You’ve worn your boyfriend Sukuna to the bone, so your other boyfriend Toji takes over.
warnings. fem!reader/tojikuna, threesome, multiple orgasms, piv, kissing, creampie, overstim, ovulation, switch!toji if you squint, dom!sukuna. nsfw 18+ mdni.
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The first thing Toji noticed when he stepped through the front door was the heat. A subtle humidity lacing the air like the sweet lingering remnants of perfume. There was your lotion, sweet and familiar, and the smell of fresh sweat, layered with something primal and musky - the smell of sex.
The second thing he noticed was Sukuna, splayed over the couch like he’d just run a marathon. Tank top soaked through and sweatpants riddled with little damp patches, dotted across the fabric like stray petals. Toji’s gaze dipped without bothering to hide the way he was blatantly staring at Sukuna’s chest, at the heaving pecs peeking out from his neckline, eyes tracking the little bead of sweat beginning to trail a hot path down the center.
“What’s your problem?” Came Toji’s eventual greeting as he paused by the door, tearing his eyes away just to sling his gym bag over the hook there before continuing into the room, water bottle clasped in his hand.
Sukuna glared in reply, and if Toji were anyone else he might have actually felt intimidated by the sight. But with the way the other man was panting, pink tufts of hair stuck every which way and slicked with sweat, he didn’t paint a particularly scary image. In fact the only sensation the sight triggered within Toji was a mild amusement, alongside a tiny spark of heat low and betraying in his belly.
“I’ve already had her four times,” Sukuna grunted, “the brats insatiable.”
Toji snorted mid sip of water, eyes leaving the couch to instead peer through the half opened doorway to the bedroom, where he managed to catch only a glimpse of your bare leg through the crack. From the looks of it you were naked - splayed over the sheets, hair probably still a little damp from the shower, skin lacquered with lotion, half washed away with sweat by now.
“What, she ovulating or something?” Toji wondered aloud, lowering the bottle to once again catch Sukuna’s gaze over the metal rim.
The other man crossed his arms unceremoniously across his chest, and Toji watched the tendons jump in the winding muscle of his forearms as he shrugged.
“That or she’s in heat, damn near milked me dry.” He grumbled, brows knitted, working a mean line between them. If you were here you’d reprimand him for such an expression, crawl over the couch and run your thumb between his salmon brows until the lines wore smooth, or until Sukuna grew bored and wrapped a hand around your wrist to flip you onto the cushions instead.
Toji laughed then, the sound rough and graveled like tattered velvet.
“Seriously?” He scoffed, lips spread into a sly grin as he licked stray droplets from them, “had to tap out did ya’ Ryomen?”
Sukuna’s scowl only deepened, soured now with genuine irritation.
“Just be grateful I wore her out for you,” he spat, “and watch your tone, or it’ll be you spread eagle and whining for more cock next, Fushiguro.”
Toji chuckled again as he screwed the lid of his bottle on tight, the motion accented with a metallic ‘squeak!’ before he tossed it toward Sukuna, hard enough that he heard the fleshy impact when the other man’s hand shot out to catch it.
“Yeah yeah,” he mused, moving past the couch to instead push through the bedroom door, which creaked beneath the effort, “drink some fuckin’ water and get outta my way.”
If he were being honest, when he’d left for the gym that morning he’d been hoping for this exact scenario. Toji knew you - or at least your cycle - well enough to know that you’d wake up needy and leaking, and he knew Sukuna well enough to know he wouldn’t be able to resist the sight of you humping his thigh like a dog in heat for very long. So he’d left without a word just as the sun kissed the horizon, and he’d been half hard in his sweats since his second rep just thinking about it.
If the living room was warm, the air within the bedroom was stifling. But it wasn’t the heat or the sticky sweet scent that knocked the air from Toji’s lungs on entry, no. It was the sight of you - limbs splayed over the mattress, hair messed and wild where your head was tucked between the pillows. Your jaw lifted back far enough to expose the long column of your throat, giving Toji a stellar view of the dark sucking marks peppered there, indents of teeth that he was sure would melt into bruises by the evening.
Toji took in the sight indulgently - paused in the doorway, a lone hand already trailing its way down the curve of his stomach, teasing until his fingers curled over the bulge forming there. He squeezed once and shivered, reveling in the immediate relief that sizzled over his body like a splash of ice water.
He could feel the weight of Sukuna’s gaze piercing into the back of his skull like the promise of a snipers sight. He didn’t indulge the urge to peer over his shoulder and meet that heated gaze, instead he let his hand drop to his side and pressed a knee into the mattress.
You didn’t move, didn’t speak or even open your eyes when he crawled over the sheets, crowding your space like a panther sliding atop its snagged prey.
His hand met the curve of your waist, skin soft and warm beneath his palm, layer of sweat sticking you lightly to him. He trailed one hand downward over the curve of your belly, the other grazed feather-soft over the slopes of your breasts, pausing to pinch gently at either nipple, perked and willing in his hands.
“You’re soaked sweetheart,” he mused when his fingers finally dipped between your thighs, which gave way to him easily, spreading to make room for his forearm to slot between. He moved slowly, palming soft and teasing over your mound and listening to you mumble mindlessly below him.
You whined something unintelligible in reply, voice nothing but a high pitched whimper, crackled like shattered glass.
With a chuckle, he leaned down and craned his head until his ear rested level with your mouth.
“What’s that sweetheart?” He questioned, head tilted to listen.
You swallowed, hard and dry, and licked your lips before you spoke again. Another croaked string of words hit his ear, a touch clearer this time. He realized then that you weren’t mumbling gibberish at all, you were begging.
“More, more, need more, please ‘kuna, please jus’ one more…”
Toji chuckled and lifted his head back to study you again - he found your eyes still closed, brows now knitted into an expression that was decidedly desperate.
“Old Ryo’ couldn’t keep up, huh?” He mused, hands lifted from your body to instead press into the mattress either side of your head, leveraging the weight of him as he slotted himself properly between your thighs.
You offered a gentle huff in reply, eyelids feeling much too heavy to bother opening. Your limbs felt numb, tingling with residual little sizzles of pleasure.
“Don’t worry doll, ‘m here now.”
Toji didn’t waste time working you open or teasing you with the brush of his lips or gentle caresses, no. He simply slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it sideways. His thumb hooked over his waistband, tugged down to let his length spring free and slap hard and raw against you.
The sensation was enough to have his lips parting around a shuddered breath. You felt like heaven - like slick molten silk kissing each bumped ridge as he rutted through your swollen folds. You jolted when he shifted, hard inches rubbing over your clit, still singing with over stimulation.
He grinned and lowered a thumb to pet at your entrance, leaking slick and dribbles of what he was sure was Sukuna’s spend. He traced your rim beneath the head of his cock slowly, smearing the milky little pearls gathered there and wondering just how many loads Sukuna had managed to stuff inside you before he’d finally tapped out. The thought made his breath catch, and sent another sizzle of heat straight to his throbbing cock.
“C’mon, look at me now,” Toji cooed, watching the way any semblance of coherency on your face melted away when he finally pressed down, sinking inside with a single dizzying press of his hips - testament to just how soaked and used you really were.
It was enough to make your eyes roll behind your lids, fluttering with the delicious sting of being stretched open again. Toji treated you with shallow little thrusts. The hair at his base tickling your clit, thick veins pulsing against your rubbed raw walls where Sukuna had pounded you until you cried, until you bruised. And yet despite the pain, the ache - that needling little bud of desire still burned just as hotly as when you’d first awoken that day, stoking the fire in your belly and dribbling lava hot between your aching thighs.
“Oh, oh…” you moaned dumbly, lashes twitching as you finally lifted them and tried to blink away the layer of hazy film that had settled there. Your mind felt fuzzy, vacant. Drunk on the sensation of being stuffed utterly full once again.
“There she is,” Toji soothed.
“‘Ji, it’s you…” came your delayed greeting, nothing more than a breathy whine, “need’t cum, need to cum again, please…”
“Again?” Toji echoed in faux surprise, hips lowing to a torturous roll, “that’s a little greedy of you, don’t you think?”
“Incredibly greedy,” a distant voice interrupted, flat and deep and utterly serious.
Toji tilted his head back just enough to catch sight of Sukuna’s broad form filling the doorway, looking more like the hired security than someone who actually lived there. Toji peered through strands of ink black hair at the big hand that was beginning to dip beneath the waistband of Sukuna’s sweats, palming lazily at the considerable bulge there. Sukuna’s gaze was equally heavy and heated, lowered past the curve of Toji’s spine to track the way your hole was stretching around his thickness.
Toji swallowed, took a final glance at the sight of Sukuna beginning to work his length free from his boxers. His eyes stuck on the exposed slip of tan skin where Sukuna had tugged his shirt upward, the spatter of hair dusted there, before he turned his attention back to you.
“Haven’t even asked how my day was yet, and here you are begging me to make this needy pussy cum,” Toji teased, “and after Ryo’ took such good care of you too.”
“Please,” you cried, shaking your head furiously against the damp pillows crumpled either side of you, “please don’t tease me.”
“Aw I’m sorry sweetheart,” Toji cooed, voice dripping thick with mock concern, “you just need it real bad, huh?”
The delicate shallow thrusts he had been nursing you with suddenly shifted, turned to long pulls smacked back inside hard enough that you felt the tip of him kiss somewhere deep and delicate. Each buck had your legs quivering, and a sharp little shock of pain and pleasure in equal measure sizzling over your skin.
You were lucid enough only to know that he was moving, slow methodical thrusts that felt achingly tender. Each twitch of his worked muscle was purposeful, each motion entirely controlled and aimed to break you apart.
“Shh, just feel it. You feel me, right baby? Nice ‘n deep.” The words were sin incarnate, purred right into your ear.
You were nodding before you could think, slurring a string of unintelligible words alongside breathy cries of his name, strung together like a prayer.
“Deep… deeper…”
The scent of him was intoxicating, dizzying. The sharp sting of fresh sweat and his own familiar woody musk was enough to have you lifting your trembling legs just to hook a heel over his hip and tug him closer.
“Finally knocked all the brains outta you, huh?” Toji teased, “That’s alright, don’t need to think. Just keep squeezin’ this pretty little pussy around me, yeah?”
One of your hands fled the sheets to instead grasp at one of Toji’s bare shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle there.
“Kiss me,” you panted, blinking up at him with wide wet eyes, blown black and glossy with need, “oh, hng-… please Toji…”
Toji didn’t bother with a reply, instead he simply dipped his head and captured your lips in a kiss so sudden you barely had the wherewithal to suck in a lungful of air before he was swiping any lingering thoughts away with the hot slide of his tongue.
You melted into the touch, letting the roll of his jaw guide your movements - moaning in surprise when his teeth nipped at your cracked lower lip, your grip on his shoulder tightening when his tongue met yours.
When you finally split apart you were sufficiently softened by the blend of his sweet kisses and the steady rock of his hips, brain humming quietly like the static of a tv set to a dead channel.
“Good?” Toji questioned, head tilting.
You just nodded, struggling to keep you gaze affixed on the inky strands of hair slipping over Toji’s forehead, that was until a sudden blur of colour crept into the edge of your vision.
“Oi, what are you?-…”
You watched, motion a little delayed, as Sukuna’s hand slid across the back of Toji’s neck. Toji’s eyes widened an inch, looking genuinely shocked for just a moment before Sukuna’s grip tightened, firm hand forcing his head upward until they finally met in a rough crashing of lips.
Peering up you simply watched, entranced, at the slide of pink tongue between sticky sweet flutters of your lashes. Eyes caught on the way Toji’s brows lifted and his hips stuttered just a little when Sukuna’s hand tightened into a fist at his nape, strands of silky black hair sticking wayward through his thick fingers.
Toji grunted into the kiss, rougher now - a tumble of teeth and tongue in stark contrast to the slow rhythm of the embrace you had shared. One of Toji’s hands curled over your hip, thumb mindlessly tracing the bone there. The other found Sukuna’s chest, grasping a handful of fabric before he was shoving the other man backwards.
You watched a glittering thread of spit link them for a moment before it split, and you must have clenched at the obscene sight because Toji made a choked sound above you, falling into the sensation a little like he were suddenly made of jelly.
“Fuck sweetheart,” he panted, lips glossed as he dug a fist into the mattress beside your head, “that’s it, just like that.”
His thrusts didn’t slow or soften, but they felt sloppier somehow, and when you blinked upward you realized why. Sukuna had stepped in behind Toji, plump chest pressed to his back, massive hand still curled around his nape, thumb rubbing soothing little shapes there. His head turned inward, lips pressed to the delicate little strip behind Toji’s ear, breathing so close you could see the speckle of goosebumps begin to prickle over Toji’s skin.
“C’mon Fushiguro,” Sukuna purred, quiet enough that you could barely hear the sweet syrupy words, “don’t get soft on me now.”
Dazed, you watched Sukuna raise a spare hand to his lips, thumb pressed against tongue beneath the glint of pearly canines before he reached past Toji’s hips and tucked it between your thighs. You jerked at the sudden contact, the searing heat of his slick thumb, calloused and rough and perfect against your abused clit.
“Bastard…” Toji gritted, breaths coming ragged now, panting between barely masked grunts of pleasure as his head dipped beneath the weight of the palm at his nape. His gaze was glassy, glued to where you were clamping around him, where your slick was painting the dark curls at his belly white.
Sukuna only grinned in reply, and you could hear the lazy glee lacing his tone with his next words, thumb still rolling over your twitching nub as you writhed beneath his touch.
“Go on now,” he rumbled, low and filthy over the shell of Toji’s ear, and you swore you felt Toji twitch in response. “make the pretty girl cum.”
You could feel it, the looming buzz of your orgasm, curling like the crest of a wave, hot and tight in your belly like the slow cinching of a knot.
“Close ‘ji…’m close,” you slurred, “gonna… hn!- ‘m gonna…”
“I’m right here sweetheart,” Toji was groaning now, shivering a little as the hand at his nape tightened once more. His thrusts were wild - wide sloppy pumps driven haphazardly into the slick mess between your thighs. Sukuna’s thumb continued its assault, drawing steady heart shapes over your clit, right above where Toji was busy splitting you open.
“C’mon princess,” Toji pleaded, words accented with a kicking throb that you felt all the way in your gut, “give it to me.”
You let your eyelids fall shut, squeezed tightly against the way your vision was beginning to blur at the edges. Senses dulled, sounds and scents becoming more and more distant with each second of rising pleasure until suddenly the knot snapped, and you were unraveling along with it.
Toji cursed somewhere beyond the numbed blackness of your senses, and alongside it you felt a flood of heat and the familiar twitching pulse of him as he filled you. Firm hands gripped your waist like an anchor, holding you in place as you squirmed against his final stuttered humps, wracked with unending wave after wave of white hot pleasure.
“Shh, that’s it, that’s a good girl…” Toji was cooing into your ear, forehead pressed to the pillow, only hair tickling your cheek.
The words were a salve, a balm smoothed over your mind until all that was left was the honeyed buzz of pleasure.
You sucked in a shaky breath and realized along with it that you were crying, cheeks soaked and salted with fresh tears. You let your limbs fall, limp and exhausted against the sheets. A subtle ache was beginning to settle in your muscles, in your bones, and yet beneath it all you still felt it - that itch deep inside, like an unending, desirous pit.
“More…” you croaked, voice utterly broken despite your pleading.
Toji scoffed somewhere above you - sounding equal parts shocked and proud at your incessant appetite. You heard the distant thump of approaching footfalls, followed by the telltale creak of a knee digging into the mattress before the bed was dipping beneath a considerable weight, and you felt Toji slip out with a slick sucking sound.
“Move Fushiguro, think I just got my second wind.”
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a/n: kinda ahhh drabble while I work on longer fics bc I’m stuck thinking about tojikuna, hope you enjoy anyway <3
[𝜗℘] :: olderbf!toji loves grinding against you while you suck on his fingers :: cws. smut, pwp. legal age gap.
it started off innocent. cuddling up against toji on the couch, watching your reality show, laughing with each other when funny commentary dropped—just your usual, lazy friday evening.
but then the entire mood shifted as toji snuck his fingers up to your lips. his fingertips were tracing the outline of your pretty mouth, feeling the plumpness of your lips on his rough skin. not before long, his index and middle finger pushed through, ending up inside of your wet mouth.
“suck on ‘m, doll,” toji whispers, teeth sinking into the outer rim of your ear to gently tug at it, “might give ya a reward if you do, m’kay?”
you obediently do as told—your submissive nature being a feature that never failed to arouse toji even more. you suckle on his girthy fingers, your saliva coating his skin and eventually trickling down the corner of your mouth.
his fingers are pulled and pushed back and forth, the tips curling against your tongue as toji mocks the motions he does whenever he’s fingering your cunt. you almost choke because of how deep his two fingers reach—a third digit soon joining the wetness of your mouth.
“mhm, jus’ like that, yeahh—good girl,” toji coos and encourages you from behind, one arm wrapped around your waist to hold you still on his lap.
a whine escapes the back of your throat as you feel toji grind your body against the massive bulge in his pants—your plump ass never not turning him into a groaning and grunting mess.
“fuck. . . can’t wait to have ya suck on somethin’ else, ay? gonna put that mouth to good use on my dick once y’ve earned it.”
you close your eyes, thighs squirming and rubbing against each other. you can already taste him on your tongue. you push your hips back to meet toji’s halfway, the friction making both of you breath heavily.
“wan’ you—“ you manage to speak up, words slurring a bit as your own drool hinders your speech, the gathered up saliva dripping down your chin.
you continue to suck on toji’s fingers as he moves them around, feeling the gums, tongue and roof of your mouth. not a place goes untouched; “pleash? wanna suck you off, toji.”
the older man hisses and tightens his grip around your waist, holding you down firmly whilst his confined cock presses up against your clothed cunt—both eagerly searching for one another.
“yeah, yeah— ya can in a sec, baby,” toji mumbles, licking your earlobe and sucking on the small bit of skin before releasing it, “lemme see how good ya can suck my fingers first.”
a whine in protest leaves your lips and your own hand travels down between your legs. you just need to relieve your own needs, though that dire attempt is quickly stopped by the man underneath you. a smack against your thighs—one which was enough to make you wince—is given out as a warning.
“tch, y’re fuckin’ impatient, huh? greedy slut.” toji scoffs, tone degrading and yet so hot as his deep voice rings in your ear, “i said in a second.”
toji’s fingers reach all the way down until they hit the back of your throat, making your eyes water as your gag reflex threatens to be triggered. his fingers luckily pull back again after a second or two, drenched in your warm saliva.
you gasp for air whilst still feeling toji grind against your ass—the feeling of the fat rubbing against his dick making him so hard that his mind starts to go blank.
he needs you too. now.
“sorry, baby. looks like ya have to take my cock in y’r tight little cunt instead of y’r mouth—ya fine with that?”
synopsis: You ran from your arranged marriage in a torn white wedding dress, desperate to escape the cruel lord your family sold you to. By midnight, you’re on your knees in front of the village butcher, begging for shelter.
Toji Fushiguro doesn’t help runaways.
But when you blurt out that he’s your husband in front of the biggest gossips in town, suddenly the whole village believes you’re his. Now you’re trapped in a fake marriage with the terrifying butcher — a massive, rough, possessive man who has decided that if you’re going to call yourself his wife… he’s going to make it very, very real.
pairing: butcher!toji fushiguro x runaway bride!reader
mdni | warnings: smut, first time, size kink, breeding kink, creampie, cum play, rough sex, possessive/jealous Toji, dirty talk, spanking, manhandling, strength kink, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), fingering, spitting, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, fake marriage
word count: 14.8k
a/n: im kinda obsessed with this ngl... also lmk if your enjoying these longer fics!
The great hall of your family estate felt more like a tomb than a place of celebration.
Thick beams of dark oak loomed overhead, and the air was heavy with the greasy smell of over-roasted venison, spilled sour wine, and your father’s desperation. Two massive iron chandeliers flickered with dying candles, casting long, distorted shadows that danced across the walls. Servants had long since been dismissed, leaving only the three of you: your father, Lord Kato, and you — the silent prize being traded away.
Your father slumped in his carved high-backed chair, cheeks bloated and flushed deep red from too much drink. His once-fine tunic was stained with grease and wine. With a trembling hand, he slid the sealed parchment across the table. The wax bore your family’s broken crest.
“She’s untouched,” he slurred, trying and failing to sound proud. “Barely nineteen summers. Fertile. She’ll give you strong sons, I swear it. Obedient when properly disciplined. This marriage settles every debt between our houses — the gold, the eastern lands, the failed harvests… all of it wiped clean.”
Lord Kato sat across from him like a spider in human skin. Tall and unnaturally pale, with sharp cheekbones and eyes the color of frozen ink. His lips curled into a thin, cruel smile as he let his gaze crawl over your body without shame. He studied the swell of your breasts beneath your gown, the narrow dip of your waist, the way your hands clenched into fists at your sides. The way you trembled.
He took a slow sip of wine, then spoke, voice smooth and cold as winter steel.
“She’ll do nicely. The ceremony will take place tomorrow night at my estate. I expect her delivered in the finest white lace and silk… and nothing beneath it.” His smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed too sharp. “I want easy access the moment the guests leave. I’ve waited long enough for my new bride.”
You stood motionless in the center of the hall, heart pounding so violently you could hear it in your ears. Your skin crawled as if his eyes were already peeling the gown from your body. Nausea twisted in your stomach. This man had already buried three wives. Whispers spoke of bruises, broken bones, and screams that echoed through his halls at night. And now your own father was selling you to him for coin and land.
No one asked if you agreed.
No one asked what you wanted.
No one ever had.
You kept your face blank, eyes lowered like the obedient daughter they expected, while inside your mind screamed.
Later that night, when the household finally fell into drunken slumber and the torches burned low, you moved.
You had planned this in secret for weeks. A plain dark wool cloak stolen from the stables. A small bundle of hard bread, dried cheese, and a waterskin. Soft leather shoes you hoped would last. But the most valuable thing you owned was the wedding gown itself. You had decided to wear the half-finished white dress during your escape — the expensive satin and delicate lace might fetch enough coins in a distant village to buy you passage far away from here. It was risky, but you had nothing else of real value.
You slipped out through the narrow servant’s entrance at the back of the kitchens, the heavy door groaning softly behind you like a warning. The moment your feet touched the cold, dew-soaked grass, terror and fragile hope surged through you in equal measure.
You ran.
The forest swallowed you whole.
Ancient trees loomed like silent judges, their branches clawing at your white gown as if trying to drag you back. The delicate satin — still only half-finished, with pins and loose threads — snagged mercilessly on thorns. You heard fabric tearing again and again: sharp rips that sounded far too loud in the darkness. The long lace veil caught on a low limb and nearly yanked you off your feet; you tore it free with shaking hands, leaving half of it fluttering behind you like a surrendered flag. Mud and wet leaves caked your bare feet. Sharp stones and roots sliced into your soles until every step left bloody prints in the dirt. The cold night air burned your lungs. Sweat soaked your back and chest despite the chill, making the torn gown cling obscenely to your skin. Your legs screamed with exhaustion after only an hour, but fear kept you moving. Behind you, distant shouts echoed through the trees — your father’s guards, torches flickering like angry fireflies. Dogs barked. They were coming.
You pushed harder.
Branches whipped your face, leaving stinging cuts across your cheeks. Your hair fell loose from its elegant pins, wild and tangled. Tears streamed down your face, mixing with blood and dirt. Every shadow looked like a man ready to grab you. Every snap of a twig made your heart seize. You ran until your vision blurred and your chest felt like it would burst. You ran until the shouts grew fainter and the trees finally began to thin.
Hours had passed. The moon hung high and merciless overhead, bathing the world in cold silver light. Your legs trembled violently as you stumbled out of the treeline onto a wide, muddy road. In the distance, warm golden lantern light glowed between clusters of simple wooden buildings. A village.
You nearly collapsed with relief.
The main street was deserted, shutters closed tight against the night. Only one building still showed signs of life. Warm light spilled from its open front door onto the dirt road, carrying with it the thick, metallic scent of fresh blood and raw meat. A weathered wooden sign creaked overhead in the cold breeze:
Fushiguro Meat Co.
You limped toward it, every cut and bruise screaming.
A massive man stood under the wooden awning, illuminated by the lantern light. He was enormous — broad as a barn door, easily over six feet tall, with shoulders and arms so thick with muscle they looked carved from stone. He wore a blood-streaked leather apron tied low on his narrow hips. Beneath it, a simple white tank clung to his sweat-slicked chest, the thin fabric molded to heavy slabs of muscle and dark, scattered scars. His black hair was damp and messy, strands falling across his forehead. A deep, jagged scar twisted the corner of his mouth, giving his face a permanent, dangerous smirk even when he wasn’t smiling.
Thick veins stood out on his forearms as he slowly wiped a long, wicked boning knife clean on the edge of his apron. The blade gleamed.
He looked like violence given human shape — raw, brutal, and utterly terrifying.
You didn’t know his name. You didn’t know anything about him except that he was the only soul still awake, and you were completely out of options.
Your legs gave out the final few steps. You dropped hard to your knees in the cold dirt right in front of him, the torn white satin of your ruined wedding gown pooling around you like spilled milk mixed with blood and mud. Your chest heaved. Fresh tears cut clean tracks down your filthy cheeks.
“Please—” Your voice came out cracked and hoarse, barely more than a whisper. “Hide me. Just for one night. My family… they sold me to Lord Kato to settle their debts. He’s going to break me. Hurt me in ways I can’t even speak of. I’ll do anything you ask — scrub floors until my hands bleed, haul carcasses, sleep in the cold room with the meat, be your servant, your cleaner… anything. Just please… don’t let them take me back.”
You bowed your head, trembling, and clutched desperately at the bloody hem of his apron with both hands, staining your fingers red.
The man stopped moving. He looked down at you slowly, sharp green eyes narrowing as they took in every detail: your torn and filthy wedding dress, the cuts on your face and feet, the desperate tears, the way you knelt before him like a supplicant before a god of slaughter.
He flicked the long knife shut with a loud, metallic click that echoed in the quiet street.
“Not my problem, princess,” he rumbled. His voice was deep, low, and rough — like gravel being dragged across stone. There was no pity in it. “I don’t hide runaways. Go beg somewhere else before you bring trouble to my shop.”
You stayed on your knees, fingers still twisted tight in the bloody hem of his apron. Tears kept falling, mixing with the dirt on your cheeks. “Please… I have nowhere else. They’ll find me by morning. Lord Kato will—”
Footsteps. Soft, quick, coming from the narrow alley beside the butcher shop.
Three women emerged into the lantern light, their shawls pulled tight against the night chill, each carrying a small lantern. They stopped short at the sight of you kneeling in your ruined white gown in front of the massive butcher.
“Gods above,” the tallest one gasped. “Is that a wedding dress? Child, what in the world happened to you?”
The women hurried closer, lanterns swinging. Warm golden light spilled over your torn satin, the mud-caked hem, the blood from his apron smeared across your bodice and hands. One of the younger women pressed a hand to her mouth. “She’s bleeding… and look at her feet!”
You looked down at yourself — the once-beautiful dress now filthy and shredded — then up at the stranger towering over you. His green eyes were narrowed in clear irritation, jaw clenched like he was seconds away from shoving you into the street and bolting the door.
A wild, desperate plan came to your mind.
You pushed yourself up on shaky legs, ignoring the sharp pain in your cut feet. Before he could step away, you grabbed his large, calloused hand with both of yours, clinging desperately. His palm was warm, rough, and still faintly sticky with dried blood.
Turning to the three women with the most exhausted yet radiant smile you could force, you announced clearly:
“This is my husband.”
The words rang in the quiet night air.
The women froze.
You kept going, voice trembling but determined. “We were married in secret this evening. My family didn’t approve — they tried to sell me off to a cruel lord to settle their debts. So I ran away through the forest to reach him. The dress… it got ruined on the way, but I’m here now. I’m exactly where I belong.”
Silence stretched for a heartbeat.
Then the women erupted.
“The butcher got married?!” the tallest one exclaimed, eyes wide. “Toji Fushiguro actually took a wife? I never thought I’d live to see the day!”
One of the younger women clapped her hands together, beaming. “Look at her, even all torn up she’s lovely! Brave thing, running through the woods in the middle of the night just to get to her husband.”
The third woman laughed warmly. “We’ll bring fresh bread and some stew first thing in the morning for you newlyweds. Can’t have Toji’s new wife going hungry on her first day here!”
Toji.
So that was his name. Toji Fushiguro.
You felt the man — Toji — stiffen beside you. His massive hand twitched hard in your grip, muscles flexing like he was fighting the urge to rip free and deny everything. His sharp green eyes burned into the side of your face, dark with fury and silent threat. But the women were watching excitedly. The whole village would know the story by sunrise if he contradicted you now.
You squeezed his hand tighter, nails digging into his skin in a silent, desperate plea. Please. Just play along.
Toji’s scarred jaw flexed. A low, dangerous growl rumbled deep in his chest. For one terrifying second you thought he might expose you.
Then, in the flattest, most reluctant voice you had ever heard, he grunted:
“…Yeah. She’s mine now. Wife.”
The women squealed with delight. They offered more congratulations, promised gifts for the “newlyweds,” and finally bustled away down the dark street, lanterns bobbing and their voices already carrying the juicy news.
The moment their footsteps faded, Toji’s grip turned bruising. He yanked you forward so hard you stumbled against his broad, solid chest, then dragged you roughly through the open door of the butcher shop. The heavy oak door slammed shut behind you with a resounding thud that rattled the walls.
Inside, the air was thick and heavy — cold iron, raw meat, woodsmoke, and the faint metallic tang of fresh blood. A single lantern burned low on the wooden counter, casting long, flickering shadows over heavy chopping blocks, hanging meat hooks, and rows of sharp knives.
Toji spun you around and shoved your back against the closed door. One thick, powerful forearm braced beside your head, completely caging you in. His massive body loomed over yours, heat rolling off him in waves. The scent of blood, sweat, and raw masculinity filled your lungs.
His green eyes were dark with fury… and something much darker, much hungrier.
“What the fuck was that?” he snarled, voice low and lethal. “You just told half the goddamn village you’re my wife. You got any idea what you’ve done, little runaway?”
Your heart slammed against your ribs. You could feel the hard press of his chest against yours, the sheer size of him making you feel tiny and trapped.
“It was the only way,” you whispered, breathing fast. “They would’ve dragged me back to Lord Kato by morning if they knew the truth. Now they think I belong to you. No one will question it. Please… just let me stay the night. I’ll disappear at dawn, I swear it.”
Toji stared down at you for a long, heavy moment. His scarred mouth twisted into a slow, dangerous smirk. His free hand came up and gripped your chin firmly, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his intense green eyes.
“Disappear?” he growled, thumb pressing hard into your jaw. “Too late for that, princess. You just tied yourself to me in front of witnesses.”
He leaned in closer, so close his breath ghosted hot across your lips. His voice dropped even lower, rough and full of promise.
“You owe me now. Big time.”
His gaze dragged slowly down your body — over the torn white lace barely clinging to your curves, the bloodstains, the way your chest heaved with fear and adrenaline. He just held you there, pinned against the door, letting the heavy tension coil tighter and tighter between you.
“Upstairs,” he finally ordered, voice like gravel. “Now. We’re gonna have a long talk about what you just got yourself into.”
Toji didn’t give you time to argue.
His massive hand clamped around your upper arm like a steel band and he hauled you away from the door. You stumbled after him on aching, bleeding feet as he dragged you through the back of the shop. The scent of raw meat grew thicker near the cold room, but he turned toward a narrow wooden staircase tucked behind a heavy curtain.
“Move,” he growled when you hesitated at the bottom step.
You climbed. Each step sent fresh pain shooting up your legs, but you bit your lip and kept going. Toji followed close behind, his heavy boots loud on the old wood, one hand still gripping your arm so you couldn’t possibly run.
The stairs opened directly into a small, sparse apartment above the butcher shop. It was surprisingly clean for a man who spent his days covered in blood. A single main room served as both living space and kitchen — a sturdy wooden table with two chairs, a stone hearth with dying embers, a few shelves holding jars of preserved meat and dried herbs. A narrow hallway led to what you assumed were the bedroom and washroom. Moonlight spilled through two small windows, painting everything in cool silver.
Toji kicked the door at the top of the stairs shut behind him and finally released your arm. You immediately backed up a few steps, the torn hem of your wedding dress whispering across the floorboards.
He folded his thick arms across his broad chest, blood-stained apron still tied around his waist, and stared at you like you were a problem he was deciding how to carve up.
“Start talking,” he said flatly. “And don’t leave anything out. Who the fuck are you, why is a lord hunting you, and why the hell did you decide to drag me into your mess?”
You swallowed hard, still catching your breath. You introduced yourself by name, then continued quietly, “My family is in debt. Deep debt. They sold me to Lord Kato yesterday to settle it. He’s a cruel man. Three wives before me, and none of them lasted long. He told my father in front of me what he plans to do on our wedding night.” Your voice cracked. “I couldn’t stay. I ran in the only thing of value I had — this dress. I thought maybe I could sell it in a village for enough coin to disappear.”
Toji’s green eyes flicked over the ruined white lace clinging to your body — torn, muddy, bloodstained. He let out a low, humorless snort.
“And instead of keeping your mouth shut and hiding somewhere quiet, you decided the best plan was to announce to the biggest gossips in the village that you’re married to the local butcher.” He took one heavy step closer. “You realize what you’ve done?”
You nodded quickly. “They won’t hand me over now. Not if they think I belong to you. The whole village will protect the butcher’s wife… right?”
Toji laughed — a short, dark sound that sent a shiver down your spine.
“Protect?” He shook his head. “You just painted a target on my back too, princess. Lord Kato isn’t the type to let his property run off. When he comes looking — and he will come looking — he’s going to hear all about how the village butcher stole his bride.”
He dragged a large hand down his face, clearly pissed off, but there was something else in his expression now. A glint of dark amusement. Maybe even reluctant interest.
“You’re either the bravest idiot I’ve ever met… or the most cunning.”
You stood there trembling in the middle of his living room, arms wrapped around yourself. The torn bodice of the dress had slipped dangerously low on your shoulders, but you didn’t dare fix it.
“I’ll leave at first light,” you promised again, softer this time. “I won’t cause you any more trouble. Just… let me stay until sunrise. Please, Toji.”
Hearing his name from your lips made his eyes narrow.
“Don’t,” he warned. “You don’t get to say my name like we’re actually married.”
He turned away from you and walked over to the small hearth. He crouched down, added two fresh logs, and stoked the fire back to life with practiced efficiency. The warm orange glow slowly filled the room, chasing away some of the chill.
When he stood again, he looked even bigger in the firelight — shoulders impossibly wide, muscles shifting under the thin tank top, the scar at his mouth pulling as he scowled.
“Sit,” he ordered, nodding toward one of the wooden chairs at the table. “You’re bleeding all over my floor.”
You obeyed, lowering yourself carefully onto the chair. The moment you sat, exhaustion crashed into you like a wave. Your feet throbbed. Every cut and bruise ached. You were filthy, terrified, and running on nothing but fear and adrenaline.
Toji disappeared down the short hallway and returned a minute later with a metal basin, a clean rag, and a small jar. He set the basin on the floor in front of you, then dropped into the chair across the table, watching you with those sharp green eyes.
“Clean your feet,” he said gruffly. “I’m not carrying you around if they get infected.”
You dipped the rag into the water and started wiping away the mud and blood as carefully as you could. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. The fire crackled. Outside, the village was completely quiet.
Toji leaned back in his chair, arms crossed again, studying you like livestock.
“You really think this marriage story is gonna hold?” he asked after a long minute. “Village folk love to talk. By noon tomorrow everyone’s gonna want to meet my mysterious bride.”
You kept your eyes on your injured feet. “I just need a day or two to figure out where to go next. I can… I can work. I’m not useless. I can clean, cook, help in the shop—”
Toji’s low chuckle cut you off.
“You? Working in a butcher shop?” He shook his head. “You look like you’ve never touched anything bloodier than a sewing needle in your life.”
He watched you struggle to clean a deep cut on your sole for another moment before he made an irritated sound and leaned forward.
“Give me your foot.”
You hesitated.
“Now,” he growled.
You slowly lifted your leg. Toji took your ankle in his huge, rough hand — surprisingly gentle despite the calluses and dried blood on his fingers. He pulled the basin closer and started cleaning your wounds himself with careful, efficient movements.
The contrast was jarring: this terrifying mountain of a man, covered in someone else’s blood, carefully tending to your torn-up feet.
“You’re staying the night,” he said quietly, not looking up from his work. “Not because I’m kind. Because if I throw you out now, those three hens will ask questions I don’t feel like answering. Tomorrow we figure out what the hell to do with you.”
He finished cleaning one foot and moved to the other. His thumb brushed accidentally over a sensitive spot and you hissed softly.
Toji’s eyes flicked up to your face for a second, something unreadable flashing across his expression.
“After that…” He set your foot down carefully and leaned back again, voice dropping into a low, dangerous rumble. “You’re gonna start paying off the trouble you just caused me.”
He didn’t explain what that meant.
But the way he was looking at you — slow, heavy, possessive — made heat crawl up your neck despite the fear.
Toji held your gaze for another long moment before he finally released your ankle. He pushed the basin aside with his boot and stood, towering over you once more. The firelight danced across the hard lines of his face, catching on the jagged scar at the corner of his mouth.
“Stay there,” he muttered.
He disappeared into the back room again. You heard the sound of water splashing, then heavy footsteps returning. When he came back, he carried a thick wool blanket and a tin cup. He set the cup in front of you — it was filled with cool water — and dropped the blanket over the back of your chair.
“Drink,” he ordered. “You look half-dead.”
You obeyed without thinking, your hands still trembling slightly as you lifted the cup. The water was clean and cold, soothing your raw throat. Toji watched you drink the entire thing, arms crossed, before he spoke again.
You lowered the empty cup. “Thank you… for the water. And for cleaning my feet.”
He made a dismissive sound in the back of his throat, like thanks made him uncomfortable. Then he leaned against the edge of the table, close enough that his thigh nearly brushed your arm.
“You really thought this through?” he asked, voice low. “Running in a fancy white dress, announcing yourself as my wife in front of the nosiest women in the village… What’s your actual plan once the sun comes up?”
You stared down at your bandaged feet. “I didn’t have time for a real plan. I just knew I couldn’t let them marry me off to that monster. I thought if I could get far enough away, maybe sell the dress, I could buy passage on a cart or a boat. Start over somewhere no one knows me.”
Toji exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh but darker. “Selling that dress would’ve gotten you robbed or worse before you even reached the next town. You’re lucky you only made it as far as my doorstep.”
Silence settled again, broken only by the crackling fire. You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, suddenly aware of how exposed you still were — the torn bodice of the wedding gown hanging loosely, the lace ripped in several places, dirt and dried blood streaked across your skin.
Toji’s eyes drifted over you again, slower this time. They lingered on the curve of your shoulder where the dress had slipped, the rise and fall of your chest, the way the white fabric clung to your thighs.
“You look ridiculous,” he said bluntly. “Like a bride who lost a fight with a pack of wolves.”
Despite everything, a tiny, tired smile tugged at your lips. “That’s… not far from the truth.”
He pushed off the table and walked over to a wooden chest in the corner. He rummaged inside and pulled out a large, worn linen shirt — clearly one of his. It looked big enough to reach your knees.
“Here.” He tossed it to you. “Can’t have you walking around my place looking like that. Change. There’s a washroom down the hall if you want to clean up more.”
You clutched the shirt to your chest. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he warned. “You’re still in my house. Still wearing that damn dress that’s going to bring trouble to my door.”
He turned his back to give you a moment of privacy, busying himself by adding another log to the fire. You quickly stood, wincing at the pain in your feet, and slipped behind the partial wall that separated the washroom. You peeled off the ruined wedding dress with shaking hands, letting the torn fabric pool at your feet. The cool air kissed your bare skin as you pulled Toji’s shirt over your head. It smelled faintly of smoke, soap, and something unmistakably masculine. The hem fell halfway down your thighs.
When you stepped back out, Toji turned around. His eyes darkened the moment they landed on you in his shirt.
“Better,” he grunted, though his voice sounded rougher than before.
He gestured toward the narrow hallway. “Bedroom’s at the end. Only one bed. You take it tonight. I’ll sleep out here.”
You hesitated. “I can sleep on the floor. I’ve already caused enough—”
“Don’t argue,” he cut you off. “My house, my rules. Get some sleep. You look like you’re about to fall over.”
You walked carefully down the short hall, every step still painful. The bedroom was small and simple like the rest of the apartment — a large wooden bed with thick blankets, a single chair, and a window overlooking the dark village street. You climbed onto the bed, pulling the covers over yourself.
Toji appeared in the doorway a minute later, leaning one broad shoulder against the frame. The firelight from the main room silhouetted his massive form.
“Door stays open,” he said. “And don’t even think about sneaking out in the middle of the night. If I have to chase you down, I won’t be in a generous mood.”
You nodded, sinking deeper into the mattress. Exhaustion was pulling at you hard now, but sleep still felt far away with him standing there watching you.
“Toji…” you whispered.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Thank you,” you said again, softer. “For not throwing me out.”
His expression didn’t soften, but something in his eyes shifted. He pushed off the doorframe and turned to leave.
“Get some sleep, runaway,” he muttered. “You’re gonna need it.”
He left the door wide open. You heard him moving around in the main room — the creak of the wooden chair as he sat down, the quiet clink of a cup. The fire continued to crackle.
You lay there in his bed, wrapped in his shirt, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on you. The fake marriage. The village women who now believed you were his wife. Lord Kato still out there searching. And the terrifying, strangely careful butcher who had just tended to your wounds and given you his bed.
Sleep finally claimed you, but even in your dreams you could still feel the heavy weight of Toji’s gaze on your skin.
You woke to the sound of knocking.
It was loud, cheerful, and relentless — three sharp raps on the shop door downstairs, followed by muffled feminine voices. Sunlight streamed through the small bedroom window, warm and golden. For a brief, disoriented moment you forgot where you were. Then everything crashed back: the forest, the blood-stained butcher, the lie you’d told.
You sat up quickly. Toji’s oversized linen shirt had ridden up your thighs during the night. Your feet still ached, but the bandages held firm. You heard heavy footsteps downstairs, then Toji’s low, irritated growl as he opened the door.
“Morning!” a cheerful woman’s voice called up. “We brought breakfast for the newlyweds! Fresh bread, stew, and honey cakes. Don’t tell us you’re still in bed on your wedding night!”
Another woman giggled. “We’re dying to meet your bride properly!”
Toji’s heavy footsteps came up the stairs. He appeared in the bedroom doorway, looking imposing in the daylight. He wore a clean black tunic stretched tight across his chest, the same blood-stained apron tied around his waist. His hair was messy, jaw set with clear annoyance.
“They’re here,” he said flatly. “Three of them. Loaded with food.”
Your stomach twisted. “What do we do?”
Toji’s green eyes dragged over you — bare legs, wearing nothing but his shirt. Something dark flickered across his face.
“You sold us as newlyweds,” he reminded you, voice low. “So act like it. Smile. Look happy. Keep the story straight.”
He stepped closer and tugged the hem of the shirt down your thighs possessively. “There’s a spare skirt and blouse in the chest. Change. Quickly.”
You moved fast, wincing at the pain in your feet. Toji turned his back while you dressed in the simple dark green skirt and cream blouse. They were a little loose but far more practical.
When you were ready, Toji gave you one last look and jerked his head toward the stairs. “Downstairs. Remember — you’re my wife.”
The three women had already let themselves into the front of the shop. They had laid out a generous spread on the wooden counter: warm bread, a pot of hearty stew, honey cakes, and spiced cider. The moment you appeared behind Toji, their faces lit up.
“Oh, here she is!” the tallest, round-faced woman exclaimed. “Look at you, dear. Much better than last night. I’m Mrs. Sato, by the way! My husband runs the bakery just down the street.” She gestured to the other two. “This is Mira and little Hana.”
The younger women smiled warmly.
“You clean up beautifully,” Mira said. “You already have that newlywed glow!”
You felt heat rise in your cheeks. Toji’s large hand settled heavily on your lower back, warm and claiming.
“Thank you,” you said, offering a shy smile. “You’re all so kind. I’m sorry for how I looked last night… the journey through the forest was harder than I expected.”
Mrs. Sato waved her hand. “No apologies needed! Running away from a bad match to be with the man you love? It’s the most romantic thing to happen in this village in years.”
Toji grunted, his thumb slowly stroking your spine. “Wasn’t exactly planned,” he said dryly. “But here we are.”
The women laughed and chattered while you helped serve the food. They asked how you met, how long you’d been secretly courting, and whether you planned to stay in the village. You answered carefully, sticking close to the story. Toji added short, gruff confirmations, never moving far from your side.
Just as the women were gathering their empty baskets to leave, a loud, sharp knock echoed through the shop.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
This knock was different — heavy, authoritative, and impatient.
Toji’s hand tensed on your back. His expression hardened instantly.
Mrs. Sato glanced toward the door, curious. “Are you expecting more visitors already?”
Toji didn’t answer. He moved toward the door, positioning himself so his broad frame blocked most of the view inside. You stayed behind the counter, heart suddenly hammering.
He opened the door.
Two armed men stood outside, wearing the dark crimson and gold colors of Lord Kato’s household. Swords hung at their hips. Their eyes scanned the interior of the shop coldly.
“We’re searching for a missing girl,” the taller guard announced. “Runaway bride. White wedding dress. She fled the lord’s estate last night. Anyone matching that description come through here?”
The air in the shop grew thick. Mrs. Sato and the other two women turned to look at you with wide eyes, then back at the guards.
Toji’s voice was calm but ice-cold. “No one like that here.”
The second guard tried to peer past him. “Mind if we take a look inside?”
You stayed frozen behind the counter, heart hammering. Before Toji could answer, Mrs. Sato stepped forward with the confidence of someone who had gossiped through every scandal the village had ever seen.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said brightly, waving a hand. “You boys are wasting your time. That right there is Toji Fushiguro — our butcher for the last fifteen years. We’ve known him since he was a surly teenager dragging whole pigs through these doors!”
Mira immediately jumped in, nodding eagerly. “And he has a wife! They’ve been happily married for two whole years now. We were at their quiet little wedding ourselves. Very romantic.”
Hana clapped her hands together dramatically. “Yes! They’re the sweetest couple. Toji can barely keep his hands off her even when he’s covered in blood. Always canoodling right outside the shop like they’re still courting!”
Mrs. Sato leaned toward the guards like she was sharing precious village lore. “Honestly, if some runaway noble girl in a fancy white dress had shown up here last night, the entire village would’ve known before sunrise. This dear girl has been living above the shop for ages. Helps Toji with the accounts and everything. She’s no fugitive — she’s the butcher’s wife, plain and simple.”
Toji finally moved. He reached back with one thick arm, caught you around the waist, and pulled you forward against his side in one smooth motion. His grip was firm and possessive, his large hand resting heavily on your hip as he held you close.
The guards blinked, clearly thrown by the united front.
The taller one squinted at you. “But the missing girl was wearing a white wedding dress…”
Mira let out a theatrical laugh. “Plenty of white dresses in the world! Our girl here has been wearing plain village clothes for years. Look at her — does she look like some pampered noble who ran away last night?”
Hana nodded vigorously. “Exactly! She even makes the best meat pies in the village. We’d know if she was some lord’s bride.”
The two guards exchanged uncertain glances. Between Toji’s intimidating size, the three women’s absolute certainty, and the perfectly domestic scene in front of them, their suspicion melted away.
The shorter guard cleared his throat. “Seems like a false lead, then. Sorry to bother you folks.”
The taller one gave a reluctant nod. “Apologies for the intrusion. If you hear anything about a girl in a white dress, send word to the lord’s estate.”
Mrs. Sato smiled sweetly. “Of course, dears. Safe travels back!”
The guards turned and walked off down the street without another word.
The moment the door clicked shut, Mrs. Sato burst into laughter and fanned herself. “Well! That was more excitement than we usually get before noon.”
Mira winked at you. “Don’t worry, love. We’ve got your back. No one’s taking the butcher’s wife anywhere.”
Hana grinned. “We’ll spread the word. The whole village will keep an eye out.”
Toji gave them a short, gruff nod. “Appreciate it.”
The women gathered their empty baskets, still buzzing, and finally left with more promises of future visits and gifts.
The shop fell quiet again, morning sunlight streaming peacefully through the windows.
Toji slowly turned to face you. His hand was still on your waist, heavy and warm. For a long moment he just studied you, green eyes dark and intense.
“You’re damn lucky those three are the nosiest women alive,” he muttered. “They just sold that story better than we could’ve.”
He stepped closer, backing you gently against the counter. His voice dropped low, rough around the edges.
“So the whole village’s got our back it seems.” His thumb brushed slowly over your hip bone. “This lie keeps growing. Whole village thinks you’re mine now.”
His gaze dropped to your lips for a heartbeat before returning to your eyes.
“So tell me, runaway… how long do you plan on playing my wife? And how far are you willing to go to make everyone believe it?”
You swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close he was. The counter pressed into your lower back, and Toji’s broad body blocked out most of the morning light. His hand remained heavy on your hip, thumb still tracing slow, absent circles that made your skin prickle beneath the thin blouse.
“I… I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t think past getting away from Lord Kato. I just wanted to survive the night.”
Toji hummed, low and thoughtful. He tilted his head slightly, studying your face like he was trying to decide whether you were worth the growing headache you’d brought him.
“Surviving isn’t enough anymore,” he said. “Not after this morning. Those guards will report back. When they don’t find you, Kato will send more men. Maybe even come himself.” His fingers flexed on your hip. “And the whole village now believes you’re mine. If the story breaks, they’ll look like fools. They won’t forgive that easily.”
You met his eyes, heart thudding. “Then what do we do?”
For a moment he didn’t answer. Instead he reached up with his free hand and brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, the gesture surprisingly gentle for someone so rough-looking. His calloused fingertips lingered against the side of your neck.
“We lean into it,” he finally said. “Hard. You stay. You act like my wife in public — every smile, every touch, every time someone knocks on that door. No slipping up. No running off when it gets hard.”
He leaned in a fraction closer, voice dropping. “And in private… we figure out the real terms.”
Your breath caught. “Real terms?”
Toji’s scarred mouth curved into a slow, dangerous half-smirk. “You cost me peace and quiet, runaway. You cost me the simple life where nobody bothered me. So you’re going to start paying me back.”
He didn’t elaborate, but the heat in his green eyes made it very clear what kind of payment he had in mind.
“I won’t force you,” he continued, surprising you. “Door’s right there. You can still walk out and take your chances on the road. But if you stay…” His hand slid from your hip to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. “Then you’re mine until this blows over. Or longer. Depends how good you are at pretending.”
The solid wall of his chest pressed against you, warm and unyielding. You could smell faint traces of smoke, soap, and the metallic hint of blood that never quite left him. Your hands came up instinctively, resting lightly on his abdomen.
“I’m not pretending right now,” you whispered.
Toji’s eyes darkened. For a second you thought he might kiss you — really kiss you — but he held back, letting the tension stretch until it was almost unbearable.
“Good,” he murmured. “Because the village expects a devoted wife. They’ll be watching. Bringing food. Asking questions. Asking when we’re going to have little butchers running around.”
Your face burned. Toji chuckled, deep and rough, clearly enjoying your reaction.
“Don’t worry. We’ll give them a good show.” He finally stepped back, giving you room to breathe again, though his hand lingered on your waist a moment longer. “For now, help me open the shop. Act natural. If anyone else comes asking, you know what to say.”
You nodded, still flushed.
As he turned to start his morning routine — sharpening knives, hanging fresh cuts, preparing the counter — you moved to help where you could. Every time you passed near him, his hand would brush your lower back or arm — small, deliberate touches that looked casual to anyone watching but felt heavy with intent.
By midday, a few villagers had already stopped by “just to say hello” and congratulate the newlyweds. Each time, Toji played his part perfectly — gruff, possessive, pulling you close with an ease that made the performance feel dangerously real.
An older man dropped off a small basket of eggs and clapped Toji on the back. “Didn’t think I’d live to see you settle down, Fushiguro. She must be something special.”
Toji’s arm tightened around your waist as he gave a low grunt. “She is.” His fingers flexed against your side, warm through the fabric of your blouse. You leaned into him instinctively, playing along, and felt the solid wall of muscle beneath his tunic.
A young mother came next with her toddler in tow, offering a jar of preserved berries. She smiled at you brightly. “You two look so good together. How long have you been hiding her from us, Toji?”
“Long enough,” he answered, voice rough but carrying a hint of smugness. He pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the top of your head right in front of her. The casual affection made your stomach flutter.
By early afternoon the steady trickle of visitors finally slowed. Toji flipped the shop sign to “Closed for the Day” and locked the front door with a heavy click. The sudden silence felt louder than all the chatter combined.
You let out a shaky breath and leaned against the counter, arms wrapped around yourself. “They really believe it. All of them.”
Toji wiped his hands on a rag, watching you from across the room. He tossed the rag aside and stalked toward you, slow and deliberate.
Gods, he was huge.
Up close like this, in the quiet afternoon light, the sheer size of him hit you all over again. Broad shoulders that seemed to stretch the fabric of his black tunic, thick arms corded with muscle from years of hauling heavy carcasses, a powerful chest that rose and fell steadily. The jagged scar at the corner of his mouth only made him more striking — dangerous, rough, and strangely, undeniably attractive. Those sharp green eyes pinned you in place, intimidating as ever, yet there was something magnetic about the way he moved. Like a predator who knew exactly how much power he held and chose not to use it… yet.
He stopped right in front of you, so close you had to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. One large hand came up to cup your chin, thumb brushing along your jaw.
“You’re handling this better than I expected,” he said quietly.
You felt your pulse quicken under his touch. “I feel like I’m going to faint every time someone looks at me.”
His thumb stroked slowly over your skin. “You’re not fainting. You’re standing here in my shop, wearing my clothes, letting me touch you like you belong to me.” His voice dropped lower. “Looks pretty convincing from where I’m standing.”
The air between you thickened. You could smell the faint mix of blood, woodsmoke, and clean sweat that clung to him. His sheer physical presence was overwhelming — the heat rolling off his massive frame, the way his broad chest nearly brushed against you with every breath.
“What happens when the guards come back?” you asked, voice softer than you intended.
Toji’s expression darkened. “Then we give them the same show. Or I handle it my way.” His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, fingers threading gently into your hair. “But right now? Shop’s closed. No more visitors. No more pretending for a little while.”
He didn’t move away. Neither did you.
Instead, you found yourself leaning into his touch, exhaustion and adrenaline twisting into something warmer, heavier. Your hands rose to rest on his chest, feeling the hard, solid muscle beneath your palms.
“Toji…” you started, unsure what you even wanted to say.
He cut you off with a low sound. “Careful. You keep saying my name like that and I might start believing this marriage is real myself.”
His grip on the back of your neck tightened just slightly — not painful, but enough to remind you how easily he could pull you in. His green eyes dropped to your mouth, lingering this time, dark with hunger.
“You still haven’t answered my question from earlier,” he murmured. “How far are you willing to go, runaway?”
The shop was quiet except for the distant sounds of village life outside. No one was watching now. It was just the two of you, the weight of the lie, and the growing, electric heat between you.
You wet your lips, heart racing.
“I’m still here,” you whispered. “That should tell you something.”
Toji’s scarred mouth curved into a slow, hungry smirk.
“Yeah,” he said, voice rough. “It does.”
The silence that followed felt heavier than before. The shop was quiet now, the afternoon light cutting sharp lines across the wooden floor and the rows of knives hanging on the wall. Toji didn’t step back. He stayed right there, towering over you, one hand still gripping the back of your neck while the other rested heavy on your hip.
He really was massive up close.
Broad shoulders that strained his tunic, thick arms veined and scarred from years of brutal work, a chest so solid it looked like it could take a hit from a horse and keep going. The scar at the corner of his mouth gave his face a permanent edge, dangerous and rough. Yet there was something about the way he looked at you — intense green eyes, half-lidded, focused — that made your stomach tighten in a way that had nothing to do with fear.
Toji noticed you staring.
“Eyes up here,” he muttered, but the corner of his scarred mouth twitched like he was amused. “You keep looking at me like that and I’m gonna get the wrong idea.”
You swallowed. “I’ve never been this close to someone like you.”
“Someone like me,” he repeated, almost mocking. He leaned in a little more, voice dropping low. “Big, ugly butcher covered in blood half the time?”
You shook your head. “Not ugly.”
The words slipped out before you could stop them. Toji paused, eyes narrowing slightly like he was trying to decide if you were lying. Then he let out a short, rough breath.
His thumb brushed slowly along the side of your neck, calloused and warm. You could feel the strength in his hand, how easily he could tighten his grip if he wanted. The contrast between that raw power and the way he was holding back made the air feel thick.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said quietly. His gaze dropped to your mouth for a second before flicking back up. “I’m not a patient man, runaway. And I’m definitely not a gentle one.”
Your hands were still pressed against his chest. Under your palms, his muscles were firm and warm, shifting slightly with each breath. You didn’t pull away.
“I know,” you whispered.
Toji’s jaw flexed. For a moment his control looked strained — shoulders tense, fingers pressing harder into your skin. He leaned down until his face was inches from yours, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath.
“If you stay,” he said, voice low and deliberate, “this stops being fake whenever I say it does. Behind this door, you won’t be playing a role. You’ll be in my bed. Under me. Taking what I give you.” His thumb dragged across your lower lip. “And you’ll moan my name like you mean it.”
Your breath caught.
Toji held your gaze for another long second, then slowly released you. He stepped back, rolling one shoulder like he needed to shake off the tension. The sudden space felt colder than it should have.
“But not right now,” he added gruffly. “You’re still half-dead on your feet and I’ve got work to finish before the meat spoils.”
He turned toward the back counter and picked up his sharpening stone. The steady scrape of metal filled the shop as he worked on one of his larger knives. You stayed by the front counter, watching the way his back and arms moved — powerful, efficient, every motion reminding you exactly what kind of man had just offered to claim you.
Every so often he glanced over at you, eyes dark and unreadable.
The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. It was charged. Heavy with everything neither of you was saying out loud.
After a while, Toji spoke without looking up from his work.
“You hungry?”
You blinked, surprised by the sudden normal question. “A little.”
He jerked his head toward the stairs. “There’s leftover stew from this morning in the pot upstairs. Heat it up if you want. Or stay down here. Doesn’t matter to me.”
You hesitated, then moved to help him organize the counter instead. Every time you passed close by, his arm would brush yours — deliberate, not accidental. Small reminders that the tension hadn’t gone anywhere.
The afternoon stretched on like that. Quiet work. Occasional glances. The weight of his presence never really leaving you.
By the time the sun had fully set and the village outside grew dark and quiet, the tension between you had only thickened. Lanterns flickered in distant windows, but inside the butcher shop everything felt hushed and intimate.
Toji locked the front door with a heavy click and killed most of the lanterns, leaving only a single low one burning near the stairs. The warm glow followed you both upstairs, casting long shadows across the wooden beams.
He grabbed a spare blanket from the chest and headed for the worn couch against the far wall without a word. The piece of furniture looked comically small beneath his massive frame as he tossed the blanket over it. Then he reached back and pulled his tunic off in one smooth motion.
Your mouth went dry.
Firelight danced over his bare back and shoulders — thick slabs of muscle shifting under scarred skin, powerful arms flexing as he folded the tunic. His waist tapered into a sharp V, disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers. Every inch of him looked hard, battle-worn, and undeniably masculine. The sight made something low in your belly tighten.
You stood frozen in the bedroom doorway.
“Wait,” you said, voice barely louder than a whisper.
Toji glanced over his shoulder, one dark brow raised. The movement made the muscles in his chest and abdomen flex visibly.
You twisted your fingers in the hem of your blouse, cheeks already burning.
“You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” you offered shyly. “The bed is… big enough for both of us. I don’t mind sharing.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Toji slowly turned around to face you fully. The low firelight carved deep shadows across his torso, highlighting every ridge of muscle, every old scar, the faint trail of dark hair disappearing into his trousers. He looked even bigger like this — raw power barely contained, green eyes locked on you with dangerous intensity.
He took one slow step closer, then another.
“Careful what you offer me, runaway,” he said, voice low and gravel-rough. “I’m not the type to hold back.”
You swallowed hard but didn’t back away.
“I just… it doesn’t feel right making you sleep on that tiny thing after everything,” you murmured, eyes flicking involuntarily down his bare chest before snapping back up. “We’re supposed to be married. At least to everyone else.”
Toji stopped just inches away from you. The heat radiating from his body wrapped around you like a cloak. You could smell him — smoke, clean sweat, and that faint metallic trace that always clung to his skin. His sheer size made you feel small and fragile in comparison.
He tilted his head, studying you like prey.
“You offering to share my bed isn’t about being polite,” he murmured. “If I get in that bed with you, I’m not staying on my side. I’ll pull you against me. I’ll have my hands all over that soft little body. And if you keep looking at me with those wide, needy eyes…”
He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke.
“I won’t be able to stop myself from spreading those pretty thighs and finding out exactly how wet pretending to be my wife has made you.”
Your breath hitched sharply. Heat flooded your face and pooled between your legs. You pressed your thighs together instinctively, but Toji noticed — of course he did. A dark, satisfied sound rumbled in his chest.
He pulled back just enough to look at your face again, eyes heavy-lidded and hungry.
“I’m not gentle,” he continued, voice dropping even lower. “I fuck hard. I take what I want. And right now, I want to ruin that shy little runaway who dropped to her knees at my door and turned my whole life upside down.”
His hand came up, knuckles lightly dragging down the side of your neck, over your racing pulse, then lower until they brushed the neckline of your blouse. Not quite touching skin, but close enough to make you shiver.
“So think very carefully before you offer again,” he warned. “Because once I’m in that bed, the only pretending left will be how long you can keep quiet while I’m buried inside you.”
The air felt too thick to breathe.
Toji’s scarred mouth curved into a slow, predatory smirk as he watched the effect his words had on you.
“Still want to share a bed with me… wife?”
Toji’s words hung heavy in the air.
You didn’t answer with words.
You looked up at him, heart hammering so hard you could feel it in your throat, and gave a small, shy nod.
That was all it took.
Toji’s control snapped. A low, almost feral sound rumbled in his chest as he moved. In one fluid motion he scooped you up, one thick arm under your knees and the other around your back, lifting you like you weighed nothing. Your breath caught at how easily he carried you — his biceps flexing hard against your body, the heat of his bare chest pressing into your side.
He carried you the few steps to the bed and laid you down on your back with surprising care, but the look in his eyes was anything but gentle. The mattress dipped deeply under his weight as he climbed over you, caging you in completely with his massive frame. His broad shoulders blocked out most of the firelight, leaving you in shadow beneath him.
“You a virgin?” he asked, voice low and rough, green eyes searching yours like he was looking for any hesitation.
You nodded again, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Fuck,” he breathed, the word almost reverent. His gaze darkened as it dragged slowly down your body. “Gonna have to take my time with you then. Can’t wreck this tight little virgin cunt on the first thrust.”
He kissed you deeply, tongue claiming your mouth in slow, filthy strokes while his rough hands explored every inch of you. He took his time peeling your clothes off — first tugging your blouse over your head, then sliding your skirt down your legs, and finally hooking his fingers into your soaked panties and dragging them off. When you were completely naked beneath him, he sat back on his heels and just stared, drinking in every inch of your exposed body like a man who’d been starving for weeks.
“So fucking small,” he muttered, almost to himself. His large hands ran up your thighs, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin on the inside, then spread your legs wide open. “Look at this pretty virgin pussy… already glistening and I’ve barely touched you.”
The cool air hit your wet folds and you shivered. Toji’s eyes were locked between your legs, dark and hungry, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
He lowered himself between your spread thighs like a man on a mission. The first slow, hot drag of his tongue from your entrance all the way up to your clit made your entire body jolt. Toji groaned deeply at your taste, the sound vibrating straight through you.
“Sweet as hell,” he rasped, voice thick with lust. “Could eat this pussy for hours.”
Then he devoured you.
His tongue worked in slow, broad strokes, licking every inch of your soaked folds before focusing on your swollen clit. He sucked the sensitive bud into his hot mouth, flicking it rapidly with the tip of his tongue while two thick fingers teased your entrance, circling and pressing but not pushing in yet. When you started whimpering and rolling your hips, he finally pushed one thick finger inside you — careful, but relentless.
“So goddamn tight,” he growled against your pussy, the vibration making your toes curl. “This little hole is gonna fight my cock the whole way in.”
He curled his finger slowly, searching, until he found that spongy spot that made your back arch. He rubbed it firmly while sucking harder on your clit. The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth and fingers filled the quiet bedroom — slick, filthy, and loud. Your thighs started trembling around his head as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly.
“Toji— oh gods—”
He didn’t let up. He ate you out like he was starving for it — messy, hungry, and completely focused on pulling every sound out of you. He added a second finger, stretching you open carefully, scissoring them while his tongue flicked fast and firm over your clit. The pressure built unbearably fast.
Your orgasm crashed over you without warning. Your back arched clean off the bed as you came hard on his face with a broken, sobbing cry of his name. Your walls clamped down around his fingers, pulsing wildly.
Toji licked you through every wave, slow and thorough, drawing out every last tremor until you were twitching and oversensitive, whimpering softly. Only then did he pull back. His chin and lips were shiny with your slick. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark and satisfied as he looked up at your flushed, panting face.
Then he shoved his trousers down.
His cock sprang free — thick, heavy, veined, and longer than anything you’d ever imagined. The flushed head was already leaking steadily.
“See this?” he said, stroking himself slowly. “This is gonna stretch you wide open, baby. But I’ll make it fit.”
He climbed back over you, pushing your legs up and folding your knees toward your chest. The position left you completely exposed. He rubbed the fat head of his cock up and down your drenched folds, coating himself in your wetness, teasing your clit with every pass.
“Deep breaths,” he warned. “Gonna go slow.”
He pushed in.
The stretch was intense. You gasped sharply, a high-pitched whimper escaping you as just the thick head popped inside. “Ah—! Toji… it’s so big…”
Toji groaned, jaw clenched tight as he fought the urge to slam forward. “Fuck— so tight,” he hissed. “Relax for me, baby. Let me in.”
You whimpered softly, fingers clutching at his shoulders. “It burns… but— ah— don’t stop…”
He worked himself in inch by slow, careful inch. Every time you tensed, he stopped, leaning down to kiss your neck or suck on your tits until you loosened again. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the restraint.
Halfway in, you let out a shaky moan, eyes fluttering. “Oh gods… I can feel you so deep already…”
Toji looked down at the bulge already forming in your lower belly. “Shit… look at that,” he groaned, pressing a big hand over the swell. “My cock’s barely halfway and I can already see it inside you.”
When he finally bottomed out, hips flush against your ass, you felt so full you could barely breathe. A broken whimper left your lips. “T-Toji… you’re all the way in… I feel so full…”
Toji stayed still, buried to the hilt, letting you adjust while he kissed you slow and deep. “Good girl,” he praised, voice strained. “Taking every inch of my cock on your first time. Such a perfect little wife.”
When your whimpers turned into soft, needy moans, he started moving — slow, deep rolls of his hips at first. The wet drag of his thick cock against your walls made you cry out.
“Feel that?” he growled. “Feel how deep I am? Gonna breed this cunt so full tonight.”
“Ah—! Yes… I feel it,” you moaned, voice trembling. “It’s so deep… Toji—!”
His pace gradually picked up. The bed started creaking rhythmically as he fucked you harder, deeper. Your tits bounced with every thrust. You couldn’t stop the desperate sounds spilling from your mouth.
“Gonna fill you up,” he panted. “Pump this tight womb full of my cum until it takes. Want you walking around the village with my kid growing inside you. Everyone’s gonna know exactly who fucked you first.”
The filthy words sent you spiraling. “Please— Toji— I’m gonna—!” You came hard around his cock, walls fluttering and squeezing him like a vice as you screamed his name, “Toji—! Ahh—!”
Toji snarled and fucked you through it, pace turning brutal. The wet slap of skin on skin echoed loudly.
“Fuck— gonna cum,” he groaned. “Gonna breed you— take it all—”
You whimpered and moaned beneath him, voice hoarse, “Cum inside me… please— fill me up—!”
He slammed in deep one final time and came with a long, guttural moan. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your pussy, pulse after heavy pulse. There was so much it leaked out around his cock despite how tightly you were stretched around him. Toji kept grinding deep, pushing every drop into your womb, hand pressing down on the bulge in your belly like he wanted to keep it all inside you.
You let out a soft, overwhelmed whimper at the feeling of being so full of him.
He stayed buried inside you for a long moment, chest heaving against yours, both of you slick with sweat.
Then he leaned down, kissed you slow and possessive, and murmured against your lips:
“This cunt belongs to me.”
Toji stayed inside you for a while longer, gently grinding and kissing your neck, before he finally pulled out with a low groan. A thick trickle of his cum leaked from your abused hole onto the sheets. He looked down at the mess with dark satisfaction, then rolled onto his back and pulled you against his chest.
“Rest now,” he said quietly, voice rough but surprisingly gentle as he wrapped a heavy arm around you. “You’ve had a long day, runaway. Close your eyes.”
He pressed one last kiss to the top of your head, his large hand resting possessively on your lower belly.
“Go to sleep.”
-
You woke up to warmth.
A heavy, solid arm was draped across your waist, pinning you to a broad chest. Toji’s body was curled around yours from behind, one thick thigh wedged between your legs. His breathing was slow and deep, but the moment you shifted even slightly, his grip tightened possessively.
The room was still dim, early morning light just beginning to creep through the small window. Your body ached — a deep, satisfying soreness between your thighs, faint bruises on your hips from his fingers, and the unmistakable sticky warmth of his cum still leaking out of you.
You tried to move again, but Toji’s low, sleepy growl stopped you.
“Stay,” he muttered against the back of your neck, voice rough with sleep. His hand slid down to cup your lower belly, pressing lightly. “Not done holding you yet.”
Heat rushed to your face. You stayed still, letting him pull you tighter against him. His cock — already half-hard again — rested heavy against your ass.
After a few quiet minutes, Toji sighed and finally loosened his grip. He rolled you onto your back so he could look down at you. His hair was messy, eyes still heavy-lidded, but the smirk on his scarred mouth was fully awake.
“Morning,” he said, voice gravelly. His hand stayed on your stomach, thumb stroking slow circles. “How’re you feeling?”
You shifted, wincing a little at the soreness. “Full… and sore,” you admitted softly.
Toji’s smirk widened into something darker, more satisfied. He leaned down and kissed you — slow and lazy at first, then deeper, tongue sliding against yours. When he pulled back, he dragged his hand lower, fingers brushing through the mess between your thighs.
“Still leaking my cum,” he murmured, almost proud. “Good.”
He pushed two thick fingers back inside you, slow and careful, fucking his dried cum deeper. You whimpered, hips twitching.
“Toji—”
“Shh,” he soothed, kissing your temple. “Not fucking you again right now. You’re too sore.” He kept his fingers inside you anyway, lazy and possessive. “Just keeping you full.”
You stayed like that for a while — his fingers buried inside you, his mouth brushing lazy kisses along your neck and shoulder. The morning was quiet except for the occasional creak of the bed and your soft sounds.
Eventually he pulled his fingers out, brought them to his mouth, and licked them clean while watching your face.
“Breakfast,” he said simply. “Then we open the shop.”
He got up first, completely naked and shameless. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at the powerful lines of his back, the flex of his ass and thighs as he moved. He caught you looking and chuckled.
“Keep staring like that and I will bend you over the table downstairs,” he warned.
You quickly looked away, cheeks burning.
He tossed you one of his clean shirts and a fresh skirt. While you dressed, he pulled on his usual trousers and tank top, tying his blood-stained apron around his waist.
Before you left the bedroom, he caught your wrist and pulled you close one more time. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb brushing your bottom lip.
“Last night wasn’t pretend,” he said quietly, eyes serious. “Not for me. You’re mine. Understand?”
You swallowed and whispered, “I understand.”
He kissed you again — hard, claiming — then rested his forehead against yours for a second.
“Good.”
He led you downstairs, his hand firm on your lower back the entire way.
The village was waking up outside. And for the first time since you’d run away, you didn’t feel like running anymore.
Toji unlocked the front door and flipped the sign while you tied on a clean apron. The morning air carried the smell of fresh bread from Mrs. Sato’s bakery and the distant clang of the blacksmith’s hammer. A few early customers began drifting toward the shop.
The first hour passed in a surprisingly calm rhythm. You helped weigh portions, wrap cuts of meat in clean paper, and hand them over with a shy smile. Toji stayed close the whole time — sometimes reaching past you for a knife, sometimes resting a hand on your waist as he moved behind you. Every touch felt deliberate, like he was marking his territory even when no one was watching.
Then the bell above the door rang again.
A tall, sun-tanned man with kind eyes and an easy, friendly smile stepped inside. He looked to be in his late twenties, with the strong build of someone who spent his days working the fields. He greeted Toji with a familiar nod.
“Morning, Fushiguro. The usual shoulder cut, please.” His gaze shifted to you behind the counter and softened with genuine interest. “You must be the new wife everyone’s been talking about. I’m Haru. I run the big farm past the mill.”
You returned his smile politely. “Nice to meet you, Haru.”
He watched as you carefully wrapped his order, your hands still a little clumsy with the butcher paper. “It’s good to see a new face around here,” he said warmly. “You seem really kind. Gentle. The kind of person who makes a place feel brighter just by being in it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, almost shyly. “If you ever need anything — extra vegetables from the farm, help carrying something heavy, or just someone to talk to when things get quiet — my door’s always open. Wouldn’t want you feeling lonely so soon after moving in.”
You tilted your head, completely oblivious to any hidden meaning, and gave him a grateful smile. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Before you could say anything else, the air behind you changed.
Toji’s large hand settled heavily on your hip, fingers digging in with clear possession as he pulled you back firmly against his chest. His other arm slid around your waist, locking you in place.
“She won’t be needing anything,” Toji said, his voice low and dangerously even. “I take care of my wife.”
Haru blinked, the friendly smile faltering as he finally registered the tension rolling off the butcher. “Of course. I was just… being neighborly.”
Toji’s grip on your hip tightened. “Neighborly is saying hello. The rest sounded like something else.”
The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable. Haru swallowed hard, quickly paid for his meat, and muttered a polite goodbye before leaving without another word. The door swung shut behind him with a soft jingle.
The second he was gone, Toji spun you around and backed you against the counter. His green eyes were dark, jaw clenched tight with barely-contained jealousy. One big hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb pressing lightly against your bottom lip.
“You really didn’t notice?” he muttered, voice rough.
You shook your head, genuinely confused. “He was just being nice…”
Toji let out a short, irritated breath and leaned in closer, forehead almost touching yours. “He wasn’t just being nice. He was testing the waters. Seeing if my wife might be open to something else. Offering you a soft place to land if you ever got tired of me.”
His other hand slid under your skirt, fingers brushing between your thighs and finding you still slick from the night before. You gasped softly as he pushed two thick fingers inside you without warning, curling them slowly.
“Toji—”
“Mine,” he growled quietly against your ear, pumping his fingers in a lazy rhythm. “This pussy is mine. You are mine. I don’t want you smiling so sweetly at other men. Understand?”
You whimpered, clutching his shoulders as pleasure sparked through your still-sensitive body. “I understand…”
He kissed you then — hard, possessive, and hungry — while his fingers continued their slow, deliberate strokes. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were still dark with jealousy.
“Next time someone talks to you like that,” he said, voice low, “you let me handle it.”
He reluctantly withdrew his fingers, straightened your skirt, and stepped back like nothing had happened. But the tension in his shoulders and the dark look in his eyes remained.
“Back to work,” he said gruffly, still clearly worked up.
You nodded, legs shaky, heart racing, and turned back to the counter.
The rest of the morning passed with Toji staying even closer than before — a constant, heavy, possessive presence at your side. Every time another customer entered, his hand found your waist or lower back, silently reminding everyone (and you) exactly who you belonged to.
The rest of the morning dragged on with the same heavy tension.
Every time a male customer stepped through the door, Toji’s demeanor shifted. His hand would find your waist, your hip, or the small of your back — a silent, unmistakable claim. He answered questions in short, clipped tones and watched the men with sharp, warning eyes. You tried to focus on wrapping orders and smiling politely, but the constant possessiveness was becoming impossible to ignore.
By early afternoon, when the shop finally quieted again, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.
You turned to him while he was wiping down the counter.
“Toji,” you said softly, “you’re being too much.”
He paused, setting the rag down slowly. When he looked at you, his green eyes had gone dark.
“Too much?” he repeated, voice low and deceptively calm.
You swallowed but stood your ground. “Yes. The constant touching, the glaring at every man who even looks at me... They’re just customers.”
Toji stared at you for a long, heavy beat. Then he slowly walked around the counter, backing you up until your hips hit the edge. He caged you in with his massive frame, one hand braced beside you on the wood, the other coming up to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.
“You think I’m being too possessive?” he murmured, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “Tell me something, wife… What kind of husband would I be if I let other men think they can have access to what’s mine?”
His voice was rough, low, and dangerous. “If I smiled and stepped aside while they flirted with you? While they offered you help and soft words like they had any right to you?”
He leaned in closer, breath hot against your ear. “I’d be a fucking joke. A weak man who doesn’t know how to protect what belongs to him. And I’m not weak.”
His free hand slid under your skirt without warning, fingers pushing between your thighs. You were bare underneath. The moment his calloused fingertips brushed your folds, he groaned softly — low and rough — when he found you already wet again.
“Already soaked,” he muttered, voice thick with satisfaction. “Complaining about me being too possessive, but your pussy is dripping the second I touch you.”
“Toji—” you whimpered, hips twitching as two thick fingers pushed inside you in one smooth motion. The stretch made you gasp, your walls still tender and sensitive from the night before.
He curled his fingers slowly, deliberately, stroking that spongy spot deep inside you while his thumb found your swollen clit and rubbed tight, firm circles. His mouth latched onto your neck, sucking hard enough to leave another mark, teeth grazing your skin as he worked you open.
You moaned, loud and broken, clutching desperately at his broad shoulders. Your legs trembled around his wrist as pleasure sparked hot and fast through your body.
“You can tell me I’m too much,” he growled against your throat, biting down lightly before soothing the sting with his tongue. “But we both know the truth. You like it when I act like this. You like knowing no one else can touch you. You like being mine.”
His fingers pumped faster, curling with every thrust, the wet, obscene sounds of your arousal filling the quiet shop. Your hips rolled against his hand instinctively, chasing the pleasure even as your thighs shook.
“Ah— Toji… please—” you moaned, voice cracking. Your head fell back, exposing more of your neck to him. He took full advantage, sucking and biting along your skin while his fingers drove deeper, faster.
You were right there — teetering on the edge, muscles tightening around his thick fingers — when he suddenly pulled his hand away completely.
You let out a desperate, needy whine, hips chasing his fingers uselessly. Your core throbbed, aching and empty.
“Toji…!” you whimpered, voice hoarse and frustrated, eyes glassy with unshed tears of need. “Please— I was so close…”
Toji smirked, dark and satisfied, eyes gleaming with lust as he watched you squirm. He brought his glistening fingers up between you, holding them in front of your face so you could see how wet they were — coated in your slick right up to his knuckles.
“Open,” he ordered, voice low and commanding.
You obeyed instantly, parting your lips. He pushed his fingers into your mouth, letting you taste yourself as you sucked them clean, tongue swirling around them obediently. His green eyes darkened further, pupils blown wide as he watched you.
“Good girl,” he murmured, voice rough with arousal. “Look at you… so fucking eager. Whining because I stopped, sucking my fingers like you’d do anything for my cock right now.”
He pulled his fingers free with a wet pop and leaned in, kissing you deeply, tasting you on your own tongue. When he pulled back, his breath was ragged.
“You can complain about me being possessive all you want,” he said, voice dark and low, “but your body doesn’t lie. This pussy knows exactly who it belongs to.”
He suddenly lifted you onto the counter with ease, as if you weighed nothing. The wood was cool against the backs of your thighs as he shoved your skirt all the way up to your waist in one rough motion, baring your dripping pussy completely. He stepped between your spread thighs, his broad body forcing your legs wider apart until your knees were nearly touching your shoulders.
His hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, fingers digging deep into your soft flesh with unmistakable ownership. With his other hand, he freed his cock — thick, heavy, and already throbbing. The veined shaft glistened as he stroked himself once, slowly, eyes locked on your exposed, glistening cunt.
“Since you think I’m too possessive,” he said, voice rough and dangerous, “I’m going to remind you exactly why I am.”
He rubbed the fat, leaking head of his cock up and down your soaked folds, coating every thick inch in your slick. He teased your swollen clit with every slow pass, tapping it lightly until your hips jerked and you let out a needy whimper.
“Toji… please—”
Without another word, he pushed in with one deep, powerful thrust.
You cried out sharply, back arching hard off the counter as the thick head forced its way inside, stretching you wide open. The sudden, overwhelming fullness stole your breath. Toji groaned deeply, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke, his hips flush against your ass.
“Fuck… still so tight,” he growled, voice strained with pleasure. “Even after I filled you last night. This greedy little cunt keeps sucking me in like it doesn’t want to let go.”
He didn’t give you any time to adjust. He started fucking you hard and deep, the heavy wooden counter creaking loudly under the force of every brutal thrust. Your moans echoed shamelessly through the empty shop as he claimed you right there in the middle of the day.
“Mine,” he snarled against your neck, biting down hard enough to leave another dark mark. “Say it.”
“I’m yours— ah— Toji—!” you moaned, voice breaking as your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, heels digging into his lower back.
He fucked you even harder, hips snapping forward with powerful, punishing strokes. The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room, loud and filthy. One of his big hands reached between your bodies, his thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing fast, tight circles.
“That’s right,” he panted, breath hot against your ear. “My wife. My pussy. No one else gets to look at you the way I do. No one else gets to touch you. No one else even gets to fucking think about you.”
Your moans grew louder and more desperate, your walls fluttering around his thick cock with every deep thrust. The counter shook beneath you. Your tits bounced wildly inside your blouse with the force of his movements.
He suddenly leaned back slightly, gripping your thighs and spreading you even wider as he drove into you. The new angle made him hit even deeper, the bulge in your lower belly becoming visible with every thrust.
“Look at that,” he groaned, eyes fixed on the spot where his cock disappeared inside you. “You’re taking me so fucking deep. This tight cunt was made for my cock.”
You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter inside you. “Toji—! It’s too deep— ahh—!”
“You can take it,” he growled, fucking you harder. “You’re going to take everything I give you.”
Your orgasm crashed over you without warning — fast, violent, and overwhelming. Your walls clenched hard around his cock, fluttering and squeezing as waves of intense pleasure tore through your body. You screamed his name, thighs shaking violently around his waist.
Toji snarled like a beast, his rhythm turning erratic and savage as he fucked you through your climax. He kept pounding into you, chasing his own release, hips slamming against yours with wet, filthy sounds.
But he didn’t cum.
Instead, he suddenly slowed his thrusts, grinding deep and slow, keeping you right on the edge of overstimulation. His breathing was ragged, sweat glistening on his chest and neck.
He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a messy, possessive kiss while still buried deep inside you.
“You’re not done yet,” he murmured against your lips, voice dark and full of promise. “We’re nowhere near finished.”
Before you could catch your breath, Toji pulled out of you with a wet, obscene sound. You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, your pussy clenching around nothing, already missing the thick stretch of him. But he didn’t give you any time to protest.
In one swift, powerful motion, he flipped you over onto your stomach across the counter. Your chest pressed against the cool, smooth surface, your cheek resting on the wood as he yanked your hips back and up, forcing your ass high in the air. Your skirt was still bunched uselessly around your waist, leaving you completely exposed — bent over like a whore in the middle of his shop.
Toji kicked your legs wider apart with his foot, then pressed one large hand firmly between your shoulder blades, pinning you down hard against the counter.
“Fuck, look at you,” he growled, voice thick with raw lust. “Bent over my counter like a proper little wife. Ass up, pussy dripping for me.”
He spread your ass cheeks wide with both hands, exposing your swollen, abused pussy completely. Without any warning, he spat directly onto your folds — a thick, warm glob of saliva landing right on your clit and dripping down. You gasped sharply at the filthy sensation, your hips twitching.
Toji groaned at the sight and used two thick fingers to rub his spit into your pussy, mixing it with your own slick, pushing it inside you. Then he brought his palm down hard on your ass with a loud, resounding smack.
The sharp sting bloomed hot across your skin. You cried out, jolting forward on the counter.
“Stay still,” he ordered, voice rough. He smacked the other cheek even harder, watching the way your flesh jiggled and turned pink under his hand. “This ass is mine too. Every fucking inch of you is mine.”
You moaned helplessly, pushing back against him despite the sting. Toji lined up the thick head of his cock again and thrust back inside you in one brutal, deep stroke.
The new angle made him feel impossibly bigger, reaching even deeper. You moaned loudly, fingers scrambling for purchase on the smooth wooden counter as he immediately started fucking you hard and fast.
The counter creaked loudly under the force of his powerful thrusts. Each snap of his hips drove his thick cock impossibly deep, the wet slap of skin against skin echoing through the empty shop. Toji’s hands gripped your hips in a bruising hold, pulling you back onto his cock with every stroke like he was using you.
“Fuck— this pussy feels even better like this,” he groaned, voice rough and strained. He smacked your ass again, harder this time, watching the way your flesh rippled red under his palm. “So fucking wet. You like being bent over and used like this, don’t you?”
“Yes— ah— Toji—!” you moaned, cheek pressed against the cool counter, eyes fluttering shut. Every brutal thrust made your breasts press harder into the wood, your sensitive nipples dragging against it.
Toji reached forward and fisted a hand in your hair, pulling your head back slightly as he fucked you even harder. His hips slammed against your ass with wet, filthy sounds. He spat on your pussy again, right where his thick cock was stretching you open, and used his thumb to rub the saliva into your swollen clit.
“Such a messy little wife,” he panted, smacking your ass repeatedly between thrusts — sharp, stinging slaps that made you clench tighter around him. “Dripping all over my counter. Taking my cock so deep like you were made for it. Look at this greedy cunt swallowing every inch.”
Your moans turned into broken sobs of pleasure. The combination of his brutal pace, the stinging heat on your ass, and the filthy words pushed you right to the edge again.
Toji leaned over you, his broad chest pressing against your back, his breath hot and ragged against your ear as he kept pounding into you without mercy.
“Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he growled, smacking your ass one more time, hard enough to make you yelp.
“You—! It belongs to you— Toji—!” you cried out, voice hoarse and desperate.
He snarled in satisfaction and fucked you even harder, the counter shaking beneath you. His hand slipped between your legs again, rubbing your clit fast and rough.
You came with a broken scream, your walls clamping down hard around his thick cock, thighs shaking violently as intense pleasure tore through you.
Toji groaned loudly as your orgasm triggered his own. He slammed in deep one final time and came hard, flooding your pussy with thick, hot spurts of cum. He kept grinding into you slowly, pushing every drop as deep as possible, his hips pressed tight against your reddened ass.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the shop were your heavy breathing and the faint drip of his cum leaking out of you onto the floor.
Toji stayed buried inside you, leaning over your back and kissing the back of your neck possessively.
“Still think I’m being too possessive?” he murmured against your skin, voice dark and satisfied.
You could only whimper in response, too overwhelmed to form words. Your body was trembling, pressed against the counter, pussy still fluttering weakly around his thick cock. Every small shift made you feel the mess he’d left inside you — warm, sticky, and so full it was leaking down your thighs.
Toji let out a low, rumbling sound of approval. He stayed deep for a long moment, grinding slow and lazy, pushing his cum even deeper as if he couldn’t stand the thought of any of it escaping. His large hand smoothed over the reddened skin of your ass where he’d spanked you, almost soothing now, before giving one last firm squeeze.
“Answer me,” he said quietly, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“…No,” you breathed, voice hoarse and shaky. “I don’t.”
He hummed, clearly pleased. He finally pulled out slowly, watching with dark eyes as a thick trail of his cum dripped from your abused hole onto the floor. The sight made him groan softly.
“Fuck, that’s a pretty sight,” he muttered. He used two fingers to push some of the leaking cum back inside you, then straightened your skirt with surprising care.
Toji helped you stand on shaky legs, turning you to face him. He cupped your jaw with one hand, thumb brushing your flushed cheek as he studied your expression — eyes glassy, lips swollen, hair messy.
“You’re going to feel me for the rest of the day,” he said, voice low. “Every step. Every time you move. I want you thinking about who fucked you over this counter.”
He leaned in and kissed you — slower this time, but still deep and possessive. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours for a brief second.
“Clean yourself up a little,” he told you, pressing one last kiss to your temple. “We’ve still got half a day left.”
Toji stepped back, tucking himself away and adjusting his apron like nothing had happened, though the dark, satisfied glint in his eyes remained.
You stood there on unsteady legs, heart still racing, feeling the unmistakable warmth of his cum slowly leaking down your inner thighs.
And somehow, you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain.
a/n: aren't the old hags kinda iconic? lmk what you think and if you'd be interested in a part two! likes and reblogs appreciated!!
firefighter!Toji gets injured on the job and suddenly finds himself at your mercy
Toji had suffered a concussion and a fracture to his right leg while saving two people from a burning building, and somehow, being put on bed rest was the worst thing that could’ve happened to him.
You walked in from a quick grocery run to find him halfway across the living room, crutches barely holding him up while he dragged himself toward the couch making you nearly drop every bag on the floor “Toji!”
He looked up, completely and infiruatingly unbothered “What are you doing?” You grabbed his arm before he could take another limping step “You’re not supposed to be walking around!”
“Sick of the bedroom, wanted the couch” he said, like that was more than a reasonable explanation.
“Oh my God, you’re so damn hardheaded” You guided him the rest of the way to the couch, where he dropped down with a satisfied exhale. His injured leg stretched across the cushions while the other hung off the side, and you immediately adjusted the blanket over him.
“Did you take your afternoon meds? Does your leg hurt? You were walking on it—”
“Yeah, yeah, I took ’em” Toji leaned back against the armrest, far too entertained by your concern. The fractured leg barely registered as more than an inconvenience to him. To you, it had been the worst phone call of your life.
He still teased you about crying all over his hospital bed that day, unable to understand why you were so upset when he’d survived just fine.
“More importantly, what time you picking up the brat from judo?” he asked, hand settling on your thigh out of nowhere.
You looked at him sideways “Around five. Why…?”
“Why” he repeated, like the question amused him. His hands moved to your waist, and before you could react, he was pulling you down onto the couch with him, maneuvering you between his legs with too much ease for an injured man “you been treating me like a porcelain doll for weeks” he said, grinning up at you “I broke my leg, the rest works just fine”
“Toji, the doctor said–” You began but he cut you off with a scuff
“Just say you don’t wanna put in the work” The grin didn’t waver “Wouldn’t expect much else from a pillow princess anyway”
You knew better than to fall for his provocations, but this was just too much, even for you.
And Toji couldn’t have possibly anticipated such a complete 180 from you. His doting personal nurse from just a few hours ago now had him shaking, face flushed and twisted into a mix of pleasure and frustration “Fucking hell… ha—I can’t” he blurted out in that rough, raspy voice of his.
Your grip on his aching cock loosened slightly so as not to push him over the edge just yet “You need to hold it in a little longer. Come on, you can do it” you cooed, cruelly stroking his twitching dick nice and slow, relishing the thick string of precum that dripped onto his stomach.
“I told you I can’t, woman!” he groaned, his voice breaking. He immediately regretted raising his voice when he felt your thumb glide along one of his veins before pressing against his urethral opening “B-baby, wait… if you press there—ngh!”
His head shot back when you applied more pressure to the sensitive spot, his words catching in his throat as his eyes widened at the strange sensation “Oh, now it’s baby, huh?” you teased, leaning in until your lips brushed against his neck. “You wanna cum that badly?” Toji had never nodded faster in his life.
You hummed, pulling back to get a better look at him. God, he looked delicious. His cheeks and ears were flushed a pretty shade of pink, eyes glossy, lips trembling “You sure? Use your words” You grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at you.
“Fuck! Please, okay?” he gasped “I wanna cum” The words clearly burned on the way out, but what other choice did he have?
“Alright then, since you asked so nicely" You could see the relief wash over his face immediately. Poor thing had no idea what was waiting for him.
Toji was lightheaded by now, incoherent words and shameless moans slipping freely from his mouth. His calloused hands gripped at your thighs in a desperate attempt to slow you down as you continued bouncing on his oversensitive cock, warm cunt hugging him so tightly like you were trying to milk him dry, which you were “Ah—I can’t! Fuck! Fuck!” he cried, feeling himself cum again, filling you up for the third time now.
“Wow…your loads aren’t getting any smaller” you breathed, readjusting yourself as you leaned against his chest “you’re real pretty like this, you know?" You grinned, but Toji didn’t seem interested in compliments at the moment.
“s'nough… can’t…” he managed between quick breaths, eyes dropping to where the two of you were connected, his pelvis coated in your juices and his cum “You said you wanted to cum, didn’t you?” you reminded him.
Toji cursed himself for not seeing through your little scheme sooner. As soon as this leg healed, he was definitely getting payback. Tenfold.
But for now, you were going to enjoy hearing that cocky asshole beg again and again until you overstimulated that stubbornness out of him.
you're bending down to pick something up? he's right behind you smacking your ass with a semi already poking from his boxers. you're stretching your arms out & he gets a peak of your belly? he's squeezing your plump skin & practically humping your sides. you're just on your phone? yeah, he's pouncing on you & groaning against your ear about how sexy you look & you can feel the tent growing in his shorts.
though one thing that turns him on more than anything is when you let out those little, cute moans of yours. and they're never meant to be sexual. it's just those ones that come out when you're stretching sometimes, or when you're snuggling up against his broad chest & you let out a pretty little sigh. oh, don't even get him started when you whine & complain about something — those soft, sweet noises almost makes him burst.
you're cuddling him when you feel his large palm snaking down to your ass cheeks & just as you expect, he gives it a harsh smack! "ouchhhh~!" you whine, looking up at him with that adorable frown & pout on your face.
oh, that sound is just music to his ears.
"i'm hard now." he says. no shame. just palming himself through his boxer shorts as he squeezes your ass again.
". . that's all it took? such a perv." you（gently）slap his cheek, rolling your eyes at the fact that your boyfriend has no shame about this.
"what can i say?" he purrs, rolling you on to your back & going on top of you, his chubbed up length rubbing up against your thighs. his eyes rake over your sweet body, the scar on his lip curling up into that infamous smug smirk of his. "i just can't resist anything you do. and when you sound that pretty? yeah, can't blame a guy for acting this way."
you can't help rolling your eyes again . . & you kinda hate yourself that your panties are soaked from toji's 'gross' behaviour (¬_¬") ！
୨୧ — You knew exactly what game you were playing- the sideway glances, brushes against Sukuna's thigh at breakfast, the way you bent over in that flimsy excuse for a skirt, ass practically begging for his handprint.
The final straw was the coffee shop, it had been calculated, deliberate- the way you'd pressed your tits against the counter, the sultry drop in your voice as you addressed the young barista who always served you. Sukuna stood rigid beside you, one massive hand wrapped around your daughter's tiny fingers, watching with murderous intensity as you let your fingers caress the barista's wrist like a fucking promise.
“Awh, you're wonderful,” you'd purred, “you always make the best coffee. I don't know how you do it.”
The barista had flushed, clearly imagining things he had no right to think about... Clearly oblivious to the death sentence being written in the crimson eyes boring into his skull.
Sukuna's hand had tightened around his daughter's, not enough to hurt -he was always careful with her- but enough that had her squeezing back with all her might. She had looked up at her father, giggling, “Papa doesn't like that man,” she'd announced plainly, loud enough for nearby customers to hear, “His face gets all scary when mama talks to him.”
Sukuna's lip had twitched, the barest hint of approval at his daughter's observation. He'd crouched down to her level, eyes softening just for her as they always did, “Smart girl,” he'd murmured, ruffling her hair gently.
Two fucking days without him- two days of him handling “business” that left him coming home with blood under his fingernails. Two days of an empty bed and pent up need that had you resorting to these dangerous games.
Now, with your daughter finally asleep, you hear him stalking down the hall. You're in the bathroom, dressed in nothing but his white t-shirt, bent over the counter in a pose that's anything but innocent. Pretending to pluck your eyebrows.
The bathroom door whumps against the wall hard enough to rattle the medicine cabinet. You freeze, tweezers hovering near your eyebrow. In the fog streaked mirror, his reflection looms like a nightmare carved from granite- jaw clenched, veins snaking down his neck. “Think you're fucking clever, don't you?” His voice is dangerously soft, “Teasing me in front of our own kid, knowing i wouldn't act up in front of her.”
“I don't know what you're talking abou-“
The lie earns you exactly what you wanted- one massive arm snaking around your neck in a controlled chokehold. His other hand grips your hip hard enough to bruise, yanking you back against his rigid cock, “You've been asking for it since I got back. Teasing me, flaunting yourself at that pathetic barista.”
“Two days,” you gasp, “You left me alone for two days.”
His laugh is a dark thing against your neck, “So you decide to pull this shit?”
“Y-yes,” you managed, voice breathy and tight as his chokehold tightened fractionally, enough to make your vision blur, enough to remind you of his absolute control over your body in this moment.
“You know there are better ways to get my attention than flirting with some worthless shit who makes coffee for a living,” he growled, his free hand moving to your breast, squeezing roughly through your shirt. “Ways that don't make me want to drag you out of a public place by your hair.”
“This is s'more fun,” you gasped as his fingers found your nipple.
Sukuna's eyes darkened dangerously in the bathroom mirror, “Fun?” he growled, his other arm snaked around your neck in a vicious headlock, his tattooed bicep crushing against your throat as he twisted your nipple between his fingers, “You think playing with fire is fun, woman?”
His free hand abandoned your breast, dropping to yank up the t-shirt -his t-shirt- that barely covered your ass. He exposed your bare cunt to the cool bathroom air, your puffy pussy lips already drenched with your slick.
“No panties,” he observed, voice deadly calm, “Walking around my house, taking care of my kid, dressed like a fucking whore with your cunt ready to be split open on my cock.”
His large hand came down on your ass with a resounding crack. “Two days,” he mocked, delivering another sharp slap, “Two fucking days handling business, and you act like a bitch in heat the minute I'm back, practically drooling over some coffee boy's dick...”
“I- I missed you,” you admitted breathlessly, grinding your ass back against his hardening bulge.
“Missed me?” Another devastating smack landed, “Or missed getting your needy cunt stuffed full of my cock?”
His fingers roughly parted your folds, finding you embarrassingly wet, “Fucking soaked,” he hissed, plunging two fingers knuckle-deep without warning, "Look at you dripping down your thighs just from being manhandled. What would that barista think seeing what a desperate cumslut you really are?”
Your walls clenched around his digits at the degradation, pussy practically weeping as he fingerfucked you just got you liked it. “P-lease,” you mewled, “m’need-”
“Please what, whore?” he demanded, curling his fingers to hit that spongy spot inside that made your knees buckle. “Please wreck your pussy? Please put you in your fucking place? Please remind you who this cunt belongs to?”
“Yes!” you sobbed, grinding shamelessly against his hand, “All -ohfuck- all of it!”
Sukuna's arm tightened around your throat, cutting off just enough air to make you lightheaded before releasing you only to fist your hair instead, wrenching your head back at a vicious angle.
“On your knees,” he ordered as he withdrew his fingers to unbuckle his belt.
You dropped to the cold tile without hesitation, spinning to face him as he pulled out his cock- thick as your wrist, veined, the swollen head already leaking precum. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of it.
“This what you been thinking about while I’ve been away?” he asked, fisting his length and slapping it across your cheek, smearing his precum on your skin. “This fat cock that you'd risk pissing me off for?”
“Always,” you admitted shamelessly, eyes locked on his, tongue darting out to taste him.
“Show me,” he demanded, pressing his cockhead against your lips, “Show me how much youve missed this- missed me…”
You parted your mouth obediently, taking him as deep as you could in one gulp. His fist tightened in your hair, holding you in place as your throat convulsed around his girth.
“Fuck,” he grunted, the first crack in his control, “Look at you choking yourself on my cock like you were born for it. World’s prettiest mom on her knees acting like a whore on a corner.”
Tears streamed down your face as you struggled with his size- even after all these years you still weren’t used to his sheer size… but you didn't pull back. Instead you hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard while working your tongue against the thick vein on the underside. Knowing it would drive him insane and earn you a roses blush on his face~.
“That's it,” he praised, mouth hung open as he pants, “Use that pretty mouth for what it's good for.”
His hips began moving, small thrusts that gradually deepened until he was fucking your face, watching your makeup run and spit drip down your chin. You moaned around him, the vibrations making his thighs shake as he hits the back of your throat. His whole idea was to punish that mouth of yours for running it earlier, but he can’t stop thinking about fucking you- spilling inside you filling your womb… Yeah, he needed that. Now.
“Get up,” he ordered, yanking out suddenly, leaving you gasping and drooling- hauling you to your feet by your hair.
Before you could breathe, he bent you over the counter again, shoving your face against the cool surface. The position forcing your ass high, completely exposed and vulnerable for him to use you as he pleases.
“Look at yourself,” he commanded, one hand gripping your neck to pin you down.
You looked into the mirror best you could- flushed cheeks, mascara streaked, lips swollen and glistening. Behind you, Sukuna's tattooed form dominated like some ancient war god claiming his sacrifice.
“Who owns this pussy?” he asked, his cockhead pressing against your entrance but not entering.
“You do,” you gasped, trying to push back only to be held firmly in place, “Only you, Sukuna. No one else.”
“And who's the only one who gets to wreck it?” he continued, rubbing his length through your syrupy folds without giving you what you and he needed.
“You,” you repeated desperately, “Sukuna, Please- I need your cock inside me! I’m so sorr-“
“Not until you admit what a manipulative cocktease you've been today,” he snarled, delivering another spank to your reddened ass.
“I teased you!!! I teased you on purpose because I missed this- flirted with him to make you jealous-“
A smile curved his lips, “At least you're honest” he murmured, positioning himself again, “Now take what you've been begging for.”
He slammed into you with one thrust, splitting you open on his cock. The brutal stretch tore a scream from your throat that echoed off the walls. Sukuna's arm immediately locked around your neck in another chokehold.
“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed against your ear, his bicep crushing your windpipe, “Unless you want to wake our daughter and explain why mommy's getting her brains fucked out...”
When another moan escaped your lips, his arm tightened around your neck viciously, cutting off your air until black spots danced in your vision and your struggles grew weak.
“I said quiet,” he growled, his other hand gripped your hip with bruising force as he maintained his punishing rhythm.
His pace was relentless, each stroke hitting your cervix and that spongy spot inside that had your eyes rolling back. Every time you got too loud his arm flexed around your throat until your legs started to buckle.
“Gonna flood this tight cunt-,” he muttered, pace becoming erratic- his cock dragging against your walls, rubbing your gummy insides raw, “put another baby in your womb so that barista knows exactly who you spread your legs for.”
The image sent you hurtling toward the edge- you pregnant again, belly swollen with his child, undeniably his in every way possible.
“Yes-“ you agreed in the barest whisper, “d-do it, wan’it- want you to put another in me-“
His free hand found your clit, circling it until a frothy white mess of your cream formed around his base as he destroyed you.
“Come on my cock,” he ordered, his arm loosening around your throat.
It hits like a fuse- white noise, bright shards behind your eyelids, knees threatening to give. You don’t make a sound, not this time, your lips part on a silent cry, the mirror catching the moment you dissolve, your body seizing and fluttering against him until you’re boneless, breathless, trembling.
He follows a heartbeat later, the fluttering of your walls triggering his release- hot spurts of cum flooding your womb as he buried himself impossibly deep… driving you into the counter with one final, possessive grind. “Fuck-“ he groaned, as his body covered yours completely, his arm still locked around your throat, his breathing ragged…
For several long moments, neither of you moved, the only sounds your ragged breathing and the distant hum of the building's heating system. Finally, Sukuna straightened, carefully withdrawing before turning you to face him.
To your surprise, there was something almost tender in his expression now, the earlier fury burned away by release. One large hand came up to cup your face, thumb gently wiping away a tear you hadn't even realized had fallen.
“You don't need to pull that shit to get my attention,” he said quietly, crimson eyes searching yours. “I know two days is too long. I'll figure something out.”
The sudden vulnerability in his admission caught you off guard. This was the side of Sukuna no one ever saw- the man beneath the monster, capable of genuine emotion despite his best efforts to suppress it.
“I missed you,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. “Not just... this. You.”
Something softened in his gaze, “Could have just said that instead of eye fucking some random barista in front of our brat.”
A small smile curved your lips, “But then I wouldn't have gotten bent over the bathroom counter.”
Sukuna snorted, but there was amusement in his eyes now, “Manipulative little thing, aren't you?”
“I learned from the best,” you countered with a playful wink, wrapping your arms around his neck.
He lifted you with ease, carrying you out of the bathroom toward the bedroom. To your surprise, he didn't head straight for the bed, but made a detour down the hall, pushing open your daughter’s door with his foot.
The nightlight cast a soft glow over your daughter's sleeping form, her tiny chest rising and falling with peaceful breaths, one small hand clutching the stuffed duck Sukuna had won for her at a festival last summer.
Sukuna stood in the doorway, still holding you against his chest, something unreadable in his expression as he watched over his little girl.
“You really meant it?” he finally asked, voice barely audible, “About another one?”
The hesitation in his tone -so at odds with his usual confidence- made your heart skip a beat.
“Yes,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “i want that- another baby with you… Have for a while now, but… You and her have something so precious.”
Relief and satisfaction flickered across his face before he schooled his expression back to its usual impassive mask. “Good,” he said simply, pulling her door closed again before carrying you to your bedroom. “Because I wasn’t kidding about going back and showing that punk who knocked you up.”
Tw omegaverse but Concept of lonely old man alpha sukuna who has no game at all bc hes overly awkward and suffers from stoicism when it comes to romance but his lust is still at level 3000
toji fushiguro sometimes forgets to be gentle with you in bed, and ends up manhandling you.
toji fushiguro oftentimes forgets his strengths when he’s inside of you. too intoxicated in the pleasure of just how warm, and soft your walls tighten around him. how beautiful you looked with your back arched with arms hugging the pillow beneath you as you’re crying into feathered pillow.
every moan, every whimper, every choke was enough to make toji go absolutely feral. “god… damn, luv.” he huffs, voice laced in unrestrained lust as he tightens the grip on waist — his nails digging moon-shaped crescents into your flesh, earning a mantra of pleas as he feeds your pussy the meanest, cruelest thrusts.
the way he slams you against him, attempting to bury himself deeper inside you has you subconsciously running away. you feel him deep inside you, it’s almost too much before he’s dragging you back down his cock.
“c’mon…” he lets out a low groan, feeling the way your pussy chokes up around him. he’d be lying to himself if he said he hated whenever you’d run from the way he fucks you… it unlocks something carnal inside him, nothing shy of animalistic. “y’know better than that don’t you, girl?” his words drowned in a condescending manner, ducking to whisper against the shell of your ear as you whine.
though whining isn’t enough to get by him — no, toji makes you use your words. overstimulated, or not. too shy, or not — he’s making you say it pretty for him. he grinds his hips deeper than before, and you can feel it in your stomach as he presses more while earning a few inaudible noises from you.
plush lips parting, you open your mouth. “yes. i k-know, m—mhmgh!” you bite down your bottom lip as toji begins thrusting into you. the weight of his thrusts is enough to knock you forward, but his grip pins you in place. “yeah?” he murmurs, gliding his tongue across his upper row of teeth.
there’s absolutely no doubt that toji’s completely unaware of just how fragile you are underneath him. you’re barely even able to utter out a single word before there’s a moan ripping through your throat. his body is running solely on endorphins and dopamine, clouding his mind with nothing but a devotion of lust because he a greedy man who just needs more.
one of his calloused hands snakes up your spine to grab the back of your neck, rough and mean as you gasp out a cry.
“s’fine. toji knows exactly what to do with fussy girls like you, darlin’.”he rasps, low enough for your body to shudder.
✮ sukuna married your mother just to be closer to you.
cw: stepcest
stepdaddy!sukuna first saw you when he stayed in another country for a business trip. you swam in the pool, laughed with your head back, and water ran down your neck. he couldn't take his eyes off you, your tiny swimsuit barely covered anything: your ass literally hung out, and wet hair stuck to your neck, showing a line he immediately wanted to lick.
stepdaddy!sukuna knew you were too young for him. but he didn't care about that, he only worried that his business and reputation wouldn't forgive it. so the very next day, he found your mother — a lonely, miserable woman who was used to men being a disappointment. sukuna was perfectly polite, charming, and scary patient. three weeks later, they moved in together.
stepdaddy!sukuna quickly realized your mom was always annoyed with you. she constantly tried to put you down, and you two fought all the time. she wanted to feel young and envied your youth with almost animal-like spite. plus, she saw your father in you — the man she couldn't get along with — and took that pain out on you.
stepdaddy!sukuna never touched your mother with real passion. for him, she was just a ticket into your life: a pass to family dinners, a way to know your schedule, and a chance to buy a house across the street from your college.
stepdaddy!sukuna rushed the wedding to finally get closer to you — to see you every day. you officially met at a dinner where he invited you and your mom to "get closer as a family." but you had no idea he knew everything about you and followed you for much longer than you could imagine.
stepdaddy!sukuna insisted you went on the honeymoon with them after the wedding. he said he worried about your safety and didn't want to leave you alone for so long. when your mother hissed after another fight that she couldn't even get rid of you on her honeymoon, sukuna cancelled all plans, saying he didn't want to spend his time like that.
stepdaddy!sukuna let his touches linger on you much longer than was decent. whether it was your fingers when he handed you a plate, or your back when he gave you a "fatherly" hug. walking past you in a narrow hallway, he put his hand on your waist to let you through — and kept it there for an extra second, squeezing a bit harder than necessary. he stood behind you when you were at the window, leaned close to your ear to ask something, and hit your neck with hot breath that made your knees weak.
stepdaddy!sukuna jerked off in the shower or his home office, thinking about how you would look on his dick. how you would ride him while your perfect tits bounced in front of his face, and he sucked them while his huge cock tore your sweet pussy apart from the inside. he came faster than ever in his life.
stepdaddy!sukuna came home early one day and heard weird noises from your room. when he walked up to the door, your sweet moans and wet splashing sounds reached him. he froze, already taking off his belt to masturbate with you right there by the door, when he suddenly heard his name. "sukuna... hmm! daddy... please..." in that moment, he realized the fish jumped right on the hook.
stepdaddy!sukuna waited until your mother was out of the house. he walked up behind you while you made tea in the kitchen. you felt his strong body press against your back, his hands landed on your waist, and his lips leaned to your ear. "someone was way too loud yesterday." you froze, a blush creeping up your neck. "i didn't..." you started, but couldn't finish: he pushed his hips forward, pressing into you, and you let out a moan. "my girl needs her daddy?" you shook your head, whispering that it was wrong, but he thrust his hips again, making you automatically press your ass against his crotch. you felt his heavy, hard cock through the expensive fabric of his pants and whined pitifully. he rubbed his hips against your short shorts, feeling the soft meat of your ass, and groaned low. "don't worry, baby. daddy needs his little girl just as much as she needs him."
you two started rubbing against each other, he took your chin, turned your head, and kissed you — hungry, dirty, and wet. his other hand slid inside your shorts. his fingers immediately found your clit and started rolling it, making you press your ass into him even harder. his mouth ate yours, and your chins glistened with spit. you came loud, shaking right on his fingers, and he came in his pants like a damn teenager — just from rubbing against you.
stepdaddy!sukuna came to your bedroom every night after that day while your mother slept. he got into your bed, and you already lay there naked, whining with impatience. "such a dirty little girl — waitin' for her stepfather like this, huh?" you just nodded aggressively, pulling him by the neck because you needed him. "i need u, daddy," you whispered, and he groaned, pressing into your lips. "i know, my baby. daddy needs u too. so much." he carefully entered you, remembering that his girl was still too sensitive — despite how many times he'd already been inside you. "there we go. missed my perfect little girl so much... mmhx... wanted this for so long." you moaned and scratched his back while his cock hammered into you like crazy. "this sweet pussy... these perfect tits... mine. all mine. everythin' belongs to daddy. no one else." he didn't stop until you came on his cock at least twice, then he filled you up with hot, thick seed.
stepdaddy!sukuna fucked you in every possible place, not scared that you would get caught. he knew your schedule by heart and picked you up from college in a fully tinted car. on the back seat, he sat you on his cock. "there u go, babe. daddy missed this sweet pussy. did u miss me?" you nodded, kissing his wet lips. your panties were pushed aside, his huge hands squeezed your cheeks, and he hammered into you with primal speed. "missed u so much, daddy... couldn't go without u... hnngh!" you already came, but he didn't stop until you turned into a messy whining heap, only able to moan his name. "yeah? couldn't live without daddy's cock?" you squeezed him inside you, your mascara ran, and tears flowed down your cheeks. "fuck, yeah... that's it, my little girl. squeeze my cock like that, it's all yours."
stepdaddy!sukuna refused when your mother called him on a business trip. they fought, and she left alone, leaving you two for a whole week. he planned to use that time to the max. you fucked almost every hour. "that's it. come on daddy's cock. ruin it, baby." you started with the morning shower, where he fucked you in the air, lifting you up and sliding you onto his hard dick. "such a perfect girl for daddy... made for me." you ended on the living room couch, when he buried his face deep in your pussy. "mmmnh... look at this little swollen clit... wanna eat it." he started sucking so hard, moving his fingers inside you, that you arched your hips right to his face. "ha...ah! daddy! i'm gonna cum! i'm cummin', i'm cummin', i'm cummin'!" he pressed even harder. "go on, my little girl... cum right on daddy's face... let me taste it." and you made a mess of his face, shaking and screaming.
stepdaddy!sukuna ignored your mother's calls when he was on his own business trip. "i'm busy," he snapped and immediately called you. "babe, show me how wet u are. c'mon, lower the camera a bit." you did what he told you: lowered the phone to your wide-spread legs, to your wet, glistening pussy that was already soaking for him. he groaned, pulled down his pants, freeing his hard cock, and held the phone with one hand while the other wrapped your panties — which he stole last week — around the shaft. "shove three fingers in, babe. that'll make u feel closer to daddy." he hammered into his fist, growling low when he saw your thighs shaking on the screen. "it's not enough, daddy... it's not u... i want u... can't come..." you whined, because your three fingers didn't give even half the feeling his two did. you definitely got greedy. "i know baby, i know. i wanna be there too. wanna feel your tight pussy squeeze around me. i want my little girl to make a mess on me." you almost cried, you needed him so bad. "come home faster, please... nngh-h! i can't without u... i miss u." he spilled into his fist with a hoarse groan, his hips twitching. "i miss u too, my baby. i promise i'm gonna fuck u on every inch of house when i get back."
note. dk how to feel abt this lol…. art by naomiiocha
after having your baby, your body changed drastically. especially in your breasts. they were all swell and full of milk now. causing stained clothes and discomfort.
satoru became more attentive then he’s ever been. always making sure that you and the baby are okay. but one day, when you and satoru were together, milk started to leak through the front of your dress…
and that awakened something deep inside of him.
he didn’t know what came over him. whenever he’d catch you breastfeeding your son, this weird feeling of jealousy would twist in his stomach. it didn’t help how the little guy looked just like him either!
one day, when you were out and asked him to feed the baby, he opened the fridge and stared at it like he struck gold. all of the baby bottles filled with the milk that you pumped out, practically winking at him to have a taste… just one little sip.
so he did. after feeding and burping him, he reached for another bottle absentmindedly. the moment he took a sip of the liquid, his eyes widened.
the flavor was immaculate, he never tasted anything like this before. it was so creamy and sweet—but not sickly sweet. it was pretty mild. honestly, it might’ve been one of the best things he’d ever had.
it might even be better than the kikufuku mochi he was always obsessed with.
before he knew it, the bottle was empty. he dragged his tongue over his lips, catching the last bit with no shame whatsoever. not only did it taste good, but it came from from your body? his wife’s bodily fluids?! it aroused him so much…
after that, bottles started disappearing. you noticed it pretty quickly. each time you checked the fridge, there was less and less. the baby was pissed too! making everything more weird. eventually, you asked satoru if he had any idea what’s been happening to them, and all he did was shrug. “i don’t know, baby. maybe we’re overfeeding him?”
one night, after the baby had finally fallen asleep, you stayed up. complaining about how your breasts were too full and achy. they needed to be drained.
to satoru, this was the perfect opportunity. he offered to help you drain some of it out. and of course, as his wife, you were more than welcome to have your husband take care of you.
but what you didn’t know was that you were making his peculiar fantasies finally come to life…
“mm—toru..! don’t suck too hard. that hurts..” you muttered. currently, your beloved husband was too busy. his soft lips cupped around one of your nipples while his hands fondled both your breasts.
“sorry, baby. can’t help it,” he said, voice muffled. “tastes sooo good. like honey nut cheerios… and almond,” he was in absolute bliss and his dick wasn’t even inside you. tasting it from the bottle was one thing, but sucking it straight out of your fat tits? now that was a whole new experience.
his white lashes fluttered, tongue swirling around the sensitive nub. the stimulation made more milk to spew out into his mouth. he moaned lowly when the liquid hit his tongue.
you mewled softly as he continued to massage your sore breasts, milk seeping between his fingers. your hand rested on your his head, scratching his scalp gently. he kept squeezing you, forcing more and more milk to spray out. he lapped it all up like a little kitten, some of it even dripping down his chin.
“fuck, toru. you’re so disgustinggg…” you moaned, looking at him with half-lidded eyes.
he laughed breathlessly. “only for you,” he cooed. he began to tease your nipples by pinching them and giving them light flicks with his tongue. he rubbed the leaked milk around your areola with his fingers before licking it off with a long stripe. the relief was euphoric. you bit your lip, and your pussy that was already soaked gushed more slick.
he put both nipples in his drooling mouth and squeezed your breasts roughly together, encouraging more of the rich sweetness out of you for him to greedily drink down. “mmph.. so fucking sweet… my sweet girl,” he groaned.
“o-ohhh..! s-satoruuu,” you whined underneath him. shuddering as you felt his dick rub up and down your clothed folds. basically dry humping you.
“shhh… m’ right here. just let daddy take care of you, kay? m’ almost done,” he murmured against your skin. a whimper fell out of your trembling lips. he continued his ministrations until he worked all the firmness from your tits, leaving them soft and doughy as they should be.
when he was done, he let go of your nipples with a small pop! “feels better, hm?” he asked, bringing his wet fingers to his mouth, sucking the sticky liquid off.
“mhmm, yes… t-thank you,” you said shyly, still trembling. slick puddling in your panties from how good he treated you. he let out a low chuckle and leaned in, giving you a soft kiss. you could taste the nectarous liquid on his tongue when he slipped it past your lips.
“we should start doing this more often… oh, honey,” he started, looking at the ginormous damp spot between your thighs. there’s no way that he’s going to sleep without fucking you now. “guess i have something else to help you with.”
@chosayi 2026 ( ummm… would you say that you are… kinky?? )
cw: sexual content, reader fucks herself on stream
camgirl!reader and all the men who follow you......
6eyez4you who is your highest paying subscriber. any time you hop on, whether that's just to talk to your chat or to sink onto an 12 inch dildo, he's there paying you enough to cover rent for the next 12 months. he always sends a flirty message, something like "hope this gets you 10x wetter ;)" or "send me the used panties you buy with this, cutie." it never fails to make you jaw drop when you see how much he spends on you, and his favorite part is when you thank him with your voice all high and whiny.
suguwatches is always pushing you to your limits. just when you feel you've orgasmed too many times, he's there to encourage you. "just one more baby, for all of us." and of course, you listen. ever so supportive, even though you don't know who he is, you find comfort in reading his sweet messages. no matter what request he sends, you always are willing to do it. that "great job sweetheart" feels that much better every time.
then you have your_hitman33 who never fails to make you blush. every time he logs on, he leaves the dirtiest comments, saying thiings like "of course the slut likes the biggest toy" and "id fuck you so hard baby." never afraid to say what's on his mind, his demeaning words make you feel that much more turned on. you still remember that one time you did a self-bondage stream, and he said "im gonna find you and fuck the shit out of you." even though you knew he wouldn't come, you've been chasing that rush of fear ever since.
horny_salaryman has to be the one you want to marry the most, though. he tunes in and pays you a hefty $300 every time, always commenting on your beauty. "You look like an angel today." when you were too tired to do your makeup, "I love your smile, beautiful." when you've just woken up. while the others get your pussy wetter, he always seems to make your face warm and your belly get butterflies, kind praise when others complain about your appearance.
but the one you seem to think about the most is ryossecret_. he only joins every now and again, and has only left a few comments. whenever you see his name show up in chat a feeling of insecurity rushes over you, like you need to perform more, entertain him. he only left one comment and that was "You look good for breeding.", but aside from that he just watches. that is, until he dms you asking if you want to collab.............
i sincerely apologize for what you are about to read
cw: mdni, dubcon(?), portal pocket pussy, unintentional cheating, male infertility, creampie, take the phone away from me pls
jin itadori gifts his asshole twin brother a pocket pussy thinking it'll help with his anger issues. sukuna finds it fucking dumb yet on one desperate night when he's got no fling to call since he pissed them all off and he's at his brother's house, he ends up putting the thing to use.
it's ridiculous really, his tatted face heating in embarrassment when he licks at the pearly little clit of the plush pussy that's tarty sweet and warm against his tongue. toy or not, he can't fucking help that he's a munch, dipping his hot, wet muscle into the fluttering hole, slathering it in his saliva as he groans at the slick oozing onto his awaiting tastebuds. when it swells and clamps down on his swirling tongue, he tips his head back, adam's apple bobbing as his tongue is coated with the dripping cum.
now that his thirst is temporarily satiated, he shucks off his jeans, cock smacking against his abdomen that flinches and bunches as the thick, dark-veined shaft lolls against it heavily. he pumps it in his fist a few times then slaps his weeping tip against the clit, smirking when it jumps. then he eases it inside the sopping cunt, jaw slack and brows knit as he watches the hole stretch wide around his girth, swallowing him slow and snug.
he can hardly hold himself back from working the squelching, drooling pussy up and down his cock, slobbering the pulsing length of it in tangy, honeyed juices that foam around his base in a creamy ring as lazy grunts and slurring groans spill from his mouth and into the quiet guest room.
meanwhile, back at the ranch aka his brother's bedroom, his wife who absolutely hates sukuna because he's been nothing but trouble and stressing out your husband for as long as you've known is gasping and moaning high-pitched, fucked-out sounds as a thick cock—that definitely doesn't belong to your husband who can't fuck you since your pussy is already filled—pounds into you relentlessly.
“ah-ahh-hah, fuck, fuck, fuck, it's too much,” you whimper, sweat beading on your forehead, expression pained from the sheer overload of pleasure wracking through your system. legs kicking out, your writhe and squirming to get away from whoever is fucking you but you just can't—
jin is frazzled, glasses askew as he runs his hands through his touseled, coral tufts that are already in disarray as he tries to figure out how the fuck this is happening. it makes no sense. the pocket pussy linked to yours is tucked away in his nightstand, unused. he's saving it for his business trip in a few weeks so how—
“oh my god, it's so big, i can't, i can't,” you cry out, tears glittering as they run down your cheeks, sobs ripping from your throat as you fall back onto the bedding. “jin, do something, please.”
a strangled noise leaves your distressed husband. “i'm sorry baby, i don't know how this could be possible. maybe they mixed it up at the shop and made it a portal pussy or something.”
you hardly hear him, feeling the cock dragging within you throb and kick, your eyes knocking into the back of your skull. “shitttttt, he's gonna come inside. he's coming, he's—angghhh!”
the man you married watches in horror as your pussy spasms and convulses, you coming with the stranger before thick, creamy cum drizzled out of your abused cunt in syrupy streams as you pant and sigh, bones melting.
a loud, belly-deep groan sounds from the other end of the house and your husband stills, realisation dawning him like a bucket of ice water dousing him on a below zero day.
shit, shit, shit! that's right—he gave the tatted, dickhead version of him a pocket pussy as a gag gift. he was sure the man would scoff and chuck it in the trash but not only did he just use it—jin accidentally swapped his own with his twin!
his wife would fucking murder him if she found out.
(though this may work in his favor because you both have been trying to have a baby only to be told that jin is infertile by a few doctors and since sukuna is basically him, maybe he can knock you up. your husband won't mind, he wants a baby with you bad—)
as your husband slowly descends into a spiral of madness, you're seeing stars, boneless and blissful as you stare at the ceiling after what might have been the best sex of your life.
don't get you wrong, sex with your husband is good, really good. but he's so gentle, aggravatingly gentle. sweet and slow, dragging out the act as if there's no destination in mind which would be satiating if you weren't a lustful vixen who enjoyed being manhandled and fucked hard. sometimes he doesn't even make you cum, your cunt squeezes as if you did orgasm but it's as anticlimactic as an interrupted sneeze or cut-off yawn.
so you shamefully hope that you never find out who actually has the pocket pussy and that they fuck you like that more often.
as for sukuna, he's found his new obsession, staring at the pocket pussy in his hand with starry, droopy eyes and a dopey, sleazy grin on his face.
blame @yenayaps for egging me on to post this travesty
“shit, baby… you feel so fucking good tonight,” toji groans low against your neck, his voice rough but full of reverence.
the room is dark, only the faint glow of the bedside lamp illuminating the curves of your bodies under the thick blanket. you’re on your back, legs wrapped loosely around his waist as he moves inside you with slow, deep, passionate strokes. every thrust is deliberate, dragging his thick cock along your walls in a way that makes your toes curl. his scarred chest presses flush against your breasts, skin hot and slightly damp with sweat.
toji’s face is buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin with every breath. one of his big hands cradles the back of your head while the other grips your hip, holding you right where he wants you. it’s not the usual rough, punishing fuck he loves to give you — tonight it’s slower, heavier, full of that deep, aching love only he can make you feel.
“toji…” you whimper softly, nails gently raking down his broad back. your walls flutter around his thick length, squeezing him every time he bottoms out. “so deep… feels so good…”
he groans, hips rolling in that perfect rhythm, grinding against your clit with every stroke. “that’s it, mama… just like that. let me love you properly.” his voice is gravelly, breath hot against your ear. “been thinking about this pussy all damn day.”
your orgasm has been building for what feels like forever — a slow, warm coil tightening deep in your belly. every drag of his cock pushes you closer, your thighs trembling around him, breath coming in soft, needy gasps.
you’re right there. so fucking close.
“toji— i’m— i’m gonna—” your voice cracks, back arching as the pleasure crests.
and then—
knock knock
“mama… papa…?”
megumi’s small, shaky voice cuts through the room like ice water.
both of you freeze instantly.
toji’s hips stop mid-thrust, his cock buried to the hilt inside you, throbbing angrily at the sudden denial. your orgasm dies right on the edge, leaving you painfully empty and frustrated, walls still fluttering desperately around him.
“fuck,” toji hisses under his breath, forehead dropping to your shoulder. his entire body is tense, muscles coiled tight with frustration.
you react faster than he does. you gently push at his chest and whisper, “quick, baby.”
toji pulls out with a quiet, wet sound, jaw clenched so hard you can hear his teeth grind. he rolls off you immediately, yanking the blanket up to cover both of you properly as you sit up and adjust your nightgown, making sure you’re fully clothed.
“come in, sweetie,” you call out softly, voice still a little breathy but warm and motherly.
the door creaks open.
megumi stands there in his little dinosaur pajamas, clutching his stuffed wolf to his chest. his eyes are red and puffy, fat tears rolling down his chubby cheeks. his bottom lip trembles as he looks at you.
“i had a bad dream…” he whispers, voice tiny and broken. “there was a monster… and it took you and papa away…”
your heart melts instantly. all the sexual frustration vanishes the second you see your baby crying. you open your arms wide.
“oh, my sweet boy… come here.”
megumi runs over and climbs onto the bed, burying his face in your chest. you wrap your arms around him tightly, rocking him gently, one hand stroking through his dark spiky hair.
“it’s okay, megumi. mama and papa are right here. no monsters are gonna take us, i promise,” you coo softly, pressing kisses to the top of his head. “you’re safe. we’re all safe.”
toji lies beside you, silent.
he’s burning.
his cock is still rock hard, throbbing painfully under the blanket, leaking against his stomach. every muscle in his body is tight with frustration. he had you right there — right on the fucking edge — and now he’s stuck watching you comfort your son while his balls ache and his dick twitches angrily for release.
he loves megumi. he really does. but right now? he wants to throw the kid back into his own room and bury himself back inside his wife until she’s crying his name.
instead, he forces a rough but gentle hand onto megumi’s back, rubbing slow circles.
“ain’t no monster tough enough to take your old man, kid,” toji mutters, voice low and strained. “go back to sleep. we’re right here.”
megumi sniffles and nods, but he doesn’t move. he curls tighter against your chest, small hands fisting your nightgown. you keep rocking him, humming softly, completely focused on soothing your son.
toji’s jaw clenches harder. he shifts under the blanket, trying to adjust his painful erection without drawing attention. every time you move to comfort megumi, your ass brushes against his thigh and it takes everything in him not to groan out loud.
minutes drag by.
megumi’s breathing eventually evens out, but he’s still clinging to you. you look over at toji with soft, apologetic eyes.
toji stares back.
his green eyes are dark, frustrated, almost predatory. the muscle in his jaw keeps ticking. he wants you so bad it hurts. he was so close to feeling you fall apart around him, to filling you up while you moaned his name so sweetly. now he’s stuck with blue balls and a hard-on that refuses to die down.
you mouth “i’m sorry” at him.
he doesn’t answer. just exhales sharply through his nose and looks away, staring at the ceiling like it personally offended him.
after another ten long minutes, megumi is finally deep asleep in your arms. you carefully lift him and carry him back to his room, tucking him in with extra blankets and his favorite wolf plush. you kiss his forehead softly and leave the nightlight on before closing the door gently.
the second you step back into your bedroom and close the door, toji is on you.
he grabs you by the waist, spins you around and pins you against the door, mouth crashing onto yours in a hungry, frustrated kiss. his hard cock presses insistently against your stomach through his sweatpants.
“you have no idea how fucking bad i need you right now,” he growls against your lips, voice thick with pent-up lust. “was so close to feeling you cum all over my cock… and then the kid shows up.”
his hands slide under your nightgown, gripping your ass hard as he grinds against you.
“toji— he might wake up again—” you whisper, but your body is already melting into him.
“then you better be quiet, mama,” he rasps, lifting you up and carrying you back to the bed. “because i’m not stopping until i’ve fucked all that frustration out.”
he drops you onto the mattress, yanking your nightgown up to your waist as he settles between your thighs again.
“now where were we?” he mutters darkly, lining his throbbing cock up with your still soaked entrance.
“round two starts now. and this time… no fucking interruptions.”
-
Ⓒfayelero all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !
𝜗℘ ˖ ࣪ . ˖˙ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you show your husband some affection, thinking you two are alone—only to be interrupted by your son.
tags. dad!toji x wife!reader. fluff, suggestive. mentions of toji having a dad bod & reader having a mom bod. reader gets called ‘princess/mama (by gumi)’
“tooooji,” you coo as you enter the kitchen. you’ve put megumi to bed—finally—and got the chance to spend some quality time with your dear husband. both of you deserve to rest after a hard day of work.
toji has been putting the dishes back in their designated spots whilst you were away. the dark-haired man turns his head to the side once he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist.
a small grin tugs at his lips, “missed me, princess?”
you roll your eyes. even if years have passed since your marriage, toji has not stopped using that specific nickname for you. he loves calling you ‘princess’, because that’s what you’ll always be to him. in his eyes, at least.
“mhm,” you decide to indulge him. you bury your face into his broad back, feeling the muscles he’s worked so hard on obtaining. after megumi was born, toji did let himself go for a bit, but that is a good sign.
it means he’s content with his life - this peaceful life that he’s settled down for with no regrets. no more being reckless, no more battling for money; he’s now got a family to come back home to after all.
“is the little brat asleep?” toji asks while putting the last dish away. he’s visibly enjoying your warm hands that have slid under his shirt. your skin is so soft to the touch compared to his.
you chuckle and nod to his question. “gumi’s sleeping like a baby,” you rub your husband’s stomach gently, feeling the little bumps of his fading abs. you’re loving his new body - just as much as toji loves yours.
toji turns around to face you, desperately needing to return the favor. he can’t get enough of being with you. his rough hands grab your waist and bring you closer against his body, until your chests are nearly touching. he lowers his head to your neck, “that means i can show my wife how much i love her, yeah?”
you shiver at how toji’s voice turns from soft and gentle to sexual and husky. big hands find their place on your tummy, massaging the loose skin with its stretch marks. you can hear your husband’s breath hitch. “fuck,” toji swallows his spit, his fingers moving to grasp your hips.
toji loves how your hips got wider after you’ve given birth to your child. every change in your body, whether big or small, is completely welcomed by him. your body has blessed toji with a son he loves and he’ll forever be grateful for that fact. the least he can do is take his time to appreciate you.
“so beautiful,” toji sighs as he leaves soft pecks on your neck and throat. his fingers are working their way down to your thighs and ass—not leaving a single patch of skin untouched. his lips eventually find yours and you melt into his embrace.
it’s getting heated and the tension is palpable. toji’s about to lift you into his arms when you catch a glimpse of a short figure in the doorway. your eyes widen and you immediately detach your lips from your husband’s.
toji quickly catches on and sighs. he cocks his head to the left, the sight of his toddler standing at the doorway coming into view. “damn kid,” he whispers, nearly pouting because of the interruption. you playfully slap his bicep—a warning to fix his potty mouth in front of megumi.
“h-hey, gumi,” you say with an awkward giggle, walking towards the child. you fix your shirt in the meantime, straightening the material. you crouch down to megumi’s level and pat his head tenderly, “what happened? why are you out of bed?”
megumi stares up at you with teary eyes. he’s clenching onto his dog plushie, hugging the stuffed animal to his little body. you can easily guess that he’s scared—probably because of a nightmare. he’s been getting those more frequently.
though, instead of explaining himself, megumi searches for answers to something else. he points at his dad who’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. the toddler then looks back at you like he’s made some big discovery;
“mama papa kissing!”
you nearly choke on your spit. megumi’s a clever little boy and it shows through his advanced vocabulary. you’re surprised that he’s learnt what that meant already. you try to deny what your child said, “no, uhm, mama and papa were just hugging!”
toji snorts at your half assed excuse. he lazily walks over to you two, hands in his pockets. he bends forwards and looks megumi in the eyes with a huge smirk on his face. “yeah, we were. ‘n you totally ruined it,” he utters without any shame and menacingly sticks his tongue out at the little boy.
you hiss and lightly shove toji—he cannot take anything seriously. you’re trying your best to distract megumi’s attention from what he’s seen his parents do, to what his reason is for waking up.
“did you have a nightmare again?” you coo and pick your son up. he instantly snuggles up to you and presses his face against your chest in search of comfort. you smile and can conclude that your assumptions are right.
you pet megumi’s head whilst softly humming one of his favorite lullabies. toji watches your interaction with his son and his mood softens once more. he silently hugs you from behind—also wrapping an arm around megumi—turning it into a little family group hug.
“y’re all right, buddy,” toji mutters to megumi and the little boy sniffles in response, “mama ‘n papa ‘re right here.”
after a couple minutes, you carry megumi back to his room before putting him down in his bed. your husband stands next to you as you make sure your kid is tucked in properly.
megumi stares up at you with a sniff and you nearly melt at the adorable sight. you brush his bangs out of his eyes and kiss his forehead, wishing him a good night. the toddler nods and hugs his plushie to his chest again, still a bit shaken up from the nightmare. however, he’s doing a lot better after he got comforted by both his parents.
“sweet dreams, gumi,” you whisper and rub megumi’s cheeks with a fond smile on your lips. toji simply stares at you conversing with megumi—his face showing little to no emotion. though, from within, toji is absolutely in awe at your motherly personality. you’re the perfect mother.
megumi gets drowsy and tosses onto his side so he could be more comfortable. he struggles to open his eyes, but manages to look at toji. the little boy pouts and points another finger at his dad, this time drowsily warning him, “papa no kiss mama, ‘kay?”
that comment catches you off guard. you’re embarrassed by the fact that megumi still remembers what he’s seen in the kitchen. you try to clear your throat and explain yourself, but toji’s one step ahead of you. he silently mimics megumi’s words and rolls his eyes—
“yeah yeah, whatever. i won’t,” toji promises his son. the toddler clearly inherited your husband’s protectiveness. you chuckle at the playfulness between the two, enjoying the jokey banter the father-son duo have each time.
megumi huffs in victory and nods. he can sleep in peace now, knowing his dad won’t try anything funny with you. he closes his weary eyes and is asleep within just a few seconds.
you stretch your arms and sigh in content. you can’t help but chuckle once you notice how megumi’s fallen asleep with a tiny smile on his lips. you give the child one last forehead kiss before leaving the room in silence.
toji follows right behind you. now that his son is sound asleep, he doesn’t have to keep his promise. technically— he wasn’t planning to anyway.
“c’mere,” your husband mumbles and grabs your hand. he pulls you into a tight hug, hands instantly roaming your body which he admires so much. he plants his lips onto yours not a second later.
you smile into the kiss, finding it funny how toji couldn’t keep his (fake) promise for even one second. he would die if he actually couldn’t kiss you, and that isn’t even an exaggeration.
toji pulls back after a moment and smirks at you—those bedroom eyes of his very telling.
\( ᐖ)/ heianera!sukuna’s wife has been ignoring him, and he won’t have it
“Has she eaten?”
Uraume stands reverently at Sukuna’s side, flat gaze fixed ahead of them. “No, My lord. She has yet to leave her quarters.”
Sukuna grunts something under his breath, then dismisses his attendant who shuffles across the threshold of the lattice frame doors and disappears past the translucent sheets.
It’s quiet. Especially without your routine complaints or gossip of the shrine’s happenings. His breakfast tastes notably pungent this morning, the fisherman who refused to pay tribute at this month’s offering no longer as appetizing as he looked when he begged for mercy at Sukuna’s feet. Like a petulant child, he pushes his tray away from him and gathers his kimono to hoist himself up.
You haven’t said a word to him in three days. Any longer and the two of you might never speak again.
It’s juvenile—offering your Lord the cold shoulder like some inconsolable child. For fuck’s sake, he’s the strongest sorcerer in history. The undisputed King of Curses. Why is his attention anchored on a mere spiff? A lover’s quarrel?
No. He will sort this once and for all.
You’ve had enough time to sort out your emotions. The two of you will speak again today if he has a say in it. Which he does.
Promptly, he arrives outside your chambers. There’s not a sound coming from inside. For all he knows, you were assassinated in your sleep, stubborn and set on sleeping in separate rooms.
Sukuna doesn’t knock. The entitled man just slides the door open, inviting himself into your space.
Sukuna quickly realizes maybe he shouldn’t be as reckless as he’s feeling—only met with the sight of two irises piercing daggers into him.
You’re half-naked, sliding yourself into your kimono and brushing your unruly hair from your face.
But, no. Sukuna’s not focused on your pinched up and twisted expression that’s making a show to scowl at him. His attention is fully honed in on your body. Not because he wants to tear that stupid kimono off of you and devour you like he has for the past couple of lonesome nights. Even the worst fights ended with you sprawled beneath him—tears staining your cheeks while you screamed his name in pure bliss.
His crimson slits are dragging over your swollen and perky breasts, rounded out more than normal. The slight pouch of your belly. The second heartbeat jumping behind it.
Huh.
“Where is Furi? Were my instructions to her of not allowing any visitors in unclear?” you practically shout, working to tie your obi sash in haste. Perhaps you do not wish to spend another moment in his presence.
Sukuna slips inside, sliding the door shut and crossing his arms over his chest. He feels his temper simmer to a manageable level. If anything, your spat from the other night is inconsequential. Truly, he doesn’t even remember what the two of you argued about. His long hours away from the shrine? A servant who stared at him too long? His tendency to be a brute with the people of his domain? It’s usually one of the three.
“I was unaware that I was a visitor in my own shrine,” he retorts, head tilting as he gives you a slow appraisal with all four eyes. “Have you done something new with your hair?” he smirks, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.
“Go find a scythe to fuck yourself on,” you curse, a pout on your lips as you stare at yourself in the mirror, clearly unsatisfied with the reflection staring back.
“Maybe I should,'“ he practically purrs out, a curl on his lips as he motions to leave your room.
He stops in place when your gaze flies towards him, doe eyes tinged red and filled with tears. You must have been crying all night, your cheeks swollen and eyelids puffy.
“Woman,” Sukuna starts slow, still marveled at the fact that you have domesticated him into rationality. “Use your words. I may be the strongest creature in all the lands, but what I am not is a mind reader,” he growls, gaze thinning in tepid vexation.
The corner of your lips twitch downward, before a tear slips down your cheek. You suck in a shaky breath, before staring at your reflection once again with disgust. “Something’s wrong with me, Ryomen,” you whisper, voice wavering. “I keep crying. Nothing tastes good anymore. I want to hit and kick you one minute, and then feel your kisses on my throat while you press me into the futon.”
You bite your lip, Sukuna’s form swallowing the background as he hovers over you from behind. Like they belong there, his lower pair of hands settle on your waist, while the other pair shift to correct the poorly tied obi.
Sukuna’s words, vulgar and rash and mean, are an absolute to his actions. Gentle. Loving. Tender.
Leaning down, he presses a kiss against your pulse point, feeling it jump under his teeth. Then, he whispers. Tone husky, a low timbre. “We’ve been fucking like dogs, little bird. When did you last bleed?”
You tense up, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you sort out your thoughts. “Oh my… N-no, I bled when… when that servant tried to poison you,” you stutter out, picking at your fingernails.
Sukuna can feel your heartbeat picking up as you begin to panic. Two hands find yours, large and calloused thumbs brushing over your supple skin. “That was well over a month ago. How incompetent are your servants that they haven’t noticed?”
You turn to face him, feeling more tears well up, running across your waterline. “I prefer to tend to m-my own sheets.”
Sukuna, a beast of a human, has to hold back his laughter from his wife whose about three seconds away from a breakdown. It is comical just how asinine you can be. Nonetheless, Sukuna has a strong incentive to see joining him for breakfast again.
“Had I known you women were so complicated, I would have rethought this matrimony,” he grunts against your ear, a hand at your waist sliding up your belly.
“Well, you’re stuck with me,” you mutter stubbornly. You lean back against your husbands broad chest, inhaling deeply, breath shaking. “Us. You’re stuck with us.”
Sukuna’s gaze squints, ears twitching as he picks up on both the beat in your chest and the one in your belly. “I didn’t think it was possible.”
The raw vulnerability in his voice takes you aback. “Neither did I. Do you think we will be good at it?”
“You will,” he states with the utmost confidence, dragging your hair past your shoulder to inhale the scented oil dabbed on your nape. “You are a world’s more merciful than I am.”
You giggle, slapping his hand and allowing him to squeeze you in your intimate places, decorating your skin with short kisses. “That is true.”
The both of you stand there in silence. You and Sukuna never needed to fill the gaps with meaningless words, simply finding comfort in each other’s company. He’s nervous, you can see it in the tight expression he wears. And your pulse hasn’t slowed since you’d learned of what’s blossoming in your womb.
But you have each other. In a world full of curses and strife, Ryomen Sukuna and you managed to find worshiping devotion in one another that triumphs all.
