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#cyancherub
bleach-your-panties · 5 months
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🥀⛓️like you mean it⛓️🥀 ----- 𝖘.𝖐𝖆𝖎𝖇𝖆𝖗𝖆🩸🔪
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🥀written from prompts chosen by the wheel of misfortune created by @/cyancherub
🥀includes: dub-con, cucking, 69, stranger sex, & mirror sex. mdni! 18+. dark content warning. horror warning.
🥀banners made by me on canva/pic collage. images from pinterest. blood divider from google.
🥀4.5k words
🥀B/n = boyfriend's name
🥀october 31st, 2023
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The sounds of cheerful laughter, concession machines whirring, and parents screaming for their children to 'stop running' rang throughout the periphery of your hearing while you stood with your boyfriend in line for the cotton candy.
Halloween night, the night of your first official date after you accepted the proposal to be his girlfriend.
He's a fairly handsome fellow: tall, athletic (you already knew that he played on the soccer team and ran track at your university, courtesy of your nosy roommate), neatly shaven face, with a dazzling white smile; bright, chocolate brown eyes, and a robustly defined body.
Being with him on this cool, spooky night (the spookiest night of the year, no doubt) caused a tingling euphoria to race down your spine and ignite your nerves.
Yes. You'd never had a boyfriend before starting university.
You were the quiet, smart girl in school. Not popular, but also not a total outcast. So, as you stood in that line with your boyfriend, whose looks could rival that of any male model, you felt good.
Proud even.
Not to say that you're unattractive - no! Not at all! You just never pictured yourself standing beside someone who looked so....well-put-together. So perfect.
"You look zoned out. Not trying to think of a way to ditch me, are you?" B/n smirked while outstretching his arm to hand you a bouquet of wiry, blue fluff.
Quickly shaking your head and smiling, you accepted it and brought it up to your mouth to steal a bite.
"Not at all. I wouldn't even dream of ditching you out here. All alone and cold on a cloudy, October night with no telling of what could be lurking in the shadows. I hope you don't feel that I'd be that cruel."
He let out a loud chuckle,
"I certainly hope not. You're too beautiful to be cruel."
That comment made you blush and push a breath through your lips as you felt your face heating up.
He thinks I'm beautiful.
"Aww, shucks. Now you're going to ruin my cool kid facade and make me blush."
"I'm sorry, but I don't see any cool kids around here. Only a hottie that really knows how to make a university sweatshirt look like something off a New York Fashion Week runway show."
"Hottie? Are you a Megan the Stallion fan?" You giggled.
As the two of you talked, you moved further away from the crowd and bright lights and more towards the carnival rides.
You didn't think your outfit was all that special: your maroon and white band sweatshirt, black washed out-denim miniskirt, black tights with random holes cut out of them, and shiny, maroon Doc Martens.
With a simple shrug of your shoulders, you continued to eat your cotton candy.
Squealing like some ditzy fangirl at every compliment thrown your way is definitely not how you want to present yourself to your new beau. You have to play it cool.
Before the handsome man could retort, however, your cell phone buzzed.
emergency alert: escaped inmate. all citizens to be on high alert. more updates as they become available.
B/n was tucking his phone back into his pocket when you looked over at him.
"Well, that's certainly disconcerting. Though, it is Halloween. It could just be a prank to scare people." You announced with confidence laced throughout your tone.
He couldn't help but chuckle at you: you looked and sounded so cute, he'd drink up whatever you said and proclaim it as fact. 
Moving closer to your side to engulf you in a side hug, he pulled your body snug against his own, making sure to keep you shielded from getting tousled by the groups of teens and adults alike headed towards the haunted maze.
"You don't have to try and be brave for me, sweetheart. It's my job as the man to protect you after all."
It might come off as rude for you to scoff, but the blush brewing on your cheeks would contradict that action anyway; you're liking this attention that's being bestowed upon you.
"Oh, why do I have to be trying, why can't I just do it?" You giggled.
The two of you passed by what looked like a group of university students. Some of them were wearing sweatshirts similar to yours, but colored a deep navy blue with red and white detailing.
A straggler trailed behind the group, typing on his cell phone. 
Average height and normal, modest build, he doesn't stand out too much. Dark brown, shaggy hair and black, languorous eyes.
Unlike the others in the group, he's wearing a black sweatshirt with a white overlapping UA design, baggy black jeans, and black platform Converse.
He's not ugly by any means. Just…
Unremarkable.
He's not paying attention to where he's walking, too absorbed into his phone, when he slams into your side.
He would've knocked you off of the path if your boyfriend didn't have a tight grip on your waist.
"Sorry!! I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking, I-"
"She's good, man." 
The look on Sen's face reflected his confusion. He didn't think that he'd overstepped or done anything that could be perceived as disrespectful.
"Right. Sorry again." 
He awkwardly moved along, trying to catch up to the group, which you assumed were his friends.
B/n's grip tightened on your waist and you noticed the way his forehead wrinkled just slightly in irritation.
"Fucking nerve of that guy." 
You were just a bit taken aback by the aggression in his tone, but wrote it off of him just being protective.
"Yeah, that was kind of weird, but look! The line for the maze isn't that long yet; let's hurry!"
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Gleeful screams and laughter are in abundance as you and B/n approach the maze's entrance. 
The whirring of a chainsaw somewhere nearby makes you squeal in delight as two middle-school aged children rush past you, holding hands and giggling uncontrollably. 
"Oh wow, they really went all out, didn't they? Chainsaw killer and creepy, dark stone maze? They made sure to pull out all the stops." You smirked.
Chuckling and moving you along with his hand on your lower back, B/n seems quite pleased that you're enjoying yourself.
"Yeah, they did. Despite its creepiness, though, it'd make a great place to make out, don't you think?" He smiled at you with a teasing lilt in his voice.
You snorted. "Hmph, maybe." 
Is he implying that he wants to make out? 
Your cheeks warmed up; you're not prepared for this. 
The maze gets darker and darker the further you two walk in; the moon now hides behind dark, wispy clouds. 
It's like the temperature suddenly drops twenty degrees, making you feel the biting cold even through your thick sweatshirt.
The laughter is starting to sound farther away, but the chainsaw is still loud as ever. The sound sends chills down your spine and causes goosebumps to rise up all along your arms.
"You alright? Hey, look at the vines. Aren't they pretty? Imagine how this place would look in the daytime, with the roses blooming on the hedges." 
B/n is fantasizing about your next date. It would probably be a picnic in a flower garden with multicolored roses surrounding both of you. 
He can't wait to spoil you and give you all the nice things that you deserve.
You're about to respond when suddenly the sound of the chainsaw is right behind your ear. As you let out a surprised shriek, you're pulled harshly by your sleeve.
Sneakers slap against the stone pathway as you and B/n run for your lives away from the paid actor wielding the highly dangerous power tool.
He's laughing as sweat drips down his forehead even in the cold air. You can hear him asking you if you're having fun.
You're not sure anymore.
"L-look, that might be an opening up ahead!" Your finger points towards what you hope is the end of the maze. The exit.
Your male companion nods and your direction shifts towards the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel.
Something is shining down there, even though the night is so gloomy and you're completely enclosed in this stone fortress.
Your footsteps slow as you get closer and realization dawns upon you.
It's not an exit.
Instead, a long mirror is situated right in the center of the stone wall. The sliver of moonlight glinting off of it gives it the illusion of an open doorway. 
Only reflecting the path in front of it, the one which you'd just come down.
"Fuck…how the hell are we going to get out of here?" You curse.
B/n hums thoughtfully. You both stand and stare at your reflections in the mirror. 
The sound of the chainsaw started up again, but it sounded further away this time. That made you squint your eyes in confusion.
In the next moment, footsteps are running in your direction. Rubber soles squeak and slide against the cobblestone and before you know it, that same kid from before is practically running into you again.
His face has a light sheen of sweat, the perspiration dampening his hair, beading on his forehead, and slowly slipping down his nose.
“You again…” You say as you just stare at him. He drops to his knees, his breaths coming out in short puffs.
“I-I got separated from my friends back there...The chainsaw guy came at us full force, we split up and ran in different directions...”
Both you and B/n are looking at him now. 
“What do you mean? The chainsaw guy was just behind us…I heard it, loud and clear…”
Sen slowly cranes his head upward to peek at your face. His cheeks grow a pink tint, as your tight-covered thighs are right in his line of sight.
He begins to rise to his feet and you realize that he’s a few inches taller than you, though several shorter than your boyfriend. 
“That’s not possible, unless there were two of them instead of one. Usually they’d mention something like that at the entrance before letting people in.” Sen places his hands into the pockets of his black sweatshirt.
“Right, well we should keep looking for the way out. We don’t want to-” B/n is cut off by the loud screeching that you remember from earlier. It’s coming from all three of your cell phones.
The emergency alert system.
“escaped prisoner sighted on or nearby local fairgrounds. exercise extreme caution and awareness! vacate premises immediately if-”
BRUM-BRUM-BRUM-BRUM-BRUMMMM-BRRRRR!
“HOLY FUCK, LOOK OUT!”
Bursting from your left, a masked person wielding a large chainsaw with a rusty blade lunges towards you and B/n.
“Fuck!” Sen stumbles backwards and falls, landing harshly on his side as your weight on top of him sends both of you sprawling across the ground. B/n had pushed you out of the way just in time to prevent you from being decapitated.
The psychopath grins maniacally and revs the machine again and swings it towards B/n. He’s quick to duck out of the way, no doubt his years of running track, combined with adrenaline, contributing to his remarkable speed.
“Leave him alone!” You shout as you attempt to scramble away from Sen, but the dark-haired male quickly pulls you back into him by your arm. A surprisingly muscled arm tightens around your waist and keeps you pressed against him.
"What are you doing? Get off of me! I have to help him!" You pushed against Sen once again, but he held you even tighter. 
The chainsaw's engine revs again and this time it's pointed right at your face.
"You'd do right to listen to him. Make another move and I'll slice right through your pretty face." 
You could feel every drop of blood in your veins turn to ice as all the color drained from your face. Not just at their words, but upon closer inspection, you can see that the chainsaw's blade is not rusted.
It's covered in dried blood. 
H/c hair swayed from side to side as you shook your head, eyes clenching shut in utter horror and disbelief.
That chainsaw is definitely real, but maybe this person just really knows how to play their role. Maybe the blood is fake. 
"Hahaha, what's the matter, sweetheart? Can't believe this is happening to you? Well it is! This ain't no goddamn skit; it's the real fucking deal." 
Sen keeps his arms around you in a protective hold, but you wish it wasn't him. 
You wish it was your beloved boyfriend holding you close and protecting you much like how he was earlier.
Before your perfect dream turned into a complete nightmare right before your eyes.
"Open your fucking eyes!" 
They snap open on command. You don't want to take the risk of making this person any angrier than they already are.
"Why are you doing this? What do you want from us?" It's B/n speaking up.
Internally you're screaming for him to shut up, to not say another word that may result in his serious injury or, worse, death.
The perpetrator quickly turns on him with the deadly weapon. He falls back on his ass and yelps in pain.  
You crane your head around the tall, imposing figure to see your boyfriend clutching his ankle. He must've landed on it the wrong way. It's clearly twisted and possibly broken.
"Oh, what a shame. Looks like you won't be able to run from me anymore. All three of you are stuck at my mercy, how delightful!" 
Sen decides to speak up then. He tries to keep his voice from wavering. He has to be the strong one in this situation. 
He has to be the man and protect you now.
"What about my friends back there? Did you…did you murder them?" 
Loud, psychotic laughter is his answer and Sen drops his head regretfully.
"What an idiotic question to ask a serial killer! Now, as much as I'd love to hear you three beg me for your pathetic lives, I've thought of something much more interesting."
The three of you wait in silence, neither of you daring to ask what they had in store for you.
They take the chainsaw and held it over your boyfriend's head.
"PLEASE, NO!"
"QUIET!"
You whimper sadly and Sen strokes your hair gently, bringing your head to rest on his chest.
"I won't kill him, yet. Before he dies, why don't you give him a show, huh, little one? I want you..," They point a long, black-gloved finger towards Sen, whose eyes widen,
"..To fuck her while he watches." 
His jaw drops and you can feel his body shake in fear.
"I-I can't…I.."
The engine revs once again. Louder and more menacing than the other times.
The sound echoes inside your head and you look up at Sen.
He looks down at you, his dark eyes conflicted.
"Do you…?" 
You just look at him blankly. He can't tell what you want, but you're not explicitly telling him no.
He's going to hate himself for this, but if it's the only way for you all to make it out of this alive…
"I'm sorry about this, but I really don't want to fucking die here.."
You don't know what to say to that, but your body shivers when Sen begins to move his hands down your sides.
His fingers play with the hems of your sweatshirt and T-shirt, ghosting over the flesh of your tummy just barely.
The chainsaw-wielder clicks their tongue.
"No, no, this won't do at all. He can't even see you."
Another startled yelp from B/n; they've got him yanked up onto his knees as they begin to drag him closer to you and Sen. His injured leg trails behind him pitifully and he's propped up against the stone wall to your right.
"Turn around, face the mirror."
The mirror, you'd completely forgotten about it.
Effortlessly, Sen picks you up and situates the both of you to where you're now staring back at yourselves in the tall slab of glass.
It's dark, but the clouds have moved away from the moon so its light can illuminate the dastardly deed that you're about to commit.
You're about to cheat on your boyfriend on your first date.
Right in his face.
"Get to it, then. Don't keep him waiting. If you do a good enough job I might let you all live." 
An evil chuckle and then the chainsaw is powered off. They look at you and Sen expectantly, B/n doing the same.
You can see him out of the corner of your eye, watching you in the mirror with a neutral expression. 
He doesn't know what to feel; his ankle is throbbing in pain and his girlfriend is in another man's lap. Not to mention his life has been threatened more than once in only a single night.
Sen's lips tremble as he trails them along your shoulder, pulling the collar away from your neck so he can reach the s/c skin underneath.
One of his larger hands rests over yours, squeezing in a show of support.
He's sorry, oh so sorry that he's putting you and your boyfriend through this, but he can at least make the experience somewhat pleasurable for you.
Make you feel comfortable with him.
A soft moan escapes your cold, slightly chapped lips causing Sen's cock to stir in his jeans.
He shifts his legs and opens them wider so you your ass can sit flush against his crotch.
Even through your own jean-clad bottom you can feel him getting hard for you.
"Y-you're enjoying this…is this what turns you on? You're sick…"
You whisper to him, a stinging edge to your tone that makes Sen's ears burn in embarrassment.
And lust.
"I-I'm sorry…I can't…can't control it. You're so soft and you smell so good…" 
How long had it been since he'd had a girl sitting on his dick, and one as pretty as you, nonetheless? 
His hormones are going into overdrive, causing his movements to grow bolder.
Sen takes his hands and places them on your knees so he can spread them apart. 
He wants to see your panties, but your tights are in the way; so, with one hand he grips the offending material at your crotch and tears a hole right through them.
Heat licks at your neck despite the cold, and Sen's tongue does as well.
The warm, wet muscle provides a pleasant contrast to the biting cold. He leaves a slimy trail of saliva all the way from your neck down to your collarbone.
Shivers run down your spinal column and your cunt moistens through your royal purple panties, much to Sen's delight.
Though the only reason you're letting him do this to you is to save your lives, he can't help but get excited at the image of you getting wet for him.
A complete fucking stranger.
Sen apparently isn't the only one getting turned on from this situation.
You look from your reflection in the mirror back to B/n and a soft gasp leaves your lips.
He's palming his dick through his pants. Perfect white teeth clamp down on a juicy bottom lip while his brown eyes watch your pussy through the mirror.
"Looks like somebody's enjoying himself!" The killer laughs cruelly.
This is what they wanted: to completely embarrass and humiliate you three.
Tears begin to sting your eyes, but what can you do? It's either let this stranger fuck you or you all die.
Sen's fingers on one hand move to push your skirt up while the other hand rips the hanging material of your tights the rest of the way off.
He reaches under your ass to get to his belt and quickly unbuckles it to free his hard, throbbing dick.
You can't see it in the mirror from the way you're sitting on him, but when he shifts to line himself up with your panty-covered cunt, you can feel the head brush against your clit.
"Ohh…" The moan leaves your throat on its own accord.
Sen is encouraged by this and he moves his head to rest against yours.
Kisses are planted on your cheeks and temples while he strokes his cock with one hand and pulls your thong to the side to reveal your wet pussy with the other.
"Shit, you're so wet…don't worry, I'm gonna make you feel so good, make you even wetter for him to see…" He coos into your ear then nibbles it. Your back arches against him.
He chuckles softly and slides his dick through your folds, lubing himself up.
"Such a pretty pussy. What a lucky fucking guy…"
Is the last sentence the dark brunette speaks before thrusting his hips up and burying his dick deep inside you.
"F-fuck! Ahh…so thick.." 
Your mind turns hazy when Sen starts fucking up into you at a quick, but steady pace.
His dick isn't the longest, but it's girthy and there's a few veins along his shaft that massage against your inner walls oh so deliciously.
"Shit, it's so warm and tight. You like it, huh? Like my dick? Look at how you're starting to cream on me already, baby."
 
He's telling the truth because when he says it, your eyes move down your reflection to where the two of you are joined and you can see the white froth coating his dick as he moves it in and out of your hole.
"Ahh…feels so good…fuck…don't even know your name.." 
"It's Sen…oh my God.."
His balls smack against your ass cheeks as he moves one arm around your waist so he can bounce you on him harder.
Your head is thrown back and your nails scratch at the material of his jeans.
You and Sen's combined moans further spur on B/n, who's jacking his dick faster and faster while Sen fucks you. 
"Look at that, he's so fucking hard watching another man stuff his girl's little cunt. Fucking perv. Bet he can't wait to get you in his bed tonight so he can….haaah…fuck my fucking cum deeper in your little hole. Shit!" 
Sen's dirty talk only added to the pleasure that he was making you feel with his dick. Noticing how you had started watching B/n jack off through the mirror, he grew a bit jealous and turned your head so he could kiss you sloppily on the lips.
"Oh yeah, that's the way to do it, you fucking scumbag. Fuck her like you mean it." 
The killer's laughter echoed all around you making you jolt back into the reality of your situation, though it didn't stop the orgasm from building in your lower region.
"Fuck Sen, I'm going to cum!" You moaned, eyes squeezed shut while said man fucked you harder and faster, wanting to make you feel good, to make you cum on his dick before you could on your boyfriend's.
"Come on, baby, cum on my dick. Make your boyfriend cum, too, from watching you get fucked." He palmed one of your ass cheeks, lifting you up slightly before slamming you down on him, hard.
Your body started shaking, making Sen curse under his breath and speed up his movements.
"That's right! Dick got you fucking shaking! Cum all over me baby, let it go….oh fuck." 
Just as he told you to, you came hard and squirted all over Sen's dick. Your squirt splashed up onto the mirror, making his tired-looking eyes widen.
"Goddamn, you sprayed the whole mirror almost. Shit that's hot." 
His voice was laced with exhaustion now, all traces of fear and apprehension seemingly gone.
Now fired up from watching you squirt, Sen maneuvered himself up onto his knees and caught you by the hips.
Confused, you tried to look back at him, but you understood when his softening cock was now bobbing in your face.
A mewl left your throat when that slick tongue swept through your folds and began collecting the remaining drops of your squirt.
"S-suck it…suck his dick, baby…come on.." B/n moaned while feverishly pumping his dick. 
Your pupils enlarged once you saw how long and thick it was and your pussy drooled on Sen's tongue at the thought of B/n fucking you next.
With your little hands, you began pumping Sen's dick at the same pace as B/n, making sure to make eye contact with both of them the best you could through the mirror.
"Awww, fuck yeah. So sexy, baby. You're so fucking sexy, the perfect girl." B/n moaned as he watched you engulf Sen's fat dick in your mouth and hollow out your cheeks.
"Oh, goddamn…unhh.." Sen's head fell away from your cunt and his body shivered this time.
You may have never had a steady boyfriend before, but you'd had a few flings the summer before university started, so you knew your way around a dick quite well.
Sen thrust his hips forward, making you choke and gag on his fat cock. Saliva ran down your neck to his balls while they slapped against your chin.
"Fuck, where'd you find her? Fucking slutty ass pussy and mouth. Oh God…" He said to B/n.
The night air was filled with the sloppy sounds of you gagging on Sen's dick and the wet sounds of B/n jacking off.
Sen tried to keep eating your pussy, but your head was just too fucking good and he couldn't stop himself from moaning.
"Shit! You ready to take my fat load in your mouth, baby? Be a good girl and swallow it all for me, okay?" 
You nodded best you could and started sucking him even harder, triggering his orgasm. 
"SHIT! Oh my fucking God!" 
Sen almost dropped you on your head as he knelt down on his hands and knees to gather himself after you swallowed all his cum.
"I'm…I'm coming, shit, that was so sexy…ahhh.." 
Hearing this, Sen quickly grabbed you by the hair and moved your face into B/n's lap so he could spray his nut all over it. You looked up at him with the most adoring and innocent look in your eyes, which almost triggered a second orgasm from him.
"Damn…that was the best sex I think I've ever had in my life…" Sen sat back against the wall and sighed heavily.
Slow clapping started and the three of you looked up to your captor.
Silently you pleaded to yourselves that they'd let you all go now since their wish had been fulfilled.
"That was very good, but…." 
The thrum of the chainsaw started up again. You weren't fast enough to move in front of him before the blade came down on B/n's head, splitting it wide open and spraying both you and Sen with a fountain of blood.
"Not good enough." 
The sound of the chainsaw's blade and blood splattering against the mirror echoed throughout the walls of the stone maze.
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54prowl · 1 year
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HELLO <333 for your tiny blorbo ask game (THEY ARE SO CUTE). perhaps aki from csm (if it inspires u)!!!
hello!!!
"let me see what you have!" "a knife!!" "NO!"
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tiny blorbo ask game
comms are open!
tip jar
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bastardblvd · 9 months
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GRIMETOWN CONSTRUCTION CREW IS FLOURISHING IN THIS ECONOMY WITH ALL THE NEW STRIP CLUBS OPENING
CASSIE JKFDSALS CAN U PICTURE SLIMEBALL CONSTRUCTION WORKER!KIRISHIMA INSTALLING THE POLE AND THEN TAKING IT FOR A SPIN
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hayakawasb1tch · 10 months
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gives u a kiss upon the forehead
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HELLO CASSIE DEAREST
UPON MY FOREHEAD 😭💗 gives you a smorch right back
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bfbkg · 2 years
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43 for the ask game <333
thank u cassie for sending !!! i got out of breath so QUICKLY LOL
43 What's your music taste? Any factors as to why you fell in love with that type of music?
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ihatebnha · 2 years
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CAITIE THIS ASK GAME IS KILLING ME LMFAO. this is inexplicable but to me u are giving A1# AKDALDKL
LMFAOOOO I KNOW, i've literally never seen anything like it omg???? but asdkfjasl the yerb energy here is k i l l i n g me. thank u + love u, ofc!!! #
-
what vibe do i give off?
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Yuuta… Tanjiro… Aki… Kaname… lemme oniichan my way into your pants
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florasuno · 1 year
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How I started menthol pt 3:
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How I ended:
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vampyrsm · 1 year
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THE GASP U GUSPED ALEX PLEASEFSLKDL IM CRYING
PLEASSE DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I RESTRAIN MYSELF DAILY TO STOP MYSELF FROM SAYING THINGS LIKE THAT 😭😭😭 it’s a struggle
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basoorexxiaa · 1 year
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i’m taking matters into my own hands and making an edit of aki with tattoos
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uppermocns · 1 year
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why, just why /hj
I DIDN’T CHOOSE TO BE CAST INTO THIS BRAINROT IT JUST CONSUMES YOU WHEN YOU LEAST WANT/EXPECT IT
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ryndicate · 1 year
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Seal It With a Kiss ⨳ Kishibe
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"You want me to do this for you? Then tell me exactly what it is that you want."
notes: I came up with this idea for @akiniku back in like september when i was just beginning to sniff around the csm fandom for a favorite. Dom told me all about him and i fell in love and came up with this plot and *then* I read csm lol. 6+ months later, here we are T-T thanks to @cyancherub for reading through his characterization for me and for my past and future beta readers<3 (i know some of you havent gotten the chance i was just too excited) Idon’t know if i will ever be able to put as much love into a Kishibe fic ever again so lets try to appreciate this
warnings: female reader, longer than a drabble, alcohol, virginity loss + inexperienced reader, creampie, emotional manipulation, coercion but there's consent, age gap (like 30 years between them, fight me), trainee/mentor relationship, twisted savior complex, canonverse, piss (more about control than it is the kink)
Rules/BYF/DNI
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Kishibe sighs. “That’s it for today.”
“Already?” You puff, sweat dripping down your temples, your blade lowering until the tip is pointing to the ground. “I could keep going.”
He sighs again, resisting the urge to rub the approaching headache from his temple. Kishibe will never understand the PSDH’s insistence of sending him all of their potentials. Their screening is usually decent enough to keep this type of student from beneath his weathered wings, but every now and then one will slip through. One like you. Earnest, hopeful, and far too willing to do the job. This ain’t the place for you, never will be. They set you loose on the streets and you’ll be some Devil’s next meal. 
But it’s not his place to care. Not supposed to be at least. Makima won’t even tell him which Devils you have contracts with—but again, he doesn't care.
Kishibe ignores your mumbled complaints about cutting your training short, sighing under his breath. “Gonna need’a drink after this.”
He’s unprepared for you to pop up at his side, tilting your head as you ask if you can come with him.
“Why?”
The question seems to put you off. “Isn’t it good manners to take your juniors out after a hard day?” 
Kishibe huffs at your coy tone, certain you’re just after a free meal. “That’s for juniors who’ve proven they earned it.”
That seems to put you off even more. “You don’t think I’ve earned it?”
“No.” His answer is short, clipped. Dark eyes watch intently as you deflate a little, that perpetually cheerful expression drooping into something he ultimately decides is an unsettling expression on a face like yours. He doesn’t care for it, unable to decide why. 
“How’s this?” He grunts, pulling a cigarette from his pack and lighting up. “I’ll give ya a week.”
“A week for what? You're not supposed to smoke inside, you know.” A sulky tone meets Kishibe’s ears, your eyes tracking his lips and the flare of the cherry as he inhales.
He ignores the snipe. “You get close enough to me to take one of these away—” a twitch of his fingers has flaky ash fluttering to the linoleum, “—and I’ll take you out for drinks. That’s how you earn it.”
The sparkle is back in your eyes in an instant. Your sword tips back into its sheath, coming up on his left to give him a smile. "You got it, sir! You'll never smoke again. Just watch."
Kishibe rolls a shoulder, suppressing a groan at your chipper attitude. I'm getting too old for this shit. "We'll see about that, sweetheart."
He's ignorant to the way the words make you pause, moving for the door, ready to get in his car and drive to his regular dive bar. He needs the silence of the drive before he drowns himself for the night. Well, not so much silence as the rattling heating unit, the rush of passing cars, and music so quiet one might question why it’s even on. It’s simply the beginning step of the ritual he’s come to find most comforting, or numbing, on this job. 
"See you tomorrow, sir?"
“Yeah.” He doesn’t even bother glancing back as the door closes behind him. 
The autumn air clears his head a little as he finally escapes the hallways of the office. A cold breeze whips at his hair, bringing old scars and memories to mind as it bites at his skin. Kishibe takes a final drag of his cigarette and lets it fall to the pavement. He doesn’t stub it out, pulling out the collar of his jacket to fight the chill as he disappears into the evening crowd.
“That is not how this works.”
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“There’s no way this doesn’t count!”
“Give them back.”
“I said you’d never smoke again, didn’t I? I didn’t think you of all people would want me to go back on my word.”
Kishibe takes a careful inhale through his nose, closing his eyes for a beat and convincing himself he won’t kill any of his trainees. He’s sent you to infirmiry more times than he cares to count with these training sessions, to bring home the apparently wavering point on your young dumb invicibility complex, but he knows where the line is. So when he opens them, Kishibe fixes you with the same intent stare that usually gets his subordinates to straighten up, or clingy women out of his apartment. Dark, unimpressed, unwavering.
You are painfully undeterred.
“I had to get close enough to take them from you. That’s what you said.” You stand in front of him, at a regrettably smart distance, looking mighty proud of yourself as you clutch the worn white box carefully in your fist. After five straight days of utter and total defeat, you’d made your move on the car ride over this morning instead. 
“I said one, not the pack,” Kishibe drawls. “And you know damn well that ain’t the point here. Nickin' them from the car is not the same.”
You shrug, a familiar petulance beginning to saturate your tone. “Not my fault you weren’t paying attention. You said that kills people.”
Unprepared for the—still a smartass answer but—wisdom of your words, some of the intensity dissolves from his eyes. As if he really needed that reminder. He still has his doubts. 
“No arguing that,” Kishibe sighs, scratching his neck. “Guess you get what you wanted. Drinks on me tonight.”
A triumphant smile brightens your face, but it doesn’t last. The barest moment later you find yourself flat on your back on the training facility’s floor, groaning at the impact. 
Kishibe flicks his lighter, sparking his cigarette and taking a grateful inhale of sweet nicotine as he stands over you, impassive.
“But I’m still gonna make you earn it, sweetheart. Getting overconfident and lettin’ down your guard also kills people. Get up and block me next time.”
“Yes, sir."
He might have been harsher on you today than entirely warranted as he watches you wince and shift, trying to get comfortable in the weathered booth of his usual bar. But really, to go any easier on you would do you a disservice if you really are this hellbent on working in public safety. Part of Kishibe is hoping one training session—and soon—he’ll find your limit and you’ll realize you aren’t making the cut. At the very least he’d like you to settle for the civilian sector. Hell, Kishibe despises paperwork but he'd write your damn recommendation.
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You’re peering around the dimly lit space. It's hazy with smoke, with a scent to match. He probably could have taken you somewhere nicer, but he really didn’t want to stray too far from his own comfort zone, so what the hell. This was your own idea anyways. 
“Are you even old enough to be in here?” Kishibe asks suddenly, catching the eye of the bartender and tipping his head. 
“I came of age a couple months ago.”
Kishibe cringes inwardly at your prideful tone. Fucking great. He eyes you as the bartender begins to edge out from behind the counter, watching as you glance around a little frantically for a menu. Shoddy place like this doesn’t really have one. 
Kishibe gestures between the two of you before the man has to cross the bar completely. “My usual. Double for me.”
"What's your usual?" You ask curiously. 
"Whiskey. Nothing fancy, just cheap and strong." 
"Oh."
The glasses are placed in front of you and you give what Kishibe sees as an awkward smile at the bartender as your fingers wrap around the glass. He takes a grateful gulp, unable to help but notice you haven't made a move with your own. 
"Not to your taste?"
"I don't know," you answer plainly, tilting the short glass and letting the amber liquid catch the light. "Never had it."
"Never had whiskey?" Kishibe hums, bored, taking another drink. The double is going fast. The familiar warmth has already settled in his chest, an old comfort. 
"Never had alcohol."
Sucker punched with that information, Kishibe pauses and swallows the last of his glass before setting it down and signaling for a refill. He's far too practised to waste a drop of a drink he's paying for.
"Why are we here?" It's a shrewd question, a shrewd tone. "If you've never had alcohol, why were you so insistent on going out for drinks? Isn't that something you do with your friends?"
Your fingers tighten on the glass, a small pout forming on your lips. "Didn’t wanna do this with friends. Wanted my first drink to be with you, s-sir." Embarrassment coats your features as your words stumble off at the end, and you return to examining your still untouched drink.
Kishibe's refill arrives, another heaven sent double. He's getting the faint inkling that something else is happening here and he's far too tired to pick the answers out of you.
"Lemme get this straight," he drawls, leaning forward and jabbing a finger at you over the rim of his glass before bringing it to his lips. "You wanted your first drink out with a tired old man instead of your friends?"
"You're not tired!" 
Your tone is scandalized, pitch rising high enough that it catches the attention of some other men seated nearby. The last thing he needs.
Kishibe scoffs, scar twitching as he fights a sardonic smirk. "Beg to differ sweetheart."
"You're not, you…you're—" your volume is back to normal, seemingly struggling with your words, and it's amusing if not slightly endearing. 
"Lemme know when you think of something, I'll be here," Kishibe mumbles, drinking again, content to watch you squirm. "You gonna take that first drink? You got me here, like you wanted. Might as well."
That small smirk finally fights its way onto his lips as you give him the barest of glares. He usually doesn't see that look on you until you've gone an entire session without landing a single hit. It's cute. 
"You're you. Don't gotta 'splain myself to you," you grumble, timidly lifting the glass to your lips.
"No, you don't," Kishibe rumbles in agreement, watching as you take your first swallow. 
To your merit you don't splutter or cough, but a grimace splinters across your expression as you swallow and stare down at the glass in mild disbelief. 
"This sucks," you announce firmly.
Kishibe barks out a short laugh and finishes his second drink. "I'll order ya something else."
He's reaching for your glass when you snatch it away from him. 
"No, I'll finish it. This is what you usually get?"
"Yeah. But take it easy, that's a—" Kishibe stares, a little defeated as you down the glass. "Tha'sa sippin' whiskey."
"What's that mean?" You croak out, your face scrunching up despite your efforts.
"It means you're getting a glass of water before I get you anythin' else."
"Why?"
You'll thank me in the morning, Kishibe thinks grimly, not deigning to answer. Along with the next few rounds and the rounds after that, he also orders your water and some food, feeling abnormally generous. Maybe he just doesn’t want to deal with your grumbling tomorrow at training. 
He can’t stop thinking how strange this is. It’s strange. You’re here in his usual booth, humming an odd tune while drinking his usual whiskey, when he’s here each night, usually alone. Kishibe feels the deep disturbance all the way to his roots, gnarled and twisted as they are. 
Watching your face twist up at the taste again, Kishibe decides to slow down with some soju instead. Your eyes are getting blurry and your hands have settled into some kind of nervous habit, picking at the edge of the table as you try not to look at him. He doesn't understand your insistence here. Here at the bar, or anything else. 
"Why are you doin' this?" He asks again, quiet.
You glance at him, blinking slowly as your gaze struggles to focus. Then you force a smile, sweet and pure as a Devil's heart. It's damn near chilling to see. 
"'Cause I want to, sir."
"Bullshit." He's looked into you. Your family is alive, financially stable. You're not like most rookies joining up for the pay or the revenge. And from being around you he figures you aren't the type to do this for status. So it doesn't make sense. 
Your smile fades. "What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said. You're not cut out for this shit, kiddo. An' I think ya know it, too."
"It's my first night out drinking, how can you tell?"
"Don't play coy with me."
You stand sharply, unsteady, a look crossing your face that Kishibe can't read. Before he can speak again, you're sliding into the booth on his side. 
"Then ask me directly, sir." You whisper, trying valiantly to meet his harsh stare, before eventually losing your nerve and fixing your gaze on the table. 
Like Kishibe has any problem being direct. Fine then. He sets his glass down and turns his body to face you. "Why're ya training so damn hard to become a Devil Hunter when it's just gonna get you killed?"
Cheeks warming, you don't look at him again. "Every Hunter has their reason, or else they wouldn't be here. We don't gotta share them unless we want to."
Your words are halting, and slurred. Kishibe pushes your drink out of reach. A fifth of whiskey and bottle of soju between you both for your first night out was an oversight on his part, even if he had more than you. 
"And you're not goin' to tell me?"
Head dropping into your palm, eyelashes fluttering, you peek up at him. "Not unless you can tell me why you care."
Kishibe pauses. He's got plenty of reasons, but he's not uncouth enough to say them to you. 'Cause he doesn't want to be wasting his time prepping meat for the chopping block. 'Cause booze is expensive and sleep is precious. He doesn't get enough as it is and he's sick at the idea of losing more. 'Cause every time one of his trainees dies, it feels like a new scar cracks its way across the already trampled fragments of his soul. 
There's plenty of reasons he drinks himself nearly dead every night. 
Your fuzzy eyes peer into his darkened ones and seemingly run into the wall that you know he's put up. "Then it's better you don't ask, sir. It’s important to me, that’s all you need’ta know."
So much for direct.
There's a silence at the table after Kishibe gruffly orders another drink, his mood for the night officially ruined. This is why he doesn't socialize with coworkers. Save people by day, check out at night. He lives for one fleeting peace; he'd rather be drowning in booze and laid up in the arms of whatever woman will put up with him.
And all he has right now is booze. He flags the barkeep. "Bottle for the road."
You shift to look at him. "Are we leaving already?"
"Yeah. You've had plenty."
There's no complaint, but there's no mistaking the look of disappointment on your face as he takes your arm and helps haul you to your wobbly feet.
"What's that look for?"
"I was having fun, sir."
"Stop calling me sir."
"Why?"
"Cause we're at a fucking bar. Sir is for work."
"Then what am I supposed to call you?"
"Just Kishibe."
He finally looks at you again and you're smiling and this time there's nothing to be unsettled about. "No honorific? You'll let me call you by name?"
"It's sir at work," Kishibe reminds, deadpan.
“And master in front of other hunters, I know,” you parrot cheekily, and Kishibe merely curls his lips in a temporary smirk.
“Damn right.”
"But not at work?" You prod, leaning into his frame heavily as the cold night air washes away the warmth of the bar.
"Then yeah, drop the honorific."
"Kishibe." His name leaves your lips as a wonder-filled giggle. The corner of his lip tugs further upward unwittingly in dry amusement. At least someone can salvage the mood for the night. 
You poke at the bottle held loosely in his grip. "Can I have some of that?"
He passes it to you. "You don't even like the stuff."
An impressive amount of the amber liquid disappears down your throat before you groan in disgust and pass it back to him. "Sometimes we do stuff we don't like 'cause we get something out of it."
Kishibe hums at that. "And what do you get out of it?"
"'S a secret."
"A secret, huh? You seem to have a lot of those." He drawls, keeping you upright when you almost fall again. Yeah, he needs to find you a taxi or something. Neither of you are driving tonight. It's a little annoying, he meant to stop at the convenience store to get another pack of cigs before going home tonight. The crumpled empty pack is still in his pocket—he hasn't had one since this morning and Kishibe can feel the irritation in his nerves. 
"What's your address kid?" He nudges you as the taxi pulls up, but your weight against his hip suddenly feels dead. "Are you—of course you are."
Kishibe's whole chest fills with his next sigh, and he quietly works to get you into the cab. The driver asks him where they're going and he actually has to think about it for a moment. He'd much rather prefer going back to his cozy little hideout, but it's a mess and much too small. Not to mention he absolutely does not want you knowing where it is.
Closing his eyes, Kishibe reluctantly mumbles out an address, and sinks even deeper into his bottle before the cab drops them off at the requested location.
He eyes you over as the elevator quietly ascends, one arm around your waist with yours around his shoulder to bear your weight. It's really no wonder you passed out, the scent of whiskey is just about crawling out of your pores. Between the two of you, Kishibe bets the elevator smells like a distillery.
The doors open into his “apartment”. 
He doesn't like sleeping here. The place is too big, ceilings too high, furniture too fancy. All those high windows and modern grays and whites. It's perfectly clean and perfectly lifeless, set up for him by the PSDH. He's sure some bright-eyed big shot hunter in it for the money and high living would get a kick out of the place, but for a man like him the space is just obnoxious. But since his studio isn't an option, and Kishibe can't be bothered with taking you to a hotel, he figures you'd rather prefer one of his guest rooms instead. 
Kishibe flinches and grumbles under his breath as the now empty bottle slips from his hand and clatters to the hardwood. You make a rather undignified snort as you startle to awareness. If one could call it that.
“Wha—” Your fingers cling to the sleeve of his jacket as you blink through the blur of your eyesight, struggling to find your footing. “Where’re we now?”
“My place.”
“You live here?” 
“Technically.”
He hauls you towards the kitchen, somewhat a struggle with your uninhibited desire to swivel your head and scan the place as thoroughly as you were presently capable of doing.
“Not what I pictured.” You wobble and right yourself, slumping against the marble countertop. Kishibe pauses, making sure you’re gonna make a dive for his floor before he turns to pull open the fridge.
“Yeah well, me neither.”
“It’s so clean.” That earns you a grunt. “And modern.”
“You tryin’ to say something, sweetheart?” He sends you a look that sends a hot wave of embarrassment across your face.
“No! ‘M just sayin’...”
“Yeah, whatever. Here.”
You take the water bottle he pushes into your hands and open it, halfheartedly taking a few sips to ease the simmer in your cheeks.
Kishibe snorts when you put it down. “Nuh uh, finish that.”
You take another sip, trying to placate him. “‘M not thirsty though.” 
Your eyes widen as he grumbles and steps closer, dark eyes narrowed. It’s impossible to muffle the noise of complaint on your lips as he tips the water bottle back, keeping your chin up with an uncompromising strength. "Tough. I said all of it."
The rough pads of his thumbs feel like fire on your jaw and he seems to have no idea how his proximity is setting you ablaze. You quickly swallow before you choke, or worse spill down your chin like a child. He doesn’t let go until you’ve finished the bottle—it’s impossible not to gasp for air as if you’ve breached the surface of a pool for the first time in minutes.
“Pretty good lungs.”
“I almost died—!” You wheeze, unappreciative of the joke, wiping your face with your arm.
“You were gonna be dead in the morning if you didn’t. Might as well get it over with.” Kishibe sets the empty bottle on the counter, unflappable.
“Hmph.”
You watch curiously as he grabs himself some water, noticing with a scowl that he doesn’t drink nearly as much as he forced on you. He reaches for a small bottle, rattling as he shakes a couple into his palm. “You’re not supposed to take those with alcohol.”
Kishibe gives you a dry look and pops the painkillers into his mouth. He can feel his head pounding already, his routine thoroughly interrupted. He can’t mentally check out with you still here, especially in this state. You look a little more solid now compared to your unconscious slump, but you’re still visibly swaying, blurred eyes drifting in and out of focus. Last thing he needs is for you to do something to yourself when he’s around. The paperwork for that would be the death of him.
He shrugs and nods for you to follow. “C’mon, sweetheart.”
You suddenly look nervous. “C’mon where?”
“Night’s over. Time for bed.”
You produce a shaky laugh. “What?”
Sweet fuck.
“You want a bed or the couch?” Kishibe takes applaudable effort to keep the exhaustion out of his tone. Honestly, you'd probably be better off with the couch, grateful for your mumbled little ‘doesn’t matter to me’. He's not sure of the state of any of the rooms, considering he's trashed them before. Whoever set the place up for him might have a cleaning service but he's never bothered to ask about it since he’s never here. “There’s blankets around here somewhere.”
Stepping into the living room he sees he’s right, a couple of soft looking throws draped over the back of a plush black sectional. You’re trailing close behind him, like you’ll get lost if you lose sight of him. 
“Sit.” Kishibe says tiredly as you circle around the edge of the sectional, looking around curiously.
You listen and he grabs the other blanket off the far arm of the couch, tossing it and one of the pillows towards where you’re sitting. The pillow lands at your side, the blanket haphazardly in your lap, are you’re just staring at him as he settles on the other side, shrugging out of his suit jacket and letting that fall to the floor.
“Get comfortable, go to sleep,” Kishibe grunts, closing his eyes.
“You’re staying in here?”
He doesn’t read into the tone of your voice, keeping his eyes shut. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t choke on your own puke in your sleep.”
“‘M not gonna puke,” you grumble under your breath.
Kishibe wills in a sigh, listening to the rustle of blankets and what he assumes is you settling down. Only to tense as the cushion near him dips under weight. He opens his eyes to see you sitting you next to him and his eyes sharpen.
You cut him off, seeming to sense whatever biting remark is coming. “I’m not tired. Not good at sleeping in new spaces.”
“Well you need’ta try.”
“Can we just talk for a bit?”
He sighs, but he doesn’t refute you, opening his eyes to give you a quiet stare. “Fine. What do you want to talk about?”
Relying heavily on the lingering alcohol in your veins to gather the nerve, you scooch closer to his position on the couch, dragging the blanket with you. “You’ve really never had anyone over here? But Himeno says you never spend your nights alone.”
Kishibe eyes you warily as you enter what he considers his field of personal space, your knees barely brushing against his thighs. “I don’t normally spend my nights here. And you can tell Himeno she’s got better things t’do than gossip about my personal life.”
“So you spend the night at their place then?”
“Sometimes.”
“Are you really the womanizer everyone says you are?”
Kishibe glances up to see you even closer and shifts a little to give you a measured look, eyelids drooping in suspicion. “You really want the truth of that?”
“Yeah, ‘m hoping to hear something,” you murmur, heart racing as you place a hand on his abdomen. It stiffens under your touch, but he makes no move to stop you, so you toy with the button of his shirt. 
“And what’s that exactly?” Shock receding, his mind catches up and he grabs your hand, keeping it from tracing its upward path.
“There’s something I’m hoping you can help me with, sir.”
“Kishibe.”
“Kishibe,” you correct, cheeks warming as you finally raise your eyes from his chest to look into his own. He’s watching you so closely that you almost look away again, almost chickening out. 
His eyes are locked onto the way you’re chewing at your lip, waiting for you to say something more, hoping for anything that makes sense. When you don’t his patience thins enough to ask, “Well?”
“I-um,” you hesitate before your fingers curl into his shirt, mentally fortifying yourself, “I’ve never… I’m looking for someone experienced to- to help me. I want it to be you.”
There's a small pause as his whiskey-addled mind filters out the meaning of your words. Then, a small disbelieving smirk is half-formed on his lips when he scoffs out a laugh. “Ha, no, sweetheart. No, I don’t think so.”
He’s shifting to stand up off the couch when you panic. You’ve gotten this far! He has to hear you out, or you’ll never be able to look him in the eye again, let alone train under him. So before he can, you throw your thigh over his lap, straddling him. His hands flash to your arms in an iron grip, keeping your hands from wandering any further. He’s staring at you in muted disbelief, tense, as if he can’t quite believe you’re defying him. 
“Please wait,” your voice raises in pitch, but you’re almost whispering. “I can explain, please just listen.”
“What? Cute little student girl got the hots for teacher? Or are you desperately in love with me now, and can’t bear the thought of anyone else sullying your innocence?” he drawls out, the insanity of this situation finally allowing him to release the floodgates on all the ill manner he’s been attempting to keep back all night. 
Your face might as well be a space heater as you splutter in mortification at being seen through so easily, trying to find the words to refute him. “N-no! No, I wasn’t. That’s… That’s not…”
“You better clear this up real quick then, sweets, cause you don’t have long before I take it into my own hands,” Kishibe warns lowly, soft and dangerous, seconds from calling a cab to get you miles away from his apartment, and more importantly him. 
The hard-eyed stare he’s giving you now is nothing like the way he looks at you in training. Your heart sinks into your stomach at the thought that entertaining your feelings is enough to make him react this way, turning him into this colder version of himself that you barely recognize. This is not going the way you intended, but you can’t imagine that you’ll ever be in a situation like this ever again, so you take a deep breath and clear your expression of all deceit. “It’s not like that, but I really can’t think of anyone else to help me with this. It’s not for lack of trying.”
Kishibe eyes you, his grip on your arms not slacking. You glance down at him warily, and he’s like a bristling cat that’s making an attempt at trust. 
“So…? Will you help me?”
He mumbles eventually, still tense, “Why not Hayakawa? Or one of the other rookies, they’re probably better suited.”
You make a face. “The rookies are stupid, and Hayakawa-san is just too… stern.”
“I’m not stern?”
“That’s not the point!” You retort hotly. “Hayakawa just seems more like someone who isn’t interested in casual flings—”
“And that’s what you’re looking for here?” Kishibe cuts in drily, noting the way your mouth snaps shut. You shift awkwardly in his lap and he stoutly blames his nightly routine for the way his body is sluggishly perking to life. He might have the heart of a saint, but his mind is more like a devil’s… and he has eyes.
Oblivious to his internalizations, you grimace. You don't want casual anything so it's technically a point in Hayakawa's favor. But there's one big point in the younger man's (begrudgingly small) list of cons that can't be overlooked: he's not Kishibe.
“I’m looking for someone who knows what they’re doing,” you inform him, your voice softening. There’s a sort of vulnerability to you now that has the older man caving despite himself and listening more intently, watching you whiplash between assertive and shy for the nth time. “Someone I trust, who won’t take advantage of me. And… I don’t believe the whole sacred virginity schtick, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want my first time to be… I don’t know, special?”
Kishibe’s mouth runs dry, and this time he blames the alcohol. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Don’t say that,” you plead softly, leaning closer without thinking in your excitement. That wasn’t a refusal. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal, I don’t have anyone else to ask.”
He can feel your breath on his cheeks, his eyes bouncing between your lips and eyes for a moment before humming low. “No one else? A girl like you, having to settle for an old man like me?”
"No one has to know. Please, sir?" You plead quietly, with crystal notes of sincerity. It's a painfully sweet sound.
Kishibe reluctantly lets your arms slip from his hands and drops his own to loosely grip your waist, absently drawing a pattern on your hip with one finger. The heat of your body is filtering so thick through your clothes that he doesn't know how he didn't notice it until now. You shiver at his touch, and he tries to keep his expression neutral when you instinctively grab at his shoulders.
He shouldn't be considering this for even a second, but he is and he hates himself for it. You're a young pretty thing, and he's made a point to stop looking at young pretty things the way your touch is sparking him to, for going on years now. 
Carefully, one hand moves to rest on your stomach, caressing its way up over your covered chest, eliciting a soft gasp from you before it moves on and settles under your chin, firmly tugging it down to make sure you're looking at him. He's never cared for the way you can't look him in the eye, and he normally lets it go but he won't tolerate it tonight. If he goes through with this, that is.
Your eyes are wide, and glazed in a way that has nothing to do with alcohol for the first time tonight. Kishibe makes a low sound in his throat at the sight of it before speaking, a heavy, rumbling tone meant to ensure you're taking in every word. 
"You want me to do this for you?"
"Yes." Your breath catches as you damn near breathe the word out, your heart in your throat and a flutter in your stomach that makes you feel like you might fly away.
"Then tell me exactly what it is that you want." Fuck, he’s really doing this.
"I…" The hesitation must be clear on your face because his expression gets heated, a tiny smirk forming at the corner of his lips. You wouldn't have seen it at all if you weren't staring at them so hard. A quiet moan spills from your lips as he presses them to your jaw, not quite kissing, but dragging them up, warm breath tickling your ear. The center of your world quakes as he continues with that low, soul-quaking tone.
"Do you want me to treat you like a princess? Worship your body and make it all about you, take you to another world as I take you apart?" Kishibe marvels at the broken whimper you make as he grazes his teeth across your earlobe. "Or do you want me to be a little selfish? Show you pleasure as I know it, and change everything you think you know about carnal desire?" 
"Sir—"
"No," he warns severely, gripping your thigh in warning, pulling back to look you in the eye. 
"Kishibe," you correct yourself with a breathy whine that you hope doesn’t sound ridiculous. "Kishibe, I want you to choose."
"You want me to choose?"
"Th-that's why I chose you. You always- always know what's best."
That's so far from true, but in this realm of possibility, with you blinking those sweet little doe eyes down at him, Kishibe won't be the one to correct you. "...Alright."
"Then please take care of me." Please.
This time it's him who shudders. "Alright," he murmurs again, "Alright, sweetheart. I've got you."
He’s a little gentler this time as he tugs your chin down to him, meeting your lips in a delicate kiss that has all his nerves standing to attention in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. With other women, he has no reason to be slow or gentle. With other women, both parties know what they’re there for, but this isn’t like that. You aren’t like that. You’re young, and if you’re to be believed, untouched. Pure. And you’ve put yourself in his care, begging for him to remove that purity. He’s not sure he ever would have agreed to this if he were sober, so you lucked out. Or maybe this is what you wanted all along.
Kishibe groans softly as you timidly move to respond to his kiss, alcohol sweet on your breath. You at least seem to know what to do here, parting your lips and staying pliant as he learns how you taste, moving your tongue against his as he explores your mouth. He breaks for a moment, giving you a warning and enough time to stop him, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “I’m taking this off now.”
He waits, and when you do nothing but moan, he begins to pop the buttons of your shirt open, one by one from the bottom up, exposing your navel, and then the black cotton bra beneath. You kiss him deeper as he slides a hand up your spine, rocking your hips into his lap as he pulls at the clasp, undoing it in a practised move. The fabric falls loose, and he presses a hand to your sternum, forcing you to retreat.
Your lips are slick, a little swollen, but it’s the hazy look in your eyes that has all his attention. “You good, sweets? You even gonna remember this in the morning?”
“I will. I will, 'm promise. Please keep going,” you slur, not really giving him the best vote of confidence. 
“Take that off for me.” Kishibe tugs loosely at your bra, the cups hanging just low enough for him to get a peek at your areolas. His cock is straining in his slacks now, but he’s too invested for it to be uncomfortable yet. He meant it when he said he was going to take you apart, and he’s going to do it slowly.
You blink at him, and timidly slide the straps off your shoulders. Your movements are slow, but there’s less hesitance than he’s seen so far. It’s clear you’re more worried about his disapproval than any insecurities you might have. Good. 
“Good girl. Look at you,” Kishibe is quick to dole out the praise as soon as your tits are exposed, half for your confidence and half because they really are pretty tits. He’s reaching for them before even he can process what he’s doing. Your nipples are already hard, pulled taut and looking painfully neglected, either from your own arousal or the air. It could be cold in here for all Kishibe knows, but the air around him feels thick, heated and charged. He’d be suffocating if he weren’t so focused.
You take a shuddering breath as he holds them. His touch is so light, the pads of his fingers calloused and warm, stroking over the sensitive flesh. You want more, arching into his touch as much as you dare, still unable to shake the thought that he might change his mind and end this, but for now he doesn’t disappoint. Dazed, you realized the sharp gasp that bites the air is yours as he strokes the pads of his fingers over your nipples before tugging lightly, pleasure rippling hot under your skin.
Your head tosses back in a moan as he does it again, this time his lips brushing the curve of your breast as he pulls you forward, pressing your chest closer to his face. He sucks at the fat of your breasts, still gently tweaking your at your hardened nubs, working his way over, seemingly content to explore.
Pleasure moves hot and slow under your skin, but your mind keeps rocketing from one sensation to another, making it impossible to think beyond the man beneath you. His slick tongue moving against your skin, the heat and wet of it stroking over the edge of your areola, the rough pad of his thumb, the scrape of his blunt nail over the sensitive tip of your nipples, the same callouses gripping at your back, fingertips tickling the edge of your shoulder blade. 
“Quit it,” Kishibe grunts after a minute, and you realize you’ve twisted your hands into his hair, tugging him closer and trying to drag him to where it feels like he’s purposefully avoiding. 
“Please, Kishibe, please,” you moan, blissfully unaware of the minor tantrum you’re throwing at you grind down on his clothed erection. “Your mouth.”
“What about it?” He blinks at you lazily, taking the moment where you sit back to tug at the top few buttons of his own shirt, exposing the top of his chest and a peek of the dark hair that’s hidden beneath.
“Let… Let me feel it,” you breathe out after you’ve snapped your eyes away from that new detail.
The slow grin that spreads across his features feels like the first key in the series of locks that surrounds the man in front of you, a piece of him that he doesn’t share willingly. Something that has to be brought out, dragged out, a prisoner in a cage of its own making. 
“Be more specific, sweets.”
But he’s still the same man, he just exists in varying shades. You squirm for a moment, subject to self-consciousness, but the ache in your nipples, growing tighter in the continued neglect, wins out. You cup your own tits, pushing them out as you lean back down to him. “Want it here. Need to feel you suck on them.”
An appreciative gleam brightens dark eyes. “There’s a good girl.”
This time Kishibe leans in with intent, and you learn something else—your mentor is a goddamn tease. 
His tongue drags over your nipples before sucking, and your hands are tangled in his hair again before you can process it, a cry in a pitch you don’t even recognize torn from your mouth. The slick muscle flicks over the tip as his free hand comes up to roll the other between his fingers lightly. You’re shamelessly rutting into his lap now, senselessly chasing the pleasure boiling low in your stomach, and you can feel him moan against your skin at the friction.
You feel the scrape of his teeth, light and intentional, before he pops off and switches to the other. The treatment begins anew and you swear you might be able to come from this, the wet suction of his mouth, the tacky warmth as he tugs and twists at the nipple still covered in his spit. But Kishibe doesn’t let you, noting the frantic ruts of your body and beginning to slow his efforts, easing you back down.
“Wait—” Your complaint rears itself as your fingers twist into the shorter hair of his nape, trying to tug him closer the moment he pulls away.
“Easy, I’m not done with you,” he rasps, taking your wrists and gently detanging your fingers from his hair. 
You yelp as he grips your thighs and flips your back to the cushions, a strength you already knew he had from all the times he’s stomped you in training, but it surprises you regardless. There’s no time to pick through your thoughts at the display, because Kishibe is bullying between your thighs and capturing your lips in a kiss that puts the last one to shame. It’s possessive, it’s plundering; erasing any other thought from your mind except the way he feels against you. How immovable he feels, his hips keeping your thighs spread, his obvious arousal against your core, his weight against your torso—whatever isn’t supported by his forearm against the cushions, just what he chooses to give you—the scratch of his stubble against your face, the ones he lets overgrow because they shadow his jawline again in less than a day. 
You moan into his mouth as a hand slips between your bodies, pulling the button of your slacks and pushing a hand into your panties, the sound turning into a high keen as he drags his fingers through your slit. You know you’re wet, soaked even, but it’s still a shock to feel your own wetness as he pulls back out, slick against your mound before he’s free of your clothing, to see it shining on his fingers when he pulls back to give you a breath. You knew you wanted him, but to see how much would be mortifying if he knew the truth.
The glisten on his fingers goes unnoticed for a second as he catches sight of your wrecked expression, sitting back on his haunches.
“Oh sweets, look at you,” Kishibe chuckles, voice tight. “You’re a pretty sight right now, and you don’t even know. A sweet little mess. My sweet little mess, for tonight.”
Making a decision, he swipes his hands on the thighs of his pants and undoes his shirt, tossing it over the back of the couch, aware of the way you stare from beneath him. He's getting there in years, but the aches of this job refuse to let his body go soft. There's a thin layer of soft skin stretched across the muscles beneath, making the definition less pronounced, less assuming, but there's no denying the power behind them as he flexes subtly, smirking when your eyes track the movement. 
"Hips up," he orders firmly, his fingers already tugging at the waistband of your slacks.
Not needing to be told twice, you shift and raise your hips as he pulls them from your legs, panties and all. You're completely bare under him, and he's still wearing his pants, the button popped, looking like a god above you. His eyes are piercing, his expression set like marble. As he puts hot palms on your thighs, spreading them even further apart, you think about how attractive he looks when he smokes, almost wishing he had a cig hanging from his lips so you could see it. 
Kishibe is staring intently at your pussy, the hunger in him growing deeper as he watches the muscles twitch. "So no one's ever touched this, huh?" 
You shake your head, whimpering as he pulls your sticky lips apart. 
"You lying, sweetheart? Not even you?" 
Kishibe pulls back the hood of your poor swollen clit, stroking it lightly with the tip of his finger, dark eyes watching your face intently. 
The touch rips a gasp from your throat like ice had been poured down your back, tossing your pretty little head back into the pillows as your fingers twist at what little slack the cushions beneath you have. Kishibe feels the flames of hell crawl a little closer to his own flesh as his arousal flares dangerously at the sight. 
When you remain silent he prompts a little cruelly for an answer, slowly circling the throbbing bud. "Hmm?" 
"I've-yeah I've touched it. Sometimes." 
"Tell me." 
"Tell you?" You suck in a harsh breath as one of his digits teases your entrance, but pulls away. 
"Yeah, tell me how you touch your pussy at night. I wanna know how you play with yourself." His voice drones with detached amusement but his dark eyes are sharp, the sight making your skin prickle with elation to be the center of his attention.
“Usually slow,” you breathe out, moaning when he moves to your clit again. Two fingers press on the bundle of nerves and begin to rub back and forth in a steady tempo. 
“Like this?” Kishibe murmurs, watching you closely.
“Slower,” your voice breaks an octave higher as he increases the pressure just a little, readjusting to what you now realize are instructions for him. “Y-yes, mm, like that…”
“Good. How about your fingers, hmm? You do that slow too?” 
You can feel yourself dripping down to the couch as his voice drips across you like honey. “Yeah, at first.”
“One to start?” 
“Fuck!” A keen tears from your throat as he slides the first digit in, abandoning your clit, the thick, calloused digit pressing in to the hilt with zero resistance.
“Or do you start with two?” Kishibe watches raptly as his middle joins his pointer in the rippling warmth of your cunt, the broken sob leaving your lips sending a irresistible wave of want tearing through his body. The way your hips grind into his touch, chasing more of him is enough to let him know that you can take more, but he lets you stay here for a moment, using his free hand to stroke over his confined cock as you writhe beneath him. 
It’s not hard to find the right angle to stroke your slick walls, curling his fingers up into the spot that has you tossing your head back with what almost sounds like a mournful wail, as if you’re just realizing that you’ve never really given yourself real pleasure before. Kishibe isn’t sure if you have to be honest, you haven’t said, but he isn’t concerning himself with that. He’s too focused on the way you shy away from his touch when he presses his thumb to your clit again, as if you can’t take the combination.
“Oh?” It’s almost a coo, delight pulsing in his veins. “Not like that huh? That not how you do it?”
“I can’t, I can’t—it doesn’t, n-never like this!” It almost sounds like you’re pleading with him, your eyes wide as you stare at him, a thick haze of shock and bliss covering your irises that Kishibe is losing himself in, pumping his wrist, tempted to add a third finger just to see what sounds you’ll make.
“Told you I’d change everything you think you know about pleasure, sweetheart.” He pulls his digits from your pussy, relishing in the whine of protest. And if he’s being honest with himself, there’s a bit of a power complex rushing through him, to be able to control your pleasure whether you think you can handle it or not is too alluring. It’s the thought of making you scream, nothing barred, as he forces ecstasty on you that you don’t even know exists on that has him pushing off the couch which a groan to finally free his cock, shucking his pants off, the liquor leaving him a little unsteady. 
“Sit up for me.” 
You do as he says, confusion scrunching you expression as he settles between your legs, his knees protesting only a little as he shifts so that the plush carpet isn’t dragging uncomfortably against his skin. A little yelp stays in your throat as he tugs you to the edge, spreading your thighs wider and positioning your hips up to expose your pretty pussy. He’s only a breath away, the scent of you thick, kissing distance really, when you slur out some nonsense that sounds questioning, but he can’t say he actually catches any sense of syllables from you.
“I’m thicker than most so you need this,” Kishibe grumbles, nipping at your inner thigh as you squirm and glaring you into submission, “But even a man with a pencil dick better be doin’ this for ya, so don’t accept less.”
Before you can come to terms with him on your knees before you, your mind fizzles out as his tongue swipes through your folds, and his groan vibrates deep into your core. If not for his hands keeping your thighs spread, you would have wrapped them around his head. His nose nudges at your clit as his tongue presses into your clenching pussy, and you can’t stop the garbled sound of pleasure as he laps at your walls, your head tossing back against the couch cushions as he eats you like a meal. It’s surreal, it doesn’t make a lick of sense but oh god you don’t care. The sounds of him slurping at your cunt makes your cheeks burn and you force yourself past your self consciousness to look down at him, the skin of your knuckles stretched tight as you curl them into shaking fists, trying to wrap your mind around the sensations. 
Kishibe flattens his tongue over your clit, and meets your gaze with a wicked gleam in his eyes as he slips a finger into you, savoring the way you clamp down right away, giving a reedy mewl. He can’t help himself any longer, one hand closing around his dick and beginning to slowly stroke himself, trying to go slow, to ease some of the pressure and calm himself down. He adds another digit, and sits back as he begins to work you towards your finish. 
“Should’ve done this in a bed,” he mutters under his breath, the scent of your pleasure thick, feeling mildly guilty as you tremble through your long awaited awaited high. Even his first encounter had been in a bed, traditional.
Kishibe hisses into your thigh as your fingers twist so tight into his hair that he’d snap at you if he were anywhere but here. Here with his fingers sweeping over your clit, watching the way your muscles ripple and tense, an obscene amount of slick and cum dripping onto his couch, and damn it why are you so easy to spoil? Why is he letting you practically rip the hair from his head as your hips jolt and jump, pleasure taking every ounce of your control away from you. There’s a wet sound as he finally pulls his fingers from your cunt, and you slump against the cushions, a looking so beautifully fucked out that it’s a damn shame you haven’t actually been fucked yet.
But that’s what you came here for, and Kishibe will not be the one to disappoint. He pushes to his feet for a moment and drags your hips until you’re both on the couch comfortably, and lets himself sink between your legs, his dick hot and throbbing against your inner thigh. It’s weeping precome and there’s a shivering sense of relief to know that his patience is finally about to be rewarded. 
“You still with me, sweets?” Kishibe murmurs softly, leaning over you, letting his lips drag up your throat in a possessive trail of teeth marks and bruises. “You ready for me?”
The prickle of his overgrown stubble brings you back down a little, and you moan as his tongue swipes over the indentations left in your flesh. “That was—” you gasp at a sharp dig of his teeth under your jaw, hips arching towards him as you feel the weight of his dick between your slick folds, thoughts flying from your mind as the thick tip of him slides over your oversensitive clit. “Oh fuck, Kishibe please. I need y- I need it, oh god.” Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he really is going to ruin you. You can’t imagine anyone else ever making you feel this good, so overwhelmed but so hungry for it.
“Good fucking girl,” he whispers, and your body lights up as he shifts back a little, the head of his cock pressing against you and easing inside your desperate walls. He grins as your arms wrap around his shoulders, lips searching for his as your hips try to squirm deeper onto his cock. He meets you in a deep kiss, but he grips your hips firmly, sliding deeper into your clenching pussy at his own content pace, groaning into your mouth at how hot and wet you are. So tight, so so tight, that he can’t stop the juvenile thought about being sure you were a virgin from flitting through his mind, but he lets it go, not about to sully this experience for you with his own pussy drunk stupidity, closing his eyes and falling deeper into the kiss, forcing you to slow it and calm down for him, echoing your whimpers with tiny groans of encouragement.
His thrusts are as steady and measured as they can be with the way your walls suck him in, pussy lips stretched wide around the thicker middle of his shaft. Every time he pulls out he can feel the way your body is trying not to let him go, and every sink home is accompanied by a shaky little exhale from you that sets a fire so deep in his gut that Kishibe is sure the whiskey is the only reason he hasn’t fallen to pieces yet. You’re so pretty and needy sprawled about beneath him, so sunk to pleasure that you’ve resigned to just taking what he gives you and it’s addictive. His cock throbs as he listens to your mumbled little slurs about how good it feels, and he has to pause, breathing deep and hard as he wills down a sudden and fierce urge fill you with cum.
Kishibe chuckles as he sits up and you let out a whine of disapproval, but a slow roll of his hips changes your tune immediately. You’re sucking him in greedily, your clit swollen and damn near begging for attention. He brushes it gently with the back of his knuckles, hissing as you squeeze him in response, getting impossibly wetter around his length. “Doing so good for me, how are you feeling?”
“More, want more.” It’s barely intelligible with how breathless you are, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes down your temples. Your face is so sweet, so open, trusting and needy and suddenly Kishibe can’t find it in himself to draw it out on you any longer, is done handing out pleasure piece by piece, as if he were passing out candy to savor. He wants to pour pleasure over you, wants you to drown in it, to fall so deeply into it that there’s nowhere to surface to, lost in an endless sea.
One strong arm slides under your hips and pulls you up into a better position, fingers digging into your hip as Kishibe begins to fuck you in quick, steady strokes. His forehead is pressed to your chest, cheek in plush of your breast as he controls his groans, a dark satisfaction choking out the last tendrils of guilt as your fingers desperately weave their way back into his hair once more, cradling his head tightly to your chest. There’s no more irritation; the sharp sting feels like a fucking prize, knowing that the price is an overwhelming pleasure that he can feel through you. You feel so good around him, responding so well to his movements, angling your own hips and moving back into his thrusts, that he can’t stop a continuous stream of curses and praises from melting into your skin.
“You’re doing so fucking good for me sweetheart, so good. Squeezing me so tight, wrapped around me so perfect. You feel good? Everything you fucking wanted, hm?” He bites at the flesh of your chest as you tighten around his dick, goosebumps rising visibly across your skin.
You feel like a live current, so electric and buzzing with energy and it feels like there’s nowhere for it to go, zipping up and down your body only to return, shivering and sparking deep in your belly. You try to articulate that this is way more than you ever thought you could ask for, but all that comes out are bitten hiccups of his name and yes and please please please.
Kishibe is more than happy to oblige, grunting and groaning in his throat, way past the point of feeling guilty that you’re losing your virginity on a goddamn couch, too caught up in your drunken slurs, more from pleasure than whiskey.
He grins as your fingers clench around his bicep, scrabbling as you gasp out, "Ohh, nngh—Sir wait, wait! Please I'm gonna—" 
"Go ahead, sweetheart." Kishihe groans, feeling the rippling constrictions of your sweet pussy drag him closer to the edge.
"No, I'm—I'm gonna pee! Please." 
Kishibe’s s head picks up off your chest immediately, and his thrusts stuffer. "Yeah?" You watch panting as his eyes sharpen, hips coming to a full blessed stop. You feel a bare moment of relief before its ripped away and he's moving again, fucking you a little faster than before. "Then go ahead." 
You give a wordless cry, shame and pleasure clamoring in the shrill note, your head shaking back and forth in denial. You can't hold it, not if he does that. 
"No?" Kishibe feels like the Devil himself as he shifts his angle into a grind, still fast and controlled, watching your features twist as you keep fighting to hold it back. "Am I not making you feel good?" 
"Sir!" Your whine draws the title out, panicked, but your knees dig tightly into his hips, your body at least betraying you. Kishibe works a hand under one of your thighs and presses it towards your chest. One of his palms drags down over your tits, stroking down your stomach to put a gentle pressure over your pelvis. Your eyes fly wide and a moan is forced from your lips as the awful urgency thickens, bliss flooding close to the surface. 
"If I press here you won't be able to stop it." 
Kishibe's stare catches your glazed eyes, dark and hungry. His orgasm is approaching steadily now, pleasure whispering selfish instruction in his ear, and he's unable to help but listen. "You'll come so hard it won't matter anymore. What's a little mess for some pleasure, hm sweetheart? If you want it just tell me." 
Your breath catches. His dick keeps hitting that spot in you that makes it impossible to think rationally. He's making you feel so good, goading you in that voice of his that you've worshipped fervently night after night in your apartment, a pillow as your altar. 
The voice in your head is screaming no. It's pee. He'll think you're disgusting and you look up to him so much. You don't want him to associate you with something like this, to so thoroughly debase yourself. But he's making you feel amazing, his cock bullying all your softest parts with undefinable experience. You've heard the gossip about how your mentor likes to spend his nights, but how are you supposed to complain when he's making you feel like this? And he's the one saying you can p— 
"Get outta yer fucking head and come for me, girl." Kishibe growls through his teeth, palm pressing down firmly, calloused thumb spreading over your neglected clit. 
You shatter and cry out, clutching at him tightly, no room for apologies as you tear red lines down his back. Warmth gushes against his pelvis, but the hot shame holds no candle to the blistering pleasure crackling across all your nerves. Listening to Kishibe groan and curse, the feel of him breaking down into something more genuine as his hips snap roughly into yours in chase of the bliss you’re already neck deep in, you’ve never felt more satisfied. He finishes inside you with a deep grunt and your insides flutter again at the milky warmth, your leg curling tight around his ass because you want all of it, you don’t want it to end yet.
But finally, his cock twitches one last time inside you and begins to soften, and Kishibe collapses on top of you with a little puff. You’re damn near ready to purr in happiness at the full weight of him across your body. His cheek rests between your breasts, but you’re unbothered by the scratch of his stubble as his breathing gets deeper, steadier.
Both of you are covered in sweat, cum, and other unspeakables but you’ve never been so comfortable. His softened cock slips out of you, and one of his arms slips under your waist and you feel your heart thud unevenly as he moves to his side and pulls you closer. His head is still buried in your chest, your one leg tangled between his thighs and your other draped over his hip. His eyes are closed, breathing deep and you find it in yourself to cautiously run your fingers through his hair. Kishibe gives a soft, sleepy rumble of contentment and you glow.
The feel of his hair between your fingers is the last thing you remember before the most luxurious drag of sleep tempts you into its clutch of darkness.
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You wake somewhere you don’t recognize, your head thick and pounding awfully. You blink slowly in the low lighting and try to sit up, but your head spins and the pain increases so you let yourself fall back with a low whimper.
You turn on your side, fingers curling into the soft covers over you. Last night had been amazing, but you’re certain you had passed out on on the couch, and as you peer around the curtain-darkened room, it’s easy to tell it’s not the same. You don’t remember being moved; you’d like to say you would have woken up if someone had, but even you can smell the alcohol seeping from your pores. 
Heart pounding unevenly, you try to calm yourself. You’d been dressed in a soft pair of boxer briefs and a tshirt far too large for you, and while you still feel a little bit sticky, you honestly had expected far worse—someone had tried to clean you up. Your heart starts to race now, fluttering and far too fast at the idea of Kishibe taking care of you. Those are a lot of extra steps to take for someone who preached respectable distance. 
“There’s painkillers on the nightstand.”
You finally manage to sit up at the promise of pain relief, seeing the foil tablets and a glass of water, and glance at Kishibe in the doorway, looking about as disheveled as you expect you do. He’s in a loose tshirt and a soft, worn looking pair of sleep pants, blinking sleep and liquor from his eyes as he peers in at you. 
“I’m gonna shower, you should too. There’s towels in the bathroom there.” He nods his head deeper into your room and you see another doorway, probably leading to the bathroom. “And you’re out of luck on breakfast. All the place has is coffee and water.”
Your stomach gives a displeased turn at that, desperate for something to offset last night’s alcohol. Before you can say anything, not even so much as a thank you, Kishibe turns and shuffles down the hall. 
Slowly, you ease out of the bed and gratefully swallow down half the water before even glancing at the pills, but your screaming head does make sure you toss them back as well, before you peek down the hallway your mentor had disappeared down. You hear the sound of running water and follow it, wandering through the doorway to the room he obviously slept in last night, the bed an unkempt mess of blankets. The door to the bathroom is closed, and there’s already steam filtering through the gaps.
Letting an uncharacteristic determination carry you forward, you open the door and begin stripping off your clothes.
“Get out, sweetheart.” Kishibe’s voice sounds tired and distant, filling you with nerves that you refuse to let show on your face as you ignore him slip into the shower.
He’s working soap through his hair, leveling you with a deeply unimpressed look that would have sent you skittering before last night, before he called you his sweet little mess, before he called you good fucking girl. You take a deep breath and speak your mind.
"I want that again." 
His response is flat, immediate. "Not gonna happen." 
"Why not? Was it not good?" You look embarrassed and distraught at the thought and Kishibe heaves a sigh. 
"How good it was has nothin’ to do with why we can't do this again." 
“So you regret it?”
Kishibe isn’t sure where he stands on that yet. “Didn’t say that.”
"But then..." 
"But what? I told you this was a bad idea didn't I? You should've chosen someone else. Anyone other than me." 
You get a little salty at that. "I might be younger than you," Kishibe gives a sardonic huff "—but I'm still old enough to make decisions for myself." 
"Old enough to make your own decisions, huh." 
You shift under the water as he gives you a tired stare, his gaze sharpening into something more contemplative, glinting dangerously. 
"So you're saying you want that again?" Kishibe questions calmly. 
"Yes," you whisper, uncaring if it makes you sound desperate. 
"If we do I've got some stipulations," he warns, voice low.
"Like what," your breath hitches as he leans closer, the water getting hotter against your back as he reaches past you to adjust the temperature. 
"Well for starters," he grumbles, "I don't have any interest in going to your place. It's here or nothing." 
"Fine." Your response is immediate, relief coloring your tone that you're not being immediately shut out. 
"And this arrangement will be temporary, no matter how long it goes on," Kishibe continues slowly, his fingers coming up to pinch your lips together, cutting off whatever you were opening your mouth to say. "I'm not the kind of man that would treat ya like you're nothin'. I'm gonna tell you you're sexy when I've got you under me and I'm gonna clean up whatever mess I make of you, so I need to know you're not going to confuse common decency and respect with love, got it?" 
You nod slowly, struggling to wrap your mind around the weight of his words. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, you just want more of whatever you can get. It's just a crush, maybe you'll figure out how to squash your feelings somewhere down the line. So you get a little hurt along the way, so what? You're not entirely sure how any of that is a problem and why he looks so serious.
"Anything else?" He hasn't spoken for a minute, but you can still see deep thought etched into his expression.
Kishibe glances at you, soap dripping from his hair down his neck. "Yeah, one more thing."
It's the most damning thing. Makima herself would be proud of him for this. This kind of thing is more her style, but he's already made it this far. 
"Ya have to join the civilian sector."
He senses more than feels you stiffen behind him, closing his eyes and beginning to rinse his hair out as he waits for you to speak first. He's not blind, not anymore—after last night he'd really have to be to not understand the way you've been looking at him, probably since the beginning. Kishibe doesn't know how he didn't see it sooner, probably willful ignorance. But his eyes have been opened and he can't unsee it; you're a brat; you wear your heart on your sleeve, and for whatever reason…its flag is flying his colors. So he's going to use that, and you can thank him when you survive the year.
"Join the civilian sector?" Your voice trembles.
Kishibe glances down to see you chewing your lower lip. "Or quit. Find a cozy desk job somewhere. Either works."
"Why?" Your demand is fierce but it's weak; you look like a scruffy little kitten that needs shelter but too scared to come out of the rain. Kishibe can see you crumbling already, making his final stab. Why you'd want him this bad is beyond him, but dirty tactics have never been beneath him. 
"If we're doin’ this, you're going to be available to me when I want you. Otherwise I can find others, like I've been doing. Finish up in here, and I'll make some coffee. Might as well go to the office together."
Despair crosses your features, and Kishibe lets the silence do the last of the work, stepping out of the stream and reaching for a towel. He makes quick work of drying off and getting dressed, bones aching for coffee. Curiosity pangs deep in his nerves as he wonders why killing yourself in Public Safety is even worth that expression, and why he’s equally as important as whatever it is. He tries to put it out of his mind and fails, fingers tapping on the expensive countertop.
As the coffee percolates, Kishibe hears the water shut off and the mental image of you stepping out of his shower flickers through his mind, ghosting along the memories of the way you felt beneath him last night. He tries and fails to admit to himself he’s not coming out entirely on top in this situation.
When you finally slip into his kitchen, dressed in your crumpled uniform from last night, you’re no longer wearing that brokenhearted little face, and Kishibe braces himself for whatever little pep talk you managed to give yourself while he was gone. He pushes a mug towards you and the sugar he somehow found while he was waiting. 
“I have my own stipulations,” you grumble finally, accepting the mug without looking at him, spooning sugar into it. He wants to wince at the shriek of metal on glass as you stir, but he doesn’t.
“If I have to quit the hunter society to be ‘available to you’, then you have to be available to me.” Your eyes are a little heated as they finally meet his, and Kishibe gives a noncommittal hum. “Meaning you don’t get to sleep around. Just with me.”
Ah. Makima would be proud of you too, Kishibe muses to himself. He decides to let you feel that victory and puts on a show, feigning annoyance. He drums his fingers on the counter and gives you a dry, measured look. “What, sweetheart, want me to get tested or something?”
You rise to his bait, snapping a little. “Maybe that’s a good idea.”
“Fine.” He shrugs and sips his coffee. “Maybe you should too, since you’re so worried about my health.”
Embarrassment burns your cheeks at the thought of making that appointment, but you push through it. “Fine, I will. I’ll be needing to get on birth control anyways.” The barest hint of shock flickers through his expression before he slams it back to its usual tired smirk.
“Anything else?” He asks, sarcasm barely kissing the edge of his tone.
Your thoughts scramble to all the things you’d listed to yourself in the shower but with him looking at you like that, bemused, confident, smug, you forget most of them. You latch onto one thing and give him a glare. “I get a key. And I can sleep here whenever I want. I’m not waiting outside in the cold to be your booty call.”
Kishibe gives you a look and starts to pull a pen out of his jacket but changes his mind. He watches all the bravado and irritation drain from your expression as he steps into your space, melting into something else, something expectant, electric. He pretends he doesn’t see it, pretends that his blood doesn’t pick up at the sight of it, and whispers the passcode to the apartment, so close to your ear that he could bite it. Could.
He pulls back and listens to your shuddering exhale, tilting your chin towards him. “That’s for you only. I don’t give people access to my personal space, got it?”
You nod dumbly, eyes wide and body hot as his dark eyes flicker to your lips.
“Then I guess we gott’a deal, sweetheart.”
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54prowl · 1 year
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HELLOOOO <333 for hunktober if it inspires you perhaps iwaizumi??? <33
he's concerned about the state of the uhh....
anyway he takes you shopping on his next day off :D
inspired by x x
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hunktober 2022 (open all month long!)
comms are open! ⁽ᵇˡᵒʳᵇᵒˢ ᵍᵃˡᵒʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶜʳᵃᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵍᵒᵒᵈˢ⁾
tip jar
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bastardblvd · 10 months
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sending this to our own blog bc i wanted to say..........thank u stepdaddy merc for making this blog so fun and putting in so much work for all the events u do. we love u
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cassie i love u so much,,
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maliciouslove · 11 months
Text
𝔼𝕏𝕋ℝ𝔸ℂ𝕌ℝℝ𝕀ℂ𝕌𝕃𝔸ℝ 𝔸ℂ𝕋𝕀𝕍𝕀𝕋𝕀𝔼𝕊
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NSFW—college AU, aged up characters (21+) || minors, ageless and/or empty blogs DO NOT INTERACT!
pairing // itadori yuuji x professor!reader 
summary // you’re having a particularly rough week and your student yuuji’s childish and nonchalant behaviour towards his failing grades and missing assignments is simply the last straw, forcing you to snap and teach the brat a lesson. for some extra credit, of course. :)
word count // 5.1k
tags // power imbalance, mean dom!reader, sub!yuuji, dubcon (tagging non-con just in case), forced masturbation (m!receiving), blackmail, recorded masturbation (m!receiving), cockwarming a dildo (m!receiving), little to no preparation penetration (m!receiving) sexual favours for extra credit, oral (f!receiving), dacryphilia, slight degradation, humiliation, praise, use of the title ‘professor’,  hair pulling, spit as lube, cum play, unprotected sex, creampie
AN // and the reposting continues! reading this again reminded me that i love writing submissive men. a very long time ago @/cyancherub beta read this for me, and I am still eternally grateful :) <3
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You’ve been having a very shit week so far—your car broke down on Monday and the guys at the repair shop told you it’s going to be at least three days before it’s fixed, and the price they charged for their services also didn’t help with your mood. 
Furthermore, on Tuesday you found out your health insurance claim didn’t go through, adding yet another expense that you have to worry about. Your poor wallet can’t handle all the damage it’s taking. 
You would think you could’ve gotten some peace and quiet when you got home on Wednesday, but no—you walked into your apartment only to find your new couch and all the pillows completely destroyed by your dog. Pillow filling and pieces of cloth scattered all across the living room as your dog was now laying in his bed, looking up at you innocently, as if he didn’t just destroy an extremely expensive couch. 
Thursday was no breeze either, as you started your day by spilling a venti sized caramel macchiato all over your white dress shirt. Walking into your meeting with the dean of the school covered in coffee was embarrassing enough, but when he started chewing you out for the low grade point average in your class, you were just about ready to cry. 
But you clenched your fists and bit your tongue, refusing to show weakness to anyone. It was just a bad week, it too would pass. 
There is only one day of the week left, and after that, you can indulge yourself over the weekend and take time to relax and de-stress. Only Friday left… but boy, you’re not looking forward to this Friday. Why?
Because you have to teach a class with him—Itadori Yuuji, your most annoying student. Yuuji is by no means unintelligent or incapable, no—but he is, however, an asshole. A petulant child that firmly believes he can get away with anything simply because he is handsome and charming. He is the type of guy to enter the classroom 20 minutes late and simply smile and wink at you; no apology, no explanation. Just a cocky 24-karat smile. He talks loud, voices all of his opinions, and doesn’t really care about anyone or anything. 
Now apparently he has decided to stop handing in his assignments, which in turn creates another problem for you. You could, of course, choose to ignore him and simply let him flunk, but that would mean two things: first, he would have to repeat the class, meaning you would have to see more of him, and second, it would give the dean one more reason to be angry with you and punish you for “bringing down the grade average of the entire institution”. 
So this Friday you’re planning on pulling him aside after class and having a serious discussion with him about his grades and work ethic. You have been lenient enough with him over the past few months, choosing to ignore his attitude and simply focus your attention on the students who actually wanted to be there, but that has to come to an end. What you’re less willing to admit to yourself, is that you’re very anxious about the conversation you’ll have with him. What will you say? What if he mocks you? What if he keeps that irritating everything-is-a-joke attitude? But the scariest thought of all: What if I finally snap? Maybe I should teach that little brat a lesson. 
So here you are, laying in your bed awake way past your bedtime, anxiously pondering over the events that might unfold tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day. 
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2:37 PM
The days are surely growing shorter and colder. Grey clouds are hanging heavy over your head, ready to rain down on you any moment now. There are 23 minutes left until class begins, so you grab a quick cup of coffee to go and you head on over to the classroom, mulling over what to say to Yuuji, practising different scenarios in your head. For some reason, the majority of these scenarios end up with Yuuji tied up and sobbing, spanked raw and begging for forgiveness. You shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. Trying to shake away the urge to break the strawberry-haired man. He would look so cute crying though. 
By the time class starts at 3:00 PM you’re halfway through your coffee, slightly starting to regret having more than two cups that day because it’s making you antsy. You take a final sip and greet your students, making a mental note of the fact that for once Yuuji is on time. The lesson goes smoothly, but you can’t help noticing that Yuuji never seems to be paying attention; never really even looking towards the big screen behind you where important slides containing assignment details were shown. Almost like he’s avoiding looking at you. 
Finally, class is over, the room filling with the sounds of chairs being pulled and students chatting amongst each other. You call Yuuji over, secretly glad that none of the other students are paying attention and simply rolling out of the classroom one by one. Itadori slings his backpack over his shoulder and saunters over to your desk, hands in his pockets, a certain pep in his step. 
“Whaddup, Y/N?” he grins, not a care in the world.
“It’s miss L/N to you. And I need to speak with you about your last assignment, the one you never handed in.” You don’t even look up from the pile of papers on your desk that you were busying yourself with in an attempt to remain composed. 
“Oh yeaaah, there was an assignment, wasn’t there? Oops.” His stupid smile never falters. The irritation is bubbling in your chest and it tastes bitter in your mouth; the papers in your hands crinkle under the force of your fingers. 
“Yup, there was, and it was worth 40% of your final grade. That means you are facing the possibility of failing this class, Mr. Itadori.” Your voice is cold and calculated, all traces of irritation erased—you’re all business. You are his teacher, you need to keep things professional, no room for emotions, especially emotions that will not improve the situation in any way, such as anger. 
You finally look up at the strawberry-haired boy, only to find him staring, but not at you. His brown eyes were fixated on the collar of your tight shirt, the top two buttons undone, showing off your soft skin and collarbones. The shirt itself doesn’t reveal a lot, but it’s tight, the outline of your bra quite visible up close. He swallows and looks away quickly, but not fast enough for you to not notice his quite obvious interest. 
“I’m sorry Mr. Itadori, are my breasts more interesting to you right now?” You arch an eyebrow, the irritation that was growing inside of you finally reaching your voice too. The audacity this brat has.  
“I- no... I- m’sorry” he stutters. Yuuji Itadori, Mr. Charming and Almighty, was flustered. How interesting. The scenarios your mind conjured earlier are suddenly flooding your brain again and you can’t help but wonder… could you make him even more flustered? 
“Listen here Yuuji, this is basically sexual harassment, you know. I’m trying to help you here, have a serious conversation about your situation, yet all you can do is stare at my tits. Now, what do you think I should do about this, hm?” 
He opens his mouth in an attempt to say something, to argue, to come up with some witty comeback—yet no sound comes out. After a long, uncomfortable pause he finally mumbles a barely audible m’sorry, fixating his gaze on the floor. Some sick, twisted part of you finds this adorable. The corners of your lips curve upwards just barely. 
“What exactly are you sorry for, Yuuji?” There is a teasing lilt to your voice, the use of his first name completely throwing him off guard. He looks at you with big eyes, once again unable to form a response.
“For, uh- … for always staring at you inappropriately.. a-and fantasizing.” He gulps loudly, mouth suddenly feeling all too dry. His little confession is a surprise to you, but you don’t let it show. You maintain a neutral face, studying him closely. You can see him get even more nervous under your gaze. 
“Always?” you pause, eyebrow raised quizzically. “Fantasizing?” tilting your head slightly to the side, your eyes never leave his. Your presence only grows, asserting its dominance over his. The boy that usually towers over you and always has a carefree, happy-go-lucky attitude, suddenly looks very small to you. A blush is creeping up his neck and cheeks, proof that he really is feeling flustered. 
“Huh.. so you fantasize about your teacher?” you smirk, several sinister ideas flooding your brain as you look at the boy in front of you shrink even more. “You can get in a lot of trouble for this… Mr. Itadori.” Gracefully you get out of your chair, moving to sit at the end of your desk, shortening the distance between you and your student. “If word got out, administration would have to remove you from my class—you would lose all credits you’ve obtained thus far in my class and you would have to pick a different course in order to obtain those credits again.” Your eyes travel up his body, slowly, undressing him in your mind. “That would be a lot of work, Mr. Itadori. Don’t you think?”
Not trusting his ability to speak right now, he simply nods. There is apprehension in his eyes, but also curiosity.  
“Perhaps we can work this out? Resolve our… conflict, as to avoid getting administration involved.” 
You hear the gears turning in his head, mulling over all the possibilities, mind racing and his heart pounding loudly in his chest. “Resolve… how?” 
You can barely contain yourself at how small his voice is, how unsure. The boy that usually gleamed with confidence and strides down the corridors as if he owns them is suddenly unable to look you straight in the eye. 
“Well, Mr. Itadori, I am a teacher after all. I think it would be best if I teach you a lesson about how it feels to be objectified. To be seen as nothing more than a pretty face, or hot body.” Your hand darts forward, now toying with the hem of his shirt. Yuuji is holding his breath as if the tiniest movement could drive you away. “Relax, Mr. Itadori, it’s just a lesson. You will benefit from it. Just do as I tell you and this little incident will be forgotten.” You pull him in by the collar of his t-shirt, his face now inches away from yours. A coy smile plays on your lips as you practically feast over the expression painted on his face at this moment. Surprise, desire and fear mixed all together, making his coffee-coloured eyes water slightly. But a breathy okay leaves his lips, eyes transfixed on yours as you push him backwards to sit in a chair. 
“Clothes off. Don’t talk unless I ask you a question. Understand?” 
Yuuji mutters a quick “yes,” fingers already hooking under his sweats, pulling them down as you lock the door to your classroom and make sure there is no way to peek inside the room. Lucky for you, most classes also end early on Friday, so the building is surely almost completely empty by now. 
Yuuji’s heart rate picks up with each clank of your heels against the wooden parquet as you head on over back to the desk, once again sitting on its edge, arms crossed over your chest. Here he is, strawberry hair dishevelled, chest exposed and if you look closely enough, you can see the vibrations on his skin as his heart hammers wildly against his ribcage. All he has left on were his over-the-calf white Nike socks and his banana print boxers. The outline of his dick making your mouth water, already semi-hard even though nothing has really happened so far. 
“Show me what you do when you fantasize about me. Tell me what you think about. I want to know how exactly you objectify me… how often.” Your voice is quiet but commanding, distant yet curious. It takes him a moment to gather the courage to go through with what you ask of him, but he finally palms himself over his boxers, not daring to look at you, but opening his mouth to speak. 
“I- I often imagine what you look like under your clothes. What kind of l-lingerie you wear...” his voice falters at the end, the blush creeping up his face betraying him. But quite visibly, blood isn’t rushing only to his face. His eyes are shut and eyebrows pinched together, but he keeps on talking, just like you asked him to. “I think about you masturbating… Like I do almost every night. I-I think about eating you out and I imagine how you taste, what you look like.” He is gripping his now fully erect cock under the cloth of his boxers, and the whole view is just so delicious. His little confessions go straight to your clit, desire taking you over. You take your phone out and quickly open your camera, switching to video and turning it on.
“Go on, don’t hold back.” 
He keeps his eyes shut, but his hand movements get braver. In an instant, his big calloused hand dives under his boxers to pull out his heavy cock, the elastic band of his underwear resting under his balls. He’s already leaking, a pearly bead of precum sliding down his shaft, right next to a big juicy vein. You zoom in with your camera, making sure to catch all the details. 
“I imagine how tight you’d feel when you cream around my cock.” At these words he squeezes his length harder, a tiny whimper escaping his lips and it makes your heart twist and your insides burn. You just know the stretch of his cock will be delicious. You know he’d feel so good. The thought alone has you clenching around nothing and you slide a hand under your skirt, fingers pressing over your clit as a shudder travels your spine. 
“Yeah? You wanna do all those things to me, Mr. Itadori? You want to see me naked, taste me, feel me? Tell me how much you want it.” You’re focusing the camera on his face now, capturing his face contorting in pleasure and need. Hand stroking his dick faster now, smearing the pre all across his length. He doesn’t really need to say how much he wants that as it becomes evident from the vigour in his strokes, but you want to hear him anyway. “Tell me, use your words, baby boy.” The nickname sets him off, all the moans he’d been staving off finally surfacing. 
“S’much… it’s all I can think about. Every time I come to class my mind… w-wanders, mmgh.” His chest is heaving, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he fucks his fist wishing it was you, eyes still tightly shut. “Even now… I really am imagining that you’re jacking me off… it’s so fucking h-hot.” 
It would be a lie to say that your hands weren’t itching to touch him, to make him writhe and squirm and beg. But that would have to wait. Right now, you just want to see him cum. 
“Mmm, and how do these little daydreams of yours end, hm? Wanna show me?” It takes Yuuji only a few more strokes before his orgasm washes over him, abdomen muscles tightening, hot thick cum spurting over his chest and tummy, some even landing on his chin. His breathing is erratic and his heart feels like it's trying to break a hole through his ribcage. Finally, he cracks an eye open, gaze immediately landing on the phone in your hands. 
Stopping the video and tossing the phone aside, you stride over to him and card your fingers through his hair, slightly pulling his head back to look him in the eyes. Amongst all the emotions he’s feeling, fear is the most prominent right now. His eyes are watering again, and you quiver at the sight. 
“Call it an eye for an eye. One video for me to keep in exchange for all the times you’ve stared at me, imagining how good I would actually feel. If you behave, the video stays in my possession only. So be good f’me Yuuji, yea? Can you do that?” 
He nods his head quickly, too quickly for his own liking, but he dares not to disobey. His submission pleases you so you ease your grip on his hair, deft fingers sliding down the side of his face and tracing his sharp jawline. 
"You know Mr. Itadori, we’re not quite done here yet. I still need to discuss the possibility of you failing my class. I was thinking of assigning you some extra credit work to make up for the assignment you didn’t hand in… if you’d like to stay in my class-" 
He cuts you off. “P-Please… I want to do the extra credit work. Please, I-I’ll do good, I’ll make up for my bad grades, ‘promise.” The puppy eyes he gives will simply be the death of you. You smile and rub soft circles with your thumb on his cheek. 
Straightening up,  you walk away from him heading towards your desk, fingers running through the wooden surface and landing on your briefcase. "I really, really dislike brats, you know. And I absolutely will not tolerate more mistakes like this from you, Mr. Itadori. No more attitude. No more slacking off."
There’s an edge to your voice, a coldness emanating from it, and it sends shivers down his spine. Unconsciously he swallows, tongue darting out to swipe at his bottom lip. Even for him, it’s hard to tell if he’s scared or aroused. Or maybe both. But what he is sure of is that you’re commanding all of his attention right now. He would do anything for your approval.
“To ensure you actually complete the assignment and don’t flunk out of my class, I will be monitoring your work. And you will do it right here, where I can see you.” The briefcase is now open, your hands rummaging in it, fingers wrapping around the object you’re looking for. “You’re going to use some tools to further… motivate you.” Your grin is wicked as you pull out a pink silicone dildo from your briefcase. Smiling at your student, your tongue presses itself flat against the dildo, licking a slow stripe from shaft to tip.
"You said you’ll be good, right? Promised you’ll do the extra credit… Still feeling up for the task?" You're now walking back to him and his eyes grow wider with fear. He's never done this before. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat as you sit down on his lap but to no avail. His mind is going completely blank, but his dick is acting on its own accord, becoming hard again pressed up against your ass.
“I want to do the extra credit, professor. Please?” The words are almost a whisper, the sound of his heart drowning out the sound. You chuckle and present the dildo to his lips in a silent command which he obeys, wrapping his lips around the tip of the dildo. 
"Ah, so you can obey orders, well that's a relief. Because I have a tall order coming for you." You shove the dildo all the way down his throat, tears immediately pooling in his eyes, the only noise coming from him being muffled moans and gagging. "So listen up, brat—you're going to take this dildo like a big boy and cockwarm it for me as you write your assignment right here, right now. Where I can see you." 
He can’t verbally give you an answer with the dildo shoved down his throat, so he nods, trying to hold off his gag-reflex, a single tear rolling down his cheek. 
You don’t even think about it as you lean closer, tongue darting out to collect the stray tear, the salty taste of it making you hum in delight. You remove the dildo from his mouth, a clear string of saliva connecting his lips and the pink tip of the dildo, which you simply hand to him. It’s his extra credit work after all, he should do all the work himself if he wants a good grade. 
This time you drag your chair from behind your desk and position it across Yuuji’s, giving you a perfect view of the show he’s about to put on for you. With shaky hands he positions the dildo on the chair, making sure the suction cup at the bottom is well attached. You could see him think through every move he makes, taking his laptop out, positioning everything so that he could attempt to write while he cockwarms the dildo. 
The strawberry-colour haired man takes a final unsure look at you as if seeking confirmation, but even he can’t deny the excitement he feels deep down. The primal need to please you, show you he can be a good boy too, for you and you only. Lifting one leg over his desk, he gives you a perfect view of his round ass, puckered hole already clenching in anticipation. Two of his long fingers push past his lips, tongue sloppily covering them in saliva that he plans on using as lube. Those same fingers, now covered in a layer of spit, rub soft circles over his puckered hole, lightly teasing and prodding while he gets used to the sensation. 
One finger finally pushes past his ring muscle, a wanton moan escaping his pretty lips. The sound is heavenly and you just want to hear more. To see more. Slightly parting your legs, you let your right hand travel up your thigh and toy with the hem of your lacy panties, enjoying Yuuji’s reaction. The little display you’re making for him is really fuelling him further. Not even a minute later, he’s sinking a second finger in his greedy hole, sounding more and more desperate, each moan and whimper a treasure for you. 
Spitting on the dildo again, this time nasty and unabashed, mind hazy from lust, Yuuji finally positions himself over the pink dildo, the tip resting right over his hole. One more glance in your direction and he sinks down an inch, the tip pushing past his muscle, the stretch immediately filling his eyes with more tears. But he ignores the weird feeling, ignores the pain, and simply focuses on the pleasure. The more he sinks down on the dildo, the more you toy with your pussy, panties now pushed aside to give him a better view. Fingers sliding up and down the slit, collecting your essence and smearing it all over, gentle circles with your middle finger over your clit. 
Halfway down the dildo, Yuuji opts to slide back up, and then down again, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth hanging open in pleasure. He was not expecting it to feel this good, the fullness making him slightly dizzy. One hand gently strokes over his sensitive cock, the feeling making him shiver. 
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” In response to his puzzled look you simply nod over to his laptop, reminding him that he is supposed to be writing an assignment. “Just write an essay on any topic that we’ve covered in class… or did you not retain anything from our classes because you were too busy being a pervert?” At these words, you slide two fingers inside you, knuckles deep, pumping them in and out slowly. 
After staring dumbfoundedly for a few seconds, his shaky fingers pull the laptop closer and he begins to type. It’s adorable to watch him struggle to remain concentrated on the task at hand, with the dildo filling him up perfectly and with the sounds you’re making as you fuck yourself on your fingers… poor Yuuji can barely keep it together. Even though he’s sunk all the way down on the dildo and knows he’s supposed to stay still, he can’t help the little thrusts of his hips against the silicone cock. 
Around 10 minutes has passed since Yuuji started his attempt at writing an essay, but it’s becoming more and more difficult for him to focus, not with the tip of the dildo pressing up against his prostate, making his thighs quiver and his breath hitch. He needs relief; he can’t write like this. And you know this all too well, your own desire taking over you completely, temporarily forgetting how you got in this situation in the first place. Screw it.
“P-please, professor.. I need..” 
Before he can finish his sentence you’re already on his lap, lips pressed to his in a heated, sloppy kiss. You can’t hold it in anymore; you want to feel him. His lips feel soft against yours, but his tongue feels sinister as it dances against yours. Moving his laptop to the side, you sit on top of the desk and spread your legs for Yuuji, pussy glistening with your slick and on full display for the boy. 
“An orgasm or two might put you in my good graces?” you suggest and spread your pussy lips with two fingers, watching as Yuuji practically drools over the sight. He doesn’t need to be asked twice, still impaled on the dildo he bends forward, tongue darting out to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. The taste of you drives him feral, lips latching onto your clit and sucking hard, mouth hard at work to coax more moans out of you. To taste more of you. To him, you’re truly intoxicating. As his tongue works feverishly against your folds, constant praise falls from your lips. That’s my good boy, fuck yes, right t-there. 
“Move your hips, ride that cock baby boy.” You’re so close to your own release, it’s suffocating you. A few more flicks of his tongue over your sensitive bud and you’re coming undone under him, legs shaking violently as your mind floods with overwhelming pleasure and your pussy flutters. Yuuji’s greedy mouth is ready to swallow all your slick, hungrily lapping at your cunt, the obscene squelch of his tongue against your wetness filling the room. 
Pushing him away just enough to sit back in his lap, your hands wrap around his length, pumping it languidly. His hips slow down but he doesn’t dare stop moving up and down the dildo, he doesn’t dare disobey you. Catching his lips in another kiss you guide his cock to your slit, rubbing it up and down, collecting all your arousal. Slowly you sink down on his cock, eyes rolling back at the feeling of his fat meaty cock stretching you out, your tight hole hugging him perfectly. 
And Yuuji could cum from this alone, from finally feeling your warmth and wetness around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth. You feel so much better than he could ever imagine. With you hovering over his lap enough to give him space to bounce up and down, impaling himself on the silicone cock, and simultaneously drilling upwards into your welcoming heat. The feeling is so overwhelming; his movements are sloppy, and he’s constantly babbling incoherent words, hands gripping your waist tight enough to bruise. And as you look down at him all you can think about is how gorgeous he looks all fucked out.
Your hand snakes down your body, middle finger expertly rubbing tight circles over your clit, pussy immediately clamping down even harder on his dick. A second orgasm was approaching and Yuuji can feel that, the way your walls flutter around him, how much louder you’re getting. All he has to do is hold off his orgasm for a while more. He angles his hips and pistons up into your cavern, the tip of his leaky cock ramming against your cervix in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Right there is all you can repeat, teetering on the edge of your second orgasm, a few good strokes being the last push you need before you stumble over and drown in the pleasure once more. Yuuji follows right after, sinking all the way down on the dildo and pushing you down his length to completely bottom out inside you as he empties his balls, thick cum spurting right against your cervix. You can feel how full of cum you are, the thick sticky substance dribbling down your thigh. 
After a few moments of silence, the two of you just staying close and trying to catch your breath, you finally speak. 
“You know, you will actually have to write at least one essay for me for that extra credit, consider this just your… motivation to actually get it done. At the end of the day, I’d rather you not fail, Yuuji.” 
You did it again, you used his first name. The softness to your voice makes his heart twist, and he knows he has to live up to the promise he made. 
“And this stays between us.” 
You didn’t really need to tell him that, he knows how badly things could turn out if anyone found out, but he gives you his word. He doesn’t dare say anything else out of fear that anything he says might ruin the magic. One wrong move could sully this moment forever, and this is a memory he’ll cherish for a long time. So he tucks his flaccid cock in his boxers and puts on his clothes, gathering his things and heading for the door. He pauses for a second and turns around for one last look. 
“Miss L/N.. uhm, thank you for giving me an opportunity for that extra credit. And uh, I don’t mean the sex. The actual extra credit. I know I can be difficult, so I appreciate this a lot.” 
You smile and wave him off, telling him there’s nothing to be thankful for. You remind him to hand in his essay before the following Friday and you say your goodbyes. 
There’s a slight empty feeling budding inside you, missing the attention of the younger boy, but ultimately you realize you had completely forgotten about the stress of the week; and there was an undeniable pep in Yuuji’s step as he made his way home that night... Today was truly a good day, for both of you. 
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𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.
all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.
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kingdaddydaichi · 2 years
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{ banner art sauce }
| title: the devil's bride
| pairing: r. sukuna x f!reader
| wc: 5.4k
| cw/an: nsfw, mdni, hard!Dom/sub dynamic, Master/slave dynamic, dubcon/cnc, monster fucking, fear, mindfuckery, oral sex (m/f receiving), blood/dark content, degradation/praise, punishment, throat/face fucking, nicknames/titles used: "pet"/"angel"/"Master"/"Lord", mocking, forced marriage, bondage, hair pulling, cumflation, black semen, (black) creampie, squirting, ass play, breeding
| soundtrack: nomads - the weeknd (sunny marx remix)
| tagging: @cyancherub @kagejima @raggedyannazon @victoriacapo @yuujispinkhair & any of my other fellow sukuna fuckers
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By reading beyond this point, you agree that you are 18+ and acknowledge that you are about to consume adult/dark content.
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You’d long been obsessed with the king of curses. You’d chanted his name innumerable times, performing little rituals and seances to invoke his spirit. All in service to the king. Your king. It had been a thousand years since he'd been defeated and sealed away. You never dreamed that he’d come back.
Little did you know, one night a young high schooler named Yuuji Itadori swallowed the first of Sukuna’s twenty fingers. Power had been choked back into the shaman-turned-demon like breath into the lungs of someone who’d nearly drowned.
The beastly king had returned, full of vigor and rage and hunger. But he hadn’t long been able to play when that Yuuji brat had stuffed him back down, settling him down somewhere deep inside his bones.
A couple of days passed and he was finally able to spread his proverbial wings when the pink-haired brat succumbed to his power - begged him even - to save his own life as well as that of his friends. By the end of the night, the king of curses had regained some of his tremendous power. However, ultimately, he was once again silenced, subdued.
All he could do was stew and simmer. Until he was reminded of something. Of you.
Ignorant to his revival, you held another seance. He could take it or leave it, but decided to play along out of sheer curiosity and boredom.
Driven by the moist heat in your loins, you beckoned him just as you’d done so many times before.
This time, he answered.
“I can smell you, mortal woman.”
You jumped back. How many times had you done this, never once expecting a response? You scrambled until your back was flush against the side of your bed, mind hurtling through the various possibilities, limited as they were. You had almost convinced yourself that it was your own imagination - or was it wishful thinking? - that Lord Sukuna was speaking to you.
“Your scent is…” He took a deep, long whiff. “...divine.” His taunting laughter settled into your core. “Hmm…how many times have you beckoned me? Hm? How often have you willed that I mount you and fuck you raw, human?”
You shuddered as a chill traveled down your spine. You pulled your knees to your chest, daring not to speak. 
“Oh, come now. Don’t be shy.” His sardonic chuckle crept into your bones. “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? To have your sweet little cunt spread around my cock? Hm?” His laughter ricocheted off the walls of your bedroom. He was in every corner and crevice of the space surrounding you, tapping and scratching his long, black fingernails against your psyche. 
You didn’t move.
He clicked his tongue and sighed. “I suppose it’s just as well. Perhaps I’ll answer one of the countless other moans of my name…”
“Wait!” you jolted. “I want it. I…want you.” He was right. You’d wanted this all along and this was a once in a hundred lifetimes opportunity. Just one brief jaunt with him wouldn’t hurt too bad, would it? “But how?”
“It’s easy. Just relax…” He hummed. “Yes, that’s it. Now…give yourself over to me, pet.”
The walls of your room fell away as darkness consumed them. You found yourself standing in an ankle-deep pool of blood that surrounded you as far as your straining eyes could see. Heart pounding, you began to panic, checking every part of your body for injuries. 
“Calm down, pet. That’s the blood of my enemies; you are unharmed…for now.” That familiar insidious chuckle encompassed you again, closer this time.
Your clothes were gone, replaced by a sheer white camisole gown that ended just below your hips. You looked around for him, gingerly turning your head from side to side, afraid to make any sudden moves. You’d researched Ryoumen Sukuna extensively; you knew what he was capable of. 
“W-where are you?” you hazarded, your voice small and shaky. 
Ominous red clouds swirled above you, casting their own dim light causing your white gown to glow deep pink. The space around you seemed to breathe on its own and you heard Sukuna’s voice from directly behind you. 
“Careful. You’re in my domain now, mortal. Do not presume to speak to me unless spoken to.”
You turned to find him towering above you, reclined high atop a mound of bull skulls and bones. A faint blue glow emanated from somewhere behind him, casting eerie shadows across his devilishly handsome features. You recognized the distinct markings on his face, even from such a distance.
He looked down his nose at you and licked his sinful lips. With his legs crossed and his jaw propped on his fist, he lifted his other hand from his knee and curled his finger, bidding you to move closer to him. 
“Come, pet. Let me get a better look at you.”
You waded your bare feet through the shallow, bloody lake, stopping to kneel at the base of his throne, waiting for his permission to speak to him. 
He hummed. “What a precious, well-behaved pet you are! So pliant and eager to follow my commands. Hm? I might just decide to keep you.”
You could feel his scarlet eyes on you, coveting your sexy, feminine form - every curve and basin and fatty deposit it had to offer him. His hungry gaze settled on your visible breasts, his heavy cock stirring as he watched the flesh of your nipples darken and pebble into cute little buds ripe for the sucking. 
“Look at me, pet.”
You obeyed and right away you were taken by his raw, animal sexuality and a tempest began to rage in your loins. All four of his eyes were trained on you, his pinky and ring fingers pressing against his bared teeth as he grinned down at you. 
Your focus drifted to where he’d begun wringing the head of his growing cock through the cloth of his white kimono. Your walls clenched, sending a delicious ache deep into your lower belly. Feeling your warm cream coat your inner thighs, you squeezed them together with a quiet, pitiful whimper. 
“What is it, angel?” His voice had grown deeper along with his arousal. 
“Wanna suck your cock, Master.” 
His toothy grin widened at the title you’d so willingly given him as a dark, guttural chuckle rumbled in his chest. 
“Well, then…” He let his legs fall open. “…come to kneel at my feet.” 
You eagerly did as you were told, stumbling a couple of times on the skulls beneath your feet. You’d almost reached his knee when you lost your footing and slid halfway down again, collecting nicks and scratches from the sharp edges of bones and bull horns along the way. 
He could’ve easily grabbed you, but sensing how badly you wanted him, he chose not to. Watching you work so hard for him was infinitely more interesting. He instead tilted his head at you and frowned. 
“Oh no. You poor thing,” he mocked. Once again he curled a sharp, black fingernail at you. “Ganbare, ganbare…try again, angel. Or maybe you don’t want it badly enough?” 
Keeping your head down to avoid his intoxicating gaze, you said, “I do want it, Master. Every inch.” 
“Yeah? Show me how much you want it then, pet,” he said, untying his obi. 
With tiny trails of blood snaking down your arms and legs, you began working your way up the pile of bones again. You noticed the large tent that had formed beneath his kimono, which had fallen open just enough to expose the tattoos on his broad, bare chest. As if you needed any more motivation. 
When you finally made it to his feet, you knelt once more, keeping your head bowed to your Master. He was so close you could smell him. 
Sukuna shifted a little, but otherwise intended to let you do all the work. “Take my cock out, angel.” 
Your hand traveled up the inside of his naked thigh, further up beneath his garb of silken ivory until you felt the rough texture of his pubic hair. Your small fingers found purchase around the wide base of his cock, growing harder still under your divine touch. Even before laying eyes on it, you could appreciate the size of his blood-engorged member. You were impressed, but not at all surprised. Big dick energy oozed from every pore of his ink adorned skin. 
With him firmly inside your grasp you gently pushed his robe out of the way as you pulled his cock out. The sight of it alone sent another gush of slick down between your naked legs. Two thick black lines encircled his girth and all you could think about was how nicely they would contrast with the pearly white rings you were bound to leave on top of them. You started bringing your mouth to his cockhead when he stopped you with a thumb to your chin - the first time he’d touched you. 
“Ah ah ahhh! Did I give you permission to taste my cock, pretty angel?”
“No, Master. Please forgive me. It just looks so good.”
You stroked him nice and slow, his shaft like hot steel under the soft, velvety skin of his length. You watched, mouth watering as the thick veins rolled under your fingers.
He moaned. “Of course I forgive you, my sweet pet. There will be a small punishment, but nothing you can’t handle.” He raked his long fingernails against your scalp as he pushed your hair over to one side. Your eyes fluttered closed at the titillating sensation as his cock twitched in your hand. “Go ahead, pet. Taste me.”
You inched forward on your knees, resting your free hand on the curved musculature of his right thigh as you kitten-licked the dark pink tip of his cock.
Sukuna hissed. “Don’t be a fucking prick-tease. I wanna see you wrap those pretty lips around my cockhead like you fucking mean it.”
You fulfilled your lord’s wishes and stretched your wet lips all the way around him, sinking down as far as you could before choking and coming up for air.
“That’s better, pet. Again.”
You swirled your tongue around his salty tip before sinking down his length as far as you could go before hollowing your cheeks and slurping your way back up.
“Mmmfuck, yes angel. Keep sucking my cock just like that,” he groaned.
So you did. You sucked and gagged on him, your saliva bathing the full length of his throbbing cock. To say it had been a while for him would’ve been a tragic understatement. He watched and admired you as you bobbed up and down, his full balls drawing closer to his body with every passing minute.
Sukuna, you quickly learned, was a very vocal lover. He moaned and hissed his praises as you gobbled his cock down without a single care.
“Mmhmm…” He sucked air between his clenched teeth. “Keep going just like that, pet. Get -mm- get ready to -fuck!- take my cum down your throat.”
His hands were in your hair, holding your head to keep you from escaping as he began fucking himself into your throat. He pressed his spasming balls against your chin. You couldn’t breathe. You choked and gagged and tried to scream, but the vibrations only drove him harder to his end as he emptied himself inside your raw gullet. Your hands urgently tapped his thighs, but your rhythmic gags only fueled his orgasm.
Only once he’d spent himself did he start to pull out of your throat. You choked and spat until you opened your eyes to see what could only be described as thick black sludge oozing down your fingers and Sukuna’s cock.
You pulled off of him in a panic, choking on his semen as you breathed it in, chest heaving as you gasped for air.
“What’s the matter, angel? Does my black jizz frighten you?” What began as a low rumble in your master’s chest quickly erupted from his open mouth as laughter. “What the fuck did you expect?” He pulled your head back by your hair and brought his mouth to your ear. “I’m a fucking demon.”
You were still trying to catch your breath when the tables suddenly turned.
With your back on the seat of your master’s throne, he splayed your legs open, staring shamelessly at the glistening insides of your trembling thighs. 
“Look at the mess you’ve made between your thighs, pet. This all for me, pretty baby?”
You arched your back, willing him to taste you. “Y-yes, M-master.”
He watched as your tight pussy hole opened and closed around nothing, sending another wave of your juices flowing down between your crack to coat your puckering asshole.
“Now this…” he put one of his knees down, then the other. “...This I’ve been dying to taste all night.” His long tongue darted out of his mouth as he dipped his head down and began to lap and suck at the soft flesh between your legs. “Mmm so fucking delicious. It’s been too long since I’ve tasted a woman’s arousal.” He switched and licked a long, languid line along your other inner thigh. “God! Even longer since I’ve tasted one as good as yours, angel.” He sucked and slurped, collecting every last drop of your essence from your thighs, leaving little bruises on your skin as he went.
Once he’d licked your inner thighs clean, he went right for the source.
His big, strong hands pushed your thighs further apart. He flattened his wide tongue over your sex and dragged it from your winking hole upwards along your plump pussy lips. Your breathy moan was replaced by a sharp gasp when he flicked the pointed tip of his tongue over your erect clit. Without thinking, your hands flew to his hair. He stopped moving and pulled his tongue back into his mouth. Oh shit. 
Only his eyes moved, rolling up to look at you. “Did I say you could fucking touch me?”
With your eyes wide open, you covered your mouth with both hands and shook your head. 
“You’re in a rather compromising position to be misbehaving, wouldn’t you agree?”
You slowly pulled your hands away from your face, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You knew you were pushing his patience, something much of which he didn’t particularly have to begin with. “Yes, M-Master. I wasn’t thinking. Please? Give me another chance?”
His cheek kissed his teeth. “I’ll give you one more chance, pet. Misbehave again and I will punish you. Do you understand me?” The heat of every word fanned over your dripping cunt. 
You nodded frantically. “Y-yes! Of course, Master!”
A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You’re lucky you’re so cute. Besides, this pussy of yours is a fucking delicacy and I intend to devour it.”
And devour it he did. He alternated between prodding your hole with his slithering tongue and sucking your soul from your clit. Carding your fingers into your own hair, your thighs trembling, you rocked your hips as he wore you down. He growled, the vibration sending yet another thread of pleasure coursing through your body. His fingers began to play at your entrance making you tense up at the thought of those sharp fingernails. But interrupting or questioning him would be even more dangerous, so you kept your mouth shut. 
“Relax, angel. I know what I’m doing,” your host murmured, his lips moving against you.
Sure enough, he slipped two fingers inside you without so much as a pinch. He watched your eyelids flutter closed, a self-satisfied grin creeping across his face. He carefully massaged that unmistakable ribbed pad of flesh less than a finger-length inside you. 
“Oh god!” you cried. 
“Yes, angel?”
“Fuck, feels so good.”
With a low chuckle he latched onto your clit again, sucking it loudly as his fingers began to tug on your g-spot. 
Your back arched, leaving nothing but space between your shoulder blades and ass. Sukuna slurped away at your messy cunt, a mixture of your slick and his saliva dripping from his chin and landing between his knees. 
Your legs began to shake uncontrollably and he knew. He tugged harder at your sweet spot while flicking his tongue over your clit at an inhuman speed. 
“Mm! Oh fuck! Fuck, M-Master Sukuna, please!”
He groaned at the way your clenching pussy sucked on his fingers as your juices filled the huge palm of his hand and spilled over the sides. Your breasts heaved in the air as your pounding heart rattled your rib cage. 
He withdrew his fingers and stood up, shirking his kimono off his shoulders before it fell into a heap at his feet. 
“Well, well. Isn’t that just a picture perfect sight? You haven’t even had my cock yet and you’re already too weak to move.”
He leaned over your trembling form, digging his nails into the fabric of your camisole. With one swift jerk of his hands he ripped it apart, sending pieces of the thin material fluttering around you like papier-mâché.
He opened his mouth wide around your jugular to feel it pulse against his tongue. His heavy cock thumped against your clit as his sharp canines scraped along the length of your neck, not enough to break the skin, but enough to leave matching trails of red welts in their wake.
“That’s too bad, angel, because I’m nowhere near finished with you yet,” he growled.
You whimpered beneath him when the soft texture of his tongue dragged between your breasts. He licked the sweat from your cleavage before sucking one of your budded nipples into his mouth. You obliged him, jutting your tit deeper into his hot, wet cavern. He pulled away, a string of spit bridging the gap between your nipple and his bottom lip, before lapping just as hungrily at the other one. 
He was still licking his chops when he scooped up your limp body and sat back down on his throne. His cock had grown impossibly hard again, his hips already beginning to roll of their own accord as he situated you on top of him. 
You straddled his bare thighs, two thick black bands underneath each ass cheek. You’d come back to your senses enough to know what was to come, but you were having a bit of trouble balancing yourself on top of him. You began to lean but he caught you. 
“Tsk. You look so adorably pathetic right now, pet. Tell you what. Since you can’t seem to even sit on your own, I’ll let you use me as leverage. Come on, put your hands on me.”
You leaned forward and placed your palms flat down on the sculpted plane of his stomach.
“Thank you, Master. So gracious of you.”
“Don’t mention it. It’s for my benefit, not yours. You’re here to pleasure me. Lucky for you, feeling your cute little cunt squeeze and suck on my fingers and cock gives me immense pleasure.”
He grabbed an ass cheek in each hand and yanked you along his thighs until his leaking cock was sandwiched between your slippery pussy lips and his lower abdomen. You cried out at the sudden stimulation to your still-twitching clit. But the rough texture of the underside of your Lord’s thick shaft proved heavenly and you began rocking your hips.
You leaned forward to rest your head on his chest as you worked yourself into a frenzy, riding your Master like a steed. You were whining, nearly sobbing, begging him to fill you up.
“Listen to that sweet, precious sound. Like music to my fucking ears. Mmm…such a good fucking girl, yeah? You deserve to beg for my fat cock. You want it, sweetheart?”
“God, please yes! Need your cock, Master!” You squirmed on his lap, chanting a string of pitiful pleas.
“How can I say no to such a needy whore?”
He lifted you up by your ass while his other hand reached around to guide his huge, drooling mushroom tip to your aching cunt hole. You shuddered against him as he began to push inside you. He let you lower yourself down onto him slowly, the rim of your tight hole twitching and burning as it stretched around his monstrous girth.
Broken whimpers of his name fell from your lips all the way down; at the same time, his mouth fell open as a long groan of relief escaped him.
It had been over a thousand years since he’d buried his cock inside the tight warmth of a soft pussy. In all honesty yours had been well worth the wait, but feeling you swallow him whole stirred the feral beast within from his slumber.
He picked you up by your ass until only the tip remained inside, your flesh dimpling under his fingertips. Without warning he brutally slammed you back down, impaling you on his angry cock.
You screamed, clawing at his chest as you threw your head back in agony. He repeated the process, picking up his pace with every thrust of his hips against your reddening bottom.
“M-master! It hahhh! It hurts!” you wailed. “Too big! No! Please stop, you’re hurting me!”
The plump veins running the length of his cock dragged against your succulent walls, rolling under his skin as he pumped himself in and out of your pussy with force. There was his derisive laughter again.
“Such an ungrateful fucking pet!” He huffed and puffed as he spoke, still spearing you on his throbbing cock. “You beg me to fuck you so I fuck you! Now you’re begging me to stop! Like hell! You’re my plaything now. As of tonight, you're the devil’s bride and I’m going to fuck you until that weeping pussy of yours knows only my shape, my size! You’ll never be able to cum on another cock after I’m done with you, angel! Only mine!” he hissed.
He dug his fingertips deeper into the plush of your ass, his nails beginning to puncture your sensitive skin. Small trails of blood trickled down as Sukuna’s hard, slick-coated thighs slapped against your cheeks. 
“God please! No! Stop! I never said I wanted that!” you cried, trying to claw at his face but he caught your wrists. He easily bound them with one hand, keeping a painfully firm grip on your butt with the other. 
“Guess you should’ve done your fucking homework, angel. The second I penetrated you, you were claimed!” 
But you had done your homework. You knew everything there was to know about Ryoumen Sukuna - the man, the shaman, the curse. Your mind reeled, thoughts racing, poring through the bits of data you’d collected about him over the years. Nothing you’d ever stumbled upon ever mentioned this. Or…was this how the binding contract worked when he took a mate in his domain? Fuckfuckfuck!
“You got yourself into this, pretty angel. Now you’re going to suffer the consequences!” He grunted every word in time with his powerful thrusts. 
Your sobs turned to whimpers as the pain gave way to pleasure. Deep down, this was what you ultimately desired. Your dreams were coming true. Or would it prove to be a nightmare?
You were snapped out of your thoughts when your host pressed the pad of his middle finger against your tiny asshole. Clenching harder around his cock from the stimulation, you stopped resisting him. You’d never been so wet in your life, your pussy making lewd squishing sounds as he pounded up into you. The unrelenting pleasure courtesy of Sukuna began to pool into a point of singularity deep inside your womb.
“Fuck, angel! Your little cunt is sucking on my cock so hard. You gonna cum for me? Hm? Gonna cum all over your Master’s loins?”
“Y-yes-s M-Mas-s-ter!” You were fucking him back now, bouncing up and down on him, your fingernails digging into his chest, holding on for dear life as he owned your pussy. With every wet clap of your plush ass against his thighs, you threw it back on him in hot pursuit of your release.
“Shit, that’s it, pet! Cum for your Master!” 
When he poked his fingertip into your little asshole you came apart around him, squirting your cum all over his abdomen and chest. 
“Yes, that’s it! Bathe me in your juices, pet!” Closing his eyes, Sukuna leaned back, grinning from ear to ear like he’d just been sprayed with cool, refreshing water on a hot summer day.
You chased your orgasm all the way to its end and your whole body went limp and collapsed on top of Sukuna. 
He rolled his eyes. “Tsk. There you go again, tapping out on me like the hopeless lightweight you are.” He chuckled as he gathered you up and positioned you on your back. “No matter. I’ll just use your body as my live sex doll, hm? Yes, such a submissive little cocksleeve.”
He positioned himself between your open legs, droplets of your slick still trickling down the hills and valleys of his delectable abs. You opened your eyes just in time to see him push his thick cockhead back inside you with a soft pop. 
You cried out, thighs clamping around his hips as they began to move. Fucking hell, he really was the perfect shape and size. If his was to be the only cock you’d have for the rest of your life, such as it was, you were grateful that it was also the very best. 
Sukuna pried your thighs away from him and pushed them open until your knees were out beside you. “Keep those sexy fucking legs open for me, pet! I’m gonna destroy that sweet fucking pussy!”
He slammed into you so hard it took your breath away. 
“Fuck! Master! That hurts!” you whined. “Please don’t, please!”
“Shut up!” he growled. “Didn’t I tell you there was going to be a punishment?”
“What did I do wrong, Master?” you cried, tits bouncing in time with his violent thrusts. “I thought you were giving me another chance!”
A maniacal smile was accompanied by a wilder than usual look in his eyes. “I changed my fucking mind!”
Sukuna laughed as horror shone in your watery eyes. He leaned over you and pounded into you like a wild animal.
“No! Nononono! Stop! Please don’t do this!”
He responded by plowing his beast of a cock into you even harder. “Thought I told you to shut up, pet!” He reached for his discarded scarf and gagged you with it, tying it behind your head. 
“Now listen! The sorcerers - they’re going to try to kill me. That’s not gonna happen, but just in case, I’m going to take out a little insurance policy.”
Your tear-filled eyes looked up at him with a combination of fear and confusion. 
“Or, more accurately, a whole litter of them.”
Litter?
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your cheek. “I know you’re fertile right now, angel. I could smell it from miles away. I’m going to breed you, hm? Pump that cunt of yours full of my black demon seed!”
As more laughter erupted from him, you shook your head frantically. Your pleas were little more than mumbles through his scarf. 
Sukuna started to move inside you again, bullying your sore cunt with his huge cock. You tried to push him off you, but that was futile. So you started swinging and clawing at whatever you could reach, but he was able to block or dodge every punch you threw.
“Ooh feisty! I like it!” he mocked, his ass and thighs flexing as he mercilessly fucked his cock into you with all his strength.
Screaming into your gag, you began squirming and kicking his legs, distracting him enough from your hands that you were finally able to drag your nails across the side of his face.
“Okay, now you’re just being annoying!”
He grabbed a long scrap of your camisole and wrapped it around your wrists, binding them together before manhandling your thighs back open. Gripping the backs of your thighs, he pushed your knees back towards your ears.
“Why don’t you just let go of your pride already, angel? Who do you think you’re fooling? Me? Hah? After all the nights you laid like this in your own bed, on your back with your legs spread wide, screaming my name while bullying your own pussy with the biggest fucking dildo you could handle?! The only one you’re fooling here is yourself! Just stop fighting it! I’m driving my fat cock deep into your slippery cunt just like you’ve always wanted! Now take it! Let me fuck you until you can’t fucking walk! Scream my name like I’ve heard you do so many times before!”
You reached up with your bound hands, grabbed two fistsful of his powder pink hair, and began tugging and yanking with all your might. 
He moaned. “That’s just gonna make me cum faster, pet!” He quickly pulled the gag out of your mouth. “Scream my fucking name, human! Sukuna! Say it!”
Fuck him for making your pussy clench around his delicious cock again. You were still crying, but he was right. You’d been trying to fight the pleasure that he’d been pushing into you like tidal waves. “SUKUNA!”
“Oh fuck, that’s it baby girl! Again!” 
You were pumping your hips up to meet his thrusts now, tears streaming across your temples, pussy tightening into a vice-like grip around his pistoning cock. “SUKUNAAAA!”
“Ahh so fucking sweet!” He looked down to where he was plowing his cock into you. “Look at these beautiful creamy rings you’ve made on my dick.”
You raised your head up to see. You were right. His black tattoos did contrast nicely with your white pussy cream. You watched his cock glide in and out of you as even more of your essence collected under the thick head.
Your head fell back again when your pussy began to convulse around his veiny girth. “Oh god! Sukuna?! You’re gonna make me cum again!”
“Fuck yeah, good girl! I want that cunt pulsing when I fill you with my jizz!”
With one final scream of his name, you came hard, milking Sukuna’s cock of his seed. 
“Shit, that’s it! So perfect! Gonna fucking cum so hard and watch your belly grow plump with my spawn!”
He grunted and slammed his cock into you, making sure to get deep enough so his cockhead peeked through the opening of your cervix.
“Fuck!” he growled, his cock jerking as it released long ropes of his thick, black cum, spilling the contents of his tightened balls into your womb. He unloaded so much into you that your lower tummy began to swell, your womb stretching to accommodate all his semen.
Panting, your king kept you pressed beneath him, resting your ankles on the sinew of his inked shoulder. He wanted to ensure that as much of his sperm as possible would take hold and seed you.
After a few minutes he finally dismounted you, pulling his softening-but-still-very-thick cock out with an audible gush of his dark, hot cum.
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~ epilogue ~
He rolled over and collapsed next to you. “Give me a few minutes to rest and I’ll show you to your cage, pet.”
“Cage?” you asked incredulously. “I thought we’re, like, married now or something?”
“We basically are, but as long as you’re still trying to claw my eyes out while I’m fucking you, you’re not fucking sleeping with me!”
“You were hurting me, Sukuna!”
“Oh and clawing someone’s face off doesn’t hurt?!”
“Can you just try being a little gentler? Maybe ease me into this?”
He turned his head to face you and scoffed. “Ease you into this? Have you even met me?”
“Can’t you make an exception or two for the fucking mother of your children?”
“Fucking relax, angel! I’m gonna take real good care of you. Trust me.”
“Says the arguably least trustworthy guy ever?”
“What?! I’m letting you call me by my name! I’m not even mad that you’re speaking so freely to me! Rather flippantly too, I might add!”
“You’re impossible.”
"Come on, let's go. I'm taking you to your cage."
"Such a gentleman..."
And just like that, it was like you’d been married for half a century. 
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