The Crave | Satoru Gojo X Fem!reader

Perfect Worship | Caleb x fem!MC

This blurb is told from Caleb's pov :) (unedited also I don't play the game but I get lots of info from my bestie and obviously...tiktok)

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, kissing, obsession, heavy petting, fingers in mouth, glove play (?), dirty talk, childhood best friends are going to FUCK?, pussy rubbing, fingering (slightly), talks of raw vaginal penetration, teasing, edging wc: 1.6k a/n: O///o I need a stiff drink after that... and by a stiff drink I mean *** from Caleb's stiff **** ... I would be ashamed but let's be honest... I'm too far gone at this point

You’re staring at me with that look in your eye. It’s one I can’t ignore. “How could you…” those whispered words brought me out of my thoughts. How could I? What exactly did you think I did? I want to scoff, throttle you for believing any nonsense spewed about me. Though… the way you clench your fists in remembrance of our childhood is very endearing. It sends a stinging wave of happiness through my empty chest. 

“Haa…always so naive pipsqueak.” I breathe out, bringing my gloved hand to my lips. I gauge your reaction, watching your skin bristle at my words. That’s it. “When are you going to grow up?” Break for me. Your eyes narrow into slits, glowing with beautiful anger. Anything you felt for me was glorious as long as it was something. Your hatred for me was going to bring me to my knees. What I don’t expect is your hand to make a loud thwack against my right cheek. The action pushes my head to the left, the breath whooshing from my lungs. My fingertips caress the stinging sensation of my cheek, my eyes wide. Okay, so maybe you were stronger than I remembered. So then why? I want to groan with the flooding arousal to my groin. Fuck. Then I get a glimpse of you raising your other hand, ready to strike. 

This time, I stop your assault, catching your wrist in my hand. For a moment we just stare at each other, too caught in the moment to continue. I decide to break the stare off, slipping my hand further down your arm, then yanking you into my own body. You fall onto your knees, in turn, straddling me. I leave the choice up to you. Submit or drive me to insanity. 

Your lips close around mine in a desperate attempt to convince me you still had control. I let go of your arm, spotting my handprint outlined in red against your skin. A primal need pulses through my body, driving me to move my hand to the nape of your neck. More, I had to have all of you. 

A whimper falls from your mouth as I slot my mouth against yours, slipping my tongue to lap at your lips. Let me in. You oblige, allowing my tongue to swirl against yours in a dance of passion and yearning, built up over years. Even when I could see you everyday, it was never enough. 

I slide my knees apart so that you sink further into my lap, the apex of your thighs flush against my stiff cock. You moan into my mouth, pressing yourself deeper into the kiss. “Please,” you mewl, lips swollen from my aggression. Ah, begging me are we? 

“You’re grown, use your words.” I want to hear it from your lips. Hear your voice beg me to fuck you. The pitch and timbre give into moans. Let me worship you. Your brows furrow, frustration building on your face. Resistance. Something I know how to deal with all too well. “Fine then,” I coo, tracing the line of your neck with my leather covered fingers. “Be that way.” My evol surges, forcing you further downward until it feels like I’m in you. Your eyes widen and your hands immediately grip my shoulders. I can see it on your face, you feel it too. “How about now? Feel like talkin’?” I tilt my head, watching a shudder course through you. I lean back against the cushioned sofa, taking in the sight before me. 

Your face is a deep red as your trembling arm tries to hide your beautiful face from me. Damn if I was fucking you right now I could see everything. I blow out a breath, meeting your heated gaze from over your arm. “Ca…Caleb.” 

Oh. Did you think you could say my name like that and not have to deal with the consequences? I grab your hips, sinking my fingertips into the meaty flesh. “C’mon pretty girl, tell me exactly what you desire.” I’m begging you now. I can’t handle it. I’m going to go fucking insane. 

You slowly drop your arm, blinking at me through those thick lashes. You grind your hips down, eliciting a growling hiss from behind my clenched teeth. “Ruin me.” Your voice is low, almost too low. I want to hear you say it again, but my body moves on its own. I shift my hips to create an unbearable friction between us. “Please Caleb, I’ve missed you so much,” You’re ramblings couldn’t be a finer melody to my ears. 

There’s a part of me that wants to fuck you right here on the sofa, splay my cum all over your face like I’m some horny teenager again. But you deserve better than having my cock slam into you until dawn erupts through the windows. My first time should be making love with you, but I’d grown too accustomed to the art of war. “On your knees darlin’.” I command, observing the way you slip off my lap – disappointed by the briskness of the air around my legs since your warmth had left. You sink to the floor, using my thigh as stability, defiantly maintaining eye contact with me. “So brave,” I reach for your cheek, running my thumb over your plump lower lip. “If you do a good job I might go easy on you.” I warn, tightening my grip to where your cheeks squish inward. Your brows knit together and I can tell you want to fight back. There’s nothing you can do on any inch of your body that I don’t already know about. 

Your mouth parts, allowing my gloved-hand to sink into your warm and wet mouth. I hum, fascinated by the way your tongue glides around my digits. You close your lips around the length of my fingers, mimicking a sucking motion until my cock grows harder. You release me, saliva connecting the tips of my fingers to your mouth. “Did I pass?” You inquire, brushing a strand of your hair behind those lovely ears. How down bad did I have to be to call your ears ‘lovely’? 

I shrug my shoulders, leaning back once more. “I’m unsure, I think you might need something a little bigger to test your capabilities.” It makes your eyes perk up and your mouth quirk into a grin. My legs surround you as sturdy pillars as you move between them. Your eyes watch me like a hawk as you undo my belt, pulling it off with tantalizing slowness. It’s tossed to the side, the zipper of my trousers next. My cock immediately feels less stifled, but there was a part of me that misses that overwhelming pressure. The surrounding air was too empty, I needed something. Lucky for me, you can read me like a book. 

You pull my boxers down exposing my erection, which you stare at for an insufferable amount of time. I’m at my breaking point and there’s nothing you can do to save me. Your wet mouth wraps around the length of my cock, pressing your tongue under the head. Okay, maybe I was wrong. I’m obsessed with the way you push my length further into your throat until tears stream down your face. You hum against my shaft, eliciting a low growl from me. Your eyes glow with lust, keeping me on the edge. This was your way of punishing me, reclaiming control. Usually I’d be more than eager to allow your little rebellion, but unfortunately I’ve run out of patience. I click my tongue, wrapping my hand around your hair, then pulling taunt. Your eyes shutter as I pull you off my cock. 

“Hmm,” I like how pliable you are in my hands. Your eyes dart around my face, searching for an explanation only found in my words. “Shall I show you what happens when you're insubordinate?” The slight movement of your head is all it takes for me to yank you to your feet, tossing you toward the sofa yet again. You place your hands on the back, sticking your ass toward me. “You get punished.” I use my teeth to pull off one of my gloves, using the other to loosen your pants. They fall around your ankles, exposing a simple pair of black panties. Doesn’t matter, they’re going to be staying on my floor for most of this visit. 

I use my ungloved hand to rub your clit through the fabric, growing high off the soft moans escaping your mouth. “I’ve barely touched you down here yet you’re already so wet.” I comment, leaning over your back to hold you steady. I kiss on your shoulder blades and down until I reach bare skin. “Who knew you were so filthy?” I mutter against your back, slipping my fingers into your folds until I tease the entrance to your warm sex. “You gonna cum for me?” I inquire, not really caring if you answer with words because your body will be doing most of the talking here in a moment. “Haa, I bet I could just fuck you raw right now right?” I muse, drawing my hand from your throbbing pussy and to the hem of your underwear. “You want me to shove my cock in you huh? You’re practically serving me your wet cunt.” I’m hungry and you were going to feed me. “Don’t tell me you were waiting to see me again just so you could jump my bones?” I laugh, running a hand through my hair as you hang your head. “Well I’d hate to disappoint you, so I’ll show you everything I learned while I was gone. Come on, let me make it up to you.”

Temptress

His hands were big, almost bigger than your chest. It was surprising the first time you looked at them, really looked at them. He was just sitting there, hand splayed out behind him to support his lean as he chatted with surrounding friends. His fingers added to the length, but the way the muscles made his hand look like a piece of art was something you’d never noticed about anyone else. Then, he’d glance over at you staring at his hands, curiosity getting the better of him. He noticed the way your eyes were half lidded, almost as if you were in a daze. 

“Y/n?” He felt his mouth say your name, but he didn’t mean to say it so loud. Now everyone was staring at the two of you. Your attention was now on his eyes, how vibrant they looked in the sun. A mix of red and yellow haze. 

“Yes?” You smile innocently, like you weren’t just thinking mostly devious thoughts about your friend’s hands. He glances at the small crowd and then back to you. 

“Would you like to come with me to get some snacks for everyone?” He gets up to stand, stretching out his arms in front of you. Was he always this built? 

“Uhh…” Your brain stops working as he smiles at you, a smile that lit up places that weren’t usually supposed to feel this way. “Sure…” You finally reply. His smile grows as he starts to walk toward the inner hallways of the building. You follow silently behind him, observing the way his stride was longer than yours. He suddenly stops and you nearly walk into his back. 

“Y/n.” He states firmly, turning to look at you. You’re confused now. What could he want?

“Yes?” You watch as he lifts his hand in front of your face. 

“Why were you staring at my hands so much?” He questions. You blink, then blink again. Huh? He noticed? Fuck.

“Well, uh, heh.” You glance to either side, wondering if you should just book it away from him. He almost seems to sense what you’re thinking of because he closes the distance between you. “What are you-?”

“I bet you I can take a guess.” He whispers. You furrow your brows, shaking your head slightly. He couldn’t possibly-no, he can’t know what you were thinking of. Right? You laugh awkwardly, trying to cover up how hot your body was getting. 

“You don’t need to do that-”

“You, y/n, are very vulgar.” He studies his fingers one by one and then moves his middle and ring finger down, meeting your gaze over his knuckles. A small gasp escapes your lips. “Do you want to tell me specifics, or should I make up my own story?” He smirks, stepping even closer to you. 

“Kyojuro…” At first you want to deny him the pleasure, but did you also want to deny yourself? “Meet me at my place later, then I’ll tell you exactly what to do.” 

“As you wish, temptress.”

THE WAY U WRITE GOJO MAKES ME NEED MORE OMG

MWAHAHAHAHAHAH LITTLE DID YOU KNOW THAT GOJO IS THE FIRST ONE I THINK ABOUT WHEN THINKING UP A FIC IDEA AND I HAVE TO REMIND MYSELF THAT THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE I CAN CHOOSE FROM >:( IT'S SUCH A STRUGGLE

-I have too many fic ideas for him, dw, they'll be on the way since some of them are on the shorter side :) <3

Half Blood | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, TW! YN does get assaulted, mentions of blood, drinking blood, gore, how many times do I mention claws? Oral fem!receiving, fingering, kissing, breeding kink, virgin sex, creampie, and overstimulation.

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: guys this started off as a quick break from a Sanemi fic I'm working on (keep in mind I think short fics are no longer than 3k) and here I am... with a way longer fic than I intended and something I actually want to expand on in the future. It was a lot of fun to write this so I hope you enjoy it <3

“You,” His pink irises are illuminated by the moon high in the night sky. The blood within your body cools as you stare back at the man who stored your fate. His inky black hair flows down his shoulder in waves. A deep blue yukata loosely hung on his frame. “I’ve been watching you.” Muzan growls, edging ever closer to where you stood. His pointed canines glinted in the light, his nails sharp and ready to claw at your jugular. The demon king rolls his tongue along the tips of his teeth, studying you carefully. Was he deciding whether or not to feast upon your flesh?

He had never seen such a creature as yourself. Your skin was glowing, soft, and supple. The lavender color yukata covered most of your body, a delicate pattern of white flowers spanning the kosode fabric. Your obi was white with purple vines flowing around it. You wear simple white tabies paired with purple strapped zori. Elegance and grace radiated from you. He could smell the wisteria perfume in your hair. 

It was strange, you were a confrontation to the world he wanted to live in – yet something he could not tear his eyes away from. Here you were, standing in front of him without fear. He rather thought it would be better fun if you were afraid, he did so enjoy the chase. Though, there was – of course – a reason you relented in running away from him. Your eyes were stormy, eclipsed by thousands of emotions. That’s when a different smell, that had not yet hit him, tickled his nose. Blood, and not just any blood. You had the blood of a demon in you. Your stern, furrowed brows, with the revolting smell of wisteria burning his nose. You confused him. “What are you?” He purs out, not sure if what would come out of your mouth would be a lie or truth. He could always figure it out for himself one way or another. 

Your lip ticks, a show of annoyance you’d yet to master. The man in front of you knew, he could smell it, of that you were sure. Yet, he dared ask. What are you? You’d been told many times what you were. An abomination. A curse. A monster. “Are you not the demon king?” You spit back, growing angry. Would the other half of you reject your existence as well? You had hoped at least the demons would have the scarce bit of comradery running through their systems. Muzan’s brows lift, then knit together. Did he need to answer you? After all, he could easily swipe at your neck to kill you for being so insolent. The eager need to hear what you had to say captivated him though. 

When the man does not answer you tut, crossing your arms over your chest. “Here I thought the mighty demon king would be able to tell me apart from the rest.” You shake your head, laughing stiffly into the night. In a flash Muzan has you pinned to the trunk of a tree. Splinters etch toward your face from the very force of his hand. His muscular body cages you in and it takes you a moment to realize how your body aches to be near him. 

“I can smell you,” He mutters, squinting his beautiful eyes like he couldn’t quite distinguish what he was looking at. “You assault my senses, it’s driving me mad. There’s something different about you.” Muzan had first observed you walking in your village one evening, the way people sneered and cowered at your presence intrigued him. He found himself looking for you every night, wondering what your story was. These villagers were shunning you. He wished to know why such a pretty thing as yourself would be outcasted in her own village. “You smell like me, yet you are not. So I ask you again, what are you?” His voice is low, edging on the precipice of anger. 

You do not yield in holding his gaze. “I am you, yet I am not. Born of the sun and moon. A half-blood.” 20 years ago your mother found herself in the entertainment district, serving the pleasures of others. A man came to visit her on multiple occasions. Eventually, the two ran away together. Sharing in love and secrets. Your mother was a demon and your father a local carpenter. How you were able to be conceived was a mystery, even to them. They lived in peace, until one night. The villagers had finally seen through your father’s lies, storming their house. They slaughtered both of them and assuming you were a child taken captive, they whisked you away to a widowed mother. As you grew it was obvious where your origins lay, yet no one in the village dared to lay a hand on you. 

Muzan lets his gaze drop to where your heart pulsed, bouncing the skin of your jugular. “You are human and demon?” Something pulled tight in his chest. Could you walk in the sun? Did you regenerate? Were you the answer to his plight? “You are radiant.” He cannot stop the words from falling past his lips. Your eyes light up with recognition, acceptance, and for a moment your past falls away. He had the ever-growing urge to sweep you away. Your very existence was tantalizing to him in the least. He tilts his head, wrinkling his nose at the obscure way you smelt. 

Your eyes settle on the way he reacts to you, wondering if he’ll take you away someplace. Some place away from these villagers who had slaughtered your parents who just wanted to live in harmony. They did not deserve to die and you did not want to live one more second with their murderers. Muzan wanted to take you, but he couldn’t. Not yet. You were so fragile. If he were to touch you he would fear you would break on the spot. “Are you going to take me away from this place?” You whisper, hopeful tones floating to Muzan. He swallows something deep and thick. 

Muzan backs away from you, eyes tensing. “No.” He replies softly. He could not take you into his den, the other demons were too stupid to realize how precious you were. You would be dead within seconds. The line between your brows hardens again as his words hit you. 

“No? Why not? Am I not good enough for you?” Your voice is rising. You sound like a whining child who hasn’t gotten their way. Muzan winces at the obvious pain seeping into your voice. You were nothing like he’d ever seen before. Something beautiful, a miracle in his eyes. Therefore, he did not answer you. He simply faded back into the shadows. With his disappearance, your hopes and dreams faded as well.

—

The next time you see Muzan is two years later. His hair is shorter than you last saw it, the curls kissing the nape of his neck. This neat look couldn’t contain the loose curls that framed his face. A starched white collar shirt was tucked into an ornate waistcoat. He looked utterly different, yet he was your Muzan. He had the same eyes, the same far-off look, and on top of that, you could practically taste his scent. It was overwhelming, crushing even, but in a way, you enjoyed the rush. 

It was also a fact that you had escaped your village after one of the men tried to see how strong a half-blood was. He told you he was turned on by how revolting you were and he would take you as his wife in duty only. Until then you had never seriously thought about killing a human. The realization was both terrifying and freeing. So you fled to the entertainment district, living off of what you could at the Kyogoku House. There were so many smells here. Food, humans, sex, and demons. 

You worked under a beautiful oiran, and you could tell… she wasn’t human. Part of you wanted to become friends with her, but if she hadn’t reached out for the sake of commonality, you didn’t think there was a chance of any other relationship than servant. 

Muzan’s brows furrowed. He had come to visit Daki and yet your scent prosecuted his brain. Ever since he left you in the forest that day he had been thinking of a way to retrieve you. You were too precious to let out of his sight again. This time he would secure you. He could feel his blood boil at the thought of you living in the Ukiyo. Kyogoku House was well protected, but anywhere without him wasn’t safe for you. Were you being used by men far beneath you? Muzan had never felt such rage toward the thought of men touching a woman. He often indulged in watching, humans were ever so entertaining – but you weren’t human. You were one of his and he swallowed harshly at the fact that you weren’t only his. 

He brushes past some of the lower-ranking courtesans, his eye twitching at their giggles. You watch from afar, the familiarity of his back etching a cold ache into your heart. He would leave again, of that you were sure. You hug the fresh sheets to your chest, making your way to the linen closet down the hall. “Ah, YN, I’ve been looking for you.” The Okaasan Omitsu stands before you. She has a cunning sneer behind the kind smile she wears. 

You bow, storing the sheets away before turning your full attention to her. “Yes Okaasan?” You can smell the evil intent behind this woman, it makes your stomach sink. 

“You wouldn’t mind doing me a favor would you?” She uses the word favor like you’d have a choice. She is the Okaasan after all. It’s like she thinks you’re some stupid girl that will follow whatever she says. Using the word favor is a manipulation tactic and if you were a naive girl, you would be eating out of the palm of her hand. 

You tilt your head to the left, plastering a fake smile of your own onto your lips. You knew anything out of your mouth except ‘yes Okaasan’ would make things harder for yourself. So with all your better judgment pushed aside, you say exactly that. 

Her eyes gleam. “Thank you, my dear. If you will kindly follow me.” She walks back up the hall, toward one of the private Ozashiki rooms. You glance around, nerves settling into your bones. You couldn’t be headed into one of these rooms, you weren’t even a kamuro. You were just an older shinzō. 

She stops in front of the panel, a cruel smile lifting the corners of her mouth. No, please, not this. “You are very blessed my dear, one of our chūsan is interested in you.” She slides the door aside and sitting against a wall smoking a pipe is a middle-aged man. Cushions are scattered around the floor and a twisted smirk plays with his mouth when he sees you. Okaasan bows then slides the door shut behind you. 

The room was stifling, the smoke choking out any of the senses you had. It was dizzying. “Mmm, you’re a lot older than I thought.” The man sneers, setting his pipe down. The fog of opium seemingly wraps around your throat, making it hard to breathe. “But you’ll do.” He laughs, patting the cushion next to him. “Why don’t you come a little closer?” He offers. Your body tenses. You were in danger, of that you were sure. You were not willing to give your virginity up to such a man but if you denied him the right to your own body, there would be outrage. You swallow, tentatively kneeling on the cushion next to him. 

He leans over you, sniffing the area around your shoulder. You stiffen. “You smell so good, better than all those flora bitches.” He growls. “I like your natural…musk.” Oh Gods did this man – who probably has a wife and children – just compliment how you smell when you’ve been working all day? “What do you like about me?” What a loaded question. 

You smile, one that shuts your eyes – if he saw the look in your eyes he’d be sure to know you were lying when you said, “I appreciate your generosity.” You bow your head and the man laughs heartily. 

His tongue darts out to coat his lips. “I can be more generous if you’d like?” He moves himself closer to you. “I was blessed with wealth, good looks, and a tool to make women scream.” Please let the tool be an ice pick so you can lobotomize yourself. “Whad’ya say, darling?” He coos, going in for what appears to be a kiss even though you hadn’t been given the time to answer him. 

You grimace away from his advance, shoving at his chest. The eerie playful tone in the room suddenly seems to vacuum out. The fog is still thick from the burning opium, but you don’t miss the way the man before you lunges for you. He’s panting above you with a charming pointy sneer. “Ah ah ah, not so fast. You haven’t serviced me, whore.” He digs his nails into your shoulder, pinning you to the wooden floor. “Look at you, begging for my cock with your eyes, ooohh you want it that bad you slut?” He hisses, fumbling with the buckle of his Western-style pants. You squirm wildly under his grasp but it’s like he’s infused with superhuman strength. “I’m gonna fuck you and then, as your reward,” His face is next to yours now, eyes glowing an electric yellow, pupils in slits. “I’m going to kill you.” His hand is on your throat, crushing your windpipe. You choke on what little air you were able to breathe earlier. 

A demon, this man was a demon. One of your kind. No… he wasn’t. He was something else. He was driven by the carnal desire to fuck and kill. You were too weak to push him off, your internal forces constantly warring against each other. You had always presented as human, meek, malleable, and obedient. What you would give to have your demon side come forth, bite this fucker’s head off. You want to scream – but on account of his claws sinking into the back of your neck – if you even moved that would surely be the end of your life. 

He tears your yukata to shreds, ripping the soft skin of your stomach open as well. Your mouth opens the pressure of a scream pushing against his hand. Blood mixes with the tattered cloth, the cotton dying red.

Muzan pauses, Daki grumbling about some inferior human drama. His eyes search the room, this time Daki taking notice from her self-indulged rant. Where was that smell coming from? He stands, silencing Daki before she can start whining again. The potent smell of blood was swirling to the top floor, but not just…any blood. “YN,” He hisses, the annoyance, rage, and blood-boiling sensations he felt earlier returning tenfold. Why were you bleeding? This was fresh cut blood, not from the dues women endured every month. He needed to find you, or he feared the worst. “I need to go.” He barely says to the demon next to him. Her face morphs into one of anger, and before she can hurl anything at him, Muzan slips out of her room. Where were you? He follows the pungent scent, clambering down the stairs and rushing down the hall until he’s in front of a private room. He’s sweating, for once fear is humming in his ear. He shoves the door to the side, witnessing a demon hunched over your body. 

Your blood is pooling around you dying the wonderfully blue yukata you wore earlier a sickly brown color. The demon doesn’t have time to look up because Muzan is already crushing its head, slashing its throat to shreds of what it once was. 

The room is covered in blood but the demon is dead. Muzan slides to the floor, cradling you in his lap. “YN, no, no please don’t die.” You were his miracle. You were his hope. If anything could save his damned soul it would be you. His arms are trembling as your stomach bleeds out, the skin marred, and…God the smell of your blood was driving him mad. It was something he shouldn’t be thinking about as you bleed out under him. You needed to regenerate. He wasn’t sure if you could so maybe your demon just needed a little push?

With his free hand, Muzan tears the flesh from his arm, bringing it down to your mouth. His blood trickles onto your lips, sliding into your mouth. After a few silent beats, your eyes shoot open. Muzan has never felt such joy as this very moment. Your arms wrap around his, bringing it into your mouth. Muzan hisses at the way your tongue dances around his wound, lapping up the blood he shed for you. You’re panting, gasping for more. Your eyes glow as you drag your tongue up the muscle of his forearm. His blood flows through you like your own life force, strengthening your nerves, hardening your muscles. He has made you stronger. 

It sends a pinch of desire through Muzan. He hadn’t felt the heat of wanting to sink his cock into the warmth of a cunt in decades. You were mouthing at his arm, wounds healed on both ends, but now that you were moving the once whole yukata falls off your shoulders. Blood trails from your lips down your chest, between your breasts. Muzan was never one to fend off his desire to want. He took whatever he wanted, without a care. He wanted to take you without a care. Fuck you senseless into the floorboards, claw at you, feed on your blood while you fed on his. It was ecstasy just imagining driving his cock into your pretty tight pussy. 

“I should’ve never left you.” He whispers and it sends a rolling wave of want through you. You move to straddle his lap. 

“Then don’t leave me now.” You could both smell it, the heat and arousal in the air. “Take me, my Lord.” He smirks, holding onto your thighs. 

He hums, enjoying the way you’re bare in front of him. You were a sight to behold. “Mmm, such a smart girl.” A portal opens underneath him, the wooden floor sinking into an expanse of rooms, platforms, doors, lights, and endless corridors. The sheer speed whips your hair around your face until – it doesn’t. You’ve stopped in the middle of whatever this place was. “Welcome home,” Muzan’s pink eyes darken to a deep crimson as he sits up straighter, pressing himself into you. You moan in delight as his hands work their way up your hips, sitting you down on the stiff part of his lap. 

You tilt your head, peeking at him. “I’ve never liked pants,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his. He chuckles his smirk growing. 

“And why is that?” He inquires, moving his tongue to lick up the blood that has traveled toward your navel. You choke out a moan as he makes his way between your breasts. You can feel his teeth against your skin and it’s a wretched thought. “Aheh,” He swipes at the crest of your breast. 

“H-hard to get off.” Muzan hums against your skin in agreement, but he’s too preoccupied with the way you tremble with untapped pleasure. 

He wants to tear into your flesh, mark you as his, burn only his name onto your tongue. “Such an eager kitten,” He licks his lips, capturing the back of your neck in his hands. “You want me bare that badly?” All you can manage is a small nod as he gingerly moves you so that you’re laying down. Your hips are still lined up with his as he gazes at you. “I can promise you I have a similar urgency.” He grins, pulling the belt from his breeches with a smooth movement. He tosses it to the side, but doesn’t make any more movements to pull his pants down. Muzan notices your heated gaze pointed toward his hardened groin. 

Did you know nothing about the workings between a man and woman? His eyes trail down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. He wraps his arms around the bend of your knee, smirking when your eyes widen in surprise. He tugs you upwards, to where your legs are over his shoulders. Being this close to your glistening pink cunt made his groin stiffen even more, if that was possible. The smell of you was intoxicating. He couldn’t help himself. “What a fucking view.” He growls. 

Muzan buries his head between your thighs, latching his mouth onto your swelling clit. You gasp in pleasure, breaths turning into ragged moans as he plunges his tongue deeper into you. “O-oh my God, f’ck, ngh.” With the way his tongue his twisting and sucking inside of you, breathing seemed impossible. His claws dig into your outer thigh, scratching red trails to your knees. He devours every bit of you he can reach, crazed by the tangy sweetness of your arousal. Your walls were squeezing around his tongue, heat running through your body. 

Your own hands find your stiff nipples, rolling them around in your fingers. You couldn’t get enough, it was the same feeling you received from drinking his blood. Heat rolling around in your veins as his eyes take in your puffy cunt and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. He maneuvers one hand from under your knee to the one place that was being ignored on you – your entrance. It was like the gate to a shrine and he wanted to worship there for eternity. “Look at how fucking wet your cunt is.” His pointed nails shape into shorter rounder ones, he dare not damage this holy place. Then, without warning, he presses two fingers into you. A yelp echoes across the void of the infinity castle. “Ahhh, shit,” You huff, tensing from the sensation of your pussy being stretched. 

Muzan knew you were a virgin, he would be lying if the fact didn’t make him grow more feral to have you sit on his cock and take his seed deep within you. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you. That was all he could think about while lapping up your wetness. 

The slick from your cunt was sucking his fingers in, a growl rumbling around your clit. This makes you scream out as a shockwave shoots through you. Your thighs are shaking and every once and a while – as Muzan still selfishly fingers you through your climax, sucking on your clit – your body will twitch. Heavy and heady moans fall from your lips, breaking into whines as you come down from your high. 

“You did such a good job my sweet,” Muzan lowers you gently back to the floor. Your neck is sore from being at an awkward angle for so long, but you would give anything to see the disheveled man before you with your arousal still on his lips. “That’s it. Prefect. You’re so perfect.” He mutters, licking his lips and watching you still play with your nipples. 

Though you feel like you’ve just ascended, you crave more. You want Muzan to breed you like his own personal slut. “M-more,” You gasp. “I feel so empty my Lord.” You huff, the edges of your voice bleeding to a whine. Muzan’s eyes widen. He hadn’t intended to fuck you just yet. Give you some time to grow accustomed to sexual things so it wasn’t rushed, but your eyes are pleading him to continue. He’s… nervous, which isn’t like the demon king. He’s so eager to please you. Make sure you’re comfortable. He wants to give you hell, heaven, and the earth. 

“You’re practically begging me.” He chuckles, unsure if you really knew what you were asking. There was no way that once Muzan slid into your heady cunt that he would not ravish you. There was no way to tell time in the infinity castle, so there was no way for him to know when to stop until he was satisfied. You squirm to get closer to him, spreading your legs wide for him. His gaze drops from yours to your center, whatever shred of humanity that was left in him suddenly flying away. “Such a filthy slut. You’re already hungry for more? You want me to fill you up? Then beg for it.” His eyes narrow into slits, the magma growing in his belly. 

Your body cools with a shiver of excitement, as you reach down in between your thighs. You purse your lips and then spread your labia apart. The cool air tickles the sticky wetness but you can tell it’s doing something for him. “Please, my King, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think. I want you to take my virgin pussy and make it yours.” 

The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. “As you wish my Queen.” He frees his cock and you have to take a moment to gulp at the sheer size of it. The head is leaking precum and bruised a red color from the lack of release. The shaft is a pale pink, a thick vein running down the underside. The muscles of his hips also catch your attention. They were unlike the drawings some of the courtesans had shown you. His were muscular, ready to thrust into you for hours. 

Muzan lines himself up at your entrance, this time with the head of his cock. The idea was thrilling, finally pushing into your pussy and breaking the barrier of your womanhood. He hisses as your slick coats him, making it easy enough to start entering you. Your face contorts with a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Shhh, you can take it.” You want to wiggle away from him, the pain of his member stretching you out is enough to break you. “Ah ah ah, you’re not going anywhere pretty girl. Remember you asked for this.” Muzan leans over you seizing your mouth with his own. You share a leisurely kiss as he swallows your moans. 

He feels the head of his cock hit your hymen and with a wince he thrusts past it. He can feel the rush of silky blood around his cock, but he tries his best to divert your attention with heated kisses. You break free, a long drawn out moan gasping out of you. “Ahhh, oh my, hngh nngh yes!” 

Muzan nuzzles into your neck, the feeling of your walls clenching around him driving him practically insane. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am. Tell me how good I am at fucking you.” He hisses out, desperate for your compliments and approval. 

“Nnnggh, s’good, f’ckin’ me s’good.” You slur, drunk on how he guided a new path into you. You pant and writhe under him, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Not yet my love, I want you to watch.” He starts to move his hips and you wince in burning pleasure. “That’s it. You’re doing so good.” He grunts, snapping his hips back into you. The wet slap of skin hitting skin sends shivers down your back. 

You’re straining against the build up in your stomach, a pit of coils wanting to spring forth. “Mmm, harder.” You huff, reach out to grab the back of his neck. He shakes his head, a playful smirk on his swollen lips. 

“Use your manners.” He teases, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Please fuck me harder.” You mewl just as he starts to thrust into you with a quickened rhythm. Your breath is sucked away by the pure bliss aching from the friction. 

Muzan bites down on his lip, brushing a few curls that had come free from behind his ear. “You like it when I do that?” He quizzes, fucking you harder. You can only manage a nod.

Your voice has grown hoarse from moans breaking into screams and whines. You buck your hips along with his as you arch your back, tumbling over your peak. “F’ck, haa haa hnngh,” You squeeze his cock and release his neck, breathless from your second orgasm. 

“Cum all over my cock, fuck,” Muzan growls, the feeling of your slick cum coating his length. He was gliding into you with such ease. He would apologize to you later for this. He pounds into your sensitive cunt, overstimulating you as you cry out. He rams himself into you and stays deep within your pussy. Panting heavily Muzan finally crashes over his own wave of pleasure. Splurting his cum around the walls of your pussy. He doesn’t want to pull out – for one fact he wanted all of his cum to stay within you – and for another fact, you were all the salvation he needed. He could find redemption with you. He rolls you both onto your side, hiking your leg over his hip to make sure he can stay inside of you. 

This was it, you had driven him to the edge and he would make sure to never let anything else touch you. As he gazes upon your soft features drifting off to a satisfied slumber he feels what once was his heart ache. “We should get married.” He blurts out.

Fluttering Fluster| Demon Akaza

Synopsis: Akaza has taken an interest in you since you don't appear to be scared of him. You're actually kind of fond of him yourself. He doesn't know what to do around you since you always have something flirty or sarcastic to say. He's constantly flustered and he can't help himself after saving you from a demon attack.

Warning/contains: friendship, killing (a demon), kissing, hitting it from the back, yeanring, bratty YN, confused and flustered Akaza, mostly top Akaza, flirting, cuddles, mentions of fear of lonliness (me too), slight implication that Akaza has already killed Rengoku

Word count: 4.3k

a/n: I wrote this in a day. What does that say about the quality? Well, hehehe, I'm not sure :) My lil basketball needed some love, even though I wouldn't accept any donuts from him, it's FINE, everything is FINE. Guys I need sleep, my sleep schedule went out to get the milk...time to drink water right before bed as I watch Minecraft videos.

The darkness from the dense forest outside your house fills the cabin with a loud silence. You could almost hear your heart pumping blood through your body as you went about making dinner for yourself. Some steamed greens and grilled meat should make a hearty meal. You hum a tune to yourself, crouching in front of the small grill set up on the dirt part of your floor. The wood crackles and throbs with a deep glowing orange color. You move the meat around in the small pot hanging from a horizontal log supported by sitting snugly in the junctions of two other logs. The rabbit you had caught earlier would prove to go nicely with the vegetables from your garden. Your song continues as you stoke the fire under the pot and then sit on the side of the wooden platform where your heimorn would be rolled out soon enough. A glint of something passes by the window and for a moment your heart pounds assuming the worst before passing it off to be an animal. The village people had filled your head with tales of demons roaming these lands. As if demons would take an interest in a quick bite, though maybe they’d enjoy the soup you were making? You let out a breath and glance back at the meat, wondering how much longer you’d have to wait before eating. You flop back on the wooden floor and groan. Sometimes the most exhausting part of living all alone was the creaking seconds that made downtime nearly unbearable. Sometimes you wish someone would stumble across your home and spend some time with you. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy the break from human society, but the spiders all talked about the same thing. Maybe one of those demons would come to tell you their stories of how they killed their last victims. 

“My, this meat smells almost as good as you do.” A voice notes. You furrow your brows and hoist yourself up to the sitting position. There in your doorway was a shadowed figure. Your eyes graze over the small illuminated parts of him, like the obvious muscles on his arms and legs. Even in the dim flickering light, you could make out how defined he was. His face was dark and you couldn’t make out much of his features, but that’s when you noticed the thick dark lines trailing his body like some wild tiger. Though, one thing was bothering you.

“I smell?” You tilt your head in a questioning manner. The head of what you were assuming was a man in front of you twitches slightly.

“What?” His voice is strained and you twiddle with your thumbs while observing your meat to make sure it wouldn’t burn while you had this conversation. 

“You said I smell.” You answer frankly, looking down at your pink yukata and pinching it with your fingers to take a sniff. 

“I-” You look up to see the man had turned away from you. He briskly turns back around and enters your home more. This causes his face to cast away the shadows and finally be observed by your eyes. The black lines continue the same pattern on his face with the exception of one long one from the top of his forehead down the bridge of his nose, but what takes you by surprise is that…his…hair…matches your yukata almost exactly. “Aren’t you afraid of me?” He grumbles, his face twisting in a way that makes you more interested in what trauma he’d obviously been through than him being…frightening? 

“No…?” You shrug and look at the rabbit cooking in the pot again, it appeared almost ready to be taken off the heat and set aside to simmer in the broth. 

“No one could hear you scream out here.” He suddenly says. You furrow your brows and look up at him through your lashes. 

“Yeah. I know.” His face looks dumbfounded as you continue to pay no mind to him. Your meal was more important than your life at the moment. 

“So you don’t care if I make you scream?” The man’s words were more curious than threatening. Maybe this was his first time talking to a lady? Did he not get out much? Poor thing. It’s best if you prepare him for how ladies are sure to act around his beautiful face. 

“Oh no, I’d really appreciate it if you made me scream.” Your lips curl up into a smile and the man in front of you takes a step back. 

“Somehow I feel like we’re not talking about the same thing…” He frowns and your smile only grows. You carefully use another piece of wood to unhook the pot from the fire and set it gently off to the side in the dirt. 

“We could be. Why don’t you tell me your name?” You offer, standing from your position. The man is a little shorter than you and you bite back a giggle at that surprising fact. He narrows his eyes at you but then lets out a loud sigh. This was fun. You should socialize more often. 

“Akaza.” He mumbles. You smile at the sound of his name ringing through your head. It was like the sound of a beating heart. 

“A-ka-za.” You hit each syllable in awe of how a name could be so fitting to a human. A human with strange eyes no less. You observe his face and find it flushing slightly. “What’s the matter with you?” You quiz with furrowed brows. 

“Y-Y-You just, don’t…don’t say my name like that please…” He avoids looking at you, backing up almost to the point of exiting your house. 

“Why?” You inquire, stepping closer to him. Akaza groans and holds up his hand in front of your face. You stop in your tracks, blinking rapidly at the hand in front of you. 

“Stop. Why aren’t you afraid of me?” His eyes narrow at you and for a moment you see the faintest glimmer of something sharp in his mouth. 

“Why would I be?” You scrunch your face up in confusion and look around him expecting someone or something else scarier to be behind him. He scoffs and gestures to himself with the same hand he held in front of you. 

“I am Akaza.” 

“Yes I know.”

“Let me finish.” He glares at you. You hold up your hands in innocence and gesture for him to continue. “I am Akaza, Upper Moon 3.” He points to his eyes and for the first time during this conversation, you realize why they looked so different. Written there on his yellow eyes were the kanji for ‘upper’ and ‘three’. You tilt your head to study them further. 

“Upper…what now? What do you mean? Did you get your pink hair from the moon?” You wonder aloud. Akaza’s eyes widen slightly and he then rolls them. 

“What? No. I’m a high-ranking demon and I could kill you within seconds.” He states. A cooling chill runs through your body, but you remain calm. If he wanted to kill you, he would’ve already. So why was he here? And demons were real? Now that’s something you wish your mother was still alive to see. “Are you scared now?” He asks, stepping closer to you. You shrug.

“Eh, not really.” You reply. He stops advancing and his face goes blank. You have to stop from laughing at the look on his face.

“Why not?” He looks concerned, like if he’s not scary enough his mom is going to give him the ‘I’m disappointed’ look. 

“I think it's the pink hair and long lashes.” You observe, pointing at his face. “You’re too pretty to be scary.” 

“Wah, really?” He reaches up with his blackened fingers and touches his hair and then cheek gently. His fingers looked pretty long compared to your own. Now that you were really looking at him, the black lines were everywhere, even on his bear feet. They were similar to that of the ones on his fingertips, only enclosing the toes. He wore an anklet on each ankle made up of round pink beads. His white pants were held up by a blue rope with two pink tassles coming off around the front. His calves seemed unmarked by the lines and you wondered how far they really did travel. His chest was unclothed, except for a small dark pink jacket around his shoulders. The lines on his chest were geometrically pleasing with the way they all lines up. Similarly to his face, there was one line that connected to one that went around his neck to mid-way down his abdomen. It was a few inches shy of his belly button. Ah, so demons still have those. What else did demons share with humans?

“Besides, if you wanted to kill me, you would’ve already.” Your gaze meets his and his expression turns hard. He briskly closes the distance between you and pushes you up against the platform so hard that your legs give out and you fall backward. You hit the ground with a loud oomph and wince. You feel a weight on you and peer upwards to find Akaza pining you to the ground with his leg in between your thighs, pressing down on the fabric of your yukata. He’s baring his teeth, his insanely sharp teeth close to your neck. 

“You’re right human, I could eat you up right now.” His breath is hot on your neck and it makes you squirm under him. He pushes off of you with a little more force than need be and stands over you now. “But I won’t.” You let out a breath, unaware of how nervous you were that he’d bite into your neck. Although the throbbing lower down was proving for a confusing conversation with yourself later on. 

“Why?” You pant out, curious why this seemingly all-powerful demon would let you go. You sit up, draping your legs over the side of the wooden platform as you had done before. He presses his lips into a thin line and looks away from you. 

“Because I don’t eat your kind.” He huffs. Your face morphs into perplexion 

“Stinky?” You offer. He scoffs and shakes his head. 

“No. Women.” He corrects. “Please fix your yukata.” He mumbles. You look down at your chest and find one side draping over your shoulder, almost exposing your bare chest. You smile and pull it haphazardly onto your shoulder again. 

“Then why did you come here?” You ponder for him to hear. He looks off into the distance like he’s remembering something. 

“I…I was lonely.” He whispers. This makes your whole body warm with understanding. Lonely. A word you knew all too well. One that was your only companion at times. 

“Big boss demon fire all your friends?” Akaza grimaces and his fists clench. 

“I don’t have friends in the upper moon ranks,” He pauses and shuts his eyes a if trying to calm down. “Only annoyances.” He mutters. Your heart beats faster as you feel some sort of kinship with this supposedly scary monster. 

“Well, pardon me if I’m being too bold, but we could always be friends.” You suggest, gesturing between the both of you. His eyes shoot open and he stares at you. 

“Do you…do you really mean that?” He takes a step toward you and reaches out a tentative hand. 

“No, how could I ever possibly be friends with a demon? Of course, I meant it.” You’re take aback by the sudden warmth from his hand on your cheek. It sends a burning heat running through your body. Blooming in your stomach with a desire for his warmth to cover you, burn you, incinerate you. 

“You have such a funny way with words.” His brows slowly furrow down as he stares at you. “It makes me want to find out everything about you.” He then brushes a lock of hair that had fallen free behind your ear. You feel that heat round to your cheeks and you move your face away from his hand so he won’t be able to feel the way your cheeks are burning. 

“Ha, there’s not much that’s interesting about me.” You reply, shifting your body to sit more comfortably. Akaza drops his hand and looks down at the pot you’d set aside earlier. 

“You should probably eat your meal before it gets cold.” He bows his head to you and turns toward your open door. Was he going to leave already? But he just got here. 

“Wait!” You reach out your hand and Akaza turns to look at you with raised brows. What were you supposed to say to convince him to stay a little longer? He was a high-ranking demon, someone important, you were just a woman he happened to find because he was lonely. 

“Yes?” He faces fully toward you, waiting patiently for your words.

“Do you…” You gulp and look around for some sort of idea. Ah, you could tease him again. Then he’d want to talk to you about what you meant. If your mama taught you anything it was how to hold an uncomfortably long conversation. “Do you still want to make me scream?” You ask, leaning forward toward him. This causes your yukata to fall off your shoulder again and Akaza’s eyes are drawn to your rosy bear skin. He blinks a couple of times before looking back into your eyes. 

“What could you possibly mean by that?” He looks concerned. You tilt your head and feel your hair brush against your shoulders as it falls to the side. 

“I could scream your name Ak-a-za.” You whisper his name like it’s a dirty word. His brows flinch as he looks upon your seductive state. 

“I-I told you I don’t kill women.” He stutters, eyes wildly looking around you for answers. You smile and bat your lashes, swinging your head to the other side, allowing a full view of the slope of your neck. You notice Akaza’s fist clench at the sight. 

“I didn’t mean that you should kill me. I only meant you should share pleasures beyond imagination with me so that I scream out your name because it’ll be the only thing I can think of.” You explain, waving a hand around in the air as if that will conjure up an image for him to watch. Akaza shuts his eyes and his jaw ticks. It was funny to watch his restraint falter. 

“You can’t possibly mean that.” He grunts. His eyes are still glued shut and so you hum in response. 

“Oh, I do. I always mean what I say Akaza.” He lets out a low sigh and opens his eyes to gaze upon you shining in half moonlight half firelight. 

“You’re quite the vixen.” His eyes roll down the slope of your neck and curve around your shoulder. They dip to where the line of cleavage is slightly showing. 

“What can I say? The nights get lonely.” You were hoping by tossing around the same feeling he’d confessed to you that he’d empathize with you. If demons were even still capable of empathizing. Akaza’s eyes soften and he sucks in a deep breath. 

“I could stay for a little longer I guess.” He conceded. You grin happily and then raise your brows suggestively.

“Do you want to have-”

“No.”

“Aww but why?”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s YN.” 

Over the course of the next few months, Akaza came to visit you as the weather got colder. Seeing him appear over the hill sent a thrill of excitement through your entire body. Every time that pointed-tooth grin caught your eye you felt alive again. Though, it’d been almost 2 months since Akaza’s last visit and you were starting to worry. The last time you ventured into the village for a couple of new blankets for the winter you heard talk of the great hashira defending the innocent from Lord Muzan’s Kisaki. Your heart was torn. You wanted to pray for those who’d lost their lives to evil demons, but Akaza wasn’t like other demons. He was smart, kind, sexy, and certainly not evil. The reason he hadn’t come to see you in so long surely couldn’t be because he’s… no you couldn’t even think of such a thing. 

You roll out your mattress and fluff out the covers you’d bought a few days prior. At least if you didn’t have Akaza to warm your side you’d have these plush covers. Comfortable bedding would never leave you alone for 2 months. It’d always stay by your side. You lay out the blankets to the side and crawl onto the thin mattress. The light from your lantern flickers softly, casting a shadow against your closed door. You were certain that your dreams would be filled with a pink-haired demon. You pull the covers over your frame and sigh in happiness. You’re about to blow out your light when the front door suddenly slams open. You startle as a heaving form appears in the doorframe. You clutch your chest as it stalks forward, its tongue was sickeningly long as it lapped at the air around you. 

“Human you smell delicious.” It hisses, crouching down onto its haunches. Your face sneers in disgust as you watch it cock its head to the left, tongue hanging out its mouth framed by sharp teeth that glinted slimy in the moonlight. 

“Thanks but I’ve been told that before.” You spat, tightening your grip on your new blankets. Its mouth curls into a twisted grin as its head turns upside down. 

“I taste demon in the air.” Its eyes don’t have any writing on them like Akaza’s, but by the looks of it, weak wouldn’t be a word to describe it. “Have you been claimed by one of the twelve kisaki human?” Its movements are jerky as it advances toward you. You scoot back against the wall like that was going to help you escape from such a creature. You were glad it could sense Akaza had been here, maybe that would deter it from killing you. 

“Yes, an upper moon in fact.” You sneer, curling your body away from the demon. His yellow eyes glimmer with newfound excitement. Oh no. The plan may have backfired. 

“Ahhhh, upper moon whores always taste the best. Please let me have just a bite.” His eyes are crazed as he peers upon your flesh. Drool starts to form in the corner of his mouth, landing with a splat on the wooden floor underneath you. “I promise I’ll leave enough for him to fuck later, you just have to-UGHK! AHHHHH PLEASE NO!” It screeches as a hand appears through its chest. “Lord Akaza- EEK-UGH-I’M SORRY!” The demon is flung away from you and out the door. You watch as a shadowy figure, you’re assuming is Akaza, rip the demon apart. You’re glad you can’t see much because of the lack of light, but you can hear it. The yelps of pain from the demon, the sloshing of blood, and grunts from Akaza. He was here… he’d saved you from a gruesome death. You lean forward with bated breath, straining your eyes to find Akaza in the darkness. You jump back as he appears in the doorway. His arms are hanging loosely at his sides, a thick liquid dripping from his fingers. His eyes stay on the ground. 

“Akaza…” You whisper, but his whole body tenses. 

“Don’t look at me YN. I didn’t want you to see me like this.” He looks off to the side and clenches his jaw. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of yearning and sadness. 

“Like what Akaza?” You ask, uncovering yourself and bracing for the cold air to surround your body. Akaza glances at the blankets. 

“A demon.” He hisses and for a moment you hear such deep regret in his voice. Some buried sorrow keeps him from bonding with people. You stand and step down from the platform, Akaza doesn’t budge an inch. You take this as your chance to approach him. You take in a deep breath and place the palm of your hand against his chest. 

“Akaza. I don’t care what you are, only about who you are.” You can feel his heart rapidly beating against his skin. He looks at your hand and then finally into your eyes. 

“I need to go wash my hands.” He edges his head closer to yours. You feel a pull to kiss him as your bodies move into position but then shy away on repeat. “I’ll be right back.” He disappears with unknown speed and you let out a tiny breath. Did he almost kiss you? You’d been thinking about this moment for a long time and it was finally here. He was finally here. “YN…” You look up to find him in your doorway again. 

“Akaza.” He walks into your home and slides the door shut behind him. The cool air is somewhat cut off. 

“I respect women YN.” He rasps. You nod and watch his eyes rack over your blue yukata. His eyes meet yours and you feel a wave of anticipation crash into you. 

“Yes. I remember.” He’s getting closer to you, causing you to back into the platform again. He smirks as you both remember the first night you’d met each other. 

“Please forgive me for what I’m about to do.” He’s in front of you within seconds, pulling your hair back and aggressively kissing you. You groan into his mouth and he bares his teeth against your lips. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He hisses, licking the soft spot on your neck. You wiggle at the sensation and start to pant. 

“Even if you do, it doesn’t make you a monster,” Akaza growls against your neck and nips at the skin he’d been playing with. 

“Pull up your yukata and turn around.” He demands, letting go of your hair. You straighten out your sore neck and do as he ordered. Your cunt is bare for him to study now and he takes his time looking at you. “I didn’t think a human could be so beautiful everywhere.” He grazes the back of your thigh with his fingers and you flinch. You squirm and start to whine. 

“Please Akaza, I need your cock in my pussy. I can’t wait any longer.” You whimper, needy for his attention. Akaza grips your hips tightly as he pulls you back where your feet are planted in the dirt, knees resting against the ledge of the wooden platform. 

“Never imagined you’d be the one begging.” He chuckles. You wish you could see what he was doing, but you were too nervous if you glanced behind you Akaza would make you wish you hadn’t. “No need though, your pretty cunt was already begging me long before that beautiful mouth spoke.” You feel a warm hand spread your legs apart and then something pokes at your entrance. You bite back a moan as he works his tip into your folds. “I didn’t even have to warm you up YN, you’re already so wet for me.” 

“Shut up,” You groan and duck your head down in embarrassment. Akaza chuckles and thrusts deeper. A yelp sounds from you at the sudden presence of his warm cock burrowed deep inside you. 

“Did me killing that lowly demon turn you on that much?” He teases, sliding out only to slam right back into you. Moans are the only sound you can make at the moment. “You’ve always been a strange case, but for some reason, I can’t get you off my mind.” He confesses. Somehow you feel slightly insulted by his wording. 

“I-I just missed you.” You manage to reply. Akaza pauses for a beat before his grip on your hips tightens. 

“Fuck…” He hisses, pounding into you at incredible speed. The floorboards are creaking as your moans echo throughout your house. 

“Akaza, Akaza, oh my-shit,” You bite down on your finger, but Akaza slams into you.

“Uh uh uh sweetheart. Remember that promise you made? I want you to scream my name.” He pulls your arms behind your back then he rams his cock into you, the slapping noises and both of your moans filling the room. 

“T-too much, ngh,” You plead, he was too good at pleasuring you. More than you thought possible. Your eyes squeeze shut as Akaza reaches around with his free hand to play with your clit. “A-Ak-Akaza!” You cry out, voice shaking so much it cracks into a whine as Akaza slams deep into you and stays there. Your walls flutter around his cock as you see stars from straining so much. A shuddering waterfall of your climax causes your knees to buckle from underneath you. Akaza curls his arm around you and gently lays you on the ground. He pulls out of you and you hear the shuffling of clothes being pulled back on. Then quiet. You don’t have the energy to look up from where you lay on the floor. You were so close to your bed, yet too far. You could totally sleep here, it was fine. Suddenly the house feels like it’s buzzing as a warmth returns. 

“I stole cloth from some laundry and wet it at the stream. Here, let me clean you up.” Akaza moves your yukata out of the way and dabs the wet cloth against your folds. You hum in satisfaction with how wonderful it feels. “I’m finished.” Akaza alerts. You wonder if he’s about to leave again, but you feel his arms underneath you. He lifts you up and sets you down on your mattress. You sprawl out comfortably under your blankets. He lays down on his side with his head propped up by his elbow on the wooden floor. You lift up your blankets sleepily and beckon Akaza to join you. He smirks and shifts under them. 

“You killing that demon was pretty hot.” You mumble as you drift off to sleep. The last thing you hear is Akaza chuckle the warm way he does as you cuddle into his chest. 

Love Bite | Chapter One

Synopsis: "Just because your ancestors were in love doesn't mean you have to be in love with him." "It's not that." "Then what is it?" "It's fate." Great-great niece of Kanroji Mitsuri has just gotten a new job because her best friend's older brother, a descendant of Iguro Obanai, is looking to hire an assistant for his bakery. Airu has to navigate through her strong connection to Inkyo, who seems to be interested in everything except her. He only teases her when they're alone and is bland when with other people. Will she end up like her great-great aunt or finally fulfil those last words said in the arms of the one she loved?

Warnings/contains: DEMON SLAYER SPOILERS!!, fluff, mutual pining, mentions of soulmates, descendants of Obanai and Mitsuri, jealous Obanai

Word Count: 5K

a/n: This a little project I’m working on because I couldn’t live without giving somewhat of a happy ending {new beginning??} to Obanai and Mitsuri. I LOVE them and so “Love Bite” was born, a short story {this is only chapter 1 out of around 10} 

In each other’s arms that’s what I’m told. That’s how my great-great aunt died, in her lover's arms. Is it weird to think that my best friend’s family could have been actually family? Yeah, it is. Though, I’m sure fate has a reason for everything. Such as it just so happened that my best friend’s older brother, mysterious as he is, needs a new hire for his bakery. That’s why I’m here, picking on the skin on my middle finger, hoping the scary Obanai wouldn’t put me through the terror of an interview. I don’t think my mental fortitude could handle that today. Not after my friends insisted on celebrating a night early for my new job. I still haven’t recovered from the alcohol they forced me to practically inject into my veins. 

I was scared to even open the front door to the quaint storefront. Sora had informed me that her brother took Thursdays off and could usually be found working on new recipes and plans in his small office space near the back of the building. 

“Just knock on the door and he should come to see who it is. I told him you’d be stopping by anyway, so he may just leave it unlocked for you.”

My luck wasn’t the best, so I highly doubt the door would be unlocked- With a simple push of my hand the dark wooden door slid open allowing me to be hit with a gust of air conditioning. The inside space was a dimly lit calm ambiance. There were tables tucked away in secluded areas, some out in the open, and plants were absolutely everywhere. There was a sleek wooden nature theme throughout the whole building and I felt like I was transported somewhere else entirely. There was a counter off to the left side of the entry point that housed a display case and an array of decorative items lining the space behind the counter. A sword is displayed proudly behind a glass covering in the center of the shelves that climb the wall. I take a few steps toward it and notice the deep hue of purple that shines off the curved metal. The hilt was a mix of pink and white stripes with a lime green cap on the bottom. It was breathtaking. 

I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass and gasp lightly when I see another figure behind me. I turn around on my heel and come face to face with Obanai. 

“Airu.” He whispers, his eyes flitting around my body. He’s very close. So close I can smell the expensive cologne he’s wearing.

“Nice to see you Inkyo.” I bow my head, nervous to meet his intense gaze. I felt like he could see through anything. Especially how he made my body react. His long dark hair covers his face slightly as he steps closer to me. I feel my heart start to do gymnastics in my chest. Im scared if he gets any closer he’ll be able to either hear or feel it. 

“Your hair is different.” He notes blandly, reaching out a steady hand to swipe it away from my face. He was right. I had cut my long pink and lime green locks to a shorter, more mature bob haircut. I’d kept the bangs though. He fingers it gently and then drops his hand. 

“I like it.” He moves away to move something around on the counter and I try to not let out a loud sigh of relief. 

“Sora told me that you were looking for a new hire?” I decide to say. I’m not sure why I was so keen on working here anyway, I’d probably get super distracted by Inkyo and those damn eyes of his. He stops organizing things and glances at me. 

“Not anymore.” He moves behind the counter and scoots a few things on the shelves over the tiniest bit. He lets out a sigh when he realizes there's dust on his pale fingers. I must’ve had my mouth open or something because his gaze holds mine for a long time now. “What?” He inquires, furrowing his brows slightly. I shake my head and close my mouth. 

“Uh, well I feel like I’ve wasted your time now. I didn’t know you’d filled the position.” I bow my head and feel the urge to leave as quickly as possible but Obanai just shakes his head slowly. His undusty hand reaches up to his mouth as a small smile appears on his lips. 

“No Airu, you are my new hire.” He tilts his head to watch my slow reaction processing the information he’d given me. My mouth falls open again and I slam my hands on the counter and lean in close to him. 

“Really!?” I exclaim. His eyes widen slightly and then soften as he nods. “Oh thank you! When do I start!?” I clasp my hands together and hop excitedly. Money. I needed money. Plus I got to work with the man who I’d thought about for the last several years. 

“Well, I’ll have to give you a list of what happens here daily. What to do when you arrive, when you leave, when you man the counter, and when I’m not here. If you want to come with me up to my place we can discuss the subject of your contract.” He shuffles some things around on the counter absentmindedly again. His place? My everything says yes, but my will says that’s not the best idea. 

“Uh, well,” I try to find the words I’m looking for but draw a blank on all words I’ve learned. Inkyo positions himself in a leaning position against the back shelves, which makes his black button-up shirt clench around his torso. I gulp in, trying not to stare. “Is-Is going up to your place really a good idea?” I avoid eye contact like the plague. I hear him let out a small chuckle and suddenly he’s lifting my chin to look into his golden and blue eyes. 

“Airu Mitsuri what are you thinking about?” His smirk tells me I don’t have to answer that question for him to know. Maybe it was the atmosphere. Maybe it was my crush on him. Though, maybe it was fate trying to fix a travesty and who am I to get in the way of fate?

“Fine, but I get to show you this really cute picture I took of Bean.” I reach for my phone in my pocket and he lets go of my chin. Bean was the black cat I bought when I moved out of my parent’s apartment so I wouldn’t get too lonely. In a way, he reminded me of Inkyo, except Bean was clingy while Inkyo was offputting. If I tried to cuddle with Inkyo he’d probably throw up in his mouth. Not that I was the problem, just physical touch didn’t seem to be his thing. Even though he did just grab my chin… 

“You going to show me or keep dissociating in my bakery?” Inkyo teases, his voice sounding more comfortable with me. I quickly glare at him and then go back to retrieve my phone. I swipe into my gallery and try to hide the number of selfies and random videos that could be found there. I tap on the picture of Bean laying on his back, paws outstretched to the camera. My little baby looked so adorable in this picture I just wanted to gobble him up. Inkyo takes a look at the photo and gives it a smile but nothing else. I’m about to tell him he should be worshipping my baby boy, but he takes his pointer finger and swipes to the next picture. That picture happens to be me in a new black dress I’d ordered online that had a heart cutout on the chest. I’ll be frank, the dress was very short, very revealing, and if Inkyo really wanted to he could observe my pink lace bralette peaking out from the heart. I screech and grab my phone from off the counter. 

“What are you doing!?” I hold my phone to my chest and I catch Inkyo lazily staring at how my arms squeeze them together. “I haven’t even started yet! This is harassment!” I exclaim turning my front away from him. He chuckles again and moves out from behind the counter. 

“Sorry, I got carried away teasing you again. I just wanted to see if you were still as cute when you got flustered.” He brushes past me and walks toward the door. “Shall we move this upstairs so you can start preparing for tomorrow?” He nods his head toward the door and I can feel my face still warm from his pestering. 

“Am I?” I hear myself asking. Inkyo was on his way to leave the building but stops in his tracks. His body shifts toward me again, eyes engulfing me yet again. His massive hands flex by his sides and that god-given shirt exposes how muscular he really is. I take a few steps closer to him, my phone still clutched to my chest. He watches me like a snake about to strike a field mouse. 

“Are you?” He finally repeats like he’s questioning what I was asking. I sigh and shake my head, not courageous enough to ask him if he still thinks I’m cute. I should be happy enough with the fact that he even ever thought I was. I nod toward the door.

“Let’s be on our way boss man.” I walk past him and out the door. He stands near the door for a beat before catching up with me. His long legs cause him to walk a little faster than me, but he makes sure to stay on my right, the roadside of the sidewalk. 

“The stairs to my place are right here.” He points out, guiding me with a hand lightly on the small of my back. I can’t help but think about how people must see this. A young woman and man heading toward an apartment. If they didn’t already think we were together they must think that he and I were about to do something together. I climb the stairs slowly, trying to avoid flashing Inkyo my underwear if my skirt were to blow up. I reach the landing and he quickly enters a code and opens the door for me. “Welcome to my abode.” 

I can feel him watching me as I look around in amazement at his home. There was art everywhere, one, in particular, caught my eye. A regal-looking woman with a lovely kimono draped over her delicate-looking body. Her hair was a dark brown color and her eyes were shut gently. I felt drawn to her like I’d known her somehow or she’d done something extremely courageous for me. 

“Her name is Tamayo.” I feel Inkyo say from behind me. I turn my eyes away from the painting and look up into his. He’s not looking at me, he’s looking at the painting. “She was an incredible woman.” His eyes seem to soften carefully when looking at her. I can’t help but feel a slight pang of jealousy course through my body. I wasn’t a normal-looking girl, even in this day and age. I had bright pink and lime green hair and don’t get me wrong, I loved it. Though, it did attract a lot of attention from people, sometimes not the best. My eyes were almost the same green as in my hair and my pale skin made them stand out like bright lights. Then there was my body, I was a curvaceous girl. The curved blade downstairs didn’t hold a candle to the number of dips and round areas on my body. I was ideal by western beauty standards, but here in the east the amount of food I ate and my body type were looked at with judgment. The one thing that brought me any amount of comfort was my grandmother smiling at me with tears in her eyes when I was 16. 

“Come here Airu.” She whispers softly and beckons me to her side. I walk to where she was sitting on the bench. The sunlight was illuminating her soft features and light green eyes. I sit down next to her, expecting a scolding for how much I’d eaten at the restaurant, but she extends her hand and rubs my cheek softly. 

“Soba?” I question, trying to understand her emotions right now. She was touching me so gently, yet there was an incredibly confused look on her face. She looked sad and happy at the same time. 

“You look so much like her.” She mumbles, her fingers moving to my bright hair. She smiles when she touches it. “I had just been born when I met Kanroji, but I remember her contagious smile and beautiful braided hair.” I tilt my head in confusion. I’d heard that name before in stories my grandma would tell of her great aunt Kanroji Mitsuri, a swordswoman in the 1900s. She weaved stories about demons and a great battle against their Lord. How my great-great aunt had excitedly told my great-grandmother about a man whom she fought with. He was mysterious and more than handsome, she was sure they’d fall in love and get married after the war between dark and sunlight. Though she never got to see the sunlight of the next day, she finally found the love she was looking for in Inkyo’s ancestor. “When I pass I want you to have her nitchiri sword, I think she’d want that too.” Nitchiri? 

“Soba, are you feeling okay?” I ask in the most respectful way I could muster. I was worried this was some weird way for her to tell me she was dying and didn’t have long. My Soba was a source of flowing wisdom, I don’t think I could navigate this world without her. She smiles sadly and pats the top of my head. 

“Don’t worry Ruru chan, I’m not dying just yet. When the time does eventually come though, I want you to know fate has a path for you, but you can also have a path for fate.” 

Soba passed 3 years later and a similar sword to the one downstairs is displayed in my own home. I looked like Kanroji Mitsuri and that was enough for me to know I was going to be just fine. Hell, maybe those genes would get me in good graces with Inkyo. Being attracted to people who looked like me is kind of in his genetics right? 

“Airu? Airu where did you go just now?” Inkyo’s eyes are finally looking into mine and a small shudder runs down my spine. 

“Sorry, just reminiscing about Soba.” I smile, trying to hide the fact that the memory I was recalling led to me hoping he’d be into me based on my looks. 

“Obaasan Mitsuri… she was also an incredible woman.” He presses his lips into a thin line as if trying to stop himself from crying. I lower my brows as I stare up at him. 

“Do you call every woman you know an incredible woman?” I huff, crossing my arms in front of me. Inkyo looks off to the side and scratches the back of his head. I must be mistaken, but it looks like there’s a hint of red on his cheeks. 

“Not all.” He mumbles in response. I puff out my cheeks and lean forward, trying my best to intimidate him. 

“Oh yeah then what do you say about me when you talk about me?” He shuts his eyes and lets out a sigh. Oh no, did I push him too far? He covers his face and turns away from me. “Answer me Inkyo,” I demand. He lets out another breath and turns completely around, now facing the door we’d walked through a couple of minutes prior. 

“Jeez, do I have to fire you just to get you off my case?” He mumbles against his hands. I stand up straight again and grumble a few words about how he’s an asshole and then turn toward his (of course) black couch. I plop myself down on the soft cushions and huffily brush my skirt out over my legs. 

“Fine, then if you’re all business, then let’s get started,” I state plainly, a little hurt he wouldn’t answer me. Inkyo turns on his heel and walks toward me. 

“Well, since we are in my home I feel like it would be rude for me to not offer you something to drink.” He looks over to the steel-accessorized kitchen with the same warm wood as his bakery. I sink into the plush couch and wave my hand dismissively. 

“I’ll be fine with some apple juice if you have it.” Why’d we even have to come up here again? Why couldn’t we sit at one of the tables downstairs? My eyes widen and I watch Inkyo rummage through his stainless steel refrigerator. Oh my goodness…was he…going to murder me? No…surely not. Well, I was a major pain in the ass so it’s plausible. Whatever the reason, I may have been to quick to follow him up here. Damn this lovey-dovey brain of mine. The clink of a glass being set on a coaster in front of me breaks me out of my thoughts. Inkyo’s eyes watch me carefully as he sets himself in a sleek (black again) armchair across from me. He steeples his hands under his chin a serious look on his face. 

“So let’s get down to business.”

ಊ♡ಊ

It’s been about 2 weeks since my meeting with Inkyo Obanai and I had no idea how busy a small bakery on the outskirts of Tokyo could get. 

“Could I get one of those small muffins?” A tall teenage boy asks, pointing to a blueberry muffin in the case. I smile brightly and nod. 

“Of course! That will be 3.40 please.” I relay. The boy flushes and fumbles with his wallet. I giggle to myself and gather his purchase in the signature black and white paper bag. He hands me the money and I smile graciously. “Thank you, have a nice day.” I wave to him and he bows his head and waves goodbye. I wipe my brow and sigh. Phew, it’s not even noon yet and all our tables are packed with students, employees on break, and a few elderly people. 

“Wow, it was never this busy before.” A familiar voice observes. I turn my attention to the figure in front of me and a smile instantly appears on my lips. 

“Sora!” I exclaim and nearly jump over the counter to give her a hug. She welcomes me into her arms with a smug look on her face. 

“The one and only.” She chuckles. “But seriously, how are there so many people in here? I didn’t think Inkyo had it in him.” Her eyes fall to my slightly shorter stature and then she rolls her eyes. “That’s right I forgot you worked here. That’s why there are so many people.” She groans and nods toward the counter. “How has he been treating you?” She asks walking behind the counter with me. 

“Good, but what do you mean that’s why there are so many people here?” I question. Sora laughs and a piece of her thick raven hair falls in front of her face. Just like her brother’s. They looked identical except for their eyes. Both of Sora’s eyes are a piercing greenish-blue hue, still as intense as her brother’s though. 

“You. Airu you’re absolutely stunning. People are coming to see you smile at them.” She answers with another small laugh. I pause. Really? Did people come to see me? What about Inkyo though? He was extremely attractive, people had to come for him too, right?

“Oh.” Is the only thing I can manage to say. Sora pats me on the back and looks out into the crowd. 

“Just make sure Inkyo doesn’t see any of these dudes flirting with you.” She advises. I furrow my brows and look at her questioningly. “Just, keep that in mind.” She pats my back again and moves toward the small trinkets on the back shelves. I’d grown fond of a lot of them while working here. There was a beautiful handmade pot with intricate blue flowers painted on them. Then a calico figurine stood proudly with a little backpack on it. Then there was, of course, the sword. I caught myself staring at it at all times of the day. Wondering how it would feel to wield such a magnificent piece of weaponry. It made me miss my sword all alone at home. Maybe I could ask Inkyo to display mine too?

“Sora.” I whisk around to see Inkyo staring at his little sister with a blank expression. “What are you doing here?” He asks. He glances at me, but then his eyes are back on her. She turns toward him slowly and shrugs. 

“If I’m being honest I was a little hungry. Lucky for you the taste of you being an asshole doesn’t get into your food.” She smiles innocently and Inkyo lets out a loud groan. “Oh, I also wanted to see Airu in her cute little apron,” Sora adds, her fingers playing with the tie on my back. I squirm under her touch. 

“Sora that tickles.” I giggle. Inkyo’s eyes narrow and he catches Sora’s wrist. 

“Why don’t you get your food and go sit down?” He grumbles, releasing her quickly. Sora’s eyes light up mischievously and I can tell she’s about to annoy her brother. I want to tell her to just do as he says, but she’s a stubborn girl. 

“Okay, but I’ll be taking your little girlfriend with me.” She grabs me by the waist and picks up a muffin from the display on top of the counter. Inkyo’s eyes trace her arm around my waist and then flit up to my eyes. They look like they’re subtly burning with some sort of emotion. I want to ask him what’s wrong, but he turns away before I can. 

“Fine. Do whatever you want.” He places his palms on the counter and greets a new customer with a tight smile. Sora leads me away to a free table near the breakroom. 

“He’s so weird.” She says when we’re finally sitting down. I nod slowly but feel a bit confused by that whole interaction. 

“I think you tease him too much,” I mumble absentmindedly. Sora’s eyes widen and she bites angrily into her muffin. 

“He deserves it. He’s always acting like he’s better than me and it’s only because our parents favor him. You look so much like our ancestor, the great swordsman Iguro Obanai. You’re the best Inkyo. We love you so much. It gets a little old after a while.” She mutters. I soften at her plight. Her parents did favor Inkyo, I’d witnessed it all our life. 

“I’m sorry Sora. I just think there are better times for you to enact goblin mode.” I reach out and caress her hand. She smiles through bites and turns to watch her brother at the front counter. “Do you want to hang out after my shift?” I ask in hopes she’ll say yes. It’d been a while since we had gotten together. She presses her lips into a thin line and turns her gaze back to me.

“Thanks, Airu, I’d like that.”

Sora leaves after we chat for a bit about our plans for later. She makes sure to flip her brother off as she leaves. He rolls his eyes as I walk back toward my station. 

“I love that little goblin.” He chuckles. I bump my hip into him and he startles. 

“I think she’d like to hear that from you every once and a while,” I say, enjoying the way Inkyo stares at where I had bumped him. 

“Yeah, probably.” He mumbles, still engrossed in where we’d touched. Sora was right, he is weird. I grin to myself and resume standing by the display case. Since our chat, the bakery had emptied, and only a couple of the students remained working away on their computers. 

“I don’t know how to thank you for this job, Inkyo.” I voice, not sure where I was going with the conversation. He looks at me and shakes his head. 

“You don’t need to. I’m glad I get to work with you.” He replies, a small smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. He lifts his hand to cover it but I catch the sleeve of his dark shirt. 

“Why do you do that?” I ask, turning my body toward him. He watches me with the same intensity a few weeks ago. 

“Do what?” He questions back, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Cover your mouth when you smile,” I explain. His eyes widen slightly and I can feel my heart pick up speed. What was I doing? This was brave, asking him all these personal questions. We were friends, but we weren’t as close as Sora and I. Was I being rude?

“Whenever I smile around you I feel like the corners of my mouth are being ripped open. The amount of joy you bring me splits me open.” He breathes. My eyes are the ones to widen now. What did he mean by that? 

“Excuse me? Can I get that last cinnamon roll please?” Inkyo’s gaze lingers on me for a beat before attending to the customer in front of us. I, on the other hand, still stare at him as he goes about running a business. The joy you bring me splits me open. I let out a shaky breath and cover my mouth as a smile forms. I can’t help it, it’s wide and almost painful. 

Ah. So that’s what he means.

ಊ♡ಊ

“Oh give me a break. He’s not dreamy!” Sora rolls her eyes and punches at the pillow next to her. I laugh at her reaction. 

“No really! I swear. I know describing him doesn’t paint a very good picture, but let me pull up a photo.” I scramble to find my phone. 

“Bean are you hearing this shit? Your owner is bonkers!” Sora gestures to me wildly and Bean, who is laying next to her, blinks twice before closing his eyes again. Sora sighs exasperatedly and flops back into the couch cushion. I finally find a good photo of the scraggly anime character I was talking about. Sora’s eyes study him for a while before she nods once. 

“Okay, maybe I will be hearing you out.” She shrugs and I pump my fist in the air. 

“I told you! He’s evil but so damn attractive.” I kick my feet and hug my phone. 

“You have problems.” Sora teases. I nod my head as I think about my type in men. Yeah, I do, but that’s what makes me special. 

“Hey now, remember this is my house. I can kick you out.” I narrow my eyes and Sora holds her hands up in the air in surrender. I throw a pillow at her. “Get some sleep you dingus. It’s nearly 2 am.” I groan as I push off the ground to a standing position. Sora sticks out her tongue and stuffs the pillow next to her. 

“Weeeeeeaaaaaaak.” She mocks and then flips herself to get more comfortable on my couch. I roll my eyes and flick off the light. 

“Goodnight Soblin.” My nickname for her is a mixture of her name and goblin. 

“Goodnight whore.” Her nickname for me is any insult she can think of. I smile to myself and walk the short steps to my room. I open the door and Bean scurries to come to sleep with me. “Traitor!” Sora calls from the couch. I close the door behind us and take a deep breath. My eyes catch the glint of the moon’s reflection on something shiny. I look up at the wall above my bed. There hung my sword. It had a pink and white hilt, with a guard that was four hearts around the bottom of the blade. The blade was a mixture of black and a redder pink. 

“Kanroji Mitsuri, what exactly were you like?” I mumble to myself. Bean mews softly from my bed and I crawl in with him. I catch myself staring at the sword above me as I drift off to sleep. 

“Here.” A voice mumbles. In front of me is a boy about my age. He wears black and white stripes and a mask over his mouth. His eyes are blue and gold, beautiful. He holds striped green socks in front of him with his head turned away from me. I smile happily and take them gingerly from his grasp. 

“Thank you.” I bow my body and when I look up his eyes are on me. My smile grows and his eyes widen. He stumbles back a few steps and I tilt my head in confusion. 

“It’s-It’s no big deal.” He stammers and before I can say anything else he runs away. What a strange boy. I peer down at the socks he’d given me and can’t help but feel my heart flutter slightly. What was the serpent Hashira doing giving the love Hashira a pair of socks? I look up to where he’d run off to and think about hunting him down, but I highly doubt I’d be able to find him. He probably blended in with the shadows. 

“Whatcha got there?” A voice from behind me asks. Kyojuro Rengoku stands behind me, his usual wide stare looking back at me. I glance at the socks and then back at the flame Hashira. 

“Some socks…” I reply. He smiles widely and studies the socks. 

“They remind me of Iguro Obanai.” He nearly yells. I smile and nod. 

“He’s the one who gave them to me,” I confirm. Kyojuro nods and then gestures to me. 

“By the looks of your face, he set your heart ablaze!” He exclaims. I gasp and touch my cheeks. Warm. So warm. My heart nearly explodes with a feeling of excitement and happiness. Could my goal of finding a man to love me finally be fulfilled? I glance behind me, where Iguro had run off to. 

“Yeah, I guess he did.”

Fever | camboy! Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

synopsis: you manage a talented camboy, but your company wants you to do anything in order to make sure his stream is a success. Ugh, why is he so flirty all of the time? It's really starting to get to you.

wc: 4.6k

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, masturbating (live), strip tease, fake identity, blow job, cumming, hair pulling, facial, livestreaming blow job, slight choking

a/n: this is just something to get out there for my bbg Satoru while I work on some other things hehehe. I'm sorry if it's not the best I have a busy night and wanted to post something!

Things were going terrific at your job, in fact managing had never been easier. You tap the end of your pen against the hardwood table, watching the screen in front of you intensely. Pale fingers twist around the belt you’d picked for tonight’s show, pulling the dark leather free from the loops. Electric eyes glance into the camera and your incessant tapping halts. One shaky breath later and the figure on screen stands from his chair, undoing the button of his breaches. They fall off his hips, revealing a tight pair of black boxers. His sweater is thrown to the side next, your eyes following the lines of his muscles. The flushed pink of his nipple particularly catches your attention. A distracted hum rumbles through your throat as you lean back in your chair. 

He slides down into his chair, a black and gold mask covering the majority of his face. What a shame. Your eyes narrow as he glances at the chat, donations streaming in like a group of cats playing with a mouse. A smirk plays with the corners of your mouth as the air changes almost instantly. “Like what you see? Wachin’ me through that screen?” His eyes are trained on the camera. The tip of your pen rests against your bottom lip as you observe. Money floods in while many excited wealthy heirs comment on what he should do next. 

Tonight was just a strip tease, to get people excited for next week’s show. He clicks his tongue, scanning the comments with the ego of a beautiful person getting attention. It was well deserved, he had a knack for this whole selling himself thing. Luckily enough, you’d secured your position in managing his shows. 

You glance at your watch, raising a brow at how much time has already passed. You swipe at a button that signals for him to finish the show. His eyes deviate from the lens slightly, most likely noticing your message. A cocky head tilt and a slight raise of his brows later he’s wishing everyone a good night. Once the camera is off, there are still viewers fluttering around in the comment section with excitement. Well, excitement in more ways than one. 

The door across the room creaks open just as you’re shutting the laptop in front of you. The man that was just on screen now stands before you, now covered in a fuzzy black robe. He groans as he flops down on the sofa across from where you sat. “Good work tonight.” You mutter, clicking your pen closed. He huffs, letting his eyes slowly take in your figure. 

The intensity of his gaze makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “I didn’t do much,” His robe slips open slightly as he shifts into a more comfortable position. “M’looking forward to next week. They’re goin’ to go nuts.” He grins to himself. 

You nod in agreement, scrolling through some of the comments on your phone. “You have some big names wanting to see more. Keep up the good work.” You meet your reflection in the black screen of your phone. Your face is stern, almost cold. “Well,” you shove the device into your purse, lifting the corners of your mouth in a pleasant smile. “I’m headed home. See you tomorrow for our meeting, which you totally remembered is at 8?” 

His white fluffy hair almost sags as he curls his lips at the mention of an early morning meeting. “Yes ma’am.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. Your mouth ticks in an amused grin, but before he can look up your face goes back to the usual. 

“Goodnight Satoru.” You turn on your heel, reaching for the knob of his apartment door. The night air welcomes you with a melody of traffic and scents that make your stomach growl. 

Mornings were your favorite time to visit cafes. They always seemed to have the best windows that let in the warmth of the sun. You’d arrived earlier than planned with the objective of planning Satoru’s next show. Yet, here you are, basking away in the sun with your eyes shut. If someone passes by they might think you’re asleep – to be honest you wish you were. “Were you so bored without me that sleep was the only option?” Your eyes flutter open, everything a bit too bright for your liking after being in such a peaceful state. 

With the intent of shutting the door behind you, there’s an accidental connection between your eyes. Satoru stands, striding toward his door. He grabs the edge, taking it from your hand. “Goodnight YN, get home safe.”

Satoru stands in front of you, a loose black silken shirt hanging from his frame. He’d tucked the bottom into his fitted black jeans. Laced through the loops was the same belt as last night. Your throat suddenly feels dry as you motion for him to take a seat. He gracefully obliges, scooting the wooden chair under the table. You’re about to start some small talk when his knee brushes against yours. The words you were about to say were fleeing from your brain. You clear your throat, hopeful that it’ll clear your thoughts as well. 

His legs were long, that much was obvious from the sheer height of the man, standing at about 6’3 when he wasn’t slouching. It was slightly alarming to you as it occurs that you’ve seen how muscular his thighs are. Thick and a creamy pink color, untouched by the sun. Your throat bobs as you swallow hard, trying to erase the image of his half-naked body from your mind. Every nerve in your body is attached to the single focal point where your bodies connect. A tingling sensation builds on the back of your neck. 

Warm, he was so warm – like the sun. He stretches his leg further to your side of the table, trapping your legs between his. The buzzing on your neck seemingly drops lower until it bubbles around your tense thighs. You tilt your head, allowing your lips to roll into your business smile. “Was there too much traffic on your way over here?” You question, hoping that talking about mundane things will slow your heart rate, which was honestly annoying you more than much else that had happened today. 

It’s not the first time you’d wanted to be between his legs. Sucking on that perfect cock of his while it blisters your swollen lips. Saliva mixed with pre-cum as he shoves it further down your throat, moaning your name mixed with a melody of explicits. His hands are tangled in your hair, messing the perfect way you’d styled it to appear more professional. Your eyes are rolling back in your head with each choppy thrust into your mouth. You can barely breathe, the only thing keeping you grounded was the tight grip you had on the back of his thighs. 

“But that was pretty much it…” Satoru trails off, drawing his brows together slightly. “You even listenin’?” He waves a hand in front of your dazed expression, ultimately snapping you out of whatever daytime fantasy that was. Your thighs clench together as a slick heat seeps into your core. Satoru doesn’t appear pleased with how you’d practically ignored him. Time to put on your smile again. He clicks his tongue, leaning onto the table. “Think you can get away with that pretty smile of yours?” His voice is low, that intense stare of his lowering to your lips. 

You grab the cup of coffee you’d ordered earlier, bringing the now cold liquid to your mouth. The smooth caramel taste runs down your throat, a light moan of satisfaction breaking the silence. Satoru watches with kept attention, drawing the line of your lips on the cup. Fuckin’ distracting is what it was. “Get away with what Satoru?” You tilt your head, setting the delicate cup back down. It clinks against the tea plate. 

He grunts, briskly sitting back in his chair, and crossing his arms over his chest. He takes a deep breath before looking back toward you. “That smile. It’s dangerous. You should be more careful with it around me.” His voice is low, teasing. It drives you wild.

Tilting your head, you stare at him with a stern expression. “I’ll be sure to put a warning label on it next time, just for you. In fact, I’ll make sure to file a report with HR about my smile being a workplace hazard.” You retort, rolling your eyes at his antics. 

He cocks a grin, amused by this whole scenario. "Go ahead, file the report. But you’ll have to include that you smiled first, so technically, it’s entrapment." Your face drops for a split second before you remember that HR doesn’t exist and you just got nervous about a hypothetical harassment report. 

You take a calm, detached sip from your drink. "Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to include all the evidence. Your overconfidence will be Exhibit A. Now, can we please continue our meeting?”

Satoru is silent for a beat before a cheesy grin lines his pink lips. "Oh, of course. I’m nothing if not a professional businessman. Let’s talk about what you really want to, my cock." There’s a slight glimmer in his eyes that irks you to no end, but he wasn’t necessarily wrong. 

The notebook in front of you was open to a fresh page with a title of ‘keep em’ cummin’ at the top. Fine wordplay if you do say so yourself. “Yes, well, there’s not much to talk about now is there?” The corner of your mouth twitches with pride in your snide comment. 

For a moment you think he’s not going to acknowledge your obvious lie, but then you feel the tip of his shoe on your ankle. Above the table he looks bored, distantly peering at your notebook as he slides his foot between your shoes. You’re confused for a moment as you watch him cover his mouth and turn his gaze out the window. With a brisk movement, he uses his foot as a fulcrum to briskly spread your legs apart. The action makes you jump in your seat, bringing your knees together to keep some sense of dignity. “You and I both know that isn’t true.” He studies you from the corner of his eye. “Given the chance, you’d love to be one of the props for my shows.” He tilts his head toward you, his face morphing into a smug victory.

You raise your brows, trying to conceal the way your heart jumps wildly in your chest. You wouldn’t let him win so easily. Besides, this was a professional relationship. Nothing more, nothing less. Yet, you can’t help but snap back with "Given the chance, you’d probably love for me to say yes to that, wouldn’t you? Sadly, I’m here to talk about your show Satoru, not audition for it.” It takes all of your energy to calm the thumping in case he could hear it. 

"Talking about my show? Isn’t that exactly what we’re doing? Besides, who says you need to audition? I mean, you’re practically in it already.” He’s quick to lean forward onto the table, looking you up and down. “I’ll make sure to save you a spot in the credits.” He hums, picking up your cup. He leans back, sweetly taking his time to sip the drink. “Feel free to send me a nude, that way when I’m jacking off you’ll know exactly who I’m thinking about.” Your skin heats up at his words, arousal crawling up your spine and sinking its teeth into the back of your neck. The feeling makes you straighten your back and take a shaky breath. 

You hadn’t heard from Satoru since the meeting and weren’t sure of your feelings toward that. It wasn’t your fault he wanted to throw a tantrum during an important business meeting. The whole situation had you doubting being his manager. 

A calm smile replaces your obvious loss of composure. Scoffing breathily you shut the notebook on the table. You knew Satoru was used to getting his way with women, you’d witnessed it firsthand – but you weren’t going to let his attitude go unchecked. “Oh, don’t worry. I already assumed you think about me when you’re alone.” You draw your brows together, jutting out your bottom lip in a pout. “And here I thought you were creative enough to use your imagination. How disappointing.” His smirk falters behind the cup as you push the notebook toward him. “Write down some ideas to make you not be an everyday whore. I think you can do that much, right?” At that, you leave Satoru blinded by what you’d like to call a victory. 

Your windows were glowing with Tokyo city lights, creating a sea of neon. You’re so wrapped up in watching the street below you that you almost don’t hear your phone ringing. You have half the mind just to ignore whoever is calling you at this hour, but as you glance down to read the ID your skin pricks with anxiety. Shit, why was your boss calling you? You pick up your phone, placing it on speaker as you answer the call. “Hello?” You squeak. 

There’s some shuffling on the other side, but Director Yang's all too familiar voice gruffly comes through. “Yes, Ms. YN, we’re calling about Satoru’s show tomorrow. Do you have time to discuss?” A laugh bursts from your mouth and you clamp a hand over your lips. Like you had a choice in the matter. “Are you alright Ms. YN?” He doesn’t sound like he cares at all. 

“Yes, apologies Director Yang, of course, I have time to speak.” You reply quickly. He hums, rolling the noise around in his mouth. It rings through your ears like an alarm bell. 

It sounds like he’s muttering something to another person, and then suddenly he grunts loudly. “I’m assuming you know the severity of Satoru’s success rate? We here at LustLine won’t accept anything less than 10k viewers.” Your blood chills. His introduction rate had been nearly half of that, how did they expect a new streamer to reach numbers for their second stream? Let alone their first explicit one? “You know our expectations for managers Ms. YN, success above all else. You’ll make sure to do everything in your power to ensure a successful stream.” Before you have any time to respond or – hell – ask any questions the phone line disconnects. 

You stare at the black screen of your phone for a long moment of silence. Maybe you were mourning your career or maybe you were mourning your dignity. The screen lights up with a notification. 

Satoru: maybe I am an everyday whore

Linked in his message is a document outlining what he plans to do tomorrow. He’s a fucking genius.

“You ready?” You ask, assessing his outfit one last time. He grins, straightening the waistcoat he was in. Wine em’ and dine em’. Cosplay QNA turns into a horny noble jerking off in secret while at a ball. He was in tight black pants, tall brown boots, an ornate waistcoat, and a fluffy white undershirt. His hair was neat and you’d be damned if he wasn’t the sexiest thing on this planet. Not that you’d ever let him know that.

He places the finishing touch on his face – a masquerade mask – rolling his tongue between his lips. “Hmm, maybe when I’m done we can talk about your audition. I have notes.” His smoldering smile nearly kills you as he nods toward the door. Your face scrunches as his mask slips off his face, but he fixes it quickly. It’s almost enough for you to mention something, but before you can Satoru opens his mouth again. “Well, I’m off to work. Try not to masturbate too much without me, ruins the mood,” He walks a few paces before turning back to give you one last smile. “And the upholstery on that chair was expensive.” He adds, disappearing behind the door. 

You weren’t looking forward to tonight, after whatever happened during the cafe meeting and then that ominous call from your director – moving to the States sounded better than all of this. Dread was starting to fill your stomach as you walked through Satoru’s apartment door. He was waiting there for you, costume in hand, an apology cake in the other. Bottom line he acknowledged that he may have crossed a line… which was weird to hear him say because, in reality, your brain welcomed the thought of his suggestion. It made you feel guilty – having made him pay the bill and come up with a top-notch plan all on his own. You weren’t walking away from him – not really– no you were trying to walk away from yourself. The thoughts of Satoru eating you out under the table after he spread your legs apart in front of the window. Everyone who passed by would see you, their envy disguised by disgust. It was…exhilarating. So you had to get out of there before the crazy in you got a hold of Satoru and started hearing out his crazy plans. 

Needless to say, things were a lot better between the both of you. The screen in front of you pops up with a ‘starting now’ message before Satoru’s masked face fills out the screen. All his fans should be jealous that you got to see the real thing in person. His voice is clear in the mic, echoing through the speakers and your body. You glance at the door, biting down on your lip. What exactly would be Satoru’s reaction if you sent him a little…encouragement?

A sinister smile works the corners of your mouth upward as you slip out of your blouse, exposing your flushed breasts supported by a lacey black bra. You pick up your phone, open up the camera, and meet your gaze on the screen. You blink, noting the glaze of your eyes. 

Lifting up the phone to angle down your cleavage, catching the hem of lace. Before you can think twice about the consequences of such a simple action you click the button, capturing your rosy cheeks and devious grin. You open up your chat with Satoru and send the picture without much thought. 

I make no promises about the upholstery 

You glance back to the laptop screen in front of you, noting the way Satoru’s eyes dip to where his phone probably sits on the desk. He brows flinch, furrowing for a brief second before laughing at someone’s comment. He looks distracted, his gaze trailing down to his phone every once in a while. He’s gotten to the portion where he’ll start the bit of hiding away to touch himself. He grabs his phone, muttering something about mood lighting, but you glance down at your phone to see the little ‘read’ indicator appear. His face drops – not the reaction you were hoping for – but then you see how slowly his throat bobs with a swallow. The lights switch to a dusty yellow, dimmed to give the illusion of secrecy. You can still make out the glow of his eyes, illuminated by his phone screen. 

Some comments roll in about how slow he’s being, but the majority of them are pleased with seeing his cock. Can’t say you blame them. Satoru smirks to himself, a grin so full of ego it almost makes you proud. He works his belt off, standing from his desk chair to angle his waist toward the camera. “You can’t tell anyone about this,” He whispers, sliding his breeches down his thighs. “I can’t wait any longer, you drive me crazy. I want you so badly.” He hisses out of frame, groaning loudly as he frees himself from his boxers. You’d never seen a body part this beautiful. I mean who allowed him to have such a spectacular specimen attached to his body? 

The tip of his cock is an angry pink, tapering down to a paler shade of his skin tone. Viens etched their way up his shaft, curling toward the weeping head. He kept it well groomed and his hip muscles that fed into the base of his cock nearly sent shivers down your spine. He grips it with one hand, barely covering the length. Fuck, this was turning you on more than you’d hoped. Satoru is just about to start moving when his mask comes undone around the top section. You’re back into manager mode as the left side slowly slides down his face. He must notice because he hesitates as well, but he can’t fix it – as he’s currently jacking off in front of half a million people– half a million? Your eyes bulge. He couldn’t reveal his face to that many people, it would mean the end of his career before it even started. 

Your body moves on its own as you briskly open his office door. His attention is drawn to your half-naked appearance, blatantly staring at the lacey bra. You narrow your brows, nodding toward the camera. He goes back into character, but this time you get distracted by the movement of his hand around his cock. A slick pressure nearly bursts from in between your thighs. You blink rapidly, trying to look back at the situation at hand. His mask had stilled for the moment, but it was too risky to leave. A second mask lying on the dresser catches your eye. You swallow, quickly lacing it around your face. Satoru peers at you, slowing the pace of his strokes. It’s like he knows what you’re about to do – not that either of you mind. “Couldn’t hold back either eh?” His eyes trail down to his stiff cock, aching for another’s touch. 

Just go through with it. Feed into your desires. After all, isn’t this what the CEO meant? You slowly come into frame, brushing your fingertips against the skin of his chest. He tenses under your touch, his eyes flickering to where you stand. Gently you raise your hand to cup his cheek, bringing him down to your level. His hand has fallen from his cock, concentrating on the way you move in his space. You were something akin to ethereal and pure danger. “Think you can use your theatrics for good or do you think you won’t be able to handle it?” You tease, grinning innocently at him. 

Satoru raises his brows, leaning into your warmth. “Mmm, I don’t know, we never confirmed your audition.” He brushes the hair away from your neck, spanning his large hand against your sensitive skin. “But I think I can be flexible, as long as you are too.” His thumb is running along your jaw, eliciting a breathy moan from your traitorous mouth. “Do you get involved with all your talent?” He mutters, distracted by how your eyes flutter shut. 

A devious grin takes over your plump lips as you chuckle. “That’s not fair Satoru, who ever said you were talented?” His hand shifts to the base of your neck, tightening his grip around your windpipes. Your eyes fan open, meeting his gaze. 

It’s intense and heated as he rolls his tongue over his lips. “You’re about to find out now, aren’t you? Don’t get too attached darlin’” He says the latter part loud enough for the camera to pick up. He brings his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into his chest. “Your father would never approve of this,” His voice is strained, “but I couldn’t care less, you are heaven incarnate. Who am I to deny the pearly gates?” 

Damn, he was good at this whole improv thing. It almost knocks your brain completely off its rocker. It’s hard to think straight so the only words that come out of your mouth are; “Do not pretend this is pure. Disregard me, My Lord.” 

Satoru’s eyes light up at the use of title, the words falling from your lips making his cock beg to burrow deep within you. He was slowly losing control around you. “As you wish.” Now, usually at this time, you’d be pushing your expectations so far down. Yet, you couldn’t help but wish he’d kiss you passionately, but you were the one to open your mouth. “If you do well, maybe I’ll reward you later.” He’s pushing you to your knees and once you’re in front of his hips the whole world comes crashing into perspective. Satoru’s cock is thick and long, half of it surely wouldn’t fit in your mouth. 

He’s taking the camera off the tripod, aiming it toward you. Fuck, move your hands. You need to move your hands. Slowly your fingers wrap around the hard length of his cock. A hiss of pleasure slides out of his mouth. Watching you through the lens was nothing, seeing it in real life was going to kill him. He had to keep it together, no matter how much he wanted to spill all over your fucking filthy face. 

Anxiously you flick your tongue against the weeping slit of his head. His grip tightens around the camera, sliding his hand through your hair and pulling tightly. “Go on darling, let’s see you open that pretty mouth of yours.” You glare into the camera but obey. 

Parting your lips you languidly drag your tongue against the underside of his angry-looking head. You glance up, checking on Satoru. His chest is rising rapidly as he takes all of you in. He shifts, gradually pushing himself into your mouth. “F-fuck,” He hisses, trembling as your wet mouth surrounds his length. He leans his head back, groaning. “You feel so good, shit, s’my pretty girl.” Heat dives to his core as a strangled moan falls from his lips. What were you doing to him? He’d never said or hell done these things until right now. He was under some sort of spell, feverishly thrusting into your mouth. 

Your lips were red, the corners of your mouth felt like they were tearing. Saliva slides down your jaw, pooling next to your knees. “S’fucking good.” Satoru haphazardly sets the camera on the desk, using his newly free hand to more accurately fuck your face. His balls felt like they were about to burst. “M’gonna cum, f’uck,” he practically shoves you off his cock, clumsily stroking his cock. “Open your mouth baby girl,” he sounds like he’s begging. You wanted him to cum, prove your efforts weren’t for naught. “S’at’s it, mmm, f’uck,” he groans as his eyes furrow. Your pretty mouth open for him, waiting patiently. God, it was driving him insane. His hand aches from the sheer force of his movements. 

You shut your eyes, feeling the warmth of Satoru’s cum splurt over your face. You drag a glob off your cheek, sticking out your tongue to lavish the sweet juice. He studies you with a dark expression. 

His stream is forgotten as he pulls you from the ground. “After all that you think I’m letting you leave? Come on, I haven’t even tried the main course.” He grabs a rag from his desk, cleaning what he can of his load off your face. He was right all along. You wanted this, no him. Even if that was just his personality of teasing every woman he came into contact with, it had gotten to you…and that was scary. You’d given in. 

It’s the brisk step back that nearly breaks your resolve. The expression on Satoru’s face is one of neediness. “I’m sorry, I must return to the ball…I can’t do this.” You briskly walk to the door, tearing off the mask and tossing it toward Satoru who is staring after you. 

You had to make your escape quick. “Wait, where are you going?” Satoru’s eyes go wide as you shut the door behind you, gather your things, slip back into your shirt, and run out the door. The worst part was rushing past the apology cake. 

You would not let this fever for Satoru ruin what you’d worked so hard for. 

Demon Slayer Masterlist

❁ = NSFW MDNI

First Kisses with the Hashira

Ideal Weddings with the Hashira

❁Lessons of Lust | Sanemi Shinazugawa and Kyojuro Rengoku x fem!reader

Reader becomes a demon during battle (request)

❁Hot and Tasty | Kyojuro Rengoku

Temptress | Kyojuro Rengoku

Topaz and Garnet Teaser | Prince Kyojuro

❁I See All | Kyojuro Rengoku

Pact | Kyojuro Rengoku

❁ “Just Friends” Full Fic | Kyojuro Rengoku

❁Sub!Kyojuro x fem!reader

❁ReHEARsal | Sanemi Shinazugawa

❁Camp Maple | Sanemi Shinazugawa

Behind me | Gyomei Himejima

Under the Goddess’ Veil Teaser {reworking}

❁Mister Moonlight | Giyu Tomioka

❁Get some ACTION | Giyuu Tomioka’s version

❁Hannya Mist | Giyu Tomioka x demon fem!reader

❁Moonlit Monsters | Muzan x FEM!reader

❁Half Blood | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader

❁Off the Record | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader

❁Fluttering Fluster | Demon Akaza

❁A Secret Technique | Mitsuri Kanroji

❁The Best Friend Bet | Mitsuri and Obanai x Reader

Love Bite | Chapter One

Satoru Gojo and His Pet Cat

Satoru Gojo would definitely own a fluffy white cat that he spoils rotten. She would get taken to only the best salons and groomers. Dine on the finest tuna and salmon. Every time Gojo went out he’d buy her a new toy or a pretty accessory to put in her long white fur.

That’s how he met you, shopping for his baby girl. You worked at one of the shops he frequented, always giving him the best suggestions for his sweet kitty. You two became close enough for Satoru to give you his number. It was mostly sending pictures of his cat and yours back and forth. Innocent really, but there were times when the conversation would shift into something deeper. There were other times Satoru would send a picture of her laying on his bare chest or in his lap or videos of his large hands stroking the soft white fur of his cat. You weren’t sure if he was doing it on purpose, but you never thought you’d be jealous of a cat for being well taken care of.

Eventually, Satoru invites you over to his apartment so you can meet his cat. “Thanks for having me,” you’ll mutter before spotting the fluffy white feline. She’s absolutely gorgeous, prettier than any cat you’ve seen. You love animals, so of course you’ll get excited, asking if you can pet her. Satoru will smirk, coming up behind you, resting one of his large hands on your hip, the other one coming up to brush the hair away from your neck. Your skin burns from his touch, electricity buzzing within you. 

He hums, pulling you flush against his front. Your breath sputters at the hard planes of his body. “I’ll let you pet her if you let me pet you.” You turn your head against his chest to look up into his eyes, your heart rushing to keep up with your breathing. “You’d look pretty on a leash lookin’ at me like that darlin’.” 

Fragments | Satoru Gojo x YN [TEASER]

“Wow.” Is all you can muster, but it riles him up enough. His energy is icy hot, running all over your skin as he buzzes through spots. You feel like throwing up by the time he’s taken you back to your room. You’re surprised you didn’t melt away and by the looks of it, Satoru is liking the fact you could handle him. You wonder if he’d share the same look if you were able to take his cock all the way. You’d clutch the sheets as he slowly pressed himself into your entrance, grinning like a fool when his hips snapped against your thighs. You’d be his pretty girl, a true match for him. 

“YN?” Satoru is blinking down at you from where you sit on the bed. Your brows draw together in confusion. Your stomach had that conflicted mix of emotions again. Then again, maybe you just had to throw up. 

“Your fucking teleportation messed up my brain.” You whack his arm, harder than you mean to. He tilts his head while you throw yourself back on the bed. The coolness of the sheets are a welcome change from the clammy mess he’d made you. He always had to put you through one thing or another. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He questions, sitting next to you. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” You grumble, shoving him to no avail. He was always pestering you. Asking for you to clarify the meaning of your words, wondering how you were feeling, if you had a good day or not. It made your stomach churn in an angry storm. He laughs softly leaning back against the wall. 

“Probably, but I kind of just want to stay here.” He replies, studying the clothes you’d hung up to dry in the nice breeze. Your body cools as his words hit your brain. Which wasn’t working right. Damn it, you needed to get away from this fuck face. The only option was to push him away with your words. If that didn’t work you’d have to move onto the final card. Besides, getting some of your pent up frustration would probably feel good. Lord knows you’ve had years to think about what you’d say to him when you got the chance.

“So people can change?” You laugh dryly. Satoru sucks in a breath, picking up on your change in tone.

“Okay, obviously you want to talk about it. So let’s talk about it.” He sits up and you follow suit after a pause. Well, that worked a bit better than you’d originally thought it would. 

“I’m only allowed to tell my therapist my feelings.” You shrug, moving to stand from the bed. Satoru stops you with a gentle hand reaching out for your hand. 

“YN, I’m a dick.” He states. You roll your eyes. That and so much more. 

“They say you are what you eat.” His serious look cracks into a smile then falls just as quickly. This whole conversation was making you feel gross. 

“I missed you.” His words send a poisonous coil up your spine. You flip to look at him, a genuine scowl on your face. This asshole could send you hurling into a frenzy of confusion and then make you want to stab him about eighty-thousand times. 

“But you saw me every month.” You snap in a faux sweet tone. His eyes widen and for a moment you want to stop. Stop all of it. You just wanted your best friend back. “Listen, I can’t do this right now Satoru.” Even his name feels foreign on your tongue. 

“I thought you wanted to reconcile.” He whispers and it stings almost like an insult. You stand and nod your head in agreement. 

“Oh I do, but it’s going to take me a while to get used to the big city again.” You shoot a look over your shoulder. “My life is still controlled by the clan and unlike you, I don’t get off when I disobey. I didn’t have a choice, at any point.” Your face twitches as your eyes well up. Fuck – this was getting to real for you. The aloof flip between just trying to get him to leave and actually having this conversation was tearing you up inside.  

“Then…why are you here?” Fucking blue eyed freak. Your body feels hot and cold, both temperatures running up your nerves like pinpricks. Time for the last card. 

“Want me to show you?” His brows are constantly drawn together around you. You don’t blame him, even you were perplexed on where this conversation had gone.

“What?” He sounds like he’s both asking a question and answering you. He scoots to the edge of the bed and you position yourself between his knees. His hands absentmindedly trail up the back of your thighs. The sensation of his fingertips on your bare skin make the world around you swirl. It could be the dizzy feeling or the way his hands felt against your skin, either way, you lean down to press your lips against his. His mouth moves against yours this time, wrapping his hands around the back of your knees. He pulls lightly to where you’re straddling him. With his mouth still connected to yours he shifts you back a bit more. You break for air, smothered by his presence again. “Fuck.” He hisses. He moves one of his hands to your ass, the other one playing with the dip of your hip. 

“That tickles.” You say under a hitched breath while your eyes roll shut. Betrayed by your own body. By this point you should be used to those close to you betraying you. Satoru hums in content as his hand slips under your top. 

“Like you fuckin’ care.” His long fingers slide against your skin, finding the soft material of your bra. You press your hips down, begging for friction against his thigh. “Slow down darlin’, enjoy the ride.” 

Your eyes open suddenly and you place your hands on his chest. Don’t make it obvious. He’s looking at you expectantly. Waiting for you…willing to listen. Damn it. 

“I need to go.” You blurt. His eyes widen as you scurry off of him and out of the room. Before his eyes can peer into your body, find the truth behind your words, you nearly jump off him. You scramble outside and bite down on your finger to hold in the scream. You weren’t ready for that, in no way were you ready to have Satoru touching your bare skin. Have his…burning hands all over your body, trancing the curves and dimples. 

You definitely weren’t ready for it to feel that good. You weren’t supposed to like this. You cover your face and scream inside your hands. Fuck.