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♡ ⸝⸝ lazy morning sex w suguru ❤︎₊ ⊹ cw: nsfw
sunlight peaked through the curtains of your shared apartment. it was early morning, but the exact time was unclear. you had woken up a few minutes ago and suguru was stirring beside you. you felt him first: his big arms wrapping around you, soft lips leaving wet kisses down your neck, and the hard tent in his pants pressing against your ass.
wasting no time, you slowly grinded against him, earning a low grown from the raven haired man. his soft lips ghosted over your skin while his hands gripped your hips. you instinctively opened your legs as he inched closer to you. the only thing you had on were your flimsy sleep shorts and matching tank top. suguru snaked his hand in between your thighs and tugged off your shorts. arching into him, you spread even wider so he could reach where you ached the most.
“already soaked so for me,” he murmured. using his fingers, he spread your slick across your folds a low hum. all you could manage was a small nod. he pressed a kiss to your shoulder before slipping two fingers inside of you. you moaned into your pillow and shuddered. his long fingers reached where your own couldn’t. he curled them and you bit the pillow to muffle your embarrassingly loud moans.
he cupped your face and stroked your cheek with his thumb. “don’t hide from me. i wanna hear you.” your cunt fluttered at his words and you whimpered his name.
“you’re taking my fingers so well my love,” he cooed, picking up the pace a little. broken moans left your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. you didn’t hold back this time, letting him hear just how good he made you feel.
“my baby is so needy in the morning, isn’t she?” suguru pressed his lips to your neck. a soft cry escaped your lips, your thighs shaking as he curled his fingers again.
you shattered, the pleasure taking over you. you whispered his name quietly as you came down from your high. suguru pulled out his fingers with a wet squelch before bringing them to his lips.
“mmm,” he moaned shamelessly. you glanced over your shoulder and watched as he swirled his tongue to taste you. he smirked when he realized you were watching him, then pulled down his boxers.
precum was already oozing from his mushroom tip. you reached behind you and pumped the base of his cock, earning a low groan from him. as you glided your thumb across the head, he twitched in your palm and bucked his hips into your hand slightly.
after you teased him a bit, he did the same suguru teased your entrance, smearing your wetness with his length before pushing inside. you gasped at the stretch. he split you open as he slowly buried himself deeper and deeper inside of you. once he fully bottomed out, he began to move his hips slightly.
the angle was more agonizing than his pace. his thrusts were shallow, he barely pulled out before slipping back inside of you, but the way his tip nudged that spot deep inside made you shiver. your velvet walls clenched around him with each stroke, taking every inch.
“my pretty girl,” he whispered. you whined softly, too tired and too fucked out to think properly. "perfect, just perfect."
he rolled his hips slowly. you arched your back and grasped the pillow under your head. his dick bullied your cunt, making your brain go all fuzzy. the way he whispered sweet, yet filthy things to you wasn’t helping either.
“you take me so well, my love. the way you melt like putty in my hands drives me crazy.” he smiled into your skin. “milking the shit out of me as a ruin you. so tight, you’d think i never take care of you.”
but that wasn’t true. mornings like this with suguru were a reoccurring thing. he always found himself slipping inside of you, reaching where you needed him most.
thanks to the anon that requested this!!
ಇ.word count: 18.7k
ಇ.pairing: 𝕋oji ℤenin x 𝔽em!reader
Back from college and staying with your dad in his shitty apartment complex, the older man... your neighbor next door has been noticing you, just as you have?
ಇ.content & warnings: porn with no plot :: non canon au :: reader is implied to be thicc :: age gaps - (reader is 19-20, Toji is in his Mid 30s) :: older neighbour trope :: touching through clothes :: kissing :: oral f.rec :: pussyjobs :: multi-gasms :: p in v :: spitting :: different sex positions? :: anal play - (thumb) :: c-pied :: description's of sex and anatomy was meant to be more on the 'graphic side' ::
The back porch of apartment 07 was nothing special — just cracked concrete painted a faded green years ago, a single wobbly plastic chair, and a rusted railing that overlooked the narrow strip of shared yard nobody ever used. Summer heat clung to everything like wet cotton, thick and slow even now that the sun had dipped low enough to turn the sky bruised purple.
You’d been inside all day, scrolling on your phone until your eyes ached, hoodie zipped halfway over a thin tank top because the AC was barely spitting cool air anymore. Shorts riding up high on your thighs, the soft cotton clinging where sweat had gathered at the crease of your hips.
Ninety degrees and no breeze, so you finally gave up and dragged yourself outside to sprawl on the single step, legs stretched long, bare feet dangling over the edge.
That’s when you saw him.
Choso gets off to Toji fuckin’ you next door
cw: explicit, creampie, perv!choso listening to u get railed.
Cho is such a fucking perv. He’s pressed against the thin dorm wall like a fucking addict, one hand shoved down his sweatpants, the other braced flat against the cold plaster. The wall is so thin he can hear everything.
Because next door the wet squelch of your pussy echoing through the wall like it’s happening right in front of him. He can picture it so clearly it hurts. You on all fours, back arched, ass up while Toji grips your hips. “Fuck—Toji—right there—ahh—”
Choso’s cock twitches hard in his fist the second he hears you moan Fushiguro’s name again. His grip tightens, thumb smearing the steady leak of precum over the flushed head as he strokes faster, shame burning in his chest.
He knows he should stop. He knows this is pathetic. But he can’t. Not when he can hear your pretty little moans and whimpers from his room next door. “Shit… shit—” he whispers to himself, voice trembling.
He shouldn’t be getting off to this. He really, really shouldn’t.
But Toji’s next thrust must hit deep because your moan is exactly the way it used to when Choso first fucked you. Except this one is louder. “Oh! F-fuck—h-harder, p-please. Hnngh f-feels s-so good!” You whimpered as Choso strokes faster, his breaths turn into soft pants.
Toji bullys his cock faster into your wet cunt. “Yeah? You like that, baby? Taking my cock like a good girl—listen to how wet you are for me.”
Choso whimpers as his hips jerk forward into his own hand like he’s the one buried inside you, thick cock throbbing painfully as he pictures it: pussy wet and swollen, Toji’s hips snapping against your ass. Another moan from you, “Ji—nghh—harder—”
Choso’s eyes roll back as knees buckle a little and he has to lean more of his weight against the wall. His strokes turn sloppy, frantic and the wet schlick of his fist barely audible under the obscene sounds from next door.
He can hear the exact moment Toji changes angle—your gasp pitches up into a desperate cry, the bedframe banging harder against the shared wall. “Hnngh—fuck—yes—!” You moan so prettily it makes Choso’s balls draw up tight.
He’s leaking so much it’s dripping down his knuckles now, cock flushed dark and ready to come. Every time you moan for Toji, Choso’s hips twitch like he’s trying to fuck the wall, chasing the same rhythm.
He cums with a strangled, embarrassingly loud whine, thick ropes spilling over his fist and onto his stomach in messy pulses. His hips keep twitching, hand still working himself.
Through the wall he hears Toji groan satisfied, followed by your soft, fucked-out laugh and the wet sound of a lazy kiss. Choso stays slumped against the wall, chest heaving, cum cooling on his hand and the paint, face burning with humiliation and leftover pleasure. His spent cock gives one last weak twitch in his messy palm.
He’s such a fucking perv… and he already knows he’ll be right back here tomorrow night when Toji fucks you again.
a/n: perv Cho is my FAVORITEEE
Toji masterlist 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯
☆ = smut ; mdni. | ♡ = fluff / angst.
. . . toji x chubby/curvy!fem reader
lil drabbles. ☆
toji coming home to you. + kissing. ♡
topless on the beach w/ toji ♡
nasty sex w/ toji ☆
insecure reader + toji comfort ♡
first time sitting on tojis face ☆
older toji loves messing with his woman ☆
make-up sex after an argument with toji ☆
crawling under tojis sweater while he counts money ♡
hubby toji coming home to you all ready for him ♡/☆
toji when you grumble about him in your native language ♡
toji when he has to leave you for work in the morning ♡
telling toji you're gonna lose weight, but he gets sad instead. ♡
toji mean mugging anyone who looks at you while shopping. ♡
. . . other toji x fem!reader
boyfriend toji takes you to ikea ♡
taking boyfriend toji to pottery class ♡
toji pissing his wife off on purpose ☆
aftercare with toji ♡
boyfriend toji getting used to your pet cat ♡
boyfriend toji and your pet chihuahua ♡
toji dry humping with you ☆
toji comforting you during an anxiety attack ♡
cockwarming with toji ☆
toji taking care of you when you're sick ♡
toji teaching you how to fight ♡
toji getting jealous when someone hits on you ♡
toji when you're insecure without makeup ♡
toji comforting you on your period ♡
toji being a titty obsessed freak ☆
gamer toji flaunting you on stream ♡
reverse cowgirl with toji ☆
loafing with tojis cat ♡
dancing in the kitchen with husband toji ♡
toji babying you after an argument ♡
tojis toddler stealing you from him ♡ (+ megumi)
toji loves massaging your ass ♡
. . . papa toji (x fem!mama reader)
papa toji and his blessings ♡
papa toji and his daughters nap time ♡
papa toji letting his daughter get away with anything ♡
papa toji teaching his daughter how to walk ♡
papa toji holding his daughter as she gets her ears pierced ♡
firefighter!dad toji when you come to visit him at the station with your kids ♡
papa toji and his girls first time in the sea ♡
. . . valentines day edition toji fic (x fem!reader)
toji spending valentines day with pregnant!reader ♡
toji taking you out for dinner on valentines day ☆
. . . gruff older boyfriend toji series (x fem!reader)
toji always protects his angel ♡
cutting tojis hair for him ♡
soft cuddle sex with older boyfriend toji ☆
pre-relationship giving older stranger toji head in his car while he smokes ☆
toji and his shy girlfriend whos scared to ask for affection ♡
toji and your pretty stockings ☆ light smut
texting toji during your lecture ♡
toji loves cumming all over your face ☆
toji catches you putting him into tomodachi life ♡
ragebaiting toji except you're all sweet about it ♡
. . . mechanic toji series (x fem!reader)
intro. mechanic toji helping you out at the car shop ♡
mechanic toji picking you up when your car breaks down ♡
. . .running away with older toji series (x fem!reader)
intro. running away in tojis car ♡
. . .hockey player toji (x fem!reader)
toji beating up naoya on the rink for cheating on you ♡
. . .ex bf boxer toji ( x fem nurse!reader)
ex bf boxer toji getting patched up by his nurse!ex ♡
ex bf boxer toji calling u late at night ♡
. . .rough toji x sweet girl reader
toji doesnt let anything bad in life stain his sweet girl. ♡
more to come...
toji x chubby!reader??? baby im in heaven tysm wtf.
18+ big hairy doberman!toji is here to help !
゛⸝⸝ ⋆ aka the bunny!reader saga continues prev
“naaaanaaaamiiiiiin~!”
you whine, voice all high and wobbly, dragging yourself out of your room to where kento lounges on the couch. several hours of him giving it to you real good made you fall asleep long enough to forget about the disturbing ache deep in your abdomen. until you woke up with a puddle of slick between your tights, that is.
“it’s so baaad… my ears are burning and my tail won’t twitching! make it better pleeease?”
nanami sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, but there’s a fond little smile tugging at his lips. no matter how exhausted he is, it’s hard not to be endeared by you.
“sweetheart, i’ve tried everything i can,” he says gently, dropping his hand to stroke one of your velvety ears when you collapse onto the couch with your head in his lap. you lean into his hand automatically with a happy little sound, but he doesn’t miss the micro twitches of your hips. “you need… well, you need more than i can give right now. a proper knot.”
your eyes go wide, sitting up and ears standing straight. “a… a knot? like, a real one? but—”
“i know.” he kisses your forehead, all soft and reassuring. “that’s why i called the neighbor.”
you blink.
“neighbor…?”
TEN-TICKLES W/ SATORU GOJO ! 18+ M.LIST
Comic by @baobei-bu TYSM FOR LETTING ME WRITE THIS!! 3.5k
⚠️: Perv!Satoru x Sorcerer!Reader, Hentai Logic, Porn w Minimal Plot, Smut, Filthy use of Jujutsu, CNC (It’s Tentacles), MeanDom!Satoru, Outfit like Shoko’s Sorcerer Uniform, P in V, Oral (M!receiving), Anal, Marathon + Rough Sex, Creampie, Morally Grey, Manipulation, Tummy Bulge, Size Kink, Dacryphilia, Needy Satoru, Degradation, Praise, Baby-trapping, Double & Triple Penetration, FILTHHHHH, Rushed Ending (Ran Out of Ideas) NOT PROOFREAD
Taglist: @1stmagnoila @koriknowsball @jinjen @elegantmakercoffee (comment 2 b added)
Satoru’s so cute & twisted ! I hope you enjoy my ovu fic :D
Satoru’s been begging you to take a stroll with him for hours. He says he just wants to spend time with you, his bestest friend, but you know he has something up his sleeve. It’s written in the knowing grin that adorns his perfect face.
“Please, angel! Just for THIRTY minutes. It’s breezy out, and I can hold you close to keep you warm! We can’t waste this perfectly good weather!” He pouts.
You ignore him even as he hugs you from behind, pecking at your neck and down to your collar. He tugs on the small skirt of your uniform, now nipping on your skin. You swat him away and take a step forward. Then, you cross your arms, turning to raise your eyebrow at the overgrown manchild.
“Are you a dog or a man, Satoru?” You mock.
He smirks. “Anything you want me to be, baby.” Satoru flashes you his pretty pearly whites followed by a condescending—perhaps a bit playful, wink.
You roll your eyes, think it over, and finally sigh.
“Ten minutes.” You glare. “That’s all you get.”
The white-haired man grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and drags you to a car that’s been parked upfront since Satoru started talking. “I thought we were going to walk?”
“We are, but I know a spot, and Ijichi’s going to take us there.” He giggles like a kid with a menacingly stupid plan.
Looking back, it made you a little bit suspicious—Satoru giggling and all that crap. However, it also made you reeeeeeeaaal curious.
On the way to the “spot,” you let Satoru trail his restless fingers on your body. He kept poking, squeezing, and pulling on your flesh like a working adult playing with a stress toy. You tell him off and swat his hands away when he does too much, but the bastard only pouts and leaves a peck on the reddened skin and continues with his ministrations.
You’re well aware that it’s been over ten minutes, but you don’t mind. Instead, you curl up next to Satoru, sleeping soundly against his side.
Now that he can’t annoy you, he turns his attention over to Ijichi, making sure not to move too much as to not disturb your rest.
“Ijichi-kun! She’s so pretty, no?”
In his mind, he panics. Was this a mind game or a real question? The poor boy responds with a very awkward smile. “Very pretty, Gojo-san!” He says with pure honesty.
“Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding!!” Satoru cheers. Then, he yells, “Oh wait, we’re here!”
Ijichi stops abruptly, and Satoru catches you before you fall. You wake up because of the sudden movement, annoyance written all over your face.
“What’s going on?” You ask, yawning softly. An of course, before answering, Satoru fawns over your pretty face, giving the apple of your cheek a soft kiss.
For the nth time today, he smiles. “We’re here!”
Looking out the window, you’re met with a foggy forest in, seemingly, the middle of nowhere. “Where exactly is ‘here’?”
He shrugs. “Not important, let’s go!” The door of the ridiculously expensive car flings open, and everything happens too fast.
“Satoru!” You yelp as he tugs you out, waving goodbye to Ijichi as he pulls you into the creepy woods.
This is where he wants to walk? Not even a park or a flowery meadow? What the hell is Satoru up to?
Leaves crunch beneath your shoes as thick fog blocks your vision. It’s chilly, which raises the goosebumps on your skin. Of course, Satoru notices.
“You okay, pretty? Sense somethin’?”
“N—No… do you?” You ask, confused. Were you supposed to be sensing a curse? Is this supposed to be a mission?
“Yes, I do.” My raging boner. He snickers to himself. “But you have to give it a try, pretty.”
Your senses seem both heightened and nullified at the same time. It’s a weird mix, and you don’t know what to do. On one hand, you’re compelled to run; on the other, you know that Satoru would save you no matter what. Do you just let things happen or do you blast the fuck out of here?
You choose the former, staying close to the tall man as you tremble in the air that still feels wintry. Your breath puffs out in white, which makes Satoru smile. He hugs you close to his side, seeing you trembling tugs at his heartstrings. He holds your hand, giving you a comforting smile as you look up at him. “Why’re we here, ‘Toru…?” You question. “Tell me the truth.”
“But who said I was lying? What if I just wanted to—”
“Satoru!”
He sighs. “Fine, fine…” He pouts. “You’re such a killjoy, pretty.”
You only glare.
“I have a mission here ‘is all…”
The fog makes you feel hazy, weird, and heavy. “Then why’d you want me to come? You’re more than capable of handling a mission yourself.” You ask, barely keeping yourself upright.
“Because I want you to cu—” Before Satoru could finish, the ground opens up to reveal a cave of amethyst-like tentacles. It grabs his leg but leaves yours. Soon enough, he is nowhere to be found on the surface.
“Satoru!” You yell, this time, more concerned than anything. First, you try and survive, sobering up from the heavy clouds you’re sure is infested. You run away from the long slimy suckers that chased after your form as fast as you can. “Ijichi! Call for help!” You shout, hoping the bespectacled gentleman could hear.
You round the crater made by the curse and try to reach for Satoru, but you couldn’t see him nor was he making any noise. Suddenly, another hole erupts from underneath the pile of leaves, and you push yourself back. Unfortunately for you, the curse easily caught on despite your mid-air curve.
Purple tentacles immediately claim its stake on your lips, arms, stomach, and legs. From a distance, you hear Satoru yell. “Help!” Panic shoots up your chest. You immediately squirm, trying to release yourself from the suctioned trap to no avail.
“Satoru!” You squeal, muffled because of the stupidly large appendage on your mouth.
“Help!”
The tentacles loosen and you fall through the cracks. A high-pitched scream escapes your mouth as you’re dropped. You try to use your technique, but the purple slime left on your hands made you feel a little bit funny.
You’re caught by the purple limbs before hitting anything else. Now, facing below you, you’re met with a smiling Satoru, who seems to be enjoying and not at all in grueling pain.
“Finally, baby. I was worried you’d never make your way here.” He says as the tentacles fold your calves to your thighs, spreading your legs wide.
“Why the hell were you screaming for help?!” You huff.
“Help me undress.” He grins.
“You’re insufferable.” You scoff.
“And you’re tied up… like a rope bunny.”
Your eyes widen. “Excuse you?!”
“What? I’m just calling it as it is!” He laughs.
You thrash around, depleting your much needed energy. “I’m going to bite your dick off Satoru Gojo!”
That same lazy smirk sits on his face without a care in the world about what you do or say. “Please do, baby.”
“What is wrong with you?!”
He shrugs. “You.” He teases. “But anywaysssss, I have a joke, baby girl.”
“A joke?” You sigh, knowing you literally have nothing else to do but wait for Ijichi to realize that you’re both not coming back to campus unless he sends help. “What the fuck is a joke going to—”
Satoru ignores your perfectly acceptable query. “How many tickles can you give a tentacle curse before it lets go?” He interjects.
You only look at him annoyed and confused.
His smile doesn’t falter. “Ten-tickles!” He laughs.
“Funny.” You deadpan.
“Of course it is, angel. Your beautiful, tall, and handsome ‘best friend’ said it!”
You roll your eyes. “What’s with the air quotes, loser?”
“‘Cause we’re more like soulmates really—cosmically attached. ESPECIALLY when my dick is inside you. Any hole works, really.”
Again, you roll your eyes as he used one of his long pale fingers to poke and tease the tentacles surrounding him. “But anyways, watch.” Slowly, the suckers unwrap his arms. “It relaxes the curse, y’know?” He lectures.
He does the same for his legs, fully freeing his large form. Then, his eyes shift to your face. “Hey, angel.” He says like you aren’t dangling on top of him like bait.
Your cheeks heat up as you feel something poking and prodding horrifically close to your aching dripping cunt. “Help me, Satoru…” You whimper as the tentacle wraps around the entirety of your thigh, slithering up as it plays with your pussy through the soft fabric of your stockings and panties.
The tip of the girthy limb twists on the damp spot of the cloth, and you let out a soft moan while trying to keep your gaze away from Satoru. However, like an absolute dick, he takes two fingers and lifts your chin, thumb rubbing condescendingly on your pretty skin. “No, baby. Keep your eyes on me, m’kay?”
“But…” You whine, feeling the growing pulse between your legs quicken and strengthen. “Sa-hah—Satoru…”
The man tuts, gently pecking your parted lips. “You’re so cute!” He chides.
“Please, ‘Toru…”
“Please what, pretty?”
“Please help me… hah—”
How the hell is he able to walk on those slimy restless suckers?! And how the fucking hell does he know its weaknesses?
Satoru looks down at you like a brilliant idea just popped up in his mind—eyes widening and body jutting like an emoticon. He smirks, and you immediately notice his bulge that’s a mere inch away from your face, such a vulgar scene, really.
“What are you doing, ‘Toru?” You ask shyly as he starts to palm his pre-dripping cock through the fabric of his uniform.
He groans, obviously worked up. “You know exactly what I’m doing, baby. Don’t act stupid, you aren’t on my dick yet.” His hand falls to the silver buckle of belt, loosening his pants in one click.
“Satoru!” You shriek.
The tentacle, still hasn’t stopped twisting against your heart, but at least it’s not your clit, right?
Well… now it is.
“Tell me what’s wrong, angel. I’ll fix it for ya.” Purple limbs now twist around your own, circling your appendages like they’re jacking your whole body off.
Pornographic moans echoes through the never ending chambers of the domain. You can’t even speak—pleasure and anxiety mixing to render you completely speechless. “I—jus… hah! Wanna… mmfhmeee! Fuck.”
“Mm, fucking doesn’t sound wrong, pretty.” He laughs, crouching down again to meet your eyes. “D’ya wanna fuck? I’m sure you’ll have fun.”
You whimper, watching his aura shift. The playful Satoru is nowhere to be seen. Now, you’re stuck in this cursed sex fantasy with your best friend (sometimes friends with benefits) and colleague turned sex-crazed pervert, Satoru Gojo! And fortunately unfortunately for you, he wants to do more with you right now than just exorcising this curse.
Finally, you spit out the words he’s been dying for. “Fuck! Please fuck me, Satoruuu!” You squeal, and he smiles.
“Hmm.. but I think I should use your mouth-pussy first, no? Fill your stomach up with my cum then your slutty cunt.” You look horrified as he speaks (horrified that he’s not going to insert his dick in your aching hole already). “You looked so disappointed, pretty. Maybe I’ll fuck you in the ass first before your pretty little pussy, no?“ He smirks.
He then points at your mouth mockingly. “First here.” Now, he points at your ass hole. “Then here.” Slowly, his fingers trace over your skin, playing with the folds of your dripping cunny through the soaked fabric that gives waaaaay too much away. With brute strength, he tears the stockings and hooks a finger under the pad of your panties to tug it to the side, exposing the puffy labia to the warm feel of his rough fingers. “Lastly, here. That’s one round each and three rounds total! ‘Think ya can handle that, baby?” He says like this is supposed to be a fair deal set in an office.
You shake your head all scared and pouty.
“Huh? Use your words, pretty girl. I can’t understand stupid mumblings from bimbos.” He says, snide as if he isn’t talking to you.
“I can’t, ‘Toru!”
“Aww, that’s no way to speak of your abilities, pretty…” He nudges the tentacles like he did before, freeing you from their hold. You land on the floor, if you can even call it that, with a soft thud, but the limb that keeps playing with your folds still won’t let up.
Satoru just stands, waiting for you to act first. You know what he wants, and he knows that you know it.
Tentacles from underneath wrap around your arms and legs again. This time, it doesn’t lift you up. You’re in a sitting position with a shaft underneath you and your face on par with Satoru’s hard on.
His hands are above his hips, waiting.
“C’mon, baby. Y’know ya want to.” He smirks.
You’re annoyed, but he’s not wrong. You want him to fuck you stupid.
“But what if we get caught?” You mumble.
“We won’t.” He says.
“How are you so sure?”
He crouches down to be at your eye level, one knee on the ground. “Because I planned this.” Again, he smirks. “I was here last week, about to exorcise this ‘sex fantasy’ curse, as the higher ups put it, but I wanted to try it out with you.”
“You’re such a pervert.” You huff.
He grabs you away from the horrendous appendages, and lays down, the suckers making a bed with an elevated head rest for him, this fucking jerk.
“If you had to look at someone as pretty as yourself 24/7 while she pounces on you every time she can, you’d do this too. It’s just a taste of your own medicine, sweetheart.”
“No, it’s not….” You pout, adjusting yourself on his abdomen. “I just like your warmth, pervert.”
“Oh? So you like this pervert’s warmth? Then, by the transitive property, you, too, are a pervert!”
“That’s not how that works.” You huff. “Stupid.”
Stupid, huh? He’ll show you stupid.
“Hm, well then.” He pushes you down, letting the tentacles latch back onto your skin as you slide down his body while purple suckers help him strip his pants off along with his dark boxers.
Now, his hard cock is right in front of you, waiting to be met by the warmth of your pretty mouth. “Suck.” He orders, and you follow. First came a fee kitten licks that already left the needy Satoru gasping for air. He may talk a big talk, but one touch from you and he’s toast.
Long pale fingers tangle in your hair, but he doesn’t push. “Fuck yeah—hah! You’re so good, pretty girl…” He says while you bob your head up and down his length.
As you’re preoccupied with Satoru’s girth, the curse rips your uniform right off, leaving your whole body drenched in the sticky purple fluid that seemed to negate your abilities.
You’re too pretty for him. It’s a wonder how you think he’s still pretty after seeing all his scars. Maybe if he gained more, you’d stop having sex with him for good. To keep himself from prematurely ejaculating, he thinks about who you’d choose if not him. Perhaps Kento Nanami, no? Tall, blond, jacked, kind, and kind of a pleaser—he’s probably your type. Or maybe you’d fully rebel and join Ryomen Sukuna and become his queen. You’d love that, right? A lavish life with blood shed just for your deepest darkest desires.
Unfortunately for him, those thoughts only serve to quicken his orgasm. Jesus, was he a fucking cuck?!
The white-haired nuisance keeps whispering your name like a prayer between hot breaths. He’s too far gone to even think of telling you that he’s about to cum. You’re just surprised when he finally pushes your head down, forcing you to swallow his salty seed. He doesn’t keep you down for long, he’s not a monster. Almost immediately, he lets up, throwing his head back as he pants, spurts of thick white cum still erupting from the slit of his mushroom tip.
It takes him a little longer than usual to catch his breath, so you get worried. “Are you okay, ‘Toru..?” You say in such a shy tone that the blood in his head rushes down to his dick once again. His shaft stands tall and proud, ready for the next hole Satoru decides to shove it in.
“Sorry… you jus’ felt so good, baby.”
Your cheeks are lightly dusted with pink, and it makes Satoru smile. “You’re filthy, ‘Toru…”
“Don’cha like that?”
“Not when we’re in public… or underground…”
“Why? Isn’t that the exciting part. I bet even your ass is leaking.” He laughs. Then, you yelp as the tentacles turn you around, spreading your legs and pointing your lower half towards the ceiling of barely visible amethyst limbs, successfully setting the ever so elegant pose—face down, ass up.
“No way…” You mumble. Was he really going to do this here? You seriously doubt this impatient slut put up a curtain. Surely, a random person could fall in at any time.
Satoru’s eyes feast on your dripping cunt and soaked ass hole. It’s most likely from your slick traveling all over your skin. Your juices make your folds glisten as if bathed in only the finest glitter. He smiles at the thought. After this, he’d have to bathe you in pure gold before you’d even think of forgiving him. He knows you’ll hold a grudge. Who wouldn’t?
He gets on his knees, aligning himself with your backdoor. Before going in, he removes his shirt, huffing about how hot it is.
“Ready, pretty?”
You nod, dreading the stretch, but you don’t feel the stinging pain. You shriek as he starts to move in and out, only to have your mouth defiled by the horrible tentacles that weirdly tasted like Satoru’s favorite perfume. Hm… maybe it wasn’t that bad.
Satoru and the curse move at confusing paces. It’s weird, it’s scary—it’s exciting.
Plap, plap, plap, plap !
Dirty squelching, whiny moans, and cute sniffles. That was all you could hear for an hour straight. Satoru’s switched positions, ejaculated inside you, and used up all of your sorry holes.
After he came and used your ass, Satoru laid you on your back and gave you the creampie you’ve been waiting for. His thrusts went deep and hard like he wanted to put a baby deep inside of you, and maybe that was the plan.
His words echo like broken promises in your mind. “You won’t leave me, yeah?” He rasped. “This pussy’s fuckin’ mine, right, baby?”
“Say yes, say yes for me, pretty girl…” He cooed. Fuck, just thinking about it got you wet again, and he could absolutely feel it. Your pussy clenched around him, and to no one’s surprise, he came more.
You thought, for sure, his balls would have already been emptied, but no. Satoru always has his cum ready for you! All for his sweet best friend, who he’s always kept at arms’ reach.
He doesn’t want you to leave like Suguru did, so maybe his dick will make you stay, no?
As he fucks the last of his seed into your womb, he plops onto the pile of purple limbs, tired. You fall onto his bare chest, spent.
“‘Toru…” You murmur.
“Yes, baby?”
“Is this really happening?” You ask as the darkness the surrounds you starts to dissolve.
You see a smirk creep up his face, and it makes your stomach whirl. Somehow, the two of you are back on the surface with clothes underwear and clothes on like nothing ever happened.
“I told you it was a sex fantasy curse, didn’t I?” He smiles as he stands, helping your wobbly legs stand up straight.
You lean on his chest to steady yourself, letting the large man intertwine his fingers with yours. “Aren’t you supposed to exorcise it?”
“Nah, it’s much more fun playing with it. Plus, it harms no one.” He shrugs. “We’ll just enjoy our little hookups a bit more than before.” He winks.
“We’re never doing that again.”
“Riiiiiight, sure. So you’re saying if I slide your panties to the side right now, your pussy’d be completely dry?”
“Well no—”
He places a finger on your mouth. “Yup, that’s all I needed to hear.” He says as he picks you up and peppers your face with a thousand kisses.
You giggle and he nuzzles his head onto your neck. Really? You’re this sweet with the guy who JUST rearranged your guts? Seriously?
“Though, I am really sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to hurt you, y’know that, right? Jus’ wanted us to have some fun, and you did have fun, yeah?”
Your cheeks heat up when you nod. What an embarrassing thing to admit!
He raises his hand and waves at Ijichi, calling the man, who has no idea about the absolute filth that had just happened, over. “I’ll take you back to the penthouse, pretty.” He kisses your cheek then your neck. “I’ll show you how sorry I am, okay?”
You nod almost immediately as if this whole act was an excusable offense. Wow, ‘guess you’re both just fucking freaks.
© wkbsrco, DO NOT repost/steal/copy/feed to AI
pssssst… join my discord server
Didn’t you want a baby? Your boyfriend can help! (MDNI 18+)
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"mngh- ji..!" The desperate moan tumbles from your lips, raw and needy, as Toji's thick cock plunges into your drenched pussy, splitting you open with every merciless thrust.
You're splayed out on the bed like an offering, wrists pinned above your head in one of his massive hands, your legs hooked over his broad shoulders, your body folded in half like he's determined to bury himself as deep as humanly possible. His scarred hands grip your thighs bruisingly, holding you open and exposed, and every brutal thrust sends jolts of pleasure-pain ripping through your core.
"Fuck, that's it, mama.” Toji growls, his voice rough and low, dark eyes locked on where you're joined—watching his thick length disappear into your dripping folds over and over.
He's relentless, hips snapping with a punishing rhythm, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the room. Megumi's napping soundly in his room, the almost-three-year-old finally giving you these precious, uninterrupted moments, but right now, all that matters is the overwhelming stretch of Toji's girth claiming you completely.
You'd mentioned it once, offhand during dinner the other night—something sweet about how adorable it would be to have a little one of your own, picturing tiny feet pattering around the house with megumi.
You hadn't pushed, hadn't begged—it was just a passing thought, born from that deep-seated ache of baby fever. But Toji?
He hadn't let it go.
His dark eyes had flickered with something possessive, intense, and now here you were, paying for that casual whisper with your body folded beneath him, his hips snapping forward like he was on a mission to etch his seed into your very soul.
"Keep moanin' like that, doll..” he snarls, voice gravelly and edged with hunger, his free hand digging into the soft flesh of your hip to hold you steady as he grinds deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every stroke. “You want a baby, mama? Gonna give you one. Fuck you full 'til it takes."
He's watching you intently, scarred face twisted in concentration, sweat dripping from his brow onto your heaving breasts. Your nipples pebble under the cool air, begging for touch, and he obliges roughly—leaning down to latch onto one, sucking hard enough to make you yelp, teeth scraping as his tongue flicks the peak.
Your walls flutter around him, squeezing his pulsing length like a vice, and you can't hold back the sobs of pleasure as he angles his hips just right, hammering that spongy spot inside you. "Toji—ahh, fuck, it's too much!"
He releases your nipple with a pop, trailing bites up your neck as he murmurs hot against your ear. "Didn't think I'd forget, did ya? You want my kid? You're gettin' it, mama. Gonna pump this tight pussy so full of cum, you'll be leakin' it for days."
His fingers—rough and calloused—slip between your thighs, finding your throbbing clit and pinching it lightly before rubbing in firm, fast circles. The added friction shatters you, your back arching off the bed as your orgasm rips through, pussy convulsing wildly around him, gushing slick down his shaft.
"Shit—yeah, that's it, cream all over my cock.”
Toji groans, his rhythm faltering for a split second before he doubles down, fucking you through the waves with short, punishing thrusts. He's close now, you can feel it in the way he swells inside you, veins throbbing against your sensitive walls.
“Take it, mama. Every fuckin' drop—gonna knock you up, make you mine forever." With a guttural curse, he buries himself to the hilt and erupts, hot spurts of cum flooding your womb, thick and endless as he rocks his hips to push it deeper.
You whimper, overstimulated and boneless, as he stays lodged inside, plugging you full to let it take hold. His hand strokes your belly possessively, a smirk curling his lips. "Say it again—tell me you want my baby, mama.”
You can only nod, already knowing he won't stop until it takes.
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#need that
mdni Little Red x Werewolf!Toji 18+ OFFICAL MASTER & TAG LIST
🍓"Little Red in Werewolf Toji's Bed" ━ Picking berries and you end up in Toji's cabin and bed. 🍓“Berry-Sweet Tease" ━ Using said berries to tease him. │cw. somnophilia │ 🍓"It's the full moon, you know what that means" ━ Full moon's coming up, he tells you to leave but you end up back in his bed anyway. 🍓"Making sure you always smell like him" ━ His wolfie claim on you │cw. rough sex │ 🍓Domestic Life With Werewolf!Toji & Part two ━ Cuddling him & Pulling his Tail 🍓Berry Picking with Werewolf!Toji ━ berry picking turning into sex in da woods │cw. outdoor sex │ 🍓Mornings & Slow Shower sex ━ slow mornings with the big bad wolf 🍓Brat Tamer! & Part Two ━ y/n gives him attitude and disobeys him & the aftermath 🍓Angst Drabble One! ━ how he handles you being independent without him 🍓Angst Drabble Two! ━ he lowk has abandonment issues 🍓"The Smutty Little Secret" ━ caught reading a smut novel and hiding it from him 🍓"His Weight On You" ━ Fluff Drabble ━ He's just so damn big and cuddly 🍓"Messy when He Eat's" ━ Fluff Drabble ━ no table manners fr 🍓The first time you gave him a Blow-job ━ as the title says 🍓"his new bad habit" ━ first time sniffing your panties~ 🍓Toji dealing with you while Ovulating ━ helping y/n through ovulation~ 🍓Werewolf!Toji x Little Red x Werewolf!Shiu ━ THREESOME WITH WEREWOLF!SHIU 🍓"useful little helper" ━ not much "help" when he needs it 🍓Laundry Activities ━ laundry and pussy 🍓"Granny's coupons for sex toys" ━ as the title says 🍓His tail teasin' ━ his tail has a mind of its own when it comes to you 🍓"His Little Fox" ━ he makes you his little fox, ears and a tail! to match
© torusbabe 2026.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT COPY OR USE.
─★⸝⸝🍓‧₊ !! @yummidumplingss @barbatoswh0r3 @atlafan032404 @burntbayleaves @xenith-aries @sheerlilacs @jeanks-favwife @deeplytwistedrealm @booboobear-12 @sukuzaynegirly0905 @anothergojostan @moon-stone-987 @sukunasl-ttywh0re @amarislovesmcdonalds @wivitw @piinkcoke @megum1sstepm0m-blog @idyllicdaydreams ─★⸝⸝🍓‧₊ !!
reposting this bc wtf? how am I known on tt, unc don't even use tiktok help
IF ANYONE IS READING THIS SERIES READ IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING BY @/reignpage
「 🔴 RECORDING 」
found footage of satoru's student years... recorded on the camcorder that he carried around everywhere.
warnings : heavy angst, fluff, implied death, not proofread
[ the first footage is one minute long. there's two blue eyes widening comedically on the screen. the resolution is low and the audio is tinny. ]
"Ooo it works... well hellooooooo there... i'm... GOJO!! SATORU!! and this is... suguuuuruu getooooo... oh look at that walk, you're such a model."
[ the camera is on suguru, who's walking with bad posture. he doesn't like the camera. ]
[ he has his old hairstyle; this was recorded before his hair was long enough to be in the bun style. he hides his face from the camera. ]
"... aw, he's a model that doesn't like cameras. anyways... this is the beautiful... STUNNING... hot... talented... playing-hard-to-get... (haha kidding)... y/n~"
[ the camera pans to you. you can hear the flirty tone in satoru's voice. ]
"... we are currently walking through the gates of hell..."
[ the camera pans to the school. the resolution clears for a second to show a blue sky with slowly drifting clouds. ]
"okay. we have arrived in hell; look there's satan himself—"
[ the camera pans to yaga. ]
[ the footage ends with yaga confiscating satoru's camera and scolding him. ]
[ a video starts off shaky. the camera is dropped on the train floor and suguru sighs. ]
"satoru...... did you just break it after having it for one day?"
[ satoru picks it up and gives a toothy smile to the screen. ]
"nah. she's all good. not even a scratch. ooh... suguru we look so hot. and look how hot y/n is... she's so scandalous — sittin' next to me on the train. this proximity's got me sweatin', baby... kidding kidding... don't gimme that look!"
[ suguru gives the middle finger to the camera and satoru's iconic laugh sounds beautiful even through the crap audio quality. ]
[ there's a 3 minute video that's half-corrupted of a party happening in your apartment... of just you, satoru, suguru and shoko. lykke li's "i follow rivers" is playing loudly, satoru is screaming the lyrics in broken english and suguru is recording you and him dancing like maniacs. shoko is offering her cigarette to the camera and blowing smoke into the lens. ]
[ there's a 25 second clip of satoru aggressively kissing you until you laugh. ]
[ there is a photo of satoru crouching to pet a cat. he's holding an umbrella. ]
okay bro.
god bless the jjk writers of tumblr
@kkunai @polaroidsex @madamechrissy @blkkizzat @sweetieelilii @sweethearticism @chososkink @cumironi @hrtfreak @heartkaji @deartoru @lemonjuicie @sukunasweetheart @sukunasleftbanana @reignpage @kamiflix, @tonycries @uzugeto @yeagersss @kill3ill @tojiscreampie @tojipie @peachygelic @rubyys-domain @hervanillabby @slutla @fricks @veejiez @screampied @gojosconsort, @astriiixx , @mimuju @gojodickbig @satoruined @keistriction @agejonami (GODD BLESSSS Y'ALLLL!!!!!)
OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU????? SOBBING TYSM.. ♡(。- ω -)
PROF!NANAMI & PROF!HIGURUMA x reader !
in which . . ethics professor nanami and law professor higuruma just can’t stay away from their cute star student.
౨ৎ explicit content (18+) ┄ content. afab!reader pervy!professors legal age gap praise m. masturbation petnames double oral f. rec. fingering squirting handjob edging overstim pussyjob p talking light p slapping spitting eiffel tower position mating press dacryphilia dumbification light choking improper use of a tie sloppy seconds breeding k creampies wc. 8k. masterlist.
notes . . i wrote this instead of working on my anatomy & physiology presentation for tomorrow. first time writing a threesome >_<
if you are seeing this as a repost please consider interacting with my original post !
the semester had begun like any other, crisp air and fresh syllabi and the low hum of campus life settling back into its rhythm after winter break. you were in your third year now, double-majoring in pre-law and business ethics, which meant your schedule was neatly split between professor nanami’s ethics lectures on tuesdays and thursdays and professor higuruma’s constitutional law seminars on mondays and wednesdays.
both men had reputations that preceded them—nanami for his unflinching, almost surgical lectures on moral philosophy and corporate responsibility; higuruma for the way he could turn a dry case discussion into something electric and alive. you liked them both, in that uncomplicated student way. they noticed you when others didn’t. they remembered your name. they listened.
you never once suspected the depth of what simmered beneath their professional surfaces.
nanami’s classroom was on the third floor of the east wing, tall windows overlooking the quad, rows of tiered seats that always smelled faintly of old wood and dry-erase markers. he stood at the front that first tuesday in his usual tan suit, jacket unbuttoned, sleeves rolled once at the wrists to reveal the precise lines of muscle and tendon along his forearms. blond hair parted with military neatness, wire-rimmed glasses sitting on the sharp bridge of his nose and catching the light whenever he turned his head. his voice rolled out low and measured, each word chosen like a scalpel.
“ethics is not about feeling good,” he said that morning, pacing slowly between the projector and the first row. “it is about doing what is right even when every incentive points elsewhere. even when the consequences are… personally inconvenient.”
his eyes swept the room and landed on you—third row, center, notebook already open, pen poised. you were wearing a soft cream sweater that slipped off one shoulder and a pleated skirt that rode just high enough when you crossed your legs, in perfect view for him thanks to the way the aisles were tiered. it wasn’t even anything provocative. just you, sitting there with your chin in your hand, listening like the material mattered more than anything else in your world. nanami’s jaw flexed once, imperceptibly. he forced his gaze onward, but the image stayed; your lips parted slightly, the delicate column of your throat when you swallowed, the way your thighs pressed together casually under the desk.
he told himself it was admiration for a diligent student. nothing more.
after class you lingered, as you often did to clarify notes you were too shy to ask about with the whole class watching, and waited until the last stragglers had filed out before approaching his desk. your voice was soft, a little hesitant. “professor nanami? i was wondering if you had any recommended secondary sources for the trolley problem variations. the ones that involve personal relationships. my notes felt, um, incomplete.”
he looked up from the stack of papers he was straightening, hazel eyes steady behind his glasses. up close you could smell his cologne—something clean and expensive, sandalwood and citrus and warm skin. “of course,” he said, and the low timbre of it made something flutter low in your belly, though you chalked it up to nerves. he reached for a thick volume on his shelf, handed it to you. his fingers brushed yours in the exchange, warm and deliberate. neither of you pulled away immediately.
“take your time with it,” he added, voice quieter now that the room was empty. “and if you find yourself stuck, my office hours are wednesdays at four. no appointment necessary.”
you smiled up at him, bright and grateful, completely unaware of how his gaze tracked the way your sweater shifted when you hugged the book to your chest. “thank you. you’re always so helpful.”
he hummed, a small sound in the back of his throat. “it’s my job to make sure bright students like you don’t waste their potential.”
that night, alone in his apartment, nanami poured himself two fingers of whiskey and let the memory replay on loop. the brush of your fingers. the soft swell of your breasts against that sweater. the innocent way you’d said his name. his cock was already half-hard by the time he sat on the edge of his bed, palming himself through his slacks but refusing to actually touch himself. that just wouldn’t be right. still, he imagined bending you over his desk after hours, skirt flipped up, your voice cracking around his name. he was so close, teeth gritting and free hand fisting into his duvet, your name on the tip of his tongue. but he ultimately pulled his hand away from himself before he could cross that line.
it was not the last time.
higuruma’s classroom was smaller, more intimate, tucked in the law annex with heavy oak tables arranged in a u-shape so everyone could see each other during debates. he arrived five minutes late that monday, tie slightly askew, dark hair falling into his eyes as he dropped his battered leather satchel onto the chair. sleeves already rolled to the elbows, exposing those long, veined forearms that always drew quiet stares from half the class. he looked perpetually exhausted and perpetually unbothered by it, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders and he simply refused to let it show.
“good morning,” he drawled, voice rough like he’d spent the weekend arguing with appellate judges in his sleep. “today we’re dissecting miranda v. arizona. again. because apparently half of you still think ‘you have the right to remain silent’ is a suggestion rather than a constitutional shield.”
his eyes found you immediately, seated at the end of the left arm of the u. you were in a soft lavender cardigan today, hair clipped back with a little barrette that matched your top in colour and made you look younger than your twenty-one years. you were already scribbling notes, tongue poking out the corner of your mouth in concentration. higuruma’s fingers tightened around his marker, distracted.
he cleared his throat and began the lecture.
you participated more than most, unexpectedly, even for yourself. when he posed a hypothetical about coerced confessions you raised your hand without hesitation, voice steady even though your cheeks just a tad more pigmented under his direct attention. “but professor, if the suspect is exhausted and isolated, doesn’t the power imbalance make any waiver inherently involuntary?”
“excellent question.” higuruma leaned back against the table, arms crossed, and gave you that small, crooked tilt of his head that made your stomach flip every single time. “care to expand for the rest of the class?”
you did, throat going dry as twenty pairs of eyes turned your way, but you held your ground, citing cases you’d read over the weekend. higuruma listened like every word mattered, head tilted, dark eyes never leaving your face. when you finished he nodded once, slow and approving. “well reasoned. you’re thinking like a defense attorney already.”
the class chuckled. you ducked your head, pleased and embarrassed at once.
after the seminar ended he didn’t dismiss you right away. instead he waved you over while he packed his bag. “you stayed late on the reading again,” he observed, voice low enough that only you could hear. “i can tell. your arguments are sharper every week.”
you shifted your weight, skirt swishing around your thighs. “i just… really like the material. and you explain it in a way that makes sense. not like the textbooks.”
he huffed a quiet laugh, the sound warm and rare. “flattery will get you extra credit, you know.” his hand brushed your elbow as he reached past you for a folder, a casual touch that lingered half a second too long. “if you ever want to discuss a case one-on-one, i’d be happy to. emails are always welcomed, but feel free to swing by during office hours. every wednesday after three.”
“really?” your eyes lit up. “that would be amazing. thank you, professor.”
he watched you leave, skirt swaying, and let out a slow breath through his nose. the second the door clicked shut he pressed the heel of his hand against the growing bulge in his slacks, cursing under his breath.
it’s that damn smile and eagerness of yours.
he made it to his office before he locked the door, sat in his chair, and pulled his cock out—thick and heavy and already leaking at the tip. he stroked himself with rough, impatient pulls, imagining your pretty mouth forming those careful arguments while he fed you his length instead, imagined the way your eyes would water when he hit the back of your throat and told you what a perfect little student you were. he came hard, stripes painting his fist and the edge of his desk, and still the ache didn’t ease as he reached for tissues.
weeks passed like that, tension coiling tighter with every interaction.
in nanami’s thursday lecture, he asked you to stay after to discuss your latest response paper. the room emptied. he circled around to your desk, perching on the edge so his thigh was inches from yours. “your analysis of utilitarianism versus deontology was… nuanced,” he said, voice pitched low, trailing off in a way that told you there was criticism coming. “but you hesitated on the personal cost section. why?”
you bit your lip absentmindedly, thinking. “because… in real life it’s not theoretical. if you’re the one who has to pull the lever, or the one who has to live with the guilt afterward… i don’t know. it feels different when it’s your hands, i guess.”
nanami’s gaze dropped to your hands—small, delicate, nails grown but well kept with a sheer glaze of colour he suspected of being your favourite since you added pops of it to your outfits more often than not. he imagined those hands wrapped around him, imagined them braced against his desk while he fucked you from behind—not now. now’s definitely not the time. he swallowed.
“right,” he murmured. “the theory collapses when the blood is on your own hands.” his fingers brushed a fallen eyelash from your cheek before he could overthink it, a gentleness that made your breath hitch. “you have a good heart. don’t lose that. but don’t let it blind you either.”
the touch lingered. you felt the warmth of his palm against your skin long after he pulled away. when you finally left his classroom your pulse was racing for reasons you couldn’t name.
higuruma caught you in the hallway two days later, arms full of books, struggling to balance your coffee and your bag. he took the stack from you without asking, long fingers wrapping easily around the spines. “you’re going to topple over like a baby giraffe,” he teased, that dry humor wrapping around you like smoke. “where are you headed?”
“library. i have that big torts outline due next week and my brain is mush.”
he walked with you the entire way, matching your shorter stride, making quiet conversation about a recent supreme court ruling that had everyone buzzing. every so often his arm brushed yours. every so often he glanced down at the way your cardigan had slipped again, exposing the delicate strap of your bra. he wanted to hook a finger under it and tuuuug. he wanted to mark that soft skin until you wore his fingerprints for days.
at the library doors he handed your books back, but not before his thumb stroked once along the inside of your wrist. “don’t work yourself too hard,” he said softly. “you look tired. if you need a break, come find me. i keep decent coffee in my office.”
you laughed, light and sweet. “you’re going to spoil me, professor.”
his smile was small and sharp. “maybe i want to.”
the dreams started at some point in the next week, like there had been a spell put on these men.
for nanami it was always the same: you on your knees in his office, sometimes under his desk, skirt pooled around your thighs, looking up at him with those wide, trusting eyes while he painted your tongue white. he woke hard and aching, jerked off in the shower with your name on his lips—righteousness be damned—then went to class and acted like the perfect, restrained mentor.
for higuruma the fantasies were rougher, hungrier. you bent over his courtroom-style desk, hands cuffed behind your back with his tie, cunt dripping down your thighs while he fucked you slow and deep and forced you to recite case law until you were sobbing and begging and coming apart around him. he came in his fist so many nights he lost count, then stared at the ceiling wondering if he should have just gotten married ten years ago. that way it may have been easier to resist this pull.
they never spoke about it to each other, but they noticed. nanami saw the way higuruma’s eyes tracked you across the quad. higuruma noticed how nanami’s lectures always seemed to circle back to questions only you could answer. there was a silent understanding between them—two men circling the same flame, neither willing to step back yet.
one rainy wednesday you showed up to nanami’s office hours soaked from the sudden downpour, sweater clinging to your curves, hair damp and curling at the ends. but you were on a mission. a mission to establish solid thesis for your midterm paper, too indecisive to settle on one thing. he took one look at you and ushered you inside, draping his own suit jacket over your shoulders without a word. it swallowed you, warm and heavy with his scent.
“you’ll catch a cold,” he murmured, guiding you to sit on the small worn brown leather couch against the wall. his hands lingered on your arms a moment longer than necessary, thumbs stroking through the wet fabric. “stay until it passes. i’ll make tea.”
you nodded, teeth chattering slightly, completely unaware of how his gaze darkened at the sight of your hardened nipples pressing against the damp sweater. he turned to the electric kettle to hide the way his dick twitched in his slacks.
you talked for nearly an hour. about the paper, about life, about how overwhelming third year felt sometimes. nanami listened like every word was scripture, sitting close enough that his knee pressed against yours. when you laughed at something he said, soft and bright, he reached out and wiped a stray raindrop from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.
“there,” he said quietly. “all better.”
your breath caught. the air felt thicker. you didn’t move away, just smiled into your tea.
by the time midterms loomed the tension was a living thing.
you’d started staying after both classes more often. nanami would walk you to the library some days, hand hovering at the small of your back, never quite touching but close enough that you could feel the heat. higuruma would “accidentally” run into you in the coffee line, buying your drink before you could protest, then sit with you at a corner table while you reviewed notes. his long leg would stretch under the table and brush yours, and neither of you would comment on how neither pulled away.
one friday afternoon you were in nanami’s classroom again, helping him organize handouts for the next lecture because you’d offered and he hadn’t refused. the room was empty, late sunlight slanting through the windows and turning everything golden. you were on your tiptoes reaching for a high shelf when he stepped behind you, one big hand settling on your waist to steady you, the other reaching easily over your head to grab the box.
his body was flush against your back for one long, breathless second. you could feel the hard plane of his chest, the warmth of him, the way his fingers flexed against your hip like he was fighting not to pull you closer. his breath ghosted over your ear.
“careful,” he murmured, voice rougher than usual. “wouldn’t want you to fall.”
you swallowed, heart hammering. “thank you, professor.”
he didn’t step back immediately. when he finally did, his hand slid slowly along your waist as if tracing what he could not yet touch, thumb brushing the strip of skin where your sweater had ridden up. the touch burned.
that same evening higuruma found you in the library, tucked into a corner carrel with your head in your hands, surrounded by open textbooks. you’d wondered if this back and forth of moments between them would ever melt into anything else. he dropped into the chair across from you without invitation, long legs stretching out until one oxford shoe nudged between your mary jane’s under the table.
“you look like you’re about to declare war on the casebook,” he observed, dry as ever.
you groaned, rubbing your temples, eyes squeezed shut. “it’s this negligence hypothetical. i keep going in circles.”
he leaned forward, elbows on the table, dark eyes intent on your face. “talk me through it.”
you did, voice growing more animated as he listened, occasionally nodding or asking a pointed question that made everything click. when you finally got it you beamed at him, bright and triumphant, and without thinking reached across the table to squeeze his forearm in gratitude.
the muscle jumped under your fingers. higuruma went very still.
“sorry,” you whispered, starting to pull back, cheeks flaming.
his hand caught yours before you could retreat, large palm engulfing yours, thumb stroking once over your knuckles. “don’t be,” he said softly. “i like when you touch me.”
the words hung between you, heavy and charged. you didn’t know what to say. your mouth opened, closed. heat pooled low in your belly, unfamiliar and frightening and wonderful all at once.
he released your hand slowly, but not before turning it over and pressing his lips to the inside of your wrist in the briefest, softest kiss, followed by a nip that left the faintest mark. “keep going,” he murmured against your skin. “you’re brilliant. don’t doubt it.”
you left the library that night with your pulse thundering in your ears and your panties embarrassingly damp, though you told yourself it was just the stress. just the relief of understanding the material. nothing more.
nanami noticed the mark on your wrist the next morning in his class—subtle, but there. his eyes narrowed fractionally. when you approached his desk post-lecture he caught your hand gently, turning it to inspect the spot.
“what’s this?” he asked, voice deceptively calm.
you shrugged, smiling. “oh, professor higuruma helped me last night. i must have pressed too hard on my pen or something.”
nanami’s thumb stroked over the spot once, thoughtful. “be careful who you let leave marks on you,” he said quietly. “some of us are far less restrained than we appear.”
your breath stuttered. you looked up at him, wide-eyed and innocent, and for a moment the mask slipped. just a flicker of raw hunger in those hazel eyes before he schooled it back into polite concern.
the air between the three of you was practically crackling by now, even if you remained sweetly oblivious to the storm gathering around you. you kept showing up to their classes in soft sweaters and short skirts, kept asking thoughtful questions, kept letting them walk you places and touch your arm and tuck your hair behind your ear and tell you how clever you were. you kept thanking them with that bright, trusting smile.
but the midterm papers were due in two weeks. and you were already starting to look a little overwhelmed, staying later and later and later in the library, shoulders tense, bottom lip caught between your teeth while you typed.
thursday afternoon found you in nanami’s ethics lecture again, seated in your usual spot, third row center. the topic was corporate whistleblowing—duty versus loyalty, personal risk versus public good. nanami paced the front of the room with his usual measured calm, sleeves rolled to the elbows, glasses catching the overhead lights every time he turned. his voice carried that low, steady authority that always made the room quiet down instinctively.
you were taking notes faster than usual, pen flying across the page, but your handwriting had started to slant and wobble toward the end of each line, letters pressed awkwardly tight whenever you neared the margins. every few minutes you paused to rub at the back of your neck, trying to ease the knot that had settled there days ago and refused to leave.
when the lecture ended, most students filed out quickly, eager for the weekend. you lingered, packing your things slowly, eyes fixed on the half-finished outline glowing on your laptop screen. nanami noticed—of course he noticed. he always noticed when it was you.
he approached your desk without hurry, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed but eyes sharp behind the lenses. “still wrestling with the outline?”
you looked up, startled, then offered a small, tired smile. “yeah. i keep rewriting the section on consequentialism. it feels like every angle i take collapses under its own weight.”
he hummed, a low sound of understanding. “it’s a difficult topic. the theory is clean on paper. reality is messier.” he glanced at your screen, then back at your face—taking in the faint shadows under your eyes, the way your shoulders stayed hunched even now that class was over. “you’ve been putting in long hours.”
“trying to,” you admitted, closing the laptop with a soft click. “the library’s fine during the day, but after nine it gets… echoey. and loud in a weird way. people are cramming right about now so they’re studying in groups, doors slamming. i can’t focus.”
nanami considered you for a long moment. then he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small silver key on a plain ring. he held it out, palm up.
“my office is quiet after hours,” he said simply. “no slamming doors, no groups. just books, a desk, and that couch against the wall if you need to spread your notes out. i’ll be there most evenings this week grading midterms anyway. you’re welcome to use the space. lock up when you leave if i step out.”
your eyes widened. the key gleamed under the classroom lights. “are you sure? i don’t want to impose—”
“you wouldn’t be.” his voice was firm, but softer at the edges. “i’d rather know you’re working somewhere comfortable than burning out in a noisy library. take it, i insist.”
you hesitated only a second before reaching out. your fingers brushed his palm as you took the key. warm skin, calloused fingertips from years of turning pages and gripping pens. the contact was brief, but it sent a small, involuntary shiver up your arm. nanami’s gaze flicked down to where your fingers had touched his, then back to your face.
“thank you, professor,” you said quietly, curling the key into your fist. “really. this means a lot.”
he gave a small nod, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough to soften his usually stern features. “good. come by whenever you need. door’s always open for you.”
you left the classroom feeling lighter than you had in days, the key a small, secret weight in your pocket.
that evening, around seven, you let yourself into nanami’s office.
it was unlocked, you presumed he was already there. the room was exactly as you remembered from the one time you’d come for office hours in the pouring rain—tall bookshelves packed floor-to-ceiling, a wide oak desk covered in neat stacks of papers and a single reading lamp, the deep brown leather couch against the far wall. the air smelled like him: clean linen, faint sandalwood, old books. warm. safe.
nanami was already there, as you suspected, jacket off, tie loosened, sleeves still rolled. he looked up from the stack of blue books he was grading when the door clicked open.
“you made it,” he said, voice low and pleased.
“yeah.” you smiled, a little shy, holding up the key like proof. “hope it’s okay i came tonight.”
“more than okay.” he gestured toward the couch. “make yourself at home. there’s an outlet behind the end table if you need to charge anything.”
you set your bag down, kicked off your shoes—socked feet sinking into the soft rug—and curled up on the couch with your laptop balanced on your thighs. for the first few minutes it was quiet. companionable. just the scratch of his red pen on papers, the soft click click click of your keys, the occasional rustle when he turned a page.
after about twenty minutes he stood, stretched, and walked over with two mugs. he set one on the coffee table in front of you. exactly how you liked it, plenty of sugar and cream. you hadn’t even asked, but he remembered from the one time you told him.
“thought you might need it,” he said, settling on the opposite end of the couch instead of returning to his desk. his long legs stretched out, one ankle crossing over the other. close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, but not so close that it felt invasive.
“you remembered,” you said softly, wrapping your hands around the mug. the heat seeped into your palms.
“i pay attention,” he replied, simple as that.
at some point you were frowning at your screen, muttering under your breath about a citation that refused to format correctly. nanami glanced over and reached across the space between you to gently tilt your laptop screen so he could see.
“here,” he murmured, fingers brushing yours as he took over the keyboard for a second. a few quick keystrokes and the reference snapped into place. “better?”
“so much better,” you exhaled in relief. “thank you.”
he didn’t move his hand right away. instead his thumb grazed the back of your knuckles once, light as a breath. “anytime, sweetheart.”
sweetheart.
the word landed like soft weight in the quiet room. your cheeks heated instantly, but you didn’t pull away. like something he’d been holding back for weeks and finally let slip.
you glanced at him sideways. “sweetheart?”
nanami’s mouth curved, small and knowing.
“does it bother you?”
you shook your head, too quickly. “no. i… i don’t mind it.”
“good.” he let his hand linger another second before withdrawing, returning to his grading. but the air felt different now—thicker, charged in a way that made your skin prickle.
you worked like that for another hour. every so often he’d ask a quiet question about your paper, offer a suggestion, or simply look over just to watch, hand brushing against your arm whenever he turned a page. each touch was careful, deliberate. each one left you a little more aware of how close he was sitting, how his thigh sometimes brushed yours when he shifted, how his cologne wrapped around you every time he leaned in.
at nine-thirty there was a knock—two firm raps—before the door opened without waiting for an answer.pp
higuruma stepped inside, a thick manila folder under one arm, tie already pulled loose around his neck. he paused when he saw you curled on the couch, laptop glowing.
“evening,” he said, voice rough and amused. his eyes flicked between the two of you, lingering on the way nanami’s arm rested along the back of the couch, fingers inches from your shoulder. “didn’t realize i was interrupting study time.”
nanami didn’t move. “you’re not. she’s using the office tonight. quieter than the library.”
higuruma’s gaze settled on you, dark and warm. “smart choice.” he crossed the room, dropped the folder on nanami’s desk, then dropped onto the couch on your other side. the leather dipped under his weight. his thigh pressed lightly against yours, long and solid.
you suddenly felt very small between them, but not in a bad way. more like sheltered. wanted.
“how’s the paper coming along?” higuruma asked, stretching one arm along the back of the couch behind you. his fingers brushed the nape of your neck casually, almost absentminded.
“better now that i’m not fighting fluorescent lights and nonstop yapping,” you admitted, laughing softly. “professor nanami’s been helping.”
“has he?” higuruma’s tone was dry, teasing. he glanced at nanami over your head. “generous of you, kento.”
nanami hummed, noncommittal. “she needed a quiet place. i had one.”
higuruma’s fingers drifted higher, tracing the shell of your ear with the lightest touch. you shivered. he noticed, of course, and his voice dropped lower. “you look tired, angel.”
angel. angel. angel.
the nickname hit different from nanami’s. softer, rougher at the edges. intimate in a way that made your breath catch. you ducked your chin, smiling despite the flush creeping up your neck.
they stayed like that—nanami on your right, grading papers with one hand while the other rested along the couch back, occasionally brushing your shoulder; higuruma on your left, long legs sprawled, one hand occasionally reaching over to adjust your laptop screen or point out a better way to phrase a sentence. neither of them crowded you, but neither gave you much space either. their presences seeped into you from both sides, steady and grounding.
every so often one of them would murmur something low; nanami calling you sweetheart when you nailed a difficult transition in your argument, higuruma murmuring angel when you yawned and rubbed your eyes. the nicknames weren’t constant, weren’t forced. they came naturally, like they’d both been thinking them for weeks and finally decided it was safe to say them out loud.
around eleven you started to flag. your eyes were heavy, fingers slower on the keys. nanami noticed first.
“enough for tonight,” he said quietly, closing his gradebook. “you’re half-asleep.”
“i can finish this section—”
“no.” higuruma’s voice was gentle but firm. he reached over and closed your laptop for you, careful not to pinch your fingers. “you’ve done good work. let it rest.”
you pouted just a little, but didn’t argue.
the small sound you made then—half whine, half sigh—hung in the quiet office like smoke. your lower lip pushed out, eyes glassy from staring at the screen too long, shoulders rounded forward in that defeated way that made both men go still.
nanami’s hand, still resting along the back of the couch, drifted down until his fingertips grazed the slope of your neckc brushing slow slow circles. barely there. “you’re exhausted, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice lower than it had been all night. “pouting won’t change that.”
higuruma leaned in from your other side, elbow braced on the cushion, face close enough that you could smell the faint cologne on his collar. “must be painful, hm?” he said, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth where the pout pulled it, a frown tugging at his own lips though it felt almost mocking. “all that tension in your pretty face.”
you swallowed. the room felt smaller suddenly, warmer, the lamp on nanami’s desk throwing long shadows across the leather and their sharp features. “i’m fine,” you tried, but it came out thin. “just… frustrated. the section won’t behave.”
nanami’s fingers slid higher, threading gently into the hair at your nape. he tugged once, not hard, but just enough to make your head tip back against the couch. your breath hitched, eyes lifting to look at him. “frustrated,” he repeated, tasting the word. his thumb pressed the soft skin behind your ear. “we can fix that.”
higuruma’s hand found your thigh at the same moment—high enough that his pinky brushed the hem of your skirt, but not crossing. yet. “let us help you unwind, angel,” he said against your temple. his lips didn’t quite touch skin, but the heat of his breath did. “you’ve been so good for us tonight. let us be good to you.”
your heart slammed against your ribs. you looked between them—nanami’s steady stare, higuruma’s darker one—and felt something hot and liquid slide down your spine.
“okay,” you whispered.
that was all it took.
nanami moved first. he cupped your jaw with one wide palm, turned your face to his, and kissed you like he’d been starving for it. slow at first, lips brushing, testing, then deeper when your mouth opened on a soft huuuum. his tongue slid against yours, deliberate, coaxing, tasting of black coffee and restraint finally snapping. you whimpered into it, hands coming up to clutch his shirtfront in an attempt to drag him closer.
higuruma didn’t wait long. while nanami kissed you senseless he hooked two fingers under your chin and turned you toward him the second nanami gave you air. his kiss was hungrier. teeth grazing your bottom lip, tongue pushing in like he couldn’t wait another second. in and out, in, out. you moaned against his mouth, dizzy, already drunk on the contrast: kento's controlled heat, hiromi's raw edge.
they passed you back and forth like that for long minutes, kissing you deep, then shallow, then deep again, until your lips were swollen and slick, breath coming in short pants as your head spun. kento's hand slid down your throat, broad palm covering the front of your neck while his fingertips pressed against your pulse point. pressing and releasing rhythmically. “look at you,” he murmured against your cheek. “already so responsive.”
higuruma’s fingers found the top button of your cardigan. he popped it open without asking, then the next, then the next, until the soft wool parted and cool air kissed your bra. pale lace. thin straps. your nipples were already peaked against the cups enticingly.
“fuck,” hiromi breathed, voice wrecked. “been wondering what you look like under all those sweaters.”
kento hummed agreement, reaching around from behind to slide the cardigan down your arms. it pooled at your elbows before he finally pulled it off and set it on the coffee table carefully. he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of your neck as higuruma palmed one breast through the lace, thumb circling the nipple until you arched for more.
“sensitive here,” nanami noted, low and pleased as he glanced down at the way your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. he nipped your earlobe, the two men working in sync as they stripped you of the rest of your clothes save for your panties. “good to know.”
they eased you back until you were reclining against the arm of the couch, legs stretched across both their laps. higuruma caught one of your ankles, lifted it, kissed the inside of your anklebone and nanami dragged slow fingertips up the inside of your other thigh. higher, higher, stopping just shy of where your panties were already clinging damply to your heat.
“spread for us, dear,” higuruma murmured against your skin. “let us see.”
your knees parted on instinct and kento’s hand slid upper your inner thigh, cupping you through cotton. he groaned—quiet, guttural—when he felt how wet the fabric was.
“she’s soaked,” he told his colleague, like you weren’t right there hearing every word. “dripping right through.”
the man addressed leaned down, nosed along your inner thigh. “can smell her from here.” he pressed a kiss high on your leg, then another, then scraped his teeth lightly over the skin. “sweet little thing’s been aching all night, hasn’t she? all for her dear professors?”
you nodded frantically, the concept so perverted you couldn't help but squimr. “yeah—yes—h-hah... please—”
nanami hooked a finger in the waistband of your panties and tugged them down your thighs. slowly. letting you feel every inch of exposure as he draaaaged. when they reached your ankles higuruma pulled them off completely, brought the damp cotton to his nose, inhaled deep, then passed them to nanami with a crooked grin.
nanami took them, pressed them to his own face for a second, eyes fluttering shut. “divine,” he muttered. then he folded them neatly and set them on the coffee table like evidence.
they didn’t give you time to be embarrassed.
higuruma caught your hips, dragged you down the couch until you were flat on your back. nanami knelt between your spread thighs, broad shoulders forcing them wider. the other man stayed higher, braced over you, one hand planted beside your head.
nanami looked up your body, eyes dark, pupils blown. “gonna take care of her first,” he said. then he leaned in and licked a slow, flat stripe up your center. shhhlick!
you cried out, hips jerking. he did it again—longer this time—tongue broad and hot, parting your folds, collecting every drop of you and slurping at your clit. higuruma watched, transfixed, then bent to kiss you again while nanami ate you like a man starved.
they traded places after a few minutes. higuruma settled between your legs, pushed your thighs up and out until you were folded nearly in half. his nose bumped your clit on the first pass and you mewled. he groaned against you, vibration making your toes curl.
“fuck—her clit’s so swollen,” he muttered, more to nanami than to you. “look how she twitches.” he flicked his tongue over it once, sharp, then sucked gently. your back bowed off the couch.
nanami stroked your hair back from your sweaty forehead. “breathe, sweetheart. let him have her. she’s been waiting so patiently.”
they took turns like that—nanami’s methodical, thorough licks; higuruma’s hungrier, nose grinding against you every time he buried his face deeper. then they were both there, tongues all over your cunt and working in tandem until you were trembling, pleas falling from your lips in broken little gasps.
“please! ’m—‘m shoo close—don’t stop—”
kento's fingers joined higuruma’s tongue. two thick digits sliding in slow, stretching you, curling against that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes. higuruma sucked your clit harder, teeth grazing. you came with a sob, gushing against higuruma’s mouth, thighs clamping around his head as he drank you down like it was the only thing that mattered.
they didn’t let you come down for more than ten seconds.
nanami pulled you up into his lap, your back to his chest, legs splayed over his thighs. higuruma knelt in front of you, hands on your knees, spreading you again to take a look of the leaky mess between your thighs. nanami’s cock was rock-hard against your lower back—huge, throbbing through his slacks—but he didn’t free it yet.
instead he reached around, spread your folds with two fingers so higuruma had an unobstructed view. “look how she flutters,” nanami murmured, landing a light slap right on your puffy clit. “still clenching around nothing. greedy little cunt.”
higuruma spat directly onto your clit. warm, thick, oozing through your folds. then rubbed it in with the pad of his thumb. you jolted. he did it again. “she liked that,” he noted, voice rough. “winking at me.”
nanami’s free hand came up to pinch your nipple, rolling it slowly. “of course she does. what's there to expect from a dirty girl like her?”
higuruma’s mouth and fingers bringing you right to the brink—then stopping. nanami’s hand between your legs, circling your perky pearl with devastating precision, then pulling away the second your hips started to grind. over and over until tears slipped down your cheeks and your pleas turned hoarse. "nnghhh! moremoremore—wanna—!"
“not yet,” nanami whispered against your ear, when you pleaded for release after the fifth time they denied you. “you can take more. you’re doing so well for us.”
higuruma reached up and wiped your tears with his thumb before smearing them against your trembling lips. “cry all you want, angel. makes you soo much cuter, hah”
when they finally let you come again it was brutal. hiromi's tongue flicked your clit with quick precision while kento fucked you with three fat and looong fingers, curling and prodding so so perfectly against that spongy spot inside you. you screamed, body locking up, squirting right across hiromi's chin. he groaned like he’d been given a gift, rewarding you with open mouthed kisses that had you twitching.
they kissed you through the aftershocks—messy, tasting yourself on their tongues.
the professors stripped after nanami slid you off his lap carefully, panting as you watched. shirts falling away to reveal more meat and chiseled muscled than you could've ever anticipated. belts. slacks. boxers last.
their cocks sprang free—heavy, thick, veined, heads flushed and already leaking down the underside of their shafts. kento's was long, so tall and proud with a gentle upward curve. hiromi's was girthier, the shaft ridged with prominent veins, foreskin pulled back to reveal a fat, glistening tip.
you stared, mouth watering.
“go ahead,” higuruma rasped, nearly cumming just at the sight of you looking so damn eager.
your hands wrapped around them, barely able to close your fingers around the thickness. you stroked slowly, marveling at the heat, the weight, the way they throbbed in your palms, how they jolted when you thumbed at their slits. but they didn’t let you jerk them for long.
instead, higuruma pulled you up on your knees as they shuffled around and closer, sandwiching you with him in front and nanami in the back. both cocks slid along your folds at once. the heads bumped your clit on every pass, slick sounds obscene in the quiet office. they held you between them tightly, not providing any room for you to even think about grinding for more.
"a-ahhh-" you sobbed, trying to chase the friction. “inside—please—need you innnn—”
“not yet,” hiromi growled, biting your shoulder, fingers digging into your waist to keep you still. “gonna make you come like this first. gonna soak both our cocks before we even stretch her.”
nanami’s hand wrapped around the front of your throat, just holding. “so—mmh—pretty when you beg, sweetheart. got this pussy crying for us too.”
and you kept begging. broken mores and pleases until your voice cracked, but hiromi only sank his hand into your hair and pressed your face into his bare chest to muffle your sounds. you felt them everywhere; one pair of lips against your shoulder, the other against your temple as you listened to their groans. whenever higuruma slid back, his length dragged along your clit and already had you trembling, only for nanami to follow through a slide forward, throbbing tip nudging under the hood.
they finally let you finish when they felt like they were about to themselves, letting you grin desperately between them until the dual pressure on your clit sent you over. you gushed again, toes curling and coating both shafts, making everything slicker, messier, two sets of thick arms wrapping around you to keep you from collapsing.
after a beat, kento reached for his discarded tie. he looped it around your wrists, tied them loosely behind your back as he kissed your shoulder—not tight enough to hurt, just enough to keep your hands out of the way.
they manhandled you onto your hands and knees. well, just your knees since your arms were out of commission for now, tipping forward until your shoulders and chest hit the couch and your ass was pushed nice and high. hiromi knelt in front, cock bobbing near your face as he used his grip on your hair to drag you up, kento somewhere behind you spreading the backs of your thighs.
you were fed higuruma’s cock first—slooow, careful, letting you adjust to the girth. despite the care he put into it, you gagged when he hit the back of your throat, eyes stinging and maw fluttering clumsily around his base, but he praised you the whole time. “so good, angel. taking me so deep—fuck.” his hand in your hair slid down to your throat, brushing over where he could feel himself bulging through.
nanami spat on your cunt, letting it drip drip drip down between your cheeks and mix in with the fountain of slick, then rubbed the head of his cock through the mess. “gonna open her up now,” he said lowly, “should be able to take us.”
he pushed in so slowly, inch by thick inch, until you were stretched around him, whimpering around the dick in your mouth. the stretch burned, ached, felt impossibly full already and he wasn’t even all the way in.
“fuck—she’s tight,” nanami groaned, kneading your ass in handfuls. “clenching like she never wants me to leave.”
they found a rhythm; nanami fucking you deep and steady from behind, higuruma fucking your throat with careful thrusts. every time nanami bottomed out his hips slapped your ass; every time higuruma pushed deep your nose pressed to his pelvis. a hand resting on the small of your back, pressing down to deepen the arch until you were practically folded in half, changing the angle just enough to make sure kento pounded against your g-spot with every thrust.
you were crying steadily now—overwhelmed, overstimulated, and so so full it hurt in the best way. jaw slack, letting higuruma fuck your face freely. you could swear you felt every minimal movement of nanami inside you too, could feel how he slid in—tip sliding against that sensitive spot and then further to smoooch your cervix, balls slapping against your clit steadily. you felt yourself going numb with pleasure, clenching and cummin’ around kento’s cock for what felt like the fifth time, their voices ringing in your ears.
“taking us so so well, dollface.”
“look how she keeps swallowing me right back in.”
“her cunt’s drooling around you, ken.”
“such a greedy, greedy girl, taking not one but two professors. bet if we asked you’d let professor kusakabe join too, huh?”
when nanami came it was sudden. "gonna f-fill you uuuup, sweet girl," he groaned as he dragged your ass right against him, holding you there so you couldn't squirm away. "mhm, that's it—fuuuck—gonna look so cute with a full tummy—a-ah, cummin'—" then he spilled deeeep, grinding against your cervix, flooding you with his seed without care, moanin' your name like a prayer, hips stuttering.
he pulled out slowly and spread your ass as far as he could in his calloused palms, watching with hooded eyes as his cum leaked out of you in spurts. thick and white, oozing down your thighs like it did in his dreams.
higuruma flipped you onto your back after giving you a moment to recover, pushed your knees to your chest, and slid into the mess nanami left behind. “feels so fucking good,” he growled, pounding hard now, rougher than before. “gonna add to it—gonna breed this pretty cunt full till you forget what it’s like to be empty.”
you came again just from the stretch of him sinking in, shaking and clenching around him as he buried himself deep, deep, deeeep with a wet squelch, kento’s cum seeping out around him. and then he stayed there, huffing out low breaths as he stared down at your folded form.
“look at that,” he hummed in fascination, eyes drifting down to your stomach. he pushed in just a fraction deeper, making you gasp as his hand came down to rub over your tummy, a prominent bulge the shape of his member poking through.
once he started fucking into you, rough sounds tumbling from his lips and nails digging into the backs of your knees, it was hard to do anything but whine and whimper, toes curling in the air as he frothed up your poor, poor pussy. sat by your head, kento reached down to brush heart from your sweat slicked forehead. a gesture so tender and almost sweet that practically broke you when he reached right past your torso to deliver a harsh smack to your cunt.
you cried out a little too loudly when you came, someone’s broad hand clamping over your swollen lips to muffle you. who it was, you had no clue, eyes squeezed shut from the overwhelming of hiromi fucking you through it. he followed quickly, already sensitive from how your mouth had swallowed him up, spilling deep with a broken moan. still, he kept those hips pistoning, making sure it all stayed inside.
by the end you were limp, covered in sweat and cum and spit, wrists still loosely bound, thighs trembling. they untied you gently, kissed every mark they’d left—neck, shoulders, inner thighs—murmured soft praise against your skin.
“so perfect for us.”
“took it all like a champ.”
“our beautiful girl~”
the two of them cleaned you with soft cloths from nanami’s private bathroom, wrapped you in nanami’s suit jacket, let you curl between them on the wide couch while your breathing evened out. muttering sweet words and peppering your skin with kisses, you didn’t think twice about what just happened and what it would mean for your relationship with your professors.
outside the window the campus was dark and silent.
inside, the three of you stayed tangled together, hearts slowing in sync, the scent of sex and satisfaction thick in the air.
making your fiance Satoru jealous on purpose
18+ bdsm, smut, daddy kink, not proofread
You love to make your fiance Satoru Gojo angry and jealous, you love the little scowls he gives - and the punishment when you get home, the subtle threats against your ear and that you've just been a 'slutty little brat, you just don't listen, hmm?'
He knew you were trying to make him jealous tonight, but you couldn't help yourself, not when you knew he's bend you right down over his bed, knew he'd sigh all frustrated as he bound your wrists together and tied that knot. Clamps on your nipples, making them ache, they're already sensitive since you're ovulating but he loves to watch them bruise.
The sound of the metal clicking as he takes his belt off, and the little whoosh of air when he tugs it out of his dress pants has you aching when he chuckles just a bit, pressing those clamps even tighter.
"You tell me sweetheart," he murmurs, slipping his fingertips to tug your slutty little dress over the curve of your ass, gliding your panties right down your thighs as they press together, letting them land on your ankles. "How many hits do you think? I'll let you choose."
"Um..." you bite down on your lip, sucking in a breath, Satoru presses your head further into the mattress, tugging your hips up. "F-five?"
"Five what?"
"Five, sir? Please."
Smack.
“Arch that ass back more," Satoru's words have you doing just that, your ass arched up with your wrists bound behind your back, pretty pink ribbons - just how Satoru liked you. "You can arch it higher, can't you sweetheart?"
You whine out, doing just that - slick dripping wet down your puffy lips, making them glisten as your ass arches up like some perfect heart over the edge of his bed. “Mnh, there?"
"Just like that," Satoru takes his belt - the one you asked him to whip you with earlier that night, toying with the buckle as you made sure to drive him insane. His cock is throbbing at the sight of the raised welp on your left cheek, sighing at the sight. "
Your fingers go numb in the tight hold, preparing for the next smack right on the other cheek, the sound of leather on skin echoing in your room. You're soaking wet now, crying out and arching more.
"What do we say when we're getting these, hmm?" He leans over you now, tilting your chin up and moaning at the sight of your pretty, tear streaked cheeks. "Look at your pretty little face like this, fuck... answer me, be a good girl for once."
"Thank you, Sir," you whisper, he kisses you and teases you with his fingertips, just to tug back and smack your ass again, just barely dipping a fingertip in your slick walls just teasing, before smacking your cunt. "Ah! Satoru..."
"You didn't say it right, tsk," he smacks your cunt again, his other hand tugging at your bound wrists, pulling your body into a meaner arch.
You know what he wants to be called but you love his punishment a little too much. “Was sir not right?”
Satoru smirks at your innocent, cute little voice. “No, baby, it wasn’t right, and you know that, hmm?"
"Me? N-no," he studies you and just how fucking pretty those welps look blooming on your skin, tugging his pants down to spit on his cock and stroke himself.
"You don't want my cock tonight, hmm?" He smacks you with the belt again, you're throbbing around nothing, cunt just spasming and so fucking empty.
“How should you address me, baby?” You bite your lip rather than answer, earning a smack on your lower cheek, right above your thigh. "You didn't answer me, do I need to remind you?"
"Mmm, n-no," you're damn near giggling into the pillow even with the pain pricking your skin, the ache in your core, Satoru leans back over you and kneels, pulling your cunt wide open and spitting in your hole. You let out a ragged little gasp, trembling when he tightens those clamps down. "D-daddy..."
"Aw, I didn't hear you," Satoru smacks you again across the puffy lips of your cunt with that leather - eliciting a slutty little moan from your throat. He knows you love to make him angry, and be the little brat you are - but he loves to see you littered with hand prints and bruises. "Say it again, hmm?"
"Daddy, mnh, I think I deserve... five more?"
"Can you take five?" You nod, looking back over your shoulder, wrists shifting in that tight hold with pretty tears in your eyes, making him even harder. "If you don't make noise I'll make you cum. Can you?"
"Mhm, I can," he moans and kisses you all messy, the salt of your tears dripping onto your lips. "Please, daddy, more?"
You're so fucking adorable like this, with your trembling lips and those lashes spiking with your tears, he smacks you harder, watching you hold in your cry, and your cunt making a mess. "Count for me."
"Four more," he smacks you again right over your cunt with that belt, but you suck in a breath. "Three." smack. You bite down on your lip, taking another. "Two."
Satoru smacks you one more time, then his final lash across the back of your thighs, looking at those raised up lines as you're trembling, he puts it down then and comes over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist when you nearly collapse. "I'm so fucking proud of you, such a good girl."
"Imma good girl?" You ask weakly, he moans, knowing how much you love to drive him crazy.
"Are you gonna say sorry for flirting with Suguru, you brat?" you giggle and bite your lower lip. "You know you're making him jerk it tonight, huh? Should I send a picture just like this?"
"N-no!?"
He chuckles then, sinking down to his knees, fingertips slipping across all those marks and bruises. "I'd never show anyone this pretty ass anyway," he whispers, kissing where those raised up marks are, breath ghosting your cunt. "Hah you're making such a fucking mess, you know how expensive this rug is, baby?"
"S-sorry daddy," you whine out weakly, not sorry at all.
"I'll clean you all up, you did so good f'me," Satoru's tongue laps your slick right up, slurping it with a filthy noise and gulping it right down his throat, hands pressing right on those bruises where he'd laid his belt, making you shiver with the pain and pleasure. "Fuck, you love making me mad, don't you?"
"No daddy," he chuckles now, slurping up your slit, tongue diving in your hole over and over, curving right up inside, leaning up and turning your chin, your tits still aching from the clamps, spitting your juices right in your mouth.
"Don't lie to me, sweetheart, not if you wanna cum," you take a shaky breath, feeling his tip gliding through your syrupy mess, squishing in the room and mixing with your weak little whines. "Do you like to make me mad, hmm?"
"Yes," you kiss him and arch, he leans back and shoves his cock fully inside, bottoming right out against your puffy cervix, his hips slapping your bruised ass and making you hiss in pain. "Nghh! Toru..."
"You like me beating your pretty ass, hmm? Making me lose it?" He uses your wrists to tug and bend, slamming his cock inside you faster, tip just draggin' on that spot in your quivering walls. Every fuck into your needy cunt is louder as you start just gushing, making him slide even easier inside. "F-fuck... grippin' me like that, huh baby? Feel s'tight... God..."
You're already trying to milk him, he pushes in and rolls his hips, pelvis snapping sharply as his cock stretches you out. "Toru please... ah!" Smack, that burns your skin. "Daddy please."
"I'll give you anything baby," he shoves in and pins you there, letting you cum and squirt all down his cock, his heavy balls smacking your clit, sucking in a breath when you grip him. "That's it sweetheart, milk me just like that... gonna breed this pretty cunt, huh?"
"Please, ah!" Satoru fucks you right through it, your wrists numb, arms stretched, nipples aching. Your ass is stinging with every smack as he ruins you - and when he's fucking his cum back inside you, he can't help but glare. "What, daddy?"
"You love to stress me the fuck out," you're giggling when he eases your wrists and your ties, kissing every inch of you. "Fucking brat."
ཐི♡ཋྀ
this is based on my Fractured Gojo - ty to my @uhnosav and @strychnynegirl for helping me with the idea and layout hehe <333
18+ imagine gojo fucking you with the dildo you bought to prepare yourself for his big dick
The first time you stumbled upon 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 fresh from the shower—unfiltered and completely bare—your breath hitched. Before you could even meet his gaze, your eyes were drawn downward, your eyes nearly bulging at the sight of the sheer, obscene length hanging between his legs. By then, you were convinced that he wasn't going to fit – at least, not easily. Your thesis was later proven to be correct when you had your first time with the ivory-haired male; tears immediately welled up in your eyes as you cried out in sheer pain. Of course, your boyfriend stopped his actions, making it his top priority to ensure your comfort and wellbeing. Since then, he didn't make any more advances – offering only his mouth and fingers for your pleasure, despite your many pleas telling him that you're ready.
It had been nearly a month now, and you had finally taken matters into your own hands. After all, desperate times called for desperate measures. While Satoru was off on a mission, you stared intently at the laptop screen, scrolling through the myriad of sex toys that are put on sale. What better way is there to stop your lovely boyfriend from holding himself back any longer than to buy a dildo to prepare yourself for him? Undeniably the mere image of his twitching cock being held down by the confines of his boxers and trousers made your mouth water. Eventually, after a couple minutes, you click on checkout.
It’s the next day, and your boyfriend is still away for a mission, and you find yourself staring at the box sitting in front of your door in surprise — honestly, you had expected it to come in a week. But then again, you’re back to business. Rushing back inside your abode, you plop the box down onto the kitchen table, tearing the cardboard with a scissor in nimble movements. Lo and behold, the extra large rainbow dildo rests upon the palms of your hands.
Blushing, you stare down at the lewd toy and you gulp.
You plop yourself back onto the comfort of your soft mattress; the freshly washed dildo and the small bottle of lube splayed out across the bed. at this point, you were already bare – your bra being the only garment left on your body. Leaning back on the mattress, your back makes contact with the soft and gentle plush of your pillow. You stretch your legs wide open and lick a thin stripe of saliva against your finger, rubbing it against your folds. A hitched breath escapes from your lips as you align the tip of the dildo with your aching hole. God, you desperately wish it's your boyfriend instead.
All you can think about is Satoru; his body above yours, his eyes staring lovingly into yours as his soft lips graze against your own. You shut your eyes closed, softly biting onto your lip as you press the large tip against your entrance —
I LIKE HOW I LOOK ON YOU.
asking toji what he thinks about babies takes a drastic turn.
featuring. . toji fushiguro.
warnings. . almost no plot ‘n all porn. self-indulgent! breeding kink. massive size difference/kink. pussy-eating. overstimulation. lots of baby/pregnancy talk. creampies. reader & toji are newly married. dry-humping. rough $ex. womb fucking. pussydrunk!toji. dumbification. mommy kink (toji loves calling reader ma/mama/etc) like three uses of daddy but not in that way. . thick!reader. reader wears glasses. lots of spit play. choking kink. pronebone/headlocks —> mating press.
sol’s notes. . this is the worst thing i’ve ever written sorry y’all. this is self-indulgent (reader’s implied to be brownskin) but it’s also everyone-friendly so everyone can read! & this took me like 3 days. . . @angelkiyo hi bae ><
“what’d you think about babies?”
it was a pointless conversation, really. there was no weight behind it, no foundation to rest on—yet it slid off your tongue anyway, leaving your ample lips in one soft breath.
well. . there was a hidden agenda in it. but you didn’t expect it to go far enough.
you didn’t even glance at him when you said it, eyes stuck on the book propped in your hands, oversized lenses perched on your nose. your body curled lazy against your husband on your shared marital bed, the thin cheetah-print nightdress clinging to every curve like it was painted on.
you didn’t expect toji to react. not with how wrapped up he seemed in the stupid tv-show flickering across the giant screen in front of you both. but then—he reached for the remote, lowering the volume. his stormy eyes cut into you, dragging slow over your frame before his head tilted, sharp and deliberate, to catch you in his sight.
"what do i think 'bout babies?" he repeated, almost as if you spoke another language to him.
it was only then that you tore your eyes off your book, closing it just enough for the pages to mush together. “. . yeah, what’chu think about them?”
toji shifted on the bed, the cheetah-print pants you’d teased him into wearing dragging against the black sheets. his muscles glistening in the warm tv light, hand rising slowly up his naked torso until it scratched lazily at the back of his neck, like he was buying himself time to think.
“babies ain't all bad. always dirty though,” he sighed, lips tugging into something crooked, “but i don’t not like ‘em.”
and if toji was ever an honest man, he’d admit that what just left his mouth was more lie than truth.
the thing was—he did like babies. always had. never thought he’d be the type, but something about those chubby little fists curling, the way they mumbled to themselves or passed out anywhere, it got to him.
and lately? he couldn’t even look at you without thinking about it.
he swear he doesn't know what's gotten into him, because all he thinks about is how good you’d look swollen with his kid. how it’d feel to finally fuck you raw without pulling out, to fill you up so deep and watch it take. he thought about it more often than he’d ever say out loud—most of the time, if not all. his pretty little wife, knocked up and glowing, waddling around the house in that same stupid nightdress that always drives him insane.
babies weren’t the menace. it was the thought of putting one in you that turned him into one.
you smiled at his words, finally closing the book and setting it down on the nightstand with a lazy stretch of your arm. when you turned back, the tv was nothing but noise in the background—at least to him. toji barely heard it anymore, not when this topic hung between you, not when your eyes lingered on him the way they did now.
“i like babies. like. . a lot,” you said, voice soft, almost playful, bambi-eyes wide as they searched his face. you hadn’t even noticed how close you’d shifted, your warm thighs pressing into the thick muscle of his own, the contact sending something sharp and electric through his veins.
“yeah?” the corner of his scarred mouth tugged up, slow and knowing, his body leaning in as if gravity demanded it. “what’chu like about ‘em?”
you twisted a little in your spot, angling toward him, and the nightdress dipped just enough to frame the heavy swell of your tits. they squished together perfectly, and toji’s eyes couldn’t help but wander—dragging from your pretty lashes behind the frames of your glasses, down the line of your lips, to your throat, your chest, your waist. . and your hips. every curve calling to him like it was built just for his hands. (they are)
you tilted your head, lips curling as if you were buying time, and it killed him that he had to wait for your answer.
“they’re little and stupid,” you finally giggled, the sound soft, sinful in how it wrapped around him. your lashes fluttered as you leaned in a touch more, a cheeky smile tugging at your mouth. “can’t think for shit—and they’re sooo cute with their lil’ pouts.”
toji’s throat worked as he swallowed, his tongue swiping slow across his bottom lip, eyes refusing to leave you. the air between you was heavy now, charged, and the way you said cute almost sounded like you weren’t talking about babies at all.
but what he couldn’t catch—though you swore it was obvious—was the raw ache simmering in your eyes. the restless want in your every little movement.
heat had been coiling low in your tummy all night, licking up into that already-sappy spot between your thighs. the stupid cheetah-print nightdress didn’t help, clinging to you like a second skin, outlining everything you wished was in his hands.
god—you wanted them there.
wanted his rough palms dragging up your thighs, groping at your hips, slipping under the thin strap to cup your tits. wanted his voice in your ear, filthy and deep, talking about what he’d do to you while bending you into positions you never thought of. you wanted him to fuck you into something unrecognizable, to breed you until you were swollen and round with his kid.
that was the real reason for this baby talk. a trap laid out in soft words, hoping he’d take the bait—snap, flip you onto your back, and ruin you until his cum was leaking down your thighs and you couldn’t walk right for days. but for all his strength, for all his sharpness, toji fushiguro could be very fucking oblivious sometimes.
he laughed at your words, low and careless, though his eyes still wandered down your plush body like he couldn’t help himself. you laughed with him, masking the hunger burning hotter in your chest, hiding the way your pulse pounded in your throat. but it was getting harder to contain—it was spilling through your touches, your smiles, the way your thighs shifted restlessly against his.
and finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.
“anyway—” sliding your glasses off and throwing them over to the nightstand, your tongue swept over your bottom lip, slow and deliberate, your breath hitching just enough to betray you. “do y’know why i brought this baby talk up?”
toji shook his head. “indulge me, ma.”
fuck, his voice. low, rough, curling through your body until it sat heavy in your stomach. were you ovulating? it felt like it—your pulse skipped, heat pooling low, thighs shifting with restless want. your breath came out shaky, a little uneven, as you weighed your next move.
do you keep circling this conversation? or do you drag him down on top of you and end it?
and then it struck you.
you pushed yourself up slowly, deliberately, closing the distance until your body pressed flush against his.
“i only brought this up—” you whispered, eyes locked to his. your abundant lashes lowered, gaze turning molten as you drank in the storm of grey staring back at you. your meaty thigh lifted over his hips, deliberate and unhurried, until you were straddling him, settling your weight onto his lap.
the shift stole his breath. your nightdress clung tighter than ever, thin fabric riding up your thighs as your hips met his. his hands twitched at his sides, torn between restraint and need, while his jaw tightened, lips parting with a soundless exhale.
your panties betrayed you instantly.
the lace was already damp, your slick heat pressing right against the ridge of his pants. you rolled your hips down just enough to feel him—thick, hardening beneath the satin fabric—and the friction sparked through you, leaving your breath trembling. his eyes dropped, flicking from your parted lips to your heavy tits right at his face, then lower, as though he couldn’t decide where to gorge himself first.
“is ‘cause. .” your voice faltered into a hush, the weight of your want tipping through every syllable.
you finally sat down fully on him, grinding faintly, your wetness bleeding through lace, threatening to mark his pants. your lips curved into something sinful, your gaze never breaking his.
“'s cause i wan’ a baby with you, toji.”
oh.
toji’s mind snapped blank. his eyes stayed locked on yours, heavy-lidded and dark, while his big hands clamped down on your waist like he couldn’t stop himself. you seriously wanted a baby with him?
the thought ricocheted through him, burning every rational scrap left in his brain. four months married. four months of breaking the bed, of you moaning his name into the sheets, of him pulling out when all he wanted was to stay buried in you. was that even long enough to start a family?
fuck it. he didn’t care.
he never cared about numbers or timing or what made sense—he cared about you. the way you looked sitting on him now, plush ass pressed against his hips, your pussy clenching around nothing while you trembled for him.
“f-fuck, ma. . you’re serious?” his voice broke, breathless, already drunk on your weight and heat. “you really want a baby w’me?”
the fact that he was still asking while you ground against him—slow, soft rolls of your hips that pressed your soaked panties right against his hard dick—bordered on ridiculous. he could feel you, could feel how wet you were, and yet he needed your words like proof.
“really, really, really wan’ a baby with you,” you breathed, voice shaking with want as you leaned in closer. “think you’ll make a good daddy.”
fuck. fuck. the way you said it—low, sultry, soaked in need—snapped him clean in half. his whole body shuddered under you, control unraveling in an instant.
“y’don’ know what you’re gettin’ yourself into, mama,” he growled, but the warning was already an empty threat. his lips crashed onto yours before the sentence even finished, hard and hungry, tongue sliding past your lips to taste every whimper spilling from your mouth.
the kiss was molten-hot, sloppy, all tongue and teeth and need.
you sighed into it, hands finding his nape, grinding down harder now, dragging your swollen clit against the thickness straining beneath his pants. toji groaned into your mouth, the sound deep and guttural, his hands roaming lower until they cupped the heavy swell of your ass, squeezing hard enough to bruise.
“taste so good,” he muttered against your lips before kissing you again, sucking your tongue into his mouth like he was starving.
one hand slid up your back, huge palm pressing between your shoulder blades to force your chest against his. your tits spilled over his chest, nipples pebbling through the thin fabric of your nightdress, and he rolled his hips up into yours.
the friction had you gasping, head tipping back, and he chased your throat immediately—biting, sucking, marking you until your fawn skin was blooming with heat under his mouth. “you sayin’ that shit and sittin’ on me like this—shit, mama, you’re g'na make me lose it,” he groaned, dragging his teeth across the curve of your neck.
your hips rocked again, deliberately this time, grinding slow and deep against the hard length under you. his dick twitched, and his moan vibrated against your skin. “want it,” you whispered into his hair, your nails clawing at his shoulders.
“wan' you t'make me a mommy, toji. want your baby.”
he cursed again, voice ragged. “mm. . you keep talkin’ like that, and i’m not stoppin’ till you are fuckin’ pregnant.”
your mouth shapes a sloppy 'o' as he grabs the hem of your nightdress, shoving it up rough, his knuckles grazing your thighs as he yanked it higher. when his hand found the damp lace between your legs, his hiss filled the air—sharp, low, like it cut through his teeth.
“already fuckin’ soaked. fuckin’ knew it.”
his hand mesed against your panties, trailing dark until his thumb finds and presses against your clit. you jerk in his lap, clutching onto him tighter, a broken moan falling past your lips. he smirked against your throat, fingers pressing harder into you through the thin fabric.
“gon' make you a mama tonight,” he murmured, filthy and certain.
“wanna fuck you till you can’t think ‘bout nothin’ but my kid sittin’ righttt here.” his free hand flattened against your lower stomach, holding you down against his dick like he was already claiming the space.
you couldn’t hold back the messy moan as you drag his lips back onto yours, tongues sliding, lips slick and wet like you were trying to drink each other in. toji works his way past your panties, thick fingers playing with your folds and spreading your mess, dragging your slick everywhere like he’s already marking you up.
his other hand leaves your stomach, big and greedy, gliding up your body until he’s rolling your nipples through the thin fabric of your nightdress, before sliding higher and latching tight around your throat.
he squeezes once, firm and deliberate, and your pussy clenches on nothing, body jolting like you’re about to cum from the pressure alone. your head spins, vision a little fuzzy, all of it boiling down to one truth: you want nothing but your husband. you want his seed.
you want his baby.
his fingers move like he’s studying you, sliding up your folds before finding your clit once again, pressing in with slow, cruel circles that make your thighs twitch around his waist.
you break the kiss with a gasp, panting heavy into his mouth, eyes glazed and fixed on his like he’s the only man left on earth. “fu–fuck. .” your voice shivers, a string of spit hanging between your lips and his.
he smirks, lazy and dangerous. “sound so needy, mama. pussy's already throbbin’ and 'm not even inside you yet.” his thumb presses harder on your clit, rubbing rougher and messier, and your hips buck down against his lap, grinding your soaked panties right over his hard dick.
he leans in, breath hot against your ear. “gon’ let me put a baby in you? hm? take it all nice and deep like my pretty wife should?”
your body answers before your mouth can.
you rock down harder, dragging your pussy along his length, soaking his pants, shamelessly moaning into his neck.
toji chuckles, low and filthy, as his fingers slip under your panties for real this time. thick, calloused fingers part your folds and sink inside you, two at once, stretching you so easy from how wet you already are. “fuuckk, you’re gushin’—look at that, mama. greedy lil' pussy tryna swallow my fingers.”
you whine, clawing at his shoulders, your walls clenching tight around him. "h-haah, toji, i—"
he curls his fingers deep and presses his palm to your clit, working you open while his other hand keeps your throat snug in his grip.
his eyes stay locked on yours, stormy and wild, as if the sight of you coming undone might be the only thing he ever needs again.
he sticks his tongue out while smiling feral, that wet pink thing sliding against yours, trapping it in another kiss that feels like drowning. spit dribbles down both your chins, dripping onto your tits where the thin cheetah-print clings, making the fabric darker. it’s all tongue now—sloppy, hot, endless—as he sucks on yours like he’s feeding off every sigh you let slip.
his fingers are merciless, two thick digits curling in a steady come-hither, scissoring your gummy walls until they spasm around him. your whole body shudders, thighs trembling hard against his waist, and you swear you feel slick soaking through the front of his sweats.
“m-mmpf, y-you’re g-g’na make me cum like th-this.” you whine into his mouth, messy words barely forming through the kiss, hips chasing his hand like your body already belongs to him.
yet toji doesn’t slow down.
he doesn’t even flinch. your pleasure is his, your cries are his, and he takes them like payment, like proof that you’re breaking down just for him. his fingers work faster, harder, curling deep inside you while his broad palm grinds down ruthlessly on your swollen clit. you let out a tiny, desperate cry, half-breath, half-moan, that has his thick dick twitching beneath you.
“thaaat's it,” he growls into your lips, dragging his tongue down to your throat.
he tilts your head back with the same hand that’s choking you, exposing your neck as his tongue licks and latches onto skin, biting and sucking with heat that borders on ravening.
“can feel you’re close, ma. she's clenchin’ all over my fingers, huh?” his voice is wrecked, ragged, dripping with want.
“you wanna cum already?” he teases against your throat, tongue lapping over the fresh mark. his fingers piston into you faster, curling cruelly, pushing you toward that edge whether you want it or not.
"y-yesss, wanna cu-cum so bad—f-fuuck, 'm—!" your nails rake down his broad shoulders, mouth hanging open on broken gasps, your hips rolling frantically against the heel of his hand. you can’t hold it back—your body jerks, thighs shaking around him as your pussy clenches tight, creaming all over his fingers.
toji doesn’t stop. not when you cry out his name.
not when you almost go limp against his chest. his pace only drags your orgasm out, milking every ounce until you’re sobbing into his neck, voice cracking as you beg for reprieve.
he pulls his fingers out slow, glistening with your slick, and shoves them into your mouth. “taste it,” he mutters, eyes heavy-lidded, dick straining against his sweats.
“taste how bad you want my baby.”
your eyes roll back as you suck on his fingers, still tasting your own spend, tongue swirling around them like you’re starved. you swear it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted in all your years, moaning shamelessly as he pushes them deeper down your throat, gagging you just enough to make your sappy pussy throb.
toji’s grin grows downright feral, flashing nearly all thirty-two teeth, his stormy eyes glinting with hunger. he pulls his fingers out slow, savoring the wet drag of your lips, watching the way you chase after him like a woman possessed.
“tell me how it tastes, mama.” he rasps, voice low and dangerous.
your half-lidded eyes lock onto his, dripping heat and want. “tastes so fuckin’ good.” you pant, shameless, tongue still pressed to the roof of your mouth like you can’t let his taste go.
toji exhales a rough, broken sigh, hands sliding to grab greedy at the fat curve of your ass, squeezing like he owns it. his cock twitches beneath you, straining through the satin of his sweats, and you can feel every inch—thick, hard, begging to split you open. your slick-soaked panties do nothing to mute the heat between you, your cunt throbbing as you shift against him.
he feels it too—the damp heat, the needy tremble in your thighs. his grip tightens, smirk growing sharper. “hope you ain’t think this was it, ma,” he drawls, voice dripping filth, “we're jus' gettin’ started.”
before you can pout again, his big hands are on you—flipping you onto your back with no effort, pressing you down into the satin pillows.
your nightdress hikes up, tits spilling free, peeking heavy and flushed through thin fabric. your thighs spread instinctively, wet heat glistening at the center, as if your body’s already begging him in ways your lips can’t. he hooks those same two fingers in your panties, pulling them down so they pool at your ankles and then off completely.
toji cages you in, thick arms braced on either side of your head, his massive frame blotting out everything but him. his hips grind down slow against yours, dick grinding right against your soaked core, and you can’t help the broken moan that rips from your throat.
your cheeks burn hot under the weight of his stare—hungry, wolfish, eating you alive. he chuckles low, like he’s caught your every secret thought.
“you’re so pretty like this, doll.” his voice is molten, gravel and heat, dripping over your skin. he leans down to kiss you, wet, punishing, before trailing his mouth across your cheek, down your jaw. “makes me jus’ wanna fuckin’ ruin you right here.”
his tongue drags slow and cruel along the line of your jaw before his scarred lips latch onto your neck.
he bites, sucks, leaving deep bruises over fading ones, marking over what’s already his. his hips rut harder against you, heavy dick throbbing against your clit until you’re gasping and arching beneath him.
“sooo fuckin' wet,” he mutters against your throat, lips still sucking bruises as one of his hands slips down to yank your nightdress up, exposing the full swell of your tits. his mouth leaves your neck just long enough to drag down, leaving a wet trail, and latch onto one nipple, sucking wet and hard, tongue circling cruelly as his teeth graze sensitive flesh.
your back arches, a cry tumbling from your lips, and his free hand’s already palming the curve of your pussy, pressing against your sappy core with a groan. "o-oh fu-fuck, toji—"
“gon' breed this pussy till you can’t walk,” he pants into your chest, voice muffled by spit-slick skin, “fill you up so full you won’t ever forget who put it there.”
he slides lower, broad chest pressing against the mattress, until he’s nothing but a head between your thighs.
his grip tightens, big veiny arms locking around your waist and stomach like he’s anchoring you there, like he’s never letting you leave. your legs fall easily over his shoulders, thick thighs caged tight around his head, and the sight alone makes his cock throb against the bed.
he doesn’t rush, though you can see his hunger tearing at the seams of his control. he drags his mouth across the soft inner flesh of your thighs, wet and open-mouthed, leaving trails of spit and bruises that’ll still be there tomorrow.
it isn’t just kissing—it’s damn near making out with your thighs, tasting every inch of you like you’re already spread on his tongue.
your clit throbs helplessly, aching for him, and your chest rises with heavy, uneven breaths. “t-toji. .” you whimper, head tipping back, but your eyes can’t stay away—dragged down to meet the storm of his.
his gaze locks with yours, sharp and molten. lips glisten, chin already wet with your slick he smeared there from teasing, and his voice rumbles deep and low, baritone vibrating straight through your core.
“you ready, pretty girl?”
before your brain can even catch up, before the word yes can leave your lips, his mouth is already there.
hot, wet, perfect—his tongue flattens against your pussy in one long, greedy lick, and you nearly jolt off the bed.
he moans into you, deep and guttural, like he’s the one being fed. his tongue curls, nose pressing into your clit as he eats like a man starved, dragging you closer until his face is buried completely in your cunt.
you cry out, fists twisting into the sheets, thighs trembling around his head as his tongue plunges between your folds, drinking you down with messy, slurping sounds that echo in the room. spit and slick mix on his lips, dripping down his chin, but he doesn’t stop—not even to breathe properly. he lives in it, mouth glued to you, tongue fucking you open while his nose nuzzles and grinds your clit with every movement.
“h-aah! hnnng, toji!” your wail break apart, body twitching, already teetering.
his eyes flick up, devilish, half-lidded but sharp, watching you fall apart above him. he hums into your pussy, the vibration sending another wave of slick gushing onto his tongue, and he drinks every drop.
“sweetest fuckin’ thing i ever tasted,” he growls against you, before diving back in like he’ll never let you go.
his mouth devours you like he’s been starving all his life, and you’re the first real meal he’s ever had.
his tongue drags flat from your entrance to your clit, slow at first, savoring, before circling and lapping like he’s trying to learn every single twitch of your body. your thighs quiver around his head, but his arms are locked tight around your waist, dragging you down harder onto his mouth, forcing you to give him everything.
“pl-please, 'm g'na fuckin’ c-cum again,” your cry comes out cracked, messy, as his tongue flicks quick and precise over your clit.
toji pauses just long enough to suck it between his lips, pulling with obscene wet sounds before flattening his tongue against it again, grinding his mouth into your pussy until slick runs down his chin. he moans like he’s drunk on you, low and guttural, the vibrations shaking through your cunt. every hum, every moan, feels deliberate—like he knows how it’ll make you gush.
your fingers fly to his hair, tugging hard, but he only groans louder into you, rutting his face deeper between your folds. “thaat's it, mama,” he rasps, voice muffled against your wetness. “fuck my face. wan' you ta' make a fuckin' mess on me.”
your hips stutter, rocking against his mouth without thought, chasing the pressure of his tongue circling tight around your clit. it builds unbearably fast, heat curling low in your stomach, legs locking around his head.
“fu-oohh fuuuck, toji—don’t stop—'m cumming!”
he doesn’t. he presses harder, tongue relentless, sucking and licking like he’ll die if he pulls away. the coil quickly snaps! your orgasm crashing through you, pussy spasming as you scream his name, cream spilling against his mouth.
but toji still doesn’t let up.
not even when you’re shaking, not even when you’re whining that it’s too much. he rides your orgasm out, tongue stroking you gentle, lazy licks until the sharp edge dulls, until you’re twitching and gasping against the pillows. you try to catch your breath, chest heaving, but his eyes flick up—dark, starved, feral—and you know he isn’t finished.
“mm, still twitchin’,” he mutters against your pussy, lips brushing your swollen clit as he speaks. “two ain’t enough, baby.”
and then he’s sucking hard, messy and greedy, drawing desperate sounds from your throat all over again. he slides his tongue lower, fucking into your soaked entrance, curling deep while his nose rubs your clit with every motion.
your back arches, fists knotted in his hair, body caught between running away and shoving him closer. you’re babbling nonsense now, legs trembling, heat building all over again way too fast.
“t-toji, i can’t—'m gonna cum a-again!”
he moans into you, tongue plunging deeper, eating every word. his arms tighten around your waist, locking you down until you’re sitting heavy on his mouth, until every gush of slick is swallowed down his throat.
and that third orgasm rips through you even harder than the second. your body jerks violently, spend whipping his mouth and face, thighs clamping tight around his head as you cry out, tears springing in your eyes from how raw, how overwhelming it feels. he moans like he’s the one cumming, drunk off the taste of you, tongue lapping every drop like he’ll never let a single drop go to waste.
when it finally ebbs, you collapse against the pillows, chest heaving, pussy throbbing and spent—and he still won’t stop kissing your folds, licking you slow, like you’re dessert after the main course.
“that's three,” he rasps against your swollen cunt, pressing one last wet kiss to your clit. “and 'm not even inside you yet.”
oh.
you’re breathless, shaking, fucked-out already, and the both of you haven’t even indulged in the real thing yet.
but you’re greedy. needy. your whole body screams for more, for him, for the thick weight of his dick filling you until there’s nothing left. you want his child inside you, want to be bred full ‘til it’s dripping down your thighs, until you’re swollen and heavy with him.
toji wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, tongue sliding slow across his scarred lips to catch the taste of you still clinging there. his eyes are heavy, storm-dark, like he’s drunk off the mess he’s already pulled from your body.
you sigh softly, legs trembling as you shift, coaxing him up from between your thighs. your pussy's raw, sensitive, still wetting the sheets beneath you, and when you sit upright, you blink slow and heavy, lashes sticky from the tears he already pulled out of you.
he’s on you in a heartbeat, hands everywhere, palming your tits through the ruined nightdress, sliding over your ass, gripping your waist so hard it leaves faint crescents.
you can’t help but smile at how hungry he still is for you, thoughts slipping hazy and molten in your fucked-out head.
“t-toji.” you breathe, barely more than a whisper, but it hooks him instantly. his eyes flick up to yours, jaw flexing, chest still rising heavy.
“hm? what’s on your mind now, pretty?” his voice is rough, still ragged from moaning into your pussy, kiss-swollen bottom lip caught between his teeth.
you hum, rolling your hips slow against him as the thought finally locks into place, soft and sinful. “wanna. . wanna try somethin’.”
his brows furrow, suspicion painting his face even as his hands keep roaming like he can’t stop touching you.
and then you move—sliding down onto your stomach, arms stretching out against the sheets and by your neck, ample ass slightly tipping up into the air. your nightdress rides higher with every subtle wiggle of your hips, until it’s bunched above your waist, tits spilling against the mattress, fat cheeks spreading enough to reveal just how wet and messy you still are for him.
the sight makes his dick throb painfully in his sweats.
“but we’ve already done that before, ma.” he grits out, voice taut, like he’s trying to hold himself together.
you glance back lazily over your shoulder, lips parted, smile hazy and filthy. “i know. . but this one’s different.” your voice drips with need, teasing, coaxing, as your ass shifts again, the jiggle intentional, sinful.
his throat bobs, eyes glued to the way you’re presenting yourself to him, pussy glistening and waiting.
“get over me, ’ji.”
the way you say it—breathy, demanding, dripping with promise—snaps something in him.
he wastes no time climbing over you, thighs pressing against the outsides of your own, pinning you flat into the mattress. pronebone. your cheek sinks into the sheets, the scent of sex heavy in the air, your bare pussy already leaving slick stains from where you sat beneath you.
you glance back over your shoulder, eyes glassy, lashes wet, and slide two fingers into the waistband of his sweats. slow. teasing.
you drag the fabric down his hips, down the sharp cut of his v-line. he lets you, even helps you, rolling his hips to shrug them lower until they hit his ankles, dangling off the bed before he kicks them off entirely.
and then the boxers come.
his dick springs free—angry, swollen, wet with pre already, smacking heavy against his abdomen. the sight knocks the breath out of you, obscene, monstrous—nearly the size of your forearm, thick as your wrist, mushroom head flushed red and glistening like it’s begging to split you open and kiss your cervix.
your mouth falls open, a little drop of drool pooling at the corner of your lips as you stare.
toji braces his hands on either side of your head, arms caging you in.
the sheer bulk of him is dizzying, veins bulging along his forearms, biceps flexing, muscles carved and coiled like they could snap your spine in half. he notices the way your eyes fixate on his cock, the hunger leaking off you, and a low laugh curls from his chest.
“like what you see?” his voice is gravel. “look at you starin’.”
your breath shudders as he takes himself in hand, stroking his dick slow, spreading his pre-cum over the thick shaft until it gleams. you crane your neck, stretching to watch his fist slide up and down, every drag slick, your thighs rubbing together beneath you because you’re already desperate for him.
your pussy clenches around nothing, needy and empty.
“you ready f’me, ma?” he murmurs, leaning closer until his mouth hovers by your ear. his free hand slides up your back, over your waist, pinning you harder into the bed.
you tilt your face up, lips parted, thighs parted even wider now, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. your voice catches, shaky. “mhmm. . y-yeah, ‘m ready, ‘ji.”
toji's flushed tip drags through your folds, mean and heavy, smearing pre-cum and slick together, catching against your swollen clit just enough to make you gasp.
“sh-shit,” you whimper, legs twitching.
he chuckles again, but this time it’s darker, feral. “yeah? open this pretty pussy up f’me then. gon' split you in half, mama. stuff you full ‘til you’re drippin’ with my cum.”
and then he pushes forward.
the thick, swollen head catches at your entrance, sliding in, stretching you slow, obscene. your greedy walls flutter, sucking him in inch by fat inch, your slick coating him as he moans into your neck.
“ha—fuuck,” he grits out, jaw locking, his chest heaving above you.
your fingers claw at the sheets, muffled cries spilling out as he eases deeper, your sweet and sappy pussy straining around the fat of him, the stretch delicious and unbearable at once. when his tip nudges past your cervix, you gasp, vision going white at the edges.
“m-mph! it's—you're right—”
he stills, buried to the hilt, his cock thick and throbbing inside you. the fullness makes your toes curl, your entire body trembling beneath him.
“breathe, ma,” he rasps, kissing the side of your head, though his voice is nothing but smug sin. “ain’t even started yet. wanna make you cum all over this dick before i give you my baby.”
and when he starts to move, it’s like every nerve in your body ignites.
toji's dick slides out and back in, each stroke dragging veins along your walls, the head kissing past your cervix and pressing at the exact spot that makes your vision swim. he hasn’t even started a real pace, but it feels too fast, too perfect—like he’s already pounding straight into your center.
you’re stupid for him.
eyes threatening to cross, breath scattering into little broken sounds. every thrust paints you with heat; every roll of his hips pulls something hungry from deep in your chest. the thought of him wrecking you and filling you up to the brim sends another hot ripple through you—you can feel yourself leaking down the front of his thighs, slick and sticky and claiming him.
“talk t'me. what’s on your mind, wife?” he asks, voice low and rough between thrusts like he’s teasing you for clarity. your head is fog, words barely forming, syllables falling out as moans.
“i—i, oohhh! i can’t—”
he groans, hips slamming with a hard, measured anger that makes the bed creak. “hck—can’t hear you, doll. tell me how you feel.”
his palm slaps heavy against your lower back, keeping you pressed to him while his other hand tangles in your hair, holding your head for the next wave.
you try to form it—want, need, panic wrapped in want—and it comes out ragged, half moan, half plead. “wan’ you to. . f-fuuck, please. faster. be r-rough. don’ stop until i-i pass out.” your hand claws at his arm, nails tracing red irritated lines through his skin, voice unraveling with each word.
he laughs, dark and sharp, then answers the prayer with action. "your wish is my command, baby."
his feet plant hard, hips coil, and he drives into you like a man who’s been starving. the pace picks up—long, punishing strokes that slam into you so deep your knees shake. every strike is a promise and a bruise; every pull out leaves you hollow and aching, desperate for the next hit.
his arm snakes under your throat and curls up, a possessive headlock that presses your chin, exposes your neck. the pressure makes your breath hitch and your moans turn higher, the combination of choke and thrust sending sparks behind your eyes.
“y'like when i fuck you like this?” he groans, voice rough against your ear, and then he punishes you exactly how you asked.
he takes you harder, faster, rougher, no mercy. one hand claws into your hip while the other pins your shoulder, leaving you helpless and perfectly displayed. you feel him hammering the base of you, the whole of him forcing your walls to open and close around his length, each hit a hard declaration—mine.
he buries himself to the hilt, every stroke flattening the world until it’s only the press of his pelvis and the slap of skin.
"uhhnn, tojiii!" you scream with him, your name tangled with his, and it’s obscene how much that sound spurs him on. his mouth finds the side of your neck, teeth grazing, tongue dragging bruises into your skin as he whispers filthy promises between thrusts, about the baby, about filling you, about marking you until there’s no forgetting.
"mmpf, who's fuckin' you like this?" he asks, tongue now glazing your ear, fueled with heat and need.
"you—" you try to answer, but with the way his hips collide against yours, the way his tip punches into your womb, pussy stretched around his girthy dick, it fell to deaf ears.
"hah—" he drives into you even harder, long strokes enough to make him whimper. "c-can't hear you, mami. i said—who's fuckin' you like this?"
your eyes go crossed, mouth hanging in a fucked-out smile as you moan pornographically. "'s y-you! y'r, f-fuuuck, fuckin' me like th-this!"
and he laughs. laughs, as he squeezes his arm around your throat, earning a masochistic gasp from you. "yeaah, y’r right. 's aaallll me right here. turnin' my pretty wife into a dumb mess."
your body responds in waves.
first a hot, bright snap—an orgasm that rips through you from the base of your spine to the tips of your fingers, your pussy clenching hard, milking him as he pounds into that tightness, drawing a strangled, animal sound from his throat.
"sh-shiittt, 's a tight fuckin' pussy here. tryna milk me early, hm?"
yet he keeps going; he doesn’t let you fall from the edge. instead he stretches you back over the cliff, punishing, needy, insatiable.
the second blow hits faster, harder, deeper. he finds that one angle where your walls flutter and collapse and you lose yourself again, harder this time, tears prickling because it’s too much and also exactly what you begged for. your legs shake around him, hips bucking with each of his thrusts, mouth open, tasting cotton and salt and the sharp heat of the moment.
his big, veiny bicep tightens around your throat again, and it sends hot lightning bolts down your spine, straight to your pussy.
your walls spasm around him, squeezing so tight he groans through gritted teeth. your eyes roll back, spit slipping from the corner of your mouth onto the sheets.
you look ruined, and he fucking loves it.
toji’s voice breaks in a rasp, hips faltering just a second before he drives back in, his fat, swollen tip slamming against your womb like he’s trying to bruise it. “h-mm, never thought ya liked being choked like that,” he chuckles, breath sharp, hips pistoning into you harder and harder just to watch your ass ripple with each stroke. “that shit really turns you on, mama?”
your body answers before your mouth does—clenching, shivering, dripping.
the slap of his cock into you is wet, obscene, echoing around the room. drool dribbles from your open lips, staining the pillow, and the only sounds you manage are broken whimpers and babbles.
“p-please—f-fuck!,” you choke out, voice strangled, your words ruined under the pressure of his arm and the pounding of his dick.
toji laughs, low and cruel in your ear, hips grinding deeper like he’s savoring every spasm of your cunt. “really does turn you on. look at you—can’t even, ngh—speak, jus’ droolin’ and takin’ me like a slut.” his teeth scrape your jaw, his breath hot.
“pretty wife of mine and you’re this easy for a chokehold. pathetic, yeah?”
the word pathetic makes your pussy clamp even tighter, and he snarls, rutting rougher, sweat dripping from his chest onto your back.
“fuck—y’like when i’m mean to you. don’ even deny it.” his arm flexes tighter around your throat, not enough to cut your air completely but enough to make every thrust sharper, brighter, overwhelming.
his free hand claws into your hip, fingers bruising, dragging you back to meet each thrust.
your ass bounces, flesh jiggling against his pelvis with every punishing hit. you can feel the way his dick splits you open, the stretch obscene, the veins dragging and pulsing against every swollen inch of your walls. it was like he was deep in your stomach.
“gon’ keep choking you ‘til you cum on me again. y’hear me?” he pants, hips slamming harder, his balls slapping against your clit in sloppy rhythm. “want ya t’gush all over me while i squeeze that pretty throat. fuckin’ give it to me.”
and with a pathetic wail—“wait t-tojiii—‘m c-cumming again!” you do.
your body obeys before your brain could even comprehend—sappy cunt spasming violently, gummy walls clamping, slick pouring out onto his cock and down your thighs. you scream his name, the sound breaking under the choke, high and messy. your nails claw at the sheets, at his arm, at anything you can reach, your whole body shuddering through the orgasm.
toji groans, head tilting back, voice sharp and feral. “ohhh f-fuuuck, there she go. makin’ a mess, huh? knew you’d love it. knew you’d fuckin’ melt for me.”
he doesn’t let up. his thrusts stay mean, punching your womb over and over, dragging your orgasm out until you’re thrashing beneath him, drool and tears smearing your face.
then his hand slides down your spine, slapping your ass hard enough to make your back arch. “not done. not until i stuff you so full it’s leaking outta you.” his cock twitches inside you, heavy and swollen, grinding deep with purpose.
“wanna breed this pretty pussy good, mama. give you what you been beggin’ for.”
and with the choke, the pace, the filthy promise dripping from his mouth—you know he’ll fuck you into another climax before he even thinks about filling you.
and he does.
it doesn’t take long until another orgasm rips through you—white-hot and merciless, pleasure snapping your spine into an arch, eyes rolling so far back your lashes flutter uselessly.
a fucked-out grin curls across your lips, broken moans spilling out. and with the way your cunt milks him, clenching down and squirting across the sheets and his shaft, has his own climax barreling toward him fast.
“o-oh—sh-shiit, ‘m gonna cum. you takin’ it? you takin’ every drop i’m givin’ ya?” his voice breaks, hips slamming into you harder, faster, cock bullying your gummy walls like they’re made to mold around him.
you can’t even think anymore—your brain’s nothing but static and fire, pleasure ripping you raw. but you still manage, barely, to choke out your wrecked babbles, filthy moans catching in your throat. “fu-fuck yesss, p-please cum inside—fill me up, wanna be dripping, wanna you t’knock me up, ohhh!”
toji’s balls draw tight, heavy, and then he breaks.
a grunt that shreds into whimpers leaves his throat as his dick jerks inside you, spilling thick, hot ropes into your cunt. he buries himself to the hilt, grinding against your womb as if he could push it deeper, as if he could force your body to take.
the warmth spreads fast, coating every inch of you, painting your walls white. your spasming pussy clutches at him greedily, like you don’t want to let a single drop escape.
you’re smiling again, delirious from it, eyes wet and lips trembling as he stuffs you full. his moans are pitiful—raw, needy pants and whines tearing from his chest, the sound of a man too far gone, drowning in the feel of your sappy pussy squeezing him dry.
and even when he’s emptied himself, he stays there, cock twitching deep, still rutting small, messy thrusts just to watch your pussy gush around him, just to hear the squelch of his seed spilling out of you.
“that’s one from me,” he pants, pressing a sloppy kiss against your damp forehead. his arm slips from around your throat, sliding under your body as he shifts—then he’s flipping you like you weigh nothing, laying you on your back again with a grunt.
“and one ain’t enough, mama.”
he’s above you in an instant, spreading your thighs apart lazily, like he’s unwrapping a gift he already knows is his. his gaze drops, sharp and hungry, zeroing in on the mess between your legs. his cum’s already spilling out of you, dripping in thick white trails down your folds and onto the sheets.
you’re panting hard, chest heaving, tits bouncing with every shaky breath.
your legs cling to his narrow waist, toes curling, body twitching from the overstimulation of being fucked raw and stuffed full.
your eyes are heavy, half-lidded, but you still catch the grin spreading across his face. he’s glowing with it—the filth, the pride—as he stares at your wrecked, glistening pussy like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, voice low, thick with reverence and filth all at once.
he leans down, pressing his forehead close to yours, his breath mixing with yours as he lifts your legs higher, tossing them over his shoulders. your fat thighs squeeze against his chest, your knees pushing up to your tits, locking you into the dirtiest and meanest mating press.
his dick—still heavy, still twitching—is poised right at your ruined entrance, hovering, dripping.
“how you feelin’, doll? feel full already?” his tone is a mockery, sweet but sharp, knowing damn well you can barely form a word.
your lips part, but all that slips out is a broken whimper, a moan that cracks halfway.
toji just smirks wider. “thought so.”
he pushes forward, letting the fat and mean head of his cock press into your abused folds, smearing his own cum across your pussy before pushing it back inside you, inch by antagonizing inch. the stretch makes your eyes water instantly, your body twitching, pussy fluttering helplessly around the intrusion.
“yeaaah,” he moans, breath fanning over your lips as his cock bullies deeper, forcing his cum deeper inside you, stuffing you even fuller.
“you’ll feel real full after this one, ma. pump you so thick you won’t be able to hold it.”
he presses his weight down, folding you in half, his hips grinding hard against yours until he’s buried to the hilt again. you could feel him in your stomach with his tip protruding into your womb once again. his balls slap against your ass, cock stretching you to the brink, and he groans into your mouth—raw, filthy, desperate.
“g’na keep fuckin’ it in,” he pants, eyes blazing, “until this sweet lil’ pussy don’t know how to do nothin’ but take me.”
and he begins to move again.
toji sets a brutal pace, not giving you a second to breathe, let alone adjust to his size. every thrust is deep, punishing, his cock dragging through your walls in long, rough strokes that leave you nothing but wrecked and dizzy. he fucks you like he’s carving his name into your cunt, branding you with every slam of his hips.
his balls clap against your ass, wet and heavy, echoing through the room. your pussy’s so greedy, sucking him in, milking him for every drop he’s already pumped into you. the lewd squelches make him moan—pathetically, shamelessly—his voice breaking as your pussy drinks him down.
“oohhh—mmm toji, pl-please!” you choke, your voice raw, the plea coming out cracked and needy.
he just chuckles darkly. one massive hand pins both your wrists above your head, keeping you helpless, while the other clamps down on your plush hip. he drives his dick into you mercilessly, rutting like he’s got something to prove.
his grin spreads as he catches your glassy eyes trying—and failing—to focus on him, your gaze slipping cross-eyed from how hard he’s hitting.
“ngh—got you all dumb now, huh?” his voice is a taunt, low and cruel, grin feral. his cock throbs inside you, jerking like he could spill again just from the sight of your fucked-out face. “can’t think no more, baby? all gone?”
you can’t answer. not when he’s fucking you this stupid.
your brain’s mush, your mouth’s worse, nothing but broken sobs and moans spilling out. three thick loads already inside you, your pussy’s raw and dripping, but he’s still pounding it like it’s brand new.
“s-sooo deep, ‘m so f-full, ohmygoddd!” you manage, head tilting just enough to glance down.
the sight makes your breath hitch—you can see the way your folds stretch wide around him, swallowing him whole. his shaft’s glazed with cream, a thick ring at the base with every pullout. and there, in your stomach, a fat bulge rising and falling with every brutal thrust.
he follows your eyes down, groaning when he catches the sight. his grin widens, hungry.
“see that, mami? ‘m aaalll in ya fuckin’ guts.” his hand slides off your hip, snaking to your stomach. he presses down hard on the bulge, grinding his cock deeper into your womb. “‘m riiiight here.”
you scream, voice breaking, hoarse from how raw your throat is. the pressure triples the intensity, your pussy fluttering violently around him as if it’s begging him to stay buried. your mind tries to reject the overload, but he just keeps bullying his cock through your walls, stretching you around him like you were made for it.
his head lifts, eyes locking back onto yours, and he drinks you in. you’re a mess—sweat-soaked, lips swollen, drool glistening down your chin. all drunk on him. all his.
his teeth flash, a feral grin slicing across his face. “say ‘ahhh,’ doll.”
your tongue lolls out instantly, obedient, desperate. pink, wet, trembling as you keep eye contact with him, letting him see how wrecked you are for him.
toji’s cock kicks inside you at the sight. he hocks wet spit into his mouth, leaning over you. he spits slow, letting it drip heavy onto your tongue, stringing between your lips before it finally drops.
you moan like a whore, chasing it, swallowing greedily.
“atta fuckin’ girl.” he groans low, eyes dark as sin, and then he’s on you—tongue sliding and licking against yours, messy, wet, filthy. he licks into your mouth like he’s trying to taste himself on you, spit and moans mixing, the kiss nothing but sloppy filth.
spit dribbles down both your chins, warm and sticky, and the kiss is so wet it shoots lightning straight through your spine down into your cunt.
your heavy tits shudder with every brutal stroke, ample ass claps against his thighs, his rhythm goes borderline insane, each thrust harder than the last until your world is nothing but him. you moan into his mouth—loud, broken, animalistic—and toji swallows every sound like it’s his favorite sin.
he eats your lips, sucks them raw, tongues you open and then drags you back into another feverish, sloppy makeout.
every time you try to pull breath he chases you, crushing you into another hot, noisy kiss, then rips away only long enough to drag your kiss-swollen bottom lip between his teeth. before you can blink he’s at your neck, teeth and mouth marking you, painting new bruises over old ones until your skin is a map of him.
his hips go cruel again, a fucked-out metronome pushing you past the edge. he almost slips out, leaves the tip buried, then slams back in so deep your womb gets kissed and your toes curl.
your abused pussy drinks him, sucks him like he’s home, and he groans into your skin—raw and grateful. “fuh-fuckin’ love you,” he rasps, tongue scraping the sweet spot under your ear. “love this pussy—swear i could die in here.”
you try to answer, but it comes out a choked, messy promise—sobbed and moaned into his shoulder. the knot inside you tightens, the world narrows to the pressure around your walls and the way his balls slap into your ass. “lo-love you too—wanna make you a daddy,” you cry, each syllable nearly torn from you.
his reaction is animal.
“yeah?” he huffs, voice breaking as his hips stutter, balls pulling up tight. “you really want m’baby? wanna be my mommy, huh?” he grins, and his words shove straight into your chest like another thrust.
you nod so hard your head rattles against the pillow, eyes rolling. “y-yesss! make me your fu-fuckin’ mommy—gonna take every bit!”
toji loses it then—harder, faster, punishing in a way that’s almost tender because it’s only for you.
he fucks his cum back into you, jerking until he splits again and again, hot ropes burying themselves deep into your cunt, each one making you clench around him like you’re trying to keep every drop. the world explodes in white heat, and you sob and laugh and beg at once as his seed fills you, his hands crushing your hips while he moans your name like a prayer.
when he finally goes slack, still buried, still twitching, he groans and buries his face in your neck, words muffled and soft. “gon’ make you so full of me, gonna make you mine forever, ma. my pretty wife.” he whispers, then kisses every bruise he made. you’re dripping down the sheets with his cum, aching, swollen and warm with him—messy and ruined.
and as you’re all fucked out, dreamy, abused—you smile, looking up at the hazy ceiling as you think, you’re really gonna have his baby.
ᴀɪᴛᴀ ғᴏʀ ᴡᴀɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋ ᴍʏ sʟᴇᴇᴘ ᴘᴀʀᴀʟʏsɪs ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ?
── sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs :: you struggle to fall asleep, leading you to develop sleep paralysis. But what happens when you want him to make you scream with his cocks instead of fear? (2.4k words)
── ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ :: MDNI, fem!reader, SleepParalysisDemon!Sukuna x reader, true form Sukuna, two cocks, piv smut, sex while 'paralysed', titjob, brief mention of f.masturbation, cumming inside, this is very unserious and ehhh I'm soorry
Sleep paralysis — a parasomnia characterised by the presence of disrupted REM sleep and the inability to move for a short period of time.
Everyone's heard of it. Many have experienced it, and that didn't exclude you. But what made your sleep paralysis different from the rest was the absence of fear.
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ ─── it’s bulking season and ur boyfriend ryomen sukuna comes home from the gym looking thicc
mdni | warnings: smut, fem reader, massive size kink, post-gym sukuna, muscle/bulk worship, couch sex, mating press, praise-degradation mix, creampie, exhausted but feral sukuna
The door SLAMS and the whole apartment feels it.
Sukuna doesn’t even kick his shoes off. He’s wrecked after three brutal hours of squats, deadlifts, and whatever else he’s been forcing down his throat to feed this insane bulk. He just drops onto the couch like a goddamn mountain giving up. The frame creaks loud under all that new mass. Tank top soaked black with sweat and clinging to every thick slab of his chest. Sweat dripping down the column of his neck. Those gray sweats stretched in an obscene way over thighs that have doubled in size, heavy and veined and still pumped from the session. Shoulders so wide they swallow half the damn couch. Traps eating his neck. Quads bulging so thick the cushions sink deep beneath him.
He throws his head back, eyes half-lidded, chest heaving.
“Fuck… long day, brat. Don’t start with the attitude.”
But you’re already staring, eyes glued to him like you physically can’t look away. Your mouth goes dry. Heat coils tight and insistent low in your belly.
God, when did he get this big?