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Haha… yeah… that’d be crazy…

DUSK ‘TILL DAWN. [ masterlist ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

CONTENT / WARNINGS. 

➔ explicit smut (minors dni.) fem! reader. minimal fluff. modern royal au. drama. lovers to enemies. toxic characters. toxic relationships. angst. gaslighting. emotional manipulation. mentions of murder, alcohol, substance use. infidelity. royal politics. love triangles.

STATUS | fanmade playlist

➔ ongoing, very slow updates

PAIRINGS.

➔ suna x reader (main pairing) kiyoomi x reader (love triangle) oikawa x reader (slight)

TAGLIST.

➔ closed + ageless blogs interacting will be ignored / blocked. 

CHAPTERS.

001. [ you are in love. ] 

002. [ tears of gold. ] 

003. [ gorgeous. ] 

004. [ déjà vu. ]

005. [ how do you sleep. ]

006. [ no peace ]

007. [ someday ] 

008. [ lavender haze ]

009. [ about you ]

010. [ wildest dreams ]

011. [ lacy ] 

012. [ mastermind ]

013.

014.

015.

016.

017.

018.

019.

020.

[ EPILOGUE ] 

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

Just the tip

One Shots about our favorite Adult trio and Y/N in different "Just the tip" scenarios.

Illumi Zoldyck

Her fingers dug into the soft black T-shirt as she gently pushed her hips over his lap. She tried to look into his dark eyes while he tried to avoid her gaze. He knew he couldn't say no when he looked into her beautiful, large eyes. "Please Illumi, just the tip, please..." Damn, now he had looked up. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and the first tears were already welling up in her eyes. She was absolutely enchanting in his eyes. And it was difficult for him to deny her a wish. But they had already talked about it and had come to the conclusion that it just wasn't quite right yet. She wanted to pursue her job as a Hunter for a few more years and, above all, consolidate her relatively new relationship with him before she started planning a family. And it was universally known that "just the tip" never remained "just the tip". And her opinion on the whole child topic as well as the fact that they had run out of condoms and were not using any other form of contraception, was making his life really difficult right now.

But what was he supposed to do when she was sitting in his lap and literally begged him to give her "just the tip"? She was just so damn horny and he found it so hard to stand firm. And maybe he just rolled his eyes and grumbled something quietly to himself that sounded a lot like "needy brat". But deep down he just wanted to throw all resistance overboard, because for him there was no better idea than to finally pump her full until her belly was round and her breasts were heavy and full of milk. He just wanted to give free rein to his breeding kink, which never was allowed to see the light of day until now. His otherwise emotionless dark eyes now seemed almost to blaze as they fell on her full lips, which were slightly parted and from which soft gasps escaped while she was still grinding against him. Faster than she had thought possible, he had rolled her over until her back was pressed against the soft sheets and he was on top of her. He slipped his hand under the old T-shirt she used to sleep in and found two things. Firstly, no underwear and secondly: "You're so wet, love." It was impossible for her not to moan softly as his fingers slid between her pussy lips and teased her lightly. "Want my cock that bad?" She nodded frantically and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him sliding his jogging bottoms halfway down his thighs, freeing his cock. She couldn't stop her mouth from watering when she finally got to see it. Long and grithy with a slight curve to reach each of her spots perfectly. Drops of pre had formed at his tip, which was already slightly reddened. He pushed her thighs apart to create more space between her legs for himself and also pushed up the t-shirt to finally get a glimpse of what would eventually be his personal downfall. His long, slender fingers travelled back up her thigh to her centre to make sure she was ready for him. But she needed no further preparation. She was so wet that he could see her juices wetting not only the inside of her thighs, but also the bed sheets beneath her. His fingertips brought whimpers to her lips, begging again for more. And he gave her exactly what she wanted from him. The tip of his cock, swollen and reddened and leaking, rubbed against her entrance while he played with her clit. He threw his head back and couldn't suppress the deep humming in his chest. Meanwhile, she moaned loudly and tried to push herself away from the bed and get closer to him to finally have him where she longed for him. His hand gripped her hip and held her in place so that she couldn't move any further. "Stay still," he mumbled softly. But he only achieved the opposite. She braced herself against his hand and tried to push him away so that he would finally come closer.

"So impatient, love." His gaze was fixed on her expression. The way her lower lip was pushed forward because he hadn't yet given her what she wanted. The single tear that ran down her cheek. He didn't even realise that she had wrapped her long legs around his hips and crossed them at her ankles. His cock slid deeper into her and the soft exclamation of his name was like music to his ears. He thrusts into her gently and listened to the soft sounds that escaped her. She was so needy today that the knowledge that only he could provide her with this kind of satisfaction made him feel warm inside. "What me to fuck you that bad love?" he asked. A nod and a few gasping breaths were all she could say in reply. And who was he to deny her that wish. A cry escaped her as he sank completely inside her with one hard thrust. He was so incredibly deep that she felt him push against her cervix. He found a hard and fast rhythm with which he buried himself in her again and again. He watched as her eyes rolled back and her hands eached around until they found his shoulders and grabbed onto them to find some sort of support and brace herself for his pace. He felt her literally suck him in, her warm walls gripping him and making it difficult for him to pull back.

It was unrestrained. Just reduced to lust and her urges. Messy. Without a condom. She could see it in his eyes, just as he could see it in hers. There was no coming back from this. For both of them, there was no better feeling than this. Without a barrier, skin on skin. He knew that he would never again be able to live without letting his bare cock slide in and out of her warm cunt raw. As quickly as they had brought up "just the tip", they had also thrown it out the window. Forgotten as soon as he fucked her on purpose. Buring his shaft inside of her right down to the hilt. All caution was lost in their lust and need to feel each other and listen to his name slide over her lips again and again like a mantra as her pussy pulsed around him and seemed to literally suck him in. He watched as her back lifted off the bed and her body shook as her orgasm swept over her. "Fuck, shit...!" Illumi closed his eyes as he felt her almost milking him and he tried to penetrate her as deeply as he could. He felt the distinct tugging in his stomach and heard the roaring in his ears that showed him that he was ready too.

The thought of pulling out kept coming back to him and he was determined to maintain at least some semblance of control. Because at least one of them had to remain rational and think about how they had come to an agreement. But no matter how good the arguments were to pull out, it couldn't beat the feeling of finally fucking her without protection. Her lewd noises grew louder and louder as the grip on her hips tightened and the rhythm of his hips became uneven, turning her first orgasm into a second. A hiss escaped him as he tried to fight the stuttering of his hips and pull out. But her pussy just felt too good and while inside him his breeding kink was still fighting against the good reasons of pulling out, she finally made the decision for him. The grip of her legs tightened, not letting him back off, keeping him exactly where her lust-fuelled brain wanted him: Between her legs and deep inside of her. A long drawn-out "fuck" escaped him and echoed through the room while he could no longer prevent his own orgasm from overtaking him and allowing his sperm to flood her pussy.

Hisoka Morow

She had agreed to accompany him to the event. Her job was just to look nice next to him, smile nicely and make small talk. And she totally regretted going along with it. There were a lot of older gentlemen at this event, who lost interest in her after a few lecherous glances and brief exchanges of phrases as soon as they realised she was here with the crazy magician. She couldn't blame them, really. She could feel the fear spreading through the men as soon as they realised. And it was justified, Hisoka was dangerous. Still, she was disappointed. Without anyone to talk to, she was bored to death. She wasn't close to the few people present who were her age and not that afraid of Hisoka. She had discovered members of the Phantom Troupe and Illumi too. But she didn't have a point of contact to engage them in conversation and they were more interested in talking to Hisoka and didn't give her more than a few quick glances. So she sat next to Hisoka and was bored.

She tried to occupy herself for a while by trying to recognise patterns in the tablecloth in front of her or by counting the tiles on the floor. But she didn't last long before her eyes wandered around the crowded room again, longing for something to do. Hisoka didn't pay any attention to her either. He was far too engrossed in the conversation with Chrollo and Illumi, who had the seats opposite them at the table. She knew that she had to do something if she didn't want to be stuck here. And she knew a method that would definitely help her to lure Hisoka away from this event and get him home. And to get her plan rolling, she first took a quick trip to the toilet, only to return to her seat next to Hisoka just a few minutes later.

She slid her hand under the table onto Hisoka's thigh. She felt the muscles under her fingers tense up for a moment, only to relax again shortly afterwards when he realised that she was merely drawing small, random shapes on his thigh. With her fingertips, she felt the muscle strands of his leg, which were still rock hard even though he was sitting completely relaxed next to her. Her fingers travelled upwards from his knee before pausing halfway up and then finding their way to the inside of his leg. She let her fingertips circle there too before placing her entire palm on his leg. With gentle pressure, she caressed his thigh before venturing further and further up. Her fingertips brushed against his crotch and after a short wait, she dared to slide her hand further until it covered him completely. She could see Hisoka watching her out of the corner of his eye, but without interrupting the conversation with the other two men. She gave him a slight smile that spread into a grin as he sank further into the chair, spreading his legs wider to give her more room. Her hand quickly found a comfortable position as she slid it over his crotch again and again, feeling him slowly harden beneath her. Only a short time later, her fingers slid a little further up until she found the button and zip of his trousers and undid both.

Her hand slipped under the fabric. Now only separated from him by his boxer shorts. As she continued to massage him, she could see him swallowing hard and his breathing was a little faster than usual. If you weren't paying close attention, you wouldn't notice, but she had a feeling for him. She heard the slight excitement in his tone as he spoke to the other two because his words came out a little more stretched. He was telling them about a fight he had coming up in the arena and she chose that moment to slip her fingers under the elasticated waistband of his boxers and finally feel his hot and hard cock for real. Her fingers slid over the soft head, catching the drop of pre that had formed and rubbing him in agonisingly slow strokes. She could feel it pulsating as she continued to massage him. She knew him well enough by now to know that it wouldn't be long before he came into his boxer shorts. And probably to avoid that, Hisoka's own hand slid under the table and grabbed her wrist to pull her away. She allowed it, but before he had a chance to straighten his clothes back under the table, she placed her hand over his and guided it to her own thigh. Just a moment later, she had navigated his hand even further until his fingers were under her dress. The cool satin fabric was a stark contrast to her naked and hot centre. She had taken off her panties in the bathroom so that he now met her pussy lips, wet with her own juices. She bit the inside of her cheek to stifle the slight moan that escaped her as his fingertips finally made their way to her entrance. She gripped his wrist tightly and thrust her hips forward as she pushed his hand towards her centre until two of his fingers finally entered her. She couldn't stop her soft walls from tensing and pulsing as she finally felt something of him inside her. She pushed her hips towards him in small circular movements, holding his hand until she had the feeling that he wasn't going to pull away. Only then did she push her own hand back into his boxer shorts and grasped his cock as tightly as her pussy was gripping his fingers.

Faster than she could react, Hisoka had stood up, pulled her to her feet and positioned her in front of him. At the same time, he turned to the two men, who looked at the couple in surprise: "You'll excuse us for a moment, we have to go and say hello to someone." Before the others had a chance to reply, Hisoka had already pushed her out of the hall in front of him and only stopped at a door down the corridor. He yanked the door open, pushed her inside and then closed the door again behind him. She didn't even have time to look at the room before he had turned her around and pinned her against the door. "Fuck Pet, be good and let me come," he murmured softly as he pressed his lips to the sensitive spot under her ear. She couldn't suppress the smile that spread across her face as she thrusts her hips towards him. "I didn't stop you, did I? You could have come then and there at the table." She could sense that he was getting really desperate, chasing towards his orgasm the way he was grinding against her thigh. "Not in my boxers, you know what I want" he was still panting against her ear. His breathing quickened by now. "How could I, you'll have to tell me Hisoka." Her hand slid between their two bodies, freeing him from the last piece of disturbing fabric before her fingers closed around him again. "I need your pussy, darling. Need to feel you around me, want to pump you full so the old peeping geezers here know you're mine." With slow movements, her thumb circled his slit, playing with the soft head before she pumped him again in slow movements. She savoured his throbbing, the slight desperation she could hear in his voice. "Why should I let you? You ignored me the whole evening and I was bored. You promised me a nice evening and you didn't deliver. So do you really think you deserve my pussy?" Soft moans reached her ears as he thrust his hips towards her to at least urge her to move faster. But she took her time. They both knew very well that he could actually take what he wanted, as he was much stronger than she was. But she had him wrapped around her little finger and made him do what she wanted. "Just the tip Y/N. Please, just the tip, that's all I want." He pressed light kisses on her neck and her collarbone. His warm breath stroked her skin as he gasped "Please" over and over again. She pushed him away from her to turn her back to him. Her fingers dug into the soft fabric of her dress as she pulled her skirt up so that it billowed around her hips. She spread her legs and leaned forward to finally give him a glimpse of her pussy. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she caught his dilated pupils and flushed cheeks. "Okay, just the tip and then at home you'll fuck me properly." She had barely finished the sentence before he had bridged the distance between them and penetrated her with the thick head of his cock. "Anything you want darling," he gasped as the tightness of her pussy mesmerized him and he poured himself inside her.

She had won.

Chrollo Lucilfer

He knew he had to have her the first time he laid eyes on her.

That day, he had sneaked through the dark alley, looking for someone connected to his next coup. She had walked past him in her white dress with a pretty smile on her face. She was so radiantly beautiful, like a bright light in his darkness. And he couldn't get her out of his head. So he did what he did best. Gathered information and hunted her down to make her his. And so he met her again. He had found out that she was a guest at a charity event organized by one of York New's wealthiest persons.

He had arrived before her, sat down at the bar and watched her descend the stairs. Her hair was artfully tied up and the red dress she was wearing made her shine. He wasn't the only one who had noticed her arrival. Both men and women around him eyed the beautiful young woman and he could hear the murmuring and whispering that went through the crowd. When she made her way to the bar after a while and a few rounds of small talk, he saw his chance. He immediately engaged her in conversation, which was not difficult for him. He was charming and had been told many times before that he had a way with his words. And Y/N was glad that someone had finally approached her who wanted to have a conversation with her that went beyond mere small talk and the exchange of meaningless phrases. Someone who wasn't just interested in her money. Oh, if only she knew what he really wanted from her... She was lively and talkative. And the more champagne glasses he handed her, the more trusting she became. He could probably have asked her for all the login details to her bank accounts and she would have given them to him. Instead, he listened to her as she confided in him about her life and suffering. Among other things, she told him about the upcoming wedding next week. That it had been planned by her parents and that she had only seen her future husband twice so far. That she was very much looking forward to her married life because she wanted to fulfill her duties as a daughter and wife to be conscientiously. She was a good girl who always followed the rules and wanted to make her family happy. Chrollo sensed that the alcohol was slowly making its effect. So he seized the opportunity. "Let's find a quieter room, love, then we can talk better," he suggested as she sipped her champagne. Without thinking twice, she nodded: "Yes, it's really very noisy here." He could hardly believe his luck at how trusting she was. He offered her his arm she smiled and as soon as she hooked her arm around his, he led her out of the ballroom and into one of the small guest rooms at the other end of the corridor.

While he closed the door behind them and locked it inconspicuously, she made herself comfortable on the bed. The alcohol had made her cheeks rosy and her beautiful eyes had become slightly glassy. The radiant smile still adorned her face as she waited for him to finally take a seat next to her on the bed. Slowly, and with a deliberate steps, he closed the distance. The mattress gave way slightly beneath them as he sat down. He leaned his back into the soft pillows and made himself comfortable. The soft laughter that rang out next to him sounded like the most beautiful melody to him. "Tell me more, love," he asked her. And so she made herself comfortable next to him and talked about her upbringing, her childhood and her pets, and then again about the man she was going to marry next week. As she talked, Chrollo listened attentively and casually let his hand wander over her thigh. She only paused her story for a moment before blessing him with her radiant smile again. The way she spoke so passionately, using her hands to paint the picture for Chrollo and how relaxed she sat by his side, made his heart lose its rhythm and it skipped a beat for a moment before he could regain his composure. "I'd like a nice house, it doesn't have to be big but cozy with a little garden where I can grow some vegetables. And then maybe..." She couldn't finish the sentence. Because in a split second he had sat up and turned towards her, then he had already pressed his lips to hers.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she slid her hands between their bodies until she could rest them on his chest. She tried to push him away, but he was stronger than her and didn't give in. But when he held her face with both hands and gently caressed the soft skin of her cheek, she no longer wanted to push him away. She found herself enjoying the gentle kiss. She thought he was a nice and attentive man. And she also found herself wishing that he was the man she would marry. She would like to live with him by her side. A happy life. Images of a shared house with a garden flitted before her inner eye. Maybe a dog, definitely three children. She hesitantly returned his kiss, opening her mouth willingly when the tip of his tongue tapped against her lower lip. She allowed his hands to wander down from her face, his lips following them until they paused at a point just below her earlobe. A shiver ran through her as he pulled the soft skin between his lips. She felt like she was getting goose bumps. She wanted to look, but her body no longer seemed to obey her. Instead, she tilted her head, giving him more space to caress her neck.

She allowed his hand to close around her breast and when he began to knead it lightly, she leaned towards him eagerly. It felt so good. No one had ever touched her like this before and she liked the slight tingling sensation that ran through her body. She liked it so much that she could become addicted and above all didn't want him to stop. So she leaned towards him, pressing herself against him until he pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders and the soft fabric billowed around her hips. He pushed her into the pillows and climbed over her until his hips found their place between her legs. His mouth never left her body, but he moved lower. So deep that he could suck her nipple between his lips. She knew she was supposed to stop him. Knew she shouldn't be doing this. She wanted to save herself up for the husband she would have next week. But it just felt too good. And when he bit down lightly, she could no longer suppress the moan of his name. He smiled at her as he let go of her breast and shortly afterwards went for the other nipple. Heat gathered in her belly and when he took one hand to gently knead the free breast, her lower body twitched. Her abdomen collided with him and she felt a hardness between his legs that hit that one spot perfectly, sending lightning bolts through her body. She moaned his name again and clung to him. She didn't know if she was trying to push him away or if she was pulling him even closer. All she knew was that she didn't know how this all worked, but it felt too good to stop him. Besides, she wasn't even married yet, she tried to justify the behavior to herself.

She felt his hips pick up her pace, rutting against her. His lips let go of her breast, releasing her nipple with a soft pop. He straightened up on his knees and looked at the young woman beneath him. Her hair had begun to come loose and her hands had moved to her breasts to cover them. She was even more beautiful in his eyes. He knew that the sight was etched in his mind forever. His fingers closed around the hem of her dress, pulling at it, and she helped him take it off by lifting her hips. She was now lying there in just her panties, while he was still fully clothed. He seemed to be able to tell from her face that this bothered her a little and added to her insecurity. So he slowly undid button after button of his shirt until he let it slide off his shoulders and onto the floor. Then his fingers slid down his muscular torso until he came to a stop at his belt. She watched as he undid it and then slipped out of his pants. He stood in front of her in just his boxer shorts, his bulge prominent. He was long and thick, she could tell from the outline. He seemed like calmness personified as he stood there smiling at her.

She knew what that meant. That he wanted to have sex with her. And as much as she liked that tingle inside her, she knew it was something that couldn't happen. She couldn't let herself be tainted like that. She wanted to go into marriage as a virgin, the way girls like her should. Untainted and pure. He could see worry darkening her eyes. Her doubts were clearly written on her face. She sat up, scrutinizing the wicked grin on his face. "Chrollo, you know we can't do this. We can't go all the way." Her voice small as she looked at him through her lashes. She now had her arms crossed in front of her chest and looked so incredibly vulnerable. The innocence she radiated made his cock throb with excitement. "Don't worry, love. That's not what I want" he murmured softly as he climbed back into bed and over her. "There's another option." Her eyebrows drew together, irritation spreading across her face. "Huh?" He knew she didn't know any better. That she would believe what he would tell her next. "Yeah, if I just put the tip in, then it doesn't count," he whispered softly in her ear as he lavished kisses on her neck. Sucking the sensitive skin between his lips again. "It doesn't count?" she asked, still confused. She'd never heard of it before, but she hadn't heard much on the subject in general and had no idea what the options and possibilities were. "Exactly," he confirmed, reaching for the elastic of her panties and sliding them down her legs. She was now completely exposed in front of him. And as he looked at her, she came to the conclusion that he was probably right. He knew his way around better than she did. And he was a nice man, she had no reason not to believe him. "But it'll only be the tip, right?" She wanted him to confirm it again. That he recognized how important it was for her to maintain this status of untouchedness. He looked her firmly in the eyes and smiled at her: "I promise you, my love." After she nodded once more, she watched him take off his boxers. His hard cock slapped against his stomach. Undressed like this, he seemed even bigger. But he was pretty, she hadn't expected that. The head was slightly pink and she could see a drop of liquid glistening at its tip in the light of the room. His fingers slid up her thighs until he touched her pussy lips and felt the wetness that had formed between her legs. Then he moved even higher, massaging her clit and eliciting a moan from her. It felt so incredibly good.

He slid closer to her and then gripped the base of his cock. He navigated it between her legs and lips. He let it slide up and down a few times until it was thoroughly covered with her wetness. She couldn't suppress the string of moans that escaped her. She couldn't understand how it could feel so good when he wasn't even inside her yet and had really started. In the next moment, his tip penetrated her, was practically sucked in by her. A deep moan escaped him as he held the position, just the tip. If just one of them moved a little, he would slide out again. She had thrown her head back and her eyes were closed. Her lips were parted as soft sighs escaped her. "Just the tip Chrollo" she managed to gasp. He began to slide the tip in and out and it felt incredible. But he knew he couldn't leave it at that. She felt too good. He had to know what it was like when she completely enveloped him. He buried his head against her neck, kissing and licking the soft skin there. He knew he had to be clever about it. He had to make sure that she was completely overwhelmed by her lust. So his hand reached between them and he began to massage her clit. Meanwhile, he kept pushing in and out and with each thrust, he went a little deeper. It was barely noticeable, so slow that she only felt it when he was halfway inside her and the burning sensation she felt intensified with every second. "You promised it would be just the tip," she gasped as he continued to stimulate her clit. She knew that she should do something now, push him off her. But she just had to admit to herself that it felt too good to do anything now. The feeling was overwhelming, but he was so unbelievably big that it brought tears to her eyes with every further thrust. His head was still buried against her neck, soft moans and sighs stroking her skin. He had never felt anything that felt so good. She wasn't his first, not by a long shot. But none of the women before had stirred up lust in him this much. She was so warm and so, so tight. "I can't stop, it feels too good love. But I'll make it up to you, okay?" He breathed feather-light kisses on her swollen lips. With another thrust, he buried himself completely inside her, driving all the air from her lungs. "I'll put a ring on your finger," he promised too dazed by the veil of lust. "Okay," she gasped. She had only half realized what he had said and she didn't even care anymore. A knot was forming in her abdomen and it was the best thing she had ever felt. And while he never stopped playing with her clit, she began to push herself against his every thrust, meeting him halfway. This allowed him to thrust even deeper into her. His tip bumped against her cervix each time. His previously styled hair now fell loose in his face as he threw his head back. His pace increased and she couldn't stop her eyes from falling shut as the knot tightened. His name rolled off her lips in a continuous loop of moans and the next moment the knot burst. His hips didn't pause as her orgasm rolled over her and only one thought occupied her mind at that moment: it was worth it. This feeling that had taken over her whole body was worth no longer being considered untouched and not starting her marriage as a virgin. She didn't care that someone might find out and what the consequences might be.

His pace seemed to increase even more, even though she hadn't thought that was possible. Then his hips stuttered and she felt a warmth spread through her. He came inside of her. But even that no longer interested her when she caught a glimpse of his peaceful and almost blissful face. He stayed like that above her for a moment, peppering her face with kisses. Then he rolled off her and slid into the sheets beside her. His gaze wandered over her form. She smiled at him, her cheeks still flushed. There were many small marks on her neck and chest that he had left behind. His gaze slid further, between her legs. Her pussy reddened and his cum flowed out of her. Another image of her that he would never forget. He hadn't intended to come inside her, but he hadn't been able to resist in that moment.

Selfie

( Yuuta x Toge )

roommates.

pairing ✮ satoru gojo x fem!reader

synopsis ✮ your boyfriend doesn’t trust your roommate, gojo satoru, and for a good reason at that

wc ✮ 2.1k

warnings ✮ modern au, cheating, jealousy, unnamed boyfriend, slight vouyerism, praise, squirting, slight breeding kink, gojo gets off at the sight of reader dressed like a housewife, choking.

note ✮ this was written on a whim and barely edited.

Your boyfriend knows to be wary of Satoru Gojo.

After all, how can a pair of roommates be so close? No matter where you are, Satoru’s name always seems to come up – if he doesn’t make an appearance himself, that is. Of course you’re always so swift to deny his innuendos with a soft ‘Satoru’s just a friend. Roommates should be close baby’, and after meticulously analyzing your words, what else can your boyfriend do but listen? He trusts you with his life – but Satoru? Not a chance in hell.

He often comes over to visit with the underlying intention to monitor the white haired man, sternly watching him from the corners of his eyes whenever he tiredly shuffles out of his bedroom. You’re always so oblivious, asking Satoru if he wants to join in and watch the movie instead of asking him to leave for the night so that you could have the apartment to yourself. It’s suspicious really, how you pout at your beloved boyfriend whenever the topic of moving in together comes to the table; albeit it’s only natural to be fearful of such an important commitment, but it’s been a year – you should’ve been aching to move in with him.

Yet you aren’t.

It’s safe to say that your boyfriend is a fool, ignorantly sitting in your living room with a laughable smile on his face as he comes to the conclusion that Satoru isn’t around — finally. He’s been biding his time, patiently waiting to have you to himself, and you don’t miss the smile on his face when you ask him to stay put while you make the two of you his favourite meal for dinner. He wants to believe that you’re trying for him, smiling to yourself as you trott over to the kitchen before closing the door connecting the space to the living room shut; you are the perfect endearing girlfriend after all.

You’re slicing through the various assortment of vegetables when you hear his voice call out from behind you, and it only takes one breath for his signature cologne to drift into your head and cloud your mind, making him appear more enticing than usual. It’s difficult to stifle your gentle giggle with your boyfriend right outside, but nevertheless, you nibble on your lip and remain silent as he watches you with crossed arms.

“What are you making?” Satoru quips playfully, leaving his post from the corner of the kitchen to your backside, reaching past your hands to swipe a carrot slice from the nicked cutting board. “I assume that it’s something for my stalker sitting on our couch?” His voice remains calm but it doesn’t take an expert to notice the spite laced in his tone when he talks about your boyfriend.

You reach behind you to playfully hit his torso, paying no mind to his dangerously close proximity. “He’s not a stalker, Satoru! And lower your voice…” It’s a mumble that falls from your plump lips this time around, and he takes note of your hesitance with a sinister smile.

“Oh, he doesn’t know that I’m here, does he?” He chuckles quietly while whispering into the crook of your neck; Satoru can’t deny that his day has just gotten a hundred times better. He knows his answer when you don’t respond to his question, deciding to continue cooking instead. “He must be relieved,” He continues, trapping your body against the edge of the polished countertop as he presses himself up against you. “Thinks I’m a desperate homewrecker that wants to fuck you. That right?” It’s hard to think when his deft fingers casually make their way up your chest and knead your tits, but you know that Satoru’s right; your boyfriend doesn’t trust him, and he has every right not to.

But what’s so hilarious is that you’re here with this said ‘homewrecker’, steadily grinding your hips back to meet the cock strained against his sweatpants. It’s so wrong, begging for your roommate while your boyfriend awaits his promised dinner, but all of your accumulated greed for him manages to unfurl whatever rational thoughts are still swimming in your head. Satoru, however, can’t help but grow worked up at the sight of you with such a domestic presence, cheerfully humming as you prance around the kitchen in those unbearably skimpy shorts that dig into the fat of your ass and your low cut top hidden by the frilly apron you wore to avoid getting messy – he’s unashamed to admit how much it makes his cock swell.

“Mm– he’s right outside Satoru, we’re gonna get caught.” You whimper, letting your mind wander off to multiple different scenarios of you boyfriend finding you two here; yet they all have you pressing your thighs together in some form of excitement.

“Maybe then– I can fuck you whenever I want.” His tone remains nonchalant. Satoru truly couldn’t care less, already shoving his hand down your pants and rubbing small circles onto your sensitive clit. You can’t help but bend towards him as he explores your warm pussy with his fingers, spreading your wetness along your folds. It's impossible to miss the whimper that falls from your mouth as you lean back into him. “So fucking wet already…never get this wet for him do you?”

Before you know it, you’re frantically shaking your head no and letting it roll back against his chest, meeting his dark gaze through fluttered lashes and a slightly parted mouth. Your lewd face is already ingrained at the side of his brain; he’d rather die than forget it.

His finger teasingly prods at your fluttering hole and slips past, dragging it across your velvet walls and hitting spots that have you tilting forward onto the edge of the counter. It isn’t long before he adds yet another one of his thick fingers, scissoring in and out of your stretched cunt.

In a frenzied attempt to keep your bubbling moans at bay, you slap your hand to your mouth, clumsily knocking a utensil into the steel sink with a high pitched clunk that happens to alert your previously forgotten boyfriend. “Are you okay in there, love?” He asks over the show playing on the television.

You stumble slightly as you yell back at him. “M-mhm! Just stay put!”

His pace doesn’t let up as he leans over your bent body to whisper in your ear. “You should be more quiet, love.” It’s clear that Satoru’s amused – not even paranoid in the slightest. But what else is expected of your adventurous roommate anyways?

“‘Toru, please…” You manage to say through a strained moan.

His attention is already on you, caressing your turned face as he peers down at you. “What do you want, baby?” He coos gingerly while relishing in the way your walls clamp down on his fingers.

“W-wanna be split open by your cock Satoru!” You whine, pathetically gripping at the tabletop.

It’s difficult for you to mask your excitement when his hands slip out of your hole and tug at the thin fabric of your shorts. He doesn’t stop there, mouthing off in your ear about how perfect you are and how undeserving your boyfriend really is; Satoru is nothing shy of flattering, pressing a soft kiss to your temple all while tugging at his sweatpants to release his pulsating length with beads of white threatening to roll down and spill onto the marble floors.

Even amongst all of the lecherous teasing and lingering touches, Satoru knows that he’s pressed for time. So he doesn’t wait, meeting no resistance as he slides into you with one thrust that leaves you quietly gasping for air. You’re sure that you must look so filthy right now with your pants pooled around one of your ankles and your tongue protruding out of your mouth – but you just can’t control it. Satoru felt different in comparison to your partner, always chasing after a risk with no regard for the repercussions.

How can he worry about them when your cunt looks so divine, swallowing him with every snap of his hips against your ass?

“Always so fucking tight– gonna make me cum before we get to the fun part.” He groans, feeling your gummy walls eagerly twitch against the veins of his cock. His tempo gradually picks up and begins ramming into you, the sounds of heavy balls slapping against your soft pussy filling the room. It’s a miracle that the door hasn't already been yanked open; but it’s the last thought on your mind right now – you’re too preoccupied with rutting yourself back to meet Satoru’s cock.

“F-feels good Satoru! S’ big!” You manage to babble despite your head clouding up from the feeling of his tip repeatedly kissing your cervix.

“Fuck yeah, baby.” He gapes as you moan weakly. His contented eyes are trained on the space where your bodies meet, a translucent ring of arousal forming at the base of his coated dick; you don’t dare look at the floor beneath you. “My cunt is taking me so well, creamin’ all over me.”

You really do belong to Satoru; he’s made sure to mould your pussy to fit him and him alone – to the point where all that you can think about when you lay under your boyfriend is Satoru pounding into you as he normally does.

Satoru fucks into you without any regard for decency, swiftly holding one of your legs in his large hand and placing it on top of the counter, giving him a deeper angle to hammer your wrecked cunt. You swear that you can feel your heart palpitating in your ears as you feverishly clench around him. You try to steady yourself by clawing at everything in your line of sight, legs already going numb with the position he put you in. His heated touch contrasts the cold surface that your cheeks rests upon; his fingers eagerly dip into the flesh of your body, holding you still while he fucks you like his very own prized fleshlight.

“You drive me fucking insane when you wear that stupid little apron like a fucking housewife.” He spits out, gritting his teeth as he takes the flimsy material of the overall in his fingers. Despite the words being so filthy and condescending, it only makes you tighten around him and milk his cock. “Makes me wanna breed you so bad– deserve you more than him.” Your poorly contained sobs manage to soften his voice as he whispers to you. Without warning he slides his hand from the curve of your hips up to wrap around your neck, tilting your head back to meet his carnal gaze. “Look at me, pretty girl.”

You’re a sight to see; tears pricking the sides of your fucked out doe eyes and drool seeping from the parted corners of your swollen lips. He almost swears that he could cum at the sight alone.

“S-satoru, ‘m gunna cum.” You wail, clawing at the hand resting on your neck as you feel your high build up. Your words don’t stop him as he continues to pound into your poor cunt, praising you for how good you feel wrapped around him. He doesn’t cease looking into your eyes, getting off on the tears rolling down your face as you convulse and gush around him with a final push.

“Want me to breed you baby? Send you back into the living room stuffed full of my cum?” He asks in your ear.

“Yes please!” Your eager nods spur him on, fucking into you until the your noises drown out the loud volume of the television outside.

Satoru steadily grips your waist as his hips begin to falter, leaving you to heave in compensation for your lack of air and slump over the counter. “Fuck! Fucking take it, just like that– shit.” With a hollow groan, he buries himself deep into your messy hole and paints your walls white with his thick load. Satoru lets you catch your breath before pulling out; he can’t say that he doesn’t feel his heart swell at the sight of his seed slowly seeping out of your cunt – but before he can comment, you’re already pulling yourself together.

The timer of your oven pulls you out of your short lived haze. “Would you like some? There might be leftovers when we’re done…” You ask innocently with the tray flat in your palms as if there isn’t cum threatening to trickle down your shaky legs.

His thumb haphazardly drags over your lips, briefly slipping into your warm mouth as he nurses an avid smile on his face, “Maybe next time.”

© 2021 clubaji — do not copy, repost or modify any of my works. do not post my works in places such as tiktok. all characters are 18+

Death's Bride

Death visits your village to reap the souls of the dying, and you end up making a deal with him. If he spares your sister's life, you will join him in his dark kingdom and become the woman by his side.

Halloween Masterlist 2023

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Dark Romance, fluff, smut Word Count: 14k Warnings: 18+, smut, dark content, mentions of death, gore + blood. Reader has to take her own life so she can join Sukuna in the afterlife. Sukuna is described as a fallen angel who became the God of Death. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

You know this is no mortal man who is walking towards you with his white cloak billowing behind him as he strides through your village, carrying himself like a king, while you lie on the threshold of your small house, breathing weakly, clutching the bag with herbs to your chest. You know this is no man. You know that this is Death coming to your village to collect what's rightfully his: The souls of the dying.

It started two weeks ago. A strange sickness took root in your village and spread like wildfire. By now, almost everyone has been infected. For some, the sickness is easier to bear, and they are on the way to recovery by now. But others are at the end of their strength.

You are the only one out of your little family who is able to get up while your mother and younger sisters are still bedridden, trapped in fever dreams and violent shivers. You went out this morning to get more herbs, taking hours for the task because you were so shaky on your feet, weakened by almost two weeks of fever, your chest hurting from one coughing fit after the other. But you forced yourself to keep moving. You had to. Your family needed you. You had to prepare more tea to fight their fever.

You dragged yourself through the streets back to your small house, feeling dizzy and nauseous but driven by desperation. But you only came as far as the door before your legs finally gave out, and you broke down from exhaustion and ended up where you are now: Lying weakly on the threshold in the open doorway, staring in horror at the scene in front of you.

A tall, broad figure striding with large, strong steps through your village, dressed all in white with a long flowing cloak with a hood that covers the head of the man wearing it.

It sparks a memory inside you. Old tales whispered to you on long, cold winter nights when you huddled together with your little sisters to keep warm, and your grandmother, who was still alive then, told you those gruesome tales about him. The one who could walk freely between the realms of life and death. The Reaper of Souls. The Fallen. The merciless, cold-hearted God who ruled over the afterlife and held judgment over the souls of the dead.

Hysterical laughter bubbles out of your chest. You cannot look away as the huge man leans down over a crumbled body on the ground. The cobbler, who was always so nice as to accept homemade pie in exchange for a new pair of soles. He was one of the first who was infected. And now he broke down in front of his shop.

The white-cloaked figure extends a large hand and brushes over the head of the lifeless man on the ground. His touch has a frightening finality to it. As if you can see the life leaving the cobbler's body.

The figure in white straightens up again, and the wide hood of his cloak slips off and reveals reddish pink hair and a face more beautiful and otherwordly than anything you have ever seen.

You draw in a sharp breath as you stare at him. Now that you get a clear look, it is obvious that your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. This man really isn't human. You are looking at a creature beyond mortal limitations. You are looking at a God.

He turns his head at that moment, and a pair of glowing red eyes trap you in their intense gaze. Your eyes widen, and your breath comes out in short, panicky huffs. You know you wouldn't be able to move even if you tried as if his gaze alone holds enough power to shackle you to the ground.

He is here. The Fallen. The Grim Reaper. The God of Death.

And he starts walking in your direction with slow, sure steps. There is no hurry in his movements. He has all the time in the world because, after all, he is the end of all time for the ones he claims or a neverending cycle of the same suffering over and over again for the poor souls he decides to punish.

Behind him, bright red splotches appear, and you realize that those are flowers, blood-red spider lilies that grow out of the dirt, building a small path to mark where Death walked. It is a horrifyingly beautiful sight.

He carries himself like a King, walking through these dirty streets as if walking down a wide marble hallway in a castle. You suspect that even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away from him.

His beautiful face is adorned with black lines. Intricate filigree patterns accentuate his angular features. The black symbols mark his otherwise flawless skin with a story of pain and sin. Your mind is suddenly flooded with the tales your grandmother told you on those winter nights long ago.

There once was a beautiful angel, the most powerful of them all. But he was too proud to abide by the rules, and so he was punished. His beautiful white wings got torn out of his flesh, and his skin was etched with the marks of the crimes he committed. He was cast out and cursed to become The Fallen. The one who claimed the throne of the afterlife, of the world beyond mortality. He took the reins, and from then on, his true name was forgotten, and everyone only called him by his new name, which was Death.

And now he is walking towards you. Strangely, you don't feel fear anymore, only fascination as you watch him approach.

He stops next to you, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. This close, you can see his face even more clearly, and your mouth opens in awe. He is devastatingly beautiful.

And so big. He is towering over you, tall and broad. From where you are lying on the floor, he looks like a mountain that is about to crush you.

"Are you here to collect souls?"

Your voice sounds weak and hoarse from coughing so much.

His glowing red eyes watch you intently for a long moment, and you think that he almost looks surprised for whatever reason. But then the moment is gone, and he nods. A slight smirk lifts one corner of his lips,

"Yes, but not yours, little one. It's not your time yet. Your body will heal again."

His voice is low and calm. He sounds soothing. Not at all how you imagined Death to sound. You were always scared of this mysterious figure you heard all those grim tales about. A terrifying, violent creature with blood-red eyes and monster-like fangs, a devil who brings pain and suffering.

But right now, you only feel calm. You feel strangely at peace with him here. His power emanates from him, so powerful that you can feel it on your skin and smell it in your nose. But it doesn't feel evil or threatening.

Instead, it feels comforting, like a warm bed with freshly washed sheets waiting for you to sink into and wrap yourself in its sweet comfort. Like the relief you feel after finally lying down after a hard day of physical labor, like the feeling of sinking into a hot bath that eases the tension in your limbs.

But that momentary feeling of peacefulness slips away again a second later when Death takes a large step past you. His feet stomp heavily on the wooden threshold next to your head, and with it, terror fills your senses.

"No!"

Your voice is a hoarse scream as you lunge forward despite your weakened state, your hand darting out to wrap around his ankle and cling desperately to it.

"Please don't go in there! Please don't!"

Your family is in there. Your younger sisters and your mother.

Your lips tremble, just like your hand, but you refuse to let go of the black leather boot that's slippery with mud. You cling to it, sobbing as you gaze up at Death through the hot tears clouding your vision.

He looks down at you, an elegant eyebrow lifted in a curious expression. He stares at your tiny hand wrapped around his ankle. You cannot tell if he is angry or amused about your pathetic attempt to stop him.

"Let go, little one. I told you, your time hasn't come yet. But I have to collect a soul from in there."

You are drowning in dread. And the words pour out of your lips, desperate and panicky,

"Please don't do it! Please take me instead! I am begging you, my Lord! Please spare them!"

Narrowed red eyes meet yours. He laughs softly and lifts his leg, effortlessly shaking your hand off. His low voice sounds amused as if you made a nice little joke.

"Look at you trying to negotiate with Death. You are a brave one. Foolish but brave."

Now you see how truly terrifying he is. Death knows no mercy. He doesn't just collect the souls of the old people who lived a long, fulfilled life. He claims anyone whose time has run out in the cruel hourglass that is life. He will go in there and take your mother or one of your sisters with him even though they still deserve so much more from life.

He looks at you with a cold, intimidating look in his red eyes. His mouth is set in a thin line, and his shoulders are pulled back, making him look even more massive. You cannot negotiate with Death. He is the God of the afterlife. There are forces at hand which every mortal is completely helpless against. Humans are all just little toy figures on the game board of the Gods. Or not even that. Just tiny, irrelevant grains of dust.

And yet, you cannot stop yourself from pleading with him.

"I don't care what you do to me! Take me with you! I am ready to die any death you see fit! Just please, please let my family live! My sisters are still so young. They deserve to see more of life! And they need my mother, she has to live too! But I am dispensable. Take me instead! Please! I will do anything you say!"

He watches you with amused eyes and a thoughtful expression.

"You're such an interesting one. You aren't dying, though. So I cannot take you to the other realm. But we could make a deal. I have to collect one soul from this house. I don't care whose it is. There is still time. I could still heal your sister. But only in exchange for another soul. You die, she lives. How does that sound to you? Are you still brave enough now?"

His red eyes watch you with an amused glint in them. Cruel excitement seems to fill him. You can't help but think that you are something like a strangely colored bug that he watches for his entertainment before he crushes it under the soles of his boots.

But you don't care. You refuse to avert your gaze, staring stubbornly into his otherwordly red eyes, your hands balled into fists as you nod.

"I agree. Please, my Lord. Please save her."

He chuckles softly, a low, amused sound, and his face lights up in a grin. He looks disgustingly delighted.

"I will, little one. But only if you seal a binding deal with me first. I spare your sister's life, and in exchange, you take your own life and let me take you with me. The moment you breathed your last breath, you belong to me, and I can decide what to do with your soul. I am in a good mood today, so I will be open about my plans for you. It would be a waste to send you back here as a curse that haunts your family. Instead, I want to keep you by my side. I could use someone who looks after my temple and warms my bed. I could use a bride. What do you say, little one?"

You can see that he is amused, that he expects you to decline after hearing his plan for you. But you don't. For a moment, you stare at him, horrified by what his words imply. But you shake yourself out of it, driven by a desperate conviction. You cannot let your little sister die today. You could never live with the guilt of knowing you had a chance to save her and let it pass. You will do what it takes. Even if it means following Death into his dark kingdom and giving your body to him. You swallow hard, lips trembling as you answer him,

"Alright. I will be your bride and look after your temple. I agree to your terms. Now, please hurry up and save her!"

More laughter falls from his lips. His red eyes glitter like two precious rubies. He sounds pleased when he says,

"You're a fearless one. I like that."

His red gaze never leaves yours as he reaches inside his cloak and pulls out a wicked-looking dagger.

"Here. Do it. End your life, and let me collect your soul. The moment your soul belongs to me, your sister will wake up from her fever dream and recover from the sickness that has befallen her."

You gulp hard, fear squeezing your heart tightly, as you stare at his large hand wrapped around the golden hilt of the dagger, his red eyes watching you challengingly, watching if you will really fulfill your part of the contract.

You are scared suddenly, your breath coming out in short huffs. You feel lightheaded, adrenaline pumping through your veins, making stars dance before your eyes.

Maybe this is how things are. No matter how prepared you are for Death, when he comes to really collect you, you feel fear after all. Fear of the finality of it all. There is no way back after you take this step.

But you don't hesitate. You press your lips together tightly and take the offered dagger out of Death's hand.

The moment you hold the heavy weapon in your grasp, Death's large hand wraps around your wrist, and he pulls you to your feet, making you stand before him.

He is so much taller than you, even now when you are standing. You have to tilt your head back to look into his eyes. He looks even more intimidating up close. Powerful, strong, unrelenting. A cunning business partner who is waiting for you to fulfill your side of the contract. A contract you pay for with your life.

You half expect him to taunt you, and it makes you clench your jaw and stare up at him defiantly. But to your surprise, there is no mockery in his low voice when he speaks up again.

"Have no fear. You won't feel any pain. I will make sure of that."

His words bring tears to your eyes, making them spill over with the hot salty liquid as your chest fills with comfort, finding solace in the fact that Death apparently knows mercy after all.

Your hand is trembling violently, but you bring the sharp blade of the dagger to your neck, gazing up at Death as you do so, looking deeply into his glowing red eyes as you slice your own throat.

The sharp metallic taste of blood fills your every sense. You taste it, you smell it, you feel it hot and wet running down your slit throat and your chest, you hear it gurgling in your mouth when you try to speak.

But Death leans down to take the bloodied dagger from your hand. His other hand cups your cheek. It's so large against your face. But his touch is gentle as if he is holding a thin, fragile porcelain cup,

"It's fine, little one. You did well. Brave until the end."

His voice is soothing. Low and calm, almost seductive. Like a lover luring you into his comforting embrace. You lean into his touch, smiling weakly when you feel his thumb caress your cheek soothingly.

Black spots dance before your eyes, and you feel so tired. You see his lips move, but you can't hear anymore. Your legs and hands feel numb. You fall forward, but strong arms catch you.

You feel yourself get swooped up into Death's strong arms and pressed safely against his broad chest. You feel him move as your head lols back weakly. The ghost of a smile tugs at your blood-stained lips. He carries you like a groom carrying his bride to the bedroom on their wedding night.

How fitting. After all, you are truly his bride now.

If you weren't so weak, you would laugh at the commentary your delirious mind provides.

By now, your vision has vanished completely. The only thing you are still aware of are his arms around you. It's peaceful and warm. As painless as he promised. You feel one last weak throb of your heart. And then it's only sweet, comforting darkness and the feeling of those strong arms carrying you safely across the border from mortal life into Death's dark kingdom.

You wake up feeling rested and comfortable. Your eyes are still closed, and you sigh contentedly, snuggling deeper into the soft and warm sensation of a silky pillow and blanket.

In the back of your mind, some strange warning tugs, but you are too wrapped in the luxurious feeling of being well-rested after a good night's sleep to pay it much attention. You can't remember the last time you felt rested like this. It was hard since your father died. You are the oldest daughter and had to help your mother raise your younger sisters. You were the one who had to do most physical labor, working on one of the farms day in and day out. Your body constantly ached somewhere.

But not today.

You sigh happily, stretching your limbs and marveling at how soft the bedsheets and the blanket feel against your naked skin and how large the bed is.

That's when the little voice in your head becomes too loud to ignore. You blink in confusion and open your eyes.

You are in a large room with marble walls decorated opulently with red and gold murals. Red candles are flickering in large lanterns. A fire is crackling in a beautifully decorated hearth. The bed you are lying in is huge and definitely not made for only one person.

You gasp and sit up, looking around hastily.

There are two red pillows and two red blankets, and everything is made of the finest silk. As if you are in a King's bed chambers.

And, suddenly, you remember everything.

The sickness haunting your village. Your dying sister. Death walking towards you. The deal you made with him. The dagger in your hands. The blood. Strong arms carrying you. You remember him. Death himself. Your bridegroom.

Instinctively, you grab the blanket and wrap it tightly around your body, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Your heart is beating wildly, and it makes you feel nauseous. You still remember the feeling of your heartbeat becoming slower and slower before it finally faded away completely. You remember dying.

And yet you are here now, breathing, feeling the silk on your skin, feeling the thrumming of your heart. So very alive, even though you know you can't be.

And so very naked in a man's bed. Or not a man's bed. In a God's bed. In Death's bed.

At that moment, the large door opposite the bed opens, and you wince in fear. You clutch the blanket tightly against your body, staring at the door with wide eyes.

He stands in the doorway, his pink hair almost brushing against the doorframe. Tall and massive. He looks intimidating even without the white cloak he wore when reaping souls. Even the way he is dressed right now, as if he just woke up too, with only a pair of black pants on his muscular body. His feet and chest are bare.

There are more tattoos on his body, matching the ones on his face. Black lines decorate the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, as well as his strong arms.

He could almost be a human man. Almost. But those glowing red eyes tell you otherwise. Those are the eyes of a mythical creature. The eyes of a God.

And you feel like a small animal trapped in that gaze as you sit there on his large bed, naked except for the silk blanket wrapped protectively around yourself, unable to move as you watch him walk into the room.

He moves gracefully like a big cat, even though he is so tall and muscular. A slight smirk lifts his lips as he approaches the bed. His red eyes never leave your small figure huddled in his blanket.

"Ah, I see you are awake."

"What... what did you do to me?"

The words have left your mouth before you can stop yourself. Confusion and fear make you blurt out mindlessly. You are distraught by the memories of slitting your own throat, by the feeling of dying. And you are terrified by the knowledge that you are naked in Death's bed. Terrified by what he might have done to you in your sleep. On the other hand, maybe it would be better for you not to have been awake for what he did.

He falters for a moment, his beautiful face shadowed by a frown as his red gaze bores searchingly into yours.

"We made a deal. Can you not remember? Your life in exchange for your sisters? You agreed to follow me here."

You nod firmly,

"Yes, yes, of course I remember."

"When what..." he starts, but then comprehension seems to dawn on his features, and he laughs, sounding mocking, his eyes glittering amusedly when he continues,

"Don't worry. I didn't touch you while you were unconscious. Where would be the fun in that?"

Oh.

You feel some of the worst tension leave your body, a long breath you had been holding finally finding its way out of your lips.

"But why am I... naked?"

"You were dirty. Do you think I would let you sleep in my bed like that, full of dirt and blood? My servant undressed you and cleaned you and put you in my bed."

So you were right. This is his bed.

"Why am I in your bed?"

He huffs at your question as if you asked something utterly stupid.

"Because you are my bride. Of course, you sleep in my bed. We have a deal. So if I say you sleep in my bed, you will sleep here. Is that clear?"

You lick your lips nervously, feeling fear tingle under your skin at his imperious tone and the intense gaze out of those unnervingly red eyes.

You quickly avert your gaze, bowing your head obediently,

"Yes, my Lord."

"Sukuna."

You blink and lift your head again to look at him questioningly.

"What?"

"That was my name before I became Death. Sukuna. I want you to call me that from now on."

He sighs, and the stern expression on his face becomes softer when he adds,

"It would be uncalled for my bride to address me with my title. I am Sukuna for you. Your betrothed."

He says his own name with a slight tilt in his voice as if he isn't used to saying it. Maybe he isn't. It must have been a very long time since he told someone his name. Maybe eons.

You gulp hard.

How strange it is to be here with him. To talk to him as if he is a regular mortal when he is so much more than that. He has never even been human. He is a being so ancient and so powerful, so crucial to every mortal's existence, that your head spins just from trying to imagine it.

But you force yourself to be brave and look at him.

He is right. You agreed to his terms. And he did his part. He spared your sister. Now, it's your turn to fulfill the rest of your side of the contract.

You are still trembling and hugging the blanket tightly to your naked form, but you look bravely into his eyes and give him a polite nod,

"Of course, Sukuna. Thank you for saving my sister. I will be a good bride for you."

A day ago, you were a mere mortal. One of millions who were caught in the hands of fate. Working day in and out to stay alive, always hoping, begging, praying to have more time and to see your loved ones live a long life too, while all of you were exposed to the threat of Death cutting your lifespan with his sword at any second.

Now, you are beyond that. You died, and you came back again. Brought back by Death himself, the Master over every soul who left the mortal world behind.

From this day on, you reside in the afterlife. From this day onwards, you will be Death's Bride and live your new life, or rather your afterlife, by Sukuna's side.

He tells you that you are free to move around in the temple. When you ask if you are also allowed to go outside, he lifts an elegant eyebrow and seems strangely amused, as if you asked something stupid.

"You can also go outside. But I don't think you will find anything interesting there, little one."

You don't know what he means, but accept it and take the fine clothes his loyal servant Uraume brings you. Everything is made out of the finest silk. A fabric so luxurious and soft that it feels like a caress when Uraume helps you get dressed. You gulp when the servant puts jewelry on your neck and wrists. Heavy gold and pretty jewels, red rubies that glitter in the same color as your groom's eyes.

Sukuna's temple is enormous and luxuriously furnished. Not at all like the tiny, shabby house you grew up in. But you cannot claim that this temple is better than your old home because, contrary to the vivacious atmosphere of your former home, Sukuna's house is eerily silent. A silence that feels haunting.

You don't dare walk too fast so as not to make any loud noise. You catch yourself whispering because your normal voice sounds too loud in these empty halls. It's a ghostly place. The silence feels too heavy, almost tangible. Something that can easily drive a person into madness.

You try to focus on the little noises that are there. The little signs of existence, like the sound of water flowing into the large bath. Or the sound of the doors sliding open and closed.

It takes a while to explore the whole place. To see all the large rooms with their rich tapestries and carpets. Gold and rubies shine and glitter everywhere. But a lot of the rooms look too clean, too perfect. There are no signs of someone actually living in them.

It is lonely here.

Maybe this is why Sukuna was willing to make a contract with you that would bind you to him and make you join him here. Maybe he was looking for a companion, or just a pet, to amuse him in this everlasting silence.

It is not like you are a servant here, as Sukuna made it sound at first. You assumed you would tend to him, clean his temple and clothes, wash and cook for him. But that isn't the case. His servant, Uraume, takes care of those tasks. They mostly remain invisible, like a ghost, taking care of everything for their Master, seemingly manifesting out of the shadows to bring you fresh clothes and oils and wine.

You ask them timidly what you are supposed to do, and they shake their head to inform you that you are just here for Master Sukuna's enjoyment.

A statement that makes a shudder run through you.

You have been here for three days, and so far, he hasn't laid a hand on you, maybe because he was away most of the time, apparently reaping souls on a battlefield.

But he demands your presence at dinner with him, where he sits across from you at a large table, and those gleaming red eyes never leave you. He is polite, asking questions about your day and how you like the jewelry.

And he joins you in the large bed every night, naked, with his tall and broad body full of solid muscles and black lines unashamedly on display for your terrified gaze.

You try to tell yourself it is the shock that makes you unable to look away from him when he undresses next to the bed and then slips in. But a little voice in the back of your mind whispers treacherously to you that maybe it is because Sukuna has an undeniably beautiful body.

"You're getting quite intimate with Death, my dear, aren't you?"

His amused low voice makes you hastily look away and hide your face in the silky pillow, heart racing nervously. His mocking laugh makes goosebumps creep over your skin. But he doesn't seem mad. He is just amused once again.

"Don't be shy, little one. Look all you want. You'll have all the time in the world to explore this body."

You bite your lip at his words, your body tensing up under the blanket when a large hand lands on the nape of your neck and slowly slides down your spine. Your heart is fluttering, and you don't dare breathe. But he pulls his hand away after a moment.

You slip to the edge of the bed, as far away from him as possible, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, knees pulled up, curling into yourself, instinctively trying to protect yourself as if it would help anything against this God in your bed.

The more time you spend in Sukuna's Kingdom, the more you realize that this is really death. It is the absence of life, the absence of sound, and plant- and animal life. You begin to understand that the once graceful angel Sukuna really got punished. This here is his suffering, his punishment. The loneliness, the absence of life that so suffocatingly surrounds him at all times.

But he was cunning enough to cheat and take his chance when you offered it so beautifully to him. Now, it is the two of you here in this dead place.

It's truly a lonely place. Maybe that's the definition of hell. To be trapped in a beautiful temple that holds all the riches the world could offer but lacks life, lacks the connection to other beings.

You try to befriend Uraume, but they seem to vanish when they aren't busy with some task. Your attempts at chatting with them get declined with a polite but stern bow and a "Please forgive me, my Lady, but I must ask you to refrain from distracting me from serving Master Sukuna."

You meet no other being aside from Uraume and Sukuna.

The worst thing is the eerie silence. It almost drives you crazy. It makes you stomp your feet loudly just so you can reassure yourself you are still able to hear. It makes you slowly push open the large gate that leads outside in a desperate attempt to find anything living.

The rich opulence inside Sukuna's home is a stark contrast to what greets you when you finally step outside the temple.

A seemingly endless wasteland stretches before your eyes. There is no sky above you. It feels like you are in an enormous cave with a ceiling so high your vision cannot reach it. Eternal darkness lives in this place. Cold with icy winds and a rotten stench of iron and decay.

It's gruesome. Hopeless.

You press a hand over your nose and mouth and stand there wide-eyed, staring at the endless darkness in the distance. But as frightening as it is, the complete darkness in the distance is a blessing compared to what you see in the strange, dim, reddish light surrounding Sukuna's temple.

A vast crimson-red sea surrounds the island upon which the temple is built. The color and the stench make you ask yourself a question to which you already know the answer. Yes, this sea must be a sea of blood.

You shudder as you take a tentative step closer to the crimson-red liquid at your feet. You gulp hard as you lift your head to look straight ahead. There is a narrow path leading through the sea of blood, a path that is made of stones and other shapes. Shapes that look too similar to bones to be a coincidence.

But at the end of that path is something even more horrible. A massive pile of bones. It is so high that it seems like a small hill. And on its top is a large throne made out of skulls.

This must be the place from the tales you heard whispered.

Death's throne.

This must be where Sukuna holds court and decides on the fate of the newly deceased. Some will move on to eternal peace. Some will suffer forever in the fires of the afterlife. Some will be forced to return to the mortal world. But not as humans but as empty shells. As curses that were laid upon them by others.

A heavy hand lands on your shoulder, and you scream.

You whirl around wide-eyed, only to stare into the smirking face of your soon-to-be husband.

Sukuna's red eyes wander slowly from your face to his throne in the midst of the sea of blood and back again to your face, looking deeply into your eyes as he says in his low, velvety voice,

"I see, you found my throne. You can sit next to me up there if you wish while I pass judgment on the newly reaped souls."

You shake your head frantically.

"No! No, there will be no need for that!"

He raises an elegant eyebrow and huffs softly.

"Such a pity."

But he leaves it at that. His white coak billows behind him majestically as he strides back into the temple, and his soft laugh carries over to your ears, amused, maybe a bit mocking.

You follow him hastily, not wanting to be out here any second longer.

You plan to never set foot outside again after that. It's easier to pretend when you are inside the temple. It's easier to pretend that you are not in the middle of literal hell.

You aren't sure how many days or weeks have passed since you arrived in Sukuna's Kingdom. Time is nonexistent here. There are no seasons. There is no night and day. You have dinner at appointed times, and you go to bed where you still slide to the far end of the bed. But you have no idea if the days have the same hours as in the mortal world.

It might be a week, maybe since you were brought here when Uraume informs you while dressing you in the morning,

"Tonight, the wedding ceremony will be held. I will bathe you and dress you in your wedding dress later on."

And you feel like you are falling. Falling deeper and deeper into darkness so absolute it feels like velvet brushing over your skin as it swallows you wholly.

You knew this was coming. But it still shakes you to your deepest core. There is something so final about becoming Death's bride. You know you will be here forever. You will be Sukuna's forever. Bound to him by a promise, by a contract, by a union of bodies, maybe by blood too.

The wedding dress is the most beautiful dress you have ever seen. White silk, so delicate it looks like a mere spider's web. Your skin shimmers through it. The dress clings to your curves, showing your body almost as if you are naked. It looks like the dress of a Queen. Or a Goddess.

"Master Sukuna wanted the finest wedding dress ever made for his bride. You should be grateful and wear it with pride."

The disapproval in Uraume's voice is evident as they catch you crossing your arms timidly in front of your breasts, trying to hide your body.

When you walk towards your groom, you hold your head up high, clutching the wedding bouquet of spider lilies tightly in your hands, your gaze glued to Sukuna's glowing red eyes, trying your best to be brave.

You play along and do what Uraume instructed, extending a hand so Sukuna can take it and let him lead you to an altar. You are brave. You don't flinch when Sukuna takes the same dagger that you took your life with and touches it to your wrist, cutting your skin lightly.

No blood is welling up from the wound. Another mystery. What are you now? You feel a heart beating in your chest, but you don't bleed. Is anything you feel even real? Or is the beating of your heart just a phantom sensation you remember from being alive and refuse to let go of?

You feel lightheaded as you stare at the thin wound on your wrist, but only for a moment because then Uraume hands Sukuna a tray with a small pot with a black liquid in it.

You know what is to come. Your husband is marking you as his, filling your wound with the black liquid, giving you the same markings he bears.

He doesn't kiss you but stands in front of you, so close that you feel his warmth. One of his large hands cups your cheek, his thumb brushing slowly over your lower lip before it pushes into your mouth and feeds you some of the black liquid he marked you with.

"Take my sin into you and become mine for all eternity. Be my companion in this eternal darkness, like I will be yours."

There is something in his voice and about his choice of words that makes tears prick at your eyes, but you will them away and repeat his vow.

He takes you that night for the first time, consummating your marriage by pushing you onto the bed, one of his large hands pressing your face down into the silken pillow, as Sukuna settles over you.

You clutch the pillow tightly between your fingers when you feel his heavy weight pressing your body down. You tell yourself to be brave and obedient, but you cannot stop a muffled cry from falling from your lips when his huge cock splits you open and claims you for the first time.

He takes you with deep, thorough thrusts. The initial pain vanishes after the first few thrusts, and after that, your union isn't exactly painful anymore, but it feels frightening how full you feel, how stretched out. You have never lain with a man before, but even if you had, you know no mortal man would have been able to prepare you for your wedding night with a God like Sukuna.

He is so big, so strong, taking you unrelentingly while you tremble in his arms, knowing you could never run from him even if you chose to back out of your contract with him.

His large hands are placed on each side of your head, his lips trail over your neck, sharp teeth grazing over your skin, while he snaps his hips and makes you feel like you are getting crushed anytime his heavy weight presses you down onto the bed.

There is no love in this union of your bodies, but it's not like you were as naive as to ever imagine your wedding night to be filled with love or tenderness.

You always expected to marry out of convenience. A girl like you couldn't afford the luxury of love when picking a husband. You had a family to look after. Maybe it would have been one of the farmer's sons if you were lucky. You would have given birth to his children in exchange for a relatively comfortable life for yourself and your mother and sisters in one of the big farmhouses.

You never were so foolish as to believe you would have a loving marriage. So this wedding night with Sukuna isn't that much different from what you were expecting in your future anyway.

And so you grit your teeth and take his cock obediently, letting him use your body to satisfy his desire until you hear his low groans in your ear when he finds his release and fills you with his warm seed.

You are a good bride.

You know you aren't expected to work, but you find your way into the large kitchen anyway, standing behind Uraume as they prepare a meal.

Sukuna has been gone the whole day, and there is only so much staring at the ceiling while lying in your bed that you can do before you inevitably go insane. So you went in search of the only other living being down here, hoping they wouldn't send you away.

"Do you need help with the cooking? Can I maybe chop some ingredients or something?"

Sukuna's servant sends you a cold gaze over their shoulder, looking at you as if you offended them by the suggestion alone.

"I have spent eons preparing Master Sukuna's meals, my Lady. I don't need any help. And you aren't a servant here. You should do other things."

"But... but that's not what I meant. I am sorry if I offended you. The food you cook is always perfect. I just...I am looking for something to do and for some company maybe. Can I please assist you? There is nothing else to do here."

Uraume sighs, but they nod slightly, and you feel relief wash over you. They wave you over, hand you a knife, and point to a cutting board where a small pile of vegetables is waiting to get sliced into little pieces. You smile at Uraume and murmur a soft thanks, going to work immediately.

"Uraume? Can I ask you something? Does Sukuna even need to eat?"

It's something you have been curious about since the first time you sat across from him at the large dining table. You don't feel any hunger since you woke up here in the afterlife. Why would someone who is already dead need food? But you eat because you feel like it is required of you in your role as Sukuna's bride. It made you wonder, though. Why would a powerful being like Sukuna need to eat? Or does he just do it because he likes the sensation of eating?

Uraume watches you warily for a long moment, probably contemplating whether they should chat with you about Sukuna. In the end, they sigh softly and answer you,

"Master Sukuna doesn't need any food. But he wants to eat."

Uraume hesitates for a moment, their hand with the knife hovering over the meat they are currently chopping, but then they add softly,

"In the heavenly realms, they have big feasts all the time with as much food and wine as one can imagine. Even after The Fall, Master Sukuna didn't want to give up on that. He was supposed to have a life void of all those joys, but he evades that form of punishment by consuming the food I prepare for him with ingredients I collect from the mortal world. Of course, it's not quite the same taste as the foods prepared in the celestial realm, but for the ingredients I can obtain, it is the best food he can get."

It makes sense.

You can't help but chuckle softly as you realize that eating a four-course meal every night is Sukuna's little ongoing rebellion against the ones who turned him into The Fallen.

It somehow makes you see your husband in a different light. It makes him seem a little more human. A little more relatable. You have been there, too, several times, feeling the desire to do something out of spite when someone tries to forbid you something.

That evening, you watch him closely while he eats the meal Uraume and you prepared for him. For the first time, you take in how much he seems to treasure the food served to him. He takes his time eating it, letting it melt slowly on his tongue, taking in all the different flavors, and his eyes close in pleasure when he savors the taste.

It almost makes you feel sorry for him and for what he lost when he got cast out of heaven.

You never wanted to set foot outside the temple again after seeing the endless wasteland and the sea of blood. But your curiosity gets the better of you when Sukuna informs you he will be holding court today, and you watch him slip into his white cloak and walk through the huge doors of the temple towards the path that leads to his throne.

You follow him after a few minutes, unable to resist the lure his words have on you.

A horrifying sight greets you. The sea of blood is filled with a large crowd of shadowy figures. The bloody waters are shallow, only reaching up to the knees of those standing in it. But none of them look down. They all have their heads tilted back to look up at the imposing figure who thrones over them. Atop the gruesome pile of bones, sitting on his throne of skulls, is Death.

He looks bored. His long legs are crossed casually one over the other. His chin is resting on the back of one hand while his eyes trail slowly over the souls standing before him, awaiting his judgment.

Eyes that glow blood-red, vibrant like two lights in the dark, standing out frighteningly in the dim light of the afterlife.

He is beautiful and terrifying.

You can see the immeasurable extent of his power and can even feel it as if it is a physical thing that surrounds you, making the air thick and filling your senses with dread. A dread that comes with the absence of all hope.

Sukuna is the King of the Afterlife. The God of Death. There is no escape from him. Every living soul will one day end up here and stand before your husband.

A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. You instinctively hug yourself even as your gaze stays glued to the scene playing out in front of you.

As expected, Sukuna is unrelenting in his judgment. There is no mercy to be expected when he makes his decisions. He isn't swayed by the cruelty of the fates of the ones standing before him, no matter how tragic they are. His decisions are rational and brutal at times. And yet, after you stood there for several hours and watched him, you have to admit that his judgment is fair. Of course, he won't revive anyone. But he assigns an appropriate ending to their lives. He punishes the ones who did evil. He transforms the ones who got cursed. He leads the ones who are innocent to their eternal sleep.

When the last soul has vanished in a cloud of red smoke, Sukuna gets up from his throne and slowly walks back toward the temple. His movements are graceful, making you watch him with a feeling akin to admiration.

His red eyes land on you, and for a split second, a surprised expression crosses his beautiful features.

When he reaches you, he stops next to you with a content expression on his face and a small smirk lifting the corners of his lips,

"So my bride watched after all, hm? I am pleased."

You nod at him, and to your surprise, you see his smirk turn into a smile.

One of his large hands reaches out and lands on your head. Long fingers brush over your hair, petting you for a brief moment before he pulls away again and continues walking toward the temple.

You feel strangely light-hearted when you fall into step behind your husband.

When he takes you that night, he is gentler in the way he handles you. He doesn't press you face down into the pillow like he usually does, but instead rolls the two of you to the side, entering you from behind while you lay in his strong arms and his large hands trail down your body, cupping your breasts and rubbing circles over your belly.

His lips graze your earlobes while his low groans and murmurs fill the room,

"You're a good little bride."

You don't know whether it's his words or the way he snaps his hips that makes you clench around his thick cock and exhale a surprised moan, as for the first time, you feel thick syrupy pleasure explode inside you and spread through your whole body in warm crashing waves.

Your husband is often away. In the mortal world, reaping souls. You know that anywhere he goes, he brings devastation and fear. But when he comes home to you, he brings a certain comfort with him, as strange as it sounds.

You are almost glad when Sukuna's tall, broad figure walks into the wide double doors. It is very lonely here and scary at times when you become too aware of where you are, and the silence becomes too suffocating. Sukuna's presence brings comfort. His low, calm voice helps you drift away from that brink of madness you sometimes feel yourself drifting towards when you are alone with your thoughts for too long.

Your husband is Death, but to you, he is the only sign of life you meet down here, and that is enough to make you drift towards him when he is at home.

He is terrifying because of his role in this cycle of life and death. He is terrifying because he symbolizes the end. His position is terrifying. But the man Sukuna doesn't seem so bad.

He treats you well. He is polite. And as long as he looks at you and talks to you, you feel real. You still exist. You aren't gone. You aren't a ghost or a curse. You are very real and corporal.

You catch yourself following Sukuna around, watching him while he polishes his sword and the various daggers he carries. Watching him when he sits comfortably on the bed with books spread around him, reading and making notes.

His red eyes find yours and narrow in a frown.

"You've been staring at me for half an hour. Do you have nothing to entertain yourself with? What are you usually doing while I am away?"

The question catches you off guard. Is he mad at you? Is he accusing you of being lazy?

You look nervously at him,

"There isn't a lot to do here... I mostly just... wait? I sleep a lot, I take baths, and I help Uraume in the kitchen. Is there anything you want me to do?"

He blinks at you and shrugs.

"Why don't you find a past time? I showed you my library. Why don't you spend your days there and read?"

You feel shame wash over you. You get treated like a noble woman here by the King's side. But you have always been just a poor peasant from a dirty little village where the only thing that mattered was physical labor.

"I never learned how to read."

Sukuna's red eyes widen, and he stares at you for a long moment before he finally says firmly,

"Follow me."

He gets up and walks toward the door without bothering to check if you follow him. A man who is used to everyone obeying his commands.

You quickly scramble to your feet, bunch up your dress, and do as he says. You have to walk fast to keep up with Sukuna's large steps, probably looking pathetic as you hurry after him. But he doesn't comment on it. There is an amused smirk on his beautiful face, though, when he waits for you at the door that leads to his personal library.

It's a vast room with large shelves filled with so many books that you suspect he must own every book that has ever been written.

"Sit."

Sukuna's low voice is demanding, but you can hear the tint of amusement in it as he points one long finger to one of the large armchairs.

You nod and sit down, watching Death stride through his collection of books and pull several books from the various shelves, which he then places on the small table next to your armchair.

"I will teach you how to read. These are all books that contain very little text. We will start with those."

Your head snaps up, and you stare at him, caught off guard and astonished by his offer. Why does he care whether you have something to do in your time here or not? Why does he take some of his precious time to teach his bride, who he claimed is only here to warm his bed, how to read?

At the same time, you feel a shudder run through your body, feeling flustered suddenly as you realize that this means you will spend a lot of time with him.

Holed up in Death's personal library, where he sits so close to you that his large hand brushes against yours anytime he turns a page. So close that his breath caresses the skin of your neck anytime he tells you something in his low, velvety voice. You find it hard to focus on his words, too distracted by the warmth emanating from his tall, muscular body.

He takes you almost every night, but somehow, those hours spent with him in the library where he teaches you how to read feel much more intimate than the nights spent under his heavy body.

Sometimes, Sukuna returns home as immaculately looking as he left. His white cloak clean, his beautiful face flawless. But at other times, he comes home covered in dirt and blood from walking over a battlefield or through a slaughtered city.

On those days, you help him shrug out of his stained clothes and then lead him to the large bath, where you join him in the hot water to wash the blood and dirt off his muscles.

It is something he demanded from you.

"Why should I wash myself when I have a perfect little bride to do that. Isn't it your duty to serve me? Now take off your clothes and join me in the bath."

At first, it took all your bravery to slip out of your clothes in front of his wolfish gaze and smug grin. But now, it is no cause for shame or discomfort anymore. You are used to being naked in front of Sukuna. Used to getting claimed fully by him.

But it's not just that, you realize as you slip into the hot water and walk towards your husband.

By now, you feel a certain pride in this. Sukuna is Death. He is a God. A being that seems untouchable with all the power he holds. But you are allowed to touch him. You are allowed to invade his personal space.

There is something so intimate about straddling his lap here in the hot water, naked skin on skin, as you cup his beautiful face with one hand and use a washcloth to wipe the blood off his skin and wash his hair. A certain bond blossoms between the two of you when his muscular arms encircle you, and his red eyes watch you intently, glittering like two rubies in the flickering candlelight while he lets you take care of him. There is a certain softness in the way he thanks you for cleaning him despite his former claims that this was your duty to him.

It's during one of those shared baths when Sukuna kisses you for the first time.

He has claimed you almost every night, had you under him or in front of him, or made you be on top and sit on his large, heavy cock while he lifted you up and down and rolled his hips to thrust deeply into you. He made you bury your nose in his pink pubic hair while he used your mouth for his pleasure, made you choke on his copious amounts of seed, or sneered when he pulled out in time to shoot it all over your face and naked breasts.

He claimed you in every way a man can claim a woman. But he never kissed you.

In all the months you have been here by his side, Sukuna never kissed you until this afternoon here in the large bath where you sit on his lap and wash the blood off his face.

Your face is barely inches from his as you scrub at the dried blood on his right cheek when you feel one of his large hands trail up your back slowly. A caress that feels too gentle for a being like him. Your eyes flicker to his, and you see him watching you intently with an unreadable expression in those glowing red eyes.

Before you can go back to scrubbing at the blood on his cheeks, you feel his large hand cup the back of your head and pull you closer.

Your eyes widen when Sukuna's lips touch yours. They are surprisingly soft. His kiss is slow at first, lips barely moving against yours. But it grows more passionate quickly. His large hand tightens its hold on your hair, his mouth opens against yours, and his velvety tongue licks over your lips before pushing between them.

You shudder, not able to tell if it is from fear or pleasure. But your eyes fall shut, and your hand drops the washcloth. Your arms link behind Sukuna's broad neck. You open your mouth willingly for him, letting him in further, licking against his tongue experimentally, surprised at the heat that it makes throb in your core.

A soft growl is heard, and you can't tell if it's coming from you or Sukuna. But you know that his arms tighten around you and that you press your naked breasts against his muscular chest as you push your tongue eagerly against his, caressing it with a hunger that you didn't know you possessed.

You feel an all too familiar hardness growing beneath you, but instead of dreading it, you press against it eagerly, allowing yourself to fall into those hot, red feelings of desire and need. Allowing yourself to dive into those stormy waves of carnal pleasure, embracing the comfort and freedom it offers you.

This time you shudder in pleasure when Sukuna's thick cock pushes into you. This time, you gasp needily when his large hands knead your flesh, and his nails dig into your skin as he lifts you up and down on his throbbing hardness. This time, you meet the snaps of his hips eagerly, taking him deeper, making the act faster and more passionate as you ride him shamelessly until you are both grunting and gasping loudly, and the warm water splashes out of the large tub anytime your bodies connect in those passionate and frenzied moves. Both of you cry out loudly when your pleasure reaches its peak at the same time.

When Sukuna is at home, you can almost believe you are living a normal life in the mortal world. Of course, a life very different from your former one. A life as a princess, maybe, or a queen, who is living in a castle, wrapped in luxuries, with nothing to do except improve your newly acquired reading skills and help your loyal servant prepare decadent meals that you eat with your husband before he leads you to your opulent bed chamber where you both read and share the occasional laugh about an amusing passage in a book until your low moans fill the room while your lips and bodies meet in a passionate union.

You almost succeed in pretending that you are still alive.

Almost.

But then Sukuna leaves the temple to fulfill his duty as Death, and you become too aware again that the windows are only enchanted to show day and night and a blurry landscape instead of the eternal night and the nothingness surrounding Sukuna's temple.

And that's when you feel the unsettling presence of the complete silence choking you again. That's when you feel the absolute absence of life closing in on you again as if the temple walls are moving closer and closer to you.

You can only escape for so long into the fantasy world of the books you are able to read now. And Uraume isn't very helpful with how they seem to avoid you except when dressing you or cooking with you.

You catch yourself humming under your breath to comfort yourself. The humming turns into soft singing. At first, you feel a bit weird about how loud your voice sounds, but soon, you become braver and sing at an average volume, unafraid of how your voice fills the marble rooms of the temple with its clear sound. You are surprised by how many songs you remember. Songs from your childhood, folk songs from your village, popular songs from the big cities you heard performed at the harvest festival every ear.

You get so comfortable with it that you don't think twice about singing, even when Sukuna is at home. You only realize what you are doing when you hear him chuckle softly behind you, and you gasp and stop singing and turn around to see him standing in the open doorway, leaning against the door frame with his muscular arms crossed in front of his broad chest, his white cloak painted with the scarlet pattern of a soul claimed.

He smirks at you,

"Don't let me interrupt you. I am just unfamiliar with such sounds here in my domain. But it sounds lovely. Keep singing for me, my little bird."

You feel intimidated all of a sudden now that his red eyes are watching you, but you swallow down the nervousness and continue singing the song you were in the middle of before Sukuna entered the room. A song as old as your village, kept alive from generation to generation, speaking of the human longing for company, a home, a fire to keep you warm, and a love to comfort you.

Sukuna's gaze is glued to you, a strange emotion flickering over his god-like features. Something akin to longing, you think. Something akin to sadness even. But before you can wonder too much about it, he turns away from you and leaves the room without any further word.

When you wake up the next morning, you can't move. Your eyes fly open in panic, only to realize you are lying draped over your husband's broad, muscular body, your naked skin pressing against his, one thigh thrown over his hip, your head resting on his buff chest. And what made you unable to move are his strong arms that are wrapped tightly around you, holding you in their firm embrace while he is still fast asleep.

Your breathing calms again, and a small smile lifts your lips as you relax against Sukuna's warm body, letting his strong embrace pull you back to sleep.

"Sukuna, look!"

You are walking next to him on the path leading from his throne back to his temple when you spot it. A bright green patch of color in the otherwise dim and monotone landscape of greys and browns.

You hurriedly walk over to it, only to realize that, to your utter astonishment, it seems to be a cherry tree sprout growing bravely out of the seemingly dead ground of this Kingdom of Death.

You lift your head to look at Sukuna, only to find him staring at the tiny sprout bewilderedly.

Before you can ask him what's wrong, he stomps towards the small flower, yanks it out of the earth, and burns it with a swish of his hand, making you take a hurried step back and gasp,

"Why... why did you do this?"

His eyes glow viciously in the dim light when he turns to look at you.

"A flower like that doesn't belong here! This is the land of the dead!"

He stomps away, his white cloak billowing behind him as you can only stare after him with a confused frown.

Why does a little delicate flower bother him so much?

It is later during dinner when you dare ask him again. Sukuna's gaze is stern, his expression filled with a cold rage that makes you gulp fearfully.

"You don't know why I am upset? Then let me tell you, my little bride. Nothing grows here! No life exists here! That is how it always was! But now you are here with your singing and your liveliness, and suddenly, a symbol of renewal and hope grows in the middle of my kingdom! I disturbed the balance! By bringing you here, I disturbed it! You brought life into the realm of Death!"

"B... but that doesn't make sense. I died. I took my own life to follow you here!"

"And yet, you are still so ... so full of life. It's not right!"

You gulp hard, instinctively trying to hide the hurt you feel at his words. You bow to him, muttering,

"Forgive me, my Lord."

"I told you not to call me that."

You don't answer him but just get up from the table and hastily walk deeper inside the temple, fleeing from his words that cut deeper than the dagger that you used to slit your own throat with.

Tears are gathering in your eyes. You cannot bring yourself to care about whether you are allowed to leave the table before Sukuna or not. If he wants, he can punish you later, and you will endure whatever punishment he sees fit.

You wipe angrily at the tears that spill over as you stumble into the library and close the heavy door behind you. Why does it hurt so much? You came here because you agreed to his cruel conditions. You sacrificed yourself to save your sister. It was supposed to be a marriage of convenience. Come here, get wed to Death, and warm his bed. It was something you were supposed to hate. So why does it feel like you are being ripped apart upon feeling like your husband rejects your presence?

You huddle into one of the oversized armchairs, hiding your face behind a random book you grab from the table in a fruitless attempt to distract yourself.

That is where Sukuna finds you later that night.

You lift your head from the open book in your lap when you hear the door opening and see Sukuna's tall, broad figure looming in the open doorway. His red eyes glow devilishly in the dim light of the room.

"Don't run from me, brat."

A sad laugh escapes your lips, and you close the book you couldn't focus on anyway, lifting your head to glare at him.

"I thought you didn't want to have me around. So shouldn't you be glad if I run?"

"I never said that."

"But you think something is wrong with me and that it was a mistake to bring me here."

You hate the way your voice breaks at the end, turning into a teary sob as fresh tears spill over and slowly run down your cheeks. You don't understand yourself anymore. You don't understand why this bothers you so much, why you are so hurt by his words.

You should be glad if he doesn't want to spend time in your presence! You should be glad if he decides to let you go and fall into the nothingness of eternal sleep! You should even be glad if he decides to send you back to the mortal world as a curse that lives in your family's house!

Anything should be better than being forced to live here in his temple and be bound to him! But here you are with an aching heart and tears running down your cheeks because apparently, somehow, during the last months, you grew attached to Sukuna, and somehow, knowing he thinks you don't belong with him makes your heart break in ways you didn't know before.

Sukuna stares at you, a baffled expression on his beautiful face. The silence stretches on, deafening, suffocating, making you ball your hands helplessly into fists.

But then your husband moves. Sukuna marches towards you with large, sure steps, and before you know what is happening, he grabs you and pulls you up from your armchair and against his tall, broad body.

"That's not what I meant. I apologize for my careless words. There is nothing wrong with you. I am just... surprised by what you do to me."

His words make you lift your head to look up at him, blinking against the tears as his large hand cups your cheek.

"I don't understand, Sukuna. What do I do to you?"

His red eyes flicker with an array of emotions. Regret, pain, longing. He looks so strangely human right now. As if he isn't an almighty God who reigns over this Kingdom of Death and has the final say in the fate of every soul who comes here.

His voice is soft like a caress, low and velvety, but filled with a sadness that surprises you.

"Don't you see? You made a flower of life grow in the depths of the afterlife. When you sing and laugh and hug me with that warm, soft body, there is so much life everywhere around me. I am Death. I am used to being alone. I am used to numbness, to silence, to nothingness. It is part of my punishment. But now you are here, and you fill everything with colors and sounds and warmth. You are a source of light in this eternal darkness. And it... it unsettled me when I saw the extent of your power."

You blink at him in utter astonishment.

"But Sukuna... you are Death. How could you be unsettled by anything? What effect can someone like me even have on you? What power could I ever hold?"

He huffs softly, a sound that reverberates in his broad chest.

"I have existed as Death for eons. And it was always an existence in solitude. It's the irony of being me. Death belongs to life. It is inevitable. And yet, everyone who lives chooses to ignore it. They push it away, they demonize it, they make a taboo of it. I was always just a fearful whisper. I am something the mortals try to pretend doesn't exist until their last moments, when all hope is lost. Their delusion is so strong that I can walk through the middle of a crowded city filled with mortals, and no one will notice me. That's how much they banished me from their existence. I am invisible to them. They can see me only in the moments right before they die."

He stops momentarily as if to let his words sink in while his gleaming red eyes gaze deeply into yours. Something about what he said makes no sense. You frown.

"But... But I.."

"But you saw me. Yes, I know. You weren't supposed to be able to see me. But you did. Do you begin to see what I mean? You talked to me, and I was greatly amused by it but, at the same time, utterly fascinated. Do you think I go around randomly making deals with people? So many beg me in their last moments, but I always ignore their pleas. But you were different. You weren't standing on the threshold between life and death, but you still saw me. That's why I offered a deal to you. I was curious. But I wasn't prepared for what you would do to me. I wasn't prepared for what it would do with me when you talk to me and eat with me and bathe with me or when you kiss me and lay with me and find pleasure in it. I wasn't prepared for what it means to be seen by someone."

Sukuna's thumb brushes gently over your cheek, wiping your tears away while his red eyes gaze deeply into yours. He is a God, yet he is so human now. His words make your chest feel tight, and more tears well up in your eyes. But this time they aren't for you. Those tears are for him. 

You realize that you are pressing your body tightly against him, wrapping your arms around him, and holding him. Hugging Death and looking at him with a gaze full of compassion.

"And I will keep seeing you, Sukuna. You aren't just a shadow. You are very real, and you aren't unspeakable or evil."

This makes him raise an eyebrow, his red gaze burning into yours.

"You don't think Death is evil? If you could, wouldn't you bring an end to it? Isn't that the ultimate goal mortals want to achieve? To defeat Death?"

You gulp hard but shake your head, refusing to avert your gaze but instead looking deeply into Sukuna's gleaming red eyes.

"No. You have a right to exist. Death belongs to this world just like life does. Why would anyone value their life if they knew it was everlasting? Many things are so much more special because of their fleeting nature. Your position brings a certain beauty to the world, a certain urgency, that wouldn't be there otherwise. Death can be cruel and unfair. But it belongs to this world. There could be no real value of life without you."

Surprise flickers over his face before it gives way to a pleased expression.

"I knew from the start that you are brave. And maybe fate sent you here to conquer Death after all. You definitely have conquered me."

A smile lifts his lips, so beautiful and flawless that it's not hard to believe that he once was an angel. Red eyes as beautiful as jewels glitter in the soft glow of the candlelight, making your heart flutter.

You look up at Sukuna, reaching out to touch his cheek too. He is so much bigger than you. Tall and broad. Death is standing in front of you, powerful and merciless, and yet you feel no fear anymore. His red eyes are soft when they look at you. His large hand is gentle when it cups your cheek. His voice is full of tenderness when he asks,

"Will you sing for me again?"

You smile at him and nod gently.

He picks you up and carries you to the bedroom, his lips finding yours several times on the way while your small hands cup his beautiful face, and you kiss him back eagerly.

You sing for him again when you are in bed, and he lies beside you, his hand playing with your hair. You sing even while he undresses you, parting your robe and exposing your naked breasts to him. Your chest heaves, and your voice flutters, but you keep singing even while Sukuna cups one of your breasts with his large hand and squeezes it gently, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple.

You keep singing, only interrupted by short, breathy gasps when his hand travels down further and slips between your naked legs. He is so loving tonight. His touch is tender, his large hands surprisingly gentle. Long, strong fingers caress you in a way that makes your whole body fill with heat. He isn't taking from you tonight. He is giving to you.

And you fall apart under his tender touch, spreading your legs for him shamelessly, lifting your hips to press your naked cunt against his hand, letting him feel how wet you are for him and how much you long for his touch.

You only stop singing when you can't form coherent words anymore, and your song turns into needy sobs and loud moans. Your hips buck, and you whine when Sukuna's fingers spread your creamy wetness over your folds and over your pulsing nub that he caresses slowly.

He keeps touching you, keeps caressing that little bundle of nerves that sends shocks of desire through your body, almost overwhelming in its intensity. 

Loud gasps of Sukuna's name fall from your lips. The heat and pressure become so intense that you think you can't take it anymore. Your tiny hand's claw at his large one between your legs.

But Sukuna is unrelenting,

"No, let me. Let your husband take care of his beautiful bride."

A loud, raw scream falls from your lips as the pleasure crashes over you in hot, unrelenting waves, and your body arches up, thighs twitching as your swollen nub pulses hotly against Sukuna's large, firm fingers. He keeps rubbing it, slow but firm, and you feel hot wetness gush out of you and over his hand while you scream his name and twitch helplessly in his arms.

He is breathing heavily, his red eyes gleaming as he watches you intently. 

"So beautiful for me, my sweet bride."

He pulls his hand away, but only to push your thighs wide apart, exposing your naked, wet heat to his hungry gaze. And his face gets pressed against your soppy cunt, mouth licking up your wet mess. Your hands tangle in his pink hair, tugging on it, crying out as your head falls back on the pillow when your husband pushes his tongue into you and licks and kisses you.

You fall apart for Sukuna that night on his fingers and on his tongue. And when he finally takes you with his cock, it is slow and intense. He faces you this time, kneeling between your spread legs and capturing your lips in a kiss when he sinks down on you and claims you with his thick cock.

He is everything you see and feel, tall and big, a mountain of muscles, and a cock that fills you so completely. He takes you with slow, strong thrusts that make you clutch his muscular back and moan his name while you chase peak after peak of blinding pleasure until you are so exhausted that you fall asleep right there in Sukuna's strong arms while his low voice whispers to you,

"You sing the most beautiful songs for me, my little bird."

"Mortals always say they will love each other until death do them part. What do you think that means for us?"

Sukuna's lips are lifted in an amused grin as he asks you the question.

He is lying next to you, his beautiful naked body laid out for your admiring gaze on top of the dark red silk sheets. His chin is probed up lazily on one large hand as he watches you, letting his gleaming red gaze trail slowly over your equally naked body.

You smile at him, reaching out to run a hand down his muscular arm, tracing his biceps and the black bands around them with your fingertips before they wander to his broad chest. You let your small hand rest there, fingers sprawling over his firm muscles, right where his heart would beat if he were a living being.

"I would say this means nothing and no one can do us part. It means our love will last until the end of time, just like Death will."

Sukuna's large hand lands on top of yours, covering your hand completely under his. He sounds pleased when he murmurs in his low voice,

"My bride is not only brave but also smart."

You laugh softly at his words before you lift your head to look deeply into his eyes.

"Sukuna?"

"Yes, my love?"

"You told me I could sit on a throne next to yours if I like."

His red eyes glitter in the firelight as he cocks his head curiously, a small smug grin lifting the corners of his mouth.

"Yes, I did."

"Is that what you want?"

"It is your choice, but yes, I would like it if you sat next to me."

"Then I will do so."

There is respect in Sukuna's gaze when he gives you a nod to signal that he will set things in motion.

You know this is where you belong. By Sukuna's side.

One day, you will see your mother and your sisters standing in front of your husband's throne of skulls, but you don't fear for their souls. You will sit next to Sukuna when it happens and guide them to eternal peace, where they can finally rest free of all pain and worries.

You are Death's Bride.

You kiss him gently farewell before he leaves for the mortal world to reap the souls of the dying. You greet him with a smile when he returns, hugging him tightly and helping him out of his coat. You wash the blood off him, you kiss him, you talk to him. You fill his dark kingdom with light, just like he said.

And he lets you.

He even laughs softly when another little green sprout fights its way through the rotten soil next to the sea of blood.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! I didn't think this story would get so long, but once I started working on it, I got dragged into Sukuna's world and didn't want to leave again. The power he has over me!!

I hope you enjoyed this story!! Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!!

This is the last story for my Halloween Event 2023! I am so happy that I could write all the stories I wanted! Thank you so much to everyone who read a story (or maybe several) of this event!!

time for bed !

𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

NSFW! minors do not interact! 18+ only!

🌸Word count: 7.8K

🌸AU: The story of how the new bodyguard fucked his hot-headed CEO

🌸CW: humiliation, bratty reader, brat tamer! Toji, mean! Toji, face slapping, name calling (mainly 'bitch' and 'brat'), use of 'Princess' and 'little doll', unprotected sex, daddy kink, age gap, almost predatory vibes from Toji, hair pulling

🌸A/N: Sorry this took so long! I'm currently working on the last chapter of Uncle Toji as well, so you can expect that in the coming weeks!!!

Main story🔞>>

No one told you that you were going to have a change in bodyguards. You only found out when Bora came in to remind you of a meeting so you left your office, only to see a taller, less pudgy— actually, ripped man standing by Bora’s table. He was staring at you quietly with a dark gaze, his green eyes sharp and analytical. You glanced at Bora, who was smiling at the man with such an adorable blush on her cheeks that you had to turn back to him and take a better look. 

This guy had dark, black hair that was styled up, but you’re not sure if it was considered neat or messy. Maybe both. It suited his sharp face and his beady eyes that seemed to bore right into you. He had a scar at the corner of his lips, which made him look scary. Even more so when his lip twitched. You’re not sure if he was trying to smile at you, or if he was showing discomfort in seeing you. 

Whatever it was, you’re not the type to have emotional connections with your employees anyway. So you rolled your eyes to the front and walked forward to the lift. The man followed a few steps behind you, together with Bora. It was only until you were standing before the elevator and the new bodyguard had stepped forward to press on the ‘down’ button, that Bora finally introduced him to you. 

“Oh! This is Toji Fushiguro and he is your new bodyguard.” 

You turned to look up at the tall man, who simply dipped his head in a silent greeting before staring back at you. You dropped your gaze down his body and up again, giving him a once-over. Then, you turned away to Bora without saying a word to him. 

“What happened to Shino?” 

Bora actually looked nervous as she mumbled, “Um… he quit yesterday.”

“Why?” 

You already knew why. 

You weren’t the best boss ever. You had a temper. You were uncontrollable. Everyone was afraid of you. You had never mistreated any employee, but that didn’t mean you were a favourite. No employee had ever gotten close to you, or even tried. You were just too good at chasing people away with your personality. 

So when Bora hesitated to answer and the lift finally arrived, Toji held the door open and you headed straight into the box, not caring to hear the lousy explanation Bora would give. Toji had to check his phone for the floor level of your next meeting, so you muttered, still facing the closed doors of the elevator. 

“Level 17.”

You were walking while answering an incoming phone call when Toji suddenly took your folder and your handbag from you without being asked. He had never done this before, because you never asked for your handbags to be held for you, or your confidential documents. And honestly, you didn’t actually need someone to do these things for you. But as you listened to Mr. Jung on the phone, you watched Toji carrying your things like they weighed nothing, like this was the most natural thing for him to do. You decided that he wasn’t so bad afterall. 

Well, not like you thought that he was bad, at all. Apart from being so broody and quiet, he was great at his job. People were afraid of your guard dog and he was doing a good job at keeping you safe the past week. You didn’t think you’d lasted so long without screaming at a new employee before. 

When you got off the phone with Mr. Jung, you reached out to Toji for your things. “Thanks,” you muttered. 

Toji only glanced at you for a split second before turning back to the front. “I got it,” was all he said. 

You were taken aback by his answer to say the least. The both of you hardly talked but whenever you did, they were short and straight to the point. This time wasn’t an exception. What was shocking to you was that he basically went against your instructions. Never had an employee directly under you ever done this before. 

Yet somehow, his confidence and his firmness made you feel that it was okay. You’re not sure what the logic was behind it but you let it slide this time. 

And the time after that. And the time after that. And all the other times after that. 

Now, you didn’t even have to pick up your handbag because Toji proactively did it for you. And you let him. You had to admit that you enjoyed being taken care of like this. Aside from this act that he did, he would also help you into your coat or hold his arm out for you to grab onto if you were on uneven terrain. 

Despite the short and professional conversations that you shared, you were getting along well and fine. That was until you received bad news on the phone, about one month into his time working for you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!!” you screamed the moment you put down the phone.

You got off your chair and started pacing the office. Your mind was racing and the blood in your body was boiling. You stood by your floor-to-ceiling windows in hopes of the city view giving you a bit of comfort. But nothing about you was calm. You didn’t notice Toji quietly entering your office with the cup of coffee you asked for. You were blindsided by your anger as you spoke to yourself. 

“How did we lose two big investors today?! God! Fucking incompetent shits. Fuck!!!”

Your pacing was getting more frantic as your footsteps turned into stomps. Feeling uncomfortable in your heels, you let out a frustrated groan and bent down to take your shoe off. You sent your left heel flying to the wall, where you missed Toji by just a few centimetres. You flickered your gaze to him staring at you with a certain glint in his eyes. Feeling somewhat peeved by that look he was giving you, you bent down again to take the other shoe off, leaving you barefoot now. Just as you brought your hand up to get ready to launch it at the wall, you glanced at Toji again, only to catch a quirk of his eyebrow. 

“What?!” you snapped. 

The corners of his lips were turned down as he shook his head. “Nothing.” 

He kept your gazes locked, however, not blinking once, not looking away even after a few seconds. And something in those steely green eyes of his made the fire in you die a little. So, instead, you ripped out another groan and threw your heels on the ground before squatting in your place. You cradled your head in your hands as you despaired silently. 

Your tough act broke apart when angry and frustrated tears found you. You didn’t hear Toji picking your heels off the floor but you were surprised when you saw a piece of tissue in front of you. You looked up and saw Toji squatting in front of you, looking unbothered as ever. You accepted the tissue from him and started dabbing at your tears. Toji stayed there with you, his elbow resting on a knee, his other hand holding onto your pair of heels. 

“Go away, Toji,” you muttered without looking at him, feeling quite embarrassed. 

“Let me bring you to the couch, at least. You can cry there.”

You raised your head to glare at him. Why did he have to state the obvious to a prideful and egoistic woman? “I’m not crying!” 

Toji’s eyebrow lifted but he turned the ends of his lips down and nodded. “Okay, you’re not.” 

“I really am not!” you whined and threw your tissue at him. 

This time, he looked like he stopped breathing. He tilted his head down just so slightly so that he was staring at you with a certain look in his eyes. He licked his lips. 

“That’s very rude,” was all he said. 

He was definitely admonishing you for that. And you should feel degraded and mad that an employee was speaking to you this way. But maybe it was the way he was postured, so calm and collected, or perhaps it was his dark green eyes glaring at you like a scolding father. Either way, you felt yourself backing down. You dropped your gaze and apologised. 

“Sorry,” you whispered. 

You must have forgotten when the last time you said the word ‘sorry’ was. It felt so foreign rolling off your tongue, and it made you feel so embarrassed. You didn’t even know why you had to apologise to him when you had never done so to any of your employees before. 

“You’re alright, Princess.” 

The irrational annoyance at having to apologise to your bodyguard was immediately washed away when you heard the last word of Toji’s sentence. You immediately lifted your head to look at him, only to see him picking up the wet tissue on the ground. He turned to you and saw you staring, which made him quirk an eyebrow. 

“Wanna get up now? And wear your shoes you so nicely threw at me?” 

You immediately flushed red. God, no one had ever had the balls to speak to you like this. Not even your love interests because you were just too proud. You never would have let anyone speak down to you like this. Yet for some rhyme or reason, Toji made it so easy for you to accept it. It’s like he just naturally turned you into this submissive little girl. 

“I’m sorry for throwing my shoes at you,” you whispered guiltily. 

Toji hummed. “Come on. Up.” 

He stood and held out his hand to you. You took it and let him pull you to your feet. Then, he squatted down again and actually lifted your foot to slip your heel on. You leaned down to hold yourself up by resting your hand on his shoulder. When he had helped you into your shoes again, he stood up and looked down at you. 

“Your coffee is on the table. I’ll be outside if you need me.” 

You nodded your head but grabbed his sleeve when he turned to leave. He looked back with furrowed brows. “I didn’t cry,” you told him. 

It was the first time you saw a hint of a smile on his lips. Toji nodded his head and, without another word, left the room. 

Ever since then, you had been on your best behaviour around Toji. You never threw a fit when he was around, although he would have to clean up after you whenever he came into your office after a good thrashing session. 

You’d gotten comfortable with Toji in the few months he had been working for you. Maybe a bit too comfortable. Because while he took care of you as a bodyguard at work, that didn’t mean that he was responsible for you outside of your working schedule. Which was why it was the stupidest decision to call him after a drunk night out with your friends. 

“Is everything okay?” Toji’s rough voice sounded so quiet and confused. 

You let out a big breath. “Toji. S’rry for calling but—” You hiccuped here. “Can you bring…me home? I’m… I’m not in the capacity—”

“Send me your location. I’ll be there.”

And then he hung up like this. It took you a while to do what he asked and when you finally did it, he simply replied with “17”. So while waiting for him, you went back to sit with all your rowdy friends, who were obviously not as lightweight as you were. 

By the time Toji was escorted to your table, you were already close to passing out. You barely even heard your friends openly and loudly flirting with him because you were being lifted up to stand. You frowned at the assault but when you saw that it was Toji, you immediately melted into him and let him bring you out of the restaurant. 

You’re stumbling in the lobby of the hotel, leaning into Toji while he had one arm around you securely and his other on his phone. You groaned as you nearly slammed your cheek on his broad shoulder. 

“Wh’re is Iro?”

“It’s two in the morning. Iro is off duty,” Toji grunted. 

You huffed and glared up at him. “What about your car?” You supplied every one of your bodyguards with a brand new car each time just in case Iro wasn’t available and you required them to use it. 

“I didn’t drive.”

“Why not?” You groaned and rolled your eyes, pushing away from him. He managed to grab hold of your wrist before you stepped back too far. You were frowning at him as you scolded, “I gave you a car for a reason, Toji.”

Toji’s gaze hardened. “I was out with some friends for drinks. I wasn’t planning on working tonight.”

That immediately shut you up and sobered you up. “Oh,” you mumbled in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

He didn’t say anything but simply turned back to his phone. He managed to get a cab to your place. The entire time the both of you were quiet and the awkward tension was hanging over you like a heavy rain cloud. Toji was still holding onto your handbag, even when he walked you up to your apartment. 

He knew the passcode to your place and got you home safely. He placed your handbag on the coffee table before turning to you and breaking the silence. 

“You’re going to be okay alone?”

You didn’t respond to that question. Instead, you took a step closer to him and asked, “Are you mad at me?”

“For what?”

You shrugged and looked away. “For being a stuck-up bitch,” you mumbled. 

“Doesn’t matter if I am or not.”

You lifted your head to frown at him. “What do you mean?”

Toji shrugged. “You can be a stuck-up bitch all you want and I can’t be mad at you.”

“You can,” you argued. “And you should.” He raised an eyebrow here so you explained, “I mean, you’re the only one… I mean… I deserve it for being a bitch to you.”

Here, his lips pressed together as he shrugged. You knew he was agreeing with you. But he didn’t say anything else. So you walked over to him and grabbed his black shirt that hugged his body so nicely, tugging on the cotton material. 

“Sorry, Toji. For making you work when you shouldn’t, and for being a bitch.”

Toji finally sighed and nodded. “Alright.” When you didn’t let go of him and continued giving him the puppy eyes, he frowned. “What?” 

Your lips jutted into a pout. “Say you forgive me.”

“I forgive you,” he repeated in a deadpanned tone. You continued pouting at him, making him a little impatient. “What is it?” he grumbled. 

“You didn’t call me Princess. You’re still mad at me.”

This surprised Toji to say the least. He didn’t think you cared, or even liked being called that. He only used that term once because he was annoyed, to say the least, that you were throwing a tantrum at your age. He meant it as an insult, and he hadn’t planned on doing it again. He wanted to keep his good paying job, even if it meant having to put up with your princessy attitude. 

Toji awkwardly patted your little fist on his shirt. “I’m not mad at you, Princess.”

Something in your eyes changed when he said that and Toji caught it. His brows furrowed as he focused on your features, trying to understand what he was really looking at. The moment he saw your bottom lip push out in another pout, he immediately knew what he was dealing with. 

Just to make sure though, he wanted to gauge your reaction when he patted you on the head lightly. “You have a good rest, Princess.”

And you gave him the very reaction he was expecting. Your eyes rounded even more and your cheeks were flushed. You let go of his shirt and dropped your hands to your sides. Toji thought you looked so small like this. He waited for you to say something and when you didn’t, he nodded and took a step back. Just as he turned on his heels to head for the door, he heard you breathe his name. He turned to frown at you. 

You were nervous for some reason. You’re not sure why. Actually, you didn’t even know why you were stopping him from leaving. You could blame it on the alcohol because you would never do this sober. But you knew you would definitely think about doing this when you eyed his veiny, rough hand lifting to his face, his finger scratching his chin. You just needed the push from the alcohol to act on it. 

“You’re not mad at me?” you asked again. 

Toji shook his head. The both of you continued staring at each other; Toji waiting for you to speak while you tried to think of something else to say. He raised an eyebrow, getting a little annoyed now. You pursed your lips and looked away. Toji gave you a few more seconds before he sighed. He was about to walk away when you spoke up again, your voice the softest he had ever heard. He wondered if he imagined the slight tremble in your voice. 

“Are you going back to find your friends?” 

He turned back around to see you just so slightly pouting at him. He ran his hand through his hair as he looked at his watch. You couldn’t help your eyes roaming to his broad shoulders and muscular biceps. 

“Not sure.” Toji looked up at you. When he saw you nibbling on your bottom lip, he quirked an eyebrow. “Is there something you need?”

You shook your head quickly. He knew you wanted to say more but when you didn’t, he decided to turn away again, this time in the pretense of leaving. He knew you were going to call out to him again, which you did. He swiveled around and threw a hand up in exasperation. 

“What do you want?” Toji saw the kicked puppy look on your face and immediately regretted his actions. He took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Princess,” he started gently but frustratedly. “You want something from me. And until you tell me, I won’t know what you want.”

You hesitated again. But when you saw the lift of his scary eyebrow, you mumbled something under your breath. There was no way Toji could hear you because you’re not even sure what you actually said. Yet Toji knew. 

“What?” he muttered. You knew he was teasing you now from the way he crossed his beefy arms and his lips curled slightly in a smirk. “Come closer and let me hear you, Princess.”

You hesitated moving forward. You shuffled a little closer to him and only stayed staring. Toji lifted a sharp eyebrow again. Hanging your head, you mumbled your request again. You stopped breathing when the man bumped your chin up with his rough hand. You were staring up at him with unblinking eyes now. He was so close that you could see the light shadow of his stubble. 

“You asked if I could bring you to bed?” Toji repeated, except it sounded like he was mocking you. 

You gulped and nodded your head. Drinking had never made you so submissive or timid. Ever. And no one had made you such a docile girl before. Ever. 

You felt your heart steel when Toji scoffed. “I’m not your babysitter, sweetheart. Why would I bring you to bed?” Your lips parted slightly to say something but you stopped when he challenged, “Just get to the point and tell me you want to be fucked, why don’t you?”

You gasped. “Wha—!”

Toji let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. “And now you’re acting like that’s not true?” 

It was. But that wasn’t the point. 

“This is very unprofessional of you, Toji,” you snapped, your face heating up now. You just hoped he would pin your blush on your anger. 

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m wrong?” You continued glaring at him. “So you don’t actually want to be fucked by my big cock?”

Your heart was pounding now. You wanted to be dicked down so bad. Especially by your hot bodyguard. But you were a prideful person. 

So you crossed your arms and announced, “You’re an asshole. You’re a fucking piece of shit, Toji. I’m your boss!”

Toji crossed his arms and shrugged. “My boss that wants me to fuck her.”

“Fuck you, Toji!” you swore as you held your hand up to swing at him. 

Toji caught your wrist in midair and quirked an eyebrow. “Little girl going to hit me for speaking the truth?” You continued glaring at him and sucking on your inner cheek. Why was your heart flipping at the disrespect you were getting from him? “This is what you wanted, huh?” 

“What—”

“Being a needy little girl who needs to be tucked into bed when you just want to be fucked good?”

“Fuck you,” you spat at him. 

Toji narrowed his eyes on your angry expression. “Do not curse at me, Princess.”

You were throwing a fit now as you stood your ground and said slowly, with more emphasis, “Fuck. You. Toji.”

Your heart jumped when Toji threw your hand to the side. He took a step closer, towering over you like a huge wall. You gulped at the proximity and the dark look in his eyes. 

“You’re a spoilt brat, you know?” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Your tantrums and your shitty attitude. I put up with all of that just fine. But being a needy bitch with that attitude of yours is just distasteful.”

You felt your throat swell up and your nose prickling. Did he have to be so brutally honest with his words? 

Toji saw your eyes glistening over with tears now. He might have gone overboard with his insults. He wouldn’t be surprised if he lost his job tomorrow. Especially when he saw the first teardrop fall from your eye. He cradled your cheek with his calloused hand and roughly swiped his thumb over the tear streak. 

“Stop crying.” 

You only sniffled as more tears fell. Toji let out a loud sigh, now engulfing your face with both hands to wipe your tears away. 

“You’re such a brat,” he grumbled under his breath. 

“You’re mean,” you retorted in your wobbly voice. 

Toji looked amused by your response. “What?” He chuckled softly. “I’m mean? Have you heard yourself curse at your employees?”

“Behind their backs though,” you mumbled quietly. You did say some mean things about them. 

Toji scoffed out a laugh. He pushed your face away, causing you to gasp and glare at him. He clicked his tongue. “Good night, brat.”

Upon hearing that sentence, you immediately dropped your tough act as you gaped at him. “You’re leaving?” You sounded like such a kid. 

“Yep.” He was slowly walking backwards now. 

“So you’re not actually going to fuck me?” 

This made Toji stop in his tracks. You just had to say it. Dancing around the issue was not going to get you anywhere. He lifted an eyebrow.

“I only fuck good girls.”

You craved his approval. You perked up and wiped your tears quickly. “I’m a good girl.”

“And I don’t fuck young girls.”

“I’m not that young!” 

“We have at least a 15-year gap between us. You’re plenty young, sweetheart.”

You whined. “So? You hate young, tight pussy?”

Toji squinted at you. He made sure to look you in the eyes as he said, “No. Little girls just can’t take my big, daddy cock.” Your heart slammed against your ribcage and was almost going into overdrive. “You’re not going to be able to handle me, Princess.”

“Try me.”

“Try you?” he repeated in a chuckle. He glanced away as he ran his palm over his mouth. When he looked back at you, his eyes were dark and dangerous. “I’m not going to fuck my boss and ruin her with my cock, Princess.”

You levelled eyes with him. “What if your boss ordered you to fuck her?”

Toji didn’t look away or blink. “Doesn’t work. I want to hear her beg.”

You paused. He was going to degrade you into a begging whore. Knowing that you were too prideful for this, Toji blew air out his nose and smirked. He had thought you were done arguing until you walked forward and hooked a finger on his belt loop. 

“Please, Toji? Fuck me?” He kept staring down at your puppy eyes and your little pout. You slid your hand down to tug on the buckle of his belt. “Please fuck me with your big cock, Daddy,” you mewled. “I’ll be a good girl for you.”

Toji licked his bottom lip as he reached out to cup your face. You tilted your head and nuzzled your cheek into his palm. He lined your bottom lip with his thumb, which only made you slither your tongue out to meet his digit. You gave him a sultry look as your tongue played with his thumb before enclosing your lips around it. You could hear Toji’s low groan. 

You reached your other hand out to start unbuckling his belt, only for Toji to pull his thumb out of your mouth and engulf your small hands with one of his. You gaped up at him, holding your breath. 

“Brats don’t deserve my cock,” he said slowly and quietly. 

Immediately, you slid your hand out from under his and tipped your toes to be closer to him. It was a very small action but you caught Toji pulling back a little, as if trying to put some distance between you. So you reached up to cradle his nape and try to pull his head closer to you, although he wouldn't budge. 

“I’m sorry!” you apologised, giving him the most desperate look ever. “I won't be a brat to you anymore, I swear!” 

Toji scoffed and turned his head away. “Don’t make me laugh.”

Impatient that he was just brushing you aside, you let go of his nape and stepped up on your couch so that you were facing him again. Toji was glaring up at you now. So you leaned forward and circled your arms around his neck, pressing your face to his cheek. 

“Please,” you whined into his skin. You even gave him whispery kisses in between words as you pleaded, “You’re the only person that I will let dominate me.”

You could feel the tension in his jaw as he clenched down on his teeth. As you continued kissing and licking a trail down his neck, you were aware of Toji going very still. So, in one last attempt, you tried pulling him closer again to whisper in his ear with a hand on the back of his head. 

“Daddy Toji,” you purred in the sultriest voice you could have ever made. 

Almost at once, you yelped and clenched your arms around his neck as Toji’s strong arm wrapped around you and swooped you towards his body. You were suddenly carried like a baby, sitting on Toji’s hip with your legs and arms around his body like a koala bear. You realised belatedly that you were moving, and only then you found out that Toji was walking in the direction of your room. 

The moment he entered your bedroom, Toji threw you on the bed so roughly that your hair was all over your face. You swept it all away just in time to watch the silhouette of him undoing his belt at the foot of your bed. It was dark but you just knew he was staring back at you. Wanting to see the expression on his face, you flipped around and started crawling towards your bedside table to turn on the lamp, only to gasp when a strong hold catches you by the waist and reins you back. 

“Running away, little doll?” You shivered at how rough Toji’s voice sounded next to your ear. With his other hand, he curled your hair behind your ear and moaned into your neck. “You’re not about to turn me on and leave, are you, Princess?”

You shook your head, turning your head slightly so that you could feel the tip of his nose brushing your cheek. “I wanted to turn the light on,” you noticed your quiet voice shaking a little. 

If Toji heard the nervous tremble of your voice, he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he easily picked you up and started walking around the bed to reach your bedside table. “Good. Daddy wants to see the look on your face when he fucks you,” he muttered into your ear. He let go of you and landed a big slap on your ass. “Go on, then.”

Twisting your body, you tried to reach for your bedside table. Your arm was a bit too short to touch the lamp, so you pushed your ass out to lean against Toji’s crotch and used his erection to steady yourself as you reached out for the lamp. 

The moment you managed to turn the light on, Toji grabbed your hair close to your scalp and fell forward so that you were laying on the bed beneath him, your ass still glued to his groin, your cheek smushed on your bed, his other hand holding himself up on your bed so his big build doesn’t crush you. Your heart was pitter-pattering at this point. No one had ever had the balls to be so rough with you before. You were incredibly turned on. 

“Mm…” Toji groaned into your ear, the tip of his nose pressing into your hair. “So eager for my cock, huh?” 

You nodded your head almost desperately. “Touch me, Toji.”

The man tugged on your hair. “That’s Daddy Toji to you, little girl.”

“Touch me, Daddy Toji,” you breathed. 

At once, he pushed himself away from you. Your breath was stuck in your chest when he flipped you around roughly and pulled on your legs to bring you closer to the edge of the bed. Toji was a tall man. As you stared up at him, you were once again reminded of how physically huge and tall he was. And suddenly you were getting cold feet. Because he definitely should have a size that would match his physique, and you just knew he was going to be huge. 

You guessed that he saw something on your face because he clicked his tongue and gave you a light smack to the side of your thigh. “Don’t go backing out now, sweetheart. You’re going to take this dick inside of you and you’re going to be having the best time of your life.”

You swallowed and shook your head. Of course. Yes. You could do this, you were mentally hyping yourself up. 

It’s weird because of how tough Toji was normally but he must had seen how scared you looked. You felt his rough hands on your thighs, dragging your dress up as he caressed you. You held your breath as you watched him lean down to nose your stomach, the only thing between you being your silk dress. Your eyes shut and you felt your body relax as he trailed his nose up your chest, leaving kisses in his wake. 

When he got to your neck, he glanced up to see that you had your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes shut in bliss. He wasted no time in dipping his head into the crook of your neck, giving you light bites and open-mouthed kisses. Toji moved around your throat like he was forming an invisible necklace. 

When he got to your other ear, he moaned in a voice lower and way huskier than his ever was, “You’re good, Princess. You’re going to love my cock.”

As if you were in a trance, you immediately nodded your head. And like you were under a spell, you turned your head to meet his lips for the first time ever and you swore that he tasted like everything you needed and wanted. His kiss was somehow so him; he showed dominance yet was careful with you in his kiss, treating you like the princess that you were. 

As your tongues danced, you felt Toji’s hand sliding higher up your thigh where he met your underwear. You weren’t wearing much in order to look good in your dress, and Toji appreciated it with a low moan. He easily slid his thumb under the thin string of fabric. Your lips lost contact with Toji’s as you let out a pitched moan the moment he started sliding the back of his thumb up and down your lips, spreading your wetness everywhere. 

Toji chuckled quietly. “So wet, someone must have waited a long time for this.”

You couldn’t say anything as he continued to tease you like this, letting the sound of your wet lips smacking against his thumb dirty your room. Toji, knowing that you were finally loosening up again, leaned away and this time, pulled on the crotch of your g-string to slide the back of his pointer and middle fingers against your lips instead of his thumb. He did the same motion and when his fingers were wet enough, he bent them so that his knuckles were being dragged up and down your pussy lips. 

The moans and mewls slipping out of your mouth were pornographic. Your hips were moving in tandem with his knuckles, your back was arched in pleasure — these reactions were happening without you even knowing. You couldn’t even hear the unzipping of Toji’s jeans or the clang of his belt buckle when he pulled his briefs down, not when he was rubbing circles on your clit with his knuckles, sending jolts of pleasure to every fiber of your body. You had never felt such euphoria in your life. 

Toji’s voice was nothing but a rasp when he asked, “Where do you keep your condoms?” 

Your brain was still foggy with pleasure from his ministrations that you were unresponsive. You were knocked awake when you felt a smack to your cheek. The slap stung enough to pull you out of your fervor, but light enough not to actually hurt. You blinked and focused on the gruff man towering above you. He’d stopped touching you at this point, not wanting to lose you again. 

“Condoms. Where?” he asked again, this time with more enunciation. 

You swallowed and shook your head. “I don’t keep any.”

Toji was visibly troubled now as he looked to the side. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. 

Slowly, you raised yourself up on your elbows. “What’s wrong?”

He ran his hand through his hair in frustration as he faced you. “I don’t have one on me.”

You sat up now so that you were closer to him. Your voice was airy but sure when you said, “Fuck me raw, Toji.” You could see him staring at you, wondering if this was a prank. So you reached up to grab a fistful of his shirt and pulled him closer so that you could kiss him. Then, you breathed against his lips, “Now, Daddy.”

That was all he needed. 

Toji brought his hand to your neck and pushed you away roughly, causing you to fall back on the mattress, one side of your dress strap falling off your shoulder. You were excited now as you watched him pull your g-string down your legs. Pressing the tip of his cock to your wet lips, he flickered his eyes up to meet yours. You bit down on your bottom lip, moaning as he moved his hips slowly, sliding his length up and down your slit, lubricating his cock with your juices. You were undeniably getting wetter. The sound of your lips kissing and smacking against Toji’s meat was turning the both of you on. You were mewling and he was groaning in pleasure. 

“Fuck,” Toji cursed. He had never enjoyed foreplay this much before. He was sure he was going to nut the moment he entered you. 

Darting his eyes up, Toji found you already watching him with half-lidded eyes, already looking so fucked out. The fact that he had his prideful, arrogant boss in this position just made his insides burn with a kind of desire he never felt before. He wanted to see you like this all the time; under him, being toyed with at his mercy.

Making sure to keep his eyes locked on you, on a downward stroke of his cock, he slyly positioned his tip at your inviting hole so that when he thrusted his hips again, his cockhead would slip through your lips. You let out a painful shriek the moment you felt your pussy widen, trying to fit something unfamiliar and thick. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit down on your lip, your hands now grabbing at Toji’s muscular arms, your nails piercing into his flesh. He slid further into you, giving you a pleasurably painful stretch. 

A whimper slipped past your lips and you felt a hot tear drip down the side of your face. Toji stopped, but he might as well had still been entering you because your head was throbbing and your body was burning up. All you could feel was his huge dick that was barely even inside of you and how tight your pussy was clenching around him. 

Toji brushed his hair away from his face, trying to distract himself from plunging the rest of his length inside of you. The look of pain and pleasure on your face, accompanied with your goddamn sloppy, tight pussy was going to make him sin more than once tonight. But he had to hold himself back. He was not a foolish and rash person, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to be one now. 

“Sweetheart.” Toji’s voice was faraway. He placed his hands on your knees and pushed down on them to bring them closer to your body, successfully getting your attention this time. “You alright?” 

You blinked several times, blankly. He reached forward to stroke your chin, only to accidentally slide another centimetre of his cock into you, causing you to groan and shut your eyes. Toji froze and waited. When you finally had your eyes open, you saw that he was looking worried. 

“Painful?” 

You swallowed and confessed, “A little bit. But it’s okay. You’re just the biggest I’ve had.”

Toji hummed and stroked the side of your thigh. “And you’re about the tightest pussy I’ve ever had.”

You giggled breathlessly and relaxed yourself, trying to get your walls to unclench around him. Toji leaned back a little, staring down at where barely even half his cock was buried in your pussy. He could feel you pulsing around his cockhead, trying to will yourself to loosen up. So to help you, he started churning his saliva in his mouth. He dropped his head and spat directly on your clit, the warm fluid coating your engorged bud. Using it as lubrication, Toji stroked your spit-covered clit with his thumb almost in a gentle caress. 

Your insides fluttered at his ministrations. Inch by inch, he slid slowly inside of you, distracting you with the swirling of his thumb on your sensitive pearl, easing the pain of his thick girth widening your tight pussy. He suppressed a groan, actually enjoying your mewls and whines that he just wanted to be quiet to hear them. But you felt so tight and warm that Toji cannot help but moan when he was completely sheathed inside of you. 

The image of his mouthy, ill-tempered boss at the mercy of his cock, paired with your wet and tight pussy around him, Toji had to take a moment to breathe. He didn’t want to cum yet. He couldn’t. He wanted to enjoy this while it lasted. He might actually be fired tomorrow, so he needed to make the most out of this. 

Blowing out a big breath, Toji steadied himself. He looked down at you, your face still contorted in pain and pleasure. With his hands on your knees, he spread your legs apart. He started thrusting slowly, waking you up from your daze. His pace quickly sped up until he had your tits bouncing so hard that they were out of your dress. He watched you arch your back and grab a fistful of your duvet, trying to futilely ground yourself. But he was going so fast, and so hard. You were breathless and almost seeing stars. 

Toji felt your pussy clamping up when he smacked the side of your thigh. He groaned. “You like being treated like a whore, huh?” You whined, unable to say anything as he continued rutting his hips into you. “You like being put down and degraded like the stupid little bitch you are.”

You were blabbering incoherent words now and it made Toji chuckle. He reached forward and slapped your cheek. 

“Feels good, huh?” You could only nod as you gazed up at him with half-lidded eyes. He landed another slap on your cheek, eliciting a loud mewl from you. Toji groaned. “Fuck. I could fuck you all night, baby.”

You reached up to hold his wrist, placing his hand on your neck. “Choke me, Daddy,” you plead. 

“Shit.”

Toji was incredibly turned on. To have you begging and asking to be choked, his cock felt like it was going to explode. Wrapping his fingers around your neck, you tightened your hold on his wrist. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he continued to fuck you while suppressing oxygen flow to your brain. The pleasure was so good. Toji could feel your pussy clenching on his cock at longer intervals, signalling how close you are to climaxing. 

Releasing his grip on your throat, Toji grunts, “You’re going to cum, aren’t you, Princess?” 

You could only nod your head in a daze. Toji’s stamina was incredible. He kept fucking you hard and fast, not slowing down once, just building up your climax higher and higher. 

“Good. Make some pretty noises for Daddy when you cum,” Toji cooed. 

Tightening his grip on your airway again, he sped up his fucking once again. Each time he entered you was a resounding wet slap of his hips against yours. You felt a knot forming in your stomach when Toji touched your clit, rubbing the pearl up and down like it was a joystick of a video game controller. Toji let go of your throat just as you were about to see white. 

You were a mess under him, moaning and whining like the needy little girl you were. You felt a heady pleasure when his palm struck your cheek, then the back of his fingers caressing the assaulted flesh like he regretted that decision, only to receive another slap to your face. 

Toji was relentless. He could watch you all day, just being degraded by him, thrashing about from the pleasure. But this was riling him up too. He was so close. And judging by your frequent moans and the fluttering of your pussy walls, he knew you were close too. Toji wanted to please you first but he knew that he couldn’t fuck you any longer or he would cum before you did. So he stopped his fucking and stayed buried inside of you. Now, he used his thumb to pull the flesh of your crotch upwards, exposing your clit. With his other hand, he rubbed harshly on the sensitive button, at the same time sheathing in and out of your pussy at a steady pace. 

“Oh, fuck!” you screamed, your orgasm hitting you so hard that you could only hear ringing and see white. 

Toji groaned, quickly pulling out of you. Still rubbing your clit to prolong your orgasm, he stroked his cock as he watch you wreath and cry out, your body spasming at the waves of pleasure crashing down on you. 

“Fuck,” Toji cursed under his breath as he stopped abusing your clit to focus on his own pleasure. 

His hand slid up and down his length faster now. And the moment he noticed a glistening trickle spilling out of your cunt, he let out another string of curses. He brought his cock to your clit as he came on your pussy, his white cum soaking your sex even more. You mewled at how warm the fluid was, feeling it drip along your lips. 

The room was now filled with pants and heavy breathing as you calmed down from your high. It took him a while but Toji was the first to move as he let out a deep breath and took a step back. You fluttered your eyes open to see him staring down at you, at his masterpiece, all fucked out and spent. 

Without a word, he turned away and walked off in the direction of your bathroom. You were surprised to hear the water running. After a few seconds, Toji came back and wordlessly scooped you up in his arms, bringing you to the toilet. He set you on your feet and took your dress off of you before pulling the shower door open and nudging you in. 

You were a bit uncomfortable at his silent treatment, wondering if this had made things awkward, especially when he left the bathroom to leave you to wash up. Wanting to talk to him before he left, you took a quick shower and left your bathroom without even drying yourself. You found him still in your room, sitting on the edge of the bed respectfully. He glanced up when he noticed your presence. He raised an eyebrow at your hastiness. 

“You’ll still be my bodyguard, right?” you murmured softly.

Toji hummed and stood up. “For as long as you keep me around.”

You nodded. The both of you just stared at each other, a bit awkward now that the sexual tension had been dealt with. “Are you going to stay?”

He shook his head. “Probably not a good idea. I’ll just see you on Monday.”

You nodded your head. You didn’t want to seem too needy. He was already starting towards the door when you blurted out, “Do you think we could keep doing this?”

Toji stopped in his tracks and faced you. His eyebrows lifted slightly in amusement. “What? Fucking?” 

You couldn't help the blush that crept up on you. But your pride and ego were back now that the heat of the moment was over. “Something like that,” you muttered. 

Toji laughed under his breath. “We’ll see. I only fuck good girls, remember.”

“Toji—!” 

He interrupted your whining with another quiet chuckle. You were starting to think you liked hearing his laugh. 

“Good night, Princess.”

Main story🔞>>

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© chocochipsushi 2023 all works are mine, please do not rewrite/plagiarise

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starry eyes sparking up my darkest night

pairing: aemond targaryen x female!tyrell!reader

summary: aemond has only wanted two things in his life. a dragon and to marry the pretty tyrell girl, now he has both. 

warnings: smut, literally almost all smut very little plot, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), creampie, breeding kink, light innocence kink, light size kink, use of pet names, blood is mentioned two (2) times, aemond has a huge cock i don’t make the rules, and breeder balls, eye patch gets taken OFF when aemond fucks his lady wife, implied jealousy, implied voyeurism (? just incase?), out of character aemond (?), i think thats all?

notes: REPOST FROM MY OLD BLOG. i am a whore for a villain. aemond is so hot i love him. this is a side blog, i just didnt want to post on my main blog, im fairly rusty at writing smut, so any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated!! please interact if you see this because i think tumblr hates me:((!! title credits: call it what you want by taylor swift

word count: 5.3k

The wedding had been lovely, truly, but you think everyone could tell your heart wasn’t really in it. Few smiles reached your eyes, and you couldn’t lie that a part of you had felt slightly devasted you were being married in the Dragon Pit in the sight of the Seven, and not the Godswood in Winterfell that you’d come to love during your time in Cregan Stark’s presence many years ago.

You’d thought it was a grand wedding, perhaps too grand for the marriage of a second son, but Aemond is a Prince, so what did you know, besides that and the feeling that the Hand and Queen were trying to sway your father’s loyalty to them when King Viserys joins his late wife, perhaps even go as far as to hope for the favor of your lady mother’s family.

An extravagant weeklong event. Tourneys and hunts and beautiful dinners with lots of dancing. Many lords and ladies had come, many of your friends from childhood present and even your eldest brother. It made the evening feel less lonely for you to be in the presence of people you know so well.

You had been surprised, however, to see the Princess Rhaenyra present with her husband (uncle?) and their children. You heard often of the animosity between the two families, and you were sure she wouldn’t have come. You’d been even more surprised when she had approached you at, a smile on her pretty face.

“Lady Tyrell, you make a most beautiful bride,” She smiles fondly at you.

Aemond tensed next to you, so did the Queen when her next words left her mouth before you could even let out a proper thank you for her compliment, “Though, I must say I am disappointed that your father had not chosen my own son to be your husband. We were heavily in discussion regarding it.”

Your eyebrows furrow as your head turned over in the direction of your father who was seated to your left, “I must say, Princess, I did not know I had many suitors.”

“Why would she want to marry your Strong son, dear sister, when she had better offers?” Aemond spit the words out hatefully at the same time you try to answer her, glaring over her shoulder at the son in question. Jacaerys.

You’d met him on a few occasions, and he was a kind boy. A little closer to your age than your now husband. You didn’t think you knew him well enough to warrant any sort of affections from him, but you suppose that doesn’t matter, since you’d only met Aemond once as children before your father received the letter of the marriage offer from the Hand of the King.

“Aemond,” Alicent had hissed through gritted teeth, “this is a joyous occasion, one you had wanted so desperately. So, please, do not.”

Your now husband huffed out a bitter laugh before grabbing his cup and drowning the rest of his drink. You furrow your eyebrows at her words and look to Aemond slightly confused. He wanted to desperately marry you?

Rhaenyra ignored his comment and stayed looking at you, eyebrows having a slight furrow at your words, “You are a beautiful young woman and you come from one of the great houses, I can promise you that your father was drowning in marriage offers. But I do hope you will be happy here, with my dear brother.”

She walks away before you could say anything, tensing to stop a flinch when Aemond slammed his cup down harshly.

“That fucking cunt. How dare she come over here and say all those things. As if we did not just get married. As if your husband is not sitting right fucking next to you.” He was seething, and it honestly shocked you. You have barely even spoken to him; you really didn’t think he even liked you much.

“Aemond, you will watch your mouth in front of your wife,” Alicent spoke out, slightly baffled that he would say such things in front of you, in front of your family.

Your father is tense next to you, and you place your hand on his own and squeeze. This can’t be that bad. You can endure it.

As you look at Aemond, you can’t help but wonder if he will even be so bad. As if he can hear your thoughts, his hand moves to rest tenderly on your own.

The rest of the evening blurs together until Aegon stumbled his way over to where you were seated, “I believe we should be approaching the bedding ceremony soon, dear brother?”

And though his words had been directed at your husband, you felt his lust and drunk eyes on you. The mention of the bedding ceremony had you tense, and Aegon’s eyes don’t do anything to soothe your nerves.

“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Aemond spoke without a waver in his voice. What?

Aegon’s head snapped towards his brother, “And why the fuck not? It’s tradition.”

Aemond hummed, unamused, “I will not make a spectacle of my lady wife.” His words make your heart soften slightly

“She will not be your lady wife for long if there is no proof.” Aegon tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“There will be blood on my sheets come morning and a babe in her belly,” Aemond spoke as he stood up, towering over his older brother before he moved his face close enough to where no one, except you- much to your embarrassment, “though I do suppose if you are that concerned, you may stand outside my quarters and listen for the confirmation that my marriage has been consummated.”

Aemond takes your hand and pulls you from the room after that, moving quickly as if attempting not to be noticed.

“Why are we not doing the bedding ceremony? Is it not tradition? Will we not get in trouble?” Your voice is slightly panicked at the idea of getting in trouble for not doing what you are supposed to do, causing him to stop outside the door of his chambers and look at you.

“I would not feel like a very good husband if there were a bunch of old men with greedy eyes seeing your bare body before I got to see it,” He looks serious, and he sounds it as well. Though his voice lowers slightly into a possessive tone when the next words come out, “I also would not like anyone to see it after I do.”

                                                        εїз

Large hands take the many pins out of your hair before gently starting to unknot and remove the many intricate braids the servant girls spent hours doing not long ago. It feels like a waste, makes you feel as if you are a spectacle for viewing and gawking at only.

Which you suppose you are- if you were being honest with yourself. You’d been lucky to inherit not only your mother’s beauty, but as well as the charm that all the women from your lord fathers house seem to have.

You wonder why he insisted that the handmaiden leave, from what your mother told you it was typical of them to prepare you for the upcoming moments.

Your hair is abandoned for the strings at the back of your dress once Aemond has removed all the braids. The air is cold on your back and your hands are shaking when his own move to touch your bare skin in a way that no one else has. One hand is on the nape rubbing in an almost affectionate way as the other moves to pull the extravagant gown from your body.

You didn’t think you could get anymore tense than you already were, until your wedding dress dropped from your body unceremoniously onto the cold ground.

Goosebumps cover your body as you’re fully exposed to the cold air, despite the fire going in the fireplace. His hands move to map your body, starting at your shoulders and slowly moving down to your hips.

His lips on your neck causes you to gasp in surprise, your belly warming at the feeling of not only his lips on you but his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the skin and biting back a grown when the reach your ass.

His mouth moves from your neck to your shoulders, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on your skin as he makes his way down your back. You close your eyes at the unfamiliar feeling stirring inside you, a surprised gasp escaping you when a dull bite lands on your hip.

You feel his smile against your skin as he does the same to your other hip before he stands up to make his way around your body.

He stands in front of you, fully clothed still despite having taken off all of your clothing, leaving you bare for him to feast upon with his eye.

Aemond’s hands are calloused and rough, you assume from years of sword training and dragon riding, as they caress your face. His bright eye locked on yours, watching for any reactions. Thumbs trace under your eyes, over your nose, and your lips.

“Have you ever been touched this way?” His voice is quiet as his hands move down your neck towards your collarbones.

“No, my Prince,” Your voice pitches up at the end when his mouth finds your neck again, his teeth piercing your skin again.

“Not even your own hands?” His tone is serious but the smirk you feel against your skin lets you know he’s teasing.

You feel your face heat up at his implication. “No. Never.”

Aemond lets out a pleased hum at your words, soft voice stirring something primal in him.

His mouth is on yours before you can think of something else to say. His lips are a little dry, something you didn’t notice when he kissed you earlier at the wedding. One hand grips your hip as the other tangles into your hair, tugging lightly causing you to gasp. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling, all of it is, though. You’re overwhelmed and throbbing at your core.

Can he hear your heartbeat as well as you can? It’s pounding in your ears along with a rush of heat that takes over your whole body.

His tongue coaxes yours to move against it, and you wonder if this is how it’s supposed to feel. If you’re supposed to feel this good. Are you even allowed to feel this good? Your handmaiden had told you on many occasions      that men only cared for their own pleasure, and you would be feeling a lot of pain. This didn’t feel like anything she described.

Aemond pulls his mouth from yours and looks at you with a hooded eye, pupil so blown you can’t see the blue of it. There’s a light flush on his cheeks as he looks at your swollen lips.

“You are quite beautiful, my lady.” It’s said so quietly, you wonder if it was supposed to be a secret. You’d like to know all his secrets, you think.

When you don’t respond, his mouth attaches itself to your neck. A sharp pain if him biting is followed by a light sucking as if to soothe it.

You aren’t sure where to put your hands, they’ve stayed at your side due to your shyness and uncertainty.

“Have you been with many women?” The question leaves your mouth before your mind even processes that you’ve asked it.

His mouth stops moving against your skin as your blood runs cold, shaking, and wide eyed when he pulls away to look at you.

Sharpe eye studies your features, like a lion about to eat a lamb. Or, perhaps, a dragon ready to burn a rose.

He steps back, taking your hand as he sighs and looks away from you in, shame?

“When I was thirteen, Aegon took me to a brothel. Told me it was time to get it wet,”

You grimace at his word choice, but when you see how he’s looking at you, you squeeze his hand.

“To put it lightly, my dear lady, it was not a very nice experience. I have been with very few women since,”

Shame fills you at his words, and before he can continue you speak quickly, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to push you into speaking about an event you-“

His hands are back on your face, holding your cheeks, “You are my wife.” It’s a statement, and his words come out slightly harsh, “You are entitled to every piece of me. I will tell you everything you wish to know about me,”

His kiss is full of fire this time, claiming your lips with such an intensity. His body is pressed full against yours; you can feel his toned chest through his shirt. The fabric is soft against your chest, and as if they have a mind of their own, your hands start grasping at them hem of it desperately.

“Aemond,” It’s the first time you’ve spoken his name that way, he likes the way it sounds. Desperate, needy. Maybe he just likes that it comes from you.

Aemond was nine the first time he saw you, still had both eyes back then. You’d been visiting the Keep with your father. The King wanted updates about something, Aemond didn’t know or care what it was. All he knew was that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

You had such grace and were so kind. Helaena didn’t have many friends at court due to her fascination with insects. But you held all the creepy crawlers she held out to you, spent the day reading to her so she didn’t have to pull herself away from the bugs.

You were younger than him, but he didn’t care. He liked the way your voice sounded as you read to Helaena, how you laughed when she would whisper out name ideas for her bugs and then look to you to see if the name suited the bug, how you smiled at him when you would catch him sitting just far enough to not be seen but to hear.

You left with your father, and then a year later he heard a servant that you’d been taken to Winterfell to see how you’d pair with Cregan Stark.

After he lost his eye, he told his mother it was a fair trade, and that he’d gotten Vhagar in return, so it didn’t matter. But after he heard Rhaenyra speak of you to Daemon, of her hopes to marry you to Jace, he back tracked.

When they returned to King’s Landing from Driftmark, he told his mother he felt like he deserved to choose his future bride- and that he would want you in return for his lost eye. Truly the rest was history; she brought the request to Viserys stating that it was the least he could be given after what was taken from him.

Viserys allowed it but stated that it would have to be on your father’s terms on when and how if he agreed. It was no surprise that he did agree, though. Lord Tyrell is a proud man and agreed after a few years of discussion and persuasion.

“My lady,” Your thighs involuntarily press together at the way he says it, like he owns you; and he does.

He smirks at the way your body reacts to him just speaking, “May I touch you?”

You moan and breathe out a whine, “If you’d like,”

He pulls away from you just enough to remove the shirt from his body, and then he grabs your hands and places them on his chest.

“I’d like it if you would touch me as well,” His request comes out confident, almost like a demand. Almost everything he says causes more and more heat to flood your body and your lower stomach.

Your shy hands trace over the whole expanse of his chest, rubbing, squeezing, light scratching. Your eyes stay on his face, drinking in every reaction. The way he opens his mouth and lets out a breathy gasp, how his eye closes, and head goes back when you scratch lightly over his pectoral muscles.

With a sudden surge of confidence, you slowly move closer and place a light kiss on his neck. A quiet groan leaves his mouth in response, and you take it as encouragement to continue. A hand moves to your head, lightly holding the back of your neck in place as you suck and bite as he did to you.

You don’t register that he’s been moving you backwards until your knees hit the bed, causing you to gasp and pull away.

Both his hands are back on your face as he slowly lowers you so you’re lying flat, you go to question him when he doesn’t join you, but to your confusion he moves to his knees between your legs.

“What are you-“ The question dies on your tongue when you feel his hands move up your thighs and close to your core.

This is definitely not normal. You’ve never heard of this being part of any bedding. In a panic your hands rush to his face as it gets closer to your core, “What are you doing?”

His eye finds yours and studies your face before smirking, “Just lay back and let me make you feel good, wife.”

Before you can respond you feel his tongue on you, no- in you.

“Oh, gods.”

It’s really unlike anything you’ve ever felt, it’s nearly overwhelming. All you can feel is him. His hands on your inner thighs holding you open for him, his fingers gripping so hard they’re surely leaving bruises, his tongue, gods his tongue.

A finger lightly traces at your entrance, teasingly. The finger makes its way inside you as he sucks on your clit.

“Aemond,” He pulls away at his name leaving your mouth, eye finding you with your head back and hands clutching the bedding at your sides so tightly your knuckles are turning white.

His free hand reaches for one of your own, intertwining your fingers, eye not leaving your face as he adds another inside you, scissoring the two of them lightly while his thumb rubs circles on your clit.

“Do you feel good?” His tone is slightly cocky, but when your eyes look at his face, you see he looks slightly shy.

Before you can respond, his fingers curl inside you and you’re eyes are squeezing shut as a sharp whine leaves your mouth. He hums thoughtfully at your reaction before doing the same thing again, again, again until.

“Oh, please, please, please,” Your nails are digging into his skin, so hard it may be drawing blood, and your thighs begin shaking by his head when his mouth finds your clit again. His fingers don’t falter inside you until your voice pitches up due to the overstimulation.

You finally open your eyes and watch as he sticks the two fingers that had just been inside you into his mouth before looking at you with a smirk as he leans his head back down to lick from the bottom of your cunt back up to your clit.

Wheezing, your thighs move to close themselves as both your hands reach for his head to push him away from you.

Aemond lets out a laugh as he pulls away from your cunt and crawls up your body. Big arms cage you in as he looks at you with something akin to adoration.

“You taste so good,” He says it in such an attractive manner, you’ve never though any words like that would sound so good coming from someone’s mouth. “Would you like to try it?”

You flush at his words, embarrassment filling you before you nod shyly. His smirk deepens as he presses his mouth to yours.

You moan at the feeling of his mouth back on your own, gasping when his hands places itself on your breasts and tweaks with your nipples, and Aemond takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth when you do.

The taste is slightly sweet, slightly bitter. Tangy, would be a better word, maybe like a Dornish wine or an orange. His cock is straining in his pants as he presses himself up against your cunt, the size takes you by surprise. It feels large, much bigger than his fingers and much too big to fit inside you, but between the feeling of his hands on your breasts, the heat coming off of his bare chest where your hands dig into his shoulders, and the taste of yourself on his mouth as his tongue maps out the inside of your mouth.

A surge of boldness fills you and you remove a hand from one of his shoulders and reach between the two of you, grabbing lightly and unsurely at his cock. The action causes him to pull away from you as a surprised moan leaves his mouth.

There’s a fire in his eye as he looks at you, watching you as you look up with him with uncertain yet shining eyes at everything you’re feeling for the very first time. At his hands no less.

A smirk crawls it’s way back on it’s face, “Do you want to make me feel good, little wife?”

“Yes,” Your answer causes him to let out a pleased hum, but to your confusion he pulls your hand away from his cock.

“Next time I’ll teach you how to please me the way I did you. I don’t want to overwhelm you this time,” His eye holds tenderness as he says the sweet words that light your body on fire.

“This is not how I expected tonight to go,” Your shy words cause a sympathetic smile to show on his features.

“Many husbands don’t care for their wife’s pleasure,” His hands are untying the laces on his pants as he moves up from the bed to strip himself of them. Pride fills him when your eyes widen at the site of his cock.

It’s long and thick, it sits hard and proud up against his stomach, almost hitting his naval. It’s as pale as the rest of him, slightly red at the tip. A bead of precum drips from the tip and down his shaft, your eyes follow it to his balls. There also big, no surprise. The hair so pale that if there is any, you can’t see it. They look heavy, almost uncomfortable.

“Does it hurt?” The question spills out of your mouth, and Aemond wants to laugh until he sees how serious you are.

“No, it’s just uncomfortable,” You’re wide eyes find his face again, another question that almost makes him laugh.

“Will it fit inside me?” You really don’t think it will, or if it does, it’ll be in your stomach. The though makes you nervous.

“We’ll go slow, if you’d like,” He crawls back on top of you, hands finding your thighs so he can fit his body in between them.

His cock is hot against the skin of your thigh, the tip lightly brushes your folds causing you to shiver. His hand grabs at the base of his cock, guiding the tip from your clit to your hole, then back up. Little gasps leave you every time it bumps against your clit or catches on your tight hole.

Aemond holds a lot of restraint, but he can only hold so much, “I’m going to put it in now,”

He looks to you for you to consent, but tenses when your hands shyly reach up at the leather straps of the patch covering his eye.

“Can you take this off?” Your eyes hold no fear, just slight uncertainty.

His face doesn’t change at all, “I’d rather not scare you-“

“I am bare before you, as your wife. You could be bare for me as my husband, as well.” You’re voice doesn’t shake at all, for the first time all evening, he notes.

With a sigh, he takes his hand from your thigh and closes his eye as he takes the patch off. He doesn’t want to see your inevitable reaction of fear or disgust before you turn over and have him take you from behind.

Aemond flinches when he feels your hand tracing his scar, from his forehead, over the sapphire in place of where his eye should be, down to where it ends.

He hears you take in a shaky breath before your mouth is diving up towards his, and for the first time all evening you’ve taken control of something. He enjoys it, the way your tongue forces its way into his mouth.

He kisses you back with the same amount of energy, sucking on your tongue and nipping at your lips until you pull away. His eye studies you, the lust filled look in your eyes and flush covering you with swollen, wet lips.

“You may take me now, Aemond,” The words are but a whisper, but he hears you clearly.

His cock is, now, painfully hard as he nods and tightens his grip so he can carefully guide himself inside you.

He hisses though his teeth at the feeling of your cunt, slick and warm and tight, enveloping his cock. You’re the tightest thing he’s ever felt.

An animalistic feeling nearly overcomes him. He feels a primal need to shove his cock all the way inside you, rip through your maidenhead and fuck you full of him. He want to see your blood on his cock as he thrust inside you, fill you full of him, fuck you so hard there’s no questioning if his seed took tonight.

The feeling is slightly different for you. The stretch is uncomfortable, and it stings slightly, it causes you to feel so full you may burst or overfill. He goes slow, like he promised, but you can feel his body shaking above you as he restrains himself from taking you like an animal.

When he reaches the barrier of your maidenhead, he halts, “I have to push a little harder, here,”

A flash of fear flashes through your eyes for a brief moment before you nod for him to continue.

With a shaky exhale, he pulls back slightly and then pushes forward sharply, a little too sharply. Because the next thing he knows you’ve got tears streaming down your face and his pelvis is flush with yours. It’s hot and so, so tight. It, you, feel so fucking good.

His mouth is hanging open slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to gain control over himself. When he looks down at you, he feels guilt coarse through him.

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry,” You take not that while his voice doesn’t sound sorry, his eye shows that he is. Hands reach for your cheeks so he can wipe the tears that have been falling from your eyes away.

You remove an arm from around his shoulder and move your hand to grip at a wrist that is by your face, “It’s okay-“

His voice is strained, “Oh, fuck, it’s not. I told you we would go slow,”

His eye holds guilt, but you can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks above you. No eye patch covering his features, his hair, though still pulled back, slightly messy, sharp facial features gleaming in the moonlight and the light from the fire.

He thinks you look unreal. Hair, still slightly curled, sits around you beautifully, eyes are gleaming with stars in the despite the tears from the pain still lingering, lips bruised and swollen from his own mouth.

“You can move now,” He looks unsure at your words and goes to speak his protests, but you interrupt. “Take me, husband.”

He obliges to your demand, pulling his hips back before pushing them forward. He goes slow at first, in and out at a steady rhythm, relishing in the moans and gasps and whines that leave your mouth, the chants of his name Aemond, Aemond, Aemond.

He dips his head to kiss your cheeks, down your jaw and latches onto your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as he starts thrusting deeper, harder. His pelvis grinds against your clit, and between that sensation, the pace of his thrusts when his cock hits the same spot his fingers found earlier and up to your cervix, his mouth on your neck, it doesn’t take long for your cunt to start clenching on his cock harder.

A deep groan leaves him at the way your cunt grips his cock, sucking him in and trying to keep him there forever. He would gladly stay inside you forever.

He pulls away from your neck to look at you, wanting to look at your face as you cum around his cock, as you feel his cum inside you.

Your eyes are rolled back so far he can only see the whites of them, bruises litter your collarbones and neck, marks of him all over you. Your nipples are hard and brush against his chest as your back arches while you lose yourself in the pleasure.

His balls tighten up more the longer he looks at you, and he moves his thumb to your clit, pushing you over the edge after one, two, three circles over it.

“Aemond!” Your voice sounds heavenly when you moan his name. His hips don’t falter their pace nor does his thumb stop rubbing until your cunt has loosened its vice grip on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm and through the aftershocks before he grabs one of your legs.

You’re still shaking from your orgasm when you feel him lift your leg up and over his arm and onto his shoulder before he’s leaning over you. Your eyes shoot open at the newer, deeper angle.

“I don’t think-“

Before the sentence can leave your mouth, his hips pick up a pace very unlike the one you had just grown accustomed to. Your eyes cross as your hands shot up to his shoulders, trying to push him away and stop the overstimulation.

His head is thrown back in deep pleasure, groans and low moans of your name leaving his mouth as he listens to the wet slap, slap, slap of his body meeting yours. His pace picks up and becomes less rhythmic as his orgasm hits him.

You cry out his name with tears running down your face as your cunt clenches down for a third time, squeezing him so tightly that all he can do is push all the way in and let his cum flood you. His hips lightly move back and forth, fucking himself and you through your orgasms as you feel his cum fill you so much it starts slipping out around his cock and down your ass.              

He stays inside you as your shake in the aftermath, feeling sweaty and sticky as he presses his cheek against your own, breathing you in and just feeling you for a while before he finally pull back just enough to look at you. Bodies still pressed together, cunt still plugged with his cock to hold his cum in, to make sure it takes. To make sure his son is filling you.

His eye is holding yours in a stare, and a soft smile takes over his face as you smile up at him tiredly. He feels something warm ignite in his chest as you look at him, the glow of the orgasm, the smile on your face, a sparkle in your eyes that looks like stars.

Aemond presses his mouth to yours before you can say anything. He wonders to himself if he can light your world up the way you’re already doing his.

eyy it's never too late to change the reader's death author-chan 😉

Through a Mother's Eyes: 2.7 (gojo x f!reader)

Second Trimester: 2.7

series summary:

For the first time in jujutsu history, two six-eyed wielders will walk the earth in the 21st century. Prophesized that Satoru Gojo will father the next user and the mother coming from your bloodline, you decided to take on the role to erase your family’s debts. The only catch? Your child’s first breath will be your last.

chapter summary:

After introducing you to two important people in his circle, you and Gojo set off on a small vacation with them to Kyoto. Though, he wasn't too keen on how you easily bonded with his long-time friend and colleague.

next part here. previous. series master list.

content/warnings: NSFW 18+ (mdni) : unprotected sex, minor degradation, lactation kink, mirror sex, gojo is a bit rougher than usual, jealousy/possessiveness. Reader started to lactate, jealous/insecure Gojo, slight angst.

words: 13.3k words

note: Happy New Year everyone! sorry for the late update, but I'm finally done with school, woo!! Can't wait to continue this story with all of you in 2023. And as always, any feedback is greatly appreciated!

'your father is a confident man, but there are moments where he’ll doubt himself. Whenever he becomes restless with his insecurities, help me put those negative thoughts to rest. He needs to be reminded constantly since he is human after all.'

19 weeks

The mall was bustling with hundreds of people — thousands of living entering and exiting this building on a daily. It’s been a while since you’ve been surrounded by regular human beings, not sorcerers. And you remembered why you chose to stay at home, most of the time.

Loud screams from children could be heard on the third floor, and gossiping co-workers whispered to each other at the takoyaki stand. The fluorescent lights from store signs were a little too bright. Earlier, the sound of babies weeping from the second floor triggered your first phenomenon of lactation. Thankfully, your kind escort gave you his tan blazer to cover you up.

Overwhelmed, you pinched the sleeve that belonged to said owner of the blazer. The earthy musk of his cologne that lingered in your now-oversized jacket perfumed your nostrils, calming you down.

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah.” In your purse, you fished out a pair of noise-canceling earplugs in an attempt to dilute the sounds. “I haven’t been around this many people in a while. I’m fine though. Let’s go?”

“Sure. If you need to step out, let me know.” He nodded down at you, while you grinned with appreciation.

“Thank you, Kento.”

5 days ago

It shouldn’t have bothered you that much — having you and Gojo dance around the name of your relationship after introducing you to his long-time colleague, Kento Nanami.

Officially exclusive, but as what?

Boyfriend and girlfriend?

Lovers?

Partners?!

“From what I see,” Nanami cleared his throat and adjusted the frames of his odd-looking spectacles. “You both are… close.”

“Yes.” “Yup!”

Both you and Gojo synced up. Your right arm hooked around his left one, and your ‘close’ friend pulled you closer.

“Closer than most friendships, Nanamin!” The blindfolded sorcerer bounced as he pointed to your belly. “I bet that regular besties don’t give each other babies!”

“Oh God…” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. With a heated face, you looked away as Gojo proudly boasted your success in conception. What impressed you was how expressionless the blond was. 

“I see. You don’t need to go into further detail, Gojo.” He then turned to bow at you. “It’s a pleasure, and I look forward to getting to know you.”

A part of you pitied at how he was able to brush Gojo so easily, meaning that the latter had done more than his fair trade of ‘entertaining’ or in other terms, annoying the younger gentleman. Their history had gone back all the way since high school, making you wonder if it’ll take many, many years to be desensitized by the one and only, Satoru Gojo.

“Now, now, Nanamin.” The menace let you go and instead, put an arm around his long-time companion. “No need to be too formal! You’ll intimidate her!”

“I’m not intimidated.” You defended with a scowl before glancing back at the (emphasis on the) gentle-man with a polite smile. “I believe that it’s important for us to be acquainted before we go on our trip to Kyoto. And since we’re mutually friends (you ushered with a question-like pitch) with Gojo, I’m excited to get to know you as well.”

As Nanami offered a polite smile, your friend scratched the back of his head. “Why are you two talking like you’re negotiating terms to hang out with me?”

“We are, darling.” “So we can discuss who will be more accountable for you during the trip.”

Along with the sarcastic agreement, the both of you smirked mutually. If this were a Sims video game, a green ‘+1 friendship’ would be floating between your heads. Gojo’s pout only extended even more. 

“Should I even let you meet Utahime?” He mumbled more to himself, dreading an upcoming moment that was supposed to be exciting.

“What was that?” Your conversation with Nanami quickly stopped.

“Nothing, sweetheart!” A large hand rubbed the top of your head, the owner keeping his mouth shut, knowing that you of all people could hear his words clearer than a summer sky. “Let’s go inside now! I’m starving.”

As he led you and his junior inside the restaurant and half-heartedly apologized to the hostess for loitering outside instead of coming in, Gojo internally dreaded the plausible day if you developed the ability to hear his inner thoughts.

——

Present

Being the gentleman that he is, Kento held all the shopping bags for you, while you proceeded to look for more clothes with his blazer on. The tan material was scratchy and dug into your skin, but you’d rather deal with that consequence instead of walking around with a shirt that’s been leaked on.

You wondered where Gojo and Utahime set themselves off to (or, where Gojo dragged her.) In all honesty, it irked you how he whisked himself away, while he promised to spend a whole day of shopping with you to look for maternity and baby clothes. Instead, he placed a colleague in his position that you pitied as well, since looking after a pregnant woman was definitely not a part of his job description. 

But at the same time, you didn’t mind it as well. Very quickly, you’ve become accustomed to Kento and in turn, he was as talkative to you. Coming from a humbling background, the sorcerer attained a perspective of regular humans that was different from others like him. You found that you could connect with him much easier than how you did with Gojo in the beginning.

You respected him for that.

“Ohh, this is adorable!” You squealed as you held up a violet-toned onesie with white hearts. The size was for a 3-month-old child, and you could just imagine how it’ll complement your baby girl, especially since she’ll have her daddy’s eyes. Before the grief feeling of FOMO could possess you, a baby pink ballerina outfit, with a sparkling tutu hovered in front of your face, and a squiggly blur of lines was printed on the front. 

The holder cleared his throat. “I don’t know what stylistic choices you prefer, but I believe that this would be cute for your daughter.”

You slowly read the print out loud. “Momma’s #1 ballerina.”

Then all of a sudden, the words blurred again. However, it wasn’t from your decreasing vision, but it was from a surge of emotions striking you in the chest. To be able and unable to visualize your daughter in this outfit enabled a fresh set of tears to form beneath your eyes. Quickly, your fingers wiped away the residue.

“Sorry-” You apologized promptly to the concerned blond, who immediately pulled out a handkerchief. “I think that’s a perfect choice, Kento. I’ll convince Gojo to dress her in that.”

“I don’t think that should be an issue.” His right lip curved up. “If anything, he’d be more than willing to match with her.”

Imagining your true love in a ballerina dress had you burst into a fit of laughter. Knowing him, Gojo might end up enjoying dressing up more than your shared child. Your giggles brought the attention of nearby shoppers, who all mutually snapped their heads toward your direction. With a heated face, you mouthed an apology before covering your lips. It was Nanami’s turn to be amused.

The two of you continued to explore the shop, with Nanami carrying a shopping basket, and with you throwing almost anything in there. A few minutes later, you were stuck choosing between two knitted shirts that had two different designs.

“Which one?” The one on your left hand had daisies, while your right hand held a shirt with pink tulips as the pattern. You wanted to choose both, but from how the basket was already piled up with clothes from one wall of the store, you forced your (lack of) discipline to pull through. Plus, you wanted to save space just in case Gojo gets here, so he could choose with you, but the choices of baby clothes to your avail had made you too excited.

“Mmm…” Nanami’s brown eyes flickered between both options. “I prefer the one with daisies - it’s more simple. And because the shirt itself is a cream color, it could be easily paired with any bottoms.”

“Huh.” Impressed by his analysis, your stare quickly met his. Amused, you grinned slyly.

“You’re oddly good at this, Kento.”

“At what, dressing up?”

“Yes. But it’s a surprise to see how stylish you are with kids' clothes. Makes me wonder if you have a family of your own.” You both chuckled at the banter. “Gojo would probably pair yellow trousers with a green and orange striped shirt.”

“I don’t have children, but I have nieces and nephews, so I do know a thing or two about appropriate attire. And I’d be more concerned if Gojo doesn’t dress your daughter with a mismatched outfit 70% of the time.” He huffed a dreadful sigh, as though he made it a personal mission in the future to advise his senior on how to make the new coming baby not look like she came from the end of a rainbow.

“I entrust them in your care, then.” You hushed quickly with a swift bow. A blow of stress whipped your mind as you thought about your beloved scrummaging through the closet, proudly picking out the most scattered-looking set of clothes. You shuddered.

While you and your new friend finished your rounds of going through the store, you both finally walked out with 3 bags, all carried by him. Three employees from the store oddly stared at you and Nanami, offering wide smiles. They bid a polite goodbye and you thanked them out of courtesy. 

However, disappointment shot through you as Gojo didn’t come back, but wishful thinking was soon replaced with practicality. If you were with that menace, you probably would still be in that store with little to no items — either because you argued on what to get, or you both would be stuck dreaming about a future that would never come.

In that case, you were glad that you came with Nanami instead.

You grunted as the ache in your calves strengthened. Taking notice of your sudden pain, the gentleman offered.

“We can take a break if you’d like.”

Smiling apologetically, you covered yourself even more with his blazer. “Please.”

Nanami visually scoured through the mall, looking for a bench or table to sit on. But his duty halted once he witnesses a familiar face. And he doesn’t need to say anything, as the figure already made his way over. 

“Sweethearrttttt, Nanaminnn~!” He almost skipped over, his black leather jacket swayed with every beat. Empty-handed, he held a palm out and waved in your direction. Squinting, that giant blob slowly morphed into a clearer figure of yours truly. His colorful, burgundy pants helped with your recognition.

“Gojo! Where did you go?”  You blurted, heart pounding in excitement. Walking passed Kento, you greeted your unofficial lover by going over to him, but then remembered a missing character. “Where’s Iori?”

“Ahh, Utahime?” The bridge of his rectangular glasses slid to the lower part of his nose as he didn’t look around. “She’s 30 seconds away… Why are you wearing Nanamin’s blazer?”

“You left her behind?!” Immediately glaring at his neglect, you looked at the direction his back faced. You weren’t entirely sure how, but another flame of a sky-blue blurry figure was suspected to be your new female friend. Memorizing the oversized, blue jean jacket she had on, you mentally confirmed that it was her.

“Bastard!” She gritted while stomping over. “You took off without me!”

Both of you blinked while Nanami stoically observed the altercation. Even some passersby whipped their heads to face the angry lady. A little girl tightly clutched onto the hem of her disapproving mother’s blue knitted sweater. Gojo shrugged as though he held no accountability.

“Lower your voice Utahime! You can’t get men with that behavior. Now you’re scaring children too.”

“I’m gonna kill you.” A brow twitched. In comfort, your hand brushed over her arm. Relaxing, her cool palm rested above your skin. “How do you deal with him on a daily basis?”

You chuckled. “I’ve known him the least out of everyone, so that’s probably why I’m not fully tired of him yet.”

‘Though, he’s getting there.’

Keyword: yet. And the older man in the group analyzed your phrase quicker than the speed of light.

“What do you mean yet?!” His voice reeked with sulk as he made his way behind you. Large arms protectively wrapped around above your belly, and his chin rested on the top of your head As affectionate as he typically is, there was an odd feeling with this interaction. He held you tighter, as though you were about to slip from him at any moment. 

And he didn’t want anyone else to catch you.

His fingers tugged on a flap of Nanami’s blazer and asked once more. “Why do you have this on?”

“Uh…” You froze while covering your breasts with the jacket, and darted between Iori and Kento’s stares. The sorceress gazed in pity like she already knew, while the latter looked away since he definitely knew. But it was your role to assess the father of your child.

Embarrassingly, you lifted the flap, only wide enough for Gojo to see from above. Peering down he mumbled.

“Oh…” He held you even closer. The vibration of his hum massaged your crown. “Does anything hurt? I’ll get you something to change into. We can go back to the hotel.”

“Gojo, I’m fine.” You reassured with a breathy voice. Squeezing a little too hard for your liking, your pointer finger hooked onto the sleeve of his leather jacket and pulled. Immediately, he let go. “He offered me a shirt, but I wanted to keep going when I saw the baby store.”

Silent for about 10 seconds, Gojo bit his lip and nodded while checking his blazer-less junior. “Okay. But you can give it back to him now. Wear mine instead.”

“What, why?” Confused, you stepped back closer to Utahime. While your focus was on him, you swore you could hear a snicker from her.

“Because.” The pale-haired sorcerer was in the process of removing his own jacket. “I’m pretty sure Nanami wants his back, right Nanamin?”

There was a leading tone with a suspicious splash of venom. Barely picking up on his behavior, you turned to face the other man. “Do you want it back?”

“Yes, he-”

“I don’t mind.” Not allowing his senior to finish the statement, Nanami shrugged casually. “It’s much warmer than Gojo’s jacket anyways.”

“I agree.” Utahime tutted in, linking her arm with yours. “You look so cozy and warm!”

“No one asked for your opinion, Utahime.” Her tall opposite snarked. “Have her wear your jacket instead!”

“It’s too small on me.” You defended, slightly amused at the transaction.

“Don’t speak for me, Gojo!”

In irritation, a vein popped out of her neck as she let you go and glared at Gojo, who in turn, unappealingly twitched his eye. However, she had her fill of satisfaction when you and Nanami were suddenly no longer in the circle, but a few feet away, walking through the crowded aisle together. 

“They seem to get along well.” A simple jab confirmed her prediction. Uncharacteristically quiet, Gojo marched off, trailing behind you and Nanami, who were talking like two old buddies. The sorceress could see steam ramping from his red ears.

She smiled. One point for her.

——

2 hours, 1 break, and 3 stores later, Satoru Gojo was fed up. He pulled every trick in his sleeve to gravitate you to him. And even though you reciprocate his hugs, kisses, and callings, the greater Kento Nanami naturally reeled your attention.

And he didn’t have to do anything!! All he needed to do was say your name, point his thumb at the topic of interest, and you’re floundering at whatever it is (rightfully so, since it’s usually baby clothes). 

The chill and suave Gojo was internally fuming, bringing out a feeling that he hated. Envy was one thing, but jealousy was definitely another. And the latter wasn’t always a kind emotion to him. 

And he despised how irrationally greedy and spiteful he felt to his younger colleague. It’s not like Nanami was trying to take personal advances toward you. If anything, Satoru should be glad how two very important people from his different worlds were able to connect easily. He is, truly. But seeing how domestic you both looked made his skin turn greener than jealousy.

A handful of people pointed and whispered to each other about the “young couple” and how sweet it was of the blond gentleman to offer his “pregnant partner” his blazer. Gojo gritted his teeth and reminisced the beginning of it all, minutes before spotting his friend and his beloved.

——

The snowy-haired fiend scowled at the three older employees who gossiped loudly while loitering outside of the store. They whispered something about a blond, very handsome man with a blue button-up and funky-looking tie, and a shorter, pregnant woman with a long, tan blazer that doesn’t coordinate with the rest of your outfit. Immediately, he knew the duo that spurred from the mouths of the trio. Though, he was curious about the blazer part.

“They look so infatuated!” One boasted. “They reminded me of when my dear and I were first expecting.”

“They’re such a beautiful couple. I could only imagine how their baby would turn out. Do you see the type of clothes they’re shopping for?”

“My bet is that their looks are from the mother and style from the father. Oh- they’re coming out now!” The third recalled as you and Kento walked out of the store together. The ladies wished you both to have a good day and you kind as ever bowed out of thanks. Standing from the side, Gojo waited for you to notice his wonderful presence and run into his open arms. 

But his smile faded when you never looked in his direction. Instead, you looked up at Nanami with discomfort — your hand gripping his sleeve. It was a simple gesture, but something within the strongest’s core twisted. And why are you wearing that blazer?

You looked beautiful as always, while Nanami was dashing with his tight button-up. If Gojo didn’t know you two, he would definitely pair you as some sort of power duo. Look at how easily you two molded together as though you were actually dating.

Sighing, he pulled on that enthusiastic grin and happily marched over, quickly making eye contact with his younger peer.

“Sweethearrttttt, Nanaminnn~!” He cooed out loud, emphasis on the loud. Your head immediately whipped in the direction of his voice. Filling in that barely dug-out hole in his ego, Gojo happily trotted to you, as his ears were opened to the concerned tone of the loitering employees.

“He’s her partner? No way, I thought it was the blond handsome one!”

“She’s lucky to be connected to both… The one with white hair is pretty.”

They gossiped amongst each other and with a smug, Gojo quickly turned to face them. Tilting his glasses slightly down, he winked in their direction, causing all three to turn bright red. Even though he appreciated one of their compliments, their original accusations of you and Kento didn’t sit right in his mind. Soaking in their final faces of embarrassment as a victory, you finally faced your lover… with his friend’s blazer on.

With his fingers tingling to throw the fabric off, he was unintentionally restrained by the excitement that escalated from you.

“Gojo! Where did you go?” You blurted, but your focus then shifted to the space behind him. “And where’s Utahime?”

His eyes almost popped from their sockets due to how he widened them. ‘Oh yeah…’

“Ahh, Utahime?” He forgot that he left her at her favorite clothing store. With her help, Gojo was done with his task anyways, and he’d rather go back to you than be bored to death by watching his older colleague pick a top that is between two different shades of blue. 

But speaking of the devil, raging residuals towards the sorcerer infiltrated his nose. Without needing to turn around, he kept his eyes fixated on your attire.

 “She’s 30 seconds away… Why are you wearing Nanamin’s blazer?”

——

“Oooh Kento, look!” The back of your hand lightly tapped his arm while the other pointed at a mannequin with a beautiful sage green dress with white outlines of lilies that perfectly compliment your skin tone. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“I agree with you.” He nodded and paused his movements. “Would you like to check it out?”

15 feet away, Gojo’s tight fists were dug deep in his leather pockets.

“Kento?” He practically hissed in surprise and confusion. Kento… Really? Not Nanami, but Kento. 

It’s one thing for Nanami to call you by your first name, as that was a preference you held towards everyone. However, Gojo knew his colleague for years, trailing back to their days as a student. It’s always been Nanamin or just Nanami. ‘Kento’ was reserved for somebody who was close. But with how you say his name, it seemed like you and Kento were acquainted for much longer.

“Nah I’m okay.” You pointed down at the bags Kento was carrying and leaned in a bit closer to whisper. “I think I’ve done enough shopping for a lifetime.”

Literally. It was a dark, light-hearted joke that you couldn’t compel to Gojo. So in an effort for him to not hear it, you stood inches next to Kento, and your arm accidentally grazed against his.

“Looks like the two are close, huh?” A sudden jest from Utahime made the all-knowing sorcerer jolt. “Already calling each other on a first-name basis. She doesn’t seem to call you by yours yet, huh?”

It was like she could read Gojo’s mind perfectly, sparking up a topic that irked him deeply. With a deep, justified sulk, he poked back, displeased by the negative answer that circled in his thoughts. “You’re having too much fun with this, Utahime.”

“Yeah, I am.” She admittedly confessed. “Seeing you like this feels so good. I think karma is finally making its rounds.”

Before Utahime could say something even further, she and her typically annoying colleague witnessed an unusual occurrence as out of nowhere, a group of teenage boys in front, made a ruckus. They ran opposite, heading towards your direction. She wasn’t sure if your headphones worked a little too well, but your focus remained on Nanami.

“Hey!” The sorceress reached a hand out to call your attention.

Meanwhile, Gojo was a step ahead. Before you could get run over by a stampede of troublemaking teens, the herd was met by an invisible wall, knocking them back. The two who led the race rubbed their faces in pain while the four others were considered blessed for being behind.

However, his dear junior took a greater leap. As your partner casted his technique, Nanami, like any normal person, wrapped his arm over your shoulder and pulled you to the side.

“Watch out, sweetheart.” The blond exclaimed a little loudly. The oomphs from the students followed soon after, dragging the attention of other passersby who witnessed the event in plain confusion. 

The force of his pull naturally had you squish against his side. You grunted from the sudden motion and yelped at the sight of the winded boys. Your vision couldn’t focus, but by their reactions, it was obvious that some supernatural force pulled them back.

“Are you alright?” Nanami then let go. You nodded at his sincerity, but your attention was on Gojo. You squinted at the sudden flame of bright blue light outlining his frame, but it had almost immediately faded away. Stunned, you wondered if that was a hallucination, or if this was another ‘perk’ of your special pregnancy.

“Gojo..?” You made your way to him but stopped halfway when you heard how haggard his breathing became. It was like he ran a marathon and finished first. Being able to get a clearer sense, you saw judgment in his tilted face. His eyes were dark, with no effect from his shaded frames. And all signs of typical cheeriness have defected from his expression. This wasn’t the Gojo you were familiar with at all. 

It’s one thing for Nanami to call you by your first name, but it’s another to call you sweetheart. That’s where he crosses the invisible line.

He wasn’t enraged like that one time when you almost died from the curse. But this current emotion was peaking near it. You gulped, pitiful towards the teenagers. Utahime already caught two by the ears, scolding the group as though she was their very own mother. And now, your own darling will soon show his wrath to them. At least, that’s what you thought. 

“Gojo.” A male voice intruded from behind, questioning his colleague. “Is there a problem?”

‘Ah, fuck.’ You noted mentally upon connecting the glare. 

Turns out, the taller man was shooting daggers at his long-time friend, who in turn, held his usual, calm, and stoic gaze. Man to man, these two were the pots of gold and you in the middle, were the rainbow.

Ignoring him, Gojo snapped out of his trance and looked down at you, who was looking back in concern. With softening eyes, he mumbled.

“Are you hurt?”

Quietly, you shook your head and reached for his hand in comfort. Not for yourself, but more so for him.

He grabbed you a little too quickly, and you noticed how he shook against your hold. An initial thought passed that your lover was cold, but alas, his hands were warmer than the sun that Icarus flew into. And his tight grip only signified a silent realization. 

Satoru Gojo’s blue eyes sparked with green.

But at who though? Nanami? …Why?

After scurrying those young gangsters with a final warning, Utahime returned to the group and aggressively whispered to her impulsive junior.

“Were you not thinking at all?! There were people watching us, Gojo! You were lucky that no one had a phone out to document a group of boys that mysteriously ran into nothing!”

“I wasn’t thinking.” His low voice confirmed, very much disliking the jealousy that bloomed in his chest. “Nanami would’ve gotten her out of the way and perfectly prevented any mishaps.”

Silence emerged from the group. Awkwardly, Utahime stood a foot back, her eyebrows raising at you and the blond. Meanwhile, the quarter-Danish cleared his throat.

“Again, Gojo. Is there a problem?” His question was stiff. “With me, perhaps?”

“It’s fine.” The other male grumbled and pushed his glasses to the higher bridge of his nose. He caught your unsure gaze. “I’m fine. I’m just tired. I’ll go back to the hotel and you can drop her off after.”

Utahime blinked, off guard by Gojo’s excuse of being tired. Normally, it’d be him to push them until they literally dropped from shopping. She bit her lip, worried that her teasing with you and Kento might’ve gone too far. To her defense, she didn’t know that it’d be possible.

“We can take a break somewhere. My legs are beat. Yours too, right?” She looked at you with hope, but all your attention was on your sour companion. Nervously, you started fidgeting as well.

“I think I’ll call it a day too. I think that’s enough walking for me.” Your white flag waved in front of his face. However, your face didn’t express fatigue, but rather, disappointment.

Gojo felt something twist and realization crashed into his mind. He unintentionally ruined your night out. “Sweetheart-”

“Huh? Really?” The female teacher couldn’t contain her slight despondency either. But she immediately picked up the tone with hope as she smiled at you with clasped hands. “I suppose we can end it here. We have more of Kyoto to explore tomorrow. We shouldn’t spend all of our energy on the first day.”

Kento nodded in agreement, clutching onto the shopping bags that were evidence of your (Gojo’s) credit card’s damage. With gratitude, you grinned at your new set of friends, for being really considerate. Your emotions with Gojo still remained a mystery, as you couldn’t tell if you should be mad or angry at him. Though, a confirmed feeling is definitely worrying.

Meanwhile, Gojo mentally sputtered curses all towards himself. His anger had diluted into guilt as your moment of freedom had ended early. He could read the jump in your cursed energy. Behind that smile, you were sad.

“We can still go around if you want, sweetheart. I can even push you around a wheelchair like an old lady.” He picked up his own tone and reached his arm out to hook you close to his side. “Would you like that?”

But you didn’t reciprocate his enthusiasm. Closing tonight’s chapter, you deadpanned quietly.

“I would like to go back to the hotel, Gojo. Please.”

Gojo whimpered at your unchanging want. Complying, he nodded and obediently stood behind you as you took initiative and pledged your goodbyes. Utahime gave you a big hug, while Nanami exchanged a few words with you.

“Thanks for going around with me, Kento.” You embarrassingly covered how he followed you to the stores of your interest, instead of taking turns and going to where he wanted to as well. “Promise that next time, I’ll go to whatever store you want to shop at next.”

“I look forward to it if that’s even possible.” He winked quickly, hinting at the only barrier that may block this event from happening. You giggled softly, appreciating the humor that he embedded, so it wouldn’t be awkward. After Gojo was reprimanded by Utahime, the two gentlemen faced each other.

Nanami’s smile dulled to a straight line as he held his hands out to hover your shopping bags to his senior. While Utahime temporarily whisked you away to talk about tomorrow’s plans, the younger of the 28-year-olds spoke lowly.

“I apologize if I pulled on some strings that weren’t meant to be touched. But just understand that in no way, shape, or form was I ever trying to take advantage of her.”

The way he spoke was courteous like he still held respect towards Gojo. Typical, mature, Kento Nanami, a man who stood his ground, but remained humble when someone would (mistakenly) walk over it. Satoru reflected the guilt back as his conscious subdued the fact that Kento was being nothing more than a friend towards you. A connection that you needed more than anything.

And because he couldn’t contain his negative feelings, he pulled you away from blossoming that aspired friendship.

Gojo reluctantly took the bags and barely made eye contact with Nanami. For the first time, the strongest felt like he was weaker than his counter. “I know. You didn’t do anything at all. I was acting stupid and let my personal feelings get to me. I apologize as well.”

“For what it’s worth, it’s good to see you expressing your true emotions.” Nanami didn’t skip a few beats. “Though, it could’ve been handled better.”

The older man pursed his lips and confided with a tight smile, relieved that the tensions he felt were not mutual, but self-depressant that these tensions existed in the first place. And they still do, for some odd reason. 

Then, you turned to face Kento, apology brimmed deeply in your eyes. Gojo’s stomach dropped at the sight. Clearly, you weren’t done with today. But there’s nothing that Gojo could do to reverse your decision.

“Goodnight everyone!” You masked with a cheery tone. Utahime and Nanami wished you and Gojo well before turning in the other direction. Meanwhile, your face sank the moment you saw their backs, and swiftly turned too before walking away.

Luckily, your fast steps were nothing in comparison to Gojo, as he was able to easily catch up, thanks to the gifts of his oddly long legs. The both of you teleported here, so technically, you had no direction to head to. However, he just decided to follow you along in your own journey.

“Woah, slow down, sweets!” He mimicked a silly running motion, his hair bouncing with every skip as he jogged to your right. “You’re going too fast!”

“As if.” You dryly notioned, trying to grab some of the shopping bags. But your partner shifted them away from your reach by stuffing all of the ones from his left, to his right.

“No, allow me.” He exclaimed with less humor. With his left hand now free, he let it sway on his side, hoping that you would grab it like you always did. Though, it was unfortunately and expectedly, left negligent.

You continued your own business, with a mixture of many thoughts circling your mind. It was obvious to confront Gojo about what just happened. And you weren’t exactly mad at him. But you were still left feeling confused. Kento just pulled you out of the way from getting hurt. If Gojo was any average male, sure, it’d make much more sense if he felt a bit threatened by your interaction with Nanami.

But it’s Satoru Gojo for god's sake. That man is the epitome of perfection who trusts his colleague and lover. Logically, it’s not calculating.

“Hey…” He said your name with the sweetest twinge of delicacy. It’s been weeks since you’ve heard him say it like that. You finally glanced up at him. Even though his shades covered his eyes, it doesn’t take a genius to read the rest of his expression and piece everything together. 

Logically, his behavior doesn’t make sense.

But emotionally…

“I know you’re upset at me.” He extended his open palm out. “But can you hold my hand… Please?”

You stared at it for a bit, contemplating. If you didn’t have your headphones out, you bet that you could feel his heartbeat pounding your brain in itself. 

Silently, you laced your fingers through his and continued to lead him to God-knows-where.

——

Ever since you and Gojo returned back to the hotel room, the latter placed all of your belongings down on the table and began to fill out any silence with filtered words.

“We didn’t have dinner yet. We can order room service if you’d like.” He rummaged through the items that you and Nanami purchased. He pulled up a grass-colored shirt. “Ohhh look at these! It’s so… green. Hm. Interesting choice for our baby girl isn’t it sweetheart?!”

A distraction. He was like a kid who would fiddle with anything merely interesting to avoid the biggest scolding of his lifetime.

“Gojo.”

You still had that damn blazer on. But Gojo wisely chose to not muster his energy on that. After all, Nanami was just being attentive, a trait that your dearest sorcerer would appreciate. But still. He couldn’t explain this stupid source of toxic masculinity — where someone that is his is being taken care of by someone that is not. Ugh. 

Well.

You’re his person.

But it’s not official.

You guys didn’t say anything about being exclusive.

That’s fine since everyone and their moms should know by now.

Right?

Especially with the way you act toward one another.

You know that you’re essentially taken.

…

Right?

Gojo cringed at how a few days ago, you couldn’t even introduce each other as boyfriend/girlfriend, lovers, romantic partners, or anything of the sort. He knows that in the deepest crevice of his heart was a home made for you. But was that something that needed to be said out loud?

“Y-Yes?” Hesitantly, he turned to face you. Your gaze peaked with worry, while his was with fear. You stepped closer and he had the sudden urge to drop down to his knees and bury his head against your swollen belly in sorrow. His hands hovered over your waist, but his skin lingered an inch over your clothes.

Does he touch you? Does he not?

Ugh, you’re still wearing that damn blazer.

While his head scrummaged for a heartfelt apology, a sincere compliment, or even anything to release the edge from his guilt, you rose on your tip-toes and planted a kiss on his jawline and some to his neck.

Satoru Gojo blinked once.

Twice.

That was a reaction that he expected the least, so his fingers hovered where you left a mark, and your sweet lips lingered on his buzzing skin. He’s got a better look at you now. Being a bit braver, he forced himself to peer into your eyes. And upon looking closely, his bare orbs scanned the smallest bits of cerulean blue that hovered below your pupil. It was barely there, as it’s not even completely crested around your natural color. But it pained him to see physical evidence of your child’s power slowly overtaking your body.

When did the signature blue of the Six Eyes start layering over his mom’s naturally brown eyes?

“What was that for?” He waited for an answer.

“Just because, and I love you.” His heart never felt so light. “And I’ll only love you… You’re aware of that, right?”

And that’s when his heart plummeted. With persistence laced in your tone and gaze, Gojo knew where you were going with this. You were a smart woman, one of the most intelligent beings that the sorcerer ever came across. And your sense of reading other’s emotions like a brochure was a human gift that Gojo envied. Speaking of envy…

“I know.” It was a breathless mutter, anxiety ramping up his system. You stepped forward and continued to corner him until he backed up and had his butt pressed against the table. The bags and your headphones on top rattled with his intercept. “I know you do, sweetheart- oh fuck.”

Mixed feelings stirred in him. Guilt, jealousy, and a sudden insatiableness subdued down to his trousers as you snatched his collar and pulled him down for a deep kiss.

He grunted and groaned about how you took the lead. His arms wrapped around your waist, while his hands fondled your ass. You gasped, and Gojo used that opportunity to speak.

“Don’t you want to talk about what happened first?” He said while sucking on the soft spot of your neck. You mewled at his touch.

“I already know, darling.” Your eyes rolled back at the sweet sensation. Internally, you burned, craving for more. “We can talk after - oh. Or during. I don’t know.”

But both of you already knew that Gojo would end up saying a few words as he fucks you. 

His growl vibrated against your skin, his nose inhaling a scent that smelled extremely familiar.

But it’s not yours.

“Fuck.” Without letting you go, he guided you to the bed and tugged on the tan blazer. His head spun from the fragrance. “You smell just like him too.”

“Like who?” Okay… Maybe you were kind of enjoying this.

“Like Kento.” For the first time ever, Gojo’s junior’s name left a vile taste on his tongue. It’s something that he’ll regret and fawn over later. But for now, he’ll have to fix this boiling feeling in his stomach. He pulled on your sleeve, signaling one thing. “Off. Take it off.”

Mentally apologizing to Kento, you obliged and shimmied off the blazer and threw it on the ground, or else, Gojo would end up tearing the fabric. Your wetness continues to seep through your underwear, aching for attention. Your stained top was exposed and Gojo gave you an uncanny look that from experience, you knew all too well.

A non-verbal option that either A) you strip your clothes off or B) Gojo would rip them apart.

But based on the current mood and with your silent approval, your partner opted for the latter.

You yelped when the fabric tore, hissing as your skin was now exposed to the open air. Your grey bra was soaked with your milk and Gojo stiffened like a lion that had just met his prey.

You may be hungry, but the man was beyond famished. 

All he wanted was to leach onto you and selfishly suck all of that euphoric milk. But your partner forced himself to retain all remnants of his diminishing self-control. You scooted to the middle and laid down, elbows propped on the mattress, pinning at the tent that formed from his jeans. 

“Are you uncomfortable?” At least there was some sincerity when he crawled on top of you.

You shook your head as his sharp nose bumped against yours. Your hand pulled down on a cup, exposing your breast. In awe, the both of you stared at the white pearls that rolled from your nipple.

“It just tingles.” Your breath shuddered as Gojo hovered a few inches away from your breast, mesmerized by the new sight. The air from his nostrils hit your skin at a rapid pace, making you yearn for more of him.

Willingly, his eyes connected with yours. This was probably the last time you’ll see Gojo for a bit, as you’ll be making love with a whole other being. Someone starving, desperate, feral.

“What’s the safe word?” His voice deepened.

“Infinity.”

And with that, his mouth latched onto your right nipple, while his hand fiddled with your covered breast.

“Oh fuck!” It was an odd sensation. Gojo loved playing with your tits, as it was a frequent ritual for him to do so the past few weeks. But with your breasts heavier and full, the tingling sensation that accumulated transformed into a pleasure that was unknown to both parties. Something that will be explored.

Gojo swirled his tongue and sucked, exchanging between both breasts. You squirmed under his hold, hips automatically thrusting in the open air. 

But don’t worry, your tried and true still has a free hand, waiting to be used. With his fingers, Gojo unbuttoned your pants. Uncharacteristically, he didn’t take his time with undressing you, nor teasing your entrance to rile you up. Instead, for his sake, his middle and ring digits slid in, curling inside your cunt.

You gasped in surprise, your fingers harshly tugging white strands of hair. Gojo let go of your nipple and kissed his way from your chest to your jawline, leaving slightly more aggressive love bites along the way. 

“Fuck sweetheart,” another hand stroked your head. Gojo leaned in close enough, so you could see the wildness that lay in his expression. “Who made you this wet?”

His fingers moved his languid strokes, massaging the spongy, sensitive walls that pooled you into a soaping mess. Missing the sensation, you groped your own breasts, whining at the rising peak of your early climax.

“Y-You did. Mmgh- wanna cum.” Your doe eyes made Gojo swallow. His pre-cum faintly made its appearance through his jeans. From your divine appearance alone, your dearest darling could combust untouched.

“Yeah? Wanna cum for me?” You could see it clearly now the moment he slightly backed up. His chin and lips shined with your milk, waking up an instinct inside you. Your response is to pull him in, licking all of the residues from his skin.

“I wan’ to cum multiple times from you tonight — please.” You ended the sentence with a high-pitched plea. “You’re the only one who could do it.”

And that’s how you ignited a permanent fuel to his ego. Smirking, Gojo left one final kiss to your lips before making his journey down under, leaving wet marks on your skin. As the taller being went lower, his body left the bed, promptly kneeling on the wooden floor. And when his made it to the bottom globe of your belly, he took his time, leaving gentle pecks at his little pit stop. Getting impatient, your hand pushed on his crown, causing him to pull away from his duty.

“What are you doing?” There was no usual, light-hearted tease that stroked his low tone. 

Gulping, your head lolled to the side in embarrassment. “I wanted you to hurry up.”

Large hands removed your pants and underwear, exposing your glistening cunt to all its glory. A finger delicately traced around your folds.

“What if I don’t want to?” It wasn’t a question, but rather a challenge. 

You huffed and scooted down, bringing yourself closer to him. However, Gojo stood (knelt) his ground by circulating his finger about half an inch inside.

“You’re gushing already.” He stated curiously, as though the bane of his existence wasn’t the cause.

“Don’t you want a taste?”  You tried to match his energy but were interrupted by a lap from his warm tongue.

“You don’t need to fucking ask.”

Eating pussy was a hidden talent of Satoru Gojo, and only a handful of his intimate lovers had the privilege to indulge in his gift. Though you, chosen one, were the only female that had him obsessed with his task. Drunk with your skin, the vengeful sorcerer grunted in pleasure every time he got to taste your sweetness.

You gasped and moaned when two fingers were inserted into your dripping sex, crossed and thrusting deeply in you, paying attention to your g-spot while sucking on your clit. Immediately, you were enflamed with sudden pleasure.

Satoru normally liked to take his time, even if it slightly agonized you a bit. He loved it when you begged with tears, desperate for his touch. But now, it shocked you with how sudden and direct he was.

The man was on a mission and he had to do it right and just. 

“G-Gojo…” You whimpered, squeezing your legs against his head, fingers pulling on his silky strands. “Darling slow down- ohhh… I’m about to cum al-alrea- haaah- Gojo… Gojo!”

But the jealous man only continued to curl his fingers faster, quickly sending you into overdrive. With his face buried in you, he had to rely on the pulse of your walls to sense how close you were. Everything about you is so fucking sweet. 

You didn’t expect that you were already cumming until your fingers froze and the air around you suddenly became warmer. Screaming out his name, you gushed into his mouth, begging for your lover to slow down. 

After a moment of calming down, Gojo asked if you wanted to continue.

Of course, you obliged.

——

“Get on your hands and knees, sweetheart,” Gojo instructed as he freed himself from the restraint of his jeans. Milky droplets coated his diamond-hard cock, ready to be plunged inside of you. With your legs still shaking from your first orgasm, you complied by rolling over. Your palms and knees met the soft mattress. And in front and slightly above the bed frame is a horizontal mirror. 

From your angle, you could see the blurry figure of your beloved removing his top layers, his rich skin reflecting against the glass pane. The mattress dipped as the second party climbed onto his knees.

He kept his promise, Gojo wasn’t going to be brutal, but he wasn’t going to be exactly easy either. 

A smack rang across the room and you yelped in surprise as his palms grasped your bare ass, pulling you closer. His red tip aligned with your entrance and Gojo hissed at the sensation.

“I’m going in.” With a foggy mind, your partner slipped inside, earning a guttural moan from you. Gojo grunted at how your pussy easily took him in, as though you were molded perfectly for him. “Fuck.”

Moving at a quick pace, the sorcerer was entranced with the way your ass ricocheted against his base. The tips of his fingers were red with how hard he grasped your waist. Meanwhile, you were death-gripping to the mattress, gasping at motions that tingled inside of you. Very rarely have you tried doggy style, as it was a mutual agreement that looking at each other with missionary was a preferred way of soaking in pleasure. However, the way that his cock perfectly kissed the spongiest part of your walls made you rethink everything. 

On the other hand, Gojo pounded into you like it was the only way to save your life. Images of earlier honed in his mind — the loving looks you and Nanami received from other people as you walked by, how domesticated you both seemed to be as you excitedly infiltrated almost every baby store, showing off your picks to the blond. It gave him uneasy flashbacks of how it took a very long time to earn your trust and friendship, but his dearest junior was able to befriend you in an instant. 

While pounding at a rhythmic pace, Gojo bent down, holding you close with his arms around your waist and with a hand groping your leaking breast. His teeth sunk into the flesh of your shoulder, too light for it to hurt, but deep enough to leave a mark. The perfect formula to physically claim what’s his.

“G-Gojo…” You stammered, eyes rolling back. You were raptured by his roughness, eager to be his little plaything for once. 

Satoru Gojo has let loose, and you loved every single second of it.

“Can you still handle me, baby?” His pink lips brushed against the conch of your ear. “Can you still handle my cock fucking you like this, huh? Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart. You’re doing. So. Good. For. Me.”

“Yes, yesyesyes,” You choked every time he bottomed inside you. “I can take you- oh my God. Let me fucking take you, darling.”

“Shit.” Gojo heaved heavily, feeling his own orgasm coming. Thinking quickly, his reflection of himself from the waist up gave him an idea. “Come here, sweetheart. On your knees.”

Pulling you up to your knees only, your lover instructed you to place your hands on the bed frame, giving you a clear image of the mirror. Upon seeing the reflection of yourself and Gojo, who was smirking the entire time, you coincided with wide eyes.

“I- I don’t think we should do it like this.” Though, seeing Gojo’s rose-dusted face amplified your pleasure. With one arm wedged between your breasts and belly for security, his free hand was all wild. He rubbed, stroked, and loved you all over from your collarbones, tits, belly, and thighs and finally found its home in your pussy, rubbing your clit in languid, circular movements.

“Why not?” His tongue dragged against the side of your neck, his thrusts were still deep and impactful. “You need to see who’s doing this to you, who’s responsible for turning you into a slutty little mess that you are.”

A part of him was apprehensive about throwing in a degrading term. However, you moaned and leaned back against his chest like you were made for that role. With your fingers pinched your own nipples, beads of milk dripping down your soft flesh.

You were on supernatural ecstasy as your heightened senses were working overtime. Your moans turned into pitched screams, begging for your climax to be tipped over. Naturally, your tongue stuck out as you faced your beautiful partner.

His face scrunched in pleasure and his white strands barely covered his eyes, which were still dark in jealousy. Idly, he kissed you roughly and your tongues danced like a duo doing a wild tango. Your orgasm was approaching quickly, and Gojo ensured that you’d be reaching your second peak by rubbing your clit faster.

“Gojo, please…” You whimpered, eyes red and watery. Gojo wants to give it all to you.

“Already calling each other on a first-name basis.” Utahime referred to your name call to Kento, impressed. “She doesn’t seem to call you by yours yet, huh?”

There was a reason why that Gojo had you stick with a formal address for a long time. He didn’t mind when others refer to him as Satoru because the modern sorcerer didn’t see the point of traditional customs. But in a time where he was supposed to keep you at arm's length, he pulled any trick from his sleeve to maintain that distance.

And now, that distance was long gone, but he quickly realized how there are still some barriers that were still standing. Now, he wanted to be close to you as much as possible.

“Satoru.” He strained as he began to see stars.

“Huh?”

“We’re together, right? Haah-“ His mouth agape as his approaching release was inevitable. “Call me Satoru.”

Your heart fluttered, matching the number of times you blinked. You’ve been waiting for a day like this to happen. Many weeks ago, you tried it once, just to be ignored. Out of respect for your partner, you kept that subject sealed up, even though it was unusual for you to still refer to him by his last name, given the immense bond you shared.

“Satoru.” It was delicate.

“Again.” He was spilling, and you were tensing around him.

“Satoru-“ Panting, you moaned his name, again and again. “Satoru! Ohhh- I’m about to cum. Shit- shitshitshit-“

With a final cry, you spasmed against his hold and Satoru cupped your cheeks together with his thumb and another set of fingers, forcing you to look at the mirror as you fell apart. The fire that erupted from the pit of your core blazed and the mix of you and your lover’s juices dripped on the bed.

He’s lost it. Gojo went faster — unapparent from your own orgasm. He spurred curse words out loud while you were riding your own high. And not too long after, he groaned your name that almost rattled the entire room, and unleashed hot ropes of his seed inside of you. 

“Ohh fuckk- baby…” Out of breath, he kissed your back and the mark he left on your skin. “You did so well for me. My beautiful girl.”

You slumped against his hold, foggy eyes staring at the mirror. You looked and felt like an absolute mess. But besides a quenched throat, it seemed like the night was far from over.

When Satoru gravitated a water bottle to your hand, you took a long swig, letting droplets trickle down your bare body, cooling your system. Your partner followed suit and the both of you momentarily remained in the same position, catching your breaths.

“You good, sweetheart?” He asked with his drenched cock from your heat — his swollen lips nibbled on the sides of your neck, shooting tiny sparks down your spine. Your thighs quivered from the intensity and the room had gotten foggier. You wiggled your ass back, enveloping friction that you missed so much.

The fire was still there.

“I wanna keep going.” Your desperate whisper reached the inside of his brain as it traveled down inside his body, pumping the blood that circulated within his member. “Just like this.”

Fuck… He felt like he wasn’t done either, but he had to prioritize his limits. 

Taken aback, Gojo grunted and watched you slowly engulf him, purposely squeezing to enable his desires. From the mirror, he sees all of you. Halfway from being fucked out, sweaty, and sensual. You glowed underneath the light, and the shadows traced the curves that he embellished so much. His hands rub your glistening skin, before making their way to your miracle globe.

For a split second, your boy wonder soaked it all in. You were in his grasp. He had you like this. 

You love him. And he…

His right middle and ring fingers glided their way to your lips, hovering barely a centimeter over. Like instinct, you put them in your mouth, tongue swirling at the saltiness, gazing intensely into the reflection.

His cock twitched inside of you and as a temporary remedy, he began moving in slow, short movements to warm up.

“Just like this, huh?” He murmured, sucking another soft spot on your neck while feeling all hot and bothered with how warm his fingers were in your mouth. “Such a little whore, aren’t you?”

“Only yours.” You replied by moving your head back and forth, as though you were sucking cock, whining at how agonizingly slow his pace was. There was an edge of roughness that never left his tone. And you absolutely devoured this side of him. 

“Fuck…” He grunted, feeling the restraints of his self-control loosening. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

You did with half-lidded eyes, your smaller hands grasped his fingers.

“Hmm?”

“What’s the rule?” Satoru needed to make sure that your consent abided with full consciousness.

“We’ll say the safe word if either one of us wants to stop.” Your other hand glided his to your tit, having his fingers pinch at your leaking nipple.

“The colors?”

“Red ngh- a-and green.”

“And the safe word?” His eyes became darker.

Your hands now clutched onto the top of the bed frame and the tip of your nose brushed against his.

“Infinity.”

“Shit… Come here.”

The kiss was a sloppy exchange, with teeth clashing and desperation reeking. You taste all of Gojo, from the saltiness that lingered on his tongue, to the emotions of jealousy and lust. It was a divine combo.

He broke the kiss as he began to move faster, clapping his balls with your core. The fiery sensation returned as you arched your back, losing composure as your record-breaking third orgasm settled in. It's bizarre how pregnancy could make you feel fatigued AND energized all at once. 

“Haaaah- Satoru please, please, please keep going. Mmm fuck!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your partner pumped you into oblivion. It’s starting to feel like a lot. “I- I can’t…”

“What color sweetheart?” His pace was unsettling.

“Green!”

“Are you two even official? Because from what I saw, it looks like you’re in this weird situationship rather than an actual relationship.” Utahime’s question from earlier infiltrated Satoru’s mind as he drilled into you in an unforgiving motion. 

“Situationship? What does that mean?” It was a weird term that the young millennial doesn’t even know. It was even weirder than his older colleague knew what it was.

“Well by definition, she’s technically not yours.”

He was close — oh so close. Vivid flashbacks of doting stares from strangers that were geared towards Nanami instead of him branded his brain. You gasped at every deep thrust he made, causing the whole bed to rock with his rhythm. An internal prayer was sent out, in hopes that there was nobody occupying the hotel room next door. And if there was, you prayed for their forgiveness.

“Aah, Satoru!” Your thighs shook, feeling something pulse inside of you. Your partner’s warm breath huffed against the back of your neck, his little whimpers traveling through your ear.

“Take it.” He groaned out loud with each smack. “Fucking take it, sweetheart. ‘M close- take it. Take it. Take it. Take it. Take me.”

His voice was increasing in pitch and your thighs were sticky with the overflow of your accumulated wetness. He continued to chant his own mantra, with the phrase being ‘take me,’ as though he needed you to engulf him, to be your breath to live. It wasn’t until he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you tight, that his warmth suddenly filled you up.

Crying out your name, Satoru bit onto your shoulder, leaving another set of marks on your skin.

Marks on what is his.

But what surprised you, even more, was how the pace wasn’t slowing down. Gojo, still visibly shaking and obviously, very overstimulated continues to thrust inside you, his slick cock now a little too slippery with his seed.

“Darling, we can stop for now-” You were hushed by how he nibbled your ear lobe. You sighed at the delicate feeling.

“Can’t stop-“ Satoru gritted his teeth, possessed. “Not until you- you cum again from me.”

“Satoru-“

“-Green. Infinity. I’m good.” His wet, snow-like lashes fluttered, displaying his purpose. “Take all of me, sweetheart. Take me, please.”

Greedy. He was so greedy with his plea. Gojo knew about it. It was pathetic that his jealousy about your rising friendship was the key to him signaling that he wanted to make your budding relationship known. Official. To be officially yours, and you, his. 

“Wha-?” Your back pressed against his, hands shaking from the overwhelming sensations that engulfed you. It was too loud, but not loud enough. His skin was electrifying, yet oddly bearable. His touch, his words, everything about the one and only Satoru Gojo marked your entire spirituality.

He was the fiery light itself, but you could only find yourself coming closer than repelling away from it, even if it burns within each closing step.

“I want you to be mine.” His tongue lapped the side of your throat, while his own bubbled up. “I-It’s stupid. But I pushed you away for so long because I couldn’t bear the thought of caring for someone who will leave me, again. Or that- fuck… That I put you in this situation. But when I saw you with Nanami and how fucking angry I got even when we’re not exclusive, I realized that I can’t- can’t hold myself back anymore, sweetheart.”

You whimpered, heart swelling at the thought. Satoru’s crystal eyes cascaded next to your face, glossy. You were unsure if that and his blushed face were the results of his exertion or confession. Regardless, you were pleased with how he’s opening up.

“I knew that I wanted you for so long, but tonight I realized how much I needed you.” Face now buried in the crook of your neck, your partner groaned, babbling short phrases as his brain short-circuited. Perhaps you were hallucinating tiny flecks of purple lightning trembling around (later you found out that you weren’t.)

“Darling, darling! Oh my god- I’m gonna cum, please, I’m gonna cum.” The intensity in your core was at the pivotal part before climax, thanks to your one and only pounding himself in you like a desperate robot. “I need you just as much too. I- nghh! I can’t live the rest of my days without- without you.”

“Mine.” Satoru felt himself reaching the edge once more, his body rumbling immensely. “You’re mine. Take every single fucking part of me, sweetheart. Be. Fucking. Mine. Damn. Say it.”

“I’m yours. You own me, Satoru.” You wheezed, stomach flipping as you finally tipped over to euphoria. “Fuckfuckfuck- Fuck!”

With the way your back arched and how your cunt spasmed and came, seeing stars was an understatement. More than electrifying, beyond world-shattering. You came and you came, the intensity filling out every single part of your body. You didn’t know that this type of experience even existed. If it wasn’t for Satoru holding you in place, you would’ve gone completely limp. With your skin pressing against his chest, you allowed your possessed partner to continue fucking you to extend your high, while he reaches his final one for the night. 

“Watch out, sweetheart.” A flashback to Nanami’s warning echoed Gojo’s conscience. It still left a sour feeling in his chest for hearing that come out of his junior’s lips, especially since it was geared toward you.

Satoru paid close attention to the mirror in front, focusing on your fucked out presence, crossed-eyed and all. You looked so sweet, which was partly why he nicknamed you such. His sweet pregnant partner, all vulnerable and splayed out for him.

He was already spilling inside of you as he rutted in faster, cock twitching for another painful release. Satoru never gave himself a break since he first came and his body begged for a break, but for some reason, he couldn’t falter. Of all the times, he had to fuck you now as though his life and soul depended on it.

Though, a minor setback was how his brain was beyond fried. His six eyes jumped at every single wall, forcing every sensation to be hyper-focused. Thankfully, they’re good sensations. But regardless, it’s a bit… overwhelming.

“Sweetheart…” He mumbled as he mewled in your ear. His fingers played with your clit, causing you to twitch. The both of you were possessed.“Sweetheart…  My sweetheart. You’re my sweetheart only. I’m about- mmm yesyesyesyes- bouta cu-c- haah-  I love- Ohhh fuck, shit. Ngh- Shit!”

Satoru fumbled curses out loud with a guttural cry — his aching dick shooting spurts of his love inside of you. Tears that dripped from his eyes landed on your skin and he froze. Thoughtlessly, the man with white hair gently kissed all of the bruised marks that were loitered because of his lips. 

After catching his breath, Satoru then pulled out. Rings of white coated his softening, raw cock. The whisks of air caused him to quiver as all of his senses had been spiked higher than the gods themselves. You found your personal pace by drinking the water that was on the nightstand while having an internal battle of frayed nerves of your own.

If you weren’t so exhausted, you’d be disgusted to be lying down on a bed that was drenched with you and Gojo’s mess. You almost gagged at how you’ll wake up grossed out and embarrassed that somebody has to eventually clean all of this up. Slightly coming back to his senses, Satoru petted the side of your face, planting warm kisses from your lips, all the way to the crease between your eyebrows.

“Are you okay? Did I go too hard?” A hand latched onto your bare bump, going around in soothing circles. When you didn’t respond, Gojo got fidgety. “Hey… Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“Hmm?” One eye opened to look at him. The tension of worry between his brows had ceased, revealing a youth so prevailing. You inched closer, so you could examine all of his features, from the wisps of white stubble that weirdly shadowed his face, to his perfectly pointed nose that was still red from your intense session.

“Is the baby alright?” His concern tied in with guilt. “I knew you could handle me being rough, but what if I pushed you too hard? Maybe we need to get you checked out just in case. Shoko should still be awake. If not, I’ll just wake her up-“

You shut his lips by pressing a finger on them. “We definitely do not need to wake her. If the baby is in distress, I’d normally feel abnormal symptoms. But I’m okay right now. Promise.”

Feeling reassured, Satoru caught your hand and kissed your knuckles, mixed feelings still stirred in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m sorry.” Crystal eyes scanned yours, focusing on the small, matching patches of blue that were slowly taking over your irises. “I never meant to ruin your night out with Nanami and Utahime. You were having such a good time and fuck, I really blew it didn’t I?”

His voice submitted to the guilt that succumbed to him. When you locked your fingers with him, you smiled softly to address the issue in a calm manner.

“I was getting tired anyways. But I appreciate your apology.” You snuggled closer and chuckled. “I was gonna mention how I feel towards you and how you have nothing to worry about, but you should know by now.”

“I should.”

“You should.”

Satoru looked at the painted beige walls, seeing an image of you and Nanami together. While the oldest stood with confidence and loud charm, his junior had a poise of maturity, a different reflection of well-embellished masculinity.

While Gojo was shaped by his society, Nanami had the gift of sculpting himself into the man that he truly was. And you seemed to be naturally attracted to one who knew how to keep his composure in that way — one who was smart, witty, toned down, human.

“What’s up, darling?” You took notice of his silence.

“Do you… like mature men?” In the pit of his soul, Satoru still felt the jealousy that roused in his heart. The immature, playful, goofy, Satoru Gojo.

If he could be more like Nanami, more father/husband material, perhaps he could be deemed reliable in that field.

“I like you.” Your head rested on the side of his arm, feeling a bit guilty yourself for unintentionally making Gojo question his worth as a human being. “You’re mature and reliable too. Don’t compare your character with someone else, because at the end of the day, you’re the man I want to go home to. You’re the father our daughter is worth looking up to, Gojo.”

Suddenly your forehead was met with a light flick from his finger. You jumped.

“Satoru.” He instructed and his breathing slowed, feeling a bit more at ease. Those are words he’ll still have the digest, but for now, he’ll willingly take them as is.

“Satoru?” You reflected slowly, noticing the upward curve of his lip. With more assurance, you repeated. “Satoru.”

He kissed the part of your forehead where he flicked it and mumbled. “Yeah… like that.”

Cunningly, you changed the topic and reinstated it. “So it’s not going to be a name that I’ll only call you during sex?”

White brows curiously knit together. “I hope not. I’ve been waiting for you to call me by my given name.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, not believing the sentence that spurred from his mouth. “Huh? Really? No, you haven’t.”

“Yes, I did?” He questioned your dismissal. “I have for a while.”

Memories from weeks ago spurred of a time when your family first visited the Gojo clan’s estate. Your brother, sister, mother, and father all called your truly beloved his first name with such causality, as though he was already part of the family. Meanwhile, it seemed like you weren’t welcome to the ‘Satoru’ club.

“Hey, Satoru?” 

The sorcerer continued walking, as though he couldn’t hear your voice — even when he was only 10 feet away from you.

You cleared your throat and spoke louder. “Satoru.”

It was more firm, direct. Yet, there was no response from his end. You sighed, disappointed that maybe he’s too occupied in that mind of his to just even try this experiment. Though, no fair trial is complete without the controlled variable.

“Gojo.” You brought it down to a softer volume, barely loud enough to reach his ears. You didn’t expect for it to work, since you could barely hear yourself. However, third time’s probably the charm, since he stopped his tracks once more.

“What is it?”

“OW!” Gojo practically honked and scooted back as you pinched his nose with sudden irritation. “What the fuck was that for?!”

“You’ve been waiting, my ass!” Covering up with a blanket, you sat yourself up with a displeased expression. “I tried calling you Satoru weeks ago, because of my family and you never responded!”

Satoru paused, rummaging through the memories that surfaced back and forth until he stopped at one 6 weeks ago, the day after your *almost* death by the giant curse. He remembered that moment exactly. Sitting up as well, he opened his mouth to explain, but was interrupted by your rant.

“And don’t tell me that you don’t know what I’m talking about! Because the moment I referred you back to your last name, which I practically whispered, you replied quickly. So it only means that you didn’t want me to call you Satoru at all!”

You huffed and crossed your arms, waiting for your poor partner’s reply, who was both terrified and still slightly hazed. 

“Sweetheart, I can explain-“

“-then explain it-“

“-I will if you let me talk!” A hand flew over your mouth to keep it shut and your forehead bumped with his. A finger floated over his pursed lips, signaling you for once to be quiet, an uncommon change of pace between your exchange. “Got that?”

Obediently you nodded and Satoru slowly removed his palm from your mouth, offering a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips as a flag of truce. He scooted closer to you but looked down on his blanketed lap, thumbs twiddling. 

“I don’t mind how or what people refer to me as. You know that most traditional customs aren’t for me, so if a stranger wants to call me Satoru, then so be it. There are more important matters in life than for me to press on titles. Actually, with me being who I am, I liked it when people referred to me casually, because it broke the ‘formal’ barrier between me and them. And I hate barriers.”

You looked at his lips the whole time, focusing on how he enunciated every word, carefully picking the phrases to say. You took note of his character and his last sentence, analyzing the irony behind it.

“And I didn’t think any much of it until you. Because-” Biting his lower lip, Satoru placed his hand over yours, squeezing firmly. Curiously, your head tilted to the side. “Because I… Dammit.”

He deflected by hiding his eyes behind the wisps of his hair like he just committed the world’s greatest sin.

“Because what, Satoru?”

The man shook his head, not wanting to confess his truth. However, he had already made it this far and at some point, he had to tell you.

“Because I never wanted to be close to you in the first place.”

“…”

Your brain paused, reflecting on his words. It was kind of evident, to begin with, but to have it be confirmed was a whole other element. 

“Oh.” You exhaled as though your stomach was kicked. Satoru reacted with his eyes widening with guilt and bringing your hand to his forehead.

“I’ve lost a lot of people in the past, sweetheart. People that I cared about, because of me being Satoru Gojo. And even though I could handle a lot since I’m the strongest, I couldn’t… I couldn’t risk myself getting attached to someone, especially if I knew that I turned their life into a ticking time bomb.” His hold on you stiffened. “Even before you signed the contract, I convinced myself, promised, that I’ll only be there for you when needed. Other than that, I’d be standing at a distance, focusing on work and other things to keep you off my mind. The only thing I should care about is the baby and not you. Ha… Pretty inhumane of me, isn’t it?”

The first 10 weeks of him being away, how you barely saw him around. It was always the “Oh good morning, have a good day!” type of exchange on an occasional basis before it summoned to something much more, primarily from Gojo’s internal guilt for making you feel abandoned on this lonely journey, which was a sympathetic feeling.

“And for some reason, you continued to beat down every wall I tried to put up. Every night, I always ask myself how, because I slowly started to think about you rather than the priority at hand.” Chuckling, Satoru barely mustered up the courage to look at you directly. “I’m the master of creating barriers, but I’ve found someone who’s finally met my match. My thoughts and heart overflowed with you, sweetheart, and I can’t figure out how. And now… I don’t think I want to keep them up anymore.”

The gates to his soul opened up and it was like stepping into a haven of warm truth. He sounded thankful that someone broke him out of his self-casted spell. But, the wave of a tragic, yet expected ending between you two still had yet to crash, making you wonder how much longer if (or until) he’ll crack.

“Really?” Ecstatic and unsure. Of course, you were happy with Gojo’s realization and acceptance of his true feelings. But the inevitable still repelled your feelings of relief. Your eyes made sure that they could only express the prior emotion.

Why is it only now you began to fully realize the consequences?

He pressed his lips softly against yours. “That’s why I never responded when you called me by my first name on that day. You were breaking down my walls quicker than I realized before I could finally accept how I felt toward you. Formalities were the only barrier I could fully control and I used anything to keep you at arm’s length as much as possible because I was scared. And to be honest, I still kinda am.”

Your thumb rubbed the meat of his backhand in soft circles, offering a silent gesture of comfort. Of course, he’s scared. Your bond was a fine line that had treaded him into the darkness that he avoided for so long, but it was strong enough for him to walk on.

“But I want to do this, even if time is limited. My only regret is that I didn’t accept you sooner, sweetheart.” Another kiss on the lips. Another crack in your heart. 

Will your path of love be strong enough to lead him to the light at the end of the tunnel, or will your death pull him down to the dark, murky waters?

“I… I want to be with you.” It was obvious that he was struggling with this too. Being a man born with confidence, Satoru was too careful with choosing his words. “I’ll devote myself to you, sweetheart.”

The thread he walks on would only get thinner. That’s a promise that would just bind him in chains. But will it be selfish of you to embrace his commitment with open arms? Or would you be an unruly being who would keep him chained to the tip of the coldest mountain?

You love him. You fucking love him.

It’s different if you offer him the rest of your life, but it’s unfair that he’ll do the same with his for you. 

For you will forever be his, but he shouldn’t forever be yours.

Now, how the hell do you say that? He already sounded too hopeful, relying on an improbable future. 

You stayed silent, allowing the open air to speak for you. Reading you like an elementary book, Satoru’s hopeful trance narrowed into a faded, darker gaze. 

Your face wallowed in pity, wondering if you should’ve kept your love a secret, kept the gates shut, kept the tension of two souls dancing around, but never touch.

Alas, glassy, crystal blue orbs shined with a sheer gloss of unfallen tears. Red embedded the whites of his eyes. Your name was pronounced like newly woven silk.

“At least, let me do this temporarily. I want to know what it feels like to be in a committed relationship, to shout to the world that you’re mine. I want to be openly loved, to lo-“

“Okay.” You didn’t let him finish his sentence, shutting him up with a long, slow kiss. Your fingers carded through the cradle of his head before you naturally cupped the side of his face. Satoru melted in your touch. “But promise me one thing, Satoru.”

“What is it?” It was a breathless whisper.

Stabbing yourself with a dagger, you only hoped that your beloved Satoru was able to understand the connotation beneath all of this.

You wanted your love to reflect back, but it’d be too damaging.

You saw how his father’s devotion to his mother led to a strained relationship between father and son.

Satoru knew himself better than anybody, and his early distance from you had a purpose.

To protect your daughter, he shouldn’t devote all of himself to you.

To protect your lover, he shouldn’t give you his soul.

You love him. And you will love him until your dying breath.

But Satoru deserves freedom, to grow without being held back. That’s the most and least you could do.

Your lips quivered, unsure of how to start. Both palms rested against his porcelain, chiseled face. You eyed his beauty as much as possible, soaking in the details of his features while you still had the opportunity to. Melancholically, yet truthfully, you answered.

“Don’t love me like how I love you.”

Satoru remained silent.

------

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masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. sure you cant blame a girl for trying but Toji shows you that he can make it fit .

─── ☆ notes. oh no,, Taiyo is back at it again with a new format. i'm writing shorter fics to make room for more ideas for the 9k+ Christmas wip i want done before the holiday week my new upload schedule is mon,wed, fri, and saturdays for now on usually around 7pm cst .

─── ☆ length. 954 (8 min read) .

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, smut, no plot/plotless, pwp, size difference, size kink, consent is sexy, Toji kinda being a soft dom, kinda bratty reader, failed cowgirl, missionary, manhandling, pet names, unprotected sex, meat to meat!, eye contact, dumbifcation, over stimulation, multiple orgasms, stomach feeling, chain dangling, implies of creampie | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

You had caught yourself in a bit of a problem when you said, "I can’t." 

Your thighs trembled as you struggled to maintain a sitting position. Your muscles ached, and your chest heaved as any small shift had you seeing stars straddling Toji’s lap.

Small whines exhaled from your throat as your arms wrapped around his neck, even with the gesture of encouragement from his thumbs rubbing against the skin of your hips, letting you take complete control.

You at first thought it was a wonderful idea, not acknowledging the knowing look in Toji’s stare. 

He knew you were just being a brat since you would struggle to even fit him entirely in your mouth while giving him a blowjob, but seeing the determined look in your eye had him sitting back and entertaining your entire allusion.

Laid against the headboard with both hands kneading against your hips, there wasn't an ounce of concern in his eyes, as he hadn’t bothered to help you one bit as you were starting to backtrack on your plans entirely.

Your face twisted into a grimace as you slowly lowered yourself down, inch by inch, almost panting as you let out a long string of curses before finally bottoming out his entire length inside of you.

Your eyes were squeezed shut as you leaned forward, listening to Toji's deep chuckle. 

His muscly arms drew you into a soothing embrace, allowing you to catch your breath and listen to the pitter-patter of his heartbeat as your chests pressed together.

"It won’t fit." Your voice trembles as you shift your head to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. A shiver up your spine from the slightest movement of having him stuffed completely inside of you.

"Then how about we make it fit?" Toji surprisingly granted you mercy, giving you a moment to fully collect yourself before moving around to a more comfortable position, pushing aside the lightheaded feeling that left you feeling strangely empty as he pulled out of you.

Clenching against nothing, Toji gave you enough room to lie on your back, his hands wrapping around the bend of your knee to yank you closer to the edge of the mattress standing near the end of your bed.

As if they had belonged there, your thighs had wrapped around his hips in an instant, settling on your back. Everything about him leaning on top of you made you clench your fists around nothing in arousal—his stature completely enveloping you, his large muscled forearms encircling you on both sides. 

"Huh, how does that sound pretty?" Your head could only nod as your body shivered at the feeling of him using the slick of your arousal to coat the hilt of his length, rubbing himself against your folds in a teasing manner before sinking his tip between them and splitting you open.

As he continued to bottom out with one careful thrust, you let out a pierced moan. the first noise of bliss shared between the two of you as his hips met yours, stuffing you completely full.

It should have been considered illegal how good the drag of his meat felt against your walls, every inch making your spread thighs tremble as they started to ache from being too pushed apart. 

The moment his rhyme picked up you were convinced you were bound to start seeing stars soon. 

The wet sound of your pussy clenching against him as he thrust in and out, falling in love with the pick up of his breathing as he rested his forehead against yours watching every change in your expression. 

You don't pay much mind to the small gold chain that dangled just below your breast. The glint of the cold jewelry brushing against your exposed skin with every thrust had kept your brain too occupied with the abuse of your cunt to pay it any mind.

Toji pulled away to give you enough space to lean back against the sheets, you'd be thrashing if it weren't for his entire body weight holding you against the mattress as he adjusted himself to stuff inside of you at a deeper angle.

Your eyes were rolling up as your body tensed, having a sneaky orgasm—just the first one of the night—as he continued to fuck you through it.

"You still with me, princess?" He uses his palm to guide your chin back down, his long fingers ghosting over your cheek as he playfully slaps you, having the audacity to pose his words as any old innocent question, as if he weren't fucking your brains out right now.

As the buildup of your second orgasm began to boil over, you could only manage whimpers and broken moans.

convinced you were going to just pass away from the feeling of bliss as his palm fell flat against the pudge of your stomach, pressing into the flesh and feeling himself with a breathy chuckle.

You had almost found it sickening that he had found so much satisfaction in fucking you to the point of overstimulation, as tears swelled your eyes along with your second orgasm that left your nails clenching into Toji’s forearm.

His pace doesn't falter, doesn't even stutter as you shiver and shake under him, and you don't bother holding back any noises that come from your throat.

Toji doesn't seem to mind humming in agreement to every broken sentence, whispering compliments about how well you were holding up for him while he uses you raw like his personal fucktoy.

"I told you it could fit, baby," he coos, his tone laced with false kindness as his hips drive you deeper into the mattress. "Now the hard part is gonna be pulling out."

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All yours

NSFW Content!

Eren Jaeger x Female Reader

Summary: Leaving your toxic boyfriend seems to be a mission impossible, especially when he shows you just how good you could have it with him every single time.

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: cursing, oral sex F receiving, unprotected penetrative sex, spit, dirty talk, degradation, choking, impact play (slapping), creampie

…..

Ring ring

He’s calling you. Again.

Your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

You’re lying in bed, hugged by your favourite warm blanket with a bowl of popcorn sitting right next to you, a glass of sparkling wine in your hand as you watch the last season of The Bachelor and wipe your running nose every now and then. Ideal.

Keep reading

me love some red tags

Don’t Call Me Selfish, I Hate Sharin'

Attack on Titan

Pairing: Yandere!ex!Eren x naive!female!reader

Genre: Angst & Smut

Synopsis: Did you really think you could slip out of Eren's grip so easily?

Word Count: 1K

CONTAINS DARK THEMES!

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

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A/N: first fic on this blog!! This fic is inspired by the song “New Magic Wand” by Tyler, The Creator. I hope you enjoy :)

Warning(s): Face slapping, spanking, toxic!eren, toxic relationship, dacryphilia kink, degradation, name calling, mentions of cheating, tummy bulge, safe word being ignored

THIS FIC CONTAINS NON CON! ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ “But Eren!”

“Shut it, slut.”

“We’re not even together. You can’t just take me away like this!”

Eren scoffed, pulling you with him to his car. “Oh really, who’s gonna stop me, huh? Your precious, little Jean?”

“Eren don’t be ridiculous, just stop! They’re waiting for us.” You planted your heels and tried to pull away but his grip was too tight.

“I don’t fucking care. I’m not letting you go back in there.”

“Please, just let me go! I’m tired of dealing with your shit all the time.”

Without warning, Eren turned around and slapped you hard. “You sat on Jean’s lap for what, 5 minutes and think you’re so tough now? Don’t you dare fucking talk to me in that way ever again.” You held your burning cheek and kept your eyes on the ground. Just like that, he was able to get you back under his control.

People often wondered how you two ended up dating. Eren, the jackass, and you, the sweetheart. It actually wasn’t complicated at all. Eren had always noticed you because of sweet nature and gathered the courage to ask you to the school dance in your senior year of high school. In the beginning, he was a wonderful boyfriend. He was changing, becoming more kind and considerate like you. That is, until you get into college.

It wasn’t exactly Eren’s fault that he was brainwashed by a bunch of jocks who were encouraging toxic masculinity. Some of his jock friends told him that he didn’t need your permission for anything. You’re his girl, he owns you, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted with you. That night, he dragged you into his dorm and fucked you hard, even though you told him you didn’t want to have sex because you had a lot of homework to do.

It all started on that night. For the first time, you used the safe word and to your shock, he ignored you. In fact, he began fucking you harder. You vividly remember trying to push him off of you, but with most of his body weight holding you down, it was next to impossible. The rest of the night, you were faced down on his pillow, soaking it up with tears. The next morning, while he snoozed, you exited quietly and avoided him the whole day. He’d finally got a hold of you in the library and asked why you'd been ignoring him. You were in disbelief and began tearing up in front of him. “How could you ask me that so calmly after what you did to me yesterday.”

“You were prioritising something else over me. I needed to show you that I should be your number one priority. Just like how you’re my number one priority.” It only took a couple days for you to forgive him but things still weren’t normal. Eren’s anger issues kept getting worse and worse by the day. The worst part of all, he’d take it out on you. He’d either lash out on you, make you cry then apologize an hour later with “makeup sex.”It was a cycle, and dear god, it was exhausting. Coming back to your dorm after a long day of class only to see Eren on your bed, ready to have sex. If you refuse, he’d argue. If you didn’t moan loud enough, he’d argue. If you fell asleep right after instead of giving him attention, he’d argue. There was no winning against this man. The last fight that you guys had was probably the worst.

He’d accused you of sleeping around with the football team even though he’d be fucking you every night. You, for the first time stood up for yourself. The night ended with both of you screaming at each other then parting ways. You did cry that night. Feeling overwhelmed with school plus the accusation of cheating when he knows god damn well you wouldn’t do anything like that gave you a terrible migraine.

All of that happened exactly two weeks ago.

Eren couldn’t last 2 weeks without you. You weren’t someone he could just replace. Though he would never it say it outloud, he can’t fucking live without you. You’ve adjusted to his life so perfectly, having his only joy taken drove him mad. The cherry on top was when he walked in on you and Jean, lips almost touching. Eren felt his world crumble apart.

So, here you guys are. In the back of Eren’s car, windows fogging up and you’re sobbing into his neck once again. He has your wrist pinned above your head while he continues ramming himself inside of you. The loud, wet claps and your sobbing weren’t soothing in the slightest. “Are you ever gonna leave me again?” You turned your head away from him but he grabbed your jaw and forced you to look into his emerald green eyes. “Answer my fucking question.”

“E- Eren please stop! P-please!”

You should know this by now. Eren Jaeger is a very impatient man who doesn’t like to repeat himself. He flipped you on all fours, and slipped back in. “I’m giving you one more chance to answer me.” He slightly picked up your hips, the position allowing him to penetrate deeper than before. You felt his cock kiss your cervix and that’s when your arms gave out and your upper body fell on the seat. “E-eren! You’re hurting me. Pull out, please.”

“You hurt me too! You left me, you fucking cunt! It’s all your fucking fault.”

“But I- I didn’t - ahh!” Another struggled moan left your lips as he landed a spank on your ass and pulled your hair until your back was against his chest. He placed his hand on your stomach, feeling his bulge move inside of you. “You’re the reason why I’m miserable. So, it’s only fair if you suffer with me. You deserve this, angel.”

“Eren, w-were not good for each. P-please, we keep hurting each other.” That earned you another slap on the face. “I’d rather fucking die then see you happy with someone else.”

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sucks ass but it's 4:30am so I'm gonna go to sleep. I'll be doing the headcanon requests later today, I suppose. Thank you for requesting!

xoxo,

Naina❣️

Milk, Honey, and Sugar Masterlist

Eren J Masterlist

AO3 Link

Wattpad Link

Pairing: Yandere Eren J x reader

Total Word Count: 32.9k words

Chapter Count: 6/?

Content: College AU, Yandere content, Eventual smut, Dark content

Content Warnings: (more specific warnings on each chapter) kidnapping, stalking, slight DubCon, Stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, Yandere themes, Branding, violence, slight infantilization, drug(?) use(anti-depressant, pain-killers, allergy meds), Smut (Soft dom! eren, Marking, Heavy Petting, size diff, breeding, praise, light degradation, overstimulation, light BDSM), some angst with comfort, mostly soft eren

Series Summary: You and Eren were always close. He’s your best friend—but to him, you’re so much more. And he’d do ANYTHING to keep you safe from the dangers of the world, more specifically the dangers of other people; even if it meant keeping you all to himself and isolating you from everything you’d ever known.

Chapter list

Chapter one - Obsession (4.6k)

Eren has been with you since childhood, and you’ve always considered him one of your closest friends. He however, sees you differently. Much differently.

Chapter two - The Preparation (3.2k)

After a run-in with you at the mall, Eren is more eager than ever to put his plan into action. So the first step he takes is preparation, so that things are all ready for the your stay at his—soon to be yours as well—home.

Chapter three - Early Summer Party (3.6k)

The end of school is here, so there’s an early summer party being thrown—A perfect opportunity for Eren to follow through with his plan.

Chapter four - Home (3.5k)

You’re finally home. Right where you belong. You’re a bit confused, sure, but who wouldn’t be? Eren is there to help you settle in, even if you don’t want to at first.

Chapter five - Untrustworthy Syndrome (6.7k)

It’s been days since you woke up here, and you’ve only now been reported as missing. The basement gets lonely without Eren there. You miss your friends. You’re growing more and more reliant on Eren every day, even though you don’t want to.

Chapter six - Anger and Bargaining (11.1k)

Your first taste of freedom in almost a week turns sour, and now you’re stuck trying to pick up the broken pieces of trust and put them back together before Eren decides to keep you in the basement forever.

Extra things

Eren’s house

A sketch made of Eren’s house, the main setting where the story takes place

#milk honey and sugar

A tag for everything involving this fic