#why not take a gentle hand?
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cauldron-of-oddities · 7 months ago
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So I can't know what Amanda was exactly thinking but I have some thoughts (as alas it is occasionally something I get to deal with in my worklife; kids rarely lash out without reason) and it has actually been bugging me, because the girl’s always wanted love and acceptance, and craves it. You can't tell me Ekko's (presumed) offer would have been turned down, just like that. Something probably triggered it.
One: would probably be “This is not you.” And Jinx is probably desperate to be tough, so the world can't hurt her again, and he's telling her to be what she perceives as her weak self. It's probaly two fold: Why won't you accept me? And: Stay away from me (to be safe).
Two: The love for the parent/caretaker.
Never make the parent an enemy or put them in a bad light, with the child present. Why not? Is what you'd think in the case of abusive, manipulative, or demanding parents.
You stay neutral. You offer the child a safe space. You set a good example of support of understanding, care, and respect. But you do not villainize.
Why? Because of emotional bonds, of love. Because of loyalty, because of guilt. There's a danger of driving the kid away and reaffirming the partens notion of 'seethere's only me to rely on'. That's the thing you want to avoid.
And well, I think we have more than enough probable cause to say that Ekko definitely sees Silco as a villain.
So Jinx has locked Powder away, embraces her hurt and loneliness as a shield and turns to the monster who embraced her. Who else could love her? She is Jinx. And this is the one person(monster) who lets her be strong, who loves the monster. This is where her loyalty and love have gone.
And then there's this. Kids (tween in this case) mimic what is done to them, often subconsciously.
They're not fully (if at all) aware of what they're doing, just reenacting the hurt.
And wasn't that slap the most painful thing done to her along with her perceived abandonment? The proof that she's a jinx.
How better to drive someone away? How better to (try) to shatter a bond? Then, to inflict the act, that caused yours to break.
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zaahvi · 5 months ago
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"I am Elgar'nan — First of the Firstborn, Last of the Evanuris."
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rottingghosty · 21 days ago
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Beauty in Death | DC X DP
cw / tw for jason’s death, mention/implied of dying because of asphyxiation / explosion & other things (because really jason died from a lot of things in the moment)
filing for taxes reminds me i am very much an adult and i loathe taxes. anyway here’s a prompt for you before the wolves (busy work days) take me once more. not a fan of this one honestly, i feel like it could’ve been written better but this was just a plot bunny i had so it gets what it guys *vague gestures*
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
There was an odd beauty in Death, its something that Jason has been aware of. It was obvious in the way as he could feel the smoke inhalation begin to affect him along with the burns from the explosion. His vision blurred heavily he accepts his fate, his own mother sold him out but he couldn’t be bitter about it. He tried to save him, tried his best as a Robin and to help others.
Everything hurt, his eyes stung from the smoke even if Jason knew they’d sting from tears if he was able to.
“Shhh… it’s alright. You don’t need to stay strong anymore Jason.”
A soft, soothing voice told him and he wanted to turn to see who was here— how they were here. He gave a wheezy response as a figure entered his rather blurry field of view. His lungs felt heavy, they burned alongside the stinging sensation across his body. He thinks he could vaguely feel the stickiness of blood pooling underneath him from the stray rebar from whatever was in warehouse that managed to hit him. He couldn’t feel where it exactly it hit but he felt so cold.
Would Bruce be okay? Is he looking for him? Jason hopes that Bruce doesn’t blame himself and that Dick keeps an eye on the older man.
Everything hurts. He’s so tired, he hopes B forgives him for not listening. Gentle hands place themselves on his cheeks before they move up to where his eyes are. The blue hue of their skin obvious as a soft rumbling was heard. Was another explosion going to happen? This person needs to leave. There shouldn’t be another death at the hands of Joker. His mouth opened to speak but he was shushed softly.
“You’ve done enough Jason. You can relax, come home with me.” The person gently murmured and Jason took a weak breath and suddenly it felt so much easier to breathe, how was that possible?
“That’s it Jaybird, follow my voice.” Jason knows stranger danger, he grew up in Crime Alley where you couldn’t trust anyone as far as you can see or throw them but something about this person was like a siren call. It made Jason feel at home, like he was wrapped up in one of mom’s hugs— Not Shelia’s— Catherine’s. Oh how he missed his mom, how she’d wrap him up in her arms to protect him from the cruelty of the world.
How she and dad tried their best despite the hand that was dealt to them by the world.
Jason is just still a little boy who craves comfort and love, he releases a whine and it’s all it takes for the blue person to wrap him up in their arms. A soft coo escaping the person who held him in their arms, cradling him like he was a baby and not a teenager. It made him giggle as the person bounced him briefly.
“Aren’t you a sweet Robin for me? Such a darling, Catherine was right about you. A sweet little Jaybird.”
Jason opened his eyes when had he closed them— to stare into the swirling green of the boy his age who gave him a sweet smile that Jason could feel his own cheeks flushing at. He rarely gets a smile like that, last time someone smiled at him like that was Rena back in school after he brought her chocolate for valentine’s day.
“Hi, do you want to come hang out with me?”
Jason shouldn’t, B’s probably looking for him and he’s got to apologize to B for running away. Then he’s gotta apologize to Alfie and and—
He takes a deep breath.
Suddenly everything he thought of fades away and all he can think about is not hurting anymore and hoping B forgives him for being stupid.
“Yeah!” Jason— Robin chirps sweetly at the boy boyghostkinghalfafriend who gives Robin a big grin as a swirling, toxic green portal opens before them and the boy takes him away in a whirlwind that causes Robin to give a shrieking laugh.
Oh poor Robin who will remain unaware of his own death for months, who will haunt the minds of Batman and Nightwing- Bruce and Dick, father and brother. Who will forever remain unaware of the grieving his family did at his death as his gets forcibly dragged away from the Ghost Zone before being dumped in the Lazarus Pit and furious.
The poor Robin who will forget his friends back in the Ghost Zone.
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wishchip106 · 3 months ago
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thinking about Erik making his furniture really low to the ground again
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was he actually planning for the day Charles would join him when he built his home?? 😭😭
i’m crying why is he like this
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thatsitso · 2 years ago
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Just finished The Lord of the Rings (I cried)
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gynandrophagy · 10 months ago
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it’s dark. the machine pulls speech and static hum from the air — it would be just stray photons and radio waves, if not for you —
within you the darkness shimmers — and I’m the movement in it, the cold in your chest — and I’m the voice inside the voices, inside your pareidolia cascading between sight and sound and your buzzing fingertips, and through you, as I grow the static swims in the dark and I become
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lacyblades · 9 days ago
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౨ৎ virgin!reader who really wants fratboy!satoru to take her v-card.
"just the tip," you breathe, the words a soft plea against his lips. they're swollen and tender from his kisses, and his fingers gently brush a stray strand of hair from your flushed cheek. you're perched so prettily on his lap, your pupils blown wide, face flushed.
satoru clicks his tongue, shaking his head, a small, regretful smile playing on his lips. "sorry, cherry. no can do."
a frustrated whine escapes you, a puff of warm air against his skin. "but… why?"
"because," he says, his thumbs lightly tracing the curve of your jaw, "it never ends up being just the tip. the second i try to do what you want, i know i'll cave." he playfully squishes your cheeks together, forcing a pout that doesn't quite reach your heated eyes.
"well, is that such a bad thing?" you ask, your voice thick with lust. "don't you want to have sex with me?"
"obviously, i want to have sex with you," satoru says, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest as he rolls his eyes. "i just… i want us to take it slow, okay?"
you groan, throwing your head back in exasperation. "seriously? we've been taking it slow. just. the. tip. baby steps, right?"
satoru chews on his bottom lip, feeling shameful for even considering it. he'd promised himself he wouldn't rush this, that he'd give you the best first time possible. you deserve that.
but then there you are. his girl. right here. your discarded shirt lies on the floor, and the lace of your bra does little to hide the tempting press of your perky nipples. it isn't entirely his fault if his resolve is crumbling.
and crumble it does.
"just the tip," he repeats, his voice a husky murmur, his gaze dropping and then flicking back to yours, heavy with unspoken need. he's hovering over you now, the slick head of his cock aligned perfectly with your glistening pussy.
"yeah, yeah," you mumble, impatient, your hands reaching up to hook around his neck, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
"cherry, i mean it," he says, his eyes locked on yours, a warning and a plea all in one.
"uh-huh. can you just… can you put it in now?"
satoru sighs, the sound laced with a mock reluctance that does little to hide the tremor in his hands as he grips your thighs. it's just the tip, a gentle press against your slick folds, and a gasp escapes your lips, a feeling of fullness hitting instantly.
he finds himself mentally reciting the names of this year's football teams, a desperate attempt to cling to some semblance of control, to not climax this early. and he's supposed to be the experienced one.
"'toru," you whine, your inner muscles clenching around him, a delicious squeeze that sends a jolt of pure pleasure through him. his hand comes up to gently caress your cheek, his thumb stroking the soft skin, and you lean into his touch.
"shit, cherry," he grunts, his control fraying at the edges. "please don't squeeze like that. i c— can barely…"
"you— you should just put all of it in," you whisper, your fingers tangling in his impossibly white hair, tugging gently.
"no," he mumbles, the denial a weak protest. keeping you away from this sweet release, even though you could probably come from this alone. "you feel so good. so… so tight."
"all the more reason—"
"no." this isn't how it's supposed to happen. your first time deserves more than a stolen moment in the middle of a forgotten study session. there should be flowers, maybe candles… it should be perfect.
he's already made up his mind, the decision firm despite the insistent throb of his cock. satoru’s thumb brushes lightly across your swollen clit, and a small whimper escapes your lips.
"satoru, i really need you." and then you look up at him, your eyes glossed with unshed tears, desperate and raw.
fuck it.
as long as it's here, with you, it'll be perfect. besides, he vaguely remembers seeing some dusty candles in the back of the storage closet.
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satorena · 1 month ago
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HOTLINE BL☆NG!
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summ. wine nights and free will? a recipe for disaster— such as matching your ex on a corny dating app and having him in your bed within that same hour. . .
cw. eventual smut. 18+. fem!reader. alcohol/substance consumption. ex boyfriend!gojo. mild toxicity. breakup & makeup. girlhood ft jjk girlies. unreliable narrator sorta. sukuna slander. mild impact play. mild asphyxiation. oral (f). fíngering. backshōts. reader is a little questionable. self sabotaging my beloved. lowkey angsty. @/3aem on tumblr for art creds. most of these stories are real shit i’ve heard/experienced LOL. can you tell i’ve never used tinder a day in my life? 16.4k words. . oops.
rena’s note. @yung-notorious and her filthy mind. . .
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“you like it when i fuck you like this? yeah you do.”
god, you do.
you can’t bring yourself to remember why you’d ever let go of dick this good. the kind that had you taking the rubber off and considering finishing inside. the kind that had you babbling apologies for having done absolutely nothing wrong. the kind that made you begin to believe his careless whispers, empty promises to work things out.
his fingers dig in the column of your throat, the weight of his hand wrapped tightly at your neck. he’s everywhere at once, but simultaneously no where to be found. while you can feel his tip prodding at your most sensitive spot, you don’t feel the overwhelming force of love he once bore with open arms for you.
“nahhh. . . don’t start running now.” you didn’t realize you were. the sheets are crumpled in your tight hold, while your other hand lightly pushes at his lower abdomen. naturally, he pins your wrist at your spine to maintain his ruthless pace, and with another gentle yet cruelly empty promise, “not when i’ve just gotten you back.”
how the fuck did you get yourself in this mess?
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friday nights were meant to decompose after a long week. a cute tradition you followed— sipping on moscato wine and munching on takeout with your homegirls while the lamest horror movie played as background noise. the skincare bit happened every third friday of the month, which fell on this particular night, thin layers of korean products lathering at your skins while fluffy headbands sat atop your hairlines, keeping stray hairs away.
it was an easy way of recapping all of your week’s worth of bullshit and listing each girl’s new lineup of men of the season.
girlhood.
“i’m cool off men for a whileee,” you sigh, placing your third wine glass on the coffee table. you tuck your legs back onto the couch, propping your head into your palm. you watch as shoko, who’s seated on the floor, grabs your glass and fills it with another unsolicited round. you narrow your eyes at her, “after the shit kuna pulled— girl, slow down!”
“don’t watch me,” shoko chews at her unlit blunt tucked in her teeth, lifting an arm above her head to pass you your refill. despite the slight spin of the room, you accept the cup against better judgment, “keep talking. what the fuck did he do now?”
“you mean what didn’t he do,” seated in the pink bean bag rested on the floor, utahime quips. in between her teeth sits a wooden stick, drizzled in the honey-like wax residue she smeared over her shin. “i woulda left his ass the second i found out he— FUCK— lived with his mama at his big age.”
as utahime soothes her smoothened skin, yuki leans over the coffee table to grab at the blunt passed over to her. “y/n baby, you know i love you,” she starts off, taking a deep inhale before ghosting the smoke. you can tell she’s about the cook the shit out of you, “but come on— he lives in his parents’ basement. was that not a red flag in itself? is that seriously the kind of man you see yourself marrying.”
“nevermind the fact he’s pushing thirty and still unemployed,” shoko throws in her two cents, takeout back in her lap as she breaks open a new set of chopsticks, “he’s one more ‘tap in’ away from getting caught by the feds.”
“how much y’all wanna bet he’s at the club right now as we speak?” it’s a rhetorical question, but utahime pauses her waxing to check. with sticky fingers, she taps away at her phone, and with a knowing smile she yelps, tilting her screen towards you three, “aha!— and there goes the infamous money spread.”
“cornballllll.” shoko cringes.
you’re filled with dread and shame at the sight presented. god— every single chance you gave this man, he spun around and somehow does worse. it’s not like the two of you were together— never officially, but the sole fact that you’ve let this man treat you as if you were his girl haunts you. you’ve let countless of bullshit slide all because his stroke game came second within all the men you’ve dealt with.
the only thing you’ll give him besides a being a good lay is that you’ve never had issues concerning other women. he’s a very transparent guy— you’ve yet to receive a “hey girlie. . .” text from anybody. though, it isn’t like either of you have ever dropped any hard launches. it was mostly content that only close friends could catch onto— the interior design of his car, your latest set of nails, subtle shots of his tattoos, your purses and jewelry. nothing evident but pretty obvious to those who know.
if sukuna was still cool with him, however. . . yeah, he’d definitely know, considering the fact he purchased most of the purses you own. that’s excluding the fact your favorite necklace, the one with your name engraved, the one you always wear, was also bought by him.
“move,” you push utahime’s hand away from your peripheral, slumping further into the couch. embarrassment floods you yet again, and you drown it away with more wine. much to your chagrin, they spare no mercy as they giggle at your pout, “not too much on me— shoko, you’re literally the one who put me on!”
“don’t do that,” she rolls her eyes, picking at the orange chicken on her platter. you have half a mind at chucking your drink at her. “all i told you was to fuck him. nobody said anything about keeping him around.”
“instructions: unclear,” utahime giggles, smearing another coat of wax mixture onto her calves. “she’s now a year deep into a situationship with a man who files for disability checks to blow on parlays.”
you spring up in your seat, your wine nearly spilling on shoko in your excitement, “shit, i never told you guys!”
“told us what?” yuki kills the blunt in the ash tray, and stretches an arm to grab at her food. she knocks over a few emptied bottles as they roll on the carpet, and winces when one of them knock at shoko’s knee, “my fault girl.”
shoko clicks her tongue, but you loop your arms around her neck as you proceed, “before you bitches attacked me for literally just being a girl,” you decide ignore the way they all groan, “i was trying to tell you all why i finally ended shit with him.”
“well don’t hold back now!” utahime eggs on.
“guess what i found out,” you set the empty wine glass back onto the table. you’re most likely gonna need your hands in this specific conversation, “he bet thirty thousand dollars on the super bowl game— and lost.”
the room falls quiet. utahime pauses in her ripping, yuki drops her noodles from her chopsticks and shoko nearly chokes on her wine. amidst it all, three pairs of eyes slowly crawl to meet your gaze, in complete disbelief at what you’d told them.
“are you deadass?” shoko speaks first, her facial expression almost incredulous. her eyes are teary from her food slipping through the wrong tube. “you’re playing, right? right?”
“she has to be. . . this is a new level of low even for him.” yuki shakes her head, most likely in attempts to give him the benefit of the doubt. you don’t blame her— no sane person would drop thirty grand on a fucking betting app of all things— and on top of that, lose.
“i wish i was?!” you groan, still upset, “the worst part is that he told me that money was supposed to be deposit money for a condo he’d been,” you raise your fingers in air quotes, “looking into.”
“you know what though? this doesn’t actually surprise me,” utahime laughs, as if she hadn’t been in a daze for a solid minute. she rips at the strip, and winces, “didn’t i just say he was getting checks to place on parlays? frank gallagher looking ass.”
“but thirty thousand?” yuki emphasizes, blinking rapidly in her disbelief, “what the fuck would possess somebody to bet thirty grand on anything?”
“grown ass man, by the way.” shoko mumbles mindlessly, before chowing down some more food. you can’t find it in yourself to disagree.
utahime nods, blowing a puff of air, “on god, bro. don’t he got mortgages to pay off or some shit?”
yuki shoots her a deadpanned look, “girl, with what house.”
and that had been your final straw with him. not the fact he lived in his mother’s basement despite clearly having money to rent out a place, or the fact he was still flexing bands he allegedly has on the gram— but blowing all your money on a fucking football game. and losing. you do respect yourself, as much as these girls believe you don’t. a man with no ambitions and no money? you need to run and far.
“i’ll miss his dick though.” you pout, the alcohol already coursing through your body. being wine drunk always made you horny, that was a known fact, and letting go of one of your greatest eaters was not on your bingo card. naturally, the girls roll their eyes at your antics, “boo me all you want— he horsed me the fuck around in bed.”
“you used to say the same shit about gojo,” utahime points out, rising to her feet as she grabs the used strips in her hold, before circling around the couch, “and look how that ended up.”
technically. . . she wasn’t exactly wrong but that still stung a bit. “hime, seriously?” shoko rolls her eyes, and you feel her hand rubbing at your foot soothingly. her motions are a little stiff but you appreciate the sentiment, “we get you don’t fuck with him but he was still her man. and basically my friend, kinda.”
you hear her wince in the kitchen, followed by footsteps, “right. . . sorry girlie.” she runs back to you after throwing the waste away, and kisses at your temple. she doesn’t comment on the pout on your lips. “i didn’t mean it. . . okay maybe i did, but i’m still sorry!”
your history with gojo was complicated. you’d met him through shoko in your third year of college, at a kickback party hosted by his people. it’d been an invite only thing, but shoko had brought you along as a plus one, and you both instantly connected. as far as you were concerned, it was technically supposed to be a sneaky link vibe, but you soon learned gojo was anything but sneaky. in fact, he was so vocal in him wanting you, that he actually did end up getting you a couple months later.
he’s a year older than you, therefore he’d graduated a year ahead. the separation in itself was something you hadn’t looked forward to at all, but he had found himself a condo downtown, not too far from your residency, therefore seeing each other hadn’t been an issue. he always made it clear he wanted to see you— even after gruelling nine to five shifts in the office. his words matched his actions, driving you up to his place since yours had a stupid curfew policy for visitors.
(you’ve kept him in your dorm numerous times.) (your closet has suffered enough with his lanky ass.)
the first year worked out for the better. he was still welcomed to the parties you invited him to, he made time in his schedule help you with your studies, planned consist dates and even took you out on trips. he was physically, mentally and emotionally present— and you genuinely believed he would be your forever man when you’d introduced him to your parents at your graduation ceremony and he seemed thrilled. they adored him— and that says a lot considering they hated all your other exes. with good reason, but still.
it’d been the honeymoon phase until it wasn’t.
you expected arguments. those are inevitable in relationships, but with every argument he grew distant. you were now both graduated students juggling between jobs, rent and a relationship. it was a lot— your schedules never seemed to align which jumbled into multiple failed dates, which further escalated into more arguments. it hadn’t always been him, you could agree you were at fault too. that post graduation depression spiralled worst than you’d anticipated— the fear of falling behind when your boyfriend had already been successful so early into his career entirely consuming.
he reassured you plenty, but you could see it in his face as he spoke to you— he was exhausted. of work. of life. of you. he had bigger fish to fry than dealing with a workaholic girlfriend with low self esteem. the bigger the promotion, the less your value. you’d seen this play out before— it was less i love you’s and more hours in the office. less dinner dates and more project plannings.
the more time you spent by yourself, the more your mind began overthinking. you had no place in his life anymore. you didn’t resent him for it— you wish nothing but the best for him. he deserves to be successful in life, and he’s already so close to it. your slacking behind is nothing more than dead weight in his rise to the top.
the breakup had been anticipated. you’d broken up with him first. he never asked you to explain why. he nodded, never uttering a word. it’d been the first time you’d seen him in weeks. you kept it simple, “we should break up.” and he kept it even simpler, a curt bounce of the head in agreement. as quick as he’d entered your apartment, he left.
and that’d honestly been it. you’d been together for four years, and broken up for a year and a half. after all this time, you still don’t resent him for it. he made the rational choice in prioritizing himself and his future, and you simply didn’t fit in it. it took you quite some time to work on yourself as well, and you’re honestly satisfied with where you are in life. the breakup clearly worked in favour for you both.
it sucks that he was genuinely the only man you ever cared about. the only man you can confidently say you loved.
“look— now you got her thinking about him!” shoko complains, chucking the nearest thing— a throw pillow, at utahime. it hits her square in the face, to which she lets out a muffled oof! “way to fucking go.”
you blink out of your thoughts. well that’s embarrassing, you got caught up in the past again. you lift yourself from the slumping position you’d unintentionally fallen into the midst of daydreaming, “shit, my bad. got flashbacks to that time he ate me off the bone after his first promotion.”
“yo, what?!” yuki hollers, falling into a fit of laughter. shoko rolls her eyes so much you’re thinking it’ll get stuck at the back of her skull and utahime physically cringed from head to toe. “so fucking unserious— here we are, worried about your ass and here you go, upset you lost your best eater.”
not exactly, though there was some truth to her words. gojo was your best eater, and nobody’s topped him since. he really did tongue fuck you that night like you were the boss who raised his pay. but it wasn’t just the sex you missed— you wholeheartedly missed him. the closest thing to a soul bond you’ve experienced, now gone.
they don’t need to know all that though.
“oh come on,” utahime groans, picking at her nails. trust her to find any reason to slander your ex. for what reason? she’s never told you other than him annoying the fuck out of her, “he could not have been that great. it can’t be anything you can’t find elsewhere— plenty of men eat pussy.”
“okay but do they enjoy eating it or is it more of a duty thing?” yuki points out, rolling her thumb on her lighter mindlessly. she watches the flame arise, casting a soft glow on the sheet stuck to her face, “because you can definitely tell the difference. one eats for foreplay, the other eats for his own pleasure.”
shoko hums in agreement, still poking at her plate, “a man versus a munch,” and with a beat of silence, she takes a deep sigh, throwing her head back, “i should call him.”
“no! no you should not,” utahime laughs, before shooting you a glance. your smile quickly falters and is switched with a look of confusion as she points a nail filer in your direction, “and you,” you cock a brow, “stop thinking about him. we’re supposed to be independent women, y’all need to stand the fuck up.”
“hime, please, you were literally just complaining to your close friends about your latest dry spell.”
“irrelevant!” she dismisses yuki, waving a hand absentmindedly. you don’t see how it’s irrelevant exactly, but you let her proceed. “we are sexy, successful and strong women. stop relying on the past and focus on the future. there are bitches that fought for their lives for the freedom we have! you could literally get dick anywhere— they actually have apps for it, if you didn’t know—”
“so tell us, o’mighty one,” shoko cuts her off, “are you suggesting we download tinder to relieve our stress?”
she remains quiet, and you can see the gears churning in her head. you’re about ninety nine percent positive shoko was fucking around, but the scrunch in your friend’s eyebrows tells you she’s seriously contemplating the idea, “. . yes actually.” she finally decides.
“hime. . .” shoko groans, but is effectively cut off when she springs up to her knees to grab at her phone.
“no, seriously, think about it!” she scrolls through her phone like a maniac, searching through the app store and typing the name in. you all watch her incredulously, her enthusiasm in the matter as if she hadn’t been preaching about feminism half a minute ago, “i’ve met some of my best lays in college through tinder. i haven’t been on this app in years though.”
you don’t see why not. you were pretty tipsy and would never have agreed to this under typical conditions, however it could be regarded as a bonding activity. you also haven’t been on tinder since before your last relationship, and the shit sukuna put you through this past year was enough to make you want to deal with literally anything else.
“i’m down.” you pull out your phone, and shoko may have gotten whiplash with how quick she snaps her head back to eye you. you shrug your shoulders, “we don’t have to take this shit seriously— god knows i’m not entertaining anybody on this app for real.”
“exactly!” utahime nods, walking up to scoot herself beside you. she nudges at shoko with her foot, who flicks at her toes to keep her away, “it’s just for shits and giggles.”
“i’m definitely not doing this shit,” yuki crawls to sit at the couch’s feet, right at shoko’s side, and grabs at the remote sitting uselessly on the table, “but i will be watching you both embarrass yourselves.”
“the only other bitch with common sense here.” shoko sprawls her legs onto yuki’s lap. she receives a slap at the back of her head by utahime, and naturally she slaps the hand right back. “can’t stand that little fucker sometimes.”
“aweee, love you too!” she blows a kiss at her to which she receives a middle finger. you snort, eyes glued on your screen as you redownload that forsaken app back into your phone.
you’d probably regret it in the morning, but that was something saturday you would have to deal with. as of right now, with white wine in your system, logic was not an option. you were learning to live more in the moment, and apparently that starts with the corniest dating app in the world.
it’s not like you’d magically stumble upon your ex on the platform. now wouldn’t that be something? ha!
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there’s no fucking way.
this had to be one big, fat cosmic joke. a cruel prank, even. and if it was, then the universe had a twisted sense of humour. you still don’t believe it— were the girls in on this? this kind of shit didn’t just happen to anybody.
it took about a total of twenty minutes between logging back into your old account, updating your password and bio, and swiping left on passing profiles until you landed on it. on. . . him.
you blink slowly. your phone is shaky beneath your unstable hands, and you’re pretty sure you’ve been holding your breath in far longer than recommended for the average human. it’s quiet as fuck in the room— despite the three girls huddled over your shoulders, sticking their noses in all directions to get a clearer view of your illuminating screen— almost as if to confirm if what they were seeing was truly was they were seeing, as if this was all too fucking ironic to be true.
there’s a knot of anxiousness that simmers in the pits of your stomach. you’re pretentiously aware that even the slightest movement— one wrong click or swipe, would ultimately change everything. there was too much at risk here. “oh there’s no fucking way. . .” shoko speaks up first.
utahime leans in impossibly closer, a few centimetres away from fully emerging with your iphone as her nose scrunches, “way too sexy? fuck around and find out? god, he’s still so corny, i swear.”
your eyes trail over his biography, curiously. that “way2sexy” had been an inside joke you both shared years ago— back when drake had dropped one of gojo’s favourite albums, certified loverboy. he overplayed the shit out of that song when it came out, so much that you received multiple complaints from your RA for “public disturbance”, but he swore it worked as daily affirmations for him in the same sense crystals and tarot cards worked for spiritual girlies. you called him corny for it, but before you knew it, it’d shown up in your spotify wrapped the following year.
rapid memories of morning rays of light peeking through blinds, a groggy yet mysteriously clear “alexa, play way 2 sexy” as you fixed your sheets and lit your candles, fighting over who gets to spit toothpaste residue first, hearty laughter to fumbled lyrics, shared minty kisses paired with one “gimme one more” too many.
the ache clenching at your heart is hard to ignore.
“i would give him the benefit of the doubt in believing he hasn’t updated his account,” yuki draws out, eyes narrowing as a finger sticks out to point, “but his age matches. emoticons as a grown man. . . no shade though.”
his age did match. inside joke aside, none of it was adding up. if he already had his account set up years ago, had he willingly changed his bio to one of your most infamous gags after the breakup? if you were to swipe right right now, would it instantly match? you don’t think you want to figure it out— both possible outcomes scaring you shitless.
“should i swipe left?” you speak uncharacteristically softly, torn between the idea of tucking your tail inwards and running away from the opportunity or your typical it is what it is mentality.
“yes! obviously— mmmph?!”
“do you want to?” shoko, with a pillow stuffing an agitated utahime in the face, counters. between all the girls, she seemed to understand you the most, granted her own relationship with the man. you’re sure he had given her his own version of their breakup, how you’d opened the doors to endless opportunities for him, had given him the easy way out. you never bothered asking her, afraid of the illusion you’d created to shield yourself shattering, “only you have the answer to that.”
“i honestly don’t know,” you sigh, joints in your thumb aching from hovering over your screen for too long. swiping left meant completely abandoning any the possibility of the two of you as one. you don’t want that responsibility weighted on your shoulders again, “what if he’s moved on? the shit that’ll do to my ego if i swipe right and he passes on me?”
shoko finally grants her friend the permission of speech, freeing her off the couch decoration, though the look she gives her serves as a warning to tread lightly. with a heavy breath, utahime releases a puff, “i’d crashout, just sayin’.”
“but what if he hasn’t moved on?” yuki poses, and apparently that was all the confirmation you needed to swipe. fuck pride— pride wasn’t going to get your back blown out. pride wasn’t going to help you get the love of your life back. pride can go fuck itself.
“wait—”
utahime is cut off again, however, not by shoko but tinder itself. the notification pings loudly, resonating in depths of your ear cavity and shoots straight to your chest. you can feel your heart pounding wildly against your rib cage. it’s so silent you can hear a pin drop, and the way your gut churns gives away the end result to your spontaneity.
it’s a match.
“well. . . shit.” shoko slumps back into the couch nonchalantly, and you don’t need to see her to know she’s sporting a smirk. you do feel her knee knock into yours. fake ass idgafer.
you’re no better, biting down your bottom in order to suppress the smile itching to spread. a year later and the sole idea that he’d already came across the same mindset as you, willing to give whatever it was that needed a second shot, had you beyond delusional. god, you need help.
“look at youuu, cheesin’ and shit!” yuki pokes at your cheek and you swat her hand away, ultimately caving into the smile. fuck yeah you were geeked— it’s hard carrying a nonchalant attitude when you were an honest to god, soft hearted lovergirl. if you played your cards right, with a few lash bats and glossy lips, you’d be getting dicked down in no time.
“i’m gonna be sick.” utahime deadpans.
“and i’m getting dickkk,” you sing, jumping to your feet as you stood on the couch. you turn around, hands clutching onto the headrest, giving your ass a cute shake as it rotates in circular motions. you feel shoko’s hand tapping it encouragingly, her phone illuminating as it records while she rests her head on your moving thighs. you hear yuki cackle, pulling out her phone to film as well. you giggle, “rip that pussy!”
“ayeeee!” they complete the lyrics, and the vibes are restored yet again, girly giggles filling the room. when your legs begin to feel wobbly, you stop your twerking to plop yourself right back down, leaning your head onto shoko’s shoulder.
you hear her click her tongue as the recording of your ass graces her screen, and she groans, “gojo is one lucky bastard— he can’t handle all that.”
he most definitely can, and has. you’ll opt with shrugging in the meantime.
“with that being said,” utahime jumps in, crossing her legs, “what’s the next move here? you reaching out first?”
your lips straighten as your mind reflects. if you still know him as well as you think you do, he’s definitely going to text you first as soon as he sees the green light. sure, you were anxious for a reply, desperate to check what his temperature was— but you’d already sacrificed a grand amount of dignity just swiping right. he could do take on the role of texting first.
“nah, i’m almost a hundred percent sure he’ll—”
ping!
you all whip your heads to the source of the sound. your phone. the screen shines as it undergoes facial recognition, and exposes the messenger. from tinder. gojo. sending you a message. just as you’d expected.
you can’t help the cocky smile, eyes trailing at their perplexed faces, “—text me first.”
naturally, the girls are impressed. even you are— that timing? would it be insane to genuinely be considering gojo might honest to god be your soulmate? yuki blows a puff of air, followed by a laugh, “your pussy has to be magical cause what the fuck?”
“ladies and gentlemen,” utahime stands to her feet, fisting her hand into an imaginary microphone, and addresses her fake crowd. in the hostiest voice she can muster, she curtsies as she continues in comedic fashion, “miss pussy fairy in thee flesh.”
“put a stamp on it.” shoko shakes her head in acknowledgment, laying her own phone in her lap as she claps. yuki places two fingers in her mouth and whistles at you, to which you rise to your own feet and dramatically place a hand over your chest in faux humility.
“oh please!” you flatter yourself, tucking your hair behind your ear. you smile behind your palm, your improv classes in high school coming in clutch, “this is too much— thank you! thank you deeply.”
“girl, byeee,” utahime breaks character first, giggling as she sits back onto the abandoned bean bag. you mimic her motions, as she pops open a stray water bottle and swallows a big gulp, “open his text! i wanna see what he said!”
you’re in the same boat, thumbing at your phone to unlock it and open the app. naturally the girls hover over you yet again, just as eager to see how he finally broke the no contact phase. it took him less than three minutes to slide in your messages, as the option had finally been granted.
right as your thumb hovers the message, a hum draws out your throat, “how much y’all wanna bet it’s something corny?” you tease, something close to a hunch giving it away. seeing as your assumptions were deemed accurate just a few minutes ago, the only way he’d think of clearing the ice would be with something plausibly lame.
“open itttt!” utahime ushers you, hands clamping at your shoulders. you roll your eyes, letting her dramatics sway your body back and forth before she lets up. you let out a sigh, and open the unanswered message.
and just as you’d predicted. . .
@gsatoru: they say shooters shoot 👀
“oh brotherrrr,” the girls groan in sync, and even you can’t stop the cringe that stiffens your face. if there’s one thing that hasn’t changed, it’s the fact he still doesn’t act his age. he needs to let those college days go.
“now, what’d i tell y’all.” you tut, leaving out the part of nostalgia simmering deep and warmly in your bones at his predictability. ever the goofy he was, gojo satoru. jeez.
“i was really found myself rooting for him too,” shoko sighs, rising to her feet. she dusts at her lap then stretches her limbs lazily, “i’m gonna go pee— hime, i swear to god, don’t take my seat.” she doesn’t look back to flip her off when she hears utahime blow raspberries her way. to which, against shoko’s wishes, leaps over to snatch her seat.
both you and yuki give her a deadpanned look, but yuki voices out your thoughts, “she’s gonna get on your ass and i’m not helping you out.”
“girl, boo.” utahime rolls her eyes, “more importantly, what the fuck do you answer to that?” her nail taps at your phone screen, peering at you expectantly through lashes.
you consider your options. do you reciprocate the same energy or do you call him out on his corniness? matching his vibe would be like starting off a blank slate— a new start, new conversations, something almost superficial. like a fling you meet at the bars for one night of fuckery that you regret the next morning. but calling him out would induce in falling into familiar patterns— calling him a cornball while he attempts to sweet talk you, old conversations brought up, risking broken boundaries for the sake of reminiscing.
decisions, decisions, decisions.
“i’m thinking taking the easy way out.” you nod your head, readying your fingers as you type your response out.
you miss the exchanged glances between utahime and yuki, too busy trying to format how to come off playful but not forgetful. flirty but not desperate. come pull up on me but demurely. well you’ll be damned— in what world had you ever expected second guessing yourself for gojo?
“what’s the easy way out?” yuki asks, and you hit send. where this confidence comes from is beyond you, but any error you make you can blame on the wine (you’re hardly fazed but it’s nice to have something to pin the blame on instead of yourself) (old habits die hard).
you tilt your phone, holding it out as you watch the girls’ brows furrow, eyes scanning over the screen. when their faces contort into a look of amusement mixed with horror, a girly giggle escapes your throat.
@yourstrulyname: sukuna ryomen wsp with you?? 🙈
“you didn’t!” utahime hollers, her laughter so intense she doubled over to clutch at her stomach. yuki sways her body back and forth as she finds herself in a hysterical fit as well. “goddd, i would kill to see the look on his face right now.”
“yooo, that’s evil.” the blonde swipes at a tear. “woulda had me deactivating the whole account.”
“who’s deactivating?” shoko pops back in, not without slapping utahime upside the head. she ignores the way utahime complains in favour to swipe a nearly emptied bottle to pour.
“it’s not even that bad,” you defend yourself, flashing her your screen as she installs herself in the bean bag utahime once occupied. her eyes squint as she reads the conversation, nearly bulging out their sockets when she catches your message, “nahhh, don’t give me that!”
“if he gives you the time of day after that,” shoko swirls the wine in her glass, snorting, “he must really still be in love with you.”
“he should know i’m playing. . .” you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince the girls, him or yourself. you really were just joking around— albeit a terrible joke, but one regardless! sukuna was officially removed from the roster, a financially irresponsible man never standing a chance against you, “right?”
“don’t ask us?” utahime chimes in, uselessly, to which you roll your eyes. well shit, maybe you should double text? let him know you were just fooling around, trying to check temperatures and establish the mood. your phone pings again, and all unnecessary thoughts are thrown out the window.
@gsatoru: oh so you got jokes now?
as you’re about to let him know you’ve been had jokes, but never the goofy type, you see the bubbles pop up, a telltale that he’s got more to tell you. you let him have it, already having possibly fumbled the mission before even starting. it feels like an eternity and a half waiting on his text, the girls having huddled over you yet again, just as curious to see what he had to counter with.
@gsatoru: can’t be a joke if the guy had you outside on valentine’s day tho. stk steakhouse? really girl?
your jaw falls slack. you watch with burning eyes at your screen as your built up suspicions were ultimately confirmed. okay, so those two were still somehow connected. you didn’t like to question male friendships, the lack of loyalty not one you’d ever understand. god forbid you ever started fucking with utahime’s ex of many years.
“wait. .” said girl speaks up, drawing the word out as she processes his answer. her tongue rolls around in her mouth, face cringing as the next words follow, “i can’t lie, he kinda ate you up.”
“just sassy as fuck,” shoko laughs, and it’s one of those giggles reserved to shit she honestly finds hilarious, “really girl is crazy. all comfortably like he’s one of your homegirls.”
“now what’s wrong with stk’s?” yuki grumbles, picking at her nails with a childish pout on her lips, “everybody isn’t born with a silver spoon plugged up our asses. god, i can’t stand rich people.”
you don’t bother answering the girls, already aware he chewed with his response, that he’s as sassy as he was years ago and that he had found that particular steakhouse shabby despite it being a fucking steakhouse. these were things you already knew. your thumbs proceed before your mind can register,
@yourstrulyname: been keeping tabs on me?
“you don’t look too happy,” shoko pokes at your cheek. there’s an ache creasing in your forehead, and you relax the furrow of your brows. you’re not exactly upset, just a bit on edge with his approach— you can’t tell whether he’s on tens or not. whether he’s genuinely joking around or not.
“i’m fine.” you poke back, and she nods. she ushers the other girls to pick a new movie to play, and you clock this is her way of allowing you some privacy between exes. you shoot her a grateful look, and she offers a sly wink. you’ll make sure to update her on whatever happens as soon as it’s over.
you switch your ringer off, and open his new message.
@gsatoru: hard not to when he posts you like he has smth to prove
@yourstrulyname: who said it was me?
you knew it was you. you knew he knew it was you. but still, you wanted to hear it from him yourself, wanted to know if he really was keeping tabs on you ever since the breakup. it’d help ease your mind with unanswered questions.
@gsatoru: you mean besides the bags and jewelry i got you?
@gsatoru: your build was a dead giveaway. could recognize you blindfolded in a room full of women
you bit your lip. you could work with this text, play around with it and see if shit flips. would he fall for the bait? you’ll start off slow, create an opening and see if he decides to indulge.
@yourstrulyname: like what you saw?
he answers instantly and your heart sinks a bit.
@gsatoru: of course
@gsatoru: you’re as a beautiful as the day you left me
is that how he saw it? you assume you did leave him in a practical sense, but there was no way he hadn’t seen it coming miles away. you had both been caught up in your lives, the additional stress of romance an unwanted factor in the rise of your careers. so yeah, you’d given him the opportunity to leave. it’s not as if he fought it anyway, so did you really leave him if he’d closed the door on his merry way out?
this was starting to get personal. toeing between the line of uncharted territory and familiarity. everything you didn’t want— debriefing the logic behind the underwhelming breakup on tinder of all places was out of the fucking question.
@yourstrulyname: you still cool with sukuna?
@gsatoru: something like that
@gsatoru: he’s slimey as fuck for sliding on you tho
you figured as much. you couldn’t imagine a world where gojo wouldn’t feel some type of way at his friend going after his ex girlfriend a couple months fresh off a breakup. he probably felt the same way towards you, the difference being one owes him more loyalty than the other.
@yourstrulyname: and what does that make me?
@gsatoru: did he mean something to you?
he didn’t. you think of the importance of somebody meaning something to you— the fear of losing that person larger than life itself. the joy of waking up in that person’s arms on a rainy morning. the vulnerability in bonding souls with that person. the relief your body undergoes as it melts in that person’s embrace.
he didn’t mean shit to you.
@yourstrulyname: no
@gsatoru: then that makes you someone who made a choice
neutral and impassive. you wondered if he truly meant that. in a sense, you assume he really did mature.
@yourstrulyname: so he’s in the wrong but i’m not?
@gsatoru: who am i to assign right from wrong? you’re both adults at the end of the day
you don’t know what to answer to that. there was a lot of truth to his words— you were both consenting adults with choices made. jeez, just what had gojo gone through all these months that made him none the wiser? you’re considering leaving him on opened for a while, at least until you come up with an answer to that philosophical ass message, when he double texts you.
@gsatoru: this is so backwards lmaoo. what’s good with you? how’ve you been?
so he realized it too. thank fuck— skipping small talk and diving into the nitty gritty this late at night was not how you expected your night to go. the girls had completely forgotten your predicament, invested in the latest reality tv show flashing on your flat screen.
@yourstrulyname: been good. you?
@gsatoru: wow you’re as dry as ever
@gsatoru: life’s been blessed, could be better tho. too much to explain over text
oh? was this what you were thinking it was?
@yourstrulyname: what are you getting at, gojo?
@gsatoru: gojo? so it’s fuck me then
@gsatoru: not getting at anything. ball’s in your court, yn
so it was. you contemplate it for a second— should you invite him over tonight? the girls won’t be upset about kicking them out, and if anything they’d encourage you to call them as soon as it’s over. you suppose your doubts lie within the idea of having your ex boyfriend back into your territory. in the comfort of your home, a home he’d once already graced.
as scary as it sounded, you also desperately craved seeing him. it’d been a solid eighteen months since you’ve broken up, and thirteen since you’ve last seen him entirely. ironically, around the time you started getting involved with sukuna. you weren’t sure if it was your heart or pussy talking, but laying up in bed with this man was not something you were against.
fuck it.
@yourstrulyname: you know where i stay at
and his response comes instantly.
@gsatoru: be there in half an hour.
oh fuck.
“yo. . .” you speak up, for the first time in a few minutes. the girls turn their heads, acknowledging you, as you shut your phone close and chuck it across the sofa. “i love y’all but y’all gotta go, like now.”
shoko shakes her head, but there’s a smirk on her lips. utahime, as lost as ever, gives you a frown. yuki has most likely caught on, rising to her feet, dusting her lap, “say no more.”
the girls do you an immense favour as they excuse themselves. they pick at empty bottles and containers, throw dirty dishes in the dishwasher, rearrange the throw pillows and even light up your candles. you feel bad for kicking them out so late, so you pitch in some money for gas as well as the inconvenience.
as they cleaned out your living room and kitchen, you’d rushed to your shower for a mini cleanse. pulling out your bests, you wash over intimate parts thoroughly, lathering your limbs in scented soap, before rinsing, brushing your teeth and stepping out. you stare at your reflection through the haze of steam, the foggy mirror reminding you of the missing messages he used to leave on mornings you had to get to work.
no point in dwelling on the past when he was on his way over this moment. you swap your silk robe for the skimpiest loungewear you own— matching camisole and shorts, and let your hair cascade back down. you’re about your fifth spritz of body spray when the doorbell rings, and your stomach flutters.
you halt in your step when you notice how fast you’re going. yikes! the last thing he needs is his ego inflating, knowing you were rushing to get him inside, nevermind the fact you washed, pulled out your sexiest pyjamas and even wore a brand new pair of panties. you know. . . just for preparations. better safe than sorry.
after the third mindless lap around your kitchen, you make your way towards the door. you inhale sharply, clenching at your shaky fingers, easing your nerves. you quickly snap out of your daze, pulling the door open.
his eyes, momentarily distracted by the number engraved in the wall next to your door, glaze over your figure curiously. his hands are tucked in the pocket of his sweatpants. he lets out a breath, a sound borderlining a chuckle as it shoots straight to both heartbeats, shoulders drop from its hunch,
“hey.”
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he’s thick.
no perverted shit. you’ve noticed he’s put on weight in the right places— not to say he’d been anything less than nicely built in the past, but his biceps are significantly fuller and the material of his compression tee stretched over bulging muscles in a telltale pattern.
somebody’s been at the gym one too many.
“you good with this?” he mumbles, hand running across the smooth skin of your calf. with every stroke of his palm are fleeting memories of the past, burning deep into your limb. you hate the way your stomach sinks st the thought, “me being here and shit.”
“wouldn’t have let you in if i wasn’t.” you answer honestly, back pressed into the arm of the couch. you don’t understand how fast he’d gotten comfortable with being in your personal space just like that— you don’t understand how you’d allowed him in your personal space just like that.
he nods, and the air is eerily quiet. you watch with furrowed brows as he traces shapes into your skin with his fingertip, a frenzy of emotions resembling those of turbulence all in cerulean eyes. he’s torn— you can see it in the way his nose scrunches, as if he’s debating on whether he should voice out his thoughts or not. whether it’s worth debriefing— if this is his last shot or not.
with all this time passed, he’s still so easy to read.
“what is it?” you sigh, albeit irritated. the last thing you’d planned when you got rid of your friends in favour of having your ex over was this weird ass tension roaming. crazy sentence to speak— you know, but you were really hoping it’d be less talking involved and more sexing. it wasn’t that you were against conversing with him, but the way he was choosing to go about it was just so. . . awkward .
he senses the irritation laced in your question and immediately chuckles. his laugh sounds breathless, almost dry, but he shakes his head. his free hand swipes at his nose, a tic of his you noticed years ago whenever he’s feeling bashful or caught, and clears his throat.
“how’d you and sukuna happen?” he rips off the bandaid, and asks you the last question you wanted to hear. the tracing on your leg slows down, and your arms tighten a bit around your torso.
you let out a puff of air. if gojo notices your discomfort, he doesn’t mention it. in fact, he doesn’t pull the question back at all— he stares at you intensely, as if baring into your soul, as if the answer to his question will determine whether the boulder weighted on his shoulders will free him of restraint or not.
as if he still stood a chance or not.
“not much to say,” you shrug, as dismissive as possible. he doesn’t budge, the same intensity in his gaze and you roll your eyes, “honest to god. we broke up, he was there at the right time and shit happened.”
the words simmer into the stillness of the night, and he swipes his tongue over his lips pensively, “were y’all ever official?” he pushes, and you click your tongue against your teeth, offering him a deadpanned look. seriously, as if he didn’t know his own friend— in what world was sukuna anything worthy of official?
“god, no.” you shudder, and he nods again. “you know your friend.”
“i don’t,” gojo counters, momentarily wrapping his hand around your ankle. it fits as perfectly as it did all those years ago, where thumbs at your anklet— another prized possession he’d gotten you. your face heats in embarrassment, and he flicks his eyes to glance at you, a fleeting smirk on his lips, before staring back at the jewelry, “going after my ex girlfriend is not something i expected. i don’t know him at all.”
fair enough, you think to yourself. there has to be some lingering resentment towards you for the same reason. had the tables been turned and he’d gone after one of your closest friends, you would’ve cut him off from your life completely. you were being truthful— it wasn’t anything remotely serious with sukuna, not even close to how it’d been with gojo, but you could see it as a matter of principle. you’d already taken the initiative to break up with him first, and going after his homeboy?
god, you had questionable morals.
“it’s different with you,” he feeds in, as if he could read your thoughts. it was probably written all over your face, the scrunch in your brows never letting up. his index finger slides beneath the band of your anklet, the contrast of the silver shade lining perfectly against his complexion, “‘s hard to explain, but you broke up with me so you technically owe me no loyalty— besides, i get why you ended things. never blamed you.”
now that peaks your interest. he gets why you ended things with him? he never blamed you? you clear your throat, forcing the question out, “you do?”
“of course,” he shrugs naturally, as if it hadn’t taken you eons to conclude. as if it hadn’t broke you apart when you’d realized how unneeded you were, “i honestly expected it. you deserved better than what i was giving. you must’ve been lonely— work had always taken a big part of my time, and that left you behind in the dust.”
you’re waiting for the punchline. he continues, “i can’t lie to you— i was wishing you’d resort to cheating over breaking up. that way you’d still be mine, even if it was temporarily,” he chuckles, a soft shade of pink dusting over his cheekbones, as he sniffs, “corny, i know. but you didn’t deserve putting up with my bullshit, so you left. time is of the essence, and that was the one thing i never seemed to give you. you fell out of it— out of love, so. . . i’m sorry.”
words cannot seem to leave you. you’re left utterly speechless— that had been so far from the reason, the realization sitting bitterly at the pit of your stomach. anything, literally anything, would’ve been better than hearing him lie to you again.
“that. . .” you inhale a sharp breath, steadying yourself, “is nowhere near the reason why we broke up.”
he stops in his caress. you think he got whiplash from how fast his neck snaps, eyeing you incredulously. he genuinely seems so confused, and you hate it. to think he’d show up with some lame ass excuse, so far stretched from the truth of the matter, and expected you to believe that. to believe him.
he blinks slowly, “i don’t understand.”
you try to pull your leg away from his lap, feeling like he was stripping you bare of the last bit of dignity you had left, wanting to rip you open. he presses the weight of his hand lightly, urging you to stay near while simultaneously giving you the option to pull away. the ball was in your court yet again.
“wait— help me understand,” the pad of his thumb rolls over your ankle bone gently— far too intimately. your feet curl away, protectively, and his fingers stroke at the ball of your heel, “please. what drove you away? what was it i did?”
there’s a pang in your chest. does he really plan on keeping this up? right in your face? it was one thing wishing him well despite the obvious, but dragging it out even a year later was a bit much. inviting him over was starting to seem like a terrible idea.
“i fell out of love?” you parrot, unbelieving. “gojo— i’m not the one who fell out of anything. i gave you a way out, and you happily took it,” his face contorts into a deeper state of confusion. you huff, “i’m not blaming you for it or anything, but shit, don’t get up in here with lies to cover your ass.”
“lies?” he whispers, to himself, running his free fingers through tousled white locks. he stares at your anklet hardly, like the gift has all the answers he’s looking for. you don’t think he’s avoiding eye contact, but he seems so distraught, so out of the loop, that broadway ought to sign him to a new movie deal. what an actor.
“time is of the essence and you failed to give it?” you continue regardless, throat restricting as it burns in an emotion you’re far too familiar with. suddenly, you feel like you’re twenty five again, left to your own devices and thoughts in the emptiness of his apartment, dressed in your prettiest outfit and another failed date night. “i never gave a shit about that, i knew how much of a hardworking man you were. i took it to the chest— anything to keep you from leaving. you stopped loving me, gojo.”
his jaw falls slack, mouth gaping and you blink your lashes furiously to prevent tears from appearing. god, this was so humiliating, bearing your heart raw in front of your ex boyfriend, “y/n, i never—”
“spare me,” you scoff, mortified by the rush of emotions coursing through you. you take a deep breath in, calming yourself to avoid further explosive feelings, “this isn’t me saying i was the perfect girlfriend. i know i wasn’t— you know i wasn’t, and piling a spiralling partner on top of all the shit you were dealing with wasn’t an option. that’s fine,” it was fine. it didn’t matter, “doesn’t matter anymore. i broke up with you, you didn’t fight to stay, and we both moved on. shit happens.”
it hurt a lot. the sound of the door clicking shut, followed by the crack splitting in your chest. the run towards your bathroom, emptying your contents from both your stomach and heart. you were undeniably a mess, that period of time it took for you to recover. you would never voice it out loud, but you’d been praying he’d tell you just how wrong you were. how he needed you in his life. how you weren’t a burden to him. how he loved you enough to fight through it all.
he hadn’t.
there’s a soft hum in the silence. the sound of your clock ticking near the entrance door. the pounding of your heart against your rib cage. seconds turn into minutes of quietness, and it does no good to your mind. you’re focusing your gaze on the inanimate objects in your apartment, anything to dismiss the reality of the situation. your leg feels cold as his hand pulls away suddenly.
he rolls his tongue against his cheek. another tic of his— he’s formulating his word choice, carefully. you’d seen a ton of this before, though it usually followed a deep sigh and a you’re good baby, trust me. the more you’d see it, the more anxious you became. and christ, if that anxiety wasn’t forming right back.
it takes a while for him to speak, and every passing breath had your chest tightening. he runs his hand across his face, tiredly. when he pulls it away, there’s a melancholic smile on his face, “i think there’s a lot that needs to be addressed. jesus, i always knew you sucked at communicating but this is something else.”
you glare at him. he doesn’t mind it, continuing, “no, you weren’t the perfect girlfriend. but you were my girlfriend, and that’s all that mattered to me. you wanna talk about spiralling? nothing i’m not familiar with— you’re the only reason i didn’t let myself fall into that rabbit hole. you kept me going after graduation. i worked as hard as i did to make sure you wouldn’t have to lift a finger around me. that was the end goal— you were end goal.”
gagged is what you felt. nothing else pure shock. he doesn’t stop there. he isn’t merciful anymore.
“i know i didn’t go about it the right way,” a regretful puff of air is released, “i canceled on you often. our phone calls were shorter, our texts were vaguer and at some point i’d forgotten what you tasted like. but i never loved you any less. not once, even after we argued. not to say i’ve converted into those spiritual people, but you’re the closest thing to a soulmate i’ve experienced.”
shit, you weren’t tripping. he felt it too. fuck. the weight of his words made it impossible to steer him away. you want to intercept, to call him a liar and turn a blind ear at his confession, to shield yourself but how could you when every word he spoke broke the bricks you’d built down?
“i’m not an asshole— i could feel you slipping away. i did try my damned hardest to reel you back in, as you’d done with me. clearly that hadn’t worked how i was hoping it would,” a bitter laugh, or maybe a resentful one. towards you or himself? you wouldn’t know, “it’s because i loved you so much, i let you go. i knew i was losing you, and when you finally came to me, the right thing to do was agree. why keep you from reaching your fullest potential? you weren’t happy with me, trying to fight the inevitable was cruel.”
the inevitable. letting you go was the right choice to make because fighting the inevitable was cruel. he loved you so much he had to let you go because you deserved more than what he had to offer. you call bullshit— in what right did he have to make that choice for you? what right did you have to make that choice for him?
it’s too much at once. your eyes burn with a remorseful feeling, your heart aches in agony and your mind is clouded with thoughts. there your ex boyfriend sat, wide eyes still as blue as when he’d once been yours, presenting you his heart raw in cupped hands— and you still couldn’t find it in you to believe him fully. everything yet nothing made sense. vulnerability was a scary thing, and you weren’t ready to face it.
so, you kiss him.
his breath is taken out of his chest as you lean forward, sealing his mouth shut. you can’t take any more of his merciless words, and the only way to get your mind off it is by getting on it. he feels stiff against you, pupils dilating as you mould lips with his own. your hand travels to the back of his neck, sitting on your knees as you hold him still.
and with a faint lip smack, he pulls away ever so slightly, hands hovering awkwardly over your waist, his breath warm and fanning your cupid’s bow, “wait—”
“don’t wanna talk,” you interrupt, placing another chaste kiss on his lips. he tastes as good as the day you left him. and with another soft smack, your voice lowers, reduced to a whisper, “you gonna fuck me or not?”
he blinks and you stare back at him, full of conviction. a simple yes or no question— and he could gladly see himself out if his answer didn’t satisfy you. his hands finally rest on your waist, and you take it as an invitation to straddle over his hips. he eases your movements by aiding, lifting you just barely to sit on him. his hands fit just as they did all those times ago. a sour, bittersweet feeling— fingertips caressing the nakedness of your torso beneath your camisole.
your back arches as he finds your sensitive spots with quickness. he’d always been great at that, leaving trails of goosebumps past his teasing touches.
“you’re doing it again,” he mumbles against your lips, ever the hypocrite, fingers gripping at your waist like a vice. he rolls your hips over his own, reeling in the softness of your palms cupping at his face. you ignore him when he continues, still nibbling on his bottom lip the way he loves, “you can’t— mmh, avoid this forever.”
maybe not, but you sure as hell could right now. the tip of your noses bump into one another as you tilt your head, deepening the kiss. you want to rid your mind of these plaguing thoughts, ones that made you doubt everything you thought you knew. losing control was out of the question, so naturally you needed it back into your grasp.
sex was an easy way to do that.
“yes or no, gojo.” you give him one last chance, grinding your hips down on his awakening dick. you feel his bulge through his pair of sweats, the print so evident you wondered why he was trying to fight it. the sight alone had your panties dampening in your arousal, uncomfortably sticky against your loungewear.
he hums in between kisses, a false pretend of debating his options. his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your shorts and past your panties, fondling at the flesh that sat beneath. he could fake it all he wants, but fuck chivalry— he was turning to mush the more you sucked at his tongue, licking at the crevice of the roof of his mouth.
it’s when you sink your teeth into the flesh of pink lips, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to draw a moan from him, he comes to a conclusion. he nods his head, snaking his arms to wrap at your waist tighter as finally kisses you back.
“it’s always a yes.” for you. he doesn’t say it, doesn’t need to, but you hear it and dismiss it. no more lovey doveyness and time to get to the nitty gritty of shit— getting your back blown out. the very thought alone is enough to put a smile on your lips.
bingo.
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your bedroom door hardly shuts before he pins you against it. he’s annoyingly big— tall in height and wide in weight. he towers over you comically, hands roaming at every inch of your body as he drinks you up. his lips seek yours desperately, sliding over your glossy ones with practice that suggests hints of comfort.
your arms loop at his neck, and his at your waist. his mouth hardly lets up of yours, mumbling a little jump, as you comply with ease. thighs trapping him in your hold, you then find yourself face to face with him as he lifts you, large palms cupping at your ass. you fit just as perfectly in his hands as you did years ago, flesh so fat he gropes it tenderly.
the walk from the door to your bed passes in the blink of an eye, a timeframe you find pointless to recall as you indulge in the taste of him through his tongue. his presence is so overwhelmingly powerful— every touch and caress at your body reducing your limbs to mush. you cling to him, either out of safety reasons or desire, tilting your head from side to side to deepen the lip-to-lip action.
when he gets to the edge of your bed, he lowers you until your toes reach the floor. due to the difference in height, your lips part, a thin string of saliva connecting from both your mouths as proof of your unison. the blue shade of his orbs darken with desire, eyelids lowering as he drinks up the sight of you— lips plump and swollen, slick in saliva, chest heaving from lack of oxygen.
he raises a hand from your waist to cup at your face, and you detest the way your lean into his touch. your cheek fits in his large palm, and he swipes a thumb at your bottom lip, collecting your shared spit onto the pad of his digit. as he smears the fluid further across your mouth, he prods his thumb a little further— testing out the waters, wanting to see if you’d cave into old habits.
naturally, you allow it, his thumb swallowed by your puckered lips. you roll your tongue over his finger and your eyes never leave his— hoping to convey the rush of emotions you feel through your sultry gaze. your core throbs in want, your stomach erupting in butterflies and your heart pounding unnecessarily. unspoken words you’re positive he understood, if the way he groans when your teeth sink lightly into his digit said anything.
“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles, popping his finger back out. it’s coated in saliva, and like the freak he is, pops it into his own mouth. once he’s had his fill, he removes his hand from his mouth, and lowers it to your fleshy waist, slipping past the waistband of your panties, “take these off— ‘m hungry, need a taste of that pussy.”
your cheeks nearly split from your excitement, and you comply to his order, gripping at the hem of your shorts to pull them down to your ankle. he assists you despite the previous demand, his own hands atop of yours, a warmth and sense of security so familiar. when your shorts reach past your mid thigh, you allow him to meet you halfway.
he pulls your shorts down to your ankles, lowering himself to a knee. his movements are agonizingly slow, basking in the sight of your thighs in contrast of the shade of your loungewear. he steadies a hand onto your calf, patting it lightly, and you lift your leg just barely, permitting him to slide the shorts off your ankle and tossing it aside.
when the item is discarded, he redirects his focus back to you. he pampers your skin in kisses— delicate but hungry, trails of moisture crawling back up at your inner thighs and shooting right to your core. he looked unexplainably sexy on his knees, littering your body in hushed praises, the tip of his nose nudging at your soft skin. you bit your lip in attempts to cease it from wobbling at the intimacy he was providing.
“god, you smell so good,” he speaks into you, hands snaking to the back of your thighs, pressing you forward into him. your panty covered cunt presents itself right before him, and he plants his nose right into your intimates, your body shuddering as his nose bumps into your clit deliciously. a shaky breath escapes you, and his hands travel upwards to play with your ass. “turn around, wanna eat it from the back.”
the words are taken from you when his hand slaps your ass encouragingly, releasing a mini squeal, “you’re still too freaked out.”
“mhm, something like that,” you don’t see it, as you’re occupied on spinning on your feet to plant your hands on your matters for stability, but you’re positive he’s smirking. your arch your back for him, wanting to properly present the meal he plans on devouring. your cunt oozes slick against your thong just thinking about how he’s going to do you in, “there’s that arch,” a hand slides in the curve of your lower back, before snapping the band of your thong. it recoils against your cheek and you jerk forward at the sting.
“oh? did that hurt?” he taunts, and as you’re about to protest, he does it yet again. the snap is intense but never painful, but the nerve he had to play around like your pussy wasn’t a few centimetres away from his face. you don’t acknowledge how your panties cling even tighter to your folds.
“fuck off,” you curse through gritted teeth, but your hips wiggle backwards in attempt to get him to hurry it up. as if now was any time to tease— you couldn’t stand it when he did it all those years ago, and your feelings haven’t changed since, “get on with it. . . the fuck?”
you hear him sigh, almost disappointedly, and it only aggravates you further. your brows furrow in annoyance and you think you feel a vein tick at your temple.
“still so disrespectful,” gojo tuts, rubbing at your booty tenderly. so he wasn’t exactly wrong, but how was he expecting you to react when he’d just said he was going to eat you out, and proceeds to do anything but that? of course there’s going to be a little pout on your lips, “we gotta work on that attitude of yours.”
your face twists into a look of further aggravation, and you tilt your head back, readying whatever other bratty objections you had— though you’re ultimately interrupted by a sharp sting that spreads across your ass.
the strike of his palm against your cheek sprawls into an intense heat, the pain oddly pleasurable, and the moan that rips out of your chest is impossible to suppress. your eyes nearly jump out of their sockets at the audacity, and right as you’re about to complain, he does it again. and again.
“o-okay, shit!” you attempt to voice out, but he’s relentless, delivering blow after blow onto the same ground. there’s a curve in his palm, and it amplified the sound across the room. despite your protests, you can’t deny every jolt of pain rushes to your clit. you’re positive he knows you’re enjoying this, “gojo— fuck, okayyy!”
to your pleasure, he eases the slaps, opting to smoothen his hand flat across the reddened flesh. he hums pensively, the heat of your skin radiating against his palm in a way that forces a smile on his lips, “ ‘okay?’ what do you mean by that, baby?”
you clench your teeth at his faux ignorance. you know exactly what he wants from you, and you’re not sure if you’re able to give it to him as you are. an apology— he wants you to apologize, that bastard. your left cheek stings like a bitch, even with his now gentle touches, and your core is begging you to cooperate with him, in order for that attention it was neglected of. he is such a dickhead— putting you in a predicament like this one.
you swallow the last bit of dignity you hold, a constant reminder in the back of your mind that this was for the greater good— for the sake of your pussy. with a pained sigh, you tilt your head backwards to meet his playful gaze that stares back at you, right below the plump of your ass, and you muster the cutest look you can give.
doe eyes paired with a little pout, “‘m sorry. . . for the attitude,” you’re not sorry at all, but you desperately want your cunt in his mouth, so you do what you have to do, “can you eat it now? please?”
he flashes you a million dollar smile, all thirty twos on full display, and it takes every ounce of willpower in you not to roll your eyes right then and there. he was so full of shit, his eyes might as well brown. but still, you knew he got off on this kind of thing, and when he presses a quick kiss at the print of your lips, he replies, “of course, sweet girl— only because you asked so nicely.”
there’s no further need to speak, as you feel your thong being pushed to the side, followed by a cold breeze hitting your bare cunt, meshed with warm breathe as he feasts .
gojo eats you out like he has something to prove, and you know what— maybe he does. to prevent you from straying from him, he grounds you with two firm hands gripping at your ass. he spreads the flesh apart, his tongue lapping at your slick greedily. you can’t tell who’s moans are louder— yours or his, the man so engaged in sucking at your clit, nibbling on the bundle of nerves with practiced ease. you hold onto the sheets on your bed with dear life, thighs trembling as you struggle to hold yourself up.
“fuck, don’t stop,” you whine, pushing your hips further back, your mind overcame with utter greediness for more of that insatiable pleasure. you might as well have swallowed him whole into you, just as he’s swallowing you whole into him, his tongue diving deep past your hole and into your folds. he flicks his tongue expertly, licking at every crevice and nook of your cave, his jaw working overtime as his bottom lip never lets up at your clit.
your entire pussy is consumed by him, no area going neglected— drool slips past his mouth and spills onto your floor. a familiar heat licks at the pit of your stomach, a telltale that your dam is bound to burst anytime soon. he remedies your ache with another painful spank at your ass, groaning into your pussy when you clamp down on his tongue.
he was so fucking nasty— fucking into you with his tongue like he needed this more than you did. he makes out with your cunt, like he was a starving man on death row. at a particular cruel angle of his tongue fucking, your body would react with an all consuming tremble, fingers clawing at your duvets, your lungs releasing pathetic mewls. and the further you pushed back into his merciless mouth, the closer his nose nudged at your puckered forbidden hole.
he pulls away with a gasp, subbing his mouth out for his fingers, the pads of three fingers rubbing messily at your sloppy lips. the sound it creates is downright filthy, so painfully loud that it damn near drowns out your own moans.
“pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he spits a wad of saliva at your already soaked cunt, further amplifying the squelching sounds. he drags his fingers down to your clit, pinching at the bud with enough pressure to have your knees buckling, before sliding back upwards to your clenching hole. he slides into your entrance, index and middle fingers twisting in with ease, “bet she missed me, hm?”
“y-yes!” you nod mindlessly, your high creeping up on you as he works himself into you. taking six inches of fingers twice was a task in itself— the average length of a man’s dick serving purpose as fingering was just downright disrespectful. his knuckles poke at your silky walls, stretching you out to the best of his abilities, “shit— oh fuck, ‘m gonna cum!”
to your statement, he latches his lips back to your neglected clit, sucking on the bud as if he were intentionally trying to milk you dry. he hums at your taste, the vibrations shooting right up your alley and into the knot tightening in your guts— and when he curls his fingers upwards, at that spot that has stars dancing beneath your eyelids, the dam breaks. that knot stood no chance.
“oh goddd,” you cry out, spraying your release all over. it dribbles out your pussy and past the lower half of his face, to which his jaw widens as his mouth gapes— greedily aiming to slurp at your juices while simultaneously flicking your bean. the stimulation has your brain going dumb, as you fall flat onto your bed, drool collecting at the corner of your mouth and staining your sheets damp.
he lets you ride out the euphoric bliss, the movements of his fingers and the lapping of his tongue slowing down the more your body reacted to the overstimulation. when he deems you well spent, he lets up, slipping his fingers out and popping them back in his mouth, swirling your taste across his pallets, “as sweet as ever,” rising back to his full height.
you haven’t came that hard in a while, limbs reduced to nothing as you merge into one with your bed. your legs are still trembling, and your chest heaves as you exhale deep breaths. letting your eyelids close shut, you take the time to regroup yourself from that mind shattering orgasm. who the fuck had he been fucking that forced him to keep this skill? granted, you had no right to complain but holy shit, he was no fucking noob.
you feel the weight of his body press on top of you, a well-built chest meeting your moist back. it doesn’t take much to realize he’s hovering over you. his lips litter kisses at the column of your neck, moving up to the shell of your ear, leaving a trail of goosebumps after each embrace, “you tappin’ out already?” gojo snickers at your shell of a body, and you kiss your teeth at his typical mockery, “what happened to my champ while i was gone?”
“fuck off,” you pout, a little embarrassed by the fact that you really were retired from the game. sure, you were getting dicked down real good by your previous partner (question mark), but it never had you as exhausted as you currently were. there was absolutely nothing gojo satoru couldn’t do, and that ticked you off to no end, “nobody said shit about tappin’ out.”
“hm. . .” he hums, nuzzling his nose into your jugular, his hips grinding into the cleft of your ass. it’s impossible to ignore the bulge poking into you, and you doubt he was trying to hide it regardless, his hips rolling against the plushness of your behind, “guess sukuna didn’t do as good of job as he should’ve.”
that has your eyelids opening right back up. talk about an awkward situation— bringing up you and your ex’s (question mark) sex life while having sex with your other ex was a double edged predicament in itself. had you agreed, which lowkey wasn’t entirely wrong, you’d be stroking the fuck out of gojo’s ego and be disrespecting sukuna. but had you disagreed, you could end up on gojo’s wrong side and fumble an entire night worth of dicking.
so, once more, you take the easy way out, at the expense of inflating the white haired man’s ego, much to your dismay, “think you can do better?”
he stays silent for a while. in what you assume is him coming up with an answer to your question, his kisses travel to the dead centre of your shoulder blades, wet and open mouthed, as they crawl lower down your spine. with every kiss, your body caves into a state of relaxation, as if he was undoing every stress clouding at your hazed mind with his mouth alone.
he lands at the middle of your back, before he pulls away abruptly. and just as soon as he started, he was finished— removing himself off your body entirely. panic settles quickly in your stomach, as you turn your head around to see what he was up to. had you unintentionally hurt his feelings? damn, and here you were enjoying the body worship.
“what are you—” your words are cut off as his hands cup at your waist. he slides you back towards the edge of the bed, your feet planted on the floor once more. you feel some residue of your previous orgasm beneath your heels, eugh. you don’t have much time to spend thinking about how gross it feels when a hand holds your shoulders, and lifts you right back up.
your brows jump to your hairline in surprise at the sudden manhandling, though you can’t deny you found just a bit sexy. with his chest pressed into your back once more, you can feel his heartbeat thudding at the blade of your left shoulder, the organ withholding a steady rhythm— the tempo of a lullaby you’d once been accustomed to. and then big arms wrap around your frame, and holds you.
you hate the way your body folds so easily to his touch. it’s been an entire year, and despite your mind shouting at you for the intimacy you’re allowing to gallop right back into your life, your heart craves it. the sense of security his embrace offers you alone makes the least of sense, but you blindly lean into him, allowing yourself to be deluded for the time being. he won’t be yours as soon as this is over, so you might as well take the most advantage of the situation.
it takes a minute for either of you to speak. here you stood— half naked and legs sore, but still happily in his arms. his cologne is still as rich and dominating as it’d been all those times ago. he breaks the silence first, his chin resting above your shoulder, as he mumbles, “you really hurt my feelings, you know.”
to some degree, you know you did. about what exactly? you weren’t sure, but still, you offer him what you believe he wants, the realization leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, “i’m sorry.”
“‘s all good,” he kisses your cheek so tenderly that your neck cranes to the side to meet his gaze. gojo had always been so readable when it came to emotions, as he always wore his heart on his sleeve, but even with all the knowledge you knew about, you weren’t prepared for the look in his eyes. raw, unfiltered emotions. you only notice the close proximity between you both when your noses bump into one another. he shoots you a warm smile, “could never be upset with you. you hold that power over me.”
it’s you who kisses him first, and he returns the favour with more intensity. it’s an awkward positioning for your neck, but you don’t let up regardless of the ache in your joints. his mouth stays on yours as if you were his lifeline, tongues sloshing one over the other, brushing your lips together so gingerly.
in the midst of his tongue down your throat, he slips a hand in between your thighs, cupping at your abandoned pussy. the casual brush of his fingers at your core sent a breathy whine from your throat right into his mouth, and it only motivated him to work harder, rubbing slow patterns into your throbbing clit. your hips chase the feeling, riding the wave of his fingers.
he pulls away from your mouth, just barely, mumbling against your kiss bitten lips, “one of these days you’re gonna let me finish speaking,” followed by a knowing smile. sure, it could be seen as a flaw, but it was the only way you could protect yourself while keeping him within arm’s reach. never ready to have him but never prepared to let him go, “we can do that later— gotta blow your back out first.”
you couldn’t agree more.
it all happens so quickly— he retrieves his hand from between your thighs, having collected your juices at his fingertips, before lubricating his dick. he pumps at the length leisurely, his bottom lip tugged by his top row of teeth, and the groans he lets out are enough to have you squeezing your thighs eagerly, your cunt aching and ready to go. in the midst of your eagerness, you slip your hand behind you and catch his twitching cock, working your wrist right above his own, jerking him off.
a deep groan grumbles from his chest, and he instantly stops your hand from moving any further. you frown at his ceasing, but when you tilt your head to voice out your confusion, he offers a sheepish smile, “don’t wanna cum too soon,” ever the minute man, he was.
though, you soon find yourself regretting your own thoughts the very instant you feel the tip of his dick pushing past your entrance.
there’s a blended harmony of both your moans that bounces off the walls. his fingers dig deep into the flesh of your hips, holding onto you so tightly you’re positive you’ll bruise, and you clamp down on his intruding dick so tightly you’re positive you never want to let him go. the initial stretch is a feeling you’ll never get used to, but the sensation is all but unwanted.
“fuckkk, y/n,” he moans right into your ear, his voice so full of want, you can’t help but understand exactly where he’s coming from. he pulls his hips back, almost entirely, though his tip stays inside. it takes him a second to regroup, mumbling incoherent words under his breath, before he plunges back into your cunt.
and from that point on, it’s wraps. he fucks into you like a madman— as if he’d been punishing you for your crimes. punishing you for sleeping with another man. punishing you for leaving him a year and a half ago. punishing you for punishing him. his pace is ruthless— hips meeting your ass as fast as he’d pull out, pounding into your little hole to mould it into the shape of him.
he’s thick, this time on perverted shit.
you’re so painfully full of him, and despite your arms stretched outwards to grip at the sheets that had suffered more than enough of your abuse on them, your walls never let go of him. you don’t want him to pull out ever, utterly obsessed with the rough pace he set from the jump. it feels impossible keeping the curve of your back when the tip of his length repetitively attacks at your golden spots.
“ohmygoddd,” you words come out slurry, head lolling forward uselessly. if he kept fucking you like this, you weren’t going to let him leave again. stuck in an endless loop of bliss, with every thrust into your folds, his balls would slap at your clit and drive you insane, “y’re d-doing me s’gooddd,”
“yeah?” he eggs on, his voice as breathless as you’d been, though his pacing would never suggest so. there’s a hypnotic recoil of your ass bouncing back onto his pelvis that indulges him into disrupting it, delivering a new spank at your cheeks. you cry out at the feeling, and he strikes again, hips never letting up, “tell me more baby.”
you rise at your tip toes when you feel yourself sinking, legs giving out yet again. you hold yourself up at your elbows, a newfound confidence pushing your hips back to match his pace. when he heaves out a loud moan, you’re encouraged to keep going. the melody of your skins slapping against each other echoes into the stillness of the night, arching your back the further he plunges into your guts. you’re so turned on, the evidence creaming around the perimeter of his cock, easing the slides of his dick inside of you.
“toruuu,” you whine, too fucked out to notice your first mistake— calling him by his favorite nickname. at that given moment, you couldn’t care any less, the intense heat in your guts growing once more. the curve of his dick reaches spots you don’t think anybody could reach, almost as if he was made entirely for you, “you’re so big— can feel you, nghhh, everywhere!”
“that’s cause i am everywhere,” you think you can hear him smirking behind you. though, he has every right to feel entitled, with how much of a mess he’s reduced you to. he rolls his hips deep, a firm bulge forming into your tummy. as if he’s got a sixth sense or eye, he leans forward to rest his chest against your back— your eyes rolling back from the new angle. he slides a hand beneath your stomach and presses at the bulge hard. you can’t help the squeal you let out, “that’s me right there.”
you nod your head feverishly, the applied pressure on your stomach pushing his cock right at your cervix. oh god, he was going to kill you. what a wonderful way to go— all judgements clouded in favour of an eight inched dick penetrating your walls, “‘s all yours— mmh, always been.”
and that’d been your final mistake.
because the chuckle he lets out right into your ear is dark. the sounds shoot right up to your spine, shivers crawling up your back deliciously. he might as well be back stabbing you with how his cock plunged so sloppily out of your gaping cunt, “you always knew how to, fuck, pillowtalk,” he pants into your neck, his additional weight onto your shaking frame nothing short on welcoming. the hand pressing into your stomach lowers to your clit, and pinches meanly at the bud, “you know i’d, mmh, give you the world if you asked— my smart girl, shit.”
he’s so cruel, talking to you so lovingly despite it all. you tighten your eyes, in poor attempts to ignore the tenderness of the words fleeting his lips and focus instead on the stretch of your cunt down his dick. you feel yourself creaming on him, further proof of both your unison through his diabolical thrusts. he pinned you into place like this— unable to do anything but take what he gave you gratefully.
at a particular stroke at your abused golden spot, your body releases another tremor of shudders. it overtakes you from head to toe, a moan so ripe escaping your lips as you claw at ruined sheets. gojo works into aiming at that spot over and over again, each thrust more intense than the previous one. the change of his pace, slowing for a minute, draws you near the end of the line quicker than you’d anticipated.
“oh?” he grunts playfully, swaying his hips back and forth into your poor pussy. mercy is nowhere to be found, however, “you like it when i fuck you like this?” another agonizingly beautiful thrust at the same place, you can’t help but reward him with a cry. he’s fucking you into the damn mattress, and he has the balls to ask this question knowing the answer. still, you nod your head mutely, tears collecting at your lash line, and he nips at the skin on your jaw, “yeahhh you do.”
god, you do.
and suddenly, you can’t bring yourself to remember why you’d ever let go of dick this good. the kind that would have you taking the rubber off and considering finishing inside. the kind that had you babbling apologies for having done absolutely nothing wrong. the kind that made you begin to believe his careless whispers, empty promises to work things out.
in the midst of your delusions, he pulls you both back up from the bed, standing once again. at this new position, he reaches impossibly further into you, the difference in your heights making up for the inches he’s dug into you. his fingers dig in the column of your throat, the weight of his hand wrapped tightly at your neck. he’s everywhere at once, but simultaneously no where to be found. while you can feel his tip prodding at your most sensitive spot, you don’t feel the overwhelming force of love he once bore with open arms for you.
or was it you were feigning you don’t? because as he works himself back into you, at a pace so tender yet cruel, the line of boundaries you’d once set has been entirely deterred. a force so overwhelming, just like his entire being, bringing you right back to him as if you’d never left— nevermind the fact your thighs could barely support themselves, quaking pathetically. it was getting too much— everything was a lot.
“nahhh. . . don’t start running now.” you didn’t realize you were. the sheets are crumpled in your tight hold, while your other hand lightly pushes at his lower abdomen. you were a trooper, but there was only so much pleasurable torture you could handle. naturally, he pins your wrist at your spine to maintain his ruthless pace, and with another gentle yet cruelly empty promise, he coos, “not when i’ve just gotten you back.”
how the fuck did you get yourself in this mess?
oh right. . . tinder. you had a bone to pick with the ceo of that app right after you come back to your senses.
“i— i can’t,” you fumble at your words, the lack of oxygen catching up to you. you’re bound to his mercy— hands tied, breath nearly restricted, pussy obliterated, and yet, there’s nowhere else you’d want to be. the pressure on your throat lolls your head backwards, chin facing the ceiling as your eyes fall onto snowy lashes, “gonna cum again— oh fuckfuckfuck,”
and despite his brutality, he shoots you a sweet smile, the contrast in his words versus his actions grand, “right behind you, baby.”
you cum, and hard . much harder than you had before. you gush your fluids down his piercing cock, your folds squeezing him tight as you release. you think your mind blanks for a minute, an orgasm so powerful, you fear your eyes would stay stuck at the back of your skull. you shiver in his embrace, the insatiable desire racking your body from top to bottom.
when he pulls out, you fall flat yet again onto your stomach, face first. you assume you look like a puddle of nothingness, your limbs spent from the overexhaustion. but still, you find yourself in a similar position to prior, as gojo leans over your body, a hand holding him up as the other works on his jerking him cum out. smart move, not finishing inside, though a weird feeling of disappointment sits in your stomach, swapping the fiery heat from your orgasm.
he sinks his teeth into your shoulders as you wince, emptying himself right onto your lower back. it runs hot and smooth into the dimples of your back, that you can’t help but stretch your limp arm towards the mess to collect the residue on your fingers. you pop them into your mouth, his taste still so familiar as he plops right at your side, face up.
there’s a thick silence that fills the sex scented room. you wonder what is going through his brain now that the lust demon that was half his ego had been taken care of. was he on the same page as you were? had he realized just how messy this could turn out? he’s too quiet for a man of his nature— and that terrified you shitless. no matter the outcome, you’re ready to kick him out. post nut clarity was a scary thing— it revealed the violent truth of how tempting the flesh could be, even with consequences on the line.
you want to beat him to it. the last thing you need on your consciousness is your ex boyfriend who’d you invited into your home a year after you broke up with him, leaving you. he seemed petty enough to do the eye for an eye shtick— it wasn’t too out of character for him.
with a heavy heart and sigh, you turn your head to the side where he lays comfortably. the words want to die in your throat, but your urge them out, the sooner the better, “you should—”
“no.” he interrupts, followed by a yawn.
you frown at that, brows scrunching as you insist that yet again, “you need to—”
“nah.” gojo cuts you off yet again, rolling onto his side. his dick falls limp onto your bed, and you don’t think about the mess it’s making. to be fair, you’d done far worse. and it was proven difficult to care about that mess when he brought a finger to play with your loose hairs, cerulean eyes zeroing in on them, “i’m tired. let’s get you cleaned up and go to bed.”
“you’re not listening to me.” you click your tongue, a little desperate to have him hear you. you’re scared to keep him around longer, because you know you’ll grow attached again and that already ended terribly once, and took you forever and a half to get over. he has to leave and right now, “you have to go.”
gojo hums at that. he stops the twirling of your hair, rather reluctantly, and finally meets your sharp gaze. he still looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, “why?”
you narrow your eyes, “you know why,” you shouldn’t have to explain why two exes cozying up after indulging into each other was a bad idea. common sense, you figured, but was it common sense to have him over in the first place? a flurry of various emotions coursing over you laced with exhaustion had you overthinking like a motherfucker, “this was a bad idea.”
he trails his finger along the slope of your clenched jaw, and you don’t think about the fact it immediately relaxed at his touch. the longer he traced your skin, the longer he kept looking at you like that, you were wavering in your own logic. you’d both gotten what you wanted in the first place, so why was it he was still here? the rational decision would be to pretend this never happened and part ways again, but why was the thought of him locking the door behind him once again at your expense making you feel sick to your stomach?
when his finger lands at your pouty lips, he taps his index finger twice against the flesh. naturally, your pout deepens. his eyes flick from your mouth to your shying gaze, and his index swaps for his thumb. he runs the pad of his finger across the reddened surface, and his voice falls a few octaves lower, hushed for nobody else but you to hear, “you don’t want me to leave.”
you don’t.
he takes your silence as acceptance, and plants a soft kiss to your lips. it’s enough to rid your mind of its plaguing doubts in the meanwhile. and when his hand slides to cup at the back of your neck, ultimately deepening it, you can’t find it in you to care about the consequences for the time being. not when he was swallowing you whole like he was the one terrified to feel you slip from his fingers. you melt into him far too easily.
well. . . that was something you’d deal with in the morning.
tinder: 1, you: 0.
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now can y’all stop calling me a deadbeat 🙎‍♂️
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freakalot · 2 months ago
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"did you just spank me?" ☆
choso has wide eyes in the mirror's reflection as they meet yours. glossy and blown out with lust, but wide—nervous, like a deer stuck in headlights. you're bent over, back arched down as your boyfriends hands rest gently on your hips. there's a sting that lingers over your ass, and choso is holding his hand out like he's committed a crime with it.
it's not like he's vanilla—you're being fucked ass-up in front of a mirror so that you can watch him take what's his—but he's frozen still like he's appalled at his own actions.
"oh," he's flushing a gentle pink. "i'm sorry, i don't know why i did that. it was just so much and you were so—i mean... i wasn't thinking and—"
"do it again."
he's still balls deep inside of you—hips pressed tight against the flesh of your ass: his cock pulses inside of you, each veiny ridge filling you out like you're made for him. "why would i do that?"
“because it feels good,” you shrug, pushing back onto his cock a little. "cho, baby, i'm asking you to spank me, not commit a war crime."
"might as well be," he mumbles under his breath, looking down at the curve of your ass at his face scrunches up into an expression you've never seen on him before. is that... restraint?
your poor choso has never been all that good at controlling his wants and whims. he's a man whose body often betrays him: he couldn't hold an orgasm back to save his life, nor can he ever stifle those pretty moans of his. much like how he couldn't stop his hand from smacking against the flesh of your ass.
so, of course, you goad him on. clenching tight around his achy cock as you meet his gaze in the mirror. "i want you to spank me again, choso. be mean. make it hurt when i sit down tomorrow."
"i don't want to hurt you."
"don't you? you spanked me first, cho. i think you want it even more than i do."
his eyebrows furrow. its devastatingly cute for a man balls-deep inside of you. "shut up," he says with no real bite. "i didn't mean to."
"your hand just slipped and landed on my ass?"
"...yes."
you roll your eyes, and offer choso a smile in the mirrors reflection. “you look all embarrassed. just like that time you came just from kissing m—fuck!”
a sharp sting radiates over your ass cheek, and once you blink the shock out of your eyes, you’re met with a very sudden snapping of chosos hips into yours. he somehow manages to fuck you even deeper than before. with every thrust he sends you forward on the bed, until you’re no longer holding yourself up with your arms and your face is pressed right into the mattress.
“you always-” smack! “-make me feel-” smack! “-so nervous around you.”
your face screws up. “what?”
he stills, leans forward to take the sheet away from your face so you can look back at him properly. “i’m punishing you.”
“for what, giving you butterflies?”
“yes.” the sweetest of smiles pulls at his lips—you’d think it endearing if not for the way his hand slaps down onto your ass again, and he resumes his mean pace.
live and let cum, you suppose. choso drills into you in such a way that you’re cumming both quicker and harder than you ever have with him. your orgasm, the sweet way your pussy grips him in pleasured need, sends choso over the edge right after you. “mmm iloveyouiloveyouimsorryforspankingyouiloveyou”
of course with another mean spank to your ass, choso pulls out and exhales the prettiest moan you’ve heard from him as he releases all over your tender ass. you’re spent, and fucked so dumb you don’t chide him for then using his fingers to rub his cum around in soothing circles over your ass. you won’t admit it, but it feels kinda nice.
“sorry,” choso whispers as he reaches for something to wash you down with. “you should slap me as payback.”
“you’d probably like it.”
“…yeah.”
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madamechrissy · 19 days ago
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Baby You're a Star
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Art in the banner by Kerravi on x!
Pairings- Pornstar Satoru x shy f!reader
Warnings- mentions of sex and sexwork, masturbation ( f) oral (m and f receiving) fingering, spit kink low-key, cum swallowing, reader is innocent DON'T read if you don't like that, mutual pining, obsessive Gojo, he can't get hard if it's not you, this whole damn chap is smut so, aftercare and feelings. A little bit of angsttt, a lil bit of cuteness, demisexual reader and pornstarr Satoru what a pair.
Summary- You meet Satoru Gojo at a wild Hollywood party, insanely out of place, waiting for your friend to show up. The two of you hit it off, spending time together, and share a kiss, but you're a good girl, and you just don't do this, but he is the top pornstar there is, and the top .01 % on OnlyFans. Once you find out, you know there's probably no match, as Satoru doesn't date, and you don't sleep around, but after meeting, you keep in touch- and soon Satoru can't get hard without thinking of you, and you get over curious, and join a livestream of the boy you like. Just how will that go for you both!? WC 10.6k!
<<<Chapter One - Masterlist- Playlist- Chapter Three>>>
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Chapter Two
“Come in.”
You shyly take him in, how fucking gorgeous Satoru Gojo looks, shirtless with just a pair of dark jeans sound low on his hips, showing that perfect body up close. You can smell the shampoo he’s used, wafting in the fancy penthouse, just standing there and staring with your lips parted.
Pull it together!
“Thank you, it’s good to see you again.” You say softly, when he shuts the door behind you with a gentle click, and you eye him now, his gorgeous eyes bright and glittery, lips quirked up.
“You sure saw a lot of me.”
“Shit.” You cover your face, and he gently eases your hands down, smiling at you, laughing just a bit.
“Where are your glasses?”
“Contacts today. Do you um, like them?”
“I do, they’re cute on you, but I do like seeing your pretty eyes better.” He’s gently cupping your face as he murmurs, you’re trembling from his touch, his proximity. “Take off your converse. Keep on the kitten socks.”
“You like these huh?” You’re feeling so comfortable already, despite your nerves, of why you’re here, how fucking bold you are, so out of your comfort zone, but it feels fucking perfect. You ease off your shoes, and he kneels, making you gasp, as he runs his fingers over the soft fleece of those socks.
“They’re so hot. Shit.”
“They a-are?” He sighs, pressing a kiss on your thigh and looking up at you then, on his knees, he can inhale your arousal, making him almost press you up on the wall and eat you then and there. He barely controls himself, knowing you’re clearly not experienced, kissing your other thigh and standing slowly.
“Very hot. Need a drink?” You nod shyly, and he takes your hand, as you cross the luxurious expanse of his beautiful home, the finest furniture everywhere, plush shag carpet that would be impossible to clean, over to his kitchen now. “Pick your poison sweets.”
“Do you have wine? I do drink that a bit.”
“Do I have wine? Psh, what vintage, what year?” He pulls open a blue lit wine fridge then, stocked full, and you blink in surprise, peering down with him.
“Nothing fancy! Goodness, I like Rose?”
“Rose it is.” Satoru opens it with ease, some fancy electric cork opener that fascinates you, just making you cuter as you study it. “It isn’t that fancy, swear, this bottle is just ten years old.”
“Isn’t that fancy then?”
“No, not really, but it’s really sweet. You’ll love it.” He leans up, as you take in the enormous kitchen, he reaches a high up cabinet, snatching up two crystal glasses, your fingers brushing the pretty black marble.
“Your home is gorgeous.”
“It better be, fucking expensive as shit.” You can’t stop the little nervous laugh, praying you don’t snort this time jesus that had been embarrassing, thanking him when he hands you a glass filled with pretty pink liquid.
“Thank you so much. Mmm!” You taste it and sigh, eyes fluttering shut as the juicy strawberries hit your tongue. “Oh it’s to die for.”
“I taste better.”
You almost spit out the wine, and he’s grinning and wiggling his brow, you take another sip for courage. “That will be burned into my brain.”
“Good, it should be. I can think of a lot of things I’d love burned into my brain right now.” He sips that wine, just a drop spilling, which you lean over to brush off with your thumb, sighing as he grabs your wrist now, pulling you impossibly close. “Images of you have been steadily fucking me up since that night.”
“So it’s not um, one sided?” He scoffs, setting down both of your glasses, walking you until your back is against the counter, his scent overtaking your sense while his touch burns you.
You wondered, was it the party, was it in your head?
No.
His touch is everything, your eyes are drawn to his, while he leans lower over you now. “One sided?”
“Well, it’s insane and… Satoru I don’t just see you as some object, please know that, we could just… talk and I’d be happy.” He pauses as you murmur nervously, looking down, biting that lip too hard.
“Think I’d mind if you used me? I’d let you use any part of my body.” You gasp, eyes wide when they go up to his now. “Think you haven’t been on my mind since I blew that smoke in your mouth?”
“I didn’t know if- mnh!” He’s pressed you against the counter now, arms barring you on either side, your breath comes so fast as he towers over you in his elegant kitchen, eyes locking on his, head falling back just so.
“I wanted to respect you, despite my very disrespectful thoughts, of everything I wanna do to you.” He’s leaning lower, cupping your face with a hand now, breath mingling as he brings your face so close, lips a mere centimeter away. “Filthy things, I’ve been thinking of.”
“O-oh y-yeah?” He can’t stop his little laugh at you, sighing and tilting his head, pressing a kiss on your lips, just a brush of them that ignites need in your body, heart and fucking soul, which you try to shove down, to focus on how good your skin feels against his.
“Precious little thing, would be so fun to ruin you. Filthy fucking thoughts. But we’ll start with this one.” He picks you up now, you cling to him, arms around his neck, as your eyes meet, and he’s holding you like it’s nothing, hands gripping your ass under your skirt, squeezing and pressing you against him. “I wanna watch your pretty face when you cum so hard you can’t think.”
“God, Satoru…” He’s kissing you again, carrying you effortlessly to his room, you can’t even look at the luxe surroundings, enwrapped in his arms, drowning in his messy, expert kisses. “Mnh!”
“The little sounds you make.” Satoru certainly doesn’t fuck girls that aren’t co-stars or in the industry, but he can’t think of any time he’s ever been this ready, this filled with need for anyone. You feel so perfect in his arms, but you look even better when he pulls up, seeing you in the center of his huge bed, pretty lips swollen from his kisses.
“I love kissing you,” at your sweet words he pauses, and you clear your throat, feeling that flush hit your cheeks, looking down at his chin, touching it gently with a finger, before slipping fingers down his throat. “Too much?”
“No, I love making out.” You smile in relief, he should say how much he loves kissing you, but he doesn’t do that, right? He doesn’t just go dating, falling in love, with his lifestyle, it would just drag a good girl like you down, it’s why he held back, but now that you’re here, he can’t prevent himself from feeling it all.
He wondered, was it in his head?
How good you tasted, felt, your scent?
It wasn’t, and it’s even more intense now, the need unfulfilled by jerking his cock to you constantly, nothing like your soft, yielding lips and body under his, your breasts so soft even as nipples press hard through that fabric. He pulls back, littering kisses down your chest, your collar bone, watching you writhe under his sure touch, his ardent mouth.
“So good, ah!” Your hands grip his blankets, sweating just slightly as he drags down your cardigan, moaning then.
“No bra?” You’re shaking your head, and he smirks now, some of that LA Satoru Pornstar showing through. “Slutty.”
You giggle, before you moan, as his kisses delve lower, and he reveals a breast fully with an unbutton and tug, sighing as he sees one of your pretty tits. “I’ve never been called that.”
“I’m always called that.” You both laugh again, it’s easy, fuck, you feel so good just being under him, his huge hand gripping your breast now, eliciting a moan. “Like me calling you slutty when you’ve been such a good girl, hmm?”
“Oh my god.” He’s chuckling again, the man knows his effect, but you can’t argue, all you can do is gasp out, as he plucks a taut nipple between two fingers.
“Perfect tits, mmm.” He’s kissing down one now, tongue lapping your nipple, tastebuds rolling over the peak, and your eyes flutter shut, tummy clenching with ache for him. “Pretty, perfect, bet all of you is.”
You’re melting under his expert touch, perfect pressure everywhere you didn’t even know you were craving. “You’re so sweet.”
“I taste sweet too. Remember?” You’re furiously blushing now, covering your face as he grins down at you. “You asked, you know, slutty, it’s proven now.”
“It is slutty,” you’re giggling before he yanks the material apart further, mouth latching on to a sensitive peak. “Mnh, Satoru!”
“Mmhmm.” He’s sucking your nipple, pulling back with a pop of his lips, trails of saliva dripping from lush lips, and your heart won’t stop hammering, hot desire shooting through you.
A girl that has to have feelings.
But you already fucking do, admitting it or not, it’s more than his beauty, it’s so much more. You don’t want to scare him off, you just want to experience this, the longing so tangible it’s eaten you alive all week. The videos of him and your friend, him and other girls, dying to know what it feels like, but the way he is with you?
It’s different.
He’s gentler, more careful, sweet, with every caress you’re getting wetter, but also you’re falling into the abyss that is him. “What all have you done before, sweetheart?”
His question brings you back to the matter at hand- experience. “I have had sex once.”
He blinks now. “Once a day?”
You snort at him, as he grins, undoing the rest of your sweater and sighing at how beautiful you are. “Silly. No, just once with my ex, but I guess it was not very good, we split up the day after.”
“Your pussy probably ruined that boy.” You’re giggling again, god it feels good, natural under him, no wonder he’s just so very popular. He makes you feel so pretty as he’s slipping up your skirt, moaning softly. “Oral?”
“No.” He pauses a bit, running his fingers up and down your slit.
“Fingering?”
“Ah!” You can’t stop the cry that escapes your lips when your sticky wetness pours against his fingertips over your panties.
“Asked a question, pretty.”
“Hard to focus.” You’re crying out again, when he eases them down your thighs, eyeing your bare, glistening cunt and almost losing it.
“God it’s perfect.”
“Oh, Satoru, you don't have to say that.” His jaw clenches a bit, eyes narrowing, those white lashes shielding just a bit of the dazzling blue.
“I mean it, I am kind of an expert, you know.” You’re flushed underneath him, so adorable as you run a hand up and down his body, feeling every strong muscle, his cock is twitching, aching to fuck into you. But he holds back a bit, spreading your thighs, hands slipping up them now. “That’s why you asked, because I’m an expert?”
“Because I’ve never felt so comfortable, so…” you trail off, looking down shyly, lashes casting dark shadows on your cheeks, from the soft light over head. “I haven’t felt so wet.”
“Fuck…” He’s running his finger up and down your slit, watching you fall apart from that damn near, thighs tensing, your eyes shooting back up to his own. “You are soaked.”
“It’s a new problem.” He grins again, cocky and self sure, but there’s something to that smile, you try to pin it down but soon he’s thumbing your clit, and you’re gushing further down his hand, dripping onto his bed. “Oh!”
“You touch yourself?” You nod, covering your face again. “Show me.”
“Show you?” He nods, easing back and gently pulling your hand off your face, until your fingers are kissed so sensually, and he puts it down to your pussy, enjoying the color spreading across your cheeks. “Like now!?”
“It’s how I’ll know what you like. Women please themselves better than most men do, so I avidly study. Are you a clitoral girl, a g spot girl? Penetration, friction?”
“It’s like a science to you huh?” You’re fascinated, but not as fascinated as Satoru Gojo is when he’s watching your tiny little fingers part your plump folds, pressing up to find your little clit. The action is sexier than anything he’s seen, and he’s seen so many lewd, wanton things, but this?
God you’re just art.
How your lips part, brows together in concentration, as his hands press into the plush of your thighs, blue eyes drawn right to your slick cunt, drooling wetness out of your little hole. He’s barely hanging on by a thread, a man of his experience and profession, decimated by the pretty girl tentatively rubbing her clit for him, in nothing but a little skirt shoved up her hips, that sweater laid out under her. 
“Mnh!” Your quiet little moan elicits something feral, he tries to remain calm on the outside, give you a smirk, as he leans down, pressing a kiss on your inner knee, feeling you tremble underneath him.
“So you like your clit played with?” His husky words just make you wetter, more sensitive, as you play with yourself spread wide for this man.
“Y-yes.” Your little nod is met with a gasp, as you look at his fingers, slipping slowly up.
“Can you cum from it?”
“Usually… the wand…” He kisses higher up your thigh, watching as you get so wet you’re slippery, fingers slipping as he watches you avidly, watches the way you’re shifting, tilts his head to see where you’re pressing.
“She’s probably tiny and hard to get. Allow me?”
“Yes sir.” He chuckles at that, taking his thumb and pressing up, hitting your clit so good you can’t take it. “Oh! Oh my god…”
“She’s very tiny. But that’s good, easily stimulated,” Satoru’s murmuring now, touching your slick, bare cunt, making him die to taste you, pressing the quivering little clit while you cling to his wrist, whining out. “You like that, sweets?”
All you can manage is a nod, as he brings you to the edge, pleasure filling you, the sighs mixing with the sounds of your slick cunt clicking in his room, echoing and making it even more lewd, wild, while you let the man you hardly know touch you. Fuck you want him to, as he presses up harder, and you’re gripping his forearm, feeling those muscles tense as he works you.
“Satoru!” He moans softly, god he loves how you say his name.
“Ready for a finger inside you? Bet you’re so tight.” You nod nervously, when he slips his middle finger in then, so long it’s insane, making you gasp out, as he exhales, moaning out softly with you. “Knew it, so tight, but… here’s a spot baby.”
He curls his finger just so, and you’re gasping for a breath, while his thumb still presses your clit, your body writhing as he builds pressure. You are so tight, he’s questioning how much work up you’d need for his cock, but he’s sure it’d be worth it, to stretch this perfect little cunt out. He swipes back a little drop of drool off your lips when your back arches off the bed, tits begging for his kisses.
You realize then, it’s not just his skill, how good his thick finger feels inside of you, how beautiful his lidded eyes are, it’s the energy emitting from his being, with every exhale, how he looks at you underneath him. You gasp as he hits a spot deep inside your slick walls, making you see white hot stars for just a moment, soft cry escaping your lips, you’re so wet you can hear it, the squelching of your cunt so loud in his penthouse.
But it’s not just how good it feels, you know it’s something more, how Satoru looks at you like you’re the prettiest thing there is, like you’re all there is. His other hand strokes your hair back, as your thigh hitches up over his hip, allowing him to sink deeper with an impossibly long finger now. The way he feels, his weight on you, everything about him overwhelming all your senses.
“Look at you, fuck…” His soft murmur causes his hot breath to brush your lips, you taste just how sweet he is, your hands gripping his chest, as your eyes roll back with how his fingers hit. “There you go, feel her pulsing around me, can you take two, sweetheart?”
“They’re so thick…” He chuckles now, cocky in his little grin, pulling one out to suck it off, and your throat goes dry, seeing his cheeks hollow, and his own eyes fluttering shut as he moans.
“It tastes so sweet, god.” He sucks his other clean finger, tapping your thigh now. “Relax, if you can’t we’ll go back to one, okay?”
“Y-yes.” You’re so cute laid under him, the little squeak when he slips two into your tight little cunt making him chuckle. “You’re laughing at me.”
“You’re so adorable. Sorry.” He’s smiling at your half assed little glare, but you’re all flustered, your cheeks heated to the touch when he presses his lips on one, sinking both fingers in now, making you cry out at the stretch. “Loosen up, sweets, relax. Just feel it.”
Just feel.
But you feel too much.
Fuck.
You nod as he leans up, dying to yank his lips down on yours, craving the connection even as he eases you to relax, to take more of him, and when you do, when you’re that full, your moans get throatier, cunt slicker. He exhales as he feels it, as he watches you, easing back to shove that skirt higher up, to look at your little hole sucking him in so greedily.
“God I wanna bury my fucking face in her, can I?” Your lips part in a gasp, when he’s laying prone between your thighs, easing his fingers out to spread your lips, watching your little hole wink and twitch as it leaks more of your arousal out of it.
“Y-you do?” He smirks now, soft tousled hair falling over his brow, you brush it back then, making him even harder, cock twitching in response to that, as he inhales your scent.
“I would die to have you cum all over my face, drown me in it.” How is he. He’s insane and ruining you. “Your cunt is even fucking cute.”
“How can it be cute!?” He’s chuckling again, breathing against you, and yours comes faster, breasts rising and falling in your open sweater.
“They can be cute, especially yours.” He smacks a kiss on it - ‘muah’ making you giggle then, instantly relaxing, as you realize…
You trust him.
He’s a stranger, but fuck if it doesn’t feel like you’ve known this insane man forever, exhaling and spreading your thighs more, he notices the action, you relaxing under his palms, earning more of him dying to enter you. But he has this feeling, that once he does?
You’ll fucking ruin him.
Your taste alone is sweeter than any wine he’s had, the most corny shit he should not come up with in his sex addled mind, but you make him think of more, of every reaction of your pretty body. How you cry out, your sighs, the way your hips shift now, your little hands gripping his shoulders, nails pressing in, making him vividly picture how good it’ll feel when they’re raking down his back.
“You want it, hmm sweets?” He asks again, kissing higher, sighing as he nears you, feels your heat against his face. You nod then, shyly, and he leans up a bit, pressing one more kiss over your hood, chin brushing your needy little clit. “I need explicit consent, enthusiastic consent before we go further.”
Fuck he’s perfect.
You’re playing a dangerous game, you already feel yourself falling into the unreal swirling blue storms of the eyes looking up at you, from between your thighs. Your hands relax then, cupping his cheek, which he presses a kiss on your palm, and you decide any of him is worth it, how badly he makes you need him, how willingly your body is ready to respond, your heart needs to stay in its chest.
“Yes, I would love you to, please.” Your words end him, sweeter from your lips than he could imagine, and with that he doesn’t just lick you, no, Satoru Gojo devours you then and there. “Ah! S-Satoru!”
“Mnh…” He’s buried his face against your pretty pussy, and fuck he’s ruined further just from it, from sweet arousal seeping into his tastebuds, as he dives that tongue in your pulsing little hole. You’re tensing under him, tummy trembling when he presses down on it, making his next stroke so intense you start to fall apart under him, hands yanking his silky locks.
You taste sweeter than anything.
And fuck if Satoru Gojo doesn’t have one hell of a sweet tooth.
The way he devours you then is surreal, you’re clinging to his hair just to grasp the earth, his hungry moans vibrating your sensitive clit as he flicks his tongue up to it, sucking it in his hot mouth, making your toes curl under those socks, the sensations so overwhelming, and he’s just getting started. He’s got that smug look in his blue eyes when he glances up at you.
Your taste is something he can’t describe, Satoru loves eating pussy, but fuck if you’re not an entire delicacy, spread just for him. Some possessive, psychotic instinct takes over then, knowing he’s the first to kiss your pussy, lap you up, having you pull his hair so hard it hurts, as he presses his cock against the mattress. Why is he so fucking feral over you?
Every insane fucking instinct kicks in while he slathers your cunt with his saliva, his tongue lapping up your juices, and god there’s so much. You’re soaking his face, manicured nails pressing against his scalp, while you scream out hoarsely. Your moans and little cries just make it more intense for him, when he’s flicking his tongue just so, making you writhe under him.
He grabs at your hips, dragging you more impossibly on his face, and sucks on your clit, hard, making you jolt and moan his name now, your body arching off the bed. Satoru is relentless, his tongue flicking and circling, his teeth grazing, and it’s driving you wild, making you want to grab him and push him deeper, grind against his face. But you hold back, biting your lip, your hands tight in his hair as he devours you.
“You can fuck my face till you cum, don’t hold back.” His whisper is met with a lewd kiss on your clit, grinning against you now, you feel every line of those straight white teeth on your sensitive cunt.
“I c-can’t do that!”
“Yeah you can. Use my face till you get off.” You’re blinking in confusion, even when he’s literally been with so many women, you can’t help but feel special, how he looks at you then.
“You sure?” He nods, and you yank him against you then, to his satisfied moan, hips arching up to fuck his pretty, perfect face now, grinding on his long, talented tongue, as he continues to fucking ruin you with each stroke. “M’cumming!”
He just moans, as you can feel your orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that’s going to shatter you, hitting your tummy and making it clench, the heat spreading while he works you so good, like he knows your body better than you do. And then he does it, he pushes his long tongue inside you, curling it just so and pressing on your gummy walls.
At the sensation your hips pause, his nose bumping your twitchy little clit, and you cum so hard you’re blinded, your body shaking as you scream out, so loud it should embarrass you, but he’s loving it all. Your cunt squeezing and spasming around his tongue, pussy pulsing with the force of your climax. He groans into you, the vibrations sending aftershocks through your body now.
“Oh my god, oh my f-fucking… Satoru!” You’re pushing at him now, when he flicks his tongue back on that clit, making you clench around nothing now, struggling as he pushes you into another fucking orgasm. “S-sensitive!”
“Good.” His first word since drinking you up. “Messy, slutty little cunt, she loves it huh?” He’s damn near talking to your cunt now, smacking another messy kiss along it, face glistening with you, making you flush. “Can you cum one more time?”
“It’s a lot I…”
“You can, hmm? C’mon, one more f’me, pretty please.” You manage a shaky breath, nodding while he sinks a finger into your pulsing hole.
“Oh! Mnh!” You’re reduced to noises, words can’t be formed when he curls his finger just so in your messy cunt now, pressing up and hitting the sweetest pressure, your hands grip his blankets until they crumple underneath your hands, as he pushes you once more, this time more intense. “Cumming, cumming!”
“Mhmm.” He just moans that, watching you with dilated blue eyes that appear almost black, curling a long finger so deep you shatter, weak and dazed as you come down from the high, blinking away stars.
“Holy fuck… what the…” He’s sighing now, easing his finger from your tight little cunt, pressing kisses to your inner thighs, as you brush back his hair, trying to catch your breath. “You’re better than any vibrator my god.”
“Of course I am.” He’s grinning, when you swipe off your slick, embarrassed and flustered. “You’re so messy baby.”
“I’m so sorry! I’ve never done all this!” You lean up on your elbows, looking at the wet spot under you, drooling across your thighs, and all over his lips and chin.
“It’s sexy, stop it.” He leans over you now, you gasp as his hot heavy length presses against you under his pants, taking several shaky breaths, eyeing his lips.
“Can you kiss me again?” Your whisper is raw and vulnerable, you’re trembling under him, as he leans closer. “Sorry I just need it.”
“Of course, you should taste yourself.” He slams his lips down, the charge between you both unreal, you’re drinking yourself off him, thighs pressing against his hips now. Your hands slip up his strong back, feeling how hot his skin is, while his tongue delves into your mouth, and you taste your sweetness.
“Thank you.” Your little whisper ends him then, between smacks of kisses between you two, he should be thanking you for letting him, since when has he thought that way? “God, fuck that was intense.”
“You came pretty easy for me, you know.”
“Oh!” He’s grinning and wiggling his brows, and for a moment it feels too natural, too easy to be under him, making you both pause.
This was what he did for a living.
He’s certainly having fun, but you can’t get too confused.
“What else would you like to do? Are you sure you’re ready for it all?” His intent makes you so nervous.
“I wanted to suck you? Is that okay?” Satoru’s cock hurts so bad it takes everything to hold himself back, from grabbing your pretty face and fucking it, stretching that little throat out. He thinks he’s dreaming, swathed in your taste, your scent, brushing your now messy hair back gently.
“Is that okay? Fuck yes.” You giggle now, as he helps you sit up, switching positions and lying on his back now. You are almost naked, the skirt still on along with your kneesocks - those kittens, so cute he thinks - something so seductive about you keeping them on as you get on your knees.
“He’s very pretty. Is that weird to say?” He shakes his head, letting you unbutton his pants now, watching you avidly, your hair falling to the side, just over one breast, which he puts back over your shoulder now. He watches you shiver from the contact, goosebumps on your breasts.
“He’s very pretty, I already know this.” You roll your eyes a bit at him, but his laughter dies when his cock is free, and he’s helping you take the rest of his boxers off his slim, long legs. “Blushing again?”
“It’s bigger in person!? How.” He’s just beaming, you’re sure this is merely stroking his enormous ego, but you can’t help it.
“The camera subtracts two inches.”
“Does it now?” You’re leaning down, hair brushing his thighs as your tiny hand wraps his thick, massive cock, tracing a pale blue vein under taut skin, watching as he jerks, whining out softly. “Is that okay?”
“God yes…” He’s swallowing now, it was easy to be conceited eating you out, but he’s a fucking mess when you barely touch him. He shuts his eyes, trying to pull himself together, he’s supposed to teach you, not get flustered like some damn virgin, about to bust from a touch. “Have you jerked one?” You shake your head. “I’m so confused, how did you have sex at all?”
“He just put it in, and it hurt.” Satoru frowns now, seeing the expression on your face.
“You can’t just put it in, you’re stupid - ah - tight.” You’re stroking a bit, laying down now, breaths against him.
“Two virgins I guess we sucked.” You muse softly, sighing a bit. “But you’re… much, much bigger.”
“Well I wouldn’t hurt you. Okay?” You nod then, smiling because you already know, pressing the flat of your tongue to his slit, making him whimper, the sound has you pause, as you taste him, sticky precum coating your tongue.
“You are yummy.” Satoru can’t take it then, yanking you up and making you gasp, pinning you beneath him. “Satoru, let me suck it please?”
“I can’t take it.” He kisses his taste off you, drool pooling in your mouth as he hastily unzips your skirt. “I’ll bust quick.”
“How? I’ve watched you, and your stamina-”
“No stamina right now. Shit stamina.” He’s kissing you again, and something shifts, hungry and desperate, overwhelming your senses, filled with him. Your hands grip his obliques, feeling them tense as he moves, as he breathes with you. “Let me have you cum again.”
“I wanted to make you cum.” Your soft whisper elicits a low growl from him, as he clutches you so tightly you almost can’t breathe, wondering just what the fuck you’re making him into. “If it’s fast won’t that mean I’m doing good?”
“That’s one way to look at it - ah!” You’re touching him between your bodies, stroking him again, watching how his lips part, his jaw clenched, muscles so tense his arms are shaking. “Shit, okay.”
He stands now, as you’re on your knees, brushing your hair into a ponytail and holding it there, pulling just a bit as he touches your cheek. “Tell me what to do?”
“Open.” His soft command is husky, reverberating through you, as you do just that, forward on your hands and knees, as he slips the tip of his cock against your open lips, painting the precum along them like the prettiest gloss. “Fuck…”
You stay open, god you’re a good girl, aren’t you?
“That’s it, use your tongue sweetheart- f-fuck…” As you do just that, and his cock fills your mouth, Satoru loses his tentative control, pulling your hair so hard you cry out just a bit. “Shit, you okay?”
You pull back with a pop, looking up at him with dilated eyes, lidded and full of desire. “I’m good, I um… liked it.”
He pulls it again, pricking pain that makes your cunt impossibly wet again, as you suck him in, trying to remember what you’ve seen before. Satoru’s moving now, sucking in a breath when he sinks deep in your throat, feeling you gag around it, he has to pause his thrusts, exhaling.
“Relax the throat, just like that, such a good girl, aren’t you?” You’re whining out, pressing your thighs together as you suck up and down his length, so long he makes you choke, tensing. “Breathe through the nose, there you go.”
You’re listening so perfectly, would you listen to anything he said?
Satoru’s never been one for too much bdsm, but fuck if you don’t elicit every goddamn thought of anything he’s seen. Tying you up, blindfolding you, making you cum until you faint from it, waking you up and doing it again. He struggles to cling to any sense of composure as you shut your eyes, nostrils flaring a bit, sucking him in so deep inside your tight throat, squeezing him.
“Fuck, you’re doing so good, look at you. Sucking him so deep, can you bottom out?” You try to concentrate, relaxing your throat, nodding just a bit, and Satoru can feel the bulge of his cock in your delicate throat as he brushes his hand along it, sighing at how goddamn sexy you are.
His abdomen flexes, the muscles taut and defined as his hips move, as his cock pulses in that tight chamber, gripping him and making him think just how perfect your pussy will feel. The thoughts of it have him fucking your face harder, faster, as you reach down, touching yourself, unable to take it, balancing on one arm now.
“Gotta touch your pussy again, love my cock so much?” This isn’t Satoru’s ‘pornstar voice’ no, it’s husky, desperate, broken, as he feels you pushing him closer and closer with each suck, flick, gag, god when you gag it feels so good, so much he wants to keep causing it.
You’re slipping two little fingers in your slick hole, they slip in easily which has never really happened before, but how can it not when Satoru had stretched you with one of his long, thick fingers? Something is heady when you look up at him under your lashes, hitting your own spot, whining and choking on his cock, watching the flush of his cheekbones, feeling him tense.
You feel so much, more than just sucking a beautiful cock, the intensity and care of him fucking your throat means too much, how he’s delicate, careful, holding back. You see it in his tense body, you feel him shaking, holding back so he doesn’t hurt you, testing just what you like. And you want to please him, god you do, you want him feeling just a bit of what he just gave you.
Satoru’s breaths themselves are pornographic, heavy and stuttering, his words broken as he fucks your face so goddamn good, you’re pumping your fingers in quicker, but god nothing felt like his. Long and thick, compared to yours, so short and not hitting a goddamn thing, squishing and clicking, along with the sound of your suction, slobbering all down Satoru’s length now.
“You’re so good, d-didn’t need a lesson, for shit- ah! Mmm!” He’s louder than you expected, in the clips you watched he was a little more quiet, he’s so loud and vocal while he thrusts, pausing then, pulling back, letting you take a dizzy breath.
“You like it?” Your whisper ends him, he shakes his head.
“Like it no.” That wasn’t a good word for whatever your innocent mouth is doing to him, he’s had the most practiced girls, he’s had multiple sucking him at once, as he came all over their faces, crossed eyes and tongues sticking out. But nothing is like your nervous little look, as he grabs your hand now, yanking it off you.
“Ah!” You’re gasping as he sucks your cunt off them, moaning as he does, making your jaw drop.
“I’m about to cum, where do you want it?” You turn into a flustered mess when he releases your spit soaked fingers.
“Wanna taste you.” Your answer has him desperate, he’s pressing your lips open again, cock shoving deep, you moan around him, pushing Satoru over that ledge.
“Wanna swallow all my cum, like a good girl?” He knows what that does, it’s so clear, and you manage a nod, when he fucks your face faster and faster, hands gripping your face delicately for as hard as he’s going. “Ready baby?”
You merely whine out, shaking as you feel him pulse in your throat, he pulls back, and then you feel it, hot and sticky, so much cum, ropes of it pouring in your mouth now, as Satoru whimpers again. This time you know it’s different from what you heard, his usual moans, looking up to see his eyes fluttering shut, his hands gripping your face harder as he keeps filling your mouth.
You swallow him all down, he is sweet, just a tiny bit bitter, but flooding your senses as your hands grip his thighs, and you suck him all down, every rope of white cum filling your throat and now your tummy. You’re so full, sucking more and more, until he’s sensitive, gasping.
“F-fuck, god, I’ve… you…” He can’t form a word, as an innocent, nerdy little thing has destroyed him, made him into a whimpering fucking mess.
How the fuck.
He eases back, and tilts your chin up, as your hands slip up his abdomen, brushing the soft white hair above his still hard cock. “Lemme see, did you swallow it all?”
You nod, opening as he guides your jaw, and he sees your pink tongue, your mouth devoid of his cum aside from some that had spilled on the corner of your mouth. Satoru exhales, swiping at it now.
“Want more of me?”
“Yes.” It’s instant, you don’t even think of it.
“Then open again.” You do just that, when Satoru spits right down into your open mouth, lewd and filthy, the saliva stringing down until it hits your tongue. “Swallow.”
You gulp him down, as his hand wraps your pretty throat, and he can’t stand it then, a cock that’s cum twice today won’t go away, it’s coming back if anything at how debauched he’s made you. How obedient you are, looking at him in shock, wiping at your lips, cheeks tinged with color.
“Pretty fucked out little doll.” You whine out as he kisses you again, craving his lips more than anything, the way you feel in his arms, as he presses you against his hard body. “Are you sure you’ve never done it?”
“Y-yes, um… you’re very sweet.”
God. Ruining him.
You’re ruining him.
He’s kissing you again and again as his phone goes off, he smacks at it, scowling, mouth back over yours, tits squished in his huge hands. His cock is hot and heavy against your thigh when it’s going off again, he sighs, leaning up and peering over at it on the nightstand.
“Manager, shit.”
“It’s fine, go ahead Satoru.” You whisper, stroking his cheek now, he moans and kisses you again, before leaning up now.
“Yep.” He answers, still running his hands down your tits, your nipples, eliciting cries you try to bite back, much to his pleasure. “Yeah I know I just… have wanted to do solo for a bit.”
You’re trying not to listen in, caressing a bicep, feeling just how strong and cut he is, while he smiles down at you. You hear the manager’s voice, and watch Satoru roll those baby blues, sighing now, sitting up a bit. You go to do so as well, but he gently pushes you down, shaking his head.
“I don’t wanna do the gang bang, too many dicks.” You can’t stop the little laugh, and Satoru smirks at you, pressing a little kiss to your collarbone. “You’re gonna scare my friend off. Yeah I have friends, the fuck?”
Satoru continues the conversation, still kissing on you, something you didn’t know how badly you needed or craved after doing so much with him, god his cum is inside you, along with his spit. Imagining him just… leaving you… or sending you home after he came was a big fear, and what you expected, but the fact that he’s so touchy is making you feel even more comfortable.
It’s like you’ve known him.
Since you met him you felt that way, your heart aches at his cute, almost boyish grin, while he keeps speaking. “Fine, I’ll do the shoot if it’s that much money, but I swear I’m tired of Sukuna lately. And Toji? Ugh. Fine, fine then.” He hangs up his phone, and you bite that lip, making him gently tug it. “I hate gang bangs.”
“That’s not something I thought I’d hear from anyone?” He tosses his phone aside, kissing up the side of your neck, making it tickle. “You have a shoot?”
“Yeah, I avoided them all week.” He pauses then, not wanting to say why, surely you don’t… feel anything other than pleasure, right? And if so, you’re a good girl - what if this life hurt you?
“Why are you avoiding it?”
Satoru sighs, kissing up to your ear, dying to say it - you.
But that’s fucking insane.
“I get a little exhausted sometimes from it all, I figured I’d focus on the OF.” He leans up, brushing fingers across your cheeks, still hot to the touch, your gaze affixed on his collarbone now. “I really hate working with Toji and Sukuna. Suguru is fine, we’re so close I guess. But those two are so annoying. And one girl, four dicks? Dicks touching, balls touching.”
“Oh god.” You’re nervously laughing as he does. “So why do it?”
“It’s my job, I can’t keep turning em all down, already got my manager angry as fuck clearly.” He sighs now, because he can’t even fathom having a girl under him, it’s like you’ve done something.
“So a gang bang.”
“Yep. Ugh. Let’s not talk about it.” He’s kissing you again, and you can’t help but again feel envious of anyone that gets him, and you damn sure should not think this fucking way. “Do you want more?”
“I think maybe a pause. Because that was a lot. I’m a little worn out.”
“Amateur.”
“I’m not a pornstar!” You shove at him playfully and he laughs again, but this time you feel it, the tension, his hand gripping yours gently, warm and wrapped around your little wrist, as it rests on his chest.
“There are amateur pornstars you know.”
“Well that certainly couldn’t be me. I don’t think I’d let so many people see me naked- not that I mind that you do! Did that seem judgy!? Shit-”
“Shh. No, you’re just you, and that’s okay.” You heave a breath of relief, hoping he would never think you’d judge him, as you fall deeper into that gaze. “So when is your next lesson, student?”
“Student!” You can’t stop the blush, the giggle, that makes him die for you over and over, when the door opens. “Oh!”
“I forgot to mention, I share the penthouse with Suguru.” He quickly buttons your cardigan, as you slip on your skirt, and the two of you hear kisses and soft moans, Satoru steps out curiously, literally still naked. “Oh, hey Mandy.”
“Gojo!” Suguru is kissing down a pretty girl's neck as Satoru leans in his doorway, dick just out like he couldn’t care less, and you step up behind him, earning Suguru’s curious gaze.
“It’s the pretty girl from the party.” He smiles, as the girl - Mandy, you guess - looks at you as well, and you recognize her.
“Oh it’s Jenna’s friend, hi.” You wave and she giggles, bouncing over to you, while Suguru takes his jacket and shoes off. She gives Satoru a kiss on the cheek, then takes your hand. “You take the best pictures of her, oh my god!”
“Oh, that’s sweet of you.” Satoru finally goes to slip on his jeans, giving you all a good look at his little round ass, as he slips them up over them. “She told you I took those?”
“She did. Hey, I’d pay good money for a shoot.”
“Oh, I don’t do it professionally…” Satoru comes back now, a hand at the small of your back.
“You took those of Jenna?” You nod now. “Shit they look pro.”
“There are always side hustles love.” Suguru says now, holding a hand out to you, and you put your much smaller one in his, as he brings it to his lips. “We didn’t officially meet. Suguru Geto.”
You give him your name shyly, and then he’s dragging Mandy to his room, as she waves at you now. “If you change your mind, let me know!”
“I will.” You’re fidgeting a bit as they shut the door, laughter echoing through Satoru - and Suguru’s - penthouse. “A co-star?”
“She’s mainly Suguru’s co-star, but I’ve joined in. That is about as close to dating as he gets I think.” There it is, the word - dating. He clears his throat then, tilting your chin up. “Seriously, those pictures are so good. I didn’t know you took them.”
“Jenna is just beautiful, it’s easy.” Satoru frowns, watching you look down nervously.
“I mean lighting, angles baby, that shit matters in the industry. You said you did graphic design?” You nod. “Not too far off art in general, and bodies are art.”
“You think bodies are art?” Satoru leans down now, one hand on either side of you.
“Yours sure is.” His words do too much damage, words you die to hear from his perfect lips, but here you are - falling - when you know damn well you can’t.
“You’re way too nice.”
“I am not even. I told you I’m an expert.” He grabs your waist now, and you can’t stop your heart from racing, from feeling too much, for a man that apparently will be having a whole gang bang tomorrow. No, you have to keep this separated, you got pleasure, he did, and that’s okay.
Right?
Get out of your head!
“Let’s get you something to eat, bet you forgot hmm? You’re all shaky.”
“You notice a lot.”
“I like to pay attention,”
He’s perfect, aside from… his job is to fuck people.
Shit stop caring!
“Let me heat you up something, come on.” You follow him into the kitchen, hearing the moans and cries, and Satoru smirks as he peeks at his phone. “They’re really on cam right now.”
“Oh!”
“Wanna see?”
“No, no. No way.” Satoru turns on the microwave, leaning on the counter, eyes raking over your body slowly, you feel it like a caress.
“Only watch me, hmm? I’m so special?” His lips turn up, and he’s teasing, but you almost say yes, he is, holding it back nervously.
“Maybe you are.” You want to seem teasing, fun, but your voice is just soft and nervous, Satoru’s lips part, as if to speak, then the microwave beeps. “You don’t have to feed me, Satoru.”
“Yes I do. It’s nothing, I have a million of these meals, and they’re full of protein- you need that after sex you know. Sit.” You sit up on the bar stool now, as he places the little meal in front of you, then turns to the fridge, to give you the best view of this man’s back.
God it’s sexy, the curve of his spine, the dimples in his lower back, the bulging muscles so defined, your mouth goes dry for a moment. He pulls out a water bottle, before going over to one of those pretty white cabinets, pristinely clean for two bachelors living here you notice. He takes a little packet, smiling at you as he tears it now, pouring it in.
“Electrolytes, for the waterfall.”
“Oh god.” You’re covering your face as he laughs, the sound is so nice, it’s too nice, how thoughtful he is, when he shakes up the bottle and hands it to you.
“It’s hot, stop. Eat.”
After eating as much as you could, and drinking most of the bottle he’s mixed up, Satoru has you in the bathroom, tenderly helping you clean up, fixing your outfit while you’re waiting on your ride. He is by far the sweetest guy you’ve met, careful when he wipes you up in places that make you blush, then tackling your hair with a flat black brush.
Satoru’s brushing your hair gently, you see him towering over you, behind you in the reflection, so careful as he slips that brush through your messy hair, so relaxing you almost fall asleep. “You’re spoiling me.”
“This isn’t spoiling, sweetheart.” God the thought of spoiling you fucks him up. Images of fucking you in just some diamond body chain, and nothing else, brings the cock he’s trying to calm down get hard all over again. “Aftercare is important.”
“I see this. You do… for your co-stars?”
“Of course I always make sure they’re cleaned up and okay, but especially for you and not being so experienced. I imagine you didn’t get that with your ex?” You shake your head a bit.
“I thought we were in love, after that I really closed off. But no he was sweet it was like we both were a little too sheltered, and then that kind of cinched it, that we weren’t compatible. Do you think everyone can be physically compatible?” Satoru purses his lips then, shaking his head.
“I can make anyone cum, because I know how, but,” his hand puts down the brush, now he’s eyeing you in the fancy gilded mirror, brushing your hair over your shoulders, studying your pretty face. “I don’t think everyone ‘vibes’ if that makes any sense.”
“It does, actually.” Was that it, you two mesh well? Not whatever fantastical ideas run rampant in your addled mind? When he rests his chin on your head now, holding you, you try to remember, Satoru is sweet, he does this with his costars. He’s just a good guy who knows women.
It can’t be more.
While Satoru remembers that he could not ever be good for a girl like you, and he shouldn’t even let this happen, because you’re fucking his brain up. The thought of fucking anyone makes him cringe, god all he wants to do is bury his face between your thighs again, keep having you cum. He’s got to remember you trust him to show you things, and that’s all it needs to be.
He has a career he loves, right?
His hands slip further down your body, your breaths quicken, his big hand splayed on your tugged cardigan. “You really are art.”
“Satoru, the things you say- mnh!” He’s lost now, cupping you between your thighs again, as he presses you against the counter, eyes so bright with those shrunken pupils, as you feel fingers glide against your panties again. Your eyes roll back, head falling against his chest.
“Let me have you cum one more time before your car gets here?” You weakly nod, how can you not, and he moans, bending low so he can slip your panties to the side, fingering you with two, you try to cover your cry, and he yanks your hand off your mouth. “Wanna watch that pretty face.”
You’re so fucked.
He has you gushing down his fingers, making a mess all down thick knuckles, hasty and quick in the bathroom, as his lips touch the shell of your ear. “I can’t wait to sink my cock so deep in this perfect cunt.”
“Ah! Satoru… ngh…” You’re ended, wrapped in his dangerous embrace, eyes losing focus when he murmurs again.
“Look at yourself when you cum.” You never have done this, you’ve never seen your face this way, the way your eyes are so dilated, you can barely see a ring of their color anymore, your parted lips, when he slips another hand under your chin, keeping your face forward.
You’re pulsing around his fingers once more, this time so sensitive from your orgasms it’s even easier for him, when he kisses up your neck, up to your ear, breaths heavy against it. Your vision shakes when you’re getting closer, ass arching while he presses you even more against the marble sink, the soft cream walls all fading as you begin to shatter.
“Art… see?” His whisper is so raw and genuine, you nod weakly, falling against his strong body as he eases his fingers, pressing them to your clit and eliciting one more orgasm, running in circles while he watches you, hungrily, and you know it even more, cunt spasming for him.
You really fucking like Satoru Gojo.
You want to be dumb and say what’s in your heart, but it can’t be, it’s his enigmatic charm, it’s his sweetness, it’s how sexy he makes you feel. It’s his presence it’s… god, all of him, intoxicating like some drug, and you’re not sure if a taste of him is anywhere close to enough, when he takes his fingers out, leaving you empty, putting his fingers to your lips.
“Suck.” His quiet orders are so easily obeyed by you it drives him to insanity, pulling you close as you taste his fingers, eyeing how sensual and fucked out you look in his arms, wondering how he lets you go.
*****
The Next Day 
The bright lights of the set are fucking blinding, there’s too many dicks, that must be it, not the girl that’s in his fucking head constantly, that he would do anything to have gushing down his face again. The one he kept thinking how beautiful her goddamn eyes were while she swallowed him, versus just thinking of the pleasure, no it was more, far more.
“Satoru, you really need Viagra buddy.” Sukuna says with a chuckle, when the director yells - cut! - and Satoru sighs.
“Oh fuck you, it’s all your dicks.”
“You look like you really don’t mind-”
“Toji, stop.” Suguru pauses him before Satoru and Toji fight as they tend to when they butt heads on a shoot. But, the directors wanted the top stars, and here they all were in one room with a beauty, who pauses sucking Sukuna and jerking Toji then, looking at Satoru curiously.
“I need a minute.” Satoru’s manager frowns now, having seen this before in the last shoot. He comes up to him now, as Satoru frowns at his usually at least semi hard cock just hanging there, irritating him to no end.
“Go take a break. Try to… get back to it.” Satoru nods, heading to the dressing room and downing a bottle of water from the fridge, leaning over the counter where they do their makeup, though Satoru never really needs anything but a little clear mascara for those long white lashes.
He came in your mouth, he had you on his face, shouldn’t that have fulfilled something, the longing and desire? Did he need to fuck you to actually be able to function? Or if he fucked you would he be good and ruined!? Considering her mouth and hand could do nothing to him, and his annoying co stars talking shit certainly didn’t help anything.
How were you?
He hadn’t heard from you today.
Since when does he care if a girl hits him up? He frowns now, wrapping a towel around his hips, hanging low, pulling up his cell phone and seeing it then, making him smile, and he sees how lovesick and goofy the smile is in the mirror. He immediately tries to stop it, the grin, but his lips keep twitching when he looks at the text again.
Good Girl🫦 (yes that’s what he saved you as, no he’s not sorry) I hope you have a great shoot today, Satoru. I am not working tomorrow if you’d like to get dinner? Is that weird? It’s weird. Just have a good day! Ignore me!
He laughs a bit, you’re too fucking adorable and just awkward, god he fucking loves it.
🌽🌟 Satoru (yes that’s his name in your phone, no you’re not sorry) You’re cute. Of course we can do dinner, you pick a spot?
He sits down as the three dots do more to make him hard than this stupid ass shot, wondering at you then. Was dinner code for a lesson, or did you want to hang out with him? Spend time? He fears that would make him fall just as much if not more as touching you, kissing you, because god if he doesn’t just love listening to you talk, like that night at the party.
You fascinate him.
Good Girl🫦- I sure can, six pm work for you?
🌽🌟 Satoru - Sure thing sweetheart.
When he calls you sweetheart you can’t stop the goofy smile on your face, but then you remember where he is. He’s probably on a break from… a fucking gang bang, and you can NOT be jealous about that. You cannot be upset that you already want him to yourself, greedy, stupid and selfish. God you knew you probably couldn’t handle this well, but the fact that it’s more intense than you anticipated is hard to swallow.
But you want him near you, even just for dinner, you were so nervous he’d turn you down, but god if you don’t enjoy his presence altogether. He makes you laugh, he makes you feel so good, as if this… emptiness you’ve had for a long time is filled by a big white grin and sparkling blue eyes.
🌽🌟 Satoru - We’re friends, right?
Good Girl🫦 - Absolutely, no matter what ‘lessons’ we do, I want to be your friend.
🌽🌟 Satoru - Then can I get a favor, pretty please? I will make it up by buying us dinner.
Good Girl🫦 - Of course, what is it?
🌽🌟 Gojo - Another picture of you.
You’re flushed now, surely on a shoot with a beautiful girl he didn’t need some picture of you? You’re home now, just in gym shorts and a crop top, hair in a messy bun, your glasses on.
Good Girl🫦 - Satoru I look like crap.
🌽🌟 Satoru - Bet you look hot.
Good Girl🫦 - Picture of what?
Satoru sighs in relief, biting his lower lip, wondering if he should just come out and fucking say it - he doesn’t think he can get hard if you’re not there, in his head, if he doesn’t see you. It’s a theory that’s getting more and more tangible by the moment, that he doesn’t know if he can perform his damn job anymore because your taste is soaked in his tastebuds.
🌽🌟 Satoru - Your perfect tits, please? I’ll show you mine.
You giggle then, shaking your head, skin so overheated when you nervously look in the mirror in your room, scattered books and stuffed animals covering the dresser. Can you do this, take a picture of… your body for him?
Good Girl🫦 - why? Aren’t there tits for you waiting?
You’re bratty, he didn’t realize till now. It makes you hotter.
🌽🌟 Satoru - Not even close to as pretty as yours - and there are so many dicks and balls. Help your friend out :’) I will make sure I kiss them as a thank you.
Good Girl🫦 - Image.
You freak out as you send it, the picture of your tits in your mirror, and Satoru moans out loud at it. Yeah, he saw them, but fuck, you’re perfect, hair up in some messy bun, your glasses on the bridge of your pretty nose, little baby yoda plush front and center against your mirror, god it makes you even hotter. You’ve wrapped an arm under them, pressing them up and together.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
He’s throbbing now, looking down at his cock straining the terry cloth towel, scowling back at the phone, realizing he thinks you have put some spell on his perfect cock. Are you some witch disguised as a sweet little thing!? He eyes your tits again, almost whining at how pretty they look, at how badly he’d love to fuck you between them, cum all over them.
He’d cum on every inch of your body.
🌽🌟 Satoru - You’re so perfect.
You’re covering your face, sighing as his words - probably just being nice - are too much, they mean too much from him. You’re questioning everything you are and everything you’ve ever known, throbbing with need from his mere words, nipples aching for his touch. You look back at the phone, fingers hovering on the cool dark screen, shaking slightly.
Good Girl🫦 - You still on set?
🌽🌟 Satoru - Unfortunately. That brightened my day. My cock is smiling, you know.
You snort at that.
Good Girl🫦 - You’re silly. I’ll let you get back to work.
He doesn’t want to get back to work.
He wants you on the set, but fuck if he’d let anyone else touch you if you were his-
Wait.
What fucking kind of thought is this!?
He doesn’t think that way.
Looking at your picture again, he rushes back out, trying his very best to keep up the tentative erection, he can’t manage to get involved however, touching skin that’s not yours seems wrong somehow. You’re not together - he doesn’t date, he can’t date - but he can’t stay away from thoughts of you here instead, and how he’d film just the perfect video with you instead.
You would never, but the porn he imagines you two could make is what feeds his brain for the next twenty minutes or so, he tries to let the other men fuck her, as he lets her jerk him, or suck him, shutting his eyes and picturing the tits on his screen. He doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to cum, finally settling to jerk himself, when they’re all putting the money shot on the star.
He wants to cum all over your pretty face, god. He vividly sees it as his ropes of cum pour out, and he notices with relief the shoot is over. Usually he would have some friendly banter, but he’s distant, odd as he cleans up, it feels like he’s so uninvolved, even that night he’s staring at your pretty tits again, cock in his hand when you’ve messaged him.
Good Girl🫦 - Sweet dreams, Satoru.
Fuck.
He wants you in his bed so bad, but not just to finally fuck into your perfect little pussy, shit it would be nice to hold you. He’s never done that. To just kiss on you and watch your cute reactions, the little giggles you make. His cock throbs in response, since when has Satoru became someone to masturbate to a fucking photo?
You’re laying there, hating the thoughts in your mind, that he was with someone else today - but you’re friends. Friends with some ‘lessons’ that should not mean as much as they did the other day, not just the pleasure, or how badly you want him inside you, no it was his sweet kisses, him brushing your hair, fuck he fed you and made sure you were okay constantly.
You just want him, any of him.
Cruel, cruel joke - making you fall for a pornstar who will never date. But, here you are, watching three dots move now.
🌽🌟 Satoru - Good night, sweetheart.
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The LOVE on chap one is insane for me, I am so glad you all love it! Taglist is closed bc it's too much but I'll keep everyone updated!! <3 I hope you enjoy I can't waittt to hear your thoughts hehe
Taglist 1 - @rjreins @juicu @kalulakunundrum @gojoswaterbottle @aldebrana @simp-plague @wedojustbevibin @lucciferr0 @officialholyagua @privthemis @coffee-and-geto @homesickes @msniks @emi311 @mai-505 @gojoslovelylover @ren-ren23 @yihona-san06 @emochosoluvr @sylvermoon @bunheadusa @karvokr @starmapz @queenexplosonmurderr @musiclover2119 @saitamaswifey @reagan707 @midorissi @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @itsinherited @maisiefrancesca @gyarubunny @theonlyhonoredone @chosslut @simperisksksk @xlilycoco @howlsdarling @femaholicc @maymaymarch @miseryyouth-99 @swoozleee @zeunys @cryingdevil @leafynightmares @princess-bblgm @gojosconsort @insomnicshello @joonunivrs @myahfig4 @silviscosplay
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your-internet-bf · 11 months ago
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It's been a while since you've seen a doctor, and you're nervous as you follow the nurse back to my office. What's there to be nervous about, this is just a little checkup, right? You notice the nurse's manicured burgundy nails as she knocks sharply on the door. She turns to you, smiling prettily, and says, "the doctor will see you now."
You push open the door and enter quite a large room. The nurse follows, closing the door behind you. In the center is the examination table, off to the right is a small crowd of young adults, appearing to be made up of men and women, and on the left is me, seated at my desk. "Welcome," I say, standing and extending one hand. My voice is deep, warm, and smooth, and you fumble for a moment, blushing a little, before you remember to shake my hand. Your hand is dwarfed in mine, my strong fingers encircling you, and a thought flashes unbidden through your mind - what would those fingers feel like inside you? - but, come on now, that's really not appropriate...
"I have a few students with me, as you can see. Is that alright?"
"Well, yes, of course!" Why shouldn't it be?
"Excellent. Now, I'm pioneering this new full-body examination method - it's really quite extraordinary, the maladies I can detect this way - but be warned, it is, shall we say, unorthodox. Is that alright?"
Just for a moment, you see something in my eyes, something behind the genial smile and gentle, reassuring tone. Just for a moment, you feel like some specimen, some piece of meat, pinned down under the lights with nowhere to go... but just for a moment. Surely, nothing bad can happen, and I'm a doctor, aren't I? You can trust me. So you swallow your fear, and you acquiesce.
"Excellent! Let's have a seat on the table, if you don't mind, and we'll make a start. Nurse V, if you would..."
As you sit on the table, the clinical, sterile seating a little cold against your skin, the pretty nurse steps behind the table, facing you, waiting for something. From your right, I approach, and you feel again just how much larger than you I am as my broad shoulders block out one of the ceiling lights. With all these people watching you, it takes all you have not to squeeze your legs together, just a little bit.
We begin with a quick examination of your face - "you have beautiful eyes, you know," I purr into one ear. I place one hand on the side of your neck and tilt your head; god, you've been reading too much, haven't you, the way you want these strong, expert fingers to close around your throat.
"Now, open your mouth for me, please." You oblige, and I cup your chin and slide my thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. Your eyebrows jump in surprise, and you look at me questioningly.
I smile again, still inside you. "Unorthodox, remember? Now, close your mouth and try to swallow." From behind, the nurse strokes your cheek with the back of one hand, and you feel a sudden ache between your legs. You close your lips around my thumb and swallow. It tastes... clean, mostly, as one might expect from a doctor, but you can taste the sweat underneath.
"Very good, one more time for me."
You swallow again, and you feel me slide my thumb over the surface of your tongue, pressing down, swirling in circles.
"And, one more time... yes, that's it, good job, very good job."
The praise for this degrading task is more than you can bear, and you squeeze your thighs together. Fuck, it's humiliating, everyone just saw you do that... All these eyes on you, the beautiful nurse behind you, this big, strong doctor with these big, strong hands and that big fucking bulge... but no, this is just a checkup, nothing is going to happen, right?
While you were thinking, I dried my hand off and had begun speaking.
"I'm - I'm sorry?"
"No worries. I was saying, can you remove your top, please? We need to examine your heart and your breathing."
You stare at me. "Remove my - "
"Yes, remove your top. The fewer barriers between me and you, the less interference with my examination." My face is quite serious, almost bored - this really must be routine. You look back at the nurse, and she smiles slightly and nods. So you undress, your nipples betraying you, standing at attention. You blush as the crowd of students looks at you intently. The nurse lays one warm hand on your shoulder, slender fingers gripping you reassuringly, and your eyes are drawn once more to those burgundy nails.
I step in close, and you feel my breath warm on your chest. "Now, observe the stiffness in the patient's nipples - this is to be expected, given the cool air, and it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of," I say, smiling. I press my stethoscope up over your heart, the metal cold on your skin, and your mind is betrayed by the pounding of your heart. My eyes flick up to meet yours, and I grin, predatorily, and once again you feel like a piece of meat beneath the lights.
I examine your breasts, starting with your left. Enclosed in my big, strong hands, I squeeze and push, prod and pull, ostensibly feeling for any abnormalities, but the way my fingers brush over your nipples, the intensity with which I sink them into your soft breasts, heaving now as your breath comes faster... My practiced tongue rasps over one nipple and a tiny moan escapes your lips as you try desperately to hide how much you're enjoying this; try desperately, and fail.
Abruptly, I pull back. "Excellent! All seems well here." I rest one hand on your other shoulder and turn to the students. "Note the pleasure response during this section of the examination, and I hope you were paying attention to the oral technique."
I turn back to you, my eyes dancing as they meet yours. "Fully undress, if you would. The inspection must continue."
Your hands tremble as you slide your clothes down off your waist, and the nurse aids you, her lovely hands stroking along your thighs and calves as she does.
"And spread for us, please."
Obediently, your thighs open, exposing your cunt, your needy, aching wetness, to all.
"Note the beauty of the patient's sex, here. The shape of the folds," I murmur, tracing one finger along your sensitive lips, "the balanced ratio of the clitoris to the vulva overall," sliding two fingers on either side of your clit, squeezing gently between them, "the appropriate pleasure response in - "
You lose what I say as I plunge two fingers inside you, powerful and dextrous, knuckles slipping past your tightness easily. It feels so fucking good to finally have something inside you, after all this aching and teasing, and god, so many people are watching, they're all watching your pussy spread and toyed with by this big, strong, handsome older man, and now the nurse's slender fingers are across your throat and her lips are on your forehead, and she tells you that you're doing so well for me, you've been so good...
My fingers press up inside you, finding your g spot, and with my thumb rubbing on your clit, I start melting you. Waves of pleasure course through your body, you gasp, moan, whimper, and with your eyes closed you can't tell whose lips are so soft on yours, but it feels so fucking good, and all those people are watching and it makes you want it more, your back arching, chest heaving, melting under the attention, and finally, mercifully, you cum, contracting around my fingers, squeezing your thighs together, trembling, shaking, gasping for air. You hear me say something, but you're so overwhelmed with pleasure that all you can make out from my speech is "very, very good".
The hand withdraws from your throat, and I gently, gently, extricate my fingers, and settle my hand atop one thigh, fingers slick with your desire.
The nurse whispers affirmation in your ear as I address the class. "Stimulation in this manner, of the two most sensitive sex stimuli, brings the most consistent and powerful orgasms to those possessing these organs." I stroke the inside of your thigh reassuringly, before turning to you.
"The final part of this examination is seeing how well you handle penetration. I'm going to need your unequivocal verbal consent before proceeding."
The nurse leans in and whispers into your ear, "might I suggest 'please, sir, will you fuck me?'" You'd blush harder if you could.
You swallow, nervously, and there's a twisting in your gut as you say it. "Please," you begin, voice cracking. "Please, sir, will you fuck me?"
"Yes, that is sufficient. I must say, though," I warn, unzipping my jeans, "that I am quite large." I slap my cock down on your tummy, and the sheer weight of it shocks you. You've seen size like this in porn, sure, but fuck, you've never touched something like this. When you tear your gaze away from my cock, I'm grinning down at you, predatory again. "You can back out at any time, you know." My voice is low, teasing, challenging. "Should we continue?"
You nod shakily, and spread your legs a little wider.
One hand on your raised knee, one hand guiding my cock, I push against you. For a moment you realize the exam had to be done in this order; if you weren't so fucking wet, there's no chance you'd be able to take me. But all thoughts are blasted out of your mind as I push harder and slide in.
It's so fucking thick that you can't help but groan. You've never felt so full, so strained inside, being pushed in every direction; you're not built for this, maybe there's just too much, your body is rejecting me - and then I push again, another few inches, and you slam your head back against the padded table, a long, drawn-out "fuuuuuck" wrenched from your lips. You feel my strong hands brace at your hips, and with a final thrust, slamming your cervix up into your guts, moving your entire body, the ridges of my cock sliding deeper and deeper, sliding painfully, pleasurably past your walls, I'm inside you.
The nurse rests her hands on you again, and purrs in your ear, "you're doing so well for him, I know it's hard, it's so hard, but you're doing such a good job, pretty girl..."
Glacially, I pull out, allowing you a moment to rest, before thrusting in again, hands still at your waist. You sob once, loudly, and then you sink into it as I pick up a rhythm, deep, deep strokes inside you. You hear me grunting, whispering something, and I grow more frantic, impaling you a little harder, and through the wall of pleasure you hear me rumble, "nurse V, begin the overstimulation procedure."
"Certainly, doctor." She leans over you, lips fiercely meeting yours, and one of those slender hands reaches down to abuse your clit. An image of those burgundy nails on your cunt flashes through your mind as I continue pounding you, forcing you to spread for me, adjust to me, even as the nurse plays your clit like an instrument, and fuck, she's a virtuoso.
You sing a song of moans and voiceless curses under our combined mastery, knowing your audience is entranced, filled with a blazing, lusty pride. The deep bass of my voice, resonant in your skull, is saying something, but you cannot hear me; you're moaning, groaning, pleading, "yes, yes, oh my god yes" over and over...
The song swells to a crescendo and with two sudden strikes, two powerful thrusts into you, it ends with a thick, hot, sticky white wave of my approval inside you. You feel it pulse deep, deep inside, filling you, load after load delivered straight past your bruised, abused cervix.
You come back to reality with my cum spilling from between your legs, trailing thickly down onto the exam table. I zip up my jeans while the nurse helps dry you off, from all the sweat and saliva. She dabs caringly at your mouth, and you notice that the cloth is dyed the same shade as her lipstick.
"Now," I address the class, "I hope you were paying attention." I rest one hand on your aching, trembling thigh. How many times did you cum with me inside you? How long were all these people watching you writhe beneath me, begging, losing yourself in the pleasure? You have no fucking clue. "This patient has bravely volunteered for each of you to examine her, here and now, while she's available to us."
Your jaw drops. When did you agree to that? You would never - but you were begging, "yes, yes, yes" earlier, weren't you, while I was talking. You agreed. Everyone heard you say it.
"One at a time, please. And," I say to you, grinning wolfishly, "don't worry. I'll be watching the entire time."
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 4 months ago
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Good enough
Tags: Caleb x fem!Reader, smut, unprotected angry sex, Caleb’s back and he’s jealous, breeding kink, mdni, not proofread sorry, this shit is NASTY i fear.
An: This one is for a dear friend of mine 🙂‍↕️ Thanks for making me pull out of my writer’s block. LOOK i’m so sorry if this is bad but i had to write SOMETHING to pull me out of this funk… i hope you all enjoy
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How did you end up trapped underneath your half-cyborg best friend who was legally deceased while taking the meanest deep strokes of your life? Well, there’s a simple answer. Caleb knew Xavier was home.
Actually, he knew everything: the dates, the tender moments, the secret times, the nightly rendezvous. Pissed was an understatement.
Had you forgotten? Had you forgotten all the promises you two made each other when you were younger? Had you forgotten that you were fucking made for him? You had to have. That’s why you were stringing along 4 different guys. You were trying to fill a hole that only he could fill.
That had to be why.
Regardless, Caleb knew Xavier was the type to listen to you through the floorboards of his upstairs apartment. He was a lot alike Caleb in that sort of manner. They were both possessive freaks who couldn’t stand the thought of you being with somebody else.
That’s why Caleb was fucking you so hard — pounding your pretty pussy so deeply into the mattress that you were seeing stars with each mean thrust.
He used his size to his advantage. It was fitting. He’d always loved how much bigger he was than you. That’s how you received your adorned nickname: pipsqueak.
He planned on his first time with you being a lot more gentle than this. He planned on being sweet and loving. He planned on cherishing your body the way you deserve, but you just had to go and give yourself to 4 other guys before him.
“Stop crying.” His voice rumbled as his piercing gaze found yours — so much different than the sweet childhood friend you had. His hand covered your mouth as he hunched over your figure, still ramming his cock head into you ruthlessly. “I know you can take it. I’ve watched you take it before.”
Your eyes blinked back tears as you looked up at him. He was being so mean. You couldn’t believe this was the same doting Caleb that you grew up with, and you didn’t even want to think about the face he had been watching you…
“Fucking pussy’s made for me, and you’ve been letting other men try to make her feel good.” He growled as he used his less-than-human arm reach down and gently rub against your small button of nerves.
“Caleb-!” You choked out as your body writhed beneath him. You could feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock splitting you apart, making you wholly his and his alone.
“That’s right… Say my name, baby. Tell me who’s making you feel so good.” He prompted with a confident smirk before he hauled your legs up above his shoulders, sinking even deeper into your dripping cunt.
Clawing at the bed, your back arched as you tried to cope with the intrusion. He’s so fucking deep it feels like you’re going to choke on him. “Caleb-“ You sob as your cunt pitifully clenches around him.
Feeling you wrapped around him so sweetly, crying out his name as you’re so overwhelmed with pleasure has Caleb revitalized with a new vigor. His hips work in tight circles, pumping his fat cock in and out of you as your cunt makes the most obscene squelching noises he’s ever heard.
“Such a fucking noisy girl. I should’ve know you were going to be a crybaby.” He teased before placing open mouth kisses along your neck snd shoulder.
“W-wait Caleb- calebcalebcaleb. I’m gonna..” You pant out nervously as his metal fingers were still rubbing languid circled around your cunt, and his tip was smooshing globs of precum against your cervix.
His fingers suddenly pinch down on your clit, making you cry out from the sensation. Your body went taut as you were being dangled on the edge of pleasure. His robotic arm wasn’t quite letting you get there.
You thought his arm was literally malfunctioning until you heard him chuckle from your suffering.
“You’re going to cum when I saw you can, okay baby?” He asked in that same condescending tone he always used when you two were younger.
His hips continued to roll after he was sure that you weren’t going to fall off the deep end, and he let out deep guttural groans, feeling your pretty pussy soak him. It was like you were practically trying to suck him in. He couldn’t believe he had waited this long to sink into your cunt like this.
and the best part about it was he knew your stupid upstairs neighbor was listening! Xavier knew you were down here getting railed, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
Hell, if he even tried, Caleb would use his evol and force him kneel beside the bed as he drilled you even harder.
Fuck, the thought of slutting you out in front of every single one of your little boyfriends had his stomach tightening. His hips snapped forward into you with a pace that could only be described as feral.
You were a complete babbling mess at this point — utterly cock drunk as Caleb had you folded in half, filling you up to the brim with his length.
“Ohhh, that’s my girl.” He purred as he saw your glossed over look. “It’s coming, baby. I’m going to give you want you need.” He promised as he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead that completely contradicted the ruthless way his hips were rutting into you.
“C-caleb- Caleb no, wait.. Don’t cum inside-“ You stuttered out in a panic. You hadn’t been by the pharmacy yet to pick up birth control, so technically, this was all unprotected.
“Why?” He growled as his back curled over. He was fucking mounting you while holding your thighs in the prettiest mating press he’d ever seen. “You fucking let them fill you up. Am I not good enough to breed this pussy?”
His hips slammed into you. It felt like he was trying to push his way straight into your womb. It was mind-numbing pleasure, making black orbs and stars dance across your vision.
“Look at me, baby.” He ordered, dragging your face to look back up at him. You could barely see straight. It was all too much. “You’re going to let your best friend breed you, and you’re gonna fucking love it. You’re going to cum all over this fat cock until you can’t breathe. Understand?”
You dumbly nodded your head, halfway hearing his words. Your pussy was aching to cum. Your swollen puffy folds were greedily accepting him in with every thrust. You wanted this. Birth control be damned. Everyone else be damned.
Caleb gritted his teeth together as he gave you a few more good harsh thrusts for good measure. He then crushed his body against yours, burying himself all the way to your womb before his cock started to jerk and pulse inside of you, shooting rope after rope of his thick potent cum. The only thing on his mind was the need to see you, his childhood best friend, round with his baby.
He needed to see the look on each other of those pricks’ faces when they realized you were spoken for.
The cherry on top was when he felt your walls clenching around him, happily milking his cock for everything he had while you sobbed and hiccuped his name. It seemed like his childhood best friend was maybe just as twisted as he was. He’d have to give her an extra good reward for being such a good girl.
As the room went still and quiet — only filled with shared breaths and pants for air, the sound of someone stabbing a sword through the ceiling was heard, and Caleb chuckled deeply. He had definitely pissed Xavier off.
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daemonbrain · 4 months ago
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Part 2
1.8k, cw: ghosts a pervert, smut, readers husband is piece of work, not proofread.
Simon Riley who first saw you at the butcher's shop on the phone. 
You were a pretty thing. Wearing a pink little yoga set, one arm holding your mat and the other holding your phone to your ear as you wait for the butcher to bring out your cut of meat.
Which was taking a long time
Simon would’ve had it chopped and packed to go by now. Though, he can’t complain with the view he has of your ass- you. The man was touch starved. He hadn’t been back home in a while, back-to-back deployments keeping him occupied. His only company being his calloused and scraped hands roughly jerking himself until he came, bordering on unpleasurable. Not what some could consider enjoyable, but try being in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere for weeks on end and see if you care so much about gentle.
The borderline perverted look you were blissfully unaware of was tracking down your form. He stared at the way the material tightly clung on to every bit of you in a welcoming way, a second skin. The sweat on you from your little session.
Just how flexible does yoga make a bird like you?
It was only when he heard a grating sound come from your phone that he snapped out of his trance. Even with his bad ears from all the bullets whizzing past him, bombs going off within meters of him, and the usual shit show he did for a living he could hear the voice which bled through your phone's speaker.
"Get me a steak this time. Nonna that nasty shit from last time!"
You hurriedly turned your volume down as it blasted in your ear, startled by the voice. Chewing on your lip you pivoted towards the counter to see if your order had been brought out; the motion to no avail as the employee continued chopping away in the back room.
It was only when your other hand came into full view from the motion he noticed the absolute rock on your finger.
"Honey, I thought the salmon was pretty good." That prick clearly firing something back as you winced away from your phone once again. Gritting your teeth as if biting back your arguments, looking around to occupy your time as the man on the phone continues to speak. "I know... I'm sorry. Don't worry, it'll be ready by 7." You placatingly cooed.
"Listen, I have to go. I love y-" You began, but the moment the words tumbled from your lips you pulled the phone fully from your cheek to see a blank screen with the time staring back on you. The asshole hung up!
What a fuckin tosser.
Simon hears the butcher finally call your name with familiarity and with a sigh you step towards the counter. 
He leaned on to the wall further as he had been the entire time. Silent. Unsettling. A stark contrast to your bright appearance in the shop, the larger man brooded in his corner waiting his turn.
“See ya’ next Friday!” You still managed a bright smile at the butcher who handed you your meat.
A mild thing like you really shouldn’t be talked to so thoughtlessly, some guys are fuckwits though. He never liked the type. Why lock a bird down with a ring if you were gonna be mean to her?
“S’cuse me sir, i’m just gonna push past you here” You asked. With widened eyes, Simon gruffly mumbled a “Yeah,” out before creating a stupidly small space.
Maybe he really did want you to push past him. Or just push up on him but oh well.
Sweeping past him, you give him a toothy smile as you had so sweetly done to the butcher, as if you hadn’t got yelled at less than five minutes ago. God you really have no common sense, beaming up at the lurker in the corner at least twice your size. A girl as pretty as you should really stick to herself.
From that interaction on, Simon found himself being guided by the memory of you back to the butcher shop the next Friday.
And the next…
And the next.
Every week progressively standing closer and closer to you as you picked up your usual order. One day you had taken the liberty of starting small talk with him after recognizing his unmistakable stature. After all, there were only so many people you had seen in this shop and none so… large.
You could not deny you found this mystery man disquieting. Always dressed in dark colours, not so much as a word coming from him. Like clockwork you would come in after hot yoga, greet the butcher, he would come in, silence would ensue as you both waited for your meat, and you would leave with a quick smile.
It was rude. He had never even said a simple hello to you! Though, you suppose that it could be due to your own curt exits. The thought of the unkindness you might’ve exhibited subconsciously sent your mind into a spiral, leading to your abrupt introduction.
After all, who were you to judge! Kindness is and should always be the response in your books.
At this kindness, Simon swore he had to take a breath in as you politely outstretched your hand and spoke your name casually. Tilting his head down to your face he raises a brow skeptically, and then firmly shakes your head.
He failed to hide the shudder which wracked his body. The way your hand effortlessly slipped into his. Soft and manicured engulfed in his.
“Simon.”
“Well it’s good to meet you Simon” With the twinkly little smile you would grace him as you hauled it out of the shop. He felt the shiver go down his spine a second time when you spoke his name for the first time.
And then- it happened.
You giggled. A soft thing, no doubt intended to be small. It wasn’t to Simon though. It reverberated throughout the room, rang so prettily in his ears. Fuck. He would remember that sound later on tonight.
“Are you cold? You keep shivering. It’s pretty harsh out there right now.”
“Nah. Not really.” His accent thick as he shrugged.
Letting out a little “mhm” you nod and look back to the counter.
“I was freezing outside! Usually I walk home-” Simon already knew that “-but today I called my husband to come grab me! Way too cold!”
That visibly made him stiffen. Of course. Perfectly normal that guy is coming to get you, he’d be an idiot to leave you walking home alone in the cold.
If you were his girl, Simon wouldn’t have let you out of his sight. Fuck sakes you practically had “come mess with me” written all over you. There were creeps all over the place nowadays, (thought the creep).
He would’ve carried everything for you, scarfed down whatever the hell you had taken the time to prepare him. That husband of yours doesn’t like your salmon? Simon would. Hell if he didn’t, he’d cram it down his throat with gratitude anyways. He doubted anything could be worse than some of the rations he’s eaten on duty. 
That train of thought is pretty redundant when he takes note of how you wouldn’t be able to leave the bed to make anything.
Maybe you’d cram something of his down your throat in gratitude.
Shaking his head subtly, he hears the bells of the store door opening. He watched your face fall as you step away from him and it’s when he sees your husband's look of complete irritation he understands why.
You had grabbed your order swiftly and with a quick wave goodbye you were on your way back to your husband. Simon could only register your husband's whisper-yell as he disapprovingly glared his way. “The fuck are you doin talking to him?”. And with that you were hurriedly ushered out.
You deigned it necessary to continue greeting Simon, have little chats about the weather, any plans he had for the weekend. Tossing in your stupid jokes that he would laugh at. You interpreted it as something closer to a breathy snort-hopefully positive- and it went on as such for weeks
And every time he returned home Friday night, he came home with only one thought after. You.
As he laid in bed the same thought persisted as he slipped his cock out of his boxers, red and weeping for some sort of stimulation. He took to his usual harsh pace. You’d be so much softer.
You’d be so nice to him wouldn’t you? Coo some compliment as he lets you tug at him. Fuck he wouldn’t know what to take first.
Would you give him a blowie or a hand job? 
No. You wouldn’t be on your knees- not yet. If you’d let him have you, you’d be on your back in an instant. He’d rip the stitches of those leggings right down the middle, your panties next.
“Fuuuuuck” he moaned into the quiet of his room. He’d stick it in slow, he’d try. It would be torture not to ram himself right up to the hilt, but he’d do it for such a good girl.
That’s what you were, weren’t you? Always a nice word for someone? What would you say to him when he began to rut into you like a madman. When you would feel the pummeling intrusion, his head knocking into the deepest parts of you.
He’d be able bend you into so many different positions that you’d better hope that yoga has taught you well. Split your legs open to accommodate his imposing body size as he’d take purchase between them. Then you better hope your cunny can accommodate his other size when he spears you open on his cock.
Would you take it smiling? Would your tears roll down your cheeks, the prodding bordering too much? You’d take it either way, he knew you could. He’d rub at your clit with such tenderness he never afforded himself (as gentle as he could anyway). He’d make sure you begged to stay on his cock forever, fuck himself so deep you would be too stupid to pull away unknowing of where he ended and you started. Not that you’d have to care.
He’d flip you on to all fours and rip away your clothes entirely, pounding you from the back and instead of just his own labored breaths, the sound of skin slapping together would ring out.
In silent stoicism, he feels his balls tighten up at the thought of your perfect face stuffed into the pillows screaming your thank you’s. You probably were just as nice with someone stuffing themselves into your pussy.
At both his ruthless ministrations and boundless imagination, his release spurted all over his hand with a breathy sigh. When you were here he’d make sure to slam his hips to yours and keep them flush against you, coat your insides in hot cum better than your limp-dick husband ever could. That man wouldn’t be able to fuck you the way Simon knew he could. You deserve someone who could make you go stupid on his dick, not cry of frustration like you probably did everytime that knob who thinks himself a man rolled over after finishing himself off.
Not that you’ll have to worry about that soon
He wouldn’t be around for much longer anyways.
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kaiist · 18 days ago
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒
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𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑
The soft melody from his expensive royal-looking piano had drawn you in. Xavier was elsewhere in the living room, probably asleep. You couldn’t resist pressing a few keys, trying to recreate the tune he’d played yesterday. As you leaned over to reach a higher note, your sleeve caught on several keys, and with a sickening crack, they snapped loose.
Your hands flew to your mouth. Three keys hung at awkward angles, completely broken from their moorings. The room suddenly felt too small, your heart pounding as tears welled in your eyes.
You heard his footsteps before you saw him in the doorway. His eyes widened slightly at your tears.
“I’m so sorry,” you blurted. “I was just—I didn’t mean to—” You couldn’t finish the sentence as your voice cracked.
“Why are you crying?” he asked. He walk towards you, then knelt beside you, hands gentle as he took the broken piano keys from your trembling fingers.
“The piano...” you managed. “I broke it... I’ll pay for repairs, I promise...” you stammered, wiping at your eyes.
Xavier glanced at the damaged instrument, then back to you. A small smile formed at the corners of his mouth as he sat beside you.
“It was an accident,” he said simply, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb, his warm palm cupping your face. His touch lingered there, gentle and reassuring.
“But it’s your piano,” you insisted.
“The keys were already weak,” he replied with a slight shrug. “It’s already old, and I’ve been meaning to replace it.”
When you still looked uncertain, he added, “I don’t want you to be upset. Things break, and it’s okay.”
The way he said it—so matter-of-fact yet somehow gentle—made you feel like the broken piano truly was insignificant to him. In Xavier’s quiet, straightforward way, he’d made it clear that your distress concerned him far more than any damaged items.
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𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄
The hospital had called Zayne in for emergency surgeries three nights in a row. When you woke up early on his rare day off and found him already at his desk in the home office, surrounded by patient reports, you decided breakfast was in order.
You pushed the door open with your hip, balancing a tray with coffee and toast, just as Zayne reached for a folder. Your foot caught on the edge of his rug, and before you could regain balance, hot coffee splashed across his desk—directly onto the stack of patient reports he’d brought home. Dark liquid seeped into what looked like hours of meticulous work.
“I’m so sorry!” Your voice pitched higher with panic, ignoring the stinging pain on your palms. “Zayne, I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—” Your hands shook as you tried to salvage the papers, only smearing them further.
Zayne stood immediately, his chair rolling back. The stern lines of his face were there, but not directed at you.
“Stop,” he said firmly, holding your hands away, and taking the tray from your shaking hands and setting it aside before you dropped it too. “Leave the papers.”
Tears welled up despite your efforts. “Your reports, all your work... I just—I just ruined your day off... I’m really sorry…”
Zayne set the papers aside and surprised you by taking your warm hands in his, turning them over to examine your skin.
“Did you burn yourself?” he asked, his voice soft.
You shook your head.
“Good.” He guided you to sit in his chair. “These are just copies. I can print them again.”
“But—”
“No ‘but.’” His thumb stroked across your knuckles, a small gesture of affection that contrasted with his authoritative tone. “I keep digital backups of everything, so don’t worry. And don’t feel bad about an accident you couldn’t control.”
He leaned down, pressing a brief kiss to your forehead, then reached for his phone.
“The reports can wait. Let’s order some breakfast, and I’ll get us something to heal your palms.”
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𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋
The afternoon sunlight streamed through Rafayel’s studio windows, casting a golden glow across his workspace. You’d come to surprise him with lunch since he often forgot to eat when absorbed in his art.
As you walked between tables covered with half-finished projects, your bag caught on something. You turned to see a delicate sculpture teetering on its pedestal—a twisted form of glass and clay that Rafayel had spent weeks perfecting. Your heart stopped as it fell, shattering against the floor with a sound that seemed to echo forever.
“Oh…! No, no, no,” you whispered, dropping to your knees. Your fingers trembled as you tried to gather the larger pieces, tears blurring your vision.
“What happened? I heard—” Rafayel’s voice cut off as he entered the studio. You looked up, seeing his expression shift as he took in the scene.
“Rafayel, I’m so sorry,” your voice broke as you continued frantically collecting shards. “I can find someone who can repair it, or—”
“Hey, hey, stop!” He crossed the room quickly, kneeling beside you. “Leave it. You’ll cut yourself.”
When you continued reaching for a particularly sharp piece, he gently captured your hands.
“Your art…” you said, tears now falling freely. “I broke it...”
“It’s just clay and glass,” he said, pulling you away from the broken pieces and into his arms. “I can make another whenever I want.”
“But this one was special—”
“Not as special as you are to me.” Rafayel’s arms tightened around you as he rested his chin on top of your head. “You’re going to hurt yourself on these pieces,” he whispered. He rocked you gently until your breathing steadied, then pulled back to wipe your tears with his thumb.
“Besides,” he added casually, “now I have an excuse to try that new technique I’ve been thinking about. I’ve been wanting to replace that one with something new anyway. Do you wanna see, cutie?”
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𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒
The wind through your hair, the purr of the engine between your legs—there was nothing like late-night rides on Sylus’s custom motorcycle. He’d let you borrow it occasionally, knowing how much you loved the freedom it gave you.
The evening ride had been your idea. “Just around the perimeter,” you’d suggested, and Sylus had agreed because honestly—what wouldn’t he do for you?
You didn’t see the oil slick until the bike suddenly skidded, then tumbled, throwing you clear but scraping across the pavement with a horrible screech of metal on asphalt. Pain shot through your arm as you landed hard.
He swore he’d never been so scared before. He just ditched his motorcycle and was at your side in an instant, his typically composed face taut with an emotion you rarely saw—fear.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, kneeling beside you, hands hovering as if afraid to touch you. “Where does it hurt?”
“The motorcycle—” you managed, tears forming as you looked at the mangled vehicle. Half the custom bodywork was destroyed, the handlebars twisted beyond recognition. “I’m so sorry—I’ll pay—I’ll—”
“Forget the motorcycle,” he snapped, voice sharp but hands gentle as they examined your scraped arm. He was mad at himself for letting the situation even happen.
You’d never seen him this shaken—Sylus, who always had a plan, who always remained calm and controlled.
“I shouldn’t have—” he cut himself off with a sigh before carefully helping you sit up. His fingers brushed your face, wiping away tears and examining you for injuries with tenderness. “I’m just glad the feisty kitten is all okay.” Sylus’s expression shifted to relief, though concern still lined his eyes.
“I’m sorry it got wrecked…” you whispered again.
“I have others,” he said dismissively. “Stop thinking about it.”
When he helped you to your feet, he kept his arm firmly around you, as if afraid you might vanish if he let go. The destroyed motorcycle lay forgotten on the road behind you as he carried you away to his own.
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𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁
The storage room in Caleb’s work room was cluttered with mementos from his piloting days. You were searching for an old photo album when your elbow knocked against something on a high shelf.
You turned just in time to see the model spacecraft—the intricate replica of Caleb’s first fighter that you’d given him last year—tumble and crash onto the floor. Pieces scattered everywhere, the delicate wings and engines breaking apart on impact.
Panic seized your chest as you dropped to your knees. Caleb had spent two days putting it together; you remembered how his face lit up with boyish excitement when you’d presented it to him. Now it lay in ruins.
Frantically, you gathered pieces, trying to fit them back together, but your shaking hands only made things worse. You were so focused on your desperate repair attempt that you didn’t hear the door open.
“Hey, what are you doing in—” Caleb’s voice cut off abruptly.
You looked up to see him staring at the broken model, he looked surprised but his gaze softened when your eyes met, and tears welled in yours as you held broken pieces in your trembling hands.
“I’m sorry…” you whispered, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—”
Before you could say more, he was on the floor beside you, pulling you on his lap, into a tight embrace. His arms were firm around you.
“Hey, hey, hey… it’s okay. It’s just a model,” he murmured against your hair, his voice steady and reassuring.
“But you worked so hard on it...”
He pulled back slightly, brushing tears from your face with a gentle thumb. His smile alone radiates comfort as he looks at you.
“Then we’ll build a new one together,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And I bet we can make this one even better.” He looked down at the pieces scattered around you both. “Maybe add some modifications here and there, what do you think?”
His warm laughter finally broke through your guilt, and he held you close as if the broken model was the furthest thing from his mind.
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Based on this request.
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bunnis-monsters · 3 months ago
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The Dragon Prince, in need of a mate
Dragon Prince x Fem!Reader
summary: After a desperate search for his mate, the dragon prince leaves the celestial realm to drink away his sorrows, only to find the person he was looking for in a commoner. You.
warning: breeding, mating, lots of cum, scenting, he fucks you in his dragon form
WK: 10k words
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The sounds of heavy footsteps echoed down the palace halls, a growl leaving the throat of the celestial dragon prince.
It was tiring, looking for a bride every day. Not a single woman had been the right one for him… how would he ever be king without a mate?
It made him both angry and strangely… lonely at times. Everywhere he turned there seemed to be a happy couple. Noblemen and women lounged together, being fed grapes or massaged. Even when his eyes glanced towards the common folk, he would spot lovers holding hands or sharing a secretive kiss while serving the palace.
It was enough to drive a dragon to drink.
So while everyone celebrated in the palace after another boring day, the prince transformed into a more suitable appearance, taking on the form of a beautiful nobleman.
He assumed it would be enough to stay under the radar, unaware that his beauty and elegance would draw the attention of every maiden at the bar.
Leaving the celestial realm to dine among humans wasn’t exactly forbidden, but it was looked down upon for higher beings such as himself to dine amongst the common folk, hence the disguise.
Though, with his antler-like horns and claws, there was no doubt he was a being from the celestial realm.
As he walked through a quaint town, people stopped to stare, often with mouths agape.
He didn’t notice, eyes transfixed on the ground. All he could think of at the moment was finding something to drink his sorrows away.
In the distance, he saw the glow of warm lighting coming from a small tavern.
‘Perfect. Seems like a place the common folk gather. I should fit in well enough.’
Though he thought this, the second he walked in the bustling tavern grew quiet, all eyes on him. This wasn’t picked up by the prince, and he continued towards an empty table.
After getting comfortable, his mind began to wander. Life at the palace had been… stressful as of late.
He was used to the rumors, even used to people fearing and avoiding him. But what was unusual was his own insecurity in his heart.
Why hadn’t he found a mate yet? Part of him wandered if there was something inherently wrong with him. Although he hadn’t made much time to truly search out his soulmate, it shouldn’t have been so hard.
He was a prince… yet when he looked at the scars on his body that wouldn’t heal, he felt like a failure.
Weak.
As he sulked, he didn’t even notice that a glass of wine had been placed in front of him. What made his head snap up was the sound of a soft voice.
“Are you alright?”
He looked up, eyes wide as your smell hit his nose. That scent, the way it made his body react…
The woman before him was plump, your eyes giving him a soft and concerned look as you held the empty serving tray to your… ample chest.
It took him a moment to register your words. You glanced at him and then back at the bar, a nervous smile on you face.
You had never interacted with such a handsome man that was clearly of a higher class than yourself. Was it disrespectful to speak out of turn?
Your heart was kind and gentle, so you couldn’t help but speak up when he looked so down.
Once your words fully registered in his mind, he cleared his throat. This was all too much. For several months, nearly a year he had been halfheartedly searching for his mate, and here you were, in a random bar in the human realm.
His eyes moved from your face and down your body, taking in your features. Again, you were plump, with heavy looking breasts, a soft belly, and the outline of thick thighs and hips he could see through your dress.
A perfect mate.
The prince finally looked up, studying your face. Chubby cheeks, a soft smile, pretty eyes…
He had never put much thought into what his mate would look like, but now that he had seen you, he knew that this is all he could ever want.
“I’m alright… another glass, please.”
As you walked away with a flushed face, he downed his glass quickly to try and calm his racing heart. Gods, just the scent of you was enough to have him struggling to control himself.
“Here you are…”
You placed another glass in front of him, smiling shyly as he took it. He was handsome, regal and nearly lit up the room with his beauty. Everyone could tell he was not of this world, and you felt beyond honored to be the one who got to serve such a special man.
But in his mind his thoughts were far from graceful. His eyes didn’t leave your figure, continuing to glance at your hips and soft belly. Both features were absolutely perfect for breeding purposes…
“My dear, what is your name?”
You blinked, taking a moment to process his question. In all honesty you had been completely distracted by his beauty that you zoned out. This was so embarrassing, your cheeks heating up as you struggled to answer.
“M-my name? Oh it’s (Name)!” you babbled out, covering your mouth afterwards. Oh no, you probably sounded way too eager!
He just smirked, taking your hand and placing a kiss on the back of it. “(Name)? That’s lovely… (Name).”
Your name being said by such a handsome man had your body feeling hot. This man was looking up at you with an air of confidence that had you flustered, your eyes unable to look into his.
Was it disrespectful to not answer? He was most likely a noble…
“Th… thank you, sir. It’s just a common name, I’d say.”
He reached out and cupped your cheek, his large palm warm against your face. “Perhaps, but it’s a name I will never forget.”
Your cheeks flushed at this, and you looked up at him through your eyelashes. That alone was enough to have his pants tighten.
The two of you exchanged longing glances throughout the night, and when your shift was ending, he stopped you before you could leave.
The dragon prince stood, his full height dwarfing you completely. “Come. Let us find somewhere quiet.”
Though you had always been warned by the tavern owner to never follow a guest outside, you were transfixed by his confident smile and intelligent eyes.
As he led you outside, his form seemed to almost… shift slightly. Though he still appeared mostly human, his horns grew longer and teeth sharper.
The moon shone down on them, their breaths coming out in white puffs. It was cold enough for you to shiver, but soon you were warmed by his embrace.
“It’s quite chilly at this time of night, is it not? Stay by my side.”
He led you through the night, the only light that of the shining moon. When it was covered by clouds, he still had no issue guiding you around uneven terrain and the occasional tree root.
It was then you realized there was no way he was human. You had your suspicions before, but it wasn’t uncommon for some human mages to take on animal features to help them with their magic endeavors.
This man, however, was no mage or lowly magical creature. You could tell by the way the moonlight enveloped his body, making him glow in the dark of night.
“What are your plans for me?”
Your voice was shaky, but you felt no fear. The trembling came from a sense of excitement and lust.
And he could smell how wet you were.
He didn’t answer immediately, instead lifting you over a puddle of water and setting you down on the other side.
The dragon prince paused after this, cupping your cheek as he took in your curious expression.
“I will take you on as a mate. From the moment I saw you, it was clear you were the one I have been looking for.”
He cleared his throat before he continued.
“I am the current celestial dragon prince. You will love a life of luxury and never be without…”
It was hard for him to speak when he could smell your arousal growing thick in the air, his own scent mixing in. “… will you be mine?”
Your body felt so warm, you wanted so badly to say yes…
But it didn’t feel real. He was bound to you of all people? You were a lowly tavern barmaid, born into a life of poverty. Nothing about you was inherently special and it was hard to comprehend anyone as beautiful as him wanting to spend his eternal life with you.
“You… are joking, right? Did you drink too much?”
The words coming out of your mouth felt wrong. You could feel the sexual tension in the air, yet your mind wouldn’t listen to your body’s natural instincts.
“I do not joke about things as serious as this, my love. I am your mate, we are tied together by fate.”
He lifted your hand, kissing the back of it.
“How can I prove to you that I am serious?”
Before you could answer his form began to shift again, his hands becoming claws. It was getting even harder to hold back, and you were soon lifted into his arms.
“I can’t… hold back anymore… since I realized you were my mate, I’ve been dying to taste you.”
The world became blurry, your body growing hot and your head woozy as everything faded and shifted. Next thing you knew, the two of you were in an intricately decorated room.
You were set onto the softest bed you had ever felt, given no time to take in your surroundings.
He was already opening your thighs, sniffing at your clothed cunt. A groan left his lips, his long black hair tickling your sensitive thighs as he dipped his head between them.
“Gods, you smell delicious. Please… I must taste you.”
You swallowed when his nose rubbed against your inner thigh. The way he was looking up at you had your heart thumb ping rapidly in your chest.
“A-alright…”
Within seconds of your consent his claws ripped through your underwear and his face was buried between your thighs.
His tongue swirled around your clit, and all you could do was moan and hold onto his horns for support.
He grabbed hold of your hips, squeezing the soft fat and pulling you closer. Your pussy had already been drooling with need, and now you felt your arousal dripping down your thighs, his chin covered in your slick.
It was erotic, the sound of his grunts and groans filling the air with each lap of his tongue. You tasted divine, and he was losing himself in you.
Nothing else besides you mattered in this moment. All he could think of was how good it felt to have your thighs squeezing around his head. The moans you let out had his cock twitching incessantly, and he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer.
“Gods…”
He pulled back, looking at the wet mess your fat pussy had become. Your eyes were glazed over, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath.
How many times have you orgasmed so far? You felt almost selfish, already wanting more from him after he just pleasured you.
“My sweet little mate, how do you feel now? My precious, you’re glowing.”
He almost purred when he leaned forward, breathing softly against your neck. You let out a content sigh, reaching up to play with his long black hair.
“Mmm… I’m feeling pretty tired, I’d say… I’ve been working since noon.”
He stiffened a bit at that, resting his chin on your head. The prince did not enjoy thinking about you working so hard. Even though he had only known you for a few hours, you were his mate.
“Well, my dove, do not worry your pretty little head anymore. You will work another day in your life. From now on, you will be pampered and taken care of… I guarantee it.”
Despite how his cock ached to be inside of you, he decided to wait until you were rested to properly mate with you. It would take more energy and leave you exhausted…
You fell asleep in his arms, feeling so warm and safe. How long had it been since you had been held? That last time you could remember was your childhood, when you were just a tiny thing.
He made you feel small, protected, and… so, so warm.
In the morning you awoke, stretching with a yawn as you sleepily stood to get ready for your job. It was strange, when you reached for your apron on your nightstand, you couldn’t find it.
That’s when you remembered the previous night.
Your face warmed immediately, and you barely held back an embarrassed squeal when you noticed the man groan tiredly, his face buried in your chest.
“Go back to sleep, love…”
It was too early in the morning for you to protest, and you haven't slept in since you were a child. It felt nice, getting to fall back asleep in his arms, his hair tickling your cheek.
You listened to his breathing, smiling sleepily. His sharp claws slowly ran through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp to lull you back into slumber.
The next time you woke up it was nearly noon. This was beyond embarrassing, even as a child you had only slept in this much when you were deathly ill. The prince still attempted to get you to stay in bed longer, but when you protested he huffed.
“Alright, alright… stubborn little thing, aren’t you?”
He snapped his fingers, servant girls appearing at your side immediately.
“Your highness,” they greeted, bowing before your bedmate. The prince waved a hand dismissively, rubbing his temple.
“Take my mate and get her a bath and some fresh clothes. Treat her well, she is your future empress after all.”
The servant girls bowed again, raising their hands. “Yes, at once.”
They led you away, and you could only look back pathetically as he lounged in bed, watching you go with a smirk. Your plump rear was certainly a nice sight, and your hips swayed deliciously while you were guided away.
He couldn’t wait to feel how warm your cunt was when he sank into you that night.
As you were led down the halls and into the bathhouse, you saw female royals and nobles alike being pampered by the servants. They were fed grapes, massaged, and even dressed.
You weren’t even sure if they had ever lifted a hand to take care of themselves your entire life. It left you feeling sour. Every day had been a struggle to even put food on the table, much less properly take care of yourself, and here these women were completely pampered to the point their skin glowed.
In all honesty you had never seen yourself as anything special, but before you at least thought you could marry someone with a bit of wealth and settle down peacefully.
After seeing the beauties of the castle, you were left feeling… insecure. How could you ever compete with these gorgeous women?
Without much warning you were stripped down to your birthday suit. The servants weren’t rough, but they weren’t exactly gentle either as they helped you into the bath and scrubbed at your skin.
“Filthy, and you slept in the same bed as the prince. Have you no shame, human?”
You flinched as their nails dug lightly into your scalp. It was painful, but you dared not to make a sound.
“And those rags you wore… just disrespectful, I’ll say.”
Unfortunately, you agreed wholeheartedly, and wondered why such an elegant and noble person such as him dared to even touch you. After all, you had the entire day’s sweat and dirt decorating your skin and clothes.
Unbeknownst to you, the fact that you had been sweaty and strongly scented played a big part in his list for you. A mate was meant to smell like themselves, and to him you smelled absolutely divine.
You looked away in shame as you were rinsed off. Although you felt rather uncomfortable, the floral scent of the soaps and the quality didn’t go unnoticed by you. Never before had you had access to such luxurious toiletries. It was rare for you to have scented soap, but this moisturized your skin and made you feel like a brand new person.
“Worry not, we are well aware of the prince’s mating bond with you. Be you royalty or common folk, we will ensure you will look the part of a princess.”
With that, you were quickly dried off and moved along towards a dressing room.
As you waited in a small room, being told to water yourself, you could hear voices speaking softly nearby.
“Truly, one could even feel sorry for a common girl marrying that insane prince.”
“Oh, dear heavens, do not let any of the celestial royalty hear such things.”
“But I am not wrong, am I? I worry he will simply dispose of her when he is done. Even the humans know that the celestial beings here can do with them as they please and no one will bat an eye.”
You stayed quiet, simply staying near the warm hearth as you continued to dry off slowly. Of course you had heard rumors of the infamous deities residing within the celestial realm.
None of those rumors were good.
Despite feeling a bit nervous, you shook off their words. Even if you were to be tossed aside, you wanted to spend at least one day feeling beautiful and… loved.
If what this was could even qualify as love.
He had called you his mate, did celestial beings mate for life? You were human, it was something hard for your mortal mind to comprehend.
A mate… like a soulmate perhaps? Did that mean he thought the two of you were destined for one another?
Could that mean that none of this was natural, that you were bound together without much choice?
What if he was desperate for a mate and didn’t truly love you?
These thoughts swirled around your head as you were brought into the dressing room.
Before you, rows upon rows of dresses and different types of clothing you had never seen before hung on racks. A few servant girls were already waiting in front of a mirror, holding measuring tape.
“Stand here while we take your measurements.”
You held out your arms, cheeks hot as your naked body was put on display for various women. Their expressions were neutral, and they simply figured out what size you were before running off to fetch various clothing items.
This only added on to your stress.
“Your own personal wardrobe will be prepared shortly, but as the seamstresses are working, you will wear pre-prepared dresses.”
You were dressed in something elegant and flowy, a light blue and white in color. It was something you had never worn before, the fabric soft yet thick and warm.
“With a bit of work, you will be ready for the banquet tonight. For now, the prince is requesting your presence at his bedside once more.”
A servant girl led you way, and you heard the others discussing how to prepare your hair and makeup later in the evening.
You were not looking forward to that.
You were led back to the room you woke up in. The smell of incense wafted from under the door, the lavender and vanilla scent making you relax.
“Come in,” the prince called out after the servant girl knocked. After being ushered in, you slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room and opened your eyes.
He was laid out in the bed, taking in your new look with eager eyes. “Mmm… you clean up nicely, though I preferred your scent before.”
The prince gestured for you to join him in bed, and you quickly scurried to his side, shyly climbing in next to him. “What’s the reason for all this timid behavior? My tongue was buried deep inside of you last night, was it not? There’s nothing to be shy about.”
Your cheeks heated up once again, and you avoided his gaze. “S-saying things like that… isn’t it a bit inappropriate for a p… prince? Won’t they-“
He laughed, grabbing your chin and turning you to face him. “And you think a prince would care who hears him speaking to his mate as he pleases? You are mine, how I talk to you is no one’s business.”
The way he spoke made a shiver go down your spine. He was so confident… and you?
You were the daughter of a simple tavern owner, having no prospects other than hopefully marrying a decent man that would take good care of you.
Though you could feel your body yearning to be near him, almost instinctively drawing closer, you thought it was… strange.
Was the only thing connecting you to this beautiful man instinct? Though you ached when he looked your way, you couldn’t help but feel empty.
What other reason than being forced by fate would a man like him choose to be by your side?
You softened when the pads of his fingertips slowly slid down your side. He was gentle with you, though you had the feeling he wasn’t always like this.
“Come closer, I wish to hold you.”
Slowly you climbed to his side, melting into his touch when he cupped your chubby cheek.
The servant girls called him insane before, insinuating he was cruel and beastly.
But could someone with a touch this gentle truly hurt you?
“You look lovely. Perfect, I’d say,” he mumbled, burying his nose into your hair. You held onto his sleeve, feeling his horns lightly rub against you.
“… you call me lovely, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more handsome man than you.”
He chuckled, his chest tumbling pleasantly. “Am I? Darling, you’re going to make me blush.”
You could tell he was lightly teasing you, which led you to letting out an involuntary huff. This made the dragon prince’s laugh increase in volume.
“Oh? My little mate is pouting now? How cute.”
He tilted your chin up, taking in the way your chubby cheeks puffed out lightly, and how your lips pursed.
“Ahh, you’re going to be the end of me, darling. I can hardly control myself when you’re looking at me like that,” he purred, his voice almost a growl.
Before he could continue his teasing, there was another knock at the door. His demeanor shifted from relaxed and amused to irritated in seconds.
“Who dares to interrupt my time with my precious mate?”
You rested your head against his chest as a woman entered. She certainly was no servant girl, you could tell by the silk and thick wool she wore.
“Mother…”
He held you close, wrapping his arms around your body and tucking your head under his chin. It was almost like an animal protecting its young from a vicious predator.
The woman before you had icy blue eyes, dark hair, and pale skin. It was almost like she was looking into your soul, judging you from within.
Though she looked so different from the prince, he called her his mother…
“You are to report to your father within the hour with your… so called mate. He will be the judge on if this is an actual mating bond this time. You should hope it is, to save yourself the embarrassment.”
With one last look that could freeze hell itself, she turned away, a servant girl shutting the door for her.
You looked up to ask the prince about the woman from before, but he looked distant and cold himself. He stared at your soft body, caressing your cheek and keeping you close to his chest.
“… worry not about that hag, my love. She is not my true mother, simply a woman the emperor, my father has married.”
Though he told you not to worry, the way he held you was enough to have you tense.
The prince held you as if letting you go could only invite trouble… and you knew that woman was the reason for his uneasiness.
Walking with him through the halls made you feel like a princess. People bowed as you passed by, but you noticed others retreated out of fear. Though he kept up a cold facade, you could feel his grip tighten on your hand each time a servant or royal scurried away.
Her presence definitely had a profound effect on him.
He stopped before a massive door, so big it could easily crush you if it were to fall forward. Carved into the dark oak were images of what you could only assume was the banquet of the Chinese zodiac.
They danced and feasted all over the door, and in the center was a dragon watching over them all. The eyes of the dragon were encrusted with sparkling red jewels, and it almost felt like they followed your every movement.
The doors opened, relieving you of the dragon’s intense stare… only for you to come face to face with a real one.
“Father,” the prince acknowledged the dragon, bowing low before you blinked rapidly.
“F-father!?”
The dragon before you was easily the size of the tavern you worked at, if bigger. It sat on a (most likely) custom made thrown, glaring down at your with red eyes that matched the one from the door.
“Ah, your mate already sees me as a father. How cute.”
You stiffened as the dragon stood, causing the palace to shake. Everywhere you turned, people either continued on or stood politely nearby, completely… calm!?
So, trying to fit in, you bit the inside of your cheek and looked up, meeting his eye. You reached out your hand as he approached.
“It’s good to meet you, y-your highness. My name is (Name).”
The prince gave you an amused, incredulous look from the corner of his eye, but you could see the way the corner of his mouth twitched in panic.
The floor shook with the emperor’s laughter, his tail lashing behind him and knocking over a potted plant.
“My son, your supposed mate is quite funny. She offers me her hand like a commoner would, not surprising considering her upbringing.”
Though his words sounded rude, there was no malice behind it. He reached out one of his claws, and you shook it.
It took you a moment to register the cool feeling of his claw turning into the warmth of a human hand. He had shifted into a more humanoid form… and a handsome one at that.
Though he was older and taller, you could tell the resemblance to the prince. He was definitely his father, there was no doubting that.
“I assume this form may be less threatening to a human such as yourself. It may not seem like it, but I take no pleasure in frightening those who may become my family.”
His touch was firm, but not rough. The emperor moved away from you just as the prince’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his chest.
“Ah, my apologies, son. She’s yours, isn’t she?”
The prince’s appearance had changed slightly, his dragon features becoming more prominent. Dark scales appeared along his face and arms, his horns growing in size to the point they looked too heavy for his head.
It was clear he was incredibly protective of you, disliking his father being too friendly with his mate. It made you feel quite happy, seeing how worked up he got over a perceived threat.
Your fingertips lights caressed his cheek, and slowly he calmed down. His scales flattened out into smooth skin again, and he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“It’s alright,” you murmured, kissing his cheek. “Don’t fuss, everything will be okay.”
Something about you soothed his soul in a way no one else could. To anyone watching, it was obvious that you were his soulmate.
“It seems you have finally found the one, my son.”
Your hand suddenly grew hot, and you yelped as you held your hand up to see what was causing the sudden pain.
There was now a ring on your ring finger, the color of the stone the same as the prince’s eyes. On his hand was a matching band, encrusted with jewels that matched your eyes.
“I have recognized your mating bond as being valid. The wedding shall take place when the moon is full once more.”
The prince squeezed your hand, his thumb running over your new ring possessively. You could tell by the way he sniffed at you that he was eager to get you back to his bedroom.
Though part of you was thrilled to be tied to someone that made your heart flutter inside your chest… insecurities still lingered in your mind.
Did he truly love you? You’d only known him for 24 hours, there was no way he could… it all had to be because of your mating bond…
Right..?
Almost as if sensing your unease, the emperor chuckled. “My son, it seems you and your mate are eager to consummate this mating bond. Perhaps it’s time to show her your feelings.”
With that, he gave a nod to one of the deities lounging about nearby. “Begin preparations for the wedding… and tell everyone that interrupting the future emperor and empress tonight will bring severe punishments.”
The two of you were dismissed with a wave of the emperor’s hand, and your lover was quick to gather you in his arms and carry you back to his room.
“Father may be intimidating and married to the most evil bitch alive, but at least he can understand that the newly tied need privacy.”
You whimpered when his face nuzzled against your neck, your heart beating faster as he inhaled your scent.
“Gods… I’ll be mating with you before the banquet, I cannot hold back any longer…”
The second the door to his room was closed, his lips smashed into yours. He was desperate for you, his hands roaming your plump hips and holding on tightly.
“Your scent has been driving me insane… I need you, darling…”
You let out a whimper as he lowered you onto the bed, your thighs trembling lightly at the memory of last night. Pleasures unimaginable had been given to you, and you were sure that it would only get better now.
But…
“… are you sure this is what you want?”
His lips paused on your neck, his hands moving from your hips to your face. He held onto your chin, tilting it up to meet his face. “… what do you mean, my love? Of course I want you, we’re mates-“
“Is that the only reason!?”
His eyes widened when you raised your voice, the tension in the air so thick you could cut it with a knife. The past day you had been doubting his love for you, seeing it as only instinctual…
“(Name)… you don’t understand how much I adore you.”
You melted as he kisses your eyelids, his touch tender and affectionate. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one. Mating bonds are important, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you outside of it. You’re kind, you make me smile and feel like…”
He sighed, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Let me show you something.”
The prince pulled back, and you felt your body ache when his warmth faded from your skin. He slowly disrobed, letting the expensive fabric fall to the ground.
His torso was littered with scars, long and jagged, all seemed to be caused by fighting. The prince didn’t meet your eye as he spoke.
“Most celestial deities heal wounds like these easily, but try as I might, these scars do not seem to heal. It is because… I am weak.”
He hung his head in shame, hair falling to hide his face. “How can I even think of taking care of a mate when I can’t even protect you? I’m-
You reached out and grabbed his hand before he continued. You placed your fingertips over one of his scars, shaking your head.
“Don’t say that…”
It was quiet, your touch soothing on his scarred skin. He shuddered as your traces each wound, every movement of your fingers tender and full of love.
“Having scars doesn’t make you weak, not at all… it shows you’ve survived so much… it’s evidence of how strong you are.”
The prince did not say anything, simply wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. All he could have ever wanted was his mate to accept him as he was, completely.
You truly were meant to be his.
“I need you, (Name), my love… my body burns with desire every time you touch me.”
He had waited long enough. Being so close to you had caused him to slowly enter an almost rut like state. If he couldn’t mate with you soon, he’d go crazy.
“Then I want you to have me… I need to be yours…” you said, leaning into his touch. His chest tumbled at your words, the scales from before coming back. This time it wasn’t out of anger, no, he was very pleased.
“As you wish, my love. I will make you mine entirely, just give me your trust and I will give you my heart.”
This time you initiated the kiss, much to his delight. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in.
A battle for dominance began, your tongues fighting but you gave in quickly. He was strong, and you wanted him to ravish you. You were giving yourself to him.
He was quick to shred through your clothes. The displeasure of such a nice dress going to waste only lasted for a second before you melted into his arms.
“Divine, just gorgeous…” he murmured, groping one of your breasts. “You’re truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen…”
He lightly tugged at one of your nipples, the other one sucked on lightly. His tongue swirled around the perky bud, his free hand moving downwards, towards your clothed cunt.
For a minute he rubbed you through your underwear, lightly circling your clit. His ear twitched when you let out a breathy moan, your hips bucking lightly into his hand.
His cock twitched, already erect and desperate to be inside of you. But he was a gentleman, and couldn’t bear the thought of potentially hurting his mate.
So he was gentle, removing your soaked underwear and prodding at your needy hole. “Look at that, someone is excited…”
“Says you…” you managed to get out between moans, feeling his fingers curl up and hit the perfect spot inside of you. “You’re spilling precum all over my thighs…”
He grinned, enjoying your back and forth banter. “Oh? Then perhaps it’s time to get on with it. After all…”
His head pushed against your cunt, eliciting a moan from both of you. “I don’t want to waste a single drop of my seed… it all needs to be inside of my mate…”
And then he penetrated you. At first it hurt, the stretch feeling uncomfortable, like you were being pulled apart. You’d never seen a human man naked, but you assumed he was bigger than average.
If you had to guess, you’d say he was around 8-9 inches long, and girty too. Taking him wasn’t easy, and he hated seeing tears well up in your eyes because of him.
Being inside of you felt heavenly. You were warm and tight, and he could cum just from being fully sheathed in your fat cunt… but he felt terrible for feeling so much pleasure while you were in pain.
“It’s going to be alright, sweetheart…” he murmured, one of his claws caressing your hips. “I’m going to be gentle, this pain won’t last for long…”
He peppered kisses along your neck, waiting patiently for you to calm down and for the pain to ease. The prince was well aware of the size difference between you and him, and that if he wasn’t careful during mating, his form could shift and grow larger, potentially harming you.
He was right, soon the pain began to ebb away, dulling until all you could feel was pleasure washing over your body. His cock twitched inside of you, and you arched your back.
“Ready?”
You nodded, your chest rising and falling as your breathing picked up. He could feel how wet you were, and began to move slowly.
The moan the movements of his lips elicited from you caused him to groan, his eyes flicking to your flustered face.
“M-more… please?”
Though there was part of him that wanted to make you beg and plead for more, he wanted to fuck you too much to pause and wait. They had all of the time in the world to make love, but right now he needed you desperately.
His hips slapped against yours as he picked up the pace, claws gripping so tightly that you could feel them piercing your skin.
But that light pain paled in comparison to the intense pleasure you felt as your velvety walls clenched around him in your first orgasm of the night.
“So good… so fucking good…”
He groaned into your neck, breathing your scent mixed in with the smell of sex in the air. The prince could have gotten drunk off of that alone.
Your head soon grew fuzzy with pleasure, and all you could think of was how good it felt to be absolutely ravished by your mate.
All thoughts of gentleness were thrown out the window as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder so he could push deeper inside. He watched as he cock moved in and out, covered in your slick…
When he came, you felt yourself being stretched, his cock swelling inside of you. So much cum was stuffed into your womb, your tummy full of his seed.
Something about being filled with your mate’s cum felt… right. Like it was the natural thing to do, he needed to stuff you full of his seed like a good mate should…
He stayed inside for a while, rutting against you even as he continued to cum. He didn’t want to leave your warmth…
But despite that, he was nowhere near satisfied… but despite your whines, he pulled out a moment later.
“… gods… don’t fret, my love… we can continue after dinner. Trust me, you’ll need your energy for tonight.”
He gave your clit one last teasing flick before pulling your soaked panties back over your cunt.
“Ah, my love… you’ll need another bath. I’ll fetch the-“
You held onto his hand, shaking your head. “I wanna… take a bath with you…”
In reality you didn’t want to be with those gossiping women again. The things they said about the prince upset you, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to hold your tongue this time.
Even if some of the rumors might be true, your mate wasn’t some monster. He was kind to you, he yearned for acceptance in a world that deemed him weak for having scars.
“A bath with me, hmm? Can’t get enough of me can you?”
Though he was teasing you, it was clear the fact you wanted to stay near him brought the prince endless joy. “It seems my puppy knows where her home is already.”
This made you pout, and he cooed over you. “Oh, don’t make that face, I’m joking.”
With that he lifted you up, kissing your forehead. “Of course you can bathe with me. I’d rather not have anyone else see you covered in my seed anyways.”
You let him rinse you off, his hands lingering on your messy cunt as his cock fucked your thighs. You were both still feeling needy, wanting to fuck like rabbits, but were holding back.
It wasn’t easy, and you felt your cheeks grow warm over how much a whore you’d become in 24 hours. All you could think of was him sinking his cock inside of you again…
“Mmm…” he purred against your neck, rubbing the washcloth over your tits as his cock stayed nestled between your thighs. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to your body…”
He gently squished your soft belly, playing with your warm and malleable fat. “So squishy, I love it so much…”
From one look around the palace you noticed most of the women were quite thin, so it was safe to assume he really had never been in the arms of a woman like you.
You were chubby, with thick thighs and an ample bosom. To just commoners, you were seen as a fertile woman that could handle childbirth without any problems.
And it seemed his dragon side went completely feral at that thought.
The two of you cuddled as you waited for the servant girls to bring your fitted dresses. There was a fluffy robe for each of you waiting on the freshly cleaned bed after your bath.
This was what being rich probably felt like. Being waited on hand and foot, not even having to tell someone to clean your cum and sweat soaked sheets.
With an embarrassed squee, you made a mental note to thank the women that had to clean that up later. It couldn’t have been an easy task.
A knock on the door caused you to look up. The servant girl from before bowed, walking in and offering her hand.
“I can dress you n-“
The prince pulled you back into his lap, growling lowly as his scales popped up all over his body. Even his face looked more reptilian than human.
“Don’t you dare touch her without my permission.”
You blinked in surprise, glancing up at him and raising an eyebrow. He seemed almost feral, and you could feel him rubbing against you, trying to make sure you were covered in his scent.
The servant girl was on the floor, trembling and holding her arms up to defend herself, which caused your mate to ease up. You could tell he felt guilty for lashing out at a defenseless woman, but he was on edge knowing you’d be seeing his stepmother again at dinner.
“… I apologize, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
His grip loosened on you, allowing you to feel all forward and help the woman up. “Get her dressed… then take the day off.”
You glanced back at him as the servant girl dressed yiu with shaking hands. It was clear he felt terrible despite the cold facade he had up. You knew you mate well, already able to tell when he was upset.
“My love…”
He perked up when you were fully dressed, your hair and makeup done to perfection. The prince’s tail slapped against the floor, his cheeks flushed a light pink.
“You’re gorgeous…”
When he realized how lovestruck he looked, the prince cleared his throat. His signature cocky smirk overtook his face once more, and he offered his arm to you. “May I escort you to the banquet, my princess?”
You gave him a fond smile, taking his arm. “It would be an honor, my prince.”
He escorted you to the banquet, barely holding back from grabbing your ass as his hand slipped to your lower back. You just smelled way too fragrant, making his cock twitch in his pants as he imagined being inside of you again.
“Welcome.”
The prince froze in place, his hand pausing on the small of your back as he met eyes with his father’s wife.
“Mother. Thank you for putting this together…” he said, his tail slowly wrapping around your lower half and pulling you close. It seemed his dragon features became more prominent when he wanted to protect you…
“I hope your little… mate knows proper etiquette. She will not embarrass me at this banquet. Having a commoner, a mere human peasant as a mate is already humiliating enough, so make sure you keep her in check.”
Your smile faltered, an uncomfortable silence falling over the two of you.
The prince’s jaw tensed up. “… don’t speak of her as if she is not here. Whether you like it or not, she’s my mate and I love her.”
Her face became even colder, her eyes narrowing. “You should watch who you’re talking to. I’m the empress, y-“
“And? (Name) will soon be the empress herself, so have some damn respect!”
His stepmother drew back, clutching her pearls. “I hope you know your father will hear about this!”
With that, she turned on her heels and left. You glanced at him, holding onto his sleeve. “… why does she treat you like that? You don’t deserve it…”
He huffed, crossing his arms. “It’s because I’m the son of a concubine. She hasn’t been able to birth a son for my father, meaning none of her children will be able to take the throne. It’s pathetic, and I’m not afraid of her anymore.”
He pulled out your chair for you, smiling fondly. “When I was a child, she used to terrorize me… but I have someone I need to protect now. I don’t have time to be afraid of some old hag.”
Before you could sit, he took your seat and pulled you into his lap. “Maybe it’s better if you stay close. She can be pretty vindictive. And…”
You felt his bulge rub lightly against you.
“We should have some fun at our own banquet, shouldn’t we?”
The table was filled with various foods, some you had never seen before, but everything smelled absolutely delicious.
There were deities taking seats all around you, some glancing your way but quickly turning when the prince bared his fangs. Not a single person dared to challenge him, not when his protectiveness was high due to mating with you for the first time.
The emperor and empress entered the banquet hall, and everyone stood besides you and the prince. He kept you seated on his lap, lightly moving your hips along his clothed erection.
The two took their seats, and the emperor waved his hand, causing everyone to sit as well.
“As you all know by now, you've all been gathered here to celebrate my son’s success in finding his mate. Now that he has one, the throne shall be passed down to him after the wedding.”
Whispers broke out among the dinner guests, some upset and others curious. You wanted to hide away, having everyone’s eyes on you made your heart race.
“Silence.”
Not a single peep could be heard when the emperor’s voice rang out in the banquet hall, echoing off the walls.
“I heard my son was disrespectful towards the empress. Was that right, my son?”
The empress stared down at the happy couple, her lip twitching into a sinister smile. The prince gave his father a nod.
“She bad mouthed my mate. If you were in my shoes, you would have done the same thing.”
Before the empress could retort, the emperor held up his hand. “I see. I hope my family can get along in the future. After all, my son will soon be the emperor.”
His eyes shifted towards the empress. “Some of you would do well to remember that soon, he will be the one in charge.”
The empress quietly seethed after that, and the banquet continued without a hitch. As you ate, he rubbed at your belly, his fingers occasionally brushing against your crotch.
He was an absolute horndog, needing you like a man dying of thirst needs water.
“We’ll be taking our leave now,” your mate announced once you both had your fill. He did nothing to hide his erection, lifting you into his arms.
“I hope you keep your promise to make sure no one bothers us, father.”
The emperor simply chuckled, waving the two of you away. “Go on, you won’t be disturbed.”
With every step he took towards your shared bedchambers, the prince became more beastly. It seemed it was hard to keep his human form when he was this needy for you.
The second you were both behind closed doors, his cock was already out of his pants and rubbing against your back, his hands trembling with excitement as he lifted your dress to stare at your drooling cunt.
“You need me, don’t you princess?”
His fingers dragged along your wetness, gathering up your slick before bringing it to his mouth. “I could taste you for hours…”
You felt his fingers pump in and out of you, and this time he wasn’t as gentle. He bit down on your thigh, leaving a few hickeys and bite marks along your soft flesh.
Anyone that saw you would know you were his, the prince would make sure of that.
Your brain was already starting to turn to mush, you weren’t sure if you’d be completely luciduribg this. It just felt so good, he was an expert at this.
His long, textured tongue lapped at your folds. It was almost like a cat’s tongue, just less rough, and it was replacing his fingers. That’s how long it was.
He tongue fucked you, his hands squeezing your thighs as he drew out your moans and cries, lightly smacking your ass when you squirmed. It was a gentle warning to stay still…
The prince wanted to enjoy his meal.
You came around his tongue, clenching as your hips bucked wildly upwards, and only then did he draw back and give you a lust filled look.
That’s when he slowly pushed his cock into you, the familiar feeling of you warmth making him melt against you. Nothing else had ever made him feel so at home, he only got this feeling when he was buried inside of your cunt. This was where he was supposed to plant his seed, and he had to breed you.
He rammed into you, moving his lips to your neck to suck and bite at you as he pounded your poor pussy.
But after a moment, he pulled out, his hand on your belly as he panted softly. The way you whimpered and begged for him to continue was endearing, but he had other things in mind.
“You’re mine… and I just can’t hold back anymore…”
His form frew, his cock nearly doubling inside as he became the closest to a dragon yet. Dark scales covered his body, massive arms at eaither of your sides keeping you caged underneath him. His scaly underbelly brushed against you,
Though his cock was intimidatingly big and would stretch you out to your limit, he knew he could fit it inside of you.
It throbbed, laying against your belly as he leaned forward to nudge his dragon head against your face in an affectionate and possessive display.
Though for a moment you felt fear seeing such a beast hovering over you, his eyes met yours and you relaxed. This was still the prince… and you loved him even in this form. Not despite it, no, you adored his smooth black scales that felt like cool river rocks and the warmth of his belly.
“I need you…” he murmured, his chest rumbling with a purr. “If… you don’t want this, I’ll-“
You lifted your hips, letting the top lip of his cock rub against your folds. He let out a growl, his hips snapping forward, and you felt him pushing in.
Even though the stretch felt like your virginity was being taken for a second time, you kissed his snout. “O want this…”
With your confirmation, he sunk fully in, giving you a moment to adjust before he began to move.
Moans and whimpers echoed through the room as your lover fucked you stupid. With each slap of his hips against yours, you saw stars.
Your tummy bulged with his cock, his claw running over the imprint. “You’re taking me so well, such a good little mate…”
His balls tightened, and he roared as he came inside of you for the first time that night. Hot, thick ropes of sticky cum shot inside of you, filling your womb and making your belly feel hot.
But he wasn’t done with you, not even close.
The prince turned you on your back, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he mounted you, pounding your pussy at an animalistic pace. Your cunt clenched around him so perfectly, the fat flesh on your ass rippling with each powerful thrust.
A clawed hand reached between your legs, carefully rubbing at your clit. He loved the way you came around his cock, how you cried out for more even as you were stuffed to the brink with his cum.
“I know, my sweet, you want it all don’t you? Selfish little thing, but I love you all the same.”
He pushed your face into the pillow, growling and purring into your ear as he listened to your muffled moans. You were drooling, your eyes glazed over with pleasured tears, and his chest swelled with pride to know he was the one making you feel this way.
No one else could see you in this state. Your body bare and covered in your own cum, his beginning to drip out of your cunt. You were an utter mess, only able to moan and babble out pleas for more, and each time you did he fulfilled your requests.
After all, he was a good mate. You wanted him to touch you, to increase his speed, or change the angle of his hips so his cock hit the perfect spot? He’d do so in a heartbeat, all to please you.
The prince slumped over you, slowly reverting back to his humanoid form as he came inside of you again. You were worn out, and he could see your pussy clenching around nothing when he pulled out.
“Aww, still needy…”
He gathered up some of his cum, cooing softly as he shoved it back into you with his fingers, pumping them in and out. “Look at you, wasting all of this. Naughty girl, do I have to start all over again?”
The night was long, and every time you grew too exhausted to carry on, he used a bit of his power to rejuvenate you. Heated kisses were left along your bruised skin, a satisfied purr leaving his throat as he spotted some of the hickeys and bites he had given you earlier.
“You look so pretty, decorated with my marks. No one else would dare to even lay a finger on you, not when you’re completely covered in my scent and bites.”
He nuzzled against your neck as you sat on his lap, cockwarming him. The prince was kind enough to give you a break, though he couldn’t bear to pull out of you, even for a second.
The prince smiled fondly, rubbing his hand over your swollen belly. “You know… I’d be happy if you were able to carry my young, but I know there’s a chance it won’t happen due to our difference in anatomy.”
He nibbled softly on your neck and shoulder. “But I don’t care, you’re my mate regardless. Having children would be nice but it’s not a necessity.”
You sighed in relief. In all honesty, part of you had been afraid he would abandon you for another celestial deity if you could not produce an heir. You were only human after all…
His teeth grazed your jaw, but you felt no fear. “Mmm… I’ve only known you a day but it feels like an eternity. Perhaps that is what being soul bonded to someone feels like…”
“I feel that way too… it’s like we’ve always been together, or at least… we were meant to be.”
The two of you shared a kiss, one of his hands on your ample breast, squeezing the soft flesh as his tongue ran across yours.
Once you both were worn out and the sun had come up, he finally curled up in bed with you to rest properly. Binge again you felt almost like a newborn baby being held and protected, safe and warm. You were getting used to this kind of thing… getting used to being loved.
When you awoke with a whine, you were being carried away by the prince. He glanced down, giving you a quick kiss. “Quiet now, love. We’re going to escape for a bit. Let’s call it our early honeymoon.”
You let out a laugh, quickly shushed by your mate. “But we haven’t even married yet, love.”
The prince grinned. “Yes, but once we’re married I’ll have too many responsibilities to take care of because I’ll be emperor. Let’s enjoy our freedom until then.”
He leapt across a sea of stars, and you reached down to touch it. Bits of stardust clung to your fingertips, glowing brightly.
“There’s a hot spring, we’ll relax there for a few days… or until they notice we’re missing.”
The celestial hot springs were beautiful, and once you stepped into the water, you felt your body relax and melt. “Oh wow…”
The prince pulled you in, holding you in his lap. “B-but this isn’t the mixed bath, you shouldn’t-“
You were quieted when his cock nudged against you. The two of you were both still very sensitive from your mating bond, there was no way you could say no to having him inside of you.
“Mmm…”
He admired your curves, one of his hands giving your soft belly a squish as you lowered yourself onto his cock. “Pretty girl knows where the best seat in the house is, doesn’t she?”
You pouted, but he was right. The last few days had been utter bliss, you were already addicted to your mate’s scent and cum.
Just a whiff of his cologne or musk was enough to have you clench around him, and he was close to bursting when he smelled your arousal.
“Good girl, my sweet little mate…”
He bounced you on his cock lazily, sinking into the water a bit as he licked at your neck.
“I love you, (Name).”
You leaned against his chest, letting him guide your hips up and down. He was good at this, knowing when to speed up or change his rhythm to really get you going.
“And I love you, my prince. More than anything… you’ve made my life worth living.”
He tucked your head under his chin, embracing you. It wasn’t long before the two of you were done in the hot springs and ready to continue your love making in the bedroom.
The two of you spent several days at the hot spring, enjoying the water, food, and making love as often as possible. By the time someone came to pick you up, you were sure the hot spring was at least 80% cum.
‘Sorry, future customer,’ you thought to yourself, leaving against the prince as he guided you to the carriage.
It had all been like a dream. He had whisked you away into a fairy tale world, making you feel like a real life princess.
For the rest of your life, he would worship and adore you. With every kiss and touch, that fact was made clear.
To be loved by the prince was an honor. You were the thing he treasured the most, and you would continue to love him just as he was.
“Do you think dreams come true?” your asked, leaning against his shoulder as the carriage continued on towards the palace.
“Mhm, I do,” the prince murmured, pulling you closer. “Because I’ve been dreaming of this my entire life… and I finally have you.”
You smiled and drifted off in his arms, feeling like the luckiest girl ever.
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NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi
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sqoa · 6 months ago
Text
toji zenin, who has only stayed with the zenin clan because he just can’t give up the sweet pussy of his personal servant—you.
because you don’t adhere to the strict rules given to the servants. and you can’t bring yourself to care about them either.
because why should you wake toji up by parting his window shutters and letting the sun stir him awake, when you could rouse him from sleep with your lips wrapped around his cock instead? you’re sure he prefers waking to the warmth of your throat, delicate eyes looking up at him through your lashes as you take his length to the base.
his hand, even in his half-asleep state, reaching down to push you even further on his cock until he can feel the back of your throat and your nose is tickled by his dark pubes. because there’s no better alarm sound than that of you gagging on his cock as you swallow the load he gifts you.
and how could he bring himself to leave when he has you at his beck and call at all times? all he has to do is shoot you a look from across the room and you’re ducking out to meet him in a quiet corridor or empty room so he can hike up your robes and drop to his knees to return the mornings favour. sure, he’s a selfish man, but he’s greedy and indulgent when it comes to tasting you.
you always try to be quiet when cumming on his tongue but you never succeed, and toji loves it. he loves knowing the assholes in his clan hear it every time he sinks into you, because you’re moaning his name so pretty that any lesser man would cum as soon as you tighten around his pulsing cock. he loves knowing every time you serve him in their presence they’re only imagining the way you serve him with your cunt behind closed doors.
god, he doesn’t even care to close the door half the time. too many times has a clan elder walked in to see you, pressed up against the wall as toji fucks you from behind with fast strokes and drawling groans. and he never stops, never slows down or even bothers to care about an unwelcome audience—because you never care. you serve him, not them, and if worrying about prying eyes takes from your duties—you’d rather take his affections in stride.
because you are his in every aspect of the word. you serve him hand and foot, you take his cock into your mouth each morning, you let him fuck you full of his cum each evening, you turn his scowl into a gentle smile with each kiss you lay upon his lips. your heart is his, and his yours.
and one morning before the sun has risen to find toji in the servants chambers, his lips patched around your clit and two fingers already pumping into you. he plays the servant, and wakes you for once. you cum not once, but twice around his fingers, back arching as pleasure washes you clean. and as he pulls away with a glistening lower half of his face and presses the most gentle kiss to your inner thigh, he whispers something that changes the course of your life entirely.
“let’s get the fuck outta here, whaddya’ think, dollface?”
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