#how to fold a fitted sheet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 25 days ago

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FIT CHECK?!

Synopsis. Don’t think you can fit all of him? Funny.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, making him fit, size kínk, length + girth analysis, tummy buIges, marathons, unprotected, cúmplay, matíng presses, GOJO’S POWERS, true form Sukuna, dp, they’re BIG, first times (Choso, Ino), PÚSSYDRÚNK men, p talking, headIocks, creampíes, slight exhìbitionìsm (Nanami), pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Anatomy? Don’t know her…

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 8.96 inches x 5.40 inches

“T-Toji how many more mmm- inches left?”

“Two.”

“Oh-”

“Multiply that by three…h-heh.”

And the lips of your slit are all but bawling as Toji clings a palm onto your hips and tugs you down. No hesitation. No apology for the way he’s not even halfway stuffed, yet already stirring your poor insides completely.

“If ya can’t handle a big stretch then- hah- don’t talk outta her.” One of his roughened thumbs draws a horizontal line across your puffy core, stretchin’ your folds apart just enough to watch the way his wide, massive length was being devoured by you, sluggishly.

Half-rutting more n’ more while you shrilled out in needy whines, dazedly wondering whether he even can fit-

“Duh, silly girl.” Oh- did you just say that out loud? With a gruff pant, Toji’s slouching down enough that your hamstrings are screaming. Muttering hoarsely, “M’not Toji Fushiguro if I don’t make it fit, doll.”

He was serious.

Dead serious.

The only goal his overheated mind had been pondering repeatedly ever since you’d insisted that you could take all of his near-nine tonight.

Big. Staggering.

Nestled by breeder balls, his length curved deliciously right, covered in swollen veins and gifted with a plump mushroom tip so fat. Because Toji wasn’t just as red as a strawberry at his crown - he was just as swollen, too- turning into a pretty tannish gradient where his base was kissing your outer pussy.

And taking his five-inch width was already challenging, but now all he wanted to do was fold you with his beefy arms into the meanest mating press and bump his blushing cockhead against your entrance again and again and again until-

Fuck, it was such a tight fit.

A stiff set of fingers tilts your chin, snapping you out of your cockdrunk state. “C’mon, girl- no time to tap out. Spread those legs wiiide open n’ take it for me.”

“L-like this?” You’re whimpering, the sweat coating your fingerpads making them slip and slide underneath the flesh of your thighs. You could be holding yourself as far open as possible and it still wouldn’t be enough for Toji.

“Hmmm, almost.” He’s tittering, dark bangs tickling your forehead when your boyfriend leans dangerously in. He was so big - so muscular.

So strong that it only takes a single split-second for him to manhandle your trembly legs up n’ over his shoulder, interlocking your ankles behind his damp neck with a singular hand. At his mercy.

And then Toji’s pushing and pushing with his inhuman reflexes until your ass is damn near hovering off of the silky sheets, cock furiously hot and tugging on the softness of your hole with each pounding throb.

Hissing, “Aaaatta girl. Now, ya can fit it.”

Slipping one of his particularly proud veins past your inner ring of muscle and slithering it along your ridged sweet spots. “Now you can.” There’s an airy tone to Toji’s voice- almost…gone. Almost higher pitched and cracking as he starts up a vulgar tempo that makes your bedsprings ricket, “Now. Now.”

Toji’s just so damn lengthy that you swear you can almost feel him in your lungs. The globed curve of his tip swabbing past your pussylips and pressin’ deep into every nook and cranny-

“Oh p-please!” Your voice warbles, hips restlessly bucking off of the mattress. Grabbing onto the firm curves of his pecs, making you feel every rippling flex. “So big- so big so big s-so-”

And Toji tuts - tuts, half-lidded jade eyes rolling as he digs his capped knee into the side of your waist to hold you still. Leaning his weight down until you feel the bulge of his v-line scrape your pelvis, “S’all you hafta say?” He tilts his head, a slick line of drool beginning to trickle from the edge of his scarred lips, “M’only…”

Then he’s rovering his rude right hand - callused, somewhat trembling at the heat of your dripping pussy - over your tummy and pressing down, down, down.

Till the crowned edge of his thumb tap-tap-taps over where you could feel the outline of his spherical mushroom tip lining your walls, about halfway down your front. “-here.”

“S-still?” Breathless, the only thing your mind knows to do now is lurch off of your cushy pillows, slobbering down your chin in a thin glaze at how much he was giving another thrust and splitting you apart.

“Keh- whaddaya mean ‘still’?” With yet another roll of his eyes, Toji’s rudely slapping your teary cunt with the velvety underside of his shaft, rubbing his dark happy trail all raw on the top of your neglected clit just to hear you whine. “Open those haaaah- pretty fucking legs, lemme fit- just f-four more inches.”

And if you were in any better state of mind you’d be marvelling about the way simply squeezing your gooey wet walls made the infamous, big bad Toji Fushiguro crack. Stutter.

Gasping, “Take it- come back.” The vice-like hand still restraining your legs drags you down where the recoil of his hips was starting to push against you. Skin reddening near his tufts of unruly black, he titters. “Come back and take it- come back n’ lemme fill you all up- just a few more.”

“A few?” Mewling, his rugged palm racks up the pressure to feel him thick, pummeling cock sliiiide slimily all the way in. “Please-”

“Three- three inches more.” You shiver once the textured ends of his tongue flop outwards and lick up your salty tears, humming like they were the sweetest candy on his tastebuds. “Say it w’me now. Threeee more.”

“Th-three-” Sluuurp goes the way his fat fucking shaft nestles in, wide enough that it rubs against your tiniest fragile orifices.

“Louder.”

“Three.”

Grunting, Toji’s hiking up his own meaty thighs so that he can arch his sculptured spine further. “Two now.” Words slightly tinging on pussydrunken laughter like he was in disbelief. Sure, you’ve taken him before but never this deep. And the stretch made you so wet that your ass cheeks were sticking to the skin of his v-line like adhesive- “Two- two more n’ we already hafta fuuuuck- change the sheets.”

The knobbled thumb of his right hand reaches down until he’s pryin’ apart your swollen folds with a resounding squelch! Almost knuckle-deep- bucking- just to fit inside.

“Fuck- two- two!”

Toji blinks like his hazed brain cells had nearly forgotten your conversation just before, nearly as stupefied as you - your eyes whirling cartoonishly, mouth sticky with spit. You feel the friction of his coral pink divot just graze your cervix and it’s incredible.

“One.”

“One- o-one!”

Then there’s the loudest, rawest, most sinful plop! as Toji finally - finally - bottoms out. Stuffed snugly and sensually from the fringe of his pre-glazed tip to the circumference of his hilt.

You’re watching through partially-opened eyes in awe, wondering just how he managed to fit inside. Toji was just so damn big that every pulse of his winding veins was making your cunt quiver, girthy enough that your pussylips were stretched out until they were bulging.

“Heh- keep your eyes open, doll.” He’s gruffing out from above, finally catching his breath. Pushing down on that cute tummy bulge to remind you that he might’ve talked you through it - but this was still Toji. “The fun’s just getting started.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 10.45 inches x 4.82 inches

Nanami Kento wasn’t just big - he was big.

The tallest tan length patterned with slight veins, and a wide girth that made your eyes roll back stupidly. He was all topped with a neat mushroom tip that spanks down on your slivery slit and makes you drool.

Cocktip blushing a shy, pale pink as he streams out a helping of cute pre, grunting from the depths of his hoarse chest. “Shhh, my love. S’only the tip.”

“B-but you’re still so big, Kento.” You’re whining, fingers trembling where you were digging them helplessly onto the sides of his broad shoulders. And you couldn’t even make as much whiny noise as you wanted to because-

“Mr. Nanami, are the documents for the upcoming proposal okay? ”

Speaking into an ongoing early morning meeting on his phone, “I’ve approved them.” You can’t help the way the firm authority in Nanami’s deep bass makes your cunt grow wetter, biting back a moan as you straddle him in his home office chair. “Tell- hah! tell the team all’s well.”

“Thank you- and pardon me, but you sound a little…”

Instantly, Nanami latches a hand to grope your ass cheeks like he didn’t know whether he wants to pull you away or finally put himself out of this damn agony and bottom out.

Coughing softly, “I-I’m quite alright.”

He was anything but.

Your husband’s demeanor was caring - hastily muting himself on the call - but his cock was so mean. And that smug lil’ clench of your sopping walls gets you immediately punished with a rapid thrust.

“Fuh-fuuuuck! Ken—-”

“Talking so loud, darling.” Nanami purrs, forehead sticking to yours. And he runs his frigid wedding band across your clit to listen to the sweet way your pussy sings out a sluuuurp, “N’ so is she.”

Impatiently rutting your hips up n’ down, up n’ down, up n’ down until your pussy coats his shaft with goopy slick at the halfway mark. “Because I want…”

“Aww- feeling left out? D’you want me to finger you, hm?” Swirling his doughy fingerpad in circles that make your gummy cunt spark with white-hot bliss. Snagging just to the side of your softened walls so that he can try and make them bruise.

“J-just a bit- but-”

And he’s just so eager that you can feel his throbbing shaft pound against the roof of your heated core, four-inch girth so fat that gravity was making every bounce of yours lazily choke down his size. “Mhmm– anything- ngh. Anything for you, my wife.”

“I want more–” Your glossy lower lip juts out in a pout and you almost miss the way those very words make your gentle giant of a husband flinch. It makes him pant.

It makes him look up at you with eyes that are crazed- breathing out in such a strained way, “M-more.”

Nanami Kento’s voice cracks.

And you can only nod, “More. All of it.”

“All…” Maybe a minute passed, maybe an hour, maybe an eon- before Nanami tugs on the silky yellow of his tie and groans at the tightness. “Brace yourself, my love- this is gonna sting a little.”

Before you can even bat your teary lashes, Nanami has one arm tucked underneath your slick-sheened inner thigh, one more centimeter of his solid length shoveled deep. And one finger dancing over that ‘mute’ button on his phone, “So- what was that about meeting plans?”

“Kento, don’t you dare- oh!”

Only to shut you up with a sensual kiss of his weepy orifice down your pussy, he’s vulgarly stretching out your walls until your legs quake.

Sturdy office chair creaking at the force of his hips, his eyes are narrowed and predatory as he watches the way your tight hole expands all ‘round his glistening cock. Your elastic entrance bumpin’ into each one of his veiny inches.

Hypnotized. Sounding as dazed as ever as he speaks into the other end of the phone, “Huh? Oh, that- just my dear wife bringing me…” Nanami stares you dead into your adorable heart-eyes as he tucks his fat thumb past your pussylips and drenches himself. Just enough to pop! into his stern mouth- “-breakfast.”

“S-so mean.” You’ve never seen your husband talk like this, and you’ve never taken his long, ten-inch cock without hours n’ hours of preparation.

But right now, more than anything, you were…hungry.

And slobber drips down the edge of your chin when you throw your head back and impale yourself deeper on his cock. Shrilly whimpering, “Don’t know if I can-”

“Of course you can.” He interrupts in a booming voice, and for a second you don’t know whether he’s talking to you or his coworker on the phone. Only realizing once, with a hasty apology- “My wife needs ah- help with something.” Nanami’s tugging your bitten lips apart and poking his fingers inside.

Making you suck. Making you bite.

“A real gentleman- aren’t you, Mr. Nanami?”

“Mhm- gotta help out the hah- lady whenever I can.” He’s cooing at you. Phone now balanced comfily between his shoulder and his ear, Nanami’s tilting his head and boring down at you with such a sleazy, drunken grin. “Fuckin’ loooove helping my wife- oh, excuse my language.”

Oh god, he was getting so drunk. Tugging on your clit with one hand, and the other was holding you rigidly still so you can’t escape while he was sliiiiiding his cock inside with a sloppy drag.

Your teary eyes wandering to the back of your head, “W-will it-”

“It will.” Caressing the rovering ends of his two digits until you make the cutest gagging noises, he recites underneath his breath. “It has to.” Muted. Just for you to hear. “Inhale slowly- through your nose. Relax that pretty pussy f’me.”

“L-like this?”

“Slower.” Hiking a meaty thigh up once you sloppily follow along, “Keep your chest still- relax.” He hisses as the globes of your ass start to kiss his toned lap, damn near eleven plump inches being tunneled into you. “Exhale slowly. Again.” Head snapping between your half-lidded expression and below, “Again. Take it- fuck fuck fuck- take it.”

Curving the slightly left-leaning point of his tip to slither across your walls and skim your g-spot, and you can’t even move- you can’t even thrash around like you wanted to because Nanami’s pinning you down.

“Yeah- yeah m’here. I’m here and- and sooo fucking hard for you.” He’s swearing underneath his breath once he hits the back of your dewy pussy with a pap! of his large, swollen balls. “And so- fucking- big.”

When Nanami bottoms out it’s with a precise strike to your spongy cervix, so hard that your very bones seem to rattle upon impact.

And fuck- was it just as powerful for Nanami who holds his shaken breath and slouches till his glasses almost slide cleanly off, and stares at the bulging folds of your pussy all webbed with his pre, and doesn’t even realize that the phonecall had unmuted-

“Now now…” Higuruma’s raspy voice sounds out on speaker phone. “How about you n’ your lovely wife get this meeting on video call, Nanami? Maybe I can ah- help, too.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 9.18 inches x 4.58 inches

Thwack! The glittery ends of Geto’s long, pale fingers are just drenched in all your sap and slick and he doesn’t think he’s ever smiled harder.

Tutting, with his head bent just low enough that his inky, curtaining locks trace your arched spine. “Yeahhh- she’s not fucking fittin’ me again- heh.” Snickering once just the slightest gyration of his bulging tip sends a torrent of cum from before dripping out of your pussy, “She agrees with me, too, gorgeous.”

“I feel so full.” You’re whining as your leader simply pulls you back and pliably rests a foot on your head. Geto Suguru already had you for hours, yet he wasn’t letting you go for a looong time.

And he wasn’t going anywhere without his reddened, gleaming tip emptying out yet another wave of milky precum inside of you. Watching as the sleek white coating glosses over your pussylips- his hazy gaze snaps from your cunt. To you. And back- “On second thought…”

“O-ohhh my god- ngh-”

“-why don’tcha take all of me again?”

You can’t help the way that your arms claw on the damp futon and try to drag your trembling body forwards - because Geto was just so big and trying to push himself deeper.

He was just as pretty as his long, flushed pink cock was. Balls delicate, shaft road and wide- with a singular strawberry pink vein that mazed along so sinfully.

You’re feeling the tender slit underneath his sparkly tip rub your insides raw. A few more solid inches of him throbbing behind, aching to just push you down and stuff you-

But he was feeling nice today.

“Ah ah- no running.” You damn near scream once he’s saddling the curves of his toned thighs behind your own, snug n’ warm. It’d almost be gentle if it wasn’t for the way that Geto was pinning you down to keep your restless hips in place, “Look at you drool. You’re already crying f’me from both ends?”

So cute- it was just too cute how you’re slurring from your hole just as much as your ajar maw.

And with another repeated swat to your teary slope, Geto tucks his bulbous head in place with your g-spot and watches you whine. Grunting, “Heh- wonder how much of a messy girl she’ll ngh- become when I put- my-” Vulgarly thrusting, so messy. “-entire cock in. Wouldn’t that be niiiice, gorgeous?”

He’s asking you questions that right now you were too fucked stupid to answer. Only able to nod and nod into the goopy puddle of spit you were leaking onto your pillow, “Yes- y-yeshh-”

“‘Yesh?’”

“I-I mean-”

Smoothly drifting a hand between your legs to squeeze your perky clit and make you let off a breathy cry. “Shhh- no need to waste your time hah- talking.” He’s immediately bringing up those very same cum-covered fingers to plop into your mouth, wetly, “Mmmm- tastes good, huh? Now you’re both stuffed.”

The flavor of salted caramel bursts onto your tastebuds and makes your folds quiver, stubbornly milking out even more of his creamy syrup. Clenching. Squeezing.

“Oh fuh-fuck.”

Your eyes snap open, words all groggy and muffled through his roaming fingerpads inside of your mouth. “Sugu, did you just-”

Pushing his foot deeper- “No- shut up.” Geto didn’t even know why his suave voice was shaking so much, he doesn’t even know why he underestimated just how needy his girl could get. Because when he wanted to fit his entire swollen, pumping cock in- it was a half-joke. Really. “M’okay- t-tooootally okay.”

He didn’t think your thoroughly filled, sploshing pussy would still be craving for his touch oh-so-deep inside. And he’s watching - spellbound, breathless - down at the way your pried-apart pussylips drool once you’re grinding down to devour his 4.5-inch width some more.

And Geto wasn’t a small guy - he was fucking big. Well over nine inches and pulsing from the sides with his prominent veins that scraped your slick insides just right, “Dity fuckin’ girl. If this tight hole hngh- wants it then just say it.”

“Wan’ it– please mmm m’so close.”

“Mhm- just like that.” Nodding along, and for a second Geto himself doesn’t know whether he’s talking to those pretty wailing whimpers of yours or of your pussy. Biting back wads of greedy saliva at the slurps sounding from below, “Tell me- tell me. S’not like th-this tight fucking cunt is affecting me like that. Not like I’m dying to…thrust.”

Mindless, half-measured bucks that wildly probe into your deepest, most tender spots. He’s even letting his free hand toy with the pearly droplets of syrup seeping out of you just to make space.

And Geto just keeps babbling on- “Not like I wanna always ngh- bend you over and ruin this pretty pussy.” He feels you getting wetter and in response pokes his muffling fingers into your hot mouth further- almost dragging you backwards after each recoil. “Not like I wanna fuck this hole until she’s all bruised f’me- fuck! She’s actually taking me.” Eyes wild, hips wilder. “She’s actually fitting me.”

“P-please! You’re in shoooo deep, Suguru- I’m gonna-” At this point you think you could feel him pushing his previous scorching, gluey webs of cum straight up to your throat.

And you could feel yourself cum.

White-hot, toes curling, eyes darting all the way to the back of your head until Geto could only hiss at the snug embrace of your pussy keeping him hostage. Fighting against the slight resistance-

“Not deep enough.”

Just in time, he snaps his feet off of your clammy scalp - for just a split-second, letting all the pounding blood rise to your head - before gathering you up in a raw, lecherous headlock. Tightening your throat with his beefy arm, you drool all over his forearm at the feeling of those natural muscles.

“Not like I always want you to fit- hah- aaall of it, gorgeous.” With a hot pant all feverish against your ear, and the sound of Geto’s baritone cracking, he’s snapping his hips so hard that he bottoms out.

You cry out at the tingles of your orgasm still coursing through your veins, completely at his mercy. “B-but you already ngh- did.”

“Oh…” Taking one look down at the way the globes of your ass were all nestled up to his raven happy trail, Geto gasps. Feverish. “Maybe I do.”

You were full.

So full that your soft, battered walls barely even had the space to clamp down once Geto swiftly turns the two of you over onto your backs in one, fluid motion. Easily dragging your boneless limbs into a full nelson-

“I-it’s actually in.” He stutters - stutters. Amethyst eyes widening, mouth sagging into a pretty oh! “All the way in- she actually fucking fit all of it, gorgeous.”

Thighs still twitching from your high, you slur, “N-ngh dunno if I’d be able to fit any more—”

“Awww.” Swiping away that bubble of spittle formulating at the edge of your lips, Geto thrusts his hips up so hard that your vision cracks with stars. Low, smooth in your ear- “But maybe you’ll fit my tentacle curse, gorgeous—”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 8.30 inches x 3.99 inches

“O-oh!” You’re squeaking out in a way you’d certainly be embarrassed about if it was any moment but now. Head snapping down to where you were straddling Choso’s slim hips, “You just got even bigger, Cho—”

Fuck- fuck, why did you have to say it like that?

Because of course, that was going to make Choso Kamo’s ancient cursed powers go out of control all over again. Of course, every ounce of blood in his body was going to rush to his long, blushing cock - now more than rock-hard.

And Choso was already massively big.

Well over eight inches and throbbing furiously, his mushroomy tip always blushed the prettiest cherry-red. A few aching curves of his veins pressing down your puffy outer pussy, and his width was just perfect - not too wide, not too thin. Slipping n’ sliding inside, letting the geysering hole on top of his shaft dollop your cunt with creamy pre.

But his first time with you raw? Actually feeling the gushing waves of your slick splashin’ down his veiny cock had him rabid. Gasping, “Am I really that…big, baby?”

“Hmm—” Quite frankly you weren’t sure, and you were too damn stupid on the stretch of his prolonged cock to even think. Leaning down teasingly, “It’s very big, Choso.”

“B-but not too big, right?”

Cute bubblegum lips wobbling, Choso wraps his toned arms around your hips and gets you to grind out a pummeling bounce. Letting the globular curve of it whack against your dewy wet walls and watching as you drool, “You can fit it, right? Right?”

Your cunt lets off a resounding squeeelch as you start giving in to his tempo and gyrating your own. And Choso’s staggering length meant that he was gluing his scorching hot crown to your deepest insides without even trying.

You’re pretending to think, “Hmmmm, I dunno—”

“N-no-” He’s hiccuping, chestnut lashes starting to gleam with tears. “Nononono- you don’t hafta do any of the ngh- work, baby— I’ll make it fit.”

So panicked. So sloppy that each one of his rugged trusts was hitting every nook and cranny of your dripping pussy, once near the splotchy area of your g-spot, another near the roof of your cunt. Mazing down the tip-top of his pink shaft like a spotlight.

“Will you–?” You purr, “Promise?”

“Promise- promise promise.” And his hands rest upon either side of your waist to keep pulling you up n’ down with his inhuman strength. Softly whining when that meant he didn’t have a hand left to pull your face into a kiss- you give him one anyway.

The plush, puckered contact of your lips was enough to make him jolt like he’d just been electrified. Choso groans into your mouth and furrows his brows in desperation, “I-is it fitting, baby?”

And one look- one look is enough for him to throw his head back into the silken pillowcase with his dark eyes whirling. Dizzy. Hypnotized. Just covered in cursed energy that makes him pulse bigger-

“It is-”

“Mhm– it is.”

“Look. She’s actually taking in all of me–!” All of him, Choso doesn’t think he’s ever let his fat cock roam this far into your innards before. Chin hitting his pecs in haste to take a further look, “She’s really sucking me up and ah- I’m not ngh- ungrateful, baby, but…I she neeeeed her to take it…all.”

He’s blushing and red-hot by the time he’s admitting this out loud.

By now there’s only a few more of his solid inches left, and you’re leaning behind you to grab a fistful of his tight balls- oh-so-sensitive. Rolling the mountains of his palm over where he was most delicate, “All, huh?”

Who knew that would only make your sweet, ruined boyfriend arch his toned hips and rut- “Yes-” The planes of his cheeks fluttering with beaded tears, “”Yes, please- don’t close out.”

And just having you clench around him was keeping him shackled to your pert, pretty pussy. Urgently slamming his toned v-line up into yours in an attempt to keep bullying himself inside, he’d never felt this before- having you squeeze him snugly like this. The moment you start pushing him with your velvety slick walls made him only hold you close and push and push and push–

“D-don’t close this pretty pussy-” His free hand tugs on the sappy ends of your outer pussy, tuggin’ just so that his veiny cock finds its way inside. Pouting, he lets his reverse cursed energy run wiiild- “Let me put…it in…”

With your fingers carnally itching the skin of his ball sack, you hum—“You are, baby—”

“Heh- y-you called me baby.” He’s giggling to himself, the apples of his cheekbones turning bright red. He’s mesmerized - he’s dazed at the slight figure-eights you’re drawing out with your hips to fit him inside. And the moment the fat of your ass cheeks hits his hip bones with a loud slap! oh- “You…inside.”

Inside.

And he’s cumming just as far deep, too.

The moment he’s all bottomed out, Choso’s voice hitches with a cracked whine once he’s spurting out a steady jetstream of syrupy white. Letting the honeyed droplets of it cling onto the sides of your goopy cunt- and he’s so embarrassed.

Fuck, he’s so embarrassed at the fact that he’s cumming so early.

But he can’t stop that primal urge within him that keeps bouncing his capped knees, sticking the globes of your ass against his meaty thighs with a layer of sheeny cum. You’d really, really managed to fit all of him - all his hot, ridged inches that tugged on the sides of your damp walls. Hitting your cervix dead-on.

“You took all of it-” He’s breathing out, raspy. Scalding hot seed dripping down your slit and rubbing all over your clit, “All- all. So this is what it feels like, I’m really inside, I’m really ngh- fucking you all the way.”

“Y-yes you are.” You have to fight to answer, the thrash of his split-ended shaft scouring across your walls until you were speechless. Mouth watering. Vision flashing. You brush your fingers through the strands of his bangs, “Happy, Cho?”

Purring up at you, “Of course, baby— B-but now that I’m inside can we try…” Half-lidded eyes almost trying to look away, almost shy. But the way he gives you a thrust to slosh around his stringy wads of cum says otherwise, “-a mating press?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 13.3 inches x 6.04 inches (each)

“K-Kuna—”

“B-b-brat.” It’s just so cute how that snarling grin he gives you is enough to make you bristle, as if you weren’t all sprawled out on the King’s lap and speared by one of his fat, thirteen-inch cocks. Both of his smug mouths snickering your way, “What? Whining n’ crying for two when ya can’t even take one. Humans always are so ambitious.”

And you? You were more than ambitious.

You’re just downright stuffed with the plump, honed crown of one of Sukuna’s lengths that it was stirring up whatever’s left of your brain cells. The weepy orifice of his tip swirlin’ a ribbon of milky pre as you squirm, and for the first time, you wanted more. “I wanna take both but I dunno if it’ll fit, Kuna.”

“Awww, my poor baby doesn’t know if it’ll heh- fit?” He’s cooing at you mockingly from above, one of Sukuna’s four hands nestling at your hips to give you a lil’ bounce. “Then I guess as king I hafta help with that, hm?”

“Yes- yes please-”

“Ah ah- but first…a kiss.”

Almost shocked at the plump pucker of his fanged lips, you slouch over where you were straddling his muscular waist. Him, all sprawled out on his gilded throne- and you, struggling to plant a kiss.

“There-” You murmur against his warm lips, a pout adjusting on your gaping maw as you wait expectantly.

But he only grins, knees hiking up to swat your ass with repeated grinds. “And here, too. Kiss me proper now.”

There.

He doesn’t even have to wait for the lecherous request to register inside your melty mind before his impatient, monstrous second mouth is unhinging ajar and saaaalivating all across your teary slit. The curled tendril of his pink tongue was just tickling where your hole was bulged, “Keh- humans are so easily embarrassed.” Two of his beefy arms glue to your sheeny inner thighs and streeetch you wide open, “Open up for ‘Kuna’, brat.”

Twisting your head down to watch- you don’t even know what your glassy eyes search for first.

The way that second, matching hard cock of his was bobbing with desperation or the way that his cursed mouth was greedy and salivating with every flick up the front of your hot core. Drooling, spitting, lapping up ounces of sap like it was sugar water-

“Ya can take that-” Another fat splosh of spittle, disappearing between your pussylips. “-ya can take me then.”

“Want it- want-” Huffing stubbornly, “Can handle both I ngh- promise.”

How cute…

Sukuna really can’t stop the way he departs a darkened bout of laughter, head tilted. “Why don’tcha suck this one up for me and ngh- prove it then.” And before you know it, he’s clawing his last hand down on your sweaty scalp and pushing down, down, down– “Bottoms up- or, more like bottom out.”

Fuck- you weren’t even given the split-second to snap at him for his silly lil’ joke at your expense, because the sheer stretch just had you so damn delirious.

And claiming that Sukuna was big was an understatement - well above thirteen inches, each. Both of his long, vertically-stacked cocks were so swollen and ready to be inside of you that they looked like they were about to explode.

Right from the slightly red edge of his bulging tips, to the circumference of his bases, all covered with a spattering of pink veins. Massive- and so was his pair of hard, tannish breeder balls, twitching with your every movement.

He was only about halfway in and the sleek ribbons of Sukuna’s precum were already hitting your thighs in splashes-

“Oi oi- don’t tell me yer too cockdrunk now.” His hips shift as he starts up a vulgar pace, hitting the back of your cervix with his pointed crownhead and he still wasn’t bottomed out. You wouldn’t be surprised if he would be hitting your damn throat soon. Grunting, “Take it. C’mon, little human.”

Sukuna was so wide that just a singular one of his girths had your mouth falling into the same ogling oh! “I-I am.”

“Heeeeh? How cute.” Darkish nails leave tiny bruises along your waist, lightly angling your tempo so that the zig-zagged line of one of his prominent veins hits your most favorite spots. “Faster now.”

Harder. Sloppier.

And you almost can’t, just so heady and stupid on the thump-thump-thump of his rounded globe squishing up your insides. So he can only lean backwards sexily and buck his waist further-

“Faster, brat, if you want mmm- both my cocks.”

Thighs trembling, lips wobbly, “B-but…”

“Aw, guess you forgot-” Mockingly, Sukuna’s stern lips fall into a tiny pout. And in the blink of an eye, where the edge of his tastebuds were slimily running down your folds, he’d suddenly replaced it with the smooth fringe of his second cock. “Seeee?” Rubbin’ it up n’ down in a way that was so sultry, “Wanna taste?”

Soon enough, you’re slobbering all down the cushions of his pecs. The utter raw stretch of it too much that his tensed front was covered in a shiny lacquer of your saliva, “I-I want…both.”

Ah, he’d never fucking admit it, but it was so endearing how hungry you were for his cocks. “Course ya do- you can take it.” The only thing driveling and greedier than you was that pretty pussy, “Faster.”

Just a few inches- just a few more inches more that Sukuna was helping you devour.

Well- teasing, “Harder, unless you don’t wan’ me ngh- hitting- here-” The sharp points of his fingernails tickle your tummy, right where the bumpy cylinder of his bulge was whacking. Right above your cervix. Your womb. “Twice.”

“Ohhh- mmm- ngh, there, Kuna.”

“God, she loves it like this, huh?” And it seems like both him and his other mouth cackle. Twin cock diamond-hard now, and just starting to snugly fit and inch in with a sluuuurp. “Can feel- hah- feel your womb, she’s begging for my seed, brat. Twice.”

You’re sobbing at this point, and his shiny tastebuds were lapping your tears up like candy. “Twice- p-please twice.”

Twice.

Twice twice twice- and it was driving Sukuna fucking wiiiild. The clench of your squirming thighs pushing his rummaging shafts together was insane, and that’s exactly what he blames for the way he grumbles out drunkenly- “Wanna give me an heir that badly- do you?”

“I-I do.”

Talking out of your cunt, for sure. Talking out of your oversatured mind, obviously.

But fuck- Ryomen Sukuna can’t stop himself from blurting out a low- “I love you.” And then a hissed pant of your name as he jumbles up your memory of that little confession with the entrance of his second cock, as well.

Dually splitting you open, you were so impaled on his throbbing girths that you almost miss the way he grins- “And now…” Slapping your slippery slit with the silken underside of his tongue, “S’my turn to have some fun.”

The way he whimpers.

♡ INO TAKUMA - 7.69 inches x 4.50 inches

“Big stretch- can you say that f’me, pretty? Biiig stretch?”

It was just so cute how your boyfriend’s cheeks were all innocent pink while he whispered the dirtiest questions in your ear. Rosy lips wobbling at just the sound of your pretty voice, “Mmm– it’s a very biiig stretch, Taku.”

“Well…n-not that big.” He can’t help but stutter out shyly, fighting the urge to dig his fingers into the strands of his chestnut bangs and pull down his ski mask still on. Hastily rutting, “You can still ngh- fit all of it, right, sweetness? Please?”

And shit- Ino might be the sweetest, but his cock was built so fucking mean.

He was a long seven inches and more, with two throbbing veins that ran down the side of his shaft and carved right along the tender spots of your walls. All flushed the same cherry-pink that his clammy, blushing cheeks were. And so fucking fat that your puffy core was having trouble keeping up with the rub-a-dub of his girth.

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth while he’s planting half-ruts and grinds just to fit himself inside-

“Sweetness?”

“O-ohhh ngh-” You’re snapped back into your lewd reality the moment Ino’s impatiently dragging down your body with a hand at your throat. Dangerous. With the pierced edge of his mushroomy tip - that cold, sinful Prince Albert’s piercing - whacking your g-spot with a wet plop! “So good- so big, fuck!”

And maybe it was a blessing in disguise that the useless lil’ rubber of your condom had snagged the moment his pierced cockhead caught on it.

Because right now your gushing wet cunt was clenching around him to hold him hostage, and it was rendering Ino so damn pussydrunk that he was drooling. “M-maybe it’ll be easier in missionary, pretty-”

Times like this, you’re reminded just how much training your boyfriend has undergone. Because- before you know it- before you can even blink, Ino has his hands flying to bend your trembling thighs ‘round his slender waist.

Pliably pushed up until the caps of your knees hit your tits, until your scalp’s throwing back with a keen–“Mmm- feel so good- keep going, Taku–”

“Keep going.” He’s whispering to himself, eyes wide and barely blinking like he’s not even sure whether or not this was one of his wettest dreams. Here he had you all sprawled out and raw, letting off the cutest syrupy squelch! the moment he positions his bulging cockhead deeper and gives a little rut. “Keep- keep going.”

Whimpering, soon enough he can’t even handle the way that every driving force of his hips leaves your poor body recoiling.

Can’t handle the graze of your warm, wet walls making him feel like he was pulling out - the last thing he ever fucking wanted to do - and so he has to tighten his restraint on your neck and draaaag you back down after every jackammer just to keep himself sane.

“See? See?” His rugged whisper scorches your ear, Ino’s eyes half-lidded and wild. He squeezes your throat and snaps his hips down until the pale skin of his pelvis turns red, “S’not that big- nghhh, I can fit. C-can tooootally fit.”

Smugly batting your lashes- you were ruining him. “Yeah? Almost there?”

“Just like three or four more inches-” He groans, taking a sneaking glimpse at the rubbery resistance downwards. And his balls were delicate and flinching sensitively at every contact with your skin, “Just gotta get through this- ngh- tight fucking hole. That way I’ll fit.”

“And if you don-”

Cutting you off in panic, “Don’t even say s-such a haaah- thing.” He’s brushing his knobbly thumb along the base of your treacly pussy and watching in amazement as you open up even deeper for him with a sluuuurp. The excited throb of his shaft digging just against your most tender geysering orifices-

Ino’s making such a mess, such slippery wads of slick streaming between your folds and glistening in a ring across his base. He almost wants to pull down his dark black ski mask just so he won’t cum from the sight.

Harder, sloppier.

Not only was his cock pretty, it was so thick and probin’ along your every wet-sheened ridge and crevice. Making you scream just as much as your pussy was giving off slurping squelches!

You’re clawing down the veined expanse of his forearms, “S-so rough, Taku-”

“Oh- sorr-”

“I love it.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

That was more than enough for him, and before you know it - before even he knows it - he’s bucking with a mindless half-thrust that lets him bottom out. Rapid. Hard. Feral. That lets him cum.

Letting him crater the door to your womb with his orbed piercing, with a wide circular circumference that bruises you in while he stuffs you with white syrup.

The creamiest webs of seed overspill, and Ino can’t do anything but gape as his free hand moves before his mind to rover his fingers across your glossy entrance and push those hot springs in-

“Fuck- fuck. And I love you-” Setting your rapidly pulsing neck free to haul his eyesight partially closed by his mask. “This is what it feels like- this? H-how can it feel so…”

And you don’t even know how you manage to speak beyond the sparking fuzziness filling up your brain at the splosh of cum coating your innards like a glaze. Dripping just down the sides of your gluey-stuck thighs, “Awww- shy, Taku?”

He doesn’t answer- but his hips do all the talking.

Fucking the knots of cum in with rough, rugged drives that drench his tawny happy trial, Ino whimpers once you’re tugging his mask up and forcing him to look at you in all your fucked-out glory. Shit- so perfect n’ pretty that some primal part of him just has to mess it up by pulling out just the slightest few solid inches.

Creaming out opaque white layers upon layers of sap, Ino lets his pinkish shaft slap-slap-slap down on the puddle and hums. Eyes drunk, skin flushed, big fucking cock oh-so-painfully hard. And if he dares to let his plummy mushroom tip pull out and write out a cursive white T-A-K-U, well—“S-so…am I getting pregnant or are you, sweetness?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 11.02 inches x 4.28 inches

“You’ve got it, you’ve ngh- got it-”

“Fuh-fuuuck, Satoru. But it’s so big-”

“You’ve got it.”

It’s been the exact same thing being repeated in panting moans over and over into the side of your ear. And Gojo can’t fucking stop that strained, broken mantra from leaving his lips every time he’s pushing you deeper into this mating press, and his cock deeper into you.

Fuck- you should’ve expected that the strongest would have a fat fucking length to match.

The only thing ruder than the way he was constantly pounding you into the soft, silken sheets was his size. Over eleven inches, according to him, the edge of his rose-red cocktip brushes all the way near your spongy cervix without even trying.

And he was oh-so-pretty, like every delicate vein running down the middle of his pinkish shaft was hand-carved to hit your every sweet spot.

Ridged, lightning bolted texture of his shaft making you see stars- you’re feeling Gojo’s swollen breeder balls brush against your thigh every time he knocks his ringed slit at the gooey roof of your pussy and just simply rubs it there, sensually.

“Getting sooo fucking wet-” He’s hissing into your open mouth, the tips of his gleaming white canines snagging against your lower lip as he smiles. “H-heh- you got it. You got it. Aaaalmost there, almost-”

“But there’s so much more, ngh- why are you this big?” You’re whimpering, the flats of your feet pushing against Gojo’s shoulders. And fuuuck- does he love the chase. Does he love that feeling of watching your boneless limbs flail when he’s folding you back in half with almost inhuman strength.

The doughy edges of his fingers itching for his black blindfold beside your night stand- “Hey now, sweetheart.”

And it takes two of your heady breaths - less than two seconds - for Gojo to curl the silky fabric of his blindfold around your ankles. To tie them together and firmly set them on his muscular back, “You wanted to see how the strongest hah- fucks. You’re gonna get it. And…heh-” Your dear boyfriend has the audacity to giggle - giggle downwards at the way his reddened cock was being devoured by your puffy core. “-wouldn’t you wanna take allll of the strongest, sweetheart? Pretty girl? My wife?”

“I get it I- fuck!” Breath catching when he’s hiking his pale thigh up to shovel yet another solid inch inside, pryin’ your bubblegum walls to the side with his bulbous tip. “J-just shut up.”

Who knew that would make him give you the first shred of mercy he’s shown in what felt like hours now.

Making him falter for a split-second, making him gasp. Making him blush- whispering out something airy, “Th-that almost made me cum.”

And shit- Gojo Satoru could not let himself cum before you did, no matter how much it felt like heaven was between your legs n’ you were just melting all around his size. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s letting his gaze coat with a few flickers of cursed energy.

Six Eyes on full throttle once he splays his massive palm on top of your cute tummy, “I’m still riiiiight-” The edge of his finger sizzles with power as he draws an invisible line, precisely where his blushing red crown was cratering a massive bruise inside of your tight cunt. Grinning, he taps- “-here. Got my fat fuckin’ cock right here.”

Mewling, your knees weaken once he’s reeling his slender hips back just enough to whack three repeated hits on that impromptu target he’d made. Fully well knowing it was inches from your g-spot.

“Fuck- just a bit higher, Toru–”

“Oh, sweetheart—” His half-lidded irises are so dilated that they almost look like hearts, lips twitched into a wobbly smile while he fucks you like he’s furious. “You’ve got six more inches to go- ngh! five.”

And shit- you can’t help the way you overtly ogle the flex of his toned biceps as he sexily reaches behind him. One set of fingers clenching ‘round that vice-like blindfold at your ankles to pull-pull-puuuull you down, the other buzzing with jujutsu and creepin’ to your clit to pinch.

He wouldn’t fit otherwise, bullying his way inside.

“H-heh…four now.”

Manhandling you, he was so strong that he’s making you feel like some sort of doll. Sending your ass cheeks ricocheting with every sopping wet spank of his pelvis, “Shit- you’re going in so deep-”

“Mhm- right down to your cute ngh- womb.” He could follow every slimy, mazing trail of his bulging shaft with his very own eyes. Snickering as he makes sure to graze the curling tendril of his veins right along your g-spot, “You like that- huh? Feels good?”

“Yes- mmm feels so good.”

Smooth voice purring in your ear, just the sound of it makes your skin bubble with goosebumps. “Imagine how good it’ll feel when I’m all inside. Just threeee more inches to go- two.”

Close.

Eleven inches was a lot to handle, and your poor dripping cunt felt like you were being stretched out to the max. You didn’t know whether it was his out-of-control reverse cursed technique or pure carnal desire that made you have the strength to start rutting down for more more more-

“Ohhh— what’s this?” Gojo raises his snowy brows and matches your sloppy tempo, scratchin’ his fuzzy white hair near the top of your clit every time he flicks it. “My girl wants more? Wants all eleven inches- s’a thick fucking cock, sweetheart—”

That was an understatement.

With over four inches of meaty plumpness, he was so wiiide with his girth that you’re sure you’re molding to his exact size. The entrance to your pussy quivering after every thrust, fast. Rapid. Mindless thrusts.

You’re gurgling out your answers, unable to even speak at that point. “I know I know-” Mouth still falling into a spit-slicked smile as he shows no signs of slowing down. Blinking tearily, “Still wan’ it all.”

And then it happens - all at once.

The lights in your bedroom shatter- and then, so do you. Because with a longing, lingering glide of Gojo’s barreling length vertically across your g-spot and down to your cervix, you’re cumming.

Mouth ajar, eyes scrunched close. Your own wave of bliss catches you so off-guard that you can do nothing but hold onto his Adonis-like shoulders for dear life and shrill–“Cum—ing. Fuck fuck fuck- cumming, Satoru-”

“I know-” And he sounds just as gone as you at this moment. “I saw it.” With his Six Eyes, even before you reached your high.

Not even realizing that the electricity had been destroyed in your bedroom - in the entirety of Tokyo, actually - not even realizing you two were plunged into complete darkness except for the bolts of blue lightning skittering down his skin. Setting his eyes aglow, air tightened.

Gojo groans—“And you f-fit all of me-” It took even him a few sultry seconds to register that he’d finally bottomed out.

Slapping and slapping the tender skin of his v-line right into the drenched space of your open thighs until he’s rubbed raw. Gojo was all inside and yet still trying to push himself even deeper, chasing the warmth of your dewy cunt- he bites back a whimper. “All of me- and it feels so…oh, I could just- fuck!”

One teensy clench of your sweet, saccharine walls.

All it takes before the strongest throws his head back and cums- timing each swat! of his thwacking balls right on staccato with your own peaks. It made him tilt his head down and giggle at the way your mouth only sagged open wider once you felt the sheer volume he was emptying out.

“You’ve got it-” He gasps into your popped eardrums, touch electric. The soft thumb rolling over your clit swiftly decides to crawl down n’ start plugging your drooling orifice with his wads of white. “You’ve hah- got it. You’ve got it- you’ve got it. Isn’t this the ngh- biiiigest fucking cock you’ve ever seen–?”

“F-fuck, Toru- yes! But what are you…” Briefly, the hand looped around your ankles claws at your clammy crown and moves your head to stupidly nod.

All the while, Gojo’s simply stirrin’ his shaft in circular motions inside of your velvety walls to touch every nook and cranny with his creamy cum. Teasingly announcing, “Oh yes it is- yes it is–”

Looking almost satisfied with the way you’re all fucked out and still shaking prettily from the ordeal- that is, at least, before a sudden idea glints behind his half-lidded sapphire eyes.

“I wonder if it’ll be- heh- even bigger if I use limitless, sweetheart”

“…”

A/N. I thought I was soooo funny for that title.

Plagiarism not authorized.

9K notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 1 month ago

Text

Title: The Flight Response.

Pairing: Yandere!BatFam x Reader (DC).

Word Count: 5.7k.

TW: Non/Con, Dub/Con, Fem!Reader, Kidnapping, Prolonged Imprisonment/Isolation, Mentions of Stalking, Age Gap (Reader is Mid-Twenties, Bruce is Late Forties), Obsessive Behavior, Suicidal Ideation, Non-Graphic Suicide Attempt, And Gratuitous Pseudo-Incest. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three]

You could hear them through the walls.

Jason’s voice was clear – crystal, even. You doubted you’d ever be able to forget the sound of it, the way it dipped at the edges as he moved between his family’s authoritarian barking and the last remaining traces of his downtown Gotham drawl, how it reverberated against your throat as he muttered some fractured version of your name. Dick took a little longer. You tried not to think of him when it wasn’t absolutely necessary, but it would’ve been hard not to recognize that confidence, that carelessness, that charm layered on so thickly, it was hard to believe he wasn’t choking on it. If you hadn’t already felt so sick, you might’ve gagged.

“It’s bad. Barbara’s keeping him occupied with surveillance footage, but that’ll only buy us another hour or so.” They were talking about the manor. Bruce must’ve gotten home, by now. “Where is she?”

“Things aren’t going so fucking great here either, man.” They were getting closer. “She’s in the bedroom. It felt the safest – fewest ways out.”

You balled a sheet in your fist, aware for the first time that you were, in fact, in a bedroom. It must’ve been Jason’s apartment, but you couldn’t remember how you’d gotten here. There’d been the fairgrounds, the backseat, but nothing else. You guessed it didn’t really matter what came that. Your life had already ended. The landscape of your purgatory was inconsequential.

Fighting against the soreness, you pulled yourself up. The space was sparsely decorated save for a few cardboard boxes and a corkboard dotted with grainy pictures, but there was a door near the foot of your bed and, more importantly, a window on the other side of the room, made accessible by a plastic, fold-out card table. It took a few steps to remember how to use your legs, but finding the latch was easier, the glass pane sliding upward with only a slight amount of resistance. The opening wasn’t huge, but you could fit your shoulders through, and it opened up into an utterly deserted, utterly desolate alleyway. Judging from the fire escape on the opposite wall, you were a few stories up – four, at least.

The frame bit into your stomach as you leaned out, palms planted on the exposed brick of the exterior wall. Your feet were on the card table, and then, they weren’t – your body hanging unsupported in the air, levitation before free fall. You shut your eyes, but you never quite reached the plummet. An arm was already around your waist, a chest already against your back. You were jerked out of the window and onto the floor unceremoniously, the fall broken only by Dick. Jason was still in the doorway, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Dick, if nothing else, had the decency not to look so surprised.

“Was she trying to…?”

“She was trying to run,” Dick finished, and just like that, Jason’s expression lightened, relief taking the place of abject horror. They really were family, no matter what either of them might’ve said. A few words from his older brother, and what the younger knew to be true was rendered false, replaced with a more palatable reality.

“Can’t let you out of our sight for a second, can we?” He was talking to you now. Great. With an airy grunt, you were lifted off of the floor and deposited back onto Jason’s cot of a bed, your shoulder resting against the metal headboard. Dick knelt in front of you, smiling. That seemed to be his resting expression, as annoying as it was. “Your apartment’s not far from here, right? Don’t tell him I said anything, but B still pays the rent. I think he wants you to have somewhere safe to run off to if you ever decide to leave home.” He paused, laughed. “Not that you’d have a reason to. He’s just worried, like that. Fuck, he’s worried about you right now, even though you’re safe with us.”

Dread coiled in the pit of your stomach. You should’ve begged them to take you back to the mansion, back to Bruce, back to someone who could protect you. You should’ve made a run for the door – fight, kick, scream until you got out and caught a cab to somewhere far, far away. You had to go back, but you couldn’t go back. He could keep you safe, but he was going to kill you.

They were going to kill you.

Your gaze moved to Jason, silent and pleading. He didn’t notice, his own eyes locked on the floor. “Don’t expect much. I’ve been getting the silent treatment since—”

“Since you fucked her.”

Not the word you would’ve used, but you weren’t really in the mood to correct him. Jason set his jaw. “Yeah,” he said, after a beat. “Since that.”

Dick hummed. “Could you step out for a minute? I’m just going to do a quick check-over, make sure nothing’s damaged.”

Immediately, Jason bristled. “I’m not going fucking anywhere. Not if it means leaving you alone with her.”

For the first time that could remember, Dick’s smile faltered. He glanced over his shoulder, resting a hand on your knee in the same motion. “You called me, little wing. Do you want my help or not?”

You watched Jason intently, never once looking away. He played the role of a cornered creature well – shifting his weight from one foot to the other, crossing his arms only to let them fall to his sides a second later. When he did answer, though, it came a little too easily, a little too painlessly for the act to be believable. You couldn’t believe you’d ever fallen for it, before. “Do what you have to, but I’m staying.”

For a split second, something like hatred flashed across Dick’s expression. It cleared up quickly enough, though.

“Whatever you say.” He shrugged, pushing himself to his feet. “Just don’t move. You’ve already scared the poor thing half to death.”

You were wearing Jason’s jacket. Your shirt had been torn beyond use, and your bra was probably still on the floor of his car – in the same tangled heap as your panties, most likely. Dick eased the zipper down with care, letting the fabric slide off of your shoulders. Skin exposed to cool air, you moved to curl into yourself, but Dick caught you by the arms, holding you in place as his eyes raked over your collarbones, your chest, the string of dark, bruising marks trailing from the base of your throat to your navel. A few were from Bruce, a few from Jason. It was hard to remember which. Apparently, they liked the same spots.

Dick let out a low whistle. Your shorts were next, pulled low on your thighs, allowed to drop to your ankles only after Dick spared a glance in Jason’s direction. He fell onto the mattress next to you, arm wrapped loosely around your waist. His thumb dragged over the bruising, following the path down until he reached your—

“Don’t,” you muttered, hoarsely. “Please.”

“So she can speak,” he laughed, pressing a kiss into your temple. If he’d heard what you said, it was deemed too unimportant to acknowledge – his hand slipping between your thighs. You thought about screaming, but didn’t. You considered trying for the window again, but decided that if they were just going to stop you from toppling over the edge, it wasn’t worth the effort.

What Jason did to you hurt because you hadn’t expected it. It’d been dumb of you not to, sure, but you hadn’t. It hurt because you expected him to be better than that, expected him to care about you more, expected him to be different from the family he took such surface-level pains to distance himself from. When two of Dick’s fingers dragged over your slit, gathering the remnants of slick and cum Jason had left behind, it hurt differently – more of a cold ache than stabbing burn. You’d never liked Dick. Of all the things he could violate, your trust wasn’t on the list. This hurt because you’d known it was going to happen and tried to stop it. This hurt because it meant that you failed.

You didn’t realize you were still staring at Jason until Dick caught your chin, turning your head towards him. “It’s just you and me,” he murmured, circling your clit once, twice before forcing his digits inside of you. “Don’t pay any attention to him. He’s already gotten his time with you.”

You opened your mouth, but the only thing that escaped was some strangled, alien noise as Dick spread you open. There was another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. “You don’t have to say anything – you know I’ll always be here to look out for you, right? It doesn’t matter what kind of—” Calloused pads grinding against the walls of your pussy, his voice low and easy in your ear. “—messes the others make, you’ve got me. Since the first day B asked me to walk you to work. Tim just wants something to point his camera at, and Jason would love anything that smiled at him, but me – I’m here for you. I’m always gonna be here for you.”

Jason grunted. “You’re a dirty fucking liar.”

Dick didn’t seem to notice him, grinding the heel of his palm into your clit. You jerked away from him on reflex, but his free hand shot to the side of your head, drawing you into his side and forcing you to rest your head on his shoulder. Proximity seemed to be his main goal, your body pressed into his at every odd angle, his face buried in your neck and his hand tucked between your all-but shut legs. He reminded you of Bruce, like that – so convinced that everything would be alright if he could just pry open his ribcage and stuff you inside. Or, maybe, Dick was the opposite, desperate to burrow a hole in your flesh and live there. Either way, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

He pulled out of you abruptly, leaving your abused cunt empty, throbbing and confused. Absentmindedly, you glanced towards him, and your mistake was swiftly punished by the feeling of teeth against lips, his mouth against yours as he took you by the waist and dragged you onto his lap. You shook your head with as much strength as you could manage, but again, Dick played oblivious, only groaning into your mouth as he rutted against your hips, grinding into your cunt through the denim of his jeans. Jason raised his voice, barking something unintelligible, but Dick was already fumbling with his fly, already—

The lights cut. There was the sound of shattering glass, a rush of cool air before they clicked on again, flooding the room with brightness.

The first thing you noticed was that Dick was standing – leaving you alone on the cot while he scrambled to his feet, a child dropping the toy he wasn’t supposed to play with. The next thing was Jason, suddenly rigid at the foot of the bed, the remaining color drained from his pale face.

Finally, you twisted towards the window, following both of their eyes. There was a spray of glass and wood on the floor where the pane had been broken away, the frame itself now filled by an amorphous, black shape – identifiable only by the aura of pure, unadulterated rage radiating off of it.

Ah.

You’d been wondering when Bruce would come for you.

The drive back to the manor was short, endless, and quiet. Dick and Jason promised to find their own way back, meaning you were alone with Bruce. That was fine. At least, this way, you’d have the mercy of a private death.

For the first leg, he didn’t talk to you at all. He kept spare clothes in one of a thousand bottomless compartments – sweatshirts, drawstring pants, loose-fitting articles that could be handed out to those who’d been forced out of their homes by fire and flood without the chance to dress themselves for Gotham’s bone-deep chill – and you shuffled into something thick and shapeless while he drove. It was only after he’d slipped out of the city and into one of the many darkened, lifeless tunnels that connected his estate to the city that he sighed, let autopilot take over, and turned to you.

“Are you hurt?”

“I think I’m dying.” And then, with a shallow exhale, “I should be fine.”

He pursed his lips, resting a hand on your thigh. Involuntarily, for the first time that you could remember, you flinched away from him, throwing your body against the passenger-side door. Suddenly, it seemed like too much to be trapped in a car, too much to be so close to another person, too much to be searching for a handle and not able to find one and—

“Breathe.” It wasn’t a suggestion; it was an order. You sucked in a few staggering breaths until the pulsing in your lungs was manageable and you could think about something other than throwing yourself out of a vehicle going well over ninety miles per hour. Bruce didn’t recoil, but his grip tightened around your thigh – any pretense of affection lost in the wake of his control. “How do you feel?”

“Jason, he—I didn’t want to, but—”

“I know what happened. How do you feel?”

“Bad.” You buried your face in your hands, shaking your head. “And stupid. And so— I knew this was going to happen. I just thought, because the others were so much worse, he wouldn’t be the first to crack. And, god, he practically called me his mom right before it happened. I don’t even think they have a word for that.” You weren’t crying, but you wiped at your eyes before resurfacing. “Are you going to do anything?”

Bruce didn’t respond, not immediately. He’d already taken off his cowl, but he was still wearing the rest of his pitch-black suit – still recognizable as the hero you loved, rather than the man you hated. The scales tilted a little further towards Bruce, though, as he leaned towards you – wrapping an arm around your shoulders and locking you against his chest. You felt him bury his face in your hair, inhaling your scent. As if there was any way you didn’t reek of someone else’s, by now.

“Jason was missing, and you were gone. For half the night, I had no way of knowing if you were alive or dead.” Warm air fanned over your scalp. “This can’t happen again.”

“Does that mean you’re going to…?”

“We’ll see.”

He held you for the rest of the drive, and you let him. It was only when you pulled into the open, underground chamber he shared with his vigilante hell-spawn that he reluctantly let you go and stepped out. Bracing yourself, you followed shortly after.

You’d only seen their hideout (hideout, because you weren’t going to call it the ‘Batcave’, no matter how many times you were asked to) once, the night Bruce first brought you to the manor. That day, it’d been empty, his kids still keeping a measured distance and Bruce still too wary to let anyone get that close to you. Tonight, though, Stephanie and Tim haunted the outskirts of the sparing ring while Barbara and Harper held court in front of the largest computer you’d ever seen – scrubbing through security camera footage from outside Jason’s apartment. Duke lingered nearby, and spared you an apologetic smile as you came into sight. You weren’t sure how much he knew, but it couldn’t be a lot. The poor kid probably thought you’d been kidnapped, or better yet – actually managed to get away.

Dick and Jason were already here. They kept their distance, tactfully positioned just behind Stephanie and Tim, but you still made sure to keep Bruce between you and them. As if that’d ever done you any good.

Bruce wasn’t so thankful for the space. Raising a hand, he gestured to Dick, already moving towards the elevator. “Nightwing. Upstairs. With me.”

You flinched into yourself. “Bruce, I really—”

“This will only take a few minutes.”

It might’ve been more reassuring if he’d stopped to smile, to squeeze your shoulder, to glance at you at all. Instead, you watched as he and Dick disappeared behind titanium elevator doors, neither of them ever looking back.

The cave suddenly felt a little smaller than it had, a few seconds ago. A little more crowded.

Unsure where to go or what to do, you stayed where you were – arms crossed anxiously over your chest. Your mind drifted back to the car you’d arrived in, to the tunnels that connected you so intimately with Gotham proper, but you weren’t left to your own devices for very long. Behind you, Steph mumbled something to Tim, nudging his side. He cleared his throat before saying something to Jason, nearly too muted to be heard. “So, do you know if we’re good to…?”

“To do what, Drake?”

“You know.” And then, after a beat of silence, “What you did.”

You weren’t facing them, but you didn’t have to be. You could feel the drop in the temperature, the tension in the air. You ducked your head half a second before Jason’s fist barreled into Tim’s check, knocking him to the floor. Jason was on him before he’d even hit the ground.

The others rushed past you – Stephanie’s shocked laugh, Barbara’s raised voice, Harper’s barked threats. You were rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to hear beyond the beating of your own heart and the violent collision of skin against skin. You might’ve stayed there forever, until they killed each other, until someone was kind enough to kill you if it hadn’t been for a feather-light hand wrapping around your wrist, a gentle tug forward. You raised your head and found, surprisingly, Cassandra. Of course. You couldn’t blame yourself for not noticing her before – she tended to keep to the shadows, like that.

“Come on.” Again, she tugged at your wrist, as if it was only natural that you’d follow after her. When you failed to react, she grinned and without making a sound, pulled you into an effortless bridal carry. If you had any faith at all in the idea of safety in numbers, you might’ve screamed, thrashed, done anything to stop her. Right now, though, you just wanted to be alone, and being alone with Cas was about as close as you were going to get.

The elevator was empty by the time she reached it, Dick and Bruce having disappeared into some other part of the manor. You let her carry you to the bedroom you shared with Bruce and, rather unceremoniously, drop you onto the foot of your bed. Whatever she was looking for, it required a lot of touching to find – a palm pressed against your forehead, two fingers underneath your chin, checking your pulse. When she reached for your wrist, you waved her off, not bothering to hide your agitation, your discomfort. There wasn’t a point in playing nice, anymore.

Cassandra wasn’t so downcast. Light on her feet, she fell into a crouch, staring up at you from a little over a few feet away. “Bruce was scared you were hurt. Terrified.” Her smile never wavered. “Should be calming down, now. Jason’s safe – part of the family.”

You dragged your knees into your chest. “That’s what I thought, too.”

She started to shake her head, but didn’t get a chance to spit anything out. The bedroom door swung open and Stephanie barged inside, shutting it again after taking a discreet look down the hall. Her attention shifted to you, next – her smile nearly as bright as Cas’.

“Tim’s getting his ass handed to him.”

“Good. I hope he and Jason tear each other’s throats out.”

“Someone’s grumpy.” She fell onto the mattress next to you, arms crossed behind her head. “Is it just ’cause Jason lost his cool?”

Shrinking into yourself wasn’t enough. You were on your feet in a second, riffling through the contents of a writing desk in another. Cas turned her head, owl-like, and Stephanie rolled onto her side to watch you. “You can be honest with us. Who were you hoping for? Dick? Tim? Me?”

“A mouthful of broken glass.”

“That wasn’t one of your options, sweetheart.” You pulled open a drawer, finding little more than scraps of paper and a few abused pens. You left it open and moved onto a bedside table. “I would’ve gone with Tim. He’s the voyeur type – very hands off.”

Nothing in the bedside table, either. You grabbed the closest corner and pushed as hard as you could, but the damn solid oak only swayed once before falling back into place. Fucking rich people. You couldn’t even take your anger out on their furniture.

“Do you hate us?”

It was Cas, this time, her tone purely curious. You crossed the room to Bruce’s walk-in closet, populated dominantly by the designer suits he’d wear once or twice a month when his socialite reputation forced him to actually show his face in public. He would mention taking you to one of his events, every now and then, kiss your neck and have you try different colognes as he mused how much more bearable the night would be if he had you by his side. It would never actually happen, obviously. Bruce still had reservations about letting you walk through the garden on your own. A crowd of drunk socialites with wandering hands and ulterior motives was never really an option.

“She doesn’t.” Stephanie answered on your behalf. You shoved a hand into one of Bruce’s less frequently worn jackets, then patted down the one hanging behind it. “She’s just a little tense, that’s all. It took us all a little while to come around to family life.”

Jackpot. You felt something hollow and cylindrical through an interior pocket – a pill bottle, the contents untouched and the dosage strong. You could remember Bruce mentioning it months ago, something about staging a scandal to push a story about Batman out of the news cycle. You scanned over the label just thoroughly enough to catch the words ‘anti-anxiety’ and ‘sedative’ before pulling the container into your sleeve, letting it settle against your wrist. Whatever it was, you’d make it work.

You spun on your heels and immediately went still. There hadn’t been any footsteps, any voices, any shift in the lighting, and yet, when you turned around, Cassandra was looming above you, caging you against the wall. If she’d noticed the bottle, she didn’t seem to think anything of it. Her attention was on you – just you,dark eyes prying into the very core of your being. You spared a glance towards the doorway, now occupied by Stephanie. “Go on,” she encouraged, her gaze just as cutting. “Tell (Y/n) what you told me.”

“I’ve never had a mom, before.” She edged closer, and you moved away – your back pressing into the bar. “It’s fun.”

It was annoying. They were annoying –so fast, and so strong, and so willing to ignore your attempts to dart around her as she cupped your face and smashed her mouth into yours. Neither Bruce nor his sons had ever been the embodiment of gentleness, but Cassandra was uniquely rough around the edges, uniquely oblivious to how easily her lips bruised yours. You remembered someone mentioning that her first kiss was with one of the Supers, which made sense. She never seemed to consider that her partner may not be invincible.

Her attention span gave out before your panic-induced paralysis. You felt her teeth against the corner of your jaw, then your neck, her face eventually finding a home in the crook of your neck. Scarred hands drifted under the back of your jacket, pressing into the column of your spine, and then there were more – another pair on your shoulders, Stephanie’s voice in your ear. “I think I’ll have to wait a while longer. In-law rules – we laid them out while you were gone.” Cassandra bit into the base of your throat hard. You could feel her tongue moving over your skin as Stephanie went on. “You don’t mind if I hang around for this, though, right?”

Stephanie giggled, Cassandra’s teeth broke fresh skin, and then, you were on the floor, back slumped against the wall, staring up at Bruce as he held Cassandra by the shirt collar, having forcefully pulled her away from you. She could get away if she wanted to, lash out if she wanted to, but she didn’t seem angry, or surprised, just alert to the abrupt change in dynamic. Stephanie was crouched next to you, still smiling. After making sure you hadn’t blacked out, she pushed herself to her feet, patting Bruce’s shoulder. “Just keeping things warm for you, B.”

She made her exit hastily, despite her bravado. Bruce watched her leave before letting go of Cas. “Find the others.”

Blunt. Neat. Direct. Even that was more than she needed, really. Cassandra nodded once, then she was gone, leaving you and Bruce alone.

You wanted to yell at him. You wanted to scream. You wanted to run. You might’ve, too – raised your voice, scrambled to your feet, seen how far you could make it through the labyrinthine halls of his manor before you were caught by another set of groping hands and gnashing teeth, but all fantasies of such explicit5 resistance abandoned you the second you actually looked at him. He didn’t look cold, or irritated, or any of the awful, selfish things that would’ve made him an appropriate pincushion for the jagged needles of your anger. He looked tired.

And you were tired, too.

He held out a hand, trying to help you up. You stared at it for a second, then another, before finding your voice.

“Please don’t touch me.”

The weariness knit into his expression darkened. Sighing, he leaned forward and took you by the wrist, dragging you upright. As you stumbled onto your feet, your chest ached and the pill bottle burnt into your arm.

You walked ahead of him, back into the bedroom proper. He was still in-uniform, but the armor was slowly falling away – the gloves, the belt, then enough little, disparate parts to leave him more Bruce than Batman in front of you. Eventually, he closed what little distance there was between you. A hand on your hip, another cupping your cheek. He kissed you delicately, as if he suddenly felt the need to pretend you were made of glass. As if you couldn’t still feel the blood and saliva dripping down your chest.

Your borrowed clothes were discarded quickly enough, thrown into some shadowed corner where he wouldn’t have to think about them until morning. Your body was posed on the edge of the mattress, where he could kneel in front of you as he fucked his tongue into your cunt and sucked on your clit – a believer worshiping their idol to absolve themselves of sin. You considered telling him to stop, trying to relish that new freedom. Maybe you did. Like everything else you did, it didn’t seem to make much of a difference.

“I think they’re…” He trailed off, pushing a lingering kiss into the inside of your thigh. “I think they’re confused. Disoriented. Dick says he’s in love with you – has been since before I brought you home. Jason thinks you’ve shown some kind of preference for him.”

He usually liked to be on top, favored positions that let him fold your knees against your chest or force you to look into his eyes. Somehow, tonight, you found yourself in his lap, head resting against his chest and thighs straddling his as he guided your hips slowly, carefully. “They’re all so young. It’s not an excuse, but it can’t help.”

“Dick and I are only a year apart,” you muttered, absentmindedly. “We could’ve been in the same class.”

Bruce didn’t respond. There was another kiss, this one pressed into your forehead, and a soft groan as he rolled his hips against yours.

He came inside of you. He usually did, but still. Salt in the wound and all.

When it was over, you let him hold you, counting out the seconds. When you reached a number that felt appropriately innocuous, you squirmed and asked if you could use the bathroom.

Bruce sat up immediately. “I’ll run a bath. There’s a new bottle of vintage downstairs if you—”

“Later.” You smiled, going slack against him before picking yourself up. “Honestly, I think I just need to be alone for a minute. To put things together.”

He hesitated, but not for very long. You could feel his eyes following you as you flitted through the room, picking up a few odds and ends – a hairbrush, one of Bruce’s shirts, your discarded clothes – before slipping into the en-suite, locking the door, and dropping everything save for the little, orange pill bottle.

You got the shower running and stood in front of the sink, fiddling with the child-proof cap. In place of doubt, you felt resignation – pure, neutral awareness of what needed to be done and how to go about doing it. Any hesitation was only reflex, born of some base animal desire not to do harm to oneself. You didn’t like pain, but you’d had a win condition, a clear line between what you would tolerate and what you wouldn’t. You didn’t want to do this, but you didn’t want to find out what was on the other side of that line, either.

The pills tasted bitter. They left a layer of chalk on your tongue, a knot the size of your fist in your throat, but you did your best to wash it down. Tossing the now-empty bottle in the sink, you laid on the tiled floor, pulled your knees into your chest, and waited.

You woke up crying.

Not out loud, and not for any reason you could remember, but still – crying. Dried tears formed stiff tracks down your cheeks, saliva wetting the corners of your lips. The inside of your mouth tasted sour, acidic, like you’d thrown up recently. You weren’t sure whether or not you should’ve been surprised by that.

You weren’t in the manor. The ceiling was too low, too white, your surroundings distinctly unrecognizable despite the haze over your vision. You glanced down and found your own body in a similarly alien state. You were wearing a hospital gown, with a small collection of monitors and needles attached to your left arm. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, groaning internally. Somehow, you’d managed to screw up this, too.

You tried to sit up, but only succeeded in sinking further into the paper-thin mattress. Nothing hurt, but your body was beyond your control, still rebelling after your brain’s mutiny. With some effort, you managed to turn your head far enough to see a window, half-expecting to find the Wayne Manor courtyard outside. Instead, Gotham’s skyline stretched on as far as the eye could see – a collection of misshapen skyscrapers and sparkling city lights fighting against the early morning fog. That, if nothing else, caught you off-guard. You’d assumed that Bruce would rather watch you die than trust anyone else to take care of you.

Not that he’d ever let you out of his sight. You felt a weight settle onto the edge of your cot, heard someone let out a deep breath. You didn’t have to guess who it was.

“You took me to a hospital.”

“You didn’t leave us much of a choice.” Us. You wondered who got the privilege of carrying your body out to the ambulance, if there’d even been one. You wouldn’t put it past Bruce to rush into the emergency center, your limp form slung over his shoulder, playing the good Samaritan as he rattled off some story about finding you unconscious in an alleyway or unattended in the back of a club. Anything to keep his family’s public image under control. “You put yourself in danger.”

“You didn’t leave me much of a choice.”

His thin-lipped scowl deepened. “That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.” This time, when you tried to sit up, Bruce was there to help you – one hand on your back and the other on your shoulder as he guided you into a more respectable position. You might’ve flashed him a smile by way of gratitude, if you’d been feeling more thankful. “You knew what I was afraid of, Bruce. You must’ve been able to guess what I’d do in a worst-case scenario.”

“You never came to me about this. You never told me the kids were—”

“I did.” Your voice was muted, strained, but he went quiet as soon as you opened your mouth. He wanted a martyr, not a fight. “Please, don’t pretend this is my fault.”

For once, he seemed to listen to you. Nodding, he drew in a long breath, his expression callousing over into something rational, something beyond emotion. “It would be short-sighted to leave you unattended. During your recovery, especially.” Recovery, like you’d broken a limb. You stifled a laugh as he went on. “As the manor would present too many unknown variables, I’ve found a safe house in the city. It should be ready by the time you’re released.

A penthouse in the city. Just like you’d always wanted. “What’s the catch?”

“There is no catch. This isn’t a game.” He drummed his fingers against the over-starched sheets, wrinkling them. “The others have been generous enough to divide their patrols. They’ll be able to monitor when I can’t be there.”

Your heart dropped. “Bruce.”

“They’re as concerned for your safety as I am.”

“Bruce.”

“That’s enough.”

“It’ll kill me. They’ll kill me.”

“They’re trying to make sure you don’t get yourself killed.” At least he had the decency to sound like he believed it. “They care about you.”

You felt something rise into the back of your throat – sick and acidic and gnashing. You opened your mouth to scream, to cry, to argue, but nothing came out, your desolation silent in its totality. Bruce only sighed, resting his hand on your thigh. A small smile came to rest across his lips – exhausted, but still terrible in its sincerity.

“You’re part of the family, love.”

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