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
Light Yagami and Teru Mikami falling for the same darling
✍️🖋Light would never ever in his life share his darling with anybody. That much is clear. That guy is enough of an asshole to already mess Misa’s mind badly enough up so she’ll keep an eye on you and report to him whenever you do something wrong.
✍️🖋I believe that you were at first only Light’s darling and that is the thing that made Mikami obsess over you in the first place. Because you’re his god’s s/o that must mean that you’re one of the most innocent and deserving people on this planet. Why else would have his god chosen you? He’s on the delusional side and this would give this side of him a boost in the bad sense. You’re his new god/goddess which he’ll follow and serve loyally.
✍️🖋Mikami would in this scenario never dare to hurt you and try to mold you into your most ideal self. If his god has made you his god/goddess that means you’re already perfect. And if not then only god has the right to hurt you. He’s below that.
✍️🖋At first Mikami would simply obsess over the fact that you’re the future god/goddess of this world next to Light. You’re the embodiment of how every human on this world should be, you’re the ideal being. Mikami always wanted to meet someone like you. You’re everything that a human should be. No! You aren’t a human! That’s why you’re so perfect. You’re an angel.
✍️🖋The thing with Mikami is that, since he worships Light, he would never try to take you away from him. You’re Light’s through and through and Mikami sees himself as already blessed enough that he has the honor of seeing his god’s angel, having you anywhere near him. He would feel proud that his god trusts him that much. So when discovering his feelings for you he would feel like he just betrayed his god by falling in love with you. He’s really distorted, completely messed up and I can see him as someone who might actually punish himself for doing something like this to his god. You’re Light Yagami’s, how dare he to fall for you?!
✍️🖋Light is really smart and it’s either that he’ll discover it beforehand or Mikami will tell him about this, begging for forgiveness for doing such an unspeakable crime. And let’s be honest, Light would be enraged that Mikami, the one guy he saw as useful enough to give him a Death Note, fell for you. There are two possible ways how he’ll react to this. The first one would be writing his name down in the Death Note and killing him, deciding to search for someone else. In that case the story would end here, with Light making sure that you’ll never leave the house again and still ensuring that the next person who he will give the Death Note to won’t fall for you.
✍️🖋The second option is that he’ll kill that guy after he helped him becoming the new god and cleaning this world up. In that case there would be probably made some sort of agreement.
✍️🖋Light knows that Mikami will do as he say and there is a possibility that Mikami will become your new watchdog next to Misa. That would be a good thing since Misa lost at that time already ownership and memories of the Death Note and wouldn’t be really able to control you like Light wishes she could. Mikami on the other hand follows Light blindly and is ready to kill someone you love as soon as you act up, observing you dutifully and telling Light everything that you did as soon as he’s back from work.
✍️🖋Mikami feels absolutely thrilled that his god named him your new guardian, having the chance to observe the future god/goddess from close. That guy is a huge worshipper. How couldn’t he if you’re god’s darling? And that would make him creepy. His behavior, voice and the look on his face would scream obsession all the fucking time. But he would be better as if it would be the case that you’re only his s/o. Because then he would punish you heavily, but in this scenario he might not even dare to touch you in the most innocent way. You’re not his, he should feel grateful enough for his god letting him anywhere near you.
✍️🖋Light is without a doubt the one in control here and if Mikami should ever do something to hurt or upset you he would feel like a sinner and beg Light Yagami at the end of the day for forgiveness. And it’s up to Light to decide whether he’s able to live a bit longer or will be killed. But there will be a punishment given.
✍️🖋But don’t get your hopes up that Mikami will help you. He’s only loyal to Light and will do as he tells him. If you should still fall for him then best belief that guy will be dead the next minute because you are only allowed to love Light. No one else. No matter how I tried to look at this, I can’t see Mikami surviving in the end. As I said above, Light won’t have anyone else loving you and as soon as he gets the feeling that something might go wrong he’ll kill him. As long as he provides to be useful he’ll live, but as soon as Light doesn’t need him anymore he’ll write his name down in the Death Note.
✍️🖋And Mikami wouldn’t even hold it against Light. He knows that he sinned the moment he developed feelings for his god’s angel. But he would also feel happy that he got to spend some time with you and see why you were worthy of being called a god/goddess. He was able to protect you and help his god to clean this world up. That would be enough for him.
Back from college and staying with your dad in his shitty apartment complex, the older man... your neighbor next door has been noticing you, just as you have?
ಇ.content & warnings: porn with no plot :: non canon au :: reader is implied to be thicc :: age gaps - (reader in their early 20s, Toji is in his Mid 30s) :: older neighbour trope :: touching through clothes :: kissing :: oral f.rec :: pussyjobs :: multi-gasms :: p in v :: spitting :: different sex positions? :: anal play - (thumb) :: c-pied :: description's of sex and anatomy was meant to be more on the 'graphic side' ::
The back porch of apartment 07 was nothing special — just cracked concrete painted a faded green years ago, a single wobbly plastic chair, and a rusted railing that overlooked the narrow strip of shared yard nobody ever used. Summer heat clung to everything like wet cotton, thick and slow even now that the sun had dipped low enough to turn the sky bruised purple.
You’d been inside all day, scrolling on your phone until your eyes ached, hoodie zipped halfway over a thin tank top because the AC was barely spitting cool air anymore. Shorts riding up high on your thighs, the soft cotton clinging where sweat had gathered at the crease of your hips.
Ninety degrees and no breeze, so you finally gave up and dragged yourself outside to sprawl on the single step, legs stretched long, bare feet dangling over the edge.
That’s when you saw him.
Toji Fushiguro, in apartment 08, right next door, he stepped out the side door with a black garbage bag in one scarred hand, in the same tight black t-shirt you’d seen him in a dozen times before, sleeves stretched tight around thick biceps, fabric clinging to the hard planes of his chest and stomach like it was painted on. Dark sweatpants slung low on narrow hips, the waistband showing a thin strip of tanned skin when he moved.
That scar sliced the corner of his mouth, pulling slightly when his lips twitched like he was always half a second from smirking at something only he found funny and black hair messy, damp at the temples from the heat or maybe from whatever he’d been doing inside his own place all day.
He didn’t look your way at first, he just hefts the bag into the big metal bin with one easy toss, muscles rolling under tanned skin, then wipes his forearm across his brow.
You should’ve looked away, should’ve pretended to stare at the sky or your chipped nail polish or literally anything else, but your eyes stayed glued, tracing the way his shoulders flexed when he turned, the slow roll of his neck as he cracked it side to side and maybe he felt it, because those sharp green eyes finally flicked over.
Eyes locking on yours.
Your stomach does a nasty, liquid flip. Not fear, exactly. Something hotter. Hungrier. You feel suddenly very aware of how your shorts are bunched high on your ass, how the hoodie’s ridden up to show the dip of your spine, how your thighs are parted just enough that if he looked lower he’d see the soft inner curve where skin meets cotton.
He didn’t smile, didn’t wave. Just stood there with one big hand still resting on the bin lid, staring like he had all night to decide what he wanted to do about the pretty little thing next door finally looking back.
Then he starts walking.
Not toward his apartment, towards you.
Each step, heavy. Bare feet on gravel and the closer he gets the more details you take in, faint sheen of sweat on his throat, the way veins stand out along his forearms and he stops at the edge of your porch slab, one foot planted on the rickety porch so he’s towering without even trying.
For a second the world narrows to just that look; heavy and unreadable, dragging down the length of your sprawled body like he was cataloging every inch. The hoodie half-open so the thin tank underneath showed the soft dip between your breasts, nipples pebbled from the sudden shift in temperature and maybe something else, your shorts bunched high enough that the plump curve where thigh met hip was on full display, cotton stretched tight across your mound.
You felt the fabric pull snug there, outlining the soft curve of your pussy in a way that made heat crawl up your neck, shifting your thighs together instinctively — only making it worse. A tiny damp spot had already started blooming at the crotch from hours of lazy daydreams and the sticky summer air.
You swallow. Throat dry. “Hi,” it comes out smaller than you meant.
Toji’s scarred mouth twitches barely. “Hey.”
Voice low and rough around the edges like gravel dragged over velvet. One word and it already felt like he’d put his palm flat on your sternum and pressed.
You sat up a little straighter, hoodie slipping off one shoulder. “You’re… Toji, right? My dad said you’re the quiet one.”
He huffed through his nose, the closest thing to a laugh you’d ever heard from him. “Yeah. That’s me.” He took one slow step closer. “And you’re the kid who’s been runnin’ around in those little shorts all summer.”
Your breath hitched, you're not a kid. Not really, but the way he said it with that lazy drawl, his eyes dropping to where your thighs are pressed together, made your clit throb under the cotton like he’d reached out and thumbed it.
“I’m not a kid,” you mumbled, cheeks burning. “I’m nineteen, almost twenty.”
Toji’s brows lifted just a fraction. “Almost twenty,” he echoed, like he was tasting the words. Another step forward, now he was close enough you could smell him; clean sweat, faint soap, something darker underneath like motor oil and cedar. “Old enough to know better than to sit out here lookin’ like that when it’s just you and me.”
Your heart slammed against your ribs. You tried to play it cool, tugging the hem of your hoodie down like it would hide anything. “It’s hot. I just wanted air.”
“Mm.” His gaze slid lower again, shamelessly, lingering on the visible outline of your pussy lips printed through the thin shorts, plump, puffy, already so swollen from nothing but his proximity. “Looks like you’re feelin’ more than just the heat, sweetheart.”
The pet name landed like a spark on dry grass, and you squeezed your thighs tighter, but that only made the damp cotton drag against your slick folds. A tiny, involuntary whimper slipped out before you could catch it.
Toji’s eyes darkened. He crouched slowly, his big body folding with surprising grace, until he was eye-level with you on the step. Forearms resting on spread thighs, scarred hands dangling loose between his knees. So close you can see the faint sheen of sweat on his collarbone, the way his happy trail disappears under the waistband, dark and tempting.
He tilts his head, just enough that the dying sunlight cuts across the sharp line of his jaw. Moss-green eyes drag from your bare legs up up up- slowly and unapologetic. Lingers on the bare strip of stomach where your hoodie’s rucked up. On the way your shorts cling to the plump curve of your ass, aaaaall the way up to your face like he’s cataloguing every inch he’s already seen a hundred times through cracked blinds.
“Been seein’ you around,” he says. Voice quieter now and allmost intimate. “You live next door, right? Your old man’s girl.”
Not a question again.
You nod anyway. Tongue feeling too big in your mouth.
“Yeah. I’m… back for summer break.”
He hums, deep in his chest. The sound vibrates through the humid air straight into your bones.
“Didn’t figure you’d be out here lookin’ like that,” his eyes glance to your lips then back up to your eyes, “always out this late too huh, doll?”
You blink. “...You noticed?”
Another almost-laugh. “Hard not to.”
Heat floods your cheeks. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of exposed skin. The way your nipples have pebbled against the thin hoodie fabric from the slight breeze or maybe just from him looking at you like that.
“You been watchin’ me too, huh?” he murmured. Voice softer than you expected. Almost gentle. “Every time you come out here. Corner store. Back porch. Thought I didn’t notice?”
Your lips parted, no sound comes out at first. Then, barely a whisper,“I… I thought you didn’t.”
“Wrong.” One big hand lifts slow, carefully and the rough pad of his thumb brushed the edge of your hoodie sleeve where it had slipped down your shoulder. Goosebumps erupts across everywhere he almost touches. “Been noticin’ you since the first day you walked by in those jeans. Ass hugged so tight I could see the outline of your panties. Thought about bendin’ you over the railing right then.”
Heat floods your core so fast your vision blurs and you can feel yourself leaking now, slow, syrupy slick soaking through your innocent cotton panties, darkening the crotch of your shorts in an obvious little patch. His eyes drops to it immediately.
“Fuck,” he breathes, almost reverential. “Look at that. Sweet little pussy already cryin’ for me and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
You whimpered again, louder this time, hips shifting forward on instinct, chasing nothing.
“You alone tonight?” he asks. Casually, like he’s asking about the weather.
You nod, throat dry. “Dad’s working late again, always is.”
Toji hums, low in his chest. The sound vibrates through the air into your palms.
He reaches out, slow enough that you could pull away if you wanted.
You don’t.
Thick fingers catch the hem of your hoodie where it’s ridden up over your hip and he doesn’t pull it down. Just tugs it a little higher, exposing another inch of soft skin. His thumb brushes the edge of your shorts, barely a graze, but it feels like he’s touching you somewhere much more intimate.
“These are reaaaaal short,” he drawls. Voice gone darker. “You always walk around in shit like this?”
Your heart slams against your ribs. “Sometimes.”
He exhales through his nose, almost a growl.
“Careful, sweetheart.” His thumb presses just barely into the crease where thigh meets ass. “Lots of eyes around here.”
You’re trembling now and its not from fear, its from the sudden, vicious ache blooming low in your belly. Your thighs press together on instinct and he notices. Of course he does.
Toji’s eyes flick down to where your legs squeeze, then back up to your face, that smirk of his deepens.
“You scared of me?” he asks softly, almost sweet — if sweet could be laced with this much danger.
You shake your head, barely.
“Liar,” he says but he sounds pleased.
His hand slides higher, his fingers splaying wide across the small of your back, his palm is hot and rough as calluses drag against your skin like a promise. He doesn’t push you down. Doesn’t need to, you’re already melting into the floor boards, arching just enough that your ass lifts a fraction — offering.
He groans quietly and guttural, the first real crack in that cool exterior.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “You’re trouble.”
You lick your lips, voice barely there. “You gonna do something about it?”
His eyes snap to yours. Dark, predatory.
For one endless second neither of you moves.
Your breath hitches when his gaze drops again — straight to the damp patch you know is starting to show. The cotton’s darker there now, clinging, outlining the plump shape of your pussy lips so clearly it’s obscene. You’re soaked, have been since you noticed him watching. And he can fucking see it.
“Pretty little thing like you,” he murmurs, voice dropping to something dangerous-soft, “sittin’ out here all needy. Drippin’ through your shorts for the old man next door.”
Your mouth falls open on a shaky gasp. No denial. No lie. Just liquid heat, shameful heat — flooding between your legs at his words.
Toji’s eyes darken and hooks one thick finger under the hem of your shorts. Doesn’t pull them down. Just lifts the fabric the tiniest bit, letting it snap back against the crease of your thigh with a soft thwack.
“Bet these panties are fuckin’ ruined,” he says, almost conversationally. “All wet and clingy, pushin’ up against the seam, yeah?”
You whimper high and helpless, hips shifting forward before you can stop them.
He chuckles, low and mean. “Knew it.”
Toji’s hand moves again, this time cupping the side of your face, thumb stroking slow along your jaw. Calluses rough against your soft skin. “Pretty thing,” he murmured. “So shy. So needy. Bet you’ve been touchin’ yourself thinkin’ about the mean neighbour next door, huh? Imaginin’ what these hands would feel like spreadin’ you open.”
Your head tipped into his palm. Eyes fluttering. “Y-yes…”
“Good girl.” Praise hits like honey dripping down your spine. He leaned in closer — close enough his breath fanned your glossed lips. “Gonna kiss you now. Wanna taste how sweet that pouty mouth is before I ruin the rest of you.”
You nodded with frantic little jerks of your head.
Then his mouth is on yours.
Soft at first, just the brush of scarred lips over your glossy ones, tasting artificial cherry and nervous salt. He groaned low in his throat the second your mouths connect, like he’d been starving for it, his big hand slides to the nape of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, tilting your head exactly how he wants so he could lick slow into the seam of your lips.
You opened for him instantly. Tongue shy and tentative, his is thicker, hotter, curling against yours with lazy confidence. He kisses like he had nowhere else to be, like he could spend hours just licking into your mouth, swallowing every tiny whimper you give him.
“So fuckin’ sweet,” he mumbles against your lips between slow, wet kisses. “Taste like summer, like you’ve been waitin’ for this.”
His other hand finds your thigh, palming the plush inner meat, squeezing gently, thumb stroking higher and higher until it grazes the damp edge of your shorts, not pushing inside. Just petting. Soothing. Praising.
“Doin’ so good for me already,” he whispers, nipping your bottom lip. “Letting me kiss you like this. Letting me feel how wet you are just from my mouth. Such a good girl f'me already.”
You moan into his kiss loud and needy — hips canting up so his thumb presses firmer against the soaked outline of your pussy. He growls softly, rewarding you with another deep, filthy lick into your mouth.
The kiss turns hungrier. Wetter. His tongue fucks slow and deliberately into yours while his hand kneads your thigh, inching closer to where you ache most — never quite touching your clit, just circling, teasing, making you drip more and more until the cotton’s clinging transparently to every swollen fold.
He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breath ragged, green eyes blown black with want.
“Tell me you want more,” he raspes. Voice wrecked. “Tell me you want my hands on you. My mouth. Everything.”
Your lips trembles, gloss smeared and eyes glassy.
“I want it,” you breathe. “Want you…please, Toji…”
He smiled then slowly, gaze darkening but still so gentle when his thumb brushes your cheek again.
“Good girl,” he purred.
And then he kissed you deeper — claiming, devouring, promising every filthy thing he's about to do to you next.
His mouth is still on yours hot, slow and filthy in the best way. Tongue sliding deep, curling lazy against yours like he's mapping every soft inch of your mouth, tasting the cherry gloss you’d slicked on earlier just because you felt pretty.
Toji kisses like a man who’s waited too long to taste something sweet and now couldn’t get enough. A big hand cradles the back of your neck, thumb stroking the sensitive spot just under your ear while the other squeezes the plush meat of your inner thigh — fingers digging in just enough to make your hips twitch forward, chasing more pressure against the soaked cotton clinging to your pussy.
You were drowning in it. Brain turning to warm syrup, every thought melting into the wet drag of his tongue, the faint scrape of his scar against your lower lip when he sucks it between his teeth. Soft little whimpers bubbling out of you every time he pulls back just to nip, just to breathe a rough “good girl” against your mouth before diving back in deeper.
Your hands found his shoulders somewhere in the haze, your fingertips digging into hard muscles under that tight black shirt, feeling the heat rolling off him like a furnace. He smells so good up close; clean sweat, faint cologne that clung to his neck, something darker and masculine underneath that made your clit throb harder every time you inhaled.
When he finally eases back — barely an inch, forehead pressing to yours, your lips swollen, gloss smeared across both your mouths, strings of spit connecting when yours part. You were panting, chest heaving under the half-zipped hoodie, nipples tight and aching against the thin tank.
Toji’s green eyes were blown black, pupils eating up the color as he stares down at you like you were the only thing left in the world worth looking at. His thumb brushing slowly over your bottom lip, spreading the mess even more.
“Fuck, look at this mouth,” he murmurs, voice gravel-rough and wrecked. “All glossy and puffy from just my kisses. Bet it’d look even prettier wrapped around my cock.”
The words hit you like a slap of heat. Your thighs clenching hard — slick gushing fresh against your already drenched panties, the cotton so wet now it was sticking transparently to every plump fold. You could feel the outline of your pussy lips print shamelessly through the shorts, fat and swollen… begging.
You tried to speak — tried to be smart, to play it cool, but your brain was mush, words tumbling out careless and needy.
“W-wanna… come inside?” you breathed, barely coherent. “For… for a drink. Or… something. Please.”
Toji’s scarred lips curves slow and predatory, but still so fucking gentle when his thumb strokes your cheek again.
“Yeah?” he rasps. “You invitin’ the old man next door inside while your daddy’s gone? Careful, sweetheart. I might'n wanna leave once I get my hands on you proper.”
Your head bobs, frantical little nods. “I… I don’t want you to leave.”
He groans low in his throat, like the confession physically hurt him in the best way. Then he was standing, a slow roll of his muscles as he rose to his full height, now towering over you on the step. One big hand extended down.
“C’mon then pretty girl. Show me where you live.”
You take his hand, your small fingers swallowed up in his scarred palm and you let him pull you up. Legs shaky, thighs slick where they're rubbing together. The second you're standing he tugs you closer, arm banding around your waist so your soft body presses flush to his hard one. You could feel him, thick and heavy…his cock already half-hard and straining against his sweatpants, nudging insistently against your lower belly.
“Fuck,” he mutters into your hair, inhaling deep like he was trying to memorize your scent. “Smell's so sweet. Bet you taste even better between those thighs.”
He walks you the few steps to your door like that, an arm possessive around you, free hand palming slow over the curve of your ass through your shorts, squeezing the plush flesh like he was testing how soft you really are. You fumble the key with trembling fingers and he just chuckles low against your ear.
“Easy, baby. We got all night.”
The door finally opens. You stumble inside, the dim living room lit up only by the lamp you’d left on, the cheap couch, scattered textbooks from last semester you hadn’t bothered to put away. Toji kicks the door shut behind him without looking, then spun you gently until your back hits the wall beside it.
He didn’t crowd you right away. Just stood there, close enough you could feel his heat, but giving you that one last second to back out if you wanted.
You didn’t.
Instead you tipped your head back, lips parting eyes glassy and pleading.
Toji’s hand came up and cupsyour jaw so gently it made your chest ache, his thumb stroking over your swollen bottom lip again.
“Look at you,” he whispers, voice thick with something almost reverent. “So fuckin’ pretty. So young and soft and already drippin’ for a man old enough to know better. You know how filthy that is, sweetheart? How wrong?”
You whimpered, nodding your hips canting forward so the damp crotch of your shorts brushes the hard line of his cock through his sweats.
“Feels right to me,” you breathe out needy.
His eyes flutters shut for a second — like your words punched the air out of him. Then he was kissing you again, deeper this time, hungrier. Tongue fucking slow into your mouth while both hands slid down to grip your thighs, lifting you easy like you weighed nothing. Your legs wraps around his waist on instinct; he pins you to the wall with his hips, his thick cock grinding slow against your soaked pussy through layers of fabric.
You moaned loud into his mouth, a desperate, broken sound.
“That’s it,” he praises against your lips, rocking slow and deliberately. “Grind on it, baby, let me feel how wet you are for me. Soaked right through these little shorts… fuck, I can smell you. Sweet little cunt cryin’ for cock.”
His hands kneads your ass rough, spreading you open even through your clothes, his fingertips dipping under the hem of your shorts to brush the edge of your drenched panties. You jolt at the contact and he just shushes you softly by kissing the corner of your mouth.
“Doin’ so good,” he murmurs. “Such a good girl lettin’ me touch. Gonna take care of you, yeah? Gonna make this pretty pussy feel so full… but imma take my time. Wanna savor every second of ruinin’ you.”
You were shaking, your whole body trembling with need, clit throbbing against the drag of his cock every time he rolls his hips. Slick had soaked through everything now and you could feel it smearing against him, making the fabric cling obscenely.
“Toji…” His name comes out wrecked, pleading. “Please… need you.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark, tender and filthy all at once.
“I know, sweetheart,” he rasps, pressing one last soft kiss to your forehead. “I know. Gonna give you everything. But first…”
His hand slid between your bodies and cups your pussy over the shorts, his palm grinds slow against your swollen clit while two thick fingers traces the soaked outline of your lips through the cotton.
“Gonna make you come like this first,” he promises, voice low and wrecked with want. “Just from my hand, m'gonna watch this sweet little thing soak my fingers before I even get inside you. You gonna be good and come for me, baby?”
Your head falls back against the wall, eyes rolling, your hips already chasing his palm in frantic little circles.
“Y-yes… yes, please… Toji…”
He smiles slowly, dangerous and adoring.
“That’s my girl.”
And then he kisses you again deeper and filthy, while his hand works unhurried, perfect little circles over your dripping cunt, building you up slow and sweet until you’re trembling on the edge, ready to fall apart for the quiet neighbour who’d finally let you into his world.
Toji didn’t set you down.
Not even for a second.
The second your shaky “yes” left your lips he scoops you up like you weigh nothing, his big scarred hands sliding under the plush meat of your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor so your legs had no choice but to wrap tight around his narrow waist. Your soaked shorts presses right against the thick, heavy ridge of his cock straining through his sweatpants, and the friction made you whimper into his mouth — high, the needy sound swallowed by another slow, filthy kiss.
Toji doesn’t even glance at the couch, he heads straight for your bedroom door instead. “Wanna take this where I can spread you out proper. Where I can watch every little thing that pretty face does when I make you come apart.”
Your arms loops around his neck — fingers digging into the short black hair at his nape, clinging like he's the only solid thing left in your world. He carries you down the short hallway like that, feet heavy on the cheap laminate, every step grinding his cock against your dripping pussy through the thin layers. You could feel how hard he is — thick, hot and pulsing, already leaking enough that a damp spot had started blooming on his sweats where your slick had soaked through everything.
Your bedroom door was half-open already. Small room — nothing fancy. Twin bed pushed against one wall with rumpled pastel sheets you hadn’t bothered making, fairy lights strung lazy across the headboard from last semester, a cluttered desk with half-finished college notes and empty energy drink cans. Window cracked, letting in the thick summer night air. It smells faintly like your vanilla body spray and the faint laundry detergent on your sheets.
Toji kicks the door shut behind him, a soft click of the latch sealing you both in and crosses the small space in three strides, he didn’t bother with the light. The glow from a dim lamp on your table and those soft fairy lights was enough — warm, hazy, turning his sharp features golden and making the scar on his mouth look even more wicked when he smirked down at you.
He lowered you slow onto the edge of the mattress carefully, almost worshipful, until your ass hit the comforter and your legs dangles off. But he didn’t step back. Just stayed between your spread thighs, towering, broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the room.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick with something soft and hungry all at once. Big hands sliding up your sides, under the hem of your hoodie this time, his palms rough and warm dragging slow over the soft curve of your waist, thumbs brushing the underside of your tits through the thin tank. “So fuckin’ soft everywhere. Plush little body just beggin’ to be touched.”
You shiver, your whole body trembling as his hands keep roaming. Up your ribs, over the swell of your breasts, squeezing gently through fabric until your nipples peaks hard against his palms. Then back down, his fingertips tracing the gentle pooch of your tummy, dipping into the soft dip of your navel, spreading wide to span the width of your lower belly like he was measuring how perfectly you’d fit under him.
His eyes drop lower, locking on the obscene wet spot darkening your shorts. The cotton plastered to your pussy now, every plump, fattened lip outlined clear as day, swollen clit peeking through like a needy little button begging for attention. Slick soaked all the way through your innocent panties underneath, making the fabric sheer and clinging, showing the glossy sheen of your arousal coating every fold.
“Jesus,” he breathes, almost dazed. “Can’t even hide it, can you? Fat little cunt just printin’ out for me, drippin’ right through everything. Been leakin’ like this since I kissed you on the porch, huh?”
You nodded frantically, cheeks burning, your hips shifting forward on instinct so the soaked crotch of your shorts brushes his thigh.
Toji groans low, a deep rumble in his chest, then leans down, caging you with his arms braced on either side of your hips. His mouth finds your neck — hot, open-mouthed kisses trailing slow from under your ear down the column of your throat. He sucks gently at first, his lips sealing over soft skin, tongue flicking — then harder. Teeth grazing just enough to sting before he soothes it with slow laps, blooming dark purple bruises one after another like he was marking territory.
“Good girl,” he whispers between sucks, voice muffled against your skin. “Lettin’ me mark you up like this. Gonna look so pretty tomorrow, little love bites all over this sweet neck so everyone knows who’s been takin’ care of you.”
His hands never stops moving, he slides them under your hoodie again, pushing the fabric up slowly until it bunches under your tits. Callused palms dragging over bare skin now, the rough texture making you arch, you let out a faint gasp, as his fingers splays wide over your soft tummy, kneading gently like he couldn’t get enough of how plush you were there.
“Love this,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the corner of your jaw. “This soft little belly. Gonna watch it bounce when I’m fuckin’ you deep later. Gonna feel it quiver when you come all over my cock.”
You were whimpering nonstop now, your brain goopy, thoughts reduced to nothing but the heat of his mouth, the weight of his hands, the slow grind of his hips every time he shifts closer. He was still fully clothed, his tight black shirt stretching over thick pecs and sharp-cut abs, sweatpants slung low but you could feel every ridge of muscle flexing against you when he moved. Solid. Unyielding. Cutting through the thin layers like he was already inside you.
Toji pulls back just enough to look at your face, eyes dark, tender and filthy with want. Thumb brushing over one of the fresh bruises on your throat, a gentle stroke that made you shiver.
“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” he praises, voice low and steady. “Look how pretty you are.” Your eyes were all glassy, lips swollen, pussy so wet he could hear it every time you shift. “Gonna take my time with you, m'gonna touch every inch, talk you through it nice and slow till you’re shakin’ and beggin’.”
One hand slides down, cupping your soaked mound over the shorts, his palm grinding slow against your clit while thick fingers traces the plump outline of your lips through the fabric. Not pushing inside yet. Just petting. Soothing. Building.
“Feel that?” he whispers, pressing firmer so you could feel how your slick squelches against his palm. “That’s all for me. Sweet little thing gettin’ this messy just from my kisses and my hands. Such a good girl. My good girl.”
You moan, loud and broken, your head tipping back as your hips rolls up into his touch.
He kisses you again, his tongue sliding against yours while his hand keeps that lazy rhythm between your thighs. The other stays on your tummy, rubbing slow circles over the soft pudge, possessive and adoring all at once.
“Gonna watch you fall apart, sweetheart,” he promised against your mouth. “Gonna make this pretty pussy come so hard you see stars. And then I’m gonna do it again. And again. Till you’re too fucked-out to think about anything but me.”
His fingers hooks under the waistband of your shorts slowly tugging it downward, just enough to bare the top of your drenched panties.
“Ready for more?” he murmurs, nipping your bottom lip. “Gonna strip you and kiss every bruise I leave, spread these plush thighs and taste how sweet you are.”
Your answer was a shaky nod, eyes locked on his and pleading.
Toji smiles slow, dangerous and so fucking gentle.
“That’s my girl.”
And then he starts peeling your hoodie off slowly, his hands worshipping every new inch of bare skin he uncovers, mouth following right behind with more soft kisses and praise, ready to unravel you piece by trembling piece on your little twin bed while the summer night presses warm against the window.
Toji pulls back from your neck, his lips shiny with spit, a fresh bruise blooming dark and pretty under your jaw and his eyes drops to your face. You were a wreck already, cheeks flushing hot, eyes glassy and half-lidded, mouth hanging open in soft little pants. A thin string of drool had slipped from the corner of your lips, trailing slow down your chin like you’d forgotten how to swallow. Fuck. The sight punches straight through him, making his cock twitch hard against the damp front of his sweats, thickening even more until the fat head was outlined clear as day through the gray cotton.
“Jesus, sweetheart,” he rasps, voice thick and wrecked. “Look at you droolin’ for me already. Can’t even keep that pretty mouth closed.”
He leans in slow, his big hand cupping the side of your face, thumb sweeping under your lower lip to catch the mess. But instead of wiping it away he just smears it wider and then dips down and licks it up himself, tongue flat and hot dragging slowly from your chin to the corner of your mouth, tasting the sweet-salty mix of your spit and his earlier kisses. You whimper the sound coming out high and broken as he seals his scarred lips over yours again in one sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.
Tongues sliding messy and wet, no rhythm left. Just hunger. He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth with a gentle tug and then plunges back in, licking deep into your mouth like he was trying to drink every drop of you. Drool spilling between your lips, stringing down your chin again, soaking into the collar of your tank. You're making the filthiest little noises, soft, wet glucks every time his tongue licks into you and he groans low against your mouth, swallowing them all down.
“Such a messy girl,” he murmurs between kisses, nipping your tongue. “Doin’ so good though. Lettin’ me lick it all up. My sweet, sloppy baby.”
He breaks the kiss with a wet pop, a string of spit connecting your mouths for a second before it snaps and he sits back on his heels between your spread thighs. His eyes raking down your body slowly, like he was memorizing every inch. Hoodie shoved up to your tits, tank rucked under them so the soft undersides spilled out. Shorts still on but soaked dark at the crotch, clinging transparently to the plump mound of your pussy. The fat lips were printed perfect through the cotton — swollen, puffy, glossy with thick gluey slick that had leaked through your panties and was now starting to drip down the crease of your thighs, making shiny wet trails on your sheets.
Toji’s mouth waters so hard he has to swallow. His cock was rock-hard now — veined, fattened, throbbing painfully against his sweats. He palmed it once, roughly squeezed it through the fabric, just to take the edge off. The head leaking more, darkening the gray in a fat wet spot right at the tip. But he didn’t care about himself yet. Not when your pretty soaked pussy was right there, begging for his mouth.
“Fuck,” he breathes, voice strained. “Look at this messy little thing.” So sticky. So sappy. “Drippin’ all over your bed like you can’t help it.”
He hooks two thick fingers under the waistband of your shorts, slowly tugging it down your hips. You lifted for him on instinct, — a shaky little arch and he peels them off along with your drenched panties in one go. The fabric stuck for a second — clinging to your slick folds before coming free with a wet schlick. Strings of thick, glossy arousal stretching between the cotton and your pussy, snapping slow as he tosses them aside.
Your legs fell open wider, your knees bent, feet planted on the mattress and there it was; your pussymound all shiny and swollen, lips puffy and parted just enough to show the sticky pretty inside. Slick coating everything — thick, gluey strands webbing between your folds, dripping slow down to your tight little hole that clenched on nothing. Your clit was begging — fattened, flushed dark, peeking out from its hood like it was throbbing for attention. The whole thing glistened under the fairy lights — sappy, cummy, so fucking wet it looked obscene.
Toji groaned deeply, a guttural sound coming from his chest. His hands slid up your plush thighs, spreading you wider, thumbs hooking under the meat where thigh met hip so he could hold you open. Your pussy lips parted more, the sticky strings stretching, then breaking, revealing the creamy mess inside.
“Goddamn,” he whispers, almost to himself. “Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen. All swollen and leaking for me. Gonna taste every drop, baby. Gonna lick this sweet cunt clean till you’re shakin’.”
You whimper high and desperate, your hips twitching up toward his face.
He leaned in slow, his hot breath fanning over your clit first, making it jump. Then his tongue, flat and wide dragged up the entire length of your slit in one long, slow lick. From your dripping hole to the tip of your clit. Thick gluey slick coated his tongue instantly, sweet, tangy, so fucking much of it he had to swallow hard. He groaned against you, the vibration rumbling straight through your core.
“So sweet,” he praised, voice muffled as he licked again — slower this time, savoring it. “Taste like fuckin’ heaven. My good girl’s pussy all creamy and ready. Doin’ so perfect for me.”
His tongue circled your clit, with gentle flicks at first, then slower, broad laps that made your hips buck. One big hand slid up to your soft tummy, his palm spreading wide over the plush curve, holding you down gentle while his mouth worked. The other kept your thigh spread, thumb stroking soothing circles on the inner meat while he sucked your clit between his lips, a soft pull, then releasing, then pulling again.
You were moaning nonstop loud and wrecked, the sounds filling the small room. Slick gushing fresh with every lick — thick ropes of it coating his chin, dripping down his neck. He didn’t stop, just kept on lapping messy and hungry, his tongue dipping into your tight hole to scoop out more of that gluey cream, then dragging back up to suckle your clit like it was candy.
“Look at her clenchin’,” he murmured between licks, eyes flicking up to watch your face. “So tight and needy. Gonna come for me like this, yeah? Gonna let me drink all this pretty mess while you fall apart?”
His tongue plunged deeper, fucking slow into your hole, then he pulled out to circle your clit again, the hand on your tummy pressed firmer, feeling the way your muscles quivered under his palm.
“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, voice thick with praise. “Doin’ so good. Such a sweet girl lettin’ me eat this pussy. Gonna make you come so hard you soak my face. Then I’m gonna do it again. Gonna keep goin’ till you’re cryin’ my name.”
He sucked harder, his lips sealing around your clit, tongue flicking faster now and your whole body arched, your thighs shaking, hands fisting the sheets, drool slipping from your open mouth again as the pleasure coiled tight and hot in your belly.
Toji didn’t let up, he just kept licking slow and filthy, worshipfully talking you through every tremor, every gush of slick, every broken whimper.
“My perfect girl,” he rasped against your dripping cunt. “Come for me, sweetheart. Let me taste how good I make you feel.”
And with one more long, slow drag of his tongue — circling your begging clit just right — you shattered.
You came hard, harder than you ever had alone in this little bed with your fingers or with that cheap little vibe tucked in your drawer. Your whole body seized up like lightning hit your spine, thighs clamping around Toji’s head on instinct, plush hips bucking wild against his mouth while thick ropes of slick gushed straight onto his tongue. Your clit throbbing against his lips — fat, swollen, pulsing like a second heartbeat — and he didn’t pull away. Didn’t even flinch. Just groaned deep into your cunt like the taste of your orgasm was the only thing he’d been starving for all summer.
“Thaaat’s it,” he rasped, voice muffled and wrecked against your dripping folds. “Come all over my face, sweetheart. Fuck, look at her spillin’ for me. So sweet. So fuckin’ messy.”
He kept licking slow, greedy — greedy laps through the aftermath — cleaning up every fresh gush like he couldn’t bear to waste a drop. Your pussy lips were puffy and flushed dark now, glossy with spit and cum, parting easy every time his tongue nudged between them. Slick coated his chin, dripping down his scarred neck in shiny trails, soaked into the collar of his black shirt. The fairy lights caught it all — turning the mess iridescent, obscene, beautiful.
You were shaking, overstimulated already, clit so sensitive it hurt in the best way, but Toji wasn’t done. Not even close. Man-starved didn’t even cover it, he ate like he’d been denied pussy his whole life and yours was the first real meal he’d ever had. Toji after a moment hooked his fingers into the underside of his shirt and pulled it off in one fluid motion.
Then his big hands shoved your thighs wider, thumbs hooking under the crease where thigh met hip, spreading you so open your tight little hole winked at him with every clench. He pulled back just enough to look, eyes black with hunger, pupils blown wide watching the way your fattened lips trembled, the way thick gluey strings of your arousal stretched between them like spider silk every time you fluttered.
“Goddamn,” he breathed softly. “This pretty cunt’s still cryin’ for more. Look how she’s clenchin’… all tight and needy even after comin’ that hard. Fuck, baby… you’re killin’ me.”
He dove back in — lips sealing over your clit again, sucking soft at first, then harder. Wet, filthy pulls that made your hips jerk, made your back arch off the mattress until your tits spilled free from under the rucked-up tank. His tongue flicked fast over the swollen bud — quick little lashes — then slowed to broad, dragging circles that had you sobbing.
“Toj i— f-fuck — too much — s’too much — ”
“Shhh,” he soothed without stopping, voice vibrating straight through your core. “You can take it. Doin’ so good for me. My perfect girl. Just lemme taste a little more. Gotta drink every drop this sweet pussy’s givin’ me.”
He licked lower, his tongue plunging slow into your tight hole, fucking in and out with lazy thrusts that made obscene wet squelches fill the room. Your walls fluttered around him greedily, sucking at his tongue like they wanted to keep him inside forever. He groaned — deep, guttural — then pulled out just to spit right onto your clit. A thick glob of his saliva landed hot and heavy, mixing with your slick, running down your folds in slow rivulets.
You whimpered, high and broken when he blew a soft puff of air over the mess, his cool breath hitting your overheated, spit-slick clit like ice on fire. Your whole pussy jolted — clit jumping, hole clenching hard enough to push out another bead of thick cream that dripped slow down your ass.
“Fuck yeah,” he growled, watching it with dark, fascinated eyes. “Look at her twitch. Sensitive little thing. Love how she jumps when I blow on her. Gonna make her come again just like this.” You were overstimulated and shaking.
He sucked your clit back into his mouth, gently this time, lips soft around the swollen bud while his tongue lapped slow, soothing circles. One hand slid up your soft tummy, his palm spreading wide over the soft give of skin, fingers splaying to feel every quiver of your muscles. The other kept your thigh pinned, thumb stroking slow, reassuring circles on the inner skin like he was petting you through the overstimulation.
“Such a good girl,” he murmured between sucks, pulling off just long enough to speak before diving back in. “Lettin’ me eat this messy cunt even when it’s too much. Takin’ everything I give you. So pretty when you cry for me like this.”
He licked into you again, deeper this time, his tongue curling to scoop out the thickest parts of your cream, feeding it back to your pussy with slow, filthy thrusts. Then he pulled out, lips shiny, chin dripping and spat again. Right onto your hole this time. Watching it slide in, mixing with your slick until everything was glossy and obscene.
“Breathe, baby,” he cooed, blowing another soft puff over your clit, watching it throb, watching your hips buck helplessly. “Just breathe. M'gonna make you come again. Gonna suck this pretty clit till you’re soakin’ the sheets even more. Wanna see how many times I can make her gush before you’re beggin’ me to fuck you.”
Your hands flew to his hair — fingers tangling in the black strands, pulling hard enough to make him growl against you. But he loved it, loved the way you were falling apart and drooling again, spit slipping from the corner of your mouth, eyes rolling back as another wave built fast and brutal in your belly.
He sucked harder — lips sealing tight, cheeks hollowing — tongue flicking relentless over your clit while he hummed low, vibrations rumbling straight through you. His free hand pressed firmer on your tummy, feeling the way your muscles clenched, the way your whole body trembled on the edge.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he praised, voice thick and wrecked. “Give it to me. Come all over my tongue again. Let me taste how overstimulated this sweet pussy gets for me. My good girl, my perfect, messy, drippin’ girl.”
One more long, slow drag of his tongue, circling your clit just right, then plunging back into your clenching hole and you shattered again. Harder. Louder, your whole body convulsing, thighs shaking around his head, slick gushing in thick spurts that coated his mouth, his chin and the sheets beneath you.
Toji drank it all — groaning like a man possessed — licking slow through the aftershocks, soothing your twitching clit with soft kitten licks while you sobbed his name, overstimulated and wrecked and still so fucking needy for more.
He finally pulled back — lips swollen, face a mess of spit and cum, his eyes locking on yours with that dark, adoring hunger.
“Fuck, baby,” he rasped, crawling up your body slow, caging you under his broad frame. “You taste like sin. Like every filthy thing I’ve ever wanted.”
His mouth found yours, in a slow, deep kiss letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Thick fingers sliding between your thighs again and petting your soaked, puffy pussy gentle now, soothing the oversensitive folds.
“Still shakin’,” he murmured against your lips, smiling soft and filthy. “Still drippin’. Think you can take my cock now, sweetheart? Or you need me to eat this pretty cunt one more time first?”
Your answer was a broken whimper — hips canting up toward his hand, begging without words.
He chuckled low, dark and tenderly.
“That’s my girl.”
Toji had finally pulled his mouth off your wrecked pussy — lips swollen dark red, his chin still glistening with thick ropes of your slick and his spit that stretched and snapped every time he moved.
He gave you one more slow, sweet savouring kiss to your sweet little lips before crouching back down between your trembling thighs for a second longer, just staring at the mess he’d made; your fat pussy mound all shiny and puffy, lips parted and drooling slow streams of cream down your ass, onto the already soaked sheets. Your clit was a throbbing little pearl now — fattened up dark and glossy, peeking out like it was begging for one more touch even after two brutal orgasms. Your tight hole kept clenching on nothing — suckling air, pushing out fresh beads of gluey slick that made obscene wet sounds in the quiet room.
He groaned low, the sound ripping out from deep in his chest and he palmed his cock through his sweats again. Harder this time, giving it a rough squeeze that made the thick vein along the underside jump under his hand. The front of the gray fabric was wrecked — a dark wet patch spreading from the fat, leaking tip, glossy pre soaking through in thick globs that clinged to the cotton like honey. You saw the outline perfectly now; his fat fuckin’ cock all hardened up for you, swollen and heavy, curving slightly to the left, the round mushroom head so chubbed and probably flushed it looked angry.
“Fuck, look what you did to me, sweetheart,” he rasped, voice gravel-thick with want. “Got me so hard it hurts. Leakin’ like a faucet just from tastin’ this pretty cunt. You see how much pre I’m givin’ you? All for this messy little pussy.”
He shoved his sweats down slow enough to free himself, then kicked it off completely. His cock sprang out heavy the thick base dusted with dark curls of hair, shaft veined and ridged, fattened tip glossy with a fat pearl of pre that beaded at the pink slit and dripping slow down the underside. It bobbed once, smacking wet against his abs, before he wrapped one scarred hand around the middle and gave himself one lazy stroke. More pre welled up — thick and clear — dribbling over his knuckles.
Your mouth watered. Your pussy clenched hard — sappy walls fluttering, clit jumping at the sight. You were so wet still — thicker now, gluey strands webbing between your lips every time your hips twitched.
Toji crawled back up your body, slow and carefully caging you in, under his broad frame. One thick forearm braced beside your head, the other hand guiding his cock down between your thighs. He didn’t push in…not yet. Just rubbing slow, filthy drags of that fattened round tip through your glossed folds.
The head was scorching hot — swelled up so big it parted your puffy lips easy, spreading them wide around the blunt crown. Your clammy, glued pussylips sucked at him, clinging wetly every time he dragged back, strings of your slick stretching from your hole to his tip like they didn’t want to let go. He nudged your clit with the slit, smearing thick pre over the aching bud — making it throb harder, making you whimper high and broken.
“Feel that?” he murmurs, voice low and mean-teasing as he rocked slow. “Fat fuckin’ cock all hardened up just for you.” Rubbin’ right through your glossy folds. “Y’er sweet little pussy’s kissin’ me back, suckin’ on the tip like she’s tryin’ to pull me in.”
You nodded — desperately, drool slipping from your open mouth again, hips canting up to chase more friction. Your clit was so achy, fattened and sensitive, every glide of his swollen head over it sent sparks shooting up your spine.
Toji chuckled, the sound breathless and dark — then pressed firmer. The round tip notched right at your entrance, stretching the tight ring just enough to make your hole flutter and suckle greedy around him. Not inside. Just teasing…just enough to feel how hot and wet and ready you were.
“Look how she’s grippin’,” he praised, eyes locked on where your pussy lips hugged the head of his cock — clinging, glossy, dripping. “Tight little hole sucklin’ like she’s starvin’. Fuck, baby, you’re so so wet. Drippin’ all over my dick before I even get in. Such a needy girl.”
He rocked against you slowly again, dragging that fattened tip up your slit to bump your clit, then back down to nudge your hole. Pre mixed with your slick, making everything slippery, obscene, the wet schlick, schlick, schlick filling the room every time he teased. Your clit throbbed harder, achy and begging, every time the ridge of his crown caught it just right.
“Toji…please—” Your voice cracked — high, pleading. “Need it… need you inside…”
He groaned, the deep rumble vibrating through both of you, then leaned down to kiss you lovingly, slow and sweet, his tongue sliding against yours while he kept that mean, teasing rhythm; fat tip rubbing through your folds, bumping your clit, nudging your hole, spreading you open without giving you what you craved.
“Not yet, sweetheart,” he whispered against your lips, voice wrecked with restraint. “Gonna tease this sweet pussy a little longer. Wanna feel how much wetter you get. Wanna watch this fat little cunt cry for my cock till you’re shakin’ and sobbin’.”
One big hand slid under your ass, lifting your hips just enough to change the angle. Now every slow drag had his swollen tip catching right on your entrance — stretching the rim, making your walls flutter desperate around nothing. Your clit dragged along the thick underside of his shaft, veins bumping the sensitive bud, sending fresh gushes of slick coating him.
“Feel how hard I am for you?” he rasped, rocking firmer. All his thick pre leakin’ “Just thinkin’ about sinkin’ into this tight, pretty cunt. You’re so fuckin’ wet, baby. So ready. But I wanna hear you beg a little more. Wanna hear how bad my good girl needs this fat cock stretchin’ her open.”
Your hands flew to his shoulders — nails digging into hard muscle, your hips rolling up frantically to chase his teasing. Slick squelching loud between you, gluey strands clinging to his shaft, dripping down his heavy balls that brushed your ass with every rock.
“Toji… please… fuck m’need you so bad —” You were babbling now, voice wrecked, drool slipping down your chin. “Want your cock… want it deep… please —”
He smiled slow, adoringly and mean, then kissed you again, deep and claiming — while his hips kept that torturous rhythm: fat fuckin’ cock rubbing slow through your glossed folds, teasing your achy clit, nudging your suckling hole, making you drip and clench and beg for the stretch you were dying for.
“Soon, baby,” he promised, voice thick with hunger. “Gonna give you every thick inch. Gonna ruin this pretty pussy so good you’ll feel me for days. But first… keep beggin’. Keep drippin’. Show me how desperate my sweet girl is for it.”
And he kept teasing, relentless — until your whole body was trembling, pussy clenching empty and greedy, clit throbbing achy and swollen, slick pooling under your ass in a sticky puddle while he watched you fall apart under his mean, loving touch.
Toji’s hips stilled for a second, his fat, glossy cockhead still notched right at your entrance, stretching the tight ring of your hole just enough that it fluttered desperately around him. Your clammy, slick walls were sucking greedily at the swollen tip, like your pussy was trying to pull him deeper even while fighting the stretch. He was so fuckin’ thick, the round mushroom head bloated and veined, ridged crown — catching on every soft fold as he pushed forward slowly, agonizingly slow.
You gasped high and sharp the sound cracking into a whimper — back arching off the mattress, plush thighs trembling where they were hooked over his hips. Your hole clenched hard on instinct — clammy, hot and so so tight it made his breath hitch rough in his throat.
“Fuck.. easy, sweetheart,” voice low and wrecked, one big scarred hand sliding under your ass to lift your hips just a fraction higher. “You’re grippin’ me like a vice already and I’ve barely got the tip in. So fuckin’ tight… this pretty little cunt’s never taken anything this big, huh?”
You shook your head — frantic little jerks — drool slipping from the corner of your mouth again as you stared up at him with glassy, pleading eyes. Your clit was still achy and swollen from his teasing, throbbing every time the base of his shaft dragged against it on accident. Slick poured out around his tip — thick, gluey strands coating the fat crown, dripping down his heavy balls in slow, shiny rivulets.
Toji groaned gutterally, his forehead dropping to rest against yours for a second while he fought not to just slam home. His cock throbbing hard inside that tiny stretch — veins pulsing against your clenching walls, pre leaking in fat drops that mixed with your cream and made everything even messier.
“Look at you tryin’ so hard for me,” he praised, voice soft and thick with adoration even as his hips rocked in tiny, teasing nudges. “Takin’ just the tip like such a good girl. Feel how she’s suckin’ on me? Fuck…your hole’s so tight and wet, baby. Grippin’ like she don’t ever wanna let go.”
He pushed forward another fraction — barely an inch more and your pussy resisted, walls fluttering wild around the fattened ridge of his crown. The stretch burned sweet — hot, the aching fullness made your toes curl and your nails rake down his broad back. A fresh gush of slick squirted out around him, coating his shaft, dripping onto the sheets in a sticky puddle.
“Haaah —Toji ” Your voice broke, high and wrecked, hips twitching up like you couldn’t decide if you wanted more or needed a second to breathe.
“Shhh, I got you,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth gently-sweet — tongue flicking out to catch the drool on your chin. “Doin’ so perfect. So so tight for me… gonna make it fit, yeah? Gonna stretch this sweet little pussy slow till she’s huggin’ every thick inch. You’re my good girl, my perfect, drippin’ girl. Just breathe for me.”
His free hand slid up your soft tummy, his palm spreading wide over the plushness there, fingers splaying to feel the way your muscles quiver under him. He rocked again — tiny, shallow thrusts that barely moved the tip in and out, just enough to let your walls flutter and adjust around the blunt head. Every nudge made obscene wet sounds, — schlick- schlick-schlick — your slick squelching loudly around him, strings of it clinging to his veined shaft like they were trying to keep him buried.
“Feel that burn, baby?” he cooed, voice low and praising as he watched your face — eyes locking on every flutter of your lashes, every tremble of your lips. “That’s me openin’ you up. So tight it’s squeezin’ the cum right outta me… fuck, you’re leakin’ all over my cock. Such a messy, needy cunt. Love how she’s fightin’ me and still beggin’ for more.”
He pushed again — slower this time — watching with dark, hungry eyes as another inch sank in. Your hole stretched wider, your puffy lips hugging the thickest part of his crown, clinging glossy and white-knuckled around him. The stretch was obscene — your clit jumping every time the ridge dragged over it on the way in, fresh cream bubbling out to coat him.
“Haaah — fuck — there we go,” he breathed, thumb stroking slow circles over your lower belly where he could feel the faint bulge starting to form just from the tip and a little more. “Look at that… already makin’ a pretty little bump and I’m not even halfway. So fuckin’ tight, sweetheart. Takin’ me like you were made for it.”
You were sobbing softly now, broken little sounds as your hips canted up helplessly, trying to take more even as your walls spasmed around the invasion. Slick pouring steadily, thick and gluey — drenching his balls, soaking the sheets under your ass in a warm, sticky mess.
Toji leaned down and kissed you deep and slow, his tongue sliding against yours while he kept those tiny, rocking thrusts. Just the tip popping in and out, stretching you open, teasing your clenching hole, making your clit throb against the veined underside every time he pulled back.
“Doin’ so good,” he whispers into your mouth between kisses. “My sweet girl takin’ just the tip so perfectly. Gonna keep goin’ slow, gonna make it fit inch by inch till this fat cock’s buried deep where you need it. You feel how hard I am for you? How much I’m leakin’? All ‘cause this tight little pussy’s grippin’ me like she never wants me to leave.”
One more gentle push and another thick inch goes sliding in and your back bows, a moan ripping out loud and raw as your walls flutter wild around him. He stills again, letting you adjust, his forehead pressing to yours, breath ragged.
“Almost there, baby,” he praises, voice thick with restraint and adoration. “So so tight… but you’re takin’ me so good. My perfect girl. Gonna fill you up soon, m’gonna stretch this sticky hole till it’s huggin’ every veiny inch. Ahh — Just a little more… just breathe and let me make it fit.”
His thumb finds your clit, and circles over the swollen bud slow and gently while he rocks another inch in shallow, keeping you on that razor edge of stretch and pleasure. Slick gushing fresh with every tiny thrust — coating him, dripping down, making the slide just a little easier even as your pussy fights to keep him right where he is.
“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart,” he murmurs, kissing your tear-streaked cheek. “Tell me how full you are already… how much you need the rest.”
Your answer is a broken whimper, your hips rolling up desperately, pussy clenching hard around just the tip and a little more now.
“Need… need all of you… please, Toji —”
He smiles slow, filthy but so fucking tender, then kisses you again, deep and claiming while his hips started that slow, relentless push forward again.
“That’s my girl,” he rasps against your lips. “Gonna give you everything. Gonna make this tight little cunt take every thick inch till you’re cryin’ and comin’ all over me.”
And inch by torturous inch he keeps making it fit. Slow. Sweet. Praising you through every clench, every gush, every trembling stretch until your pussy finally starts to yield — walls fluttering open, sucking him deeper, greedily and wrecked and so so ready for the rest.
Then Toji’s patience snapped like a thin wire, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest as his big scarred hands clamped around your soft waist. No warning. No gentle coaxing. Just raw, starving need. He grabs your little body like it was his to manhandle, his rough palms digging into your plush hips, flipping you onto your side in one swift yank that made the mattress springs squeak protest.
“Fuck ah I-I can’t take it anymore,” he rasps, voice thick and wrecked. “Need to go deeper. Need this tight cunt stuffed full, m’gonna make her take every fuckin’ inch now.”
He drags you down the bed, the sheets tangling around your ankles, until your ass hangs off the edge just enough, cheeks jiggling from the rough pull. Your face mashed into the rumpled comforter — cheek smushing against the soft fabric, drool already pooling under your agape mouth. One hand flew out on instinct, your fingers clutching the fluffy stuffed bear you keep on the pillow (the one with the little bow tie you’d had since middle school), knuckles white as you gripped it like a lifeline while your body arches helplessly.
Toji presses your legs together, his thick thighs pressing your plush ones tight, forcing your chubby little cunt to pucker even more obscenely. Your fat pussy lips squished together now, glossy and swollen, the plump folds mashed into one slick, puffy seam that barely parts for the fat pink tip still teasing your entrance. The position makes everything tighter — your gummy walls clenching harder, clit trapped between those squeezed-together lips, throbbing achy and trapped against the pressure.
He lines up, his veined, thick cock — throbbing heavy in his fist — and pushes in.
No slow tease this time.
The fat crown spears past your puckered entrance with a wet, filthy pop — stretching those mashed-together lips wide around his girth. Your hole sucking greedily and clenching so tight it made his eyes roll back, but he doesn’t stop. Just keeps feeding inch after thick, veined inch into your poor stuffed cunt, the squeeze so intense it forces thick ropes of your gooey cream to bubble out around him, coating his shaft in shiny white strands that drip slow down your inner thighs.
“Haah… fuck — listen to her,” he groans, hips snapping forward harder now that the angle let him sink deeper. “This chubby little cunt’s cryin’ so loud for me. Squeezin’ like she’s scared I’ll pull out… but she’s suckin’ me right back in. Fuckin’ perfect.”
You wail high, lewd and broken, your cries muffled into the mattress — voice cracking every time his cock punches deeper. Never been fucked like this, with legs squeezed shut making your pussy feel impossibly smaller, every ridge and vein dragging slow and mean along your gummy walls. Your fat lips puckering tight around his base — stretching thin and glossy, clinging desperately like they were made to mold to his shape. The pressure mashes your clit right against the thick underside of his shaft — rubbing it raw with every brutal thrust, sending sparks shooting up your spine until your toes curl hard.
Toji loses it completely.
Big hands gripping your hips — fingers sinking into soft flesh hard enough to bruise, and he starts pounding. Deep, mean strokes that bottoming out with a wet slap every time his heavy balls smacks your clit. Precum and your thick cream mixing into a frothy mess squirting out around his cock with every pull-back, dripping in sticky webs down your thighs, soaking the edge of the bed where your ass hangs off.
“Goddamn, look at this mess you’re makin’,” he pants, voice rough and praising all at once. “Gooey little pussy just spillin’ everywhere f’me. So fuckin’ cute how she’s creamin’ all over my dick… takin’ it so deep even when she’s squeezes this tight. My good girl…my filthy, drippin’ girl.”
Your cries turn desperate — muffled sobs into the stuffed bear you are clutching, tears streaking hot down your cheeks. Every thrust punches the air out of your lungs, his cockhead kissing your cervix mean and relentless, stretching your gummy walls wide around his veined thickness. Your clit rubs mercilessly against him — trapped between those puckered lips, swollen and throbbing, building that coil tighter and tighter until your whole body shakes.
“Feel that?” he growles, leaning over you, his broad chest pressing to your back, sweat-slick skin sliding against yours. One hand slides up to cup your soft tummy — palm pressing down so he can feel the bulge of his cock moving inside you. “Feel how deep I am, baby? Stuffin’ this chubby cunt so full she’s leakin’ like a faucet. Gonna make you come like this.” legs squeezed tight, clit rubbed raw and pussy stretched mean around every thick inch of his.
He snaps his hips harder, the angle perfect now, his cock dragging right over that spongy spot inside while his shaft grinds against your trapped clit. Slick squelches loud and obscene, wet slaps filling the room, your gooey cream frothing white at the base of his cock, dripping in thick strands every time he pulls back.
You shatter hard.
Whole body convulsing, walls clamping down like a vice around his pounding cock, milking him greedily as you scream into the mattress. Fresh gushes of slick squirting out around him, hot and messy, soaking his balls, drenching the sheets, making every thrust even sloppier. Your clit throbs wild against him — overstimulated and raw, sending aftershocks after aftershock rippling through you until your legs shake uncontrollably.
Toji groans deep and feral, his hips stuttering as your pussy sucks him in tight.
“Fuck… Aaah yeah, come on my cock, sweetheart,” he praises, voice breaking with how close he was. “Squeezin’ so fuckin’ tight… makin’ such a cute mess f’er me. Good girl, my perfect, pretty girl. Gonna fill this stuffed cunt up soon… gonna pump you so full you’ll be leakin’ me for days.”
He didn’t stop, Toji kept fucking you through it, with mean, deep thrusts that made your ass jiggle, made your cries turn hoarse and wrecked. His veined cock dragged slow and filthy through your fluttering walls — still so tight from your legs squeezed together and clit still rubbing helpless against him with every slam.
“Haah mhnm fuck…m’not done yet,” he rasps, hand sliding down to spread one cheek, exposing where you were stretched obscene around him. “Gonna keep, ah goin’. Gonna ruin this pretty pussy till she’s cryin’ for more… till you’re so full of cum you can’t move.”
And he did — pounding harder, deeper, meaner all while you clutched your stuffed bear tighter, face buried in the mattress, drooling and sobbing and coming undone again and again around his thick cock that finally fit all the way inside your chubby, gooey, perfect little cunt.
Toji’s hips roll in one long, deliberate drag — pulling back just enough that his thick, veined cock starts to slip free from your stuffed little hole. Your sloppy pussy doesn't want to let go. Gummy walls clenching down hard — squeezin’ greedy around every ridge and bump like they’re scared he’d leave you empty. His foreskin bunches up soft and slick around the fattened base of his crown as he withdraws — pink tip glistening obscene with a thick coat of your cream and his own sappy pre, strings of it stretching taut between your puffy lips and his shaft before snapping wetly against your inner thighs.
You whine high and utterly broken, face mashed deeper into the mattress, your cheek smushed against the soft fur of your stuffed bear, fingers clutching the little plush thing so tight the seams strained. Drool still pooling under your slacked maw, soaking the fabric while your hips twitch back helplessly, chasing the stretch even as he teases you with the slow retreat.
“Fuck haah… listen to that,” he rasps, voice low and filthy-thick with awe. “This nasty lil’ pussy’s makin’ the sloppiest sounds just ‘cause I’m pullin’ out. Squelchin’ like she’s beggin’ me to stay buried. So fuckin’ greedy, baby.”
He didn’t let you go empty for long.
Right when the fat pink tip was almost out — your hole fluttering desperately around the ridge, he leaned over you again, his broad chest pressing hot to your back — and spat. A thick, heavy glob of spit landing right on your stretched entrance — hot and messy — sliding down the puffy seam of your mashed-together pussylips before dripping slow into the clenching ring still hugging his crown, the added slick made everything even nastier, your syrup-thick cream mixing with his spit, bubbling white and frothy where your walls gripped him.
Toji groans deep, a rumble that vibrates straight through you as he pushes forward again. Slow and mean, feeding every thick inch back into your pussy until his hips slapped flush against your ass, his balls heavy and wet smacking your clit trapped between those squeezed thighs. Your pussy sucking him in greedy — gummy walls fluttering wild, clinging so tight it made his eyes roll back.
“Haah…there we go,” he praises, hands clamping harder on your soft waist — fingers sinking into plush flesh like you really are his personal fleshlight, something soft and warm and perfect to use. “Takin’ me all the way again. Feel how deep I am, sweetheart?” His cockhead now kissin’ your cervix… mngh “Stretchin’ this sloppy hole wide. God your pussy’s so fuckin’ good. So tight even after all that cream you just gushed.”
He drew back again slowly and torturous, watching the way your fat pussylips dragged along his veined shaft, clinging glossy and swollen, trying to keep him inside. Nasty lil’ squelches filling the room — wet, obscene pops every time he pulls out halfway — your syrup-thick pussy noisily protesting, cream bubbling out in thick white rings around his base, dripping slow down your inner thighs in sticky trails that soaked the edge of the mattress.
Your sobbing is muffled into the stuffed bear, your whole body trembling as he manhandles you deeper into the bed. One big hand slides up your spine — pushing your face firmer into the comforter, while the other grips your waist harder, yanking your hips back to meet every slow, punishing thrust. He spreads your fat pussylips wider with his thumbs — peeling them apart even as your legs stay squeezed tight together — exposing the glossy pink inside where his thick cock splits you open.
“Look at her stretch,” he growls, voice wrecked with how good it feels. Your plump lil’ lips puckering so tight around him… huggin’ every veiny inch like she was made for his cock. “Fuck mhng baby, you’re ruinin’ me. This pussy’s too perfect… too sloppy… too fuckin’ tight.”
He bottoms out again, harder this time, his cockhead bullying deep until you feel that familiar bulge in your lower tummy, the faint swell under his palm when he presses down. Your clit rubbed raw against the underside of his shaft — trapped and throbbing — every drag sending fresh sparks through your overstimulated nerves until your thighs shake uncontrollably.
Toji didn’t speed up. Didn’t rush. Just kept that slow, deep pace — drawing back until only the fat tip stretched your entrance, then sinking all the way in with one long, filthy glide. Each pull-out made your pussy squelch louder — cream frothing white at his base, dripping in thick ropes — each push-in forcing more of your gooey slick to bubble out around him, coating his balls, soaking your ass cheeks, turning everything into a warm, sticky mess.
“God mhm feel that?” he rasps, leaning down to nip the shell of your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “How your pussy’s clenchin’ every time I try to pull out? Squeezin’ like she doesn't ever wanna be empty. My good girl… my perfect, drippin’ girl. Takin’ this thick cock so deep… makin’ such cute, nasty noises for me.”
His hands tighten on your waist — using you like he owns you — pulling your hips back to meet every slow, punishing thrust while he grounds deeper, letting the fat crown drag over that spongy spot inside until your cries turn hoarse and wrecked. Your stuffed bear was crushed against your chest now, your fingers white-knuckled and face buried so deep in the mattress you could barely breathe around the drool and tears.
He spat again, a thick glob landing right where you were stretched widest around him — watching it slide in, mixing with the mess until everything was even slicker and messier.
“Not stoppin’,” he promises, voice low and filthy-sweet. “Gonna keep fuckin’ this little pussy… till she’s cryin’ and cumin’ again. Till you’re so full of my cum you can’t move, doll Till every time I pull out you’re squirtin’ that syrup-thick cream all over me.”
One more long, slow drag out and your pussy noisily protests with wet, lewd squelches, then he sinks back in deep, bottoming out with a wet slap that made your ass jiggle, clit grind hard against him, walls fluttering wild around every thick, veined inch of his.
“Haah…fuck t-there’s my girl,” he groans, kissing the back of your neck soft and filthy. “Takin’ it so good… makin’ me lose my fuckin’ mind. Gonna keep usin’ you just like this… slow… aah… till you’re nothin’ but a creamy, shakin’ mess for me.”
And he did, he kept that torturous rhythm, his hands bruising your waist, cock stretching your sloppy hole wide, foreskin bunched… slick, spit and cream mixing into the nastiest mess while you clutch your stuffed toy for dear life, sobbing his name into the mattress, pussy clenching greedily and wrecked around his thick cock that owned you completely.
Toji’s hips stayed buried deep, his thick cock throbbing hot and heavy inside your stuffed pussy, every veiny inch hugged so tight by your gummy walls that pulling out even an inch felt like fighting gravity. But he didn’t need to thrust right now. Not when he had you exactly where he wanted; face-down, ass-up on the edge of your bed, legs squeezed shut, chubby pussy lips puckered and swollen around the base of his shaft like a glossy, creamy ring. Your pretty little hole was still fluttering around him — suckling greedily on every ridge, even after the last brutal orgasm ripped through you, leaving your thighs trembling and slick dripping in slow, syrupy ropes down the insides of your legs.
He leaned over you, his broad chest pressing hot to your back, sweat-slick skin sliding against yours, until his scarred lips brushed the shell of your ear. One big hand stayed clamped on your soft waist, fingers digging possessive bruises into plush flesh, while the other slid down between your squeezed-together thighs. Rough callused fingertips found your puffed-out clit immediately — swollen, fat and glossy from all the rubbing, peeking out from between those mushed puffy lips like a needy little button begging for more.
“Fuck haah… look at this messy thing,” voice low and wrecked with hunger. “So puffed up… so gooey and sappy from comin’ all over my cock. Can’t even hide how bad she wants it.”
His fingers started moving in filthy, lazy circles right over your swollen bud. Not fast. Not rough. Just slow, perfect rubs that made your clit jump and throb under the pad of his middle finger. He smeared your own thick cream around it — mixing it with the frothy white ring still clinging to his base — making every glide slicker, hotter, nastier. Your pussy clenched hard around his buried cock in response — walls fluttering wild, milking him greedy even though he wasn’t moving yet.
You whimper high, the broken sound muffled into the stuffed bear you were still clutching like it could save you from how good it felt. Drool soaked the plush's fur, tears streaking hot down your cheeks, whole body shaking as those filthy circles kept coming — round n’ round, a slow pressure that built the ache back up fast.
“Haah… m’can’t stop touchin’ you, baby,” he groaned against your neck, nipping the soft skin where he’d already left dark bruises. “Even if I tried… fuck, this little clit’s too perfect. So fat and slippery… jumpin’ every time I rub right here.”
He pressed firmer, his middle finger circling tighter now, thumb hooking under to spread your puffy lips just enough to expose more of that sensitive pearl. The motion dragging his cock the tiniest bit inside you — barely a rock, just enough to let the fat crown nudge your spongy spot while his fingers worked your clit relentlessly. Fresh slick gushed out around him, thick and syrupy — coating his hand, dripping down his wrist in warm rivulets that soaked into the sheets.
Your hips bucked back helplessly, your ass jiggling against his pelvis, trying to grind into his touch even as your pussy clenched tighter around the thick intrusion splitting you open. Every filthy circle sent sparks shooting straight up your spine, your clit throbbed so hard it hurt in the sweetest way, walls spasming around his cock like they were trying to pull him even deeper.
“Goddamn…ya feel that?” he murmured, voice thick with praise and filth. “How your cunt ’s grippin’ me every time I rub this pretty clit? Squeezin’ like she’s beggin’ for more even though she’s already stuffed full. My good girl… my perfect, drippin’ mess. Look how she’s leakin’ just from my fingers. So fuckin’ sensitive.”
He sped up just a fraction, circles turning tighter, faster. The pad of his finger flicking quick over the swollen tip of your clit before smoothing back into those slow, filthy loops. Your cries turned desperate, hoarse and wrecked, sobs muffled into the bear as your thighs shook harder, pussy fluttering wild around his cock. Thick cream bubbled out with every clench — frothing white at his base, dripping in sticky strands that clung to his heavy balls.
Toji groaned deep and feral, his hips finally rocking once, a slow, deep grind that dragged every veined inch along your gummy walls while his fingers never stopped. The dual sensation punched the air out of your lungs, clit rubbed raw and throbbing, cunt stretched wide and filled to the brim.
“Can’t get enough of touchin’ you,” he confessed, voice breaking with how wrecked he was. “This puffed-out little clit… so gooey and sappy… jumpin’ under my fingers like it’s alive. Fuck…baby, you’re gonna come again just like this. Gonna make this fat pussy squirt all over my hand while I’m still buried balls-deep.”
He pinched your clit gently, rolling it between thumb and finger, then went right back to those filthy circles, smearing more of your cream around the swollen bud until it glistened obscene under the fairy lights. Your whole body seized, your back arching hard, ass pressing back desperately against him, your narrow walls clamping down like a vice around his thick cock.
“That’s it ahh…come for me again,” he praised, lips brushing your ear, breath hot and ragged. “Let me feel this pussy milk me while I rub this pretty clit raw. My sweet girl… my filthy, pretty girl… gush for me, baby. Show me how much you love it when I can’t stop touchin’ you.”
One more tight, filthy circle pressed hard right over the tip and you shatter.
Whole body convulsing, pussy clamping down brutally around his cock, walls fluttering wild as thick spurts of slick squirted out around him, hot and messy — soaking his hand, drenching his thighs, pooling warm under your ass on the already wrecked sheets. Your clit throbbed helplessly under his fingers, overstimulated and raw, sending aftershock after aftershock ripping through you until your legs gave out completely.
Toji didn’t pull his hand away. Just kept those slow, soothing circles, gentler now — petting your puffed-out clit through the tremors while his cock stays buried deep, throbbing hard inside your fluttering, creamy cunt.
“Haah…fuck…there’s my girl,” he sighs, kissing the back of your neck soft and filthy. “Comin’ so hard just from my fingers… makin’ such a cute, sloppy mess. Can’t stop touchin’ you, baby. Not when this little clit’s still jumpin’ for me… not when your pussy’s still grippin’ me like she never wants me to stop.”
He rocked once, letting you feel every thick inch while his fingers kept circling lazy, keeping you right on that overstimulated edge.
“Gonna keep goin’,” he promises, voice low and wrecked with adoration. “Gonna keep rubbin’ this pretty clit… keep fuckin’ you slow… till you’re cryin’ and squirting again. Till you’re nothin’ but a shakin’, creamy mess for me. My perfect girl… my filthy little thing… all mine.”
And he did, his fingers never stopping those filthy circles, cock grinding deep and slow, turning you into a drooling, trembling puddle while your stuffed bear stayed clutched tight in your shaking hands, soaked with tears and drool and the endless proof of how good he made you feel.
Toji’s cock was buried to the hilt, his thick-veined base flush against your swollen puffy lips, heavy balls pressed hot to your clit like they belonged there. Your little fat pussy was stretched obscene around him, your gummy walls parted wide, clinging desperate to every ridged inch like they’d forgotten how to close. You were gaped already, your poor hole fluttering open every time he stayed still too long, the rim puffy and flushed dark pink, glistening with thick layers of your syrupy cream and his endless pre. Slick dripping steady from where you were joined, slow, sticky ropes that clung to his shaft, webbing down to his balls, pooling warm under your ass on the wrecked sheets.
You were shaking, whole body trembling, face still mashed into the mattress, drool soaking the stuffed bear you clutched like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. Your cries had turned hoarse, soft and wrecked whimpering every time his cock throbbed deep inside, nudging that spongy spot that made your toes curl and your tummy quiver.
He groans low, the sound ripping from his chest like it hurt to feel how tight you still were even after all the pounding, big scarred hands gripped your soft waist harder, his fingers sinking into plush flesh, holding you exactly where he wanted while he started to pull out.
Slow.
Agonizingly slow.
The drag was filthy, every veined inch sliding free with wet, obscene schlicks that filled the room. Your pussy lips dragged along his shaft, puffy and glossy, clinging greedily like they didn’t want to let go. The fat pink crown caught on your rim, stretching it wider one last time before popping free with a lewd, sucking pop. Your hole gaped open immediately, pink and wrecked, fluttering helplessly around nothing, thick strings of cream stretching from your entrance to his dripping tip like obscene bridges before snapping wet against your inner thighs.
“Haah…fuck…look at that,” he said disbelieving,“This little hole’s gaped so pretty for me… still clenchin’ like she’s missin’ me already. So fuckin’ sloppy, baby. Drippin’ everywhere just ‘cause I pulled out.”
You whimpered, hips twitching back instinctively, chasing the emptiness even as your walls fluttered wild. But Toji wasn’t done teasing.
He lined up again, the fat tip nudging your gaping entrance, smearing thick pre over the stretched rim, then he pushed.
Deeper.
Harder.
One long, brutal glide that sank every thick inch back inside until his hips slapped flush against your ass, cockhead bullying past your cervix, stirring your guts up in that dizzying, overwhelming way that made your eyes roll back. You felt him everywhere. Hot, heavy fullness stretching from your stuffed hole all the way up like he was rearranging you from the inside. Your tummy bulged faintly under his palm when he pressed down, feeling the outline of his cock moving deep, claiming every inch of your soft insides.
“Fuuuck…there it is,” he growled, hips grinding slow circles now, letting you feel him throb against your deepest walls. “Feel me in your throat, sweetheart? Stirrin’ up your guts… makin’ this pretty pussy taking me so deep she’s cryin’. My good girl… my perfect, stretched-out girl.”
Your cries turning guttural and raw, sounds muffled into the bear as he starts thrusting again, long punishing strokes that pull almost all the way out every time, only to slam back in deeper, harder, stirring your insides into a gooey, creamy mess. Slick squirting out with every pull-back, thick and white-frothed, coating his shaft, dripping down your thighs in warm rivers that soaked everything beneath you.
Then his thick thumb found your tight puckered asshole.
He didn’t ask…Didn’t tease.
Just pressed the blunt pad right against your clenched ring — hot, callused pressure that made your whole body jolt. Your hole fluttering instinctive, tight and untouched, trying to push him out even as your pussy clenched harder around his pounding cock.
“Shhh…relax for me, baby,” he murmured, voice low and filthy-sweet against your ear. ‘m'gonna plug this pretty little hole too. Keep you so full… till you’re shakin’ and sobbin’ for me.”
He pushes in so…so carefully, his thick thumb breaching the tight ring with a soft pop. The stretch burning sweet… the foreign fullness made your back arch hard, ass pushing back desperately onto both intrusions. Your asshole clamping down greedily around his thumb, sucking him into the first knuckle, while your pussy flutters wildly around his thick cock, walls spasming so hard it milks another thick spurt of pre deep inside you.
“Haah…fuck y-yeah,” he groans, thumb sinking deeper, and a slow twist of his thumb... has your hole clenching and fluttering around him. “Takin’ my thumb so good… tight little ass huggin’ me just like your pussy. Feel that? Both holes ngh stuffed f-full”… his cock stirrin’ your guts, thumb pluggin’ up your pretty asshole. “You’re mine, baby. All fuckin’ mine.”
He starts moving — thumb rocking shallow in time with his deep thrusts, cock slamming home every time his thumb pushes in, pulling out together in a filthy rhythm that makes your whole body rock forward into the mattress. Your clit rubbed raw against the sheets now — trapped and throbbing — every grind sending fresh sparks through your overstimulated nerves until tears streamed hot down your cheeks.
Your cries were nonstop, hoarse, wrecked sobs into your stuffed bear, your body trembling violently as he fucked you deeper, thumb plugging your ass, cock stretching your gaped pussy wide. Slick gushing with every thrust, thick, creamy ropes squirting out around his base, soaking his hand where it worked your plugged hole, drenching the bed in a warm, sticky puddle.
“God…look at you,” he praised, voice breaking with how close he was. “Takin’ everything… Such a good girl… my girl. Gonna make you come like this… gonna feel you milk me till I’m pumpin’ you full.”
He ground deeper, thumb twisting slow inside your tight ass, bulbous cockhead bullying your cervix, stirring everything up until the pressure coiled unbearable in your belly.
“Come for me, baby.” he says softly, lips brushing your tear-streaked cheek gently.
One more deep, brutal thrust, thumb sinking to the base, cock slamming home fully and you shattered.
Whole body convulsing, pussy clamping like a vice around his thick shaft, asshole fluttering wild around his thumb, clit throbbing helpless against the friction. Thick spurts of slick squirts out around him — hot and messy — soaking everything as you scream his name into the bear, tears and drool mixing on the sheets.
Toji goes all breathless, hips stuttering as your walls milked him ruthlessly.
“Fuck...yeah…take it, baby,” he pants, grinding deep through your orgasm. “Gonna come… gonna fill this pretty little cunt… gonna plug you so full you’ll feel me for days.”
And with one last deep thrust, thumb buried in your ass, cock throbbing hot and heavy inside your stuffed, creamy hole he starts to spill. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your gummed walls — pulse after pulse — stirring your insides even more as he keeps grinding slow, keeping you plugged front and back while you shook and sobbed and came undone completely around him.
And Toji Zenin still wasn’t done touching you.
Not by a long shot.
Toji finally eased his thumb out of your twitching little asshole, slow and careful, letting the tight ring flutter shut with a soft, wet sound that made your whole body shiver one last time. His cock slipped free next, his thick length dragging along your ruined walls until the fat crown popped out with a lewd, sucking pop. A hot gush of cum followed immediately, thick, creamy ropes spilling from your gaping pussy in slow, obscene waves, dripping down your inner thighs, pooling sticky and warm beneath your ass on the already-soaked sheets.
You were trembling, completely spent, limbs heavy and breath coming in shaky little pants, face still buried halfway into the rumpled comforter with drool stringing from the corner of your swollen lips. Your stuffed bear was crushed, forgotten against your chest, fur matted and damp from tears and spit and everything else.
Toji didn’t move away.
He rolled you gently, almost tenderly — onto your back, big scarred hands sliding under your soft thighs and waist to lift you like you weighed nothing. He settled between your spread legs again, kneeling tall over you, sweat-glistening chest heaving while he looked down at the absolute mess he’d made of his pretty girl.
Your pussy was wrecked, lips puffy and dark, gaping open just enough to show the creamy white mess inside, clit still swollen and flushed, twitching with aftershocks. Cum leaked out in lazy pulses, mixing with your own slick, running in glossy trails down your perineum.
But his eyes softened when they reached your face.
All tear-streaked cheeks, glassy eyes, puffy lips still shining with spit.
“My pretty girl,” he murmured, voice low and wrecked but so fucking gentle now it made your chest ache.
He leaned down slow, his big heated body blanketing yours without crushing you and cups your face in both rough palms. Thumbs brushed away the fresh tears clinging to your lashes, smearing them gently across your flushed skin.
Toji didn’t pull out.
Not even a little.
He stayed buried to the root, his thick, heavy cock throbbing slow and deep inside your stuffed cunt, every veiny inch hugged so tight by your gummy walls it felt like your pussy had forgotten how to exist without him filling it. The fat pink crown was pressed right up against your cervix — hot, insistent pressure that made your tummy flutter every time his heartbeat pulsed through the shaft. Cum was already leaking — thick, sticky ropes of it flooding your insides from the last brutal spill, so much that you could feel the warm, syrupy weight of it pooling deep in your guts, pressing against your walls like liquid heat.
Your poor hole was gaped just enough around his base, puffy lips stretched thin and glossy, clinging desperate to the thickest part of him like they were scared he’d slip free. But he wasn’t going anywhere, he just held you there, his hips flush to your ass, one big scarred hand splayed wide over your soft tummy so he could feel the faint swell where his cock and all that cum was making you bulge ever so slightly from the inside.
“Shhh… just like this, sweetheart,” he murmured low against the back of your neck, lips brushing damp skin in soft, lazy kisses. “Just cock warming. No more fuckin’ right now. Gonna let this pretty pussy soak in every drop I gave her… keep her nice and full, yeah?”
You whimpered — soft, a wrecked little sound muffled into the stuffed bear still clutched tight to your chest. Your whole body was trembling, overstimulated, oversensitive, thighs quivering where they were still squeezed shut and held down beneath his weight. Slick and cum mixed into a warm, sticky mess between you, dripping slowly out around his base in thick, pearly strands that clung to your inner thighs, soaking the sheets in a warm puddle that smelled like sex and him and you all tangled together.
He shifted then, just a tiny rock of his hips, not thrusting, just enough to let his cock stir the cum inside you. The movement made a wet, filthy squelch, your walls fluttering greedy around him, milking another thick bead of leftover seed that oozed deeper into your guts. You felt it, hot and slippery coating every inch of your gummy insides, threatening to drool out if he moved too much, but he didn’t. He just held you closer — arm banding around your waist, palm pressing firmer over that soft little bulge in your tummy like he was proud of how full he’d made you.
“Look how cute you are,” he whispered, voice rough and tender all at once. “Face all flushed… droolin’ on your lil’ bear… pussy so full of my cum she’s practically purring. My pretty girl… my perfect girl.”
He turned your face gently with scarred fingers under your chin, tilting you just enough so he could lean over your shoulder and kiss you slow. Soft at first — scarred lips brushing yours, tasting the salt of your tears and the cherry gloss long smeared away. Then deeper, tongue sliding lazy against yours, swallowing every tiny whimper you gave him while his cock stayed perfectly still inside you, just throbbing, just warming, just owning.
You moaned into his mouth, a soft and needy sound as another warm trickle of cum leaked out around his base, sliding slow down your puffy lips. Your clit still swollen and achy, brushed the underside of his shaft with every tiny shift, sending little aftershocks through your core that made your walls flutter and clench around him again.
“Haah…fuck — there she goes,” he groaned against your lips, kissing you deeper, filthier. “Clenchin’ so sweet even when she’s just holdin’ me. Feel all that cum sloshin’ around inside you? So warm… so sticky… gonna keep it all plugged up in there till it’s leakin’ out slow outta you.”
His free hand slid up and cupped the side of your face, thumb stroking slow over your tear-streaked cheek while he kissed you again and again. Forehead pressed to yours now, breath mingling hot and ragged, his green eyes dark and soft as he stared down at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
“You’re so fuckin’ cute like this,” he murmured, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead — lingering, reverent. “All hugged up on my cock… pussy threatenin’ to drool my cum everywhere but still grippin’ me so tight. My good girl… my sweet, stuffed girl. Just stay like this for me, yeah? Let me keep you warm… let me feel how full I made you.”
He rocked once, barely a movement, just a slow grind that stirred the thick load inside you without pulling out. More cum bubbled out hot and slippery coating your puffy lips, dripping slow down to where your clit throbbed against him. You whimpered high and broken — hips twitching instinctively even though you were too spent to chase anything.
Toji shushed you gently, lips brushing your temple, your cheek, your mouth again in soft, endless kisses.
“Just this. Just me inside you… keepin’ all that cum nice and warm where it belongs. My pretty girl… my perfect little thing… all hugged up and full for me.”
He wrapped both arms around you then, pulling your soft body back flush to his chest, cock still buried deep, still throbbing slow, still leaking the last drops into your stuffed, creamy pussy. Forehead kisses rained down, soft, sweet and lazy in the best way, while he held you close, letting you feel every heartbeat through his shaft, every warm pulse of cum settling deeper inside you.
“Stay just like this,” he whispered one last time, lips lingering on your forehead. “My cute, sweet girl… mine.”
And he didn’t move.
Just held you there — thick cock warming your poor, gaped, cum-stuffed pussy while you trembled and whimpered and clung to your bear, face buried in his neck, soaking in the sticky, overwhelming heat of being so perfectly, completely full of him.
Toji’s arms locked around your waist like steel bands, scarred hands splaying wide over the soft curve of your lower belly, fingers digging in just enough to bruise the plush skin as he yanked you down hard, with no warning. No slow descent. Just raw, possessive force that slammed your dripping pussy all the way onto his thick, throbbing cock in one brutal, claiming drop.
The stretch hit like lightning — your poor gaped hole, forced to swallow every last veiny inch at once, walls parting wide around the fattened girth until his heavy balls slapped wet against your clit and the fat pink crown punched right up against the deepest part of your cervix again. You felt it everywhere — hot, overwhelming fullness stretching from your stuffed entrance all the way up into your guts, making your tummy bulge visibly under his palm where he pressed down firmly to feel himself buried inside you.
“Haah…f-fuck — there it is,” he growled low against the shell of your ear, voice wrecked and deep, breath scorching your neck. “Takin’ every thick fuckin’ inch, sweetheart. All of it. No more teasin’. Just my cock stuffed deep where it belongs.”
Your cry ripped out raw and broken — high, desperate wails muffled into the crook of his shoulder as your body jolted from the sudden depth. Your gummy walls fluttered wild around him, clenching helpless. Spasming like they couldn’t decide if they wanted to push him out or suck him deeper. Slick and leftover cum from before gushed out around his base in thick, creamy ropes,frothing white at the stretch, dripping slow down his heavy sack in warm, sticky trails that soaked into the sheets beneath you both.
He didn’t let you adjust. Just held you there, impaled, trembling, your pussy clenching greedily around the full length of him — while one hand slid up to fist in your hair, yanking your head back gently but firm so he could see your face. Tears streaked hot down your cheeks, lips swollen and parted in endless soft whimpers, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth again like you’d forgotten how to swallow.
“Look at you,” he says proudly, green eyes dark and blown with hunger as he stared down at where your puffy lips were stretched thin and glossy around his base — clinging so tight the rim looked almost white-knuckled. “My pretty girl takin’ everything… pussy so full she’s shakin’. Feel that? Feel how deep I am?” His cockhead kissin’ your womb and stirrin’ up all that cum he already pumped in you.
He rocked his hips once, a slow grinding roll that dragged every ridge along your fluttering walls without pulling out. The motion made a wet, filthy squelch, your stuffed pussy protesting the fullness even as it clenched harder, milking him greedy. More thick cream bubbled out — syrupy and white — coating his shaft, dripping down to where your clit throbbed helpless against the veined underside.
“Nngh…Toji —” Your voice cracked,hoarse and wrecked, nails raking down his broad back again, leaving red trails over hard muscle. “S’too much… s’too deep —”
“Shhh, I know, baby,” he murmured, scarred lips brushing your tear-streaked cheek in soft, filthy kisses. “Doin’ so good though. Takin’ this fat cock like you were made for it. Feel how your pussy’s grippin’ me? Squeezin’ like she don’t ever wanna let go. My perfect girl… my sweet girl.”
He pulled you down harder, another sharp yank that seated him impossibly deeper, crown bullying against that spongy spot inside until your back bowed, thighs trembling violently around his hips. Your clit grinding raw against his pelvis — swollen and achy — every tiny shift sending sparks shooting through your core that made your walls flutter and clench harder around him.
Toji groaned deep, the guttural sound vibrating straight through you, then wrapped both arms around your waist, crushing your soft body to his chest. One hand slid down to cup your ass, fingers spreading the plush cheeks wide so he could feel where you were stretched obscene around him, while the other pressed firm over that faint bulge in your tummy, thumb stroking slow circles over the spot where he could feel himself moving inside.
“Fuck…look at this,” he breathed, voice thick with praise and filth. “My cock makin’ a pretty little bump right here… fillin’ you up so good you can see it. Gonna keep you right here… just like this”… Cock-warmin’ you deep while he kisses your sweet mouth.
He tilted your chin up, scarred thumb brushing your swollen bottom lip, then claimed your mouth in a slow, filthy kiss. Tongue sliding deep, tasting the salt of your tears and the cherry gloss long gone, swallowing every broken whimper you gave him while his cock throbbed hot and heavy inside your stuffed pussy. No thrusting. Just deep, possessive grinding — tiny rolls of his hips that stirred the thick load of cum already flooding your cunt, making it slosh warm and sticky against your walls.
You moaned into his mouth, soft needy sounds, as another warm trickle leaked out around his base, sliding slow down your puffy lips to where your clit pulsed against him. Your pussy clenching helpless and fluttering wild — threatening to drool more of that creamy mess if he moved even a little, but he didn’t. Just held you impaled, full, trembling, while he kissed you deeper, tongue fucking slow into your mouth in the same lazy rhythm his cock was grinding inside you.
“So fuckin’ cute,” he whispers against your lips between kisses, forehead pressing to yours, breath mingling hot and ragged. “All hugged up on my dick… pussy so full she’s shakin’. My pretty girl… my perfect little thing… takin’ everything I give her. Gonna stay just like this… keep you warm and stuffed… let you feel everything while I kiss you stupid.”
Wanting to feel you constantly, he kept pressing soft kisses to your forehead, then your temple, to your cheek and your mouth again — endless, filthy affection while his arms stayed locked around you, cock buried to the hilt, cum sloshing warm and sticky deep inside your gaped, creamy pussy.
“Mine,” he murmured one last time, lips brushing your forehead in a final, claiming kiss. “All fuckin’ mine.”
And he didn’t move.
Just held you there, thick cock warming your stuffed, trembling pussy, while you whimpered and clung and soaked in the overwhelming heat of being so completely, perfectly taken.
The room had gone quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan stirring the thick summer air, fairy lights flickering lazy gold across the rumpled sheets like dying embers. You were out cold — completely fucked-out and boneless, face half-buried in the crook of Toji’s neck, one arm slung loose over his chest, legs still tangled with his like you couldn’t bear to let go even in sleep. Your breathing had evened out into those slow, deep little puffs that made your lips part every exhale, drool already pooling at the corner of your mouth onto his collarbone. Cute. Wrecked. His.
He stayed like that for a long while, his arm banded around your waist, scarred palm resting possessive over the faint swell in your lower tummy where his cock and all that cum made you bulge just enough to feel under his hand. Every time you shifted in your sleep, tiny and little unconscious rolls of your hips, your pussy clenched tighter around him, gummy walls sucking greedy like even unconscious you didn’t want him to leave. It made his cock twitch — still half-hard, still leaking the last sluggish drops into your overflowing heat.
Toji hadn’t moved much since he’d pulled you down onto every thick inch and held you there, his cock still buried deep, warming your cum-stuffed pussy while the last pulses of his cum settled heavy and hot inside you.
Your walls kept fluttering around him in tiny, sleepy spasms — soft little squeezes that milked another lazy bead of seed from his tip even though he wasn’t thrusting anymore.
The mess between you was obscene; thick ropes of cum and your syrupy cream leaking slow out around his base, coating his heavy balls, dripping in warm, sticky trails down your inner thighs and soaking the sheets beneath your ass in a cooling puddle that smelled like sex and salt and him.
Eventually the ache in his thighs and the way your breathing had gone soft and even, told him you were really gone, deep in that post-orgasm haze where nothing existed but warmth and fullness and him.
Toji exhaled slowly through his nose, a low satisfied rumble in his chest, then started to move.
Careful. So fucking careful.
He slid one big hand under your thigh, lifting it just enough to ease the angle, while the other stayed splayed over your tummy, thumb stroking slow circles over that soft pudge like he was soothing you even in your sleep. Then he pulled.
Slow…
Inch by torturous inch.
The drag was filthy, your poor gaped hole clinging desperate to every veiny ridge as he withdrew, gummy walls fluttering weak protests around the retreating thickness. Slick and cum made obscene wet sounds, soft schlicks and squelches that filled the quiet room, thick white cream bubbling out around his shaft the second he started to slip free. Strings of it stretched taut between your puffy lips and his glistening cockhead — snapping slow and wet against your inner thighs as he kept pulling.
When the fat pink crown finally popped free with a lewd, sucking pop, your hole gaped open, pink and wrecked, fluttering helpless around nothing. A thick gush of cum followed immediately — hot, sticky ropes drooling slow out of your stretched entrance, sliding down your ass crack in pearly trails, pooling warm under you on the already soaked sheets. Your clit, still swollen and flushed, twitched once at the sudden emptiness, a tiny bead of cream clinging to the tip like a pearl.
Toji stared, breath catching rough in his throat at the sight of his cum leaking from your used little pussy. So much of it. Thick and white and endless, proof of how deep he’d fucked you, how full he’d kept you. Your pussy looked ruined in the prettiest way — lips puffy and parted, hole still trying to clench shut but too stretched to close completely, just drooling his load in slow, obscene pulses.
“Fuck,” he breathed voice low, wrecked, almost reverent. Toji finally took a long inhale, eyes locked on the sight. His pretty girl’s pussy all sloppy and leaking his cum like she couldn’t help it even asleep. Fuck… it made his cock twitch soft against his thigh, already half-interested again for just looking.
He leaned down slow and carefully…not to jostle you too much, breath fanning hot over your sensitive skin and pressed the softest, filthiest kiss right to your swollen clit. Gentle. Worshipful. Lips barely brushing the swollen bud…a warm, lingering press that made your hips twitch tiny in sleep, a soft whimper slipping from your throat. He kissed it again…slower, tongue flicking out just once to taste the mix of your cream and his cum still clinging there. Salty-sweet messy and perfect.
“My pretty girl,” he whispered against your pussy, voice so low it was more breath than sound. “Took me so deep… kept me warm all night. Look at you leakin’ my cum even when you’re sleepin’. So fuckin’ cute.”
Scarred lips brushing the sensitive bud, gentle and lingering, his tongue flicking out once to taste the mix of your cream and his cum clinging there. You whimpered in your sleep, a soft, needy little sound. Your hips twitched forward instinctively even when unconscious, thighs trembling once before settling again.
One more kiss, open-mouthed this time…lips sealing soft around your clit for a heartbeat, sucking the tiniest pull that made your thighs tremble before he let go.
Toji smiled against your pussy…slow, dangerous and so fucking tender, then kissed higher; one soft press to your puffy mound, another to the soft dip of your lower belly where the bulge was slowly fading.
“Fuck… gotta move, baby,” he rasped, voice gravel-thick with leftover lust and something softer underneath. “Your dad’s gonna be home soon. Can’t leave you lookin’ like this… all fucked-out and leakin’ me everywhere.”
He didn’t let you wallow in it.
He moved careful, almost gentle, sliding off you and scooping your limp, trembling body into his arms like you weighed nothing. Your legs dangled uselessly; your head lolled against his shoulder; your ruined pussy leaked a slow, sticky trail down his abs as he carried you to the tiny attached bathroom.
He set you on the edge of the tub softly with utter care, then ran warm water over a clean washcloth. No rough scrubbing. Just slow, careful wipes, dabbing away the cum and slick smeared across your inner thighs, between your ass cheeks, over your swollen mound. He was thorough, gentle thumbs parting your puffy lips just enough to clean the creamy mess still oozing from your gaping hole, wiping slow circles around your clit until you whimpered and twitched.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmured, kissing your forehead while he worked. “Gotta get you all clean… can’t have you drippin’ all over the place when your dad walks in.”
When you were as clean as he could get you, skin still flushed and sensitive, pussy still puffy and tender, he carried you back to the bed. He stripped the worst of the soaked sheets (bundling them into a ball to deal with later), flipped the comforter over the damp spot, and tucked you in slowly, pulling the soft blanket up to your chin, smoothing it over your trembling body like you were something precious.
“My good girl,” he whispered against your mouth, forehead resting against yours. “Took me so fuckin’ well… let me ruin you so pretty… now sleep, yeah? I’ll handle the rest. You just stay tucked in and dream about how full I made you.”
He knelt beside the bed for a long minute, just watching you, then leaned down and pressed a final, lingering kiss to your swollen lips. Slow. Drooly. Tongue brushing yours one last time like he was memorizing the taste.
He pulled the rumpled sheet up over your body, tucking it around your shoulders gentle and careful, like you were something precious he didn’t want to break even though he’d just spent hours fucking you… making sure your shoulders were covered, your bare feet hidden under the blanket.
He smoothed a hand over your soft tummy, feeling the faint bloat still there from how full he’d left you and then leaned down to kiss your forehead too. Long, tender press of scarred lips.
He kissed your forehead again, soft and possessive, then stood.
You watched through heavy lids as he pulled on his sweatpants (still stained, still smelling like sex), grabbed the bundled sheets, and slipped out the door quiet as a shadow.
The room smelled like him.
Like cum and sweat and summer heat.
Your pussy still ached, emptier… now but throbbing with the memory of how thick he’d been, how deep, how much he’d filled you.
You curled tighter under the blanket, legs pressing together to keep the lingering warmth inside and drifted.
cw: smut, crack, Naoya is... Naoya. Hes beefy as hell #NEEDDAT, mentions of eating/tasting cum, headlocks, choking, doggy, mentions of blowjobs, hes cocky and meanish, naoya secretly likes getting his butt touched...
Your boyfriend has been getting… bigger.
In the hunky beefy toe curling muscular way.
Not that he was scrawny before, but his waist was nonexistent and he had the body of a lean god.
You noticed it after waking up one morning and having a heavy ass arm across your chest. And the owner of it getting his beauty sleep right besides you, looking pretty as ever.
You noticed when the shirts he wore seemed to get tighter or when he would stretch it would show more of his stomach and that inviting happy trail than usual.
You noticed when he ate almost everything in sight, when you'd have dinner together he'd always finish before you and then try to reach over to grab your plate. Greedy bastard.
Bulking!Naoya who would tease you when he'd catch you staring at his biceps.
"Stop ogling me. Am i some sort of piece of meat for you to drool over? Tch. Pitiful." He'd scoff, rolling his eyes.
But that cocky bastard would lift up his arm to 'fix' his hair, making sure to flex the large muscle right in your face.
Bulking!Naoya who made good use of his bulky arms. You were trying to poke fun at him but Naoya knew a way to silence you.
Your laughter quieted down as a thickk strong bicep curled around the front of your throat, forcing you to step back against his chest. Mind you, his pecs were soft as pillows now. The back of your head hit the cushiony muscles and his arm wrapped around your fully.
"That shut you up real fast. "
You tried to look up at him, but all you could see was a grinning Naoya with a glint in his eyes, suddenly tightening the hold around your neck. The way you sputtered for air made him chuckle- warm, beefy muscle squished your cheeks up, the pressure was… actually really nice, it wasn't like he was trying to kill you or something, but the sensation of having your throat squeezed and head forced back was pleasurable.
"What's wrong? Can't talk anymore?"
He leaned down, lips almost against your ear. "Good."
Your hands came up to pull at his arm once you started to run out of oxygen. Or maybe it was because a tingling sensation was blooming right between your legs.
Bulking!Naoya who let go, but played it off as a joke. "Watch your tone next time, brat. Or I'll make sure you turn blue." He waved a hand around and pretended to straighten his lightly rumpled shirt… blaming you in his mind for even having to fix it.
Speaking about hands…
Bulking!Naoya who you asked to compare hands with.
"What? You hold my hand too much already, why do you want to compare them?" He sounded annoyed but his fingers flexed in anticipation.
His fingers looked thicker… his hand engulfed your now. Oh… Well.. you had noticed you were on the brink of cumming on his palm any time he fingered you recently. Might explain that too.
"I bet your hand is smaller than my face." You blurted out, snorting and quickly pulling your arm back.
"You think?"
Bulking!Naoya who was competitive no matter what it was. So in an instant a large shadow was cast over your face and fingers were digging into the fat of your cheeks, covering your forehead and a calloused palm was over your mouth.
He lightly shook your head around, a smirk tugging on Naoya's lips.
"You thought wrong."
He pulled his fingers away from the sides of your face, but grabbed your jaw instead, those sharp eyes watching your lips form a pretty pout.
A thumb swiped across your bottom lip, teasing you enough for you to start parting your lips- when you thought he was about to let you suck on it, he let go.
And then he'd let go and walk off like he hadn't just manhandled your mug.
Bulking!Naoya who you shamelessly groped, besides his ass because he seemed sensitive about that. Getting to grab all over, to feel up the abs and his sides and ugh you mushed your face between his pecs, trying to smother yourself.
Naoya just stood, looking uninterested as you had your fun.
Bulking!Naoya who's tits and arms weren't the only body parts that had gotten juicer.
His thighs and ass.
Listen, a fine piece of ass is a fine piece of ass.
Bulking!Naoya who was minding his business, reading something on his phone while standing in the middle of the kitchen, scratching his chest trough his t shirt. And you, who sneaked up behind him.
Bulking!Naoya who let out a whiny moan after you poked his left ass cheek.
The kitchen went silent. He froze up, not turning his head.
"…Naoya?"
"Not a word."
You could see a pink flush creeping up his neck and to his ears.
But he still had his back turned to you, assuming you'd leave him alone after the incident- but you just had to.
SMACK!
Your palm landed flat on the meaty thing, making sure to grab a handful trough his sweatpants and then attempting to run away.
It was worth getting your ass beat. (literally get bent over the nearest surface and Naoya doing what you did ten times as hard to your poor booty just to get back at you)
Bulking!Naoya who's cum was thicker now for some reason. Must be all the protein and sugar he's consuming. You noticed it after he had pulled out at the last moment during a mating press and splurted cum all over you, as if he was trying to paint you in it. It got all over you chest and tummy and even shot across your face.
Obviously he made you use your fingers and mouth to clean it all up. He wasn't going to touch his own release.
It was way hotter and thicker for sure, even tasted better.
You tried to convince Naoya to kiss you to taste himself but he turned his nose up, crossed his arms over his chest… only emphasizing his bulky build even more… and telling you he isn't some animal.
Sex? Oh sex was great.
Who knew him working out so much and gaining mass would raise his libido trough the roof.
Bulking!Naoya who would come back home after going for a run or lifting weights and wanted you to suck him off IMMEDIATELY.
"Knees, now. Hurry up."
Who were you to deny such a demand?
Bulking!Naoya who liked to bend you over and grab onto your hips and make sure you felt how easily he held you in place while pounding into you.
yes POUNDING.
His thrusts grew only heavier and meaner, using his strength to go for longer than ever before. You couldn't even moan probably because the air was being punched out of your throat, eyes rolling back and back bending from the sheer force.
You were surprised he hadn't flung you off of the bed by now.
Not to mention Naoya basically covered you entirely while leaning over you, and if he pulled you up by the hair, wrapping a rough hand around your throat and into the underside of your jaw, forcing you to sit up while he fucked up into you? It was useless to try and squirm away.
Bulking!Naoya who was just a big, cuddly teddy bear at the end of the day. You tried to snuggle with him, but you always ended up being engulfed entirely, trapped against his chest and surrounded by thick arms. He only let you go if you started to whimper about being too hot.
Or maybe he shoved a thick finger in your whiny mouth and slept peacefully.
Yoon's notes: so sorry my first thing back is NAOYA LOL but i saw this art and i just..i...i had to..
Shoko glides her tongue right between your puffy folds, flicking onto your clit and making you gasp out, head falling back against the pillows that smell just like her.
'Mnh, you like that, hmm?' She's damn near laughing at you, her nails pressing into your thighs, dark eyes lidded and dilated almost black. "Answer, sweets."
"Mhm!" All you can do is arch more for her, for your roommate who you never thought would be drinking your cunt up. You'd come home utterly horny despite your date being the worst, and Shoko's eyes had locked right in between your thighs, where slick was dribbling.
Need help?
Who the fuck were you to turn down that? To gently tug at her silky dark locks as she trails her fingers through that fucking mess you're making, humming on your clit, your juices drooling down her chin.
"Ngh! Shoko!"
She slurps it all up, slender digits pumping inside your needy walls, she can't help but grind right up against that pillow between her thighs, hoping she can swallow all your clear cum before your other roommates get there.
She just knows Satoru and Suguru will be so fucking mad she tasted you first.
Well, their fault for going to an all day movie marathon, even better for her to part your folds and spit on your clit, smiling at your gasp, at your shaky thighs.
"Have you not been eaten out?" You shake your head. "I'll take good care of this pretty pussy, don't worry."
She's dragging the flat of her tongue on your clit even faster, your screams echoing in the apartment as she drinks your cunt right up, her two fingers stretching out your messy hole. The squelches alone are loud and filthy as you feel your core tightening, closer and closer, blood rushing through your ears.
That's when you hear it.
The door opening, two idiot men laughing and shoving each other, but Shoko doesn't relent one bit, no, she keeps fingering you, looking back at the men at the doorway with dropped open mouths, smirking with her slick face.
"Oh you're so mean," Satoru looks at you now, his eyes dilated bright fucking blue - "I wanted to eat her first!"
"Y-you did?" Your brows draw together in confusion, Satoru strips his pants off so quickly it's fucking comical, as that little pink tongue hits your twitchy clit again, you can see his cock slapping his flat abdomen.
Suguru is still utterly mesmerized by the sight of not just you - but Shoko's pussy right in the air.
"I've already had your panties in my mouth," Satoru walks over and leans forward, stroking his veiny cock now, whining out as your mouth kisses the tip. "Please, pretty girl, wear this as your gloss?"
"You're so fucking corny," Shoko mumbles, leaning up to nip your hip with her sharp teeth, Satoru's gliding his tip in and out of your mouth, Suguru moving closer, eyeing the sight of you.
How filthy you must look.
Thighs spread, her head between your thighs, a pink tip leaking white into your mouth. Suguru can't help but glide two fingers and slide them inside Shoko's cunt, leaning over and pressing kisses right along your ribcage, dark hair falling against your skin.
"You're that wet licking her, huh? Slutty pussy," she moans out, her tongue working you faster, but he yanks them right out, making her huff in frustration.
"You're an idiot too," she swears, Suguru sucks her juices off his fingers, just to tug your head away from Satoru's cock, leaning over you now. You're so fucked out and needy, from all three roommates all over you, it's impossible to take it.
"Open f'me, princess," Suguru murmurs, you do just that, opening wide as he spits Shoko's juices right in your mouth, the sight of it having them pause for just a moment. "Mmm... good girl."
You cum right on Shoko's fingers, they all avidly watch - Satoru's milky drops falling on your face.
"My turn," Suguru hums, making Satoru scowl.
"My turn!?"
"I'm not done yet, go jerk off in the corner," she orders, but they really just don't listen.
Hm....No I do not have any one particular favorite as of the moment.... Though I have been paying a little more attention to Komaji-kun lately, poor boy's caught a cold and with his frail health I am worried about him.
Ryomen Sukuna was having the kind of day that made him want to commit a felony.
Work had been an absolute, unmitigated disaster. His clients were being brain-dead idiots, his emails had been piling up since 6:00 AM, and his boss had the audacity to drop a massive, last-minute project on his desk right as he was packing up to leave. By the time he finally unlocked the front door to your shared apartment, his jaw was clenched so tight his teeth ached. He was exhausted, he was pissed off, and he was fully prepared to pour himself a massive glass of whiskey and not speak to a single soul for the rest of the night.
He pushed the door open, dropping his keys into the bowl by the entrance with a loud, aggressive clatter. He shrugged off his suit jacket, loosening his tie with a harsh yank.
“I’m home,” he called out, his voice a low, gravelly grumble.
He expected you to be in the kitchen, or maybe curled up on the couch watching some trashy reality TV show. He expected you to ask him how his day was, which would inevitably lead to him ranting for twenty minutes straight.
Instead, there was silence.
Sukuna frowned, his bad mood spiking just a fraction. He walked down the hallway and stepped into the living room.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, hunched over the coffee table. The entire surface was completely covered in hundreds of microscopic, brightly colored plastic bricks. You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, your hair tied up in a messy bun that was slowly falling apart.
But the best part? The absolute most ridiculous, endearing part?
You were squinting so hard your nose was scrunched up, and the very tip of your tongue was poking out of the corner of your mouth in pure, unadulterated concentration. Your fingers, which were currently trying to snap a tiny, translucent green piece onto a microscopic brown cylinder, were trembling slightly from the effort.
You hadn’t even heard him come in. You were entirely, completely consumed by your task.
Sukuna stood there in the doorway, his suit jacket dangling from his fingers. He didn’t say a word. He just watched you.
You were a serial hobbyist. Every month, it was something new. Knitting, painting by numbers, making weird little clay frogs that currently haunted his nightstand. He usually just rolled his eyes, funded your little hyper-fixations, and let you do your thing.
But this? This tiny, intricate Lego flower shop you had apparently bought today? It had you in a chokehold.
Snap.
The tiny green piece finally clicked into place.
You let out a massive, dramatic gasp of victory, throwing your hands up in the air like you had just won the Super Bowl. “Yes! Take that, you stupid little plastic bitch!”
Sukuna let out a sudden, loud snort.
You jumped, spinning around so fast you nearly knocked over a pile of pink bricks. When you saw him standing there, your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. The sheer, radiant joy on your face was blinding.
“Babe!” you squealed, scrambling up onto your knees. You carefully scooped up the tiny, completed structure in your hands and held it out toward him like it was the Holy Grail. “Baby, look! Look what I did!”
Sukuna slowly walked over, dropping his jacket onto the sofa. He looked down at your hands.
It was a tiny, incredibly detailed Lego flower shop. And sitting right in front of it was a single, slightly lopsided plastic rose that you had clearly customized.
“I made you this one,” you beamed, your chest puffing out with pride. You were practically vibrating with excitement. “It’s for your desk at work! Because you said your office is depressing! Do you like it?!”
Sukuna stared at the tiny plastic flower. Then, he looked at you.
You had a faint smudge of left over dinner on your cheek. Your oversized shirt was slipping off one shoulder. You were looking up at him with such pure, unfiltered adoration and excitement over a piece of plastic that it actually knocked the breath out of his lungs.
And just like that, it happened.
The stress of the last fourteen hours? Gone. The anger at his clients? Evaporated. The tension in his shoulders, the pounding headache behind his eyes, the overwhelming urge to burn his office building to the ground? It all just melted away, completely washed out by the sheer force of your ridiculous, beaming smile.
He didn’t just love you. That wasn’t a strong enough word anymore.
He looked at you, sitting on the floor surrounded by plastic bricks, offering him a fake flower to make his bad day better, and a single, crystal-clear thought rang through his head like a bell.
I need to marry this girl.
Not ‘I want to.’ Not ‘someday.’ Need. He needed to marry your crazy ass. He needed to lock this down permanently, because if he had to go through the rest of his miserable, stressful life without coming home to you poking your tongue out over a Lego set, he was going to lose his fucking mind.
“Sukuna?” you blinked, your smile faltering just a little when he didn’t immediately respond. You lowered your hands slightly. “Do you… not like it? I know it’s kind of dumb, but—”
“Shut up,” he breathed, his voice thick.
Before you could even process the command, he dropped to his knees right in front of you, completely ignoring the fact that he was crushing at least ten Lego pieces under his expensive suit pants.
He reached out, his large hands gently cupping your face. He didn’t even look at the flower shop. His red eyes were locked entirely on yours, burning with an intensity that made your heart stutter in your chest.
“Babe?” you whispered, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. “Are you okay? Was work bad?”
“Work was a fucking nightmare,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. “But I don’t care anymore.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. He let out a long, shaky exhale, the last of his stress leaving his body. “I love it, baby. It’s perfect. I’m putting it right in the middle of my desk.”
Your smile instantly returned, brighter than before. “Really?!”
“Really,” he chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating against your skin. He tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a slow, desperate kiss. It wasn’t heated or rough; it was incredibly soft, filled with a kind of overwhelming reverence that made your toes curl.
When he finally pulled back, he kept his face inches from yours. He looked down at your lips, then back up to your eyes.
“I’m gonna marry you,” he said.
It wasn’t a proposal. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of absolute, undeniable fact. He said it casually, like he was commenting on the weather, but the weight behind his words was heavy enough to anchor a ship.
Your brain short-circuited. You sat there, frozen, the tiny Lego flower shop still clutched in your hands. “What?”
“You heard me,” he smirked, his usual arrogant confidence bleeding back into his tone. He leaned in and pressed a loud, wet kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then the sensitive skin just below your ear. “I’m gonna marry your crazy ass. Put a ring on your finger so big you won’t be able to lift your hand to build these stupid little toys.”
“They’re not stupid!” you squawked, your face flushing bright red as his words finally registered. “And you can’t just drop that on me while I’m holding a Lego!”
“I just did,” he laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest, completely ruining your posture. He buried his face in your neck.
You let out a breathless, watery laugh, carefully setting the flower shop down on the table before wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. You ran your fingers through his pink hair, feeling the last of the tension bleed out of his muscles.
“Okay,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Okay, Ryomen.”
“Good,” he mumbled against your skin. He shifted slightly, his knee crunching against a pile of plastic. He winced. “Now, help me up. I think a fucking Lego is embedded in my kneecap.”
chosen from countless women, you become satoru gojo’s wife, and now an heir is expected of you. he is kind, attentive even, yet he has never touched you, which leaves you to take matters into your own hands.
𝒄𝒘. arranged marriage trope ⸝⸝ smut with plot ⸝⸝ p in v
𝒂𝒏. this is for @yoonsucks 3k event!! & art by baobei_beh on x
You’ve learned not to reach for something that was never offered. It makes things easier, simply filling your role the way you’re expected to.
Wife, in name.
You remember the day with clarity.
Coming from a prominent sorcerer clan, the invitation hadn’t been a surprise. A formal letter, sealed and precise, summoning you to the Gojo estate. You went because you had to, because in your world, declining something like that wasn’t an option.
When you arrived, there was already a line.
Women— dozens of them, stood waiting, their composure brittle beneath the surface. Some adjusted their hair for the hundredth time, others smoothed creases from their clothes. A few tried not to stare each other down, though the tension between them was obvious.
And then you saw him.
He walked down the hall toward the room where everyone was gathered, unhurried, almost careless. And for a brief, fleeting moment, his gaze met yours— those impossibly clear blue eyes, sharp and unreadable.
You didn’t think much of it at the time.
One by one, the women were called in.
One by one, they came back out.
Some held themselves together, faces stiff with practiced dignity. Others weren’t as composed, makeup smeared, eyes red, voices trembling as they whispered or outright complained about being rejected. The atmosphere grew heavier with each passing minute, disappointment thick in the air.
Through it all, you remained detached.
You weren’t there to win. You weren’t there to impress. You were there because not showing up might have cost you more than your pride.
And then, somehow, he chose you.
You still remember the silence that followed. The weight of every gaze snapping toward you, sharp and disbelieving. You hadn’t done anything remarkable. You hadn’t tried to stand out.
The looks they gave you afterward were impossible to forget— resentful, confused, some openly hostile. As if you had stolen something from them. As if you had played a game better than they had.
“Are you certain about this, Mr. Gojo?” you had asked carefully, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.
Several elders seated nearby turned to look at you as though you had committed some unforgivable offense, their expressions tight with disapproval. The sheer audacity of questioning him, especially now, after his decision had already been made, seemed almost scandalous.
Relaxed as ever, Satoru leaned back slightly in his seat, utterly unaffected by the tension that had suddenly settled over the room.
“Please,” he said, voice smooth and almost teasing, “call me Satoru. It’s only right that my future wife drops the formalities.”
Future wife.
Months later, you're standing in front of your dresser with the soft fabric of a nightgown caught between your fingers. The hem of the nightgown catches on the edge of the dresser drawer, snagging for just a second before you tug it free.
You hadn’t even wanted to unpack it when it was given to you, this absurdly expensive gift from your husband. You’d shoved it to the back of the drawer for weeks, letting it gather dust beneath other gifted clothes you never wore.
You know why you’re here.
The Gojo clan head needed a wife, and you were the one who fit the checklist— quiet, presentable, and most importantly, fertile.
It was never subtle. Never dressed up as anything softer than what it is. The Gojo clan needs an heir— and you were chosen to provide it.
Although your husband has been kind and caring, he hasn’t made a single attempt to grow closer to you. Which is why you decided to take matters into your own hands— if he won’t act, then you will make sure that changes tonight.
Back then, you might’ve refused, but saying now that you’re not attracted to him now would be lying. So while the pressure of expectations is weighing on you, there may also be a few personal reasons behind wanting him closer.
So you’re determined to make tonight matter, he should be home any minute now.
You slip into the soft fabric, letting it settle against your skin, and turn slowly in front of the mirror.
Your grip tightens slightly in the lace, the fabric bunching under your fingers as your thoughts spiral somewhere you try not to let them go too often.
You’re tired of being the subject of whispered conversations among the clan, and you’re tired of your husband treating you like a friend.
Even now, they linger in every conversation you’re not meant to hear, in every glance from elders who measure time in expectations rather than days.
Three months. Three months and twelve days— enough time for questions to start forming.
You press your lips together.
You and your husband barely hold hands, let alone anything that would lead to that.
It leaves you wondering, more often than you’d like, if he finds you attractive at all. Or if there’s simply nothing there worth looking at.
Footsteps echo down the hallway— that’s your cue. You glance at yourself one last time in the mirror, smoothing the lace at your sides as you draw in a steady breath. Tonight isn’t supposed to be like all the others.
Tonight, you’re going to seduce your own husband.
The door opens, and there he is. Your husband. For a moment, it almost feels like he’s looking at you, though the blindfold makes it hard to tell. You wait, a small spark of hope catching in your chest.
“You’re home, how was your day?” you sing, your voice light and playful, fluttering your lashes as a warm smile spreads across your face.
“Just the usual— I’m glad to be home, though.” He offers you a polite smile before brushing past, heading straight for his dresser.
You remain where you are, letting out a slow breath. Not quite the reaction you’d hoped for— but you’re not ready to give up just yet.
You finally turn, smoothing out your nightgown as you go, tugging it ever so slightly to emphasize your cleavage, a quiet attempt to catch his attention.
His back is to you, and you catch him just as he reaches up, slipping the blindfold off.
You step up behind him, slipping your arms around his waist, letting your hands wander ever so slightly.
“Long day, huh?” you murmur, leaning into his back. “I wouldn’t mind helping you unwind.”
He lets out a soft chuckle and gently turns to face you.
“I think some sleep will do me good. Please, don’t worry about me,” he says, giving your head an affectionate pat.
God, he’s treating you like a kid— time to take more decisive measures.
You take a step back with a quiet huff, then look up at him, brows drawn together.
“What— this isn’t sexy enough for you?” you press, frustration creeping into your voice. “You’re the one who gave it to me, so it must be me, huh?”
A flicker of surprise crosses his face, and you catch the way he swallows.
“No— no, not at all. I mean— yes, it’s… it’s sexy. You’re—” He stumbles over his words, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his head. “Why would you even ask that? I’m glad you’re wearing it, actually. I think it suits you perfectly.”
“Then why won't you look at me, Satoru?”
His breath hitches. A beat passes before his hand drops slowly to his side, fingers twitching like he wants to reach for something— or someone.
“Because,” he admits, voice rough around the edges, “if I do, I'm not sure I'll stop.”
The silence stretches taut between you, his confession lingering in the air like a plucked string. His gaze flickers down, just once, to where the lace clings to your hips, and you see his throat work as he swallows hard.
“You have no idea,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, fingers flexing at his sides.
“That damn thing caught my attention the second I stepped in here. Every time you move, it—“ He cuts himself off with a sharp exhale, dragging a hand through his hair.
You tilt your head, watching the way his shoulders tense. “So you have been looking?”
“Like I have a choice.” The admission comes out rough, almost annoyed, and something warm curls low in your stomach.
You take a step forward, close enough to see the way his pupils dilate.
“Satoru,” you say his name slowly, letting it roll on your tongue. “You didn’t even ask what I wanted when you chose this marriage.”
His gaze snaps to yours, sharp. “I—”
“Maybe,” you continue, tracing idle circles on his palm, “I wanted you closer.”
The nightgown’s lace flutters against your thighs as you lean in, close enough to share his air.
“You’re telling me,” he murmurs, voice dipping lower, “that all this time, I could’ve—”
His hands hover at your waist, not quite touching. “Damn it. I thought you’d need time. That you’d resent me for pulling you into this.”
“Resent you? For what? The way your hands shake right now?” You catch one, pressing it flat against the curve of your hip. “Or how you keep biting your lip when I move?”
You demonstrate by swaying slightly, watching his teeth sink into the plush flesh. “That’s what I resent? That you’ve been holding back?”
His grip tightens, finally, as he exhales through his nose.
“You have no idea,” he repeats, rougher this time, “how many nights I’ve laid awake imagining this. That damn lace.”
A shudder runs through him as his thumb finds the scalloped edge at your thigh. “It’s translucent when you stand in the light. Drives me insane.”
You arch into his touch. “Prove it.”
Then, with a growl, he yanks you flush against him. The heat of his body sears through the thin fabric as his mouth crashes onto yours. His tongue sweeps in, tasting you like a man starved, and you gasp into the kiss. His hands slide up your ribs, tracing every dip and curve as if memorizing them.
When he pulls back, his breath is ragged, a string of saliva connecting you still.
“Still think I haven’t been looking?” he mutters, thumb brushing your swollen lower lip. “I could draw every stitch of this thing from memory.”
His fingers trail up to toy with the plunging neckline.
“This part—” a tug at the ribbon between your breasts, “—keeps coming loose in my head. And here—” his palm skates down your side, making you shiver, “—I love the way it catches on your hips when you walk.”
You bite back a moan. “So do something about it..”
. . ❤︎
The sounds are filthy, wet and sloppy, the sharp slap of skin against skin every time he bullies his way inside you beating through your bedroom.
“Keep it on,” Satoru growls against your ear, his fingers tightening in the lace at your hips as he drags you back onto him. The frills tickle your thighs, the fabric absurdly delicate against the mess he is making of you.
You gasp something unintelligible, clawing at his shoulders— not to push him away, but because the nightgown’s straps keep slipping down your shoulders, tangling your arms like you’re some half-wrapped present he can’t wait to properly unwrap.
“You’re— mmh! really obsessed with this s-stupid thiiing,” you manage, your voice breaking as he angles deeper.
“Obsessed?” He punctuates the word with a slow roll of his hips, dragging the lace higher up your thighs. “Y’the one who— ngh! decided t’use it against me. Like you— knew.”
His teeth graze your shoulder, a sharp contrast to the way his thumbs circle your nipples through the lace, the friction just shy of painful.
“Look at you,” he drawls, voice rough. The nightgown clings to your skin, where sweat has soaked through, and you watch his gaze darken as he takes in the sight, his own personal masterpiece, half-destroyed and still pristine in its ruin.
You arch into him, the absurdity of the situation hitting you in waves.
Here you are, a woman who’d never even held hands with her husband before the wedding, now trembling beneath his hands as he worships the very thing he’s ruining.
The lace scratches your oversensitive skin, each tiny thread a reminder of his fixation, and you moan when he tears the hem slightly in his haste to hike it higher.
“Satoru—”
The lace tears a little more as he yanks it up to your ribs, exposing the dip of your waist.
“Gonna ruin it properly,” he murmurs, and you realize he doesn’t just mean the nightgown.
He means you, the way your thighs shake, the way your nails rake his back, the way you’re already arching into him like you’ll beg for it if he hesitates even a second.
“M’so sorry sweetheart— let my sweet wife go without f’so long.”
He holds you in place, both of his strong arms wrapping around your thighs, his face one of pure bliss as you can feel every single twitch and throb of his cock as his cum spills inside of you.
The sensation is too much, your hole twitching— some droplets of milky white sliding down the curve of your ass.
“You're not getting out of this bed until y’full of me,” he growls, and the possessive edge in his words sends a shiver down your spine. “Not until I know it's taken.”
He rolls his hips, no longer chasing his own release but ensuring yours, dragging the pleasure out until you're writhing beneath him.
You can feel the heat of him, the way he still pulses inside you, and when you clench around him, he groans, his forehead dropping to yours.
“Again,” he orders, his breath hot against your lips. “Squeeze me like that again, and I'll give you another load right now.”
He might not pay rent around here, but he sure is handy...
Roomate!Toji x reader
cw: gn!reader, crack(?), implied smutty stuff, flirty asshole Toji, reader yells a lot, mention of fleshlight (used), not proofread lols
"Toji motherfucking Fushiguro!"
Your voice rang trough your shared apartment.
Toji, used to this by now just let out a grunt from the living room... in which he was sprawled out on the couch of.
"Yeah?"
You had came home from work and the first thing that greeted you were the trash bags he had promised to take out while you were gone.
That promise was about 8 hours ago.
"Get your bum ass over here!" You scoffed, not leaving the spot you were standing in, coat and bag haphazardly hung up.
You could hear the couch groan as he got up, followed by a yawn and heavy footsteps over to the entryway. Toji looked like he had had the worlds best nap, hair messy and in all directions, sleep still glossing over his eyes and his hand was scratching as his belly... that toned and defined and hot ab ridden belly-
You blinked, shaking your head to snap out of it.
"Well?"
"Well what, babe?"
"Don't call me babe!" You scoff, pointing a finger at the bags. "Out. Now."
Your tone was final.
Toji, lips already flickering down into a small pout, wanting to protest-
"Don't start, i'm gonna bring up rent again." You glared.
He let out a small grunt in response, easily hooking the bags on a few of his thick fingers and padding to the door behind you, quietly sighing before leaving to go take the trash outside.
Listen, living with Toji wasn't all that bad. He mostly kept to himself and only sometimes left his boxers laying around and only sometimes got a bit too loud when he was watching some sports channel. He did leave the place to go to the gym, even went grocery shopping if you sent him.
You wonder if he even dates... you never see him texting or calling anyone too.
Only bad part? Never paid rent on time. Or just didn't pay at all.
When he isn't being a lazy bastard, he gets handy and fixes thing around the apartment or even your car... things that would cost a fortune.
So you turn a blind eye when he misses a few months of paying.
A lazy weekend, nothing exciting going on.
You wanted to take a niceeee longggg hot shower to loosen up a bit after the hectic work week.
You stood naked in the shower, music playing on your phone from the counter.
Squeeeek.
Water was supposed to come out.
Where's the water?
Squeek squeek turn crank PULL.
Nothing.
The shower was broken.
You, out of frustration didn't think much and did what any other sane person would do in this situation.
Call your at-home-plumber.
"TOOOJIII!!"
The sound of someone taking their sweeeeet time walking over from his room reached your hearing.
Only the second before the doorhandle to the bathroom turned you remembered you didn't have clothes on.
"W..WAIT DONT COME IN!" You panic, grabbing into the shower curtains to use it as some sort of cover.
"Too late."
The door was pushed open and a smug looking Toji waltzed in, looking relaxed as ever. His eyes zeroed in on your embarrassed face and the way you were trying not to flash him anything.
"You called me to come help wash your back or somethin'? Cute."
You tried to shoo him away but the bastard had already stepped further into the room.
To your surprise he actually glanced to the shower head and the tap, as if examining it.
"Is it acting up again?" He asked while wiggling the squeaky thing around.
You nodded, still peeking behind the shower curtains.
"Be a doll and go get the toolbox, yeah?" he grinned, glancing over his shoulder at you.
"Go get it yourself! I need to put my robe on-"
"Nah, i ain't fixing it if you don't get me my box."
That... UGH.
You frowned, starting to shimmy out of the shower stall... dragging the curtain with you.
"Stop watching! Such a perv..." you complained under your breath.
Toji just chuckled, making a show of leaning back against the tiles, sharp eyes latched on to your form. "Cmon, pipe isn't gonna fix itself... yknow."
You almost hissed at him.
The towel and counter was right there...
You quickly let go of the plasticy material and grabbed the towel instead, rushing out while barely covering your ass with it.
Toji whistled after you, not even needing to look back at him to him he had on some sort of smug look.
But while you were gone, he worked on checking the issue, knowing you'd get even pissier if you couldn't shower sooner than later.
You wrapped yourself up in the cotton thing, bare feet padding trough the hallway and down to the last door. Toji's room.
You rarely went there... who goes into a bummy, lazy, burly...sweaty.. man's room anyways? Alone, nonetheless.
You shoved open the door, met with the sight of his actually.. not that messy floor.
A few socks and shorts here and there. A dumbell or two.
You make your way to the shelf he keeps his tools and random shit on.
You had to pass by the bed.
You were a bit curious and peeked over to the soft thing.
Nothing sus.
You looked back, sighing as the toolbox was on the highest shelf. Obviously.
Now, you weren't some little weak y/n, but you know that box was heavyyy as hell.
Turning around to try and see what you could use to step on, you walked up to his little dresser besides the bed.
On close inspection it was safe to drag over.
But then on ANOTHER close inspection, a drawer was open.
Who peeks in men's drawers?
You do.
A fleshlight.
A DAMN POCKET PUSSY WAS SHOVED IN IT.
It looked like it had some wet residue on the outside- HOLD ON STOP.
Think.
Why would that be here.
oh i dont know
probably because Toji was using it before you had called him over to help with the shower.
You tried to calm down the sudden rush of heat to your face and eartips, roughly slamming the thing shut and using your newfound strength to pull the dresser to the shelves.
He could reorganize his furniture when he gets that damn shower running again.
Toolbox acquired.
You stumble back with the heavy thing, towel holding on for dear life after all your activities.
You finally got to the shower door.
The moment you dropped the box on the tiled floor....
The shower head made a sound.
And water started to run.
A cocky toji, flexing his hand, stood in front of the shower curtains.
"All fixed."
Your face dropped.
Your eye twitched.
"SO YOU MADE ME DRAG THIS SHIT ALL THE WAY OVER HERE AND YOU FIX IT WITH YOUR STUPID HANDS?"
Your screech was defiantly heard by the upstairs neighbours. They loved you.
Toji loved you too. Especially how you hadn't even noticed the damn towel slipping down in your fit of rage.
"Yeah, all it took was a little twist. Nothing crazy."
"You look good, by the way."
He smirked, making a show of dragging his eyes across your bare body, lingering right between your thighs.
Your anger turned to confusion, quickly looking down. Oh. That traitorous piece of fabric had pooled around your ankles.
You just accepted your fate and let out a deep...deeeeep....exhale.
"At least i don't fuck my fleshlight instead of actual flesh..." you murmured, not glancing back to him.
"You wanna help me change habits?"
Yoon's notes: oh my god i hope i did gn reader justice
FOR MY SEXY DADA: @cactusvolumes I HOPE U LIKE IT IM SORRY IT TURNED INTO CRACK
art: @/v0idzenin on 𝕏, @/hunnismoker on ig, idk the one with toji laying down, help
would you ever write sexting situationship sukuna...
cw: suggestive, sexting, a little bit of an awkward reader hehe (hope this is okay, anon!)
the thing about being in an unlabelled whatever-this-was with sukuna. a situationship as people called it is that it'll take ages before you actually get to the benefits of it all.
you thought that this was perfect when you agreed to it. he's easy to talk to, calm and composed despite the aggressor he is on the rugby pitch and very blunt. the man is the type to initiate things which is godsent for an awkward freak like you.
except you're stuck in this strange, flirty yet horny phase of the relationship where risqué texts are anticipated with bated breath when the clock strikes eleven at night. the things said are borderline sexting but toe the line and are ambiguous so you can never tell and it drives you crazy.
what's worse is that the tatted, pink-haired bastard sees you the next day and barely bats an eye, doesn't mention what was said under the cover of night and treats you to your favourite hot drink and pastry like he always does.
there's been a couple of times where you've invited him over for a movie night, something all young adults in college do as code for come-over-and-hook-up. and yet all he fucking does is devour your snacks, slurp the spicy noodles and chug your sodas, eating everything in your apartment but the very willing host.
“looks like it's time for me to go. i think i've overstayed my welcome, yeah?” he'd decide, rising from the couch and stretching with a groan that was tired, not sexual yet still had your stomach in knots, especially since his shirt rose and teased you with the ink etched into his hip and the waistband of his boxers.
fret not because everyone has their breaking point and you decide to mess with him one night when you're about to go out with your friends.
the shibuya neon smears against the taxi window, but you aren’t looking at the city. you’re staring at the screen, your thighs pressed so tightly together they’re starting to ache. under the silk of your backless dress, your skin feels hypersensitive, every bump in the road sending a jolt through your core.
sukuna is a mountain of controlled intensity on the pitch, but in your dms, he’s clearly bored with how many texts he's sent you and knows exactly how to make you squirm.
it started harmlessly. as usual.
sukuna: you're quiet. what are you doing tonight?
you: most people start with a greeting and small talk, ryomen.
sukuna: i like getting to the point but i'll humor you.
sukuna: hello, sweetheart. how are you?
you: hey. i'm pretty good and you?
sukuna: good too. back to my first question.
you: rude. going out with my friends to some new club.
sukuna: what are you wearing?
you: it's impolite to ask a lady what she's wearing, ryomen.
sukuna: you're right. i won't ask. tell me what you're wearing.
and that had sparked a brilliant idea in your head to send him a totally innocent picture of you in your dress before you left your apartment.
there is a delay that you count with the beats of your heart until your phone buzzes with his response.
sukuna: you're going out in that? careful, some guys might try to grab your ass.
eyes widening, you feel the heat creep up your neck. you know exactly what he’s doing—marking his territory from miles away.
you: why would they do that? lol
sukuna: because they're idiots. stick close to your friends, yeah?
you: okay. any drink suggestions?
across the city, sukuna leans his head back against the locker, his phone heavy in his hand. he stares at the photo you sent—the curve of your bare spine, the way the fabric clings to your hips. his jaw tightens. he can practically feel the texture of your skin under his calloused palms. he’s already straining against his shorts, the visual of you walking into a dark club with all that skin exposed making his blood simmer.
the picture gave sukuna a thrill. he'd been waiting for you to make the first move for a while now. to him, woman are like cats. no one in their right mind goes up to a cat, be it a stray or homed, and reaches out to touch it. it will attack you, look at you crazy or run away. the feline will let you know when you can touch it very much like a lady. so he's bidding his time with the patience of a saint for when you do, when you come out of your shell and show him what you want.
sukuna: i'm usually a whiskey on the rocks kind of guy, two fingers. you seem like you enjoy fruity cocktails though.
you: i do but i'm willing to try new things.
sukuna: think you can handle two fingers?
your heart skips a beat. you know it’s a double entendre, and the mental image of his large, tattooed hands—the ones that grip a rugby ball with such care—doing anything else to you makes your breath hitch. you’re rubbing your thighs together now, the friction the only thing grounding you.
stealing a glance at the driver through the rear view mirror, you feel silly about your shame. it's not like your screen is cast on the dashboard for the middle-aged man to see. he's focused on the road.
you: of whiskey, right?
sukuna: what do you think i mean?
you: well, we're talking about whiskey so i'm going with that.
sukuna: obviously.
you: you give drink recommendations to everyone like this?
sukuna: not in this manner.
you: in what manner?
sukuna: stop texting and being asocial. go have fun with your friends, silly girl.
the dismissal feels like a physical shove, making you huff in frustration. but then, your phone vibrates—a heavy, deliberate pulse.
it’s a photo.
harsh gym lighting. sukuna is shirtless, his jersey gripped between his teeth, pulling the fabric up to reveal a sunkissed torso that looks carved from granite. his tattoos snake around his obliques and dip dangerously low into the waistband of his shorts. crimson eyes pin you in place as he stares into the camera.
greedily, you zoom in until the ink blurs into pixels, your pulse drumming in your ears as you stare at the sheen of sweat on his skin. a dusty pink, neatly trimmed happy trail disappears into his shorts like an ‘x’ marking the spot of a pirate's treasure.
sukuna: it'd be unfair to not return the favor.
you: you’re a horrible man.
sukuna: you want to kiss this horrible man.
you: bite him actually. hard enough to draw blood btw.
sukuna’s eyes darken as he reads that. he imagines your teeth against the ink on his shoulder, the sharp sting of it and it makes the burgeoning bulge in his shorts pulse. a string of dirty messages aren't enough to get him worked up but he'd been wanting to palm himself for twenty minutes, trace the tip of his half-mast erection while he imagines dragging his fingers down the dip in your naked back and feeling you shudder.
sukuna: hmm, i bet you're a biter.
you: i bet you'd like that.
sukuna: this isn't about me.
you: oh yeah? i bet a hundred bucks that you're hard right now.
he doesn't try to deny it. he hits the banking app, the notification popping up on your screen instantly.
sukuna: [attachment: a notification of a $100 transfer]
you gasp, the sheer audacity of it making your stomach flip.
he’s winning. he knows he’s winning.
you: enough. i'm gonna get horny.
sukuna: my bad. i was gonna send you a voice note of me doing inappropriate things while staring at that picture of you but i don’t want to bother you. stay safe. bye.
you drop the phone into your clutch like it’s made of live wire. your mind is a mess of static and cotton and the driver has to call out to you a few times before you embarrassingly realise you've arrived at your destination.
as you step out of the cab and into the thumping bass of the club, you’re a ghost even as you beam at your friends and hug them. you stand at the bar, ordering his whiskey, but all you can hear is the voice note he didn't send—the imagined sound of his gravelly voice breaking as he took himself to the edge while looking at your body.
you’re wet, you’re haunted, and the worst part is knowing that tomorrow, he’ll see you during your planned hangout and just nod casually, like he didn't just ruin your entire night from a locker room across the city.
the club is a blur of strobe lights and muffled bass, but you move through it like a woman possessed.
every time the silk of your dress brushes your thighs, you think of his "two fingers" comment. every time you catch your reflection in a mirrored pillar, you see the version of yourself he’s currently imagining—a mess of smudged eyeliner and tangled hair fanned over his pillow.
by the time you stumble back into your apartment at 3:00 am, the whiskey buzz has settled into a warm, defiant glow in your chest. you’re tired of him winning. you’re tired of his nonchalant "stay safe. bye" while you’re left reeling.
you kick off your heels and head straight for the back of your closet. there it is. his red rugby jersey, heavy and smelling faintly of his detergent and that distinct, woody scent that clings to his skin.
in the bathroom, the lighting is soft, blurring the edges of the room. your hair has mostly escaped the claw clip, hanging in messy, dark waves over your shoulders. your dark eyeliner is slightly smudged, giving you a sleepy, wrecked look of a woman who's been thoroughly ravished.
you pull the jersey over your head. it swallows you, the hem reaching mid-thigh, the thick sleeves hanging past your elbows. just the thought of him wearing this has a delightful shiver crawling down your spine.
standing before the mirror, you hike up the left side of the heavy fabric, bunching it in your fist until the curve of your hip is exposed. you’re wearing lacy panties—the ones with the delicate silk bow right in the middle—that contrast sharply against the plush, doughy curve of your thighs.
your heart hammers against your ribs as you slide your free hand beneath the hem of the jersey, hiking it up on one side. your manicured fingers find the weight of your bare breast, cupping the plump swell of it, pushing the curve upward so it teases the edge of the lens.
you look flushed, your lips parted, your eyes heavy with the lingering effects of the liquor and the sheer audacity of what you’re doing. the phone hides your face.
click.
you don't look at it twice. if you do, you’ll lose your nerve. you open the chat—making sure it's his so you don't have an embarrassing mishap—attach the photo, and type a simple caption.
you: i found this in my closet. it’s a lot more comfortable than the dress.
you: goodnight, ryomen. sleep well.
across the city, in the silence of his dark apartment, sukuna's phone lights up the room. he’s finally managed to cool his blood with a cold shower, coral hair damp, lying shirtless on top of his sheets, staring at the ceiling.
he reaches for the device, expecting a "home safe" text.
the red of his jersey catches his eye first. then he sees your hand—your delicate, soft hand—all cozy in his clothes even as you taunt him with everything he can’t touch. he sees the plushness of your torso, the bow on your panties, the way the fat of your tit spills into your palm and his hot all over again.
sukuna knows that his big hand would easily engulf your breast. his fingers twitch at the thought of squeezing it.
his breath hitches, a low, visceral grunt rumbles in his throat as his groin tingles.
the "typing..." bubbles appear on your end almost instantly, but you don't stay to watch. you toss the phone onto your nightstand and crawl into bed, a smug, satisfied smile on your lips.
you: 1 sukuna: 0
actually—
sukuna: cute.
sukuna: bet what's underneath is even cuter.
no, he's not talking about your underwear.
sukuna: you should let me give her a goodnight kiss some time.
anddddd, you're screaming into your fucking pillow.
trueform sukuna decides to torture uraume using you | 18+
The moon hangs heavy over the palace, a silver blade slicing through the humid night. Emperor Sukuna wanders like a ghost through the vermillion corridors, his silk robes whispering against the polished floorboards.
For a man of his hulking stature with four bulky arms, corded muscle packed into his body as if a strategist sculpted him for war, eyes like rubies, a gnarled mask upon one side of his face and more mouths than necessary, he moves with the delicate, soundless footfalls of the tiniest mouse.
Though his cunning, calculating nature is more akin to that of a sly cat slinking through these grounds undetected and hunting down said mouses to devour whole.
He had built this sanctuary—a gilded cage for the broken, a haven for the daughters of scorched earth and the wives of dead rivals. He asked only for their loyalty, a debt paid in silence and presence.
Murmurs that do not belong to the wind bring him to a halt near the Wisteria Pavilion.
Shadows dance against a heavy cedar pillar. There, his most trusted advisor, the stoic and glacial Lord Uraume, is pinned by a woman.
The rosy-haired man's muscles bunch, energy thrumming quietly inside him as he readies himself to conjure it and slice down the attacker. A woman being an assassin is no surprise to him as they are far more intelligent and know how to bide their time unlike impulsive males.
Has this one nullified Uraume's cursed technique? Did she render them powerless? That must be the reason as Uraume would waste no time taunting their foe like Sukuna does. They prefer a quick and clean finish.
Squinting, the emperor vaguely recognises the woman. He must have seen her in passing. One he had rescued from a northern massacre. Her fingers are frantic and pawing, shedding Uraume's stiff brocade layers as if peeling fruit.
“You are asking for a beheading,” the ivory-haired advisor hisses, their voice a jagged edge of restraint. “If His Majesty finds out about your treachery, there is no mercy. I will not choose you, woman. I will stand at his right hand while you are cast to the wolves.”
The woman giggles as if in the presence of a jester—you, as Uraume whispers in warning—an unfazed, chiming sound of pure ignorance. Perhaps defiance. Something about it is intoxicating like warm, fruity wine sliding down one's throat but the melody leaves one parched and thirsty for more rather than satiated.
A temptress then, Sukuna muses in his thoughts.
“If the wolves are meant to feast on me, they will,” you purr, your glossy mouth crashing against theirs in a desperate, bruising kiss as you guide their hand beneath your paper thin robes that reveal your tantalizing silhouette in all its feminine glory when the moonlight bathes you just right.
Sukuna watches from the darkness, his expression unreadable. Rage does not simmer in his gut. Though, this does not surprise him. He may indulge now and then by bedding more than willing women but it's not something he's ravenous for. Desire does not control him, his lust has no hands to clutch the reins of his mind like animalistic men make it seem.
Ryomen Sukuna is nothing if not a sovereign.
However—
As his scarlet gaze traces over the lines of your body, one that resembles the tapestries, artwork, poems and ballads of forest nymphs that he's heard of, his irises swirl with a gnawing, teeth-aching sweetness that he's come to know as curiosity.
With his palace flourishing in terms of riches, women, food, flowers, wildlife and such, it's only natural that a beauty such as yourself has been hidden from him all this time. Perhaps you ensured you stepped into the dark corners as you clearly enjoyed slipping his notice.
Poor you, your days of frolicking around and rolling in the sheets with his advisor are over now. Not that you know yet but he'll be delighted to inform you soon.
Speaking of his advisor, Sukuna thought Uraume to be an ascetic, a person of paper and ink. To see them undone by the very mercy the Emperor had provided is a fascinating breach of the natural order.
Philandering, Sukuna is seemingly hypnotized by watching two silhouettes disappear into the pavillion only to reappear at the window in shadows lit by warm lanterns, bodies melting into one as the songs of lovers coupling spill into the night's air, chorused by nocturnal creatures chirping and the breeze rustling leaves.
The last thing the Emperor sees before he tears his eyes away and departs is you hovering over Uraume as if he were your devotee and you his goddess with the reverence of one and the danger of a female preying mantis about to seduce her mate then eat him to feed her young.
Three days later, the air in the throne room is thick and stifling. The scent of sandalwood incense curls around the high pillars. Emperor Sukuna sits upon his elevated, lacquered throne, his robes of black and red spilling over the dais like a pool of fresh blood.
Before him, dozens of ministers and high-ranking officials remain pressed to the floor deep bows, their foreheads touching the cold tile. They are statues of subservience, forbidden from lifting their eyes.
Today's reason is vastly different from the norm.
A breathtakingly beautiful woman is perched on His Majesty's lap.
Back pressed against his chest, your legs are parted wide over his powerful thighs. Your layered, silk robes have been discarded, leaving you in a thin, translucent chemise that clung to your damp skin.
Large, warm hands are anchored firmly on your plush hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as Sukuna shifts his weight.
Below the dais, Lord Uraume stands rigid. Their eyes are fixed strictly on the scroll in their slightly twitching hands, though their face is a mask of pale marble.
“Continue, Uraume,” the Emperor drawls, his voice deep and smooth, betraying nothing of the throbbing between his thighs. “The reports on the drought in the southern provinces. I find the details are lacking.”
As Uraume starts to read, his voice cracking slightly, Sukuna grips your waist and gives a sharp, upward thrust. He's buried deep within you, stuffing you full and bulging in your belly yet he's still trying to sink further inside as if there's more room, the wet, slick noises of your union echoing through the silent, bowing court.
Breathlessly, you gasp, your head falling back against the Emperor’s shoulder, your soft hands clutching at his lower forearms for stability as the upper pair of hands plucks and pinch at your aching nipples through your flimsy chemise.
A flat, wide tongue of sorts is soaking the back of your garment in globs of hot saliva and yet it pales in comparison to the slick coating your thighs in sopping dribbles.
“The irrigation channels are failing, Your Majesty,” Uraume informs, his eyes flickering for a fraction of a second toward the lazy roll of the Emperor’s hips that have your own bucking for more friction.
Despite the debauchery interrupting him, the advisor carries himself with grace and iron discipline. He does not look up unless the Emperor is talking.
Behind him, the court remains paralyzed, hearing the groan of the Emperor’s heavy throne and the soft, breathless whimpers of the woman seated upon his lap, juices splashing against the silk of your under-robes filling the silence between.
Sukuna doesn't slow down as he hums in response, expression thoughtful as he inclines his head. He sets a sloppy yet punishing rhythm, his cock withdrawing until the fat tip nearly slips out of your fluttering pussy that's trying to cling to it before plunging back in with a heavy, visceral thud that forces a salacious sob from your wet throat.
Leaning forward, you mewl at how his massive form crowds you, as hot as iron against your sweat-slicked back. Head dipping, his lips brush your ear as he whispers—loud enough for Uraume to hear—“Is this not what you craved? To see them splinter for you?”
Gaze cutting directly to his advisor over the your trembling shoulder that's donning the bruising indent of his teeth, he juts his chin. “Go on, Advisor. The civil unrest in the villages. Tell me how you propose to settle the bloodlust of men who have nothing left.”
Uraume's knuckles are white. They have to listen to the Emperor’s unbidden grunts and cusses, the filthy, squelching slap of skin on skin, and the high-pitched, desperate moans as you begin to unravel once again, about to worsen to the puddle of cum on the floor.
A thrill crawls down Sukuna's spine as it dawns upon him once more that you're being filled by the man Uraume serves, while your bleary, heavy-lidded gaze is on the one you had bedded in the shadows. His cock kicks as he watches Uraume's face—the vein pulsing in their forehead, the sweat dripping from their temple, hidden by their fringe. What he finds most amusing is the slight shifts in their stance which tells him that this is arousing his advisor and they despise it.
Tightening his hold on your hips with his upper arms, Sukuna plants his feet wide and hammers into you from below in earth-shattering thrusts that shake your cries and whimpers with the very force of his hips as your body jostles along, the jewellery you're adorning clinking and jingling in musical alarm. Manicured nails claw into his forearm in vermillion streaks, you grind down uncontrollably against his heavy, veiny cock.
“My, you're not bashful at all, are you?” Sukuna's words are a rumble of delight that has your lower belly dipping, arousal dripping down your thighs and messing his like sticky honey churning into cream with his precum.
He was utterly impressed earlier when he told you what he wanted you to do and while there was room for you to refuse, you cocked your nose in the air and held your head up high as you agreed. Something about you told him that you may have been a princess before this.
“Ah-ahhh-h, Your Majesty,” you breathe, brows knotting in an almost pained expression, plump lips spit-slick and agape on needy pants as your glazed over eyes peer down at the one of two cocks splitting you in half.
The other is drenched in your prior orgasms, a pearl of precum beading at the slit as it jerks, standing to attention just minutes after it spilled inside you.
Sukuna's long, drawn-out groans and grunts descend into feral huffs and growls against your sensitive nape as his thrusts become shallow and frantic, hips snapping up into you erratically. One of his lower hands reaches down to spread your thighs further to ensure Uraume can see the pretty petals of your drooling cunt swallowing his cock in ravenous gurgles while his other finds your puffy clit, fingers rubbing circles against it with ruthless precision.
Back bowing, your body arches, your pussy molding to his shape and clamping down on him as your orgasm crashes down on you in a violent wave. The prettiest cry falls from your mouth, the sound piercing the (barely) formal silence of the court.
Sukuna follows you shortly after, a low growl escaping his throat as he spills himself inside you again, ropes of pearlescent, syrupy cum painting your walls. The scent of your coupling is thick enough to choke the kneeling ministers.
Pants and gasps pour from you both as he slumps back against the throne, you boneless against him, heaving for air, while the court remains frozen in their bows, trembling now from having been in that position for so long.
“A sound strategy, Uraume,” Sukuna praises, face flushed and dewy with a blissed-out glow, his voice returning to its terrifyingly calm cadence as he wipes a bead of sweat from his brow. “Though I think you’ll find that when a man is truly hungry, he will take what he desires, regardless of the cost.”
To add insult to injury, he bands a thick arm across your neck, cupping the side of your face to push your damp cheek against his, your hair curling against your forehead as your hooded, drowsy find Uraume's. Cotton fills your ears, muting everything around you, only the rush of your blood, pound of your heart and your shallow breaths audible.
“I think I have found your future Empress,” he announces and it lands like he just declared war on one of his allies with how the entire court tenses.
A sharp grin splits his cheeks as he glances down at his advisor, who is staring at the floor, reeling from the news. “You are dismissed. All of you. Leave me with my bride-to-be.”
Boxer!Cho fucks you as a pre-match good luck charm!. ݁⋆ ꫂ᭪ ݁˖ . ݁
“Ch—cho!” Wet slaps filled the bedroom, slick smeared across the apex of your thighs Choso has been pounding you for what felt like hours despite only half an hour passing.
He’d penetrate you mercilessly from behind with your ass lewdly colliding with his hips every thrust. Each pre-match fuck was entirely unpredictable and depended on the status of his opponent. He was flashy and determined. Each time he dicks you down right, another win from Choso flashes across the TV screen of thousands.
“Ngh—Who’s your opponent?” You huffed the words out. Your teeth clamped on your pillow in a response to a sharp thrust of his hips. He groaned, pressing on your spine. “Yuji Itadori, fucker’s been teasin’ me all week. Gotta let em’ know older brother’s still in charge.”
A gruff chuckle slipped past his lips, following a low whimper with the shift of your hips. The sharp thrust of his hips halted before he slid out. “I need my baby to get me right, get her nice n’ full” He flipped you abruptly, back hitting the mattress with his hands quickly spreading your plush thighs.
He appreciated the view of your sappy cunt. Your clit swollen and puffy, opening still mildly gushing in slow pulses from his last load. His touch was tender as a silent apology for fucking you so rough just a second ago. Typically wasn’t his forte till he learned that you preferred to be fucked like you were in trouble. Sharp ministrations to push you to your high in minutes
“We’re gonna beat that smartass. M’right baby?” He questioned, licking a lengthy stripe over your slick thighs. Attending to cleanup duty before shoving his face into his favorite girl. That needy pussy he treated like the last feast in a famine. “Ah—I don’ know Cho, Yuji’s pretty strong” Your spine arched off the mattress He nibbled your puffy clit as punishment for your response. “By the time i’m finished with this pussy, you’ll be thinkin’ otherwise.”
✦ Warnings: nsfw mdni, Choso is a pen, briefly mentioned subby whiny Choso (yes i make the rules here), ink = cum, edging, this is genuinely bullshit from my ass.
Pen! Choso x gn reader | masterlist
Inspired by @/madamechrissy's objectjo event. Made my day reading those fics by people y'all are sooo genius HAHA!! Lots of love.
This had to be a form of torture. There was no way in hell Choso did anything to earn this.
His tip was pressed against the page, over and over and over as you wrote down notes. Notes, seriously, this was his new purpose. A pen. A leaky, inky pen that just had too much ink. It slipped across the page with each messy letter, black and dark and soaking into your notebook.
You weren't even aware of the poor soul trapped in your pen! Choso couldn't get any relief, not like this. Each time he was about to spurt a massive amount of ink, he was cut short. You lifted him from the page, thinking about what to write next, scanning your textbook for the next piece of information. Fuck, all he wanted to do was cum!
And then there was the teasing. He knew you weren't aware of it, but each damn press of your lips against the top of the pen had a fat glob of ink dripping onto the paper. Fuck, why couldn't he be a human, that way your lips could wrap around his tip and suck his dick properly! No, instead he had to sit through torture, his consciousness screaming at him to try and get your attention.
But no, he couldn't. He couldn't get your attention, because he couldn't speak. All he could do was mentally whine and sob to himself as his sensitive tip was dragged across the page, beginning the next section of your notes.
It felt like hours, you building up his orgasm—or, pengasm—so close to the edge, only to lift him off the page, leaving Choso yet again unsatisfied. Each slick drag of his tip on the white page had black, thick ink pooling into spots, earning a frustrated groan from you. No, don't be mad at him!! Poor Choso can't help it, please, it's not his fault his tip's so damn sensitive!!
As his orgasm builds up once again, all Choso can think about is how you're about to lift him off the page, denying him of his orgasm. But... you don't?? Fuck, was he going to cum??!? Your delicate hand wrapped around his now warm body, scribbling words down on the page as your brain focused on the text in front of you. Fuck, fuck, fuck!!
You gasp, dropping Choso as you stare at the giant mess of black ink staining your page, ruining your notes. "Fuck me!", you groan, getting up to toss the ink—or rather, cum—stained page into the trash bin, grabbing a different pen. The ink was everywhere: your desk, your hands, even some splattered on your textbook. Guess you'd have to restart those notes... Choso just hoped you forgot about this soon, and used him another night.
insanjity .✦. all writing on this page belongs to me. under no circumstances should my work be plagiarized, fed to ai, translated, or reposted anywhere outside of tumblr.
“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 !
you find a grey hair in SUKUNA'S beautiful pink locs
you run your fingers through sukuna’s soft pink locks, gently ruffling them as he melts further into your hold with every passing second. his arm stays snug around you while the two of you lie tangled on your couch, lazily watching reels from his phone.
that’s when you see it.
“sukuna.”
“hm?” he nudges you lightly when you go quiet, shifting just enough to glance up at you. “what’s up?”
“y-you…” you hesitate, fingers brushing through his hair again. this time a little more focused. “you have a grey hair!” you point at it, eyes wide.
he lets out a quiet huff. “so what?”
“wait— wait! there’s more!” your fingers keep searching, and he groans, tossing his phone aside.
“you done? it’s just a few grey strands. what’s the big deal?”
your expression crumples, nose scrunching in that way he knows too well… cute, but dangerous. his hand comes up instinctively, cupping your cheek.
“what are you crying about now, brat?” the “insult” doesn’t stick, it never did even from the moment he met you.
you don’t answer, just sniffle quietly, and he sighs under his breath before shifting. he maneuvers you down beside him on the too-small couch, half his body hanging off the edge, but he doesn’t care. his arms wrap around you, warm and steady.
“love,” he murmurs, voice low and gentle, “you gonna tell me why you’re crying, hm?” his thumbs brush the tears under your eyes.
you sniffle again. “it’s just that… it means you’re getting old…”
he huffs out a quiet laugh. “you worried i won’t be as handsome?”
you lightly swat his arm. “never! i’ll just have more competition…” you mumble, embarrassed, and he chuckles into your hair.
“i’m flattered you’re crying over me getting older.”
“when i get a grey, will you cry?” you pout, and his eyes flicker down.
“yes.” he answers without missing a beat.
“is it because i’ll be ugly—”
he bites lightly at the junction of your neck.
“ow— ow! it was a joke!”
he presses a soft kiss over the spot right after, lingering there as he buries his face into your neck. “no. i won’t cry because of that.”
“then what for?”
you feel the warm puff of his breath against your skin as he pulls you closer, arms tightening just a little.
“it’ll just means my dream is coming true…”
he lifts his head, looking at you with so much quiet adoration it makes your chest ache. his eyes soften, almost glassy, like he might cry if he let himself.
“i’ll grow old with you.”
★ yooo i finally got ideas and posted hell yeahhh, it might be shitty but hey at least it's something
