes echoing through it, how sparring sessions feel colder without him barging in with some smug, offhanded comment about your form.

At night, you find yourself back on the rooftop. The stars are still there, but they don’t sparkle like they used to. It’s stupid, you tell yourself, because what kind of person starts depending on a man like that?

He’s loud. He’s infuriating. He teases you relentlessly.

But… he saw you. When you thought no one ever would again.

Shoko notices the way you’ve been spacing out more. She doesn’t say anything until the third night.

“You okay?”

You nod. Too quickly. “Fine.”

She squints at you. “You’re not fine. You’re moping.”

“I’m not moping.”

She clicks her tongue. “Acting like someone’s girlfriend.”

You nearly knock your cup over. “I’m not—!”

But you don’t finish that sentence. Because the words feel too close to something you’ve been avoiding.

You try to bury it—tell yourself it’s just concern. You’re just… grateful. It’s not like that. You don’t miss his stupid smirk or the way he always stands too close just to fluster you. You don’t care about how his hair always looks so damn soft, or how his voice drops a little when he’s serious with you.

You don’t.

Then the whispers start.

“No signal from the scouting team.”

“They were supposed to be back by now.”

A cold chill snakes down your spine.

You start going to the gate more. Just to check. You pretend it’s coincidence.

It’s not.

You catch yourself gripping the straps of your bag harder than usual. You’ve never hated waiting so much in your life.

Until one evening—

The gates finally creak open.

Your breath catches in your throat as the guards call out a name. Several figures walk through the archway, dust and blood clinging to their clothes.

And there he is.

White hair, blue eyes. One sleeve ripped off, a gash on his collarbone, dried blood staining his neck—but he’s alive.

“Satoru,” you whisper, already walking forward.

His eyes find yours instantly. That grin pulls at his lips like it never left.

“Aww, did you miss me?”

You don’t answer. You just hit his shoulder. “Idiot.”

But then your hands linger, and before you can stop yourself, you’re pulling him into a tight hug.

He stiffens, just for a second. Then his arms slide around you, strong and warm.

“Try not to cry too hard,” he mutters, voice light—but there’s something tight beneath it.

“I hate you,” you mumble into his shirt.

“Sure you do,” he chuckles, and when you pull back, his smile softens.

You don’t know what this feeling is. Or maybe you do. You just don’t want to name it yet.

But you know this: You’re glad he came back.

And for now, that’s enough.

You wander the halls of the prison alone, the hum of fluorescent lights above your head flickering inconsistently. Satoru had taken the kids out back for training, and with nothing to do and no one to bother you, you figured you’d finally explore the rest of the base.

The place was massive—too massive. Each cell block looked like the next, corridors looping endlessly into each other until your curiosity outweighs your sense of direction. One door, rusted and slightly ajar, catches your eye.

You should’ve turned around.

You push it open.

Inside is dark, dusty. Shelves line the walls, broken crates and old rations tossed everywhere. You wander deeper, hesitant but unaware. That is…until it hits.

The smell.

Rotting flesh, stagnant air, the thick, unmistakable stench of death.

And then—movement.

Shuffling. A low groan. Shadows twitch. A hand smacks against a shelf and knocks it over with a crash.

They're here.

Your eyes snap wide and panic sets in instantly. There are so many.

You run.

You shove a metal shelf in their path, throw an old stool, anything you can get your hands on to slow them down. Your breaths are shallow, desperate. But just as you near the exit—

Your ankle gives out.

A sick snap, searing pain, and you crash to the floor with a cry. You scramble backward, pressing yourself against the wall, using your good leg to kick anything that comes close.

This is it. This is it.

You squeeze your eyes shut, heart pounding.

Gunshots.

The sound like thunder crashing right next to your ear.

You blink up, barely processing the white blur tearing through the undead like paper.

“I told you not to go in here!” he shouts, voice slicing through the chaos.

“Satoru—!”

The zombies turn just in time for Satoru to drive his fist into the nearest one’s chest, cracking bone and sending it flying back into the others like bowling pins.

“Seriously?” he growls, stepping in front of you, his broad back shielding your crumpled form. “I leave you alone for five minutes.”

One lunges from the side. Gojo ducks effortlessly, grabs it by the throat, and slams it into the ground so hard its skull splits open on impact. Another claws at his shoulder, but he just grabs its wrist, twists, and kicks out its knee in one brutal motion. It collapses, and he doesn’t even look as he drives a sharp piece of wood through its head.

And then—you're in his arms. Just like that.

Lifted effortlessly, pressed against his chest as he strides out of the hellhole.

You cling to him, trembling.

“I didn’t know it was the commissary,” you whisper between sobs. “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know—I just—God, I’m so sorry, Gojo, I—”

His voice is low, firm, but gentle. “Hey. Breathe. I’ve got you.”

You look up at him, lip quivering. “I—I made you worry…”

“Yeah, you did,” he says with a wry little smirk, but his eyes are too soft, too relieved to match it. “Don’t ever do that again, got it?”

You nod.

“Good,” he murmurs, brushing a sweaty strand of hair from your face. “Because if I lost you... I’d have to kill the rest of the world just for pissing me off.”

Your breath hitches.

You stare up at him, heart pounding, face flushed from more than just the sprint for your life.

“W-What kind of psycho logic is that?” you mutter, trying to deflect, your voice barely steady.

Satoru smirks down at you, still holding you effortlessly in his arms like you weigh nothing. “C’mon, don’t act so surprised. I’m dramatic, haven’t you noticed?”

“You’re insane,” you whisper, trying not to combust under his gaze.

“And you’re blushing,” he points out smugly, nose nearly brushing yours. “Kinda cute, actually.”

You twist in his hold, hiding your face against his shoulder. “Shut up,” you mumble, voice muffled.

He laughs softly, the sound vibrating through your chest. “Can’t. Teasing you is the only thing keeping me sane these days.”

You can feel the tension slipping away, replaced by something heavier, warmer. He lowers you gently onto a nearby bench just outside the danger zone, kneeling before you like it’s second nature, hands skimming your calves as he examines your ankle again.

When he looks up this time, his expression is different. Less playful. More raw.

“I meant it, you know,” he says quietly. “You scared the hell out of me in there.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” he cuts in, hand brushing yours. “But next time, brat, wait for me. No solo adventures.”

Your lips twitch. “You’re calling me a brat now?”

“Borrowing the title. Think I earned it after saving your ass.”

You huff a laugh, cheeks still warm. “…Thanks.”

His grin softens. “Anytime.”

And just like that, you both sit there—his fingers still wrapped gently around your hand, his thumb rubbing absent circles over your knuckles—as the adrenaline fades and something else takes its place. Something quieter. Heavier. Charged.

Satoru insists on carrying you the whole way to the infirmary, ignoring your every protest.

“This is unnecessary,” you mutter, burying your face in his shoulder to avoid every curious glance.

“You twisted your ankle and almost got mauled. Humor me,” he says, smug but gentle, like the two can coexist in him with ease.

He kicks open the infirmary door with his foot.

“Delivery for one idiot who wandered into a no-go zone,” he calls out casually.

Shoko looks up from her desk, raising a brow at the sight of you both. “Well, well. If it isn’t the base’s golden boy and his damsel in distress.”

“I wasn’t distressed,” you blurt out instantly, wiggling in Gojo’s hold.

“Oh?” she hums, amused. “You sure? Because I could’ve sworn I heard ‘Gojo! Help!’ from all the way down the hall.”

You splutter. “That’s not— I mean—”

“Loudly,” she adds with a pointed smirk.

Satoru just laughs and sets you down on one of the cots, his hand lingering a little longer than necessary on your back before stepping aside.

“She’s fine. Just the ankle,” he says. “But maybe check if she sprained anything else. She fell pretty hard.”

Shoko moves closer, completely ignoring the medical part for now, because she’s too focused on watching the both of you squirm.

“Ohhh,” she teases, eyes sparkling. “Look at the two of you. Cute. Almost like a couple.”

You and Satoru freeze at the exact same time.

“Nope!”

“Not a couple!”

“Definitely not!”

You shoot each other a panicked glance and then immediately look away, flustered messes in stereo.

Shoko snorts. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

You glare. “Can we just focus on my ankle now?”

“Fine, fine,” she drawls, clearly enjoying herself. “Just sayin’. Wouldn’t be the worst match. You get saved, he gets to play hero. Very fairytale.”

“I hate all of this,” you mutter under your breath, while Satoru just smiles to himself, unbothered but definitely pleased.

When Shoko starts wrapping your ankle, he leans against the wall with his arms crossed, watching.

And you swear you see it—that tiny, knowing glint in his eyes.

Like he wants her to say it again.

Because maybe, just maybe… he doesn’t mind the idea.

It’s later that night when there’s a knock at your door. You’ve barely had time to settle in, still awkwardly hobbling around on one foot with your bandaged ankle.

“Who is it?” you call.

“It’s your favorite,” comes the unmistakable voice from the other side.

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the tiny smile tugging at your lips. “Didn’t know Nanami suddenly got chatty.”

A muffled chuckle. “Ha. Hilarious. Open up.”

You limp to the door and unlock it. Satoru is standing there, a little disheveled, hands full.

“Brought you dinner,” he says casually, holding out a tray with two mismatched bowls, steam still curling from the soup. “Figured you might be tired of Shoko’s painkillers and snark.”

You blink, caught off guard. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” he says dramatically, stepping in without being invited. “That’s what makes me so noble.”

You laugh despite yourself, and he grins like that was the goal all along. He sets the tray down on your little desk, then gestures toward your bed.

“Come on, sit. Can’t have you falling over again. One near-death experience per day is my limit.”

You sit, trying not to look too charmed when he settles next to you—close, but not too close—just enough for your knees to brush.

“I still feel terrible about earlier,” you say after a moment, poking at the edge of your bowl. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“You didn’t worry me,” he says too quickly, too nonchalantly.

You glance up. “Liar.”

He sighs and leans back on his hands, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Fine. Maybe I panicked a little. Sue me.”

A silence lingers, not uncomfortable. Just… warm.

Then, softer: “Don’t do that again, okay?”

You look at him, really look at him—the shadows under his eyes, the slight dip in his brow, the way his voice softens when it’s just you and him.

And something in your chest stirs. Something that’s been creeping in, slow and steady, ever since he offered you food by a fire that first night.

You nod. “I won’t.”

He glances over, catches your gaze—and doesn’t look away this time.

There’s something unspoken passing between you. Familiar. Intense. Safe.

“You’re really something, y’know that?” he murmurs.

You raise a brow. “That supposed to be a compliment?”

He smirks. “Depends. You gonna fall harder for me if it is?”

You flush instantly. “Satoru—”

He laughs and nudges your bowl toward you. “Eat before it gets cold, princess.”

You grumble under your breath but dig in.

And Satoru?

He watches you with that same lopsided grin, heart doing something stupid in his chest.

Because yeah—maybe you fell.

But maybe he’s been falling, too.

It’s past midnight when you stir.

The pain in your ankle has dulled to a throb, but it isn’t what wakes you. It’s… something else. A presence. Warm. Close.

You blink against the low glow of the hallway light seeping under your door, and when your eyes adjust—

You see him.

Satoru.

Slouched in the chair by your bed, long legs awkwardly folded, head tipped to the side, snowy hair falling across his face in soft, messy tufts. His mouth is slightly parted, breathing slow and even. His arms are crossed, like he hadn’t meant to fall asleep there.

Like he was just keeping watch.

Just in case.

Your heart does a little flip.

You shift quietly, trying not to make a sound. But even with all your care, the mattress creaks—barely. His eyes snap open immediately, hand twitching toward a weapon that isn’t there. Pure instinct.

Then he sees you. And relaxes.

“Oh,” he breathes, voice gravelly with sleep. “You’re awake.”

You sit up slowly. “Were you… here all night?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Not all night. Just since… y’know. Evening.”

You squint at him. “Satoru.”

He sighs. “Fine. Yeah. All night.”

You stare at him. “Why?”

He shrugs, suddenly sheepish. “Wanted to make sure you didn’t wander off again and get yourself eaten.”

You frown. “You should’ve slept in your room.”

He smirks. “What, and miss out on babysitting you?”

You chuck a pillow at him.

He catches it easily and grins. But when he sees you holding his gaze, that grin softens.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he admits, quieter now.

Something gentle settles in your chest. You pull your blanket up and scoot slightly to the side.

“…There’s space. If you’re tired.”

He blinks at you. “Are you asking me to cuddle, orrrr…”

You glare. “I’m offering you a more comfortable sleeping arrangement.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

He slides in beside you carefully, so carefully, like you’ll break if he jostles you too much. And then you feel the warmth of him next to you, his presence steady and solid and safe.

“…This okay?” he murmurs, his voice a whisper in the dark.

You nod.

And slowly, slowly, you feel his fingers brush yours under the blanket. He doesn't hold your hand—not yet. Just touches.

Testing the waters.

You don’t pull away.

And in the silence that follows, you hear his breathing even out again.

But yours?

Yours is all over the place.

Morning sunlight filters through the barred window, casting soft stripes across your face.

You're warm. So warm.

Your cheek is pressed against something solid. Something that rises and falls gently beneath you. And there’s a hand resting at the small of your back, pulling you closer, keeping you there.

Your heart skips.

Your eyes blink open—and there he is.

Gojo Satoru. Asleep. Face relaxed and serene, messy white hair haloed in gold light. His other arm is curled under your pillow, supporting your head like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And you're lying on top of him.

Your breath catches in your throat.

You should move. You need to move.

But just as you're about to untangle yourself—

Click.

The door creaks open.

You freeze.

“Oh my god,” comes Shoko’s voice, casual, amused, and way too smug. “Well, well—what do we have here?”

You nearly leap out of bed, scrambling to sit up—only for your body to protest painfully, and you wince with a hiss.

Satoru wakes with a start, blinking up at Shoko in confusion before slowly realizing the position you're in.

“Oh,” he says blankly. “Morning, doc.”

You swat his shoulder. “Say something useful?!”

Shoko just leans against the doorway, arms crossed, grinning like she’s discovered the world’s juiciest secret. “No no, don’t let me interrupt. I was just checking on the patient, but clearly, she’s in very good hands.”

You’re burning. “It’s not what it looks like!”

Shoko raises a brow. “Oh, so you weren’t cuddled up like two lovebirds all night? Should I tell Nanami you’ve finally found someone willing to put up with your nonsense, Satoru?”

He stretches lazily and pulls the blanket back over himself with a smirk. “Actually, yeah. Tell him. Maybe then he’ll finally stop lecturing me about responsibility.”

You groan and bury your face in your hands. “I’m never going to live this down.”

Shoko chuckles, walking away. “Nope. I’m telling everyone.”

The door clicks shut behind her.

Silence.

You glare at Satoru through your fingers. “This is your fault.”

He grins. “You offered me a spot on the bed, your majesty.”

You shove a pillow at him. He catches it—again.

And then he smiles, soft and teasing, voice still a little raspy from sleep.

“...So. Want me to sleep over again tonight?”

“Get out.”

The first few days are rough.

You try to walk without limping. Try to reach for things on your own. Try not to feel like a burden.

But then there’s him.

You wake up to warm food at your bedside, Satoru leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin. “Brought you breakfast in bed, sweetheart. Don’t get used to it—I’m not always this nice.”

He very much is.

He offers his arm without asking when you need support. Doesn’t mention it when you wince or grit your teeth. Just lets you lean on him, like you’ve always belonged there.

You try to carry something heavy across the hall—he appears out of nowhere, snatching it from your hands. “Tsk. You trying to die or what?”

You try to help in the kitchen. He catches you wobbling and swoops in with a hand around your waist. “Whoa there, Bambi. What happened to ‘taking it easy’?”

You try to sneak off to explore the base again. He corners you in the hallway with a look that says absolutely not. “You’re still healing, brat. Unless you want me to carry you everywhere again?”

Cue your entire face combusting.

He’s annoying. Cocky. Ridiculously persistent.

But…

He adjusts your blanket when you’re asleep on the couch. Tucks a water bottle by your side without saying anything. Teaches you how to balance properly on one foot so your ankle can recover without straining the other.

And at night, when you think everyone’s asleep, you catch him checking on you—quietly, carefully. Making sure you’re okay.

You pretend not to notice.

But your heart notices. It notices everything.

You stand in the middle of your room, shifting your weight onto your healed ankle, then back again. No pain. No tightness. Just a deep breath and the quiet realization:

You’re better. Finally.

The door creaks open without warning—because Satoru never knocks—and in he strolls with his usual swagger and two mugs in hand. “Morning, sweetheart. Brought you—"

He stops in his tracks.

You’re standing. Not limping. Not clutching the edge of the bed for balance.

Just… standing.

He squints, slowly lowering one mug. “...Why aren’t you in bed?”

You raise a brow. “Because I’m not dying?”

“Oh no. Absolutely not.” He sets the mugs down and points a very offended finger at you. “You don’t just get to get better without warning me. I was emotionally invested in this arc.”

You laugh. “Sorry to ruin your Florence Nightingale fantasy.”

“Ruin? Excuse you, I was thriving. Who’s gonna let me spoon-feed you now?”

You roll your eyes, limping toward him just to mess with him. “I could pretend, if it makes you feel better.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

He walks over before you can say anything else—his hands hover, cautious at first, then one slides to your waist. “You really okay?”

You nod. “I’m good. Really.”

Satoru lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Then he grins. “Alright. Guess that means I can stop being your personal nurse and go back to being your favorite nuisance.”

You’re smiling. He’s back to teasing. But there’s a softness in his eyes that lingers a little too long, a thumb that brushes your hip before falling away.

He missed taking care of you.

And maybe, just maybe, you kind of miss being taken care of.

You’re jogging laps around the edge of the prison yard, the early morning chill nipping at your cheeks. It’s peaceful—quiet enough that your footsteps and the rhythmic beat of your breath are the only sounds you hear.

Until a familiar voice breaks through the silence.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite brat, back in action.”

You slow down, a smirk tugging at your lips as you turn toward the voice—and promptly choke on air.

Satoru.

Stretching.

Shirtless.

His snowy hair tousled from whatever ungodly workout he’s been doing, sweat gleaming on the hard lines of his chest and abs like the universe conspired to craft a Renaissance painting just to spite you. His sweats hang low on his hips, revealing that infuriating V-line that should not be legal in a post-apocalyptic society.

You blink. Once. Twice.

He grins, catching the way your eyes are very not subtly stuck on him.

“Like what you see?”

You scowl, instantly turning your gaze to a very fascinating patch of dirt on the ground. “Please. I’ve seen better.”

“Mmhm.” He takes a deliberate step forward, arms crossing over his annoyingly perfect chest. “Name one.”

“...”

“That’s what I thought.”

You huff and start jogging again, forcing your eyes to stay forward. But then he jogs up beside you—shirtless and smug, of course—and easily matches your pace.

“You sure you’re fully healed? What if you, I dunno… trip and fall again?” he says, tone mockingly sweet. “Need me to catch you, princess?”

“I’d rather faceplant into a zombie.”

He laughs, low and lazy. “I dunno, that sounds painful. Better to land on something soft. Like me.”

You glare at him, cheeks burning. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” he nudges you playfully with his elbow, “you’re still jogging next to me. Who’s really winning here?”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth crawling up your neck. But deep down, you know.

He’s definitely winning.

After the jog, Satoru insists you “cool down” with some light sparring. You roll your eyes, but follow him to the training mats anyway. He’s already bouncing on his heels when you step in front of him, still shirtless, still smug.

“You sure you’re up for this?” he teases. “Wouldn’t want to break you again.”

“I’m more worried about bruising your ego,” you shoot back, taking your stance.

He whistles low. “Feisty. I like it.”

The sparring begins—light jabs, easy dodges. You’re nimble, focused, but he is... effortless. Every time you swipe at him, he ducks with a grin. When you go in for a kick, he sidesteps and lets out an exaggerated yawn.

“You done yet, sweetheart?” he asks, still dancing around you. “At this rate, I could do this blindfolded.”

“Shut up and hold still!” you lunge at him again—this time faster, bolder—but he grabs your wrist mid-swing and spins you around so fast the world tilts. Before you know it—

You’re pinned.

Back hits the wall. His hand holds your wrists above your head, other arm braced beside you. His body is dangerously close, breath fanning your cheek. His tone shifts, deeper. Rougher.

“You keep mouthing off like that,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming, “I might start thinking you want me to put you in your place.”

Your breath catches. “I—”

“Hmm?” he leans in, lips ghosting your jaw. “No witty comeback now?”

You try to move, but his grip tightens just slightly. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind you that this isn’t a game anymore.

“I could kiss you right now,” he whispers, “and there’s nothing you could do about it.”

Your heart hammers in your chest. “You wouldn’t.”

He smiles. Slow. Dangerous.

“Wanna bet?”

Your breathing is shallow, heat rising to your cheeks. You’re acutely aware of how close he is, the way his chest brushes against yours with every breath, the sharp glint in his eye, the smirk that’s far too smug for your sanity.

And then—

His lips graze your neck. Barely there. A soft brush of heat against your skin. You flinch—not out of fear, but from the jolt that shoots down your spine. Goosebumps bloom instantly. His breath tickles your skin.

“Sensitive,” he hums, lips ghosting up toward your jaw, “...cute.”

“Satoru—” you whisper, voice barely audible.

He pulls back just enough to look at you. His gaze drops to your lips, heavy and unblinking. And he leans in, slower this time, like he wants you to feel the anticipation. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat—

And then—

“AM I INTERRUPTING SOMETHING?”

You both jolt like you’ve been electrocuted.

Satoru spins around with a groan, still caging you against the wall. “Shoko. Seriously?”

She stands a few feet away, arms crossed, one brow cocked and a wicked smirk playing at her lips. “Wow. Could cut the tension with a scalpel. Should I come back later or just pass you a condom now?”

“Shoko,” you squeak, face on fire, squirming to escape Gojo’s hold.

He lets you go reluctantly, chuckling under his breath. “You wish you caught the good part.”

“I did catch the part where your face was buried in her neck like a starving vampire,” Shoko deadpans.

You bury your face in your hands.

Satoru just laughs. “You jealous?”

“Please. I'd rather not watch my coworkers dry hump in public,” she says, already turning on her heel. “Anyway. You two lovebirds done? I need one of you to help with supplies.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gojo waves her off. Then he glances back at you, still all flushed and flustered, and leans down one last time to whisper in your ear:

“To be continued, princess.”

And just like that, he strolls off like nothing happened.

You're left against the wall, heart pounding, neck tingling, completely and utterly undone.

It’s quiet for once.

Most of the clan is out on a supply run or patrolling the perimeter. You’d offered to stay behind, helping Shoko reorganize her medical supplies before wandering off with a basket of laundry—warm clothes folded under your arm as you pace the empty corridors of the prison, barefoot, relaxed.

You finally set the basket down in the communal quarters, humming under your breath while sorting through what belongs to who. It’s… peaceful. The late afternoon sun slants in through the high windows, bathing everything in warm light.

Until—

“Picking up where we left off?”

You jolt, nearly dropping the shirt in your hands.

Gojo.

Leaning against the doorframe, casual as ever, sleeves pushed up, hair a bit messy like he just woke from a nap. His eyes are glinting beneath the lazy droop of his lashes, and that smirk—that godforsaken smirk—is unmistakable.

He saunters in before you can get a word in.

“Geez, you sneak up on people like a damn ghost,” you mumble, cheeks already burning as you turn back to the laundry.

“Aw, don’t be shy now,” he teases, coming closer. “You weren’t so shy when I had you pinned against the wall.”

You stiffen. “You got interrupted. Big difference.”

“Oh? So you wanted me to kiss you?”

You glare at him over your shoulder, but he’s already behind you, arms slipping around your waist—loosely at first, giving you a chance to push him away.

You don’t.

“I was thinking about you,” he murmurs against your ear. “All damn day. Thought I’d come see how you were holding up without me.”

“I was fine,” you huff, but it’s so breathless it betrays you instantly.

He chuckles. “That right?”

His hands glide up your sides, slow and sure, fingertips teasing the hem of your shirt. “C’mon, sweetheart. Just admit it—you missed me.”

You turn in his arms, glaring—but it’s weak at best. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Maybe,” he leans in, forehead brushing yours, voice dropping, “but I still remember how fast your heart was beating last time.”

You swallow.

And this time? There’s no Shoko to walk in. No patrols due back. No reason to stop.

You hesitate for a beat.

And then you pull him in by the collar.

The kiss is feral. All teeth and tongue and breathless gasps. Weeks—months—of tension snapping all at once. His hands find your waist, gripping tight as he hoists you up like you weigh nothing.

“Fuck—” he groans against your lips. “You’ve been killing me, y’know that?”

You wrap your legs around his waist and tug him closer. “Good.”

He pulls back, grinning. “Oh, you wanna play it like that?”

You don’t get a chance to answer before he’s kissing down your jaw, your neck, dragging that maddening tongue of his down your collarbone. His hands are everywhere—palming your hips, your thighs, sliding under your shirt like he owns you.

Which, at this point, maybe he does.

“Tell me to stop,” he pants, hovering over your lips again. “Tell me now, and I will.”

You look him dead in the eyes, tug his shirt over his head, and whisper:

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Your back hits the nearest wall with a muffled gasp, Satoru’s mouth already on yours, hungry and hot. His hands roam your body like he’s memorizing it with touch alone, fingers tugging at fabric with a frustrated groan.

“Off,” he growls into the kiss, already pulling your shirt over your head like it's offended him. He sets you down to pull your pants down along with your panties. And the moment you’re bare before him, he stands back, breath catching in his throat. His eyes—icy blue and blown wide with lust—roam your figure, landing on your chest like he’s just been given the meaning of life.

“…Can I motorboat your tits?”

You blink.

You laugh, startled and breathless. “Are you—are you serious right now?”

His lips curve into a wolfish grin, and he’s already surging forward to kiss you again. “Maybe next time,” he mumbles between kisses. “I don’t think I can wait to taste you now.”

You arch a brow, teasing, breath catching when he trails his mouth down your jaw. “Next time?”

He chuckles, low and dark. “You think I’m letting you off the hook after this?” His hands slide down your waist, thumbs stroking your hips. “Nah, sweetheart. I’m gonna ruin you.”

Then he sinks to his knees.

The grin fades into something hungrier, more reverent as he kisses the inside of your thigh, dragging his teeth gently across soft skin. “Spread ‘em for me,” he says, voice a whisper but firm. And when you do, he groans like he’s just tasted something forbidden.

You cry out the second his tongue touches you, hands flying to grip his hair. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t want to. It’s slow, torturous—his pace deliberate as he works you open, devouring like a man starved. His moans vibrate against your skin, and when your legs tremble, he just pins them open wider, groaning, “That’s it… let me hear you, baby.”

Your back arches as Satoru licks another slow, devastating stripe up your core, tongue curling at your entrance before he moves to suck gently on your clit. Your fingers tighten in his hair, thighs instinctively trying to close around his head—but his arms loop under your knees, spreading you wider, holding you open like he owns you.

“You're not going anywhere,” he mutters, eyes flicking up, glazed over with lust and something dangerous. “Told you. I’m gonna ruin you.”

Then he’s back at it—slower this time, tongue flattening against you, then circling, dragging soft groans out of you as the tension coils tight in your belly. He eats you out like he’s trying to memorize the taste of you, savoring every movement, every moan he draws. He alternates between deep, dragging strokes and sharp, teasing flicks, lips closing around your clit to suck just hard enough to make your breath hitch.

You cry out, hips bucking up into his mouth, and he growls—low and throaty—as if turned on by how wrecked you already are.

"Fuck—so sweet," he groans, voice muffled against you. “Could stay down here all night.”

And he means it. He shifts slightly, tongue plunging into you now, slow and shallow, nose nudging your clit as he drinks in every sound you make like it fuels him. Every little tremble, every whimper—he devours it.

He doesn’t stop. Not when you start trembling, not when you whine his name in warning. He keeps going, lips slick and relentless, until—

Your vision whites out. Your body tightens, back bowing, mouth falling open on a silent scream as you fall over the edge, pleasure shattering through you like a storm.

Only then does he pull back, lips and chin glistening. He breathes hard, eyes dark and blown, grinning like he just won a war.

“That’s the sound I wanted to hear.”

He stands up again to pick you up, carrying you to the nearby table, settling you on it, completely bare under the low light, legs parted slightly, chest heaving. You’re flushed, trembling—not from fear, but anticipation. Nerves. Heat. It’s all crashing together in your head, and he sees it.

His hands move to his waistband, fingers curling beneath the fabric of his pants. He tugs them down with practiced ease, freeing himself—and your breath catches.

Your eyes drift down instinctively, and your stomach tightens at the sight of him. He’s big. Thick, flushed, already hard and aching.

Your pulse stutters, nerves flickering to the surface. “Oh…”

“Hey,” he says gently, fingers brushing your cheek. “You okay?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. “It’s just… I’ve never done this before.”

Satoru freezes for a moment. His expression doesn’t shift much—but his eyes, bright and blue, soften in an instant.

“…You haven’t?” he asks quietly, tone a stark contrast to the sinful smirk he wore earlier. You shake your head.

He exhales slowly, like he’s grounding himself. Then he leans in and kisses you—slow, patient, loving.

“Well, fuck,” he murmurs against your lips. “Now I really have to behave.”

You blink up at him. “You? Behave?”

He chuckles, brushing his thumb over your lower lip. “Okay, maybe not completely. But I’ll go slow. Make it good for you. You trust me, right?”

You nod.

“Good.” His voice drops a little. “Then let me take care of you, yeah?”

He’s gentle—so gentle it almost breaks you. His lips move from your mouth to your jaw, down your neck, to your chest. He pauses there, kissing over your breasts, fingers caressing your sides as though you might disappear if he’s not careful.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes. “Gonna remember this forever.”

When he finally lines himself up, he doesn’t rush. He keeps kissing you, whispering into your skin.

“Breathe with me,” he says. “Nice and easy, baby. Just relax.”

The stretch burns, but his voice never leaves you. His hands never stop moving—stroking your sides, brushing your hair from your face, thumbing away the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes.

“You’re doing so good,” he murmurs. “So tight, fuck—squeezing me like you were made for me.”

Your breath catches, eyes fluttering shut.

“Look at me,” he says softly, “I wanna see your face.”

You meet his eyes—blown wide with emotion, affection, reverence. And that’s when he starts to move. Slowly, so slowly you can feel everything. Every drag, every pull.

“Feels good?” he asks, and when you nod, he smiles like you’ve just handed him the universe.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, picking up pace just a little. “Takin’ me so well, sweetheart. My pretty girl, lettin’ me be her first.”

You moan—part embarrassment, part bliss—and he kisses the sound from your mouth.

“Can’t believe no one’s touched you like this before,” he mutters against your skin. “But I’m glad. Glad it’s me. Glad I get to show you.”

He starts rolling his hips deeper, each thrust slow and purposeful, coaxing pleasure out of you bit by bit.

“Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

You’re already gasping—your body burning, overstimulated from the build-up and the way he moves inside you. Every drag of him is a stretch, a delicious ache, and you’re trying so hard to keep up, to breathe, to hold yourself together—but it’s too much.

And then it hits.

Your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave—louder, sharper, more intense than the last—and your body tightens instinctively, your walls fluttering around him like they don’t want to let him go.

“Fuck—” Satoru’s voice breaks, a guttural groan tumbling from his throat as he stills, trembling above you. “You’re gonna ruin me, baby…”

His grip tightens on your waist, jaw clenched as he tries to hold back—but you’re squeezing him so tight, so perfect, and his restraint shatters.

“You’re killin’ me,” he grits out, starting to move again—deeper, slower, more intentional—but there’s an edge of desperation now. His forehead presses to yours, breath ragged. “Feels so good—fuck, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You shake your head, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t stop,” you whimper, barely able to form the words. “Please…”

He kisses you hard—like he can’t help himself, like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. “You’re doin’ so good for me, sweetheart. So, so good…”

“‘Toru-” you whimper.

That breaks him.

He groans, slamming into you harder, mouth finding your neck as he nips and kisses down to your collarbone. “Fuck. Say it again.”

You whimper again, brain hazy. “‘Toru…”

He kisses you slow then, deeper. Rough pace never faltering, but his hands gentler now—one wrapping around your waist, the other brushing the hair from your face.

“Mine,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re mine now, yeah?”

You nod desperately, legs locking around his hips. “Yours.”

“Damn right,” he grits, driving into you harder, chasing both your highs with everything he has.

The overstimulation has tears stinging your eyes, your legs trembling, voice catching on every moan. And when that next orgasm builds too fast, too hard—it snaps through you like a live wire. Your body arches off the table, clamping down around him again—

—and Satoru snaps.

“Shit—take it, baby. Let me fill you up, yeah? Gonna make you mine, fuck, you already are—look at you...” he chokes out, thrusting deep one last time before he comes, spilling into you with a long, breathless groan. His arms wrap around you as if to anchor himself, holding you so close, like he needs to feel every inch of you, inside and out.

“Look at you,” he murmurs between pants, pressing kisses across your face. “Takin’ me so well… You’re mine now, yeah? All mine.”

You nod, dazed and boneless, wrapped in his warmth.

And he stays like that, inside you, forehead resting against yours as he murmurs soft, reverent praises—like this wasn’t just your first time.

Like it was everything.

Your body’s still trembling—nerves fried, skin flushed, heart thudding against your chest as if it’s trying to burst free. You’re barely aware of anything except the warm, strong arms pulling you into a careful embrace, the kiss he presses to your temple like it’s the most sacred thing he could ever do.

“Hey…” Satoru murmurs, voice all honey and rasp, rough around the edges but impossibly gentle. “You okay?”

You nod, chest rising and falling against his, cheeks still hot, but there’s a smile on your lips.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Just… wow.”

He laughs softly, the sound low and breathy as his fingers brush along your spine in lazy, soothing strokes. “You were incredible,” he says, and he means it. Every word. “So good for me. So perfect.”

Your face scrunches with a flustered noise, burying it into his shoulder. “Stop…”

“Never,” he grins, nosing into your hair. “You don’t get to be all pretty and sweet and make those sounds and expect me to stay quiet about it.”

You groan. “Satoru—”

“Shhh.”

His palm rests on your back as he holds you close, thumb drawing lazy circles. You can still feel the dull, pleasant ache of him inside you, the heat he left behind. His breath is warm against your cheek. Safe. Comforting.

“You did so good, baby,” he murmurs again, pressing a kiss just beneath your jaw. “First time and you still managed to rock my fucking world.”

Your heart stutters. “Wasn’t just the sex,” you say quietly.

He stills for half a second—and then he smiles, soft and genuine.

“I know,” he whispers.

You’re still breathless, body flushed and boneless in his arms when Satoru gathers you close, lips pressed gently to your temple. The air between you is warm, quiet save for the distant hum of life around the base. He shifts a little, glancing down at the table beneath you both, and you catch that flicker in his eyes—guilt, soft and creeping.

“I should’ve…” he starts, voice low, almost sheepish. “Shit, I should’ve taken you somewhere better. A bed, a blanket, something that wasn’t a hardass table. It was your first time and I just—” He pauses, brows pinching like the regret’s eating at him now. “I got selfish.”

You lift your hand to his cheek, thumb brushing over the corner of his mouth. “Hey,” you whisper, leaning in until your lips ghost over his, shutting him up with a kiss so soft, so full of emotion it makes his heart stutter.

When you pull back, your smile is small but sure. “It was more than okay. Because it was with you.”

Satoru blinks, breath caught in his throat. And for once, the man with a mouth like a wildfire doesn’t have anything to say.

Until he pulls you tighter into his chest and mutters, “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You just grin into his skin. “Guess we’ll go down together then.”

Then silence. Not awkward, not tense—just full of warmth. Full of everything. His arms around you. Your fingers laced with his.

You don’t say it. Not yet. But maybe one day soon.

For now, the way he holds you like you’re something to be cherished?

It’s more than enough.

author's note. finally have time to post consistently! last month or two were BUSY so couldn't do much </3 i'm proud of how this one turned out ^^ also, shoko is such a baddie i love her

please do not steal, modify, or translate my work.

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