cw. ghostface!suna x fem!reader, pet names, smut, little non-con if u pay attention, established relationship at the end, english isn’t my first language.
wa. 2,7k
It was close to 10 p.m. when I went down to the kitchen to make some popcorn. My parents went on a trip and left me home alone. It was common for nights like this to happen, as they always traveled for work.
I put the butter and corn in the popcorn maker and turned on the stove at the same time as the landline in the living room started ringing. The phone was maintained by my parents' work, because let's face it, nobody still uses a landline these days.
“Hello?”
“Hello, who is it?” a thick voice asked on the other end of the line.
“Who are you trying to reach?”
“What number is this?”
“What number are you trying to reach?” I replied.
“I don't know.”
“Well, I think you have the wrong number, then” I spoke simplistically.
“Do I?”
“Yeah, it happens.” I shrugged, even though the person couldn't see me, and hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. I turned to go back into the kitchen when the phone rang again.
“Yeah, I guess I really did call the wrong number.” It was the same voice.
“So why did you call again?” I asked, with a laugh.
“To apologize.”
“You're forgiven. Bye.”
“Wait, don't hang up!” The person exclaimed.
“Huh? Why not?”
“I want to talk to you for a minute.”
“Well, you have plenty of other numbers for that.” I said with a smile, hanging up the phone.
The popcorn had left a delicious aroma in the kitchen and my mouth was already watering. I was stirring the popcorn popper, waiting for the corn to stop popping, when my cell phone rang. It was a private number, so I had no idea who it was, but I answered anyway.
“Hello?” I asked as I looked for a bowl to put my popcorn in.
“Why don't you want to talk to me?”
“Okay, who is it?”
“Tell me your name and I'll tell you mine.”
“Um, no, I don't think so.” I rested my cell phone on my neck to get the popcorn out of the pot.
“What's that noise?”
“Popcorn.”
“Um, I only eat popcorn at the movies.”
“Well, I'm going to watch a movie now.”
“Yeah? What movie?”
“Oh it's just some scary movie.”
“A scary movie? Interesting” the person on the other end of the line paused and I could hear his heavy breathing “What's your favorite scary movie?”
“Oh, I don't know...” I pondered a bit, leaning on the kitchen counter, popping some popcorn in my mouth “I think… Scream.”
“It's the one with the masked killer, isn't it?”
I mumbled an "uh-huh", wanting to end the conversation
“So, do you have a boyfriend?” The person asks.
“Why? Do you want to ask me out on a date?” I asked mischievously, with a laugh.
“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Mm, no.”
“You never told me your name.”
“Why do you wanna know my name?”
“‘Cause I wanna know who I’m looking at.” the person stopped talking and I remained silent, a shiver ran through my body and the joke was no longer funny. “Are you used to being alone at home, y/n?”
“Who's talking?” I asked seriously this time.
“Calm down, there's no need to get nervous” the person spoke with an annoying calmness “You see, it's important to lock all the doors when you're home alone, especially at this time of night. Are you sure everything is locked, y/n?”
“It's not funny anymore. You know I can call the police if you carry on with this silly little game, don't you?” I checked the front door and the door to the living room that led to the garden and both were locked.
“Yeah? And what would you say to the police? Although... I don't think it's a good idea to call the police, sweetheart, especially given the clothes you're wearing, right? You know how disgusting these guys can be.”
I swallowed, going up to the second floor.
“And what am I wearing?” I asked. It was probably just some weirdo trying to prank and scare me. From school, maybe. But even so, I checked the glass doors leading to the balcony, just to be sure.
“Um, let's see... You're wearing a black tank top, and apparently you're not wearing a bra since your nipples are marked on the fabric, and a... what is that? A pair of panties? Shorts? I can't tell the difference, but it's short, black and has a kitten print.” My heart was pounding out of my chest and I wouldn't be surprised if it jumped out “You're quite a sight, y/n.”
“Right, end of joke. I'll call the police.” I ended the call and went to my room. Of course I wouldn't call the police for that.
A cold wind blew in through the open window, chilling my bare legs. I hurried to close it and locked it out of conscience just as I heard a noise in the hallway, only to stick my head out and see nothing. I jumped with a gasp when my cell phone rang again, but fortunately, this time it was my mother.
“Hi babygirl, how are you?” she asked softly and I relaxed at hearing her voice.
“Hey, Mom! I’m okay, how are you?” I lied, I wasn't going to worry my parents on account of some unoccupied weirdo.
“We're fine!” I heard my father shouting "I love you, baby!" in the background and my mother's laughter “I called to see if everything was okay, you're not scared, are you?”
I laughed nervously “Of course not! I'm a big girl, I can stay at home on my own!”
“Huuumm okay, Mrs. Grown-up” we laughed “Make sure you go to sleep soon, huh? Don't stay up till dawn.”
“Yes, ma'am!” We laughed some more and said goodbye.
I was able to relax a bit more and went down to the kitchen to get my popcorn. I went upstairs and turned off the downstairs lights that were on and returned to my room, putting the movie on the TV and lying down on the bed.
[…]
I was almost halfway through the movie, about forty minutes in, when I heard a noise, a kind of thump. I instantly remembered the phone call from earlier, which had really scared me. I decided to ignore it, it must have been the wind knocking something over in the garden or something. I played the movie and snuggled into bed, my popcorn bucket long since empty. But, as my peace wasn't lasting long tonight, I began to hear heavy footsteps in the hallway. I stopped the movie immediately. I tried to convince myself that it was nerves about the phone call that must have been in my head, or even the influence of the movie, but it was too real to be in my head. The footsteps were firm, they didn't seem to want to go unnoticed. A thick, loud voice said "toc, toc" followed by two knocks on my door. I froze, paralyzed on the bed.
“Cat got your tongue, y/n?” it was the same voice from the phone, I knew for sure.
“What are you doing in my house?! How did you get in here?” I asked nervously.
“Come on, I told you it was dangerous to leave the doors unlocked, didn't I?” the guy said, in the same calm, irritating tone of voice.
“Everything was locked, you weirdo!”
“Are you sure?” the door handle began to turn slowly and my body moved on its own towards the closet.
I hid among my clothes, crouching on the floor. I was panting and shaking, tears in the corners of my eyes. I heard the door creak open and footsteps entered my room. I mentally cursed myself when I realized that I had left my cell phone on the bed. Now would be a good time to call the police.
“Do you want to play hide and seek?” he said, laughing before continuing: “All right, it's more interesting that way.”
I heard him open the door to my bathroom and I could see when he turned the light on through the crack in the door. I also heard him open the drawer of my dressing table and play the movie on the television, even though he had turned the volume down.
My heart was pounding loudly and I was afraid he could hear it, so I put my hand over my mouth to stop my panting coming out too loud. I watched as he opened the closet door. He was a tall guy. All black pants, shirt and boots and a white ghost mask preventing me from seeing his face. The fucking ghostface. He rummaged through some hangers, making space between the clothes. My heart beat even faster, he'll find me. He'll find me!
“Boo!” he made space at once between the clothes covering me, a sadistic laugh coming from beneath his mask.
[…]
“What do you want?” I asked in a tearful voice, sniffling.
He laughed: “Let's watch the movie.”
What?!
I looked at him paralyzed, still crouched on the floor of my closet, and he left, sitting on my bed.
“Aren't you coming?” he turned to me, as if waiting for me. I got up from the floor, walking slowly over to him and sitting on the bed on top of my legs. He shook his head in denial, clicking his tongue. “Come here, sit down.” he patted his own lap.
I swallowed and looked at him incredulously, even though I couldn't see his face. I stood up and faced him. With surprising speed, he turned me onto my back and whispered against the back of my neck: “Do you know what a safe word is, y/n?” I nodded “Yours is mercy, you'll use it if you need to.”
His big an cold hands gripped my thighs firmly from behind.
“Bent forward and your head on the floor.” he ordered, his voice firm.
I did as he asked, sat on his lap, my clitoris almost brushing against his scratchy jeans, I was hanging off the bed, my torso stretched out and my face almost touching my white fur rug.
“What do we have here?” he said, and even though I couldn't see his face, I could tell he was smiling.
He pulled my pajama shorts aside, the chilly air in the room making my pussy clench around nothing, since I wasn't wearing any panties. He ran one of his fingers between my outer lips, realizing right there that I was wet.
“Did the fright I gave you make you wet, sweetheart? What a pervert...” he pulled my shorts down my legs with a little difficulty due to the position, hooking my ankles around his waist.
His hands roamed up and down my thighs, his thumbs hooking into the curve of my ass. I was all open for him, open and dripping.
“So pretty, babe” his voice was nothing more than a whisper, followed by a slap on my ass. It burned.
One more.
One more.
One more.
My thighs trembled from the slaps and my pussy throbbed and ached from lack of stimulation. I moved my hips down, my clitoris rubbing against his jeans, and I let out a louder moan than I expected.
“Owwn” he laughed “Does that pussy need something, pretty girl?”
I gasped when his icy thumb brushed under my clitoris.
“Come on, beautiful, I asked you a question. Don't be rude.”
“I...” I was dizzy. Maybe because I was horny, maybe because of my position and my blood was rushing to my head. I was nothing but a mess.
“Looks like someone here likes to be scared” he laughed as he rubbed my swollen clit.
I moaned, unconsciously leaning towards him for more contact as his palm slapped my pussy, the pain reverberating throughout my body. He slapped my ass again, my skin was hot and burning.
“Your pussy looks even prettier when your ass is red, that’s funny” but his tone had no humor in it.
When the seventh slap came, I let out a yelp, scrambling to my feet in a failed attempt to ward off the pain burning my skin. He laughed at my attitude, stroking my burning ass. Each time he slammed into me, the momentum pushed me further and further down, rubbing my clit against his jeans, which were probably already stained with my lubrication. Those flashes of pleasure were what kept me there, the pain and pleasure turning me on even more.
“Come on, babe, do you want to cum already?” he asked in a whisper, leaning down.
I turned my crying face to the side, trying to see his figure: “Yes! I... Please!” I was nothing but a humiliating mess who just wanted some relief.
“Very well, then” he pulled my torso to himself, my back against his hard and warm chest, my battered ass pinching under his scratchy jeans.
“You okay, babe? Do you want to use your word?” he asked, his hot breath hitting my cheek. I denied it. He smiled. “That's my good girl.”
He laid me on the bed, my back on the mattress, while he lay on top of me. He ripped off my top with ease, my nipples erect from arousal and the chilly air in the room welcoming them. He tugged on my right nipple with his forefinger and thumb, twisting it and pulling it upwards, eliciting a moan from me. He left a kiss on my belly and started to undress, without taking off his mask yet. His chest was white and toned, with a few spots here and there, as were his thighs. His cock wasn't thick, but it was long and slightly curved upwards. The little pink head was leaking pre-cum and had a prominent vein at the base. I sighed at the sight.
“Enjoying the view, doll?” he asked, head tilted to the side, sliding his right hand in a slow masturbation. I tipped my head back, biting my lip with a stifled laugh. You bet I am. “Come here, sweetheart.”
He said slyly, pulling me up by my ankles and slowly inserting his cock into my needy pussy.
“Oh fuck” I moaned, sinking my head into the sheets. My insides trembled around his cock, feeling full. He sighed heavily above me, muffled by the mask.
He moved his hips back, taking his cock out completely, to shove it in again with force. He did this a few times before he started thrusting hard. I moaned loudly, too sensitive. My pussy was squeezing his hard cock and my clit was throbbing, my ass was burning against the sheets. I brought two fingers to my clit to stimulate it, but they were soon removed and replaced by his.
He rubbed my swollen spot hard with his thumb while I squeezed my nipples. The familiar pressure felt extremely good from my womb.
“Fuck, I'm going to cum!” I exclaimed as I felt my orgasm coming, and he increased the pace of his thrusts, driving deep into my pussy.
My legs trembled as the orgasm hit me and I opened my mouth in a silent moan. He penetrated me a few more times, prolonging my orgasm as he deposited his hot cum inside me.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed as he removed his mask, kissing me for the first time that night, a delicate kiss. I laughed against his lips. “You perverted little thing!” he laughed, slapping my sensitive ass, not so hard this time.
“Rin, babe! That was awesome!” I kissed him with so much love.
“You naughty naughty girl!” he laughed, biting my lower lip as he pushed his oozing cum back into my pussy.
“Yeah and you like it!”
Well, let's see what a coincidence. The weirdo Mr. Ghostface who broke into my house and fucked me happened to be my boyfriend, Suna. He and I always like to do something different when it comes to sex from time to time, and knowing that his naughty girlfriend was a little scared and horny about ghostface and that she'd be home alone all night, he wanted to surprise me. Besides, I would recognize my boyfriend's voice on the phone, which only increased my anxiety and excitement about what he would do that night. And what a good surprise it was!
Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader
Warnings: smut, breeding kink, he gets lost in the sauce frfr, situationship… ish?, this man wants to RUN, disorganised attachment style (primarily avoidant), penis in vagina sex, teasing, edging (accidental), unprotected sex, creampie
Word Count: 5.3k
Summary: Kakashi discovers that he has a breeding kink. It's kind of a spiritual experience.
Inspired by @rookie98writes's fic Leave It On
—
Kakashi isn’t used to the strange sort of domesticity that comes with being in a... whatever this is. It’s not quite a relationship. A situationship, maybe. He’d say it’s something more than friends-with-benefits, but the two of you aren’t really friends, either.
You come together every now and then. That’s all. Like two passing ships in the night.
So why is he standing in front of your stove, cooking dinner while you sort through the pile of unopened mail on your kitchen table? Why did he offer to water your plants while you were away? Why does he want to do anything for you?
Kakashi knows what it’s like trying to play catch-up after some time away from home—two months, in your case. He’d knocked on your door a few minutes ago with the intention of returning your key, and he must have caught you right after you got back from the store if the two bags of groceries on your kitchen counter were any indication.
You looked so dead on your feet that Kakashi took over from there, unprompted. But now, as he stirs the pot of flavourful soup simmering away on the stove, his mind sees fit to wander.
What the hell is he doing?
He’s getting too attached. That’s what he’s doing.
It’s that time again—time to cut and run, just as he always does when things start to become complicated. Kakashi makes a habit of ending any potential connection before it can even start, because he can’t afford to lose anyone else. He can’t get hurt if he never lets anyone in. It’s easier that way.
“I need to schedule my injection,” you mutter to yourself as you read through one letter. Then you sigh and toss it back down onto the table, before you lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. “We should probably get used to using condoms again until I can book an appointment.”
Your birth control must be overdue, then.
“Sure,” Kakashi answers, feigning unbothered. The two of you used condoms in the beginning, but after a particularly gruesome mission that nearly saw him home in a box, Kakashi stopped reaching for the bedside drawer, and you stopped asking him to.
He should have known then that he was getting too attached.
Still, it’s your body. Whatever you want. He’ll end things in the morning either way.
As Kakashi samples a bit of the soup he’s minding on the stove, pausing for a moment to add a bit more salt, it suddenly sinks in – really sinks in – what could happen if the two of you aren’t careful.
He could get you pregnant.
A jolt of arousal shoots through him.
Kakashi doesn’t want children, not now, not ever, which is why it doesn’t make a lick of sense that such a thing would turn him on. He likes the idea of his seed taking root inside of you. He might even enjoy it, the imagery his mind conjures—you bent over for him, begging him to give you a baby, your pretty yukata hiked up around your waist…
His clan crest embroidered on the back of it.
Kakashi swears. Loudly.
You startle, looking over at him in alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he lies. Then he proceeds to play it off like he burned himself, but he isn’t fine. No, that single thought, that single fantasy, scares the complete and utter shit out of him—but it turns him on even more, and that’s so much worse.
He’s already too attached. Way too fucking attached.
—
Kakashi doesn’t do feelings. He has them, of course, much like any other person, but he doesn’t let them show very often, and he certainly doesn’t talk about them. He won’t say in so many words that he cares; instead, he shows you through his actions alone.
His knees brush the underside of your thighs as he settles between your legs, bracing himself with one hand beside your head.
What a vision you make, spread out for him like this.
Your lamp had blown when you went to turn it on, leaving the streetlights to illuminate your features in a sickly hue of yellow-green. It isn’t romantic in the least, but he can’t help thinking that you’ve never looked more beautiful than in this moment—maybe because it’s the last time he’ll ever get to see you like this.
The sight of you, so needy and wanting, fills his chest with something bittersweet.
The tomoe of his sharingan spins lazily as he memorises the curves of your body, the muss of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest as you work to recover from your first orgasm of the night. His fingers are still tacky with your essence, and he smears the residual wetness over the head of his cock to make the entry a little easier.
“You should wear a condom,” comes your breathy whisper, but you make no move to stop him. Your eyes almost seem to glow as you peer up at him in the dark, worrying your lower lip between your teeth.
“Mm. Do you want me to?”
His question hangs heavy in the air.
The only things Kakashi can hear are your soft breaths and the sound of his own steady heartbeat, which quickens with every silent second that passes.
You want to say no, he realises.
He wants you to say no.
“I like it better without,” you answer quietly, and the implication isn’t lost on him. Not when you look up at him with those big doe eyes, like you don’t know the risk.
Because there is a risk, and he knows it. Kakashi hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night—wicked thoughts, terrible thoughts—thoughts of filling your fertile womb with his seed, thoughts of watching your belly grow round with his child, thoughts of seeing his clan sigil stamped between your shoulder blades like a mark of ownership.
His.
Against his better judgement, Kakashi does exactly what he shouldn’t do.
He agrees.
“Just this once.”
Just like he says every other time—except every other time, there hasn't been a risk.
Your coy little smile is what prompts him to lower down onto an arm and settle more of his weight on you. Kakashi dips his head to kiss you indulgently, savouring the taste of you, the feel of you beneath him. He kisses you like he hopes to convey just how much he missed you while you were gone, like you might be able to taste the unspoken words that linger in his mouth.
He kisses you like he means it—and he does. That’s why he needs to go.
As his tongue twines with yours, Kakashi fills you in a slow, beautiful glide that wrenches a whimper from your throat.
He knows he should go easy on you, but he relishes in the rapid flutter of your walls as you struggle to adjust to him after so much time apart. A surge of masculine pride washes over him, tinged with a hint of guilt for stretching you open like this. He isn’t exactly small, after all, but you take him so well.
To ease any potential discomfort, he smooths his hand up the soft skin of your thigh in a soothing caress, before he trails gentle, placating kisses along your jawline. “Is this okay?” Kakashi asks, voice low, only to be rewarded with a particularly strong contraction that makes his toes curl.
“More than okay,” you sigh.
As a test, he shifts his hips. When Kakashi hears your breath hitch, he knows that you can handle more.
He starts slow, rocking into you sensually, but he already knows that he isn’t going to last. It’s been just as long for him, and you’re tighter than you’ve ever been.
“God, Kakashi, you feel so good.”
So do you. Kakashi sucks a bruise on your neck in response, if only to muffle the sound of his own pleasure when your perfect cunt clenches around him again.
He needs to pace himself, or he’ll finish too soon—but then you ask him for more, and what else can he do but oblige you?
He speeds up, not overly so, just enough that both of you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of your lovemaking. The smell of your arousal permeates the air, and he’s tempted to have another taste.
Later.
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. “Did you miss me that much?”
Maybe he’s reassurance-seeking – just a little – but your answering whine tells him what he already knows.
He’ll miss this. He’ll miss you. That’s why he needs to go.
“Stay with me,” you rasp. You’ve always been good at noticing when he’s stuck in his head, but right now, Kakashi can’t help but wonder if you’ve just read his thoughts. You see through him so easily. It’s one of the things he likes about you.
“Sorry,” he says with genuine apology, leaning in to capture your lips again. You let out a pleased hum into his mouth and lift your thighs up a little higher—an offering, one he’s more than happy to accept, even if he doesn’t plan to reciprocate.
It’s selfish, he knows.
The new angle does something to him, or maybe it’s because he's well aware that it would be even easier to fill you up this way. He reaches deeper like this, and the tilt of your hips would perfectly hold his cum in place, increasing the chances that it’ll take.
He wants it to take.
Kakashi exhales a long, shaky breath. He shouldn’t want that as much as he does. He shouldn’t want it at all.
“Close?”
Yes, but he’s not going to tell you that. Kakashi pulls back to look at you, only to find you gazing up at him like he’s hung the moon. It makes his heart ache.
He stamps it down.
“I could be,” he teases lightly—a non-answer. “Are you?”
When you open your mouth to respond, however, he snaps his hips forward suddenly to make you trip over your words. “I— shit,” you swear, and his eyes shine with silent laughter. Your own narrow playfully as you add, “I could be too, if you keep that up.”
“Really?”
To pick on you a little, Kakashi withdraws from your tight heat more slowly than he has all night, agonisingly slowly, until only the head of him remains inside; and then he lingers there, purposely, until the stirrings of impatience start to take you over.
It’s cute, the frown you give him, the pout he sees beginning to form.
“Don’t be mean,” you tell him sulkily.
His lips tug up at the corners, revealing a hint of prominent canine. “Maa, I didn’t realise you were in a rush,” Kakashi drawls. “And here I wanted to take my time with you.”
Before you can read too much into what he’s just said, he slams home. Hard.
Your startled gasp brings on a flicker of self-satisfaction deep within. Kakashi relishes in the knowledge that only he can make you feel like this—especially when he starts to fuck you in earnest, prompting you to fling your arms around his shoulders.
“F-Fuck, Kakashi, oh my god—”
“That’s it,” he encourages gently. “Hold onto me.” He likes the closeness of it, the intimacy.
You cling to him like your life depends on it, which brings about a funny feeling in his chest that he can’t quite shake—something warm and gooey and affectionate.
Kakashi stamps that down, too, and traces the line of your neck with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin until you shiver. Seeing your throat so littered with love bites unearths something within him, something primal, that he’s always refused to name.
He likes seeing the marks he’s left on you. He wants them to mean something. He wants them to mean that you’re his.
He’s too attached.
To distract himself from what he intends to do in the morning, Kakashi picks up the pace, flesh smacking against flesh as he snaps his hips into yours, fast and rough, exactly how you want it.
It doesn’t last long. He’s too worked up.
Kakashi knows he’ll come before you do if he continues like this, but when he tries to slow down, you dig your heels insistently into his ass.
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, please—”
“I’ll have to pull out soon,” he says raggedly, even though the thought of finishing in you already has him ready to blow.
When Kakashi feels you lock your ankles behind him, he nearly does.
“Come inside me,” you whine, your breath fanning hot over the shell of his ear.
His thoughts screech to a halt. You want him to come inside you, knock you up—
“Fuck,” he curses, stopping abruptly, buried all the way to the hilt. His cock throbs wildly, desperate for release, forcing him to tightly grip the the sheets above your head in order to stave it off.
If he moves right now, he’s done for.
When you make a quiet, frustrated sound deep in your throat and wiggle your hips, Kakashi barely manages to hang on. He can feel that tell-tale flutter inside of you, the one that indicates exactly how close you are, but he’s closer. His breaths come out in short, sharp pants as he tries to hold himself together.
You finish first. Always.
“Don’t be mean,” you say again, but you sound a little more petulant this time.
Kakashi lets out an exhausted sort of laugh and presses a wet smack of a kiss just beneath your ear, making you giggle. “You like it when I’m mean.”
“I like it when you’re nice,” you clap back, voice breathy.
Kakashi hums knowingly. “All right. I can be nice.”
Then he pulls back just enough to pepper your face with kisses, and you squeal in delight, though it soon tapers off into a moan when he starts to trail them down your throat, each one more sensual than the last. He palms one of your breasts, gently squeezing, tweaking a nipple—
“Come on,” you whine, digging your heels into his ass a second time.
He laughs softly at that. No more teasing. You want him to be nice.
You inhale sharply when Kakashi picks back up where he left off, this time with quick, shallow thrusts that target your g-spot. He smooths his hand down your side, savouring the softness of your skin, then he slides it in between your bodies to rub your clit in just the way you like—the way he remembers you like, because he’s too fucking attached. And sure enough, when your hips buck from the added sensation, he knows that it’s working for you.
“If you—If you edge me again, I swear to god—”
Upon hearing the indignation in your voice, Kakashi laughs softly. “I won’t.”
Then he remembers that he won’t have a chance to edge you again. Not after tonight.
His jaw tenses at the reminder.
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasp, holding onto him, needing him, which pulls him right back into the present. “Come with me. Please?”
Kakashi bites back a groan and slides in deeper, readying to do what his body craves.
No. He can’t come with you. He’d have to finish inside in order for that to happen.
And just like that, he’s back to teetering on the edge. The filth his mind conjures nearly proves to be his undoing—a vivid image of your tight, wet cunt wringing out every drop of his cum until it takes, tying you to him, making you need him. Making you his. The threat of it simmers under his skin, but it’s starting to feel more like a guarantee.
Get her there, then pull out.
Kakashi repeats those words in his head like a mantra, over and over, like it’ll ensure that he lasts, and it works—at least until you start to move your hips in time with his thrusts. You meet him at the perfect angle, sucking him deep on every stroke, allowing him to slide just beyond your cervix and into that spot that sends your voice into a fever pitch.
A choked sob escapes you as you rake your nails down his back, leaving red lines in your wake. The sting of it only sends him higher, and he sinks his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder to prevent himself from blowing too soon.
“Right there, Kakashi, right fucking there—”
Right there, so deep within you that if he came right now—
He groans when he imagines what would happen, and it all ends with his baby in your belly and his family crest on your back. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, yet he fucks into you with purpose, now—hard, deep, powerful thrusts that knock your headboard into the wall.
Kakashi knows exactly what that purpose is. The primal part of his brain won’t let him forget it.
“Yes, just like that, fuck me, make me fucking yours—”
He kisses you to shut you up, because if he hears another syllable, he’s sure to fill you to the brim. It’s not a gentle kiss, not now. He holds your head in place with a firm grip on your jaw, shoves his tongue into your mouth to assert his control, and still, he recites his mantra.
Get her there, then pull out.
Get her there, then pull out.
Get her there, then—
You jerk your head away to gulp in a breath of fresh air, chest heaving from exertion, and Kakashi’s eyes sweep over your face for any sign of discomfort. What he finds is the opposite, and he drinks in the pleasured scrunch of your brows, the hazy flutter of your eyelids, the kiss-swollen state of your lips.
Seeing your muscles tense and strain as you struggle to keep your eyes on his is one of the most intimate things he’s ever experienced.
“Come inside me,” you beg, and he can hear the desperation there, see it written all over your pretty face. “I need it, I fucking need it, Kakashi, give me your cum—”
“I’ll give it to you,” he chokes out. Anything for you. Anything you want.
The way your fingers wrench into his hair belies a hunger that matches his own, and you drag him down for another kiss, messy and insistent, demanding that he make good on his promise to pump you full. He can feel the ripple of your inner walls as you come undone, feel the painfully tight squeeze of your legs around his waist, holding him there, ensuring that he stays; and never in his life has he felt so overwhelmed.
He can’t pull out. Not now. Not when you’re so willing to milk him dry.
Kakashi kisses you with everything that he is as he shoves himself impossibly deep inside of you, acting solely on instinct to drown your cervix in hot, sticky spend. He lets out a sound of pure male satisfaction that you eagerly swallow down, your tongue massaging his in tune with every erratic jerk of his hips as he empties himself inside of you, painting your insides white, marking you as his.
It feels good. It feels right.
He’s too attached.
He doesn’t care.
As he comes down from his high, all Kakashi can think about is how fucking risky it is, what he’s just done, which only ruins him more when the post-orgasm clarity finally hits.
Why the hell did he do that?
What the hell did he do?
Your thighs tremble and shake, a sign that he’s done his job well, though he feels no pride in it—just a growing sense of panic.
He needs to go. He needs to go right now. Not tomorrow. Now. He needs to get the hell out of here and never look back, right fucking now.
Then he hears your quiet sob, and his heart leaps into his throat. Kakashi jerks his head down to look at you, and when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, he actually does panic.
“Did I— Shit,” he quickly pulls out to check on you, more attentive than he’s ever been, “Did I hurt you?”
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s accidentally hurt a woman during sex, but he really should have taken it easier on you. He probably went too deep and hit your cervix a little too hard. That’s what usually tends to happen.
“No,” you sniffle. “I’m fine. I just... I really missed you.”
Fuck. Don’t say that. You’ll make him want to stay.
His eyes soften as they trail over your features – the colour of your irises, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips – and he gently smooths your tears away with the backs of his fingers. “I didn’t hurt you?”
You shake your head and offer him a watery smile. “I also came really, really hard,” you add matter-of-factly, and he huffs out a relieved laugh. It’s hormonal, then. “They’re happy tears, Kakashi. Calm down.”
Teasing or not, someone telling him of all people to calm down is an otherworldly experience. The phrase lands strangely, and for the first time since he came to see you tonight, his thoughts quiet down to a dull background murmur.
They’re happy tears, you said.
You’re happy with him.
He’s happy with you, too. He doesn’t want to go.
You frown, then, and lean up onto your elbows to look at him more closely. “What’s wrong?”
Kakashi can’t be sure what you see in his expression to warrant that sort of question, but the fight finally leaves him. He sits back on his heels and drags a hand down his face, feeling defeated for a reason he can’t explain.
“I was just...” Happy, for a moment. Happy to be with you. “Worried,” he finishes lamely. He can’t look at you, not when he feels the heat of a blush creeping up his neck.
You laugh and turn him back towards you, gently cupping the side of his face. “Okay. Well, I’m fine,” you pat his cheek in playful reprimand, “but I am leaking all over my clean sheets, and it’s your fault, so...”
That draws his attention. When Kakashi sees the creamy mess spilling out of you, his flaccid cock twitches with interest even after he remembers why his stomach is in knots.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” he says hoarsely, transfixed by the sight.
He wants to do it again.
He shouldn’t want to do it again. He feels fucking crazy for having done it once already, when the two of you aren’t even in a relationship, let alone in any way prepared for a child. But again? A second time? He’d have to be certifiably insane.
“It’s fine,” you reassure him, and Kakashi wonders how the hell you can possibly be taking it so in stride. He came a lot. There’s so much of it dripping out onto the sheets that it’s starting to create a small puddle under your ass, and there’s even more inside of you—a lot more, judging by how hard he came.
It might take. It might seriously take, and you think it’s fine?
“You’re doing it again,” you tell him, and his eyes snap back up to yours. He’s in his head again, you mean. Then you chew your lip for a moment, hesitation evident, before you ask carefully, “You’ve been acting a little… off tonight. Is everything okay?”
Every single one of his instincts is telling him to run. That’s where this conversation always leads, but he’s not ready for it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
He swallows thickly. “I’m fine.”
When you frown at him, skeptical, Kakashi shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.
“Okay. I won’t pry. But, um, I’m here. You know. If you ever need to talk.” You say it a little awkwardly, like you aren’t sure if he’d be offended by the suggestion, and the worried crease between your brows only grows at whatever you see in his expression. “Or... Or not.”
You laugh nervously, then, and shift away from him, only to wrinkle your nose when more of his cum oozes out of you.
It’s cute. You’re cute.
“You said it’s fine. Why?” The question leaves him before he even thinks it through, but it’s too late, now.
“What?”
This wasn’t the first time he’s come inside of you, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly the riskiest. “I finished inside. Why aren’t you more upset?”
“What do you mean? You finish inside me all the—” Then you stop, and your brows shoot straight up onto your forehead. “Wait, is this because of my birth control?”
“Well, it’s overdue, isn’t it?”
You stare at him for a prolonged moment, and he can almost see the gears turning in your head. Then your nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me? You thought my birth control was overdue, and you still—” Scandalised, you slap him on the arm. “Kakashi!”
Oh. Well. It must not be overdue yet, then.
Of course you wouldn’t let him come inside if there was a chance that you might conceive. He’s a fucking idiot.
“That’s so bad! What if you actually got me pregnant?”
A lick of heat shoots up his spine upon hearing you give voice to what’s been on his mind all night. Kakashi stares at you, wide eyed, and blushes all the way to the tips of his ears.
You study his face for a moment, before you purse your lips, looking a little troubled. Or pissed off. He can’t really tell. “I mean... Did you want to get me pregnant?”
“No,” he rushes to say, his cheeks burning hot because yes, he did, but not for real. “No. Not at all. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, and...”
How the hell is he supposed to explain himself? Neither of you are exactly vanilla, you’ve explored a number of kinks together, but this is something else entirely. Then again, a breeding kink would make the most sense out of any, considering it stems from a biological urge to procreate.
But would you even believe him if he said he only gets off to the fantasy of it, and not the reality? Because if a woman ever said that to him, he’d run away as fast as he could.
A sly smile tugs at your lips, then, a knowing smile, and Kakashi quickly averts his eyes to the window, embarrassed.
“You like it, don’t you?” you hum, seductively walking your fingers along his shoulders. “You like the idea of knocking me up.”
Refusing to look at you, Kakashi clears his throat, trying to ignore the arousal that comes on from your suggestive tone, never mind the words you speak in it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No?” The sheets rustle as you reposition yourself, and then, when your fingers delicately wrap around his cock, he inhales sharply and bites the inside of his cheek. “Then why are you so hard?”
And he is, too. He’s already fully erect and ready for another round, and he knows that there’s no way to lie his way out of it anymore. As you start to work your hand over him in slow, sensual strokes, up and down, coaxing the answer out of him, his head drops back.
“Because,” he rasps.
The sheets shift again, and then you crawl into his lap. He welcomes you gladly, splaying his hand over your lower back to steady you, though he still can’t face you. He’s too embarrassed.
“Because why?” you ask breathlessly. Kakashi lets out a pleasured sigh as you kiss and suck your way up the side of his neck, stroking him steadily, before you purr into his ear, “Because you want to give me a baby?”
A soft sound of approval rips out of his throat, and his cock twitches into your palm. “Don’t—Don’t say that,” he pleads.
“Hm? Why not?”
To hell with it. No sense in hiding it anymore. “Because I might actually do it.”
“Yeah?” Your teeth tug playfully at his earlobe before you pull back to look at him, and Kakashi finally wills himself to meet your sultry gaze, humiliated though he is. “You know,” you muse, “I don’t like condoms for a reason. Do you know why?”
The breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh.
Oh, he should have known. You’re just as filthy as he is. Of course you’d have a breeding kink, too, though he’s exceedingly grateful that you’d kept it to yourself until now. You’ve never been shy about sharing the things you enjoy, which means you probably figured out how he’d react. That’s the only explanation.
He likes that you understand him as well as you do.
He likes you.
“I think I might be able to guess,” Kakashi says knowingly, a smile playing at his lips. When he leans in to kiss you again, all he can think is: maybe it’s not a bad thing to be too attached.
—
Snippet #1:
“You said it was overdue,” Kakashi tells you.
“No, I said I needed to make an appointment,” you correct, and he can see that you’re struggling not to laugh. “I still have, like, a week left on it. I just didn’t think I’d be able to get an appointment that soon. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.”
While you cook breakfast for the two of you, Kakashi wraps his arms around your waist from behind and traces the shell of your ear with his tongue. “And what if I don’t want to be careful?”
He feels the shiver wrack your body, but then you do laugh at him. “Down, boy. Three rounds wasn’t enough for you?”
“Oh, I don’t know...” Kakashi pulls you back against him, allowing you to feel the answer for yourself. “You tell me.”
—
Snippet #2:
Kakashi hides his face in your pillow, feeling distinctly vulnerable without his mask. “Don’t tease me,” he groans, muffled. “I have a delicate constitution.”
You cackle at his discomfort, like the cruel woman you are. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m really, really curious.” Then you hum thoughtfully. “Do you want to know one of mine?”
He shifts his head just enough to reveal one curious eye.
You squirm a little, then, like you’re finally starting to realise exactly how embarrassing this is to talk about. “I, um...” A pause. “So, you know how...” Another pause, and you take a deep breath. “Okay. I like to imagine that I'm being used to—to repopulate a clan, I guess. Just, over and over. Lots of kids. But not for real.”
He feels another jolt of arousal at your admission.
Looks like you’re on the same page, then.
Then Kakashi leans up onto his elbow to regard you properly, and then he lifts an eyebrow, as if to point out how closely that particular fantasy hits to home.
That’s when you seem to realise who you’re talking to – the sole remaining member of a clan that could probably stand to be repopulated – and your eyes go wide, before you nearly trip over yourself to add, “It—It has nothing to do with your clan, specifically, Kakashi, it’s just—”
“A fantasy,” he finishes for you, amused.
You worry your lip between your teeth and nod.
“Well,” Kakashi says, considering his answer for a moment, “I might have imagined that, too. Specifically.” Then he gives you a roguish grin, intending to pay you back in kind for your teasing. “How many children do you think would be enough for my clan to be sufficiently repopulated, hm? I’m thinking eight.”
Mortified, you bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god! Eight?”
Payback’s a bitch. “Well, I was originally going to say ten, but—”
When you squeal in embarrassment and yank the blankets over your head, Kakashi barely manages to stifle a laugh.
—
A/N: This is the first thing I've posted in a hot minute, so your feedback would mean a lot - please let me know what you think :)
◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ you’re both breathing too hard already—and megumi hasn’t even taken off your panties yet.
the dorm is small. quiet. too quiet. just the hum of the ceiling fan overhead, the faint chirp of crickets outside, and somewhere across the wall, the unmistakable muffled laugh of yuji watching something dumb on his laptop. one thin wall away.
and still—megumi’s fingers are trembling as they trail up your thigh. his breath is shaky, warm against your neck. his voice barely a whisper.
“…you sure?”
you nod. you’ve nodded five times already, but it doesn’t stop the way his eyes flick up, searching your face like you might shatter under him. his hair falls across his forehead in soft, messy strands. his cheeks are pink. he’s trying to keep calm—cool, collected—but his cock has been twitching in his briefs since you kissed him like you meant it.
you hook your arms around his neck, your voice barely audible. “yes, ‘gumi. i want you. please.”
his name from your mouth makes his whole body twitch. like something snaps inside him.
he kisses you again—harder this time. tongue deep, needy. hands sliding up your bare thighs, dragging your sleep shirt up over your hips. he groans into your mouth when he sees what’s underneath: just the sheer lace of panties that barely cover anything.
“fuck,” he hisses. “you came here like this?”
you smirk, flushed and breathless. “i thought maybe you’d get the hint.”
he growls low, a sound you feel in your belly.
and then he’s pulling them down, his knuckles brushing your soaked folds. you flinch at the cold air, thighs clenching, and megumi pulls back just enough to stare—really stare.
“jesus,” he mutters, dark lashes low, eyes fixed on your cunt. “you’re dripping…”
“megumi—”
“you have to be quiet,” he warns, voice low and rough as his fingers slide through the slick between your thighs, stroking your folds slow. testing. teasing. “i mean it. yuji’s right there.”
you bite your lip. “then don’t make me moan.”
he huffs a laugh, smug, and presses a finger into you—slow. you arch, a tiny gasp slipping out before you can stop it. it’s tight. he groans when he feels the way you squeeze around him.
“so fuckin’ tight,” he whispers, kissing your jaw as he pumps gently. “gonna feel like heaven when i’m inside…”
your hips rock forward—needy, desperate—and he pulls his fingers free, watching your slick coat them, shiny in the low dorm light. he licks them clean. you watch. eyes wide.
then—finally—he pulls his cock out.
you gasp.
he’s big. thick. hard, flushed a deep red, the tip already leaking. you feel your stomach flip, a twist of nervous heat and excitement and ache.
“gonna go slow,” he promises, leaning over you, pressing the head to your entrance. “tell me if it’s too much.”
you nod. and then—
push.
he slides in slow, inch by inch. the stretch is real—burning, deep, your body resisting at first. you grip his shoulders, face buried in his neck as he groans—long and guttural—feeling your walls suck him in.
“shit,” he hisses. “you’re—fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight—so good.”
you’re panting against his throat, biting down a moan when he bottoms out. he doesn’t move yet—just kisses your temple, strokes your waist, lets you adjust while your whole body tries to memorize this feeling.
then—slow thrust.
you whimper, louder than you mean to.
megumi freezes. covers your mouth with his hand immediately, whispering hot against your ear.
“shhh. you have to stay quiet, baby. you don’t want yuji coming over, do you?”
you shake your head, eyes wide, tears pricking from the pressure. from how full you feel.
he starts moving—slow and deep, hips rocking into you gently, his hand still over your mouth to catch every ragged breath. his cock drags against your walls, thick and pulsing, and you can’t help the way your legs wrap around him tighter.
“you feel s-so good,” you whisper against his palm. “so big, megumi—”
he growls. “you’re killing me.”
he fucks you slow, quiet, deliberate. each thrust deeper, more confident. the sound of your bodies joining is filthy—wet, soft slaps as his cock sinks in over and over.
you start to tremble—your orgasm creeping up fast, tight in your belly.
“i—i’m gonna—”
“i know,” he whispers, lifting your leg, angling deeper. “cum for me. but be quiet.”
you bite your fist. your thighs shake. and then you’re cumming—hard, spasming around him, whole body tensed as you fight the scream burning your throat.
he groans—loud—and buries his face in your shoulder as he spills inside you, cock throbbing, cum spilling deep, hot and thick.
he stays there. breathing heavy. still buried deep.
and from across the wall—
“…the fuck was that noise?”
yuji.
you both freeze.
then megumi grins against your skin, cock still twitching inside you.
“…worth it.”
“The hands that cradled your face and tilted it upward to kiss your forehead are soaked in unimaginable amounts of blood.”
“But they cradled me, yes?”
Sylus, Caleb, Xavier, Eren, Geto, Gojo?, Levi, Armin, Hawks, Dabi
As a boy Katsuki never understood why men cried whenever they saw their bride for the first time.
When it came to his turn to stand at the altar, suited up and slicked back hair,he finally understood why.
His heart is pounding violently against his ribcage, so loud that he can hear it reverberate through his head. His palms were damp, and his gaze stays fixated on the double doers before him. The doors that will soon open to reaveal tge love of his life.
His foot meets floor repeatedly in a tapping motion, and his hands are rough as he shifts his collar side to side. His body litters with goosebumps and involuntary quivers.
He's suddenly grateful for this being a small wedding with only close family and friends. Hewouldn't want a large crowd witnessing his nerves get the better of him.
Kirishima smiles though the tears flowing down his face. He's honored to be the best man on his best friends big day, because that means he gets to see the tough Katsuki find pure happiness and put his walls down for the one he loves. If it's loveenough to make the great lord explosion murdered god dynamitenervous, then it's love that should be cherished.
Katsukis stomach flutters when the pianist begins to play your song. It's time.
He fiddles with the cuffs of his blazer and submerges the urge to run his hand through his perfectly styled hair.
When he locks eyes with you for the first time that day. It feels as if time itself slowed down. In this moment, every ounce of anxiety he had been carrying fades away. You are radiant under the soft orange glow of the sun, your skin shimmering like a precious diamond. His precious diamond.
His heart dances swiftly in his ribcage, touching every nerve in his body with pure love.
He catches a glimpse of your hands nervously fiddling your dress by your sides and remembers that he isn't alone. You, the love of his life, are sharing the same nervous flutter of butterflies in your stomach.
He begins to see you more clearly as you approach him. The soft glow of your eyes, your perfect lips and curves.
And when he hears his name flow so sweetly from your lips he can't help it. He chokes out a sob, and immediately your hands reach up to gently swipe away his tears.
The audience give a numerous amount of awww's, which cause a smile to tug its way onto his lips.
His glossy eyes stared longingly into yours. "You look beautiful" he whispered.
Saying his vows was the hardest part. He just couldn't stop crying, and the tears wouldn't stop flowing. You there assuring him and giving him gestures of love. When you started to say your own vows, seeing his redened nose and tear stained face cause tears of your own to flow down your face.
With a gentle yet firm grip his palm finds comfort on the curve of your waist. The minute the officient said you may kiss the bride. Your arms evelop his the soft skin of his neck and your heads tilt to the side as if it's instinct.
This kiss hold a firm yet sweet connection, a silent promise that this love would endure for eternity.
He was finally married to you, his angel, the girl of his dreams. He looked forward to calling you his wife, to starting a family-
Hot tears stream uncontrollably down his face, an eruption of raw emotion he can't contain. His heart swells with overwhelming swarm of love, joy, and deep appreciation, a feeling he once never believed possible.
With a shaky breath, he pulls away softly before resting his forehead on yours. "I love you" he choked "so fuckin much"
You huffed at his cuteness "I love you more Katsuki"
He places one more kiss to your lips, and nuzzles your nose with his.
"Impossible"
Pairing : Suna Rintarou x Reader Genre : Fluff a/n : I too want to kiss Suna on a tree
The summer sun cast a warm, golden glow over the neighborhood, where the sound of children's laughter echoed through the streets. You and Suna Rintarou had been inseparable since childhood, growing up side by side in the same quaint neighborhood. From the moment you could both crawl, you were already climbing the sturdy branches of the old oak tree at the edge of the park.
The tree was your sanctuary, a place where you could escape from the world below. Its branches seemed to beckon you both, offering a view of the entire neighborhood and beyond. The first time you climbed it together, Suna's small hand reached out to help you up, his determined expression showing no hint of doubt that you could do it.
"Come on, (Y/N)! Up here!" Suna urged, his voice filled with excitement.
With a mixture of determination and trust, you grasped his hand and pulled yourself up onto the lowest branch. From then on, the tree became your shared haven—a place where secrets were whispered, dreams were shared, and the world seemed just a little bit brighter.
As you grew older, your adventures in the tree became more daring. You would race each other to the top, daring each other to jump from one branch to another. Suna's competitive streak would always push him to take risks, while your laughter echoed through the park as you cheered each other on.
Even as the teasing chants of the neighborhood children grew louder— "Rintarou and (Y/N), sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"—you both found solace in the familiarity of the oak tree. Its branches became witnesses to your shared childhood, holding the memories of scraped knees and whispered confessions.
"You know," Suna mused one afternoon as you both sat perched on a high branch, legs dangling over the edge, "we should put a sign up here. 'Rintarou and (Y/N)'s Tree. No teasing allowed.'"
You laughed, the sound carrying on the breeze. "That would be nice. But they'll never stop, will they?"
Suna shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Let them talk. They don't know anything."
And so, the tree remained your refuge, a silent witness to your growing bond. Suna's quiet strength was a constant in your life, his presence grounding you even in the most turbulent times. He was the one you turned to when the world felt overwhelming, and the one who knew just how to make you laugh when you needed it most.
Years passed, and high school brought new challenges and opportunities. The teasing continued, now orchestrated by the Miya twins, Atsumu and Osamu, who took great delight in teasing you both whenever they had the chance.
"Hey, Samu'! Look who's here," Atsumu called out one day, nudging his brother. "Think they'll finally kiss in the tree today?"
Osamu chuckled, "Nah, they’re too chicken."
Suna glanced at you, his expression as blank as ever, but you could see the amusement dancing in his eyes. "Ignore them," he muttered, though his lips twitched into a small smile.
Despite his outward indifference, you knew Suna cared deeply. His quiet, analytical nature made him a master of observation, and he could read you like a book. He often found subtle ways to show his affection, whether it was saving you the best spot to watch a volleyball game or silently walking you home when it got dark.
One evening, after a particularly exhausting day of practice and relentless teasing from the Miya twins, you found yourself seeking solace in the familiar embrace of the oak tree. The park was quiet at this time of day, the setting sun casting long shadows across the grass and turning the leaves into a mosaic of gold and green.
You climbed up to the sturdy branch that had always been your safe haven. Moments later, you heard the familiar rustle of leaves as Suna joined you, settling beside you with a practiced ease. His presence was comforting, the silence between you filled with a lifetime of unspoken understanding.
"Remember when we used to climb up here to escape the teasing?" you asked, leaning back against the trunk.
Suna nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Yeah. Some things never change."
You both sat in comfortable silence, the memories of your shared childhood washing over you. It was moments like this that made you appreciate the quiet bond you had with Suna. He didn't need words to convey his feelings; his presence was enough.
You thought back to the countless times you had shared this branch, from watching sunsets to talking about your dreams and fears. Suna's quiet strength had always been a source of comfort, his steady presence grounding you even when everything else seemed uncertain.
After a while, you turned to him, a question lingering on your lips. "Do you ever think about…what they say?"
Suna's expression remained unreadable, but his eyes softened. "Sometimes. But it doesn't matter what they think."
He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. The simple touch sent a jolt of warmth through you, and you intertwined your fingers with his. You felt a sense of peace, knowing that whatever happened, you and Suna were in it together.
In a moment of rare boldness, you leaned closer. "Maybe…maybe they’re right."
Suna's eyes widened slightly, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of surprise. But it quickly melted into something tender. Without a word, he closed the distance, his lips meeting yours in a gentle, lingering kiss.
The kiss was soft and sweet, the culmination of years of teasing and unspoken feelings. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your secret spot. His lips were warm and soft, and the sensation sent a thrill through your entire body. You felt his hand tighten around yours, anchoring you in the moment.
When you finally pulled away, you saw a rare, genuine smile on Suna's face. His eyes, usually so reserved, were filled with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat.
"Guess they finally got their wish," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
You laughed softly, resting your forehead against his. "Yeah. I guess they did."
As the sun set, casting a warm glow over the park, you and Suna sat together on the tree branch, sharing a moment that felt like the beginning of something new. The teasing chants of childhood had brought you here, and now, they were nothing more than a fond memory, overshadowed by the reality of your shared feelings.
You stayed there until the stars began to dot the sky, talking quietly and enjoying each other's company. Suna's arm was around your shoulders, holding you close as the cool night air settled in. For the first time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be, and the future seemed full of endless possibilities.
As you climbed down from the tree that evening, you knew that things had changed between you and Suna. The bond you shared had deepened, and the teasing chants that had once been a source of embarrassment were now a sweet reminder of the journey you had taken together. And as you walked home hand in hand, you couldn't help but feel grateful for every moment that had led you to this one.
suna r. x fem!reader
Suna and y/n were high school besties, they did everything together and meant everything to each other—until he fucked things up. or In which a situationship doesn't work out (classic!)
⊹ ࣪ ˖ trope: situationship to strangers (not really) to lovers, university au, first smau
⊹ ࣪ ˖ warnings/disclaimers: kys jokes, ooc, cringey, swearing, sexual jokes, fluff, very little angst, might be a bit messy, ignore the timestamps
⊹ ࣪ ˖status: coming soon
a/n: this is my first ever post, fanfic, smau whatever you wanna call it so please be patient with me 😭 idk how this works
INTRO: we need help ʚɞ lovers4life
CHAP 1
I saw that the blue lock requests are open again (maybe?)
And...I'm just going to throw this here :
Threesome between Karasu/Otoya and reader. 🙏😔
they both drive me WILD thank u very much for this one
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dubcon (they've been clubbing so all a lil drunk!), threesome, pet names (sweetheart, doll, baby etc.), cumming untouched, throat fucking/oral sex (m!receiving), vaginal sex, slight use of a vibrator, choking, dacryphilia, noncon photo taking! — lmk if i missed any!!
words: 1.6k
“I d-don’t do this often…” you whisper, barely able to speak as two pairs of lips decorate your exposed skin in blooming blue love bites. Your skin pimples over from the chill as the air hits the licks and laves left by desperate tongues. Eyes roll pathetically until your eyes are nothing but white, your vision succumbing to the pleasure of being groped and manhandled by not one but two men. You hadn’t expected what was intended to be an innocent night out with your friends to turn into this.
“Yeah? S’that right? You've had two guys bring ya home before, sweetheart?” Karasu smirks as his hands dip to the small of your back; ultimately deciding to wander in an instant to grip the globes of your ass.
His hands have you reeling as you struggle to decide whether his touch is rough or soft. Perhaps, calculated. He strategically grabs and pulls you closer, almost hypnotising you into raising your leg to wrap around his waist so he can carry you to your bedroom.
Your apartment is silent save for breathy whispers, eager panting and footsteps as Eita searches for your bedroom. His walking halts, a grin and soft chuckle escaping his lips as Karasu gently spreads your ass whilst he holds you. Your body flushes with heat instantly as your sticky pussy following suit and spreading open soon becomes the loudest sound in the fucking apartment.
If you didn’t know better, you’d think there was an echo. The sound repeating incessantly with the sole purpose of humiliating you. It’s dizzying, really, you can barely keep your thoughts aligned as it rings through your ears again and again.
“I meant I don’t bring guys home often,” you say, finally responding to his question in a bid to distract them from the obscene lewdity dampening between your thighs. “I’ve never done this.” you assure them.
“Pretty pussy is soaked already,” Eita smirks. “Where’s your room, gorgeous?”
You point before looking away in shame, your chin soon gently captured by Karasu as he somehow manages to hold your frame with one arm and carry you to where you had pointed. He plants his lips on yours, humiliation soon becoming a distant memory as your hips instinctively roll against the hard on you can feel stirring to life in his pants.
Eita doesn’t shy away from rummaging through your bedside cabinet, distracting you away from Tabito as your attention is piqued. You yelp, quickly, as you feel yourself thrown from him and onto the bed. He eyes you hungrily as he begins to undress, purposefully taking down button after button from his dress shirt. Eita looks over his shoulder with a smirk before he faces you fully, bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue massages yours, and you whine into his mouth pathetically.
“Do you have anything fun we can use to play with you, doll?” he asks, attaching his lips to yours soon after. “If you don’t bring guys back here often, ‘m sure you’ve got some pretty toys.”
You shake your head softly though your skin burns again as you think about your little makeup bag in the top drawer. You’re distracted, momentarily, as Karasu climbs over you again. His pants still on, but unfastened. The peak of his underwear beneath the material makes you all too aware of the sweat beading down your temple.
“T-There’s a bullet… in the glittery silver purse in the top drawer.” you confess, wrapping you arms around Tabito’s neck as you begin to make out once more. You moan into it, it’s so whiny and eager as he begins to rut his hardening cock into your dripping clothed mound.
“Is that all? No wonder you’re so cock hungry if that’s the best you have…” Eita says calmly but retrieves it anyway. You’re barely listening to him, too lost to the feeling of Tabito’s body against your own. He breaks away to dip his fingers beneath the material of your skirt, patience wearing thin as he yanks the black cotton panties from your aroused core.
“Looka that… you’re fucking drenched, sweetheart.” he smirks. He spreads your legs apart roughly and effortlessly moves your body so that his partner in crime can get a better view of your shimmering flesh.
Eita grins as he retrieves the powder blue bullet from the top drawer. Your skin feels electric as you’re put on display, Karasu keeps your legs pried open and your cunt pulses with each breath you take. He’s a tease, too, kissing your inner thighs and taunting you with the notion of placing his lips where you need them most. It’s torture, hearing them both chuckle and tease you as your hole drools more of your tantalising essence.
You wince, but are almost entirely silent as Eita’s heavy hand wraps around your delicate neck. He squeezes, carefully, pushing a button on the vibe until it whirrs loudly. He lowers it to your sex but too far away to feel any benefit. It’s hovering just shy of your clit while he squeezes your throat almost lovingly.
The way they’re both riling you up, you think the way the vibrations adjusting the air currents may be enough to make you cum. He pushes you down by your throat so that you’re flat against the mattress, and your body instinctively begins to jerk.
“Think she’s gonna cum… we’ve barely touched ya, darlin’. Your pretty cunts twitchin’.” Karasu announces. His lips travel up your body and his teeth bite into the seam of your skimpy crop top, pulling upwards until your breasts spill free. He kisses the soft skin before his teeth gently skim your peaked nipple. And, at that, you moan raucously. Otoya still hasn’t granted you the pleasure of the vibration pressed fully against your cunt, and Karasu decides to fuel to fire. His fingers delicately dance against your inner thigh and the crease.
“Fuck!” you cry, their torment becomes too much. You cum practically untouched, your pussy spasming and clenching around nothing as you whine in ecstasy. They both laugh, almost cruelly.
“Desperate little girl… ya really are cock hungry, huh?” Karasu reiterates. “Think we should give it t’her?” you recoil as his heavy palm slaps against your tremoring heat.
“Mmm, move her, want her head hanging over the mattress.” Eita commands. You’re moved with ease, your head lolling over the side of your bed as he looks down at you. Even upside down, you can see a wicked gleam in his eye. He throws his t-shirt over his head and unfastens his jeans. Your eyes almost cross as he reveals his own hardened length.
He's pretty.
Every inch of him is pretty.
He pumps it a few times, pearlescent pre leaking from his slit before he smears it across your lips like gloss. He smirks when you lick them, a sensual bite following soon after as the taste stirs your arousal.
“Dirty girl,” he says. With one hand, he guides his cock into your mouth before wrapping his palm around your throat. He begins to thrust, finally lowering the whizzing vibrator to your pulsating clit. “Ah, fuuuck.” he moans as he feels your throat hum around him.
“Hey,” you flinch as you feel Karasu slap your tits. “Don’t forget who’s gonna cream your pretty cunt, baby.” he says smugly as he guides his thick length to your clenching slot. He throws his head back, the tightness of your warmth hugging him is a sensation close enough to paradise he’d be happy to die right here and now.
“She’s such a little slut, swear she clenched when you said you were gonna fill her up.” Eita smirks, biting his lip as he feels your throat bulge from each roll of his hips. He withdraws his length, cooing as you sputter and drool as he allows your breathing to steady.
You’re almost sobbing, tears spilling from your eyes as Tabito begins to fuck into you furiously, the little toy barely contributing to the overall pleasure you feel.
“Gonna take it, aren’tcha baby? Gonna be my li’l cum whore.” he asks, fingers gripping into your sensitive skin as he continues railing you at a ruthless pace. And you nod, desperately, it’s all you can do as the heady feeling of bliss overwhelms you.
Otoya soon deprives you of your airways again, missing the feeling of your wet throat choking him.
Your body writhes as you feel another orgasm desperate to rip through you. Otoya has abandoned the pathetic little bullet in favour of his own pleasure, it’s all he was ever concerned about anyway.
Karasu moans, almost roaring as his primal instincts take over. He chases his release, and Eita does the same. They can’t help but laugh as you are the first to succumb to it, your little body spasming between them as you get off from being nothing more than their fuck toy.
You feel warm fill you at both ends, Karasu pants heavily as he withdraws his length and watches his seed spill from your cute little hole. Otoya grins as he hears you once again sputter around his length, he pulls away and can’t help but admire your absolutely ruined face as cum dribbles from your lips. Your mascara has smeared so beautifully, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more captivating sight.
“Wasted my cum, baby… at least you look cute.”
Instinctively, he pulls out his phone to take a picture of you. Karasu follows suit, taking a multitude of photos of your leaking hole.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. They’re jus’ for us.” Karasu assures you.
Eita squeezes your cheeks until your lips pucker, they’re so swollen and shiny from spit and cum, your little pout has aided to his favourite photo of the night.
“Good job, pretty girl… not through with you though. I want a turn with your slutty little cunt.”
© 2024 rinhaler
pairing ⸺ ghostface!sukuna x reader
summary ⸺ on halloween night, you get a strange phone call from a man with a distorted voice right as you're chilling while babysitting yuuji. you get an ultimatum: perform for him, or risk your and yuuji's lives.
warnings ⸺ smut, fluff (at the end), pre established consent but dub con just in case, cream pie, lots of degradation and praise, “good girl,” oral sex (m!recieving), recording and pictures, suggested infidelity (but it’s not actually infidelity), exhibitionism, reader gives him a show in exchange for her life, rough sex, semi-public sex, established relationship, mdni, pls help me find artist for credit :(
kinktober masterlist | general masterlist
you stretch, yawning as you adjust the blanket you had on you to cover you and give you warmth on the chilly october evening. gazing forlornly at the balcony window outside, you see kids and college students alike in their halloween costumes visiting homes for treats and bars for booze, respectively. tonight was a night you were supposed to get dicked down by your boyfriend in the bathroom of a frat, but you’re stuck instead with a last minute call to babysit yuji because he’s sick.
you love the kid too much, like he’s your own baby. which is why you couldn’t refuse playing babysitter, even if that meant forgoing pictures for your instagram with the slutty angel costume you had bought a month who in anticipation of halloweekend. instead, you’re tucked in and cozy, watching scream for the nth time just to fangirl over how hot ghostface is.
so you’re in your tank top and boy shorts, relaxing and chilling (that is, as much as you can while locked in on your movie). and, as if on cue, the moment the phone rings in the movie, the itadori household’s phone number gets a call.
you jump at the noise, a bit on edge because of the movie and definitely regretting the idea of setting the living room pitch back in spirit of mood lighting. groaning (albeit a bit freaked out), you get up to answer the call, as yuji babysitting protocol required that you answer any call in case it may be an emergency.
picking up—but a bit on edge—you drone, “itadori household, how can i help you?”
there’s heavy breathing on the other end and you hate your scaredy cat tendencies because your heart is picking up at the distorted and low pants. “h—hello?”
“hey.” the voice is low, just like the breathing, and for a moment, you hate your brain for immediately recalling the nsfw audios you watch to masturbate because the guy on the phone sounds exactly like them. it’s a little freaky that you’re getting such a weird fuckin call at this time, but regardless you persist, in case this was relevant. you kind of need this job.
feigning cheerfulness, you ask, "what can i get ya?" as your fingers absently toy with the thin strap of your tank top. the cool air from the nearby vent sends a shiver across your skin, but the silence on the other end of the line is more unnerving. you're met with nothing but heavy breathing, and each exhale seems to scrape against your eardrums.
shifting uncomfortably, you feel the sweat beading at the nape of your neck as impatience builds. your fingers tighten around the receiver. "are you gonna talk or should i hang up?" you finally snap, agitation bleeding into your voice.
but before you can slam the phone down, he speaks.
“what’s your favorite scary movie?”
a groan escapes you, the kind that rises from deep in your chest, exasperation overtaking any lingering nervousness. "look, buddy, this is soooo corny. like, i was literally just watching scream, so you’re not doing shit. if you wanna prank call a girl, try somewhere else because—"
“you got a boyfriend?”
“i do,” you quip back quickly, a hand on your hip as you stand straighter, eyes flicking to the doorway of the kitchen. shadows dance in the dim light, your heartbeat subtly picking up pace. you move to hang up the phone, more irritated than frightened now. “so you better not try anything funny and waste more of your time, you fu—”
“but he’s not sleeping upstairs with the kid?”
the world freezes. you pause, the phone hovering mid-air. what did he just say? your pulse quickens, each thud louder than the last as dread claws at your chest. "what?"
a laugh, deep and guttural, slithers through the receiver. it’s the kind of laugh that makes your stomach drop and your legs feel weak. his voice is smooth, velvety even, and it curls around your ear like smoke. despite the creeping fear, something primal makes your thighs clench involuntarily. “okay, now that i’ve finally got your attention, let’s try this again. what’s your name, baby?”
that word—baby—the way he drags it out, rich and slow, makes your heart stutter, even as fear wraps tighter around your ribs. you grip the edge of the counter, nails digging into the cool surface. “why do you wanna know?”
“so i know who i’m looking at.”
the room spins. your breath falters, shallow, barely there. it’s like the walls are closing in, and your throat feels thick with fear. you lick your dry lips, throat tightening painfully. “wha—what do you mean?”
a soft coo hums through the phone, mockingly sweet. “no need to be afraid, pretty baby. you don’t want the kid upstairs to die, do you?”
your blood turns to ice. the words don’t make sense at first, but when they do, it feels like the floor’s been yanked out from beneath you. your mind races, every nerve in your body screaming. “what the fuck? is this some kind of prank call? this isn’t funny.”
but the man just continues, as if he didn’t just say something so horrifying that your stomach churns. his voice remains steady, eerily calm. “the kid, how old is he? five, six? he’s dozin’ off in those stupid iron man pj’s of his.” you swear you can hear his smile through the phone, a wicked curl of satisfaction. “and i love those shorts on you. parading your ass around like the slut you are. how’d your boyfriend leave you alone tonight?”
the walls feel like they’re closing in. a cold sweat breaks out across your skin, and suddenly the room feels too small. your eyes dart toward the darkened stairs. every creak of the house becomes louder, sharper. the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you swallow, mouth dry as cotton. it feels like someone is watching—someone who shouldn’t be there.
for a second, you digest the information he’d bestowed upon you—information about yourself. not-so-subtly freaking out, you get out a “please, please don’t do this.”
“then gimme a show. follow what i say.”
“o—okay. what do you want me to do?” you’re trembling, your realize, in your fear. or was it arousal?
“come closer to the window,” the voice purrs. you tentatively walk up to the balcony window facing the itadori garden, awaiting instructions as you stand shivering with the chill of the air.
“now,” the voice instructs, “take your top off. gimme a show, alright? better see that fucking back arch when you’re talking it off like filthy stripper slut you are.”
you whimper in humiliation but follow his instructions anyways, slowly becoming more and more of a slave to your arousal, caused by his assured and suave voice. when you take your tank top off, back arched just like he asked, the man groans and you hear distant squelches on the other side of the line.
“good girl. now when you take that bra off, pull up your cups, but don’t take it off, leave it bunched. those tits better bounce for me.” pulling up the cups of your bra, your tits recoil and bounce and the squelching gets even louder as you feel eyes rove over your tits. “fuck, i love those tits. get on your knees and bounce em for me like you’re riding cock.”
you clench so hard as you move to do as he says. part of you is soooo aroused to be forced around like this, so you’re easily giving him the show that he wants, getting on your knees and moving your chest so that they start rhythmically bouncing, synced up with the squelches you hear in the other side of the phone.
“stick your tongue out. drool on your tits.” you moan, your tongue lolling out as a glob of spit starts trailing down your body.
“fuck!” he exclaims, aroused by the sight. “you like being bossed around this baby? like my little bitch?”
“no!” you sob, tears springing out at the utter humiliation you were experiencing. “please let me go, please don’t do anything to yuji!”
the voice chuckles. “really? i think you’re lying, baby. i know that pussy is wet while you’re giving me a show. matter of fact, why don’t you show me? make sure i get a really good look at that cunt, okay?”
slipping your shorts off, you turn so that your backside is facing the lawn and uncover your traitorous pussy—glistening wet—to him. taking a few steps back, you breathe heavily—like the person on the other side of the phone—as you press your pussy against the glass, the heat and humidity originating from your inner walls fogging the area on the glass. you hear a snap! on the other side, indicated that he had taken a photo. eyes widening in panic, you ask, “what are you doing? please, i’m doing whatever you wa—”
“i can’t let everyone think you’re some innocent virgin, can i? parading your ass and pussy for me, when anyone in the neighborhood can see? matter of fact,” and you start panicking at his next words, “i’ll post this online if you don’t grind that ass back for me.”
you swallow and start to do as he says. the glass is cool as you rub your folds along it, your slick dirtying the glass as you move your folds on the glass door. of course, the glide isn’t smooth—your clit keeps catching on the glass, but the fact that you’re bare to the world, any stray eyes being able to see you on display arouses you to no extent. you’re ashamed of being aroused at having to perform for a stranger, but you continue regardless and clutch the phone in your hand as he speaks to you again.
“the fuck you so wet for?” the voice mocks you. “you get off on this shit?”
“fuck you,” you moan, continuing to rub yourself. “i hate you.”
the man laughs meanly. “for someone you hate, you’re getting pretty wet for me, baby.” the sounds of him stroking his dick are even louder as you grind against the door at the same tempo that he moves his hand at, grunting as you continue moaning into the mic. “look at how you’re clenching—good girl. want me to come in and make you cum?”
“real fucking cocky,” you hiss into the phone, “really fuckin cocky of you to think you can make me cum. with the way you had to threaten me, i just know you have a micro.”
as soon as you say that, the call hangs up and you look at your screen in confusion. that is, until you feel hands on your bare hips, knees–covered in black fabric—pressing against the junction between your thighs. “say that again,” the voice whispers.
you turn, eyes wide and heart speeding up as you turn to see the very figure that showed up in your movie. reminiscent of the killer, a tall man in a mask is hunched over you, now moving his hands to grip at your hands. “let’s take this to the bed, shall we?”
“oh shit,” ghostface curses, continuously snapping photos of your lips, the flash going off in the dark room. “look at this,” and he brings the camera closer and closer to your pussy, using his other hand to spread your lips as you helplessly lie on the bed, forced to spread your legs for him. “this pussy clenches everytime the flash goes off!” and he’s laughing, mocking you as slick leaves your hole in drops as the utter way you’re being humiliated. he grabs your cheeks roughly with the hand that was spreading your nether regions, squeezing them together and focusing the camera on your face. “this is the slut i’m going to fuck. gonna suck my cock, right?”
“mhm,” you whimper, resigned to your fate. making quick work of his robe, he takes them off completely, still leaving his mask in place. as he uncovers his pelvis, your eyes immediately rove over the hardened muscles on his abdomen. there’s a pink happy trail leading down to his dick, which is furiously red and standing. he grabs it, pumping the length as he moves closer and closer to your face until his precum is smearing against your face.
“fuck,” he curses, as he takes in the sight of your teary eyes looking up at him dumbly, lips puckered as he slaps his cock against your cheeks until your cheeks are turning red. you’re giving kitten licks to his tip every time he alternates between slapping your two cheeks, not knowing what do to with yourself except focus on your oral fixation telling you instinctively to suck his cock. he then uses his fingers to pull your mouth open and slowly feeds his cock inside, eyes rolling back as soon as he feels your warm breath and hot tongue encompass him.
you’re sucking at his tip and alternating between licking the rest of his dick, and he’s lost in the tight, wet heat of your mouth hollowing around him. you then prop yourself on your knees, using your hands to grab and play with his balls, stimulating him even more and causing him to rip out of your mouth and growls, “on your hands and knees. now.”
he doesn’t give you sufficient time to turn around and fully adjust in your position as he’s slamming into your roughly, the wet plush of your pussy too enticing. because you didn’t see it coming, your face is smushed against the pillow, and he grabs at your hands, using his free hand to hold them together at the small of your back.
“you like my cock, baby?” he pants, sweat beginning to run down his torso. when you don’t respond, he lets go of your hands to smack you consecutive times on your ass. “answer me.”
“i love it sooo much,” you babble, too lost in the pleasure to form more coherent thoughts as you ramble. “it’s splitting me—oh my god.” your eyes roll back—in pain or pleasure, you can’t decide—as his cock kisses your cervix. the masked man keeps thrusting in you, the sounds of his hips smacking into yours echoing throughout your room in a series of plap plap plap’s.
“yea? fuck, i’m so close. you wanna live baby?” he grabs your hair and pulls, giving you a sloppy wet kiss on your cheek. “let me come inside. you’ll let me dump my cum in you, right?”
you only clenched tighter at his words. “please,” you sobbed. “please come inside. please paint my walls. i want your cum so bad.”
you were so close, staving off your orgasm until he filled you up. at your words, the intruder laughed mockingly and kept thrusting into you, but the telltale sloppiness of his hips indicated that he was close. “god, what a slut—” he was interrupted by his own climax, and as soon as the thick ropes of cum filled you, you came with a squeal, your back arching impossibly further as your thrashed on his dick because of the intensity of your orgasm. both of you rid it together, panting as you came down.
he pulls out of you, and before you can catch your breath, the man flops his entire weight on top of you, making you laugh as you let out a startled exclamation, “ryo!”
you squirm beneath him, trying to push him off, but it’s futile. he’s far too big and heavy, and he knows it. with a low, lazy chuckle, your boyfriend, sukuna ryomen, removes his mask—tossing it carelessly onto the floor—before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. his breath is warm against your skin, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as his chest rises and falls in rhythm with your own.
“did you enjoy that stupid thing you wanted, brat?” he mumbles, slightly panting in exhaustion.
his words are snarky, but you can hear the affection laced beneath them. your heart swells with a sudden rush of warmth, the fondness you feel for him almost overwhelming. it’s moments like this—where he does something ridiculous just because you asked, despite all his grumbling—that remind you why you love him so much.
you wrap your arms around his broad back, fingers trailing lazily up and down his spine as you press a soft kiss to the top of his head. “you didn’t have to go all out, you know,” you whisper, smiling into his hair. “but i really appreciate it. you’re kind of the best, even when you pretend you’re not.”
ryomen grunts, but there’s no bite to it. he tightens his hold around you, his large frame practically cocooning you in warmth. you feel his lips brush softly against the skin of your neck, a tender gesture that contrasts with his usual roughness.
“yeah, well... you’re lucky i love you, freak,” he murmurs, voice low and husky. despite his usual bravado, there’s something undeniably soft in the way he says it, as if the words are meant just for you.
you hum contentedly, feeling the weight of his body press you into the mattress. it’s comforting, like being wrapped in a warm blanket. you trace circles on his back with your fingertips, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, where it’s just you and him—no roleplay, no teasing—just the quiet aftermath of love.
“lucky, huh?” you tease back softly. “i’d say we’re both pretty lucky.”
ryomen huffs a quiet laugh against your skin before lifting his head slightly to look at you, his dark eyes soft in the dim light. then, he gets up and makes a move to walk out the door. at first, you thought he was heading towards the bathroom door to give you a towel to clean you up, but he’s heading towards the door—soft cock swinging, butt naked—and you’re only left in confusion as to what he’s doing.
“ryo, where are you going?”
“fixin myself a sandwich, i’m hungry,” he grumbles over his shoulder, leaving you dumbfounded. you’re left sitting on the bed as he continues the trek down the stairs to satiate his post sex hungries.
“hey!” you shriek, “your balls are out! what if yuji sees?”
later, when yuji walks deliriously into the kitchen to see his uncle’s cock and balls, he almost wishes he could fully succumb to his fever.
kinktober masterlist | general masterlist
a/n hehe i love fluffy sukuna. consider joining my kinktober taglist if you'd like!
taglist:
@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae
@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto
L.O.V.E. ୨୧ EREN
“when we die, i hope i will be the first one to go,” you whispered through the silent night you and eren enjoy.
you felt his body freeze as you declare those words.
both of you were lying on the grass as you two watch the fading sunset on the horizon. she’s painting the sky red as she confesses her love for the dense skies.
he hummed. “and why is that? you giving up already?”
“no,” you say. and that’s true. you’re not giving up. “i still have so much to fight for. but when that time comes, i hope i’ll be the first one to go.”
he kept quiet. eren didn’t know what’s going on inside your mind. you’re unpredictable. reckless, impulsive, and stubborn. you’re also efficient, reliable, and protective.
your family died during the first invasion of the titans and he always see himself in you. your fiery rage, your desire to burn the world if it means avenging your fallen clan. he wanted you. he wanted to swallow you whole. he wanted to devour your very being. he wanted to set himself on fire and burning every fiber of his soul if it means for you to walk this world with warmth and lightness.
“because i don’t think i can live a life without you, eren.” you looked at him with glistening eyes, tears threatening to fall like snowflakes against your soft cheeks.
you placed your hand on his cheeks and smiled. “and if one day the heavens decided to finally have your life, i would willingly go. i would trade my entire soul if it means for you to live the life you deserve, because out of everyone else here? you deserve to be the happiest, eren.”
you stare at the sunset giving farewell to her lover, promising to meet again like the first time. “i’ll wait for you there because the kind of love i have for you transcends beyond the life and death we always knew.”
Animals - G.S.
Synopsis. Yes, your best friend is secretly an alpha. Yes, he acts like a fúcking anímal when he rúts. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alíve.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! Gojo, rúts, best-friends-to-lóvers, creampíes, bréeding, GOJO’S POWERS, knots, MARATHON SÉX, overstím, knots, MATÍNG BÍTES, cúmplay, OMÉGAVERSE AU, pússy-spánking, héats tríggered, semi-public, matíng press, oraI (fem), slight bondagé, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 7.0k (uh-oh)
A/N. Nanami always gets the short end of the stick LMAO, anyway hope y’all have the loveliest week <3
“Satoru, you’re being strange.”
Granted, Gojo Satoru acting weird wasn’t anything new.
Especially not when he’s two hours deep into the most droning meeting you’d bribed him into attending as of late - knee bouncing, fingers tapping, head turned towards that firmly shut door like he just wanted to escape. Needed to.
Then again, even you found your attention waning. Finding whispering with your best friend much more interesting than whatever latest mission statistic Yaga had to present.
“M’doing just peachy, sweetheart.” Gojo smiles - but it looks stilted, pained. And even through his blindfold, you already knew his snowy brows were furrowed. “Who’s the one not listening to ol’ man Yaga now?”
You scoff, narrowing your eyes down at his figure beside you - draped over the cool mahogany table as if he owned the place. “Well- you better not be faking sick to get out of this meeting. Again.”
He only hums, “Don’t worry your pretty lil’ h-head about it, m’kay?”
With a final, tired rub at your temples, you’re turning back to Nanami to ask for all the world where Yaga was on his fifty-page report now-
And then, it hits you.
Suddenly.
Something smells sweet.
Like candy - particularly that sugary, strawberry-flavored kind you’ve had to tell Gojo off on more than one occasion for eating too many of. Tilting your head just a bit, you think you could also catch hints of honey and pine, such a strange, hypnotic combination.
“S-Satoru…” your words come out in a syrupy gush, feeling your head whirl.
“Hm?”
And despite yourself, you’re taking in deep, heavy inhales of the air surrounding you. Hungry. Mouth salivating as that heady, perfumed whiff clouds up all your senses. “Do you- hah- what is- do you smell-”
“Ngh- no?” he’s cutting you off with a barely-audible groan, one you probably wouldn’t have even caught if your abilities weren’t so sharpened right now. Gojo’s movements seem sluggish, languid as if he was moving through molasses when he raises up one hand to massage the back of his neck.
You can only watch as his head droops down onto the long table with a wince.
Strange. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have almost thought-
No, there was no time to be entertaining wild conspiracies. Because at this very moment you’re too caught up flitting through the dates of all your previous heats in your mind. Urgently.
Three weeks.
Your next heat wasn’t due for another three weeks. So, sure, you didn’t take your suppressants just yet but, that really didn’t matter, did it?
It wasn’t normal for jujutsu sorcerers to be anything other than a beta - and as an omega, you knew firsthand just how difficult it was to fight tooth and nail just to be able to sit at this table.
Historically, any other faction of society would rather be caught dead than outed, and have their second gender be taken advantage of by the very curses you were supposed to exorcize. Forced to face the stigma of alphas and omegas being too “unstable” or “vulnerable” to be trusted with missions.
This was the very thing you’d been trying to avoid ever since you argued your way into studying at Jujutsu Tech - losing control.
Especially now.
But god, you were burning up. It smelled so sexy.
And, taking a sweeping glance around the table of betas - at your fellow sorcerers, those grim elders, and your disheveled best friend - that left only you to explain the scent.
You were only thankful that their noses weren’t as powerful as yours. Clinging onto this as a saving grace, with a shaky gulp, you gently nudge Nanami on his side. “Hey- Ken?”
“Yes?” And maybe it was the heat - whatever this was - but Nanami’s deep baritone sends shivers down your spine, and you find yourself leaning in traitorously closer to his heated body. His jaw ticks, “Is something wrong? You look…”
“Satoru’s also-”
“So what?”
Without warning, one of his hands comes to splay out across your forehead. Just a mere touch has him sucking in a sharp gasp, “You feel warm, I think you have a fever. You can’t continue the meeting like this.”
You shake your bleary head in protest.
“I won’t let you.” Nanami’s voice hardens with a tone of finality, and yet, you still find yourself trying to whirl around to look at Gojo. Maybe for help, maybe for a distraction to escape when your colleague speaks again - this time directed at Yaga. “Principal Yaga, it seems my dear friend here is sick.” Circling an arm around your shoulders to pull you up from your seat and onto weak legs. “If you’ll please excuse us, I will escort-”
Nanami stills - everything stills.
Everyone stills when his voice tapers off with a ragged grunt, and you feel his chest heave in unsteady breaths. So close now that you can mark the exact moment Nanami’s eyes widen, “Are you…”
Shit.
Shit shit shit-
“Wait.” Yaga’s voice bellows reproachfully. “Is this- That smell-” But even he can’t find the words, slumping back down into his seat.
Truly, the scent was so saturated now, so primal that even the most stubborn of unmated betas were sneaking peeks at you. You bite your lips raw at another glossy gush from your already-heated cunt. It was so embarrassing - your heats have never acted like this before, let alone come three weeks early.
Sure, perhaps that one time on your very first day at Jujutsu Tech itself - which was embarrassing by itself. And, yet, your mind had never been clearer than it was right now.
Eyes sliding over to a familiar, trembling mop of white hair - never been needier.
Fuck, what was your delirious self thinking-
As if drawn by an invisible string, Nanami’s inching impossibly into your hot proximity, hazel eyes falling half-lidded when he takes in a deep whiff. Grumbling, “My love-” Another. And another. Nose almost grazing your pulse now, “-you’re in-”
Slam!
“Out.”
It’s a threat.
That was the first thought that slammed into you, and then the voice continues, slow, snarling like a predator on the edge of ripping something to shreds. “I won’t repeat myself.”
Before you finally understand, it’s a command.
There’s one strong hand around your front, pinning you against a sculpted chest. Something about it has your pulse booming in your ears, fingers clawing at that pale wrist at your shoulder. Yet, he doesn’t even flinch.
Nanami, however, reluctantly detaches his hands from your body, and you finally have enough strength to look towards the origin of the words. Only for your glassy gaze to meet with a towering Gojo Satoru standing at his full height - when did he even get up?
Jaw clench, sharp canines bared, blindfold dangling haphazardly around his neck - ah, he looked like a man that crawled from hell and back simply to take you all along with him.
With you at lucky number one.
First in his line of sight. Close enough that you can finally smell him.
Oh.
Oh.
And you swear you saw his eyes tint with the faintest blue lightning when your own scent perks up. Boring into you for just a millisecond before narrowing his gaze down at a stupefied Nanami, cracking the kinks in his neck. “Unless ya wanna watch.” He bares the rest of the room with his flooring glare, “Unless all of you want to watch.”
It’s chaos.
They understood - perhaps long before even you did.
Chairs clatter, the desk trembles, and that safe haven of the door is swung open. That weezing council of elders are first to stumble over one another into the hallway, Yaga following shortly with a wordless sigh.
Until the only ones left are you and him - and Nanami.
Blond brows raising, his eyes flit frantically between you and a possessive Gojo. Sputtering out, each word jagged, and dry as if they’re being wrenched from his chest. “What is the meaning of this- We- I thought you were a- a beta.”
Everyone did, and Nanami was speaking what your mind couldn’t right now.
Gojo Satoru always presented himself as a beta - never affected by your heats, never disappearing once every few months for his ruts as you remember Suguru did. He always seemed so normal - perhaps the one thing about him that was. Unaffected by the stupid little trials and tribulations of alphas and omegas in sorcery.
But it was undeniable, he was an alpha.
And taking a deep inhale of his saccharine sweet perfume - so overpowering - he might just be the strongest you’ve ever encountered. How fitting.
“You thought.” Gojo’s voice was clipped, rumbling with a low growl that sent electrifying shivers down to your very cunt. And his tone just makes Nanami jolt. “And I can’t right now so I- fuck-”
Gojo’s body wracks with a violent shudder, making him hunch over - with you in tow. His hot breath puffs out in feverish pants near your ear, abs clenching as another velvety wave of pheromones emit from him.
You mewl when your body is jostled in his toned arms, nudging the very curve of your ass - tight uniform skirt hiking up just enough - so that you push in a slow drag against something rock-hard. Massive. Weeping out in a sticky damp spot that seeps into your skin.
“Hah-” you’re gasping, face swirling to nose up the crook of his neck - where the candied scent was most prominent. “Toru–”
There’s a gasp - and it’s not from you this time.
Both you and Gojo are snapping your dazed heads upwards at a frozen Nanami, his hand shooting to cover his nose. Eyes wild- “I-”
Before thinking better of it, it seems like Nanami opted to keep some part of his sanity as he abruptly turns on his heels without a second glance backwards. Marching robotically, the only moment he stops is once he’s at the doorway. One hand tugging on his suddenly too-tight pants, the other on the doorknob. Eyes still trained forwards when he calls out gruffly, “Don’t break the table, insurance doesn’t cover it.”
SLAM!
Finally alone.
Your vision swims - is the door even locked? Is this- God, you feel hot. So hot - too hot.
And Gojo’s burning up, arms wrapping around you so tight that you could feel the way his skin flushed with a thin sheen of sweat. He breathes out into your ear, “My pretty girl…”
“Oh sh-shit–” you’re whimpering, big fat tears welling up behind your eyes. And without wasting a second, as soon as it splatters hotly on your best friend’s skin, he licks a long, lazy stripe to lap at the hazy saltiness. Babbling away, “Feel so dizzy hngh- and you- you’re an alpha?”
Honestly, part of you still didn’t want to believe it.
But as soon as he husks out a gravelly moan, as soon as his tongue dips down a wet pathway to the scent gland on your neck - you already know you won’t be making it out of this alive. “Why did you hide it from me?”
“Mhm- fuck! m’sorry.” he grunts into your skin, slightly muffled. Nipping ever-so-slightly, “M’sorry m’sorry- had to- my sudden rut made my- hah, made my pretty omega go into heat, didn’t it?”
His soft palms glide down your trembly body, greedily kneading every dip and curve that comes his way. He’s lost. So, so lost.
Plastering his lips down every inch of skin he could reach, that sweet scent sticking to you like a sloppy second skin. And you can barely even think when you feel his swollen dick just twitch behind you, a fresh wave of swelteringly hot precum sloshing right through your silken skirt.
You whimper when you’re rutting messily back and forth, and he drags a thick thumb to pry your spit-glossed lips open. “Aww, poor baby. Tell me- fuck tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
And all you can really give him right now is a circular swivel of your hips, which evidently wasn’t enough.
Because Gojo’s furious tip only hardens, and he hisses with a slight tug up your skirt. Cold fingers dancing ravenously up the edge of your drenched panties, gliding the very rounded tip of his index slowly across your sopping slit.
“Tha’s not enough.” he snickers, and suddenly you’re hit with another wave of emanating pheromones. Enough to make you just slobber a glistening coating all down his long digits. “Use your ah- w-words like a big girl now. Because when I start…” His teeth find your earlobe, and his fingers find themselves planting a dripping wet slap! across your puffed-up clit. Unwavering. Unapologetic. “I won’t be able to stop.”
“Please, Toru.” That cute little nickname makes him jump, makes him throw his head back with a low moan. Brows scrunching together as if pained. “Don’t want you to stop-”
Maybe you were going to say more - maybe you would’ve called him that nickname and driven him even crazier.
But Gojo doesn’t wait to find out.
In one, fluid motion he’s picking up your body into the easiest princess carry you two would’ve laughed at if this was one of those romcoms you watched together. Just splaying you out on your back across the cool table, he situates himself in the perfect position between your legs.
Oh, how he loved this view. How he’s spent so many ruts just like this imagining this view.
“F-fuck- You have no idea how- how crazy it drove me.” rasping groans drag out from his throat, strained with every slow drag of his cock down the front of your now-see-through panties. “How wild-” You’re nearly screaming when his canines dig in to that soft spot underneath your ear. “-to pretend I didn’t know you smelled so hah- so fucking delicious.”
And then you feel him still - alert, ready.
Chest heaving, an almost chilling tone dipping into his words when he spits, “Except when you smell like him.”
Your jaw falls slack when the temperature in the room heats up another few heady degrees, and the sheer power of your two scents mixing together is almost maddening.
“He- he? Toru, what do you-” you’re gasping out in tiny huffs, while he busies himself with biting and licking down your exposed neck. Enough to leave you smeared all over with marks. “Who- Kento?”
“Oh, sayin’ another man’s name when you’re with- fuck- me?” Gojo’s bucking powerfully into you, his body was pinning you down. Scorching, now. “Such a naughty omega- I should kill him for how he touched you.”
Truly, his alpha was fucking clawing at him to trek out of this room right now and finish off the job - but, no, you were too hypnotic. And Gojo Satoru, the strongest, was no match for you.
The wet thwack of his fingers once more kisses in a rude smack against your clit, making you squeal. Ringing across your thundering ears, he swears at that broken, blissful noise from you. “Fuckin’ oh, would ya let him see you like this, too? Let him touch you like th-this?”
And Gojo looked so starved, velvety blindfold tickling your chin when he leans in close. Lips ghosting your own - but not quite. You’re suddenly brought back to the very first thought you had - that this is about to be a bloodbath.
“I wouldn’t–” you bite back in your honeyed tone, and you can feel your omega just purr in satisfaction. “N’ it’s not my fault that someone-”
Smack! Harder, sprinkled with tiny bolts of electricity.
“Correct.”
It’s breathed out into your mouth - a quick, hedonistic peck. Gojo just taunting your sanity before he’s pulling away with a gruff string of profanity, like it hurt him just as much as it did to you.
You feel your slick dribble down into a saturated puddle below you. And the mere sight of it makes Gojo just reel his hips deliriously forwards, grinding his massive bulge across your dripping cunt until you could see it soil a fountainy dark patch on his pants.
“F-fuckin’-” his eyes roll to the back of his head at how hot you were. How pouring wet. Wrangling your quivering legs painfully stretched open, “-woman of my dreams.”
With two, thick fingers hooked over the hem of your skirt, it’s being torn off in an easy pull. Falling somewhere in a pile of impractical tatters onto the meeting room floor, along with your shirt.
And as soon as it’s off, Gojo’s only growing more feral. More hungry.
He’s drooling from one corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t even notice at this point. Honestly, barely even realizing the burning pain when he falls to the floor on his knees. Clattering haphazardly, insatiably nosing up your jittery inner thighs.
“Oh sweetheart- oh my pretty girl. My pretty, pretty girl–” he’s breathing out, head lolling drunkenly against your legs. And Gojo gulps when he spreads your panties away with a wet glide of his thumb, just enough to see your messy hole winking up at him eagerly. All soaked and needy. “M’gonna have so much fun being yours.”
He kisses wetly through your panties - without warning, without even breathing. Just surging his pretty face into the heated crevice between your thighs, taste buds on his pinkish tongue grazing up the soaked fabric.
Like he was addicted.
“Oh- oh my god-” you’re mewling out, lower lip wobbly at every sultry swirl of Gojo’s tongue over your pussy lips, painting your messy hole in every mesh of slick and spit he could conjure up. “It feels too- hah–”
You were always so sensitive during your heats, every single one of your senses heightened to the max. So it made your mind all overwhelmingly melty inside to have his steaming hot mouth on your equally ravenous cunt. Hungry.
Yeah, he was addicted.
Dragging a few fingers in-between your glistening folds, scissoring them shamefully open to spit. Once. Twice.
Some of it splatters strayly onto the start of your thighs, which Gojo glady licks up all over again to stream out a thick wad back onto your silt. Until your cunt was drooling translucent dredges of everything he has to give, he smears his messy thumb in easy rotations around your clit. Filthy.
“So gorgeous- so good f’me.” Gojo titters, biting down teasingly on the very edge of your panties. And he can’t hide that fucked-out little groan when pulls it back, back, back to just snap! it meanly right on your cunt. “Fuck- you taste as s-sweet as you smell, mmm–”
You’re yelping when his long tongue draws a slow circle around the edge of that first ring of muscle, just barely pushing back against how your gummy walls are trying to hug him. To milk him for everything he has.
“S-such a tease-” you whine, fingers tangling into his cloudy white hair. Soft - the silken tresses smoothed over your palm, slotting between your digits when you pull his mouth roughly onto your pussy. “Jus’ want you on me- ngh!”
“Ohh ya can still t-talk easy, huh?” Gojo raises an amused brow from in-between your legs, that won’t be possible soon with how he’s going to have you. “Well then, don’t you dare beg me to go easy on you, girl.”
And he keeps the panties on - fuck, he keeps the panties on when mashing those ragged, rosy lips of his in a steamy make-out with your cunt. It’s as if he was breathing you in, so close that you could feel every clench of Gojo’s jaw, every grind of his chin into the very base of your pussy.
“Sh-shitttt-” he spits, stray wisps of white covering his eyesight. Dragging you on his tongue through pure instinct. “Shit wait- ah you’re so fuckin’ so-”
Unable to even finish his sentences with that usually-sharp tongue of his. No, that tongue right now was too occupied with the steady, repetitive drag along your snug channel. Bullying into your sodden sensitive spots, thrusting back and forth back and forth back and-
And his fingers, oh those infamous fingers were straying back onto the sensitive nub of your clit. Drawing tight, tempestuous circles that have you keening at the dual stimulation, thighs stuttering to an embarrassed close.
“Open.”
It’s just like before - and Gojo’s using that annoyingly baritone tone of his that hits you at your very core, that makes your omega snap open your legs for him.
Even you’re surprised at how pliant your body acts before your mind right now - and so is Gojo. though, his expression doesn’t show it, every bit of that feral animal that scared everyone out of this room not too long ago.
“That’s it- that’s it–” he can’t hold back, hands glued to the globes of your ass to pin you still against his mouth. “Ha- so fuckin’ different when ya listen to me, so fucking sweet.” Breathing in deeply, “Were ya giving off this scent so Nanami could do this, too?”
Thwack!
Another mocking slap against your clit - not enough to make you cry, but with just enough buzzing jujutsu to make your batting lashes teary - forces you to find your words.
And fuck, Gojo swears there’s no sweeter music than the sound of your voice - especially when you’re moaning like that.
Voice breaking into a whine, accompanied by a few raw clenches of your pussy around his furious tongue. “N-no fuck- don’t know-” your hips arch into the most perfect curve he’s ever seen. One that makes his mouth water, cock straining against his pants. “Toru- jus’ want you, wanna cum- wanna- want you so bad.”
Fuck - and who was he to not go along with each and every one of your pretty whims?
Pussydrunken already. He’d read about this - but he really had no clue how potent an omega in heat was, never having spent a rut with one. That little special occasion was always saved for you but, ah, that was a story for another time.
“M’gonna cum- hah- so- close-”
Right now, he couldn’t think of anything other than how gorgeous you would look when you cum. How delicious - your sweetened scent raising up by a few notches, taking over his sentences.
He feels his cock just throb at the mere thought.
Which is why Gojo’s pulling away with one final, sodden kiss on your pussy. You feel the curvaceous curl of his smirk against your cunt, and a deep, filthy inhale.
“Nah.” he smiles a glistening smile up at you - grin glossed all over with a sheen of your sweet, sweet juices. And the rest of his face was almost-obscured with a curtain of his white bangs, but you still think you could peek the glow of his inhuman eyes through them. Powerful. “Don’ think you’re c-cumming anywhere other than on my knot first, pretty girl.”
And he’s so tall that Gojo’s blocking out the dim meeting room lights when he stands up - slow, smug, making you spend each passing second in such anticipation.
Face expressionless - almost hypnotized - when he shrugs his shirt off. Lips parted into a soft oh! eyes half-lidded, heaving he slides his belt off almost lazily.
It clatters! to the ground, and he’s sliding down his drenchingly wet boxers with it - leaving a gleaming trail of precum down the front of his toned pelvis. Letting his achy cock finally spring free, he hisses when it hits the too-cool air.
And you do, too - though, for much different reasons.
Because Gojo’s so unfairly big - fitting, for an alpha of his stature. Blushed the prettiest pink at his rotund head that matched his cheeks right now, gradiating down into creamy tufts of white at his thick base. Showing the starting of his knot swelling. It made you wonder whether he tasted as sweet as he smelled. So hard it looked painful, curving into a long, solid shaft that glides a wet smear across his washboard abs. It makes your omega just preen, rabid to have him inside you right now now now-
“Heh, impatient lil’ thing, aren’t ya, sweetheart?” Gojo huffs out in a heady bout of laughter. “Can practically feel yer omega ngh- calling out to me, is this what you want?”
You claw ferally at the milky display of his back, branding him in your own way. “Yes- please-”
A sudden rip! makes you realize you still had your panties on - up until a few seconds ago, at least. Jostling him ever-so-slightly closer, you mewl when the rounded tip of his angry cock nudges against your pussy lips. Melding into a slight kiss that already makes him stream steaming hot ropes of precum.
And if you were in any better state of mind maybe you’d have noticed the way the light above flicker, fizzing with electricity just as much as you were right now.
“Heheh- oh y-you made me like this, ya realize?” he chuckles out - but his voice didn’t show even a hint of humor. It’s like he was out of control, out of rationality with each languid drag in-between your folds. Babbling, “You threw me into- fuck fuck fuck this is all- your-”
Honestly, Gojo’s so utterly shocked he managed to grit even half that sentence out.
Because every sloppy second has him grinding upwards in the tiniest of ruts into your sung cunt, tiny, mindless grinds that make a low ah! ah! ah! rip from his throat.
“Open that mouth f’me, sweetness-”
As soon as you do, you’re feeling a thick, glossy stream of saliva slosh onto your lolling tongue. Mouth wrenched shut until you swallow - and you do. Happily. Filthily.
That’s enough to make Gojo lose it.
And he’s plunging headfirst into your toasty insides, shoving back that tiny bit of resistance before your elastic walls are milking him so well. Greedily swallowing up every one of his generous inches, and it only seemed like more was to come.
“Oh shit- ohhh sh-shit-” His eyes are rolling to the very back of his head, mouth hanging open, that tiny trickle of drool splatters onto your skin.
“T-Toruu—” your cunt was addictive, and so were those moans of yours. Craning your neck upwards, “Kiss me, please.”
For a second, he’s leaning in - making it seem like he was about to smear that firmly placed gloss all over his lips onto yours. But Gojo only sneaks a peck at the corner of your mouth, then the other - and then one on the tip of your nose.
“I will I will-” he’s musing, giggles bursting from his lips. “Once we’ve mated, can’t get too greedy at once now? Can I?”
But oh how his actions spoke otherwise, because Gojo’s powerful hips absolutely refused to stop until he was well and fully buried into the hot depths of your cunt. Sheathing himself in all your soppingly wet walls, the sheer tightness was enough for him to throw his head back, heavy balls squeezing. In and out in and out.
“Ohhh fuck-” Two hands of his roughly attach themselves to your hips, pitching up your needy whines when he drools down your pussy even more thoroughly. “You sure do make it f-fuckin’ hard though-”
You whine when your ass hits against something bulging and hot, whirling those dazed eyes of yours down at the intrusion.
“Shit-” you’re gasping, eyes widening. And the sheer awe in your eyes is enough to make him grow, blood pumping to every thick inch of his cock until he was expanding even girthier, molding your pliant walls to his size. “That’s your knot- I-I-”
“I-I-I-” Gojo mocks, in a voice octaves higher than usual. Fucking the rest of that sentence with a harsh roll of his hips, knocking bruisingly at your cervix. “C’mon now ah- tell me- you can t-tell me anything.” Kissing softly at your ear lobe, zaps of jujutsu making you jump. “M’your best friend, right?”
How ironic.
All you can gift him in response is a few soft whimpers that only make him wilder.
“Fuck!” you’re keening when another one of his slams leave you gasping for air, feeling like he was clashing into your very womb. Glissading a deep, wet glide of his fat, curved tip across your spongy cervix, his breath hitches at the slight recoil. “I want it-”
Your words make him almost falter with his ruthless pace, and you take it upon yourself to just drag him down by his muscled shoulders. Until he was hunching over you, abs flexing against your front, “I want your hah- knot in m-”
And you can’t even finish the sentence - you don’t know if you want to.
Because just that syrupy jumble of words is enough to make Gojo Satoru snap.
To cut you off with a rough growl, teeth bared at you, in a split-second he has you limp legs thrown over his shoulder. Biceps flexing in such a mouth-watering way when he makes them lock at the ankle, bending down, down, down into the meanest little mating press your joints would allow.
The change in angle has you scrambling - has him scrambling to crash his leaky head into your swollen g-spot. Hitting that bulging bullseye with no regrets - over. And over. And over and over and-
“Oh, marry me sweetheart.” he’s panting into your mouth. His pulsing girth rummaging your insides so good, dragging every ridge and thumping vein on his shaft against your sweet spots. He was so big that you felt like your syrupy cunt had already forgotten what it felt like without him pounding into you. Suckling wetly at the corner of your lips, “Marry me marry me- oh, fuck- gonna give you m-my knot. Don’ think I could go on hah- l-living without ya, pretty.”
He was feral - eyes glowing a blazing blue, sparks of lightning bolting down his milky skin. And you swear with each speeding cadence of his, the lights flickered on and off.
Every slippery smack of his tight, cum-filled balls has you seeing stars, yearning for the additional burning stretch of being plugged by his knot.
You’re throwing your arms over his neck, reeling him in like he was your prey, though his hips were devouring you. “W-we’re not even dating and you want me t-to be your hngh-”
“-wife!” He kisses every inch of your face, down your neck, over that soft scent gland of yours - now so overstimulating his senses with your sweet scent that he’s almost forgotten what his own smelled like. Buzzes of electricity skimming down your skin with each touch. He’s groaning, “Be my wife- please- fuck, I need you to be my wife.” Planting an almost-french kiss on that one sweet spot. Once. twice. “M-my mate- sh-shit-”
And you already knew Gojo was close with the way his pretty eyes are almost fluttering shut, the way his hefty balls clamp. Twitching in desperation, his thickened base pumps in even deeper - harder. As if he was trying to rut every single inch into your clingy depths.
Every single inch.
“Mhm–” you moan, feeling the staggering stretch of his even hotter cock shape your walls. “I wanna- wanna be your-”
You don’t even bother finishing your sentence - and neither does Gojo let you.
Because it only takes a few more sloppy jackhammers before he’s finally sinking his taut knot into you. The stretch is so insane you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head, being plugged so suddenly full.
And then you’re hurtling headfirst into your high - toes curling, white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes, your spine bowing so sluttily into his. And Gojo-
Oh, Gojo had his mouth sagging open the moment he felt his massive knot intrude against your silken sweet walls, stretching that snug channel around all of him. And he wishes he had the willpower to look down at the heavenly sight, he wishes he could do anything but sink his teeth down hard into your precious scent gland as he cums and cums and cums.
The lights burst, shards deflecting off the limitless he’d coated over the both of you.
Teeth breaking skin, metal tasting on his tongue, scents tangling together into one now.
You do your best to bite him back on his heady neck, breaking through Gojo’s milky skin to reveal a set of pretty pink indents.
Finally yours. Finally his.
“O-oh, pretty girl–” he hiccups, voice cracking. Hips not moving even the tiniest second of momentum while he stuffs your tight pussy full of his potent seed. “My wife- my mate.”
And Gojo almost bawls when the tight lock of his knot prevents him from plunging into you as deeply and thoroughly as he wanted to right now. Sobbing down big fat tears that splatter! against your lips while he kisses your mind dizzy.
You could feel the syrupy slosh of his cum inside you with each one of his dragged-out grinds, milking your orgasm for as long as possible. Unmoving. Unapologetic in how he was spitting out such voluminous loads of milky white seed that overfilled you.
“Shit- so much-” you’re whining, still clinging to him. And you don’t think he even hears you right now, mind blanking. “I feel so full, Toru-”
But you didn’t have to babble out those words for him to know, somehow, he just knew. Knew every single thing about you, but couldn’t dredge up the words to respond.
Too pussydrunken to do anything but bite you on your scent gland all over, he kisses a wet trail up to your lips, “Now you- really hafta m-marry me heh.”
Bang!
Gojo’s fist comes crashing down on the rickety table - it’s too much for him.
Those ringing squelches and the way you were sucking out every single drop of his cum makes his sensitive shaft twitch. Tears blimping up into his eyes again, more and more velvety ribbons ooze out. “My wife- my wife my wife my wife- my mate-”
It’s just about all he can say - like a mantra. Over and over against your lips, until the peaks of your pleasure turn into mere tingles, until Gojo’s own knot is softening down. Slightly.
Just enough that he can pull out-
“Toru, what-”
“Shhh, pretty girl-” He’s kissing your puffed-up clit with another spank from his trembly fingers, and then an actual kiss. Mouth slotting over the mess he’s made below. Grazing all over like a creamy gloss. Filthy. “Rut’s just started.”
His ravenous tongue drags out your overstimulated high, and you’re clinging onto a lock of his snowy hair for dear life.
“Please-” you beg, voice shot. You don’t even know what you were begging for, but god was Gojo Satoru happy to let himself be used. “Please please please, Toru-”
Oh, his fingers tighten on your thighs - imprinting neat patterns of crescents. Animalistic, in how Gojo just drags your twitchy body forwards.
His eyes were drooping shut, gaze crazed - frantic where he looked you right in the eyes from down below. Head craning to ram his stretchy tongue even deeper, quirking up deftly like he’s wanting to bruise his taste buds along your walls.
Slurping at and collecting the creamy mess on his tongue - only to spit it back into your sloppy hole. Messy.
Even with the dark, lightless room - with only those stray sparks of power to accompany you two - such loud squelches echo across his own ears. And just by the noise Gojo could tell how wet you were - as if you weren’t drooling over the lower half of his face, up to his cheekbones, already.
Sticking to your inner thighs in an obscene drip! drip! drip!
It’s so shameful and you love it.
And you love that you’re so cockdrunken that you aren’t even sure when you’re cumming - if you’re cumming. Whether those sudden crashes of pleasure were because of your nth orgasm tonight, or because of the way Gojo kisses you with another thwack!
Adrenaline and electricity coursing through your veins, ears thundering with your rapid pulse. Oh god, you never knew a heat could feel this good - this maddening.
You moan, and he’s eagerly lapping up every sweet bead of slick you have to offer, like a man that hasn’t had an ounce of water in weeks. Brows furrowed, jaw sagging open-
“Shit shit shit-” he’s rasping out, and the very slide of his fingers across your skin sends waves of powerful jujutsu - somehow bunching at your clit just right. “M’cumming- m- m’still cumming fuck- won’t- stop-”
Just as soon as your orgasm is ending, Gojo’s is just starting. Like he’d been holding back on this from the moment he’d started eating out your overspilling pussy - happily.
And exactly on time, too, because you barely even have the time to catch your breath before Gojo’s standing on his two unsteady feet. Just splitting you open on all of his red, raw inches - uncaring for your little mewls and those tears.
Because you were sucking him up madly.
Spearheading his swollen cock into you like he was trying to fuck another orgasm out of you. His strokes are long, harsh, showing off all the years of strength he built up boasting the title of the strongest.
And this hastily put-together mating press has his cum just overspilling out of you by now, dribbling down in wet globs that made you wonder how much more he could fill you up. It seeps in a white circle underneath your ass, slicking you back and forth along the wood at each harsh ram.
Again. And again. And again and again and-
“Made me this- hngh- this way, y’know?” he spits into your mouth - followed by a slurred string of swears. Every time his heftily smacking balls clench, you could feel the table creak under pressure. “Sat next to me with that fucking skirt- smelling so fucking- ngh- good- do you even know how delicious ya are?”
You can’t answer - because he’s back to squeezing in his staggering knot into you. Sparks exploding out from the corner of his scrunched-up eyes, forehead knocking into yours.
Gojo kisses you like he couldn’t get enough, letting you taste all the sin from just before.
“Three weeks away, huh?” That accusatory little inflection in his words isn’t lost on you, only growing stronger and stronger as his staccato grows sloppier. “Have your- hah- heat in three weeks and fuck- I could just- smell it on you-”
It’s incredible. Sliding your frenzied bodies across on another, stinging with skin-on-skin and how your gooey walls constricted around him.
“Showing off in that scent and that skirt-” His eyes are almost bulging out of his head now, hips stuttering like just the very thought of that pile of fabric at the corner of the room drove him mad. “-fuck that skirt- always fuckin’ hated it. Hated how Nanami loves hngh- it. Made me lose fucking control a-and you know what?”
One of his hands curls around your throat now, the other taking hold of your left - kissing your ring finger pointedly. “I’ll do it all over again if it means I’d get to have ya like this, my mate.”
And just then he’s coating your melty insides in a creamy sheen, that overworked divot right at the end of his dick was firmly pressed up against your g-spot. Plugging you with his knot, and you swear you could see a little inflation forming where he was filling you to your limits.
Cumming and cumming so hard it’s like he couldn’t stop - didn’t want to stop until his body practically forced him.
Gojo’s biting down hard exactly over those deep indents on your scent glands when his gushing spurts of seed turn into almost-painful blanks.
Over and over, he’s cumming nothing.
“L-love you, Toru-” you’re babbling out, reeling him in to peck the corners of his smirking mouth.
Utterly fucked out of your mind enough that you don’t even register the loud boom! from somewhere in the distant grounds of Jujutsu Tech. Barely even care that the overpriced meeting table is now sagging on one side, just about in splinters.
“Aww, m-my c-cockdrunk baby–” he titters shakily into your glossed-pout. “Love you, too, always have always- will-” Patting the bulge on your stomach, before kissing you gently, “Ever since I th-threw ya into heat the ngh- first time ya met me.”
Oh.
And later, you’ll learn that that almost-deafening boom was the generator for Jujutsu Tech, mysteriously bursting after a sudden spike in atomic pressure in the surrounding area. You’ll find out that every piece of furniture in the surrounding buildings had moved about six inches in your direction, and that the now-ruined table was an irreplaceable heirloom.
But for now, all you register is soft.
Warm.
With a gasp you realize you’re in a bedroom - Gojo’s bedroom.
“Did- did you teleport-”
“Mhm-” he pants, and in the dim lighting you could spot his leering grin. Satisfied. Pussydrunken. And you could feel his knot swell up hotly, halfway through to its previous size.
You sputter, trying so desperately to find the words. Difficult, when Gojo still had you wrapped around his thick cock, all the way up to his fat, drenched base. Swiveling his cock in slow, sultry grinds for how much he couldn’t ram exactly how he wanted to right now. “Wh-why didn’t you do this before–?”
“Because-” he licks over his mating mark on you. “-wanted to show off what animals we were.” His grin grows wider, as does his tired cock. And that dangling blindfold around his neck ends up around your wrists, tying you up pliantly for him. “What animals we will be.”
---
Right now, all Nanami can think about is you you you- Yet,he doesn’t expect to see you for about the next week. Or, at least, that’s the hopeful side of him - knowing Gojo, and the state he’d left the meeting room in, he won’t see you again for a month.
Possibly not walking.
Perhaps, that’s for the best. Looking down at his swollen, throbbing cock - one fist wrapped around its thick base, the other around his shaky phone, he clicks on that familiar app.
Shit, his rut is near. Now, actually.
Nanami sighs, it’s hard pretending not to be animals.
A/N. Was soooo giggling writing about how the table was some heirloom.
Plagiarism not authorized.