I'm Given Every Single Hotd Fanfic Writers 48 Hours To Write Sub!Aemond Targaryen With Heavy Mommy Issues

I want you to myself

I want you to myself

I want you to myself

I want you to myself

I want you to myself

I̴̦̊͆ ̷̨̙̤̜̰̖͗͊͑̈͒w̴̧͈͍̹͈͇̤͊̄̀͊̉å̵̧̜̺̭̑͂̃̒́͠n̷̜̪͍̝̈͐̍͑͛̓̌t̴̛̰͋̃̈́̓̍̃ ̷̳͖̯͕̃y̸͇̝̞̺̝͔͛͊̓̓͜͝o̸̡̟͙̥̹̱̜̅́́u̴̧̱͈̯̜̟̔̌̈́͂̅ ̷̢̭̟̘̗̄͝͝ț̴͊́̋ö̶̩̿͋̓̓̿̀ ̴̛͇̫̑̃m̵̹̀̃̐̅͠ÿ̴̟͈̠͈͍͍̪́͛̚s̵̮̩̰͖̲͓͎͗̍̚͝è̸͙̈́͝l̵͈͉̿̍͘f̷͓̟̪͍͗̉͆͆̕ ̷̮͈̈́̌

wait why is my pussy so wet? he only said he was proud of- ohhhh

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are nonbinary

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Dark star★🫶🏻

late night thoughts ft. haitani brothers & sanzu h. (bimbo edition!)

haitani brothers x fem!reader x sanzu haruchiyo

warnings: fem!reader, poly, bimbo!reader, kanto manji!bonten trio, possessive behavior + jealousy, lowkey manipulation and gaslighting, manhandling, exhibitionism, cockwarming, facefucking, degradation, hair pulling, mirror sex (ish), thigh riding, voyeurism (?), slight humiliation, masturbation (m)--all characters 18+ ofc

wordcount: 3.5k

They all knew better. As much as the men of Kanto Manji loved to leer, imaginations going wild as you passed through the base in short skirts and low-cut shirts, they all knew better than to act on any of the carnal impulses that stir on your arrival at base. They knew who you belonged to--and the last one that had tried their hand at you was still comatose in the hospital.

But you were just… so fucking dumb, and you were oblivious to how possessive your three boyfriends were >:( Those poor men tried so hard to steer clear of you, they tried so fucking hard to hide how wound up they got whenever you were around but you were just clueless--bounding right toward the first person that made eye contact with you like a happy puppy, thinking that all they wanted to do was talk but were too nervous to approach you.

And these poor, poor men because what were they supposed to do? They know damn fucking well that talking to you would end up with them inevitably getting beaten half to death by Haitani Ran’s baton because how dare they think themselves good enough to talk to his girl, but walking away from you and making you upset would draw Sanzu Haruchiyo’s ire because how dare they upset his pretty little princess. It really was a lose-lose situation, and all they could do was hope and pray that they weren’t the unfortunate soul you decided to approach.

“And it was just so sad, you know?” pouting, you leaned in close to the man you were talking to, unaware of the concerned looks being sent his way by some of the others in the room, unaware of the growing horror pooling in the man’s gut as you blissfully chatted on about how you saw a dead animal on the side of the road on the way here. “Like, who would just leave it there, right? At least bury it somewhere, I-”

“What’s going on here?”

Ignorant to the way the man you had been talking to stiffened like a board, you spun around, delighted at the sight of not one, but both of the Haitani brothers standing behind you. Giggling, you threw your arms around Rindou, who was closest, burying your face into the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around your waist, easily lifting you up off the floor.

“Rin!” you said gleefully, legs tightening around his waist, skirt riding up dangerously causing all of the other men in the room to avert their eyes--well, except the poor guy who you had been talking to, right in front of you and far too close to move his gaze before catching an eyeful. Ran cocked his head to the side, an unkind smile tugging at his lips as considered the man.

“Pretty girl,” Ran complained, voice teasing but sharp gaze never leaving the other man, “am I chopped liver?”

“No, no,” you said, making no move to detach yourself from Rindou as he shared a look with his brother over your shoulder, “‘m sorry, Ran.”

“I’m sure you are, pretty,” Ran murmured and you giggled, lifting your head from Rindou’s neck to prop your chin up on his shoulder, Ran shifted, standing behind his brother so he could lean down and give you a brief kiss on the lips, “You go with Rindou, I’ll meet up with you guys in a minute.”

Pouting as he pulled away, you looked up at him, “Why aren’t you coming with us?” you asked, oblivious to the dark look in his eyes as he smiled at you and patted your head.

“Just got a lil something to take care of, doll, promise I’ll be right there,” you nodded, tilting your head up as you beckoned Ran to lean down for one more kiss.

He did as you wanted, of course, Haitani Ran was good at a lot of things--denying you anything was most certainly not one of them.

On the topic of being spoiled--god is Sanzu the biggest offender and he sees absolutely no wrong with it because of course his pretty princess should be given everything she wants >:(

Sanzu Haruchiyo has you sitting pretty on his lap every time he gets the chance, fingers dancing along your sides, lips gliding across your bare neck, cock filling you up--and no one dares whisper or even look twice when they see you trembling on his lap in the middle of base, face hidden in his neck, arms shaking around his shoulders, skirt hiked up suspiciously high because they know the Kanto Manji vice president had a temper that was especially short when it came to you.

But Sanzu Haruchiyo could also be mean, having you cockwarm him for hours on end, refusing to let you get yourself off because you were so, so pretty dumb and crying on his cock, begging him to please just move because you’ve been so good for him, haven’t you?

“Haru,” your voice was so soft and weak in his ear and it was like music to him, really. He already knew what you were going to ask, and his scars twitched up in amusement as he pressed his lips against your marked up neck again, reveling in how your body shuddered underneath his touch, “Haru, will you please let me cum?”

And it was so tempting, it really was, cause your cunt hugged him so fuckin’ tight, you were dripping onto his white pants and he wanted to do nothing more than bend you over the meeting table and fuck you right in front of all of the other Kanto Manji higher ups. But he wouldn’t because he knew that Hanma Shuji and Madarame Shion had their eyes on you too often already and there was no way he was going to give them more ammunition by letting them hear how pretty you sounded cumming for him.

“Haru, been good, been so long,” he could feel your nails clawing at the back of his jacket, could feel your tears and makeup staining the skin of his neck but all he did was smooth a hand over your back, rubbing soothing circles over your skin, “Please, Haru, please, please please-”

You tried to rock your hips against his, he grimaced, jaw clenching and hands flying to your waist to keep you still. A hiss of breath escaped his lips as he felt your walls flutter around him, squeezing him so tight it nearly had his eyes rolling back. Next to him, he threw Ran a filthy glare as the older Haitani snorted. You knew better than to push the limits with him or Rindou--the two of them had put you in your place more than once, but Sanzu just didn’t have the same sort of self-control that they had when it came to you and knowingly or not, you took advantage of that.

But he was not going to let Hanma Shuji or Madarame Shion have the pleasure of watching and listening to you cum around his cock.

His grip tightened around your waist to the point he was sure it must’ve been bruising your skin but instead of stilling, which he knew you knew he wanted you to do--you weren’t that stupid--you tried to move again. Temper and restraint peaking, he leaned forward, lips brushing your ear, “Keep fuckin’ testing me, princess, I won’t let you cum for a week.”

And fuck, as much as he loved the silly, dazed grin on your face when he gave you everything you wanted--he couldn’t hold back the slow smirk that crawled onto his face when noticed the genuine nervousness that spread across your expression at his words.

Cute, he noted, brushing your hair out of your face, wiping away the sweat starting to bead at your forehead. Maybe, he decided, not giving you what you want all the time would be worth it.

And Rindou. Rindou’s just so fuckin’ mean. He makes fun of you all the time for being so dumb, rolling his eyes and telling you should know better than to believe Sanzu’s shit by now, getting pissy when he has to repeat himself for the second, third, fourth, fifth time because you were too distracted by his brother’s fingers teasing up your skirt; too busy ignoring him for Ran’s flirtations as usual.

“Get the fuck up,” Rindou spat, watching as your pretty smile faltered, looking up from where you were leaning in close to his brother, running your fingers through his hair. You didn’t move, Rindou darted forward, hand curling around the collar of your shirt and yanking you right off of the couch.

“Rin!” you gasped.

“Rindou,” Ran warned, voice low, Rindou only glared at his brother--as if he would ever actually hurt you, he was always careful not to grab you too harshly or jerk you around too sharply. You stumbled onto your feet and right into him, eyes wide and pretty as you looked up at him, hands balanced on his chest.

“Get on your fuckin’ knees,” he said, heat rising to his lower abdomen when you dropped to your knees for him almost instantly--dumb as rocks, yeah, but at least you were an obedient little whore. For him, at least.

His hand curled itself around your hair, gripping it tight. He watched you wince as your eyes met his, still wide, tears pricking at them. He forcibly turned your head to the side, making you look at yourself in the mirror on the opposite wall, “Look at you, dropping to your knees just ‘cause I asked. You really are just a cock-hungry whore, aren’t you?”

You shook your head, tears spilling from your eyes as you looked at him through the mirror. His grip on your hair tightened, “Said look at yourself, not me,” your eyes darted back to the reflection of yourself immediately, “How are you gonna see yourself and say you’re not just a fuckin’ slut? Isn’t that why you’re fuckin’ around with me, Ran and Sanzu--just can’t get enough with only one of us.”

You shook your head again and he forced turned your head back so that you were looking up at him, “‘s not true,” you sniffled, lips trembling, “Rin, I love you guys, ‘m not-”

He brushed his thumb over over your cheek, wiping away some of the tears streaming down your cheeks, and of course he knew you actually loved them but it was just too fucking fun to make you stress over it.

“Can prove it! ‘can prove it, Rin!” and he tilted his head to the side, waiting for you to continue. He watched as your eyes flickered down to his already half-hard cock and Rindou almost laughed. Convincing him by doing the very same thing he was ‘accusing’ you of using them for, you’re fuckin’ precious.

But Rindou was never one to turn down a good blowjob so he just nodded his chin at you, go ahead, and watched in amusement as you fumbled with his belt. Sharing a brief look with Ran, who seemed just as entertained by your choice of convincing him, he looked back down at you after you managed to free his cock from his pants.

He tapped your cheek with two fingers, you looked up at him, “Hands behind your back and open wide.”

One hand finding its way back to your hair and the other guiding his cock to your mouth, he inhaled sharply as your tongue darted out to lick the precum beading at his slit. His grip tightened, you winced again.

“Sit there pretty for me,” he said and you nodded, keeping your mouth open wide as he pushed his cock into your mouth, jaw clenching at the feeling of your warm mouth surrounding him, watching as your brows furrowed briefly as you tried to adjust to his size before he went any deeper.

He did not give you the chance.

He groaned as he pushed your head down fully on his cock, feeling you gag around the sudden intrusion, throat convulsing around him. Oh fuck, he thought, eyes trained down on you, watching as you kept your hands behind your back even as your every instinct told you to push yourself off of his cock so you could breathe.

“Good girl,” he murmured, drawing his hips back briefly before snapping them back against your mouth, fucking your throat at a steady pace, watching you choke and gag all over him, drool spilling over the corners of your mouth and down your chin, tears streaming down your face.

You were a fucking mess and Rindou was sure you’d never looked prettier.

You never knew what to expect with Ran, for better or for worse. He was always the most charming of your three boyfriends, he always had you giggling silly and blushing, but it was a matter of whether or not it was a nice charming or a mean charming. Charming in a way that had you stuttering and stumbling over your words, blushing like a fool or charming in a way that still had you blushing but also had tears stinging your eyes because there was a cruel undertone that even you couldn’t miss. It gave you whiplash, really.

“My pretty girl,” Ran cooed, running the back of his finger across your cheek, the cool metal of his ring making you shiver, “always all dolled up for us, aren’t you?”

Ran waited for you to nod before speaking again, “Are you sure it’s just for us?” he asked after a moment, voice cold as ice, and you blinked, reeling at the sudden change of tone, “I’m not sure if it is, I see the way you strut around base for all of the other fuckers here. Saw you cozying up to Hanma Shuji earlier too--while me, Rin and Sanzu were busy talking to Mikey and Kokonoi.”

“Huh?” was all you could say, staring at Ran blankly as he tilted his head to the side, lavender eyes sharp. You shifted on his lap nervously, eyes looking anywhere but at his face. His hand darted out to grab you by the chin, grip painful as he forced you to look at him. You swallowed, watching as his loose hair fell into his face, barely resisting the urge to brush it away, “I was just saying hi, Ran, he offered to wait with me until you’re done.”

His thin smile was cruel, “Oh, did he?” Ran drawled and you nodded hesitantly, feeling distinctly as if you had made a mistake, “and him waiting with you involved you feeling him up?”

What-

“What?” you gasped, “Ran, I-”

“Yes you did,” it was Rindou that spoke, and you turned to look at the younger Haitani in disbelief. Desperately, you looked at Sanzu for help but found no support as he watched you coolly. Why were they ganging up on you?! They never ganged up on you! They were always arguing with each other.

“I tripped,” you said, flustered, and you had, you had been walking with Hanma toward where Sanzu had told you to meet them and you tripped over an uneven plank in the flooring, Hanma had caught you from crashing painfully into the ground.

“You tripped,” Ran mocked, “I bet you did.”

“I did,” you said, shifting again in his lap and inhaling sharply as his leg bounced up, unintentionally grinding against your clit. His eyes sharpened in on you and you pressed your lips together, praying that missed it or that he let it go if he happened to notice, but you should’ve known better.

Haitani Ran does not miss anything, nor does he let anything go.

“Oh?” he murmured, fingers ghosting your thighs, “What’s this? Our pretty girl is needy?”

You shivered as his long fingers drifted across your inner thighs, whimpering as they brushed over your clothed cunt, “So wet already,” he clicked his tongue sharply, “and you expect us to believe it’s for us when we haven’t even touched you. Did Hanma Shuji make this wet, pretty girl? You’re sitting here on my lap still thinking of him?”

“No!” you protested immediately, “Ran-”

“Prove it,” he said, voice icy and you stared at him once again, unsure of how he wanted you to prove it. His gaze darted down to his leg, you followed it before looking back up in confusion, “If you’re this wet for us,” he cooed, “you should have no problem getting yourself off by riding my thigh, right?”

Your mouth dried up, eyes nervously shooting toward Sanzu and Rindou, both of whom were watching the two of you. You were no stranger to exhibitionism, Sanzu had you cockwarming him during nearly every Kanto Manji meeting at this point, but the thought of them watching you get yourself by rubbing yourself on his thigh had embarrassment swelling through your stomach.

“Ran-” you began but cut yourself off as he raised his eyebrows, leaning back in the couch before pointedly looking down at his leg again.

Go on, he told you.

Lips trembling, you rocked your hips lightly against his thigh. Ran’s eyes remained on you, unimpressed. You gasped as his hands curled around your hips, grinding you down so hard against his thigh that it had your back arching and hands shooting toward his shoulders to find some sort of leverage.

“Ran!” you cried out but he didn’t continue, instead hooking one arm around the back of the couch and the other working at the zipper of his pants.

“Keep going,” he told you, “and maybe I’ll let you cum on my cock after you finish on my thigh once.”

Tears spilled over your cheeks as you heard Rindou make a comment about you looking like a desperate whore but you couldn’t take your eyes off of where Ran’s long fingers were running up and down his pretty, pretty cock. You could feel your cunt aching empty as you rolled your hips against his thigh again, half-sobbing as he bounced his leg up lightly, putting more pressure on your clit.

A high-pitched moan escaped your lips as Ran bounced his leg in time with the strokes of his fist around his cock, head thrown back and lips parted, “Ra-an, Ran! Wan’ you to fill me up, Ran, want you in me,” you cried loudly, nails digging into his black jacket, “Ran, ‘lease fill me up, wan’ your cock.”

“Pretty girl,” Ran laughed, voice catching and a shameless moan slipping past his lips as he squeezed the base of his cock lightly, “You don’t deserve my cock yet, you know what to do if you want it.”

And this time you did sob, tears blurring your eyes as you continued to helplessly rock your hips against Ran’s thigh, grinding down as hard as you could in a futile attempt to push yourself over the edge but how the fuck were you supposed to make yourself cum just from grinding against his clothed thigh when you could see him fucking his fist with his cock? When you could see what exactly you were missing out on? You were too empty, too empty, how were you supposed to cum without being stuffed full after them constantly spoiling you with their cocks?

“I ca-ant,” you clawed at his jacket, “Need to be filled n-”

“If you make me help you, won’t fuck you for two weeks, will make sure Rindou and Sanzu don’t either--you'll get real used to getting off on our thigh then,” Ran threatened and a broken moan of his name left your lips as his free hand shot forward to grab your neck, forcing you to look at him. “Hurry the fuck up and cum.”

The words in combination with one last rock of your hips and one particularly hard bounce of his leg had your vision going white and your body tensing and your nails raking down his clothed chest as you came all over his thigh. Distantly, you heard Rindou and Sanzu murmuring to one another but your mind went black as Ran helped you ride out your high, grinding his leg up into you and holding your hips down against him with his free hand.

“There you go,” you barely heard him over the blood roaring in your ears, words barely registering as your mind went near-blank from the intensity of your orgasm, “That’s it, pretty girl, knew you could do it for me.”

His voice was warmer as you slumped limp into his chest, breath heavy and body shaking. He rubbed gentle circles onto your back, “Don’t tap out on me yet, pretty girl,” he chuckled, “you’ve got quite the night ahead of you, you know?”

They are bullies >:( but they love you dearly, and god help anyone else that tries to bully you because they can and will fuck them up beyond recognition.

---

taglist: @spookygeto @kennyb0y @devinsdaydreams @mortuary-ossuary @portfolio-of-dreams @sugusshi @sano-obsessed @wakasasucker @aces-high @haitanihime @bontens-cum-slut @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @crackheadwithtoes @zuuki @daiserenade @hanmascult @kisekihany @4leafcloverwithawhitecraneforyou @hollypastl @imkumichan @obsessiontoanime @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @marism @prettyiolanthe @whydohumansss @rinsie @blvebcrry @givinggoodvibes @nina-and-the-mirror-realm @rozcdust @chifuyuslilkitten

Madam Kamo - C.K.

Synopsis. Bréeding kínk? Going feraI? What the hell is that? Maybe your sweet clan leader husband knows the answer…

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Choso, arranged marriage, mentions of heirs, he’s a little ínsane, elders are awful, MARATHONS, he goes FÉRAL, BRÉEDING, creampíes, a lot of cúmplay, semi-public, dóm Choso, oraI (fem rec), cervíx kíssing, making it fit, bulges, cúmflations, matíng presses, dúmbification, overstím, making him CRY, p talking, spítting, HEADLOCKS, slight 5 + 1 things, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 9.3k

A/N. CLAN LEADER CHOSO CLAN LEADER CHOSO

Choso Kamo - firstborn son of the ancient Kamo clan, more of a myth than a man.

Those who attended the sprawling Kamo Estate never dared utter a word about him; and those who didn’t, well, he was all that they could talk about.

He left no evidence, he left no remorse. 

Only rumors of a silent, stoic leader who could slaughter four entirely different clans before he let even a singular whisper of it spread amongst the masses. Ones of pretty mahogany eyes, and a silver bow and arrows that hit the target of your very soul - so fluid it was as if he’d forged the weapon with his own blood. 

And then there were the other rumors - more gossip than anything, really. Spread throughout every nook and cranny of stuffy social functions about how the deadly Kamo clan leader had another, secretive side. A softer side.

But, of course, rumors were rumors. Choso Kamo was simply an enigma.

And…your new husband.

“Zoning out, hm?” A hot gust of breath sends shivers sprinting down your spine, and in an instant you’re snapping your eyes to latch onto deep, hazel ones. Choso’s. The edge of his plump lips curl slightly upwards, “My apologies, this wedding reception is quite droning, isn’t it?”

Hastily breathing, “N-no! Of course not, I…” You’re wincing when yet another wizened elder saunters up to the raised platform of your table. Probably the hundredth of the night. “-yeah, maybe a bit.”

Choso stifles out a rumbling bout of chuckles as he catches your gaze, so close now that his pearly white teeth almost nick your sensitive earlobe. “Let me take care of this, my wife.”

And when Choso shifts over to nod curtly at your oncoming guest, you couldn’t help but appreciate how beautiful he is. All tall, towering lines of lean muscle, his silken black yukata wafting of heady cologne, and delicate features that made him have almost as many admirers as he did foes. 

Or, at least, delicate features that were currently twisted into something hardened. Something exactly like clan leader Kamo of all the stories. 

He’s tilting his head up, long lashes narrowed, “Elder Tanaka, a pleasure.”

“No no! The pleasure’s all mine.” The older man slurs drunkenly, and despite the way his words were just dripping with saccharine sweet politeness, years of suffering through these exact interactions had made it easy for you to spot faux niceties. Like right now. “Or should I say- the new madam’s. You must be glad to marry into a clan as esteemed as the Kamo’s.”

The plastic smile that smears all over your face is painful, and you’re biting your tongue before it betrays you. “Yes, of c-”

“My apologies for cutting in, madam.” You’re startling - but you don’t know whether it’s because of the softened fingerpads that intertwine around yours, or the utter fire curdling in Choso’s eyes. “But I must say, I am the lucky one here.”

Oh.

Elder Tanaka is more impressive than you thought - his mask of respect barely even cracks, other than the jerky twitch of one eye. Honestly, you don’t think he’s ever heard Choso speak this much ever before. Quickly gathering his bearings, “Ah- ah, of course, master Kamo! Correct as always!”

Fuck- you can’t hold back the way you roll your eyes, only remembering yourself when Choso’s engulfing hands loosen from your own to give your thigh a warm squeeze. 

“You have wedded quite the catch, of course of course.” Your unwelcome company finally, finally looks at you properly. A sneer coating his slow blinking, “I-I simply meant that considering the master’s incredible power, wealth, and options, what she brings to the table-”

“-is herself.” Choso finishes off monotonically. “And that’s all I need.”

Choso’s words were husky, his grip on you tight. And you wonder if he even realized just how hard he was clutching onto your heated skin - mountains of his palm dragging a smooth up n’ down your clothed leg.

You knew he was well-hidden underneath the lacy tablecloth, you knew that not a single elder, family member, or friend bustling about your wedding reception could see that particular touch over the dim yolky lighting. 

But something about it just made you feel hot. 

It takes you a few fuzzy seconds to realize that Elder Tanaka was still speaking - in fact, he’d even summoned over a few more members of the council to encircle your decadent table. All the more voices speaking at you rather than to you.

“-that’s what I was saying-” You’re catching croaked-out snatches of conversation, warily eyeing the way the men clap each other supportively on their backs.“-it’s about the right time don’t you think?”

Another one nods, “Jin has been waiting for so long, after all-”

“-yes yes, to have an heir-”

Oh.

That’s what had Choso’s high cheekbones currently dusted with a faintly blossoming rose pink. That’s what had his thickened digits dipping past your luxurious evening yukata to rover between your thighs higher, and higher- like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. 

Like he was yearning for it.

“The Kamo clan shall have an heir.” You’re interrupting their ramblings, the mere sound of your voice enough to make Choso’s fingertips twitch. Smooth skin prickling with heaps of goosebumps already when you lock eyes right with his. “As soon as my husband is ready, right?”

And Choso Kamo was brought up with the most rigorous of training, raised to never show even the barest flicker of emotion - especially one where he’s caught off guard.

But right now he knows that he looks as stunned as he feels.

Coral pink maw falling into a soft oh! dark whirlpools of his eyes glinting with something so utterly raw. The trembling tips of his fingers lurch up just the barest inch to drag a lazy line down your pussymound. 

He’s instantaneously shifting his free hand up in one, fluid motion to cover the feverishly flushed half of his face. Jaw clenching with a sharp click! of his teeth when he swipes the fat pad of his thumb down a fresh bead of your leaking slick, making such a flimsy mess of your drenched panties. Was this all for him?

Because now Choso’s getting…greedy.

And you’re almost letting off a slight whimper when he hastily drags his scouring hand away - that is, before every and any sound dies in your throat once your husband dips his wetted thumb past his lips and sucks. 

Subtly. 

And his voice cracks oh-so-pathetically, “R-right.”

Eyes staring deeply into yours when he parts his doughy fingertips mere millimeters to lather it with a fat wad of saliva. Your breath hitches in your chest, frantically glancing at the babbling group of men who were, thankfully, way too absorbed in themselves to notice your little…tryst.

And it’s only with all his years as a seasoned fighter that Choso’s nuzzling his soaked digits back between your jittery thighs. In a flash.

Planting exactly three soppy smack! smack! smacks! plapped onto the perfect arch of your drooling pussy. Choso’s raising his neat brows at just how those tremors make you squirm in your seat.

“Ch-Cho—so-” You’re gasping under your breath, hips repeatedly shuffling on your cushiony chair when he licks up repeated, sultry circles- no, wait, hearts along the slippery slit of your covered cunt. Up and down. “Th-they might see…”

“Shhh, don’t want them to hear, baby.” He’s leaning in to pant out a murked cloud against your ear, throat bobbing with a ravenous swallow of saliva as he then probes a few stuffy fingers under your panties. “You seem stressed– Let me take care of it.”

Oh, it was a promise - and the rasping growl that bled into Choso’s tone told you that he was well and fully intent on accomplishing his little task. “Spread those pretty legs now.”

With a steady, muscular calf hooked with your own, he’s cracking your thighs evermore parted. The scorching hot press of his big, beefy forearm over your shoulders making you feel as if you’re on the verge of melting. Practically on his lap now-

“Is everything alright, master–?” You’re hearing from what sounds like somewhere over in the distance, even though you already know that it’s from right in front of you.

“Everything is quite alright.” Choso’s plush pecs vibrate with his rapid answer, and you’re finding yourself leaning your weight onto his. Huffing and puffing near the crook of his neck, “It seems the madam is just feeling a little ah…tired, right now. Continue your talk, elders.”

Tired - you couldn’t feel more riled up if you even tried.

“Ngh- Choso-” You’re sinking your teeth into your wobbly lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. High, carved chair singing off a slight creak! when you’re bucking your hips up to jostle his gluttonous fingers closer to where you wanted him the most. “-need you.”

Well, whatever his wife wanted - you got. 

In simple nanoseconds, Choso’s snugly prying away your gauzy lace. Letting the too-thin fabric snap back against your sappy cunt with a teasing little swat!

Before you can blink, he’s gracing your panties with microscopic tears at just how eager he was to give your plump, buttony clit a good, hard push. Cold golden wedding ring perking up against your most tender spots. Flexible wrists bending towards an even vulgarly deep angle to keep you from escaping-

And you think you could scream, you think you could open your mouth to make a scene - before Choso beats you to it. Purring out an oblivious, “Is everything alright, my wife? You seem a little feverish.”

All the while slipping n’ sliding his fingerpads to smear your gluey pussylips open. Mazing down, down, down in a lecherous little pace to plug up your geysering entrance snugly full with two of his fattened digits. 

You’re clutching helplessly onto Choso’s thick yukata sleeve when the elders stare over at you curiously, “I-I’m fine, Ch- my husband. Just a few post-wedding jitters.”

“Awww, that’s alright.” He’s cooing from above you, words sugarcoated with such gentleness - but his hands were anything but. “M’here, m’here.” Setting out a vicious, ceaseless pace that has his manly fingers outlining numerous circles round n’ round your tight, flooding entrance. Motioning in slight, sleazy swirls all around your elastic hole just to fit inside properly. “Your dear Choso’s here, y’know? And I’ll take such good care of you.”

“Ah! Of course-” Ring out the replies, evidently your hurried-out shudders were not enough for your guests to lose interest. Or for Choso, either - because he’s just feeding your slobbering orifice with more fat inches upon grinding inches. “-producing an heir is a very integral part of the marriage contract. It’s understandable to be nervous.”

Shivering, “S-sure.”

“Mhm—” Choso’s trawling his pouted mouth down your perspiration-simmered temple, “-a very integral part. But, of course, we’ve got to make sure that my beloved wife is-” Quirking the very edge of his digits to clash right into the target of your g-spot. “-ready, after all.”

The clingy embrace of your warm cunt so cozy that it’s bumping Choso’s metallic ring further and further from his hilled knuckles to dredge out a chilling, languid massage along your channel. 

It takes everything in you to manage up a half-heartedly narrowed glare up at your chatting husband, easily conversing his way through every battering ram being placed on your pretty pussy. 

He doesn’t make a sign - he doesn’t even make a noise. Nothing except for a sharp, sudden inhale once another innocent peck at your lips makes your filthy hole fountain out a fresh lather of sickly sweet juices. 

Dripping all the way down to his wrist with thickly viscous adhesive, he’s making such a fucking mess. And a loud one, too. 

Slurp after slurp being wrenched out with every pound of his neatly cut nails patterning out little indents onto your most favorite spots - ones that have your legs shaking underneath the humid table. Choso’s bouncing his knee to drum out a staccato against the floor, just to cover up your cute little melody.

He has you going insane.

You’re pushing apart your legs to dig into either side of your chair with just how desperate you were for him. For more more more.

Bumping your thigh against one of his, and the mere touch is enough to send shockwaves down Choso’s sloped body. 

“Trying to tease me, baby?” He’s hovering over you even closer, darting out a hefty thud! of two fingertips- no, three - when did he even bully in another one - onto the goopy roof of your cunt. 

“M’not-” You’re biting out, head lolling ever-so-slightly backwards when Choso furrows his brows and pumps out copious thrusts that hit your forbidden g-spot dead on. Engulfed so deeply inside your hot core that the gentle curves of his palm smudge against your clit now. “J-just keep- talking.”

And, truly, it wasn’t just because your company was peering over the two of you expectantly - it was because Choso sounded so very hot. 

Vibrato husky with an animalistic sort of need, tremoring ever-so-slightly-

“Agreed, I would like a few sons and daughters.” Choso’s nodding along smoothly, although his full attention is focused on you. His wife. And the way your sweltering hot gummy walls clench around his bludgeoning fingers even tighter at the words. Faster. “Maybe three. Maybe five. Although, it’s up to the madam.”

In the corner of your eye, you’re catching them all staring at you, and you urgently force out a nod.

“C’mon now, answer them using your words like a big girl, why don’t you–?” He’s humming, tilting your burning face up. Faster. So that you can’t hide.

Lilting shrill just as unbalanced as your head was, “Y-yes-”

But of course, that wasn’t enough - that would never be enough. “Louder. They can’t hear you over the music, baby.”

Can’t do anything but claw down drawings of red, red lines all across Choso’s milky arms when he bustles into the targets of your honeyed spots even harder. Unsteady syllables spilling out from your lip before you can even register them, “Yes- yes. As…many as possible.”

“That’s it- good girl.”

Fuck. 

And those raked scratches make perfect artwork for him to admire - just as he was admiring you right now. 

It was just such a shame that the others here were, too, even if they didn’t know the complete and utter sin happening just underneath the table cloth. Sloppier. 

Choso’s kissing his teeth, broad deltoids of his shoulder positioning to hide you away from any sleazy gazes. Because they could be near, but they couldn’t see. You were his.

“Then, it’s settled-” He’s drawling, hooded eyes locked onto you. Memorizing your every minute twitch and reaction when he urges his free hand to hold onto yours on your lap. Or, at least, that’s what it looked like to the outside. In fact, Choso’s snugly prying apart your silken robes to roll over your throbbing clit and pinch. “-we can look forward to an heir, soon. Right, madam?”

And that’s all it takes for you to cum.

Your head tucking into his sculptured shoulder, thighs closing with a dull clap! as your high crashes into you headfirst. You don’t need to mutter a single sentence for Choso to know.

For his eyes to widen just a fraction at the way your treacly slit only got infinitely dewier, rounded gumdrops of your slick sprinkling down in a weepy sheen all over his messy hands. Mouth going parched at the realization that you’re orgasming right here, right now. 

“O-oh? Seems my wife agrees.” Choso’s waving those elders away now, not taking his eyes off of you for a single second. It was just too adorable how you were shaking like a leaf at his side, “Well, m’glad. So- so…glad.”

Motioning your hips in such salacious semi-circles to bump up his upright fingers against your every extra sweet orifice.

Your sticky walls were so staggeringly tightly wrapped around him that it’s making his forehead bead with sweat, low puffs of air escaping with every peak he fucks you through. Every peak of white-hot pleasure that he draaags out until your guests are finally - finally - walking back to their own tables. 

“Sh-shit-” you’re mewling when Choso barely hesitates - barely even takes a quick sweep around the room to check who might be looking - before parting from your sappy cunt with a resounding squelch!

Immediately popping those viscously-glazed fingerpads into his starved mouth, he’s letting his glassy eyes sprint to the back of his head. Musing out a moan, “Fuck- fuck!”

You can only watch with an awed gape whilst Choso stares right into your heart-shaped pupils as he cleans himself off. One by one. Before trekking his lustrous fingers back over to your cunt, and measuring out a wide few inches - perhaps nine - from the base of your teary entrance up to your tummy.

“Choso…” you’re whispering, hazy eyes blinking up at him as if through molasses. “Wha’s that for?”

And Choso only grins, stray range of knuckles thoroughly bitten underneath his gleaming canines while he measures you up. 

As if he was holding back. Keeping himself sane. And the half-lided greed in Choso’s eyes told you that he’d fuck you all proper right here and right now if he could. “N-nothing- just making sure of somethin’, my wife. Making sure that you can take me.”

Oh. 

This was far from over. You were fucked. 

And you were completely and utterly sure of it even if the topic of an…heir didn’t come up for the next few days after that. 

Not that you didn’t think about it, though - it was hard not to, when your fatally notorious husband showed such a tender side of himself with his younger brothers. 

With you.

And soon enough even through all the bustling meetings and duties of a madam, you’re still figuring out a way to tell Choso that you really weren’t kidding about what you said during that wedding reception.

Sure, you were drunk on his fingers but - that wasn’t just all, was it?

But you’d sorely underestimated just how busy a clan leader could get. And before you knew it, putting off the conversation for the morning after your wedding night had turned into putting it off for the weekend. 

Then putting it off for next week. Two weeks. 

All the way until you’re trudging along the winding corridors of the Kamo Estate during the most unholy hours of the night. Grumbling groggily to yourself about how you’d finally told him and it had ended supremely well - in a dream, that is.

Choso had been absent for almost the entire day today, attending an important land negotiation with a far-off clan, according to Jin. 

Now, you knew just how powerful your husband was - it was impossible to escape the legends and rumors, in fact - and you trusted him. Still, you couldn’t help but toss and turn the entire night away in your coldly empty bed as you wondered just how safe he would get home.

You’d been to such veiled conferences before, after all. 

And it’s simply pure worry that has you dragging yourself out of your king-sized bed to shuffle into the barely-lit kitchen. Stifling half-blindly in the moonlight through cabinets and coolers to find ah! Exactly what you’ve been looking for. 

Thank goodness this place was empty right now, you didn’t know if you could handle it if the chef was here to lecture you about balanced diets when you’re bites deep into your sugary, shaved icing.

And it’s exactly with this thought in mind that you hear a loud thud! emanating from the far end of the hallway. Your eyes widen, ears searching for more-

Footsteps. 

At this time? Your fingers itch towards the sparkling display of knives tucked in one corner of the granite counter. Ready to aim for that tall approaching shadow, ready to fling just as Choso had taught you when-

“Baby?”

“Oh–” Your breath comes out in a heavy gust of relief, eyes unable to tear away from the shaded outline of your husband, taking up every inch of the doorway. “It’s just you, Cho.”

It was. But there was something about Choso that seemed…different. Off. 

But not in a bad way - your eyes rover appreciatively over the tautly flexed muscles of his upper half, peeking out almost-blasphemously where he’d shrugged the upper half of his deep purple yukata off. 

Glinting bow and arrow stained with crimson, held in one tightly-gripped hand. Your nose wrinkles at the slight, dangerous scent of something metallic. Something not his. 

Yet, you can’t help but ogle the slow path of dewdropped sweat trailing down between the curvaceous bulge of his heaving pecs, bumping up and down over his washboard abs, before disappearing below-

It’s like you’re being bolted with an instant flash of lightning as soon as this happens, snapping your eyes over to find Choso’s weighty ones. And oh- the moment you do it’s like something in him melts. 

THUD!

You’re jumping when his weapons hit the floor - uncaring of whether this might alert anyone else in the household, uncaring of anything other than crossing the sizzling distance between the two of you in three urgent strides. 

You don’t even have the time to process it before Choso halts right before you and falls to his knees. Dark lashes fluttering up at you, he echoes, “Baby.”

Like a broken little mantra. 

“Ch-Choso- baby-” It’s just about the only thing you can manage out through hollowed gasps when he’s immediately digging two hands on either side of your hips to easily and pliably seat you on the icy counter. Just where he wanted. “-what’s gotten into you?”

“Dunno.” He’s garbling out, and you’re letting your boneless legs tumble further and further open to let him bury his face right at his favorite place - into your fluttering cunt. “Was jus’ thinking about you alllll day.”

And you could tell.

Because Choso’s every movement was depraved. Jerky. His sensory fingertips trembling when they card underneath your cottony sleep garments, bringing it up to his canines to rip–!

All with his mouth.

“Fuh-fuck-” You’re squealing at the sudden hit of cold air - followed very closely by a scorching hot breeze overtaking every inch of your cunt when Choso leans in and sniffs. Long, hard. Curdling out a feral keen at the back of his throat, “-that’s so filthy, baby.”

“Nothing’s filthy for me if s’you, madam.” At the glint of something slobbering and sharp, you can tell that he’s grinning. “If s’you or…her.”

He was enamored with your ready core, curving a gentle thumb down the glossy edges to give your driveling hole a good trickle of spittle. 

And Choso Kamo knew he had perfect aim - he knew he didn’t have to make a mess. 

But oh, he couldn’t keep himself from tilting his head just degrees to the side to let the splatters leave dripping wet splotches down your saturated folds, your inner thighs. 

Tongue so long, lolling out drunkenly to smear away that filthy excess. He’s poking heated ounces again and again back into your soppy entrance. You were practically flooding torrents of sweet, sweet juices around him, already making a mess that lacquers his dimpled chin. 

You were always so sweet - so good for him. And he can feel his ears pop already with the greedy anticipation of what he was craving to do. 

“Think you missed me, too.” He’s snickering, teeth sinking down onto the fleshy nub of your clit. It’s enough to make you want to sob. “Didn’t ya?”

Gyrating your hips in such hypnotizing little swivels off of the smooth counter, you’re feeling his candied breaths hit your gummy walls even deeper. Sloppier. Whimpering out, “Yes- yes. Missed you so badly, Cho–”

“Oh yeah?” He’s tensing up the dexterous edge of his tongue to swipe up unhurried skids of his roughened tastebuds around and around your quivering entrance. In and out. Syrupy slick leaking in heaps right as he does, Choso tilts his head back to let those gooey masses slide down his throat. “Mmm— you’re wetter than usual, baby. How badly do you want the ngh- clan leader on his knees for you, hm?”

It was true - and Choso can feel something coiling and coiling heatedly at the base of his stomach at the idea of giving you perhaps…a kid…or two to make sure you’re not so lonely anymore. 

Ah, he was pussydrunk. 

“So- too badly.” You don’t think you’d ever be babbling away like this if Choso wasn’t making out with your needy cunt like that. 

You’re tangling your fingers hastily into his dark, silken locks - gripping desperately onto his sweat-dampened scalp as you use up all your strength and push. All the way until the very tip of Choso’s button nose was meeting your pulsing clit in a harsh smooch, his chin smacking the teary ends of your cunt.

Words tremoring against the very outer ring of your puffy pussy, silvery strings of saliva n’ sap break off when Choso mutters, “Was talkin’ to her, y’know?”

Fuck. 

And you think you would be huffing and puffing about how he was talking with your dousingly wet cunt instead of you. 

That is, if you weren’t talking back to him from between your legs. 

Because the only thing louder than the slack-jawed ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips with every repeated thrust of Choso’s tongue, was the sound of your soppy squelches. “Ohhh- so that’s how your day was? Tell me more…”

So loud - so embarrassing that you can feel your heart race.

And Choso’s was, too, but for a much more lecherous reason as his tongue clashes even harder to draw out those very same pretty noises from you. He was craning his ears closer - he was addicted. 

“Yeah-  yeah, tha’s right.” Choso’s groaning, eyes faltering droopily until they were almost shut at the way his husking growls only make you wetter. Well, he could help with that. Hitting your hot core with wad after weighty wad of even more sugary spit. “Thaaaat’s fuckin’ right, missed how mouthy you hah- are. My talkative girl.”

“Cho- ngh!” You’re biting down on your tongue to hold back your words when Choso raises up a hand to leave a solid spank right on your bloated pussymound. 

He’s nodding along, head lurching intoxicatedly ever closer and closer. Wiping away a glistening streak of slick painted over his blushing cheeks - his blushing cheeks. “That’s right- would’ve made a- haaaah- a whole lotta b-better points than that stupid council does.”

Before pecking a lingering French kiss on your throbbing clit like a lover would. 

And you count one, two, three- partway through four before Choso seems to remember that he’s still in the middle of his conversation with your cute cunt. It’s rude to leave her hanging, he’s pondering.

“Well-” Stringing himself away with such a pained grunt, cerise lower lip plumping out in a pout at the mere thought of being away from you. “-better points than that stupid council d-did. They won’t be making aaaaany comments ‘bout you anymore, madam.”

Your leaden eyelids struggle to flitter open, “Wh-what do you ngh- mean, baby?”

But the only response you get is a quick staccato of swats at your leaky slit, before Choso’s curling in a thick thumb past your watering lips and in to your slicked entrance. Followed by the delicious drag of his lengthy tongue doubly slipping back inside.

Thrust after thrust. 

So extensive that he was skimming across all your ridges, mapping out every sweet spot of yours on his mouth. Your adhesive walls were clinging onto him like a vice, sappy mushes making him pry apart your thighs even more through furrowed brows. 

“Jus’- just means-” He can’t even bear to speak. To break off from stretching you staggeringly open. Your legs wrap mindlessly around Choso’s ravenous head, “-means I don’t let anyone- hah- say anythin’ about my wife.” 

Without a second thought, your eyes find his splayed-out arrows on the floor. The way they were sullied with red…

Oh. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything other than let your head jerk backwards, muffing out slight whimpers when he alternates in such sloppy measures between swirling the fattened expanse of his tongue all over every possible spot of your gummy walls and sucking on your clit like his favorite candy.

“They won’t say- do- anythin’—” In so deep now that all you could make out were numerous wet gurgles. And the pure, unadulterated love in Choso’s tone when he twists his thumb to graze right against your bruised and battered g-spot. Hard. “Not when I love her so much.”

He’s gonna raise your kids to love you just as damn much.

And when you cum, you think you might be sobbing - you’re shaking. 

Flurries of stars bursting behind your eyes as you dig your fingers through your husband’s perspired strands. Keening out, “Fuck- m’cumming- m’cumming–”

“I know I know.” He smirks hotly against your puffy pussy lips, so close that you could feel the cratered dimple of his grin. “Yer cute cunt told me, baby– heh- wouldn’t mind being welcomed ah- home by my wife like this every day.”

He lets himself be manhandled, pulled and pushed to your every whim. One of the strongest clan leaders whimpering - whimpering - when you pull just a bit too hard to mash his cushiony mouth in a deeper kiss. 

Hot. Sappy. 

You’re still shaking with sparking bouts of heat that rush down and up your spine, legs twitching when Choso pulls away with a loudly kissed mwah! Overly exaggerated just to see that shy, fucked-out expression on your face. 

He was so unfairly pretty like this - a delicate red blush burning all over his face, eyes half-lidded like he was feverish. A shimmery spray of your juiced slick drips down his chin, his bruised lips, all the way up to his regal cheekbones. 

He made a mess. And he was wearing it like a badge of honor.

Rising up, up, up to shutter your ajar jaw and plant a drenching kiss. Choso always left your mind so melty and stupid no matter what he did. 

“Do you…do you want some hngh- sh-shaved ice?” You’re babbling with your cottony tongue, unsure of what exactly to say after something as intense as…that. 

“Nah-” One kiss. Another Two. Five. “-I jus’ had something a whooole lot sweeter, madam.”

Right now it was so quiet in your kitchen. Just you, Choso, and the gleaming moonlight illuminating his pussydrunken enchantment. Even more so than usual. 

You’re glissading your arms around his sweat-matted neck, reeling him in even closer. He smells so good, piney cologne searing your senses even despite that tint of iron. Nervously musing, “Hmmm, wonder if s’always gonna be like hah- this whenever I get…cravings.”

Well- it wasn’t exactly what you wanted to say, but, better than nothing.

“Cravings, huh?” Choso’s eyes twinkle - and you’re not sure if that’s a result of the muted lighting or because of what you just said. Hopefully the latter. 

“Well- well just saying I wouldn’t mind if-”

Cutting yourself off, you’re sure it’s the latter when he rests a massive palm, warm against your tummy. Just for a split-second before tucking his big, strong arms underneath your body and propping you in an easy princess carry. “If you have cravings then I’d be the one cooking for ya, my wife. 24/7, at your feet.”

Yeah, you were fucked. 

But you never really realized just how much - just how badly - until just a few days later; seated on the polished hardwood floor of the famed Kamo archery dojo. 

It was routine for your husband to practice his pinpoint precise shooting, and by now it was your routine to watch him. 

How could you not? Because it was such a heavenly sight.

Choso’s pristine, white yukata unravelled at one muscular shoulder; showing off the rippling curves and dips of his sculptured back. Strong. His honed eyes filmed with a focus he only ever gets in bed. Adonis-like biceps bulging in a lecherous little flex when he draws the string back, back, back and lets go-

“YES!” Yuji’s resounding cheer thunders across the vast chamber with way too much volume than a six-year-old should possibly have. “Let’s goooo- big bwother hit the target again.”

A simpering smile stretches across your lips as soon as he turns to you for reassurance, gesturing out a slow nod at the way Choso keeps piercing bullseye after bullseye. “He did, your brother is very talented, Yuji.”

Humming, “When I grow up m’gonna be just like him.” 

“Of course.” You’re chuckling at his enthusiasm - the youngest of your husband’s brother’s always did have a special spot in your heart. And you can’t help but wonder when - if - you had an heir with Choso, whether they would be much the same. “You are his brother, after all.”

You’re frantically hovering your hands behind him once he bustles to a haphazard stand. Stumbling only a few times as he races over to the neat line of inventory, “Then- I’ll be just like him now.”

“Be careful!”

Ah, he really was a handful - which meant, you really didn’t expect it to go over perfectly smoothly. You’d known that simply wouldn’t have been possible as soon as you met Itadori Yuji. 

Yet, you didn’t expect everything to go so wrong in just a mere matter of seconds. 

Before you can even blink, Yuji’d tottered his way over to one particularly large, wooden bow - one used only by Ryomen Sukuna whenever he visited. Puffing out his chest as he reeled out the massively heavy weapon - overly heavy, way too much for even the most determined child-

CRASH!

“Yuji!” You don’t know who yelps louder - you, or Choso. But with your proximity, you’re the one that reaches him first, cradling the sniffling boy in your arms. 

You jostle away the weighty bow - honestly, how he even managed to lift this in the first place you have no idea. 

“Awww, don’t cry don’t cry–” You’re cooing, distantly registering the worried pants of his older brother skidding to a stop beside you. He always did have him curled around his little finger. Pushing away the pinkish curls from his forehead, “-you’re alright. See? You’re alright.”

“Are you hurt? Are you dizzy? Are you feeling nauseous-”

“Choso.” You warn, catching the way Yuji’s eyes widen in panic. 

Taking a few deeply necessary breaths to calm down. “You- don’t do that-” Choso’s hissing, but you could practically feel the worry seeping into his tone. Thumbing slow circles on his aching shoulders, “-ask me for a bow instead.”

You have to bite back a grin - with the watery glaze taking over his eyes, you wondered who was really hurt - Yuji or Choso himself. 

“M’sorry big bwother.” Blubbering through big, pearly tears that dry salty streaks down his chubby cheeks. He’s batting those lashes in a way you’re sure gets him out of any sort of trouble. Ever. The full, merciless force of it hits your poor heart as Yuji turns to you. “Sorry, mama.”

Mama. 

Mama. 

You freeze. Choso freezes.

Hell, even the twittering birds outside freeze mid-song. 

It seems like everyone in the entire world freezes except for an oblivious Yuji who only continues inching his tiny hands closer towards that guilty bow. Clearly not having learned his lesson - but you didn’t even register that right now. 

You’re staring at Choso, only to find that he’s staring right back. Droopy eyes uncharacteristically wide, blinking rapidly - it didn’t even look like he was breathing right now. 

Maw parting and closing stupidly agape, and you’re almost tempted to reach out and check whether he’s doing okay - before he finally finds his voice again. Finally. Husking out a choked-out, “W-well- maybe we should- ah- should-” He’s turning towards his contrastingly okay younger brother, “Yuji?” 

“Big bwother!” Comes the, unfortunately, helpless answer. 

And something in his beaming expression seems to jolt Choso out of his reverie, something that makes him let out a tight nod. Scooping up the giggling boy over his shoulder, he calls out at you, “Wait here.”

As Choso walks out of the doorway, you could only watch.

Only sit there for what could be four seconds - or maybe even four hundred years - until he’d presumably dropped off Yuji at the safety of Jin. Taking steady, focused strides back to you that thud! thud! thud! right along to the beat of your racing heart.

Choso’s expression is blank - pale as if he’s seen a fucking ghost. And he doesn’t even look at you, can’t even bear to once he walks back to the thickened air of the dojo. Now pointedly alone. 

Very, very alone. 

Wordlessly, he picks up his famed bow. And you swear that you can see his practiced hands tremble. Something was happening. 

It’s like an artwork that you can’t look away from. The fluid motion of aligning a singular arrow to aim for his final, rounded target. Doughy pads of his fingers pinching the string back, back, back until it snaps!

And misses. For the first time in years.

“Fuck.”

You barely have the time to compute - to even suck in a gasp of surprise before your husband comes and crashes into you. It’s as if he was magnetized and couldn’t get away even if he wanted to. 

It’s a frenzy of white billowing sleeves and powerful arms, throwing you over Choso’s shoulder in only two seconds flat - much the same way that he’d done with Yuji moments prior.

Except more…urgent. 

“Choso- Cho!” You’re squealing, as he lurches into hurried treads away. Legs kicking weakly in the air, only for your stubborn self to be granted with an unapologetic spank! right on the mound of your ass. Your nose crinkles as his long, inky locks tickle your face, “What is-”

“Be quiet.” Choso’s rasping, so small that it could not have been more than a whisper. So close that you’re drinking in heady wafts of his masculine cologne. 

Something in his snarling tone makes your stomach tighten. Digits grappling precariously onto the toned curves of his shoulders, your fingertips slide down the sweltering expanse of his exposed skin. 

And only too late do you recognize the familiar pathway towards your shared bed chamber- oh. 

So that was what it was. 

And judging by the dark, primal look swimming in the clan leader’s eyes you could only hope that you made it out alive-

SLAM!

You don’t know what’s forcing you more out of your excited little reverie - the shuddered slam! of your mahogany double doors, so hard that it makes the golden hinges shake, or the way you’re thrown haphazardly on the bed. 

Like some glorified toy. One of Choso’s favorites. 

You’re throwing your arms over his broad shoulders as you fall, lugging him in even closer with each springy bounce on the bedcoils. 

But closer wasn’t close enough for your husband - he’s bullying into every ounce of your personal space, caging you in between two splayed-out palms on either side of your thoroughly spinning head.

“Mama, is it?” Choso starts out. Slow. Thick. Like he was approaching a cornered prey. “Baby, I want…I want it.”

You’re blinking up at him through eager eyes, “Want what, Cho?” 

“I want an heir. I want to make you…” He gulps. The circles of his fingertips were so warm on your skin, trailing down lovingly all across your cheek. Your collarbones, your heaving tits - down to where you predictably flinched as he palmed your tummy. “-a pretty momma.”

Fawny strands of chestnut brown curtain his gaze, but you could tell just how serious he was. Just how greedy. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Choso like this in his entire life. 

All you can breathe out is a crackling, “Yes.”

You said it. You finally said it after all these weeks. 

And it’s the only thing you hear before your yukata is all but torn off of you, Choso doesn’t even realize when he’s doing so. It’s melting away like butter underneath his strength, mere obstacles to where the real prize is - your gorgeous, shivering body.

Pebbles of goosebumps rise onto the surface of your flesh when he throws away those useless pieces of fabrics onto the tatami floor - you can have more newly tailored anyway. Many, many more with just how round and full you’re about to be very soon. 

He’d take care of it for you.

“Oh, madam- madam.” He’s spitting into your unfastened mouth, low growls sounding out across each four corners of your room. Held hostage by the arousal in your eyes, he can’t stop staring. “M’gonna ruin you.”

And Choso is feral like never before. 

Usually one to take his time during sex, finetuning you into it like a sultry waltz. His favorite hobby was to drive you mindlessly wild before he even thought of stuffing you full. But now…

Still not breaking his dreamy eye contact with you, Choso hooks a rapidfire finger over the cute bow-tied hem of your panties. Slurring down an oozing little snail trail of slick that laminates your jittery thighs with evidence of just how badly you wanted him. 

You feel the blistering pant of his mindless oh! fanning your features, leaning backwards with a loosened maw to admire just how glistening you are in this lighting. 

How ready.

With a low, fucked-up whimper breaking at the back of his throat, he rubs over the bloated curvature of your needy pussy. Slipping ever-so-slightly at the saturated puddles leaking out, Choso has no hesitation or shame when he tugs his fingerpads into his mouth once. 

Twice. Thrice. 

Dipping back down for more and more and more-

“Can’t-” He’s guttering out, eyes crinkling and- fuck, were those tears? “I c-”

You reach your hand up to smear away his hot rivulets of salt, and Choso stops his prattling like a broken record forced to a halt. He jolts as if your touch has just sent a zillion shocks of voltage down his spine, all the trekking trailway down to his furious, aching cock. 

Unsteady hands flinging apart his snowy robes - barely even bothering to remove them and wrench down his undergarments before you see it. You finally understand why Choso was so…restless.

Because he’s never been harder. 

Fuck being furious, his bawling cock was seething. Equally as red as the ripest of strawberries, the split-ended crown of his cockhead was just as plumply swollen. All proud inches nestled underneath his painfully-clenching breeder balls, ballooned and lush. Only the barest of your gaze is enough to make Choso’s lustrous tip twitch, laminating himself with a freshly dripping glaze of translucent pre. 

Though, it’s not like you were doing any better. 

Your gluey lips pucker and pout up at him once he’s wrangling your legs into a boneless hold. The feeling of his palms underneath your thighs are so soft - even despite his battle-hardened calluses. Worshipping. 

But the way he’s resting your legs on his shoulders, and folding you in half like a whining lawnchair is the complete opposite. Mercilessly into a-

“M-mating press-” Choso’s getting out through strangled breaths, as if the sole words had his poor sanity fraying at the edges. “-mating press- a- a-” Something he’s never tried out before. His head dips down, pearls of sweat simmering across his trembly upper lip as soon as your sticky folds leave a wet snog on his fattened mushroomy tip. Topping it with a generous heap of honeyed sap, “Well, hello there, baby. I have you in a mating press n’ m’gonna…gonna…”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence. 

Couldn’t even finish his thought before Choso was doing - body moving miles and miles ahead of his stupidly saccharine-sweet mind. 

“F-fuuuuck–” You’re letting off the keenest of whines, the edges of your nails leaving neat crescents all over his toned back. It was the perfect little present for the way he had you so split open. 

And he was barely even pushing past the tip. 

“Oh. Oh.” Choso’s grunts are throaty, as if they weren’t coming from the man himself but somewhere murked and dark inside him. And the same went for his feverish thrusts - tight, rigid little pushes past your slicked-up hole just to fit inside. He’s spitting into your slacked mouth, “C’mon- c’mon c’mon–”

Usually, it takes so long to prepare you to take his nine- no, ten inches. But currently, fast just wasn’t fast enough.

There’s a thundering slam! abovehead - only hours and hours later do you have enough brainpower to realize that it was Choso striking his palm down on the headboard - and it makes your clingy walls grip onto the battering mountain of his dewy head. 

Squeezing in a repeatedly adhesive-like tempo, Choso’s nose crinkles at the rubbery resistance of your snug hole. Still molding to the slightest curves and ridges of his drowned slit with every desperate rut-

“Please- take it- fucking take it.” His voice was trembling on the edge of a crack, thickened exactly the way one does when he’s about to cry. “H-how can I fuck! How can I breed ya…if I don’t-”

And you’re swearing you see his ruddied cheeks glisten with a few slipped-off tears - though, that just might be from the way that your own vision mists over when his stray hand plugs up your spilling entrance to pry two thickened, scissoring digits inside and stretch. “Fucking- take that big fuckin’- cock-”

Bullying in a few more long n’ girthy inches- You’re so full that it feels like Choso’s pushing his bloated crownhead against the spongy edges of your lungs. 

The bed dips and moans with frequent soft creaks! when he plants his curved knees firmly further apart. Flexibly so. And you’re getting a good, greedy eyeful of his pale, bulky thighs - angling at the perfect bend to snap his slender hips and jackhammer-

“Sh-shit-” Your head sinks into the cushiony pillows underneath you, and it already feels like you’re in heaven. “-don’t- don’t know if it’ll fit, Cho–”

With a bitten lip, Choso rovers down his sturdy hand from the surface of the bedframe to measure out ten solid inches. Bringing it down much the same way he did during your wedding reception, “Y-you can, baby–”

“But-”

“You will.” He’s gasping, gracing you with a soft brush of his curvaceous mushroomed head along one of your utmost favorite hidden sweet spots. It’s enough to make you buck. “Gonna take my cock, n’ you’re gonna haaah- take my seed ‘ntil you’re bloated. So I’ll make it fit- fuck- watch, I’ll make it fit.” Before you know it, that very same hand finds itself crowning your head, threatening to push you down- “C-can you say hngh- ‘biiiig stretch’ f’me?”

You’re hiccuping out, “B-big stretch?”

“Nuh uh-” By the time that Choso shakes his head, you’re being sprinkled with loose flecks of his sweat. He was in so deep now. “Say it with me- b-biiig stretch, baby–”

“B-biiig- stretch!” It takes you everything in your body to hold your own against the vicious pounds being planted and struggled into your goopy depths. Choso was determined. Frenzied. 

And god, the way you’re dumbly parroting his words is so hot. He can’t help but dollop out muggy icings of pre that slosh and swab at every nook and cranny inside you. 

“Good girl.” Rewarding you with a slow heart being patterned right on the throbbing peak of your clit, the roughened edges of his fingertips rub you just right. Not too hard. Not too soft. Your husband nuzzles his flushed head into the havened crook of your clammy neck, “S-say it again, madam.”

“Biiig-”

Honestly, it’s a wonder you manage to get exactly two syllables out at all. Because soon enough, Choso’s taking your distracted few seconds to lace his fingers onto your scalp push. To bump his hips back until your geysering cunt was struggling around his fat, bulbous tip.

Before stuffing you full all the way in-

“Fuck- no.” Choso’s spitting out venomously against your thrumming pulse, sharp fringes of his teeth digging in animalistically. Bottomed out but still pushing and pushing- Slamming a lazy stripe of luscious precum down your spongy cervix, “No- no no–”

No sooner are you full of all his massive, rummaging length, he’s making you take even more. This time in the form of dribbling, ribbony volumes of cum that leak and leak and won’t stop from his heated divot. 

It’s ballooning up your tight channel even more. Swashing around and sticking to your gummy walls like a treacly lacquer. Filling you to your very brim-

“S-so much.” You’re gaping, through tear-strung lashes. The shivering edges of your fingers subconsciously dance downwards to splotch over the puddling globs of seed tricking from either side of your sloppy slit. Squeezing out even more to coat Choso’s bulky base with creamy rings upon rings. 

And, usually, your husband might be just a bit embarrassed. Usually, he would have pulled out to make out with your pretty pussy until your scores were more than tied.

But that wasn’t your husband right now. 

“Don’t.” Choso clicks his drunkenly heavy tongue, lips pulling back into what almost looks like an oh-so-feral snarl. And you have to admit that it looks so sexy on him. He’s rudely swatting away your curious hand, “Move that fucking hand n’ let me see.”

It takes only a split-second for both your hands to be pinned underneath one of Choso Kamo’s. 

“Tha’s not enough to take.”

And only one more split-second for him to flip you over onto your tummy and stuff your head into the cushy pillows. 

He’s fucking you like he’s using you. Like he’s pumping his mushy, swollen head to nudge in the weighty heft of his cum deeper and deeper and deeper-

“Y’know I hate hngh- disrespectin’ my wife, baby–” He leans over to sigh against your ear in craving hisses, pinning you with his body. His muscles. You could count each n’ every one of Choso’s bulging abs, glissading damply against your perfectly arched spine. Bubblegum pink nipples pressed roughly into your scorching skin, “Hate it- but…”

You gasp at Choso’s audacity next - at the way it makes you so traitorously soaked when he hikes up one of his feet to rest upon your head. 

Gurgling out a stupid. “Ch-Cho–”

But he didn’t seem to hear you - you didn’t know if he was even managing to breathe at this point. Only letting his devious lips twitch up, up, up into such a satisfied grin. “-but ‘ntil I get my hngh- heh…heir, you’re gonna hafta be my cumdump, madam.”

And if the saturated slurps singing out at a near-deafening tone from your dripping pussy said anything - it was that you loved the idea. 

Especially when the changed angle makes his scouring cockhead maze between the most treasured spots of your jelly-like walls to strike numerous, merciless hits dead-set on your g-spot. 

Ah, there it was, pipes up that small voice in Choso’s overtaken brain. Jostling your hips back onto his with a sudden spank on the target of your drivelling hole, the stinging pressure makes you bump your tenderest spots again and again into his ruthless batters. 

It’s bruising - the proud circumference of his plummy cock against your elastic cervix with every recoiling bounce, the rounded patterns of his balls against the hind of your pretty pussy with each thrust.

If you didn’t think you were being fucked stupid before then you were sure now. 

Your velveteen pillowcase dampens with the ever-flooding saliva spilling from your mouth every time Choso rears his aching shaft back to plant rapid, precise strikes where you wanted him the most. 

Whimpering at how every ramming dab of his split cockhead leaves leakages of pearly white cum all over the bottom of your pussy. That sultry swirl of his dumped heaps inside of you making your head spin just as dizzily. 

You almost don’t notice it when Choso’s drifting both hands to skirt over about halfway down your tummy. Feeling for that bloated, cylindrical outline of him vulgarly messing up your insides, “Gonna be e-even fuller here soon, y’know-” He’s giggling - giggling. Erratically letting his hands slide down to your clit to give the peaked ends just a tiny pinch. “-have you all round. Full. Full-”

He can’t say anything else.

He can’t do anything else - other than watch in purely entranced awe when that makes you cum all over his fucking cock. 

So big n’ thick that your claggy walls can barely even squeeze around his throbbing shaft. The thought makes you huff as he rams rigorously through your blinding high - teeth grit, your fingers fist at the pillows and make sure you can clench-

When you do- oh, when you manage to cling your gummy cunt onto his girth as if to suck out his fucking soul, it makes Choso cum, too.

Fatigued hips somehow matching his cadence, your knees shiver on top of the softened mattress stuttering through every dousing mass of cum gliding inside your cute cunt. It was so heavy having his massive torrentials inside of you, spraying the door to your womb with a slippery sheen.

It was maddening. 

And maybe it’s been hours - maybe it’s been mere minutes. But all you know is that you’re put through rounds and rounds and more rounds. But he’s still not stopping. Still dredging out the tiniest of hollowing grinds. 

Until much, much later Choso’s breath hitches in feverish stutters. It was so steamily hot inside you, only getting more humid by the minute as you ride out yet another crashing high.

“G’na milk e-every ngh- drop-” He titters, fleshy edges of his fingers closing in around where your pussylips were the most buxom. The most leaky. “-n’ you’re gonna ngh- keep it. Keep ‘ntil you give me an h-heir. Remember that, baby– keep it.”

You’re fighting against the weight of his muscular leg on top of you. Was he clamming your pussy shut? 

“Choso, baby.” Your straining out, throat drier than the Sahara at this point. Even despite how the hypnotized way your husband looks at you makes your tongue lather with watery saliva. “Want- want more.”

You think you might just have broken Choso Kamo.

Might just have made him reach another surprising high all over again with just your simple request. He’s lifting off the powerfully pressurized foot crowned on your head in favor of lurching downwards to grab your tender throat into a headlock.

Manhandling you as he pleased. Lifting you off of the tattered pillow, the completely splintered bed frame now. 

Your chin juts over his thick, bulging biceps, fighting for both air and the space-

“More- more, she says-” He’s chuckling out, words cracking a few octaves higher than normal. From the corner of your eye, you sneak glimpses at the way that Choso’s eyes were wide, crazed. Flashing all sorts of feral promises when he plants one, two, three long thuds against your soppy cervix. “Fucking- m-more.”

You’re letting off a tiny whimper - your orgasm nothing but tingles at this point. Yearning for that the piping hot streak of seed flushed into your already-overspilling cunt. Syruping in with the rest of his numerous goopy volumes, it’s thick and needy. 

Only one.

“Sh-shit.” He’s wheezing against your ear, free hand flying down to tug at his reddened base for more more more- one’s not enough. Every possibly wiry wisp and speckle that could fill you up. Could give him an heir. “Can’t cum dry- won’t- oh.”

Rutting into you like Choso won’t stop - didn’t know if he even can stop anymore. You flinch at the suddenly hot splatter! of something warm…and wet at your shoulder. 

“Cho- oh!” Not only was the clan leader drooling out glossy spatters of saliva, he was crying. Hugging you even closer, you’re showered in neverending streams of overstimulated tears.

And Choso can only babble away, “Hope- hope s’a daughter, madam.”

A/N. AYYY y’all have been wanting more dom Choso saurrrr- Anyways hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized. 

THIS WAS SO GOOD

I'm Locked In This Space

Day Twenty: Lactation + Bukkake | 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Tomura Shigaraki x Dabi x Twice x cow hybrid f!Reader Genre: Smut Notes: this is a sequel to this... enjoy 🐮 (you can probably read this without reading part one but... part one is bomb and u should totally read it 🤪) Warnings: 18+, noncon, pseudocest, lactation, bukkake, rough touching, nipple play, degradation, praise, group sex, cumplay??, fingering, masturbation, dacryphilia, slapping, spitting, kicking, hair pulling. Words: 3.7k

“Nii-San! Too rough!” you cry. “Too rough with me!” you continue.

“Shut up,” Tomura hisses. “They’re fucking broke, why doesn’t it ever work when I do it?” he complains.

“Because you’re a fucking incel and have no idea how to touch women.” Touya teases.

The light provocation is more than enough to rile up your brother. And who is lucky enough to be at the receiving end of his frustration? You. He slaps you, spits in your face and shoves you further into the ground. That slinky tail of yours waves around in the air as you try and pick yourself up. It was like you were begging for Tomura to yank it. You screech eerily, it’s jarring enough to cause everyone to cover their ears.

This would not be happening if your daddy wasn’t away on business. Touya was right, Tomura didn’t have a clue how to touch a woman. But your daddy was perfect. You miss him. He’d keep you safe; he always does.

If only Tomura and his friends hadn’t stumbled across your little indiscretion with your daddy. If only Tomura hadn’t discovered that your tits leak milk when you’re aroused.

You wouldn’t be in this fucking mess right now.

Jin drops to the ground. He can be just as mean as the others, but he has a sweet side too. There’s no doubt that he’s your favourite of Tomura’s friends. You curl your body away from him, still sceptical of his intentions. But he looks at you with pleading eyes. He’s begging for you to trust him. And maybe you’re dumb for having faith in him; but something is telling you to believe he won’t hurt you.

He sits with his back to the wall and spread legs, inviting you between them. You accept. You shuffle along, doing your best to prevent the swishing of your tail. If any of them must violate you like this, desperate for their milky reward, you’d rather it be Jin. He hooks his feet around your ankles, spreading you open for your brother and Touya to see. You nestle your face into the crook of his neck. You’re embarrassed, ashamed. He doesn’t mind. He wants to help.

Two thick fingers plunge into your already sopping hole. You mewl from the stretch, his fingers are a lot bigger than your brother’s. He lightly rolls a nipple between his finger and thumb. You instantly feel at ease. It’s obvious he has experience, something your dear brother severely lacks.

“Just relax sweetheart, gonna make you feel good.” he whispers as his face turns to you. A grin forms on his face when he sees your cute little ears twitching from the positive reinforcement. “Cum already! I’m getting bored!” he adds, the risen volume making you jolt.

You wrap an arm around his neck, pulling your face closer into him. For some reason, it’s irritating Tomura. He’s never been protective of you before. He hates you, after all. But seeing Jin be so kind to you and seeing how affectionate you are with him. He’s worried. Is he, jealous?

“You’re doing great baby, sorry I shouted. I didn’t mean it okay?” Jin hums. You nod, tears pricking at your eyes. It’s so unusual for boys your age to be nice to you. Tomura had made it very clear that you would never be allowed to make friends at university, he easily turned everyone against you. So, to have Jin be so sweet with you, almost like a friend. It was foreign, but it was nice.

“Stop being fucking nice to her, makin’ me feel like I shouldn’t be watching.” Touya interjects. Jin snickers but ignores his friend. Much to Tomura’s chagrin.

“Come on bitch, cum for me already!” Jin repeats in a similar vain to his previous outburst. How could you possibly cum when you were so nervous? But because of his irritating secondary voice, he’d mastered the art of speaking whisper quiet when he needed to. He lined his mouth up with your little, twitching ears, so he could help move things along. “I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my whole life,” he murmurs. “even your cow parts, in fact, I think they make you even prettier.” he confesses. You pull your face out of your hiding spot and look at him.

“Yeah?” you whisper back.

“Yeah.” he assures you. The feeling of his big fingers fucking your insides all of a sudden feels a lot more enjoyable. “Think you can cum f’me? Wanna make you feel good, gorgeous.”

Tomura has had enough, he’s not about to stand around and watch while you have a private conversation with his friend. Slut. Ugly cow slut. He begins to approach to drag you away from him, but Touya has noticed something he hasn’t. He holds his arm out to prevent him from moving any further. Your cute little face scrunches up and your mouth falls into an ‘O’ shape as your brother’s blonde friend batters your insides. The squelching is obscene, you’re desperate for this to be over so you can get on with your day. You’re close, so close.

“Jin!!—Nggh!” you moan.

You feel embarrassed as you cum in front of an audience. Touya and Tomura are lording above you while Jin holds you gently against him on the ground. You’ve done what they ask. So, you know what’s next.

“Make her do it, Jin.” Tomura commands. So Jin gets to work, pulling gently and carefully on the nubs of your breast. It’s so tender, loving. It reminds you of how daddy is with you. “Hurry up.” Tomura orders. With the right pull and a perfect pinch, your breasts are leaking. Tomura scrambles to the ground and hurries towards you, not wanting to waste a drop. He latches onto your breast and suckles greedily.

“Fuckin’ freak.” Touya hums. It’s ignored by your brother, he’s too drunk on the treats from your teats.

He wipes his mouth breathlessly as he takes all that you can give. He looks up at Touya, unashamed of his behaviour. He just pants, and pants. Until finally, he smiles.

“Make her do it again, you both need to taste it.” Tomura commands.

Jin gets to work on rubbing your swollen clit, eager to make this nightmare end for the both of you. It’s a relief that you’re so sensitive already, it takes no time at all to have you on the verge of cumming again. Jin stares intently into your eyes as you come closer and closer to the precipice. He’s telling you that you can do it. You’re amazing and you can do it. So, you do. God, you do. Jin begins tugging on your nipples again before Touya objects.

“I’m not an incel like this freak, I got it.” he tells his friend.

You’re yanked away from Jin and pulled onto Touya as he sits comfortably on the ground. He has you straddling him. He bites his lip as he admires the changes of your face. You must like it when your nii-san’s friends touch you. Whore. Stupid cow whore.

“Do my fingers feel good, sweetheart?” he asks you. You nod. He pinches a little harder, making you wince. “Words, doll. Tell me how good my fingers feel.”

“G-Good, Touya. Feels good.” you admit. It wasn’t a lie. It was obvious Touya had the most sexual experience out of Tomura’s friend group, and yet, you much preferred it when Jin was touching you. He pulls you closer to him, lacing his fingers through your hair and pulling you downwards. The skin of your neck is completely exposed, he nibbles lightly on your pulse point which makes your cunt clench around nothing. He lets you go, resuming his tender rolling of your nipples. And soon, they’re leaking once again.

“Taste it.” Tomura instructs.

Touya latches on, not offering Tomura a verbal response but feeling more than comfortable to flip him off. He’s devouring your essence. It is good. He supposes he understands why Tomura can’t get enough. Shit. He can’t get enough, either. He pulls away, he isn’t breathless like Tomura, but it was certainly an awakening for him. His lips are parted, they’re decorated with speckles of white milk. The upper and lower lip are connected by a milky, webbed string. He smirks at you, pursing his lips and making kissy noises.

You know what he wants.

You lean down to kiss him. And it’s weirdly intimate. Passionate, in fact. It enrages Tomura. He tries to intervene, but Touya sharply kicks him away. He huffs and groans. He’s furious. But what can he do? It’s Jin’s turn, anyway. He’ll just have to keep getting jealous until he makes his friends leave.

“Let Jin try,” Tomura speaks. But Jin shakes his head.

“Not interested. Let me taste your tits babe!” both of his friends were confused. Two conflicting points, but they always know which voice to believe. Why didn’t he want a turn? “You guys… You’ve skeeved me out. Freaks, both of you. I don’t wanna do it.” he confesses.

“Suit yourself.” Tomura responds.

“Aw, I think Jin’s in love. Tryna take the fuckin’ high road and make us look shitty?” Touya torments.

Jin huffs, searching for his cigarettes and lighter in his jacket pocket. He nods along with Touya’s statement, anything to placate him. He doesn’t love you, obviously. He doesn’t know you. You’re just Tomura’s little sister. He thinks you’re cute, but love? Tch. In any case. As cute as he thinks you are, he isn’t going to miss out on the finale.

Jin stands to his feet, as do Tomura and Touya. The sound of three zippers coming down whirrs through your mind and sends a disgusting, unexplainable feeling through your senses. You can’t handle getting gang banged. Not today, not ever. But that isn’t what this is. Don’t you worry your slutty little head about that.

Three menacing glares were fixed on you. Glowering down at your frightened, confused form. Jin was different, like he’d become a new person. The sweet, caring whispers were a thing of the past. All three of them had removed their hardened cocks from the confines of their trousers and are pumping away.

“T-Tomura-nii?”

“Sit nicely for nii-san.” he tells you, the familiar slit of his cock looking you dead in the eye. “You’ve been a good girl for us today, so we’re going to give you our milk now.”

Tomura ordered you to stay on your knees until they were done with you. The hard, cold flooring was less than comfortable for your aching legs. It was upsetting that zero of the three men standing before you thought to offer you some comfort in the form of a couch cushion or a blanket. But you aren’t surprised. They’re only out for themselves.

“Who’s first?” Tomura questioned.

“Probably you, right? Two pump chump, fuckin’ virgin.” Touya remarks, smirking once more as he finds himself so damn amusing.

“’m not a fucking virgin anymore!” Tomura argued.

“Why is that again? Oh yeah, because you bullied your little sister into fucking you and she agreed so that you’d like her more.” Touya continued.

“Shut up, Touya.” Tomura seethed, “You go first, fucking asshole.”

It was odd, really. That they were snapping and staring at each other while they had their dicks out. It was like they were threatening each other with their erections. A standoff, almost. It was even weirder that they didn’t seem to notice it was an unusual thing to do with friends. Maybe they’ve done this before, another innocent girl in the exact same position you are. But Touya shrugged. He was happy to go first. He’s been aching for a while now, and he couldn’t wait to see what you looked like covered in his pearly white cum.

His fingers laced through your hair yet again, forcing you to look up at him. He was smiling, really smiling. A cheesy, skin crawling smile that sent fear from the tips of your ears to the edge of your tail. Touya didn’t seem to be embarrassed that he had the shortest length in comparison to his friends. It wasn’t short by any means. Easily six inches. A nice length, not too thick either. It didn’t bother him at all. He has the most experience. He has the record for girls he’s made cream themselves. The size doesn’t matter, he knows what to do with it.

The blood pumps through his cock as he continues beating his length. His eyes fluttered closed as he focuses on his impending high. Memories race through his mind of girls he’s fucked and orgasms he’s experienced. His teeth grit. God, you’re so cute. You’re better than any of them. His eyes open again, and he bites his lower lip, harsh enough to draw blood. It’s your eyes, you see. Your sweet, innocent eyes all blown to hell. It’s like you’re pleading with him to not do this to you. But he has to. He needs to.

“Gonna look so pretty, painted with my cum.” he croons. You feel slick dribble out of your sloppy cunt. If there’s one thing you like about Touya more than anyone else, it’s his voice. And now, with the way you’re squirming on the ground, he’s picked up on it. “D’ya like my voice princess? Like it when I talk dirty, and low?” he wonders. You nod.

Your eyes are watery. The way his tip leaks doesn’t go amiss, so wet and ready to cover you in his wasted kids. He feels himself getting hotter. His forehead coated in a thin, sheen layer of sweat. Inky black locks sticking down against him. He’s running out of air, out of resolve. He can’t last. He needs to give it to you.

“Gonna cum, doll. G-Gonna— Ah, oh – fuuuuuck – take it.” he growls. Watery, white sperm lands on you. It’s hot, boiling almost. It’s warmed your entire face. You feel sick when you realise he got in your hair. It seems endless. Has it been a while for the resident stud? “Thaaaat’s it. Fuck, looks so fuckin’ good babe.” he groans, forcing out the last of his release.

You feel filthy. And it’s only going to get worse, two more scumbags to go.

Tomura wants to be last, process of elimination dictates that Jin is next. He lights up another cigarette in his mouth before forcing you to look up at him. It’s erotic, somehow. It certainly makes you more aroused, seeing his cigarette latched between his lips as he jerks himself off in front of you.

He can see the adoration in your eyes, too. Fuck, maybe he does love you. It’s undeniably a sight he can get used to. You still trust him, don’t you? That’s sad. That is real sad, actually. Simply because he showed the tiniest bit of kindness to you, you’re giving him more credit than he deserves. He meant what he said, but he only said those things to make you cum.

Jin is the biggest of the three, by far. Thick and long. Veiny, too. It didn’t surprise you at all. He’s the tallest of the three and it’s easy to see he’s got the biggest build. You knew the blonde would have a monster betwixt his thighs.

The cigarette is giving away how close he is, how desperate and needy he is to cum. With each inhale, the smoke comes out of his nostrils in shaky, erratic breaths. You’re perfect. You’re perfect. Yes, you’re fucking perfect. He loves you. He loves you, has he always loved you? He doesn’t love you, yes he does! He can’t love you. He’s been through this; he doesn’t know you. But look at you. So obedient, so beautiful, so willing. You love his cock, don’t you? Better than Tomura’s and Touya’s. He’s hoping you think you might love it more than your daddy’s.

“Say you love me,” he speaks, orange embers on the tip of the cigarette flickering playfully as he talks. “say it, say it darlin’. You love my fat cock, don’t you skank?!”

“I- I-“

“Fucking say it.”

“I… I love you Jin. I love your… your…” you gulp. The little bob in your throat makes his eyes roll over white momentarily. He wants to see his cock shoved down there, he knows it’d choke you. But you’d try your best for him, wouldn’t you? You love him after all. You’d take his heavy cock down your throat. That’d prove you love him alright, if you let Jin fuck your tight li’l throat. Next time. And away from these degenerate freaks.

His cigarette almost drops from his lips, but he catches it skilfully with his teeth. The way you jump and quickly close your eyes as he shoots his cream onto you is the cutest fucking thing he’s ever seen in his whole entire life. He grunts loudly, it’s manly and so erotic. He seems older than the other two. More mature. Touya may have fucked more girls, but Jin seems more grown. He doesn’t care to argue with them when they start. He isn’t interested in comparing dick sizes and he has no desire to get into competitions over girls. He’s here to cover you in his cum, and that’s all that matters.

His head droops backwards while he orgasms. Smoke from his cigarette dances and twirls upwards towards the ceiling. His contribution to your skin is both better and worse than Touya’s. It’s thicker. You prefer thick, creamy cum over runny. Although in this instance, you can’t stand it. It already felt disgusting to have one person’s essence on your skin. And now, they’re mixing. You’re sticky and gross. And you still have one more to go.

Your dear nii-san.

And what a pretty nii-san he is. The skinniest guys always have the longest cocks. Though he was still beat in length by Jin, he had a skinnier shaft too. Each of the men above you had something different to offer, and you were more nervous than ever now it was your brother’s turn. He jerked himself off with one hand as he ruffled his hair momentarily with the other. No wonder he’s so well liked and popular. He’s just so handsome. You still couldn’t believe he was a virgin until he fucked you. How weren’t girls throwing themselves at him?

“You’ve n-never looked better.” he smiles, observing your features. “All of this cum is covering that ugly face of yours.” he taunts, Cheshire grin taking over his face as he snickers at you.

“Tomura-nii… ‘m not ugly.” you sniffle, unable to hide your hurt feelings from them. Touya laughs lazily down at you. But Jin turns away. He can’t stand to watch, to listen. But he’d never defy Tomura or challenge him. Maybe he doesn’t love you as much as he thought. It was pre-orgasm hysteria.

“You are, though.” he replies to you. “An ugly little cow. You should be grateful my friends and I are giving you the honour of our cocks. No one else will, you know. No one wants to be with a freak of nature like you.” he spits.

“P-Please, stop…” you beg. Your fat tears roll down your face and mix with the copious amounts of cum covering you already. You truly have never, ever felt so disgusting and so used. But this is what Tomura wants, you don’t realise it. But there’s something so arousing about seeing you cry.

“Aw, poor little bitch. Did nii-san upset you?” he asks, and you nod. “Good. Ugly whore. You look even uglier when you c-cry.” he stammers. Voice betraying him eventually as he climbs towards his release.

He rubs his forehead with the back of his hand, eliminating the glossy sweat that’s making his icy blue locks stick to him just as Touya’s hair had been. Tremoring fingers begin to scratch at his skin, his neck. He’s anxious suddenly. Why are you fucking looking at him like that? You know how. Like you always do. So fucking needy and upset. He yanks your right ear, and you yelp woefully.

“Open your mouth for me.”

And you do. And for some reason, that is what makes him lose it. Your willingness to please your nii-san in any way that you can. The immediate enthusiasm to open your mouth if it means it will gratify your brother. And it’s wet. Your mouth, it’s so fucking wet. Your pink muscle vibrating in your mouth as you wait for him to deposit his load inside. Spit strings between your teeth. He feels stupid now, too. Because like Jin, he wishes he’d fucked your ugly little face instead. Give you a real reason to cry. He only spurts a little into your mouth. The rest squirting across your cheeks and into your eye. It stings, fuck, it really stings. As if you needed any more of a reason to cry.

“Good girl, stupid cunt. Y’hear me? My stupid cunt, nii-san’s ugly little cow.”

They’ve all tucked themselves away now. Ready to move on and head out somewhere for more fun. They aren’t sure what could be more fun than that. They can’t wait up to meet up with Kai and tell him how badly he missed out. Tomura has forbidden you from moving from that exact spot until they’re out of the penthouse. You’re cradling your bloodshot eyes. Praying desperately that they leave quicker. You want a shower; you want an ice pack. You want to be alone.

Jin halts as Touya and Tomura enter the elevator. He explains he forgot something, and he’ll meet up with them in a few hours. He’s gotta go home and pick up some things. They shrug their shoulders and bid him farewell. Tomura has known Jin long enough now, he trusts that he won’t try and steal anything. He trusts that he’ll retrieve whatever it is he’s forgotten and get out.

But he won’t.

He won’t, because he hasn’t forgotten anything.

He approaches you. Jin crouches down on the balls of his feet and offers you a hand. He’s smiling. Not menacingly. Not with an ulterior motive. He’s just smiling, earnestly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

© 2021 fuwushiguro

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Someone plz tell me why armin is so hot ughhh